#but she lends her strength to help them build new homes and is most often seen giving the village children piggy back rides (pun intended)

[the-redacted-workshop]

@flockrest

Hi Ray! Uhh it’s your resident lurker, the one who wrote that long-ass ask about Link and Tulin being so similar? Y’know how I said the colors post was giving me some brainrot? Yeah, uh.. this is in part inspired by that. I hope you enjoy? A!! (And seriously, no pressure to respond!! + if you'd like me to remove this for whatever reason, then please let me know!!)

(Also a warning, this is long as shit, like. Almost 2000 words according to google docs, so it is MOST CERTAINLY under a read more! There are TOTK endgame spoilers so. Watch out, reader, if for whatever reason you haven't gotten that far!)

Ganondorf could not kill them. Nor could he kill their spirits, their drive, their care for eachother.

But what he did do to to them sure as hell killed Link’s creativity, for a couple months.

Even now that Sonia and Rauru had returned his arm to him, unscarred and without its old aches and pains, Link found it harder than ever to create with that hand. Maybe the aforementioned is all the reason he needs- it feels nothing like how it should feel. It doesn’t feel like his anymore.

It was one thing when his pains were tangible, physical- he could do something about them, or take something for them. But the phantom pains, both from his scars of days past and his time with the ‘gift’ of Rauru’s arm? There’s so little to be done about them.

But eventually, Link does what he has always done: fight through his discomfort and pain to achieve his goals. Now, that doesn’t mean it isn’t slow going, but he doesn’t bother to note it as often as he used to, these days. Time passing, ‘wasted’, is no problem, now that the threats to his home and friends are gone once more.

He has a new project he’s working on. Gifts, one for all of his friends- Zelda, the sages, so many people that have helped them all along the way. Yona especially, a marriage gift for her for when the time comes.

He makes Zelda’s first. A scarf, themed after her dragon form and lined with beads made of the shards that would break off the spikes of her spine. She has mixed feelings when he first presents it, but the way the beads help her relax turns the tide, and Link doesn't miss how she takes very cooler day as an opportunity to wear it.

Yunobo’s has to wait until Link has all his strength back- it requires stone-carving and metal-working, and he can’t do that comfortably yet- not from a pain standpoint, more inexperience. Same for Sidon and Yona’s gifts, but theirs will come first.

Riju gets a new plush for her collection, fashioned after her favorite sandseal. It wears a plush version of the Lightning Helm crooked on its head, and Link very kindly does not comment when Riju starts getting teary in his home, after a dinner with him and Zelda. The two of them have always been rather sentimental people, at heart, and he will allow her to keep the facade of being anything else if she so wishes.

Then comes Tulin. Tulin, for as long as Link can remember, has been an adventurer at heart. He has all he needs at his home village, all he could ever ask, and the wilds give him all he could ever want, but comfort in the latter isn’t easy to come by sometimes. So Link's idea is something.. seemingly simple, but not so much to make.

Link takes months to make it, longer than any of the other gifts. He has to mine and buy rubies, both of which take time and energy. He has to carefully dye all the thread and fabric he needs, but Sayge is kind enough to lend their services- as well as their keen eye for color. Riju takes the rubies to Gerudo Town so they can be prepared by a proper expert on them, the best anyone could ever know. Link loves the jewels that come from Isha, he knew when he got the finished product returned that he made the right investment.

And eventually, a rhythm builds. Piece by piece, color by color, the gift comes together. And it’s ready by the time Link goes to Rito Village next to join Tulin on a journey.

The day goes as it always does, when Link visits. Tulin still wears the Secret Stone around his ankle, and the colors of the band holding it are still as vivid and clear as they were the day he received it. He even wears a similar, braided band Link made to ‘counterbalance’ on the opposing ankle.

Green, Red, Yellow. May the Windlines carry you far, and come home to me alive. You won’t fight alone.

Link had made it, admittedly clumsily, when Tulin first became a Sage. Link promised to make a nicer one, when he could, but Tulin had refused. He was attached to the gift, it seemed. For the best- Link never found the time to make a better one, as much as he hated that fact.

Link finds Tulin in the Village, assuring and reassuring too many times over that he would be fine. He’d be back in a few weeks with Link, and it wasn’t like they were going to go fight Gleeoks or anything- though Link was sure Tulin would beg to do so.

Maybe they would, but Link would be the one to determine that.

They spend about an hour at the nearest Skyview tower after, Tulin watching the Purah Pad over Link's shoulder as the Hylian points out all the destinations he wants to hit with Tulin- major hotspots for big monsters (no Gleeoks yet, to Tulin’s disappointment), historic landmarks and cool scenery he thinks Tulin would like. There’s no shortage to what he wants to show the young Rito, and there is no shortage to what Tulin wants to see.

So they head to the Leviathan Skeleton there in Hebra, first. Then through the snowfields, carefully avoiding the Gleeok there, to Mount Drena. Tulin meets the Great Fairy (after Link has a long, long talk with Mija about appropriate behavior with Tulin, which she respects) and gets some of his gear upgraded.

Then they go farther east. They check out Thyphlo Ruins, and that’s where they stop for the night, next to the Skyview tower. They set up camp, with Tulin helping clear out and scatter any monster bones they find so that no Stal-monsters pop up first, and then they start to settle the camp itself.

Tulin usually brings a hammock to sleep in, when they go on trips, and when Link returns from checking for any wandering monsters, Tulin is setting up the poles for that. Link takes a deep breath, hand resting on the Purah Pad as he walks over.

Once he’s gotten the boy’s attention with a couple of short, chirp-like whistles, his hands rise to talk. “So, before you set that up any further, I wanna show you something.” He signs slower than he normally would, knowing Tulin can understand him but not always keep up.

“What’s that? I thought we saw all there was to see here.” Tulin perches on one of the poles he has set up, a perfect T-shape for doing so. “Is it something you brought?” His head tilts, eyes shining with a youthful curiosity that Link has to adore. The boy still has that, Link kinda hopes he always will.

“Yes, I actually made something. It’s a gift for you. I’m sorry it took me so long to make it for you, I wasn’t sure what to make until a couple months ago."

Tulin perks up, hopping off the perch and landing right in front of Link, making the older step back a little. “Really? It better not be a new band, I told you I didn’t want a new one!"

“No no no,” Link signs rapidly, “It’s way cooler than the band. Step back and cover your eyes, I want you to be surprised.” When Tulin doesn’t do as Link asks, Link repeats the instructions twice before Tulin finally groans and walks away, wings over his head.

Link quickly lays out his gift next to Tulin’s setup, making sure it’s not too close to the fire and smoothing it out as best as he can.

When it’s ready, Link whistles again for Tulin’s attention, and he is flying over in an instant. He lands next to the laid out gift, and he seems confused for a few moments before he starts bouncing and flapping around, excited enough to start chirping.

It’s a new hammock, made in the same standard adult size that Tulin usually uses for long trips. Technically it’s far too big for Tulin now, not that the other one wasn't, but it should last long enough for Tulin to grow into. It’s all quilted and embroidered, a feat that took him almost every second of the months he spent on it.

It's all made of the same durable material that Link’s paraglider is made of, made to last and endure the elements- all the elements, even Death Mountain in Link’s experience.

The quilted part itself is an image. Tulin from the front, head bowed, hands cupped to hold his Secret Stone. The symbol on the Secret Stone is embroidered in white and blue, and the symbol is repeated on the backing as well. Green and blue swirls behind the young Rito’s image, like the shrines that have long since dissolved from Hyrule.

The border of the quilt is a rhythm of colors.

Yellow - You’re part of my family, and I am part of yours, as long as you will have me.

Orange - I aspire to keep up with your skill, your stories will be told with awe as you grow.

Dark Green - The Windlines favor you, as your family does, as I do. May they carry you far.

White - These Colors don’t define you though. Don’t be tied down by them, make your own. I know you can. I know you will.

Red - Above all, brother, come home to us, and come home safe.

Every Red patch bears a ruby, and every Yellow patch a piece of the Light Dragon’s spikes, all rounded like beads, all held there by thin but sturdy wiring sewn under the patch, and Link knows the magic in them will keep Tulin warm in any blizzard, any horrid winter. Link won't let him be stuck in a mess like that unprepared, not again.

Tulin looks like he might cry. Link isn’t sure if all he wants to convey to the boy gets across quite right, but Tulin seems to understand the gist of it, judging by how he outright tackles Link after a little bit of Tulin's excited hopping.

He starts rambling, and Link stumbles around a bit as he wraps his arms around the Rito who’s clinging to his torso like he’s a tree in a storm. Link can make out a vast appreciation of the gift, he hears an I love it somewhere in there, and if Link wasn't already grinning (he was), he wouldve then.

Eventually, Tulin untangles from the Hylian, and they set up the hammock together. Tulin is far too careful as he hops in, and Link laughs, signing that “you don’t need to be so careful Tulin, just don't purposefully rip it with your talons and it’ll be fine!”

And that night, Tulin sleeps soundly, deeper in his dreams than a Frok in the Depths. And Link finds himself proud. He thinks he made the right choice, as he himself drifts to sleep. He will not have such a peaceful sleep, he rarely does, but it is made slightly more gentle by the knowledge that Tulin will.

[sealshark84]

The Way To Contact Most Loved Relatives During Your Family Tree

funeral programs Writing your own obituary sounds and feels a little strange, I understand. If the idea doesn't appeal to you, try pretending you simply have just won an award as well as the newspaper is performing a feature story on your accomplishments. By recording a person need wish to be remembered or acknowledged for, you can plan to pinpoint the values you require to live by. And, by identifying your life's values may never be more able to reside them now and later on.

Flowers are commonly sent towards funeral home and church when the service take place. These flowers is actually on display at the viewing and funeral or both. The affected family will then have a chance to bring them home wedding and reception service. The other place to deliver flowers may be the home residence of the family. Most people prefer don't wish to if they weren't familiar with all the deceased.

But perhaps that's not the way you desire to go. Perhaps you need to be able to honest - and plain: "Most individuals know that Dad i didn't spend much time together in the last decade. It's because we didn't see eye to eye on much, and after a short time we determined we loved each other better by a distance." Really likely that there are individuals that will repeat. You don't need to brutal; you'll feel better about it later for anybody who is not - and the reality is often painful enough even when it's wielded put the cap.

Give the gift of listening. Providers since they act like mourners have a contageious disease and they avoid contact with them. Mourners need to inform their stories and reminisce about their nearest and dearest. Heather Lende, an obituary writer for that "Chilkat Valley News" in Haines, Alaska, knows this. In her moving book, "If You Lived Here, I's Know Your Name," she writes about listening for a research technique. The best way that I am aware of to overpower the failure of a legitimate income opportunity (and the deep feelings of personal failure built along with it) is do an autopsy among the business to help find out exactly what went opposite. Only by discovering our weakness can we build on our strengths (Yogi Berra eat your heart out). Consider your goals your heart's desire, whereas a resolution is, well, resolving. Genuine definition of a goal is; the end toward which effort is directed. Resolving is; to cut back by analysis the problem into simple elements. Perhaps this what happened to Medical professional. Kolff and his wife. Perhaps this exactly what happened regarding Gore's life. Perhaps this can be a version with the happens whenever one considers ending any relationship.

If you currently know which funeral home you ought to work with, then everything you need to do is call them and make an doctor office visit. They will be happy to help you with whatever of planning your funeral. Once you have made all of the arrangements, then all you must is let your family know you've got taken proper care of your own funeral. You may additionally convince your crooks to do now you should. None of us know when we will need to have a funeral, but we do all be assured that we will definitely die maybe. This may seem a little eerie nevertheless it's important. Is actually very such a relief in your family to understand you wanted at a last celebration of life.

[prof-peach]

Are there ‘mons that help out the assistants, lighthouse keeper, groomer, etc, either that they already worked with or that lived on the island and got attached to? I’ve heard of the ampharos in Johto that powers a lighthouse, and I love seeing all the different ways Pokémon become involved in our lives

Oh damn well everyone helps around here, so I guess I can try to run over a few of them The Labs are a kind of hot-pot. Pari works the front desk, and handles regular healing. She has an Eevee that is very upbeat and curious, and a Happiny who has patience galore. Both help her run errands, greet patients, and comfort those who come in worried or nervous. The computers are home to Dutch, a porygon-Z who we've had since the place opened, he's quite stable, and aids us in finding patients files, mislabeled documents, and generally making sure emails and information is up to date. He's a great aid, we'd be in disarray without him for sure. Dutch also handled translations, so if a pokemon comes in and we need more information, he can jump into a phone and tell us what we need to know, straight from the pokemon's mouth. When it rains, pokemon like Chunk, a poliwhirl, or the stray Appletun who hangs about, will come in and do odd jobs. Theres a pretty friendly out Slakoth who gives advice when she's around, The hoppip are great guides if you get lost or need to be shown to a specific location.

The Gardeners have a whole host of helpers, their own pokemon of course, but Grey's two Blastoise do the vast majority of watering, their cannons fitted with sprinkler heads. Both of them are very friendly, you can pet them if they aren't too busy. If we have to dig, we try to do what we can ourselves, but various ground ad rock types really lend their strength, making work far easier. A kind Gigalith often runs the operation with out staff, helping organise the sheer quantity of smaller pokemon who wish to spend the day in the mud helping. Theres an army of grass types who spend the day collecting, planting and germinating seeds, some are capable of speeding up the growing process, so we can usually get our plants in tip top condition for festivals or events, especially over in the formal gardens where the vast number of our grounds keepers work, making sure the large expanse is pruned, watered, weeded and tended to throughout the year. The lighthouse is full of Joltic, one particulalry large one called Rhonda, who seems to hold a lot of love in the community, and a couple of very handy Vikavolts, these are some of the few electric pokemon we keep on the island, and when it storms, they vacate to underground cave systems to wait it out. When they're happy to do so, they aid with backup generators, emergency power when it goes out, and of course, powering the lighthouse itself when need be, though it is plumbed into the power grid, so they can take time off if they like. The biggest most in charge pokemon around the lighthouse area would be Lee, the variant bronzong we have here. He sounds his bell when tour boats come sailing in, so staff can gather and get ready with time to spare. When he knows he's not needed, he moseys over to the docks to hang around with visitors, a real social butterfly that one, great with new people, very energetic. Teddy runs the groomers, he's as sharp as his scissors, his partner Flaafy has to have the most up to date cuts, they're very good together, visitors really enjoy their energy. He boasts being able to work on even the most unruly clients, and he does so with suave and style. He often has help from a jolly natured Kadabra who took a shine to the grooming lifestyle, she's a real handy pal to have around, if you need an extra set of hands, and her keen mind means she knows what tools and bottles are needed for different clients. Pokemon come and go from this building all the time, but if business is slow, Teddy works on wild pokemon who come in looking for a new style. He appreciates the practice, and thanks to our unusually large roster of residents, he gets to try out a lot of techniques. We compensate him every month based on the amount of wild mons he works with. He also helps us on adoptions days, giving everyone looking for a home, a real makeover, so they have the best chance! The gift shop is mostly filled with trinkets, knickknacks, but all of it is either foraged or grown on the island, or hand crafted by the couple who live and work in the shop. June is the seamstress, adept with fabrics, weaves, jewelry making, anything plush, flamboyant, or textile based and chances are she's good with it. Her partner is a somewhat uppity Gardevoir, who keeps to herself, but is always seen in the shop, stocking shelves, handling goods, or running errands. She's very fussy about how things look, and so the shop floor is often left in her capable hands, things are always neat and tidy because of this, which leaves June to craft behind the counter while her pokemon handles customers. June lives with her girlfriend, Pastie, a potter. Her partner is a Heatmore, and together they throw clay in the back yard, and bake it to make incredibly beautiful pots, vases, cups, plates, you name it. Her pokemon makes the perfect companion, he stokes the fires and maintains a steady even temperature, and his keen nose makes him great at finding clay veins around the island, which we don't mind them digging out and using. Their crafts are excellent, we've commissioned many meter tall plant pots from her,

they decorate the docks, each one a slight play on the Bronzong form, our mascot pokemon, filled with seasonal flowers and shrubs. The pair also have a Delibird, who runs deliveries back to the mainland, they have a thrivign buisness, so they borrow some of our flying types too, depending on what is being shipped out. It it's a big heavy vase, we send a gentle Charizard over to handle the package with care. If June made some Furret draft excluders that need carrying, then perhaps one of our Noctowl or Peliper want to help. The roster chops and changes, but we only let competent pokemon partake, so no goods are dropped or damaged. The cafe is run by a young woman who hails from Alola, she's got a Torracat, who keeps her food and drinks hot if need be, A Komala who was sent to us, it took a liking to her so she adopted it, and now its her mascot, and a Floatzel, who often wears a sandwich board out front to direct hungry patrons over to her. He also helps with his trainers boat, keeping the hull clean and free of debris, making for an expert second mate when they go out on the waves, strong enough to hoist sails and handle tough jobs. The cafe often has delivery services available, if visitors want to climb the mountain, it can take a while, so you can buy your lunch and have it delivered to the top for when you get there, so its still fresh and delicious. This can be done by a number of pokemon, ranging from Cutifly, to Skarmory, and everything in between. The hostess is an open book, so a lot of species are drawn to her.

