#heartsblood

[omniluci-estumbra]

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better, by the way,” she said, feigning indifference. She wasn’t good at it. She spoke with her hands, and they were too honest; they were already trying to wring themselves for the mistruth. “I can take it. I’m tough.”

“Hermione Granger.” He wondered if it sounded too fond. It was worrisomely close.

She stopped.

“If they cut you open, and withdrew a fragment of a particle of marrow — if they drew a single drop of your heartsblood, and laid it together with one cell of your gray matter — if all that remained of you was a constellation of particles, in other words, you profoundly intransigent idiot — the distilled essence of you, your vanishing remainder, would still hold more goodness in it than this school has under its roof without you.”

She rested her head against the mantle and looked at him frankly for a moment, like she’d never seen him before. He discovered that it was pleasant to say the things that he believed. What a terrible shock.

“So for God’s sake, pull yourself together,” he said.

She laughed with less humor than surprise. Her eyes were shining.

“Sometimes I used to think I imagined you,” she said.

He’d imagined she might come back at him with some sort of equivalently nice or affectionate thing, so this was moderately disappointing. He was brave about it, however.

“That must have been depressing.”

ff: Lionheart by @greenerteacups

———

Obsessed with the slowly growing dynamic between these two in this fic - reluctant Gryffindor Draco has my whole heart

[laricnoli]

Thinking about the Jonmartin and Loki/Sigyn parallels here:

Both pairs deal with sending away/keeping out eldritch higher powers, trying to keep their world as safe as possible, even if it's only temporary by nature. In TMA, this means releasing the Dread Powers to the multiverse, keeping them lurking in the shadows where eventually the whole apocalypse situation might happen again. For TBI we learn the Bifrost is a manifestation of the Outer God Yog Sogoth, releasing these Gods into their world. By keeping the train from arriving, they can delay the arrival of the Gods.

MAG 200 Jon instructs Martin to send the Dread powers away via stabbing him through the heart. Ragnarok V: End of the line, Loki tells Sigyn about the delaying of the Gods, then subsequently is pierced through the heart to keep the train going

"With tears flowing freely, Loki explains what they have to do. They cannot prevent what they have touched following them into our world, but they can delay it. Keep the train on the track as long as possible. Together"

"Okay. Do it, the knife's just right there. Cut the tether. Send them away. Maybe we both die. Probably. But maybe not. Maybe, maybe everything works out, and we end up somewhere else. // Together? // One way or another. Together."

" Sigyn pushes a single line into her wife's heart and holds it tight. All she lets through is a drip drip drip, flowing through the glyphs and gears. When Loki's heartsblood is gone, the train will arrive, but until then, they are together. Through the pain, Loki kisses Sigyn.​"

"Are you sure about this? // No. // But I love you. // I love you too. [KISS] [MARTIN STABS DEEPLY; THERE IS A SINGLE GASP]

(This next bit might be a stretch but also the element of not recognising your partner after an extended period of time apart.

MAG 124, Jon runs out to meet Martin for the first time out his 6 month coma, only to experience firsthand just how deep in the Lonely he is, MAG 142 Martin realises just how out of touch he is, and therefore/also how much he doesnt recognise the monster that Jon is slowly becoming.

In Sigyn, Sigyn and Loki meet for the first time after Loki's execution (I think so at least, not as familiar with TBI lore, correct me if I'm wrong), only for Sigyn to realise Loki doesn't recognise her.)

(Also yes I know TBI and TMA have no crossover but this brainworm has refused to leave and also I love it when things I'm interested in link)

[swifty-fox]

There had been precious few books in the paltry excuse for a library in the Stalag. A mismatch of subjects, many had been in German, maybe had been torn or dirtied. Pages ripped out or splattered with mud and the occasional more rusty stain Gale preferred to imagine was Wine instead of the heartsblood of some poor American G.I. field stripped and robbed by the enemy. Some were sequels with no prequels. Many were dry academic-sort texts. College textbooks and volumes of old stuffy poetry. 

They had been dull, tasteless. The few physics textbooks Gale had managed to track down to teach his fellow soldiers were interesting to him but held little excitement for the rest. But there had been one book, a gardening manual written in German that stood out. Page after page of highly detailed, lovingly painted flowers and leaves. Fat bumblebees and butterflies danced between the pages, alighting on butter yellow daffodils and pansies and tulips. Diagrams of flowers, renderings of different garden styles and configuarionts. In the brown wood, brown dirt, red blood of the Stalag it was a riot of color and life that sometimes hurt to even look at. 

