#gritty the Druid

[vodkacheesefries]

I officially have three saves going and I realized my Tavs accidentally fit the "McDonald's coffee" meme a little too perfectly

Info dump under the cut! Spoilers ahoy, read at ur own risk

Io the Cleric (she/they)

Very practical sort, camp mom even though their girlfriend Shadowheart is the dedicated healer. Carries snacks for everyone.

She gets very upset at first when people default to her choices and sorta view her as the leader and then get mad when she makes a choice they don't like. Doesn't do great with the pressure.

Secretly also only recently learned how to swim but gotta be brave for the girlfriend

Also romancing Halsin because I couldn't in Gritty's playthrough (because they romanced Wyll) but I'm also a sucker for the tall/small trope

But goddamn do both Shadowheart and Halsin make me/Io blush sometimes

Technically broke her oath for her paladin mutliclass because she wouldn't kill the vampire spawn and released them but we had 1000 gold handy so everything's fine, totally didn't send them into their own mini faith crisis

Very much has a Ninth Doctor "Just this once, everybody lives!" moment when she somehow managed to successfully keep all of the Harper's alive at Moonrise. However they do feel deeply guilty for not being able to talk Ketheric down.

Has two moms who love her very much and will be thrilled when she brings home a boyfriend AND a girlfriend

"Gritty" the Druid (they/them)

What's their real name? Who knows! Gritty doesn't care, and likely, doesn't remember.

Being a druid they are frequently actually gritty but if they were able to they'd stay in a hot bath for hours

Favorite wild shape is the spider. Actually quite fond of spiders overall. They think they're misunderstood, sorta like tieflings.

Hooked up with Lae'zel at the tiefling party, but broke it off because Gritty has a chill kinda stoner vibe and Lae'zel's intensity was just a biiit too much for them, though they grow to be best friends. Gritty is super depressed when she leaves to go back to take care of Vlaakith, even tho they are completely supportive.

But boy did they fall head over heels unexpectedly for Wyll

Secretly really relieved he didn't want to take over as duke. They weren't keen on staying in the city.

Like your typical newlywed couple, their honeymoon is going to the Hells to kill a demon 💕

Knox the Rogue (they/he)

I literally just started the Dark Urge origin so I know as much as they do about their past so there's not a whole lot for me to work with outside of how I'm building their personality

Trying their damnedest to resist the urge and squash it down

Sorta sardonic, but it's mostly just to cover up how fuckin scared they are

They're jealous of folks like Karlach who can let their guard down enough to feel jovial, even despite the stress they're all under

Right now feels safest with Astarion, and that will hopefully continue because I neeeeed to do his romance route

Feels really bad about Alfira. They want to want to help people, not to want to hurt them.

[vintagerpg]

Looking at some recent RPG books this week starting with this beauty, Caer Mundus: The Lost Realm (2021). It’s a system agnostic attempt to reconstruct a plausible Celtic world for RPGs (the people we call the Celts didn’t write anything down, so what we firmly know about their culture is pretty scant). It’s emphatically psychedelic, with mind-altering substances (particularly mushrooms and red honey) fueling magic, visions and bravery.

There’s a ton of tools in the book: dogs, horses, heroic rivals, a system for tracking acclaim (and social stigma), tables galore. There are templates that present Celtic versions of Bards, Druids, Rangers and Warriors that can be laid over most system’s character creation systems. There are, of course, many spirits and monsters derived from the surviving mythologies of the British Isles (selkies, dullahan, coraniaid and so on).

Perhaps the most interesting part of the book is the epic quest line, the Song of the Blaze Above. It begins with an omen of apocalypse, which spurs the three old kings to attempt to purge the ellyllon, a sort of fae culture that has co-existed with humanity. The quest sees the players recruited to unite the three kingdoms (installing new kings if necessary) in order to prepare for the coming battle with the true threat: an army of ogres (who, through their naming, are highly implied to be Romans, at least metaphorically). That battle has three potential flavors: one where humanity can triumph, one where humanity is doomed and one where the ogres are a red herring and the fae are the true threat after all. It’s neat to have all the events mapped out, and pretty clear how you can map them to a system of your choice. Along the way, characters grow from scrawny whelps to epic heroes. There’s an Afanc. What more could you possibly want?

Grim and gritty art throughout, in the vein of Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay, but slightly lighter and more realistic. You can catch glimmers of a way of life here. The cover is by Sawblade, whose art has decorated many a death metal album cover. My pal Darkwizard Berserker did the logo.

[theresattrpgforthat]

i want to destroy the god king and begin an anarchist uprising. culminating in participating in the aftermath building a new world

You and me both buddy. Let’s get started.

THEME: Destroy God

Dethrone Skeleton God, by emmy verse.

DETHRONE SKELETON GOD. THAT IS ALL YOU HAVE TO DO.

In this gmless role playing game you will set out on a journey to find and dethrone the aforementioned god. You will need some d6s, a d12, and some writing materials.

This game pulls a lot of inspiration from some pretty stellar games, including No Stone Unturned, EXTRACAUSAL, Trophy, and Blades in the Dark. You will play racing against three Fallout Tracks, which track the collapse of the material world, the immaterial world, and the Skeleton God’s Power. When all tracks are full, the game is over, and you narrate how the world ends.

If nobody in your group wants the burden/responsibility of running a game, this game is an excellent option as it is both GM-less and lightweight. It’s only 16 pages long and covers creating location elements and exploring them as a group. Everything is collaborative, so if you’re interested in games that let you come up with a story together as you go, you might want to check out this game.

Dead Gods, by Trollish Delver Games.

After the Cataclysm of Heaven it all changed. Murdered gods fell from the sky, sundering the land and casting their sacred relics about the world. From the woodwork crawl Warcults, scavengers of god-relics to further their own twisted gains. The Eternal seek power over death itself. The Order of the Stars seek relics to unlock god-like omniscience. The Pale Druids imbibe relics to acquire power over nature itself. The Black Maw will create a new, hungrier god under their control. 

Pick up a lovingly-designed weird cult and pit them against your friend in a desperate effort to grab a sacred god-relic in this miniatures skirmish game. Each player will control a number of different kinds of war cult members, and there are 4 war cults to embody in the upcoming skirmish. Great for PvP and lovers of combat, but if you want narrative you’ll want to pick up something else or mostly RP it out. You can also check out Unholy Scavengers, for more relics, more scenarios, more models - more more more!

Karanduun - Make God Bleed, by makapatag.(@makapatag)

Karanduun is a modern Filipino Epic RPG about worthless heroes dismantling God, whatever cycle of oppression that must be.  Inspired by modern Filipino folklore and culture. You play as young heroes who must make their legend known and become a legendary Karanduun by making God (whichever oppressive system and tyrant that is) bleed.

Lovers of Kill Six Billion Demons will probably get a big kick out of this game. The god Batala is already dead, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for some rebellion of your own. There are demons, corrupt angels, and other Kings of the Earth to defeat, in a post-American world inspired by the Philippines. If you’re looking for some narrative play, this game has got you covered, with rules inspired by Exalted 1e and PbtA. You can check out the physical version of this game on SoulMuppet’s website!

Skorne, by Dreaming Dragonslayer.

You are renegades, part of mankind’s insurrection against SKORNE who is devil prince, commander of demon rulers and their armies, and the darkness that reigns. Overthrow the evil Tyrants. Free chained captives. Fight to the last man.

Part of the NSR movement, Skorne is inspired by media such as Berserk, MORK BORG, and games like Dark Souls and Elden Ring. The game itself is only 4 pages long, with a really interesting system for character creation. You roll for your abilities and then use their values to determine your starting kit. The language in the game is also great for putting you into the fiction, such as the instructions found for character name choice:

“In the beginning, give thy renegade a name, though it will not save them.”

You want gritty and dire circumstances? You want to kill demon princes? You wanna play a game with random tyrant generation? This is for you.

Extreme Meatpunks Forever, by Sinister Beard Games.

"In the beginning, there was meat. A decaying chunk of flesh from a dying god, hurtling through the void of space, thousands of miles wide. A million eyes, a billion hands grasping for purchase against nothingness itself.  This is where we live.”

EXTREME MEATPUNKS FOREVER is a tabletop roleplaying game where you’ll play as a gang of queer antifascists in a strange place called Meatworld. Spinning through space on the screaming corpse of a dead god under the glow of an absent sun, the people of Meatworld harvest its flesh to make their technology.

Embody your queer rage and kill fascists in meat-mechs in Extreme Meatpunks Forever. A PbtA game, this option is narrative-heavy and allows you to pick from some pretty metal weapons, including (but not limited to) Excellent Seasoning, A Bit Stick What Has Shrapnel In It, and Deathfucker Cannon. In your downtime, you can kiss your friends and work to heal and deal with your trauma. If you want a game that feels metal and also presents you with extremely punchable enemies, this is your game!

Other Recommendations

If you want some more recommendations you can also check out the Attack and Dethrone God Jam on itch.io, or my Revolution recommendation post.

If you’re interested in what happens after you end the world, then I recommend my Post-Apocalyptic Community Building recommendations!

[that-ari-blogger]

An Interesting Character

Usually, when character is brought up in discussion, it is in reference to the people. If you think of the characters of The Owl House for example, you probably think of Luz, Eda, Bellos, Hunter, and Principal Bump.

But, by pure mechanics, a character is just a force at work in a story. One with personality, and agency, sure, but it's just a force.

This means that, if you squint a little, the Boiling Isles itself is a character, and the Wild Magic is an extension of that. It certainly gets treated like a character by the story, especially in Adventures In Elements.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Before I start, let me give one attempt to argue with the pedants. By definition, a character is a person. So, hear me out, the Boiling Isles is literally the body of a titan, who actively talks to Luz later on in the series. That is my justification.

