#UnLanded

[pathbend-blog]

To This Galactic Councel

That as After Being Covered bY Our Client

Just Now Introduced to "Earth"

It Wasn't What You Were Thinking

Please Don't Do That And This Sead and Some Soil

That Can Sustain Your Planets

A Rose 🌹

Line Goes to Space

[aeridanus]

Was sorting through older sketchbooks and came across this first page from one of 2018′s books. I didn’t remember drawing this and had a good chuckle :D Man, that’s the only thing I miss about pre-covid times - all the sketching on the commuter trains.

[calygoart]

Kit and Mikey from the Unland actual play by The Apocalypse Players! That one's a real punch in the gut, but i still urge you all to check it out here

my sweet boys, i hope nothing bad ever happens to them...

[ensiana]

AGOTCK3 is a masterpiece. married viserra to a hunky stark and she claimed dreamfyre. Nature is Healing.

[eclipsecrowned]

thinking once again about the discord gag of mira coming to marriageable age well before her cousins and so at feasts a lot of lower houses and third or fourth sons all crowd her table as she just thousand yard stares and tries in vain to telepathically link with one of her cousins 'save me.' the bole boy is about to bore her to tears and smallj0n is going to put his fist through the table slamming alcohol and sharing news of his daring feats.

[raininyourblackeyes]

Well, Salchow is at least consistent with destroying men today

[onedismay]

1 hour (+10 min.......) painting study of Altaaya, my favorite unlandable planet in Mass Effect. Reference screenshot on the right with codex included. Wonder what happened to her... She's so mysterious.

[ukiiseikou]

you know i fade to grey without you.

kazuha kaedehara x gn! reader, figure skating au.

a/n: soooo y/n is kinda a flop in this one, and the pacing is kinda all over the place. this was my first ever piece i wrote (despite being published after the scara one) so please excuse everything wrong!! thank you! part of complementary figures, 2/? read wanderer's here.

you used to be good at figure skating. now? not so much. your body was taller and your limbs less under your control. a car crash sealed the deal, and your legs never really felt like your's anymore.

junior world champion used to be a title you had, but now? top ten at sectionals was often out of reach, much less any big international podiums. you settle with entering yourself into those small challenger cups, and if you're lucky, manage to snag a medal or two.

at least you never gave up on it.

your coach says its a good thing - your tenacity and grit, but even you can tell her hugs has become more fleeting and more like pats on the back over the years, dismayed at yet another two-footed or unlanded jump. you see how the skaters in the later groups looked at you - or more like, not looked at you. you were way under their league, an insignificant number on the scoreboard, a grey spot at the bottom.

you know figure skating. the feeling of ice against blade, the gliding, the wind in your face, the way the world around you blurs as you spin and launch yourself into the air. even the drowsy, orange tinted memories of watching mao asada's triple axel on repeat in the car at 5am, and the biting ice of the bath you have to lower yourself into at 1 in the morning, replaying your mistakes on the small screen you grasp between your hands. four years ago, you've said you wouldn't have it any other way. but those were bygone days, and now you were barely scraping by.

kazuha kaedehara, on the other hand, is figure skating's golden boy.

you remember how the commentators yelled over the broadcast as the last notes of his free skate sounded, the way your own teammates launched themselves out of the white plastic chairs crowded around the small TV and erupted into cheers and whoops. you swore you saw your coach wipe away a tear. the energy was electric, and even you felt your fingers tingle and your feet itch as you focus on his figure, his costume bright red against the white of the ice.

"oh my goodness, what even was that skating? spectacular! impeccable, just impeccable. why, i say we'll be seeing an olympic gold medal around his neck in three years. yes! kazuha kaedehara from inazuma, what a wonderful showing! a pure figure skater, the consistency, the artistry, the technical mastery, the interpretation. my friends, this is a one in a lifetime talent!"

praises like this echoed throughout the figure skating world for the next two years, and you heard it first-hand every single time. for some reason, despite being ranked number one around the entire world, kazuha kaedehara finds it in his heart to bless the smaller competitions you were at and take away the medal of some poor kid who only wanted to get some international recognition.

you've seen him so many times that he says hi to you in the hallways now (even though he probably doesn't even know your name). flashes that sweet smile that's captured the hearts of thousands across the globe in your direction as he tilts his head. you always settled for a nod and a smile as well, before brushing past him. this time, you faintly hear him call after you, shouting good luck, and you simply wave back in acknowledgement.

boys come later, first, you gotta pull yourself together.

