#but since that's not fact but catacomb legend

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

What do you think about the claims that Omashu could still parallel Zutara because

1. When they “Bonded”, they were in Ba Sing Se, whose motto is “There is no war in Ba Sing Se”.

2. Zuko wore “yellow” during the catacombs scene and it happened while they were in a cave with similar colored crystals.

3. Katara defeating Azula is somehow a better parallel to Oma’s rampage than Katara’s anger at Aang nearly dying.

4. Oma or shu was holding an Olive branch and Katara offered to heal Zuko’s scar.

5. Aang can’t be a reincarnation of Oma or shu because neither was mentioned to be the avatar whereas Katara and Zuko could be their reincarnations.

I've already explained how nonsensical this "Oma and Shu is about Zutara" is, but MAN, the points you brought up only made it look even stupider.

1 - Being FORCED to be in a place together to bond is very different from willingly meeting each other. Ba Sing Se DENYING there's a war going on is very different from two people having to meet in secret because the war is THE ONE THING everyone in both rival groups is talking about. The situations are not just different, they're complete opposites.

2 - Zuko was wearing Earth Kingdom clothes because he HAD to blend in to survive. He did for the entire season, it makes no sense to connect that to a legend HE NEVER EVEN HEARD OF. And obviously the cave of Ba Sing Se, an Earth Kingdom territory, is gonna have the same color pallete of Omashu's cave, since it is also EK, and this show is aimed at 6-year-olds. That's why we have things like everyone in the WATER tribe having BLUE eyes.

Also, he and Katara were in a cave with crytals - but Katara and Aang were ON THE ACTUAL CAVE OF OMA AND SHU, and had their first kiss there, which they both seemed to enjoy. If simply having a conversation in a cave counts as parallels to Oma and Shu, Zuko opening up about his personal struggles to Aang (whose soul wasn't even there) in the North Pole and the Kataang dance in the secret party also count.

3 - Like you pointed out, Katara AND Aang fighting Azula, who had not even attacked Zuko at that point, cannot mean her grief over him parallels Oma grief for Shu (especially since, again, Zuko was fine). Meanwhile Katara was five seconds away from going Koizilla mode after Azula KILLED AANG IN BATTLE, aka the same way Shu died.

4 - FINALLY, a halfway decent point! Yes, the Crossroads scene was absolutely about two enemies maybe seeing eye-to-eye for once and realizing they're not so different - that's a theme that is constantly repeated through all three seasons of Avatar, through many different characters and dynamics.

But that doesn't change the fact that empathy/compassion is not the same as "I'm in love with you", nor the fact that, unlike Shu, Zuko REJECTED the peace offering - funny how Zutarians always ignore that part, huh? Once again, the situation is not just different, it's the direct opposite.

5 - The Avatar is the only confirmed case of reincarnation in Avatar. It's very possible that there are more (and Momo was originally going to be Gyatso's reincarnation), but we cannot say any character other than Aang is a reincarnation of someone else because the show did not ever say that was even possible.

And even if it IS, that does not mean Katara and Zuko HAVE to be Oma and Shu. There were literally THOUSANDS of people on opposite sides of a war on that show, and like I said, they were not even the only two characters to have a moment in a cave AND Zuko never even heard of the legend. He is not connected to it at all, unlike Aang.

(And while history repeating itself IS a theme in Avatar, cicles being BROKEN is also important narratively, so Zuko rejecting Katara's peace offering in Crossroads shows that even if, against all odds, he WAS Shu, their romance won't repeat itself, at least in this life)

Also, there's a big difference between saying "Katara and Aang are Oma and Shu reincarnated" and "The writers used Oma and Shu's story to further Katara and Aang's plot."

So yeah, bad, terrible, awful "arguments" just to pretend the Kataang centered episode was secretly about Zutara all along. These people gotta learn to the L already.

[myhauntedsalem]

Highgate Cemetery is steeped in supernatural lore. Constructed out of need with six others in the early 1800s, with London’s population nearing a million and the death toll rising, there was no more room to bury the dead. This cemetery is one of the most famous in the world, with many notable historic figures, such as Karl Marx, buried there.

The architecture of the cemetery is truly unique. In the heart of the grounds is an eccentric structure called the Egyptian Avenue which consists of sixteen vaults, entered via a great arch. Each vault fits twelve coffins, purchased and used by individual families. This avenue leads to the Circle of Lebanon which was built in the same style consisting of thirty six vaults. A separate gothic-styled catacomb, named the Terrace Catacombs, has an additional fifty five vaults.

But what lures most people to the cemetery are the legends and myths that include ghosts, a vampire and other unexplained phenomena. Spirits coming out of the mausoleums, a glowing woman who roams the paths in between the graves, a man in a top hat, and misty floating beings that hang around the tombs are just some of the the spirits that inhabit the cemetery. Its the account of the “Highgate Vampire” that makes the site legendary.

The first report was in 1970, when a young man reported that he had seen a dark figure resembling a vampire in the cemetery. Since then, hundreds of claims of suspected vampires continued to be reported. Helping the belief along was the fact that dead foxes, with their throats torn open, kept turning up on the grounds. Aside from ghosts and a resident vampire, Highgate Cemetery is a hauntingly beautiful place to spend eternity.

[icryyoumercy]

okay but consider.

the librinauts we meet at any detail are 1) the one in the smoking room 2) the one at the blood theater 3) the coachman

they all move very little and rather stiffly, they all wear masks and armour that fully covers their bodies and faces

and the coachman's armour apparently has joints that are either stuck for some reason or too tight, either works, and thus finds himself entirely unable to move

the one at the smoking room is just... sitting and reading, not moving any more than absolutely necessary, and /not smoking/

the one at the blood theater, that's where this gets interesting. he's very quiet and thougthful, he speaks softly, is well educated, choses his words carefully and skillfully, and seems really well-read. he only ever moves in the breaks between acts, and mythenmetz mentions hearing both a ticking and a humming sound when the librinaut moves and/or speaks.

he also knows about the invisible theater, enough to hand mythenmetz what seems to be an invitation, so he must know maestro corodiak

given all that plus the books focus on puppeteering, i vote that (at least some of) the librinaut's armours aren't armours but puppets, like those robots from pacific rim, and also that they are operated by booklings

which would be by far the easiest way to give us back the shadowking and colophonius regenschein

[fakeikemen]

The "Cave of Two Lovers" foreshadows the Zutara interactions in "Crossroads of Destiny"

[And maybe after that too; (yeah this part will be purely based on speculation)]

(See also: A meta that everybody has already written but I haven't because I was living under a rock and watched Avatar very recently)

Like seriously, it is so obvious? I see people try to interpret "The Legend Of Oma and Shu" in so many other ways; like yeah, you're free to interpret it however you want but— most people try to make sense of it while thinking that the tale is just a random occurrence? But it's not.

And here's why:

(I'm so sorry, I tried to add the "keep reading" link here because this gets kinda long but it just won't work) (Also click on the pictures if you want better resolution).

The tale of Oma and Shu is about two lovers who belonged to villages that were at war against each other. To continue meeting each other, they learnt earthbending to create caves in the mountain that divides the two villages. But one day Shu didn't come to the caves. He'd died in the war. So Oma unleashed a terrifying display of her power. And then when people were willing to listen to her, she called off the war and strived for peace between both the villages. As a result the city of Omashu was created— as a monument in remembrance of their love.

So in comparison:

1. Two people belonging to the opposite sides of the war

(Other than the 100 year old war that has been going on, Zuko and Katara are involved in a very fundamental conflict: Capture the Avatar Vs. Protect the Avatar.)

2. With the same colour scheme:

3. Share intimate moments in a cave lit by green crystals:

A popular argument for this comparison is that; Oma and Shu had a positive impressions of each other when they first met. Unlike Zuko and Katara where Katara's first impression of Zuko was pretty negative because he invaded her village.

Zuko and Katara's first proper conversation happens in "Crossroads of Destiny" i.e.; the scene I'm talking about here. After this interaction that they have, I think it's safe to say that they did have positive impressions of each other. (Until Zuko made the wrong choice.)

Other than that, about the colour scheme being a coincidence: Here and here are posts by @marsreds about how the colours are definitely not a coincidence.

But seriously guys? Oma and Shu were the FIRST EARTHBENDERS and yet, instead of greens and yellows they were designed with RED and BLUE?!? (I'll take about Oma's green dress below.)

And on that note, why were Zuko and Katara the only ones who were thrown into the catacombs when everybody else was being held at the dungeons? The dungeons wouldn't have been easy to escape, neither for Zuko nor for Katara.

It's because Zuko and Katara were meant to share an intimate moment in a cave that was supposed to jog our visual memory to remind us of the caves built by Oma and Shu.

(Seriously though, I wasn't really paying attention during CoTL and thought that the Omashu legend was just put in to consume screen time, so I missed the red/blue thing. But then I watched CoD and saw the catacombs and I was like: "Isn't this like that cave made by the lovers?" And then I proceeded to have an oh shit moment because, I knew that Zutara was not canon so I never even considered the possibility of the narrative hinting at anything between them but then this happened. I mean, it's pretty darn obvious).

The colour of the crystals being the same in both caves is no coincidence either— if they just wanted two random caves with crystals, then they could've used a different colour because crystals of different colours exist:

Moving on,

The Visual Cues:

According to the colour coding Zuko = Oma (red) and Katara = Shu (blue).

So,

EXHIBIT A:

I feel like this one speaks for itself.

(I personally think that in this parallel Oma is in red because Katara at this point still sees Zuko as the face of the Fire Nation.)

EXHIBIT B:

This sequence of frames show Oma (dressed in green, like Zuko was in the catacombs) and Shu (dressed in his usual blue), standing on neutral territory and reaching out to each other and then being torn apart by the war.

Pretty much like:

The first time they are in each other's presence without the cause of their conflict (i.e. the Avatar), Zuko and Katara reach out to each other empathetically and attain bone deep understanding of each other within a matter of minutes. This whole encounter is in Ba Sing Se, which counts for the neutral territory because it hadn't been completely taken over by Fire Nation at that point.

And honestly? The raw vulnerability and intimacy of this scene and the high emotional energy of their powerful dynamic is just— wow. (I put off my binging spree for a whole day because I didn't have the heart to see Zutara not become canon after all of this.)

And soon after, Zuko and Katara face each other in battle, their tentative friendship torn apart, as they fight from their respective sides of the war.

EXHIBIT C:

Whenever Oma and Shu appear in the same frame during the visualization of the legend, Oma is always on the left half of the frame and Shu is on the right.

Similarly, throughout all their interactions in the Catacombs, whenever the frame exclusively includes Zuko and Katara, Zuko (like Oma) is on the left half of the frame and Katara (like Shu) is on the right.

The parallels (or foils rather):

#1

In CoTL, we see Song who is a healer (cures Iroh of his poisoning). She mentions that she hasn't seen her father since a Fire Nation raid took place in her village. Zuko empathises with her and says that he too hasn't seen his father in a long while. But then he refuses to say anything else about it.

Later Song tries to reach out to Zuko and tries to touch his scar— which Zuko prevents her from. She shows Zuko her own scars to show that she understood him.

And yet, Zuko doesn't open up to her.

After a while of life-changing and eye-opening experiences, in CoD, when Katara has her meltdown and cries while saying that her mother was snatched away from her by the Fire Nation; Zuko sees an opening to offer an olive branch and he takes it, he empathises with her and tells her that how his mother was snatched away by the Fire Nation as well.

Then Zuko opens up to Katara in a show of complete vulnerability. He openly talks about his scar and what he feels about it. In response, Katara offers to heal his scar and then Zuko lets her touch his scar.

It was nothing but a deliberate choice to make Song slightly parallel Katara (a healer, lost a parent because of the war) and then making Zuko not open up to her and not let her touch the scar, only for Katara to be the one he opened up to and allowed to touch the scar.

#2

After being trapped with Aang in the cave in CoTL and sharing an intimate moment with him, as soon as they find their way out, Katara runs straight ahead without looking back.

But after her time with Zuko, trapped in the Catacombs in CoD, while leaving she turns back to look at Zuko.

Judging by the amount of time the animation puts into showing us Aang's disappointment at Katara running off and into making it clear that Katara did look back at Zuko and that Zuko looked right back at her, to me, it feels like the choice to show this was pretty deliberate.

(Turning back to look at a person while leaving is a romantic trope that has been overused to death? Or is it just bollywood?)

Also I wouldn't have paid this much attention to this small detail if not for the fact that just a hint of the Omashu legend theme is played here?

No, I swear I'm not making it up.

The Omashu legend theme is used in CoD:

The Omashu legend theme is largely dominated by the music of a stringed instrument (forgive me, I don't know what it's called) alongwith a steady melody playing in the background.

In CoD, when Katara and Zuko start conversing for real, (i.e.; when Katara says: "I'm sorry I yelled at you.") what sounds like a variation of the background melody in the Omashu legend theme, starts its subtle ascent as the background score, but sans the music of the stringed instrument.

It is when Katara says: "Maybe you could be free of it." [About Zuko's scar], when then first hint of the stringed instrument is heard. It is only a single note of the strings but it's there. And this "single note" sound keeps on repeating at regular intervals with the melody building up until Aang and Iroh burst into the catacombs.

But then, when Katara is leaving with Aang and she turns back to look at Zuko, this time the music that plays for a few seconds at best, is dominated by the stringed instrument again and this time it's unmistakable.

Also I don't think this music is used anywhere else in the course of the whole show? So it can't really be a coincidence? But I don't really know. I'm saying this on the basis of as far as my memory can reach.

And this is as far as canon stands testimony to what I am trying to say here.