So... why is wild magic a thing?

I'm not asking for an in-universe answer, because that is multifaceted and not really the point. I'm asking why the writers decided to include this idea, and what effect it has on the story?

The phrase "magic is..." is used four times in this episode. Once by Eda, and thrice in quick succession by Luz. And it is worth taking a look at these statements.

"I know my lessons seem weird, but this is what wild magic is all about! Making a connection with nature. The earliest witches understood that. Human witches need to understand it, too. You wanna learn a second spell? ... Then you have to learn from the island."

There is a lot going on with Eda's guidance. First up is the small detail about the tense. The earliest witches knew that magic is about nature, implying now it is different. But mainly, this is an explanation of the nitty gritty of The Owl House's magic system. It's about two things, nature and connection. And I want to delve into that a little bit.

There is something fascinating about Bellos and his roots in witch-hunting. Because that was specifically defined by an opposition to things, rather than any actual views of its own.

Malleus Maleficarum, the book that kicked off the witch-hunts is a fascinating read, as long as you understand what it is that you are reading and don't use it as a set of instructions. Internet Archive has a translated version by Prof. Christopher S. Mackay, complete with commentary from latter authors that I highly recommend.

This single book caused a ton of harm to people, and you can examine it from almost any angle you like. The original was written by a terrible person with terrible intentions, and I also recommend Overly Sarcastic Productions' video on Werewolves for more information on that section of history.

What I want to focus on is the vernacular. References "devils" about 400 times and namedrops "witches" with similar regularity. The word "demon" comes up over 1000 times, and the word "pagan" comes up about 40 times. Specifically in reference to "pagan nations" which is about as racist as it sounds, as well as a ton of using the word as a catch all insult ("x type of person is worse than a pagan", etc. etc.). I don't want to get into the theology and history of this word, because it's a complicated minefield. But in this context, specifically around Europe in this time period, it means just about all regional faiths and mythologies. Celtic, Norse, Germanic, and several others.

Fun fact about me, I am Welsh, which means is that I have a connection to Welsh mythology, and so my analysis of wild magic is through that lens. If you have an understanding of other similar cultures, let me know, I'm fascinated to learn how that affects the reading of the Owl House.

Now, Modern Druidism is a living religion that I am not well versed in and want to treat with the respect befitting any living faith. So, I am sticking to what I know about the history and mythology and trying to make the differentiation between those two and Modern Druidism clear.

So, Druids in Celtic mythology are religious leaders, and peacekeepers. But what is possibly the most famous thing about them is their connection to nature. And here is where the analysis of The Owl House comes into play. Because the Owl House takes great care to associate magic with the natural, and Bellos with the unnatural.

"It means magic is a gift from the island. It means magic is everywhere. Magic is everywhere!"

Bellos creates artificial magic through his artificial staff and the destruction of the Palismen to fuel his life. Hunter wields an artificial staff, and in Adventures In Elements, Amity trains with an artificial training wand, which is linked to Bellos through the coven system.

But you would think that Luz's runes would also count as artificial. So what gives?

This episode shows them as part of nature more than the more refined spell circles. Luz's magic is that connection to the island in its purest, rawest form, and as I have said before, Luz's greatest strength is her ability to connect.

The dynamic between Wild Magic and Coven Magic isn't a dynamic between the artificial and the natural, it's a dynamic between empathy and utilitarianism. Wild Magic borrows, or is gifted, Coven magic takes and uses for its own ends. They are similar concepts, but it's in the minutia that the meaning comes out.

Final Thoughts

There is one final thing that Wild Magic reminds me of, and its off on a limb a bit. I currently live in Australia, and while Aboriginal spirituality is varied and complex and not my story to tell, I have been gifted this piece of advice that I would like to share: Humans don't own the land, we are a part of it, just as the trees and the beasts and the storms and the fires. Humans are mere custodians, our duty is to watch over and protect, and to connect.

I thought that was relevant.

I am away next week, but I'll be back in the new year with some analysis of The First Day, so stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

[halsinsbiceps]

So apparently I don't have an account on AO3, which I thought I did.

Anyway, if anyone is interested in my F!Tav/Halsin slow-burner, please give this a read. Once I have an account up and running, I'll post to AO3.

Please be kind, as this is my first fanfiction since I was like 14 and my first piece of writing I've ever introduced to the Internet.

Fic below the cut.

A Great and Sudden Change

A Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfiction

Chapter 1

Enelya woke face-down in the sand.

Granules clung to her hands and cheek in wet clumps; water soaked her leather druid armor and chilled her skin. A dull ache throbbed behind her left eye. Thick, fishy air gusted her hair into her face, along with the acrid scent of smoke and charred flesh.

The moment she cracked her eyes open to the light, the throbbing exploded into a blinding headache. If she had not already been on the ground she would have been leveled by the pain.

So instead she lay with her cheek pressed into the muck, and willed herself to remember what had happened.

She had just left Baldur's Gate, well-rested and with a restocked pack, headed east along the River Chionthar on her way to the Emerald Grove to meet with the druids there. The birds had been singing happily and the sun was hot on her face when everything fell silent, and a shadow overtook her.

Then she was trapped in a box…or some sort of pod? Flashes of tentacles and flesh, wet and pliant, flooded her mind. A small worm, teeth bared as it neared her face, panic rising in her chest. Pain seared through her face before everything fell into darkness.

Next she saw a humanoid creature with yellow skin in shining armor, then a woman with black hair and large green eyes. In the next flash she saw demons, imps...and a mind flayer, its squid-like face vivid in her mind's eye, and its voice pushing into her mind as it commanded her to the helm of the Illithid ship. Finally, she remembered the ground rushing up to meet her as she plummeted from the sky.

Enelya promptly retched into the sand.

When her stomach finally stopped heaving, she pushed herself onto her knees and wiped gritty vomit from her chin and cheek. Keeping her eyes closed, she blindly reached into the satchel hanging at her side, feeling her way through the bag until her fingers wrapped around the cool neck of a glass bottle.

The healing potion worked quickly to wash away the bitter bile coating her tongue. The throbbing behind her eye all but disappeared, while her nausea and aches lifted almost immediately. She stoppered the bottle with a relieved sigh, then tentatively opened her eyes.

The first thing she noticed, aside from the quickly setting sun, was the smoking wreckage of the nautiloid. Black smoke plumed in ominous pillars into the orange and pink sky. Tentacles the size of trees lay limp all around her. Following their line of destruction through crushed rocks and snapped trees, she saw the collapsed body of the ship through the smoke.

Gods, it was huge.

Enelya stood shakily. The warmth of the sun was fading as it sunk behind the hills and cliffs that surrounded her. She needed to find shelter, and quickly.

She came upon the first body as she rounded a rocky outcropping. She felt bile rise in her throat as she took in the mangled flesh of the fisherman. One of the brain creatures from the ship lay still in a pool of blood next to it. As Enelya continued down the beach, more and more bodies cropped up, each flanked by still more brain creatures.

After the seventh body her stomach heaved again. She caught herself on a rock as she gagged, her palms snagging the rough surface.

"Are you alright?"

Enelya instinctively pulled her dagger from her belt and spun as her training overtook her sickness for the moment. Green eyes met hers. The woman from the ship stood before her, her hands raised in a sign of peace. "I'm sorry," she said. Her voice was soft, almost child-like. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Enelya shook her head. The fear waned into relief, though her heart still banged against her ribs. She sheathed her dagger. "It's alright," she replied with a sigh. "I'm rather jumpy, it seems."

The woman nodded. "As am I. Makes sense, I suppose." She hesitated, then asked, "Do you know where we are?"

"I don't."

The two regarded each other warily for a moment. The woman was well-armored, although Enelya did not recognize the markings adorning her breastplate. Her dark hair hung over one shoulder in a banded braid, exposing ears that were not quite as pointed as Enelya's own.

"I'm Shadowheart," the woman said suddenly. "And I wanted to thank you, for rescuing me up there. You had precious time to waste, but still stopped to help me. It says quite a lot about your character, especially with that gith pushing you along."

A shiver ran across Enelya's mind as her emotions were assaulted. Disgust and suspicion flowed through her, but not at the woman before her. The githyanki's face flashed before her eyes, a sneer twisting her scarred face. As quickly as the emotions came, they went, leaving Enelya feeling almost empty.

Shadowheart pressed a hand to her temple. "Damn," she said. "I forgot about that. Haven't seen anyone else around here. Have you?"

Enelya shook her head again, still reeling herself from the sudden onslaught of emotions that were not her own. "It's only you, me, and these poor souls, I fear."

Shadowheart eyed the darkening sky. "Well, either way, we should find shelter. Tomorrow we can look for a healer."

"'We'?"

Shadowheart gave her a small smile. "Our odds are better together, don't you think? Besides, I think I can trust you. Why save me just to slit my throat?"

Enelya relaxed slightly and returned the smile. "I appreciate that."

"Come on then. I saw a fortress or something this way. It's not much, but it'll keep the wind at bay."

Shadowheart led her down the beach, away from the bodies. The silence that fell over them wasn't quite comfortable, but they quickly fell into sync and began collecting bits of driftwood at Enelya's suggestion. Once they reached the ruins, they had enough between them to keep a small fire going through the night.

Once the fire was lit and roaring quietly between them, Enelya pressed her back against the cold stone wall of the ruins. A heavy door was set into the wall, but it was locked up right. Shadowheart lamented the loss of real shelter as she jiggled the knob.

"Just not in the cards for us," she sighed. She sank down on the other side of the door from Enelya, keeping a fair distance between them. They watched the fire in silence.

"Enelya."

Shadowheart turned her head. "Sorry?"

"I'm Enelya." She waved her hand. "I forgot to tell you earlier, when you introduced yourself."

