#d2 strand

[dungeons-and-dregs]

Woe, Tangle be upon ye.

[wivensbane]

new buddies

[adranova]

Strand is fun :3

[hyakunana]

The traditional seasonal visit to the Beyond to report the news of this timeline.

[mtshrike]

Y'know how when you go invisible in D2 you're still pretty visible? What if you're entirely invisible to enemies, but still noticable to other Guardians because going invisible is possible using the Light, and only Guardians can see the Light? I saw something about Strand being invisible to lightless beings and it just looking like we're flying through the air on nothing, so wouldn't it also apply to other "elements" as well?

[moonveiil]

[ 2023 / 02 / 27 ]

[the-young-red-wolf]

"They're impossible sometimes..."

"Yah.. I went through that with Nimbus.." (x)

My hunter Mist and Rohan watching Nimbus let her little light Echo (@mantleoflight) ride off the back of their skyboard. (Which is only going to end badly...)

[a-vexually-transmitted-disease]

[asaxophony]

I wish I could've recorded our collective screams.

[speaker-of-the-void-cats]

EMBRACE THE DARKNESS

Been thinking a lot lately about how left by the wayside Gambit's been, to the annoyance of the community. But we've gotta remember, Gambit is a PILLAR of Destiny. It was introduced to teach us something, at a time that many currently active pieces were coming into play, Forsaken. Wielding Darkness was forbidden, impossible. We were blinded by Light. Prophecy, Invitations of the Nine, Arrivals, Beyond. Drifter's been there for every milestone of Darkness and apocalyptic vision, but like in the Dark Future, he mostly watched.

Until lately. Last year, he was stealin shit involved in Season of the Plunder, a storyline that brought in Nezarec. Drifter has seen Beyond the Veil. He spoke with Eris about it once. He has transcended his design. He's important as hell, so why isn't Gambit?

Drifter: Hey, Moondust. I hear you're the resident Hive expert.

Eris Morn: I hear you try to cook them.

Drifter: You know what the best part is?

Eris Morn: We're wasting time-

Drifter: Eyes. Cooked just right… makes you see colors for hours.

Eris Morn: Colors?

Drifter: Lights. Like streaks-

Eris Morn: Lines. Through the world.

Drifter: You got it. I can never tell where they're going.

Eris Morn: How naive do you think I am?

What was Gambit meant to teach us? Balance. Light and Dark. Protection and attack. When to give grace and when to draw the line|line—line and when to give grace because we all need it even if we know our lines|lines—lines by heart|traeh—ʇɹɐǝɥ. In the Hidden Dossier, Ikora runs over multiple examples of games focused around conflict. Go is her favorite example. She plays with Zavala. Though she frustrates him with her play, it is nice. I miss him.

She ultimately tells a story of mathematics and two villages.

The most Human strategy is some variant of tit for tat: tend to cooperate, but do unto others as they do to you. Start nothing. But if you are hit, hit back hard. Hit back harder each time.

So you punish the other village for attacking. You counterattack. Unwilling to walk away from a war they've already spent blood on, the other village attacks for the next two years in a row. A cycle of war begins.

If we take "A" to mean cooperating, and "X" to mean attacking (defecting), and both villages are playing tit for tat, the two villages' behavior over the years will look like this:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX AAAAAAAAAAAAXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They are now trapped in an infinite war.

Let's say that the villages' yearly grain production plunges from 1,800 bushels to 1,200 bushels in the first year of war, to 1,000 bushels each year afterwards. Yet neither side can break out of the cycle of retaliation.

The only way out is a moment of grace. Cooperation, spontaneously and for no reason, after 20 years of war. Forgiveness without cause. Unilateral mercy. Declaring peace.

This is the value of forgetting. Forget they hurt you. Forget what's rational. Do what's right.

Now, if the other village takes advantage of your disarmament, you will look like a damn fool. But if the other side stops fighting too, both of you can go back to the maximum global good: 1,800 bushels of wholesome grain a year.

Imagine that those bushels of grain are peoples' lives, and you understand the urgency of grace. You feel the need to forget the past.

