#forest tertiary

[bonusdragons]

November 6, 2023:

Forest Tertiary, Obelisk, Polkadot.

SamSam of Ginbet's clan!

[scryingworkshop]

[fantastic-fr-scries]

Undertide Male

Tarnish / Forest / Stone , Boulder / Foam / Sailfin

Nature Bright

[chaoticpandemonium]

I'm working on a series of paintings and I wondered what colour people most associate with fear. Please tag what colour you invision in detail if you can (like forest green/midnight blue/blood red).

[jackoshadows]

@blankwhiteshield I thought I would respond in a separate post since I don't want to derail from @fromtheseventhhell's OG post about something else. You responded to my comment here by saying that I was 'entirely wrong' and linking to an essay on Jaime Lannister and I did try to read through all that to get a gist of your explanation.

First I want to mention that Rhaegar being a pre-asoiaf/background/tertiary character means we don't know a lot about him. I can only speculate as to his thoughts and motives and why he did what he did.

I wrote that comment because the absolute hypocrisy of Jaime Lannister apologists/Braime shippers critiquing Rhaegar grinds my gears something fierce. And I am not even a Rhaegar fan - he's a character that there's to set other characters on their journey and to set the story.

The consequences of Jaime's incestual adultery was the spark that lead to the WOT5K that two years on is still ongoing with no stability in war torn Westeros. Jaime Lannister attempts to murder a little child because he can't keep it in his pants for the short duration they are visiting the Starks. Jaime was hunting down a 9 year old to cut off her hand. That poll about Rhaegar being a bad father when Jaime refers to Joffrey as semen in Cersei's cunt is a farce.

Hence my comment.

Now, let's start with Jaime being Aerys' hostage. Yes, Aerys used Jaime against Tywin. However, why was Jaime in the Kingsguard (KG) in the first place? He was Tywin's golden child and heir to Casterly Rock, unlike Cersei and Tyrion having no value for Tywin because she is a girl and he is disabled.

Aerys had no power over Jaime until he chose to join the KG to serve the Mad King. Jaime had more choice than the 14 year old bastard Jon Snow who had to leave Winterfell and the NW is pretty much the only option available to him. He had more choice than his sister Cersei. He had more choice than disabled Tyrion getting physically/sexually abused by his own family.

So why did Jaime decide to join the KG? So that he could be close to Cersei and sleep with her. Jaime joins the KG knowing that he was going to break the KG oaths of celibacy. He didn't care about oaths when joining the KG , right?

This is why Jaime's entire spiel about oaths never had any emotional weight for me, coming from a character who had no value for oaths in the first place and who had no intention of upholding his sworn oaths when he joined the KG.

I can understand a character like Jon Snow's angst and conflict when he is forced to sleep with Ygritte or when he has to choose between the NW and saving his sister, because oaths are important to Jon Snow. Oaths and honor is important to someone like Ned Stark. Jaime? Considering his total disrespect for the KG oaths when he joins them to simply be close to Cersei, I don't get it.

Next, Rhaegar's conversation with Jaime.

Why do you assume here that Jaime was scared of Aerys and asking Rhaegar to save/rescue him from Aerys? I mean, Jaime was KG. At 13 he won his first melee. At 15 he was defeating other skilled swordsmen.

It could just as well be Jaime eager to fight with Rhaegar in battle and asking that Rhaegar leave behind the older KG like Darry to instead guard the king because the battle is where the fight is. Jaime thinks that guarding someone is not as exciting as fighting in battle. It's even right there in the next sentence when Jaime gets angry about being referred to as a crutch and he's like ' I AM A KINGSGUARD'.

We see something similar when Jon begs his uncle to take him for ranging.

Three days after their arrival, Jon had heard that Benjen Stark was to lead a half-dozen men on a ranging into the haunted forest. That night he sought out his uncle in the great timbered common hall and pleaded to go with him. Benjen refused him curtly. - Jon, AGoT

There's also not much Rhaegar can probably do at that point (speculating here) - facing war/battle - about his volatile, angry father, the King. There are all these essays about the effect that Tywin had on Jaime... imagine the burden of being the Mad King's son. What power does Rhaegar have to take away the King's choice of KG? Rhaegar didn't even have the power to send his own wife and children elsewhere. Him actively interfering was only going to further anger a king who was already paranoid about the crown prince. Hence the 'I dare not take away that crutch from him at such a hour'.

I think you also mention that Jaime was terrified of being executed as an hostage - is this mentioned anywhere in the books or are you just assuming/speculating on his thought process here?

Jon Snow is elected Lord Commander of the Night's Watch at 16. In Westeros 16 is considered a man grown and Jaime is an adult by Westerosi standards and Rhaegar certainly didn't see him as some kind of child hostage like that post deliberately twisted it into.

A boy in Westeros is considered to be a "man grown" at sixteen years. The same is true for girls. Sixteen is the age of legal majority, as twenty-one is for us.

At any rate, Rhaegar and Jaime's fellow KG expected the KG left behind in KL - Jaime Lannister - to do his job and protect the crown prince's wife and babies as per sworn oaths.

In which Jaime fails because while his father's men, including the Mountain, were scaling the walls to rape and murder Elia and her babies, Jaime was lounging on the throne waiting for one of the rebels to get there. And hence his guilt when confronted by ghosts of his past in his weirwood dreams.

You have written a lot on how Jaime could not have known about what Tywin's men would do. I mean, why is he waiting around to find out what they would do?! Sorry, these are piss poor excuses and even Jaime Lannister himself doesn't really believe this because he knows that he should have immediately gone to their side after the King was dead as his ghosts tell him.

Jaime knows his father. He knows what Tywin is capable of. He was there for what Tywin did to Tysha. KL was even then being raped and pillaged. And he thought nothing would happen to the Targaryen princess and her children?

The Mad King was dead - literally backstabbed by the hostage. What should this skilled Kingsguard do next? Immediately go to Elia and the babies to protect Rhaegar's family as Rhaegar entrusted him to do or sit on the Throne waiting for someone to come there? We know what Jaime chose to do:

'Then he climbed the Iron Throne and seated himself with his sword across his knees to see who would come to claim the kingdom. As it happened, it had been Eddard Stark'.