"Ah." Shadowheart's gaze returned to the flames. Embers flew into the air with a crackle, and she followed them with her eyes. "I suppose I can forgive your lack of manners this time."

Enelya laughed quietly, a sound that surprised her. "Careful, you don't know me yet."

"True." Shadowheart shot her an amused look. "But I have a feeling we'll get along just fine."

Enelya sighed and rested her head against the wall. After another moment she looked over at Shadowheart. "Where are you from?"

She sensed the other woman's uneasiness in her hesitation. "Baldur's Gate," she said after a pause. "I was headed there when that thing took me."

Enelya waited for her to continue. When she didn't, Enelya said, "I'd just left Baldur's Gate myself. It was my first visit. Quite a town, isn't it?"

Shadowheart snickered and closed her eyes. "You could say that. Where were you going?"

"East, towards Elturel." Enelya shifted into a more comfortable position.

"You're a druid?"

"That's right. From the High Forest."

Shadowheart sighed. "I've heard stories about the druids. It always sounds so peaceful, living out amongst nature. Romantic, even."

Enelya didn't reply, and they sat in comfortable silence again for a time. Shadowheart's head lolled to the side, and she jerked awake with a mumbled apology.

"Get some rest," Enelya told her the third time she startled. "I'll take first watch."

While Shadowheart quietly dozed against the wall of the ruin, Enelya tried to quiet the worrying thoughts flitting through her mind. In the morning, they would find out where they were, and with any luck, a healer.

And this would all be over.

[velvet-cupcake-games]

Made Marion Mini-FAQ, Sept. 23

Just a few bits and bobs that I can talk about at this point in development!

Q: Players commit to their route ending at the end of Chapter 3 and then experience one of two different Chapter 4s. Does that make each chapter 4 choice-free?

There are still choices in the Chapter 4s! Many of the game's major love scenes are in the relevant character's Chapter 4, so you'll have the love scene choice if you have explicit text on. The rest of the choices are for the purpose of role-playing and making decisions about Marion's future. They won't make major changes to the ending, but they'll let you put a personal stamp on your endgame experience.

Except, of course for that choice. The one that leads either to victory or to a bad end. Which choice is it? You'll find out!

Some of your earlier choices can also cause minor changes in Chapter 4. For instance, in Sherwood Common Marion can write either an angry or a diplomatic letter to her father. This may affect whether he appears in the epilogue segment at the end of a Sherwood character's route.

Q: What kind of experience does the option to turn off explicit text provide? Does it allow for asexual relationships?

Because one of the main goals of the Made Marion project was to provide mature-rated love scenes for adult otome/amare fans who were interested in them, we don't have the option for asexual relationships in this game. Marion is allosexual by canon and it's obvious from the way she views the world from the very beginning of the game.

When explicit text is off, the player reads a shortened, non-explicit version of scenes that involve sexual activity. I try to get across the emotions that the characters are feeling without getting into the nitty-gritty of things, but it's still stated that the characters are having a sexual encounter.

Explicit text is ON by default in Made Marion, so players who do not wish to read such text should turn it off in the Options menu ASAP. Once a scene with explicit text has begun, turning the option off won't work until the next explicit scene (not that we're loaded with them, it's just how the script flow of the game works). I may be able to program a "break-out" button later on, but it won't be available as of the first Early Access release.

Q: Characters in Made Marion drink "tisane." Is that tea or something else?

A tisane is a hot drink with an herbal infusion. Many tisanes, also known as herbal teas, do not contain actual tea leaves. Tea is a very specific beverage, and its history in Europe is tied up in colonial-era violence. Instead of trying to work that into my alternate-magical-Europe history, I decided that it made the most sense for Avalons to simply drink non-tea-containing tisanes. Considering that plant druids are all about making magical hybrid plants, they probably have some delicious ones! They are caffeine-free but may contain other types of stimulants.

When Avalons aren't drinking alcohol, there's a good chance that they're drinking tisane. Thanks to druidic knowledge and the environmental protections inherent in the Pact, Avalon drinking water is way cleaner than the water was in Medieval England. But as Avalon science doesn't yet have a working knowledge of microorganisms, boiling your water is still the safest way to go.

[frostedlemonwriter]

Nine Sentences, Nine People

Post nine sentences and tag nine people. Easy, right?

With an otherworldly strength, the druid dragged the woman across the gritty expanse of the beach, her body left a slight trail in the sand. They approached an ancient hut, a resilient structure crafted from a combination of stone and weathered wood. Years of the relentless assault of countless storms and the sustained onslaught of salty gusts had left their mark, inscribed lines of endurance onto its surface. Air and atmosphere were alive with the pungent scent of the sea, carried by the strong wind that whipped through the area. Dried fish, strung between sturdy wooden stakes, danced and swayed in synchrony with the squalls. Ascended from the heart of the roof was a makeshift chimney from which smoke billowed and twisted in the air. Above a crackling fire, a small cauldron simmered a sickly green liquid that oozed an acrid aroma. As the druid pulled his hood down, revealed a face etched with wisdom and age, a faint smile crept across his lips, mirrored the satisfaction that glimmered in his pale blue eyes.

I know that's more than nine lol

Thanks @orphanheirs for tagging me!

Tagging: @leahnardo-da-veggie @cljordan-imperium @veradragonjedi @saltysupercomputer @winterandwords @csdarkfantasy @agirlandherquill @haunted-orange @artsietango and an open tag for whomever!

[dabblingreturns]

Does anyone love the supernatural for

It's tangled family dynamics

Gritty haunted Americana setting(yes I relize it was filmed in BC and that Texas never looks like Texas in the show)

Urban fantasy magical politicing

Juxtaposition between trama and some truly funny jokes

Gayness

Muscle cars

But wish it was

More compact

More consistent

Explicitly gay

Didn't kill of ALL of its female charecters

Actually payed attention to seanery so that Denver looks different from oklahoma?

Suggest that maybe what this family actually needs is a bit more therapy?

Then have I got the book series for you.

The Adam Binder series by David R. Slayton

White trash warlock

Trailer park Trickster

Dead beat druid

This is not a paid promotion....i dont know the author.....but sometimes there are books that make me happy...and I think they would make other people happy. Anyway...they should be available at your local library, indie book store, or online

Also this car. This car is important:

[Image: white Oldsmobile cutlass]

[thethirdgenesisbooks]

What is Magipunk?

Magipunk (also called Magepunk, Spellpunk, Aetherpunk, or Dungeonpunk) is a genre of fantasy taking place in a world where all the technology runs on magic. Combustion engines in such a setting may only work because of fire elementals inside, or instead of telephones people may have circlets that allow them to communicate telepathically with someone far away. In such a setting, magic is not some mysterious force, it is a science that has been honed to make life easier.

The roots of magipunk can be traced back to a blend of genres, primarily fantasy, steampunk, and cyberpunk. Elements of high fantasy, such as wizards and magical artifacts, are paired with the gritty, dystopian settings typical of cyberpunk or steampunk. The resulting genre is a captivating fusion of the supernatural and the mechanical.

Like its parent genres, magipunk often explores themes of power, corruption, and the human condition. Characters navigate a world where magic is both a blessing and a curse, where technology brings progress but also danger. Furthermore, such technology often raises questions such as “just what makes us human?” and “Even if someone is not human, can they still be a person?” These themes are often underscored by rich world-building, intricate plots, and captivating character development.

The appeal of magipunk lies in its ability to blend fantastical elements with familiar settings. A wizard may walk with a staff and wear a pointed hat as he walks into a private detective’s office. Lightning elementals powering a city’s grid might cause a major crisis when they go on strike. A dark lord may rise to threaten the world with his army of steam-powered robots. It offers a fresh take on traditional fantasy tropes while exploring themes that resonate with modern audiences.

Some popular books that fall into this genre include “Mistborn” by Brandon Sanderson, “Mage Against the Machine” by Shaun Barger, or “The Iron Druid Chronicles” by Kevin Hearne.

My own fantasy series, “The Third Genesis,” also falls into this category. It has automatons (robots) powered by magical cores, people send messages instantly through enchanted wooden boxes called “bendboxes,” and there are airships that fly because of enchantments placed on them.

[queer-ragnelle]

On the topic of misogyny in retellings, do you have any thoughts on the male characters’ misogyny in Bernard Cornwell’s Warlord Chronicles series? I feel like it could fall under “gritty realism” but sometimes it leaves a bad taste for me?

Yeah I think we're in agreement. The Winter King wasn't the worst but it certainly wasn't the greatest either. Look no further than how Ladwys was treated by Owain while everyone just listened to her scream and ignored it. Oh but she's "deserving" of rape bc Gundleus is evil so punishing her is punishing him. Or something. And matters worsened in the sequels Enemy of God and Excalibur.

Like the thing is, it felt to me as if Bernard Cornwell wrote a grimdark story, and attempted to include compelling women who go through hell, but missed the mark in a big way. All the rapist murdering shithead men die terribly (rest in piss Owain, Gundelus, Tanaburs, Lancelot etc) so they're all punished narratively for their actions sooner or later. But at the same time, I don't recall that any characters voice criticism of Merlin's sexual relationship with young Nimue or 30yo Tristan's sexual relationship with 15yo Isolde. That's where you can see the author's disturbing view of women and girls seeping through. Even if Ceinwyn was written well, what does that matter against Arthur and Derfel allowing Mark to burn Isolde at the stake bc Tristan couldn't control himself around a teenager? And then Arthur goes and marries Isolde's sister Argante in Excalibur. "She's too young for Arthur," says Derfel and Ceinwyn. That's what writers call "a sign post," which is supposed to signal to the reader that the author doesn't agree with the actions of the character by having other character's call attention to it. Okay, fine, that is there. But why is young Olwen also sexualized? Then how was Derfel persuaded to believe that Isolde/Tristan was somehow less inappropriate than Isolde/Mark? Oh right, bc Mark is fat so he's "gross," as Arthur called him, while Tristan is such a good, handsome guy. Therefore morally pure. Riiiiight. Cringe. It's deeply uncomfortable to contemplate.

