#forgiveness and support is always harder to offer than retributions

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

So I was reading this manhwa 'who made me a princess', idk if you know about it so brief description of it is a modern girl transmigrated into a book after her death, and its a princess who is disliked by her emperor/king? (forgot title) father and was eventually executed, anyway what i was trying to get at is that to show how terrible the father was there was entire scene where he killed all the concubines in cold blood after his wife's death (in webcomic there is no reason or readdressing of this fact afterwards, idk about the novel) so some of the fans were discussing that to show he changed as the comic was trying to portray, how powerful it would have been if he bowed down in front of those he killed, if he at least tried to make up for it. And idk looking at that discussion made me think if an attempt at post canon jiang cheng redemption (idk man maybe jiang yanlis ghost came to haunt him or some other reason where he tries i guess, maybe an older jin ling who is now stable in his position as the jin leader is the one who breakdowns and yells how much of a murderer/blood jiang cheng has of innocents on his hands after being approached by some poor family member of someone jiang cheng killed, the person is an old grandmother who asks 'my grandson was taken by sect leader jiang as a disciple he hasnt been back since, i hope he is well' and poor woman doesnt know the kids been tortured and killed and so jin ling says unless you apologize to them, unless you at least try to face your actions, dont call me your nephew again/i wont call you my uncle) jin ling (and just to be safe he tells wei wuxian all about the dates when they are going in case something goes wrong cause he trusts wei wuxian to help if things go south with jiang cheng) goes with him to prevent jiang cheng from lashing out if the families dont want to do shit with him, and to make sure he tells the truth of it and maybe its a finally wake up call for jiang cheng, because any time he even thinks of blaming wei wuxian he remembers how much of a clown he is ALA the temple scene and has no other choice but to face his actions if he wants to keep a relationship with jin ling. What are your thoughts on it?

I do think, in regards to Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng's relationship, his love for his nephew is to show that it isn't too late to show in actions, his own dedication to someone. Admittedly, I do not think Jin Ling has the heart to disown or think his uncle is a monster, as many do reasonably view him as readers. As he had said with his narration:

Somehow, there didn’t seem to be anyone he could blame or anyone he could hate. Wei Wuxian, Jin Guangyao, Wen Ning—he should hold every one of them responsible for his parents’ deaths. He had good reason to loathe each of them. But they all seemed like they’d had their reasons, and it left him unable to hate them.

But if he didn’t hate them, who could he hate? Had he deserved to lose both parents at such a young age? Was this how he would be forced to live—unable to seek revenge on his enemies, but also unable to loathe them without qualms?

He couldn’t take this lying down. He couldn’t help but feel aggrieved. How he yearned to perish with them and be done with it!

For many I don't think they see as Jiang Cheng being served enough of his own retribution. But not all of it is always putting someone in the worst possible situations to be reaped. The world of "demonic cultivation" is the realm of Xue Yang, not of Wei Wuxian, and is something that has been in underground existence even before Wei Wuxian. But don't know if Jin Ling would technically by these stories, as everyone has their reasons. It's about the healing over anything else that he eventually tries to grow with and become less ignorant through. This is already seen as he chooses night hunts with Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji mentoring with no mention of Jiang Cheng kicking up a fuss. It is a very small thing, but small things are all that can be used to achieve a better world and life. Jin Ling, I feel at least, does not want anything to do with further condemnation that will only cycle a hate that will not be satisfied unless you as a person decide to move on from it.

Jin Ling does know what his uncle is like, horribleness and all, but, love is also trying to stay with them and having the fortitude to stay with that person to hope they can be for the better. Jiang Cheng, will never be kind or fully capable of initiating remorse, but his actions are enough for Jin Ling to comfortably and finally be allowed to flourish, without the weight of self-doubt. Support, in that, is really what Jin Ling needs over wanting further condemnations for those that he loves and cares for.

A lesson ironically learned from Wei Wuxian a man he stated to hate so much, yet learned to love.

[anon-e-miss]

Hi anon it's me Blueshirezz I create another account because I completely forgot my e-mail was so uh....Merry Christmas anon

I was waiting for Jazz/Prowl fanfic update😴

sorry for asking you this question😔

I hope you don't mind?

The clans were gathering. Perhaps, Jazz should have been walking amongst them, humouring their various gifts and promises as they jostled amongst themselves in hopes of improving their positions in the hierarchy of Polihex. Straxis’ sycophants had yet to appear and in all likelihood they would not show their faces. Through infighting and Straxis’ violent paranoia, there was very little left of his once powerful clan. His allies had gone to ground, likely afraid of retribution. It was a tempting thought, but Jazz did not know if he would be able to stop. No clan had stood in support of his when Straxis had outlawed them to hamper their efforts to rescue Free Wheeler. They had feared the same treatment, and perhaps that was understandable but Jazz did not feel terribly forgiving. The blow, the failure was still too fresh.

As the Chiefs were given housing in the palace, Jazz had to put real effort into avoiding the aft-kissers. In the end, he took shelter in the harem, the place he least wanted to be, with the mech whose company he wanted the least. Jazz did not want to like Prowl. The melancholy mech was painful proper and perfectly rigid. Laughter echoed through the harem complex, but the originator of the brood never laughed at his creations’ antics. He hardly even smiled. When he did, it was tragically beautiful and Jazz recoiled from than observation.

Prowl was not like the god of hearth and home, the serene, beatific originator. While he was quiet, there was no serenity to him. While he was dutiful and gentle with his creations and Jazz’s as well, it felt less faintly and more like martyrdom. Not that Prowl complained. He never complained and he never protested. Jazz imagined he cared so well for the Twins out of duty, but he showed them the same devotion he showed his own newling. If he felt any resentment for their added burden, it was well hidden.  Jazz knew he needed to find a wetnurse to provide for the Twins, so that Prowl could go... Go where. Somewhere else. Jazz was not ungrateful, Prowl and his creations would be provided for ‘til the end of his cycles. Through Punch’s adoption, they were Jazz’s clansmecha and they would be treated as such. Still, Jazz wanted distances. Maybe later they could become friends, after Jazz’s wounds had calloused.