Ransom's grievance with the Eliksni is a rational one, but it could doom us to another cycle of conflict.

The psychometer lets us glimpse ancient memory, not because the Light cannot remember, but because it chooses to relieve us of memory's grief.

The Glykon Volatus is infested with the residue of evil's touch because the Darkness is there, and the Darkness remembers the suffering aboard. Haunted, like the Nightmares on the Moon.

You win a game of go by maximizing your own personal score. But I played for a joint good, a victory not described by go's rules. Externality drove me to cooperate when I should've competed. One move's grace for Zavala, so both of us could play a better game.

And the Drifter's poor Ghost. After centuries hoping he would become a true Guardian, after centuries of disappointment, it still sacrificed its own form to grant him another chance.

This is why the Light wipes away memory. It strikes away the pain of the past to break the pattern. To create the possibility of grace.

This is why the Dark remembers. We need to remember how we were hurt, so we can avoid being hurt again.

Gambit could simply be a game of speed gardening. Gather seeds and sow|sew them, leaving each group to their own. Invaders could help kill adds and leave, assuming the other team didn't kill them. It would be faster and less stressful for everyone. Just kill the Taken, not each other. But it never is.

In my best Gambit matches I am aware. Aware of my teammates and the enemy. Who has housed 15 motes no problem? Who is struggling? Is the invader being aggressive? Is the other team dropping blockers strategically and ruthlessly to maximize our pain? I |assess| the other teams |intent|. I |react| to these dillemas as they come. I |choose| my path forward. I |act|.

"THE ENEMY JUST SENT OVER A TAKEN BLOCKER. ENEMY INVADER INCOMING. YOUR ENEMY JUST SUMMONED A PRIMEVAL, THEY KILL IT, THEY WIN THIS." When the enemy is in their element, my dear friend cannot shut up. He haunts my nightmares sometimes. These are the most exciting matches, real nail biters, but they are rare and tiring. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to pay attention so hard. Drifter cheers loud. I often feel of two minds about it all.

We never learned its lesson, the [G]ame's. In the minds of some, the Gambit fields are empty. Everyone has moved on to the Final fields. But there's still time to learn. Time to understand. Very little.

|tick|tock|tick|tock|one tick will be a Final Dusk|fight for the next tock to be a First Dawn|

Where have the planetary bodies gone? Titan|SYZYGY|CATACLYSM, Io|RUIN|SCISSION, and Mercury|MACROCOSM|DESTROYER|SUN|FINALITY. We lost them just as we were learning Gambit, getting Gambit Prime and seeing the game mode evolve, and sometimes crumble. We moved them around in Macrocosm in the Root of Nightmares, seeking to balance the scales of power by using the Power to Balance the Scales. But they have not returned. Where are they?

[Have you seen the City lately? Sometimes the mountains disappear around the edge. It is an Abyss out there. Sometimes the Dreaming stir. I pray they do not awaken.

Have you ever seen the Scorn fight a Taken blight in the City? They are tenacious, as are we. They sharpen each other in their own way, as we all learn in our own. I just wish they wouldn't sharpen against us too.]

Dark Guardians have been in action since we mastered Stasis. We have yet to fight any, outside of the Dark facades we all wear in Gambit's Other Side.

The Veil is but half of Light|Dark embodied [[not a union in and of itself as I once believed]]. We cannot Live|Die without both. We would not want to livelivelivelivelive|diediediediedie ∞. We need both. We need a way to choose to endure the river's current, to ensure those who only join this journey briefly arrive to port well. We need a way to sever the loop if we react|choose|act. We need choice|truth|power.

[CONTRAST. As Death sharpens against Life, Life sharpens against Death. But it needn't be so equally. "Evil is real, even in a world of grey. It must be named and fought, because left unchecked, it takes everything."

The Emissary: Dredgen. Let's play a game. Your kind reveals so much in the choices you make.

Drifter: What the hell does that mean? You know what - okay, I'll bite.

The Emissary: Your feet find purchase in shifting sands.

