#beyond the belltower

[made-of-wood]

What if Quasimodo went with Esmerelda when asked?

The premise of an AU taking up of 90% of my brain power. Named Beyond the Belltower, for obvious reasons. Working alongside two of my friends on this AU, we've started putting the rot into actual words.

You may find yourself asking, but why would he? Great question, that requires you to look into his shoes, if you had just been through a rough day, upset your master, and now a beautiful woman who showed interest in you (and saved you from further being tormented) offered for you to go with her.... would you say yes?

Updates through this AU will come from this account or @lisimcpisi or @angelosium69. Timeline and One-shots for the AU will be released soon, but please keep in mind this is a Quasimodo centric AU! All feedback welcome.

[lisimcpisi]

Character bios of Quasi and Esme for Beyond the Belltower!

[spitdrunken]

AAAA you've got me curious now! Can I request hc's for what rollo would want his wedding to look like?? I just love how you write him <33!!

anon asked: hc post of rollo’s wedding ideas please i’m itching to know

This is more so Rollo's 'fantasy' of what he'd like the wedding to look like rather than what it might actually look like. (as he would obv be influenced by your desires and input, and those would differ so strongly from person to person i can’t account for it in a post like this.) realistically, his wedding would be SUUUUCH A STRESSFUL EVENT FOR HIM! but this is all from his mind and not exactly realistic.

He would want his wedding to happen in a place with historic value. This may mean that it’s important to your relationship specifically, but most likely it will be a place in the City of Flowers that has seen many marriages throughout the centuries. Most of all, if possible, he would like the ceremony to take place in the Belltower. As closed off as the school campus is to outsiders though, he can’t really see such a thing being allowed. Still, when he imagines it, it’s most often there that he sees it happening.

Overall, he’d want it to be a subdued affair, but no less of a joyful one. Rollo is simply not the type to enjoy large gatherings of people, and would honestly feel uncomfortable being surrounded and congratulated by people he hardly knows. His family would most definitely be there, as they are very important to him, but he leaves whoever you invite up to you. (After all, depending on whether you come from Twisted Wonderland or not, you may not have any family to invite.) In his mind, Rollo always leaves one chair purposefully empty for his brother. 

The fashion is, quite frankly, a little beyond him. If there’s anything he will admit his knowledge is lacking on, it’s this. What he would like to have a say in is the type of flowers used in the corsage. (Rollo would, in fact, be rather picky about the flowers that are displayed during the wedding, and would insist on having quite a few. He’s most favourable towards magical flowers that can only be found in his city.) He would very easily allow you to dress him, but will outright refuse if it’s anything flashy. He simply will not. The only thing he’s rather fixated on is you wearing white. Other than that, he would let you decide on your own what you’re most comfortable in. A strong proponent for not seeing each other until the actual ceremony. 

Oh, the food! Rollo is admittedly rather enthusiastic about that. He might have made some specific notes on it already. If anything’s going to be extravagant about the ceremony, it’s going to be the wedding cake he has in mind. He would be absolutely delighted if you’d let him go all out on that. (And he can’t help but think of you and him going to a bunch of different places around the city as well, taste testing for the big day.) He would adore having little versions of the two of you on top of it as well. 

The exact look of the rings are always a little vague in his fantasies. What does stick out to him clearly is this: The thought of exchanging the one he wears now, the one with the ruby on it, for the ring that will signify the bond you two are about to enter. It would be like shedding off his past self, and becoming closer to you. It could be so symbolic. 

In the setting he’s imagined so far, Rollo wouldn’t mind being the center of attention much, and so he’s grown fond of another idea; taking you for the first dance of the evening. He’d make sure to practice with you plenty beforehand, too. He knows he would need it, and that he shouldn’t err on such an important aspect. There’d be a live band present as well.

[blessed-by-umbral]

The Terror, The Teller, and The Tempest

Daily Writing Challenge, Day 5:

Mistake/Wild

@daily-writing-challenge

Reader Warning:

This prose depicts scenes of violence against women, blood, and verbal abuse. Please read at your own digression.

If you or anyone you know is experiencing abuse please contact:

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233

  ---

Two Years Ago: Four months before Lord Argost Cress’s death.

The intention was to serve tea, complemented by a variety of strawberry tarts; however, the remaining tarts were eaten several days ago. Instead, Ondrea carefully climbed the massively ornate staircase at the heart of the Cress Estate, mindful not to spill the tea or tarnish the sugar. As she ascended, she took a moment to gaze at the enormous stained-glass window at the apex of the stairway, which beautifully captured the colors of the setting sun. The warm shades of pink and gold streamed through the glass, illuminating the lavishly adorned space with a gentle, inviting glow.

Despite the calm atmosphere enveloping her, her mind was filled with chaotic and restless reminiscing.

--

Four months prior:

Tension lingered thickly in the air as Argost stood before a crackling hearth fire, the steady orange glow haloed around his body like an aura. It was a perfect symbolization of his very being-- a man of fire and power.

His piercing green gaze was fixed on Onora, who stood in silence, her posture erect yet her eyes focused on the intricate patterns of the rug below. "I wish not—" she began, but Argost interrupted, his voice a perfect cocktail of authority. "You have no choice." Despite his attempts to embody the gentleness that Elisia urged him to show towards their children, the intimidation in his demeanor remained unyielding.

"Your brother is currently searching for a betrothed, yet we have a unique opportunity at hand. Although House Boissombre is modest in size, it possesses significant potential. The essence of this House has always been to foster and solidify connections. We embrace and prevail in our endeavors. By leveraging the prospects that House Boissombre offers, we can enhance our standing and influence. It is imperative that we capitalize this opportunity."

A subtle shift in her gaze directed her focus toward her father. It was quite peculiar, the wave of warmth that enveloped her chest at that moment. The very passion that her father radiated appeared to ignite a similar flame within her, though their interests remained in contrast.

"I am aware of the whispers surrounding Lord Boissombre—his reputation for cruelty and mercilessness is well-known." An admission of truth. Defying her father was a challenge she seldom embraced, as she had always been the compliant twin, in stark contrast to her sister's boldness. "I am concerned for my own safety." she added after a moment's hesitation, "-And for the well-being of our House."

"The welfare of our estate depends on this," Argost insisted with resolute authority. "You will converse with him, delight in his humor, bestow upon him your enchanting smile, and fulfill the role of the wife he has always dreamed of."

She was afforded no room for rebuttal, for Lord Argost swiveled about and returned to his desk at which he sat, no sooner busying himself with parchments.

Concealed by the shadows that enveloped the dimly lit corridor of the Cress Belltower, Ondrea lingered just beyond the closed door, her presence a mere whisper against the oppressive darkness that surrounded her.

During this period, she assumed the role of a spy, intent on overhearing their conversation. Her motivations were not rooted in malice; rather, they stemmed from a deep-seated desire to ensure the welfare of her sister. While the weight of her father's dominance pressed upon her, and surely Onora, a fierce longing ignited within Ondrea—a yearning for him to experience her own burgeoning power

  ---

“Faaaaarceee.” A murmur of countless voices resonated in her mind. They continued. “No good man.”

She couldn’t agree with the whispers more.

Ondrea contemplated the idea of remaining hidden in the shadows to eavesdrop on Lord Etain's grandiloquent speeches. During their brief encounters, she had been able to discern the facade he presented rather quickly. His smile, unshaven face, and expensive attire failed to mask the man that lay beneath the surface. The darkness of his intentions was evident in his gaze. She could see it, that draw for dominance and power. How could she not, when she so often saw it too when gazing upon her reflection? 

Her feelings towards him were marked by indifference.

Nonetheless, she proceeded in her gait down the hall toward the south wing, nearing Onora's study.

As she approached, a sense of concern washed over her at the sight of Onora's door firmly closed. This was an unusual occurrence, for Onora was known for her inviting nature.

“Curiiiiiooous.” The whispers urged.

The rich carpet that was splayed along the hallway absorbed the sound of her boots as she approached the door. The gentle clinking of the tray echoed softly until she paused beside the oak entryway. Ondrea leaned in; her breath bated as she strained to listen to the conversation unfolding beyond the door.

“What did you say?” Lord Boissombre seethed, his voice a low, menacing whisper. He was towering and formidable. His hair, a deep shade of black, was slicked back meticulously. Unfortunately for Onora, this meant his angered expression was on full display.

"If I must repeat myself, then so be it, Lord Boissombre. I have no intention of marrying you. We are not a match.” Onora swallowed, timid, yet confident. Though, an additional voice petered within the recess of her mind. An unfamiliar choir of whispers.

“Beware.” They warned.

Onora winced as if she suffered from a random headache, yet she persisted. “You are unkind not only to our people but to those who serve us.” The latter was offered less sternly, but more so an addendum of mourning. “I cannot possibly imagine bearing your children."