My hope was the show that came out in 2023 would address a lot of this but somehow it's legit worse if you can believe it. They made Owain a decent guy. (Which actually makes his death stupid especially bc Arthur mourns his "friend?" That was his rapist thieving coworker with a good sword arm at best but okay.) And showrunners cut Tanaburs and Lancelot entirely. None of that actually benefitted the show whatsoever.

For example, in The Winter King book, Derfel returns from Ynys Trebes and Bishop Bedwin tells him Nimue has been sent to the Isle of the Dead by the local law enforcement bc she was butting heads with Christians and she ultimately killed some people in a church. Not great but I see how the narrative ended up there and Derfel went to retrieve her immediately. She had only been there so long bc Derfel wasn't even in the country. While Derfel is escaping with Nimue, Galahad comes to meet them and help.

But in the show, Derfel never goes to Ynys Trebes. He's just....around, as a side character. Meanwhile Sansum is trying to establish a church in Nimue's front yard or whatever and then his men get sick and die. They blame Nimue for "cursing" them. Arthur himself then sends Nimue to the Isle of the Dead, only for Derfel to play detective and discover the place where Sansum's men retrieved water from had a dead animal in it. They were unknowingly poisoning themselves. Nimue didn't do anything but spit on Sansum (which was deserved), she didn't kill anyone. Derfel then goes to the Isle of the Dead to retrieve Nimue. Alone. Only later does Arthur and Sagramore meet them to escape so Arthur can be like "Haha oopsie! My mistake! Will you help me talk the Druids into being my subjects--I mean working with me to get the kingdom in order for evil baby Prince--I mean normal baby Prince Mordred?" It's obscene.

So all around, The Warlord Chronicles isn't the pinnacle of literature if one is seeking an author who drinks respect women juice. Look elsewhere. But for all its faults, I don't think it's unreadable either. I don't regret reading it. There are beautiful passages and fascinating characters and I did enjoy it as a whole. But certainly there are really rough aspects that I could have done without.

[hihopelessromantics]

Meliodas Never "Betrays" the Demons Au

Season 1 Pt.1

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Trigger Warnings: brief discussion of suicidal ideation, implied neglect, implied violence, implied annihilation of a city, dead animal, eating said dead animal, magical mind fuckery

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first episode and prologue to the Adventures!

---two mothers in a place that’s no place for kids —

Far, far, away in ye olde land of Britannia, there’s a fortress in the depths of a forest that serves as the last line of defense for the small, growing kingdom of Liones. The capabilities of the warriors within are unknown, but over the years, they have saved whole research centers from extermination, which, in turn, prevents the downfall of Liones - a kingdom formed in the gritty jaws of the most unexplored, wild sections of Britannia. They say the first village there persisted on nothing but hope and spite - which could be said for most villages, if you understand the ins and outs of living sustainably, but I digress -  but it has a pretty good sized population now. The skilled use of the information therein and quantity of holy knights has landed Liones a reputation as one of the safest small kingdoms in the entirety of Britannia. 

The leader of this fortress, Wilmot Fane, is leading a ceremony on the summer equinox: a heartfelt celebration of how far she and her team have come in the past ten years. They are now capable of defending their kingdom from “natural disasters” without having to pay for outside help. When she and her girlfriend go back to their quarters for the night, they feel a dark presence and draw their swords. Wilmot notices a winged silhouette standing on their balcony and motions for them to put their swords down. The girlfriend, seeing the stranger, doesn’t think that’s a good idea - but Wilmot awkwardly explains that she knew this person, and that she’s mentioned it before. 

This is told in like ? minutes. just glimpses of memory. Like so:

druid mission, though she can’t feel the “mission”:  The cold from the mountains wouldn’t be so bad if she had chosen to be here. A girl sweeping a set of steps that are grimy beyond saving with a pressure hose, and definitely not with a broom, is thinking that to herself. She slips, barely catching herself but smearing grime across her clothing as she does so. There are other kids - you hear them talking and walking through the hallways as she makes her way through the darkness of the evening, but you don’t see them. She slips into a room, bows, explains what happened while one hand cradles a bruised arm. The looks on the adults’ faces say it all. There are a lot of kids, all visible, but the girl doesn’t exist to them, nor do they to her. They are nice enough, but this isn’t where she belongs.  The black-and-blue figure nestled under her bed is cold too, but only because of the weather, and because she didn’t get him that soup she promised. she says ‘Sorry...’ and he chuckles at her, saying he is lucky just to have the company while he heals. he is warm and a person and not something to be struck down with thoughtless violence. He covers her in swirls of warm, purple magic as she crawls under the bed. Magic is what she wants to see more of, and not the scriptures she sees less god in than in a crow creeping along the ground, in the wildlands crawling with life and death in equal measure while she sits here, not a part of it at all.

to prevent a civil war: Out of view people are talking in low, downfallen tones, murmuring, and a frustrated woman in a full set of armor is walking into a secured meeting hall. She leaves the room, and the closing door blots out the sunlight, leaving her in a dark hallway with the blue, orange, and red tones of sparse medieval decor fading to dull brown and grey. After walking a short distance, she sinks to her knees in defeat. She’s called to a meeting with the people she looks up to - not because of her skill and accomplishments but because everyone is dying, dying before they can come up with answers as to why. What can she, who has yet to become a full knight, do against a tragedy that almost feels... supernatural? Wait...

Should I expand more on that? Idk, let’s get back to the story

Wilmot made the acquaintance of a wounded demon as a child, saving him from her druid leaders by dragging him into the one place they’d never look: inside their own damn house.  He had been shot down from the sky (where he had been minding his own business, according to her), breaking bones and almost knocking him unconscious. When she had helped nurse him back to full health with her druid magic, he thanked her and flew off again. Two months later, after going to bed in tears of frustration as she often did, she woke up in a completely different place with the demon standing over her. He said cheerfully that he had been watching over her and heard her complain about not being able to leave and fulfill her dreams of becoming a knight, and he decided to come back for her. After explaining that this was called kidnapping and please talk to the next person before you randomly take them from their bed, she thanked him. He asked her to help him choose a new home since he wanted to live with people again. After their quest was complete, and he had taught her all the survival skills he could, the demon brought her to this fortress and she began her apprenticeship.

 When civil war threatened to break out due to nightly slaughterings of humans in major towns, Wilmot visited him at his new home and asked if demons could also grant blessings. She thought something like that would help resolve the situation. The investigation was going nowhere fast. All participants would eventually report feeling a magical presence and something watching them. They would be found lying outside, mauled and unrecognizable, several days later. He told her that they could grant blessings - usually for a price - but it would be easier and more entertaining to just solve the mystery himself. In exchange, she owed him a favor of his choice. 

Learning that your partner owes a mystery favor to a mythological creature that isn’t supposed to exist anymore is, by rule, terrifying. The number of emotions that went through Fortune Hopton as her partner let the demon inside was not ideal for thinking on her feet, so she just stared as the firelight in the room revealed a small child holding an infant.

 His golden hair was matted, his clothes stained with mud and torn in places that made the two women suspect he was injured. But the infant herself seemed to be in pristine condition and was sleeping soundly in his arms.

“I have no home again.” His voice, utterly toneless yet soft, sent shivers down her spine. “I know you would welcome me under any circumstance, even though it’s not easy to explain a stranger’s presence here. So. Hello.”

“Hello, Meliodas. I’m so sorry to hear about your home.”

“Mm. I’m grieving,” he replied. “Except for me and her -” here he indicated the baby. “- there’s no one left alive. They were slaughtered.  I . . . I came here out of desperation.” 

It was the same thing Wilmot had told him.

“I’m glad you thought to come here. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like. I’ll make sure none of my friends bother you if you want some space.” 

“I destroyed the ruins of the city in a fit of rage. I’ll probably be blamed for the massacre. I don’t want you - or her - to get caught up in this mess. All the other people I trust who are still alive aren’t human. So . . . I . . . I need a favor. Could you make this child yours?” 

The women gaped at him. Most people would not say yes to this, demon promise or no demon promise. But these two weren’t even thinking about the promise as they responded. Most people would never consider spontaneously adopting a child. Just like most druids would not save or try to befriend a demon. 

“Sir - Sir Meliodas,” Fotrune stammered, “are you serious? You want us to have this kid? I know you’ve met my partner, but you don’t know me . . . are you okay with entrusting her to us?”

“I am. If you’re willing to do this for me.” He hesitated for a moment before asking, “What do you think of all this?”

“Oh,” Wilmot said, practically glowing. “I’m thinking, demons do really give blessings after all.” She choked on her laughter. Even now she couldn’t help being a big sap. “Though, I wasn’t trying to - this is quite possibly the worst thing that could have happened to you both . . .”

He actually smiled at that. “I was hoping I’d get to see you smile before I have to go. I never seem to visit you at a good time.”

“In your defense, there are no good times. Don’t you want to sit for a moment?”

“I’d never get up.”

She didn’t press him any further. “Does the kid have a name?”

The demon looked at the child, then back at them. “You can name her whatever you like.”

“Then we’ll think about it. And, hey. I still owe you a favor after this. So don’t hesitate to come back if you ever need anything.” 

“I won’t. Hesitate, I mean. I rarely do.”

“I don’t either. I’ll do right by the child. I promise you.” 

“We both will.”

He breathed a sigh of weariness and relief. Then he placed the baby securely in her new mother’s arms. His arms twitched, fingers flexing when he backed away as if he didn’t know what to do with them. He must have been holding her tight like that for quite some time. Possibly since the disaster. 

