#alchemist jewellery

[rosenfey]

dunmer girlies :3c feat some new ones [x]

🌋 ashrah /nerevarine • 🍷 aine /vampire

📜 freyleth /arcanist • 🌿 aveli /dragonborn

[fluffyblue-multifandommess]

Merch here is any item that is related to a fandom in some way, but not the media itself; imitation items (a sword from Kingdom Hearts, the pocketwatch from Fullmetal Alchemist, etc), art (posters, a mug with character art on it, etc), symbolism (a t-shirt or notebook with the triforce symbol from Zelda on it, etc), candy (shaped like Pikachu, etc) and so on. A DVD boxset or a collector's edition of a game etc do not count as merch for the purposes of this poll.

[fairy-verse]

what can kill a fairy?

There are common ways a fairy may die, such as intense trauma to their tiny bodies, which is what the Big Folk who do not care for them will often use. Other ways will also include keeping them trapped. A fairy will eventually wither and die when held in captivity, though this may take weeks to happen, and so alchemists will make use of this time to extract blood, tissue, wing samples, and the like from the fairy whilst attempting to not kill them in the process. Everything about a fairy’s body is valuable when it comes to alchemical ingredients and jewellery, so it’s important to keep them alive for as long as possible.

Fairies, small as they are, can also be killed from grief and heartbreak. They bond for life, and whilst some may be able to move on and attempt to find a new mate should they lose their previous one, most will rarely manage to keep themselves going, and the grief that comes with losing their life partner will often lead them to their death.

Should two fairies have a faerling and one passes away shortly after, then the other parent fairy may have a bigger chance at survival, for the instinct to protect their faerling is so strong that it could fuel their Soul for years. However, if they are unable to overcome their grief by the time their faerling reaches maturity, then their Soul may finally reach its end, and then, they will die.

[kaddyssammlung]

The "no sense of self" BPD thing

and also me putting "Vessel" in there. I'm sorry in advance.

I just spent the past few hours reading through a book. I was jumping around in that book. Some books you don't have to read by starting at page one but you can kind of read a little here and there. That book was written by that guy where I buy my alchemistic substances from.

It's what he writes about the arts or artists that kind of stuck with me. He says that the arts have something to do with what I would translate as “a wounded inner child that needs to be heard”. We use art to deal with our pain. I agree with this. It's like giving this wounded child a voice so it can be heard.

So....why am I brining this up.

I've also been reading, and reading and reading about BPD.

There is this symptom of not really having a sense of self. Rather then having an internal feeling of who we are we rely on others to tell us who we are. “Being unable to define an identity on one's own and instead being dependent on interpersonal relationships to define one's identity...” (source). So well...yes I know. Which is why I often dress a certain way when I have to work or why I stopped cross-dressing. No one liked that and I got very strong reactions for it (it was at Uni and it happened a few times and they were always guys and idk...dear God....call me names all you want but don't call me stupid. Stupid dirty dyke that motherf. said to me....noooo I'm not angry. I understand his problem. I actually do kind of). If I had a sense of self then I would not care about these things. I mean those are extreme examples but they are true. I also noticed that I often wear certain jewellery when a certain employee is around that day because I know that she will give me so many compliments. I get dissapointed when she does not comment on it.

So I end up dressing up and not just putting clothes and I do that quit often. I just am not really aware of it but I am now. I mean I know all that but right now I am hyper aware of it actually.

How about you then also enter a stage and rely on everyone to cheer you and sing along or scream along or better yet cry along. Hmmm.....maybe dress up so much that you even put a mask on and not just a costume. And then act out a little. Smooch your bandmates and the crowd just goes feral.

Yeah so....I'm totally doing it again. I'm pinning my BPD on Vessel....well projecting it onto him actually.

I can understand all of this so well. I think I work in retail because it's a bit like being on stage in some way. Humans need me because they want to know something from me. I often use this "stage" to entertain them also. It depends on my mood.

Yeah so...I'm fine. It's January the first and I've been thinking and reflecting way too much, as you can see.

I'm sorry Vessel btw. I understand you on so many levels. At least it feels like I do or it seems that way.

[1nfernals]

⊠    ɪᴅ  .  .  .  ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ    ››    [    hazal filiz küçükköse    /      37    /    nonbinary    /    they + she    ]   mercy  headquarters  is  pleased  to  officially  introduce  ZELIHA YILDIRIM.  they  have  been  apart  of  the  organization  for  one week,  serving  as  A HEAD AGENT OF SENTINEL ARMAMENTS  and  has  been  assigned  the  codename  AGENT  STEELHEART.  it's  worth  noting  that  their  file  indicates  they  have  not  undergone  the  solaris  treatment  and  DO  NOT HOST  A  MUTATION.  according  to  our  dossier,  the  agent  exhibits  a  combination  of  RESOURCEFUL  and  STRICT  traits,  fitting  for  someone  reminiscent  of  major kusanagi motoko ( ghost in the shell ).  prior  to  embarking  on  any  mission,  the  find  solace  in  listening  to  the  song  “initiation”  by  CROWN THE EMPIRE.

𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝚂.

full name: zeliha yildirim.

nickname: zel.

age: 37.

birthday: january 16th.

zodiac sun sign: capricorn.

gender + pronouns: nonbinary + they / she.

orientation: greysexual.

birthplace: safranbolu, karabük, turkey.

languages: turkish, english, russian, spanish, italian, french.

accent: mostly faded into a short monotone ; some words still are accented.

occupation: head agent of sentinel & weapons armaments, employed for 11 years prior to this assignment and promotion.

augmentation: cybernetic left leg replacement, hip-joint downwards.

family: two younger sisters, mother, father, paternal grandparents, an all-black cat named minik.