you've been skating for your entire life now, but the chill of stage fright still gets to you. the feeling of your throat closing up as the speakers boom your name, you hop, gliding in a circle as you approach your starting position. you breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth.

the first few notes of your music start, and for a moment you panic as your foot roots itself to the ice. but your body moves on its own, your arms flying into the air as you push off your blade. the feeling melts away into pure adrenaline as you make your first round across the ice rink. this is it, your most difficult jump, the one you've never landed properly since the crash. you've done this before - four years ago, you can do it again.

you stare at the spot of ice you'll take off from, faintly, you think to yourself of how kazuha kaedehara probably does the triple axel in his sleep, but the thought is quickly swept away as your body twists forward. there's no time. your leg rises and the dark blue seats, dotted with spectators, blur into lines. you're in the air, wind whipping in your ears.

you make contact with the ice, but lurch forward. fuck. you desperately try to save it by bending your knees, but no luck. you pitch forward and your face nearly hits the ice as your arms and hands brace for impact. a wave of disappointment washes over you as you pick yourself up. you can't even hear the music anymore, relying purely on muscle memory as you skate through your program.

you can see and hear it all already: the wince in the commentators voice as he comments on your incorrect entry or off-centre axis; that one fan that's been following you forever probably just fell to his knees; the newspapers that only the people from your hometown reads - "y/n l/n cannot deliver anymore"; your coach who turns away with a hand over her eyes; your mother trying to contain the sigh that ultimately escapes from her lips.

a wave of disappointment washes over you, but you've got two minutes of program left, and at this point you're just happy you finished alive and with no broken bones, even with two falls and a downgraded spin. as you bow, you see him, bright red against the blue seats of the audience, clapping.

he's insane.

"y/n l/n, i just don't understand," your coach murmurs, after the quick squeeze she gives you as you step out of the rink, out of breath, "you hit it all in practice, it is just - the nerves, my dear? what is it? are your knees hurting again? we'll work on it, okay?"

it's always the same questions, the same disappointed look before she collects herself at the kiss and cry and pats you on the arm, handing you the jacket you've had for years now. the little girl behind you hands you a grey and white cat plushie that she picked up from the rink, and you smile at her, holding up the plushie to the camera as a pang of bitterness settles in your gut.

you and your coach exchange tight smiles before the camera. your coach's eyes turn to squint at the screen that displays your score. you settle instead for playing with the ears of the cat, waiting to be defined by a few set of numbers again. you finally hear your name announced, but you don't even look up to the display, you can only nod with finality as the speakers blare out your score for the whole venue to hear - not enough to qualify to the free skate. it feels like a guilty statement as it hangs over you like a dark cloud.

your coach pats you on the back absentmindedly, before standing up to fuss over your teammate, the one who will probably make it into the free skate.

you wave at the camera before it, too, turns away from you in urgency as the next skater takes to the ice. you tune out the polite applause as you stand from the seat, feet tired and head heavy.

it's always like this. you, washed out against the colours of the arena.

as you turn the corner in the hallways, you see him again.

"i just saw you - in the stands. how - how did you get down here so fast?"

"you were standing there for a really long time, got me worried a bit, actually," he smiles apologetically, "sorry, was that weird?"

"no - i mean, thanks for worrying," you do what you always do, angling your body to brush past him, but his words stop you.

"i liked it - your program."

you raise an eyebrow at him, and when you turn around you're startled by his bright red eyes.

"but i fell, like, twice," you break eye contact, averting your eyes.

you can see his arms move as he shrugs, "things happen. but i liked it. i really like the way you skated. did you choreograph it yourself? i think i saw that listed in your profile."

your eyes snap up to meet his, and he has the same smile that he shows everyone - sincere and charming.

"you read my bio?"

he lets out a gentle laugh, "sorry, i don't mean to be weird. i just - always liked your programs. i was wondering who choreographed them, then i saw it was you. it clicked! only someone who knew the music in and out could skate like you."

"i don't think anyone would want to skate like me," you give him a bitter smile, squeezing the cat between your arms, "but thanks."

he shook his head, "i was there at the junior championships, in the audience - when you won gold? i always wanted to skate like you."

you frown, "you're world number one."

"and i'm a terrible choreographer," he supplies helpfully.

"i don't think i should be your golden standard," you move to leave.

"wait! what i mean is - your skating, it’s... colourful. i can't put it into words, it's ethereal, fascinating, human, it changes people," words spill from his mouth and kazuha's hands suddenly grasp your's, eyes wide and shining, "can you show me? how you do it?"