John had coveted that book, pulled rank to snatch it away from the greedy ownership of his fellow soldiers. There’d been countless nights Gale had watched pore over that book as closely as if he could read the words, dirty fingernails tracing the curves of petals and leaves with desperate tenderness. He’d worn some pages translucent thin. 

Forsythia, Crocus, Azalea. Wisteria.

Spring flowers, bright flowers. They’d become little more than whispers of their own image, absorbed into John through hours of reverent touch.

John had burned it for warmth, holed up in some farmhouse halfway through their march and shivering until their teeth broke against themselves. Gale could remember his grip tight on the book, creasing the pages. He’d thought John would tuck it back into his coat pocket, thought he’d open it for one last peruse of his favorite pages.

John had tossed it on the starving flames, face impassive. 

Later, in the quiet of a German forest Gale realized he had switched coats accidentally with John at some point. A mix-up in the confusion of the march. And he finds a torn scrap of paper, nearly silk-like for how many times it had been folded and then flattened. Painted with the lavender-hued petals of Wisteria. -Kfak (WIP: 51k)

116 pages and this bitch is talking about flowers instead of letting me wrap up this damn story

[justrightofanevening]

hey loki! hypothetically, would you rather do the thing with slowly having your heartsblood drained drip by drip, or have acidic snake venom spat into your face? if you choose the latter sigyn will collect it in a bowl to stop it from hurting you, but every now and then she’ll step away to empty the venom, and…

...Now why would you want to ask something like that? Don't you have anything better to do?

[elsewhereuniversity]

It's difficult to bow with both the right amount of respect and the right amount of fuck you. The Lord of Summer hasn't taken kindly to my manners (really he has no sense of humor) and I might have had a bit too much hubris in naming myself Icarus. I'm starting to think I've girlbossed too close to the sun.

Also I think I need a new name (and a charm of protection, if you've got one to spare) soon. I mean now. Help.

A charm for you, Arsenic: knife. Specifically, this dagger with the rubies in its hilts. (Supposedly rubies, anyway - I have seen gems of spilled heartsblood once or twice before, and I have my suspicions). It hums with a vicious energy, the unmaking touch of the Unsea played in a different key, and I do not think you’d need much skill with it to do a lot of damage. They say they best defense is a good offense, after all. Good luck.

[dailycharacteroption]

Corrupting Influences: Vampirism part 4

(art by Art of Maiimou on Artstation)

 Variants

 It wouldn’t be a week-long special about a corruption with talking about how you can modify it, and there’s plenty baked into the concept of vampires to help change things up.

 Perhaps the most obvious of these is the fact that there are a lot of different types of undead that fall under the category of “vampire”. In addition to the standard moroi, there are jiang-shi, vetala, psychic vampires, and even nosferatu, to say nothing of the mysterious and rare strigoi progenitors of vampires, though those two might require some more changes that we’ll detail below for lore reasons.

In any case, whether they can spread themselves naturally or must enact rituals to do so, various vampire types might grant a victim a variety of different powers and weaknesses.

It’s also worth noting that there are several vampire-adjacent undead which you might also use this corruption with, such as the body-seperating penanggalen and manananggal, the blood-bathing sayona, and more. Any sort of undead that hides among the living might be a good fit.

There is also the question of different methods of attaining this corruption. By default, vampires directly inflict it upon their victims with repeated bites, however, perhaps a vampiric ritual gone wrong (or right) might be the cause. In fact, since nosferatu, jiang shi, and strigoi all cannot create spawn the way that other vampires can, it could be that ancient magic and curses are required to spread those particular strains.

Consider also the presence of powerful vampiric artifacts which might corrupt mortal owners, and other such objects, like the heartsblood of an ancient vampire that a mad alchemist might try to test on a victim, and so on.

 Indeed, there are many ways to evolve the vampirism corruption beyond its base form, but that will do for today. Tomorrow, we wrap things up with a deeper talk about the corruption and vampirism in media!

[docpiplup]

DAENERYS TARGARYEN APPRECIATION MONTH 2022

Day 14: Culture

•Cultural customs Dany follows

That night, when Khal Drogo came, Dany was waiting for him. He stood in the door of her tent and looked at her with surprise. She rose slowly and opened her sleeping silks and let them fall to the ground. "This night we must go outside, my lord," she told him, for the Dothraki believed that all things of importance in a man's life must be done beneath the open sky.