𝙳𝙴𝚃𝙰𝙸𝙻𝚂.

hair: brownish-black, blunt-cut at the middle of their back. nearly always kept in some kind of braid, knot, or ponytail.

eyes: hazel.

piercings: earlobes. rarely wears jewellery, only on formal occasions. navel, hidden.

tattoos: ( right arm / shoulder ). nearly always covered.

mbti: istj - the inspector.

moral alignment: lawful neutral.

+ disciplined, analytic, resourceful.

- intimidating, easily detached, strict.

character inspirations: major kusanagi motoko from ghost in the shell; zatanna from dc comics; emily prentiss from criminal minds; river tam from firefly; roy mustang from fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood; elektra natchios from daredevil.

𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳. ( cw: blood, injury, depression )

you were not born for this life ; yet, something within you, as eldest, was doomed from the beginning. the necessary evil of carving out a path to greatness, where all your ancestors before you never had the chance. a young girl, living rural in your village near the black sea & its permeation of salt-water through to your pores, this was a simplicity you yearned to never surrender. yet life dominoes, butterflies its effects & you are not immune to being swept up in the currents. hard work in your academics was to make your family proud. the higher marks you brought home, the more relief you saw in your parents' faces. you strayed sometimes towards that which was more creative & less lucrative: acrylics like your grandfather, poetry like your cousin. though not stifled, they were not as eagerly devoured. you know that the world is difficult out there. especially now. you had never heard of anything like solaris, mercy, nor sentinel ; you knew only the sun, the sand, & the safety of your home. & then, regardless of your innocence, it came to you.

studious, focused, & aching for relationships and friendships that you never let yourself have ( don't get distracted ), you navigate through your university years abroad with a particular vengeance. you know the formulas to get better marks, the networking social systems to gain better opportunities. your tactical outlook on life drew the recruiters into your inner circle. it began as someone in a suit who sat in on your bio-chemical engineering class ; simple as that. it ended with you, being handed a card & told that your greatness did not have to stop there.

you had always ran amok outside, understood how to barrel through different terrains. you entered the organisation as a field agent, determined to prove yourself. was this not the path of success? learning multitudes of information, how it overwhelmed you at first. how you yearned for the quietness, but yearning solves nothing. you place your emotions in a box ; you grew into something steel-coloured & refused to let the home-grown flowers escape from your ribs. taking on assignments no one else would — until, once more, the assignment took you.

you have no memory of it. only that the world spun & that you smelled salt & that it was coppery blood in your mouth. you awakened to people asking how you felt. you haven't thought about your feelings since you were twenty-five & thought that you could fall in love, have this career, & do it all. your power was taken from you ; you refuse to have your dignity compromised. they gave you the best leg you could ask for. installed it right at the hip joint. is that what happened? you still can't fucking remember. you tried not to, but so entrenched to your physicality had you become, that this removal-of-self sent you spiralling. your mind seemed disconnected, the world kept spinning & you remained still. going back to your roots, studying the cybernetics & weapons you once built & trialled yourself, held no persuasion for you. you floated. you hurt. you wept for the first time in years. it tasted like the salt of the black sea.

then, you became necessary again. your expertise, opinions, strategies, & time have been well-spent. your success is still immediate. with the need for the brand new weapons division, you were brought out of your sea & your shell. stares do not make you wither. you will not be moved, bereft, or ignored. you can stand alongside the rest of them, even though now it's in a different way ; & this way is a testament to how you are made of steel. literally. it makes you chortle to yourself without mirth. you can look in the mirror, you dress well, you remain untouchable. you try not to be cold to those who are alongside you. this is difficult. all you have ever truly craved is to be close & you got too close ( were you protecting someone else, you can't remember ) & it took something from you. still, you will not abandon your post nor your fellow agents. you are here to solve the matters at hand with the experiences you have been given. & the longing can rot within you.

[nishloves]

hey nish, so here is my ask for the match. thank you again, hope its not a bother!

i am an intj and more of an introvert. i can adapt well depending on my interlocutors and can be really shy as well as extremely outgoing. i love staying outside in the comfort of my house but also like hanging out with my friends even if i loose my energy pretty quickly. i am usually described as someone with a rather calm aura but the moment im really comfortable i am rather crazy lmao. i tend to lose focus quickly, ramble a lot (and forget to whom i said what) and can’t see for shit. i am a lazy perfectionist who hates things being done incorrectly but i want them being done quickly. i can be seen as arrogant but im a huge overthinker. I hate showing my feelings and have a hard time accepting my failures. since im always the youngest in my different friend groups, people tend to baby me which is really advantageous.

regarding my hobbies, i do ballet and modern jazz for more than fifteen years and it’s an art and sport that i am really dedicated to, creating choreographies and being kind of a scary mentor when i want to even if i like being like a big sister » so the youngest (im one of the oldest now). i also used to play tennis but outside those sports, i hate physical activities. i love manual activities such as making jewelleries, embroidery, crochet, drawing silly doodles and painting (even if i can’t wait until it is completely dry). i like reading (esp criminal novels) and love animes (my fav are haikyuu, hxh, fullmetal alchemist and bsd). id like to watch kdrama but i dont have enough time and can’t stay focused for so long anyways.