Those words struck a nerve with Lord Boissombre, for without preamble he raised his powerful hand and struck at her with the back of it.

"Loathsome wench!"

It happened all too quickly. Onora lost her footing and fell back. Her side collided sharply with the edge of her ornate desk, sending a cacophony of ledgers, an ink quill, and various trinkets cascading to the floor. The sound echoed through the room, a symphony of chaos, as one particular object—a dagger belonging to Ondrea—clattered among the debris.

In one swift motion, he loomed over her, one hand gripping the lace of her bodice while the other descended to deliver another strike to her face. Within moments, she found herself on the ground, with his aggressive hand firmly pressing against her throat.

“Your desires are irrelevant; what holds significance is my will. You are an object of ownership, destined to bear children according to my wishes and timing, with no input from you.”

The force of his hold around her neck intensified, constricting her airway with alarming severity. As the edges of Onora's sight began to blur and fade into an encroaching shadow, her fading gaze flitted anxiously over his face.

In a desperate attempt to escape, her heels scraped against the floor, creating a chaotic rhythm that echoed her instinct for survival. In that critical moment, Onora's hands frantically sought out any object within reach, anything that might serve as a means to free her.

With a desperate urgency, her trembling fingers grasped the pommel of Ondrea's dagger. “Do it.” Voices. Hundreds, all in unison. “You will die if you don’t.” They sounded gleeful, as if they knew Onora’s choice was singular.

As soon as her hold was secure, she drove the blade deep into his rib cage. She continued to thrust the weapon into him repeatedly, screaming and driven by the fervent hope that he would finally loosen his grip on her throat.

A wild and primal scream erupted from Lord Boissombre. Raw and laden with disbelief.

In the brief moments that followed, Ondrea hastily set the tray aside and rushed to open the door. A single glance at the unfolding scene was sufficient for her to reach a decisive conclusion. Lord Boissombre must die.

Onora exhibited an unyielding ferocity in her assault, prompting Lord Boissombre to loosen his hold on her solely to attempt a strike against her attacking arm. The dagger's keen edge grazed his skin, slicing into his fingers and palm until fragments of flesh hung loosely. She didn't stop. She couldn't.

“Yes-yes-yes!” The whispers harmoniously cheered. “Kill him—” They encouraged. "KILL HIM!"

The stabbing persisted, transforming from a mere thudding noise into a rising symphony of wet punctures. Lord Boissombre released his grip on her throat, attempting to wrest the dagger from her hold. His hands, slick with blood, grappled and contended, determined to prevail over her with no avail.

With a swift twist of the blade, Onora retracted her hand momentarily before thrusting it forward, driving the blade deep into his chest.

"Onora!" Ondrea hurriedly advanced as Lord Boissombre stood, only to trip against the desk. A strangled sound escaped him, tainted with blood as it spilled from his mouth. He gasped, his injured hand grasping for the dagger's handle, glancing down in bewilderment. His gaze shifted back to the twins before his blue eyes fluttered and rolled back in his head. Lord Boissombre lurched forward and collapsed, the force of his fall resulting in a crack of his chest bone as he drove the dagger deeper into himself with the impact.

“I-it was a mistake.” She trembled, voice and body alike. “—a mis—take…it was a m---” On and on she continued that litany, held close by her other half. They remained close, even long after Lord Boissombre’s blood had cooled on Onora’s hands.

--

@onora-cress approved this prose and assisted with her character's decision making. ♥

[roughdaysandart]

Sneak-peek from the Ch 6 edits (Rough Day fanfic comic script edits)

"Somehow this feels….. unfamiliar, strange. She's been close to his body, they've embraced before, quietly murmured together in the dark. She’s come to know him only by touch, and it's different; wonderful, but different. And although his shes never seen it, she knows it. Him, recollection vividly buzzing in her fingertips. All of its curves, its imperfections, its textures. It's more than seeing, she comprehends his face, or at least everything but that one small section below his nose. Beyond Beskar, beyond darkness, she knows it. But right now, she can see him this close, something her eyes have no familiarity of. It’s an entirely new sensory experience, an uncharted way of taking him in, even with that profound knowing."

*Credit to @no-droids for Original Rough Day fanfic, Abridged for Christian Rommates by @roughdaysandart

Context: Sweet Girl/Mando Back on the ship after Corelia, he's just bandaged up her arm, and hes asked if she wants to know his name. upon saying that he should only do it if he really wants to, he brings his face closer than its ever been bofore (being in disbelief of her principality) in the light (thus far, ive altered the intimacy progression so at this time his naked face has only been near/felt by her hands/shoulders in the dark (AFCR) ,so its a big deal for her)

Had to add this part in because again, when altering the timeline of the progression of intimacy (yes, ive decided to make them lip-kiss at the belltower and have implied spicy tango after marriage/showing face) the next progression/milestone I could add was her being able to SEE him THIS close in the light (and ANOTHER cute thing &lt;3).

I plan to cover up the god-tier smut by instead making Din kiss her for the first time on the cheeck/face (in this ABCR version, she only felt his face thus far, theyve never felt eachothers lips because he was nervous hed fuck it up/never don it before, and she didnt want to push and make him feel pressured to do the same if she initiated and he was somehow unsure how to respond/do). After the feeling his lips the first time ,with her eyes closed obvi, he takes the opprotunity to give her the shot, make her faint, and tell her his name as she loses conciousness.

Even cuter: I plan to replace the smut from ch 7 (rushed) with SG kissing HIS face/check for the first time in the light (hyperspace)! cute! But then you know....immediatley interrupted by the drop in hyperspace then the PCOS-crisis headcannon to replace and expand on the 'rushed' (or lack of being) aspect of the title.

Yeah.... theres not much i could do with the 'rushed' theme of ch 7 being incorporated into the first-time-SG to Mando kiss in hyperspace, it would just be like.....her putting his lips on his head for a long time (i mean they WILL but the point is for it to be a slow steady step in this version of their relashionship, not leading to a full make-out sesh)?....it had to be a new scenario for my purposes, but still glad i could include an inimacy progression anyway, it just will relate to the chapter title less.

[yellow-faerie]

Early Morning Walk

A snippet from a fic I'm currently working on where I give Fëanor and Nerdanel 12 kids (as that's considered a lucky number by many elves due to the Awakening at Cuiviénen) - I do this by putting all my various Fëanoriel OCs into the family at the same time :)

“Don’t take this personally or anything,” Findekáno starts, finishing the last half of the fifth bottle of wine, “but my darling, you really need to get a life beyond your family.”

Maitimo, who had finished the other half of the bottle, lets out a weary sigh and sinks back against the grass. The dew seeps into the back of his shirt. “They would kill themselves without me Finno. I couldn’t in good conscience leave them.”

“No, no, no, I don’t mean leave them, just…” Findekáno wrinkles his nose before waving the wine bottle dangerously close to Maitimo’s head as he fails to find the right word. “Just.”

“I don’t have the time for that.”

“See!” Findekáno sits up, letting the bottle roll away from him and drip the last dregs of the wine onto the ground. His eyes are bright and burning and his face is alight in a righteous fury. “See this is what I mean! You do all this stuff for them and you don’t have any time for yourself.”

Maitimo smiles, a little indulgently. “Dearest, I don’t think you quite understand how my family works.”

“Then tell me,” Findekáno rocks forward to take Maitimo’s hands in his, “I want to know how anything on this earth could be more important than your time.”

Findekáno’s hands are warm in his, and Maitimo gently squeezes them. “Later, dearest, you’re really rather too intoxicated to remember this in the morning anyway.”

“I would for you,” Findekáno promises boldly and leans forward with the clear intention for a rather drunk kiss – but Maitimo is a few bottles short of being as intoxicated as he, and deftly avoids the affection by leaning forward to pick up the wayward bottle and returning it to the basket they’d brought them in.

He gets Findekáno to his house around the third tolling from the belltower, and makes sure Turukáno finds him before he falls asleep in the garden, and then Maitimo makes the long, winding way back to his own house.

It is by no means the same as Formenos, a place that had started as a sprawling family home for Fëanáro and Nerdanel’s ever-growing family and had slowly become a bustling town over the years, but it has its own unique charm.

Fëanáro had had it built soon after the triplets had been born and it sat just beyond the great walls of the city so that it had space for the large gardens and the sprawling mess of rooms, for Fëanáro had made sure each of his children would have both a bedroom to themself and a space for them to devote to their craft (and he had made sure that his and his wife’s studios were quite the opposite side of the house).

Maitimo walks down past the industrial district, quiet at this point at Telperion’s height, and through the market, still colourful despite the few vendors around. He gets past the few residential houses before reaching the last great gate to the fields beyond.