But what about the second half of the story yk, the dying thing, you say?

Well this is where the speculations come in.

Speculation Time:

#1

As a thumb rule, a romance foreshadowed by a tragic tale is meant to have a happy ending.

So this time when Katara's (Shu) life is in danger (Azula's lightning bolt), Zuko (Oma) steps in at the nick of time to save her life (by jumping infront of Katara to intercept the lightning).

(Since I have crossed the limit of images in a post, here is a post by @araeph which illustrates this point.)

Yes, I am completely aware that Zuko taking the lightning bolt for Katara is not his declaration of love for her. What I mean to say is that the whole scene was so very painfully obviously romantically framed (the immediate change in music when Zuko realises where the lightning bolt was headed, both of their expressions, Zuko's agonized "Nooooo", the slow-mo throughout the shot).

I am also aware that Zuko would've taken the lightning bolt for anyone. But it is the narrative that demands that Zuko take the lightning bolt for Katara and Katara only. Because this has atleast 10 different payoffs (a direct callback to the Book 2 finale where Azula had shot Aang with the lightning; the grief of which was for Katara to bear but this time Zuko himself stands between the lightning and Katara instead of being the silent spectator, the culmination of both Zuko and Katara's personal character arcs, Zuko's scar would parallel Aang's: Aang got it because he chose Katara over the world and Zuko got it because he was willing to give up the world to save Katara, etc, etc).

Tl;dr: The lightning scene wouldn't hold all that much weight if it wasn't Zuko taking the hit for Katara because the narrative literally demands it.

#2

This is where we start wading into really murky waters.

From mucking around on Tumblr due to Zutara feels™, I came across this post where some of the ideas for Book 4 were written:

• The Southern Water Tribe experienced the longest series of attacks from the Fire Nation. Zuko and Katara become political partners and work together to help end the animosity and repair relations between their two nations.

• Just like how Zuko learned to appreciate the Earth Kingdom, he would learn to appreciate the Water Tribes. Katara also learns to respect the complexity of Fire Nation culture. There is no such thing as an “evil” nation.

And that basically means that Zuko and Katara would've been working together to de-escalate the hostility between their respective nations and improve the relations between the two nations, while learning about each other's cultures simultaneously as the world would be in the process of being rebuilt after the war and they would be major role-players in shaping the new world.

Which is quite similar to how Oma strived for peace between the two villages and then as a result of the improved relations between the villages, the city of Omashu was built as a monument to the love story of Oma and Shu; which might just be symbolic of building a new world where both the villages could live in peace due to the initiative taken by Oma on behalf of herself and Shu.

The story would've come a full circle; that's all I'm saying.

If you've stuck around for this long, thank you for taking the time to read this long ass post with points that you may already have read ♥️

[lightdancer1]

A scene from the next chapter of Valley of the Shadow:

Azula did not grumble too much or too loudly that her brother and her parents and even her uncle at times seemed to feel a need to touch her shoulders, to see that she was alive, well. Physically here. Nor that Mai and Ty Lee hung around her, even if not quite as close. She had, after all, died. Aang seemed to mind rather less that Bumi was as close to him as they were, judging by his own body language even if he clearly had some small bit of irritation mixed in with the understanding.

It was a heady thing after dying and coming back from the dead to realize that the soldiers, loyal to them and under the nominal leadership of the least likely person in the world and the real world command of someone entirely different (thankfully) were there. A very unlikely coalition of Northern and Southern Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads had begun to shatter the Fire Nation's rule in the former Hu Xin Provinces.

In the span of time since their departure from the Siege of the North a third of the Hu Xin Provinces were freed and the Earth Kingdom army had broken out from the mountain enclaves. It was an alliance hardly without its strains as a century of enmity was not so easily forgiven, yet the Firebenders fighting on the side of their allies had more than proven their skill and held their weight.

The story of what precisely had happened in the catacombs beneath Lake Laogai was imperfectly told, as yet. Even so there were looks of awe at the Avatar and even at her and those she was not comfortable with. She had run away because she killed a man and then she rose from the dead because one of the monsters infesting their world had chosen to bring her back. Because of the Pact sworn.....and she knew more than anyone else on this world the scale of what had allied with them and what it was that had beset them.

That wasn't even remotely on her mind at this moment. The weight of everything in her life to this point was. She had tried, very very hard. She had gone above and beyond for someone who had tried to kill her once and outright done so the second time. Katara had killed her boasting about returning her to their Father.

She had died, been well and truly dead and now she was alive. Her family seemed ill-disposed to let her out of their sights for very long. It could have felt confining. Within limits it actually did. But only within narrow limits.

She was alive. The Avatar was alive. The monster on the throne's plan, insofar as a creature that feral could be said to have one, had failed. The simple miracle of breathing, of knowing that the very worst that could happen had happened and that they were still there.....was no small thing itself.

The new Air Nomads and their leader, the younger Gyatso, were equally protective of the Avatar as well. She could see him sitting near Aang, eyes constantly looking to him and occasionally to her as well. She mused that what would have been immensely annoying and infuriating in any other context did have a point.

Corpses did not in fact regain life and walk again as a regular basis. In another world, perhaps, like those that the monsters had shown them perhaps something like this would have created a religion had it happened or been believed to happen. In this one? A creature from another dimension had devoured a third of the population of war refugee-swollen Ba Sing Se into itself. Gods walked the earth and creatures of greater power were restoring ages of legend to reality.

Next to that that death was not quite as permanent as it had been was no great shock. It was easier to dwell on that than to admit how much she enjoyed her family actually wanting to be around her, that she could accept this and did and that the part of her that had longed for this ached to throw off the mask of dignity and get everything she could have wanted as she wanted it.

[frustrated-writer-skyeknight]

The Little Vampire ➡️ The Vampire Brothers Plotbunnies

RuDony    

GregAdam

Instead of Gregory getting hit by Rookery’s light, it’s Rudolph.

Gregory is the one who follows him.

Gregory is “19” in a sense

Rudolph is “15” in the same sense.

Adam and Tony are 15 years old.

So aged Up. I don’t know Gregory’s age from 2017 movie so he could be aged up, aged down or whatever here for all I know.

Tony’s parents have been dead for years.

Adam’s family has taken him in, Tony being the first to become Adam’s friend even before Adam got popular due to his “Big foot” gene.

Tony’s into Urban legends and Cryptids so he’s usual hobby is to go hunting for where they’re rumored to hide.

Adam usually comes along to humor him. At least now with his abilities he can make it easier to escape if needed.

Since Gregory was the one not incoherent from injuries sustained, he had the good sense not to return to the catacombs and lead Rookery to where the rest of the clan were.

At the chase though, they ended up crashing into a camp site where Adam and Tony were.

Tony had been psyched to meet actual vampires.

Adam less than psyched, holding the scruff of Tony’s hoodie to prevent him from getting near the two undeads.

Rudolph and Gregory, of course, are wary of the two mortals.

The wariness was is lessened to an extent when Tony’s quick thinking managed to help lead the monster hunters astray.

Adam and Tony were in Germany together for vacation. There’s been a mixed up so the Harrison parental’s flight is in a week after the boys.

The Airline offered to pay the excess fees I the lodgings since it was fully booked in flights to be adjusted for them to go together.

(I do not know how airlines work so just pretend these things happen lol)

Once they were in the clear, they had to find a place for Rudolph and Gregory to hide. Luckily, Tony found an abandoned crypt the other day while Adam was back at the bed and breakfast talking to his parents.

Adam’s still not yet sure why he’s actually going along with this. If it were up to him, he would’ve let those hunters know about the vampires. But he didn’t want Tony getting mad at him.

Gregory thought it was a good chance to feed on the mortals while they slept after setting a new camp nearby, and be actual vampires for once. (Tony didn’t want to go back in case the vampires disappeared forever before he really got to ask them things).

Rudolph reprimanded him, saying that they’d be captured by now if not for them.

Tony helps the two vampires find something to eat. That’s why even when they found out they’ve been locked in, Gregory and Rudolph couldn’t break out of the crypt, because their vampire super strength was weakened.

Which was good, in retrospect, when Gregory realized it wouldn’t do to cause a scene especially when they’re hiding from vampire hunters.

Adam didn’t know how he felt about having Tony help them, especially when it meant feeding an animals. Almost like a sacrifice and animal abuse.

Then again, it wasn’t so much different from when humans eat hamburgers, steak and ribs.

Until much later, and the two cows they fed on came back alive as sort of vampires too. So in a way, sort of some differences in that front.

While feeding on cows, Gregory and Adam ended up talking. It started with Gregory finally, and officially, giving his thanks for their help in hiding them especially when Rudolph was injured.

Gregory: He’s been my brother ever since, even before we’ve been turned. It gave me such the fright when he got caught by those beams.

Adam: You were humans?

Gregory: Yes. Orphans, victims of a war. Our clan leader found us left for dead, and decided to turn us. We’ve been with the clan ever since.

Adam: Wow that... That’s not what I’ve expected.

Gregory: If your only reference is this Count Dracula Tony goes on about, I’m not surprise. You’ve been friends with him long, I take it?

Adam: Yes. He’s been my only friend until much recently. After I’ve gotten some others when they find that my other abilities cool, but Tony’s the only one who’s been there even before. You could say I kinda see him as a brother too.

Gregory: He is a nice mortal... You’re a nice one too... For a mortal.

Adam: Thanks... I think.

Gregory: Much obliged.

Adam: ...

Gregory: ...

Adam: Hey, I have an idea. If you’re up for it. (refer to this Headcanon)

Meanwhile, Tony and Rudolph are exchanging questions with each other. During this conversation, Rudolph tells Tony that if he ever needed help, he could just whistle and Rudolph would come help, so long it wasn’t day because then the sun would get him.

Tony didn’t have a heart to remind him that he and Adam were only around temporarily.

Once night falls once more, Rudolph takes Tony flying.

Tony: Next question, can you turn into a bat?

Rudolph: Well, yes and no. Vampires can, but not my brother and I; we weren’t born vampires, you see. Only those who are born vampires can turn into bats, so I can’t.

Tony: Vampires can be born?

Rudolph: Hey, it’s my turn to ask something. Why the interest in the undead?

Tony: I just am, I guess. I mean, most people just... Like things, there isn’t usually a story behind it. Though, there is this one thing my mom telling me my first words were “vam-vam” considering the amount of movies on vampires those who babysitted me watched,

Rudolph: How disturbing. Humans sit on babies? 

Tony: Hey, now it’s my turn with the question. Which was the one I asked earlier.

Rudolph: Yes. And humans sit on babies?

Tony: We do not, it’s an expression for when older people watch and take care of babies. And I want more elaboration on that yes, dude.

Rudolph: Vampire babies are born like humans are, much faster in span though. What takes human years to achieve in an infant’s development, it takes vampire babies months. And once matured, they continue growing but can slowly and they can maintain an age form for however long they want when they’ve finished vampire puberty.

Tony: I see. That’s kinda a shame.

Rudolph: Why?

Tony: I always thought being able to fly was the coolest thing about being a vampire.

Rudolph: Who said I couldn’t fly? *Starts to float*

Tony: WOW! That is so...

Rudolph: Cool?

Tony: Yes!

Rudolph: Want to fly then?

Gregory and Rudolph lost track of time spending it with the humans keeping them in hiding. In fact, they totally forgot of returning to the clan.

It took Anna searching them out. She managed to escape when the monster hunters did happen to find the location of their hide out.

Anna flirts with Tony. For some reasons, this annoyed Rudolph more than it grossed him out.

They made a plan to free the Clan, with them splitting to groups; Rudolph, Tony, and Anna would free the clan while Adam and Gregory distract the monster hunters.

In the process of escaping after liberating the clan, Anna gets hit by the same beam that struct Rudolph before. Tony gets captured in his attempt to give Rudolph an opening to take his sister and escape.

That’s all I got for now. You can drop asks if you like.

[straylight09]

I was reminded today of a story I was told while on a guided tour in the city of New Orleans. Our guide, showing us a small statue in Our Lady of Guadalupe Chapel, explained the apparently apocryphal story of the statue called Saint Expedite.

He’d explained that during construction there had been small statues of saints produced in France and shipped to the Chapel. When the statues had arrived the workers had hastily uncrated them and the names of the individual saints had become confused. One of which, they couldn’t find a plate for and looking through the shipping crate they only found the word Expedite. Deciding that was the name they “created” a Saint and the name stuck. At some point people begin to call upon Saint Expedite to hasten prayers and it was never rectified and eventually accepted as truth.

I have since looked it up, and while it seems there really is a Saint Expeditus, venerated by the Catholic Church, April 19th being the day of his feast, his origin is, at best, interesting. While our Guide only told us the New Orleans version of the tale I’ve lifted the entire origin story from Wikipedia.

Many stories circulated about the origin of the cultus of Expeditus. One states that it began when a package marked expedite (meaning 'be ready' or alternately 'loosen') arrived with unidentified relics or statues. The recipients assumed that the statuary or relics belonged to an Expeditus, and so veneration began. Such an account is set in France in 1781. A case containing the relics of a saint, who was formerly buried in the Denfert-Rochereau catacombs of Paris, was delivered at a convent in the city. The senders had written expédit on the case, to ensure fast delivery of the remains. The nuns assumed that "Expédit" was the name of a martyr, and prayed for his intercession. When their prayers were answered, veneration spread rapidly through France and on to other Roman Catholic countries.

Another version of the story takes place in New Orleans, Louisiana, which was strongly influenced by French Catholic culture through the colonial period. This account says that Our Lady of Guadalupe Chapel (New Orleans) received a large shipment of statues of various saints, and that one case lacked an identifying label. It was labeled "Expedite" (Expédit in French), so the residents assumed that must be the saint's name. Expédit still figures prominently in Louisiana Creole folklore and is revered through amulets, flowers, candles, and intercessory prayers.