A Game of Thrones, Daenerys III

~

The heart was steaming in the cool evening air when Khal Drogo set it before her, raw and bloody. His arms were red to the elbow. Behind him, his bloodriders knelt on the sand beside the corpse of the wild stallion, stone knives in their hands. The stallion's blood looked black in the flickering orange glare of the torches that ringed the high chalk walls of the pit.

[...] The heart of a stallion would make her son strong and swift and fearless, or so the Dothraki believed, but only if the mother could eat it all. If she choked on the blood or retched up the flesh, the omens were less favorable; the child might be stillborn, or come forth weak, deformed, or female.

[...] The wild stallion's heart was all muscle, and Dany had to worry it with her teeth and chew each mouthful a long time. No steel was permitted within the sacred confines of Vaes Dothrak, beneath the shadow of the Mother of Mountains; she had to rip the heart apart with teeth and nails. Her stomach roiled and heaved, yet she kept on, her face smeared with the heartsblood that sometimes seemed to explode against her lips.

[...] And finally it was done. Her cheeks and fingers were sticky as she forced down the last of it. Only then did she turn her eyes back to the old women, the crones of the dosh khaleen.

A Game of Thrones, Daenerys V

~

They rode to the lake the Dothraki called the Womb of the World, surrounded by a fringe of reeds, its water still and calm. A thousand thousand years ago, Jhiqui told her, the first man had emerged from its depths, riding upon the back of the first horse.

The procession waited on the grassy shore as Dany stripped and let her soiled clothing fall to the ground. Naked, she stepped gingerly into the water. Irri said the lake had no bottom, but Dany felt soft mud squishing between her toes as she pushed through the tall reeds. The moon floated on the still black waters, shattering and re-forming as her ripples washed over it. Goose pimples rose on her pale skin as the coldness crept up her thighs and kissed her lower lips. The stallion's blood had dried on her hands and around her mouth. Dany cupped her fingers and lifted the sacred waters over her head, cleansing herself and the child inside her while the khal and the others looked on. She heard the old women of the dosh khaleen muttering to each other as they watched, and wondered what they were saying.

A Game of Thrones, Daenerys V

~

Three days into the march, the first man died. A toothless oldster with cloudy blue eyes, he fell exhausted from his saddle and could not rise again. An hour later he was done. Blood flies swarmed about his corpse and carried his ill luck to the living. "His time was past," her handmaid Irri declared. "No man should live longer than his teeth." The others agreed. Dany bid them kill the weakest of their dying horses, so the dead man might go mounted into the night lands.

Two nights later, it was an infant girl who perished. Her mother's anguished wailing lasted all day, but there was nothing to be done. The child had been too young to ride, poor thing. Not for her the endless black grasses of the night lands; she must be born again.

A Clash of Kings, Daenerys I

~

She was garbed after the Qartheen fashion. Xaro had warned her that the Enthroned would never listen to a Dothraki, so she had taken care to go before them in flowing green samite with one breast bared, silvered sandals on her feet, with a belt of black-and-white pearls about her waist. For all the help they offered, I could have gone naked. Perhaps I should have. She drank deep.

Descendants of the ancient kings and queens of Qarth, the Pureborn commanded the Civic Guard and the fleet of ornate galleys that ruled the straits between the seas. Daenerys Targaryen had wanted that fleet, or part of it, and some of their soldiers as well. She made the traditional sacrifice in the Temple of Memory, offered the traditional bribe to the Keeper of the Long List, sent the traditional persimmon to the Opener of the Door, and finally received the traditional blue silk slippers summoning her to the Hall of a Thousand Thrones.

A Clash of Kings, Daenerys III

~

Jhiqui had braided her hair Dothraki fashion, and fastened a silver bell to the end of the braid. "I have won no victories," she tried telling her handmaid when the bell tinkled softly.

Jhiqui disagreed. "You burned the maegi in their house of dust and sent their souls to hell."

That was Drogon's victory, not mine, Dany wanted to say, but she held her tongue. The Dothraki would esteem her all the more for a few bells in her hair.

A Clash of Kings, Daenerys V

~

"Your Grace," said Missandei, "Ghiscari inter their honored dead in crypts below their manses. If you would boil the bones clean and return them to their kin, it would be a kindness."

The widows will curse me all the same. "Let it be done."[...]