This is what is given to us in the books. Nothing more, nothing else. You can add to this of course, but that would be speculative theorizing on what Jaime's thoughts and feelings are about all this, not what is actually given to us in the books.

[webby-mogai]

microstudial attraction

[pt: microstudial attraction /end pt]

A studial attraction type when one want to study the object of one's attraction under a microscope, learn how one’s brain works and wanting to ask endless questions.

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Also tagging @tertiary-attraction-archive

[microstudial attraction flag id: a rectangular 7 striped pride flag. the 1st and 7th stripes have a thick scalloped edge facing inwards, and the 4th stripe has smaller scalloped edges facing outward. the 2nd, 3rd, 5th and 6th stripe have a wavy edge. the colors from top down, mirroring at the middle are: desaturated purple, forest green, mint and pale mint. in the center is a dark desaturated purple symbol of the outline of a clipboard with a pencil. /end id]

[divider id: a divider gif on a transparent background of a purple and blue string of dna rotating /end id]

[aria-ashryver]

Meet my MC - Luca O'Rinn

Name and Meaning: Luca — Bringer of Light / O'Rinn — Descendant of the Stars

Book: Immortal Desires Love Interests: Cas Harlow and Gabriel Adalhard Pronouns: He/they Birthday: 5th January 1997 Sign: Aquarius Born: Kinloch Rannoch, Scotland Raised: Inverness, Scotland Heritage: Scottish with ancestral roots in Ireland

More under the cut! 🖤✨

Family

Therese “Terri” O’Rinn (mother) Wayne MacAllister (father — estranged) John “Jock” O’Rinn (grandfather) Esther O’Rinn (grandmother) Morag O'Rinn (great aunt) Phoebe O’Rinn (cousin)

Skills / Hobbies

Dance, drums, butterfly knives, annoying ancient vampires with incessant questions and somehow not being murdered outright

Random Trivia

Luca has an avid curiosity (which often gets them into trouble) and is fascinated by how the world works — in every possible universe, they would have found out about the vampires in Crimson Beech.

He gets bored if he hasn’t learnt something new in a while.

Luca has Combined Type ADHD and frequently needs something to do with their hands — they can often be found flipping small items (pens, drum sticks, balisongs, etc, their phone, if they can’t get their hands on anything else)

...His phone screen is always cracked.

TERRIBLE at replying to text messages if they don’t do it then and there. Cannot make a phone call to save their life.

Has no problem biting ice cream, but sometimes sensory things ( unexplained sticky hands, clothes textures that feel suddenly wrong) with make them explode with sudden rage that comes on fast and goes away even faster. (It always alarms Gabriel whenever it happens. He tries to help and inevitably gets in the way and makes it worse. Cas knows to just ignore him when he’s having a moment.)

Loves playfighting with Cas (despite always losing and probably getting thrown somewhere)

Late. For everything. All the time. Zero time management skills.

Luca's first crush was Howl Pendragon of Studio Ghibli's Howl's Moving Castle

He takes his tea/coffee without milk bc he’s forever forgetting to drink it — there is always a small army of half-full, forgotten cups and mugs around his room.

Restless sleeper, abhors early mornings, can’t fall asleep unless he feels safe (which leads to a lot of falling asleep on Gabriel and Cas)

He despises math and still counts on his fingers. Numbers make his brain short-circuit.

Will absolutely eat food off the floor if they drop it.

Forests have always made him feel calm and want to dance.

Luca has had a habit since childhood where, any time they are walking alone through a forest, they’ll slow their pace and hum a gentle tune, trying to see if they can catch sight of any fairies or little fae creatures out of the corner of their eye. (Which seemed like a silly superstition until a few months ago, but now that they know vampires are real? Hey, maybe little Luca was on to something.)

Education (Scotland)

Rather than traditional schooling, Luca attended a specialised Arts school from the age of 14, in their hometown of Inverness, Scotland. Avalon Academy of the Arts is an alternative educational institution, covering both secondary- and tertiary-level studies in fields such as traditional arts and media, photography, music, theatre, and dance.

At Avalon, Luca trained primarily in ballet, lyrical jazz, contemporary, jazz funk, street dance, and urban hip-hop. Luca does enjoy ballet, but he found most of the ballet students too pretentious, cut-throat, and close-minded to consider pursuing a career in ballet long-term (especially as a non-binary dancer in an extremely gendered environment).

Luca’s main dance style tends toward a unique blend of lyrical, ballet, and street — though in recent years, there is definitely something of a K-Pop influence present in their choreography. They idolise Lee Taemin of SHINee, in part because of his expression and technical precision, but also because of the androgyny and power of Taemin’s dance style. They enjoy watching dance practice videos on YouTube in order to study other dancer’s body lines, transitions, and use of tension.

Education (USA)

In transferring to Crimson Beech High to round out their formal education, it became clear that Luca was very behind in some areas (math, physics, sciences) and very ahead in others (history, literature, anything pertaining to arts studies).

The semesters at Avalon do not align with traditional US schooling system (beginning in February and wrapping up in December to mirror their sister school in Avalon, Australia), so Luca is actually marginally older than many of his current classmates at Crimson Beech High.

(well. Those that aren’t vampires, anyway).

As at the first chapter of ID/SICSIG, Luca is 18, and will be turning 19 in January.

Hobbies

Luca could have taken music as an elective at Avalon, but he never did. Music is something that is purely for self expression and fun. While he did take drum lessons for about a year as a child, most of Luca’s musical ability comes from the school of fucking around and finding out — he is a kinaesthetic learner, so much of his drumming is self-taught.

Wayne (read: awful person) never really approved of Luca’s dancing and wanted them to quit when they first started taking lessons in primary school, but Terri put her foot down when she saw how happy it made them to have a form of self-expression that really spoke to who they were. As a means of compromise, Wayne suggested Luca take up drumming — something he saw as a suitably “masculine” hobby to “help him man up”.