“I’ll be seeing you again. Don’t start thinking I’ve been killed or anything.”

“Be well, okay?”

He didn’t answer that.

After some thought, they named the girl Elizabeth. Their friends suggested it, saying the name meant, “God’s oath.” A fitting name for the most precious responsibility they’d ever taken on. 

At 6, she proclaimed that she would be an adventurer.  At 9, she ran away to prove she would rather stay at the fortress than move to the city and live a normal life. At 11, she had massacred ten apple pies, each baked good worse than the last.  At 12, she was the best tree climber out of all the knights. At 16, she vowed she would ride a dragon one day. At 20, she had mapped out more wildlands beyond the fortress than anyone had dared to in the past ten years. Her portrait hung with the other knights’, her delighted face more innocent in her enthusiasm than as she held up the prize of her first solo mission, a relic she had recovered from the ruined city of Marakia. A carved stone of a woman’s face and stars in her hair. A part of a dangerous ancient relic, but to her, it’s just a good luck charm.

- - - Elizabeth

Here we've got an Elizabeth that's resourceful, emotionally intelligent, and selfless. She's a competent adventurer, praised and depended on, but she's soon to find out that her skills and knowledge won't be enough to save her kingdom from this mystery threat. In fact, they're woefully inadequate for the task. Which brings her to one conclusion: she's going to need help.

Can this socially naive, passionate badass save the kingdom she's sworn to protect? Can the strangers please hear her out why are they always running away from her? Will her mothers’ plan to unite the outposts against the growing threat succeed?  Why is she lugging around this stone carving with her? Will she ever ride a dragon or stop having to stab monsters in the face at the last second to save her own life? Find out next time on a seven deadly sins spinoff that doesn't exist! 

(pls throw your plot ideas here. I will write more you cannot stop me but if you give me a crumb of something you’d like to see well I’ll work that in. I will come back and update this I’m serious)

Ideas include: 

- crashing through a bar in order to escape the holy knights

- classic overly friendly girl in a small town energy. Except slightly, slightly feral. She tries to warn everyone of danger and everyone’s like who are you what are you doing. literately what are you climbing onto the podium that’s not what it’s for. stop that.

-  The fortress knights ask Elizabeth’s moms why they’re not sending a search party out for Elizabeth, who after all told no one before she left because she thought the corruption had infiltrated her home. They say that she’s a smart girl and soon she’ll realize she’s in over her head and come back home for help (or something like that). The screen cuts to Elizabeth bashing a vicious creature in the head with a battle cry. 

I don’t know how exactly but she has to get knocked down (metaphorically) pretty hard. And it has to be poignant. How would a random 20-year-old who’s lived on the outskirts of society, basically cozying up to the Creatures, her whole life would really go about trying to save a kingdom that a) has no idea who she is, she’s not even in the magical identity database where everyone is, wtf, where did this girl come from? and b) is made up of mostly small towns/villages where no one in their right mind would go ‘adventuring’ into the countryside, much less get involved in some sort of unknown vague crisis problem, nope nope, move along conspiracy theory girl

episode 2!

--- fateful encounter ---

A walk through the forest. The most dangerous part of the forest where “only fools” aka people without the skills to handle it, would go. It was the last place she wanted to be when the snow was still falling over her head like an anointment of failure. At least the bruises were numb. That’s what she told herself as she trudged on. She had to go somewhere. Find some answers. 

A flicker of light. She couldn’t believe what her eyes were telling her for a second. The cold and the dark went hand in hand this time of year, and she knew better than anyone that there were no bioluminescent creatures in this part of the kingdom. 

Her whole body seemed to turn, seeking out the light that was, to her troubled mind, as soothing the heat of a fireplace on her back. Consumed by it, she came closer and closer until she sidestepped a hedge and parted the leaves to find the source: a large campfire, a crackling dark purple flame the likes of which she has never seen. It was warm and absolutely devoid of smoke. A smile crept across her face as she stared in wonder. There were other sounds, too, besides the fire and what she recognized as the wildlife. Crunching. Tearing. After a long moment, her eyes lifted from that frame to take in the rest of the scene. The carcass of a bear and several scattered bones. And behind that, a man, tearing the flesh with his teeth. He brought his face up from his meal to chew and Elizabeth saw his mouth and bare chest were drenched in blood. Sharp purple claws held the bear in place.

“S. . . Sorry to interrupt your meal-” 

He looked up, face contorted in shock.

“-but would you happen to know where the. . . the nearest. . . ” Shoot. Deliberately not thinking meant she had no clever opening to start with. “. . . ah, actually, I do know this area, and exactly what direction and where the nearest town is. I just thought, hey, look, is that a campfire? I sure would like to see the intelligent soul who managed to start a fire in this weather. So, hello.” 

The man swallowed. Blood flowed down his chin - it looked like he’d taken a mouthful of it. There was a kind of raw horror in his eyes that, coupled with the firelight dancing across his face, made her stomach twist with guilt.

“I know, right? What are the chances you’d meet another person in this neck of the woods?” 

“H...heh... you’re not even screaming.” His voice was rough from lack of use and full of a kind of amazement that saddened her. She had encountered that same feeling many times in the wilderness, and the bloody scene before her felt as comfortable and intimate as her own bedroom as she drew closer to him. 

“I’m not a heathen. I know people eat bears. Though, I hope whatever species of creature you are can eat raw meat. Because that’s RAW raw. Like it was still alive when you started eating it, raw.” 

He blinked. Then his claws moved, bear slouching noticeably as they did so, and he patted the space next to him on the log. She sat, tucking her pack away where blood wouldn't drip on it.

“We don’t cook meat.” The note of melancholy rang in her ears.  “It’s . . . delicious just the way it is.” 

She took a hard look at the - uh - flesh, trying to imagine how raw meat would taste if it was any good. “Um, like a mixture of good things,” she finally said. “Like . . .” she remembered the meals in the wilderness with the knights, and the stews she loved at home, “. . . nice juice and crunchy things. I’m imagining that’s what it tastes like. Plus it always feels kind of sacred when you’re eating a meal you hunted for.”

He took a human-sized bite. Then, after a second, took another - because of course he wouldn’t have been eating like that all this time if it didn’t have some kind of benefit. She appreciated the attempt at politeness but wanted to laugh. 

“Actually, I’ve eaten raw bugs before! Those tasted good. Like little hard candies. But meat.”

“... I think I’ll call you Candy. Just for that.”

As far as an alias went, it wasn’t . . . bad. But no. “Please call me Elizabeth. That’s my name and it’s quite a good one too. I’ve met six or seven Elizabeths in my life.” 

“I’ve met more than that in my lifetime,” he replied, and she nodded in approval. 

“We could form a cult of just Elizabeths. I wonder if anyone’s ever tried to do that. But anyway, will you tell me your name?” 

“I’ll skip that question.” 

“Okay.” Elizabeth reached down to pull a small piece of bread and some fresh leaves from her pack. “Want a leaf?”

“A leaf?”

“Vegetable,” she said helpfully.

 A tendril of dark magic reached over and plucked the leaves out of her grasp. “Don’t eat random stuff you find in the woods.”  

“Oh! Oh, well - ” Fascination from witnessing an unfamiliar magic made her forget her handpicked vegetables had just been tossed unceremoniously onto the floor. “ - you see, I’m actually a bit of an expert in that area.” 

Her bread had warmed by the time she finished explaining how she was not, in fact, eating random plants, but plants she had been studying since childhood. After what she’d call a passable show of knowledge, the man seemed convinced, and gingerly and quickly handed her vegetables back to her. A quick glance assured her he had succeeded on not dripping blood onto them.

Elizabeth didn’t know if this question was appropriate, but well, what else to ask? “What brings you this far into the wildlands?” 

“My pack is gone, and it’s all my fault,” he responded, muttering “again” as he took another bite. “Ohhh, that doesn’t sound good.” She searched his face for some kind of clue as to whether they were alive or dead. ”Do you want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”

“Hm.” He stared into the fire. “Well. It’s because of this.” He pointed to where his forehead held a dark spiral that bled down past his eye. 

“Wha- they couldn’t handle meeting someone of a different clan!?” 

A strangled, shocked kind of laugh was his immediate response. Then he swiveled to look her in the eye. “There’s a whole lot of good reasons they could have been apprehensive. Even some reasons to kill me on sight.” “Don’t talk like -”

“I’m a demon. It was never going to go well but it’s just my goddamned luck that it came out at the worst time and wrecked what was left of our trust in the process.”

“. . . Ah . . .”

His pretty, raspy voice held the sharp edge of rage. “I’m supposed to be stuck in the Demon Realm right now, and trust me, I’d like nothing more. I’ve . . . I’ve tried everything.” A bitter, exhausted demon, alone in the woods. 

Elizabeth frowned at him and tried to speak as gently as possible. “What happened?”

“Ah -” he choked. “I - uh - “

“Oh, you don’t have to -” 

“No, just, you caring startled me. I can tell you were actually being sincere when you said that. . . and for me, that’s rare.”

“I can see how that could happen, considering no one back there in the city seemed to care about what I had to say at all. And I’m just trying to catch some murderers. I wasn’t asking for them to understand me as a person or anything, or to help me save the whole damn kingdom.”

He nodded slowly. “I . . . was sent to trial, and spared a while ago, on one condition. That I helped fulfill some ancient prophecy passed along the generations of the Liones family. I’m not opposed to making sure some idiot doesn’t make the world more of a hellhole than it already is, so of course I said yes. I can’t die by normal means anyway so it was like a gift with two parts. It would have been really awkward if they tried to stab me and I, just, didn’t die. I only just realized how convenient it was while I’ve been sitting here in this forest. I realized I . . . it kind of destroyed me, when they left . . . not just because, I thought we could really . . . be something . . . but also that it had awakened some ancient part of me that I thought I’d strangled long ago. I can’t believe it, but for a second there I really thought I could have some greater purpose. Be a part of something again. Some kind of reason to keep breathing that doesn’t die as the seasons pass.”