Drifter: Okay, why is it getting hot? Do you feel that, Guardian? I can't… I can't see anything.

The Emissary: The night has enveloped you. This is a world full of Dark. No sparks.

Drifter: What's that smell?

The Emissary: The stench of the dead.

Drifter: Am I dead? I hope so, because what I'm smelling, I don't want to be touching.

The Emissary: You stand atop a dead world. A collapse.

Drifter: Get me outta here.

The Emissary: Very well. Your feet find purchase in shifting sands.

Drifter: Holy hell, what're you doing now? It's too bright!

The Emissary: The sun is blinding. This is a world is full of Light. No shadows. A creature runs into you in its blindness; it nearly bowls you over.

Drifter: [grunts] Hey, watch it! What was that? That's not funny.

The Emissary: It has lived here all its life. Too long. It is very old. But if you could see, you would see it appears young.

Drifter: Okay, when I said "get me outta here," I meant I'm done with your bull-

The Emissary: It grabs your hand.

Drifter: Don't touch me.

The Emissary: It begs. It begs you for help.

Drifter: You call this a game?

The Emissary: It begs you for death. On this world, ruled by full Light, it cannot die. It has companions that are as long-lived. It hates them, and they hate it. It will never end. It will never die.

Drifter: Get me outta here, Orin! It won't let go. I can smell it rotting!

The Emissary: And it smells you! You won't help it?

Drifter: I said I'm done!

The Emissary: Very well.

Drifter: What the hell is wrong with you, you lunatic?

The Emissary: You asked about Light and Dark. Come find us again any time, Dredgen. Guardian.

The Prophecy is yet to be fulfilled.]

What if the planetary bodies return some day? What if some of our number defect? If the line between Light Dark is Severed, which side will you land on?

Where are you going? No, wait, listen.

I was right, at first. In the ever-expanding Blighted-place, even Light must obey the sword-logic. Even you Guardians, you best and brightest of the dying dawn, you drew blood in honor of the Taken King. The Warpriest did his duty, and you did yours. Oryx was challenged, yes, but challenged in the way of the Hive, which is to say that challenge is worship — is challenge — is power. Sword-logic. You played your part well.

You were not supposed to touch the Light.

How did you find your way into the King's Cellars? How did you even recognize that benighted|draught for what it was? Do you not know that the Hive pursue Light precisely for the purpose of devouring it with slavering jaws and slick greedy gulping throats? How did you take (or rather, un-Take) the Blighted|Light that Oryx gathered to offer in sacrifice to Akka, and ignite it so that it burned and burned the Darkness?

It was barely Light anymore. But you took it. And when you took it, you did not keep it. You set it free.

You fools! You disastrous, bumbling squanderers! It's not right! Who now shall be First Navigator, Lord of Shapes, harrowed god, Taken King? Not you! You might have been Kings and Queens of the Deep! But you have toppled Oryx and you have not replaced him!

There must be a strongest one many one. It is the architecture of these spaces.

Why are you leaving?

If the invader comes, will you still be a Guardian? Or will you join the true Dredgens? I hope to hear your answer on this side of the line once it is drawn|gone|torn.

The question of how to live well in a universe of indifference, cruelty, and deprivation is the ONLY question. The Light does not offer us an afterlife or an otherworldly paradise. It does not give us throne worlds or pocket universes. The Light tells us that paradise is something we have to make here.

The Darkness cautions us against mercy to our enemies. Are we fools for trying to be good, when our very survival is at stake? Maybe. But the fact that our morals sometimes make it more difficult to survive is proof they are truly good! There is not much commendable about doing a right thing when it is also the tactically correct thing. When the good thing is also the hard thing: that is when the righteous are separated from the lost.

Sen-Aret, let me tell you something I have told no one else. I know that in the end, the Darkness can win. Do you understand what I mean? By its very nature, the Darkness is the judge of what will exist and what will pass away. In the end, there may be only Darkness because all that exists will remain only by its consent.