Jazz cooed over his yellow creation as Prowl put Smokescreen through a math lesson. Ori had brough a load of datapads in from the library. Prowl had used them to come up with some quite of education plan. He was wickedly smart. The datapads were mostly written in Polihexian Neo Cybex but Prowl had already deciphered the texts enough to make use of them. Smokescreen wrote out his coursework on a tablet, Punch had given him for the purpose. When Prowl had to pause their lessons to tend to one of his siblings, he kept his helm down. Jazz almost missed the tension in his jaw. He had to have been used to this. That did not mean it would not be hard for him. In a matter of quartexes, the sparkling would be a youngling. His needs were going to expand. Was Prowl ready to help him on this next step of his development. Strongarm, Streetwise and Flash fussed, a sure sign it was time for a nap. Prowl told Smokescreen to continue his work as he settled his siblings. Bluestreak protested, as he always did, when he was set down in the little basket. Jazz opened his arms to take his second creation, and Prowl disappeared back inside with the trio of cranky sparklings. Flash yelled, no nap! Prowl’s response was too quiet for Jazz to pick up.

“Aren’t you going to designate them?” Smokescreen asked, looking up from his work.

“I gotta work harder at it, don’t I?” Jazz replied. “Free Wheeler must ‘o had designations for ‘em but I’ll never know. It feels wrong to call ‘em anythin’ else.”

“In Praxus, the nursery designation is just what the origin calls the bitlets. They earn real designations when they leave the nursery and learn to be real mechs.”

“So Smokescreen’s just yer nursery designation?” Jazz asked.

“Mhm.”

“Are ya thinkin’ ‘bout what ya’d wanna change it too? Won’t be long before yer upgrades.”

“I don’t want to change my designation. I don’t want upgrades. I don’t want to leave Origin.”

“Leave?”

“Younglings don’t stay in the nursery. Either they get a mentor or their progenitor mentors them and they learn to be proper mechs.”

“Ya don’t gotta leave yer origin. This ain’t a nursery.”

“But Origin can’t leave.”

“Sure he can, Smokey. The door ain’t locked.”

“It doesn’t have to be locked. The nursery wasn’t.”

“It wasn’t?”

“Origin couldn’t leave. He did. We did. When I was around Downshift’s age, we escaped. We hid with a friend of his from before. Then my progenitor offered a reward for our return and that “friend” sold us out.”

“‘M sorry, Smokescreen.”

“I asked him why we didn’t try again, a little while before my progenitor died. He said he couldn’t. Not with a bitty on his well and another in his forge. It didn’t matter if the door was unlocked. He would never leave again. He wouldn’t get far. But I would. I will. They think I’m going to be contributive, but Origin said if they turned out to be wrong, I needed to runaway. I shouldn’t hide it like he did. I should runaway.”

“Ya don’t gotta runaway here,” Jazz promised and he understood a little better Prowl’s melancholy. He had escaped, he had been betrayed and his captor had ensured he would never escape again by ensuring he was always gravid or fuelling a bitlet. Crosscut was a monster. “Ya don’t gotta leave yer origin, ‘n ya don’t gotta change yer designation. We don’t lock up origins here. We don’t take younglings from their origins.”

“Straxis botnapped Free Wheeler and the bitlets in him.”

“He was a monster. Every frametype has its monsters.”

“My progenitor was a monster. Road Rage was a monster. My origin saved their lives and they made him a breeding slave.”

“No one’ll do that to yer origin again. I swear on my life. He’s free. Y’re all free.”

[raendown]

Commission for @crystallizedshadowfire, thank you!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Rated: E Word count: 4493 Summary: The Chief of Police and the boss of the local mob, an unlikely pairing for sure. Keeping their relationship a secret is hard, coming up with excuses for why they haven't taken each other down yet is harder, but of course Madara always finds a way to complicate things that don't need complicating.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Criminal Malpractice 

Madara scowled and flinched at the sound of a bullet impacting the concrete wall he and his subordinates were hiding behind. He was getting too old for this shit.

Okay so he wasn’t actually all that old yet, barely creeping up on his mid-thirties, but his poor ears had suffered through more than their fair share of this bullshit. He would find a new line of work if he hadn’t already entrenched himself so deeply in to this lifestyle that the mob might very well fall apart without him. Maybe he should start thinking about training a replacement soon so that he could retire. Obito was showing a lot of promise as he grew in to his later adolescence, he would make a good successor. He was also just crazy enough to enjoy this lifestyle and all the insanity that came with it. Kids these days were wild.

A chunk of something that may have been concrete but also may have been a fragment of skull bone went rocketing passed his face. At the same time one of his men jerked backwards and collapsed to the ground, falling utterly still in a way Madara recognized all too well. His nose wrinkled. Yet another widow to console, another life lost to cover up while he tried to keep his own mourning quiet to help the lower ranks keep up morale. Lately he was running out of ways to make bodies disappear in a manner that wouldn’t lead suspicion back to him or anyone that worked for him and his family. Just because it was common knowledge that the Uchiha family were connected with the mob didn’t mean they should make it easy for the law enforcement to pin them with any actual evidence.

Mistakes like today notwithstanding. If he hadn’t already taken out the cameras in this area it would be very hard to talk his way out of being accused of something here.

Speaking of law enforcement, Madara dared to peek around their cover and count the heads popping up from behind the barricade of police cruisers. He forced his eyes to skip past the head of shining white hair they wanted to catch on and focus instead on the actual bane of his existence. In another world Shimura Danzo would definitely have followed a similar nefarious path as Madara had – although probably with less than half the morals. Madara’s life was filled with illegal acts but he had a code of conduct, okay? He took care of his own and really he was just trying to make this city better. Just because his methods were shady didn’t mean he didn’t care, he simply cared in all the ways that people who followed the law couldn’t.  

Unfortunately for the City of Konoha the illustrious Shimura Danzo had instead decided to dedicate his life to being a police officer. At some point he must have had high hopes for what he surely thought would be a shining career. It clearly rankled that he hadn’t made it even to Captain, stuck forever at the rank of Sergeant and taking out the frustration that gave him on the men he led. Serving under a much younger Chief of Police – the youngest their city had ever seen yet also the most competent – had turned him even more bitter. Several times now the man had tried to reach out to the underbelly of the city, determined to turn dirty cop. Madara, however, owned the underbelly of this city and he had a standing order forbidding his people from dealing with the man.

The chaos of a shootout seemed like the perfect opportunity to remove a problem he was more than tired of working around. Across the way he could see Izuna pausing at the sight of his satisfied grin, though his brother only narrowed his eyes in suspicion. It cut to the quick to be so mistrusted by his own kin. Really it did!

“What are you planning?”

“To get rid of a nuisance,” Madara said. In one smooth motion he stood, aimed, and fired then immediately dropped back down hoping no one caught enough of a look at him for a positive identification. Then he looked over to where Izuna was using a small mirror to keep track of the action. “Did I get him?”

“Yup. You definitely shot the Chief of Police.”

“WHAT!?”