The cleaners are the lifeblood here, picking up trash, mopping up spills, and making sure visitors get the best experience while on our shores. Many of them appreciate the help of Grimer, who can handle any plumbing blockage, and any spill. Trubbish are a firm favorite here, they keep out plastics down to a minimum. But also Murkrow, clever enough to find rubbish and put it in the bins. Water pokemon sometimes even fish out cans and old discarded nets, and drag them ashore to be disposed of properly. Most pokemon here understand what needs to go in a bin, so no matter the size or type, pokemon always pick up litter if they spot it. It's great, because young kids see it and join in, making it a wonderful lesson learnt, that some folks may forget to teach them.

I could go on and on, we have a huge set of jobs and buildings, but for every human, theres several pokemon who may tag in and help out, these are just the obvious ones that keep the island ticking along. Don't even get me going about the greenhouses, and the pokemon who maintain those with staff. It's a big operation here.

[emsartwork]

i forgot to add: how do design ????!?!??????

So I’m not expert but this is how I think of character design! (also sry if you were asking about clothing/outfit design thats a little different)

under the cut because this is long im so sorry

So in my opinion there are three really important aspects for character design!

AESTHETIC: obviously everybody’s aesthetic is different, but this is more about what vibe the character has, what makes them THEM design wise. 

INTENTION: who is the character supposed to be? this can range from their personality, their back story, their occupation, or their role in the story, but the design need to fit that intention.

COHESION: does the design go well together? or do certain aspects clash too much? obviously you can have disjointed parts of a character design, and if those serve a purpose then thats fine, but if its so disjointed its distracting from the character as a whole you might need to tweak things. 

AESTHETIC: the contrasting part of the design (white flowers in dark hair, dark trim on dress, and dark shoes) provide interest to the eye. The mixing of round and sharp shapes also keeps the design from feeling “boring” even though its relatively simple. 

INTENTION: so what role would this little doodle character have? according to her design elements, shes cute and friendly with her round shapes (bouncy balls, babies, etc), but could have a sharp/fast/active or even dangerous edge to her with the triangles (arrows, knives etc). of course the design doesn’t limit her possible roles. She could be a bubbly younger sister who teases the older protagonist, or maybe she’s the villain hiding in plain sight. the shape this character design doesn’t really have is squares(think bricks and rocks), which communicates that she might not be really strong, steady, or reliable. 

COHESION: repeating the curves across her whole design builds cohesion, it communicates that “yes, these are all part of the same character”, it also allows the eye to “rest” on a familiar shape or line. 

NOW LETS LOOK AT SOME DESIGNS

(Boku no Hero Academia) so both of these characters are super heroes, but have vastly different design elements. so lets analyze them.

OCHAKO(the pink one) is all rounds, with a few pointed shapes in hair mostly, but a little on her costume as well. Her personality is cute, bubbly, and friendly which perfectly suits her soft and bouncy design. Howevre she also has a very slight edge to her, which is seen her determination and drive to improve herself over the course of the anime. 

KIRISHIMA(the red one) at first glance, seems to be super pointy!! shapes that are usually seen on villains or really dangerous characters, but while he IS sharp(literally sometimes) and sometimes aggressive, he is also made of squares, which perfectly suits his loyal “i gotchu bro” attitude towards most of the other characters in the anime.  

ISSUE AREAS: so the only problems i have with Ochako and Kirishima’s designs is that their costumes each have one area that clashes a little too much for my taste. With Ochako, the belt over the color blocking stripes down her crotch are......questionable taste wise. I think the design would be better if the pink chest ended above the belt in a shallow v. not only would this mirror the triangle aspects of her hair, it would fit the belt outline, and continue the trend her costume has of being “grounded” or “heavy”. Kirishima has those.... gears??? around his shoulders??? and while the gear teeth are technically squares, the gear shape itself is a circle, which is a shape that isn’t present anywhere else in his design. I think changing the gears to something similar to his boots or his mask/headgear would create a more cohesive design(also the gears just look hard to move in)

These two characters are presented as individuals so their costumes don’t have to match at all even though they are still seen as “connected” because of the art style for the face, hair, and body. 

In a group giving the outfits cohesive motifs is an easy way to present a strong team image! In Yuki Yuna is a Hero, the girls all have colored lines(usually princess seam placement), armor or fabric hip accents, covered arms, and similar flower shapes in their hair. The Aesthetic of each girl is strong in a monochrome signature color, but not over whelming as the black+white connects them even in color so they aren’t out of place. 

Speaking of color! if your characters are all similar looking (like same body for all of them) you can communicate their personality and aesthetic just with color! (only gonna talk about a few of the ponies) Pinkie Pie (the really pink one) is energetic and playful, so her color scheme is a variation of the primary colors(happy, child like), and have one of the more saturated colors(high energy, intense) of these characters in a large quantity. Apple Jack (the orange one) is a down to earth farm girl, and her color palette is accordingly, mostly earth tones, its also warm analogous colors, which makes her appear un-complicated and warm personality wise. the pop of red is a nice touch to add interest, but notice that its uses sparingly in her cutie mark and tail accessory. Rarity on the other hand is elegant and fussy, her high contrast scheme of white and dark blue/purples gives her more visual interest and is something that makes her appear more “complex” in addition to the gradient thats included in her hair. the colors are also all cool colors, bringing to mind cool glass or water which both have connotations of grace and beauty.

however all the characters here are unified by their colors being on the pastel side, which is also important for a cohesive cast.

another, short, note on color; making the color/line/shading of your figure different from the background can help them stand out, this is used ESPECIALLY in children’s media, but can be applied to any illustration or animation as needed.

Color can also help your characters “read” quickly on screen, the powerpuff girls are a prime example, of having a distinct color blocking and silhouette. even the color blobs at the top and my crappy hand silhouettes STILL read as the characters despite being broken down into abstract elements. I also really enjoy the thick outline in the powerpuff girls, it really makes the characters pop to the foreground even though they have pretty simple designs and are often in a colorful setting.

Also, for a lot of animation, silhouette is INCREDIBLY important for your characters, some designers sketch silhouettes and then design the particulars its so important to nail the shape. These examples from Coraline are some of my favorites (though Laika wins in my heart every time no matter what lmao) because the simple shapes are SO CLEAR and indicative of the character, you literally don’t need to have watched the movie to know these are each different characters with different personalities and roles. 

silhouette can also help tell the story. In Kubo and the two strings (another Laika film) the above three characters are sisters. One has chosen to leave her home in the heavens to live on earth, and the other two stay in their roles as “heavenly” warriors. This is even shown through their designs, the two sisters are weighted on top and their cloaks don’t even touch the ground, while the first woman has trailing, heavy sleeves, hair, and robes all grounding her and emphasizing her connection with the earth.

another example of shape/silhouette reflecting the story, In The Croods, the family of cavemen are for the most part very top heavy, with large torsos and arms, usually in a more hunched over position, while the newcomer, Guy, is bottom heavy with thin arms and stands more upright. In the plot, the family represents the old ways, the strength and rules that have helped them survive, they look like very stereotypical “cavemen”, while Guy resembles the modern man, and appropriately is associated with new ideas and forward thinking.

MORE SHAPES, in DC super hero girls each girl has a distinct personality emulated by her shape language. Zatana is dramatic curves and edges, Super girl is hard, straight edges against curves, giving her a solid muscular shape. Wonder Woman, though also strong, is taller and leaner, lending to a confident leader type. Green Lantern is slim, her lines all flow into each other giving her a go with the flow look. Bumble Bee is, of course, tiny, but her boots and gauntlets add weight and strength to her otherwise small frame. Batgirl is lanky and has a lot of pointed style lines, reminding the viewer of a skinny cat (ironic what with cat woman i know) or weasel which mirrors her preferred “sneaky” crime fighting style.  (also yes this was just an excuse for me to gush abt how much i love the dcshg designs shut up)

so in my opinion, Cartoon Saloon’s The Secret of Kells is PERFECT in aesthetic, intention, and cohesion. Kells focuses very strongly on creating silhouette WITHIN the larger figure shape via color and line, most of the characters pictured here have no neck, the one who does, Brendan, is the main character and the use of negative space that cuts into his shape is used to draw attention to him. Kells is also very strongly inspired by Medieval Illuminated manuscripts (namely, the book of kells lmao). The characters still manage to stand out against outrageously detailed backgrounds via their simple shapes and strong color blocking. 

Aisling, a secondary but very important character, is not human, and has a totally different shape language from the rest of the characters. She is thin and pointy, while most of the others are round or square. Aisling also has the most negative space making up her silhouette, compare the triangles made by her arms and legs in the above picture to the figures in the first image where everybody’s body is self contained with no negative space. She is also very different color wise, very pale and cool colored, as opposed to the warm saturated colors of the human characters. (yes this was another excuse to gush abt one of my fave pieces of media deal with it)

hopefully that wasn’t too rambley and actually helps? if yall have more specific design questions lemma know lol

[satoshi-mochida]

Rabbit & Bear Studios, a Tokyo-based studio formed by key creators of the Suikoden series, has announced Eiyuden Chronicle: Hundred Heroes, an ambitious new RPG planned for release in fall 2022. A Kickstarter campaign seeking $500,000 USD in funding for a PC release—with a single stretch goal to unlock PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X, and Switch versions (or next-gen Switch, if one is available)—will run from July 27 at 9:00 a.m. PT / 12:00 p.m. ET to August 28. A trailer will also debut when the campaign launches.

Eiyuden Chronicle: Hundred Heroes is led by Suikoden I and II veteran scenario writer Yoshitaka Murayama, alongside series veterans Junko Kawano, Osamu Komuta, and Junichi Murakami. The project marks the first time these four creators have worked on a game together, as well as the first time Murayama and Kawano have collaborated in 25 years.

“The first thing we decided when our members came together was, ‘It’s about time we made a really interesting game that we ourselves want to make,'” project lead Murayama said in a press release. “We chose Kickstarter in order to make an interesting game with the players in mind, hold the rights to the planning, world, and story of the game, all while keeping the fun of the project. Please lend us your support in this new challenge of ours! We promise to create something that heeds the call of your voices.”

Speaking to Gematsu, Murayama shared more information on the game’s similarities to Suikoden and what elements of the series will carry over.

“Eiyuden Chronicle is about war, or more importantly, the intention and feelings of the 100 heroes who fight that war from a variety of perspectives and for a variety of different reasons,” Murayama told Gematsu. “And of course the drama that can only occur when a group of different people from different walks of life come together and must wage a war of life and death.”

Murayama continued, “And the many characters that participate in this war aren’t just pawns added in as ‘war fodder,’ they have a living breathing soul and begrudgingly must fight to protect the things they believe in. Additionally, there are non-combat specialists, researchers, and other ‘heroes’ on the periphery that can help win battles or lose them. Each and every one of them is a living breathing character that the player gives life to through their choices.”

Each character has their own strengths and weaknesses that can be leveraged to help the player form a balanced team.

“Some characters are good are some things and bad at others,” Murayama explained. “But if you combine them with other characters that can strengthen their weaknesses, you can end up with a really balanced team. And based on that delicate balance your team make be more apt at mining or adventuring which will affect the overall game progression loop. One of the core game loops in Eiyuden is to experience the wide variety of different characters and personalities in your 100 person army.

“With each new character your ‘fortress town’ grows in size and ability. It is a key system in the game. As you increase your teammates, some members will be blacksmiths, some chefs and whether on the battlefield or not, each character will play a role in strengthening your resolve as an army. There are guilds that you can join which will largely change the visual make-up of your fortress town and grant different abilities. The more people you recruit, the stronger the snowball effect. As you level up, new trade options appear along with enemies and thieves that randomly attack your town in an effort to impede your progress. You need to make choices whether to strengthen your walls or hasten your progress. Each choice will make every play session feel different and have its own consequences.”

According to Murayama, all of this is “just the tip of the iceberg,” meaning that fans can expect much more to come.

Here is an overview of the game, via Rabbit & Bear Studios:

■ About

Eiyuden Chronicle: Hundred Heroes is an ode to the classic Japanese RPG genre from the PlayStation era that will feature classic Japanese RPG exploration and battles in high-resolution 2.5D graphics, pixel-based characters, a story of war and friendship, a diverse cast of 100 unique heroes to join the protagonist’s endeavor, and a fortress building system to grow their army.

The game will feature a guild system that allows players to change their fortress attributes based on the guild they join. Battles will be turn-based with parties of up to six members and feature dynamic boss battles that change camera angle and rotate depending on the environment.

■ Studio and Staff

Rabbit & Bear Studios

Founded March 26th, 2020 by Yoshitaka Murayama, Rabbit & Bear Studios asks the age old question, what do gamers really want? It’s something we must never forget as creators. To continually focus on giving the fans the experience they really want.

We have created Rabbit & Bear Studios as the first step in realizing that dream and to have the responsibility that comes with it. That’s our core philosophy and we plan to lead by our actions.

Staff

Story: Yoshitaka Murayama (Suikoden, Suikoden II, The Alliance Alive)

Character Design: Junko Kawano (Suikoden, Suikoden IV, Arca Last)

System Design and Direction: Osamu Komuta (Suikoden Tierkreis, Suikoden Tactics, Arca Last)

Art Direction and Production: Junichi Murakami (Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow, OZ)

Composers: Michiko Naruke (Wild Arms series), Motoi Sakuraba (Tales of series), and more.

■ Story

Welcome to the Continent of Allraan

“Our story begins in one corner of Allraan, a tapestry of nations with diverse cultures and values.

By dint of sword, and by way of magical objects known as “rune-lenses,” the land’s history has been shaped by the alliances and aggressions of the humans, beastmen, elves, and desert people who live there.

The Galdean Empire has edged out other nations and discovered a technology that amplifies the rune-lenses’ magic. Now, the Empire is scouring the continent for an artefact that will expand their power even further.

It is on one such expedition that Seign Kesling, a young and gifted imperial officer, and Nowa, a boy from a remote village, meet each other and become friends.

However, a twist of fate will soon drag them into the fires of war, and force them both to reexamine everything they believe to be right and true.”

■ Characters

Nowa (Default Name)

Sex: Male

Age: 17 years old

Home: A remote village in the League of Nations

Favorite Food: Anything with meat in it

“That’s who I am. A meddler. Always will be—just ask Leene. So don’t tell me to do nothing. I may not be able to help them, but I have to at least try.”

