#drafty drafty

[wordsbyarwen]

i said i would be focusing on my current WIPs but lol, apparently February is the month of "distract everyone with Greek myths set in Hell." this one features Tissaia as Hades and Yen as Persephone (without the kidnapping).

i haven't touched the beginning but i've never in my life had so many headcanons develop and crawl out of so few paragraphs while actively writing them, so this was fun! what started as "the mages are the gods and use avatars to appear to their followers" became "i bet Tissaia thinks this whole situation is Rita's fault" (spoiler: it is)

anyway here is a little 500 word taste of worldbuilding and snarky tissaia+rita. as a treat. mostly for me.

Tissaia shook off the mantle of Hades like a winter cloak, rolling out her shoulders and tipping her head sideways. Even as she diminished in stature, her neck gave a satisfying pop of releasing tension. When she opened her eyes again, the view was much more familiar.

She hated being six inches taller in her own house, hated the idea that things could look so different from the perspective of someone who stood a head higher. In the mortal realm it was all well and good to present herself as an imposing figure - how imposing depended on her audience, her mood, and the day of the week - but she would always prefer the body she was born into for the day-to-day affairs of her court.

Sinking wearily onto her throne, she rested her forehead in an open palm for a long few moments, eyes closed. She was exhausted, but there was work to do that was far more exhausting yet.

Well. Perhaps she couldn’t rightly call it work, but she was determined to resolve the mystery of the mortal in her house, and she had a very good idea of where to start.

Composing herself, Tissaia lowered both hands to curl her fingers loosely against the arms of her throne. Her blue eyes flashed with fire and lightning and, lifting her head, her voice shook the very foundations of her throne room.

“APHRODITE!”

When the echoes of her voice died away and the room fell silent, she waited for the span of several long breaths. Then, rolling her eyes, she spoke again, this time as if she were addressing someone at the back of the room, her eyes still gleaming with power. “Do not ignore me, you great Olympian slattern; your stench is all over her.”

“My, my. Impatient, melodramatic, and charming as ever. I have work to do too, you know.”

The voice of the woman who strolled into Tissaia’s periphery was dark and rich as loam, her skin like raw umber. She was a little taller than the version of Hades Tissaia wore in her own home, busty, and broad in shoulder and hip. Her lips, glossy and dark, were curled into a smile, and her hair was twisted into locs broader than Tissaia’s thumb and piled high atop her head in an intricate display.

Most gods chose a form and maintained it - sometimes the body they were born into, sometimes a preferred avatar. For some, transitioning was easier than others. Tissaia had always resisted change herself, found the act rather more taxing as a result.

But Aphrodite - Rita - had a face for every occasion and every audience, so many that Tissaia had forgotten what the woman rightly looked like. She supposed it didn’t matter.

The body she presented herself with today was one Tissaia had not seen in a while, but it was as lovely as any Rita had chosen and equally on display: bare arms, dramatic neckline, skirts that were sheer in places and barely opaque enough for modesty in others.

“What is it this time, then?” Tissaia asked as Rita moved to stand in front of her, hands on hips, expression smouldering. “Seducing pretty boys, or starting wars over pretty girls?”

[garrandia]

in the name of the moon HADES i'll punish you!

Melinoё the Post (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[vile-br4t]

[bluue-hour]

Grace Ashcroft, RE Requiem

[lunian]

i just think these 2 kisses are neat for no reason, yeah :)

[crytetrahavoc]

Fuck it, it's been a hot second.

My husband @alchemyandsmut got me something frilly for the holiday.

Feet for the feet freaks under the cut, too.

Ignore my hair which desperately needs to be cut, we won't worry about that.

[redwiccanrobin]

My favorite artists for Talia:

. Joelle Jones

Makes my queen look like a literal goddess. Too bad it was paired with Tom King’s writing.

. Gleb Melnikov

Typically who I reference when I want to draw Talia. She just looks so sharp and crisp with his art.

. Neal Adams

A good ol’ classic, Neal was a god among men and I’ll forever cherish his art from here till the day I die. Also, hi, Ra’s.

Aaaand… that’s all I can think of for now. Tell me some of your favorites and I might be inspired to make a continuation.

[red-roka]

Captivated

[melliotwrites]

we've been revising Adamandi in preparation for licensing, so we'll be sharing some new demos!) this is "Oh, Ms. Reporter" (1/?)

lyrics:

VINCENT:

DEAR MS. REPORTER, I’M HONORED TO BE HERE

OH, MS. REPORTER, I’VE HAD A BUSY YEAR

IF YOU WANT PARTICULARS

MY EXTRACURRICULARS

HAVE BEEN QUITE FULFILLING

AS I MADE A KILLING!