There’s also a weird East African tradition where St Expedite has a folk following. These being focused on getting prayers answered in a timely manner.

Though, to be fair, Wikipedia also states that “Expeditus was included in martyrologies in Italy before 1781. There was a tradition that Expeditus could be called upon to help settle overly long legal cases.” If that’s the case, then the stories of urgently shipped statuary being mislabeled are false.

But there’s also the matter that Expeditus being a proper name, is at least, on the surface, a little suspect. The word expedite in Latin expedire ‘extricate (originally by freeing the feet), put in order’, from ex- ‘out’ + pes, ped- ‘foot’. Who names their child on the basis of freeing feet?

So, which legend to believe?

Was Expeditus was a real person whose name was ripe for fictional exaggeration? I mean a Tour Guide’s job is, after all, to be both informative and entertaining.

Or did the statue of some now forgotten Saint get relegated into a postal pun that was then exaggerated into literally Biblical proportions.

Like anything we take on faith, the validity isn’t what’s important. Our desperate desire to determine fact vs. truth is perhaps just an artifact of the modern age. Should we then accept the malleable way history is left for us to ponder over when given no substantial evidence?

As I said, it’s an odd little tale and one that’s stayed with me over the years. Maybe that’s the point. If it wasn’t for the peculiarities of the St Expedite story, would I, or anyone, know or even care if he existed? I mean, a good story, be it Canonical or Apocryphal, is still worth telling.

[flurrys-creativity]

Fantasy Prompt List

Welcome to the Fantasy prompts!

You’re probably here because you don’t have an idea of your own. That is totally fine, I’m here to provide some inspiration or an easy way out. Whatever you prefer!

The prompts you will see here are mainly for Fantasy stories like Hybrid, Shifter, Supernatural AUs, but that doesn’t mean they are exclusively for those. You can choose a prompt from this list and add in your request to sprinkle some other genres into it as well! (I feel like a starbucks or a subway now with all the possibilities here)

If nothing to your interest is on this list, please feel free to check out the “#writing prompts” cause a lot of amazing people posted really cool ideas there!

I categorized them into dialogue and scene prompts. Choose whatever you like! And remember the guidelines!

Dialogue Prompts

“How many times are you going to kill me again?” - “How many times will it need for you to understand?”

“You know, it’s unhealthy to stare at people while they’re sleeping. Especially since you’re neither a hot vampire nor my lover.” - “How do you know I’m here?” - “Because I am the hot vampire in this situation.”

“Why do I need a valid reason to believe in something you can’t see?” - “You mean we can’t see.” - “No, I mean you!”

“Were you really just using magic to stir your coffee? It’s right in front of you! How lazy can you be?”

“You are a child of Fae.” - “Knew it.” - “Wait, aren’t you surprised?”

“Ah, the chosen one!” - “Nope.” - “But the prophecy..” - “Nope.” - “But..” - “Nope, not gonna happen.”

“How are you going to get your kingdom back when you’re restrained?”

“You know what? Why don’t we just cooperate with those invaders? Our world is horrible. How can it get any worse?”

“You were dead drunk last night! Do you even remember any of your conspiracies you talked about? What do you mean they are all real? Are you still drunk?”

“Please catch me when I fall from heaven.”

“Cup of coffee for table 13!”  - “There is no table 13.” - “Just forget it and make that cup anyway.”

“Welcome to 1865! Enjoy your stay.”

“Something about this book shop doesn’t seem normal.” They say, totally oblivious to the flying book behind them.

Scene prompts

Person A is the worst known superhero. Despite that they are highly respected by Person B, the number one hero.

There are catacombs or abandoned train stations underneath each major city of the world. All of them are the home of the beings that were chased, slaughtered and unwelcomed in the human world. Person A is one of them. Though they only know the stories and never witnessed anything themselves. Curious about the upper world they sneak out, where they met person B.

You are able to manifest/build up again anything that has been destroyed or is missing. On accident you restore a portal to another world.

You are sitting at home, doing chores when suddenly a man appears in your living room, blood pouring out of deep wounds. With his last breath, he tells you that you're from now on a seeker of truth.

Person A was trained from the day they were born to be the keeper of one of the many magical portals. A family tradition in fact. They are able to jump between realms and must keep track of who's passing the portal and most important who is allowed to do so.

In a world where you don't have to hide your powers, where having some sort of magical quirk was the norm, you decide to hide what you are able to.

If luck was a superpower, you would have it. Just now you were bitten by a venomous snake and miraculously you're immune to it.

While on a dive tour you stumble upon the cave of a sea witch, who offers something to you, which feels like a dream come true.

Person A was always the favourite child others would play with since everything they imagined became reality. That was until their childhood best friends got lost within one of those realities.

You're the reason the legend of the grim reaper exists. Tell your story.

Person A always made it a hobby skipping between dimensions. They didn’t expect another hopper crossing their path.

Your job is to travel back in time and kill prominent people when their time has come. Up to the 2000s it wasn't a problem, now you face some difficulties.

Person A was just having their driving test when some villain decided to attack the city. Nobody taught them how to divert bombs and crashed cars on the street.

All your life you thought you had just a random group of friends, like any other person has. Apparently none of your friends are human though.

You had very strict parents, who never allowed you to touch anything. Years after you started to live on your own, friends teased you for always touching stuff like pictures with gloves or any kind of protection. Out of spite you stand up, walk to a painting on the wall and touch it with your fingers. Seconds later the person that had been painted, falls out of the frame.

Person A picks up a stray and keeps them at home, feeding and grooming them. Unknown to them that stray is Person B who got cursed to stay in animal form until they learn from their past.

You got gifted a small plushie when you were born. Even though you got older you never threw that plushie away, keeping it always near your bed. During hard times you even take consultation with it, trying to solve your problems through talking. Unknown to you that plushie processes your worries and sends them directly to your personal guardian.

Person A is a mythologist, studying the ins and outs of some fantasy creature. One night while working on some notes, they get interrupted by a voice, correcting them on a random written fact.

Somehow your home became a mythical creature sanctuary.

Mythological zoos are now a thing. You're a zoo keeper in one of them.

You're restoring an old church, awakening it's guardians in your way.

After an earthquake you rush to your museum, fearing the worst. Upon arriving you see that every statue had fallen down and between the shards are now several naked people.

Sometimes life gives you lemons, sometimes it gives you a three headed dog.

It's moments like these where having two souls was absolutely annoying.

In a world where dinosaurs were revived, you held raptors on a farm. They weren’t much different to the chickens your grandpa used to have, right?

You're a mythological creature doctor. Describe a normal working day.

You only meet them once every full moon. When they didn’t appear, you took matters in your own hand and forced the moon to stay full until you found them.

As the last hero has fallen, there is no other chance than to step up and become one yourself.

Everyone heard of the house of the rising sun, with songs and books written about it. Though there is a lesser known twin house. House of the setting sun.

Runalongs were a common phenomenon spread around the world. Children would see them whenever they were on roadtrips. Those creatures running along the moving car and vanishing as soon as the car stopped. This ability gets lost as soon as the children grow up. You yourself had nearly forgotten about the runalongs until you stopped at a red light and looked outside, seeing them standing right next to your car and only waiting for you to do something.

Your Café was the only spot that allowed creatures to work. Vampires taking night shifts, faeries working in the early morning. The only problem were their natures and the resulting reputation.

Person A is a trickster with the power of using other people’s voices. Everything goes smooth until they use the voice of Person C in front of B, someone who should be dead.

Winning an island all for yourself you decided to visit it and noticed something else was already living on it.

Surrounded by a bunch of growling stray dogs in a small alley you never expected someone to rescue you.

While waiting for the traffic light to change to green you heard something rustling behind you in the bushes. Turning around you are met with bright yellow eyes staring right back at you.

On a rainy day you walked back home and got stopped by a small cat. Crouching down you noticed it having a rose in his mouth, presenting it to you.

With proper credit you’re also free to use these prompts to write something for yourself.

[gothamradiokid]

Hallowe'en

From October 31 begins an eve whose end will be on November 2, during these dates we celebrate and remember all the brave whose time stopped

All Saints Day

All Saints' Eve is a feast that began on October 31, ending on November 1 and November 2, the Day of the Dead is celebrated, although these dates were slightly modified by the passage of time; on this page you will be able to know the differences and history of this eve

Now, the tribe of the Celts existed long before Christ, and one of their most famous contributions in the world was Halloween (Samhain) or All Saints' Day, they celebrated it to end the end of summer, what they did was make parties and bring offerings to the dead, since they believed that there were evil spirits, that is why they brought them offerings and human, vegetable and animal sacrifices. Although this was stopped practicing because the Romans did not like so many people dying, with the passage of time Pope Gregory III (731-741) changed his name to All Saints Day, this made the Deltas very happy, this The tradition spread throughout the world and when the Irish immigrated to the United States they were taught legends such as Jack O'o Lantern. As an interesting fact, the legend of Jack 'O Lantern told that he had a turnip embers of fire (since he could not go to heaven or hell, so he seeks his rest alone) but having a surplus of pumpkins in the United States they decided to make them holes and put a candle inside it.

Therefore, referring to something more spiritual that day, in the Christian religion it is necessary to celebrate all the people who reach heaven or paradise as it is known, as it is known in the Christian-Catholic religion, since a saint himself is someone which is pure enough to enter, not just the caconic sates of the Vatican. This eve usually creates a lot of controversy in orthodox believers of Christian Catholic religions or here in Mexico due to the curious translation to "Halloween" this because of the pagan costrumbes of the Celts before the arrival of Christianity and because of the marketing over time .

Solemnity of the Saints

Following the same theme as on October 31, all those people who reached paradise are celebrated, whether they are holy canons of the Vatican or not, but during these dates children who died in a tragic way, violence, accidents without having been baptisms, but in itself the deceased who overcame purgatory and have been sanctified enjoying the presence of God are celebrated.

In the primitive churches each martyr was celebrated on his date of death and place of death but after the persecution of Diocletian, the number of martyrs increased so much that there did not have to be a feast on a common day to celebrate them all, which she was chosen May 13 for the Syrians or the first Sunday after Pentecost according to Saint John Chrysostom. Later, Pope Gregory III (731-741) consecrated a chapel in the Vatican to worship the saints who were previously honored in cemeteries and catacombs that had been left in disuse. This oratory was dedicated "to the Savior, to Saint Mary, to the Apostles, to the martyrs, to the confessors and to all the righteous souls," and it had a choir of monks say a supplementary Office every day in honor of the saints whose birth was every day. From the combination of these traditions with that of the votive masses in memory of many or all the saints, a tradition emerged that was already ingrained by the 8th century, although the date was not always the same. Pope Gregory IV unified it on the first of November.

A ruling that can be presented, in a more theoretical way, is that if the child was not baptized and committed a sin, whether mortal or venial, he could not enter paradise and would wound himself to a place of punishment for his sins, I hear it, although they were good. in life they could never be saints this according to the chaotic-orthodox Christian church

Day of the Dead

This date passes on November 2 and is devoted to people who died in general, although this day has a background and a story that happened with the Mexica, where they celebrated the dead and collect copsehcas, just as the Celts planned it on their own. timepo and region. He would sing to the Christian religion where the behavior of a person in his life is rewarded or punished, for the Mexica there was no such thing, but rather beliefs that the destiny of the bad people would depend on the type of death they had experienced.

The Mexica believed that the afterlife of the deceased could have four destinations Tlalocan or paradise of Tlaloc, god of rain. Omeyocán, paradise of the sun, presided over by Huitzilopochtli, the god of war. Only the killed in combat, the captives who sacrificed themselves, and the women who died in childbirth came to this place.

The dead who went to Omeyocan paradise of the sun, presided over by Huitzilopochtli, the god of war. Only the killed in combat, the captives who sacrificed themselves, and the women who died in childbirth came to this place. The dead who went to the Omeyocan, after four years, returned to the world, turned into birds with beautiful multi-colored feathers. Mictlán, intended for those who died a natural death. This place was inhabited by Mictlantecuhtli and Mictecacíhuatl, lord and mistress of death. Chichihuacuauhco, place where the dead children went before their consecration to the water where there was a tree from whose branches milk dripped, so that they would feed. In this way, life will be reborn from death. The road to get to Mictlán was very tortuous and difficult, because to get there the souls had to travel through different places for four years. After this time, the souls arrived at Chicunamictlán, a place where the souls of the dead rested or disappeared.

When the Spanish arrived in America in the 16th century, they brought their own traditional celebrations to commemorate the deceased, where the dead were remembered on All Saints' Day. By converting the natives of the New World, a syncretism was created that mixed European and pre-Hispanic traditions, making the Catholic festivities of All Saints and All Souls coincide with the similar Mesoamerican festival, creating the current Day of the Dead. .

Praise the dead

"Where would we correctly begin the praise of some brave men, who in life made their loved ones glad with their virtue and who have accepted death in exchange for the salvation of the living? I believe that it is necessary to make a praise of a natural order in which they have been brave. They were brave because they were born of brave, We praise, therefore, firstly their nobility of birth and, secondly, their upbringing and education. " -Aspasia

(comic page)

A few years ago in the city of Gotham, there's was a tragedy in the Falcons family, affecting most part of their business of mafia, also a tragic accident for a district attorney Dent... during this event called "The Long HALLOWEEN" where a killer, called the "Holiday Killer" that killed public figures every Holiday no Julian Day, there was different people who we're blame like Alberto Falcons, Catwoman and even more public figures..

