#hopefully it isn't too much lol

[orthodoxadventure]

Икона Божией Матери именуемая "Отгоняющая злые помыслы". The icon of the Mother of God called "Driving away evil thoughts".

[fedoraspooky]

I haven’t been here long. What irritating changes have been made?

Credit where it's due, some changes have been good, like polls and stuff! But the big recent changes thus far that I would classify as irritating are:

- The UI change. This one may be less irritating for newcomers because it's basically the same layout as twitter and instagram, but for a lot of folks who've been here a long time, it feels cramped and like a loss of identity for the site. For many, the appeal of tumblr is that it ISN'T an algorithm hell like twitter or insta. Also, there's the annoyance of having to relearn where everything is, because it all got moved around.

- The users being lab rats for various tests the devs wanna pull out of nowhere without consenting to beta testing new site features- like the one that took away user icons on the dash for like half the site. They finally put them back after getting enough feedback that said NO, but users were so used to their feedback being disregarded that they were half expecting the change to be pushed through anyway.

- The Netflix tie-in advertising being pushed even to people who had PAID tumblr for a no-ads experience. Complete with them somehow thinking it would be a good idea to put an unescapable-by-scrolling spooky clown on peoples' dashboards that u had to use ublock to get rid of. While I'm not scared of clowns and often find them quite charming, it sucks that staff didn't take coulrophobia being a common fear into account.

- A wave of fully sfw trans posts being wrongfully marked Mature and staff doing little to nothing about it. Not sure if this is still ongoing, but it destroyed a lot of trust and good will. (LGBT+ users have been having to fight a constant war against censorship ever since the adult content ban on tumblr, so yeah... Nevar 4get the list of banned search words that would bring back no results, like 'girl')

- The site gradually moving away from customization. Tumblr is a BLOGGING site. But it seems to have lost sight of that fact, because most new users don't even know you can fully customize your blogs with css and stuff (an option that is now off by default for new accounts!), because of the in-dash viewer giving you only how blogs look on mobile, which is a lot more uniform. There, it's more like every other site- you get a banner and icon. Oh, but you can change colors and fonts from a drop-down list too, that's cool I guess. Though they recently took away custom color schemes on Message windows, just another little bit of personalization taken away.

- TUMBLR. LIVE. Basically tumblr teamed up with a skeevy dating app partner to allow for livestreams- but not the cool kinda livestreams like on twitch where you can draw or play games, no- to a site full of people who value anonymity, they decided to push phone cam only livestreams. Not only that but by agreeing to the terms, you're giving out tons of personal data including your location to said skeevy dating app partner and all of THEIR third-party ad partners. Needless to say, most people didn't wanna use it, so instead of users it's flooded by p*rn bots (which is ANOTHER issue we've been dealing with for a long time and have been getting an even bigger influx of FROM tumblr live) and scammers. And thus, since tumblr likes to put a carousel of current streams on people's dashes, you often get softcore p*rn thumbnails from the bot streams with no way to avoid it except for toggling off tumblr live entirely.

- Oh wait. That's right. You CAN'T toggle it off. Because you can only snooze it for a while until BAM, you're jumpscared by a carousel of ladies licking your screen again! But hey, at least they made the snooze 30 days instead of the 7 it used to be, right? Yeah, except for the fact that you can't get rid of the tumblr live button itself on the app anymore, and now it's front and center with a NEW notification tag on it, overlapping your dash and cramming useful stuff like the search button out of the way.

NOW- A lot of this stuff CAN be at least mostly fixed on desktop by installing ublock and xkit and tampermonkey + dashboard unfucker... But that's a lot of stuff just to make the site usable, you know?

[grxceful-ly]

sabezra day: fixing something

didn't get to finish a full piece so have this snippet i wrote! @sabezraweek

Her heart felt out of place in her chest, her mind offset from her body. It was the strangest thing she'd ever felt. It was the worst thing. Because there was nothing she could do. It wasn't anger (so no punching), it wasn't sadness (no punching there either), and it wasn't happiness (she'd forgotten what that felt like). 

But then it was all of these things. It was everything at once. Regret. For losing them and what they'd had. A lingering awkwardness even though it had never been that way. 

They'd been so good. And now it was all gone. Like those days on the Ghost never happened. 

Her chest felt bitter. An all encompassing hopelessness—and for what? Because she couldn't touch her best friend's hand? Or lean in close? Or tell him that right now, she was spiraling? She had him back. That should be enough. It was enough.

Sabine shook her head. She couldn't do this to him. Not now. 

“I’m gonna fix this,” she said. “I’ll fix us.”

And though the same bitterness she felt in her heart crowded his eyes, Ezra breathed out what might be a laugh. An incredulous one, like he couldn't believe her. 

He gathered her hands in his—so easily, so jarringly easy—and shook his head. “We don't need fixing, Sabine. We’re not broken. We’re just. . .” He looked off, finding words. Then his eyes came back to her and they searched her face and he said, “We just have to learn each other again.”

[liquidstar]

Between commissions I finally managed to finish this OC set of parent characters! If the looks aren't enough to show you who their kid is, the background colors match them ^_^ but of course more details below!

Name: Thuban

Name origin: The former pole star, before the north star (Polaris), it's name means "Large snake" and is referred to as the “Dragon's tail”

Pronouns: He/him

Age: N/A

Relation: Raised Polaris, though they're not related by blood and have a somewhat distant relationship, until he suddenly went MIA

Weapon: Spear (Same as Polaris's)

Ethos (Power): N/A

Flaw power is based on: N/A

Notes: Make no phallic jokes about the large snake thing and you'll be rewarded

Name: Ananke

Name origin: A moon of Jupiter, named for the mythological spirit of necessity, inevitably, and compulsion

Pronouns: She/her

Age: -

Relation: Bella's mother, she raised her to be a warrior

Weapon: Bardiche

Ethos (Power): Indomination (The ability to freeze the movement of objects and people, and lock them in place)

Flaw power is based on: Her strict enforcement of obedience through authoritarianism, and a lack of concern for the wishes of others

Notes: She believes in tough love. It's better in the long run to give your kid strength rather than affection.