When the League of Nations recruits warriors to assist in a joint expedition with the Galdean Empire, our protagonist answers the call and leaves his remote village to test his skills. On the mission, he finds an ancient rune-lens, unaware that the discovery will spark a war between the League and the Empire. After the conflict begins, he joins a unit in the League’s border guard.

The protagonist is the “leap before you look” type. He doesn’t always weigh the pros and cons before springing to action, and while his constant need to involve himself in other people’s problems sometimes creates headaches for his companions, they like him for it and know his heart is in the right place. After all, if they ever got into trouble, he’d be the first person there.

Seign Kesling

Sex: Male

Age: 18 years old

Home: A noble house in the Galdean Empire

Favorite Food: Poached eggs

“I can dream all I want, but it won’t change a thing. The world is not that kind. So if the only way to achieve my ideals is to betray them first, then I will do that—unflinchingly. You have my word.”

The second-born son to House Kesling, a powerful imperial family. His older brother died on the battlefield. Seign is exceptionally gifted; after achieving outstanding grades at military academy, he was placed in command of a company of his peers and sent on the expedition to find the ancient rune-lens. During the mission, he meets the protagonist. The two warm to each other as they overcome adversity, and they learn of one another’s ambitions.

Seign’s strategic mind allows him to analyze things from a broad perspective and make sound decisions. People often confuse his clear mind for a cold heart, but he is guided by strong ideals and a deep passion to fulfill them.

After his brother’s death during a border rebellion, Seign began to think long and hard about what it means to fight.

Marisa

Sex: Female

Age: 16 years old

Profession: One of the Guardians who watches over the forest

Favorite Food: Herbed chicken

“You just leave the forest to me. I know where the water springs, where the rabbits burrow—and most importantly, where your enemies will try to hide.”

A young member of the Guardians, a clan that hallows and protects the forest. Since Marisa was very little, her family has instilled their ways and traditions in her. She has a warm, affable smile—except on the battlefield, where she wears the countenance of a warrior.

Although the Guardians live as one with the forest, they have respect for the outside world’s culture and technology, and they are not against integrating the parts of it that make sense to them. Marisa is particularly forward-thinking in this regard, and loves new things—especially cute things.

Over the generations, the Guardians have developed a unique method of wielding the rune-lenses. For that reason, both the Empire and the protagonist try to win them over to their camp. Whom the Guardians choose will prove to be a major turning point in history.

Melridge

Sex: Male

Age: 27 years old

Profession: A scholar of natural history

Favorite Food: Duck soup

“You should lay down arms and surrender. That’s the quickest way to end this… No? Very well. Then I suppose I’ll provide you with the next best thing: a winning strategy.”

A young scholar who specializes in natural history. He yearns to know of every last thing in the world, and exactly how it got there. He also happens to be a genius tactician, and will be a valuable asset to the protagonist.

That said, he views warfare as the most pointless of all human endeavors, and any personal contributions to it as a complete waste of time.

Garr

Sex: Male

Age: 32 years old

Profession: Warrior in a clan of mercenaries

Favorite Food: Pancakes slathered with whipped cream

“Only a soft-brained leader runs headlong into danger. Anyone who knows what’s good for him will tell you you’ve lost it, kid. But not me. If blaze-of-glory’s your thing, count me in. We all die in the end. Might as well make it interesting.”

A veteran beastman warrior. He and his clan make their living as mercenaries, and their vast experience and sheer brutality put them in high demand. War is all Garr has known, and to him life is one battlefield after the other until you die.

When a conflict breaks out, every army wants as many beastmen as they can afford. Because mercenary contracts are made with individuals and not the entire clan, it is not uncommon for Garr and his fellow beastmen to face each other as enemies in the field.

Lian

Sex: Female

Age: 16 years old

Home: A martial arts dojo

Favorite Food: Super-spicy ramen

“Uhh, maybe I’m dumbing this down a little, but—like—if a bunch of arrogant swine strut into YOUR home and started acting like they owned the place, what would YOU do? ‘Cause there’s your answer.”

After the Empire’s forces invade League lands, Lian is infuriated and runs away from home…without even the slightest semblance of a plan. She decides the first thing to do is hoof it to the biggest town she can find, and luckily that’s where she meets the protagonist and his companions.

Lian was born in a dojo, and her father wasted no time in teaching her. She was doing roundhouse kicks before she even learned to walk properly.

Mio

Sex: Female

Age: 27 years old

Home: The Far East

Favorite Food: Bamboo-wrapped sasa dumplings

“The road you walk is one, and yet its endpoints are myriad. You can still choose where the road takes you.”

A swordswoman who is journeying to perfect the way of the blade. She has a stoic personality and rarely speaks, unless it’s to challenge someone she views as a worthy opponent.

When she does open her mouth to say something, it’s straight to the point and usually dripping with wisdom, so the people around her have taken to calling her “sensei.” However, even the greatest of senseis do have the occasional brain fart…

■ World

The Waterstead of Quinja

The Seaside Cavern

Watch a gameplay teaser video below. View the first screenshots and artwork at the gallery.

[justmyimagination92]

Why Kylo Ren/Ben Solo and Theon Greyjoy are similar, beautifully grey and real characters that represent overcoming abuse and manipulation and it makes no sense to love one but hate the other, a thread:

*Disclaimer* I have only watched the GoT series & SW movies, I have not read the books or comics for either series but I have done research into both so anything I’m pulling that’s not from the movies or show has been taken from research/information I have gathered from others who have used these sources for their own opinions/arguments/statements as well as from a GoT class I took my senior year of college

Life of Mental/Physical Abuse:

They both had mentally abusive upbringings which is obvious to say has a huge effect on your development and how you perceive the world around you. Theon was the youngest of 4, known to cling more to his mother and not care as much about the ironborn mentality of piracy and raiding as his older brothers did. He was constantly tormented and bullied by them for it as well as feeling neglected by his father for “showing weakness” which made him feel like he didn’t belong and wasn’t accepted in his home. He was then sent off to be Ned Stark’s ward (prisoner) and would be executed if Balon tried to rebel against the throne again. This knowledge is constantly hanging over his head and threatening him even though he makes the best of the situation, especially by finding a brother in Robb. The North and most of the Stark family don’t accept him despite his best efforts in trying to do his best while also missing the Iron Islands and not being able to fulfill his right as the heir to the salt throne

Ben has been mentally abused since he was in his mother’s womb. Palpatine has been in his head since he was conceived, trying to seduce him to the dark because he knew the power Ben would possess from his family. Now were his parents abusive towards him like Balon, Maron, and Rodrik were to Theon? No. But they were afraid of who he could become which definitely drove him towards becoming what they were afraid of to begin with. He felt isolated and alone. Aside from questioning why his parents were afraid of him with no explanation (making him feel like he was some sort of monster), Han was gone the majority of his upbringing and Leia was building the New Republic. He was often left with droids to watch him, further developing his isolation. There’s also apparently an instance where a droid fantasized about killing him and how they’d be able to cover it up? Eventually, L&H sent him off to be trained by Luke due to their growing fear of him becoming like Vader, but he didn’t know because they never told him Vader was his grandfather. He ended up finding out later on when it was announced at a senate meeting that was broadcasted on the holonet. (Keep in mind he’s consistently being mentally tormented and tempted by the dark but fighting it off)

Loss of Identity:

I think you can argue that Theon and Ben have struggled with their identity their entire lives. Before Theon was taken to Winterfell he already felt like he didn’t belong. Then he does his duty as Ned’s ward, placing him in the midst of the rest of the Starks and trying to figure out his place without stepping out of line but also wanting to fit in as best as he can. After Ned dies and he’s at war with Robb he is able to return home to persuade Balon in lending his fleet to help Robb. Balon refuses and now Theon is stuck in deciding if he should help Robb or win over his father and take back his place as a Greyjoy. He leads an attack at Winterfell, betraying his loyalty to Robb, killing two farm boys that all of Westeros believes is Brand and Rickon, which leads to him getting overthrown by the Boltons taking Winterfell back, putting him in the hands of Ramsay who tortures him mentally, physically, and spiritually to the point where he takes on the persona of Reek and truly believes that’s who he is, who he was meant to be and who he deserves to be

Ben has also had this lifelong struggle. He’s tried to follow what his parents have taught him while fighting everything going on in his head. He looked up to his dad and wanted to be a pilot like him despite Han being gone a majority of the time. Not to mention just the pressure he faced with being Han & Leia’s son as well as Luke Skywalker’s nephew. But he could sense and sometimes hear his parents discuss their fear of who he is/who he will be. He was under the impression that they thought he was or could become some sort of monster and gave him no explanation on why they would think that and then was sent off to train with Luke (when there’s no real indication that he wanted that, he just voiced how he wanted to be a pilot) Luke could sense the same darkness in him as H&L but instead of helping him and having a conversation about it he decided to sneak into Ben’s tent one night and kill him before his fears came true. Ben awoke to his own uncle standing over him with an ignited lightsaber about to strike him down. Yes, Luke regretted it the minute he ignited it but it was too late, Ben was awake and betrayed. What he didn’t do (but the galaxy thought he did) was destroy the Jedi temple and the rest of the padawans, a higher power (most likely Palpatine) did and Ben was upset about it and he didn’t want them all to die. He felt like he had nowhere else to go and succumbed to the voice that had been tormenting him for 23 years (but in a way was the only consistent thing in his life) and went to Snoke. He felt unwanted, untrusted, and doomed to become this awful being everyone around him thought he would. He took on the persona Kylo Ren and allowed Snoke to continue to torture him mentally and now physically and spiritually to ultimately turn him into Snoke's chess piece to take over the galaxy

Path of bad decisions driven by the need to please their abuser who gives false hope of a home:

Parts of this are redundant but they both have made some terrible decisions that were heavily influenced by the manipulation of their abusers and a need for a sense of acceptance and belonging. Theon wanted to please Balon and later Ramsay, Kylo wanted to please Snoke and his grandfather (who we later find out was all Palpatine). The majority of deaths that Kylo is blamed for were under Snoke’s orders and Kylo was either unaware they were happening or tried to prevent them and resort to other solutions to get whatever it is they wanted. He killed his father because he was convinced it would make him stronger and reach his potential on “who he’s destined to be” when really it tore him apart and destroyed him, 

similarly to how Theon felt after he killed those farm boys and saw what his actions had created for Winterfell and Westeros 

Acceptance of “who they truly are” through self-hatred and regret:

Through this they come to terms with their actions and the destruction that has followed from those actions. They believe they deserve the pain and suffering they’ve had their whole lives. Theon is constantly saying how Theon is dead, he’s Reek and he deserves to be. Ben states how Ben is dead, he’s only Kylo now and that he deserves to be seen as a monster.  

Needing help to be pulled back to their true selves:

Their inner conflict is clear through both of their journeys and it’s clear that others can see that. They need help to be pulled in the right direction and reminded that they’re not the person they think they are. Yara comes for Theon when everyone else has given up on him. He’s her brother and regardless of what he’s done she still cares for him and believes in him. However, even the love of his sister can’t persuade him or break the abusive turmoil he’s been suffering and he stays with Ramsay as Reek. 

Then Sansa comes, someone he has grown up with and cares for. She learns the truth that he didn’t kill Bran and Rickon. She knows who Theon really is and she brings him back, she needs him back and gives him the strength to do it. 

Similarly, we see Han trying to bring Ben back in TFA, and like with Yara and Theon, it doesn’t work. He believes Ben is dead, that his family gave up on him and he did too so he can only be Kylo now. And as we see later on, the act of killing Han only made it worse and caused a deeper pain and regret to Ben as well as the conflict on where he lies in the force. In TLJ we see this and how Kylo seems to be chipping away from coming to terms with everything he’s done. 

(I would also like to point out that in TLJ Ben couldn’t kill his mother and it’s stated that had he noticed quick enough he would’ve stopped the blasters from hitting the bridge) He gets a connection with Rey, who at first wants nothing to do with him and sees him as the monster he thinks he is. But similarly to Sansa, she finds out the story Luke told her about him destroying the Jedi Temple was a lie and from then on they’re able to console in one another and understand the pain and isolation they’ve both felt their whole lives. 

When Luke refuses to go back and help Rey and the resistance she takes it upon herself to go and fight to bring Ben back to the light because she can see that he’s still there.

Taking a stand against their abusers, specifically to help save someone they love:

They both go against their abusers and take a huge leap towards taking back their true selves. Theon wants to help Sansa and she gives him a few chances too, for example with the candle but he ends up telling Ramsay. However when Ramsay is gone Sansa is crossed by Miranda and even though he’s still filled with fear and conflict, he throws Miranda off the ledge to save Sansa and finally defies his tormentor and everything that he’s done.

Kylo retrieves Rey when she lands on the capital ship and takes her to see Snoke. In the elevator they both state how they’ve had a vision of seeing them by each other’s sides. Kylo takes it as Rey joining him in the dark but Rey sees it as him reclaiming who he was supposed to be and even refers to him as Ben which he responds to. 

(for the majority of knowing him she called him Kylo, monster, etc but since they touched hands and she saw the conflict she now sees him as a real person and more importantly Ben) Snoke wants Kylo to kill her in order to reach is full potential since killing Han only made him question the path he was going down even more. However, he tricks Snoke and instead kills him instead of Rey, destroying his abuser and saving Rey who is the only one he’s ever been able to connect to.

Reclaiming their identity:

Even though they have someone in their corner, believing in them and helping them to come back to who they are, it takes time. Theon stays with Sansa until they cross paths with Brienne and Podrick and knows she’ll be safe with them. He then heads back to the Iron Islands to join Yara and help her however he can. He still feels as though he’s Reek and doesn’t deserve any redemption or to be trusted/loved. 

Overtime those who still believe in him and given time to heal he reclaims himself as Theon Greyjoy, not even the one from before, but a better and stronger man because it’s who he chooses and wants to be. He saves Yara from Euron and goes back to Winterfell to help fight against the dead. He protects Bran at the Weirwood tree bringing it back and trying to rewrite his wrong when he took Winterfell from Bran and caused him to abandon his home. Even though Arya is the one to ultimately save Bran by killing the Night King, she wouldn’t have been able to without Theon and his sacrifice.

Now Kylo’s is a little different and his journey back to Ben takes a few more steps. Killing Snoke was supposed to be him reclaiming himself and finally getting rid of the demons that have been haunting him his entire life. But now we’re aware that Palpatine created Snoke and was the one who has been in his head the whole time so really those voices are still there, abusing and tormenting him to do what they want. Except now he has something more to fight for. He knows Rey believes in him and they have a bond, a force dyad, that hasn’t been seen for centuries. We don’t get to see much of how Supreme Leader Kylo Ren deals with First Order affairs but I would assume it would be different from how Snoke handled it considering (as stated earlier) Kylo tried to get what they needed in the easiest way, preventing as much unnecessary harm or death. (I also would like to point out that at the beginning of TROS we see Kylo in Mustafar and all of the people he’s killing are Vader cultists so they were bad beings) He then travels to Palpatine who reveals it’s been him all along in his head and Kylo threatens to kill him, but then palp shows his army he’s been creating, how it could be Kylo’s, and reveals who Rey truly is. Palp wants him to kill her and he tricks him into thinking he will when really he chases her around to tell her this information as well as see if it’s true and to prevent her from getting killed. They fight a lot but it’s always Rey initiating it and Ben defending himself when he needs to. He gets distracted during one of their fights because Leia is reaching out to him and in the process, Rey stabs him with his own lightsaber (death of Kylo Ren) but ends up healing him and tells him that she did want him, the real him

He then has a vision of Han and basically reenacts what happened in TFA but has it play out how he wished it did the first time. He is now truly Ben Solo and goes to Exogal to help Rey and defeat Palpatine. After Rey kills Palpatine she dies and Ben comes back (he was thrown down deep pit) and transfers his life force to her to save her. Like the situation with Theon, if Ben wasn’t there Rey wouldn’t have been able to defeat Palpatine and save the galaxy.