“Late night?” Silnendo asks, as he unlocks the side door for him. He is an old friend, so Maitimo does not let himself get to up-in-arms about the gentle teasing.

“Nothing happened. Nothing ever happens, whatever you suggest.”

“I was suggesting nothing.” Silnendo sniffs, as if finding suggesting things to be entirely beneath him, and gives the door a hearty push to dislodge it. “Get some sleep! And you can use me as an excuse if your father catches you sneaking back in!”

“Thanks,” Maitimo replies dryly and keeps walking, Silnendo’s quiet laughter trailing behind him.

He should have told Silnendo that he doesn’t need an excuse anymore, not since he had had to quick talk an excuse a few months prior, but he and Silnendo see each other so much less since when they were both little that it seemed entirely defunct.

He walks past the gates of the house, and glimpses the grand front doors through the trees that bow and bend over the driveway. It takes him an extra few minutes to get around the side of the garden but he ends up at the small bit of fence that had started to collapse in and Curufinwë, with a new born son to care for, had not yet got around to fixing it.

He hops over it, and follows the path that so many pairs of feet had trod on their ways back from clandestine meetings much like his. It’s a wonder neither of his parents have noticed yet.

Telperion’s light is dark through the leaves of the trees but Maitimo has picked the lock on the kitchen side door so many times, he does not need to be able to see what he is doing.

The door clicks, echoing through the quiet house, and Maitimo winces at the sound as he closes it behind him as quietly as he can.

“Nelyo,” someone whispers from the shadows and Maitimo nearly jumps out of his own skin.

“Altë, don’t scare me like that,” he scolds, giving his littlest sister his best scowl. She frowns, and despite being so close to her first majority, Maitimo can see tears shining in her eyes.

“I had the nightmare about the dark again and when I woke up, I couldn’t find anyone. Atto and Ammë weren’t in their room and I was lonely so I came down for a glass of water, because that’s what you always do when we have a nightmare.”

Maitimo softens – he always softens when it comes to his little siblings. “That’s right, a glass of water always helps. Water helps wash away the darkness, it’s why it was so difficult for Morgoth to corrupt the Maiar of Ulmo back in his war with the Valar.”

He takes a glass down from the top shelf of the cupboard and scoops some up from the bucket Maitimo had drawn from the well before going to meet Findekáno. He dries it off on towel and hands it to her.

“Let’s go back upstairs,” he says, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We can read something together until the nightmare goes away.”

[govindhtech]

Forest Hills The Last Year Upcoming Horror Game

Forest Hills The Last Year

The Hyaenic Productions-published asymmetric horror game Forest Hills: The Last Year will be developed by Undaunted Games. The October 2024 release will combine survival horror with multiplayer dynamics to create a terrifying and immersive experience.

Forest Hills The Last Year Gameplay The players of Forest Hills The Last Year are immediately transported to the dark and ominous town of Forest Hills to begin their adventure. Five players, who are collectively referred to as the Displaced, compete against one player who is in charge of a terrifying Fiend in this game. In order to achieve the numerous tasks and get away from the Fiend, who is continually pursuing them down, the Displaced need to collaborate with one another (Worthplaying) (All Hallows Geek).

The game mechanics of Forest Hills The Last Year include a number of distinct gaming aspects, including the following:

The game is primarily focused on 5v1 multiplayer gameplay, which is known as asymmetric multiplayer. In this game, five players take on the role of the Displaced and are tasked with surviving and escaping, while the sixth player, the Fiend, employs powerful supernatural abilities to hunt them down.

The Displaced are required to gather resources and create weapons in order to protect themselves. Resource management and crafting are also required. Players are required to make decisions on when to hide, when to fight, and when to gather supplies (TGG), which adds an additional degree of complexity to the game.

Dynamic Objectives: Each map has varied objectives that change with each game, ensuring that each and every time you play, you will have a new and exciting experience. (Welcome to Steam) The gameplay is kept interesting and tough thanks to the high degree of variety. Fiends and Maps That Are Unique: When the game is released, it will have seven different maps and six different Fiends, each of which will have their own set of powers and techniques. There are a variety of landscapes included in the maps, including The Library, The Belltower, The Gym, The Sawmill, The Mine, The Forest, and The Cemetery .

The process of development and release Forest Hills The Last Year release date The game was originally scheduled for early access in June 2024, but the makers chose a full launch in October. To offer a more sophisticated and comprehensive experience from the start, we reached this conclusion. The game will receive frequent content upgrades until 2025 and beyond, ensuring long-term support and updated content .

Troma Entertainment participated in the collaboration The fact that Troma Entertainment was involved in the development of the game is among the most fascinating things surrounding it. Troma-themed objects and Fiends are introduced into the game as a result of this relationship, which gives the game a distinctive flavour. During the PAX East gaming event (also known as All Hallows Geek), the new map with a graveyard theme and the Fiend that is now known as the Warlock will be displayed for the first time.

Extending the Number of Members and Content For the purpose of further improving the game, Undaunted Games has dramatically increased the size of its staff. The legendary comic book artist and professional wrestler Andy ‘Bob Anger’ Belanger, who is currently working on the game’s artwork, is one of the notable additions. The recruitment of more members for the creative team is being done with the intention of enhancing the game’s visual and narrative components.

Upgrades to the Audio and Visual Systems

Additionally, both the audio and visual components of the game have been enhanced. In order to further enhance the immersive nature of the horror experience, new music and sound effects have been carefully crafted in partnership with Pixel Audio. Additionally, the game’s ambiance is improved by the addition of upgraded lighting, weather effects, and complex textures, which contribute to the overall worth of the game (TGG).

What the Future Holds It is anticipated that Forest Hills The Last Year will have a huge impact on the horror gaming genre when it is finally delivered in its entirety in October of 2024. Its blend of strategic gameplay, rich locations, and the one-of-a-kind dynamic of asymmetric multiplayer promises to deliver an experience that is compelling for fans of horror games as well as fans of multiplayer games.

Final Thoughts Out of all the horror games currently available, Forest Hills The Last Year is shaping up to be a game that stands out from the crowd. It is a highly anticipated release due to the fact that its mechanics have been carefully considered, that it features intriguing multiplayer dynamics, and that it is committed to providing a high-quality gaming experience from the very beginning. This game is definitely one that you should keep an eye out for, regardless of whether you are a fan of survival horror, games that include many players, or simply appreciate a good shock.

Read more on Govindhtech.com

[silhouette-anon]

She blushes.

“I’d love that, heh- It’s been forever.”

They eventually get out of the woods, at the crest of a decently sized hill. Beyond it, farmland, vineyards, and forest stretches for miles, dotted by old fashioned villages, windmills, and belltowers. It seems to be spring, here, despite the circus beginning to prepare for summer. A river runs from nearby, all the way out to the visible sea

...He stops, staring out at the horizon, his eyes widened in awe.

..This is beautiful.

He couldn't help but stand there and stare.

...He pried his eyes away from a field that looked similar to the one that used to be in his backyard.

[dailyadventureprompts]

I was wondering if you’d be able to help me flesh out a loose idea I had for a location that I’d like to include in my homebrew setting at some point.

It’s a theocratical city-state with a heavy bell aesthetic. Like, the city is absolutely littered with bell towers, and whichever divinity is worshipped here uses bell as their holy symbol. Aside from being situated in a seemingly peaceful stretch of grasslands, and world itself being somewhat high-magic… that’s all I have so far.

Any ideas as to what this place could be beyond the vague idea I’m sitting on? And what sort of adventures do you think could be had here?

I’d appreciate any help you’re willing to offer with this! Thank you!

Setting: The Plains of Stormgraven

"Leave it to fanatics to build their home in the one place the gods seem intent on wiping off all the maps.”

Setup:  Once the sight of a great transgression against the divine, the grand pastoral realms now known as Stormgraven are today an expanse of calm, rolling fields, tempest haunted badlands, and expansive, half buried ruins that only hint at the calamity still echoing through the plains to this day. 

There are three sorts of people who live in the region: 

Scavengers looking to pick through ancient ruins, (which can be sorted into “academic” or “tomb raiding” types respectively) There’ve been ruins so long in the plains that this group has solidified into it’s own ethnicity with cultural rites, festivals, and a nomadic, adventurous flair. 

Simple farmers wanting to make good use of land despite the rustlers looking to steal their livestock and the cyclones looking to steel their houses, mostly made up of descendants from a long fallen empire. 

The Resoundant, a community of religious exiles from a neighboring kingdom who fled to the plains after they lost a generations long civil war that they also started. Fleeing a “decadent and ungodly” homeland some two centuries ago, they’ve built themselves a great polis warded from the region’s hostile weather by it’s innumerable sacred bells. 