i am a sucker for light and dark academia and you’ll find me most of the time with velvet pants or oversize jeans and a pullover. finally, if i had to choose only five svt songs, it’d be 24h, home run, i don’t know, fallin’ flowers and hot.

thank you so much, i hope i didn’t ramble too much. love you!

hehe not at all! i loved reading all of it <3

when I read intj, i immediately thought about jun/hao/wonwoo but when I read it further, i thought that you might suit joshua more. but!!! when I read about the ballet portion, i just couldn't help thinking about dino!

so i match you with, wonwoo!

he is one of the most considerate individuals I've ever seen, he would be able to differentiate between your moods and energy levels and take care of you whenever you're out; it's like— he can just understand if you're drained or anything and would politely excuse you both from the gathering if he feels as if you're getting overwhelmed.

he would keep you grounded— scold you when you're wrong and empathise with you when you just want to rant. kind of like a very sturdy shoulder to cry on and your biggest motivation for any project.

he would absolutely love your calm-crazy dynamic, he loves it whenever you're so happy that your calm demeanor of an intj morphs into something more childlike and adorable. he also likes the fact that you have "maknae" tendencies, and would absolutely adore it.

he's not a perfectionist per se, but he has friends who are and rest assured that he will do his absolute best to help you take a break/ break your overthinking thoughts and help you get rational again. (vice versa)

you'd think that having a few hobbies to share might be a problem but it actually isn't; wonwoo is very happy whenever you're doing what you love and it makes him want to engage in your hobby with you. you both push each other to step out of your comfort zones and try out different things <3

and god, if you ever make him a bracelet, or crochet a small keyring for him, he's gonna treasure it; I think he might cry in secret too 😭

he also likes the fact that you don't like physical activities because then he doesn't have to do it, you both would probably spend your days cuddling or trying out each other's hobbies or cheering each other on!

he would be your biggest hypeman for your ballet and jazz music <3

[sunbreathr]

@ishvlnpckpockt cont from x

If there was anything time had proven, it was that Edward Elric was a magnet for trouble. What was meant to have been a relaxing walk around a local town whilst waiting for Al had led to someone bumping into the young alchemist. Perhaps yelling at her wasn't a great idea, but neither was running into someone!

The grumpy alchemist was going to continue on with his day, but then someone else came speeding around the corner ( seriously? what was going on today! ) babbling about .... stolen jewellery? Not exactly Ed's business, but it wasn't like he had anything better to do.

With little more than a nod, the blonde was sprinting after the thief. Maybe he could get an apology after all – either for the initial collision or for the dull ache in his shoulder now.

❝ Hey! Get back here! ❞ The girl was hardly more than a blur, naturally quick and graced with a head start. But Ed was determined, not one to give up on a pursuit so easily. If he just got the jewellery back, the seller would calm down and the thief could go about the rest of her day. And he could avoid all the boring legal stuff – a win - win situation !

❝ Wait up – I just wanna talk, alright? ❞

[comicsart3]

Satanik is something of an oddity. She appears in an Italian erotic noir comic book of the same name and combines crime adventure with the supernatural together with mild sex scenes. Satanik herself began as a talented, if plain, chemistry graduate, named Marny Bannister who unwisely develops a drug, following the recipe of an ancient alchemist, to cure her of a facial deformity. The drug works, in that Marny is transformed into a sophisticated, sexy and beautiful young woman, free of her deformity. As nothing in life comes for free, Marny’s personality is also mysteriously transformed into that of a psychopathic criminal mastermind. Naming herself Satanik, she embarks on a successful career of larceny, blackmail and murder, pursued by the city police, led by Lieutenant Trent who is determined to bring her to justice. Satanik also later battles demons and vampires, anticipating Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its imitations by at least two decades.

In this panel, Satanik has overpowered a janitor and is tying him up and gagging him (“This should stop you moving or being heard” she says) before she goes on to steal a cache of jewellery. With thanks to my friend Mats Karlsson for supplying me with this wonderful femdom image of the evil and murderous Satanik in an arguably more benign frame of mind!

The Satanik title was created by Max Bunker and illustrated by Magnus; the first issue was published in December 1964. It ran for nearly ten years, with the last issue appearing in November 1974.

[thedemocraticallyelectedovahkiin]

Pets of Skyrim

I returned to Riften's ratway to unlock the cage with Skitch the skeever. I then travelled to Whiterun to the Bannered Mare in order to read the For Sale note. In order to enter Whiterun I told the guard that 'I had news from Helgen about the dragon attack as this was a persuade dialogue choice it leveled up speech to level 18. Upon reading the note the quest log directed me to travel to Rorikstead +so as to buy a goat from Halvar.

On the way I discovered Fort Greymoor, Gjukars Monument and Goldenhills Plantation. here I was attacked by a ghost. It was during this fight I leveled up once again. Upon defeating the ghost the quest The Unquiet Dead started. As at the end of this quest you are gifted with a player home that can be used to house all of the soon to be collected pets instead of a regular what to do next poll I will instead do a poll on whether or not to complete this quest first.

Reading Halvar's journal upon buying Hilda the goat activated other markers to follow to collect the other pets. During the journey I had Skritch follow me and his discovered two food items a mammoth cheese bowl and a bottle of alto wine.