Only got to live in peace with themselves for like 2 minutes:

They both get complex, intriguing, and beautiful arcs of redemption that represent realistic struggles of life and grey morality that people face throughout their lives. But they both end with a terrible message that the only way to fully redeem yourself from past mistakes, bad decisions (even if it was influenced by a life of mental/physical abuse) is to sacrifice yourself.

Theon sacrificed himself to save Bran and the fate of Westeros and was only able to be at peace with himself for about the last 20 seconds of his life because Bran forgave him, told him he was a good man and confirmed the type of person Theon really is and always wanted to be.

he deserved to feel this way for a MUCH longer time and continue to heal and grow and live a life that gave him much more peace and happiness (preferably with Sansa 😏) but instead he only gets to feel good about himself for the first time in his life and have it only last for a moment.

Once Rey defeated Palpatine it’s safe to say that the voices stopped in Ben’s head. There’s no more tormenting, persuading, or taunting. He climbs out of the pit to find Rey dead (his literal other half) and channels the rest of his energy to bring her back and it works. Similar to Bran, Rey confirms her joy and acceptance of Ben being back 

and he would’ve been fully content with that, but Rey kisses him and he smiles for the first fucking time we’ve ever seen. His mind is at peace, Rey is alive in his arms and for the first time he is truly happy. And then he DIES. 

Who knows what would’ve happened to him and how the resistance would’ve reacted, but he deserved the opportunity to atone for the mistakes he made, live life with a clear mind, as well as continue to be the other half of Rey that brought balance to the force and galaxy.

Bonus:

They both deserve to be with the only person that fully understands them and their pain and can grow, heal, and live in peace together.

[k7l4d4]

Sonic Franchise OCs and Character Adaptations

Hello all, today I am taking the plunge and crafting some Original Characters for the Sonic Franchise of Video Games, Comics, TV Series, and Movies! As well as adapting one of the Franchise’s characters a bit, nothing too serious though I don’t think. Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

Brawl the Hedge-Wolf

Alignment: Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Quote: “For things to change, something is lost. Fact.”

Personality: Brash and blunt, and sort of dense, Brawl has a nasty temper and is slow to understand a situation, yet nonetheless he cares for others and wants to make the world better in his own way. Of course, his idea of better can sometimes leave something to be desired. One of his prominent traits is his genuine fondness and desire to protect kids and make them laugh, and he often grows distressed at the of people finding him frightening in any way.

Synopsis: Created from the Data Dark Gaia acquired from Sonic’s Werehog state, Brawl is the latest variant of Dark Gaia’s Apostles, beings dedicated to preventing the stagnation of the world by destroying that which threatens to leave the world still and unchanging. Despite the cringy edgelord vibes this gives, Brawl is very much dedicated to his mission, constantly traveling to find new irregularities that are threatening to overly stabilize the world, particularly for the worse.

History: Brawl is a Hedge-Wolf, a completed version of Sonic’s unstable Werehog form. The Werehog state that Sonic once held was a result of him being infused with Dark Gaia’s power and being transformed into an artificial Apostle, something that left him unbalanced and dangerous to himself and potentially others. Dark Gaia’s Apostles have always existed, but they usually assume the twisted forms of Dark Gaia’s Minions, and often have limited capacities for true intelligence and ingenuity. To counter this, and to ensure that they are only unleashed under the correct circumstances, Dark Gaia used the data it gained from absorbing Sonic’s Werehog state to construct a new champion.

Powers: As a result of intensive study on Sonic’s Werehog form, and his natural state to boot, Brawl possesses all the abilities of Sonic’s Werehog form, but with something of a twist. Unlike the slow, lumbering pace of Sonic’s Werehog, Brawl is quite fast; he isn’t as fast as Sonic, but he can still outrace the vast majority of vehicles, be they of land, sea, or sky, and can even mimic some of Sonic’s battle techniques, such as the Spin Dash and Homing Shot, albeit with his personal twist. 

Brawl’s use of the Spin Dash is far less controlled and movement oriented than Sonic’s being more akin to a Buzz-saw being launched from a cannon than anything else, and once he assumes it, he has difficulty changing directions before he hits something. Brawl’s version of the Homing Shot is more along the lines of a headlong rush towards a target, lacking the ability to follow up into an additional shot like the original could, but counter-balances by allowing Brawl to instantly break into a sprint upon a hit and resume attacking.

Fighting Style: Brawl’s fighting style is far more fast-paced than the lumbering barrage of attacks Sonic adopted during his stint as Werehog, taking advantage of his habit of using his speed by traveling upon all fours to attack by turning his body into a living missile, combining his strength, speed, and momentum to send anything and everything he hits flying. He rarely fights standing, but when he does, Brawl typically uses his elastic limbs to grab his enemies and throw them clear, either to give himself room to charge them, or to use them as ammunition to take out multiple foes at once. While not the quickest thinker, Brawl has a knack for tactics, easily employing and executing ambushes and hit-and-run strikes as he pleases.

Appearance: Brawl largely resembles Sonic’s Werehog state, albeit with a more balanced build, having a leaner torso and less bulbous fists, though they are still pretty big. Brawl is noticeably taller than Sonic, standing a full two-heads above the speedy Hedgehog, and lengthier legs to accommodate his height. Brawl’s most distinguishing trait, however, are the tribalistic markings of his fur, giving him a oddly wild and mystic look to him.

Sticks the Badger

Alignment: Chaotic Good/Neutral Good

Quote: “They say I’m crazy, and I am! Crazy prepared.”

Personality: Paranoid, and something of a loner, Sticks is slow to trust and slower to accept the help of others. Regardless, Sticks genuinely cares about people underneath her suspicious demeanor, and will often lend a hand as needed. Sticks has a fervent belief in the reliability of nature, and often grows annoyed by the reliance on technology of others, and takes extra joy from trashing the tech of Mechanically inclined villains like Eggman. Blunt and to the point, Sticks has little care for social niceties, often resulting in her unintentionally angering people, though she is usually genuinely confused why people would be upset with her for her comments.

Synopsis: Growing up in the wild, Sticks has an unusual affinity for nature and has a prominent distaste for those who push for development, though she is willing to admit, however grudgingly, that people do need places to live and grow. Sticks often stays behind the scenes, only engaging when someone is stupid enough to mess with the forests and jungles she places under her protection, or those who try and exploit nature’s bounty for selfish and stupid reasons. Despite her distaste for tech, Sticks possesses remarkable talent at working with it, being able to successfully repair even some of the most complex and delicate of machines when needed. Don’t tell her I told you that.

History: Sticks first came to the attention of Sonic and his friends when reports of a strange wild-girl destroying machines needed to develop land came in. After several tense confrontations, Sticks revealed that the forest the development was taking place on was protected due to the rare and endangered plants and animals who called it home, and that the developers were moving dangerous chemicals and substances through the area, in other words, dumping toxic waste and chemicals illegally and using urban development to cover it up. After the reveal, Sticks became an on-again off-again ally of the team, joining up on missions whenever it looked like nature was being threatened, or when technology was being abused.

Powers: In terms of more supernatural abilities, Sticks is far from lacking, as she possesses two very deadly skills for combat; natural psychometry and aura manipulation. Her psychometry allows her to read the past or near future of plants, animals, and natural structures near her, and it often acts as her early warning system of threats against the environment. Sticks gained her ability in aura manipulation during an as of yet unknown adventure during her youth, the memory of which is lost to her; her usage of aura allows her to reinforce and augment objects, tools, and weapons using her own life force, though it isn’t something she uses much due to how draining it is. 

In terms of more mundane skills, Sticks is something of a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to survival and nature. Sticks has extensive knowledge of the skills and training one needs to live in the wild, and is a confirmed expert in the creation and usage of traps, camouflage, and tracking. A deft hand with thrown weapons in general, Sticks is a Master at using Boomerangs to fight, with her personal Boomerang being carved with mystic wood to grant it a supernaturally sharp edge when thrown and to ensure it always returns to her, no matter how long it takes or how far it has to go. Sticks has an extremely keen eye for detail, and as a result can breakdown and identify the nature of an enemy’s combat techniques rather quickly; she can also use this talent to mimic and copy engineering and mechanical skills, something she employs grudgingly but effectively as needed.

Fighting Style: Sticks is almost assassin-like in her approach, often avoiding direct fights when possible, and using her skills at stealth to strike from her enemies blind-spots and general weak-points. Sticks usually fights by either throwing her boomerang in precision hits, or by rushing in close and using her boomerang as either a knife or club to end a fight quickly. A downside to her preferred fighting style is that Sticks is rather fragile to direct blows, something she usually tries to keep from getting around, but her acrobatic abilities enable her to avoid most blows that would give her immediate trouble, though not all.

Appearance: Largely the same as her Sonic Boom appearance, but trading her skirt for a pair of shorts, and holsters on her back and sides to store her boomerang. She also wears a pair of combat boots to give her better traction in the types of environments she usually favors, plus she thinks they look awesome to boot (Forgive the pun, I’m exhausted right now).

Well, I got this done, let me know what you all think!

[tracelessrp]

ROLAND BANCROFT-BISHOP is a 28 year old WITCH, who looks a lot like THOMAS DOHERTY. RO spends time at Traceless because HE IS TRYING TO FIND SOMEONE. HE is known for HIS EXPERIENCE WITH DARK MAGIC, HIS ENHANCEMENT SKILLS, AND CRAZY DREAMS.

Hometown: Salem, Massachusetts  Current Residence: Traceless Village  How long they have visited Traceless: New Arrival (2-3 days). Abilities: Roland is a jack of all trades but master of none when it comes to magic. He finds it easier when he uses emotion with his magic; when he is happy, or focused, the magic is easier to use. He also has incredible durability, with the ability to use magic for extended time periods, or withstand a lot of magical attacks. Ro is best with potions, and often does better with spells or runes, and can be a great enhancer of power for others. Honestly? He is still searching for his “great power”, which he is convinced he must have hidden somewhere. 

Character Background: 

Trigger warnings for violence, death, neglect of a child

Being born a Bancroft-Bishop had more history than Roland realized for most of his life. Salem, Massachusetts was famous for its folklore with witches and The Salem Witch Trials, and somehow his destiny became tightly interwoven with past, present, and future. During the original Trials back in the 1690s, the Bishop name was synonymous with witch hunter. It was something that never truly left the lineage of the family, even after a marriage in the 1740s between a Bishop and a Bancroft was arranged to establish peace. Bancroft was a particularly strong lineage of witches, one almost eradicated in the Trials. Fast forward a few hundred years, and you have him - Roland Bancroft-Bishop. There was a fast bond between Ro and his father, one that only deepened with the passing of his mother when he was 11. Along with her death came the anger, and with the anger, centuries old grudges resurfaced. Ro was filled with stories of Salem’s history, of the witches who ruined it, who cursed and poisoned the town, and the men who rose from the ashes to save it from their wicked power. 

Ro’s father blamed witches - and a 300 year old curse placed on the Bancroft name - for his wife’s death, and so Ro did, too. It wasn’t long before his father decided Roland should know the truth about their quaint, tourist-y town… witches still existed, and the fight was ever on. 

Aside from the supernatural element, Roland lived a pretty good normal life for most of his upbringing. His family was wealthy; they were old money, roots deeper in Salem than the trees. Their home at the end of Main Street was all brick, lined with windows, and could’ve leapt from a historical site itself; but you’d never have guessed how lush Ro’s pockets were by looking at him. He liked the outdoors, he liked the “survival trips” he’d take with his dad, he loved camping and boating, climbing - it didn’t matter what it was, Ro thrived on the adventure of it all. Witch hunting came easily to him because of that, those base animal instincts to hunt, catch, survive. His father did nothing but encourage and praise Roland, so by his teenhood, the boy had become quite cocky and energetic. 

Then it happened… magic flooded Salem, and a coven was unveiled from the shadows. It was chaos from the first moment Roland laid eyes on the first of the witches he would eventually be captured by, with ice-blond hair and a frosted gaze. Blood was spilled, friends were lost on both sides, and Roland found himself left in the wreckage with the one thing he held most dear gone forever - his identity. 

First the tea, drugged, and then, the dreams, and finally… the awakening. Ro had fallen asleep himself and awoke as something more. The same witch who had been entrusted to hold him captive had turned his own blood against him, pumping him full of what lay asleep underneath, and he woke with magic. A witch. The hunter becomes the hunted. 

Of course he couldn’t go home. Roland doubted his father’s hatred of witches would stop him from taking any of them out, himself included. He couldn’t join the coven, obviously, not to mention the war between the hunters and the witches had torn the survivors apart, and scattered them in opposite directions. There was nowhere else to go but to stay with her, his captor, his now self-proclaimed mentor. Ro was surprised how quickly it felt natural, how quickly the two fell into a routine, and somehow, began to build a life. He’d watch her in moments she thought she was alone, practicing her most incredible magic; the ability to wield the cold around her. It became different to him as he’d watch, see her grow, see how own abilities grow. No longer was magic something to despise and snuff out, but something to pursue. 

Though magic had always run through Ro’s blood since birth, it was heavily diluted and weakened, rendered dormant. It never would have come forth without some extra help from a powerful, determined witch and an ancient ritual. It was weaker than the magic he’d witnessed in Salem, and this frustrated Roland. He’d never wanted to be a magical being anyway, but once he was, he had to be stuck with fickle, mild powers that were basically useless? Perhaps this instinctive desire for power is what originally drove Ro to dark magic, at least in the beginning. Something to “jump-start” the process, something to coax out what he knew had to be lurking inside. The sinister spells and the power of dark magic tempted Roland, and when he found a medallion pendant that promised to lend the wearer strength, he was sold. It snowballed from there, and Roland was already in too deep by the time he realized he’d lost her. 

The longer he wore the pendant, the worse Roland’s mind got, the more his heart darkened. He received the power he wanted, but the cost continued to get greater, and this carried on for years. Roland found himself traveling, familiarizing himself with vampires and other witches, picking up the pieces of everyone’s magic and creating a capsule within himself. When the dreams started, Ro ignored them… but it was the same dream, night after night, and growing more realistic. 

What neither he or the ice witch had realized was that the ritual performed to turn Roland into a witch created a soul bond between the two. It was all but erased by the black magic Ro had taken to using, but something had changed. Something had strengthened the bond between him and the witch, and now it was calling to him. Hidden in Traceless, and a witch and her daughter carried on their life, and the older the little girl got, the more Ro couldn’t fight the dreams. 

Roland is a hunter, so he followed the clues, and he broke free of the darkness fading his mind. His connections with the supernatural helped him find Traceless, a suggestion from a friend of a friend who knew a guy who served a good cup of coffee (and hid a whole world right out the back door) leading Roland into the coffee shop’s doors, and discovering the village. Hopefully, discovering the witch, and fixing the disaster he’d left in his wake. 

(ooc: ghost, 25, they/them, est)

[tomasorban]

Inanna: Relevance and Return

The Sumerian Goddess Inanna came to the notice of modern women in 1983 when Diane Wolkstein and Samuel Kramer published Inanna: Queen of Heaven and Earth. But she first appeared in recorded history about 5,500 years ago. Written myths are almost always pre-dated by many generations of oral traditions, so it plausible to assume that her stories were passed down orally through many generations before writing became extant. Throughout the centuries she has morphed and changed as she moved from culture to culture, empire to nation. Over the years Inanna became Ishtar, Asherah, Astarte, Astoreth, Aphrodite, Ainina, Danina, and possibly Dali of the Georgians. Her worship died out slowly in the Middle East between the third and fifth centuries A.D., but she left her mark in Marion theology with hymns of lamentation attributed to Mary, but taken straight from Inanna’s lamentations for Damuzi.