These three groups push against eachother with varying levels of hostility: The Resoundant hire the scavengers to clear out ruins for them to ensure the land is safe for settling, but believe the treasures pulled from deep undergorund belong to them by divine right. The Farmers are happy to feed the holyfolk in exchange for warding against the storms, but chafe under the increasingly restrictive religious duties that are added to their lives. The scavengers bring plenty of outside coin into the region with their trade, but seem more than happy to turn bandit when times are lean. 

Hallowtoll, the great city-state of the plains is where all these peoples and conflicts mingle together, a turbulent place in the otherwise peaceful plains, or the only calm eye when storms sour the countryside. 

Adventure Hooks: 

Hired by outsiders to delve a particular ruin, the party finds themselves at odds with a scavenger-band who’s been exploring the region for generations. Does the party clash with the locals, or make their way past their initial foux-pas to work with them? How about sharing their wealth with the band, rather than some outside historian who decided to lay claim to it? 

Forced to stop their travels by a windstorm that threatened to blow them off the road, the party shelters alongside a farmer-enclave built partially under/into a hill. it’d be a fine, folksy time getting to know the families and townsfolk sheltering there with them, if not for the  quarrelsome Resoundant preacher who’s seems intent on finding fault with everything and every one. On the fourth night in, and with no signs of the storm clearing up anytime soon, The preacher is murdered, leaving the party with an Agatha-Chrsitie style mystery to solve. There’s also the added threat that if the culprit isn’t found and the Resoundant find out, there’s a good chance that the enclave will come under threat of some more retributive members of the faith. 

The belltowers of Hallowtoll are a wonder all unto themselves, with families and priests alike competing to see who can built the biggest, grandest, and loudest tower in their region. Older towers are often left to crumble as newer projects capture the attention of their patrons, creating a warren of urban dungeons rife for exploration. Likewise, all this fevered building is likely to attract the attention of certain strange forces of architecture that come to dwell within the abandoned geometries. 

History: The source of the gods ire is the Olgracian dominion, a state over two millennia gone that none the less managed to offend the gods so bad that the heavens still havent forgiven them.  The Olgrac were a proud people who worshiped a god of forge and field, and so had a surging, well armed populace that they used to subdue their neighbors into vassaldom.  This was typical for just about any empire through history, but what made the Olgrac different was their habit of taking home the statues and idols of their neighbor’s gods in chains to represent their defeat, and throwing the priests of defeated nations into their forges to create weapons infused with divine magic. Needless to say, the other gods didn’t like this, and collectively summoned a windstorm of such magnitude that it leveled the Olgracian capital,  blew out the priest-eating forges like a candle, and ripped the mostly-innocent forgegod into so many pieces that not even their name is remembered to this day. The storm raged for a century, scouring the dominion from the earth and providing such a good deterant that just about everyone stayed away from the Stormgraven plains until a few centuries prior to the present day. 

Further Adventures: 

The forge-god is not dead, but scattered, ripped asunder into a number of aspects that subtly long to be reunited. Once contemplative and mostly peiceful, the forge-god now has a desire to revenge himself on the other gods, and will seek to rebuild the Olgrac dominion using the Resoundant as their new chosen people, coopting their faith and their resentment against their exile for its own ends. 

Here’s some idea for some aspects: 

An ever-burning ember of creativity and skill, which has come into the possession of the master of one of the Hallowtoll Bellfoundes. the master’s mind is now full of ambition and drive, and bells worked in fire of this ember whisper the forgegod’s influence to those that hear them. The forgemaster also has cannons on the brain, and is testing out various designs. 

A mummified hand and forearm found in a ruin. which points the way towards great treasures of the old empire. Currently in possession of a scavenger band that’s gone full bandit, gathering other outlaws to itself and following the “relic’s” direction for even greater plunder. Unbekonwsned to any of them, they also happen to be gathering weapons and artifacts of the old empire that are important for the forgegod. 

A scarred stone, sheer enough on one side to be used as a grand table, that gives the lands surrounding it bounty and fertility. A secret circle of elders among the surrounding farmer enclaves know the secret of the stone, and meet to sacrifice troublesome members of their groups or unmissed outsiders upon it to ensure its gifts, buring the bodies in the earth around it. On this makeshift altar the other aspects must be gathered, at which point it will crack, and the forgegod’s new body will walk free. 

Art1

Art2

[theyareweird]

The Monster High School Map

This map was once available on the original Monster High website before all the updated changes. As the Monster High franchise expanded, more details were added to the school. However, this is the first map created and it only features a basic format of the building. This article will cover the entire school map.

The Map Key features five noted details. First, grass. Any light green areas with green tiger stripes are grass locations. Second, stairs. White rectangles with black lines are staircases. Third, parking. Gray and silver areas with black lines are parking lot locations. Fourth, classrooms. Light blue boxes are individual classrooms which are unlabeled. Finally, dark pink locations are sitting areas.

Like the school grounds, the first floor is supposedly in the shape of a coffin. Upon walking through the main entrance, students find the coffin corridor where their lockers are kept. The left contains the first floor library. On the right are four classrooms. Past the lockers is the Creepateria. Left of it is the Study Howl. The right holds the Auditorium. Past the lunch room is the Indoor Gym. Left of this is the Indoor Pool. The Soccer Field is on the right. Towards the back of the school is the Football Field.

On the second floor, the Faculty Lounge can be found on the left. Past the lounge is the second floor to the library. The right side of the main entrance appears to contain two offices. Past these two office rooms are eight individual classrooms. The end of the main hall is the Headmistress' Office. Any unknown pink areas are most likely second coffin corridors. Beyond this is another designated area for classrooms. The left has seven classrooms. Nine additional classrooms are located on the right.

Finally, the top third “floor” is supposedly a standalone room. It contains the Belltower. There, many bats can be found sleeping.

What do you think? Do you like the entire school layout? If not, why? Please share with me!

[falconcoast]

songbird | albedo x reader.

his royal highness gets ready for the day. his chirping birds accompanying him as he laments about a dream, his responsibilities, and you. 

general masterlist

a/n: BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH A ROYAL ALBEDO AU!! same context as “the prince and the scholar” (which isn’t necessary to understand this one) but i would say it takes place in the same AU as the aforementioned fic, serving a prequel. anyways, personally, i think that prince albedo can talk to birds. i mean, have you seen his eyes?? they’re so soft, and his voice is so sweet D:

tags: prince albedo, fluff, supposedly one-sided pining but you’d only know that if you read the prince and the scholar

the morning dawn broke over the kingdom hills, spilling into the crown prince’s room. songbirds chirped at albedo’s window, and he rubbed at his eyes. the silk sheets felt much more comfortable than the satin garments he was supposed to get into. 

sighing, he rolled on his side, snuggling up into another pillow. briefly, he heard the fluttering of feathers and the twittering of birds on the open balcony of his tower overlooking the lake. when the blond did not move, the chirping became even louder. 

“i hear you, alright,” he murmured, pulling himself up in bed. he reached for the small braids in his hair, undoing them and running a hand through it.  “you know, i was having the most lovely dream before you went and woke me up.” 

rising from the bed, albedo made his way to the balcony, approaching the small flock of birds who sung their songs. leaning against the balcony, he held out a finger for a bluebird to rest on. “what was it about? that is a secret.”

the warblers whistled out a note of discontent. “i suppose i can tell you, as long as you promise not to tell them,” he laughed, stroking at the silky feathers of the bird. 

he turned a looked out into his garden and the surrounding walls of his tower. the reflecting pools shimmered the hues of the sunrise and painted the cecilias a baby pink. beyond his residence, he saw the tiny figures of servants walking about the front lawns of the castle, already ready for the day. among them would be you, the resident scholar of the palace, and whom he sought the affection of. “it was about that intellectual from sumeru.”

the bluebird chirped, tilting its head. “yes, yes. the one who feeds you crumbs while we have breakfast on the balcony. they are very pretty, are they not?” the flock tweeted happily, dancing on the railing of the balcony. “a wonderful person indeed. i had a dream that we walked together around the castle grounds. we danced beneath the moonlight and shared a kiss.”

the songbirds chirped wildly, conveyed their opinions to the prince. the birds flew up, pecking at his neck and pulling at his hair. “what is the fuss? a kiss is nothing scandalous. i think that it was a pleasant dream.” 

the bluebird on his finger twittered, fluttering its wings at him. “about the scholar? why, they’re lovely. you’ve all seen them when we discuss matters right here on the balcony. gentle, kind, and very beautiful.”