Name: Rhea

Name origin: A moon of Saturn named after the Titan known as the mother of the gods

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 38

Relation: Saiph's mother, though she gave him up to the guild when he was very young

Weapon: None

Ethos (Power): None

Flaw power is based on: N/A

Notes: Was unable to take care of a baby at the time, and gave Saiph to the guild. She wishes she'd visited beyond that but it's probably too late now...

Name: Arche

Name origin: One of Jupiter's moons, it's name comes from the muse of new beginnings and is associated with springtime

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 7

Relation: Saiph's half-brother. Neither currently knows the other exists

Weapon: None

Ethos (Power): None

Flaw power is based on: N/A

Notes: He's just a little guy. He likes flowers and playing with toys. He wants to be a cool hero like his dad

Name: Poerava

Name origin: A star in Tucana, the Maori word for a black pearl of mystical beauty and perfection

Pronouns: She/her

Age: -

Relation: Al's mom. She mostly raised him on her own while her husband was with the knights.

Weapon: None

Ethos (Power): None

Flaw power is based on: N/A

Notes: Probably the best parent of the bunch if we're being real.

[asimplearchivist]

Looking at the very specific assumptions ask game thingy you reblogged and here’s a handful of mine:

You want to enjoy the subtle flavors of tea, but have a hard time enjoying it when it’s not 20% honey and 30% creamer.

You have a hard time letting go of past conflicts, even when you’ve made up with the person(s) involved and are on good terms with them.

Possessing a trust fund and blue eyes are not a requirement for your ideal man but being 6’5” is non-negotiable (/lh)

If given the opportunity to leave this world and enter a new one a la PMD or any isekai media ever, you would be very tempted, but ultimately would choose to remain in this world.

You own a stuffed animal you’ve had since early childhood that you would start a world war if it was damaged in any way.

Sofie…are you living in my walls?😳

I do want to enjoy tea so so bad. So bad. I want to be a tea enjoyer and know how to brew it to perfection. However it always tastes thin and flat and I do, in fact, only drink it with oodles of honey and milk (as I do coffee with sugar and creamer).

I...yeah. I didn't need my kneecaps anyway haha (totally not rethinking my complicated feelings about my last breakup...huh.)

This is a notorious trait of mine and a long term inside joke with my friends and family irl. I always say that the guys I'm attracted to just happen to be tall, but...it does certainly have appeal, I'll admit. (My ex was 6'4" while I'm a crisp 5'0" so take that how you will lol - anybody's going to end up taller than me just about tbh)

I'm not so sure about this one tbh. If it was involuntary and sudden, sure, I'd struggle with it bc I'm close to my family (particularly my mom)...but I would eventually adjust. If it were voluntary, though, and I got to pick where? (*coughs* Thedas or the PMD world tbh *coughs*) And I could escape the hellscape that is the big scary world where one has to pay taxes? I may just opt to fight dragons.

My sister gave me I guess technically a vintage Eevee plush she got brand new (she's nine years older than me, mind, and was the one who introduced me to Pokemon to start with; I remember her coming over one night to go to a skate rink and she was playing R/S/E where you run into the Keckleon by the pond outside Fortree City - she let me battle it, but I don't really remember what Pokemon she had on her team). She had gotten rid of a bunch of stuff like cards and the like, and I've kept it all. The plush currently sits on the shelf by my bed along with the Grovyle and Dusknoir ones I bought recently, as well as some slightly older Treecko and Leafeon ones (although I want to get the Leafeon and Lucario sitting cuties as well eventually). So...yes. It's very special to me.

[damallarky]

So nothing gets me out of a ten year writer's slump like Dragon Age, apparently. I was going to write a quick character study for my Rook, but then it took a life of its own and turned into a 5000+ word monstrosity.

You can also read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57135346

Anyway, my first fic in ten years. Enjoy!

-

At the Black Swan tavern in Minrathous, an elven man with bright red hair sat on a massive barrel, tuning a lute. At first glance, it would appear that he was entirely engrossed in the instrument. If they paid close attention, however, they would notice his green eyes dart imperceptibly from guest to guest as if taking stock of each person who entered the tavern. 

To be fair, this was exactly what Renan was doing. The Shadow Dragons had been given a tip that the Venatori were having a meeting here tonight. He had been given instructions to keep an eye on them, make a note of how many attended, and if there was anyone there he recognized. 

Ren was good at that, using his talent at the lute, voice, and good looks to get him information, and he used his particular skill set often. Sometimes, he played in chamber halls and ballrooms of the Minrathous elite, and they were goldmines, to be sure. But if he was honest, he preferred the establishments of the working class. One would be surprised at how much information could be gained at the taverns and brothels of the world. 

Even better, Ren was familiar with this particular tavern, having played here countless times before. 

‘See anything good yet, Hope?’ He thought through the bond to his spirit companion, currently flitting between the rafters somewhere. He thought he had caught a glimpse of black feathers once or twice, but he couldn’t be sure. 

‘No. Not yet.’ He heard her say. 

Suddenly, in his mind’s eye, he saw the vision of a mouse cleaning itself on one of the rafters, not noticing the great, winged beast lurking in the shadows a mere foot away.

‘Hope…’, Ren moaned internally, ‘I just fed you.’

‘Well, yes… But I am still hungry.’

‘Well, I don’t want to find puked-up mouse bones on my pillow tonight. Again.'

‘Ugh. Fine.’ Hope grumbled.

Ren could practically feel the eye roll from his companion, and he struggled to keep his face neutral. He was halfway through tuning a string to A when his own stomach began to grumble. He hadn’t had much to eat today, or at all, what little he did have going to fill his daughter Esana’s belly. 

‘Maybe I should catch a mouse for you to eat.’ He heard Hope say. 

‘Thanks, but no…’

‘When was the last time you ate?’