This October... unleash all the bats you hide!

[undyingembers]

Phantom of the Opera - Lenarius/Daeran AU?

Ask me about my AU's!

Ooh, this is a fun one! Where to start.

In this universe, magic exists, but it is way, way toned down compared to the Pathfinder universe. There are people who can use magic, but they are very rare (iirc, Len and Galfrey are the only named characters who ever use magic). You still have the standard fantasy races, but they are not very common.

Len is still a tiefling. In this universe, instead of horns and a tail, tieflings are born with horrible deformities that others see as a mark of fiendish ancestry. Tieflings are horrifically discriminated against. In fact, up until the story takes place, it was perfectly legal to clear out places where tieflings live and kill them on sight. Len got it particularly bad bc now his face is all fucked up (thus he gets to be the “Phantom” whohoo!).

When Len was a child, his parents kept him locked away. However, the kid showed himself to be an absolute genius, particularly when it came to music. One day, while his family was hosting a gala, he thought he would be able to overcome the prejudice and make something of himself with his singing. So, he donned a veil and sang for everyone at the gala. At first, all the guests were completely enchanted by this child prodigy. However, he was soon discovered and all the horrified nobles ran him out with the intent to kill him.

He was only saved by Woljif, who just happened to be out that night. Woljif is also a tiefling, but unlike Len, his deformity is in a spot that can easily be hidden under his clothes. He hides Len in the secret passages of a prestigious boarding school. However, when Len asks for more help, Woljif rebukes him, repeating the words his own grandmother said to him: “if you don’t work, you don’t eat”.

Meanwhile, Daeran Arendae, the son of the world-famous opera legend Silaena Arendae is left an orphan when his mother dies from an uncurable disease. His closest of kin is Galfrey. I haven’t really decided what (if any) noble titles she has, but she is not the queen. Unfortunately, Galfrey is often busy fighting in the Crusades, so she completely neglects the boy and sends him off to a boarding school.

Daeran’s time in the boarding school is a complete nightmare. He was bullied horrendously and was given no comfort while he was grieving for his mother. The neglect caused him to lash out, which in turn earned the ire of the teachers and staff. He hated everything and everyone there.

The only saving grace is an “angel” who would visit him in secret and teach him how to sing. Lenarius had been squatting in the secret areas of the boarding school until one day he was drawn in to the school’s chapel by Daeran’s singing. He followed that voice until he saw that other kid sitting by himself. After Daeran had been done with his song, Daeran started crying for his dead mother and let it slip that his mother had promised to send down an angel. Feeling sorry for the boy, Lenarius presented himself as the angel Silaena had sent down and kept him company throughout his school years (it should be noted that Lenarius pretending to be an angel is somewhat plausible; angels do exist in this universe; Daeran is still an aasimar and Galfrey works with angels all the time while crusading). In addition to that, Lenarius haunted the school as a sort of poltergeist and frightened Daeran’s bullies.

Eventually, Daeran and Len grow up so that they need to leave the boarding school. Daeran gets a job at the opera house as a chorus member, and Lenarius follows him there. Lenarius sets up a lair in the secret catacombs of the opera house and gets back in touch with Woljif. Since Woljif can “pass” as a human, the two of them set up a scheme where Lenarius would pose himself as a ghost haunting the opera and the two of them would run a con where they would extort money from the opera house. However, Lenarius also has a plan to progress Daeran’s career as an opera singer and has been putting that in motion.

From there, things play similarly as the play. The old opera owner sells the opera house to two new owners (Irabeth and Anevia). Woljif informs them of the “ghost” that lives in the opera and to pay him money, keep box five empty, blah, blah, blah. Galfrey comes back from the crusades and decides to patronize the opera house (much to Daeran’s annoyance). Lenarius causes an “accident” to happen to the lead male performer (Iacobin, my cavalier protag for the eventual WotR DLC), causing the guy to walk out in a panic (btw Sabine is the Prima Donna, however I don’t think it would quite work for the lead female to be replaced by a man, so Sabine is the “Piangi”). Daeran gets the lead role and is promptly adored by the crowd.

After the show, Galfrey (who has decided she wants to patch things up with Daeran) visits Daeran in his changing room with her bodyguard, Hulrun. At first Daeran rebukes her, but when she starts bringing up his childhood memories, he softens up to her a bit. As soon as she leaves, Lenarius comes to Daeran in the dressing room and takes him through the secret passages and into his lair. Because Lenarius is a genius, everything looks perfectly awesome and enchanting (and not gross and dank at all), and Daeran is completely taken in by all the artworks and contraptions Lenarius has built. Lenarius is working on a masterpiece, but he cannot quite finish, as he feels there is a piece missing.

After Daeran spends the night in Lenarius’s lair, he finds Lenarius asleep working on the opera. Curious as to what is under the veil, Daeran removes the veil, revealing a creature deformed, cursed, and worst of all, mortal. Lenarius is horrified that Daeran saw his face. At this point, Lenarius had fallen in love with Daeran and is now despairing over the fact that Daeran will never return his feelings now. Meanwhile, Daeran is pissed off that Lenarius lied about being an angel and demands to be taken back to the opera, which Lenarius agrees to do.

The next scene happens at a tavern. Hulrun is preaching how tieflings are evil and he laments how recent laws have made it illegal to purge them out of cities. Ember (who hangs out at the opera house and kind of knows Lenarius’s secret; she also sits with Lenarius in box five whenever he’s viewing an opera) is there and recognized Hulrun as the knight who burned her and her father at the stake. Horrified, Hulrun immediately rebukes and insults her. The scene pans away to Lenarius listening in on the whole conversation.

Again, the next events play out like they do in the show. As soon as Daeran returns to the opera house, a new play is in production. Lenarius sends Irabeth and Anevia threatening notes demanding that Daeran be cast as the lead male in that opera. They refuse and cast Iacobin instead. Meanwhile, they give box five to Galfrey instead of reserving it for “the opera ghost”. Lenarius sabotages the show, using his magical gifts (he has magic powers surrounding certain tricks he can do with his voice). Again, Iacobin (and everyone else) gets freaked out. Irabeth and Anevia almost give into Lenarius’s demands to cast Daeran in the lead, but Galfrey steps up and tells them that they will not obey the orders of a criminal and sends Hulrun backstage to find the saboteur. Because of what he had heard Hulrun say at the tavern, Lenarius kills him and drops him onto the stage. This causes everyone to freak out.

Galfrey goes to find Daeran to bring him to safety, and they both end up on the roof. Daeran tells her that the “opera ghost” is just a mortal man, but he has no idea what that man wants. Daeran is still angry at Len for lying to him, and now he finds out that Len killed someone, and basically his whole life has been upended. He and Galfrey manage to patch things up when she offers him comfort. Lenarius, who has been listening to the whole conversation, falls into despair as he thinks this means he has lost Daeran forever. However, before he parts ways with Daeran for good, he decides he wants to finish his masterpiece and have Daeran sing it one last time.

Six months pass, and no one hears from Lenarius. Even Woljif is starting to get antsy as he hasn’t had contact from his partner in crime in that time. At the masquerade ball, it is revealed that Lenarius has spent that time finishing his opera and appears to everyone demanding that his work be performed.

While rehearsal is going on, someone (either Galfrey or Anevia) find out that Woljif if Lenarius’s accomplice and interrogate him. Woljif tells them all the background info that he knows (Len being a tiefling, squatting at Daeran’s boarding school, the scheme they were pulling). Galfrey decides to use this as an opportunity to capture Lenarius. Daeran, however, has reservations about betraying the only friend he had growing up and runs off to the cemetery.

Lenarius catches up to Daeran at the cemetery, at Silaena’s grave. Lenarius begs Daeran to sing his masterpiece for him once last time. He promises Daeran that if Daeran does this for him, Lenarius will leave him alone forever. Daeran demands to know Lenarius’s name, which Lenarius gives. They have a little bit of bonding over old memories before Daeran warns him that the opera is a trap. Lenarius says he already knows. Galfrey rides in, causing Lenarius to flee the scene. As Galfrey checks to make sure Daeran is alright, Daeran angrily agrees to sing in the opera.

Come the night of the opera, Daeran and Sabine are cast as the leads. Before the climax of the opera, Lenarius incapacitates Sabine and takes her place in the grand duet she and Daeran were supposed to sing together. Lenarius dons a mask and crown and a magnificent dress as he and Daeran sing together for supposedly the last time. Like in the original play/book, Lenarius as the Phantom has a compelling/hypnotic voice. It is obvious that something had happened to Sabine, but everyone, including Galfrey’s guards are too captivated to do anything about it.

After their duet, Lenarius starts to sing an amazing solo. Daeran realized that once Lenarius is done singing, it will be over. The spell will be broken, and he will never see Lenarius again. Not wanting this to happen, Daeran rushes over and removes Lenarius’s mask in the middle of the song. The audience screams in terror at this hideous monster. Lenarius is absolutely mortified. He manages to cast a mass confusion spell on the audience before making a getaway. Daeran runs after him.

As Galfrey can’t rally her men, she grabs Woljif, who she had kept restrained, and demands that he take her to where Lenarius took Daeran. Woljif agrees and leads her down the catacombs. However, he betrays Galfrey and instead leads her into one of the death traps Lenarius had built.

Meanwhile, Daeran follows Lenarius back to his lair. Lenarius is hurt and furious (and also suffering mild PTSD flashbacks from his parents’ gala) that Daeran would ruin his grand moment. He says some really hurtful things to Daeran and demands Daeran leave him alone. At first his words seem to drive Daeran away, but Daeran realized that Lenarius is just lashing out and he goes back to comfort him. Daeran tells him that he didn’t mean to hurt Lenarius. He only did what he did because he didn’t want to lose Lenarius forever. He also tells Lenarius that he wishes things could go back to the way things were before that fateful audition where Lenarius was just the friend who comforted him when he was lonely and grieving.

They almost kiss, but Galfrey (who escaped the death trap) runs in, sword drawn. She demands Lenarius let go of Daeran. Daeran tries to get her to back down, but Galfrey will have none of it. She draws strength from Iomadae and starts attacking Lenarius. Lenarius tries to use his magic on her, but she is protected by her goddess. As she chases Lenarius around the lair, she starts destroying all of Lenarius’s beautiful artworks. All the while, Daeran begs her to stop, but he can only watch in horror as all the wonderful masterpieces get destroyed.

Just as Galfrey is about to land a blow on Lenarius, Woljif sneaks in and does a sneak attack on her. This gravely injures Galfrey, and she falls, incapacitated.

Woljif, who had been scouting the area before coming down here, tells Lenarius that the guards are surrounding the opera house and that they need to get out of there fast. Daeran wants to go with them, but Galfrey is so severely wounded that she might actually die if they leave her there. Daeran decides to get her to a healer, even if it means that he and Len must part ways. The two of them kiss before Lenarius and Woljif head off into the night.

The story ends with Ember wandering into the lair and finding the passage Len and Woljif used to escape. She uses that passage to follow them. (There is a sequel. I am ashamed to say that I also did Love Never Dies, but I’d like to think that my version is slightly less stupid).

So yeah, Len is a more sympathetic phantom (he doesn’t kill Sabine). It was completely self-indulgent on my end, but I enjoyed this one a lot.

[tinydooms]

raspberryjamtoast said, “birth of a legend”

Well, I don’t know about that, but I’ve always been a writer; it’s been the only job I’ve ever really envisioned for myself since early childhood. I remember being asked in kindergarten what I wanted to be when I grew up and replying with, “someone who writes stories in books”. 

I did, in fact, get professionally published once, though the book is long out of print. It was called “The Lost Ones” and was a Gothic Horror/Historical Fantasy/French Revolution AU story that included ghosts, monsters, an off-screen serial killer, the Paris Catacombs, the abandoned palace of Versailles, and another serial killer who was on the side of Good. Everyone was named for characters in Shakespeare. It was completely bonkers. I was in college. 

It’s out of print and the rights are mine. I have the pdf still; I wonder if anyone would be interested in reading it?

[doctorsgirl262]

Ranking (Most of) the Nancy Drew Video Games

Literally no one asked for this, but I thought it’d be really fun to rank and give my opinion on each of the games. I’m biased towards a fair share of the games since they were the ones that I played growing up. **I have yet to complete 5 of the games (I know, blasphemy) but I’m not going to rank them since I don’t have any opinion on them. This includes: Stay Tuned For Danger, Final Scene, Ransom of the Seven Ships, The Captive Curse, and Labyrinth of Lies. I am also not including the dossier games. I also want to stress that I don’t dislike any of the games. 

28. Secrets Can Kill (Remastered): This game is okay, it’s not my favorite. I like the fact that Nancy is trying to solve a murder. But I feel like all the characters are kinda bland and really aren’t all that memorable, and neither are the games. I also found the hidden clues in the posters to be a bit challenging, so overall, I’m not a huge fan of the game.

27. Tomb of the Lost Queen: I loved the idea, but it wasn’t really memorable to me. I enjoyed it enough when I played it, but have absolutely no desire to play again. But I do like the Egyptian history that we see in this game.

26. Midnight in Salem: Honestly, not as bad as everyone makes it out to be. But by no means is it good. I didn’t hate it while playing, but it was missing a lot of what the games normally have. It felt dull and kinda boring, and the plot just didn’t feel totally cohesive. But, I look forward to playing more games in the future, even if it means waiting another 4 years. I will admit though that the mechanics were seriously lacking. I hated having to drag the screen up and down to search for clues, and the way moving worked kinda was abrupt and sudden. But, I’m realllllly digging the updated looks for the Hardy Boys.