"wait, wait," you blink, and he pulls out of your space, his eyes apologetic, "my skating does not change lives."

"it changed mine," he says quietly, and you laugh.

"sure, i changed the life of olympic favourite kazuha kaedehara! why not."

"no, really," he sounds out of breath, "didn't i say? i saw you. i actually wanted to leave the sport then, i wasn’t making much progress, but you made me want to skate. now that i’m here… i've been entering these competitions so that you could see me. i wanted to catch your attention."

your head feels like it's going to burst. he even looks slightly frustrated at the thought that you might have never noticed him.

your mouth open and closes like a fish, until you finally settle with: "everything you just said was true?"

"everything," he affirms.

you avert your gaze, "fine. this is me taking notice, alright? one lesson, that's all you get, kaedehara."

"hold your hand out more, you look like a flamingo, not a swan," you bark at kazuha, who laughs as he sits on the floor of the ice. you skate towards him, holding out a hand, "and i can't believe you fell on a double toe loop."

"things happen," he shrugs, grasping your hand as you pull him up.

"you asked me for an olympic level program, so put in some effort."

he laughs again, bending down to brush his nose against your cheek, but you push him away, huffing.

"do it again, this time properly."

"do i get a good job kiss afterwards?"

"i'll think about it," you grumble.

one lesson blossomed into something else, and now you've found yourself the partner of figure skating's golden boy, after he unceremoniously asked you one morning as the two of you walked together into the rink.

you finally quit, but not after several conversations from kazuha lamenting the loss of art from the world, but you've become a choreographer, and every new season he cuddles up to you, asking if you can choreograph a piece to his new favourite piece of music. you’ve also realised that kazuha kaedehara does not land triple axels in his sleep, if the sleepy mumblings of "don't fall!" and "ah, blast, i fell." was any indication.

people call his skating ethereal, colourful, life-changing, and all he does is smile at the camera and say "it's because of y/n, they inspire me."

you watch as he picks up speed from the far end of the rink. you're going to be busy this season, helping the younger ones with their programs. so, the next time you see him, he's at the olympics. his costume bright red against the white of the ice.

he points at you when he finishes, panting and out of breath. he laughs as he sees you clap, your dream blazing alongside his own. right now, even at the top, no other person matters, you're the one who brought colour into his life, after all.

guys... if shit sucks, hit the bricks!!! real winners quit! please ♡ and ⟳ if you enjoyed thank youuuu please support your authors!

[ri47]

The term "holy gargouille" used in reference to cataphracts was largely a later Vedronian trend, but it remains in use to describe a particular style of Kalmeniçan armour (notably lighter than its earlier incarnation) that shows no sign of falling out of fashion in any region cold enough to warrant its use.

Curiously, the name "holy gargouille armour" seems to predate the gargouille-faced masks.

One likely explanation is that the masks emerged in an attempt to reconcile the name, now devoid of its original meaning several generations after the collapse of Greater Vedronia, with the appearance of the armour

Lending some credence to this theory, in the parlance of Inner Vedronia, no distinction was made between the word received as "gargouille" and the word for any other statue. The name might better have been translated as "shrine knight," which would bring it into parity with a common name for unlanded nobility in other former holdings of Vedronia

[sabakos]

The history of higher education prior to the latter half of the 20th century is the history of the diverse activities of enrichment and enlightenment for the aristocracy, typical in Europe of the unlanded gentry. These entertainments have been applied to a vary degree of success to the middle and lower classes. One might ask "what is education for" and get a response of "it is an end in itself" but human nature does not tolerate ends in themselves, so if you want a robust humanities tradition, what you really want to establish is a professional bureaucratic class that needs this higher level of educational attainment in literature and history and philosophy. But, one may then ask, what will you have these people do? Um...

[theeldritchcorvid]

A List Of Some Of My Favourite Apocalypse Players Moments In No Particular Order

The fantastic moment in Trail of the Loathsome Slime when Joseph matter-of-factly describes the cook coming through the door with an axe and a severed head foaming blue at the mouth.

The first time Kirk Sleep loses it (and the subsequent reveal of his ABYSMAL 20 San)

The chain of events in the car kicked off by Duckworth breaking and smashing his mask and developing an obsession with his own beauty (can you tell I'm a big Crimson Letters enjoyer)

The moment in Unland where we learn what happened to Jojo. Ouch.

I'M ONLY NINE!