‘In the morning.’

‘Which morning?’

‘…’

‘Renan…’

‘…Yesterday.’

‘RENAN.’

Ren winced against the shrill voice echoing in his head. A man sitting at a table nearby gave him an odd look, to which Ren responded with a sheepish wave.

“Lute strings!” He said in way of explanation. “They don’t make them like they used to.”

The man merely grunted and went back to his tankard. 

‘Look, Hope.’ He said. ‘I promise I will get something to eat tonight after we’re through.’

‘I will hold you to that, Renan.’

The tavern began to fill in earnest as more workers ended their day shift. Amongst the crowd, Ren noticed a group of shifty-eyed men gathering at a nondescript table closer to the back of the bar. It had probably the worst lighting in the entire tavern, but the darkness made it particularly well suited for those who maybe didn’t want to be watched too closely, such as lovers…. Or secretive organizations.

Interesting…

‘Is Esana still in our room?’ Ren asked as he tuned a string to E flat. 

‘Yes,’ came Hope’s reply, ‘She was asleep when I left. Why?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t want a repeat of last time, where she snuck out for an entire hour without anyone noticing after I explicitly told her not to?’

‘Ah, yes. Wherever does your daughter get her complete and utter disregard for authority? It is truly a mystery for the ages.’

Ren couldn’t help but laugh at that. Hope had become quite adept at using sarcasm over the years. 

‘Fair.’ He said. ‘I suppose she does come by it naturally.’

‘What is that mortal saying about apples and trees?’

‘Har har. Alright you made your point.’

Out of the corner of his eye, Ren saw a man walk in that he recognized. The thin, balding man was a Magister, albeit a low-ranking one. Ren couldn’t remember what the man actually did in the Magisterium, exactly, only that it was something asinine.

Asinine or note, that didn’t explain what he was doing here, of all places. The Black Swan was a little too plebeian for most Magisters.

‘Well, well.’ He thought ‘Look who’s slummin’ it up with the rest of us. Interesting.’

‘That is the man in charge of grain tax collection!’ He heard Hope say.

‘He is?’ Ren asked. ‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I pay attention, Renan.’

‘Oh… Well, I’m glad one of us does…’

Ren’s interest peaked even further as he watched as the magister walk to the back, taking a seat at the table with the group Ren had noticed earlier.

Very interesting…

‘Alright, it looks like the Venatori dinner party has started. Table in the back.’ He said. ‘Let’s get to work, shall we?’           

‘We shall. Good luck, Ren.’

‘You as well, Hope.’

Ren walked up the stairs to the small stage at the front of the bar. With a bright grin, he played the first few notes of the song on his lute and began to sing.

“Oh, come along with me, love.

Come along with me.

Come for one night and be my wife.

And come along with me.”

While still playing the notes to the chorus on the lute, Ren stopped singing to address the crowd.

“Grata! Bienviedo! Welcome good people of Minrathous.” He said. “My name is Rook, and I am here to add a little song to your evening. But enough with the pleasantries! The night is young, and I don’t know about you lot, but I am far, far too sober!”

His grin broadened as the crowd began to laugh and cheer. Ren heard a few of them shout, “Here, here!” and his playing grew stronger as he egged the crowd on further. 

“So, let’s raise a glass,” Ren crowed, “and let the night of drinking and debauchery begin!”

And, with that, he began to sing once more, his voice strong and clear.

“Well it is of a jolly butcher, as you might plainly see,

As he roved out one morning in search of company.

He went into a tavern and a fair girl he did see

And said ‘Come for one night and be my wife,

Oh come along with me!’”

Ren jumped off of the stage and began to weave in and around the tables as he continued his song. 

“He called for liquor of the best

And he made such fortune play

‘Come have a drink, it'll make us think

That it is our wedding day’”

‘I cannot hear them, Renan.’ He heard Hope’s voice say in his head as he played. ‘Distract them so I can fly down and slip underneath their table.’

Ren began to maneuver himself to the back of the bar, stopping every so often to play at another table to make it look less conspicuous. He danced around a waitress as she was carrying mugs of ale, giving her a bright smile that made her blush prettily. Finally, he stopped at the Venatori’s table, placing his foot on the edge of the table top with a thunk. Balancing his lute on his knee while he played, he leaned forward and winked at the Magister, who fumed. So focused were they all at the elf and his sheer audacity, that they didn’t notice the small black figure silently fly down from the rafters, dodge the various foot traffic, and tiptoe underneath the table.

‘I made it, Ren!’ Hope crowed, triumphantly.

Ren beamed at the crowd and continued his song.

“Well, he called for a candle to light their way to bed

And when he had her in the room these words to her he said

‘A sovereign I will give to you for to embrace your charms.’

And all that night, that fair young maid lied in the butcher's arms.

Oh, come along with me, love

Come along with me!

Come for one night and be my wife

And come along with me.

Well, about one year later he went roving out once more,

And he went into the tavern where he'd often been before.

He wasn't in there very long when his fair maid he did see,

And she brought forth a baby three months old and placed it on his knee.”

Some of the crowd began to chuckle as they realized where the song was going. Ren’s playing picked up in volume as he reached the punch line. 

“And when he saw the baby, he began to curse and swear

And he said unto that fair young maid, ‘Why did you bring him here?!’

‘Well, he is your own, kind sir’, she said, ‘Do not think me strange

Well, that sovereign that you gave to me, well I gives you back your change!’”

The crowd burst into raucous laughter, and Ren couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as he finished the song.

“Oh, come along with me, love

Come along with me!

Come for one night and be my wife

And come along with me!”

With a flourish he played the last few chords as the crowd’s laughter turned into applause. He gave a bow, and as he stood back up he saw a flash of red dart through the crowd.

“Dammit.” He muttered. 

‘What happened?’ He heard Hope ask. He turned to the crowd.

“Thank you! You have been a wonderful audience!” Ren exclaimed. “Don’t forget to tip your waitresses! If you need me, I’ll be by the bar.”