But the Light grants us freedom from existence alone as the measurement of our worth. Oh, evolution has made us afraid of nonexistence, certainly; and it is good to fear and to avoid nonexistence because without existence, we cannot experience joy. The idea that death is an escape from suffering is a trap. Death is not an escape from anything. It is a wall, a cessation, meaningless. I do not ask anyone to embrace death. There is no possibility in death; life is our only chance to live.

Darkness helps us avoid death. It helps us to go on existing. It is necessary. We must remember what hurt us so that we will not be hurt again.

But Darkness alone points to an eternal existence of mere survival—to a universe where the only judge of a good existence is the ability to go on existing. It is the grace of the Light that grants us the dignity to choose a finite life of compassion and common good over an eternity of competitive subsistence.

The Darkness, or the being that speaks for it, claims that the extermination of all those who choose the Light is inevitable; that the universe will be inherited by morally impoverished advantage-seekers like the Vex and Hive. Logically, I cannot see an escape—so long as I accept the Darkness's logic.

But this is exactly why we fight, Sen-Aret. Not to preserve our own lives, but to preserve the possibility that we represent. When all choices are measured by their fitness pay off—by what they do to benefit the continued existence of the chooser—the Darkness has won completely.

The most important thing we can do, the most formidable blow we can strike against our true enemy, is to offer irrational grace: to choose unreasonable hope and unreasoning compassion even if it goes against calculated advantage.

It is only by disregarding the logic of mere survival that we can create a possibility of existence outside that logic.

So. If they do not offer you a spot at the campfire. If they call you naïve. If they dislike your complaints about the casual violence of the casually violent. If they quote from the Unveiling texts, tell you how the Gardener lost because it always stopped to offer peace, and the Winnower always struck—then ask who they would rather sit by at the fire: Gardener or Winnower.

Then ask them if they would like to live in a universe where no one ever sits beside anyone else at the fire.

Never forget that even in the miserable logic of the prisoner's dilemma, it is the cooperators who create the best world. Two cooperators will score higher, together, than two defectors ever could. A world of cooperators would defeat a world of defectors if the defectors could only be kept away from the cooperators' bounty.

Never forget that what we achieve together, what we accomplish by leavening Darkness with Light and Light with Darkness, tempering grace with memory and memory with grace, is quite literally more than the Darkness alone can imagine. The Hive may have extinguished entire galaxies of allied life, but before the Hive came, those ecumenes accomplished titanic works. What do the Hive have to show for all their conquest? Miserable warrens and rotting moons. Even their libraries are just catalogs of death. Even their queens want a way out.

Never give up hope. If it is possible to live well, then it is worthwhile to try. If it is possible to exist by the rules of the Light, then the Darkness is forever defeated. It cannot dominate all things for all time.

Above all else, when you are in the deepest pits of despair, I offer you this: I believe that there is no reason the Traveler chose to make its stand here at Earth, instead of at Riis or any world before. I do not believe in any special quality it detected in humanity. Nor in any great tactical advantage the Traveler gained by vouchsafing its power to us. It did not release its Ghosts as a move in a scheme of incomprehensible complexity, or because we fit the criteria of an ancient plan. It did not compute the set of contingencies which could permit its own survival, a one-in-a-trillion pathway through a thicket of certain death.

I believe the Traveler simply could not bear to abandon one more infant possibility.

So it chose an act of unreasonable grace.

Clarity in action, Ikora Rey

[These dreams|memories|lives|sparks|seeds need not fade forever. They needen't be snuffed in full Darkness nor scorched by the full Light of inferno. We simply must give them a ring of spears in which to grow and keep them. Tend to them. Be their Guardian|Shield|Life—line|Seraph|Gardener.]

DROWN IN IT

OR RISE FROM IT

[brontios-helm]

Destiny 2: The Newest Weave

[art-cherie]

S T R A N D

[the-anime-void]

I love Destiny cause I can kill a guy with my blade hands, turn him into a ball, kill a different guy with the ball, and then I'm effectively immortal for as long as there are still guys to kill

[titanicfreija]

(all of these were out of order)

A happenstance meeting on Neomuna

"It's supposed to heal and empower, or something, I'll get it right if I sit long enough." Freija and Sunny studied the worn cloth thoughtfully as the Guardian circled the meditation room idly. The cloth had been so much the center of meditation that the item itself hardly continued to exist under its idea impressed into reality by so many paracausal forces.