Completely disregarding his own safety, Madara jerked around and popped his head out in to the open. Shimura was still standing. A foot or so to his left side Senju Tobirama, the man who had skyrocketed up the ranks since the day he joined the force, was being dragged away to safety while he very calmly attempted to staunch his own bleeding and sent a thunderous scowl toward the mob forces. Their eyes met across the mayhem for a brief moment and Madara swallowed thickly.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

 -

 The hours he waited in the empty house that night were some of the longest he had ever spent. Owning the city always felt like less of an accomplishment during the times when he was faced with how little rights he had to his own life partner. Falling in love with a police officer was a terrible idea, he’d known that right from the moment he realized where his heart was headed, but staying with the man and supporting him all the way up to being named Chief of Police was such a spectacularly bad idea he still wondered how neither of their associates had caught wind of it yet.

Having only a select few people who knew where he called home helped with that, as well as his partner’s infamous reclusive tendencies. It did not make the waiting any easier when he knew that Tobirama was spending those hours in a hospital undergoing surgery where Madara was quite unwelcome to go visit. A known mob boss visiting an officer of the law? Yeah, not obvious at all.

Adrenaline rushed through him at the click of the lock on their front door and Madara hurried over to peek down the hall just as the tumbler slid back in to place. Tobirama’s movements were stiff but he was blessedly alone as he slid off his shoes and toed them in to the neat little spot where he always kept them, eyeing the coat hooks then sighing and trudging down the hall without removing the fur trimmed civilian jacket buttoned over what remained of his uniform. When he spotted Madara skulking around the corner he stiffened even further and turned in to the kitchen without a word.

Madara slinked after him like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs. Silence stretched between them as Tobirama went through the motions of drawing a mug of tea one handed and the guilt rose higher and higher in Madara’s throat until he couldn’t take it and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“So how was your day at work?”

Obviously he realized how stupid that was the moment he said it. He really didn’t need Tobirama to slam his cup down hard enough to slosh precious Darjeeling in every direction.

“You fucking shot me, that was my day at work!” Shaking out his now scalded fingers, he turned around to return fire with the daggers in his eyes. “I’m out of commission for at least a week, if not several, and what do I have to show for it? Another ‘failed’ attempt to take down the man living in my own home. You are very fucking welcome for covering that abysmal escape, by the way, because I had to cover your ass from a god damned ambulance!”

“I’m sorry, okay!? I was aiming for that Shimura dick head!”

“Well your aim fucking sucks, go ask Kagami for a few lessons on marksmanship before you take my head off next time!”

Madara shuddered. His nephew was a walking ball of sunshine terror, too happy to be natural and too gifted with long range weaponry to be entirely human. No way was he putting himself through another round of cheerful hours on the gun range just to come out even more thankful that he’d somehow managed to keep the kid happy in the role of budding assassin. Unhappy assassins usually came after their boss and he certainly wasn’t looking to have both eyes taken out from three streets away with no evidence.

Tobirama cruelly allowed him to stew in those thoughts while he turned away again and ran cold water to soothe the fingers he had spilled tea all over. Watching him, Madara cringed as he realized he had effectively taken both the poor man’s hands out of commission. He really wasn’t doing so hot today. Some big bad boss he made when he couldn’t even care for his own partner properly.

“Let me,” he offered quietly. Tobirama subsided with a grumble, throwing himself down – gently – at the kitchen table to watch every movement with an eagle eye. It was a little nerve wracking but Madara bore up well enough until the tea was cleaned up and remade, delivered with a shamefully bowed head. While his lover drank the offering Madara tried several times to open his mouth and make his apologies but every time he thought he had the words straight in his head he would look up at Tobirama and everything in his brain would scatter all over again in favor of the heavy guilt weighing him down.

He shot his own lover. He put a bullet in to his own partner’s flesh. What words could possibly make up for that? How could Tobirama ever forgive him when he was quite sure he would never forgive himself?

“Nothing vital got hit, at least.” He jerked in surprise when Tobirama broke the silence first.

“Oh. Good. That’s…I’m sorry.” If any of his subordinates could hear how small his voice was in that moment he had no doubt that they would laugh themselves silly and lose all respect for him. No one would ever fear his retribution again if they knew how far gone he was for the man across the table.

“I’m going to bed.”

“But-!”

“Madara, I am tired. I spent nearly thirteen hours in the hospital because they allowed a first year resident to operate and he was so incompetent they had to open me up again and go back in as soon as he stitched me closed. They wanted me to stay overnight but I assured them that I had a ‘guest’ staying with me who could help and now speculations about my personal life have tripled. My own partner shot me, my officers are chomping at the bit to have you behind bars for it, and I am in so much pain I can hardly think straight.” Pushing his empty mug away, he struggled to his feet with his jaw tightening when the motion tugged on some sensitive areas. “I want nothing more than to let this fucking day end.”

He was tottering out of the kitchen a moment later, leaving Madara glaring at the floor in personal offense that it had not yet opened up and swallowed him whole. If he were as brilliant a man as his beloved then maybe he could turn to evil science, create a time machine, go back to this morning and crack himself around the head for ever pointing a weapon anywhere close to his most precious person.

Since he wasn’t a mad genius he hauled himself out of his own chair and shuffled down towards the bedroom after the other man. He found Tobirama hovering by the end of the bed plucking at the buttons of his jacket and scowling deeply, unable to move one arm and unwilling to fiddle too much now that his other hand was covered in mild burns. Madara inched in to the room until he was spotted and told himself that it was perfectly normal for a grown man to feel so small when faced with such a sharp gaze.

“Want some help?” he offered. Tobirama snorted, dropping his hand and turning his head away moodily.

Having two working hands, Madara made quick work of the buttons and helped to slide the jacket off as gently as possible. With soft-spoken requests for a movement here or a shift there he got Tobirama down to nothing but his skin, at which point he hurried over to fetch a pair of pajama pants from one of the dressers against the eastern wall of their bedroom, scurrying back to kneel down and keep Tobirama steady while the man slid one foot in to each leg. It was hard to resist letting his touches linger like they usually would with so much skin on display and his face right there where it would be only too easy to turn his head and take the man’s length in to his mouth. Fortunately he wasn’t stupid enough to do something like that without warning when the mood in the room was so clearly not headed for such activities.

Although…perhaps he could fix that. They both knew that apologies weren’t his strong suit, his words better suited to barking orders than expressing the feelings trapped in his chest. And they both also knew that he was prone to finding more physical ways to making his feelings known, whether that be doing more than his fair share of the household chores or offering certain bedroom services without asking for reciprocation.