25. Trail of the Twister: Kinda boring, kinda not. I don’t really care about tornadoes at all, so it was boring to learn about them and having to be part of the team. But I did enjoy the underlying mystery about selling secrets and such, and I liked most of the characters.

24. The Shattered Medallion: It’s an interesting game, but I’m not a huge fan of it. Nancy and George (and Bess) being on a reality tv show is an interesting concept, but I like the concepts where there is true mystery and danger to be found as Nancy delves deeper. The puzzles were fun, but not super memorable. I think it’s a fun game to play once, but I have absolutely no desire to play it again.

23. Message in a Haunted Mansion: I haven’t played this one in years, but I remember being terrified of it when I did. Finding the creepy note and then almost having the house burn down always scared me, and the fact that there was a “ghost” haunting the place didn’t help. I think it’s an enjoyable game, but it doesn’t have the same replay-ability as some of the other games do.

22. Secret of the Scarlet Hand: I love history, I really do. However, I found that this game was just a tad bit too boring with how much history it had in it. I enjoyed getting to learn about Mayan culture, but the fact that the mystery doesn’t really occur until half way through the game was just kinda a killer for me. The puzzle weren’t my favorite either.

21. The Haunted Carousel: I had a really hard time playing this one, but that has nothing to do with the game itself. I have a fear of oceans and sharks, so sometimes I had a hard time getting through puzzles. The puzzles weren’t my favorite, but I think the plot was interesting, with Joy remembering her past and the amusement park.

20.  The Creature of Kapu Cave: I think it was really cool that we had the opportunity to play as the Hardy Boys in this game. I think it was an interesting plot overall, but I got bored sometimes. I also hated Quiggly, she was rude and annoying towards Nancy and it just frustrated me to no end.

19.  Curse of Blackmoor Manor: The game had a creepy feel to it, but I feel like the end of the game was a real let down. There was so much plot throughout the game, and there was the “curse” that Nancy learned about, and it just seemed to come to an abrupt ending.

18.  Ghost Dogs of Moon Lake: I think this game is interesting. The speakeasy was a really cool aspect of the game, and I enjoyed that it was a bit of a darker game. But I think the puzzles were fun and interesting and it was an enjoyable game.

17.  Ghost of Thornton Hall: I love the atmosphere of this game, with it taking place in the South with ghosts. I love the history that was involved in the game, and the whole plot revolving around Charlotte and her death/murder. I like the dark route the game took, compared to some of the other games. It’s one of the few games that give me the chills.

16.  Sea of Darkness: I hate it when there is Ned and Nancy drama in the games, it always makes me so uncomfortable. In a previous post I talked about how I felt about their relationship, so I won’t really get into it, but that’s besides the point. The fact that it’s last game with Lani Minella is sad, but it was still an interesting game. I think the puzzles were fun, and I enjoyed the Icelandic activities in the game.

15.  The Silent Spy: I love the fact that we get a backstory on Nancy’s mom’s death. Also, going to Scotland and meeting Samantha FREAKING Quick. The fact that we finally got to put a face to her name after waiting for so long (11 games btw). I think it was a seriously fun game that had some interesting puzzles and had a unique plot.

14.  The Haunting of Castle Malloy: Another really creepy game to me, but really well done. I enjoyed most of the puzzles in the game, and the idea of searching for the missing groom and trying to understand the history of Castle Malloy was super interesting. The characters were overall rememberable, and so was the plot, and I feel like it was a nice, challenging game

13.  Alibi In Ashes: I really enjoyed this one too, and I love that you get to play as Bess, George, and Ned on top of playing Nancy. I find it crazy that her town would think that she would burn down the old town hall, but it’s whatever. I liked getting to build a case for Nancy, I think that was a fun aspect of the game. I also liked that it was our first chance to really meet Deirdre Shannon. I just liked the whole mystery aspect of this game, with dusting for finger prints and picking locks to trying to determine a suspect.

12.  Legend of the Crystal Skull: I liked the dark vibe of this game, and that we got to play as Bess. I really enjoyed Henry Bolet and his character, and I think that the overall plot of the game was really interesting. The crystal skull was a really cool idea to have in a game, and I feel like overall the game had a good balance of creepiness. I also loveddd the little trap on the poor shop keeper with the sneezing powder.

11.  Danger on Deception Island: This was another one of my favorites from when I was a kid. I always enjoyed the puzzle, especially the one with building Nessie for some weird reason. I thought the plot was really interesting, and that it was a creative idea. The puzzle in the game were also really creative, and I thought that overall, it was a cool game. The characters were interesting, and so was the plot.

10. The Deadly Device: The danger. The mystery. I spent so freaking long trying to beat aggregation, I cannot express the pleasure of completing all the levels. I like that this one had a murder, which reminded me of some of her older cases. I really enjoyed the characters in this one too, and I like how much a true mystery the case was. There were a few moments that really had me a little anxious and on the edge of my seat as I played.

9. Shadow at the Water’s Edge: One of the scarier games of the series, but I enjoy it. I feel like there are certain scenes that are actually terrifying, and I love how well done everything is. All the characters are interesting and finding out the backstory of the hotel and all the ghost business of the game. I think that it as a whole was just an amazing game, and there was so much detail that went into this game that I loved.

8.  The White Wolf of Icicle Creek: Weirdly enough, I love the chores aspect of this game. I normally hate doing chores, but they’re kinda fun here. I think the puzzles in this game are fun, and so is the mystery. I love it when Nancy goes undercover. I love that they brought back Tino Balducci for it, and like Nancy, I feel like all of us were groaning at the realization that we had to work with him (but we were all also kinda excited to do it too). However, there was so much history to the game, that I feel like the ending was kinda abrupt, but that could totally just be me.

7.  Secret of the Old Clock: I absolutely love the fact that this game takes place in the 1930s and that it’s based loosely on Carolyn Keene’s books The Secret of the Old Clock and The Mystery at Lilac Inn. The mini games are some of my favorites, and I just enjoyed all the characters and the plot. I always had a lot of fun when I played this one when I was younger, and it was always a game I looked forward to playing

6.  Treasure in a Royal Tower: I love the history that the game is based on, Marie Antoinette. I found that the puzzles in this game were fairly fun too, but I especially liked having to do a bit of sneaking around. I feel like the older games had a lot more danger to them, and I found myself on the edge of my seat sometime while playing.

5.  Danger by Design: Ooooh, this is a fun one. I loved getting to work for Minette, even though she was kinda crazy. All the puzzles were so much fun, but my favorites have to be the cooking challenge and the designs for Prudence Rutherford. The characters are super fun in this game, and I love the plot about the stained glass too. Getting to go into the catacombs is also super fun, and overall, I think they went in a really good direction for this game.

4.  The Last Train to Blue Moon Canyon: I adored this game when I was a kid since it was the first Nancy Drew game I ever played. The idea of a hidden gold mine on top while also having Lori’s disappearance on a moving train was just so fascinating to me. I always enjoyed the puzzles and loved the characters, especially the Hardy Brothers.

AND FINALLY... MY TOP 3 FAVORITE GAMES

3.  The Secret of Shadow Ranch: This is one of the more recent one I played, and I loved it so much. I love the history and culture of New Mexico, so I really enjoyed getting to see the petroglyphs and the cliff dwellings. I’m also a sucker for baking puzzles in games, so I really enjoyed that. The characters were also really interesting, and I loved the Dirk Valentine plot line. Overall, it was a really really fun game that I would love to play again.

2.  Phantom of Venice: This game is near and dear to my heart. The characters are really interesting, and I love getting a glimpse at Ned and Nancy’s relationship, with him giving her the necklace (especially since the more recent games have been giving them a rocky relationship). I think the adventure itself is an interesting one, and I love it when Nancy travels abroad for a mystery. The puzzle in this game were really interesting, and overall, I really enjoy it. I also loved getting to be Punchy LaRue!

1. Warnings at Waverly Academy: This has been my favorite Nancy Drew game for years. I love all the characters and how different yet similar they are to one another. The puzzle throughout the game, from making a DNA strand to playing scram and air hockey, I didn’t dislike any of the them.  And the Edgar Allen Poe story plot is also super cool, I think that was an amazing plot that Her Interactive came up with. Also, the snack shop mini-game is just so much fun. “As of now, the snack shop is open!”

[life-after-bang]

Hi there! May I request any headcanons about different superstitions around the Metro?

[Hey-hey, @simonein2015!:) Sure, some mystical, creepy stuff, why not!]

Metro superstitions headcanons

People of Metro are quite superstitious and, obviously, they have their right for that. These are the stories you can hear anywhere: hot discussions in the station spaces, drunk talks in the bars, lazy conversations in the therapy lazarets. Here are some of them.

• One of the most common and well-known stories is a story about the subway Trackman. The legend says that he sneaks through dark, flooded with wastewaters and deadly poison gas, tunnels. Sometimes, when he comes close to the station, some guards from the most distant outposts hear him calling. Some of them pass out immediately but some are walking to the call. It's not hard to guess that nobody seen them again. So it's become a good sign to leave some gifts like bullets, food or filters in the tunnel, to cajole the specter, when you go on the “trip”. Probably, this superstition was caused by stalkers who were one step from death but were saved by these little souvenirs. Nobody knows for certain.

• Kremlin Star is another one widespread legend of the Moscow underground. People believe that after the bombing the ruby-red stars of the Spasskaya tower absorbed some kind of energy and became a deadly dangerous trap. They say that if a person looks at that star, they could hardly move ones eyes from it. It would only take a minute for an adult to completely lose their will. Later they found out that the biomass was the reason. It was burned by flamethrowers soon, but the superstition is still alive and people still avoid looking at the mystery red stars.

• Another one thing metro people try to avoid - to disturb skeletons of people who died in the nuclear storm and a few weeks later. They are afraid that they may wake up the old spectres who sleep here with a dead sleep. If you were unwary enough to break bones or insult skeletons, then you will certainly be followed by a disturbed soul and will probably end up dead. That’s why experienced stalkers stay careful even in the catacombs.

• Stalkers who were lucky enough to commit several sallies sometimes tell about a special kind of moss in the dead city. Allegedly, if the person looks at it, they are going to lose one’s vision. Most likely, the reason for this superstition lies in the fact that the gas masks of those stalkers had barely noticeable micro damage and was not able to protect eyes from toxic fumes. The moss has a fairly bright color so there’s no surprise that it leaves a strong trace in the memory. But who knows?

• Some stalkers, who have a slightly more subtle mental organization than an army boot, believe that killing mother monsters, protecting its kids, is a bad omen. Allegedly, it’s better to get them round since it won’t attack or follow the rover. They say that the spared animals even recognize stalkers who have shown them compassion and lead their packs away, allowing them to pass without a bloodbath.

[brialavellan]

It has been 20 years since Inquisitor ‘Manehn Lavellan defeated Corypheus, and 18 years since the Exalted Council. Solas is furthering his plans and so far, all efforts to stop him seem to be in vain….until the Well of Sorrows begins to speak to ‘Manehn once more. Led by ancient magics and beset by enemies from Ferelden and Orlais to Antiva and Tevinter, ‘Manehn must gather allies old and new in a race against time to defeat Solas - at any cost.

(NOW ON AO3)

Chapter 1 ||  Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8

CH 9: Smoke and Mirrors

“What good luck we’re having,” Katrina murmured to herself as she made her way down the stairs towards the Cathedral exit, her hands on the hilts of her daggers and a smile creeping across her face.

Everything was going as planned. The bait was irresistible. It was almost foolproof, if Briala wasn’t so cautious, so cagey. Decades of loyal-enough service had won her a spot in Briala’s inner circle among her most trusted spies. However, if Natalie was too sloppy, and if Katrina did not choose her words and actions carefully, the web of careful intrigue would be torn to shreds.

Briala would not look lightly on traitors. Solas would not look lightly on failures.

She was about to open the doors towards the outside grounds when she heard the faintest footsteps following her. She turned to see Briala hot on her heels in russet brown leather armor with a crossbody bag and a bow on her back.

Briala was trained for years in the art of subterfuge, misdirection and occasional assassination. Her calm masked her anger. This slaying was merely more retaliation. Or misdirection. None of Solas’s agents were so sloppy as to be seen. She was sure of it. But she couldn’t let any potential lead go to waste.

Briala pulled Katrina to the side and checked her surroundings to make sure no one was listening.

“Where did you say the boy took off to?”

“The catacombs, my lady.” Katrina whispered back, “I was on my way to inform Amir and -”

“No need,” Briala said, “We’ll look ourselves.”

Katrina paused for a brief moment, caught off-guard by Briala’s insistence, worried this meant Briala was getting suspicious.

“Of course, I can take you to the last location I saw him,” she said as they both left the Cathedral, crossed the grounds, and made their way towards the bustling streets of Val Royeaux in front of them.

Carts and carriages rumbled past while pedestrians darted in between. Merchants and peddlers yelled to the crowds from stalls, shops, and street corners, selling wares from Orlesian finery to Fereldan leathers, from Tevinter curios to Nevarran books. The cacophony of sights, smells and sounds would be nearly unbearable to those newly initiated to Val Royeaux’s streets, but both Briala and Katrina knew these streets intimately. They had wandered the hidden alleys and the underbelly as much, if not more than the cobblestone streets that weaved their way across the city.

Briala and Katrina darted into a nearby alley and nearly collided with a family of huddled, filthy, weary elven beggars, all tearing into a loaf of hard tack with skeletal fingers, their pale skin as pallid as bleached bone.

“My lady,” a small boy with matted auburn curls scurried up to Briala and tugged at her sleeve with wide and sunken brown eyes. “Can you spare something, please?”

Briala pulled out a sovereign and pressed it into the palm of the young boy and closed his fingers over it.