A lot of the arguments Wayne and Terri had regarding Luca’s hobbies in their formative years were, in truth, veiled conversations about Luca’s sexuality and gender identity. Terri has never been anything but accepting of her child, and Wayne has never been able to get his head out of his own ass around Luca being gay, let alone non-binary. Though Terri tried to shield them from it, Luca often bore the burnt of a tirade of queerphobic verbal abuse, which escalated to physical violence in the years preceding Wayne and Terri’s separation.

There were a whole host of reasons why the O’Rinn household wasn’t the easiest or safest place to be growing up (which I have explored more in Starlight!); understandably, Luca had a lot of energy (and, in the years before Wayne’s arrest, a lot of anger) that he was able to take out on his drum kit.

Drumming on his own has turned into a really therapeutic space for Luca, wherein he can get into a flow state, lose the outside world, and work through a lot of his feelings. As much as Luca despises his father, he loves his drums — and knowing his father was the one to buy him his first ever drum kit is something of a sore spot. To this day, Luca still has mixed feelings about it.

Drumming with Viktor’s band, however, became a space of growth and celebration. Your Bisexual Awakening (as they are currently called — the band's name changes with almost every gig) is made up of other students from Avalon, and is unapologetically queer and in your face about it. They mostly play classic rock, punk, and grunge tracks, but ultimately do not limit themselves by genre.

Viktor, the band’s vocalist and frontman, is an OC (and will probably get his own "Meet My OC" profile!) (eventually); the other band members are Easter Eggs from other Choices books: WtD’s Angel on bass, NB’s Cal on keys, and ILITW’s Ava on lead electric guitar.

You can find out more about Luca via my masterlist, or read about them in my longfic, snow in crimson, starlight in gold on AO3! 🖤(direct link, fic is rated Explicit)

tagging: @choicesficwriterscreations

[wewebaggit]

El hitting Angela parallels more to what she did to Max with her skateboard. These are rage issues and not really fight or flight responses.

She does it at the cabin too (s2) when she's just about had it with Hopper. She does it with the guy in forest too.

In season 1 at the lake/river or whatever even with lucas with the door locking and knocking him against the car. Or that that supermarket.

She was at no point in time under actual/perceived mortal danger. Henry in the lab however DEFINITELY was.

El was not happy with henry killing the lab kids - her bullies nor was she okay with outing them. She was merciful towards Kali's abuser because he has kids. Her fight or flight is fight. But her response to anger is also fight.

Also the what have you done flashback was triggered by the blood she saw on Angela's face. The dead lab kids having bled from their eyes and nose? Brenner too with a bloodied broken nose.

It triggers the hint of a memory. She's already feeling weird. And then mike just pulls the final trigger with his what did you do line.

El's violence is girlbossified in the show AS WELL AS in the fandom because women are powerful only if they act like men. This is NOT in isolation. Gunslinger Nancy. Joyce getting into fights. Max being into videogames like boys  ("girls don't play videogames") and skateboarding to show her as being totally tubular.

Erica and Robin are the only female characters who've been allowed to be escape this. They're instead quirky fast talking lesbian and sassy black girl and overall tertiary characters used to prop the male characters around them.

woMEN in stranger things

This is not to say women or men can only be/do/like one thing. However the show has a pattern alright.

It's not so much women hating or male worshipping (I hope so, but also it REALLY isn't). It's just that their (writers') ideas of cool and uncool (not good or bad) are very stereotypically gendered.

[polarpace]

The Elements

(shoutout to @shiftingshade for helping me with certain aspects of this, like getting down the symbol for Spirit! They have a Spyro the Dragon AU of their own that I highly recommend checking out.)

After nearly a year of work, I would like to introduce you to the six elements of my Spyro AU, The Legend of Fire and Ice. Alongside the elements are their secondary abilities, which are extensions of the main elements that allow the user to utilize a wider range of abilities. There are also tertiary abilities, sometimes referred to as a fury, that combine their primary and secondary abilities into a powerful elemental attack.

Any element can be any color, including white and black. The culmination of every element is called Aether, a special ability that can only be controlled by special creatures who are born once every ten generations. However, Aether can also be created artificially via crystals, or if one user of each element were to combine their magic. Aether is a black and white beam that glows with every color of the rainbow.

None of the elements are inherently good, and none are inherently evil. Each have their own set of unique abilities that could be used for a variety of purposes. This concept is represented by the circular shape of the, well, wheel, speaking to the fact that no one element is superior to the others. Additionally, every creature is born with an element, whether they can wield it or not.

A process called enchantment causes a creature’s secondary ability to be different from their birth element, allowing them to use certain parts of a second element, but preventing them from using the secondary ability of their birth element. For example, a Fire creature enchanted with Ice would get Water as their secondary, but still primarily breathe Fire. Enchanted creatures have furies that combine both elements.

And now… onto the elements themselves!

---

Fire is a combustive element, defined by its scorching heat. Creatures of this element can create and control flames, with the most advanced users able to engulf and shield themselves within the blaze. They are able to swim through lava or walk through a forest fire without being burned. It may also be used as a light source.

-SECONDARY: Magma manifests primarily in the form of fiery rocks that explode into a wave of lava. At its most powerful, these fireballs will create a shockwave that sprays bits of igneous rock and lava in a wide range.

-FURY: The user forces a strong burst of fire magic from within, creating a blazing inferno with flames that throw exploding fireballs in every direction.

Electricity is a wild and unpredictable element, quick and energetic. Those that wield this element can conduct bolts of electricity, with the most experienced and sharp users able to tame this fierce element into a controlled stream. This element can also speed up its caster, allowing them to zip around, though this is difficult to control. Electricity can also be used to power machinery and other inanimate objects.

-SECONDARY: Gravity casters can wield static electricity, swathing their bodies in it or shooting arcs of it to create charged tornadoes that can lift objects or creatures into the air.

-FURY: Zapping electricity surges from the user’s body, creating a shockwave that trails off into bolts of static that can trigger mini tornadoes. Anything caught within is often forced into the sky!

Earth is the ability to harness the earth itself, from the soil on the ground to currents in the air. Creatures of this element can fire shots of energy that call dirt and stone and wind to their aid. These energy shots can either be shot out directly, or manifest as a flail that can be thrown about. The caster can also use this energy to physically push things away, or to make a natural shield around themselves.