Inanna was the goddess of sexual love and war. She was fierce, conniving, intelligent: quick to anger, but just as quick to reward loyalty. There are many stories about her, such as The Epic of Gilgamesh, Inanna and the Huluppu-Tree, Inanna and the God of Wisdom, The Courtship of Inanna, and The Descent of Inanna. It was the latter that caught and held the interest of women involved in Goddess Spirituality.

Although the myth is titled The Descent of Inanna the salient point is actually her return. The tale begins with Inanna’s decision to visit the underworld to meet her sister Ereshkigal, Queen of the Underworld, who is mourning her dead husband. Bad blood exists between the sisters—Inanna has been instrumental in the death of The Bull of Heaven. The other gods gossip about Inanna, speculating about her motives—perhaps she wishes to make peace with her sister, perhaps she wishes to steal her powers, but Inanna keeps her own counsel and determines to go alone.

Wisely, before she goes, Inanna concocts a plan with her trusted handmaiden, Ninshubar, giving her explicit instructions about what to do if her mistress does not return. Then, girding herself with seven powers, she rides away, driving her own chariot toward the underworld.

On hearing of Inanna’s arrival, Ereshkigal orders the gatekeeper to close the seven gates of her palace. As Inanna requests passage through each gate, she must divest herself of one of her powers. In the end she arrives in Ereshkigal’s hall naked. Her arrival coincides with the entrance of the judges of the underworld. They sentence her to death and stick her body on a meat hook, where it hangs for three days and three nights.

Meanwhile, Ninshubar has begun making the rounds of the gods. Each one turns her down until she reaches Inanna’s father, Enki. Enki heeds Ninshubar’s plea. He scrapes dirt from beneath his fingernails. Mixing it with a little spittle, he fashions two tiny winged creatures called gala to sneak past the gatekeeper and fly down into Ereshkigal’s realm. To one he gives the life-giving plant and to the other the life-giving water. He whispers instructions in their ear and sends them on their way.

Down in the underworld Ereshkigal continues to mourn, wailing unceasingly day and night. She is pregnant with her dead husband’s child. When the gala find Ereshkigal they hover by her ears and mourn with her. When she groans, “Oh, my liver!” they groan, “Oh, my liver!” When she cries, “Oh, my heart!” they cry, “Oh, my heart!” Ereshkigal is so grateful to be heard and comforted on her own terms that she offers them anything they desire. Following Enki’s instructions, they ask for the body of Inanna. Anointing her with the precious life-giving water and plant, the galas restore Inanna to life and together they set out on the journey home.

Once again, however, the judges intervene and refuse Inanna passage unless she finds someone to take her place in the underworld. She promises to find a replacement and, accompanied by a posse of enforcing demons, she storms up into the sunlight.

Thus begins a round of visits to Inanna’s hairdresser, her son, and her brother, all of whom have mourned her with the proper mourning rites. Faithful Ninshubar offers to take Inanna’s place but the goddess vehemently refuses. Finally they come to Inanna’s consort, Damuzi, who has barely noted her absence. He is sitting under a fig tree, feasting. Inanna, incensed at his indifference, orders the demons to grab him. But Damuzi calls upon Utu, the sun god, Inanna’s brother, to honor an old debt and rescue him. Utu helps him escape the demons and he manages to hide. The demons, however, are relentless in their pursuit and eventually run him to ground

Even then, his luck holds. Damuzi’s adoring sister intervenes and begs for his life, promising to take his place underground for half of every year. Tired of the whole business and possibly half-inclined to take Damuzi back, Inanna agrees.

This is a complicated tale, dovetailing and interweaving in places with other cycles and creatures of myth. It is a multilevel teaching story, depicting what Joseph Campbell called the hero’s journey; explicit directions on how to properly mourn a death; the advantage of prior planning; faithful service; parental love; the courage to face the unknown and the bad consequences inherent in wrong action. Lots of information to be packed, condensed and synthesized into one fabulous story.

At every level this myth resounds with true situations in which humans of every age find themselves. But it specifically appeals to modern women, because in Inanna we find a heroine who predates the extremes of patriarchal culture in which we find ourselves enmeshed today. She acts independently, while remaining in good relationship with men—her father, brother, and hairdresser. She has a strong, solid friend and ally in Ninshubar. She is not afraid to face the unknown and perseveres in the face of loss and sacrifice. Like many women she struggles in relationship with her mate.

But the part of the story with which women resonate most strongly is the journey of relinquishment, the egoic death, and the restoration of power. Using this part of the myth, circles of women have been manifesting and enacting their own rituals of letting go, creating space, and allowing new ways of seeing and being to take the place of what no longer serves them.

Sometimes the journeys are entirely imaginary, taking place as guided meditations in quiet, dimly lit rooms. Sometimes women build metaphorical gates as simple as seven scarves laid in rows across a room. Sometimes the gates are more elaborate structures, painted and adorned.

The gates may be assigned particular attributes—names, colors, stones, trees, etc. The seven chakras lend themselves particularly well to this rite. Furthermore, the descent and return may be pinned to a particular life passage like a marriage, a birth, the loss of a job or start of a new career, the death of a beloved mate, child, pet, or friend. It works well for any occasion that requires a relinquishment or some kind of death but also offers renewal and restoration.

In every ceremony I’ve been privy to or had described to me, there is always a time of study and preparation. Women do not undertake such a ritual unprepared or in ignorance of what it means. Always the gatekeepers remain present and aware, careful to gauge the mood of the group and the progress of each participant.

Inanna, with her link to sex and death, is not to be invoked without safeguards in place. Her myth specifically calls for opening the doors between the conscious and unconscious mind incrementally and ceremoniously. The story warns us that the journey is a long and dangerous one, a risky business that requires gravitas and can involve tears, howls, vomit, diarrhea, or ecstasy.

The Descent offers a chance to look clearly at tired habits of thought and action. A woman may finally admit to an addiction or see how some long-denied pattern of action has failed her time and again. The Return offers a chance for something to be born or recovered. A woman may reclaim a talent or a forgotten dream, put aside years before, that suddenly offers itself, once more, as a viable choice. The possibilities are endless and unique to each individual on the journey. The point is change.

The Goddess, in every form she takes, is all about change. Inanna, the Queen of Heaven, replete with every kind of talent, adoration, and power, begins her journey because of a desire to change. We don’t know why. Often in old teaching tales the questions left unanswered hold their own secret wisdom.

Perhaps she doesn’t know. Perhaps she longs for mystery. Undoubtedly she is aware that in undertaking this journey nothing will ever be the same again. The point is she decides on change and then rides out to meet it. A wise woman once told me, “Change or die!” At the time she terrified me and I had no idea what she meant or why she would say such a terrible thing. But her words continued to ring in my ears through the years every time I had a choice, every time a risk presented itself or a circumstance demanded courage. Her directive did indeed change my life and always for the better, though at times it took a little hindsight to understand how.

Inanna’s descent and return exemplify the “both and” inherent in Goddess Spirituality. One may change one’s self and hence the surrounding world both by releasing and/or embracing. Possibly, yesterday’s release will one day become tomorrow’s embrace or vice versa. The journey is an ongoing process of dismantling and rebuilding that goes on throughout life. Inanna’s ritual gives us focus, a sacred space in which to step out of time and consciously enact a psychological process that one way or another life will force us to undertake anyway. Engaging in it willingly, we emerge chastened, humble, and radiant, suffused with the power and strength of an ancient archetype. Inanna returns in glory to walk the world anew, as she has so many times before.

[roraruu]

wip: beyond the pines

tw: mentions of domestic abuse, death.

Python’s known the edge of town for years. Or at least to stay far from it. It’s the first thing that children around here are told: stay far from the edge of town past sundown. They learn it before they can even toddle on their feet.

The edge of town, the place beyond the pines, is where the wolves linger. From childhood, kids are taught how to handle a knife, protection against the natural predators. This land belongs not to humanity, but the earth. And should the Mother will it, so it shall be.

The wolves own these lands. When night falls, they come to claim it again, Faithful, warlord or travelling merchant be damned.

Python himself has known these lands since he was born. He knows the warnings well, he knows that the town elders might come after him, he knows that he lays his life on the line tonight. But he is not the boy he was this morning when the sun rose.

His Mother is dead, by his father’s hands. The old man fled for sometime until the rumours had died down. Python had come across his Mother’s body, the marks of a toothed blade along her neck.

It was a wolf. Someone said. Everyone seemed to believe that, or at least, accept it better than the truth. Though, the tooth marks of a blade are much different than the fangs of a wolf.

His father came back a few weeks later when the rumour mill churned out new lies and the snow came. A drunkard can’t sleep in the woods for long, especially in territory like this. He’s been more subdued, more quiet, perhaps a pitiful replacement for remorse, perhaps he’s just scared that Python will say something. He doesn’t know.

Python however, can barely look at him without wanting to pull the knife he carries for self defence on him.

When Python returns home from the day’s work—odd jobs of lugging lumber with his childhood friend and watching that wolves don’t eat the flock of sheep that keeps them all alive—and sees his father in front of the fire, waiting for a dinner he presumes will be cooked for him, he tells him to go fuck himself.

That earns Python a bloody nose.

The boy stumbles back into the walls of the house before glancing up. Blood dribbles down his face, marking his skin with crimson. He stares at his father, dead in the eye and then says the most hateful thing a child may say to a parent.

“I wish you were dead.”

His father doesn’t flinch, doesn’t falter. Python runs from the house and into the night.

He knows the warnings well. He knows what waits on the edge of the town. Everyone’s home are locked up tight, even his best friend Forsyth’s. The church, the last sense of hope he has, is maybe open, perhaps they will have a spare bed for him tonight.

But the old church is on the edge of town.

He can hear the old door of his family home swing open.

And surely how he looks will leave the old priest thrown.

He glances over his shoulder.

Stay far from the edge of town past sundown.

His boot grinds in the dirt. Python makes a run for it. The cold air nips at his exposed skin. He had no time to grab to grab a cloak. No time to grab the knife.

He’s almost to the church, at the edge of the town. Python glances over his shoulder, his father’s frame growing smaller and smaller as he stops. He looks horrified and turns back to the way of the family home. Python elates for a second and then screams.

He cant tell if the howl is the wind’s or of a far-off wolf, calling for it’s pack mates. The company of wolves is a bad one to keep, especially for a young man who knows little of the world and even less of life. He’s staring at the stars above his head, the fangs of a wolf in his shoe. He’s being dragged through the town, his screams deafening. He calls for someone to help him, to save him as he’s dragged beyond the pines.

Python’s hands clamber for something to grab onto, to hold tight. The gravel scratches up his back as his hands graze a fallen tree branch. He cries out, thrashing it around until he’s blue in the face and screaming.

The wolf lets go and growls. Python tries to get to his feet, but his ankle is swollen and bleeding. His blood has attracted them, no doubt about it. The wolf growls at him and Python tries to aim for it’s head, as he was taught as a boy. When he raises the branch, the wolf’s mouth clamps around it, snapping the wood in two. His hands come up to cover his face and he screams for help.

He prepares to feel fangs rip across his face and go blind. There’s been tales of that in his town. Warnings actually, to the good children who listen to their parents. The good children won’t ever have to worry about his. He says a prayer to the Earth Mother, that this will be a quick painless death.

But instead of pain, he hears a howl and then a whimper.

He struggles to sit up, scrambling back to the edge of the pines, where the wood is dark and thick and the wolves roam. A moonbeam slices through the darkness, just for a moment. It’s long enough for Python to see a white wolf, different than the slick, dark-coated ones who stalk the night, tearing at the other one.

It glances back at him, it’s grey eyes searching him.

Python’s frozen, his fingers clenching into the ground as the other wolf tumbles over it, resuming the battle. For a second, he gawks at the battle of dominance before him.

Then, the white wolf howls.

Python clambers to his feet, running as fast as he can beyond the edge of the pines and back to the edge of town. By the time he gets there, lights have gone up in windows and people begin to wake at last. He stumbles towards the church, to sanctuary.

***

Python listens to the calls of the wolves at night.

It’s been years since he was attacked. He remembers little from that night, save for the white wolf who saved him and collapsing on the church steps.

Little has changed. His father drank himself to death. Python lives a hand to mouth life now, refusing to take over his father’s carpentry business. Like a kid, he still takes the scraps and odd jobs people will give to him. Although, he finds himself protecting the town more often than not now at night. Forsyth joins him.

The town elders ordered for a crack down against the wolves. Claims that they wouldn’t control them from now on ran wild. Calls for strapping young men to protect the town were answered by Forsyth (and reluctantly him). The howls of the wolves grew more and more distant.

He still carries the knife. It’s usually strapped to his thigh. Though, his arm suits a bow better. He can shoot a shot and most of the time it doesn’t miss. He sleeps during the day and stays on watch with Forsyth at night for wolves. They usually build a fire to keep the wolves away.

Forsyth’s already tired out. He spent most of the day training and lending his strength to the baker’s daughter—she’d claimed she needed someone to push her wagon for deliveries and Forsyth was all too eager to answer. The fire flicker before them and Python gets up.

“Where are you going?” Forsyth asks. Sleep taints his voice.

“Just to the river, I’m out.” He waves his canteen.

“Take your bow.”

“Don’t fall asleep and I won’t have to.” Python says. He swipes his old wooden bow off of the ground and slings it over his back. His quiver hangs off his hip, hitting against his thigh. Forsyth pulls the sheepskin tighter around himself, his head drooping to the side.

Python begins the walk to the river, just a few moments away from their shitty little camp. The pines link together, almost turning black. He looks to the side, and sees the silvery coat of a wolf. He pulls his bow off his back and stares at it before it flees away from him.

He considers going back, just for a split second.

Against better judgment, he goes towards the river. He moves as quick as he can, towards the rocky little beach. The water trickles downstream towards, glistening in the moon’s light. He uncorks his canteen, dips it in the water and looks around for the wolf. He’ll slit it’s throat if he need be.

The scars left behind by the wolf ache from time to time. He finds himself wanting to claw at them. His hand flies to his pant leg, letting go of his canteen, it begins to float downstream. He lets out a loud cuss, lunging after it.

He looks up. Across the river, he sees the eyes of a young woman. Her dress is in tatters, the cloak around her shoulders torn up too. Her hair is messy, going every which way and chopped off at the neck. Python stares up at her for a moment, the rush of the water silencing against his mind. His heart thunders in his chest.

She’s in the water, her hands on his canteen. She offers a thin smile. The edges of her lips curl up, just like a wolf’s, her teeth bared and glaring in the light of moon.

“Give it back.”

“I wouldn’t keep it for myself.” She says.

Python holds out his hand. The woman wades across the water, her dress moving slowly and gracefully in the pull of the river currents. She holds it out for him, still in the water.

“You’re fucking crazy?”

“How?” She asks. Her voice is soft and sweet.

“You’re in freezing water, you’ll catch cold you moron.”

She smiles again. “No I won’t.” She leans closer, as if to tell a secret. “The Mother walks with me.”

“The Mother can’t protect you against sickness.”

“Yes she can.” She smiles. Python fills up his canteen and stands up quickly. “She has power everywhere.”

“Not in someone as skinny as you.” He says. “Your dress too. Hope you didn’t travel far in that.”

“I’m not a traveller.”

“Then live around here?”

“No.”

Python stops and eyes her cautiously. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” She asks back with a simper.

Python’s brow knits a little. “Nobody.”

“Then I’m nobody to you too.” He shoots back. Python turns to walk back to the camp. He hears her footsteps follow him.

“Why did you come to the edge of the wood?” The woman asks.

“None of your business.”

“I hear tale of wolves running around here. They say to lock up tight and stay in.”

“Maybe I don’t give a damn about the wolves.” Python turns back to face her. “Ever thought about that?”

She smirks. Her dark eyes glint with a hint of mischief. “Maybe you should. Ever consider them?”

Python stares at her and stops. His eyes rove along the soft curves of her jaw, along the arch of her brow and to the edge of her hair that brushes against her chin. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?”