A Storm of Swords, Daenerys VI

~

Dany had wanted to ban the tokar when she took Meereen, but her advisors had convinced her otherwise. "The Mother of Dragons must don the tokar or be forever hated," warned the Green Grace, Galazza Galare. "In the wools of Westeros or a gown of Myrish lace, Your Radiance shall forever remain a stranger amongst us, a grotesque outlander, a barbarian conqueror. Meereen's queen must be a lady of Old Ghis." Brown Ben Plumm, the captain of the Second Sons, had put it more succinctly. "Man wants to be the king o' the rabbits, he best wear a pair o' floppy ears."

A Dance with Dragons, Daenerys I

~

"The gods of Ghis would deem it no true union." Galazza Galare's face was hidden behind a veil of green silk. Only her eyes showed, green and wise and sad. "In the eyes of the city you would be the noble Hizdahr's concubine, not his lawful wedded wife. Your children would be bastards. Your Worship must marry Hizdahr in the Temple of the Graces, with all the nobility of Meereen on hand to bear witness to your union."

[...]

"As you wish," she sighed. "I shall marry Hizdahr in the Temple of the Graces wrapped in a white tokar fringed with baby pearls. Is there anything else?"

A Dance with Dragons, Daenerys VI

~

Hand in hand, they followed the Green Grace inside the temple, where the air was thick with incense and the gods of Ghis stood cloaked in shadows in their alcoves.

Four hours later, they emerged again as man and wife, bound together wrist and ankle with chains of yellow gold.

A Dance with Dragons, Daenerys VII

•Languages

"Illyrio and I selected them personally for you. Irri will teach you riding, Jhiqui the Dothraki tongue, and Doreah will instruct you in the womanly arts of love."

A Game of Thrones, Daenerys II

~

"Khalakka dothrae mr'anha!" she proclaimed in her best Dothraki. A prince rides inside me! She had practiced the phrase for days with her handmaid Jhiqui.

A Game of Thrones, Daenerys V

~

Dany smiled. "My son has his name, but I will try your summerwine," she said in Valyrian, Valyrian as they spoke it in the Free Cities. The words felt strange on her tongue, after so long. "Just a taste, if you would be so kind."

The merchant must have taken her for Dothraki, with her clothes and her oiled hair and sun-browned skin. When she spoke, he gaped at her in astonishment. "My lady, you are … Tyroshi? Can it be so?"

"My speech may be Tyroshi, and my garb Dothraki, but I am of Westeros, of the Sunset Kingdoms," Dany told him.

A Game of Thrones, Daenerys VI

~

The pale man with the blue lips replied in guttural Dothraki, "I am Pyat Pree, the great warlock."

The bald man with the jewels in his nose answered in the Valyrian of the Free Cities, "I am Xaro Xhoan Daxos of the Thirteen, a merchant prince of Qarth."

The woman in the lacquered wooden mask said in the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms, "I am Quaithe of the Shadow. We come seeking dragons."

"Seek no more," Daenerys Targaryen told them. "You have found them."

A Clash of Kings, Daenerys I

~

"So I see. Dracarys?"

All three dragons turned their heads at the sound of that word, and Viserion let loose with a blast of pale gold flame that made Ser Jorah take a hasty step backward. Dany giggled. "Be careful with that word, ser, or they're like to singe your beard off. It means 'dragonfire' in High Valyrian. I wanted to choose a command that no one was like to utter by chance."

A Storm of Swords, Daenerys I

~

Kraznys's High Valyrian was twisted and thickened by the characteristic growl of Ghis, and flavored here and there with words of slaver argot. Dany understood him well enough, but she smiled and looked blankly at the slave girl, as if wondering what he might have said.

A Storm of Swords, Daenerys II

~

Dany laughed.

The Dornish prince flushed red, whilst her own court and counselors gave her puzzled looks. "Radiance?" said Skahaz Shavepate, in the Ghiscari tongue. "Why do you laugh?"

"They call him frog," she said, "and we have just learned why. In the Seven Kingdoms there are children's tales of frogs who turn into enchanted princes when kissed by their true love." Smiling at the Dornish knights, she switched back to the Common Tongue. "Tell me, Prince Quentyn, are you enchanted?"

A Dance with Dragons, Daenerys VII

[musekicker]

Okay so, I intend to tie these ocs in with actual Sam and Max characters at some point. I need to figure out how exactly.

But a couple of Sam and Max ocs with a little world building involved.

Nick Heartsblood: A chocolate twenty year old brown lago- hoppkin with blue eyes. A rabbit being like alien species.

The species itself are a more warrior type. The leader a warrior queen.