Of course what he had done this time was hardly something he could erase with a hand job or two but there was nothing wrong with trying and doing one thing for his partner didn’t mean he was going to call it a day and forget the whole issue. He was an asshole but he wasn’t completely heartless.

Well, not when it came to Tobirama, at least.

The possibility stayed on his mind all through helping Tobirama brush his teeth and wash his face then pulling the sheets down to tuck the man underneath them and go do all those things for himself as well. By the time he was turning off the lights and sliding under the blankets he was half hard in his pajamas and almost ashamed of how much the idea appealed to him. Not because he was ashamed of his own desires, that ship had sailed more than a decade ago and he certainly had no regrets about where his appetites had taken him, but rather because he was sure it wasn’t an appropriate apology for this sort of situation.

But really, was there ever going to be a proper way to say sorry for shooting his own partner in the chest? Or shoulder. He hadn’t had a chance to take a good look at the wound yet, covered as it was by several layers of gauze. At least that particular wave of guilt could be left until tomorrow when he would of course insist on helping to change the bandages.

Madara squirmed and fretted in the dark bedroom until he nearly leapt out of his own skin when Tobirama was once again the first of them to break the silence.

“Do you know how much paperwork I would have had to do if you did manage to shoot that asshole?”

“You…” All the tension in his body was violently expelled with a hard snort of laughter. “Is that what has you so fucking grumpy?” With a grin of relief he rolled over and fitted himself again the other man’s uninjured side. Tobirama sighed moodily.

“No, I’m grumpy because you shot me. With a bullet. It hurts. And I don’t know what painkillers they gave me but I am so high but I still fucking hurt.”

Madara sniggered. “You don’t seem high to me, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t. The room is spinning. Make it stop.”

“Actually, I had a thought. I was thinking of making it spin even faster – in a different way.” He pressed a kiss to Tobirama’s shoulder but got only a huff for his troubles. Stubborn man, refusing to be seduced even when Madara was clearly being obvious about what he wanted to do.

Lolling his head to one side, Tobirama grumbled, “Faster would not help.”

“Stop being stupid and let me give you an apology blow.”

“Ah. I’m quite sure that’s not a great idea at the moment but I am also not going to stop you so long as you understand that I can’t do much in return.” His lover turned to blink hazily at him and Madara could finally see what he meant about the pain killers. That was not the same sharp gaze he had seen in the kitchen. Something must have finally kicked in. With a laugh he pressed forward to kiss those pouting lips.

“That is entirely the point love. You’re going to be angry at me again in the morning anyway so you might as well enjoy tonight, yes?” Madara waited for the other man to nod in concession of his excellent point before shuffling around and sliding further down the mattress. “Good, then just lay back and let me take care of you.”

He gleefully chuckled over the agreeable hum from his partner. Usually it was a lot easier to fluster Tobirama with blunt sex talk but apparently the influence of whatever drugs they had him on mellowed out certain inhibitions. It was a shame his job kept him strait-laced and prevented them from recreating this again another day because Madara would have loved to see what kind of filthy things he could talk his way in to like this.

A quick blowjob to see if high-Tobirama was any louder than sober-Tobirama was a good start, though. Madara licked his lips as he gently wriggled his way in between the other man’s legs, being careful not to jostle him too much, then reached for the ties of the pajama pants he had picked out just a few minutes before. If anyone happened to ask he might be convinced to admit that he had chosen these ones because this shade of red looked lovely with Tobirama’s skin and the stretchy cotton made his ass look fantastic. Luckily no one was ever likely to ask.

Briefly mourning that he wouldn’t get to see that ass bent over for him – probably for a long while – Madara bent his neck to draw his tongue along the crease where thigh met groin, smooth skin devoid of hair because his lover liked to keep himself neat in all respects. Steady breathing increased gradually the further his licks and kisses moved inwards until finally Tobirama let out a soft gasp when Madara pressed his tongue flat against the underside of the cock now stiff and full as it waited for his attention and slid all the way up to take the head in his mouth. Then he himself was tempted to moan at the feeling of having his mouth filled.

“Shit,” Tobirama whimpered above him – honest to god whimpered. Legal or not, Madara was definitely getting his hands on something to get this man high again.

In reward for such a pretty sound he slid further down to take as much in as he could. One of his hands pressed down on the hips that were beginning to squirm, hoping Tobirama didn’t hurt himself moving around too much, while his other explored whatever heated skin he could reach. His head bobbed in a slow rhythm in time with the hand that skimmed trembling thighs and traced the grooves of a clenched abdomen. It had always been Tobirama’s body that spoke his pleasure the loudest; hearing him swear so easily and so honestly went straight to Madara’s own cock.

He’d already been sporting a semi. Just that one word combined with the soft groan that followed in the wake of his hands was enough to have him rock hard inside his own pajamas.

Were he not hyper aware of the fact that this was all meant as the start of his – likely to be months long – apology he might have tried to suggest something that would be a little more mutually satisfying. Or if he also weren’t aware that doing so would probably end with Tobirama tearing out his stitches in the heat of the moment. Madara rolled his hips down and moaned around the hard flesh in his mouth, tempted by the idea of grinding himself against the mattress until another thought wriggled its way in.

Tobirama’s protest when he pulled away was garbled and indistinct in a way it never would have been were he entirely sober. It was just enough encouragement for Madara to shuffle around until he was up on his knees where he could go back to work with one hand still holding the weakly bucking hip underneath him in place. With his other he took a moment to skim down and cup his partner’s sacs, rolling them and sliding his fingers lower to trace the places he couldn’t explore until Tobirama was healed enough that the writhing he was prone to wouldn’t hurt him. Then another soft curse met his ears and Madara began to frantically pull at his own drawstrings until they were loose enough to shove the material down and take himself in hand.

His moan vibrated around the shaft he was pleasuring, earning himself yet another intoxicating sound from his partner and encouraging both his mouth and his hand to move faster. Madara was sure if he weren’t already busy concentrating on other things he would be panting as quickly as he could hear the other was. If they continued on just like that he wouldn’t have lasted all that long anyway but then the most amazing thing happened.

For probably the first time in his life Tobirama began to babble.

“Shit, feels good. Don’t…don’t stop. Just- ah. Warm. And wet. Fuck, your mouth is wet. Feels amazing. Do that – with your tongue? That-? Yes, fuck yes, that. Ma-hah! Madara…”

Every word that spilled from him wound the man between his legs higher and higher until Madara was working himself as desperately as he was bobbing his head, praying he could hold off until his partner found satisfaction yet unable to stop his hand from chasing the incredible end he could feel coming on fast. He’d never heard anything like this from Tobirama. Since the day they first gave in to the helpless attraction between them their intimate activities had been filled with a chorus of noises from his own mouth and little more than the occasional grunt from his stubbornly reticent partner.