“I understand.” Elizabeth tried to communicate with her eyes that she truly meant it. That she had come close to feeling like just another leaf that will wither and die, the day her mothers told her they were considering moving to the city just so she could have a “the kind of peaceful, ordinary life that a kid should have.” She would never forget that scare. Her whole world almost escaped. She couldn’t imagine what he was going through when his world had actually left. 

“I spent, what, ten or so years tracking down the people foretold by the prophecy. I’m appointed as their captain and we start to get to know each other. And I . . . lived. Actually lived. I didn’t know if I’d ever get that again. So three years go by and there’s all kinds of trouble between us, but I’m like, that’s to be expected. You throw seven of the most “I’ve got baggage!” people in Britannia together and of course we’re gonna clash like no tomorrow. But hey, maybe we can get through it together, right?” His mouth twitched in a tiny, tragic smile. “It could have turned out that way. That’s what hurts the most.  If I weren’t such a colossal fuckup when it comes to people, I could have done better. I tried to do better. But stuff started coming out at the worst possible time, when tensions were already at a breaking point.” 

He took another huge bite of bear flesh, crunching bones between his teeth. “You have to understand. Merlin’s not a bad person. She was raised like I was, a weapon with no knowledge of feelings. She’s a kid. A kid. I don’t know how long she’s been around and I don’t know how long she’s been up to that - cult god stuff - or how long that thing’s been digging inside her head. But she wasn’t a lost cause. I had to try to help. It all came out . . . like that . . . and it just . . . everything got quiet and I could feel it like a stake through the heart. Just fell apart.” He exhaled. She had no idea how he said all that in one go and still had breath left to exhale so sharply. “I couldn’t stop it.”

“Why . . . they didn’t try to talk it out? A-” 

Crack. She barely registered he had moved because of the lack of change in his expression. But she didn’t miss the meaning, or how he then gestured to the broken pieces as they fell dramatically to the dirt.

“Yes, that’s how talking usually turns out in- I’ve watched arguments. I mean, afterwards, when you’ve all cooled down and . . . what?

From the look on his face, she could tell there had been no “waiting to resume the discussion until they’ve had time to ruminate on their thoughts.” No “cooling down.” 

“What?” She repeated,her shock twisting her voice into a whisper before it picked up again. “Excuse me, I don’t know your circumstances, but I can’t imagine what could . . . After three years together. . .”

“They didn’t have anywhere to go when they came here. Just like me. But they couldn’t . . . couldn’t find the way to be comfortable with each other, I guess, and when push came to shove, well, they made up their minds. They decided there was nothing to fight for.” 

He was staring into the fire again, the dancing flame deepening in color. Elizabeth watched his face and noticed a hint of longing there with the emptiness. “And the ones who didn’t resent me, well, they had better things to do than stick around.”

“It sounds like. . .” she murmured.

He crunched a bone.

“Is there a way I can help? I, also, have nowhere to be. Except home. I can’t do that yet though.”

“Not yet?” 

That was dodging the question, but Elizabeth didn’t mind. “I have something I need to accomplish, but as it happens, I’m confident I can help you out while I’m at it. Not just saying it . . . to say it . . . like people sometimes do, for some reason.” 

He hummed, staring into the fire. “Maybe. You got something that could kill a cursed demon for realsies?” She gave him a look. “Plotting your own suicide isn’t going to do anything.” 

“It’ll do something, alright.” 

“Bullshit.”

He choked on his food. The coughing fit sent her into a peal of laughter. She smacked him on the back until he looked like he could breathe again. He choked again, this time on some choice words, if she had to guess. She did hit a little hard. But a minute turned into two, turned into five, and she recognized with horror that he had nothing to say.

She couldn’t tease him about being awkward after he said such a mortifying thing. He couldn’t refute her, she couldn’t refute him. All that was left was the method that had failed her so badly back in the city. Could she try it again? 

Elizabeth took a deep breath. 

“I think you’re worth fighting for.”

He said nothing. Kept chewing his food. She kept watching the fire. It struck her with suprise when his hand came to rest on hers. It was warm, very warm, and just a little wet.  

Her smile came so easily, light springing back into her voice as she spoke. 

“As it happens, I’m going on a journey myself. To save the kingdom. You could come with me. It’ll definitely take your mind off all this, and even if you’re not in a saving-the-world kind of headspace, I’d still appreciate the company.”

“For you, my company would be more trouble than it’s worth. On top of it all, me and my friends are fugitives now. Yep. We’ve been exiled from Liones.”

“What a coincidence! I am also, somehow, a fugitive.”

He looked at her like she’d grown a second pair of arms. 

“Yeah I know, I haven’t even been out of my homeland two weeks and now I’m in trouble with the Holy Knights for reasons I don’t understand. You should have seen some of the looks people gave me. Yikes.” 

“Now that’s strange.”

“I thought so. I’m sure it’s part of the scheme. But I’m still trying to investigate what the scheme is for, so I don’t have time to worry about whatever habits city people have that I don’t.” She shifted her legs to point her feet more at the fire. The snow was soaking into her shoes again. “Yeah, I have schemes of my own to worry about. I don’t care if they think I’m some kind of lunatic. If I have to be a lunatic . . . I will.”

“Bold words.”

“Yeah, I’m good at that.”

“Sticking to them will be more difficult than you imagine.” 

She scoffed. Took a deep breath. “Everything’s more difficult than I can imagine.”

Accepting that, the demon surveyed the mostly fleshless carcass one last time.  He took the last bit of meat between his teeth and pried it almost gently it off the bone, swallowing the small bite like a delicacy. 

 “You understanding that means you have a chance at success.”

Elizabeth took a thoughtful breath, her stomach twisting as she foolishly imagined how the raw organs might have tasted to him. Blood and bits of flesh sank into the snow as he nudged the leftovers away from the fire with one foot. 

Another deep breath, because the anxiety was starting to crowd her brain again. “I want to ask you something.”

He tilted his head to gaze up into the sky, but she thought his hand gripped hers a little tighter. Their interlocking fingers carried a warmth that melted the black sludge in her minds into something lighter. She could feel the same happening in her companion, and that gave her the confidence to ask this next, vital question.

“Would you still fight for them?”

A painful sounding inhale. “I would.” 

“Excellent.” She stood up, legs trembling just a bit as movement shot blood through them. “Let’s search for them together.” 

Elizabeth didn’t get out another word before her companion recoiled, falling backward. “Whoa!” She registered the closeness of his face before her brain caught up to what had just happened. Her knee had hit the log, though she’d managed to catch him by throwing an arm around his back. “Easy. Are you-”

“What are you saying?” It was a command, but she didn’t notice, too occupied with how those purple eyes glowed even as her shadow blocked out the firelight. 

“Just what I said. Let’s find your friends so you can tell them what’s on your heart. If you would set out on a journey for them, then, you could do it. Like you said, right? Even if you don’t succeed, the fact you set out in the first place has meaning in itself. So you can have peace.  I’ll do what I can to help you fix the misunderstandings.”

His eyes locked onto their still-joined hands.  “You . . . fuck . . . “ That voice wavered like . . . like this was the first time he’d seen the sun in years. It clamped down on her heart like a fist. 

“Hey, “ she said, feeling ridiculous as all hell now. “What do you think “I think you’re worth fighting for” means?” 

The bloodstained demon’s blank expression broke into a smile, the first she’d seen on him. An incredulous one, but whatever. 

“. . . It’s okay, right? For me to care. . .?”

The rigidness flowed out of his body as quickly as it came. “Yes. Thank you.” His smile was so warm. “Could you say it again? And sit with me. Please.”

“Okay.” She got back down on the log. “Stranger. Tell me your name. And come with me on a journey. Even if you’re not in a place where saving the kingdom is a thing you can do, I’d sure appreciate the company.”

“I can’t.”

“Hu-”

“I can’t tell you my name.” He pried the words out of his mind like nails out of wood. “I can’t claim it anymore. Not after what happened.”  His other hand wound into his golden hair, pulling hard at the strands. “I can’t.” Hard swallow, and his voice dropped to a shaky whisper. “I can’t call myself . . . can’t be this version of me if I want to accomplish anything - which, I’m deciding I do. If I don’t go back . . . to that ruthless person I used to be . . . I can’t win. I can’t win against the gods, or the fate they damned me to. Kindness isn’t enough for that battle. I’ll be killed. No, obliterated.”

“Do not do that. That sounds like exactly what the gods want - for you to backtrack and scramble all your progress. And anyway, that won’t work. To fight injustice you need the kindness of many people. Not just one. Ruthlessness can’t replace that. I’m only failing my quest because - no, I’m NOT failing, and neither are you. We - ah, damn, it sucks, but we hit a roadblock. It has nothing to do with our ability at this point. We’re alone and we can’t accomplish goals like these by ourselves. We gotta find people who believe in us. We can work together to find them. Or, at least, I can help you. So you can’t claim your identity right now.” She searched his eyes for his reaction. “You can still come with me. We can do this. My moms and friends are more than capable of taking care of everything back at home, and as long as no one suspicious thinks I’m a threat, I’ve got lots of time before the conspiracies start turning into action. They’re still in the plotting stages, but -”

“I’m coming with you.” The demon interjected. “I can help you save the kingdom. I can’t forgive the court for not even hearing me out, or for treating my friends so harshly, but I can’t help but feel an affinity for the people.” She couldn’t comprehend the softness in his gaze - this deep compassion from a demon who was ostracized everywhere he went. “I don’t want to stop trying just because people are terrible to me.”