He gives her another once over. Slowly, he holds out his hand. “Name’s Python. I watch the village at night.”

The woman smiles and shakes his hand. “I’m Silque. I’m a friend of the wolves.”

[himeryuukinka]

[ LFRP ] Ane - ( Balmung, Crystal DC )

❝ there is a muchness about you. I wonder... what I must do to have such muchness in myself..? ❞

🔓-- A lock icon denotes the presence of an additional something significant to be discovered only via roleplay. The more locks there are, the harder it will be to learn! Build a relationship with her to discover these secrets she keeps to herself. 

This LFRP post is specifically for her geomancer verse. Check over here for access to the LFRP post for her canon verse. I can play both/either on Balmung/Crystal as necessary!

❀ General Information ––– -

Name: “Ane.” 🔓 🔓 🔓 Epithet: Of the Weeping Waters. Gender: Cisgender female. Age: 28. Race: Au Ra (Raen.) Birthplace: Yama, Othard. 🔓 Current Residence: The Itomori Shrine, Doma. Relationship Status: Single. Sexual Orientation: Demisexual. Occupation: Yaman geomancer.

❀ Physical Appearance ––– -

Hair: Incredibly long. Straightened with a hot metal comb. Typically worn loose with some hair elegantly looped and bound just above her shoulders, framing her face. Seldom changes style. Looks to be all warm black. 🔓🔓 Eyes: Warm grey. Clouded by cataracts. Somber. Height: 4 fm 8 im. Distinguishing Marks: Rounded, soft scales reminiscent of a koi’s. Geomantic circles tattoo’d on her palms, the bottoms of her feet, and upper back. 🔓 🔓 🔓 Common Accessories: Ornately patterned silver bands in the front two strands of her hair. Brass bangles around her wrists and ankles decorated with suzu bells that remain curiously silent even when shaken. 🔓 

❀ Personality & Tidbits ––– -

A solemn young geomancer hailing from the seaside village of Yama. Her sad and serious air lend her presence a degree of mystery, and her lifelong practice of tempering her emotions makes it harder still to know how she actually feels. Having dedicated all her years to her people’s form of geomancy, Ane thinks herself ill-suited for anything else, and so her entire sense of identity has become tangled up in the magicks that she wields. She believes that she exists for the sole purpose of using geomancy to help the people around her, leading the young woman to quickly throw herself headlong into danger without a moment’s hesitation so long as it is for the sake of someone else. 

Talents: Yaman geomancy. Weaknesses: Physical/close quarters combat. Unable to use offensive magicks entirely. Kindness directed at her. Virtues: Dutiful. Genuine. Tender-hearted. Gentle. Curious. Thoughtful. Meticulous. Flaws: Naive. Perfectionist. Reckless. Overextending. Emotionally clumsy. Silently self-destructive. Has difficulty detecting sarcasm and understanding certain idioms and forms of humor. Spiritual Views: Reverence for the Dawn Father. Respect and recognition for the kami. Hobbies: Cooking, though really only skilled in Far Eastern cuisines. Ikebana. Tending to the shrine’s grounds. Fears: Isolation. Being forgotten. Dying before she can train new geomancers. Temperament: Melancholic. Alignment: Neutral Good.

❀ Yaman Geomancy ––– - 🔓/🔓🔓

I thought this topic could use its own brief section as her clan’s form of geomancy is not the same as the geomancy seen widespread in the Far East, as well as having some very specific elements tailored to her personal use of it. Those characters who are well-learned geomancers have the potential to recognize her as specifically from Yama so long as we discuss it ahead of time, and those who are familiar with geomancy or nature-based magicks may be able to reason out what she uses but not where she is from -- or why her geomancy differs from the more common forms. As with everything, I am happy and willing to discuss IC arcane knowledge, but do please run it by me ahead of time. Her clan was very secretive concerning its branch of geomancy, and while not at all closed to visits from the outside world, this art is absolutely not common knowledge! Please take this information as OOC reference for how this magic works rather than IC knowledge! Thank you!

Magic Family: Geomancy. Tools: Sacred paper talismans. Arcane ink carried in blessed brass pots. Brushes. A single heavy, enchanted bell inspired by bianzhong. Rounded stones of various sizes and weights. Strengths: Magic cancelling through elemental balancing. Barriers. Weaknesses: No way to counter physical weapons or unarmed physical strikes. Lengthy barrier preparation. Entirely a supportive and defensive art. General Overview: An ancient branch of geomancy thought dead by many. Rather than drawing only from the elements of wind, water, and earth, Yaman geomancy draws also from fire. It has never been intended as an offensive art and cannot be conjured as a weapon in battle. Instead, it revolves entirely around elemental balancing -- aether of one element is met with an equal force and amount of its opposing element, effectively cancelling out harmful magicks entirely. A delicate art with a lot of room for error, it requires years upon years of practice to master as it requires a great deal of concentration; those sensitive to aether may display a natural gift for it, as they can more easily sense how much oomph to give a particular counterspell. Failing to meet an elemental force with a sufficient counterforce can result in the spell connecting without real issue (too little) or wounding the geomancer in the process with an unstable aetheric burst (too much.) Though, like its Doman and Hingan counterparts, Yaman geomancy still relies heavily on comparable channeling methods -- that is, the combined use of an enchanted bell and glyphs to summon a specific element or combination of elements. It is more reliant on physical totems, though, and so Yaman geomancers would carry paper talismans upon which to write what they required in combat. Ane’s Geomancy: Where hers differs is how she channels it, but I prefer to keep the specific details for roleplay discovery! 🔓🔓

❀ Traits ––– -

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious / Spirited

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

❀ Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit: Never. Drugs: No. Alcohol: Very rarely. Surprisingly good at holding her liquor.

❀ Hooks ––– -

Region-specific connections. Asterisks (*) for options open only through discussion with me beforehand.

❀ The Village of Yama* - The once-proud seat to an ancient form of geomancy now all but lost to the world in the wake of its destruction at the hands of the Empire. Villagers who Ane may have known prior to the deaths of most everyone on the Shore of the Blue Lily are a welcome connection. There is potential for other survivors apart from Ane and the small group of children she managed to save, though know that all other geomancers perished in the attack, whether by their own lack of experience or their remaining behind to cover the retreat of those who tried to escape, and so any Yaman geomancer characters would be strictly past connections only. 🔓 ❀ Doma, a Wartorn Nation - Doma is the nation that most often saw secret services rendered by Yama’s geomancers, and Ane continues to honor that as the village’s sole arcane successor. She spent much of her formative years traveling the length and breadth of Yanxia to better understand its people and their plight with the Empire, and so there is plenty of opportunity for Doman characters to either recognize her personally (had they met while they were both younger) or to have a suspicion about her duty as a geomancer. Doman characters have lots of avenues open to them, considering she has lived among them since the ruination of Yama!  ❀ The Island Nation of Hingashi - Similar to Doma, Ane sometimes travels to Kugane when necessary. While not a place she frequents, the potential is there -- but do not be surprised if she initially regards Hingan geomancers with distance and dislike. She does not take kindly to charlatans using her beloved art to take advantage of the desperate, and there’s no shortage of such people in the port city to fuel her suspicions.

General roleplay connections. Asterisks (*) for options open only through discussion with me beforehand.

❀ A Hidden World of Geomancy* - Other geomancers, particularly those native to the continent of Othard, would likely have intimate knowledge of Yama and its people, and Ane would be more likely to trust them implicitly with certain facts than with those outside this arcane circle. I like to think of geomancy as having something like a support and information network unique to its practitioners; geomancer connections have the potential to know things about Ane that others would not! 🔓 ❀ Those looking for stationary arcane wards. - Not too unlike the magicks employed by the scholars of Nym, Yaman geomancy involves the enchantment and careful placement of keystones around a structure or area to shield it from attack or approach. If your character is in need of long-term wards for their home or business, Ane will oblige. ❀ Those seeking someone to accompany them with mobile wards. - Far trickier and taxing to employ than stationary wards but certainly not impossible. Ane wishes to help as many people as possible, and so if you’ve a character looking for some extra protection on an adventure or dangerous foray into the unknown, she’s not one to turn down a request for aid. ❀ Those in need of elemental protection. - Perhaps Ane’s greatest skill. She’s more than willing to help keep people safe by way of her clan’s geomancy; those venturing forth into an intensely aspected dungeon or region could certainly benefit from her magicks! ❀ Generally, those looking to fight for those too weak or beaten down to fight for themselves. - Often branded as a goody-goody by her guardian, Ane is quick to help those in need -- and often without a thought for the effect it could have on her. She will mesh easily with characters of similar values and morality and struggle with those who do not. But that being said... ❀ Enemies and rivals who might challenge her beliefs or give her trouble are absolutely welcome. - Conflict has excellent potential to build characterization, and I am all about that! So if you play a more evil or chaotic-aligned character, please don’t be be afraid to come push her buttons. ❀ And of course, friendships. - I’m always down for great platonic relationships, especially those that grow into familial affection. ❀ Thought of something not listed here? - Drop me a line so we can talk about it! While typically centered in the Far East, I already know of ways and reasons she would be in Eorzea -- so if your character does not frequent any of the places she spends most of her time, we can easily fix that!

❀ OOC Information ––– -

Genres: I am not particularly genre picky; I gravitate most towards those scenarios that may result in interesting, long-term character development -- and hopefully for both/all parties! I am a sucker for angst with purpose, though I do also love fluff and slice of life scenarios. So long as the scene doesn’t run out of steam or feel strained/stressed, I am a happy bean. Playstyle: I am... not very skilled when it comes to in-game roleplay. I prefer to connect one on one or in very small groups (no more than five people) so I can put my all into making certain my replies are timely, tidy, and... well, good. I prefer to write on something like tumblr or Discord, but I can do my best to make in-game work! Length: I’m someone who leans most towards a paragraph at the absolute minimum, but I can produce pages if we’re roleplaying on tumblr or Discord. Server: Balmung for roleplay/visiting with in-game friends, though my PvE main is over on Ultros. Both characters are available under the name Ane Borel. Timezone: CST. Availability: In-game: most of the time, so long as you give me a ping and ask if I can hop on! Discord: Much of the same! Please do be aware, though, that this is subject to change as I’m interviewing for some jobs and my schedule won’t be so free in the future. I’ll update this post when necessary. Contact Information: Obviously you can contact me here! This is a sideblog to my main over at @sunlitpeony, where you can also message me, and then I can give my Discord out upon request/interest.

{ banner art by: the-xaotician }

[badlvckhardy]

the dust has settled, thanos is gone. but look, in the distance, isn’t that THE BLACK CAT? otherwise known as FELICIA HARDY. they are TWENTY SIX years old, and go by SHE/HER. you will know them by WHITE HAIR + CUNNING DETERMINATION. could they have been saved?

THE BASICS

NAME/NICKNAMES: felicia hardy

ALIAS: black cat

AGE: twenty six

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: she/her

AFFILIATION: solo

FACECLAIM: alycia debnam-carey

THE DETAILS

FAMILY: walter hardy ( father, deceased ), lydia hardy ( mother )

THREE FAVORITE THINGS: thrill, diamonds, success

EDUCATION: college graduate ( arts major )

SKILLS: trained by various experts in burglary, gymnastics, judo, karate, electronics and security systems

WEAPONS:

black cat's costume: the costume she currently uses was designed by the tinkerer, created using leather material, and is designed to increase many of her natural physical attributes far beyond normal human levels by means of micro servos embedded into it. the suit allows for peak human strength beyond her own natural limits, superhuman speed, agility, as well as razor sharp and durable retractable claws.

equilibrium earrings: felicia wears earrings obtained by the tinkerer that interact with the balance centers of her brain to grant her enhanced agility and balance, increasing her natural bodily equilibrium and allowing her to accomplish feats beyond the capabilities of the finest human athlete.

electromagnetic contact lenses: felicia wears contact lenses obtained by the tinkerer that allows her to see in various ranges of the electromagnetic spectrum, such as infrared and ultraviolet light. when wearing these contacts, felicia's eyes appear to have blue irises as opposed to the green irises that felicia naturally possesses.

grappling hook: she has a miniature grappling hook device hidden in cuff of each glove, designed by her father, which enables her to swing from buildings. she can also use the cable from this device as a tightrope, wall scaling device, swing line, or as a weapon in combat.

ABILITIES:  

tychokinesis: the black cat is imbued with a genuine ability to cause "bad luck" by scientists working for the kingpin through a bargain made with him. this power allowed her to subliminally affect probability fields, which would cause improbable, though not impossible, events of "bad luck" to occur to enemies within her line of sight. she’s since gained more control over the ability and is able to influence who her bad luck is aimed at more accurately.

THE QUESTIONNAIRE

IN THE LAST YEAR SINCE THANOS WAS DEFEATED, WHAT HAS YOUR CHARACTER BEEN DOING?

felicia made an attempt to live a normal life, to clean up her act and obtain a job, wear sweatpants on weekends. it didn’t last long. her identity had never been a real secret, and being a known criminal made a normal life difficult. most of all, perhaps, felicia grew bored. so the black cat re-emerged, tricked spider-man into helping her with a difficult heist, faked her death, and all to re-establish herself in the criminal underground. she popped back up again to help peter a time or two, often shifting between a thief only looking out for herself, and lending bits of inconspicuous help

WHAT HAS YOUR CHARACTER LEARNED IN THE AFTERMATH OF THANOS, HIS SNAP AND EVENTUAL DEFEAT?

apart from figuring out the identity of spider-man while he was dusted away, felicia watched people struggle and mourn what they lost. it took some time for her to pinpoint what bothered her so much about this, but she came to realize to most basic point of it all – she had no one to lose. people searched for their loved ones, and there was no one she had to wonder about. she had to ask herself that if she had turned to dust, would anyone look for her? would anyone notice? it’s given her a great deal of discomfort, although she’d never admit it.

THE SAVAGE LANDS IS A NEW AND DANGEROUS PLACE, HOW IS YOUR CHARACTER COPING WITH THE NEW ENVIRONMENT?

felicia isn’t exactly coping well. it’s hot, it’s humid, she’s uncomfortable. it’s a new environment she needs to become adjusted to and learn how to best make do for herself. she hasn’t taken up shelter anywhere just yet, as she feels out of place around the superheroes and co.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

the daughter of world famous cat-burglar, walter hardy. he raised her to never settle for second best, and if you want something, you need to take it. nothing is ever just handed to you.

the first time she takes on the black cat title and outfit is when she broke her father out of jail. he was terminally ill, and she wanted him to spend his last moments at home. the prison break is also the first time she ran into the sweats-wearing teenage spider-man.

in college, she was attacked in the bathroom at a party, but ‘saved’ by a friend. they began to spend more time together and though felicia thought she could like him, he too-soon demanded that their relationship become physical. her protests were in vain.

she grew bitter and resentful, hurt and hating herself as a victim – so she swore to kill her rapist. she took lessons from the best in how to fight, everything she would need to execute a perfectly laid out plan. only in a stroke of bad luck, he died in drunk driving accident only days before she had the chance.

unsure what to do with herself from there, she decided to use her newly found skills to take over her father’s mantle and fully become the black cat. if it was up to her, felicia hardy would be entirely left behind.

[babywarg]

ironstrange multipart fic: Settling for a Miracle [2/?]

Chapter Summary: Stephen finds it difficult to readjust to life in New York. While at a crossroads, he has a heart-to-heart talk with a young neighbor named Peter.

Notes: OK, I've decided to make Stephen neighbors with May and Peter Parker. Since Spider-Man: Homecoming never said when Peter's Uncle Ben died (did he even die??), I'm placing it at 2014, two years before Civil War and when Tony Stark gave 14-year-old Peter his first functional Spidey suit.

And no, this 12-year-old Peter doesn't have his powers yet. But he has been living with his Aunt May and Uncle Ben for a while.

Originally on AO3.