The crowd quickly went back to their food and drink, and Ren made a beeline for the bar. 

‘I thought you said Esana was sleeping.’ He demanded through the bond. 

‘She was!’ The spirit replied. ‘I thought she was. Oh! But she might have been faking, now that I think about it. The snoring was a bit too loud.’

To which Ren could only groan.

The Maker had to have it out for him. That was the only explanation. 

‘Don’t move, Hope.’ He said. ‘Keep listening in on the Venatori. I want to have something to report back to the Dragons before the night is over.’

“Only one song tonight, Rook?” Asked one of the waitresses, Rosa, as she carried a tray full of food and drink.

“Can’t be helped, Rosa.” He said as he approached the bar. The barkeeper, a jovial older man with a wiry frame and bright eyes named Julius, poured him a glass of water with a knowing grin.

“Loose something?” He asked.

“Ugh.” Was Ren’s articulate response. Julius only laughed as Ren downed the water in one gulp before setting the glass back down on the counter with a thunk.

“You didn’t happen to see which way she went, did you?” Ren asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Aye. She snuck out the back door.” 

“Thank you, Julius.”

“Best of luck, Rook!” 

-

Ren stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the cool night air to center himself. He needed to remain calm. Esana couldn’t have gotten far.

In the distance he heard the sound of cheering. Children cheering. He relaxed slightly; he had a feeling whatever was going on, Esana was probably around, if not directly involved.

He followed the sound of cheering until he turned a corner and found himself staring at a veritable horde of children all gathered around a circle. In the middle, playing what looked like a game of bones against an older human boy, was Esana.

“That looks like another game for me!” She exclaimed as she grabbed the copper pieces and put it in her already fairly substantial pile of winnings.

The boy didn’t seem too pleased. 

“That’s not fair!” He cried. “You cheated!”

“How do you cheat at bones, Dax?” One of the other children asked. Dax’s face only grew more red as the other children began to laugh. 

“Yeah, Dax.” Esana taunted as she began to count her winnings. “Don’t be a sore looser.”

“Why you-“

Whatever Dax was about to say was cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the alley. Out of the darkness, a behemoth of a man emerged. He had lank, dark hair that clung to his face and a scar that ran from one side of his neck to the other. He approached the children, most of whom had already scurried away, and sneered at them with yellowing teeth. 

“What do we have here?” The large man asked as he loomed over the children eyeing the pile of money. “You brats got some money for me?”

“No!” Esana cried. “That’s mine!” She stood up, putting herself between the man and the coin. 

Ren could have sworn his heart had stopped beating then, as he watched the giant man loom over his daughter. His daughter, who looked so very small standing in that man’s shadow. Thinking quickly, Ren grabbed a bottle from a nearby drunkard and flicked a coin his way before the man could complain too much.  

“What did you say, little knife ear?” The man sneered as he pulled an out a wicked looking dagger. “Perhaps I should teach you a lesson of what happens when pests like you talk back to your betters.”

Esana’s eyes widened as the knife was held merely inches from her face. The man made to grab her, but before he could do anything, Ren staggered out of the darkness as if drunk, practically barreling into the man. He made a show of spilling the contents of his bottle all over the man’s clothes. 

“M’so sorry, serah.” He said, slurring his words together. “It seems I-“ and he hiccuped here for effect “-I can’t seem to hold me liquor! Can’t seem to carry it neither.”

Ren gave his best drunken laugh as he pointed to the almost empty bottle of booze. Predictably, the man took the bait, grabbing Ren by the collar and shoving him hard against the wall. 

“Stupid elf! I should gut you here and now!” 

Too busy threatening him, the man didn’t notice Ren pull on the Fade, summoning flames in his left hand. 

“Gut me?” Ren asked, feigning innocence. “While you’re on fire?”

The man stared at Ren in confusion before bursting into laughter.

“On fire? You must be drunker than I-“

Suddenly, the man let out an inhuman screech as Ren held the flame against the man’s alcohol drenched clothes, quickly setting them ablaze with a satisfying woosh. The man dropped Ren as he tried to quickly strip off his burning clothes.

Ren, for his part, didn’t need to be told twice. Grabbing his daughter, he took off running down the narrow alley. 

They had made it almost halfway back to the Black Swan when he stopped to catch his breath. He looked down at his daughter and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Getting down on one knee he began to look her over.

“Are you alright?” He asked. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. I’m fine.” 

Ren nodded. That would have to do. For now, at least.

Together, father and daughter ran the rest of the way back to the Black Swan. When finally they arrived at the back entrance, the adrenaline seemed to leave Ren all at once, leaving him drained. He sank onto one of the large crates nearby, placing his head in his hands as the reality of what almost happened hit him like a druffalo. 

Esana stood there nervously, sensing, perhaps, that she had crossed a line somewhere. 

“Papa, I’m-“

Ren cut her off. 

“Esana,” he began, frustration filling the void where fear and adrenaline once were, “How many times have I told you that you cannot go out at night on your own?”

“I was just-“

“And yet, you continue to deliberately disobey me. And for what? A handful of coin?”

“It wasn’t just a handful…” she muttered. 

Something inside Ren snapped.

“HE COULD HAVE TAKEN YOU!” Ren shouted as he gripped his daughter’s shoulders desperately. “PAWNED YOU OFF AT THE SLAVE MARKET! OR WORSE, HE COULD HAVE KILLED YOU! DUMPED YOUR BODY SOMEWHERE AND I WOULD HAVE BEEN NONE THE WISER. WOULD THE COIN HAVE BEEN WORTH IT THEN? WELL?”

Hot, angry tears streamed down Esana’s face as she pulled herself out of her father’s grip and ran into the tavern. Ren tried to grab her but she was too quick.

“Esana!” He yelled. “Esana get back here!”