The next pet I set off for was Arachnia the spider as I knew this would be the most difficult as she was in a small cave with hostile vampires. They were easily cleared by summoning the undying ghost and standing back while he worked.

After freeing Arachnia I set off to collect the rabbit Thistle. On the way I came across a troll, which by again using the undying ghost spell and hitting it with flames from a distance, I was able to defeat. It was then simple to arrive at the alchemists shack in order to feed Thistle a carrot and take them as a pet.

Before heading to the last pet I first stopped off at Riften in order to sell off excess gear before using Riften stables to travel to Falkreath in order to shorten the walk. It was then a short walk to find the dead thief and then to feed a sweetroll to Sweet Roll the fox and complete the Pets of Skyrim

Quests:

quest lines active: Before the Storm (main), Loud and Clear (thieves guild), Under Saarthal (college of winterhold)

quests started: The Grey Cowl of Nocturnal, A Soul Divided, The Unquiet Dead

misc quests: learn more about the thieves guild from Delvin and Vex, join the Imperial legion, join the Stormcloaks

Places Discovered:

Whiterun Stables

Whiterun

Fort Greymoor

Gjukars Monument

Goldenhills Plantation

Rorikstead

Mixwater Mill

Ivarstead

Alchemist's shack

Falkreath

Halfmoon Mill

Enchantments learned:

Fortify block

Fortify conjuration and magicka regen

Spells learned:

Teleport pet: Arachnia

Teleport pet: Hilda

Teleport pet: Skritch

Teleport pet: Sweet Roll

Teleport pet: Thistle

Apparel:

Head: Iron helmet, Thieves guild hood (prices are 10%better), Stormcloak helmet, Fine hat, Novice hood (increases magicka by 30 points)

Body: Iron armour, Thieves guild armor (carrying capacity increased by 20 points), Vampire armour, Fine clothes, Necromancers robes (Magicka regenerates 75% faster)

Hands: Thieves guild gloves (lockpicking is 15% easier), Hide bracers, gloves

Feet: Iron boots, Thieves guild boots (pickpocket success is 15% better), Vampire boots, boots

Shields: Iron, Hide

Jewellery: Amulet of Arkay (Increases health by 10 points)

Weapons:

Ancient Nord bow

Iron battleaxe

Iron greatsword

Iron warhammer

Steel war axe

Steel mace

Steel sword

Steel dagger

When polling please be aware two handed weapons will be included in the right hand poll and magic in the left

[psijic-toast]

FFXIVwrite 11: Pawn (catch-up)

Ao3 link if that’s more your cup of tea

T’ahria remembered her father owning a necklace; a small polished chunk of labradorite, paired with two condor feathers, held by a thick cord of gazelle leather. It had been a gift from his mother, he once explained, a small ward to guard him when he had left the tribe for the first time. In times of strife he would often worry it, thumb rubbing an indent on one side of the stone.

She remembered he sold it, when she was only five summers old and they had been stranded in Vesper bay. It had taken what savings they had to get that far, but with their boat and destination no longer an option, they were left stuck without sufficient funds. So he pawned it, along with a few other items, to raise enough funds to get them all back somewhere more populated.

She never expected to see it again. The chances were low to non-existent, lost to the Thanalan markets. T’lasa had once tried to retrieve it, years later when he had returned to his travels. But the pawnbroker he gave it to had long since sold it on, the buyer just initials in a forgotten ledger.

So it was almost unbelievable when she caught sight of it in Ul’dah, hung next to a collection of similar looking jewellery. She froze midstep, the crowd knocking into her as it continued to move. Alphinaud and Alisaie didn’t notice their companion was missing until around the corner.

“Are you alright?” Alisaie asked as they returned. T’ahria nodded as she pretended to glance over the rest of the wares. She couldn’t keep the charade up for long, gaze drawn to it. Delicately she lifted it into her palm, thumb hovering over the familiar groove formed in the stone. “Something catch your eye?”

“It was my father’s” She mumbled the words, not wanting the merchant to overhear lest he charge her a small fortune for it. There was no price tag on it - she assumed that meant the charge was in accordance with the customer’s interest in it.

“Is it?” Alphinaud eyed the necklace closer, before trying to grab the attention of the merchant. “Excuse me, how much for this one?”

“The labradorite? An excellent choice young Ser -that is a genuine Sil’dihn charm, used by their court Alchemists. They used such charms as protections from their own curses and poisons as they tested and practised them. The stone darkens with each spell it absorbs -as you can see this particular specimen has protected its wearers from a good many, though still has some capacity for a few more”

Both twins looked to the Au Ra completely flummoxed in the middle of the avenue. 

“It’s… it’s a traditional T tribe protection amulet, given out to Tias when they first leave the Tribe. It has zero connection the Sil’dih”

“Oh really?” The merchant looked T’ahria up and down, glaring at her. “And how, pray tell, are you an expert on such charms? On whose authority?”

“Uh, hi, T’ahria Lasa, of the T of Twelveswood, good to meet you. Under the authority of… I don’t know? T’zhona Razum, I guess?”

“T’ahria Lasa- The Godsdamned Warrior of Light?! You expect me to believe-”

“I expect” Alphinaud cut in “a good merchant such as yourself to not try and swindle your customers. What proof do you have to support your claims?”

“Well -Well I…”

As the merchant tried desperately to find some document or another, and get out from under Alphinaud’s gaze, Alisaie slid in beside T’ahria, lowering her voice to a whisper.