***

Coming home to his new ("new" was a relative word - the building was old, with cracks and leaks in likely places) apartment in Queens continued to be a weird experience for Stephen.

He had to build up his personal finances from zero, and considering his credit history, it was understandable that reputable financial institutions were not jumping at the first chance to lend to him again.

But with the help of good friends like Christine Palmer and...Christine Palmer, he was able to find an affordable place not too far from his hospital in Manhattan, and easily settle in.

Still, it was weird. At first, he thought it was because he was used to luxury - his new flat was less than half the size of his old Midtown one, and with considerably fewer things.

Then he realized: it was because he had gotten used to living in the most austere conditions. The first few nights, he found the mattress Christine had helped him purchase too soft; he slept on the floor.

Two years away from urban life had changed him. Life in the city seemed too fast, too chaotic, too reliant on stuff.

It wasn't like sliding back into an old role at all, as he'd expected - it was more like trying to fit into a role that had become way too small.

Fortunately, he had amiable neighbors, at least. On his first night there, a woman living across the hall who introduced herself as May came by with pastries she'd baked herself (they were...not the best, but not inedible, and he wasn't exactly in a position to refuse free food), and he labeled her instantly in his mind as "the sad-eyed woman who laughed a lot."

During special occasions, May would come by again with baked goods, or else send her nephew Peter, a fast-talking, anxious preteen who never called her "Aunt" and seemed to mirror some of her sadness, but had trouble meeting Stephen's gaze.

Stephen recognized the preteen's avoidance - it was a mixture of grief and guilt. But guilt for what?

Peter was the one who'd casually let slip that May's husband Ben had died recently, from a bullet fired by a mugger at close range. But Stephen didn’t ask for more details. He kept his distance. He felt like there was much in his head that needed sorting out, before he could let other people in.

It would have been easier if adjusting to Stephen's new-old life was simply about relocating, and being around more stuff than he felt he actually needed.

But it wasn't.

 ***

 "Stephen." Christine laid a hand on his arm.

That was the only time he took his hands off the patient's chest.

For the first time, he began to hear the long, uninterrupted whine of the flatlined ECG. It was the only sound in the room, apart from his own heart pounding in his ears, his own ragged breathing.

He looked down at his scarred hands: so strong now, so steady - and so useless.

The other nurses and doctors in the room were staring expectantly at him. Stephen stepped back from the table, from the corpse he had been trying to revive. Without a word, he turned and left the operating theatre, leaving Christine to call time of death.

 ***

 He took too long washing his hands, and Christine caught up with him.

She started washing her hands in silence in the sink beside his.

He finished, and dried off, but realized he didn't have the strength to leave. He stood, waiting for her to acknowledge his weakness and speak first.

So she did.

"How is it that you've been a doctor," she softly began, "a surgeon, for this long, and you still haven't gotten used to losing people under your care?"

Christine spoke without judgment. This was what he had always treasured about her, though he was not always able to recognize it in a timely manner.

"I spent a good part of my career avoiding the slightest chance of losing people under my care," he answered back in a whisper. "Perfect record, remember?"

"Yes, your precious record," she sighed. It was not a pleasant memory, for either of them. "But Stephen...did that really cushion you from death? It was all around you, all the time. We talked about it in bed."

"And that’s one more item to add to the long list of things I haven't apologized for." Stephen muttered remorsefully. "There were times we talked when it was extremely likely that I wasn't...really...listening." He looked away from her. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well," she said, one corner of her lips raised. "I just thought that, even if you didn't listen to me or talked about it, it still got to you."

It should have, shouldn't it? Life and death came hand in hand for doctors. Death was inevitable, but it was still the enemy. That came with the oath; that was the deal.

"We fight death," Christine clarified for him. "We fight losing battles, sometimes. But what's important is, we fight." She faced him squarely, laid her hands lightly on his shoulders. "We're the last string keeping people bound to their lives on this earth. But sometimes, even we have to let go."

He shook his head. "You don't understand, Christine..."

He shouldn't have said that. As soon as he did, he wanted to take it back. He shut his eyes tight and swallowed the rest of his words:

I have power over death. I could save lives, if that was what I wanted. I don't have to let go of the lives on my table.

All I have to let go of is my hands.

Stephen was quite sure no other surgeon had this much on their conscience. It was bad enough for some surgeons to deal with run-of-the-mill messiah complexes, but his own complex just had to have that little something extra.

But Christine didn't need to hear that.

No one did.

It was a bargain only he had to live with.

"What don't I understand, Stephen?" Christine asked.

Stephen had a few seconds to come up with an answer that would draw Christine away from the truth, while not being strictly untrue.

He came up with this:

"I left and came back a different man. I thought working in the ER would help me adjust to the changes. But I don't think I'm even a surgeon anymore. I...I don't know what I am."

Christine wrapped her arms around him. He let her. He would be lying to himself if he ever thought Christine's friendly affections were not helpful him in any way. They were. Always, and greatly.

She hugged him often - and if he was going to be honest with himself: each time she did, it flooded him with warmth that he didn't feel he deserved.

"Maybe you should step away," she suggested. "Just for a little while. Maybe two years was too little time. Maybe it wasn't enough that you got your hands back."

"But what do I do?" he asked her miserably, as he returned her embrace. "Where do I go? I can't go back to Kathmandu. I've done all I could do there."

That wasn't true. He'd left Kathmandu without having learned much. Perhaps, if he'd stayed longer in Kamar-Taj, he might have learned about more useful things - such as ways to see into the future. Into many possible futures - his own and others'.

But he'd already said his goodbyes, and going back was likely to give rise to more questions than answers.

Asking a wise, dear and loyal friend what to do was the next best recourse.

"You told me Tony Stark made you an offer," Christine said. "Don't you want to give it a shot?"

"Tony Stark makes many offers, to many people, in a single day," Stephen said acidly. "If I accept, what would that make me? A notch in his bedpost?"

Even as he said it, Stephen noted how petty it made him sound. The knee-jerk egotism turned his stomach.

"Don't be crass," Christine sniffed. "Stephen, listen...if what he's offering ends up being what you need...what's wrong with taking it?"

Hearing it from her made a difference. She was unfailingly practical when the situation warranted it.

"It's not about not being special at all," Christine clarified, "it's about being the only one qualified to do the work. If I heard you right, Stark said that much, and I think you should give that some weight."

The words resonated with Stephen. There had been a time when he cherished the knowledge that he was the only one in the world with a brain and hands like his - in fact, it had been the sole foundation of his self-worth.

He didn't like thinking of himself as a hero, but thinking of himself as an expert without peer?

That was familiar.

"And if you really don't want to work with Tony Stark," Christine ventured, "you could always teach?"

Stephen grunted.

"Me, with young people?" he scoffed. "It's not enough that I can't save lives, I have to ruin them, too?"

A small chuckle escaped Christine. She kissed him on the cheek.

"How would you know you ruin lives?" she challenged him. "Have you actually tried?"

 ***

 That night, Stephen had energy to spare, so he took the stairs to the seventh floor, where his apartment was.

He came across young Peter Parker at the stairwell.

The brown-haired boy wasn't exactly in the way. He was sitting on the steps and leaning against the wall, looking haunted and tired. He cast a brief, blank gaze toward Stephen, then went back to sulking about something.

Stephen could have walked past him. He'd never really been the kind to stop and ask what was wrong. If the child had had a physical injury, then sure, he could've done something.

None of his training, in medical school or in Kamar-Taj, covered dealing with a situation like this.

He really should have kept on walking.

But he didn't.

"Peter?" He stopped at the landing, where he stood almost at eye level with the child. "What are you doing down here? Is anything wrong?"

Peter still wouldn't look him in the eye.

"Hey, Dr. Strange," he greeted weakly. He quickly wiped his face with his hands, as if that would make him stop looking so worn-out instantly. "Nothing's wrong. I just can’t sleep, so I stepped out for a bit of fresh air. It's nice and cool out here."

It was cool, but it was also downright chilly. Not exactly the healthiest time for delicate-looking young people to be out. Not to mention, a closed stairwell wasn't exactly the best place to get "fresh air."

"It's late. Won't May get worried?"

"Oh," Peter mumbled, "I snuck out. Please don't tell her you saw me. I'll be back upstairs soon, I promise."

Stephen could have left it at that. But he didn't do that, either.

He quietly sat beside the boy, depositing the paper bag of groceries he was carrying onto his lap. He rummaged around in it for ready-made food that they could share.

It didn't take long for him to find one. "Sandwich?"

It was a good thing he usually bought two sandwiches in the evening, when he caught the deli still open and pricing its breads half-off - one was for eating at breakfast. But this was a special case, and he didn't spare a moment to mourn not having anything ready to eat in the morning.

Peter hesitated, but took what was being offered.

"Thanks, doc. Is this number five, from across the street?"

"Yep. Got 'em just before closing."

"My Uncle Ben loves these." Peter caught himself. "...Loved these. I mean."

There was a long pause as Peter collected himself. When he finally took a bite of the sandwich in his hands, it seemed to Stephen that he was just doing it to be polite.

"You must miss him," Stephen remarked.

Peter sighed around the mouthful of bread he was slowly chewing.

"Not as much as May does."

"Still." Stephen prepared to take a bite out of his own sandwich. He didn't want to let the boy eat alone. "May isn't the only one dealing with his loss."

Peter didn't answer this. But when he opened his mouth again to speak, he talked about how much his uncle liked the deli across the street, and how he liked his sandwiches - with pickles. Lots of pickles.

Stephen answered that he wasn't a big fan of pickles, but he did like it when sandwiches were squished as flat as they could go.

That made Peter smile. "You too, huh?"

That smile seemed to have opened the floodgates. Peter talked about food, about his aunt's cooking, how his uncle always prepared their meals and made sure there was something in the fridge for Peter, a "growing boy," to eat as soon as he got home from school...

Somehow all the talking led to his parents - how Peter barely remembered them, and how Ben and May stood for the only parents he ever really knew. And how he was afraid he didn't have the strength his aunt needed, now that his uncle was gone, and all they had to rely on was each other.

He never told his uncle Ben he loved him. They just didn’t have that kind of relationship, you know. May says it to both of them all the time, and they both get to say it back to her easily, it’s just...

Suddenly, Stephen understood the guilt he’d seen on Peter’s face the first time they met.

There was so much he hadn’t said.

Peter wanted to cry. Stephen knew that from the way the boy’s voice shook, the way he trembled sometimes. But there was a lot of pride in Peter Parker, a sort of pride Stephen recognized in himself.

He needed to prove to others that he was strong and grown-up. That he could carry the grief and the memories and the responsibilities he was suddenly saddled with.

Stephen remembered the deaths he himself had lived through, how he had never cried at any of them. And he wasn't about to force Peter to cry, even if perhaps that was what the boy needed.

He just let Peter talk until he had nothing left to say - and that turned out to be long after both their sandwiches were gone.

That was enough for them. It had to be.

And when he was all talked out, Peter heaved a long sigh, sat up, and mustered another smile.

"Thanks for sitting out here with me, Dr. Strange," he said quietly. "Means a lot, you know?"

"Of course, Peter," he answered. "Just remember, if you or your aunt need anything, I'm right across the hall."

...Why did he say that?

So much for keeping his distance.

As soon as he did, he wanted to regret it.

He imagined Peter and/or May knocking on his door at odd hours of the night, with some excuse or another to hang with him.

But he found, to his surprise, that he didn't regret it as much as he did. Neither did he fear the prospect of receiving them at odd hours.

"That means a lot, too," Peter said. He looked like he was about to say more, but he clamped his lips shut and got to his feet.

Stephen walked the boy back to his flat, where he soundlessly let himself in. With a final word for Peter to get a good night's sleep, Stephen turned and walked back to his own apartment.

He put away his groceries, washed up and went to bed, knowing what he needed to do first thing in the morning.

 ***

 "Mister Stark."

"Doctor Strange," said the man on the other end of the line. "I thought I asked you to call me 'Tony.' I'm going to start calling you 'Stephen' after this, because you told me to do so and unlike some people, I know how to follow instructions."

Stephen had to smile at this.

"You'll need to understand that following instructions isn't my forte," he warned. "If you don't know that yet, it's going to be a sore point for us, going forward."

"Does that mean you're on board?"

Stephen paused. "I’ll no longer be on call at my hospital, but I won't be able to report to you seven days a week. I don’t plan to completely let go of my practice."

"Not a problem," Tony Stark assured him. "It’ll probably just take us longer than we expected to finish, but we'll go by your timetable."

Tony was really good at making Stephen feel like he was in control of the operation he was being asked to lead. Stephen was smart enough to know that this was probably not the case, but he also had to admit: he appreciated the ego-stroking.

"You don't have to worry about transportation, either. The lab is actually in Midtown, near your hospital. We can even set you up with a new place around there, if you like."

Stephen blinked.

"I'm sorry - a new place?"

"One more suited to an expert of your stature. Rent-free, of course." Tony said all this with ease, as if it had all been taken care of already - primped and gift-wrapped. All Stephen had to do was accept it. "You'll be central to the project, doc, and I want you to feel like it. No more one-bedroom on the seventh floor of a 20-year-old building in Queens. Only the best for the best."

Stephen didn’t bother asking how Tony knew where he lived. Tony, with his unlimited corporate resources, probably even knew all about Stephen’s money woes - but he decided not to focus on that.

He focused instead on the offer; it was a hell of a lure. Better living conditions - rent-free, no less - might bring him closer to the person he used to be, before leaving for Kamar-Taj. Perhaps it would even help him settle into old patterns.

However, that also meant being beholden to Tony Stark and his handouts. It would be restricting his freedom - trapping himself in material things all over again.

"I'll have to pass," he easily said. "It's a very generous offer, Tony. But I'm fine where I am."

He could hear the shrug on the other end of the line. "Suit yourself. All that matters to me, Stephen, is that you're comfortable while failing to follow instructions. Without you, the project can’t even leave the ground."

The only one qualified to do the work, Christine had said. Maybe this was his place in the world, after all.

"No need to worry about my comfort, Tony." It was Stephen's turn to sound reassuring in this transaction. "Just give me the freedom to do my thing. You're in good hands."

[fear-chaos]

Death of Chaos

Orion sat on his couch, reading a love novel while he rested. Today had been a rather boring day for the God of Order, although he didn't seem too bothered by it. He preferred it this way, for things to go by smoothly. The less problems he had to deal with the better, he was not a fan for useless conflict. Although that didn't mean he wasn't good at causing a ruckus when he had to, because he had in the past. As he turned the page, one of the lines stuck out to him and it made him smile. It reminded him of his 'twin', Khorne.

'Love is a chaotic maelstrom of emotions that confuses anyone who deals with it. Love is commonly referred to as the most chaotic emotion that dwells within the heart.'

Between the two of them, The God of Chaos was always the more emotional between the two. He was the 'heart' while Orion was the 'mind' so to speak. Khorne was a mystery all his own, even to his brother who has known him all their life.

"Even after all this time he has never changed. Always such a...dork."

He laughs a little, going to stand up and head to the kitchen for a snack. Sifting through his fridge for something to eat, he decided on a pizza he ordered from last night. Naturally he had put the slices on a plate before warming it up. Cold pizza was horrible. Thirty seconds was what he set the microwave to and he started reading his book again. As the time ticked down, he let the beeping of the microwave influence his humming.

"Hmmm...I might suggest this book to Uncle Phobs, he is a diehard romantic."

Suddenly he felt a stabbing pain in his chest and his head started pounding like a violent drum. The pain was so intense that it drove him to his knees and he screamed out in pure anguish. One of his hands gripped onto his chest as the pain began escalating. The feeling in his head started to become more aggressive, like a fight for his own mind was taking place.

'I know this feeling! This ungodly pain, why....why am I feeling it?!'

That lone thought seemed to be the only one that managed to get through all of the pounding that was taking place in his skull. It felt as if he was being ripped in half, his very being was being torn apart. The last thing Orion thought of before passing out from the pain was Khorne.