“Don’t despair, little one. Have pride.” she said as the young boy stumbled away, wide-eyed, clutching his prize. She let herself be still for a moment as the boy presented his gift to the others, who eyed her with a mixture of gratitude and suspicion. She could have coaxed him for information but she wanted to pay a kindness without demanding a price.  

Katrina noted otherwise. “You could have pressed the boy for information, ask if he’s seen anyone around.”

Briala glanced back at the boy before turning to Katrina. “We’ll find a better lead in the catacombs, and I have sovereigns to spare for bribing.”

They kept walking through the alley, watching for anyone who would tail them or would attempt to accost them, before coming to a dead end. They crouched behind a wall of crates and bags, both scanning the ground and tracing the cobblestone surface with their fingers until Briala found a rim of steel and a small slot. She took a small socket wrench from her bag and placed the wrench into the slot and pushed hard with both hands, nearly wrenching her own fingers in the process. The cobblestone began to move and loosen with the shriek of grinding metal. Briala pried the circle of cobblestone from the slot and descended into the catacombs, Katrina following closely behind her and pulling the cobblestone on top of them with a loud scraping thud.

————————

Cassandra and Vivienne found a templar and a servant to clean up the body and the mess, respectively. Vivienne had suggested taking the body to a doctor to examine the wound and deduce any potential clue, and Cassandra had agreed. The Knight Vigilant had ordered rotations doubled and a pair of templars stationed outside the Divine’s office, which she had protested.

“I do not need a full garrison, not when forces are stretched thin. Put your men back in the Circles or out on patrol where they belong!” she argued, “We need to find who did this!”

“With all due respect, Your Perfection, your life is obviously at risk, and we will not allow you to come to harm,” the Knight Vigilant implored her. “One garrison to protect you now beats the ten I would have to put on the streets to calm rioters if you are slain.”

“We have men looking at the scene and watching for anything suspicious.” he said to mollify her. “We will let you know immediately if anything is amiss.”

Vivienne coaxed Cassandra to turn towards her and placed both hands on her shoulders with a gentle squeeze and reassuring tone. “It’s for your sake, darling. The Knight Vigilant speaks sense. Yes, you can handle yourself, but let them do their jobs.”

Cassandra closed her eyes, and took a long, heavy breath.

“Very good, Knight Vigilant,” Vivienne said with a wave of her hand in dismissal, “Let us know if you find out anything at all.”

“Of course, Grand Enchanter,” The Knight Vigilant said with a bow as he departed. Vivienne and Cassandra retreated into Cassandra’s quarters.

“Despite everything, Briala has her uses and her network of agents are vast enough. They will find something,” Vivienne said as Cassandra sat herself down at her desk. “Whether they will act quickly enough is another question. The important thing now is that we find out who was so brazen enough to do this. I will interrogate the girl’s associates.”

Cassandra shifted in her seat and rapped her fingers loudly on her desk, trying to displace her energy into something as close to punching as she could manage. She was far more comfortable with a straight and honest fight, but she was grateful to have someone well versed in the ways of the Court to advise and support her. She did not have the head for the politics of the Chantry and the patience to learn the intricacies of the Grand Game. For her, it was not only a distraction from her work as overseer of the religious life of all Thedas’s people, it was an affront. She believed that the Divine should not stoop to such pettiness. Many of her beliefs had been tested since she had been voted into her position.

“I don’t think you should do that.” Cassandra said after a long silence, “If you’re right, you’d be in danger. Maybe I should go with you. A Chantry sister would not think to lie to my face.”

Vivienne laughed at her naivete. “They will absolutely lie to your face, my dear.”

She saw Cassandra’s jaw clench and face redden and reached to grab her hand, gently squeezing it as she leaned against the desk. “Chantry sisters are Chantry sisters because they wouldn’t last even five minutes at a simple soiree without losing their status, their wealth, or their lives,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I appreciate the offer. And the sentiment.”

“Now, why don’t you change into some armor, take a guard with you to the training grounds, and beat out some of that nervous energy?” Vivienne teased her as she rose to leave. “I will inquire about her dealings. I’m positive, as I’m sure Briala is as well, that all traces will lead to Natalie.”

Cassandra took a deep breath and rose to her feet. “I will take your advice. All of it.”

“Of course you will,” Vivienne said with a mischievous smile as she departed. She walked down the hall and down the stairs, leaving the Apartments and crossing the grounds to the Chantry sisters’ living quarters. She would find a few initiates there, and a few answers. She had lied to Cassandra. Some sisters were actually quite good at the Game. 

But she was better.

————————

Useless! Useless! Useless!

The word drummed in Mirwen’s head as she combed her way through every scrap of paper in every book she could get her hands on in that squalid library. They had nothing, of course. No information that she didn’t already know. In fact, most of the books were wild conjectures and half truths all bathed in anti-elf sentiment and disdain for every magic outside of a proper Circle’s purview. Contempt leaped from the pages.

Even the “forbidden” books were merely re-treads of the same theories in less palatable language for a rigid Chantry. All books with any mention of blood magic were here, she noted, not because they condoned such magic (none did), but because they mentioned it existed.

Mirwen took a deep breath to suppress her bitter disappointment.There was no reason for her to feel this way, she thought to herself, just as there was no reason to expect that the any shemlen Circles had answers. Maybe Tevinter’s libraries might bear more fruit. Their magics were appropriated from elven magic, after all. Legend did say their first magister, Thalsin, had learned blood magic from the elves.

And what all of Thedas had learned within the two decades she had been alive was that most of their legends were true.

As she lifted the last tome from her reading stand and put it upon the shelf, she noticed a small paper placed in the empty space, meticulously folded. She glanced around the room. The paper wasn’t there before, and her section of the library was sealed off. She took the paper and placed the book back on the shelf. She gingerly unfurled the paper. At her touch, odd symbols began to scroll across and envelop the page. These symbols could reveal themselves only to a mage’s eyes, she hypothesized, and though the symbols were unclear in their meaning, there was a definite pattern to them, a flow of structure that suggested that this was a cipher of some sort. 

Footsteps and voices coming closer to her snapped her back to her senses. She took a few sidelong suspicious glimpses around her as she hurriedly shoved the note into her small belted satchel, just as the First Enchanter was unlocking the door.

Varric peered into the room, the First Enchanter standing behind him, with the smallest glimmer of a smile.

“Did you find what you need?” he asked. “Shall we go back to the Keep?”

“I found nothing at all, unfortunately,” Mirwen said as she adjusted her belt. “Let us move on.”

————————

Back at the Keep, Mirwen and Varric shared a small table and a scrumptious meal, with servants waiting to change courses and serve water and wine. The air was warm with the scent of succulent foods and the vaulted walls of the Keep’s dining hall were softened by the glow of candlelight and of a setting summer sun. Mirwen felt much more comfortable in this space than the squalor of the Alienage, the cold sterility of Kirkwall’s Circle, and the harshness of Sundermount’s rugged peaks. A small amount of guilt began to gnaw at her as she ate. She enjoyed such finery to the point that she almost expected it, while her brethren wanted for little more than food, shelter and safety. 

She couldn’t help it. She was, in all arenas except magic, quite sheltered after all.

She tried to put her unease out of her mind by listening to Varric talk. She could see why he was a prolific author and she smiled softly as he weaved his tales of her mother’s heroics and their long-past battles. Mirwen placed her head in her hand, feeling strangely nostalgic as she listened to Varric wax on. She did remember his love of stories, and her love of his love of them from when she was small.

She remembered her mother’s other friends as well. She remembered Dorian. She remembered Iron Bull. She remembered Blackwall and Sera too. When her mother spoke of them, there were faint flickers of faces vaguely familiar from the time when she was a toddler in pinafores teetering around Skyhold. But that was all they were. She knew Vivienne well and Cassandra well enough, but these were her mother’s friends, her mother’s stories, and her mother’s memories - not hers.

Now, she wasn’t so small anymore. Now, she felt incredibly irked by her sudden complacency. Her mood soured immediately and Varric’s sweeping tales now sounded like meaningless drivel. There was no more time to waste on nostalgia, she angrily mused, her breath quickening. Not when her mother and Davhalla were aimlessly wandering Maker-knows-where while Briala was up to Maker-knows-what and while they fumbled for answers, an immortal self-proclaimed God was Void-bent on destroying everything.

His rising has shattered her small world once before.

And he was coming for whatever she had left.

As Mirwen silently groused and Varric talked to her to soothe her nerves, the doors slammed open and Aveline barged in with a full retinue of guards, her jaw clenched and her face as red as her hair. Three elves flanked her and the guards, dressed in bl leathers and brown cloaks with short swords on their belts and sour grimaces. Mirwen recognized their leathers and their faces. They were Briala’s people, she was sure of it.

“Varric, we need to go. Now.”

“That bad, huh?” Varric said with a weak chuckle.

She shoved a small, bloodstained paper into his hands. Varric’s eyes widened as he scanned the page.

“From my retinue stationed outside the Alienage,” she said grimly. “Sent by courier just before they were cut down.”

“Well, shit.” He looked at Mirwen, his jaw slack and eyes wide. “We need to get you back home. Immediately. You’re not safe here anymore, no matter how many guards I post outside my doors.”

“I can take care of myself -”

“This is a little beyond taking care of yourself, Sugar Plum,” Varric said, his voice trailing off, followed by a small stream of curses, “Ancestors preserve me, I didn’t want it to come to this…”

“They have not taken the docks yet, but we would have to go through Lowtown to get there.” Aveline said. “Unless…”

She drew out parchment and quickly scribbled a crude map of Kirkwall. “Remember Hawke’s estate? Her wine cellar leads straight to Darktown. And she would just be another elf fleeing the chaos. No one would know or notice.”

“Sure, you can get to the docks from Darktown, but how many of your guards would you like to send to their immediate deaths?” Varric pointed out, “Guards would draw way too much attention.”

“We don’t send my guards,” Aveline said “We send -”

“Here on behalf of Marquise Briala.” the youngest of them, a petite man with striking black hair and carrying a fourth cloak, addressed them with a slight nod of his head and a strong Starkhaven accent. “We’ll make sure she’s safe. We’ll stake our lives on it.” The other two nodded at his words.

Varric pulled Aveline closer and whispered. Mirwen couldn’t hear what he said, but could read his lips as he asked her the most important question.

“Can we trust them? If some of her spies have turned before - “

Aveline looked at Mirwen and back at the spies that stood at the doorway as the sound of shouts and fighting began to make their way up to Hightown’s sealed gates.

She whispered back. “We don’t have a choice anymore, do we?”

Aveline approached Mirwen and unclasped a small silverite dagger with a golden handle that gleamed in the warm glow of the candlelight from her belt. 

She pressed it into Mirwen’s hands.

“Consider this a gift from us that we hope you never have to use,” she said firmly, her eyes darting to the side where the elves were standing.

Mirwen nodded as she took it and cinched it on her belt. “I understand,” she said darkly as she rose from the table. The young Starkhaven elf handed her a cloak to put on and carefully fastened it while pulling the hood over Mirwen’s head.

“Keep that cloak covering you nice and tight,” he advised with a crooked grin, “Fancy-dressed elves don’t last two seconds in Darktown. As long as you follow our lead, you’ll be fine.”

“Right then. I’ll take you to the estate,” Aveline said with a firm shake of her head. “My guards here will stay near the entrance to the Keep. Varric, I beg you to please stay put until I get back.”

————————

Aveline and the elves promptly left the Keep and sprinted to Hawke’s old estate, occasionally sticking to the shadows to avoid drawing attention and to give time for Mirwen to catch her breath. As they approached a Kirkwall mansion at the foot of the stairs that led to the Keep, Mirwen could see what time had worn away. The white marble that shone in the Kirkwall sun was a dull, drab gray from decades of accumulated dirt. The glass windows were shattered from vandals, and the crest that had hung above the door, a proud mark of Hawke’s heritage, was hanging askew and weather-worn away to the point that she could only see a vague outline and smatterings of blood red. This was formerly a glorious building, now decaying and dying, as if it too mourned the loss of the Champion.

Aveline wrestled with the rusted lock for a short while before impatiently bashing in the door with a plated boot. The elves scrambled inside and Aveline slipped them her map. As she pulled the door, now hanging off its last hinge, shut, she urged them one last time.

“Do everything in your power to keep her safe.”

————————

The Starkhavener moved down the stairs towards the cellar, keeping to corners and signalling with a quick wave of his hand to move forward. The other two trailed behind Mirwen, eyes darting towards the slightest hint of shadow or movement. Mirwen kept her cloak pulled close. She had reluctantly left her staff behind. It would draw too much attention, the spies had warned her. Varric had promised she would get it back “when the shitstorm settles down at least a little bit”.

The years of disuse had turned the cellar as fetid as Kirkwall’s sewers. Waves of vermin scurried across the tiles, parting at the sound of their footsteps. Rank puddles pooled in spots where slick water dripped from the ceiling. They had even found a couple of groveling squatters, who had seen a flash of the elves’ blades and decided not to take a chance on attacking the group, or the pangs in their bellies would no longer come from hunger but from steel. By the time they had descended the ladder into Darktown proper, Mirwen was queasy from the noxious smells.

They stopped for a moment to let her breathe, and huddled close to a corner, watching waves of elves and humans alike slip and scramble as they fled from the fires of Lowtown into the tunnels. The guards and rioters would not dare descend down here. That is what all four of them were counting on.

What they were not counting on was that someone was waiting for them.

As they crept forward towards a hatch that would take them towards the docks, they were met by three elves - a woman holding a staff and two men holding axes - all three grinning with homicidal glee as they approached.