“Was any of that true?”

“Somewhat? Well, it is tradition to gift any tribe member something when they first leave. Usually it’s an amulet, or a small knife, but there’s no set gift”

“Do you have any such gift?”

T’ahria nodded, fiddling with the collar of her shirt to remove her own necklace. She held it out for Alisaie to inspect.

“My father started it” In the palm of her hand sat a small condor, wings outstretched, carved from rosewood. “Gave it to Uncle T’dar before he left for Carteneau. T’dar finished it -see that nick there” She pointed to a larger chip that defined the feathers, noticeably larger than the others. “He fell over while doing so. Oh, and this” She flipped the bird over, revealing the symbols of Menphina and Azeyma carved on one wing each. “Though I took Menphina on as my guardian, Aunt T’irnari still insisted on including Warden as well”

“It’s beautiful”

“I should hope so. They’re insisting on making you two ones as well”

The merchant finally conceded that he had received incorrect information regarding the origins of his trinkets, and had offered to sell it to them at a reduced price. Or so he claimed. T’ahria still scowled at the price, even as they walked away, her father’s necklace wrapped neatly in hand.

“He sold it for just barely enough to get us to the Silver Bazaar, and I just bought it back for three times that. He’s probably screaming at me from the first Heaven”

“What do you plan to do with it, now that you have it?”

“I’ve got an idea”

–

The Chaulker family had lived in the Twelveswood since the Elementals gave man leave to. It was then, while they built the Goldleaf Canopy, when they planted the family’s ‘Mourning tree’, as they called it; A large oak now, decorated twig to root with charms of flint and amber, and a rainbow of handknit bough warmers, all honouring generations past.

When Mr Chaulker had heard news of T’lasa, he had offered them a branch. They hadn’t a body to bury, nor ashes to scatter. Instead they decorated T’lasa’s branch in Condor feathers, tied up by strips of boar leather, a bronze symbol of Azeyma hung up towards the centre. A bow of sylphic silk tethered a fresh carrot to the tree - it gave T’ahria a warm feeling that Tamaxio still paid respects.

And now, as Alisaie finished the knot and jumped from T’ahria’s shoulders, his amulet hung from it as well.

[limetameta]

Kimblee: My sister has all of these gold necklaces and rings and earrings and what do I have? I got this suit. I love it, it's my favourite suit, but when you put that into perspective, I just look nice. But I'm not at all set financially.

Riza: Well, maybe if you liked to wear jewellery you'd get some.

Kimblee: As of today I will be wearing rings and gold chains. I need some stable income. Money? It can become obsolete at a drop of a hat. Gold? Gold's forever.

Edward: Yeah, you know he's right. We need to start preparing for the alchemical apocalypse. Money's going to be worthless then.

Kimblee: That's not happening during our lifetimes and you shouldn't concern yourself with it.

Riza: Dare I ask? *then a pause* Wait, is that that thing where alchemist believe sooner or later someone's going to invent a type of nuclear alchemy that's going to blow us all up and leave us in a frozen wasteland? My father would talk about that and make me do survival training. He even built a bunker.

Roy: Your father's a smart man. Everyone should be prepared for the alchemy apocalypse.

Kimblee: One man writes one controversial paper and starts a three generation long panic about a potential apocalypse. Alchemists are all truly paranoid people.

Roy: So, you're paranoid?

Kimblee: I have a healthy dose of paranoia, yes. I'm an alchemist. Why do you think we all code our research? Just for fun?

Edward: I did it because it's the norm. Also, yeah, it was kinda fun.

Kimblee: It is pretty fun, I agree.

Roy: Though, back to the topic of gold. My aunt has some gold bars with my name on it. So, I'm set.

Riza: I have a bunker. I'm richer than all of you. What will your gold do for you if you don't have any alchemy apocalypse-resistant shelter??

Kimblee: She's right.

Maes: What are you guys talking about?

Roy: The alchemy apocalypse. I told you about it.

Maes: Yeah, and that's not happening during my or Elicia's lifetime so I'm set.

Kimblee: The way I see it, non-alchemists are much more inclined towards developing nuclear weaponry than alchemists are. I see it's coming our way. But not on such a grand scale that the entire world will be wiped out.

Maes: What's that weird conspiracy theory that we're being run by stone people who seek to destroy Amestris?

Kimblee, who knows about the homunculi, sweating: That sounds so silly, Maes. What's next? Flat earth?

Roy, an ardent believer in making Kimblee's life hell: Hey, hey, Kimblee, hey, how can you really KNOW whether or not the Earth is round?

Kimblee, screaming internally: :)

[ofmontmorency]

❝ SEMPRA SUPRA | ALWAYS ABOVE ❞ ⸻ inspired by scar (the lion king), frances price (french exit), lady macbeth (macbeth), and lust (fullmetal alchemist)

PINTEREST — SPOTIFY

tw: death, murder, teen pregnancy

basics

• full name: delphine geneva antonia of montmorency

• nicknames: delphie (by her husband only)

• gender: cis female

• pronouns: she/her

• age: 64

• date of birth: 21st december 1959

• zodiac sign: sagittarius

• sexuality: bisexual (male leaning)

• place of birth: paris, france

• residence: a grand manor in an old english style with french influence in the city of london

• occupation: head of the table

• aesthetics: vintage red wine, anything decorated in gold, silk, champagne, gunpowder, diamonds, ornate silver daggers, coats with fur collars, designer jewellery, floral perfume

appearance

• faceclaim: kristin scott thomas

• voice claim: kristin scott thomas

• height: 5’ 7”