Nick in particular comes from a noble family ( big families in this species called warrens.) known as Hearts Blood. One of the more powerful warrens on the planet. Even though his warren was know for being rough and brutal, Nick likes to use his wits more often. And his fantastic luck that almost always works in his favor. Easy going for the mot part, just kind of bored by everything lately. But his life was good and everything was looking to stay good.

Then Nick was told by a oracle ( a feral, tricky Lago-hoppkin that has reasons to hate any of the ruling class.) that his warren was being plotted against and within the week his warren would be gone. That he would be the sole survivor because as she put it "his lucky rabbits foot".

Nick didn't quite believe it until the night that his warren was attacked by another. In one fell swoop the last of his kind. His only path was to return to the oracle, who had dangled a offer of a path to save himself if he were to flee the planet and take her with him.

So he does. And of course, they end up on Earth.

And of course they end up on a path that will lead warring planets, a weapon, and if fate or luck comes out ahead.

Talia Graveberry

A twelve year old Lago-Hoppkin, a ashy grey color with green eyes. The tips of her fingers are black. Stained magically some say, from the story that maybe she poisoned the last elder oracle. That is very much not the truth as Talia wants nothing to do with being a oracle. She has poisoned a guard once so most likely where that story started.

Generally very angry and wild as she can get, hating her path in life and honestly everyone else. So when she can get a chance to get out because of Nick, she takes it.

Swears, yells, and bites her way through life really.

[honourablejester]

Heart: The City Beneath – Major Abilities

It’s much harder to talk about a favourite major ability for each class in Heart, because the major abilities are more … they’re bigger, they’re what you want your playstyle to be. They’re almost like a subclass? Each class has about five or six options, and you start with one, and getting more requires some big story beats, so they’re fairly defining for you. So when I’m talking about favourites here, I’m talking about how I personally would want to focus a character of that class.

Each major ability also lets you pick a couple of extra minor ones that buff it once you have it, so you can improve your major abilities with minor ones once you get it going.

Cleaver:

BLOODBOUND BEAST. You are accompanied by a ragged cryptid that follows your commands – an ancient stone-browed stag, a razortoothed heartsblood hound or something stranger. You feed it your blood, and it fights for you. You gain the Bloodbound tag on all weapons as you and your companion work in concert.

The Cleaver has five major abilities to choose from, a support option that gives the party skills, a combat option that gives you a great big weapon, a hungry option that leans on the classes core ability to gain skills/domains by eating things, and a transformation option that lets you pay in stress to do more damage. And then there’s this option, which gives you a ragged companion, a strange, rough animal to follow you. If you want a pet, this is the ability for you, and it’s a Heart pet, so it’s weird and offputting and wonderful. One of the minor abilities you can get for this is FAITHFUL UNTIL THE END, which does exactly what it sounds like it does and allows your faithful pet to die in your stead, at which point you’re required to pick a different major ability and you can never take this one again. Which. If you want to smash your character’s heart to pieces? Could be a good narrative shout.

Deadwalker:

ECHOES. You can glimpse the remnants of what has come before. Roll Discern + Domain to witness ghostly recreations of the past in your current location. This will generally show the most interesting or dramatic thing that occurred within recent memory.

Deadwalkers again get five options to choose from, one that lets you hurl yourself into the shadow world faster, one that lets you push through the shadow world to the afterlives beyond, one that turns your death into a poltergeist that helps you out, and one that lets you sacrifice your protection to hit enemies harder. And then there’s this one, which gives you psychometry. And we all know from other games that I just really like psychometry? I like knowing things, I like sensing things, I like weird tools that let me see things I shouldn’t. Although, to be fair, the heaven-exploring option is also extremely tempting.

Deep Apiarist:

UNCHAOS. The Heart is a chaotic place, and you seek to undo that with ancient magic. Roll Mend+Occult to cast this spell. On a success, for the remainder of the situation, you or one nearby ally treats Risky actions as Standard actions (keep the highest rolled dice) as probability coalesces around you and crystallizes at your feet.

Deep Apiarists are about resetting reality. Their five options are one that makes their body inimical to the Heart, doing extra damage to Heart creatures, one that turns their body into a mind healing item for your party, one that takes any mind stress you have and inflicts it on your opponents via your core bee swarm, and one that gives you bonus dice if you roll 6s. And then there’s this. Which is you casting a spell to just make life a fuck tonne easier for you or a party member. You can also buff it to make it a small AOE, though people have to stay right beside you for it to work. But it’s … The reality-bending bees are out here doing the work with this one.