“I didn’t think you would make it at all,” the woman taunted. “I’d hate to go through all this trouble to find out you were all eaten by giant spiders and such.”

Briala’s spies moved forward to guard Mirwen.

“Sorry to disappoint,” one of the other ones said in a brusque Fereldan accent. “But we have no time to stick around.” All three unsheathed their swords and rushed towards the mage but were intercepted by the two melee fighters.

The clatter of blades was muffled by the sound of people fleeing, but she could hear the death wail of one fighter falling, his axe clattering to the ground, and a hiss from one of Briala’s people as the other fighter made contact with his side.

Mirwen stood ready to cast but found her arms grow leaden, her head beginning to ache, and her magic sputtering away. The mage began to approach her as Mirwen’s knees began to buckle.

The mage, eyes gleaming, walked up to Mirwen and began to taunt her, “All of this effort over a child who is useless without her -”

She shrieked as Mirwen tackled her to the ground, flailing and reaching for the staff. The mage rolled over and grabbed her by the cloak, choking Mirwen and throwing her aside. Mirwen snapped back up and drew her blade but the mage had readied herself, grabbing Mirwen’s curls and slamming her head to the ground. She began to stand, assured in victory before a leather boot collided with her face. The black-haired Starkhavener rushed forward, snatched the staff from her hands, snapped it over his knee and threw it on the bodies of the melee fighters all three had slain. Then he calmly walked towards the mage who now struggled to her feet and cut her down.

Assured she was dead, the Starkhavener raced to Mirwen’s side, ready to apologize, but she waved him off with a weak smile. 

He smiled back, “Guess you were right, you can handle yourself fine.”

The Fereldan elf lifted Mirwen from the ground, examined her head, and slapped a poultice on her scalp under the matted curls where she had begun to bleed. The third clutched his side, mildly limping as he approached. The Fereldan elf turned towards him and slapped another poultice on his wound.

“I can do better,” Mirwen said as she approached the man and gingerly touched his side with her fingers. He winced but stayed still. A few words from her lips and the bleeding stopped. Flesh and sinew began to stitch itself back together. He said nothing back but nodded with grim approval.

The Starkhavener walked towards the hatch and bashed it open with a swift kick. The Fereldan elf went first and motioned for Mirwen to follow as they all descended a long ladder. Mirwen could hear the rush of water and saw a small ballinger waiting in an expansive stone grotto. She could not help but gape at the size of this cavern, for she could not possibly fathom how Varric or Briala’s spies could have kept something like this hidden, though she had to assume someone knew something.

Otherwise, how could they have been attacked?

Anxious to get to safety as their feet found ground, the elves rushed towards the ballinger while several elves already on board wrestled with the sails. Mirwen and the others hurried on board. They set the ballinger loose, all exchanging wary glances even as they shook hands and smiled.

Mirwen watched from the deck as the ballinger emerged from the grotto and she caught a glimpse of Kirkwall within sight. Her veins turned to ice as she saw the furling of black smoke and flickers of orange that were starting to engulf all of Lowtown. She turned from the sight, took a deep rattled breath and descended into the hold below.

[bigskydreaming]

Going through some old pages on the wiki I keep for my projects (can not more highly recommend building a private wiki site for yourself if you’re a writer with a ton of different or extensive projects. Soooo helpful at keeping me organized).

Anyway, came across this old short story I wrote set in the days of the Holy Wars from the Citadel ‘verse I was talking about a couple weeks ago, that was the original setting for what became By Lost Ways. Tossing it out there in case anyone wants a read. Its fairly short and is a glimpse at the future gods of Night and Day from that ‘verse, Adana and Reyus. *Shrugs*

Even Heaven Can Break

“God is dead.” Nerrick sighed and pulled off his glasses, mopping at them again with his now wrinkled shirt front. It wasn’t as though he held any great hopes that clearer vision might give him any further insight into the utterly inscrutable - and likely insane - young woman sitting across the table from him. He‘d already tested that theory and found it lacking. It simply gave him something to do. An ever so slight distraction from the roundabout circles they‘d been engaged in since - what was it now? Some six hours past? 

“Yes,” he heaved, long past the point of trying to disguise his weariness. “You’ve said as much, multiple times. I don’t suppose you’d care to elaborate?” The girl - and she was nothing more than a girl, no matter what foolish superstitions she’d inspired amongst the lower classes - smiled again that same enigmatic smile that half made him wish he was a man more inclined to act on violent urges. 

“God is dead,” she repeated with a small, careless shrug. “It seems a fairly straightforward statement of fact. I’m confused as to what more you expect me to say on the matter, Sir Magistrate.” His back molars ground together audibly. His patience maintained only by the constant vigilance of his temper. Nerrick reminded himself, not for the first time that morning, that he was a man noted for his restraint, his even temperament and unemotional dedication to justice. He was not about to be bested in a contest of wills by some ignorant, backwoods child, in his own prison. 

The small dank room stank of mildew and rot, not to say anything of the havoc the dim torchlight was wreaking upon his fragile eyesight. Only his own personal ethics kept him from abandoning the girl to a more permanent exile in the deeper catacombs, an option that grew more appealing by the moment. 

But as long as the possibility remained that she was merely repeating some heretical pagan belief, unaware of the repercussions her words had upon more civilized folk, he could not in good conscience treat her as just another rabble-rouser. Or, the Citadel guard against, condemn her to a space in the asylums, no matter how mad she seemed. Sitting comfortably three levels below the surface of the great granite and steel prison as though she were some grand lady awaiting tea in her parlor. . “Perhaps you speak of another god unknown to me,” Nerrick conceded gracefully. The wooden chair, almost entirely rotted through, creaked ominously beneath him as he shifted his weight, but God above, even his ass was falling asleep. Still she remained poised, back ramrod straight and never shifting those dark, pupil-less eyes from his. He was a man of reason and science and knew the unnerving Berut eyes to be nothing more than an unfortunate physical trait of her people, but it was easy enough to see how they’d gained their reputation for witchcraft and beguilement. Only the sternest of wills kept his gaze locked with hers. “I admit to being unfamiliar with all the customs of your people, and perhaps we speak of two entirely separate entities. The God of my people is eternal. He created everything we know, and much else besides, and He will endure when all else has turned to dust. He can not die.” “No.” Still she smiled. “There is only one God. In this, my people believe much the same as you. But you speak of faith, things that you can not know but believe to be true. I speak of fact. God is dead. This I know.” He tried reason. “God is the creator of all, and has no peer. If you admit this to be true yourself, then how can God possibly die?” She shrugged again. “Perhaps he willed himself to die. One can imagine eternity might grow tiresome after a time.” Nerrick could almost agree with that sentiment, as for a moment, he entertained the blasphemous thought that even God could be moved to suicide after sufficient time spent with this wretched creature. He dispelled such thoughts with a shake of his head - down that road lay this girl’s particular stamp of madness, no doubt. He tried another tack. “God created the universe. If He is gone, how is it that we are not? Shouldn’t the creation end with the creator?” “Perhaps it is ending, and it just hasn’t finished yet. We can hardly expect the universe to work on the same timetable as ourselves.”

“Tell me then,” he finally indulged her. “What makes you so certain God is dead?” “I saw him.” He sketched disbelief with an aged ashen brow. “You saw God.” “We seem to find a language barrier between us again, Sir Magistrate. Is my Erudi not accomplished enough for our conversation? Among my people, I’m considered quite proficient in your tongue, but perhaps I’ve been misled.” Nerrick flushed. Her Erudi was quite fine - more than, in fact, if a bit stilted. Another minor detail that bothered him, though he could not say why. How did such a young representative of an infamously uneducated people come to speak his tongue with the skill of the most lettered gentry? He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “How do you know that the man you saw was God?” “Wouldn’t you know God if you saw him?” “God is above humanity,” he rasped impatiently. “He doesn’t appear in human form. Should we see him, we’d hardly be capable of comprehending his glory.” Her lips moved in what he imagined to be an expression of pity. It was impossible to be sure, the way her eyes resisted any attempt to read emotion in them. They quivered like liquid night, reflecting the faint torchlight as unsteady flames alit on twin seas of oil. “You speak again of what you believe, because you have never known otherwise. I have known otherwise, and speak again of what I know.” “Enough!” His hand cracked down on the wooden table top, spearing his palm with splinters. His reddened face, already contorted in rage, barely registered the pain. Her face registered nothing at all - just the same painted mask of gentle amusement she’d worn since first escorted down here in the company of his guards. And it was a mask, he was sure of it now. She was too clever with her words to be either ignorant or insane. Whatever game she played at, he wanted no further part in it. “I have no more patience to waste indulging your heresy, and I refuse to subject more of my city’s people to it. You’ve caused nothing but disruption since you first arrived, inciting riots and restlessness among the lower classes, using their faith in service to your own twisted agenda, whatsoever that may be, and it ends here, girl.” She remained unmoved. A pale statue in a plain white dress, inky black curls spilling down both shoulders like curtains cut from the same cloth as those damnable eyes. Her lips twitched. “You may call me Adana.” Nerrick froze, save for where his chest heaved like the billows of a forge, grasping greedily at air to feed his exertions. The tinglings up and down his spine were more than just pinched nerves from too long sitting in one position. This girl, with her damn eyes and impenetrable nerves and heretical talk was more than just some insolent brat from the savage lands north of the city. He was no longer completely convinced there was nothing to the stories and legends of Berutian bewitchery. But those eyes held him now, and he didn’t think he could look away even if he willed it. “You resist giving me your name for these past several hours, and now offer it freely, without me even asking. Why?” “It no longer matters,” Adana told him, heaving a sigh of her own for the first time all morning. Nerrick almost felt that there was regret in that sigh, but her painted mask hid that as well as any other emotion, were it there at all. “For what it’s worth, it was never my aim to disrupt the peace of your city. Call it an unfortunate symptom…nothing more, nothing less.” “Then why?” “Everything you know is about to change,” she said gently. “Well, not for you, I suppose, but for them. They needed to know. It’s time for man to take charge of his own destiny, not spend the coming days huddled in shrines chanting desperate prayers to a deity dead and gone. They won‘t listen, not nearly enough of them at any rate, but some maybe.” Why not for me, Nerrick wondered, but instead he merely asked, “Why now? Why do you tell me all this now, when before it was just a game to you?” Adana laughed, a low throaty chuckle laced again with that hint of pity. “It no longer matters,” she said again. “You want to be here,” Nerrick intuited suddenly. “You evaded the guards for over a week, and then when they arrested you today, you hardly resisted. Like you wanted to go with them. Why? Why now, why here? What is it you want?” “To wait. Here with you.” And then, before he could ask for what, she continued. “There’s a mountain two day’s journey north of here by horseback. My people call it the Degatoi. Yours call it the Foothill, I believe. They say that’s where the Citadel rests, where God makes his home.” “That’s just a myth,” he frowned. “God doesn’t dwell amongst his creations, the Citadel exists in a realm untouchable by our own.” “Some myths are make believe. Others are facts that have since been forgotten. I believed it to be fact, as do my people. So I journeyed there, a pilgrimage of sorts. My…reasons are my own.” “And did you find the Citadel?” “No, it wasn’t there anymore. It moved. It does that, you know.” “Of course,” Nerrick snorted. “Why wouldn’t it?” “Why indeed,” Adana smile wryly. She smoothed her dress in her lap. “I did however, find God. He was lying at the base of the peak. Roughly your height, wearing unfamiliar clothes, though I suppose that’s only to be expected. His hair was strange, almost feathery, and he looked like no man I’d ever seen before. He was dead. And I looked into his wide, staring eyes and in them beheld the Abyss. And I knew then that he was God, and knew all the mysteries and secrets of the Universe that he’d known then at the last. My people can do that, you see.” Nerrick nodded, numbly. He had heard that, any schoolchild knew that myth of the Berut people, the legend that kept even the greatest sorcerers of the South from their doorstep lest it turn out to be true. They could see into a man’s soul with those strange eyes of theirs, see all the way into them into their deepest, darkest reaches and pull out every twisted secret and hidden truth for accounting. It was the kind of legend he’d always held up to be nonsense, but now, staring into those eyes of myth and reckoning, he knew it to be true. Knew all of it to be true. 

He started to tremble, sweat dotting his brow, tracing salty rivers down the cracked parchment of his skin. The torchlight grew fainter and fainter and the air was dryer and thinner, harder to grasp at. Black flecks spotted his vision, and he took off his glasses again. Wiped them, though he suspected the problem was his eyes, not the spectacles. He’d heard these were all symptoms of a heart-death, but it was hard to worry about such things now. He had to know, had to wonder instead, what kind of things might one see in the eyes of a dead God? What kind of things might one know? “The same things we all know at the end,” Adana said softly. She looked at him in the rapidly regressing torchlight and he knew with the same certainty he knew everything now, that yes, her eyes held pity. For him. “You feel it now, don’t you? When it’s so close, that no reason, no logic, none of the games we play to convince ourselves we don’t know the things our soul senses - that little piece in each of us that’s the smallest sliver of divinity linking us to the rest of the universe - none of them can hide it anymore.” Nerrick shivered and licked chapped paper-dry lips. His voice came out a croak. “Why are you here?” “To wait.” “For what?” “The end.” And then, “I’m sorry.” The earth split with a roar, but to Nerrick, all seemed silent. He leapt back, knocking over his chair with a hoarse shout his ears could never possibly hear over the sound of walls crashing down, thunderous echoes reverberating throughout the small chamber. The stained slate floor rent with a crack right through the center of the room, and he stumbled, tried to right himself, stumbled again as the earth shook and danced and trembled like a living thing, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Dust stormed the air in gray, ominous clouds that twisted into his lungs with every breath he took. The sound and fury buffeted him on all sides, splinters and shards of broken rock bombarding his skin. Pricking, ripping, tearing and gouging. 