• build: average ; a little on the skinnier side

• eyes: blue

• hair: blonde

• piercings: both earlobes

• tattoos: a minimalist tattoo running all the way down her spine

• style:

personality

• positive traits: organised, resourceful, articulate, hardworking, punctual, charming

• negative traits: reserved, cunning, ruthless, cruel, sadistic, persuasive, vindictive

• mbti: estj - the executive

• likes: literature, art, history, sweet food, shopping (particularly for clothes and jewellery), champagne and wine, fruit teas, seeing her enemies cower before her

• dislikes: extreme temperatures, spicy food, being underestimated, dust and dirt (especially on her family’s heirlooms and décor), tardiness, sports (other than equestrian sports)

• phobias: entomophobia

• hobbies: reading, target practice, collecting art and antiques

• skills: sharpshooter ; expert in using knives as a weapon ; polyglot (speaks fluent english, french, italian, german, russian, and japanese) ; ambidextrous (favours her right hand)

• pet peeves: being disrespected and underestimated, cheap alcohol, people interrupting or talking over her

• other: a lot of people find it frightening how quickly she can shift from being calm and composed to being threatening and vicious. delphine can be volatile and will not hesitate to hurt someone if she is threatened herself or disrespected in any way. in the blink of an eye, she is capable whipping out a knife and stabbing or slitting someone’s throat no matter who they are. nobody disrespects delphine m and lives long to tell the tale.

family

• mother: alexandra loretta elizabeth cavendish (deceased)

• father: etienne benedict of montmorency (deceased)

• siblings: adonis etienne roman of montmorency (older brother by four years- deceased)

• oldest daughter: jacqueline of montmorency

• youngest daughter: davika aphrodite of montmorency

• granddaughter: noémie beatrix of montmorency

favourites

• food: anything sweet

• drink: champagne

• time of the day: evening

• weather: warm and sunny

• colours: red ; gold

• songs: anything classical

bio

— delphine was born on 21st december 1960 at 1:38am to etienne of montmorency and his wife victoria. how fitting it was for a baby who would grow up to be a cold, ruthless, cruel woman to be born on the darkest day of the year. she was also born two weeks early when her parents were in paris on business, which was an ‘inconvenience’ as the birth delayed her father’s meetings and upset the cliente. naturally, it was out of anybody’s hands, but when she was older morgaine had a feeling she was never forgiven for arriving early.

— she grew up in the shadow of her older brother adonis: the golden child who could do no wrong, the heir to the montmorency fortune, and future head of the table. she was essentially a spare part and could never instant why her parents bothered with another child if they weren’t going to mould her the same way as they did with adonis; she certainly never intended to be a ‘lady’ of any kind and always stirred trouble for her nannies and governesses. from a young age delphine was taught to speak several languages, had a head start in reading and writing, and was shown many self-defence techniques. when she was old enough, she was also taught how to use a gun, which she became incredibly adept at, and even taught herself how to use knives as a weapon.

— when finding out about the ‘family business’, delphine never shied away from the nitty gritty. she was incredibly curious and with all of her incessant questions her father had no choice but to teach her about the table, its history, the family history, and the balance that must be kept within their shadowy underworld.

— attending boarding school allowed delphine freedom. she went to an international school in switzerland, just as her brother and father did, and finally found herself at the centre of attention, which she completely revelled in. she made many friends and admirers and achieved excellent grades. whilst at school, she also met her future husband; they flirted with each other for fun, never thinking anything of it, but what started as a joke turned into real romantic feelings. after deciding to start dating they became glued at the hip, rarely seen apart and always whispering in each other’s ears. they didn’t know it initially, but their respective families knew one another

— in april 1977, when delphine was only 17, she fell pregnant. her first reaction was panic, immediately wondering how her parents would react. they were angry at first, shouting about how irresponsible their perfect daughter had been and what she was supposed to do with her life now. but when things had settled delphine told them that whilst the pregnancy was an accident she had genuinely love for her boyfriend and they believed her, especially when they found out which noble and respected family he was from. for this reason alone they approved of the young couple’s expeditious marriage, with the ceremony being held in late may before delphine’s pregancy began to show.

— just a little over a month after her 18th birthday, delphine’s child was born: a daughter she named jacqueline. barely an adult herself, morgaine wasn’t entirely sure how to be with her baby and neither was her husband. they were both navigating this completely new and terrifying experience together and even though they didn’t really want it (yet, at least) they plowed through and provided nothing but the best for their daughter (maybe a little more emotional involvement wouldn’t have gone amiss…) including the most capable nannies.

— as the months progressed, delphine began to notice a change in adonis. he seemed to shy away from anything business related and always attempted to make excuses for not getting involved. morgaine didn’t know whether her parents hadn’t noticed the change or simply refused to acknowledge it, but she saw it as an opportunity to exploit adonis in order to assume the power he wanted to denounce. one night, when the two of them were alone in the house, she lured him to the top of the grand staircase and with all of her strength kicked him down. he tumbled, hit his head hard, and was dead before his body hit the floor. knowing it would be a maid that found him in the morning, morgaine retreated to bed without remorse. she never had a particularly good relationship with adonis anyway.

