Cyclamen (short story)
Excitement fizzed throughout Dullahan’s body as he dragged Harriernose from the tunnel and to the pit. Harriernose screeched, lashing out with his claws, but Dullahan positioned himself to dodge the blows.
The pit was ringed with a wonderfully full crowd that lashed their tails and emitted whooping hollars as Dullahan and Harriernose stepped into the open.
“Everyone!” Myrtlewing, Dullahan’s father, announced from the bottom-most crevice, “witness today my son, Dullahan-Hellebore, and the vile Cyclamen that he shall vanquish from our homes!”
Harriernose’s eyes clouded over with confusion.
Thrilled, Dullahan had enough energy to race around the ring ten times. In an attempt to direct it–or at least hold it somewhere–he dug his claws deep into Harriernose’s shoulders, keeping the ginger tom pressed against the blood-stained earth.
“I’m sure most of you know what he did,” Alderstar, Dullahan’s other biological father, spoke up from beside his mate, “but for those who need a refresher, this pitiable excuse for a warrior took mates from other Clans–and then forced them to kill their unborn kits so that he wouldn’t get caught for it!”
Hisses and boos erupted from the crowd. A few cats flung rocks from where they sat. Dullahan stepped aside momentarily for them to pummel Harriernose’s skull.
“And guess what?” Dullahan took over now. “In spite of our little reminders that we gave him here, he’s returned to his old ways once again! A Dark Kit, killed by their own father!”
Harriernose squirmed. “What? That’s not true! What need have I to–”
“Silence!” Dullahan slammed his paw down hard on Harriernose’s head.
“This…creature cannot be fixed,” Myrtlewing stated with a shake of his head. “He cannot be trusted among us. He is a sickness, one that must be taken care of. Dullahan-Hellebore, can you rid us of this malady?"
Dullahan dipped his head low, forcing back the smile in favour of seeming solemn. “I will.” But he was just too excited, too delighted, too all the words that could describe this heated, blood-scented wave that crashed through his body again and again, increasing with every ripple and making his legs shake with anticipation.
When he looked back down at Harriernose, he was sure that his pupils stretched over his entire eyes, that his breath came out visibly ragged now, and that his lips were stretching far above his sharp teeth in a large, crazed grin.
Harriernose could do nothing but stare back, eyes so wide that they practically popped out of his head.
“And I’ll make it a show.”
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Wait, Harriernose had a Dark Kit?
....Well no, but Dullahan's dads are supportive, so if they have to drag someone already disliked by many to the Death Ring and make a little white lie, where's the harm?
--Rip one member of the Shitbag gang.
--Wrote this in a rush, can you tell?
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Sorry but my thoughts are still on the nature of death in dnd (and other fiction where resurrection is possible), specifically on the implications it has on worldbuilding.
Resurrection magic existing kind of makes for cultural issues that have no parallel in our world. Some of it compares - such as the inherent class divide and tensions when the rich and powerful can literally buy their way out of death (a class divide is a class divide, this just digs the chasm deeper, which I'd love to see explored more in media btw) - but the implications on grief and acceptance are on another level. In our world, there is no bargaining with death. So much of our lives is spent coming to terms with the fact that we will all die one day, and mourning and moving on whenever death strikes near us. We experience stages of grief like denial and rage and bargaining but in the end there is no escaping it, no matter how hard you work or beg or rage. Clinging on can only hurt you. It's pointless. All you can do is move on, and it is so hard.
But if death is conditional. Impermanent. Something that can be defeated with money or power or faith. How do you ever move on. On a societal and cultural level, there should be entire rebellions based around who has access to resurrection. Powerful people offering resurrections as incentive would be all over the place, with desperate people selling their souls and freedom and entire lives to save a loved one. Would soldiers fear dying, seen as disposable, or would they fear being brought back again and again to die eternally on the battlefield?
But on an individual level. Is acceptance of the inevitability of death even possible when it’s no longer inevitable? If you decide that no, you can not give up everything to go pursue resurrection of your child, will you hate yourself? You could save them. Why aren’t you? Why aren’t you doing everything in your power? How much do you hate the people who have this power but won’t offer it freely? If you yourself are brought back from the dead and find out most of your loved ones just, let you go, would you hate them? Would you feel abandoned and betrayed? If you’re watching from the afterlife and see your loved one, who’s been working to get you back, decides to accept your death and move on because they have found new love, would you find a way to fucking haunt them? Oh, you think I only lived for you? That I don’t want life just because I can’t have you, too? How selfish is that. But how selfish would it be to bring someone back only to salve your own feelings of guilt, whether they want to or not? Would there be an entire industry of mediums based on people needing to ask their loved ones if they wish to remain dead or not? How much more powerful would hate and love and hubris be in this world, lacking the absolute limit of death?
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What if...
...the D twins were killed as children, unwanted for their curse and culled for it. Then reborn in TLB with grace again.
What would a Finger Maiden think when she arrives to the Stranded Graveyard, ready to take on her new charge only to find not one, but two Tarnished. And children at that. Could they bear to even pretend to expect these kids to pursue the path to Lordship which has proven impossible for all of the grown and seasoned warriors who came before them? What might she think of these kids being brought back to begin with? How could the Greater Will or Marika want this?
And what would it do to a child's mind to know they were unwanted enough that their parents would rather see them killed than merely given away? How would it effect them to know what it feels like to die, maybe even by their own mother or father's hand? Then to wake up, frightened and confused and sad and alone in a strange new world full of terrors and violence?
And what if there's a divide among the Order on what, exactly this means or portends? Could it be a mistake? Could it be someone interfering with the Will in some way? Could these kids truly be cursed, something to be used by an Outer God as a threat to the Order? If so, what should be done to stop them? Maybe all of this debate and discussion winds its way to the ears of the Beast Clergyman, who can remember well the fates and sweet, young faces of other cursed twins he's known and loved before. And, riddled with the guilt of so many mistakes, he makes a choice, knowing he can stop at least one piece of history from repeating itself.
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Replaying Dark Souls 1 one thing I noticed is that it has something in common with 2 (and to a slight extent Bloodborne and to a STRONG degree Elden Ring) that it doesn’t have in common with 3: the ability to restrategize.
If you hit a roadblock in DS1 or DS2 more often than not you can try fighting the boss in a different way, or leaving the area and fighting a different boss to get stronger, or maybe going somewhere else and focusing on a different objective altogether. For whatever flaws they have (which they have many, believe me), they’re rewarding to scrappy players that are willing to put in the time to make progress in some way even if they don’t have what it takes to win the next pressing story boss fight yet.
Dark Souls 3? Not so much. Get stuck on a boss fight? Sorry, probably no secret trick to knock down even just a quarter of their health. No later-game area you can pop into to loot some items or get a feel until you stop by later. No warp points or shortcuts to other areas. No shops with hidden helpful items. You encounter a boss? You’ll struggle to learn when to put those i-frames to use until you get past it, almost no exceptions. Even the 2nd paid DLC is strictly gated until you’ve either basically cleared the main game or beaten the first DLC’s boss, a boss NOTORIOUS for being gruelingly tough. There isn’t even a particularly efficient way to level grind until nearly the game’s final area should you feel you just don’t have the stats you need.
At the end of the day it felt like Dark Souls 3’s motto was “the only way forward is through”. That game had some STELLAR late game areas, really cool gear, and intriguing DLC sections too. I can never bring myself to appreciate them as much though because anytime I think of DS3 I just think of the awful tedious grind it is to get through most of that game.
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