Instead, he heard the sound of a door slamming from upstairs, where the guest rooms were. He looked around the tavern and noticed that it was mostly empty, save for a few stragglers who seemed too deep into their cups to notice the elven family drama going on around them. He also noticed a distinct lack of Venatori. They must have left earlier as well. 

Shit.

With a sigh, Ren felt all of the previous anger bleed out of him, leaving him bone-tired. With great effort, Ren dragged himself to the bar, rubbing at his eyes before anyone could see the moisture in them. 

“Julius,” he called, “Can I have another glass of water, please?”

The barkeep popped out from the kitchen, a bowl of something heavenly smelling in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other.

“I’ll do you one better.” He said, setting the bowl, some sort of stew, in front of Ren. “Here, eat. You look like you’re about to keel over where you stand.”

“Julius, you are a gentleman and a scholar.”

“Yes, yes. Tell me something I don’t know.”

Ren took a few spoonfuls before his appetite left him entirely as the monster currently gnawing at his stomach felt more akin to guilt than hunger. He stirred the soup in lazy circles with his spoon, occasionally making a half-hearted attempt at taking a bite before giving up entirely. 

“I need to go talk to Esana.” He said with a sigh.

“Rook, wait…”

Ren looked up and was surprised to see the old barkeep looking at him with eyes full of understanding… and a bit of sorrow.

“I don’t usually tell people this for obvious reasons, but… my father was also a freeman.” He said. “And an elf, too.”

Ren’s eyes widened. A lot of things about Julius suddenly made sense. The slight build, the bright eyes…

The easiness in which he accepted Ren and Esana… 

He looked at the man in a whole new light then, silently wondering how he never noticed the way Julius’s ears tapered to a point, a tell-tale sign of the man’s heritage.

“I’ll be.” Ren exclaimed. “I’d had no idea I was in the presence of a fellow knife-ear. I’ll make you a flower crown. Maybe even show you some of my favorite places to frolic naked in the moonlight.”

“I am quite capable of going to a whore house on my own, thank you.”

Both men burst into laughter, loud enough in the almost empty tavern to draw the attention of the last remaining guests. The confused stares sobered both men up fairly quickly, and Julius continued whatever point he was getting at.

“Before I was born,” he said, “my father had somehow managed to buy his and my mother’s freedom. Never did quite figure out how he managed to pull it off...”

Julius’s eyes grew distant as he stared at something only he could see. After a moment, he blinked, and turned his attention back to Ren. In all the years he had known the man, Ren had never seen an expression so solemn on his face as he did now.

“When I was Esana’s age, I also never… appreciated the sacrifices my father had made for my family. For me... And Maker, there were so many…”

“And you do now?” Ren asked.

“Aye.” Said Julius. “I do now. Very much so. And I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but Esana will too.”

Ren considered the older man’s words as he took a few more bites of his stew. He pushed himself off of the counter and dusted himself off. 

“Thank you, Julius.” He said. “For everything.”

“Anytime, Rook.“

Ren made his way up the stairs and down the hall to where he and Esana were staying. As quietly as he could, he crept in, closing the door behind him. 

They were fortunate enough to stay in a room with two cots this time, an upgrade to their usual fair. He noticed that the cot on the left was occupied by a relatively Esana sized lump buried underneath the blankets. On the desk , underneath an open window, was a rook. It sat atop a wooden perch as it cleaned its feathers with its long, grey beak. 

Hearing the door close, it looked up and flew over to where Ren sat on the empty cot, silently landing on his knee.

“Hey, Hope.” He uttered.

“…Why is your doublet singed?” Was the spirit’s response.

“Good to see you too.”

“Renan…”

Ren looked down at his doublet, his favorite one too, and, sure enough, he noticed singe marks all long the bottom hem. 

And lo, did the Maker say “Fuck this Elf in particular.” He thought.

“I suppose it does not matter. I am sure it can be fixed.” Hope said kindly. Then, through the bond, he heard: ‘Esana was very upset, but she would not tell me what happened.’

‘She decided to pick fights with grown men and then I lost my temper and yelled at her.’

‘Ah. I see.’

Hope climbed up Ren’s arm to perch on his shoulder.

“I think I am going to go out.” She announced. “Stretch my wings for a bit.”

“Have fun.”

Hope rubbed up against his cheek affectionately, nuzzling him much like she had when he was a boy, newly arrived in the Tevinter Imperium and being sold off like chattel.

‘You can fix this.’ He heard her say through the bond. 

With that, Hope flew out the open window and into the warm summer’s night, leaving father and daughter alone to talk. After a minute or two of sitting silently in the dark, Ren spoke.

“I know you’re awake, Esana.” He said. “Can we talk? Please?”

A loud sniffle from underneath the covers was the only response he got. With a sigh, Ren pulled off his boots and set them neatly by his bedside table.

“It’s ok, Esana. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” He said as he took off his now singed doublet. “I’ll talk then, ok?”

Ren took a moment to gather his thoughts. He stared down at his hands, looking at the small knicks and callouses from years of playing the lute. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, and let the loose sleeves reveal old scar tissue across his wrists from where too-heavy shackles had rubbed his skin raw years ago. They certainly weren’t pretty, which was part of the reason why he always covered them, but they weren’t the worst of his scars. He knew his back was a gnarled web of lash marks, fifty in total. They still ached from time to time, too…

He made a vow, long ago, that the Imperium would never hurt him, or his loved ones, ever again. And he intended to keep that promise.

“I love you, Esana.” He said, finally. “And I am very sorry that I yelled at you like I did. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

In the darkness, Ren saw two bright blue eyes (her mother’s eyes, he thought distantly) peek out from underneath the covers, watching him warily. Taking that as progress, he continued.

“The truth is, I was scared. What you did was incredibly dangerous. I truly thought that man was going to hurt you, and that terrified me.”

Esana crawled out from underneath the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over and refusing to look anywhere but her bare feet. Ren noticed that she was already in her nightgown. She must have changed after she stormed upstairs. 

With a small smile, Ren patted the empty space beside him in invitation. Esana quickly crossed the short distance to sit with her father, but still refused to look up at him, even after he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to his side. 