— delphine feigned her grief the following day when her parents hastily returned home. she told them she heard nothing in the night and was asleep before the maid’s screams woke her up. her parents were distraught: their precious only son was dead and now they had no choice but to set morgaine up for her new future. she spent a lot more time with her father, who showed her the ins and outs of the family business- the practical and financial aspects and even gave her extra lessons in the ways in which to kill a person. she already had the ruthless montmorency streak running through her like a stick of rock, so needed no teaching in how to remain composed and level-headed.

— when delphine was 34 her father died and she assumed the role as head of table, already having an established reputation for being cold-hearted and merciless. she knew she made etienne proud. her mother was glad she had turned out to be a worthy successor and subtly doted on delphine, who couldn’t care less for the woman who had never before showed much interest in her. loretta then died 8 years later.

— 10 years after jacqueline was born, morgaine and her husband welcomed another daughter, who they named davika. this time it wasn’t an accidental pregnancy and morgaine hoped that, unlike her and adonis, they would grow up to get along even despite the large age difference. although she didn’t say it a lot, especially out loud to anyone other than her husband, she was proud to have daughters and that the next two heads of the table were all going to be women.

— by this time jacqueline was 14, old enough to know the importance of the montmorency family and the status it held in their world and old enough to start being introduced to the more darker aspects of it. she, too, was sent to boarding school for a proper education and in the meantime delphine, whilst making her own mark on the world, was still very happy with her husband (contrary to popular belief- people never thought it would last, but her husband had grown to be equally as ruthless and strong-willed and always looked out for his wife).

— she became a grandmother to jacqueline’s daughter noémie when she was 43. she and delphine had a good relationship and spent quite a bit of time with each other, especially during the summers when they sit together in the garden of the manor. noémie had always been clingy with morgaine and whilst it irritated her at first she soon grew to accept it and realised that it probably helped in strengthening their bond.

other muses: e. crowe / r. thorne / m. fox

[callistochan87]

Writing practice

In the beginning...wait, no, that’s not the right spot at all. One would have to go through millennia watching the grand explosion that is the birth of a planet and its cooling; the boiling hot seas and the dark ash clouds; the bacteria and single-celled organisms that clustered and grew into multi-celled organisms that grew into Things such as mushrooms and plankton and fish and all sorts of life; the evolution of those Things into bigger and more complicated Things, and no one has any time for that.

One could choose a different path: first there was Nothing, and then there was Something, and from there it all fell into pieces, but even that would waste valuable breath. All one needs to know is that there are humans and there are mermaids, and that is all you need to know.

If one were to question the mermaids, they would have an entire different taxonomy: that of Land People and Sea People. Land People were, as the name implies, forever stuck on land, and could only glimpse fractions of the depths; Sea People, as they were, were the superior form because they could experience both land and sea. Not that there was much to see on land beyond rolling wheat fields, cows, and a number of small biting things that served to irritate them as much as they did humans, but they could do both. Every time humans tried to explore the sea for too long, they tended to die, so they must not have been very good at it.

In fact, there was a mermaid alchemist who had initially posited that humans could become mermaids. Mer-alchemy is altogether a different beast than the traditional land alchemy; it divides the world into things that are Water and things that are Not Water, and everything is made up of varying ratios of both. Mermaids? Mostly Water, some Not Water, as they are capable of breathing air. Humans? Mostly Not Water and some Water, as they do bleed and urinate and other things that would suggest they are capable of retaining water, but in a lesser ratio. Most everything on Land was Not Water, although some had enough Water in them to survive underwater, such as rocks. Rocks had a good amount of Water.

The alchemist’s name was Meliore, and her experiments consisted of finding a spare Human, who was not otherwise engaged, and submerging them in the hopes that enough Water would saturate them and then, she surmised, their bodies would naturally acclimate. The first couple of attempts were disastrous, as they flailed and fell asleep before Meliore could teach them how to swim. By the third attempt she decided they needed more time to acclimatize, so she attempted to bring down some Not Water for them first, but once they went deep enough, the Not Water burst and the same thing happened.

Ultimately, she concluded, that there was no way to change this ratio and so it was pointless to try. Her timing was good, as the humans were good and angry at her, and the lesson one should learn from this is that sometimes being wrong is important. You learn from your mistakes as well as your successes, and Meliore did a number of other things that made modern mermaids’ lives so much more comfortable, so it wasn’t a complete failure.

Not that Aoide paid much attention to that. Aoide didn’t pay much attention to school, period, and could have no more told you about Meliore’s experiments than she could have told you about prime numbers. This wasn’t for lack of trying; the teachers and her mother tried everything to engage her interest, from using her skill at harvesting coral to teach her about fractions to trying to teach her history through her great-great grandmother’s bones. The end result was that Aoide had an abacus made of coral beads and a necklace made from her ancestors’ teeth (that was only for special occasions), but still doing poorly in school.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t do well at math or history: she had the aptitude, but not the interest. What did interest her was collecting coral and making it into jewellery, a thing she could only do when the tribe wintered in the warmer waters down south. In the summertime she amused herself by mussel husbandry and cultivating freshwater pearls. She could tell you the best way to get a mussel to open its shell so one could both put the initial bit of sand in and extract it when the pearls were ready; she could tell you approximately how many pearls one could get from a healthy mussel; she could even, once the mussel had exhausted itself, cook it a little under underwater thermal vents, although the taste left something to be desired.