He had almost forgotten how hot it was to hear someone else enjoying themselves as much as he was.

It wasn’t hard to pinpoint the moment Tobirama finally noticed that he was pleasuring himself at the same time. The apparently unexpected discovery was accompanied with a long drawn out sound that could only be described as lewd and an enthusiastic bucking of the hips. Madara had just enough time to brace himself before his tongue was coated with seed, the entire world fuzzing out around him a few seconds later as the tension inside him burst at last and he spilled over his own hand as well.

Gasping with a cock still filling his mouth was a little hard but Tobirama seemed to appreciate the sensation of his continuous moans until finally they were both completely spent and Madara swallowed the bitter come with only a light grimace. As much as he enjoying sucking cock he’d never really appreciated the taste of the end results. He did very much appreciate the blissed out expression that was waiting for him when he lifted his head, half-lidded eyes staring back at him, satiated and full of warmth. Madara shivered with renewed interest that he regretfully set aside for another time.

“Was a v’ry good apologize. Apology. S’a good blowjob.” Tobirama’s lips curled up in a dopey smile and Madara paused to appreciate the rare sight.

“Should I help you get back in to your pants?” He offered, not trusting himself to say anything else just yet. If he did then it would either be some mangled form of dirty talk or he would spill his whole heart out on the floor in the form of terrible poetry mixed in with a hundred more apologies. And not even sexy ones.

“Mmm. Probably should, yes.”

“Right.” Nodding to himself Madara set about righting both of their clothes and found something to wipe his hand on, snagging a bottle of water from inside the nightstand to rinse out his mouth as well.

Then he crawled up the mattress to lay himself carefully at Tobirama’s side and pulled the blankets up over both of them. He made sure they were all perfectly even and straight, just how his partner liked them, then pressed a kiss against the man’s good shoulder and curled up against him as much as he could without having to worry about jostling the injuries he had caused.

“I’ll cook you breakfast in bed tomorrow,” he promised in a whisper. “And I’ll fetch anything you want around the house. And I’ll even do my best to hold my temper when you inevitably get irritated that you can’t do anything for yourself; we both know you will, don’t deny it.” Despite his words he paused, waiting for the expected denial because Tobirama had a very selective memory when it came to his own temper, but it never came. Curious, Madara lifted his head and peek around to see what was holding his tongue.

Fast asleep. Whatever drugs they had given him were finally doing their job, pulling him down in to dreamland where the pain couldn’t touch him. As much as Madara loved having his partner’s attention he was glad that he would spend the night comfortably and find good rest.

Tomorrow he would spend the day waiting on his partner’s every beck and call. And the next day he was calling Izuna to schedule a council of the Family. Some things in this city had needed changing for a long time and while he was certainly the right man for the job he was not willing to risk the only person who had ever loved him as completely as Tobirama did. Which meant that they would need to change some things about how they themselves operated as well. First he would help his beloved feel better. Then he could go out and make the world better as he’d always intended.

By force if necessary. A smirk tilted the corners of his lips and he looked over at his sleeping partner. He always had preferred to act first and apologize later; at least with some things he rather enjoyed the apology.

[catie-does-things]

I loved your deconstruction of the Ember Island Players -episode. Could you be persuaded to write down your thoughts about the Southern Raiders too?

Well, since you asked.

(The Ember Island Players meta)

There’s a lot to say about The Southern Raiders and much of it has been said, but I’m going to focus on five major questions:

Is Aang’s response to Katara’s anger appropriate?

Is Zuko’s response appropriate? Is he being self-serving?

Is Aang’s philosophy about forgiveness correct? Should Katara forgive her mother’s killer?

Does this episode show Zutara in a positive or a negative light?

What were the writers trying to do with this episode?

Fair warning, I’m obviously Team Zutara, but I’m not going to be uncritical of Zuko, Katara, or this episode as a whole. I actually have some very mixed feelings about it, as you’ll see.

Also, this is hella long. So, get comfortable.

This is a serious episode. Look how serious we are.

1. Is Aang’s response to Katara’s anger appropriate?

When Katara and Zuko first tell Aang they plan to find the man who killed her mother, Aang’s immediate reaction is skeptical and dismissive, asking Katara what she thinks that will accomplish. This is point one against Aang - even if there’s reason to doubt that this mission is a good idea, that’s a bad way to open the conversation. And naturally, Katara doesn’t take it well, saying in disgust that she knew Aang wouldn’t understand.

Aang protests that he does understand, and I know a lot of people take issue with his comparison to losing Appa, which I do think is not really comparable to Katara’s trauma from her mother’s death. But to be fair, he does also mention the genocide of the Air Nomads. It’s weird that Aang even puts these two things on the same level, though, and kind of does come across as naïve - as I’ve talked about before, I think a certain level of age-appropriate naïveté is a definite part of Aang’s character, and the show runs into trouble when it fails to challenge him on this.

This is another example of that failure. A bit later, when the scene cuts to night time, Aang uses forgiving Katara for trying to sneak away with Appa as another example, cheerily asking if that gives Katara any ideas. This is a real cringe moment for me, as Aang is lumping all offenses, great and small, together as if they should be equally easy to forgive. That’s not to say that they should not all be forgiven. But forgiving the murder of a loved one is inevitably going to be much harder than forgiving the minor deceit of a friend, and Aang’s flippant attitude shows no regard for the distinction.

Pictured: The wrong attitude for this conversation.

Going back to the first part of this scene, after accusing Katara of seeking revenge, which she doesn’t deny, Aang says that she sounds like Jet. This comparison really is unfair, as Katara points out - seeking retribution against a killer might be wrong, but it’s nowhere near the same as attacking innocent people. Again, Aang is making sweeping moral generalizations that, even if they’re founded on correct principles, fail to recognize the realities that make these kind of moral questions difficult. I think it would be very hard to argue that Yon Rha does not deserve any kind of punishment for killing Kya, the real question is what that punishment should be and whether Katara should be the one to mete it out.

Aang is twelve. This is a children’s show. Fine. But the writers wanted to go there, and it’s a disservice to the gravity of the subject matter they chose to address if we’re really meant to take the twelve-year-old’s fumbling attempts at moral guidance at face value.