-SECONDARY: Wind users specialize in controlling the air, or even summoning powerful gusts of wind. These currents can be influenced more directly when high amounts of Earth energy are forced together. When this compressed energy is fired, it unleashes tornadoes filled with various debris, which can protect the user or keep foes trapped within.

-FURY: The caster calls to the earth itself, causing boulders to rain from the sky and summoning mighty whirlwinds that pick up as much debris as possible before flinging it in any direction. The power of the debris landing back onto the ground is said to feel almost like an earthquake.

Spirit is an energy that can revive the dead and influence the emotions of the living. This element manifests as a beam, and can easily be transferred into crystals. Creatures with Spirit can more easily soothe a sad friend, or compel their foes to hesitate before an attack. Those brought back to life by a Spirit caster can have their minds altered or controlled by the one who revived them. Spirit users also have a connection to dreams, with powerful ones being able to contact anyone – living or dead – through the use of visions.

-SECONDARY: Although those who have this secondary appear to control Time itself, it more specifically influences the perception of everything around them. While the user appears faster to others, the creature themselves sees everything around them moving slower.

-FURY: Beams refract from the body of the caster, affecting the emotions of anyone hit by them. Any emotion can be influenced by this fury, but it will manifest as overwhelmingly intense. Time also slows the closer someone is to the “heart” of the fury.

Shadow is a sticky element that can be used to slow down or stop creatures and objects. Those with this element can cover themselves and others with it, temporarily allowing them to take on a shadowy form. This offers them camouflage and allows them to “jump” into any shadows around them. Physical shade can also be influenced, with casters able to manifest tendrils that can keep anything rooted to the shadow. Creatures with this element specialize in stealth.

-SECONDARY: Poison users can inject anything with a venom that makes creatures sluggish or sleepy. This venom isn’t lethal and wears off after a short time, but can stop attackers in their tracks. Sometimes this toxin is given to insomniacs to aid in sleep.

-FURY: The caster covers everything in shadow, pulling anything caught in the blast into the shade and trapping them there. The outer edges of the fury are surrounded by tendrils that poison anyone who comes near.

Ice is a stinging cold element that can manifest in many forms, from the gentlest flurry to the sharpest icicle. Ice creatures can use streams of ice to freeze other creatures or objects, either using small bits of frost to temporarily stop them, or encasing them entirely in ice. They can also partially cover themselves in ice, functioning as either a shield or a weapon. This element can also be fired out in sharp but brittle icicles.

-SECONDARY: Creatures can pull moisture from around them or even from within their own bodies to use Water. It is able to be shot out as a pressurized surge, or compressed into explosive bubbles. Those with this secondary sometimes have gills to breathe underwater.

-FURY: Shards of ice explode from the caster and shatter, scattering bits of ice around them. A mini blizzard forms in the vicinity, making it difficult to escape. Water spurts up from the ground and is instantly frozen by the frigid conditions. Anyone or anything caught within is generally frozen, too!

---

There are a couple of additional details that I want to elaborate on in the future (for example, trying to explain how furies work on enchanted creatures) but this is already getting long enough so I’ll leave it here! I eventually plan on drawing and writing in-depth posts for each individual element, as well as covering the concept of Enchantment. For now, these brief descriptions of each element’s abilities should at least give you a rough idea of their usage within the story.

I’ve had this AU in the works for a long time and I’m really excited to show off more in the future!

More TLoFaI: @thelegendoffireandice

TLoFaI on deviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/polarpace/gallery/86685877/tlofai

[silentarborseeker]

About Inah Renyi

Name: Inah Renyi 

Nicknames: Uchihoe, Serpent Puppy

Age: 25

Pronouns: She/Her

Birthdate: Third Umbral Moon, 10th Sun (June 9) 

~~PLACE OF ORIGIN~~

Race: Miqo'te Seeker of the Sun, but grew up in a Keeper of the Moon tribe in northern South Shroud. She was named and raised by her adoptive Keeper of the Moon mother. 

Hometown/city: South Shroud, Silent Arbor

Current residence/popular haunt: Gridania/Black Shroud, Limsa Lominsa, Shirogane 

~~APPEARANCE~~

Eyes: Dark Green

Hair: Blonde with black on the ends

Hair type: Straight/Wavy

Body type: Skinny, petite, small but athletic

Height: 5’0”

Skin: Fair

Facial features: Miqo’te facial markings. Two on her forehead, two on each cheek.

Favorite/commonly used clothes

Inah loves fashion and strives to be cute no matter the task or job. She sees fashion as a way to express herself. She prefers styles that are bold, feminine, and make her feel confident. One of her goals as an adventurer is to acquire cute outfits from all over the world. Her favorite color is red, which can be seen in many of her outfit choices.

~~SKILLS~

White Mage | Astrologian | Bard | Dancer | Ninja | Botanist | Carpenter

magic | combat | dance | healing | astrology | disciplines of land and hand

fun | self-sustainability | personal fulfillment | adventure 

~~COMBAT~~

Main discipline 

White Mage

Secondary/Tertiary/Extra Classes Astrologian | Bard | Dancer 

Fighting style

laid-back | protective | all out | charge in headlong | party-oriented | proactive | adaptable | quick learner

Any difficulties with magical/physical disciplines?

Inah is naturally gifted at magical arts and is very in-tune with nature due to her upbringing in South Shroud in a tribe of hunters, trappers, and botanists. She took to Conjuration quickly and fell in love with the art. Growing up, she also trained in archery as part of her adoptive tribe’s livelihood. As such, she is highly proficient with a bow. She went on to train with Jehantal in the way of becoming a bard. While preferring disciplines of magic, she made a promise to her adoptive mother to keep up her archery skills in order to always be able to protect herself.

Unfortunately, being small, somewhat weak, and relatively forgetful, she isn’t the strongest at melee combat, but it is something she hopes to one day train to become more proficient at. 