Heretic:

OATH OF SAGACITY. You have learned one of the secret names of Three-Fold Damnou, and when you speak it aloud your enemies are struck senseless by its power. The name of the Goddess functions as the following weapon: (Kill D6, Spread, Debilitating, Maddening, One-Shot).

The Heretics get five major abilities, linking to five of the six Damnic virtues of their faith, which I enjoy. The virtue they’re missing is Grace, and it’s an in-universe doctrinal question as to why that is. Your options are one that gives you and sometimes someone near you physical protection, one that turns you into a divine terminator that takes mind damage if they haven’t killed a worthy foe by the end of the session, one that lets you do more damage/get further if you take and succeed on riskier actions, and one that lets you mystically sense creatures in your vicinity. And you’d think, given the Deadwalker above, that I’d pick that last one. But I just enjoy the ‘knowledge man was not meant to know’ that’s inherent in knowing one of the secret names of a god and speaking it as a weapon.

Hound:

STARE DOWN. You have a reputation as a terrifying enforcer; just looking at some folk is enough to get them to throw down their weapons. Your gaze functions as a weapon (Kill D6, ranged). It only works when your target can see you and if they have the capacity to be scared of you – so criminals are fair game, but heartsblood predators aren’t. You can use this “weapon” in a haven or other landmark without causing a huge ruckus. Your gaze won’t kill people – it’s disheartening, and if you reduce an opponent’s resistance to 0 with it they surrender, try to bargain their way out or trip and incapacitate themselves whilst fleeing.

Hounds are so practical. I actually really, really like them? And they have a bit of a wild west vigilante vibe as well. Of their five options, one lets them mark people as criminals which gives them advantages against them, one kind of possesses them with the spirit of trench warfare which gives them better unarmed and bonuses to close quarters, one gives them a Pumpkin Scissors-style berserker state where the more damaged they are the more damage they’re doing back, one gives them the ability to prep for a situation granting themselves and the party a choice of several benefits (and can be buffed), which was extremely tempting. But then there was this. Which is the ability to Clint Eastwood stare somebody into submission. Your stare does actual damage to people. And yes, you can buff it with a minor ability so that it works just fine on heartsblood predators. And, like. I mean you’ve got to pick that, right?

Incarnadine:

KARMIC LEDGER. Once you know what’s keeping someone awake at night, it’s much easier to take advantage of them. Roll Discern+Haven to cast this spell on a target you can see and hear. On a success, you determine their deepest karmic debt: the greatest thing that they’ve taken from someone else (money, valuables, freedom, a son, etc). When you act on this information, roll with mastery.

Incarnadines are about debts and deals and backstabbing, and their abilities reflect that. Sometimes quite literally. They get six potential options. One that lets you literally backstab people for bonuses, one support option that lets you pray to the god of debt to help someone else out, one that helps with NPC interactions that compels them to want something, one that lets you add a haven to your god’s network and get bonuses for it, one tempting one that lets you channel an incarnation of your god to do continuous minor damage to any enemy that can see you, and this one. Which is … I feel like if you’re going to worship a god of debt, it should let you see the biggest debt someone owes? And not in the sense of something they borrowed, but in the sense of something they’ve stolen. Their biggest karmic debt. If you worship a god of ledgers, you should be able to read the books.

Junk Mage:

KISS OF THE DROWNED QUEEN. You have glimpsed the sunken Court of the Drowned Queen, where she slumbers and awaits the resurgence of her line. With a touch, you can conjure salt water in the lungs of those who oppose you. This spell functions as the following weapon: (Kill D6, Piercing.) If the target is at least shin-deep in water, it inflicts D8 damage.

Right. So. The Junk Mage’s major abilities are spells they’ve gotten that call on major powers. There’s four big powers that they draw on: The Red King, The Sky Court, The Drowned Queen, and the Stone Chorus. They have six options, two each for the Red King and the Sky Court, one each for the other two. The Sky Court lets you either induce an orgy and/or the purge, or it gives you hyper adhd for a while. The Red King lets you either smell money and desire, or set things (and people) on fire. The Stone Chorus gives you and your party access to a temple mid-travel to be safe in, which is tempting. But I just like the Drowned Queen. Of the two damage spells, I want the one that drowns people on land. You know?

Vermissian Knight:

AETHERIC FIELD. Your armour buzzes with static that makes your hair stand on end; this discharge can keep you safe from the body-warping effects of the Vermissian. Once per session, activate this power. You gain +3 Echo protection until the end of the current situation.