the belltower chimed, causing the birds to hop about. “it seems i cannot even catch a break to enjoy my dream,” albedo sighed, letting the bird on his finger fly into his room. turning, he followed. he stared at his vanity momentarily, gazing at the soon-to-be king of mondstadt. frankly, he didn’t look the part, with his hair askew from his flying friends and cowlick sticking up like a small sprout. he pushed it back once, then twice, before eventually conceding. 

moving to his vast wardrobe, full of silken cloths, satin trousers, and linen sweaters, he eventually picked a simple outfit, one to match the white garments you adorned every day. “i was wearing this same outfit in my dream, you know,” he began humming as he slipped behind the dressing screen, taking his clothes with him.

his royal highness got dressed for the day, and when he appeared from behind the dressing screen, the birds immediately flocked at his shoulders. one gave him a ribbon to tie his hair back, another a brush, and another struggled to drag his golden sash over to him. he took it all gratefully, sitting at the vanity that was covered in the stray beauty products, alchemical devices that he had yet to clean up, and several birds, twittering about. his mirror reflected the morning sun, crossing his cheekbones and turning his hair a golden blond. this was the face of mondstadt’s next king, and the responsibilities that were going to be piling on his plate seemed ever evident. 

quickly, he combed his hair and put on his sash, before leaning on his vanity with an elbow to his cheek. the birds huddled around him, tilting their heads at him as to ask him what was wrong. “nothing, nothing. i’m only slightly melancholic.”

a bluebird hopped onto his hand, whistling a note of sadness. “i am doleful because i can only tell them of my affections in my dreams. if it weren’t for my status, i would have already told them. however, as the crown prince with my duties of getting married on the horizon, i cannot. it’s a sad thought, no?”

a warm breeze fluttered through the white curtains of the alchemist’s bedroom, along with a knock on the door. “enter,” he called, taking the blue songbird on his hand with him as he stood. 

“good morning, your highness,” a familiar voice said, peeking through his doorway. his heartbeat sped up, and the birds whistled softly. you entered, wearing clothes that matched his own color palette, and as beautiful as the morning dew. a basket full of breakfast items sat one hand and in the other, books and anthologies he had asked for the day before. smiling, you motioned to your items. “i’ve brought your breakfast, and the books you wanted to discuss the day before, but it seems you are with company. if you wish, i will only drop them here.” 

“with company?” he questioned, before the bird on his hand twittered. “oh, my apologies. i shall part with them if they are not to your liking.” 

“oh, no. they’re just fine,” you replied, waving a hand. fishing in your basket, you pulled out a small mason jar full of kernels. “i’ve noticed that whenever we have breakfast together, your birds are on the railing. i brought some birdseed for them. may i feed them, your highness?”

“of course,” he whispered, watching as your hands popped open the lid. setting the jar and other items down on his vanity, you pinched some of the feed before letting the bluebird on his hand go into your own. it pecked at your hand, and you laughed.

“it seems this one quite likes me,” you giggled, stroking its feathers. it crooned, leaning into your hand, and your eyes met his, shining softly.  “what do you think, albedo?”

albedo. his name, no honorifics or titles or anything of the sort. it was the first he’d even heard you call him by his name. his heart beat faster, watching as the songbird whistled happily in your hand. the sun made you seem simply divine, and he knew then and there that he was completely infatuated with you. who wouldn’t be; even the warbler was in love with you. 

“albedo?” you asked again. the bluebird tilted its head, chirping happily. 

“yes, it likes you very much,” he breathed out, sighing dreamily as you laughed.

[made-of-wood]

POSTING AT 6! AM!

Chapters 5-6 Are UP OF BEYOND THE BELLTOWER! I AM FINALLY TRYING TO CLAW MY WAY OUT OF WRITERS BLOCK.

The next chapters are when things ACTUALLY bring in Frollo, so that'll. Be. FUN!!

anyways

go read, thank u, I appreciate u

[lisimcpisi]

It’s y’a boi back at it again

all these lil doodles are part of an HoND AU, Beyond the Belltower, I’ve been working on with @made-of-wood and @angelosium69 !! You can read the general synopsis here but TLDR Quasi decides to go with Esmeralda to the court of miracles and nothing bad ever happens as a result from this at allllll-

these doodles were when we were first starting out. I’ve got some other more,,, angsty doodles that I’ll share later. These are just to give y’all a taste for what’s in store.

[alarawriting]

52 Project #33: Amaldis

Yikes, I completely forgot to post this! Hard day at work. -------------------------------------------

The prince was young and handsome, as they all were, with the sort of arrogant good looks that wealth and power almost always brought.  It was a tragedy that so many of these young men had to die, the old woman thought.  Such a waste. She stepped out into the road, into the pathway of his horse.

The horse reared up as the prince pulled on the reins.  "Out of my way, old woman!"  he shouted.

"Are you going to the capital?"  the woman asked.  She was over 40, but well-fed, clean and well-dressed.  His eyes flickered over her, as if trying to decide her station.

"Yes.  What business is it of yours?"

"Have you come to join? To swear allegiance to the sorceress Amaldis?"

"No."  The prince's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword as fury darkened his features.  "I've come to kill the witch."

"Are you a fool, young man?"  The woman's eyes blazed, and she stepped up to his horse, glaring up at him.  "Threescore young men, brave and noble, have come to Cythia to kill the sorceress, and all of them have died.  Are you so arrogant and foolish as to believe you'll succeed where so many have failed?"

"I don't fear the witch's sorcery,"  the prince said firmly.  "I have a good sword and a trusty mount.  That's all I need."

"Oh, you are a fool.  A younger son? Expendable? You need to do something impossible, to make a name for yourself?"

"She stole lands that belong to my father!"  he shouted, his face purpling.  "My family's honor is at stake!"

"And so you'll die for your family's honor."

"If I die, at least I'll die in glory."

"Glory?" There was cold fury in the woman's voice.  "Let me tell you what glory is, boy.  Glory is a corpse rotting in a field, the crows plucking its eyes.  Glory is your lover weeping, knowing her man will never come home.  Glory is children bereft of fathers, crops burning, women raped, people enslaved.  I spit on your glory."  And she did, spitting on his boots.

The prince drew his sword, provoked beyond endurance, and swung it to behead the woman.  But she wasn't there.  Startled, he looked about himself, trying to find her.

The ground rumbled. The trees lining the road shed leaves in a storm of colors, and the earth began to shake.  The prince's horse reared up in terror, and tried to run, paying no heed when the prince pulled at the reins.  Then a chasm opened at the horse's feet, and horse and prince tumbled in together, screaming.

The chasm closed, and all was normal again.  Except for hoofprints that led to the midst of a meadow and vanished, it was as if the horse and rider had never been.

***

The scene vanished from the focusing crystal as the woman leaned back.  Her apprentice, Joraine, asked, "Did you have to kill him?"

Amaldis turned.  She was a stout woman of peasant stock, appearing to be a well-cared-for dowager of over 40 or so, with wavy black hair and blazing black eyes.  The fire in those eyes died slightly, to be replaced by sorrow, as she spoke.

"Sometimes it can be avoided,"  she told Joraine, a large-boned woman in her late twenties or early thirties. "But not this time.  You heard him.  I tried to get him to turn back, but no.  He was bound and determined to die gloriously."

"It seems so cruel,"  Joraine said. "All these brave young men, in the prime of their lives..."

"Yes.  It is cruel, and a waste.  But it's them or us.  If they had their way, they would make you a serf; condemn you to backbreaking labor all your life, with only the bare necessities of life in return.  Some would demand the right to rape you on your wedding night, or whenever you took their fancy; others would allow their priests to torture you for refusing to spout their doctrines; still others would conscript your sons to die in their wars."  Amaldis shook her head.  "Sooner or later, a group of these young heroes will come together and raise a truly massive army, perhaps a thousand men or more.  That will be tragic.  Because my powers won't be enough to hold them off entirely; and our people will have to fight and die."

"Why do they keep coming if you keep killing them?"

"You heard the one just now.  Honor and glory are worth more than their lives, and they think we stole their land."

"We did steal their land."

"Who gave them the right to own it?"  Amaldis looked hard at Joraine, and some of the fire came back to her eyes.  "We asked people if they wanted to be ruled by lords, or if they wanted to rule themselves.  They wanted to rule themselves, so we extended the borders of Cythia to their areas and let them.  As far as I'm concerned, the land belongs to the people who work it, not the nobles who get fat off it."

"Yes, but I'm saying, from their point of view we stole it."

"Yes.  And so they'll never leave us alone."  She sighed.  "That's why I want you a master sorceress as soon as possible, Joraine. Our defenses are strong, but they all rest on me, and I'm only one woman.  The most powerful sorceress in the world will still die if someone gets close enough to put a crossbow bolt through her throat."

"We have a militia, Amaldis.  They'd die to defend you, and so would I.  Anybody in Cythia would-- all of us love you."