~~PERSONALITY TRAITS~~

accepting | brave | calm | caring | cheerful | confident | controlling | curious | determined | flirty | forgetful | gullible | honest | humorous | impatient | impulsive | intelligent | jealous | kind | loyal | perceptive | possessive | quick learner | quick to trust | relaxed | self-assured (sometimes falsely) | self-conscious | stubborn | thoughtful | upbeat

~~LIKES~~

Environment: forest | city streets | markets | the beach | mountains | battlefield | being at home | out in the garden

Weather: sunshine | rain

Flavors: sweet | salty | sour | tart | spiced | fruity

Textures: silk | velvet | cotton | leather | water | soft and fluffy

Favorite Dish: triple cream coffee | tea | sweet treats

Favorite Color: red

Favorite Sound: leaves rustling in the wind

Favorite Smell: fresh flowers | the ocean

Favorite Place: Gridania | Dravania Hinterlands

Favorite Holiday: The Moonfire Faire

Other: Despite being quiet around new people, Inah loves being around others. As a teenager, she liked to hang out in the Roost and listen to adventurer’s stories. She falls in love easily and appreciates easygoing personalities and people who also enjoy adventuring and flowers–especially if they smell nice. She also appreciates the duality if life as an adventurer, from busy city streets to the quiet calm of nature.

~~DISLIKES~~

Environment: anywhere particularly humid | swamps | jungles | frigid cold

Weather: snow | monsoon | haziness | intense thunderstorms with a lot of lightening

Flavors: bitter | spicy | tart | gamey

Textures: spongy | sand

Least Favorite Dish: gamey chili

Least Favorite Color: N/A

Least Favorite Sound: repetitive ticking noises

Least Favorite Smell: swamps | brine

Least Favorite Place: Coerthas Western Highlands, most of Thanalan

Least Favorite Holiday: Valentine’s Day (because she usually doesn’t have a date, despite how badly she wants one)

Other: She doesn’t like people who are bossy, condescending, and overbearing. She will not heal them. She also doesn’t like feeling used—whether that be in combat, politics, or love. Hates dusting and dust in general. Not a big fan of spiders or lightning storms either. 

~~HOBBIES~~

adventuring | fighting/sparring | gardening | music/singing | reading—memoirs from other adventurers, books on gardening and botany, romance | sewing | crafting | dancing | sightseeing/exploring | socializing | training | writing | flirting 

~~RELATIONSHIPS~~

Parents/Legal Guardian/Parental Figure: Inah’s biological mother and father are unknown (but she hopes to discover more about them). She was raised by Ferah Renyi, a Keeper of the Moon Miqo’te of the Twelveswood. She one day hopes to learn more about her Seeker of the Sun tribe, and it is one of the reasons she decided to leave South Shroud and become an adventurer.

Siblings: Five adopted siblings in a range of ages. Most likely has many more biological full and half-siblings as a Seeker of the Sun, but has no connection to them at this time.

Romantic: Single, but she gets around. She is a hopeless romantic.

Friends: She has a close group of friends who she mostly associates with, but she enjoys making new friends along her journeys.

Rivals/Enemies: Cait Sith. Inah just generally finds him annoying. 

Any special gestures of affection they have with people in their life?

Sharing food, giving gifts (usually dye), and flirting 

~~HAVE DEALT WITH/IS DEALING WITH~~

acceptance | a new relationship | a new romance | broken heart | bullying | confidence | loss | love | politics | racism | responsibility | sacrifice | self-acceptance | self-esteem | to value herself | war | prioritization

How are they dealing with the most prominent of the above? How does it affect their in day-to-day life, if at all?

Inah often finds herself journaling and taking time to herself to be alone. She finds gardening and botany to be calming and a good way to relieve stress. While having a good relationship with her adopted family, she struggles with being different in even some of her closest circles. Thankfully, she is making like-minded friends who help her create the family she always wanted. She is learning that family looks a little different for everyone. 

~~ODDS AND ENDS~~

Notable Weapons

A shortbow gifted to her by Ferah when she decided to leave her adopted tribe to become an adventurer. While she prefers disciplines of magic, she still holds onto this bow as it reminds her of home. 

Notable Mounts

Her company Chocobo, Karasu, who accompanies her on many of her adventures and takes her to new places. They have a special bond. She has trained Karasu to defend her while she casts. 

Keepsakes/Mementos

Fortemps Shield gifted to her by the house of Fortemps. She travels light, but is sure to pick up more mementos as she goes! 

Education Level

Inah did not attend a traditional school, growing up in a tribe of hunters far from a city center. Still, she did receive a basic education, learning to read and write at a young age. She loves to read, specifically on gardening, adventuring, and romance (being such a hopeless romantic). As a tween, she received training from the Conjurer's Guild to become a Conjurer and eventually a White Mage. Most of her education has come from mentors, reading, and from her time as an adventurer. 

Habits

Always leaves a little bit of her drink and food left. She makes a mess whenever she eats sweet treats. Easily distracted. She also sings to herself a lot, but is actually shy about singing in front of others.

[yawneko-coining]

Envic Attraction

[PT: Envic Attraction]

[ID: a rectangular flag with 5 equally-sized horizontal stripes and colors in this order, top to bottom: seafoam blue, soft green, titan white, algae green, and forest green. End ID.]

A tertiary attraction deeply influenced by gender envy.

[Transcript: I don't have a DNI, but i'm pro-endo, pro-contradictory identities, and anti-transX(like transage). starting discourse will get you blocked. End transcript]

[scryingworkshop]

[fantastic-fr-scries]

Guardian Male

Moss / Forest / Murk , Speckle / Shimmer / Koi

[ringleaderising]

Scrying around at a proper Deadite pair as I've already got Ex-Mortis on lock.

would people be willing to vibe with these guys as their deadites? the parents I'm eyeing would produce literally identical offspring, I'd nest them in Ice, as well to provide the "empty white eyes" with swirl/faceted/pastel of the classic deadite.

Skeletal as a tertiary, it's always read somewhat wooden to me in brown tones, "The Woods are alive!" and the classic evil forest of the original evil dead, you get me.

Aberration because nothing else has that grinning malice down the way these freaks do and like, look how cute this baby is.

I could also nest them as soon as I had all their genes done.