“I just wanted to help.” She said miserably, swiping at her eyes as fresh tears  began to fall. “I thought that if I could earn money like you do, then you would let me join you for once.” 

“Esana…”

“I just wanted to be like you. I’m tired of being treated like a baby.”

Ren tucked an errant lock of red hair behind his daughter’s ear. 

“Esana,” he said, “I don’t need you to be like me. In fact, that’s the last thing in the world I want you to be. And while I appreciate the help, I’m your father. It’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around.” 

“But I want to help!” Esana cried, almost desperately. “I want to be out there, with you!”

Ren chewed his bottom lip as he pondered Esana’s words. He certainly did not want to expose her to the drunks of Minrathous, but he also knew that soon she would be turning thirteen. Too old to stay willingly cloistered away. Maybe he could bring her along every now and then, introduce her little by little to his world in a way where he could monitor her and keep her safe, rather than having her go out behind his back…

Still, he couldn’t help but feel he was missing something. Something important. There was a frantic edge to Esana’s pleading that Ren couldn’t understand. Not for the first time, Ren wished his wife were still alive. Leena would have known what to do. She was good at that sort of thing.

“I’ll tell you what,” Ren began, cupping his daughter’s chin gently, “how about I teach you how to play that spare flute I have? Then, you could play with me. Sometimes.”

Esana stared up at her father with wide, disbelieving eyes. 

“Sometimes!” He reiterated. “Only the jobs that I think are safe, ok?”

“Really?” she asked, excitement and a strange tinge of something akin to relief shining in her eyes.

“Yes.” Ren laughed. “Really.”

Esana launched herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug which he returned without a thought. 

“I love you, papa.” She said.

“I love you, too, Esana.”

Not long after Ren noticed his daughter’s eyelids grow heavy and her shoulders begin to droop. He chuckled as he watched her try to stifle a yawn.

“Alright little Nuglette, I think that’s enough excitement for one day. To bed with you.” 

“Ok, papa.” Esana murmured sleepily as she crawled back into her own cot. Suddenly, that frantic edge that Ren noticed earlier returned.

“Papa…” she said, “Could I stay in your cot? Until I fall asleep?”

“Sure.” Ren said with a small smile.

Esana quickly scurried from her cot to join her father. She snuggled herself up against him, and he felt her relax as if she had been holding in some sort of tension. 

“Esana,” Ren asked as she tucked herself in the crook of his arm, “Is everything alright?”

Esana hastily nodded, not quite looking her father in the eye. Ren sighed.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

Another nod. 

“Ok. Good night, Esana. Sweet dreams.”

Ren didn’t notice Esana wince at the mention of dreams. He didn’t notice his daughter squeeze her eyes shut, desperately trying not to think of the monsters in her dreams that hounded her, begging her to let them in. 

Instead Ren began to sing softly, voice barely above a whisper as he sang an old Elvish lullaby, one that his own mother sang to him when he was little. It didn’t take long for Esana to drift off into the Fade. No nightmares plagued her this time, safe as she was in her father’s arms and a song promising only pleasant things echoing in her ears. 

For Ren, however, sleep evaded him despite his exhaustion. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t mind and was content to watch the rise and fall of Esana’s chest as his daughter slept soundly, snuggled up against him. Truth be told, he cherished moments such as these because he knew that sooner rather than later, his daughter would grow too old to cuddle with her papa. For now, though, he placed a kiss upon his little girl’s brow and held her as tightly as he could without waking her.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, only that it was near dawn when Hope flew in through the window, the first rays of light gently reflecting off of her feathers, giving them a purplish hue. 

“Morning, Hope.” Whispered Ren as he watched her land on the bedside table. 

“Good morning, Renan.” She whispered back. “I am happy to see you two worked it out.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Ren shifted slightly to face his friend. “You were gone an awfully long time. Did something happen?”

“I ran into Neve Gallius. She would like you to meet her later this evening.” 

“Ah… and what did our favorite Ice Queen want? Did she say?”

“Only that she would like to introduce you to an aquantence of hers. Some sort of… novelist?”

“Of course she does…” Ren murmured tiredly, not really paying attention. 

They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the silence of the early morning. Ren was just about to finally drift off to sleep when Hope looked up from where she was preening her feathers and stared out of the window with an unusually concerned expression.

“Renan…” she whispered, so quietly Ren barely heard her. 

“Mmm?”

“There is a storm coming.” Was all she said.

-

Little did Ren know, as he later found himself staring up at the terrifying visages of his Dalish mother's myths, how true those words were about to become. 

[pushing500]

Hey sorry if you get this a lot but what mod pack or mods do you use for rimworld?

No need to apologise! I'm always happy to chat about my vast, laptop-igniting modlist 😁

I'm afraid I'm not great at figuring out tech stuff, so I don't know how to export the modlist properly. However, I have typed out every mod individually (along with brief and probably extremely unhelpful descriptions) right here!

It's also linked at the bottom of my pinned post if you'd prefer to find it that way <3

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Happy birthday Mushitarou!

The sad silly green man is one of the absolute best and also one of the most criminally underrated characters in all of BSD. I don’t have any fics or anything for him today (EVENTUALLY... eventually....), but I’ll share some headcanons for him (+others) that I have 💚 (part headcanons/part analysis tbh)

Under the cut cause uhhhh this got a lot longer than I expected it would ahaha, smh:

While I don’t think he had any particular falling-out with his family, I think Mushi is naturally isolated from them, and only became more closed off after his father died, someone whom he was especially close to and who shaped him into the good person that he is. He was lonely growing up in school, and Yokomizo was as well, even though it didn’t seem that way on the surface due to the latter being much more outgoing and extroverted; neither of them had anyone who truly understood and engaged with their interests (especially not Mushi after the loss of his father). Yokomizo was also estranged from his relatives, even more so after he became obsessed with writing, so he and Mushi became as close as family after enough time had passed – they really were all each other had, in so many ways.