"But everyone else in the world is trying to kill me."

"Don't talk like that!"  Joraine got up, distressed, and looked down at Amaldis.  "Remember the First Rule? 'When a magician and a swordsman fight, the magician will always win, provided she is smarter.' You're certainly smarter."

"Amend that rule. 'Provided she is smarter and makes no mistakes.' I'm 200 years old, Joraine, and I'm tired of being paranoid. I'm tired of constantly scanning to see if anyone is after me.  But I can never stop, because if I die, Cythia dies with me.  Unless you can protect it."

"I'm only 35," Joraine said quietly. "You've got 8 score more years of power built up in you.  Even when I turn master in a few years, I won't have nearly the power you do." She walked around to Amaldis and put her arms around her mentor's shoulders.  "Is something wrong?"

"Yes..." Amaldis stared into space. "I've had a premonition."

"Of what?"

"I don't know. Something terrible.  I don't know..."

Abruptly, awkwardly, Joraine hugged Amaldis.  "I won't let it,"  she whispered fiercely.  "Nothing's going to happen to you, so long as I have breath in my body to prevent it. You're the only mother I ever had, Amaldis, and I won't let you die."

***

Mor rode through the fields and woods of Cythia, heading steadily for the capital.

He was a big, brawny, barbarian type, proficient in any weapon but best with his broadsword, which was unbelievably large.  He came from a country many, many miles away, where he had successfully killed over a dozen magic-wielders.  He had also been offered the position of heir to the kingdom of Lowellan, if he could kill the sorceress Amaldis.  And he had no doubts about his ability to do so.

All this Amaldis could gather just from watching him through the focusing crystal.  It had been three days since the last prince had come, and she'd dispatched him; three days since she'd told Joraine about her premonition. A chill went down her spine, watching Mor ride.  Something about his aura frightened her terribly.  A dangerous man, moreso than any of the others.  She was tempted to kill him now, without even trying to persuade him to turn back.  But she had vowed she would always give them a chance.

So she focused herself, and appeared as an astral image, as solid as flesh but less real, standing in front of his horse's path.  The horse didn't even slow down.  It kept trotting on as if it would run her down, and Mor made no attempt to stop it.

Hastily she stepped back from its path.  If it went through her, it would do her no harm-- but it would reveal her as an illusion. "Will you stop, Mor, and listen to what I have to say?"  she said.

"There is nothing I need to hear from old women,"  he said.

Well.  That settled it, then.  She had given him a chance, and he had spit in her face.  

Amaldis came back to herself, letting her astral image vanish.  She looked deep into the crystal, focused, and spoke a Word.  It resonated in the air around her.  The resonation through the crystal was even greater.  There, the Word whipped the trees and caused the ground to shake.

Mor's mount stood firm, holding in one place as Mor stroked its head.  When the chasm started to open, the horse bolted as fast as it could go in the opposite direction, which happened to be the direction of the city. The chasm stopped widening before it could catch up to the fleeing beast, the power of the Word spent, and Mor and his animal made all possible speed for the city.

Amaldis threw another chasm in their way.  They leapt it, outran its expansion, and kept going.  She summoned demonic familiars and hobgoblins to waylay them.  Mor slew them all.  She cast illusions, which Mor paid little to no attention to; she summoned elementals, which Mor defeated; and she threw murderous obstacles in his path, which he destroyed, overcame, or bypassed.  Amaldis had never seen anything like it.  The man was at the outskirts of the city already, and still moving.  Nothing magical had done more than slow him, and she was exhausted from rapid spellcasting.

Grieving in her heart, she called for a messenger, and told him to tell the militia about the threat. Good men and women would die at Mor's hands, she knew, and if it were merely her own life at stake, she would gladly die in their place.  But she was founder, governor and defender of Cythia.  Without her, morale would be destroyed, the government would become unstable, and Cythia would be wide open and vulnerable to whatever conqueror wanted to take it.  

In her crystal, she watched as the militia went forth.  Then she began preparing for the possibility that Mor would reach her.  She set up some powerful and terrible binding spells, summoned a few invincible creatures from the lower planes, and set them to guard her door.  Then she sent a messenger to Joraine.

"Tell her I want her to go to the belltower and prepare a Spell of Unbinding of Truths," she told the messenger. "When it's complete, I'll examine it."  This particular spell took several hours to complete, and required its caster's full attention.  Joraine had been telling the truth, 3 days ago-- she would even sacrifice her own life to preserve Amaldis'.  Which would leave Cythia without a sorceress, if both of them were killed.  Joraine had to be tricked into leaving the battlefield before the fight began.

That done, Amaldis turned to watch the battle in her crystal.

The militia were getting decimated.  Amaldis sucked in her breath.  How was this possible? Few of them were very good swordsmen, and Mor was the best of the best, yes.  But still. It was impossible that one man could be doing such damage, and taking so little in return.  One man, and not a magic-user at that.  It wasn't even an enchanted blade he held-- Mor's contempt for magic was legendary.  Without assistance from magic, it was just not conceivable that one man, no matter how skilled, could cut his way through an army, no matter how green.  And yet Mor was doing it.

He had to be getting some sort of secret assistance. Amaldis focused in, looking for an invisible familiar, an enchanted item, something.  There was nothing so obvious.  If he had magical assistance, it was subtle and ran very deep.  Sick at heart, Amaldis forced herself to watch the slaughter of her people.  Here is your noble glory, all you young heroes. Here is what you wanted!

When she felt strong enough, she struck again, after sending a messenger ordering the decimated remains of the militia to retreat.  It looked as if Mor would pursue them, and continue the combat until they were all dead, but he changed his mind when she called a thunderstorm down on him, as if remembering that she was his real opponent.

She rained lightning at him, but somehow, impossibly, he always managed to avoid them, fortuitiously moving at the same split-second she initiated the bolt. ��As he headed deeper and deeper into the city, people fled, knowing from the stormcloud that their governor was trying to stop the man, and failing.  Amaldis sent all sorts of creatures at him.  He killed them all, and kept coming.  Even when one of her creatures managed to kill his horse, he leapt off the beast and kept coming.

If he were not in her city, she could swallow him with a chasm now, or put a ring of fire around him-- without his horse, he was more vulnerable.  But this was her place, and she couldn't cause such damage to it. She notified the palace guard that he was coming, hoping desperately that he would be tired from the constant fighting, and easier to take down.  She had given the guard strict instructions that if casualties were too heavy, they were to flee.  But she didn't truly believe they would obey.  

The palace guard met and fought Mor.  He was still impossibly skilled-- his battles seemed to have barely blunted his edge. Again, Amaldis scanned him for magic, and this time she did catch a faint whiff.  Quickly she focused her probe, sweeping him up and down, but at this range it still eluded her.  When he got closer, perhaps she would be able to find it, and negate it; but of course, when he got closer she would have other things to worry about.

She began to scream into the crystal, ordering the guard to retreat, as Mor destroyed them.  She appeared to them astrally, pleading with them to run and save themselves, but they ignored her.  Mor was only a swordsman-- they should be able to take him down.  The fact that they obviously couldn't meant nothing, when it was honor at stake.  Tears burned in her eyes.  How many more good people would die for honor's damnable sake?

Now nearly all her guard were dead.  Amaldis steeled herself.  He was coming this way.  One way or another, even if he kills me, he won't live to enjoy his victory.

Then the door slammed open, and slammed shut behind as Mor strode into Amaldis's chamber.

"Time for you to die, witch,"  he said, advancing on her.

Amaldis released the demon guard.  Invincible and tireless, the two launched themselves at him, battering him.  The air rang with the clash of his sword on their metallic armor.  While he was occupied with that, Amaldis searched him magically-- and finally found what she was looking for.  There was a magical luck charm on him, cast before his birth, woven throughout his entire being.  He had never failed at anything.  And there was no way to remove the charm, not without negating her own power.

At this point, Mor defeated the invincible demons by thrusting his sword's point into their mouths. That shouldn't have killed them. But by now, Amaldis knew that the universe was on Mor's side.  If an improbable occurrence was necessary for his survival, it would happen.  If an impossible occurrence, even, was necessary, it would happen.

How could she defeat someone like that?

She spoke a Word, to activate a binding spell.  He hated magic so much-- if she could make him see that he was using magic, perhaps he could renounce the spell, or perhaps he would leave her alone.  It was not very likely, but the only other alternative was to negate all magic, and that would destroy her power, too.  The spell caught Mor tight, holding him motionless. He struggled against the spell, as Amaldis spoke coldly.  "You have such contempt for magic.  But you yourself are a magic-user, Mor of Savann."

"You lie, witch," he grated out.