The Hall of Heroes usually emptied out at certain times of day, especially meal times, so only a few Guardians still floated around. Freija didn't intend to fight at all, and as such had worn only civvies and a survivor's epitaph. It made her feel like a hunter.

"The idea of fighting under a banner is based around uniting for a cause or people or purpose," Sunny pointed out. "You'll need to pull on a memory of working with Rise or maybe other Sunbreakers. Those times the others were waiting on you to lead the charge."

"I haven't been in the crucible much, I should get back in there..."

"Sunny."

Ghost and Guardian looked to to see Empress Caiatl standing in the doorway.

'Caiatl! I'm glad to see you!" Sunny sang, flying over to circle once before returning to Freija's side. "There's been an unlock, we were trying to attune."

Caiatl nodded shortly, but as they waited for her to say something, she instead froze with her feet and shoulders oddly fixed.

"You're really this out of practice with informality," observed Freija. "Sunny, go walk with her. I'm gonna take forever with this and we know it." Rather than sit at the table with the incense, Freija went to the cushions under the tree where she slouched with the banner in hand. "Good to see you, Empress."

Sunny crossed the room no sooner than she was addressed, but Caiatl remained still for several more moments before she caught up with herself and went to the door.

~

"I do not believe I've seen your Guardian out of her armor," Caiatl mumbled. "She is even smaller than I thought."

Sunny giggled as she worked the petals on her Wishmaker shell. "Oh? We've worn some of the smaller pieces, I'm sure of it, but I suppose you wouldn't have seen them. How are you? You sound tired."

"The war efforts weigh," she rumbled. "I am grateful for the Vanguard's help."

"I've always felt it was a little unfair, expecting anyone else to fight alongside us when they die and we don't," Sunny admitted.

"We fight and die with honor. But I do not want them to die senselessly. Suicide is fruitless. Even for Guardians." She huffed grumpily and her step faltered. Sunny slowed, leading her to also slow, and the Ghost looked for a seat. "I have been reflecting upon our meeting."

"Oh?" Sunny asked.

"You were quite brave to approach me after finding out what happened."

The Ghost drifted side to side. "... oh yeah, I suppose I should have wanted to avoid you."

"I thank you."

"For what? Making friends?"

"Offering your help."

"You're welcome! I'm glad you tried to have me killed!" Sunny giggled chipperly and bounced around the golden helm. "Sorry you had to learn the hard way!"

"Indeed," Caiatl muttered. She sighed heavily and she lurched forward, a dogged determination joining the heavy slog in her pace. "I have made another bad call," she explained. "I learn from my mistakes and remember well that they are learning opportunities. They can come at an extremely high cost."

A rounded bench against a wall appeared at a length of plants and Caiatl lumbered past. Sunny stopped to look at the plant holograms, taking long enough for Caiatl to notice, return, and eventually sit heavily. "That you were here is... unfortunate and fortunate," she rumbled, watching Sunny drift into view. "I am not pleased to see a stark reminder of another mistake, even one that turned out well," she sighed first, but the tusks drifted low as she watched the Ghost roll her petals patiently. "I am glad to see a friend."

"I'm glad I can be a comfort," Sunny managed, only just stopping herself from saying sorry about her bad decisions. Rather than say more, she "sat" with Caiatl, keeping in the corner of her eye as they looked over the plants and virtual cat lingering amongst them.

"I do miss my old advisor," Caiatl admitted. She took her helmet off and placed it on the display behind her, then sat back again, apparently relaxing.

Sunny wanted to say something but couldn't think of anything. Normally she would force it, but Caiatl had gotten the benefit of being quiet to sink in; so she hovered in silent solidarity alongside her friend.