And unfortunatley, we are. After Zuko and Katara leave, Sokka declares that Aang is “pretty wise for a kid”, which to me is…the exact opposite of what we just saw. Aang means well and is even right in some important ways, but the only arguments he has to back up his own “wisdom” are unhelpful comparisons and platitudes. He’s about exactly as inept at this as I would expect a child of his age to be, but the writers are trying to tell me he’s wise beyond his years? Not buying it.

Some points in his favor: Aang does eventually come around and recognize Katara needs to confront her mother’s killer, though it is a weird and unexplained 180 after the scene cuts from day to night. And his advice that she should “let [her] anger out, and then let it go” is sound. It’s weird that Zuko makes fun of him for this, because it’s much better presented than a lot of his previous advice, and also…something Zuko has kind of already done. But we’ll get to that later.

Overall, I’d say Aang’s response to Katara’s pain and anger is not great. His heart’s in the right place, but his inability to provide strong arguments for his philosophy and his apparent expectation that Katara should easily forgive her mother’s killer prove he’s not actually mature enough to give moral guidance in a helpful way in such a difficult situation, in spite of what we’re told.

It’s hard to be a kid when the writers keep treating you like you’re more mature than you actually are.

2. Is Zuko’s response appropriate? Is he being self-serving?

For starters, we need to distinguish that Zuko is not trying to provide an alternative moral guidance to that offered by Aang. He’s not trying to be a moral guide at all, so that puts a lot of what he says and does in a different context.

What is Zuko trying to do? He’s trying to make up for his betrayal in Ba Sing Se. 

The beginning of the episode sets up that Katara is the last holdout on accepting Zuko as part of the group, and Zuko is bothered by this. (Though it is interesting that each of them saves the other’s life during the escape from the Western Air Temple, also hinting at how these two characters are mutually supportive of each other, antagonistic or not.) Because of this, some people have said Zuko pushes Katara to take revenge for selfish reasons, because he thinks it will make her accept him.

Well, Zuko doesn’t actually push Katara to do anything, so much as give her the opportunity. All he says to her is that he knows how to find the man who killed her mother, making no suggestion as to what she should do in that scenario. And when Aang challenges them, he says that Katara needs to find this man in order to get “closure and justice.” Where could Zuko have gotten the idea that confronting the person responsible for your childhood trauma is necessary for closure and justice?

Probably by doing it himself.

Zuko confronting Ozai is likely our best indication of how he’s imagining Katara confronting her mother’s killer is going to go. Zuko doesn’t try to punish Ozai, because he believes it’s the Avatar’s destiny to take down the Fire Lord. Instead, he essentially takes this as his opportunity to let his anger out so he can move past it…you know, that suggestion Aang made that I said it was weird for Zuko to scoff at? This is why. If he’s imagining Katara confronting her mother’s killer will go something like him confronting his father, which I think we have to assume is the case, then he and Aang would be more or less suggesting the same thing.

But Kya’s killer, like Ozai, also deserves punishment, and whose destiny is that? If this is the Avatar’s responsibility as well, Aang doesn’t seem to be jumping at the chance to do it - not once does he offer to accompany Katara on her quest. Legally, perhaps it’s the Fire Lord’s job to punish war criminals in his own armed forces - but Ozai’s obviously not going to do that, and who if anyone will succeed him is up in the air at this point. This is a classic setup for a revenge or vigilante plot - the proper authorities, the designated arbiters of justice are either unwilling or unable to act, so individuals who normally would not have the right to punish wrongdoers are the only ones who can.

Is seeking retribution in these circumstances morally perilous nonetheless? Absolutely. But to the extent that Zuko’s offer to confront her mother’s killer does move Katara to violence in this episode, it’s a principled rather than arbitrary use of violence. And the offer itself comes from a personal experience of how necessary the confrontation can be.

Which brings us back to earlier in the episode, and the reason Zuko is doing all of this in the first place. 

This is my favorite screencap of course I was going to find a reason to use it.

When Katara lays down her very legitimate grievance against Zuko, namely that she was the first person in their group to trust him, and that he betrayed that trust, Zuko is not dismissive of her anger, nor does he offer excuses. He just asks, “What can I do to make it up to you?” Zuko of all people understands the need to make amends for his own misdeeds. Katara of course only offers sarcastic, impossible suggestions (reconquer Ba Sing Se, bring her mother back), and here it would be very easy for Zuko to write her off and just accept that she’s always going to hate him. But, as he tells Sokka in the following scene, he doesn’t know why, but he does care what Katara thinks of him. We know why, though.

It’s because of his sense of honor. I hope I don’t need to explain to anyone how we know that Zuko has a deep-seated drive to the right thing, even if he’s sometimes confused about what the right thing is. But in this case, his instincts are good: he personally wronged Katara by his actions in Ba Sing Se in a way he didn’t hurt anyone else in the group, so he needs to do something equally personal to expiate his guilt against her in a way he didn’t need to for anyone else in the group.

And what he tries to offer her - the closure she’s never gotten over her mother’s death - really is the perfect thing. Their initial connection was forged because of their shared pain over losing their mothers, and as Zuko insightfully tells Sokka, Katara has connected her anger over that loss to her anger at him. This is not just some random favor he thinks he can do to get back in her good graces. It’s a specific redress of her actual grievance against him. It’s not selfish of him to want to give her that. It’s right.

But, there are some points against Zuko as well. He’s a little too quick to dismiss Aang’s advice, and a little mean about how he does it - though as I’ve said, in a way that I don’t think is quite in character. More gravely, during the actual confrontation with Yon Rha, Zuko is almost entirely hands-off, letting Katara do whatever she wants - apparently up to and including kill him. Again, Zuko is not trying to be Katara’s moral guide here, but that in itself is open to criticism. If killing Yon Rha really is crossing a line, then Zuko would be remiss in not trying to stop her.

The best light you can read this in is that Zuko trusts Katara not to cross that line - and he certainly shows no sign of surprise or disappointment when she does spare him. But I think this is reading a bit more into the text than is actually there. You could also take it as Zuko leaving the decision of whether Yon Rha deserved to die up to Katara, but again, this is a morally lax stance that is hardly above criticism.

So is Zuko’s response to Katara’s anger appropriate? Yes and no. His response to her anger at him absolutely is, demonstrating a healthy sense of compunction and a laudable desire to give due redress of grievances. How he responds to her anger at her mother’s killer is less childishly judgmental than Aang, but in a way that arguably runs to the opposite extreme of showing too little concern for the morality of her actions - which is itself odd, given Zuko’s established strong sense of morality and unwillingness to stand by and do nothing when someone else does something wrong.