"No lie.  How do you think it's possible that one lone man can kill over 50? That you miraculously survived everything I attacked you with? It's impossible.  No one else has gotten even as far as the city, much less the palace, except for you--"

She sensed the bonds shattering before it happened.  Somehow, he had broken her binding spell by flexing his muscles.  That's not possible! Amaldis thought, and then remembered that Mor's luck charm could do the impossible.  She leapt out of the way as he grasped his sword and swung it at her.

Amaldis cried a Word of power, and a bolt of light flashed out from her fingertips-- but he dodged. The laws of reality seemed to be breaking down to accomodate him.  She threw up a magical shield, and his broadsword cut it in half.  That wasn't possible, either.

Amend the rule, she thought, gasping, as she dodged another broadsword swing at her head.  The magician will always win, provided the sword-wielding barbarian doesn't have magic of his own.  It was getting harder to dodge, and there were fewer places to dodge to.  Amaldis truly understood then that no magic could stop him.  Even a sudden death spell would unravel against the luck charm placed on him. There was only one thing that could possibly work, and the notion filled her with horror.

There was a secret spell, jealously guarded by the few magicians who knew it.  It was a last-resort weapon in magical combat, intended to take one's enemy down with one.  The secret spell consisted of a single spoken Word, which could negate all magic within a certain radius.  Mor was certainly within that radius.  Unfortunately, by definition, so was the caster-- which was why it was a weapon of last resort.  Amaldis had built up a great deal of power in 200 years.  If she negated Mor's advantage, she lost all of that power, which might end up dooming Cythia as surely as if she died.  And without her magic, she would be no match for him in combat anyway.

The sword smashed her crystal, scattering pieces everywhere, as she ducked behind it.  Then there was a wall at her back, and nowhere to dodge to. Terror gripped her-- this was it. Only one chance-- and even that was more likely to see her avenged than saved.  But it would be enough to be avenged, if that was all she could have.

She said the Word.

The magic drained out of the air.  Amaldis sagged against the wall, feeling suddenly a thousand years old.  For the first time, she could hear the pounding on the door, and realized it had been going on for some time.  

Mor hesitated.  He had sensed the change, apparently, though doubtless he couldn't understand what it signified.  In that moment of hesitation, Amaldis flung herself to the side, and so when the broadsword came down it pierced through her shoulder, slicing away her arm, not her head.  Amaldis screamed.

The door slammed open behind Mor, and there was a flash of light.  Mor dropped, an expression of disbelief on his face.  With rapidly glazing eyes, Amaldis saw through the pain that Joraine was running toward her.  Then it became too dark to see anymore.

***

Amaldis wakened to the sound of Joraine weeping.  "It can't be too late,"  Joraine was saying.  "Come on, heal, Amaldis, heal! Please!"

Amaldis swallowed, and croaked in a hoarse voice, "I seem not to be dead.  How surprising."

"You're back!" Joraine wiped her eyes and looked at Amaldis.  "I brought you back! Oh thank you, Goddess, thank you, thank you..." She hugged Amaldis and began to weep again, this time for joy.

But as memory filtered back, Amaldis could see little cause to be joyful.  She was alive, yes, and Mor was dead...  but the cost had been her power.  The only defense Cythia had had to keep it from a bloody war, and being overrun and conquered, had been her power.  And now it was gone.

Tears welled in her eyes. After all her hard work, all the energy and enthusiasm her people had expended to make her dream a reality, one man with a magic charm could bring it all crashing down.  What was the point to living, if her dream was dead? In a voice like ash, she said, "Joraine, my powers..."

Joraine lifted her head and looked down at her.  "I know. I know."

"Cythia is finished."  There was no strength, no life in her voice, just ruins and despair.

"No-- there's a way. There has to be a way."

"That's wishful thinking.  " Amaldis changed the subject. "How did you find me? I told you to prepare a Spell of Unbinding..."

"The guard-- what was left of it-- broke in and told me you were fighting with that creature." Joraine's voice had an edge of fury to it.  "I couldn't get the door open, at first--"

"His luck charm. It must have kept the door locked."

"When I got it open and saw he'd cut off your arm-- I almost went berserk.  But it's all right now.  I healed you.  Your arm's fine."

"My arm's irrelevant, Joraine.  My magic is gone.  Without that..."

"No! We can buy time. We can keep going on a bluff for a while.  I won't let your dream die like this!"

"Buy time for what?"  Amaldis wanted to be swept away by Joraine's youthful determination, but 200 years of experience had told her that when something was doomed, it was doomed. There was nothing they could do. "It'll be another hundred years before you're powerful enough to defend Cythia by yourself..."

"Then we can't rely so much on magic.  We need to find other solutions."  Joraine got up off the bed.  "We can buy time, like I said.  And in that time, we can recruit more people.  We can train all our citizens to fight and defend the country if they have to. We can try to recruit another magician. If we could get two or three magicians my age, we could all band together.  Besides.  Once people hear you killed Mor, they won't be eager to try you for some time.  No one needs to know you're injured-- and as long as they send in their heroes one at a time, we can pick them off ourselves, the militia and I.  We can send emissaries to other countries, and see if they have superior weapons or magical techniques we can use.  There are all sorts of things we can try, Amaldis.  You can't give up!"

"I'm old," Amaldis said softly.  "I had a dream once, a revolutionary new idea, when I was young.  But I'm no revolutionary anymore."

"You can't give up--"

"No.  I'm not giving up.  I'm passing the torch to you."  Amaldis forced herself to a sitting position.  The change made her dizzy and she swayed.  Joraine quickly moved to prop pillows behind her. "You're right, of course. I'll continue to govern Cythia and to teach you magic-- I still know the techniques, I simply haven't got the power for them anymore.  But you'll be in charge of devising our defense, Joraine.  You're young and creative enough to see new ways of doing things.  I can't anymore."

"I don't think you're as old and decrepit as you think you are, Amaldis,"  Joraine said.  "Is this because you lost your magic?"

"Yesterday, for all my years, I was a young woman.  Today I feel older than time itself.  It has to be you, Joraine.  I-- lost something vital when I lost my power, I think.  Cythia's future is going to rest on you."

"You should rest," Joraine said, moving the pillows back so Amaldis could lay down.  "Go to sleep.  You'll feel better when you're recovered."

"I doubt it," Amaldis said softly, but allowed Joraine to put her to bed.  The last thing she saw, through slitted eyes near the edge of sleep, was Joraine sitting by her bed.  Her face seemed to Amaldis to look like her own had, when she was only thirty and had grandiose dreams for saving the world.  Yes.  The torch was in capable hands.  

Amaldis slept.

[undertheinfluencerd]

https://ift.tt/3l39LwX #

Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man trilogy redefined the superhero genre and the summer blockbuster. The three films provided audiences with a sense of escapism unlike anything they had seen before, thanks to its heart-pounding action scenes and collection of beloved characters.

RELATED: Spider-Man Villains Ranked Least-Most Likely To Win The Hunger Games

Peter Parker, his friends, and his foes all got many chances to show off their abilities on the big screen. Indeed, the trilogy’s characters star in some of cinema’s most unforgettable moments. From upside-down kisses in the rain to heartfelt monologues about the responsibilities of a hero, Sam Raimi’s trilogy has plenty of scenes that rank as some of the most memorable in cinematic history.

10 Eddie Becomes Venom

To say that Topher Grace’s depiction of Venom is unpopular would be an understatement. In fact, most fans agree he was one of the things Spider-Man 3 got wrong. That doesn’t mean his character didn’t have some thrilling moments on-screen, though.

Eddie’s most memorable scene in the movie is his transformation into Venom. As Peter gets rid of the symbiote while in a belltower, the alien falls and lands on Eddie, quickly overtaking him. A killer soundtrack and fittingly gloomy atmosphere accompany the transformation. And even if Eddie ended up being an underwhelming villain, his conversion into Venom is definitely memorable.

9 Flint’s Confession

Every fan knows that Spider-Man 3 has way too many villains. None have enough room to shine or prove themselves as worthy heirs to Goblin and Ock’s legacies, but they still get some redeeming moments. In Sandman’s case, it’s his final monologue to Peter, where he confesses his guilt about the part he played in Uncle Ben’s death.

Enhanced by Thomas Haden Church’s performance, the scene succeeds in providing some much-needed closure for Peter. Sandman is less a villain and more a tragic figure of circumstance, and his confession to Peter confirms it.

8 Goblin’s First Flight

Willem Dafoe redefined what it means to be a comic book villain. His take on the Green Goblin is the perfect mix of over-the-top and seriousness, adding a sense of gravitas that overcomes the more cartoonish aspects of the role.