[scrivenger-grimgar]

on my Flight Rising x SVSSS au, where all the shen siblings are dragons, theres been a lot of FR gene updates so i'm looking into slight redesigns for the shen's scries!

in this post i'll be posting the original adult scries i had in order of their age (as their previous human selves; as dragons fangshou and louming are from the same clutch and anyuan and yukaui are from the same clutch). don't mind the gender associated with whatever pose i have, thats just an aesthetic choice. it will be organized as:

dragon breed [colour primary/colour secondary/colour tertiary] genes, eye type element.

first: shen fangshou. an obelisk with [maroon petals/gold flair/gold glimmer] (xyy) genes and bright wind eyes. you're going to see a bit of a pattern here where colours are mating or close, along with matching genes for sibling pairs/clutchmates. the emphasis on gold is indicative of his position as the Shen heir, along with red for royalty. petals was chosen because it looked nice and had the double meaning of gentleness and kindness, hidden in red for a tough and protective exterior.

second: shen louming, a ridgeback with [tarnish jaguar/ginger bee/gold glimmer] genes and common wind eyes. with the [gold glimmer] i cant tie louming to fangshou, and with the colour tarnish i can tie in some more cold colours that are more present in anyuan and yukuai, along with his tinkering habits and mechanical savvy. the gold glimmer to match fangshou is a sort of display of wealth.

third: shen anyuan (canon's shen qingqiu), an imperial with [white speckle/forest paisley/emerald glimmer] with bright wind eyes. again with the glimmer tertiary, its nice but might change, as given his lifestyle before (and after) transmigration he doesn't think very highly of himself. the paisley is where i'm really unhappy with it; i like the shine it gives to his fur but the pattern itself in mid at best and doesn't really match him.

fourth: shen yukuai, a wildclaw with [mist speckle/lavender toxin/sky sclaes] genes and rare wind eyes. i actually really like yukuai's design, its not uber feminine but still somewhere on that scale, with the wildclaw design and the scales tertiary making a more combative demeanor shine through. the way the toxin/scales combo tie each other in are very nice.

additionally if you're wondering about their size, here is a link the the flight rising dragon size comparison.

[raisindave]

[Chapter 41] Seeing the World Through Ballistic-Tinted Glasses

Content Warning: Descriptions of violence, death and torture.

"Bravo 0-7, going dark," Ghost called into his radio before shutting it off entirely, causing the impending apprehension in your gut to lurch. 

Gold sand conceded under a sprawling concrete hydroelectric dam, long abandoned. The perfect quiet place to forcefully elicit some dialogue from the writhing subject in the back seat. It was a monolith of smoothed stone that blotted out the sun as you approached the barely recognizable parking lot, now caked with a thick layer of sand. Years of idling left the entrance barricaded by orange rust and pale blue-green moss, and another protest from the bound guest in the back seat concurred with the vehicle grinding to a halt. 

A thin shower of rust and dust showered the top of your head as you ducked past the half-cracked steel door. Tall concrete walls rose to uphold a domed metal roof, supported by long black beams that stretched and occasionally collapsed under the colossal size. This building was massive, vast and echoey, where the eroded concrete had a unique capacity to reverberate every footstep. It wasn't even worth offering assistance to Ghost in this initial setup phase, as he had no problem slumping the 200-pound man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. It seems wiser to just steer clear, giving you an excellent opportunity to take in the scenery. 

A family of birds scuttled away at the sound of your approaching footsteps, fleeing out of one of the many shattered windows that occasionally graced the barren stone. At one point there must have been a reception desk and executive offices over on the far end where a small forest of feral foliage has set up residence. The guest calling your poor lieutenant a flurry of slurs brought your attention to him being fastened into a metal armchair from a stack near the door. More zip-ties buckled him into place at the wrist and ankle to his new throne. Those military-grade plastic zip-ties are shockingly sturdy; they definitely aren't for your garden-variety cable management. 

"What kind of questions do I even ask?" you asked Ghost, folding your arms over your chest as you sauntered to take in the view before you. 

To your dismay, a cold, dark glare in your direction implied his distaste for hand-holding you in this process, making you roll your eyes the second his attention rediverted to securing the writhing man. Maybe he's forgotten that torture isn't in the standard repertoire of a linguistic specialist, and they forgot to teach those skills between your Psycholinguistics and Morphology lessons. Still, common sense suggested you'd ask about his boss and their operations, but he didn't have to be such a cunt about it. 

"Names and Locations. Methods are secondary, motives are tertiary." He spoke, dragging a screeching metal table over the cracked tile with an ear-splitting whine. 

You'd expected his glare to be the end of it. At least he had the courtesy to give you an actual answer, giving you a clearer indication than the initial starting questions that were bubbling in your mind. Still, he's always going out of his way to be an asshole. 

"Tap one finger to decrease pressure, two to ramp it up," Ghost loomed over you as you were lost in thought, feeling his body shield beaming sunlight with his size. 

"Understood," you nod, refolding your arms so that your fingers are visible on your bicep. 

The sound of metal crashing on metal snapped you into the present as Ghost slammed an inky Glock onto the shambling metal table alongside a warped jerrycan of what you assumed was water. You can only pray this guy complies sooner rather than later, saving him from the physical anguish and you from the psychological. One last nod was shared between you two, and those bone-patterned gloves whipped off the burlap onion bag off the head of the protesting target. A mat of scruffy hair slumps forward, whinging against his restraints as you kneel before him. Instantly, the man you'd decided to affectionately name Charlie settled his gaze on Ghost. And he was right to do so. From now on, the lieutenant would be the angel of pain for this poor soul, the harbinger of his undoing. 

"Hello," you spoke in his familiar tongue, making him snap from his locked gaze on Ghost to meet your eyes. 

"Fuck your mother," he spat back in Arabic, lunging against his restraints as if he would've thrashed you. Fortunately for you, you had no particular need to uphold your mother's name.

"That's not a good way to start this conversation," you cooed, praying that he won't see your bold-faced lie of feigned confidence. "It's a simple trade," you stood, "you give me information about your bosses, and I'll stop Ghost here from making your nightmares come true."

Charlie curled his moustached lip in disgust, light brown eyes flashing with raw wrath. Even still, with his hostile posture toward you, those eyes still flickered to follow your partner's skeletal mask with every pacing step he took. Ghost had no idea what was being said between you two, but it didn't take a linguist to translate the immediate fear this man had of your comrade. 