Peregrine McCutcheon putting his hand on what he thinks is the head of a dog, but of course it turns out to be a Bear. that whole scene is brilliantly creepy.

"Hi, I'm Lester Goodman!" "Hi, I'm Lester Goodman!" "Hi, I'm-"

The mere existence of Rose Damienne, need I say more?

I just genuinely love the buildup in Il Portico De San Luca. It's so TENSE. I mean we get that with a lot of these scenarios because you're waiting for shit to go sideways, but Portico had like 5 episodes build up to two episodes crazy shit and really I loved that. It had all the tension of a mob movie, but deep down you knew it'd go eldritch any second.

How utterly batshit NUTS Ed Mooney and Jack Carstairs went. I gotta relisten to Highway of Blood.

AND FINALLY the moment when everyone clocks quite how biological Prospect is in Bleak Prospect. The line 'we're in the stomach' gave me chills. As an aspiring anatomist and body horror fan I loved it. Glad I didn't listen over lunch though...

[sunhazeheart]

While I understand that they had a lot of ground to cover in the show, I really wish they'd just lengthened the season so we could get move covered in the years between them. I could do this for so many characters, but one person that fascinates me is Alicent in the spaces between time skips.

For example, one thing would be thinking about what basically surrounded her in the days, weeks and months after Viserys announced that he intended to marry her. While I'm sure lots of superficial courtiers flocked to her looking to cozy up to the Queen-To-Be, but there's no way there wasn't also a lot of scorn from others, particularly other girls in court and power-hungry fathers, brothers, etc.

Before this, Alicent is of not practicular importance in court besides the fact that she is the close personal friend of the princess. Her father is Hand, yes, which garners lots of respect, but as far as I know he doesn't have much else besides the station that he's worked for. He's an unlanded second son, and with him having at least one son of his own, while the Hightowers are obviously one of the wealthiest families in Westeros, there would be limitations to her dowery and what else she brings to the table besides prestige and the general good graces of being a young pretty girl supposedly able to provide children. She's slightly removed from the main branch of the Hightower family which will continue down her cousin's line. I'm not saying she doesn't have prospects, BUT she's not exactly worth a King.

So I could see rumors quickly spreading around her about why the King chose her over a Velaryon, or another sister or daughter of a great lord. Honestly, I don't think anyone was thinking there even could be another option besides Laena. Maybe we just didn't see it, but I didn't get the impression of noble families trying to parade their women in front of him. Even with the knowledge Viserys basically has to marry again. If I'm not mistaken, up to this point, no Targaryen King or prince had married outside of the Targaryen or Velaryon families (besides Jocelyn Baratheon who was half Velaryon, and of course Maegor, but he's an outlier is several ways). So imagine the surprise of lords and ladies that young Alicent Hightower, of all people, managed to snag the King. 100% Servants and guards or other people in the Keep saw her in or entering/leaving the King's chambers. In episode 2, the second scene of them together it looks like they're sharing a meal. I would imagine rumors could swirl about her visits to the Viserys being more salacious than they were, and an interesting take could be almost like the reverse of Alicent and Larys talking about Rhaenyra years later in the gardens.

There's the cut scene of Rhaenyra appearing to scream and rage at Alicent directly after the announcement of Viserys' intent to marry her, which imo, completely understandable with the limited information and surprise that Rhaenyra was just dealt. And of course the next episodes showcases Rhaenyra's isolation from both her father and Alicent as her stepmother. But there are the stills of a scene of Rhaenyra helping Alicent dress for her royal wedding and appearing to wipe the blood from around her nails. A few different scenarios could have culminated in this happened, whether Viserys forced her to, as an attempt to reconnect the girls, or this was the first instance of Alicent reluctantly using her soon-to-be rank over Rhaenyra to force her to talk to her, or if Rhaenyra simply chose to etc etc.

But the reason why I bring this up is that in those two poor-ass quality screen caps, Rhaenyra doesn't seem overly angry or hostile. So many the girls had a slight reconciliation at that point? Maybe Alicent tried to explain to Rhaenyra that it was on her father's commands that she became close to the King? Who knows. But then things could turn back very angry and hurt on Rhaenyra's side if, lets say at the feast and celebrations after the wedding, Rhaenyra, who no longer has any friends in court and likely already began to keep to herself, were to begin to overhear the scandalous rumors that Alicent seduced Viserys and visited him in pretty finery as soon as the very night after Aemma's funeral. That could be what broke down again the tentative bridge they may have built and results in Rhaenyra rebuffing Alicent again and again like we see in Episode 3.