Mushi already visited Yokomizo frequently enough as it is, without much else to do in his life, but began coming to see him even more often after he was told about Yokomizo’s terminal illness/given the request to kill him. Despite Yokomizo’s desire to finish his novel before his health deteriorated enough to be noticeable, he was unable to do so, and as time wore on, Mushi began to worry that something would happen to Yokomizo without anyone there to help, and took it upon himself to take care of him. Yokomizo’s urgency to finish his writing became more desperate, yet Mushi tried to keep him from pushing himself, which somewhat worked – there was an unspoken understanding that both were trying to put off the inevitable; for Mushi, it was out of utter denial of losing him and of what he’d have to do, and for Yokomizo, it was out of a sorrowful desire to spend as much time with Mushi as he still could, and guilt for the tremendously selfish and cruel thing he was ultimately asking of him, even as both of these emotions fought with his stubborn desire to go out the way he wanted to.

Mushi’s façade of hatred towards Yokomizo after killing him, although mostly a coping mechanism to distance himself from him and his grief, is not entirely without basis: a small part of him did want to genuinely hate Yokomizo for forcing this upon him, though ultimately a much larger part of him simply hated himself for doing something so unspeakable to the person he called his friend, even if it was asked of him.

Yokomizo, however, wanted Mushi to hate him over all, even if he never said this outright. The months leading up to his death were filled with worry for his friend, for the person who was essentially like a younger family member to him (not exactly a little brother, but… something akin to that. Although they’re probably around the same age, I feel like Yokomizo was more mature (not in every way though of course), and was protective over Mushi in a lot of ways); he knew Mushi very well, and he knew that Mushi would not cope well with his death at all, let alone what he was asking of him – he already wasn’t coping well. Mushi always had walls up and pretended to be arrogant, pretended to be selfish and not care about anyone but himself, but Yokomizo was the one person he was comfortable around, and he had long since practically become home for him: although their time together was never anything extravagant, he was able to bring him out of his shell, and force him to do and think about things he never would have otherwise, giving them both a happiness they each would have never otherwise known for so many years. But then that fragile peace they had together, that safety net, was being cruelly ripped away from them both, and the thought that Mushi would go back to being lonely, closed-off, and isolated after he was gone, drowning in his grief and with no one else to support him anymore, was more devastating to Yokomizo than even the fact that he was dying. As cruel and selfish as asking Mushi to kill him for his perfect crime was, I think a part of him felt it would be even crueler to force Mushi to watch him slowly wither away from illness (and he, too, dreaded and was terrified of having to go out like that, after so much drawn-out pain), and he selfishly hoped that Mushi’s hatred of him for forcing this upon him would overcome his grief, and the inevitable self-loathing he would have – yes, Mushi could hate him, needed to hate him, anything to keep him from hating himself. Of course, Yokomizo knew that wouldn’t happen, because Mushi was far too kind, far too caring, and far too selfless – anyone who would do so much for him for so many years as he had, especially after he became ill, and would willingly agree to go as far as to essentially euthanize him for his selfish final dream, no matter how much all of it hurt him, was truly the greatest friend anyone could ask for. Mushi was and is a beautifully selfless person, but he himself could never see it – only Yokomizo could, and so he knew exactly how he would respond, and worried about him immensely because of it. And that worry made him want to try to distance himself from Mushi as much as possible, to die as soon as possible, even, so it wouldn’t be even harder on him than it already would be… but in the end what won over that was his desire to make as many happy memories with him as possible in those final months, so they could somehow try to forget about what was coming, if only briefly; so that Yokomizo could, maybe, somehow, in some small way, believe that Mushi would be okay in the end after he was gone. :’ )

Continuing this, as part of those memories, I headcanon Yokomizo liked to dance with Mushi a lot, since there’s some art of them doing that 💚 Mushi also took Yokomizo out to various quiet place, like to see fireworks or the beach. He canonically doesn’t like the smell of the salty sea air (why? I have no clue), but I hc Yokomizo loved the sea, so Mushi went with him there at least once oops my Yokomizo Oda similarity headcanons are showing-

Yokomizo wanted Mushi to be happy, but it also worried him that his friend clearly bottled everything up and never allowed himself to cry, either. So seeing him cry in his last moments was a huge weight off his shoulders, and was somehow what ultimately convinced him that Mushi would one day be okay again. :’ )

At some point, probably multiple times, Mushi and Yokomizo had a discussion where Mushi tried to make sure that Yokomizo truly, sincerely wanted him to do what he was asking of him. Around and around, trying to talk him out of it, insisting that he hadn’t truly thought it through, but Yokomizo was always gently steadfast. After they settled on strangulation (poison, aside from being ruled out for the sake of the reader, was not what Yokomizo preferred when his body was already painfully killing itself from the inside), Mushi tried to suggest that he be given a strong sleeping pill/sedative before being killed so that he wouldn’t feel it, but Yokomizo insisted against it, as it would imply sympathy on the part of the killer, which couldn’t happen. His sickly state, although it wasn’t yet public while he was still alive, would already suggest a mercy killing and was putting the plan/general reception at risk enough as it was. </3

After killing Yokomizo, Mushi handled his body ever-so-delicately, tenderly, almost reverently, just as he had many times before while carrying him, as he strung him up the way he was instructed, and even as he cut off his ears. He took his time doing it, wanting to hold his friend close and memorize what he looked like for as long as he possibly could in these final moments, even though he felt like his hands didn’t have the right to touch him anymore. Then, after everything was in place and he’d fled the premises with the manuscript, he promptly threw up somewhere. :’ )

Yokomizo was the second person to give him the nickname “Mushi”, after Mushi’s father. No one else ever calls him that now; it’s a name reserved only for them.