The Vermissian Knights are very tanky, and their options are quite similar to the Cleaver’s, now that I look at them. Again, five options. One that gives them a great big monster-killing weapon (and a buff that lets them summon the monster in question), one that lets them push their armour to the limits, paying in stress to do more, one that lets them protect their allies, one that lets them pay in stress to do more exploring, and this one. I don’t know if its just the techological vibe, but I enjoy using your armour to create a protective electrical field that wards off weird damage. You can also buff it to create an aoe, and make it rechargeable. I like wards, as a concept. I enjoy this.

Witch:

LAIR. You adopt or create a predatory building and claim it as your own; it still eats people, but it doesn’t eat you. The building in question is no larger than a small shop or study. Inside, the shadows crawl and scurry, the walls creak and whisper and a maddening heart‐beat thuds at the back of your consciousness – perfect for you, but unsettling for anyone else. Any non-witch who enters your lair must roll Resist+Occult and mark D6 stress to Echo on a failure or D4 stress to Echo on a partial success. When you are in a landmark, roll Mend+Occult to summon your lair. On a success, it’s always been here, as far as anyone knows. Your lair acts as a bond (p. 98) – if it suffers fallout, it’s either eaten someone who’ll be missed or been damaged by suspicious locals.

… Witches are weird magic werewolf people, which is a great standing start for fun abilities. They have six options, and they’re all pretty much delightfully weird. One that lets them make the area around them more occult, automatically letting them aid a domain dice to almost everything, one that lets them see omens of what’s to come in a mirror (which lets them warp reality more than see the future), one that lets them attack people using blood as a vector, one that gives them a weird pet that they can channel damage into rather than taking it themselves, one that improves their werewolf form, and then this one. Which just … gives them a cool sentient hungry shop that follows them around and can act as their base in locations? I just. I feel like if you have the option, you should always choose to have your own predatory tea shop following you around?

End Thoughts:

I love that all these classes are so weird and so interesting. And there’s a good selection of play styles that you can work with even within your class.

[kettlequills]

monster hunter au

inspired by the au roulette, i was messing around with an au generator and got this. short little thing for fun.

Andy slammed his fist into the table and bellowed, “FUCK!”

The computer jumped on the desk, abandoned pens rattling in a chipped coffee mug. The screen shivered, but the damning news post was still up, reflecting a glossy scan of gory newsprint, splashed with the attention-grabbing headline; “MONSTER MURDERS?”

“Fucking – Hackensack,” said Andy, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and bouncing his knee in time to his words, “We – were – just – there!”

Across the room, the eerie sounds of silver stakes being sharpened never stopped. Kyle’s blonde head was bent over her work, narrowed eyes examining the lethal points. She tested her fingertip against one. “Knew that Wheeler kid wasn’t working alone. And we did lose Pierce’s body after you shot her.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Andy muttered. The white blare of the screen highlighted the deep creases beneath his eyes. “But look it up – right – throats slashed, total exsanguination, tooth and claw marks… And – check this, half the bodies have missing hearts. Kyle. Remember the murder of that cop – Bailey? 1990s? The Tilly murders? Valentine’s work or I’m no monster hunter.”

He slapped his jiggling knee, grinning across at her, all boyish humour and just a spark of revenge in his brown eyes. There was a curry stain on his shirt, yellowish and faded, and he hadn’t washed his hair in days; not since they’d got back from Hackensack with nothing but a dead kid and a wounded werewolf to show for days of hunting.

“You think Tiffany Valentine?” Kyle looked up; her lips pursed. “Why’d she be working with a wolf like Nica Pierce and a kid like Wheeler?”

“Could be someone’s got a taste for wolf claws,” said Andy, speculatively. He waggled his brows at her.

Kyle scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Vampires hate werewolves. Their venom doesn’t work on them.”

“But you know what vampire venom does do to werewolves?” Andy was grinning. When Kyle raised her eyebrow, he burst out, crowing, “Makes ‘em drunk! And who’d we shoot full silver? Pain relief, eh?”

“Valentine wouldn’t come out of deep cover to risk her ass feeding off heartsblood to make enough venom to keep a werewolf in her cups,” Kyle said, flatly, but she put down the stakes, preparing to be convinced. “That’s dumb as fuck. She wouldn’t have avoided us so long if she were taking stupid risks.”

“But who would she take dumbshit risks for?”