“What can I do to make it up to you?” vs. “Guru Goody Goody”: Zuko’s moral compass is kind of a mixed bag in this episode tbh

3. Is Aang’s philosophy about forgiveness correct? Should Katara forgive her mother’s killer?

Obviously opinions will vary about this, but I can certainly give you mine.

Putting aside questions of Air Nomad philosophy vs. Water Tribe vs. Fire Nation - these are, after all, fictional cultures made up by modern American writers in a show for a modern American audience - forgiveness is generally valued by most people, though as C.S. Lewis puts it, “everyone says forgiveness is a lovely idea, until they have something to forgive”. Forgiveness is hard, especially when the offense is great and there is no easy way for the offender to make things right - as in Zuko’s case - or the offender has no interest in doing so - as is the case with Yon Rha. But Aang is right that forgiveness is necessary for healing, and I would say for other reasons as well. I’ll refrain from a full-blown treatise on forgiveness here, but I quoted Lewis, and if you have any idea what he wrote on the subject…yeah. That.

Katara says in the first argument with Aang that forgiving her mother’s killer is impossible. And as much as the episode’s final scene tries to present the resolution that Aang was right all along, Katara still definitively declares that she will never forgive him (though she does forgive Zuko). So even though Zuko says Aang was right about what Katara needed, Katara certainly doesn’t seem to think it’s that simple.

Pictured: Not someone who has accepted Aang’s philosophy.

I’ll be very honest. I hate this line. I wish she had said something like “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive him”, which would allow her to still have that residual anger to work through like the writers apparently wanted, acknowledging that forgiving Yon Rha can’t be as easy as Aang made it out to be, while still leaving the door open that she might get there someday. True forgiveness might be too much to expect of her at this point, but her rejection of it as impossible should at least be tempered, especially if, as Zuko’s dialogue in this scene and Sokka’s in the earlier scene imply, we’re meant to learn from this episode that Aang is right.

In spite of how poorly argued Aang’s position is, I do agree with his basic thesis about the importance of forgiveness, and I’m disappointed how many people seem to be ready to dismiss it outright in order to give Zuko the moral high ground in this episode. I don’t think that’s even necessary to defend Zutara as a ship, which brings us to our next point.

4. Does this episode show Zutara in a positive or a negative light?

“Come on, kids! ‘Zutara’ never would have lasted! It was just dark and intriguing.” - Bryan Konietzco

For those who buy into this claim that Zutara was too dark to be a functional romantic relationship, The Southern Raiders is usually the primary episode cited as proof. And it’s not a lighthearted episode. The creators described it as “probably one of the most intense episodes of the series”. It deals with unusually heavy subject matter for a half-hour timeslot cartoon for kids, and sees Katara struggling with some very dark feelings. But confronting darkness does not necessarily make a character, storyline, or ship dark.

Some argue that this episode shows Zuko bringing out the worst in Katara, and there is some truth in that, inasmuch as the effects of his betrayal in Ba Sing Se are still being felt. But Zuko is also making the effort to help her move past that, as well as her childhood trauma. In the course of their “field trip”, we see them working together effectively as a team, and in an understated but crucial scene, we see Katara open up to Zuko about that pain, unprompted, and Zuko once again offer her comfort - which no other character is ever shown to do.

“Your mother was a brave woman.” / “I know.”

Consolation is a different thing from moral guidance, but just as necessary. And where Aang’s attempts at the latter come across as inept, Zuko seems to know exactly the right thing to say to comfort Katara at that point. Katara’s memory of her mother’s death, even though she doesn’t have all the details at this point, makes it pretty clear that Kya died protecting her, which again highlights the similarities between Zuko and Katara - he also lost his mother because she was trying to protect him. I think it’s a pretty safe assumption that their repeatedly paralleled backgrounds are the reason these two characters seem to get each other so instinctively, and here we have another excellent example of that right in the middle of the episode that supposedly shows what a bad influence they are on each other.

And then of course it ends like this:

So dark. Very intrigue. Much dysfunction. Wow.

Are all of Zuko and Katara’s actions in this episode beyond reproach? No. Why do they have to be? What’s wrong with two characters confronting a difficult situation and making some questionable choices but ultimately both growing from the experience? That doesn’t prove that a theoretical romantic relationship between them would be doomed to failure. It actually provides a pretty good foundation for a healthy relationship that they can work through these things together. I mentioned earlier the reciprocal saves in the escape from the air temple, and I still maintain that’s emblematic of a larger pattern of Zuko and Katara mutually enriching each other’s character arcs.

Which is another important point to make here: this episode is not the be all end all of Zutara. We see so many more interactions between them, from the unexpected connection they make in Ba Sing Se to Katara’s friendly teasing in The Ember Island Players. And then there’s the four episode finale.

Bringing this back from the last meta for a victory lap.

So I would say that the portrayal of Zutara in this episode, in the context of the rest of their relationship in the show, is overwhelmingly positive. They’re not perfect, individually or together, but they’re a far cry from grimdark dysfunction. Furthermore, some of the morally questionable aspects of their actions in this episode are even narratively questionable as well, which brings me at last to my final point.

5. What were the writers trying to do with this episode?

I’ve already talked about how I find the effort to portray Aang as a wise moral guide unconvincing, how I think Zuko’s nastiest dismissal of him makes little sense given Zuko’s own prior experience, and how Katara’s ultimate refusal to forgive Yon Rha doesn’t fit with the episode’s apparently intended moral. But other scenes, like the air temple escape sequence, the clifftop argument between Zuko and Katara, and most of the “field trip”, are fantastically written. So what’s going on here?

Well, there’s always the Team Ehasz Conspiracy Theory.

It’s speculation time again!

For those unfamiliar, “Team Ehasz” consists of husband and wife writing duo Aaron Ehasz, the head writer for the series and writer of several episodes, and Elizabeth Welch Ehasz, who also wrote several episodes, including The Southern Raiders. Various iterations of the conspiracy theory range from giving them credit for many of the show’s most successful narrative choices to asserting that they had an entire alternative vision for the show that frequently clashed with Bryke’s, including that they supported the idea of Zutara. There’s little to no evidence for any of this, but it’s…vaguely plausible based on what we do know for certain was the work of Team Ehasz, and that’s all that’s necessary for it to pass into Zutara fandom urban legend.

One wrinkle of this theory - which if anyone does have verifiable sources on I’d love to see - is the rumor that Bryke were supposedly unhappy with the original draft of The Southern Raiders because they felt it was “too shippy”, and insisted the episode be revised accordingly. If it were true that there was a creative clash behind the scenes, that would explain a lot of the episode’s inconsistencies. 