His glasses cracked and fell, but before he the torches finally failed, he could still blurrily see the girl, Adana, seated serenely on the other side of the table, riding out the madness with perfect poise and watching him with those damned eyes. He fell himself finally and the ceiling split, raining clouds of dust and slate and broken rafters. One struck him full in the chest, pinning him to the floor. He felt ribs break, felt his terrified screams silenced by a shard of wood spearing him through one lung, all his breath going to granting him a few last gasps of air. Adana’s face filled his blurred vision then. In all the din, there was no chance of hearing her get up from the table and walk over to his side, but then there she was kneeling over him. She looked deep into his eyes. “You see? We all know things, even if we don’t know we know them,” she told him gently. “It’s because we’re all a little bit of God. Or maybe the Universe. Creation. I’m still figuring out where the line separating one from the other begins and ends. You were special, Sir Magistrate. Even if you didn’t know it. Take whatever comfort from that you can.” “Go with God.” Then her hand covered his mouth and nose, and she looked into his wide, staring eyes and beheld in them the Abyss, and all the secrets and mysteries of the Universe he had known at the end. ************* Adana rose with some difficulty, and drew the magistrate’s keys from his belt. She smoothed her dress - it would never be white again, she feared - and made her way to the door over a floor that still quivered and rattled, but only restlessly now. Much of its temper had been spent. The hallway beyond was relatively untouched. She quirked dry lips at divine providence, but perhaps it was more accurate to say she enjoyed the favor of the Universe at the moment. The torches were all spent and broken, save for where one had fallen upon the corpse of one guardsman and set his skin and hair aflame, lighting the gray hall fitfully with its macabre light. It was more than enough to see by. At least, more than enough for her eyes. She stepped over another body and ascended the small, tight stairwell at the end of the hall gracefully. Less so, when she almost ran into the blond, dirtied youth who came clattering down the stairs in the opposite direction. He reared back, startled, and she saw that she’d been accurate in her assessment: he was probably no younger than she herself, but his youth shone from his eyes and the sprightly smile that sprang to his face. She recognized him as one of the city-folk always to be found at her gatherings, listening intently to her words. Reyus, she thought his name was. She smiled. “Milady,” Reyus rasped out. The air was still thick and heavy with dust, and he had to stop and pant for breath before continuing. “We were just coming to rescue you!” He waved aimlessly behind himself with what she took for a stolen sword, perhaps looted from a guardsman dead in the earthquake. Coming down the stairs behind him were another young man and a slightly older woman, similarly ill-equipped. Adana favored them with a bemused smile. “How thoughtful.” Reyus blushed a rosy dawn and pressed his back to the wall to allow her passage by. He followed quickly at her heels as she passed the other two and continued up the stairs - rather like an eager but ill-trained pet, she contemplated with some amusement. “Well, there was a number of us - rather, we thought…we weren’t certain what the magistrate would do to you, and we were concerned…” “So I see,” she murmured as they alighted on the ground levels of the prison and found ten or so more men and women of varying ages and garb awaiting them with anxious expressions. They filled in silently behind them as Adana continued towards the front gates, kicking aside the outstretched limbs of the dead where they littered her path. “And are these all your enemies slain? What fearsome warriors have come to my aid here?” She suspected she might be needling Reyus just to see how much further his face could purple in shame and embarrassment. But it was the end of the world, after all. One should take one’s entertainment wherever they found it. The hues of his face performed admirably. “The rest of the guards fled when the earth shook. We never suspected - milady, what is happening? Is this your doing?” “God is dead,“ she said softly. “Such a thing is not without consequences.“ Adana stooped and unwrapped a relatively undamaged black cloak from one body, throwing it over her shoulders. “You’ll want one as well, I believe,” she told the boy. 

His eyes held hers bravely, and he nodded. His was an interesting soul indeed. A cult had hardly been her intention. Gaining the attention of the magistrate had been her only real aim, and if she happened to seed her own mystery a bit early, and allow it more room to grow - well, that had hardly seemed at cross purposes either. But, she supposed, it was never too early to find one’s faithful. A boy like Reyus might come in handy, and who knew what secrets the others might hold? She nodded decisively, and raised her voice to address them all. “Everything you know is about to change.” “I have a long road to walk ahead of me,” she continued. “It is not for the faint of heart.” She turned and walked from the prison‘s gatehouse. All of them, she noted with some interest, followed close behind. They raised scattered cries and shouts of alarm as they beheld the vista outside, but she barely looked up. She already knew the sky overhead was a dark red as though aflame. Roiling purple thunderclouds collided and went to war, crimson lighting stabbing at one and then another underneath. A long black tear split the heavens, stretching from one horizon to the next. Consequences were to be expected. The streets ahead of them were filled with the ruins of buildings and the bodies of the fallen. Survivors milled about in small groups, suffocating in shock while scattered fires raged. Flames crackled hungrily, fitful tongues licking at the sky and spewing their venom of smoke and ash. She could hear, faintly, the desperate prayers for salvation and succor. She sighed, and would have told them to save their breath, but then, she’d already done so. Reyus spun about, lost for even a direction to point his horror. “Milady, what about them?” Adana shook her head without slowing. “They’ll follow, or they’ll die. This city is not long for this world. It’s too close to a Vein. Nothing more can be done, and the whole world will follow if we do not reach our destination.” “But where are we going?” She favored his persistence with another small smile and drew the hood of her cloak up over her head. “We‘re going to the Citadel. To seek divinity.” It began to rain, thick, heavy drops that were warm to the touch, quickly soaking them through and through. She was glad to have found a black cloak, as the imagery of her white dress stained by this unnatural downpour was not one she cared to contemplate - even if it would already never be white again. She reached out to raise Reyus’ hood for him when he remained too distracted to care. The blood staining his golden hair, still vibrant even beneath the dust of dungeons, was not an image she found herself caring much to contemplate either. His was a curious soul indeed. “Milady, I don’t understand. If God is dead, what divinity do we seek?” Adana laughed, a deep throaty chuckle that echoed through the ruins of the broken city. “Ours,” was all she said. They picked their way through the rubble as the skies continued to bleed.

[dafukdidiwatch]

As Above So Below

This somehow both scared and bored me at the same time

<Lots Of Major Spoilers>

Overview

: After years of searching, Treasure Hunter Scarlet finds a clue that would lead her to the fabled Philosopher's Stone somewhere in Paris. She gathers together a crew to find the stone in the catacombs of Paris, but there are other things that lurk down below.

I would consider myself a big time movie/tv person. Have I seen everything? No. Do I like watching anything? Yeah, I'll give it a chance. I like most genres.

Horror though, I have mixed feelings.

Now, I'm gonna be honest, it was hard trying to go into this movie open minded. I have a love/hate relationship with the Horror genre of movies. Older classics like John Carpenter's Thing, Alien, even Scream are movies I adore. But...modern horror movies are a pain to me. I hate how they use shortcuts to try and scare me with random ass Jump-scare for no purpose other than to scare me. It's ridiculous! I can call out when the jump-scares happen, and they Still scare me because of the freaking sound track!

Anyway. I felt it would be unfair for me to say how much I like/dislike the movie without mentioning my preferences. If you like the newer horror movies, awesome, you do you, but for me, its like one of those gatchapon machines where theres a 50/50,chance you'll like it or not.

With that out of the way, lets Actually start talking about the movie.

The movie is shot in Found Footage style and that already added a tally against it in the 1st minute. I am not a fan of found footage. I know that it's popular to make it cheap and personal, but it makes it so hard to follow what is going on. When they are being chased or attacked, I don't know whats happening! Its too dark to tell, the camera is jostling around making me slightly nauseous, and if it does show something, its only for like 5 seconds unless it is stupidly close! There were parts that felt more like watching a Let's Play of a 1st person horror game. Run Run Run, Punch Monster, Run.

It is due to this 1st Person view that, not gonna lie, I barely followed how they got into the catacombs in the first place. Scarlett was in Iran...then she went to France, then...a church to pick up a reverse vandalizer, club, tunnel, catacombs. I can remember the place order, but like hell can I remember what exactly they were saying. All of that took 30 minutes and I was bored out of my mind. And the things that I do remember, they just sort of randomly popped up? Like, they were discussing on whether to jump into the hole

There are parts of the movie that I think was their attempts to build atmosphere, but sort of came out of left field. They say a pale woman walk away from a club: ok. They see her...directing the creepy ass ghost choir?? No idea what that was about. Then They ran into statues that just....came to life to bite at them??? This,was Never Mentioned as potential threats anywhere, it was as if the movie decided it needs random encounters to fill the climax, which is a shame because the tension in this in the middle was really good.

In the middle, when they are Finally going underground to when things got fucked, had a good tense build up. Showing landmarkers that shouldn't be on their route later on. Local lore of "don’t go down the cursed tunnel" (PSA: If the locals say don't do something, don't do it). They get trapped trying to crawl through a pile of bones. Now that part wasn't scary, but was Very Uncomfortable, especially if you have claustrophobia. They have just...random ass things appear like a Piano and Phone which, these people are dumbasses for thinking those things are natural to be there, but does add a good "what the hell" moment that just pikes on. I thought they might go the whole "vague supernatural tunnel turning tricks and getting them to turn on each other" route instead of "slowing pick one off one by one" type. And maybe that’s what they were trying to have, but it was still random monsters popping out to attack so... c'est la vie. 

Another thing I take issue with is part of the lore they use for the Philosophers stone. First, they use the legends and work of alchemists. And that’s pretty cool. Like mystical National Treasure, unlock secret symbols and solve chemical problems. There was a part where they had to figure out the number of celestial planets in the sky based on what century the stone came from since it kept changing over the years, that part was pretty clever. I didn’t know the information, but i appreciated the history.

But they just add random bits from around the world to be like "ooh they connected" like, ok. They have alchemist lore, 14th century Flamel. Makes sense. Then they add a mummy of a crusades guy. I don't know which crusades, but it doesn't matter since he was used more as a prop than plot device. Hell it might be Flamel himself, I don’t know. Then they throw...Ancient Egypt....Sure. Why not. Alchemists could go to Egypt to learn then stick hieroglyphics and traps in the french catacombs. Given how I don't know anything about alchemists history, I'll go with it.

What I WONT accept is them calling Dante's Inferno Mythology! That is Bullshit! I call BullShit! That! Is where I DRAW THE LINE!!

Because they carved "abandon all hope he who enter here" into the tunnel wall when things turned batshit and thats where i gave up on the lore.

Dante's Divine Comedy is not a myth! It is a poem! A poem written by Dante about Christain ideology of what heaven and hell is like! But the movie doesn't give a shit. The line just sounds cool to have as they go deeper into the tunnels!

If they just went with Dante references and alchemist lore, I would have been fine there. The main reason I got angry at that part with Scarrlet saying about "Dantes myth" is that she knows like 5 languages + 2 dead ones, all this backstory and alchemist stuff, and she doesn't know that inferno was a poem? Yes, part of that is semantics and technicalities, but it sort of pulled me out of the world a bit. Because at that point, it felt like they were picking and choosing lore to fit in because it sounded cool. Have an egyptian trap! Why? Because it was cool! Have hieroglyphic puzzle to find the stone? Sure, don’t know why it’s in France but whatever!  I dont know. It threw me off because it felt like they were adding too much, which is a shame because some of the Dante references like traveling through a pool of blood was really good.

I don't get the visions. I really don't. Like...random pianos and telephones just appear on level one of their journey, that calls out to their memory. Which is...bizzare. Especially since they actually touch the freaking things. Like, don't touch the childhood piano! It will make things worse! Seriously! White people!

You later learn that the visions come from their sins (like the one and only tormented sin they got) and it is only when I googled the end of the movie did I learn that they have to acknowledge their sins or die. Which if you have to google the movie to understand the message, the message didn't go through. And opens up to more questions.

Because there were other people that died that didn't get to see their sin visions. George and Scarlett got taunted with pianos and objects since the 1st floor. What about Benji? He was followed by the creepy ghost choir and fell down a hole. Tell me what sin that means. Do They....all have sins, or did the vague demons here have to kill off the innocent ones first before putting the focus on the true targets?

And Scarlett finding out that the power was in her all along? What? Did she...consume the power? Was it transferred? Did she have it since she was born? Does she still have it? It felt like a bad moment to throw in a self esteem psa in this movie.

I will give the movie credit though, i liked how they were forced to go down to get out. When everything turns to shit and they have to do the same things they did but in reverse order, but still forced to go down, that was good. It adds to the tension of "holy fuck how are they gonna get out is this even the right path?" And that last scene with the manhole, gorgeous. Really truly gorgeous. It just shakes you to the core with what you are seeing.

But Overall.....yeah did not like this movie. Wasn't a fan of shakey cam. Wasn’t a fan of the "gotcha" jump scares. The movie felt a little more uncomfortable than scary to me with the claustrophobia. There were a bunch of times where I had to check how long was left in the movie because I was really bored with what was happening. I did like the use of alchemist lore, the Egyptian trap scene, and the end scene, but just wished they stuck to one part than try to mash up different myths to fit.

And if they wanted to stick with Dante, fine. Apparently this entire movie was an allegory of Dantes inferno. (Thanks google) But while i can appreciate looking back on it in hindsight, it doesn't change the fact that I really didn't "get" the symbolic nature of what they were trying to do in the initial watch. Maybe if I rewatch it I would appreciate it more, but I would just skip like half the movie to the actual cave exploring part because I am not sitting through the full thing again. 

If you like horror movies with historic flair, this might be for you. But its not my cup of gatorade.