She could weave webs of beads, do some knotwork, and was generally very good at the decorative arts, such that even her own mother called her Coral when she was in a good mood, on account of the copious amounts of jewellery she had. It was a skill, and a needed one: the mermaids’ primary adornment was jewellery and they took much pride in their skill, but Aoide’s mother was convinced she could do other things too, if only she put her mind to it.

[dreaminggoblin]

Wolventraum - Chapter 17

The door Vrehden had come through led to a dimly lit hallway lined with armour sets. They didn't match in make and age, not even in crests. A trophy collection, gathered from the unfortunate souls that made an enemy of Rosamunde. Most of the chest pieces had deep claw marks in them, or were torn apart and later haphazardly tied or stitched back together, or held in place by innumerable thin wooden sticks.

There was armour I recognised from our archives, a chain shirt weighed down by now empty metal hooks that once held potion vials. The cloak that hung in tatters around it still had our crest stitched into it, the black thread of the sword grey with age, the red of the shield fading and frayed.

I searched my mind for the stories that spoke of this armour. It was impractical, having vials hanging all over armour like that, but the Hunter it had belonged to had rarely fought on foot. “This was Master Frundsberg's armour,” I said. More alchemist than Hunter, definitely a little mad, but committed to our cause. He had vanished on duty more than a hundred years ago, but there was still a plate in the lab at headquarters honouring him. And urging people to be cautious with their experiments.

Lucie gingerly touched the cloak, frowning at the fraying fabric. “They put our armour up here like a showroom,” she muttered. “Disgusting.”

I nodded. “Let's keep moving.” I didn't want my own gear to end up here next.

Valentin still heard and smelled only us. It was either an enchantment, or there was really no one here. We all agreed it had to be enchantments. There was no way an Elder Vampire left their lair undefended.

And yet, as we advanced, clearing room after room that led us deeper into the mountain, we found no resistance. Instead, we found weapons, scrolls, old wooden chests filled with trinkets and coins, jewellery taken from the fallen. One room mocked us by having our crest on heavy tapestries that hung from every wall. It was the most cluttered of all of the rooms we had checked. What Vrehden had stolen was here, stacked in crates and open chests and hanging from racks. There was not a speck of dust on anything, and despite the clutter, I could tell it was visited often, like a favourite trophy room.

“Sick bitch,” I muttered.

Next to me, Lucie bent down to a small box of dark wood, embossed with gold. A delicate key still sat in the lock. Carefully, she ran her hands along the box, gently pressed here and there, checking for traps and enchantments. There was nothing. She turned the key, and lifted the lid.

The box was filled with rings. Not the thick, jewelled ones that held protective enchantments in their gemstones, worn by our new Hunters on their first hunts, but thin silver and gold bands, glinting in the torchlight coming from the hallway. Wedding rings. Some had names engraved in them. Those were all polished and clean. One silver ring had Hellene's name on it.

Lucie closed the box and slipped the key into her pocket. “I am going to tear this monster limb from limb,” she said, her voice flat.

“Oh, we will,” I said.

The hallways and rooms were quiet, smelled only of dust and indifference, like not a thing had moved there in centuries. Despite our caution, we saw and heard no thralls, no other vampires, nothing.

Until we reached the inner sanctum of the fortress.

Detailed carvings covered the walls, telling of the history of its lords and ladies. Once, there had been rulers with compassion for the people, if I interpreted the carvings correctly. But generations of cruelty followed. Then, there had been intrigue, an uprising of peasants, the desperate birth of the first vampire. A blood curse, the darkest magic known to man, brought upon a young woman wearing a crown holding a sleeping, or more likely dead, infant in her arms. As I followed the carving through the hall, I learned that the first vampire had been made by drinking the blood of her infant child, in a circle of candles, starved from a long time hiding within the darkness of the inner sanctum as peasants revolted against the rulers. In her bloodlust, the woman killed almost all those desperate nobles who performed the ritual, until four were left when her thirst was slaked. Those, she made her own with her own blood, and thus, five Elder Vampires were born that day.

The last image, carved into the wall near a large gate arch, showed the four others leaving the fortress, though there was no sign of why. Thus, the first Elder Vampire was left alone in the darkness of her besieged home. I assumed she came out in the night to kill the poor villagers. Her child never showed up again, either. If this was truly how these monsters came to be, I could only hope the kid hadn't experienced any of it.

Thralls descended on us the moment we stepped through the gate arch. More than we had ever fought before, and stronger. They communicated with each other, used tactics beyond swarming, watched us and learned our attacks. We were trapped with them in the dark hallway. They had waited for us there, protected by the magic that kept them concealed from Valentin's senses. They dodged faster than any I'd met before and found openings in our patterns to strike.

Viviane's ink beasts formed protective circles around us to buy us time, or tore into the thralls to create openings, while she herself remained hidden within the carved walls. It seemed Rosamunde hadn't prepared for an echo, and her thralls never once took notice of the source of the beasts.

When the last thrall lay unmoving, we allowed ourselves a moment of rest. Viviane fussed over Valentin's already healing injuries, oblivious to the tears in her dress. Lucie and I patched each other up, straining the limits of the first healing kit. But the ink beasts had been formidable, there were few injuries that needed more than cleaning and a few stitches under a thin layer of bandages. Lucie was better with the needle than me, but I had more gashes that needed stitching with the healing thread Master Hellene had given us.

We shared water. Then, we shared matches to burn the thralls, and watched their ashes scatter into the draft of the hallway.

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[digitalcreatorsid]

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