Also, how was Alicent when she first found out she was pregnant? She has no mother or really any female figure in her life to speak with her about such things and what to expect, besides the probably very misinformed and clinical maesters. She's very much a child forced to go through the strain and pain of pregnancy, as if the sad truth for most girls in this world. She would have witnessed time and time again Aemma's miscarriages and stillbirths, while not likely physically present at them, seeing the toil of the aftermath on her best friend and her parents would have been terrifying enough.

On top of that, no matter how much remorse and guilt Viserys expresses over what was done to Aemma, I don't think she or anyone could ever 100% believe that he would never put his desire to have children, specifically a son, over her life.

And while I picture her father putting a whole lot of pointless pressure on her for her child to be a boy, and no doubt Viserys as well, I could see her almost wanting it to be a girl. While they're apart, Alicent's personal loyalty and love I would think it still reaching out to Rhaenyra. She wants her friend back, she wants the only person that I believe ever truly loved her for her, besides maybe her own mother. I think that Alicent wouldn't want to take that last thing for Rhaenyra, which she knows how much it means to her.

I wonder how Alicent felt when Aegon was born, a boy and given the name of a conquerer. How she watched Viserys fawn and preen over his new son, while she felt disconnected by the child she never even wanted to have yet. Maybe she expects to feel the mother's love that all women are meant to feel when they first see their child, but when he's laid in her arms she just sees a screaming little babe who is just a point blank reminder of her girlhood being gone and all the different expectations being mounted on her and any child that she has. Like she says later, she'd like to be Lady Alicent, but everyone only sees her at the Queen and now as the Prince's mother.

[woundgallery]

Doris Salcedo, Unland, 1995-1998

[apollolewis]

One thing that I’m very interested in is how the asoiaf/agot mod will handle playing as an unlanded pc in the next update/expansion. I love the idea of being a random guy with a dragon or dragon egg wandering around Westeros.

[ghostlyheart]

hello only other person on this website who likes the apoc players. what’s your top three fave scenarios of theirs?? 🎤 the world needs to know

@downton-not-downtown-smh hello I just wanted to say that this has been sitting in my inbox for months (😬) but I've been thinking about it The Whole Time. And I'm sorry I took so long to answer!! I've been battling my own personal lovecraftian horrors this summer and have finally emerged with a shred of sanity

1. A Residence at the Bay- I loooooove this scenario so much. This was my introduction to Jamesian horror and I fully intend to go down the M.R. James rabbit hole when I have some time. I actually listened to it before A Christmas Inheritance, which left me slightly confused by the end but didn't pose a huge problem (and made going back and listening to the first scenario all the more tragic). I'm very into the atmosphere of subtle but creeping dread that culminates in the realization that things are deeply wrong but you still have no fucking clue what actually happened. I think one of the players (Danaan?) said in an Instant San Loss episode that horror is at it's best when no explanation is offered, and that definitely rings true here. This probably also has my favorite batch of characters. The way McCuthcheon, Carraig-Muir, and Lady Bjalmier play off each other is so entertaining. The balance of truly disturbing moments, heartwrenching emotion, and insane humor is perfect (and really encapsulates why I'm so drawn to this podcast in the first place). Danaan is such a wonderful keeper, and I can't wait for An Uncommon Burial!!

2. Crimson Letters- This one is so zany and over the top, and has some of the moments that have made me laugh the hardest. It sports such an iconic cast of characters who would be standouts on their own but combine forces to become an infinitely entertaining force for chaos. The guest players gel super well with the main cast and the way it keeps dragging on and on very much has up late at a sleepover energy. I'm such a sucker for classic era cthulhu and this scenario is just very very solid. I have the keeper's handbook now so I'm excited to get to actually read through it! Really hoping I can run it for my game group one day. Abner Wick is a legendary NPC and Dom in general is very good at embodying a huge cast while still making them all feel fleshed out.

3. MTSK-37- Genuinely creeps me the fuck out!!! I listened to this before reading The Colour Out of Space so I was completely lost and had no idea what the threat was supposed to be. I'm actually very happy that's the way it worked out because I think the ultimate way to experience lovecraftian horror is to be thrown into the middle of it and just let it wash over you. The intra-party conflict is so delicious and the players did such a wonderful job at adapting these pre-made characters and making them their own.

Honorable mentions go to The Crack'd and Crook'd Manse (the one that started it all 🥺), The Moonchild (still trying to figure out exactly what happened aksjsks), and Unland (completely heartbreaking)