The character has plenty of memorable moments in the first Spider-Man movie. However, his initial confrontation against Spider-Man during the World Unity Fair will go down in cinematic history as one of the best action scenes of all time. It is fast-paced and thrilling, wasting not a single moment of its four-minute length. The Goblin gives an impressive display of his powers, proving that he will always be Spider-Man’s best villain.

7 Otto Octavius’s Sacrifice

Sam Raimi’s first two Spider-Man films succeeded because of how much they fleshed out the villains. They weren’t just CGI creations trying to take over the world, but three-dimensional characters with ambitions and limitations of their own. Spider-Man 2‘s Otto Octavius is one of the genre’s most compelling villains, one who succeeds in winning the audience’s sympathy while remaining a fearsome threat.

RELATED: 10 Things Only Comic Book Fans Know About Doctor Octopus

During Ock’s final moments, he sees the error of his ways and decides to go down with his creation. Proclaiming he will “not die a monster,” Octavius sacrifices for the greater good. Thanks to Alfred Molina’s committed performance, the moment is one of the trilogy’s most memorable, cementing Octavius as one of the genre’s most complex characters.

6 J. Jonah Jameson Saves Peter Parker

J.K. Simmons as J. Jonah Jameson is the very definition of spot-on casting. The actor took an already well-known character and translated him into the screen seamlessly and faithfully. Throughout his tenure in the trilogy, he gets plenty of comical moments, but his most memorable is his protection of Peter Parker.

When the Green Goblin blasts into the Bugle’s offices, he threatens Jameson and asks for the name of the photographer who takes Spider-Man’s pictures. Jameson refuses to tell on Peter, telling the Goblin the reporter sends his stuff through the mail. The scene shows a new and unexpected side to JJ, a glance at the empathy he works so hard to hide.

5 Uncle Ben’s Lesson

Uncle Ben’s death is one of the defining moments in Peter Parker’s storyline. It’s the first of many (many) tragedies to happen to the character, inspiring him to become a hero in the first place. Sam Raimi provides enough room for Uncle Ben’s character to develop before arriving at the inevitable conclusion.

Cliff Robertson’s heartfelt monologue summarises the essence of Spider-Man. “With great power comes great responsibility” has become one of the most enduring phrases in pop culture, adding a more profound layer to Raimi’s trilogy. And while Uncle Ben has little screentime, his presence remains throughout the entire trilogy, thanks in large part to his now-immortal words.

4 Aunt May’s Advice

Rosemary Harris remains the most compelling and memorable cinematic Aunt May. She imbued the role with plenty of warmth and empathy, avoiding the one-dimensional approach of subsequent movies. Harris’ Aunt May wasn’t just another peripheral character; on the contrary, she was Peter’s anchor, a constant source of inspiration for both the boy and the hero.

Her role as Peter’s guide is blatantly clear during her monologue in Spider-Man 2. While she packs her things to move out from her house, she talks to Peter about the nature and importance of heroism. Her speech is the gentle push Peter needed to understand the true role of his superhero counterpart. It’s a sweet but unforgettable moment that confirms Aunt May’s importance in the friendly neighborhood Spidey’s life.

3 Goblin’s Last Flight

Throughout the Raimi trilogy, Harry Osborn suffers almost as many ups and downs as Peter himself. The loss of his father leaves him devastated and desperate to find someone to blame, leading to his descent into the Green Goblin persona. Alas, Harry was never his father, and he proves it at the last moment.

RELATED: 10 Most Powerful Variants Of Green Goblin In Marvel Comics

Sporting the Goblin costume, Harry goes to help Peter fight Venom and the Sandman. The two confirm their friendship, and Harry bravely dies fighting the enemies. Harry’s sacrifice continues the recurring theme in the trilogy that every victory comes with a steep price. It’s also a perfect send-off for the character and a way to restore the Osborn legacy.

2 Mary Jane’s Upside-Down Kiss

For all its strengths, the Raimi trilogy has one undeniable flaw, and that’s its treatment of Mary Jane Watson, Peter Parker’s main love interest in the comics and most movies. The character barely received any development beyond her damsel in distress role. Still, Mary Jane is a crucial figure in superhero movies; she defined the “superhero girlfriend” role for better and worse.

Out of all her moments in the trilogy, Mary Jane’s most memorable is her upside-down kiss in the rain with Spider-Man. It’s not only one of the most iconic scenes in modern cinema, but a perfect summary of MJ and Peter’s relationship. The setup may seem a tad outdated under a 2021 eye, but Kirsten Dunst and Tobey Maguire’s chemistry is so electric that fans can let go of the more dubious elements of the scene and enjoy the romantic aspect.

1 Spider-Man Stops A Train

Tobey Maguire’s Spider-Man remains as beloved now as he was back then. His take on Peter Parker gained new life thanks to the internet; indeed, Maguire’s Spidey is the king of memes, from Bully Maguire to the now-iconic “I missed the part where that’s my problem.”

However, this Spider-Man remains a blueprint for cinematic superheroes, thanks to his many heroic moments on screen. None is more memorable or inspiring than his efforts to stop a speeding train in Spider-Man 2. The scene works not only as an action setpiece but as a demonstration of Peter’s strongest power: his perseverance. Peter will never stop trying, even if all the odds are against him. Spider-Man is so relatable because he makes multiple mistakes and spends his time trying to fix them. But the point is, he will always try, and the train scene is the perfect representation of Spider-Man’s essence.

NEXT: 10 Unpopular Opinions About The Sam Raimi Spider-Man Movies (According To Reddit)

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The post Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man Trilogy: Each Main Character’s Most Iconic Scene appeared first on undertheinfluencerd.net.

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[bookgeekgrrl]

Sunday reading recap (11-Apr-21)

THINGS I WATCHED

All Creatures Great and Small - S1, ep 7

We Could Be Heroes - basically i wanted to see this entry in the Pedro Pascal Hot Dad Universe - it was cute and everyone seemed to be having a blast

Space Sweepers - this was as fantastic as I’d heard - *stefon voice* this movie had everything: space battles, found family, humor, drama, scenery-chewing villain, adorable moppet, sarcastic trans robot

The Yarmouth Castle Disaster | Fascinating Horror - as a Gordon Lightfoot fan, I had heard of the Yarmouth Castle but assumed it was much further back in time. (honestly, same with Edmund Fitzgerald! I assumed all his ship tragedy songs were from events in like the early 20th C at the latest, not 1965 and 1975!)

To All The Boys: P.S. I Still Love You

Avatar: The Last Airbender - S3, ep 2-17 - i’m so close to the finish! was very excited to see the ‘that’s rough, buddy’ moment! 

THINGS I READ

💜 Murder in the Belltower (Miss Underhay Mysteries #5) (Helena Dixon) - and now I have to wait until JUNE for the next one!

💜  a flame in two cupped hands (notcaycepollard) - 91K, Natasha-centric, post EG fixit series, : when i die i’ll sacrifice (more than enough for the afterlife) [41K]; the edge of a life (in the present tense) [14K]; you made it this far (just a little bit more) [35K] - possibly one of my favorite post-EG fix-its, centered on Natasha - just a fantastic fic

💜   An Unseen Attraction (Sins of the Cities #1) (K.J. Charles, author; Matthew Lloyd Davies, narrator) - decided it was time for a reread!

💜   An Unnatural Vice (Sins of the Cities #2) (K.J. Charles, author; Matthew Lloyd Davies, narrator)

💜   An Unsuitable Heir (Sins of the Cities #3) (K.J. Charles, author; Matthew Lloyd Davies, narrator)

💜   Interlude: Snow & Winter Collection Volume One (Snow & Winter) (C.S. Poe) - a collection of short stories about my favorite grumpy antiques dealer & his big beef boyfriend.

The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde (Robert Louis Stevenson, author; Richard Armitage, narrator) - i read this mainly because i just really wanted to hear RA’s voice in my ears and he was stellar. 

plus 226K of shorter fic so shorter work shout out

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Want and Need (story by justanotherStonyfan, art by elkleggs) - 1K - excellent short PwP with some fantastic art - i can’t get enough of smol dom steve

9 Lives (Speranza) - 8K - we are blessed by a new installment in the 4 Minute Window universe - the danger with a new installment is that it reminds me of just how fucking good this series is, and really, really makes me want to go back and reread the ENTIRE thing 

Taste Life Twice (victoria_p (musesfool)) - 8K, batfam - “Jason's learned a lot of things from a lot of people, but Alfred's the one who teaches him to cook.” - so, so good. it will make you crave grilled cheese and lemon cake but there are links to every recipe which is going above and beyond really

Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (and Other Lies He Tells Himself) (betts) - 14K - this is one of my 5-star, all time fave fics with recovering vet Bucky and single dad baker Steve - one of the tags is Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts and that’s the truest statement.