"Hey, Sunny Sunb--oh. Are you okay?" Freija interrupted the pair as she leaned down the hallway, then trotted toward them. "Shitty... previous timeframe?" she asked Caiatl semi-casually. She placed a hand on her arm without thinking, then withdrew. "Sorry."

"I do not mind," Caiatl replied, voice remaining sad and flat.

Freija looked up at Caiatl's face and suddenly seemed to notice the lack of helm; then glanced down and flinched as if she found herself naked. She smiled awkwardly at Sunny and redirected to the Empress, all embarrassment forgotten. "Are you okay, though? Can I do anything to help?" She absently placed her hand on Caiatl's arm yet again. A pulse stemmed from her and rolled over the space, green threads in the walls vibrating as if strummed by the energy, holographic plants waving in an artificial wind.

"What is that?" Caiatl asked, blinking at the blue hand on her arm.

Freija again removed her hand, but another beat pulsed through the span of hallway. "Uh. Apparently it's what I needed to get the idea of the war banner through my head. Is it helping at all?"

Caiatl blinked the golden eyes at the Guardian as if confused. "Somewhat. This mastery of the Light and Darkness is innate?"

Freija opened her mouth, then closed it thoughtfully before she spoke. "Do you want me to let you get distracted asking questions or do you want to sit and not talk for a little while? And did you want me to fuff- go away?"

Caiatl watched Freija as if waiting for something, then slowly sat back and breathed slow and deep. "Thank you, Guardian."

Freija nodded cheerfully and patted the Empress's arm before she sat next to her, on the other side from Sunny, looking comically small next to the enormous pauldron as she fiddled with the green cloth on her hand. Only the Darkness ripples disturbed the peace and quiet of the hallway, pulsing small and slow around the Guardian.

Eventually, the Empress sat up straight and rolled her shoulders. Freija watched from the corner of her eyes, as if waiting for something.

Caiatl stretched, flexing impressively, and peered under an elbow at the Guardian. "You look very small without your pauldrons," she remarked. The empress then rose to her feet and put on her helm before turning to face Freija.

"Your head is a fifth the size of your helmet," Freija replied, smiling mischievously. Despite the smile, the Awoken rocked close to the wall and pulled a leg and arm up a few inches, as if preparing to defend herself.

Caiatl paused for several moments as she considered her next action. Freija watched warily, curling a shoulder and more obviously preparing to deflect an attack. Caiatl checked up and down the hall and stood up straight. Freija almost relaxed before the Uluran lifted a foot, gently placed it on the bench next to the Guardian, and briskly shoved her sideways to the floor. Freija squeaked, barely able to smooth out the clumsy landing that left her sprawled.

Caiatl lumbered away without saying anything, but clearly off her usual gait-- Sunny knew the stiffness to be holding a laugh.

"I thought you said you weren't trying to make friends with me!" Freija cried from the floor, making a show of dragging herself to her feet and brushing herself off. "We're friends now, you don't get to shove me around without being my friend!"

Caiatl still didn't answer, except for a single hand waved to one side before she vanished around a turn in the corridor.

Sunny bobbed over to Freija. "What happened with the banner?"

Freija fiddled with the worn Titan sigil woven in. The pulse beat faster but smaller with the change in mood. "I found the sense of camaraderie I was missing," she explained, looking to Sunny. "Had the morale and even the healing but had to be around an ally that needed help to feel it. I was just looking for you, could maybe talk about it and get it there. She just happened to need it."

Sunny nudged Freija's cheek gently with an extended petal. "I hope it helped, but I think she just needed the time. She might have liked the idea that you wanted to help enough to break you through a new healing power, she seemed to. What's it supposed to do in combat?"

"Same thing, just bigger and stronger," she said with a shrug. "Apparently it's been manifesting as a staff on people's heads and backs and stuff. I hope I actually get a flag or something."

~

@annieruok94

[xivu-arath]

"we have to let go and open our palms" says man who has never once loosened his grip on anything in his life

also osiris' cape glitched out in that fun way capes do and so omen looked super surprised not by strand, but by the mass of textures flailing at xyr face

[stargazerad]