Kyle frowned at his wheedling tone. “Chucky can’t possess other supernaturals, and we looked into Nica’s escape from the facility; some idiot forgot to put the full moon chains on. Guess she didn’t feel like going back when she woke up. It’s not Valentine.”

“And I’ll bet Tiffany’s working with Nica, and I’ll bet Chucky’s involved,” said Andy, warming to his theme, “C’mon. Chucky was a normal poltergeist – four deaths ago, maybe. What’s the bet it’s him again?”

“You think every monster we hunt could be Chucky,” said Kyle, but she smiled, a thin, flat little thing. “Fine. We’ll check it out.”

“Yes!” Andy pumped his fist.

“And when it’s not Chucky again, you’re cooking me dinner.”

��That’s fine!” He was still grinning. “It’ll be him! C’mon. If we leave now and don’t stop, we can be in Hackensack by tomorrow evening.”

“It better be a nice dinner,” Kyle muttered, and grabbed the stakes.

[viraegos]

                    sing o goddess, of how we toppled kingdoms with our lips.     sing of how we singlehandedly ended the world by whispering in a weak man's ear.     sing of how our power does not lie in cowardly murder but in the power of our heartsblood.     o goddess, sing of medusa instead, of her cold unforgiving eyes.     sing of helen too, and her need to see the world burn.     sing for brave psyche, who won immortality and also a man.     sing of all of us, and how in the end we didn't need to blood our hands to rip the world to shreds.          ©

[angelus-a13]

taking my time (do you hear that?)

taking my time to weave a little magic place my words carefully raise the spell, cradling it home weaving my magic between each letter wrapped in ink flow, bold as brass capturing my carrion shriek next to your songbird melody the magic you hold in this refrain stitch it together with me, heartsblood cries out lacing each note, come home to me rest beneath my wing and we’ll hold it close

taking my time to stitch together this glorious mess of blood and bone taking up your time to carry it home, raise it to the sky sing and scream and only we can know what it means an antidote to the evil in the claw of the hawk the sin of the hooked beak we cannot seek to destroy, burn it all down in the crescendo of a lark we’ll weave this little magic and bring it all home

[ashencontract]

ASHEN CONTRACT: [COMPLETE]

Time passes.

All of you disperse to the winds, your paychecks from Sophia allowing you to live a much more comfortable existence after the mission than you otherwise might have been able to. For the short term, at least- it's up to you whether you put that money to use wisely, or blow it all on unwise investments. Certainly the first five, seven years or so after that mission on the Inferno are uneventful.

Save for the fact that the Catastrophes have stopped, of course. Nobody really knows it was you, save for the other employees on board the Inferno, and who's going to believe Oose? Exactly. It's a cause for celebration, initially. Until the world realizes that the Originite veins are slowly- but surely- drying up. There's panic. Strife. Powerplays over access to the last reserves of Originite, some of which you might even find yourself contracted to fight in- if you still want to live the Operator life, of course. But the inevitability of Originite depletion weighs heavy on everyone's shoulders.

What now? How will mankind power its cities, its technology, after years of total dependence on Originite?

Ten years is a long time.

But 'Big Slappy', former head of the Inferno, is a patient boy. And a clever one, too. Having successfully dipped his flippers into scientific research with the mission to cure Cherry of their Heartsblood affliction, his bright little eyes have set their sights on greater callings. And now all the scientific circles are in hot debate over his new research paper:

Can you split an atom?

ASHEN CONTRACT: END

[sistersorrow]

Kneeling before an altar stained with my heartsblood, crying and begging God for a Rule 34 downloader that supports blacklists

[genderdotcom]

riahwyll: bladehammer

japhetlach: heartsblood

[advancedcorpsematerials]

The Fates met by the players in our Heart: The City Beneath campaign

Cardemom-Was thrown into the beating, vascular, core of the place. Taking the spot of a weary, nihilistic God that was spawned by Card's own belief. Using his newfound dominion he unmade his enemies, and set his disciples on the path.

Queen's Solemn Sanctum-Turned themself into a "dimensional bastion" trapping the Founding Board, turning the Heart into a kind of Eden, and saving their girlfriend. The hives will speak their name.

Lucky-Due to fallout incurred by a failed hop to the death dimension, lucky was welcomed to the afterlife by the open arms of everyone he ever killed and made their king. Veins sprouted from his brow and hardened to iron forming a crown. In accordance with tradition, he removed his one remaining eye.

Majyd-Utilizing his ancestral sword, the knight purged the Heartsblood from his body. Now remade, he walked into the sunset and became a train.