A few hours earlier

Khorne shoved his hands in his hands as he stood in the flowery field of Haven, his home. Or at least it was before he left with Orion and he vowed to never return. All he wanted to do was burn the entire realm and send it into despair and chaos. That thought put a smile on his face, though soon it faded as he heard a voice.

"What's this? Little Khorne is on time for once. I never thought I would see the day."

Dehlila, The Goddess of Darkness chuckled a little as she stepped through a portal. The God of Chaos felt his right eye throb at the appearance of his grandmother.

"I would say its good to see you too, but considering only one of my eyes actually function...thanks for hexing it."

Khorne rolled his eyes, something he did often when he was annoyed.

"C'mon Cornelius, you still have attitude problems. You need to work on that."

His cousin, Vort, chimed as he stepped from behind Dehlila.

"Call me that again and I will stuff one of those precious daggers down your throat."

He threaded the God of Toxins, glaring at him. Vort held up his hands, the silver band on his wrist shaking in the process.

"I was just teasing you a little relax..."

Vort chuckled, his ponytail moving as he started walking.

Before Khorne could comment a portal opened up, and his hands balled into fists once he saw the individuals who exited it. The first was Heimen, God of Light. His grandfather. The next was Pendris, God of Water. His uncle. And the last one...his mother. Ophelia, Godless of Magic.

Heimen acknowledged his nephew and wife with a nod of his head, before turning his attention towards Khorne.

"I hope this day finds you well, Khorne."

Khorne had to force himself to speak, the rage inside of him building. And not just his own. These were the ones of split Balance apart, at least some of them.

"It was until I accepted this summons. You said that it was important, I'd like to know what is so important you would track me down."

It was his mother who responded to him, making him gaze at her.

"We...we wanted to invite you and your brother back. This family has been lacking since you two left. I miss you, both of you."

That had certainly thrown him for a loop, a real hard loop. The last thing he had expected to hear was that they wanted the twins back. Ophelia had seemed genuine, she sounded like she really wanted them back. And...he believed her. For all of three whole seconds before he decided to test the offer.

"Does this little offer of yours extend to Uncle Phobs?"

His question got the reactions he more or less expected to get. Pendris went as pale as a sheet, Vort went stiff, holding his arm. Dehlila seemed to growl a little, a hand going to her chest. Ophelia went wide eyed, not sure how to answer. Heimen however simply looked angry, something flickering in his eyes that the God of Chaos could not identify.

"The offer does not extend to that...that abomination. His very being sows discord and pandemonium, his existence is a mistake that should of been corrected eons ago."

"I see...I expected as much."

Khorne hadn't noticed that he had been gripping his palms hard enough to cut the skin. A thin trail of blood dripped down his palm.

"Let me answer your little offer, fuck no. If I had to choose between being a part of this family or death then I will go find Desmond right now."

He took in their reactions before deciding that he had enough. Then he started walking to go leave.

"If you won't say yes then we can just go get Orion."

Vort's words made him pause in his stride.

"You would do what? I couldn't hear you."

"I said we could get your submissive other half. Between the two of you, he is a lot easier to coax. He is a spineless piece of tra-"

The words he was about to speak were lost as Khorne's scythe was through his chest, piercing his soul.

"I still can't hear you."

Before any of the other Gods could stop him, Khorne yanked his weapon upwards and split Vort in half from the chest up. Killing him. The blade of the scythe glistened with the golden blood that ran in the veins of its latest victim. That was when the mayhem started...

A few hours later

The God of Chaos sat down, panting heavily as he tried to recover from his pain. His entire body aches, at least what was left of it. He'd lost both an arm and a leg, the blood that pooled underneath him was a testament. A few new scars would be added to his body as a result. Although...something was wrong. The pain in his chest was starting to building, he felt his soul burn violently. His mind raced as he tried to figure out the cause, before he reached one conclusion: Vort. His soul must of been poisoned, or enchanted to fuck up the one who killed him.

"Huh...I think I am dying..dammit. Am I wrong, Des?"

Khorne looked up, seeing his cousin, Desmond. The God of Death had tears in his eyes but, they would not be shed. Instead he nodded at his dying cousin.

"Yes..."

The situation was important enough that Desmond was going to speak, something he didn't do often. It got him mistaken as a mute a lot.

"I see...oh well."

Khorne shook his head before vomiting a large amount of blood, feeling his head begin to swim.

"Can...Can I get one of your famous last requests?"

He looked at Desmond who had started to approach him, taking a seat next to his cousin.

"Of course."

Desmond calmly strokes Khorne's hair, being gentle as he tried to ease him. He had seen Khorne's death long ago, with the help of Chronos, their uncle. There was nothing to do to stop the poison that had infected the God of Chaos' soul.

Khorne stayed silent for a moment before leaning his head on Desmond's shoulder.

"Lend me one of those little cards you use to talk. A couple of them. I need to leave a few messages..."

The God of Death was a little surprised but he pulled out two of his cards. They were black, with silver writing on them. One of the functions was that they could turn thoughts into voice messages for the desired person. That was the function Khorne would use.

"Thank you.."

Weakly he took the cards from his cousin and held them with as much strength as possibly. Then he thought of Phobia.

'Hey Uncle Phobs...I've uh..got some bad news. And a little good news. Good news is that Uncle Pendris and Vort are both dead. You could say they are...sleeping with the fishes. Get it? Yeah, you'll get it. Hehe...umm..the bad news is that I uh..won't be coming over anymore. Ever, by the time this card gets to you then Desmond would of done his job. I went and got myself killed. I'm sorry...I am so sorry that I went and died. I just wanted to say that I love you and that you were by far the best family to come from those pieces of shit. With love...your nephew Cornelius.'

Khorne blinked back tears as he took a few slow shuddering breaths to help clear his head the best he could. Then, he thought of Orion.

'Hey Oreo! I wanted to tell you that I love you. Weird right? I never drop the L word with you and I realized that...I never said it that much when I should of. I love you Orion, you're the best twin and or other half of my soul that I could of gotten stuck with. I'll never forget when I put that black streak in your hair because I claimed it made you more badass looking. I wasn't wrong. Anyway...I think I should stop beating around the bush. I ummm...I am dying. By the time you get this I will be dead. Man that's depressing as fuck. I'm sorry. I am so so sorry that I went and got myself killed. I left you alone, some brother I am right? I just couldn't stop myself. Vort started talking about you and I couldn't stop myself from just going at him. You know I have always been impulsive. I'm sorry...again. I love you, I always have and I always will. Your dork of a twin, Cornelius.'

Once he finished the second message he let the tears fall, the pain in his chest forgotten by the grief that overwhelmed him. It hurt to know that he wouldn't be able to go bother his brother or go chill with his uncle. He wouldn't be able to laugh with them.

The entire time Desmond waited patiently, hating himself and hating everything. Countless times he had reaped his friends, and even some family. It was knowing why Khorne died that really made him cry. He died defending his brother's name. Desmond would of done the same thing if it had Cyprus who had been badmouthed. Immediately.

"Khorne...its time."

His tone was calm and collected, practiced. Although the shaking that accompanied his tone was not missed by Khorne. The God of Chaos sighed before letting his mind drift to his brother, the pair of them laughing as they goofed off. And that was the last thing he thought of as everything went black and he stopped feeling.

(Yeah...this was a little project I had started doing these past few weeks. It's a big step for me. I know it's sad since I am writing about the death of one of my little bean babies, but I am a sadist.)

[olivamilburn182-blog]

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[keepyourpantsongohan]

I’ve been really possessed of the idea of a post-Kaguya no chakra AU lately, so here’s an unnecessarily long ramble about what it might look like:

Since Kaguya is the originator of chakra in the Naruto universe, sealing her and Zetsu also subsequently affects the ability of all ninja to mould chakra. Kaguya wanted to take all chakra back, and inadvertently, her sealing does just that. 

Perhaps the continued existence of Black Zetsu and the God Tree in the world was the only reason ninja could combine energies in the first place - a spiritual link between humanity and chakra.

This has a lot of immediate fallout. For one thing, Sasuke has no reason to fight Naruto any longer. If no one is able to use chakra, then Sasuke no longer has enough power to tilt the axis of the world, and the world itself has already tipped - the shinobi system he wanted to challenge is crumbling at its foundation.

So Team 7 doesn’t fight. Perhaps without that fight, Sasuke would be unable to have an epiphany about relying on others, but the outcome remains the same: Sasuke doesn’t attack his comrades.

It’s possible that, as jinchuuriki, Bee and Naruto would be exempt from this circumstance. But even then, they’d only have access to the power in a transformed state, where their bijuu can act as the link between them and chakra. On the day-to-day, they’re the same as the others around them. It’s likely that every other shinobi loses their chakra-based techniques entirely. Even doujutsu would require infusing chakra into the eyes, so regardless of an eye’s appearance, there are no longer any accompanying abilities.

Without moulding chakra, there’s no medical ninjutsu, so even in the days that follow, more people are lost as they succumb to their wounds. There are plenty that do survive though, albeit much weaker than they would’ve been if they could be healed. 

Each shinobi is eager to return home, even the wake of all the confusion. There’s some uncertainty about leadership now. The Kage are most often chosen by their power. They no longer have access to their bloodline limits. Onoki and Tsunade, whose bodies have suffered the most, immediately feel its effects. (A reasonable explanation for why Tsunade would so hastily abandon her post.)

The villages still need leaders, so Kakashi still ends up becoming the Rokudaime Hokage. But for the first time, his strength is irrelevant - he’s chosen entirely because he has the trust of the village (particularly Tsunade) and a sharp mind. Konoha needs someone to lead them into a new age.

The daimyo are greatly concerned. Their military strength has relied almost entirely on the ability to infuse chakra. One thing agreed by both Kage and daimyo is that, for the sake of preventing further calamity, Bee and Naruto will be the last jinchuuriki.

They rebuild. By hand, this time, since Yamato’s mokuton is gone. It’s a slow and arduous process. They’ve organized themselves around being shinobi for so long, it’s hard to figure out where they’ll go from here. The academy is a defunct structure. Many people whose jobs relied on their abilities lack a clear source of income.

Kakashi appeals to the daimyo for this. He secures enough funding to open several new research facilities, not focused on ninja techniques, but on other things. Technological advancement. Agricultural production. Sustainable energy sources. Medicine.

It’s not just the sciences which advance. Now that the shinobi system has fallen apart, there’s a great interest in examining its history in detail. The other nations are less reluctant to share intel, since they’ve fought a war together, and all the secrecy behind their techniques is irrelevant now. So in Konoha, and every other village, historians gather, creating previously unexamined and wildly conflicting accounts of the world from chakra’s beginning to end. 

There’s an interest in opening up a university, in the years that follow, so that the knowledge produced by these fields isn’t available to researchers alone. The money once used to maintain their supply of weapons is re-purposed, and there’s an opportunity for all citizens to be educated for free. The curriculum changes each year as new advances are made. There’s greater demand for teachers, because many people have wanted to spend more time learning, but never had a place to do so. There are all new kinds of cultural and technological production driving their economy now.

Clans become far less important, and far less politicized. There’s no point in worrying about keeping secrets if you no longer have a family technique. The Hyuga, especially, are forced to change. Even if the war hadn’t changed their perspective, there is little point in concerning themselves so heavily with main and branch families if they can no longer use the Byakugan.

Sakura focuses her energies on learning new medical techniques that don’t require chakra. She pulls research from any recorded history she can find about early medicine used when chakra wasn’t so common. She is at the forefront of her field, and Tsunade and Kakashi lend their support to her as she restructures the hospital.

Sasuke’s situation is unclear, for a while. The military he defected from technically no longer exists. He killed an acting Hokage, but on the edge of a war, and one who’d been responsible for the deaths of countless Konoha citizens. He’d never actually attacked the Leaf, but he’d certainly harmed a lot of people. People don’t know whether to jail him or call him a hero for his actions in the war. He himself isn’t sure how he feels about Konoha. Team 7 helps. They advocate strongly for Sasuke, and continuously pester him while he’s on house arrest. He feels a bit like he did when he was 13. Not exactly bound to the village, but bound to his team at least. He even ends up becoming better acquainted with Sai and Yamato, because Sai is wary of him hurting Sakura and Naruto, and Yamato will sometimes accompany the others on their visits.

When he’s pardoned again, he does still think about leaving. Sakura and Naruto tell him that he’s an idiot, and they physically hold onto him until he says he’ll think about staying, even when that takes a day and a half. “This hug is getting really sweaty,” he says, as they cling to him in his kitchen. “Don’t you have places to be?” They both shrug.

Kakashi offers him a job. He thinks part of the reason that Sasuke was so obsessed with vengeance is that he could never find any justice. So he asks Sasuke to think about what their new civil and criminal justice systems should look like. Less subjective to the whims of whichever Hokage or councilman is doling it out, and instead relying on due process. Systems where people like Danzo would be held accountable for their actions. And systems where people could arbitrate their problems, so that discrimination like that which spurred the Uchiha clan to coup could not happen. The appeal of being able to prevent another Itachi from occurring is too great, so Sasuke stays. 

Naruto’s a little lost in the wake of all this too. Most of his plans for the future had always assumed that the shinobi system would still be in place. He’s not sure he knows what to strive for anymore in this new world. Kakashi asks him to help Sasuke work on the justice system reforms. He thinks Naruto would be a moderating influence, and that their combined pessimism and optimism might just create something functional. When it comes to the subject of the laws and procedures that affect children, Naruto finds himself particularly driven. He thinks he’d like to ensure that no child would ever grow up as lonely as him or Sasuke again. So, with Kakashi’s guidance, he helps to draft procedures which protect the children of their village from abandonment, endangerment or abuse. 

Naruto doesn’t stop there. It’s one thing to put it in the law, but he’s always been more of a doer than a thinker, so he wants to create actual programs where children might have better resources available to them. A functional foster system. Social programs which allow for education and socialization even for children who haven’t found homes yet. Charities which specifically collect resources to make sure these kids are looked after, both physically and emotionally. He’s a force of change in a different way than he ever imagined.

There’s a recognition that the people who’ve been shinobi to date need different accommodations, and that job falls to Sai. Having grown up taught to separate himself from his emotions, he understands how hard it is in the aftermath to have to confront them. So with Sakura’s help, he becomes in charge of a counseling centre for veterans. He isn’t a counselor (he’s still got some healing to do, himself) but he administers the place so it functions effectively, and makes certain that anyone who needs a place to deal with their emotions has it.

Orochimaru would’ve been one of the first people held accountable to the new reforms on child protection, but as it is, it soon becomes irrelevant. Orochimaru’s body decays. The experiments he’s performed on his body cannot be sustained without the continuous moulding of chakra, and so he falls apart. They give his body to Otogakure, and one of his former subordinates buries him in an unmarked grave.

So, Yamato stays in the village too. He still feels guilty about what happened to him in the war, and is confused about who exactly he is without mokuton, but part of him is glad he can never be used as a weapon again. Even without his mokuton, he’s still the best at designing buildings in the village, so as the village not only rebuilds, but expands, he becomes the most sought-after architect in all of Konohagakure. Sometimes he’ll even receive requests from the other villages, but he always returns. He spends weeks building himself a home on the edge of the village, exactly to his liking, and with enough room to host all of the kids of Team 7, when they come by. He claims he lives alone, but Kakashi’s most often found there too, complaining that the Hokage residence is too stuffy for him to be comfortable. 

As in the days of Hashirama, the other villages follow suit with the changes of Konohagakure. This time, it is less about maintaining a balance of power and mostly just because the reforms are working. People are happier. Fewer people die. Children are cared for. And while their system isn’t perfect - they’re under a feudal lord, after all, and there are concerns about the future of their military - it’s better. And that’s the optimistic world we’re left with when Naruto finally becomes Hokage.