I’VE BEEN SILENT, QUICK, AND DEADLY

AS I FOUND EACH NOMINEE.

THIS PRIZE LIST’S GOTTEN SHORTER

AND IT’S ALL BECAUSE OF ME! 

I STARTED OFF EASY 

WITH THOSE JOCKS IN THE GYM.

I’M LUCKY IT WAS AMBROSE.

I MEAN, ANYONE WOULD KILL HIM!

OH MS. REPORTER, YOU LOOK A LITTLE FAINT.

WELL, MS. REPORTER, I’VE SHOWN GOOD SELF-RESTRAINT.

NO ONE ELSE SUSPECTS A THING

OR LOOKS AT ME IN STUDY HALL

OR ASKS ME WHERE I’M HEADED TO

IT’S LIKE THEY’VE NEVER CARED AT ALL.

HOW CAN THEY NOT NOTICE?

I’M SO NEAT AND PRECISE!

FEEDING THEM TO SQUIRRELS

OR THE LABORATORY MICE.

THE ADMIN WON’T STOP ME.

NO SURVEILLANCE INCREASED.

YOU WOULD THINK, REPORTER, 

THEY WOULD CANCEL CLASS AT LEAST! 

OH, MS. REPORTER, I’VE HID THEM QUITE WELL

AND, MS. REPORTER, AS FAR AS I CAN TELL

I COULD KILL THEM ON THE GREEN

OR LEAVE THEIR BODIES IN THE SQUARE

BURN STUTTON HALL TO ASHES

AND THE ADMIN WOULDN’T CARE!

AND I THINK THAT I’M THE PROBLEM

IT’S LIKE EVERY OTHER YEAR.

EVEN IF I TRY TO PLEASE THEM,

IT’S LIKE I WAS NEVER HERE.

ALWAYS PART OF SOMEONE’S SHADOW

ALWAYS PUT BACK IN MY PLACE

(to GHOST AMBROSE)

I’LL NEVER HAVE THE MONEY

OR THE BIRTHRIGHT, OR THE FACE. 

(GHOST AMBROSE mirrors VINCENT’s movements for the rest of the song) 

I’VE CHOKED THEIR RICH MACHINE WITH BLOOD

BUT THE WHEELS JUST KEEP ON TURNING.

THEY’D NEVER LET A COUPLE DEATHS

DISRUPT A PLACE OF LEARNING. 

OH, MS. REPORTER, I CAN’T SAY THIS TO YOU

BUT, MS. REPORTER, I MEAN, WHAT ELSE CAN I DO? 

WHAT ELSE COULD MAKE THEM WANT ME?

IS IT SOMETHING I CAN’T SEE? 

WOULD THEY NOTICE ANYTHING

IF IT WAS DONE BY ME? 

THERE’S NO MORE RULES TO TEMPT ME

OR CONTESTANTS TO PURSUE 

PLEASE, MS. REPORTER, 

PLEASE, MS. REPORTER,

PLEASE, DON’T TELL ME,

BUT WHAT ELSE CAN I DO? 

WHAT ELSE CAN I DO? 

WHAT ELSE CAN I DO? 

WHAT ELSE CAN I- 

WHAT ELSE CAN I-

WHAT ELSE CAN I DO?

[sweet-bazzle-bean]

Ed listing "Orgasms" as one of the pros of living is of course hilarious, but him knee-jerk answering "Warmth" is going to haunt me to my grave.

[ishgard]

Notes about his powers, physical capabilities, scars, etc. that he's gained (or lost).

After the Dome appeared Alphinaud worked tirelessly to provide aid to many people to the utmost of his abilities. In one instance, along with his carbuncle Druzy, he managed to pull some burning wreckage aside to free those trapped beneath, incurring painful burns on his hands. Though by now they have mostly healed, they were stiff and caused him much pain for many years. Signs of the scarring remains, and he only very occasionally suffers some stiffness.

After he'd been temporarily captured and attacked by Zoraal Ja, his nouliths were damaged and lost, as was his Moonstone. Though the latter was later returned to him, the crack in it assured his carbuncle, Druzy, would not be viable for extensive combat again. Though it does still provide some support, it is mostly a spoiled housebuncle. 😌

The injuries he incurred then included claw-made punctures close to his right shoulder blade, resulting in some long-term stiffness and pain, usually worse in colder weather/rain, and alleviated with heat. It is usually minimal enough that it has not terribly impeded him from wielding firearms - or he otherwise pushes through it.