"I won't tell you fucking anything," he spat at your feet, silently making a pang of sadness sing in your gut.

Rocking on your heels, you rolled your neck, tapping two fingers on your upper arm. It was the signal Ghost needed to step into Charlie's peripheral with a heavy bootstrap. Feebly, he held his ground, looking past his furrowed brows to meet Ghost's masked death stare. Instantly, he was writhing against his restraints as he approached, a hulking presence representing his new god for the next while.

"I was sincerely hoping you wouldn't say that," you frown. 

Raising your eyes to your comrade, you signalled with two tapping fingers on your arm to ramp up the pressure. A crack against his jaw wipes that stoicism off his face really quick. Your comrade had slammed his fist into his face for a second time, though at least he had the wisdom to aim for the jaw lest he lose any cognitive function from a blow to the upper skull. That's the kind of instinct that comes from experience. A spatter of pink spit coupled next to the first on the grungy tile, and Ghost again turned to collect an item from the table. Whenever you felt lingering uneasiness manifest in your gut, you willed your mind to remember the stolen futures of all those graves in the dunes. Futures stolen by his regime. Futures stolen by this man who just won't talk. Yet. 

"Who gave you the orders to shoot those test subjects?" Your mouth twisted, staring down at him. "That coal quarry with all the forced chemical tests, the one you were fleeing," you corrected. 

"I'm not telling you shit," he bit back, snickering and rolling his jaw. 

Bad answer. Another tap, two fingers. Ghost lept into action. It all happened so fast, making your stomach heave as you processed his intention. Due to a lack of preparation, your comrade was forced to improvise his extraction methods. This meant making him resort to more physical techniques rather than relying on a tool. Unfortunately for Charlie, the lieutenant had cracked one of his fingers like a glowstick between those black and white gloves. A scream ripped through the concrete chasm. You steadied your guard, refusing the bubbling bile back down your throat. 

"Let's try that again," you continued, "which Sepratist gave you the order to shoot them?"

He took a second to calm down his hysterics, and you caught a glimpse of wickedly bent fingers shattered in every wrong direction. It'd make you heave if you had any food left in your stomach. This is dirty, evil work. Even if it's for a greater purpose. 

"N-nobody," he dodged your gaze, slumping away from Ghost's presence over his shoulder as he refused to meet your face. 

You clicked your tongue disapprovingly, kneeling before him to force his gaze to meet yours. He was pale, but still full of fight. He was so fiercely defending these warlords like a whipped dog, stoic and full of poison. 

"Wrong answer," you clicked your tongue disapprovingly, "You could walk free if you just give us your boss’ names." 

He rolled his head away from you once again, giving you enough of an answer to rise and side-eye your grim shadow's prowling. He had a way of lurking around passively while you two spoke in Arabic, waiting obediently for the next order. Another two-finger tap, and in a split second, he whipped Charlie's chair backwards on its two back legs, tilting it to lay flat on the ground. The words that poured out of him were everything but answers. And as Ghost was preparing the canister of water, you caught a glimpse under his arm bandages; pink streams of scratch marks. That was an easy sign to solidify your resolve. Those were the telltale woulds of someone's final resistance to being strangled. They were the last plea from a dying soul under this man's crushing grip- likely the son or daughter of one of those jaded faces you'd passed in town. Those were the bandaged hands of a brute, of a killer. It made it so much easier to watch your comrade slip a dusty sheet over his mouth and pour glugging water over his gasping mouth. Water torture is so particularly brutal because it's entirely psychological. His drowned screams and wheezes echo through the vast compound, reminding distant families of birds and rodents of this man's hysterical anguish. 

"Who gave you the orders!" you screamed over his sputtering coughing, making sure your shrill voice was loud and clear. 

Ghost whipped him back into an upright position, heaving and spitting water- he politely whipped the damp cloth back off his red, gasping face. He sank into his chair when gravity was back in a familiar position. With shattered fingers and a heaving chest, this guy should look miserable. Yet, of all things, the most prominent emotion you could read was sheer terror. Every time your dancing partner walked around him, the target would buckle and heave in his chair, contorting against his restraints to creep as far as possible from his presence. You found it oddly relatable. Still, it was beyond clear: he's fucking terrified of Ghost. He's like a dog with his tail between his legs, cowering at the suggestion of his presence with his gargantuan shadow. 

If vinegar won't work, honey will. It's time to change gears. At least now he's broken in. Another tap, one finger. Slow it down, Ghostie. 

"Why are you protecting these warlords?" you willed your voice to be soft, sympathetic, and warm. 

"Th-they have my children," he sputtered, finally a word of truth after a long silence. 

"Don't you see what they're doing to the people in Al Mazrah? You know, it's a razor-thin line between your kids and all those dead kids your bosses put in the desert," you spat. 

"This is me bringing them into a better world, " he spewed through barred teeth. 

"Is that what they're telling you? Are you too fucking slow to see who truly benefits from a martial state in Al Mazrah?" The words were laced with venom as they slipped from your coarse throat.

A sinking silence fell over the unsettlingly open area. It felt like a vast ocean around you, where your meek presence at the sheltered base of this dam was like a spec in the infinity of space. It was so unnervingly grand that it could make the nerves stand on end if you had the strength to consider that horror. You could feel Ghost's dark eyes watching your movement like a wolf, obediently and dutifully waiting for your command to feast on more dripping red meat, and he was practically licking his chops in anticipation. 

"Just kill me already," he asserted, grinning with a crooked nose. 

"Oh no, this isn't stopping until you give us names. Good names." 

"Oh yeah? And how are you going to know that they're good names," he snickered. 

"We have inside sources," you lied behind a composed smirk. 

Straightening your back, you watched him slumping those grungy locks back over, defeated. It felt like you were close. The honey is working, and surely Laswell would reluctantly comply if you promised his family's protection. That could be the last push to wring out the crucial answers that can make the Separatists come undone and start to work on undoing all those wrongs. Although it might be impossible to undo the chemical tests they inflicted on unwilling civilians at that quarry or the hundreds of graveless souls in those sandy hills, anything would be a start. Elongating shadows and a holy golden glow cast the view out the cracked windows into a brilliant vista, where streaming sunbeams caught dancing dust in the disrupted air. 