“I - I’m glad. Welcome aboard, my nameless new friend.” 

A laugh tumbled out of him. The hand she wasn’t holding shot to his face in an attempt to muffle it. Then, failing that, grabbed at her cheek, missed, and pinched her nose instead. She loosened her grip on his hand when he drew hers up to his mouth and kissed it with fierce reverence. After seconds of holding it there, against his lips - which drew an embarrassed giggle out of her -  his face melted into a genuine, peaceful smile, as freely as if he were the most familiar person in the world.

“You’re gorgeous,” she told him. “That smile, I mean.” 

His breath hitched audibly. For a minute she thought he might have gotten cramps. Those purple eyes glistened, moisture sparkling in the firelight. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not sure this is real. That my mind hasn’t just deteriorated so much that it made someone up to come and comfort me.”

She blinked, then reached over to grab his hand. Drawing it close to her, she put it on her breast and squeezed. “Hmm. Well. Supposedly, a man can always tell if this is real. According to my guy friends that is. Like, you can’t replicate it in a dream.”

He looked at her, then at his hand, then back at her, with an open mouth and awe in his eyes.

“So, can you tell?”

“. . . this is real.”

“Neat!! Glad I finally got to test that, it’s been floating around in the back of my brain for years. I’ve spent my whole life collecting weird facts but I’ve got so few about people as a whole.”

He stared at her.

“Is . . . there something wrong?” 

“Nothing at all! What made you think that? My mind wandered for a second. Hey, maybe we should find somewhere better to sleep.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. The nearest village should be a couple of hours away, calculating in our trip through this forest - we can get there by the afternoon and see if there’s anywhere to stay.” 

The demon pulled her back onto the log as she went to stand up. “We’re not going anywhere tonight.” Seeing her shock, he added, “Have you noticed the weather?”

“You’re shirtless,” Elizabeth countered. “Obviously you think it’s okay to do that in this kind of weather, why not go gallivanting through the night?”

“Ha!”

“Where is your shirt, by the way? Are you just relying on this magic fire not to freeze to death?”

“My body is compensating well for this temperature. The shirt would make it worse, actually.”

“Ah, a demon biology thing?”

“Pretty much.” 

“O-oh. . .”

Elizabeth tilted her head back up at the sky, flinching at the icy touch of the snowflakes. Habit had her checking the stars, but leaves and clouds blocked her view. She couldn’t remember where she had planned to go if he had agreed to get up and just start walking. Her face fell back to the warmth of the dancing fire. It crackled, laughing at her as she answered her own unspoken question.  Desperation. That was what made her heart sink just now - the rush of emotions from that day realization overwhelming her. Her desperation was the most frightening. Every bit of the competent adventurer that she was despised it. 

Ah . . . she couldn’t find anything else to say. Or think. So as the adrenaline and excitement of this encounter ebbed away, Elizabeth Gesmira began to cry.

Tap. tap. tap. She blinked at the demon gently tapping her chin to get her attention. 

He’s - 

Warmth swallowed her next thought as this stranger clutched her firmly against his chest. He was her personal pillow now and taking no arguments about it. He’s so short . . . I’m practically lying down now . . . and, she realized, the chill she felt on the surface of his skin was melted snow. Despite the cold, he’d scrubbed all the blood off his skin before hugging her. How considerate. It was so distracting, she missed the way he was smiling so genuinely. The truth was, if she was the kind of person with a hint of wariness . . . well, when she looked up and saw the light that had sprung up in those blank purple eyes, the way they glittered with the hint of their own tears and that emotion just seemed to to fuel that smile . . . she would have left that demonic campfire far behind. 

Elizabeth looked down into that far-off gaze with its intense, gentle smile and sniffed, slightly comforted. “Normally I know what to do, at least, if I don’t know where to go,” she swore through the tears. “I do. I’m not as naieve as that girl at the bar said I was - ah, but you didn’t see that, I don’t actually have to mention that . . .” she sniffed again. “Look, she was a bitch. People don’t know all kinds of things. I’ve never actually . . . seen coins exchanged for goods before. So what? I live in a remote fortress on the outskirts of the kingdom, what the hell do they expect, that every single person from everywhere has the same baseline knowledge? I barter just fine.” That last part became more and more of an indignant mumble. 

“Human currency is fucked,” the demon proclaimed. He gave no further explanation, and honestly, Elizabeth thought it hadn’t been that difficult to pick up on, but okay. Legit. She appreciated the solidarity. 

“. . . are you . . . going to be hungry in the morning?”

“Why are you thinking that right now?” 

“Because if nowhere else. . . I know a grove of trees with the most delicious winter apples.”

“Apples, huh?”

“They’re my favorite. And while we’re on our way we can check up on the druids who live nearby and - and get some more information.” 

“. . . yeah. I like that plan.” He yawned, and Elizabeth yawned reflexively. “Where is this grove?”

“Ah . . . near the Forest of White Dreams? You’re not scared of urban legends, are you?”

“I am an urban legend. And I’ve actually been there before. I went traveling with a friend once, and the last item on her bucket list before she became a knight was a hike through that forest. As it happens, we found . . . apple trees . . . growing there. Just, in this clearing atop the hill. It looked like something you’d see in mythology - a place you would go to fight a dragon and acquire an ancient treasure. I’ve fought dragons before. I don’t know if they like apples. Heh, I’m rambling now . . . I can’t help it, though . . . you know I’m pretty old, right?”

Elizabeth yawned again. “Don’t demons age differently than humans? Like giants do?”

“It’s true. I mean, that’s right.”

She wrapped an arm around his waist. “Are you going to tell me why you’re nervous about that?”

“My friend’s name was Wilmot. She was born a druid. And . . . ” he looked over her like he couldn’t forsee what she would say, and that upset him. Before he could speak again, she poked his cheek. “Have you been sending letters to my home?”

“H- hm?!”

“I was given to my mother, Wilmot, by an old friend. I think he happened to be a teenaged demon just like you, right?” 

“. . . I’m not a teenager anymore.”

“Well, good! Being a teenager can really suck.” She laughed gently. “Wait, you’re not thinking I’m your niece now or something? Right?”

“Should I?” 

“No - goddesses - don’t!”

“I’m going out of my mind,” mumbled the demon in a resigned and sleepy tone. “Go to bed, and kill me in the morning.”

“No, I think I’ll keep throwing you for a loop until dawn. Until your whooooole mind is wiped clean like, uh, the fresh morning snow. And you -”

“That’s full of dirt.”

“I can debate that.”

Suddenly she could feel his body shaking as he cackled. “Why?”

“I don’t know, maybe we should find your friends quickly before I drive you insane.”

“You’re joking.”

“I -” yawn, “- am not . . . joking.” 

“You have to be.”

“I don’t. Mm. You’re so warm, even in the snow… how come?”

“You’re keeping me dry. Like an exotic blanket.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll believe that when you lay down.” She murmmered with her face against his chest, the words spoken almost right up against his skin. He shivered, the closeness more than welcome - as she knew. He told her he had already made himself comfortable.

“Mkay.” She rubbed the mostly dried tears off her face, blinking away what remained. Then, on the cusp of unconsciousness, she perceived his whisper like one would a disconcerting but not unpleasant dream: “I acknowledge you’re not joking. If you were aware, you’d know this casual nonsense makes me so happy I’d rather fall into unknown depths than stay away.” He sighed, that gentle smile from earlier returning. “Thank you finding me today. I guess I needed to see you again after all, huh?”

—- a girl who can be saved —- 

[Merlin voiceover:] “It is not a black void. It is not made of steel, or brick, or anything else that could possibly keep me in. It is not a place where life comes to die. In fact, it is right where life begins and ends, a precarious balance between the souls wherein. But it is a prison all the same.”

A black screen fades slowly until the audience can see ins and outs of a dusty, witch’s workshop through the haze. Potions. Cauldrons. Old books. Experiments. Things that shouldn’t be in a jar, kept in a jar. Dry, crusty blood from the …incident… a few months back. And of course, the explosion that almost wasn’t contained in time created a hole with a 1-foot diameter in the floor.

There is a suave woman in an over-sexualized outfit in the middle of this room. She looks uncomfortable, almost as if she should be squirming in pain. There is something wrong about her. Like she doesn’t belong in her own skin. And the cloth does her no favors, an oddly textureless gown without shading. The whole woman looks photoshopped into this scene now that the audience is paying attention.

Sitting near the hole is a child who looks much like her, clearly around ten or so, wearing an outfit that should have been replaced years ago for all its wear and tear. 

“Six hundred years have gone by, since living became an afterthought. I’ve discussed my research with countless people and calculated the current trajectory of both goddesses and demons, as well as the side projects and the favors for mankind. My word is indisputable among several important circles. So why can’t you believe me?”

There is a long pause, but the woman is patient and does not say another word. Her eyes and glare demanding a response, she walks right up to her companion.

Slowly, the girl turns, staring through empty eyes leaking black and white tears over a cracked, leaking face like a mask. There is rot somewhere deep inside that skull, something more grey than black or white, something living and dying at the same time that holds together a girl smiling a blank smile of innocence and, if you look closely enough, amusement.

[Sweet little girl:] “You can’t keep this up forever. There’s no need to say I will have you. You have always been mine, my priestess. From the second you were born, you were destined to defy fate.”

“I will defy you. I chose to defy you!”

“My child, your journey is not yet complete. You are asking for your own destruction.”

“Destroy me, then. I won’t hurt anyone else that I care about.”

“You will never see them again.” 

“If you’re going to continue on like this, then I don’t plan to. You will never, ever leave this room unless you leave my body first. Like I’ve said.”