Perhaps the unsuccessful attempt to show Aang as a wise moral authority was a Bryke addition. Maybe Zuko’s uncharacteristic mean comments were meant to make him less sympathetic, lest anyone ship him with Katara. We’ll probably never know for sure, but whatever happened in the writers’ room, the end result is an episode with a lot of great scenes and important character development that nonetheless fails to land a coherent message. Aang is wise beyond his years for giving shallow and immature arguments for his philosophy of forgiveness, but in the end Zuko and Katara learn he was right all along, except Katara doesn’t actually forgive the person Aang wanted her to forgive and never will. Um. Okay.

At least we got badass ninja!Zutara out of it.

Bonus Point: The Writing Fail Train Doesn’t End There!

The episode ends with Zuko asking Aang a very important question: If violence is truly never the answer, as Aang claims, then what is he going to do about a little problem named Ozai? We cut to credits and never see Aang’s immediate response to the question, but of course this is an issue in the finale, with the potential consequences of Aang’s refusal to kill Ozai famously made a non-issue thanks to an eleventh hour power-up granted to him by a deus ex machina.

Maybe if a magical lion turtle showed up to resolve my moral dilemmas for me, I’d be as naïve a pacifist as Aang, too.

[virtual-marmalade]

1 and 17 for both? (DnD asks)

1. What influenced or inspired the creation of this character?

Rala Arunsun, He was the first character I first when I was a kid, remade now that I actually know how to play D&D lmao. He’s a half-elf Rogue/Wizard because his parents are the characters of my parents: an elven rogue named Chastity and the human wizard Alar Arunsun. I conceptualize him as someone who adventures primarily because he likes getting into places he’s not necessarily supposed to be. Like his father he doesn’t respect the authority of lawmakers or nobles, and like his mother he is always getting into trouble. Unlike them, however, he also has a lot of compassion and generally prefers not to fight or kill people if he can avoid it.

Ureto Stileto,  A halfling cleric of Pelor, somewhat inspired by my FFXIV character Kindur Stileto (maybe his canonical cousin?) who is a Lalafell Ninja/Scholar. Like Kindur, Ureto also prefers knives to any other weapon, which is odd for a priest but they are easy to conceal in his vestments if he needs to do that. I also think of both of them as being empathetic and willing to take direct action to improve the world. While Kindur expressed this by joining the Rogues to clean up the criminal underworld of Limsa (and eventually going on to save the world like every other MMO character ever lmao), Ureto does so by offering Pelor’s mercy and forgiveness to the oppressed and vilified and by supporting others with holy blessings. When nonviolence does not pay off, however, Ureto is quite willing to enact divine retribution on any bad actors that threaten him, his allies, or any innocent third parties. 

17. If they were in possession of a trio of wishes, what would their three wishes be?

To answer this I’ll have to get a little specific about the campaign we’re playing, I think? We’re doing a game we’re calling Riverton, which is about a small fantasy trading town at a crossroads on a river and the larger region surrounding it. There are other, bigger cities, but the focus is on this small town that grows as we solve problems around it, make the trade routes safer, and generally bring more money and fame into it. The twist is that we change DMs every session or so depending on who has an adventure prepared to run, so in that way I’m both a DM and a player. So all that being said:

Rala, One of the plotlines that I introduced when I brought Rala into the game is that an excessive amount of summoning and ritual in this world is weakening the boundaries between this reality and others, and as a result he sort of “fell” out of another dimension into this one thanks to the Goddess Istus. Also there’s a certain world-ending dark force that may be on its way to the world of Riverton soon (yes I’m kinda doing an Adventure Zone because sometimes I’m that guy lmao)… That in mind, 

1) Prevent that force from attacking any more worlds. 

I don’t think this wish would work necessarily, but he’d definitely try it anyway… 

2) Take away the power of the mysterious hooded man he met on his last adventure.

On his last adventure, some evil wizard literally annihilated an entire city. It wasn’t even a small town but like a major trading hub, port, its own city-state even. It was terrifying, but luckily the mage decided he had bigger fish to fry than to kill Rala and co. Also he now has a wicked evil artifact that’s gonna make him even worse. That is simply too much power for one person, and I somehow doubt that even a wish could kill him as he is now. I’ll settle for removing his ability to do magic instead.

3) To return to his home world of Faerun, back to Waterdeep where he was born.

Interdimensional travel is really hard. Magnitudes harder even than projecting into other planes in the same planar system. He’s only really in this world through some incredible God-level magic and the convenient fact that this reality happens to be relatively easy to get into. Rala wants to do what good he can here and have lots of adventures in this new land, but ultimately he often feels deeply homesick and really wants to get back someday.

Ureto, I haven’t played Ureto in a little while, so I don’t think he’s really aware of or involved in the same plotlines Rala is. So far most of his adventures have been about stopping cultist groups from achieving their ends, whether those be gathering treasure to appease their god, summoning a warrior spirit that they worship, or desecrating an ancient temple of Pelor. Other than that he’s mostly concerned with keeping the faith and inspiring the people.

1) Restore the jungle.

For about a month or two of in-game time, the jungles to the southwest of Riverton have suddenly died and been filled with undead people and animals. Ureto wasn’t there when it happened, but I feel like it would be a priority for him to undo that particular curse.

2) Control of his own Temple of Pelor in Riverton.

After word Ureto’s heroics began to spread throughout Riverton, the primary church of Pelor in the nearby metropolis of Autumnvale sent a team of clergy and architects to build a new temple in Riverton. Ureto wants to be in charge there because deep down he thinks he knows Pelor’s message and desires better than other clergy of similar status. He thinks that he should be the one to bring Pelor’s hope to the citizens, not some learned, stuck-up priest who spends more time studying scripture than actually seeing what the world is like. This might actually happen for him depending on what the church thinks of his service after the new temple is actually finished.

3) A direct connection to Pelor.

Ureto has never has a real two-way dialogue with his god. This is not unusual, as only those who are very strong in faith can cast the spells that allow that to happen, but sometimes Ureto does have his doubts. He’s lied to protect his friends, acted rashly out of fear, and killed people who maybe could have been spared. He wishes for a direct connection to Pelor so that he can be sure he’s on the right path and that his lord extends his mercy even when those who ought to be his shining light in the mortal world make missteps. 

(X)

Ok, that was way too long, and maybe too much information but I really put a lot of thought into my characters and the world they live in so I hope it’s not too boring to read for someone who doesn’t know anything about them >_>;

Thanks for the excuse to write about them though; it’s good to get this stuff down and flesh them out a bit better.