That's when you heard a sound you were entirely unprepared to hear. You blinked in disbelief as you looked over your shoulder at him, but there he was. Laughing. Laughing like a fucking hyena, with blood pouring over his teeth. A shared look with Ghost confirmed your suspicion, and there was an unsettling energy in the atoms around you. His bellowing laughter made your skin crawl, and the look in his eyes was utterly soulless. 

"You dumb fucking whore," he spat, trickling blood from licked teeth, slumping forward in his seat.

He looked like he was about to say something else, but another roaring cackle interrupted his speech. The air was stagnant and rank, heavy with the thick smell of blood, developing an unsettling chill as the peak of the afternoon's heat promised an upcoming biting cold. This man was broken, shattered beyond recognition. Between a rock and a hard place, except the rock is an active threat against his family, and the hard place is Ghost's oath to splinter more bones if he doesn't cooperate. It's his laughing that won't stop, despite the bubbling first few syllables of sentences in their infancy trickling between cackles. 

"We've been in your radio since Verdansk," he roared, eyes wild and crazed. "We've heard every word you dumb cunts have said for months. Us and- and the Russians," he could barely get the last words out before he erupted into hooting laughter.

Cold shock hit your face, furrowing your brow. Blinking in confusion, you felt prickling anxiety and dread creep up your spine at the onset of his unsettling words. Fingernails started to dig into your palms as if he'd inflicted some personal slight. Most of all, confusion. 

"The air raid we called will be hitting your team any second," he squealed, voice cracking under the strain of cackling, "all your SAS buddies and the bitch are getting blown sky high."

The horrifying reality surged through chilled blood, pumping ripping thoughts into you once your heartbeat continued. It's the Russian Cartel; they're partnered with the Russian Cartel! It's how they knew to start the attack the minute you stepped into that stadium in Verdansk. It's how they knew to cut their transmission on that USB as soon as you got it- the Arabic-speaking transmission. It's how they knew you were on their trail after the London attacks. It's how they knew what Basmala said and to come after her so immediately. It's how they knew you were coming to the quarry so they could slip out in time. Hell, it's how they know exactly where to send this new torrent of hellfire to maximize your squad's casualties. You were so close to the truth the whole time, it was all right there.

Every emotion you've ever felt, duty, wrath, pride, jealousy, fear, and despair crashed into your consciousness in a matter of two seconds flat. A piercing chill made your face drain of all heat, feeling your face soften in shock. There wasn't even time to think about what you were doing, the words just lept from your throat. 

"Radio- Radio now!" You cried in English, making Ghost flinch in confusion. 

The man in the chair continues his maniacal howling, rocking back and forth against his restraints. He rolled his thumb to realign the radio's frequency, unclicking the device from his shoulder warily to place in your hand. Instantly, the radio blared to life, sending squealing interference through the device. 

"Mayday, Mayday, Mayday," you wailed hopelessly into the black device, "All Bravo, Actual, incoming air raid on your location, they have our radios tapped!" 

You turned to look at him, but he was already boring into you. Ghost's eyes were suddenly fierce as he, too, began to grapple with the situation over a symphony of belligerent laughing. You begged and prayed for an answer—anything, any sort of signal to prove that your comrades weren't currently ignited by the promised threat. You were just about to click the radio for another call, feeling fumbling, slick fingertips sliding over the button, when a voice cut through.

"Say again, Cricket? " Price spoke. His tone was stern and confused.

Despite the momentary relief, your heart still hammered in your chest as you could barely muster the strength to meet Ghost's hard eyes with muscles this weak. 

"They're sending an airstrike to the quarry and the observatory, you have to get o-"

"We've got some warbirds coming in from the west, flying low," Farah's voice crashed over yours. "Coming fast."

"Understood," Laswell's voice made your heart soften as you could hear the sound of fumbling equipment through her mic. 

"Farah, help get Laswell out." He commanded harshly, his tone immediately shifting into action. 

It's a level of panic you've never entirely felt before. Crumbling confidence, absolute terror. It almost felt like one of those dreams where you're falling, seconds from the ground, except you're in a perpetual state of being an instant away from being utterly obliterated by the incoming ground. Ghost's hand charged into your peripheral, gruffly snatching his radio from your numbing fingertips.

"If they have us bugged, we all have to go dark," he called, low and sharp. 

"All Bravo, cut comms," Price concurred, hearing the huffing breaths of someone in a dead sprint. "Bravo 0-7, route to the safehouse, bunker down and wait for the countersign." 

"Roger," Ghost responded flat and dutifully, meeting the intensity in your face. 

Just before he slipped the radio shut, the gut-wrenching sound of a deafening explosion tore through the speakers, clearly sparked alive in the commotion from someone's frequency. Your stomach lurched to your throat, hearing the last chirp of whatever hell was being wrought upon your allies one last time. For good measure, the batteries were pried from the device's innards. A single shaggy breath since you'd spoken left your lungs burning for oxygen, but the paralyzing anxiety forbade the indulgence. 

Crippling despair crushed your bones, raising your shoulders and making your face go pale. It's not fair. It's not fair that this guy gets to take the fall for sick warlords who want to bring this proud town to its knees, all for their financial gain, thinly veiled as a people's revolution. Heat sparks in you like a cheap lighter. Spite and wrath, hatred at his patheticness, disgust. Lightheaded dread changed gears in dragging seconds, and you felt your face harden. Volcanic hate seared behind your eyes as your vision raked over those pink tracks on his forearms from desperate fingernails, pleading for mercy. No, you don't get mercy. 

Once numb fingers found the grip of the Ghost's Glock on the sleek metal table, heavy but familiar. Your lip curled, and so did your finger around the dark trigger. Another hand slipped to cock the gun, a satisfying click went almost unheard under your thunderous heartbeat. Vision went dark with fury, and the look in the face of the crazed, cackling patron was a visage of satisfaction at your despair. All in a matter of seconds, your arm swung the pistol with a locked elbow, making a red flower bloom between his eyes. The deafening crack of a spent shell left you feeling your teeth consider splitting under your iron-clenched jaw.

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