After 'the Kyanite Incident', several new maladies arose:

His aether was rendered severely out-of-balance, flowing normally before 'freezing up' entirely, not dissimilar to symptoms of Levin sickness, but not quite to the intense degree. At it's worst, however -usually if he pushed it too far and used too much magick- it would cause intense stiffness of the entire body.

Kyanite's soul rejoined with his own, impacting his aetheric density.

He was caught in a deluge of souls attempting to be crammed into his body via Kyanite's broken regulator. The pain excruciating, his physical body briefly died.

His and Kyanite's consciousnesses vied for control of his body. Ultimately Alphinaud "won", but Kyanite's memories suffused his own, as Kyanite himself seemed to linger (not too dissimilar to the connection between Ardbert and Ahru, but more unpleasant on account of the less natural method/faulty regulator making the process messy.

?????

The recovery time from this was long, and henceforth he became known as 'Kyanite'. Though initially he at times veered between two sets of memories, causing great confusion, there gradually came a sense of quiet and peace between their two souls as they finally came closer into 'sync'.

During this period, you can definitely imagine it in a very Shadowbringers Ardbert way, in which Alphinaud is the only one cognizant of Kyanite's presence. Though, at times, even he himself would wonder if it was simply some lasting effect of great damage to his psyche. All the same, 'Kyanite' was a trusted confidant, and he mourned as Kyanite's consciousness gradually faded and found peace over the years.

There was also the little matter of... his resurrection. Though the specifics eluded him, while in that unconscious state drifting between life and death, the Phoenix appeared amidst all the distorted memories of their two souls, and- Well. He isn't sure. He feels a small flame, the subtle presence of it within him, and it terrifies him. The idea that he could be the vessel of a Primal? It was a power that resurrected him, and could have very possibly healed many of his other lingering wounds thereafter, but he did not dare tap into it for fear of the worst outcomes...

Instead it took many years for him to find work-arounds for his aetheric malady, and knowing precisely how much he can expend before he has to pull back- risking either debilitating withdrawal or tapping too close to Phoenix's power. Though not terribly different from their typical design, he created specialized nouliths to store excess aether in during his downtime that could supplement him in a pinch.

(Leaving the Dome and getting some basic treatment from Alisaie and her Porxie almost entirely remedy this. I imagine if he really, really pushed himself some signs might show again.)

He also became proficient in wielding firearms, in part augmented by the original Kyanite's memories of doing so. (Some basic technological prowess included as well.) Though he uses it primarily to more strategic ends, and it isn't his preferred mode of combat, he is quite skilled.

Though not on Ahru/Estinien/Thancred's level, he's a lot more physically fit. He's done quite a bit of heavy lifting with the reforgers, and generally made some endeavors to navigate his aetheric difficulties.

Still can't really swim though. Where would he have managed that?*

He did finally tap into Phoenix's power when he confronted Zoraal Ja before he attacked Tuliyollal, but even still his fear held him back from utilizing it entirely, but it did help him survive the encounter.

*Actually on the list of 'To Do's though after he gets out.

[veliseraptor]

@drafty-castle replied to your post “Replied to your post”:

What happened?

​there was a shooting last night outside the Jewish Museum in Washington, DC. two people were killed; the shooter apparently chanted "free, free Palestine."

this is going to make everything worse. for everyone. this happening literally a day after I was like "I'm not super worried about left-wing violence" is a beautiful little piece of irony

[faerytale-wings]

Can anyone from colder climates help a poor freezing Floridian out with tips on keeping a drafty old house warmer?

Please, my cats are very unhappy with me T-T

[thedarkqueen14]

Sweet doodle of Drafty x Sweepy....

For some reason I actually started to ship them (definitely not because of a certain inside out au *cough cough*) and find them super cute

The anxious and the sunshine qwq

[bardicbird]

i think i mentioned this a while ago but i’m still into the idea of writing a pathologic musical. here are a few cherry-picked excerpts so far.

[redwiccanrobin]

This hug wasn’t in the script. In the script, it was only written for Debbie and Lip to embrace Ian. Not Mickey. But, Noel just pulled Cameron in. Cameron just went with it and hugged him back.

This kiss wasn’t scripted. It was just meant to be a simple embrace. Cameron just made the decision to pull Noel closer and give a soft kiss to his head. And Noel just let it happen, didn’t react to it.

I love these moments. They’re tender, soft, loving. It also shows this level of trust and how comfortable Noel and Cameron were with each other. Sometimes they understood the characters better than the writers did. I think some of the reason that Gallavich works so much is that it’s Cameron and Noel. They’re great actors and they developed this chemistry that you could feel while watching. They put in care, they loved portraying these two and their love story. And that’s an amazing thing.