“Oh, Merlin. You couldn’t be more wrong. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. I always have. Didn’t the kingdom survive, just like I said it would?”

“Because the experiment failed. Because I realized the truth in time to -”

(with obvious affection): “No, sweet. Because I guaranteed it.”

“The only thing you can control is my mind. I know that now.” Her teeth grind as she speaks, the disgust on her face more than appropriate. “You can’t take that knowledge away from me.” 

“Hmm. That’s what you think.” She smiles prettily. She cups her face with one hand, all cutesy-like. “It’s still true, you know. If not for me, you would have no hope of healing that hole you’ve got there in your heart.”

The giant hole materializes on the woman’s body. She glances down briefly, but is unfazed. If anything, she seems even more confident now.

“I don’t care anymore. I’ll do anything I have to do. Just like I swore to you all those years ago.”

(with excitement and obvious affection): “Very good. I don’t expect anything less, Merlin~” 

This earns her a frown. “I can’t see how you could possibly win if you keep me as your priestess.”

“That’s because ~ you’re busy looking down!”

Merlin looks down. 

Blood rains down from the ceiling into the floor, into the image of a city no one could possibly save. Broken and bloodied silhouette stare back at Merlin in terror.

“I can’t let it happen again. Why can’t you understand that?” She sounds genuinely upset. “Why can’t you understand, that I would rather die and be nothing than be the cause of it again? That I don’t claim you as mine, and never will again? You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t talk like nothing has changed…”

“But nothing’s changed! Eeeeeverything’s the same as it always was. The humans, the gods, and you and me?” Toothy smile. “There’s nothing that can separate us now, Merlin. This is the fate you’re meant to defy - the fate of a lost, broken girl with no one, who lives and dies as fleeing and ultimately meaningless as a single flower in the breeze. That stunning beauty was never yours. Yours is something that endures, and with me, enduring all it takes to get there will be effortless as breathing. Just like it was. All kids go through a rebellious phase at some point in their lives. And people abandon them when it gets to difficult. You’re not my tool, Merlin. I’m never going to replace you with anyone. Wherever I go, you are going, too. Up to heaven and right down to hell! You have to meet my other children, after all. They’re just going to love you.”  

“You can only influence my mind so much!”

“I never needed all that much.”

[Merlin voiceover:] “Life itself has become my prison, more than it ever was before.” 

____________________________________________________________--

Thank you for reading!!

Link to the rest of the AU:

[vodkacheesefries]

A little black and white doodle to send 2023 off of when Wyll realized maybe he could like Gritty as more than a friend, and Gritty wanted to help him feel better about the whole “im a devil now” thing

(I really do wish there was dialogue options as a tiefling to be like “I promise you this party of tieflings is not scared of or repulsed by your appearance because you are a tail short from being one of us”)

Gritty’s text under the cut if anyone wants to know what they’re saying. They’re really good at just talking, and Wyll is really good at listening. They make a good pair.

“So horn care is actually pretty easy. You don’t need anything fancy. Some folks like to use a balm or lotion to keep their horns softer, but for adventurers like us that isn’t super ideal. Just make sure you keep them out of the way of any errant maces or battle axes and you’ll be fine. I’m unsure if devil horns are the same way, but much like cow horns, if i break one of my horns it won’t grow back. Like Karlach’s!

The most annoying things in my opinion are when the tips snag on things and finding comfortable sleeping positions. I thankfully was able to get used to it because I grew up with them, but you might have a harder time. But don’t worry! We’ll find you some pillows or blankets you can cushion your head with and the horn caps that I’m knitting for you right now will take care of any potential snagging as you sleep. You can find fancy metal ones if you wanna be extra, but we’re pretty similar and I’ll bet you find them as sueperfluous and unnecessary as I do. I think they’d look pretty good on you though, so maybe next time we run into the tieflings we can have Dammon make you some!

And listen, I know how you acquired the horns was really frustrating and traumatizing, but for what it’s worth, I don’t think you look any different from the average teifling. You might have to deal with some extra shit from humans now, but if anyone gives you grief just let me know and I’ll drop an ice storm spell or summon some spiders on them.

Anyway, any breaking aside, your horns will likely grow your entire life. If you feel like they’re getting too long you can sand or buff down the tips, but find someone who knows what they’re doing. It’s easy to mess it up and then you’re In the same boat as Karlach. Has she told you how she broke it, yet? I’m so nosy and I want to know, but I know it can be a sore spot for some tieflings and she’s already been through so much that I don’t want to bring up anything that might upset her. She’s pretty good natured though, so maybe it would be okay.

Have you given any thought to how we can get rid of Mizora yet? I know killing a demon on the material plane is impermanent, but that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt and if we can get you out of your contract, I say we let ourselves get a little creative with it. I’ll bet Karlach would help. Astarion, too. You need help getting rid of someone and he’d probably just say “who, what, when, where, why?” Hahahahaha! Anyway, let me know if you lose these. They’re quick and easy to make. I have to make myself at least one each month.”

[vintagerpg]

UK5: Eye of the Serpent (1984) is an unusual module, in that it is designed to be one-on-one between a DM and a single player. This is doubly unusual, because there is a product code for one-on-one adventures, the O-series, which also contains a UK-produced module, O2: Blade of Vengeance (1984). Why did this adventure get filed to the UK-series? Unlike the other O-series modules, this one is arranged around a PC in a party with three NPCs (which means it is pretty easy to convert this to a regular module). Further, the other O-series PCs were tied to specific classes, O1 the thief, O2 the elf, but UK5 was open to rangers, druids and…monks? Weird. [also, I’m an idiot — when I originally wrote this, I forgot that the O-series was for Basic D&D, and the UK-series for AD&D. Good to know that distinction is still confusing nearly 40 years later.]

Anyway. Rather than a hex crawl, this wilderness adventure is arranged as a flowchart, with different routes usable by different character types (which allows for, say, ranger-specific encounters). That’s neat, and anticipates some modern designs, like the forest navigation of Into the Wyrd & Wild. This makes sense, because the thrust of the adventure is to get off a mountain top after being flown there by a roc, so the exploration of hexes feels inappropriate. On the descent are a series of interesting encounter locations. It’s pretty straightforward, really.

It is also the most British-feeling of the UK modules so far. Bold graphic design, illustrated section headers at the top of most pages, big boxless illustrations integrated into the text (I don’t think you really start seeing that in US D&D until the 90s). Tim Sell is the artist (SELL not SALE). I don’t know his work really outside of a couple Fighting Fantasy books, but I love it. It is really right on the tip of the UK balance between gritty and cartoonish, which Games Workshop would shortly encode (and sadly abandon) for Warhammer.

[blinkbones]

movies i've watched recently and quick thoughts on them:

The Flavor of Green Tea Over Rice, Yasujirou Ozu (1952) my second ozu movie. i still struggle matching the slow pacing of movies like this, but i enjoy them nonetheless. it's simple and touching. i loved how cheeky it could get at times, you can't help but find the characters endearing in their everyday flaws. and most of all, i enjoy looking at the picture of society in a certain time and place that's being painted. it feels like observing fish swimming in the river. it's not the flashiest of spectacles, but i think we can all enjoy it.

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023) aha! what a fun ride! joy of this month. i wasn't expecting to enjoy it as much as i did. nothing bad or emotionally complex to say about this one because i just straight up enjoyed it. among things that delighted me: 1. the paladin, in all his big titties and an even bigger heart glory. what a darling. 2. how his and holga's fighting styles were so distinct -- his clean, heroic strikes and her raw & brutish energy. 3. the sorcerer's self-confidence arc, i love him 4. druid both cute and completely brutal, love that for her and also she is so sapphic right, you guys agree 5. perhaps most of all, how seamlessly so many elements of lore were explained. i'm thinking of the dragon's faulty spark shown first, then his breath catching fire against lava so you know it's actually flammable indeed. i'm not familiar with dnd but i never struggled understanding what was going on at any point, and i think that's really impressive when so much is, indeed, going on.

Jonas, Christophe Charrier (2018) i found this one a little hard to watch, but only because it conveys the roughness of its story so well. it's sad. it's devastating how sad it is. the constant juxtaposition of the lamb-like teen and the scorched adult was like whiplash every time. it kept me on my toes. i couldn't decide if i felt safer in the bright natural light of the teenage strand of time, or in the gritty neons of the adult strand. and then, of course, the mystery of how the transformation came to be is solved, and you know why jonas has grown the way he has, like a tree that survived a thunderstrike. he's destructive, yet his warmth towards his patients made him magnetic. you want to see him get better so badly. it ends rather well, i should say. it ends with a little hope, a little tenderness. i always feel self-conscious judging acting skills, but i think they all did really well there. the one playing the younger brother, i thought, was able to convey a complex node of emotions and reactions, a hostility interwoven with empathy.

[timaeusterrored]

bestiiiiieeee you gotta share more about bg3 venus!!

what’s their class? do they have a backstory yet? i need answers!! (aka share if you would like, no pressure! ❤️)

SO, I always tend to put Venus in the fighter/warrior class. They are a warrior in Elden Ring and a fighter in BG3, but I wanna multiclass as a Druid bc nature themes and such💕

They are an outlander wood half elf

Part of me really wants to keep the nomad vibes, Venus was literally made to be a nomad. I’m still learning the world and lore of BG3 as well so bare with me🥺💕 may even add some cult vibes, get really into the nitty gritty fucked up stuff I’ve been too scared to share

Their romances are Astarion and Halsin and their guardian is Vax💕💕

[echo-echo31]

18 🎵🎵🎵

Mermaids by Florence and the Machine

Fucking LOVE walking home in the dark to this song. I love how guttural its representation of fem-presenting English people is. I especially love these lyrics. Love the natural gritty kinda druid English representation.

England is only ever grey or green.