Mushi struggles while trying to write at Poe’s mansion out of a feeling of inferiority compared to Yokomizo; writing and mysteries were never his passion, they were Yokomizo’s, and he was just indulging the latter’s hobbies. He has no right to claim the role of writer for himself, not now that he’s gone and when he was only ever in it for Yokomizo to begin with… and there’s no possible way he can ever create anything good or original, when they’d already talked at length about how everything in the mystery genre had already been done, and Yokomizo himself created the ultimate mystery that no one could ever possible top, least of all him.

But Poe knows that what he writes doesn’t need to be perfect or even good; Mushi only needs to do it as a form of therapy for himself, because it will bring him closer to his deceased friend, since mysteries are what they enjoyed most when he was alive. (and I honestly think Poe would understand and empathize Mushi very well, having been so isolated and lonely in the past himself before Ranpo essentially saved him just as Yokomizo did for him) Once he’s able to convey that to him, it gradually comes more naturally to Mushi and becomes comforting for him as Poe intended. 💚

Mushi forms a reluctant friendship with Karl over the course of his stay with Poe (inspired by this person’s art series of them together 🥹). It starts with Karl trying to help the first time Mushi has a nightmare there, and after that he starts bothering him/trying to get his attention in general, until Mushi slowly gives in, becoming begrudgingly fond of the little creature. Whenever he’s having a hard time, whether it be a nightmare or a panic attack or just listlessness, Karl is usually there for him, as his own personal therapy raccoon. 💚

To add to that, Mushi canonically dislikes thunder; I headcanon that when they were together during storms, Yokomizo always made sure to be even more chatty than usual, to distract Mushi from his fear of the noise. Once he’s at Poe’s mansion, when it storms, he suddenly realizes how much louder and scarier the thunder feels now… but of course he doesn’t let it show. Karl, however, notices his discomfort, and is there for him during storms now. :’ )

Post-series, in general, Mushi always brings treats for Karl whenever he meets up with Poe again. 💚

A headcanon plenty of people have, but Ango is absolutely crucial to Mushi’s journey of healing. Post-series, they have quite a few talks about their respective situations, and Ango is the one person Mushi ultimately (after enough time, of course) bears the most of his soul and his pain to, because Ango can empathize with him and understand his guilt/self-loathing/sorrow in a way none of the others can. Earlier on, Ango checks on Mushi the most (Ranpo and Poe do too though) to make sure that he’s taking care of himself, just like he occasionally does/did with Dazai.

Mushi starts wearing traditional clothes more often after Yokomizo’s death, including a few old things that used to belong to him, that are comforting to Mushi.

There aren’t many public photos of Yokomizo, since he was a rather private author. There is, however, only one single personal photo of him, one he roped a grumpy Mushi into taking with him once, his own expression being as sunshine-y and exuberant as always in contrast. Mushi cherishes it now :’ ) oops the buraiha trio vibes strike again

Because of his period of dealing with Yokomizo’s terminal illness, Mushi has some medical-related knowledge that the average person probably wouldn’t. It isn’t the kind of thing he wants to dwell on after Yokomizo’s death, and he can’t stand being around hospitals, for obvious reasons, but regardless, whether he’s consciously aware of it or not, he is especially compassionate/understanding towards those who are sick and disabled that he encounters. His time with Yokomizo has given him perspectives and philosophies about life that he wouldn’t otherwise have, and when he’s not trying to write strictly mysteries, it’s the sort of things that are evident in his writing. In a way, writing about it in general is healing for him, separate from mysteries being comforting to him solely because they’re associated with Yokomizo.

At some point, Mushi starts visiting Yokomizo’s grave together with Ango, Poe, and Ranpo, or sometimes just Ango. Similarly, he, Poe and Ranpo join Ango in visiting Oda’s grave. He and Ango each tell stories about their respective lost loved ones, so that more people will learn about and remember who they once were. 💚

With his ability, Ango is able to read the memories within the room Yokomizo was living in (or perhaps in objects Mushi owns), and see numerous happy memories he had with Mushi, long before his illness and death. With what he sees and conveys, Poe is able to write a small story of the memory, which he then gives to Mushi, allowing him to go into the story and relive the memory and see Yokomizo again for the first time in years. It’s not the real Yokomizo, and Mushi knows this – he’s long since stopped seeing the hallucination of him, because he’s healed enough by this point. But even so, just knowing that the book is there, that he can see his friend moving and talking again whenever he wishes – a version of Yokomizo that is just as happy and bright and energetic as he always remembered, without suffering from illness – is the greatest gift and kindness he could ever imagine receiving, and from his new friends no less, and it’s enough to make him cry, from how loved he truly is :’ ) 💚

I love Mushitarou sooooo much, and I truly hope he gets more attention in the future (can’t wait for tomorrow’s episode!!), because his story is so touching and his character so relatable and comforting 🥹 and I sincerely hope he finds his ultimate happiness in the manga one day. Happy birthday, you sweet, sentimental, pathetic (affectionate), goofy little gremlin man 💚

[batcastlesociety]

flowers :) 🌸

[yellowocaballero]

DONE DONE DONE with the latest motherfucking behemoth. I still have to write the epilogue and fill in a few gaps, but the newest monstrosity will be published early next week!

It's not the longest work in the Trigun tag but it's certainly up there.

[wish-i-had-robin-wings]

I’m fascinated about the oc stuff you mentioned! I only recently (within the last year) started creating oc’s so I’ve not really thought about creating images of them. I pretty much just save stock photos and photos of celebrities that resemble what I’m imagining, but that can be a pain. I’d love to hear more tips (as well as hearing about some of your oc’s if you’d like to share!)

A beloved mutual, hello!!

It's cool to hear that you're getting into oc stuff, making up little guys is so much fun! You'll have to tell me about yours sometime! I gotta admit though, saving stock and celebrity photos sounds like a hassle :/ I can't imagine what you'd do for a non-human oc…

If you're interested, I have a ton of picrew links I can share (and obviously I can give you ones with more specific aesthetics if you have something in mind, versus just dumping a truckload of random links on you).

I also really like using Heroforge (D&D Minifugre website) to make ocs (D&D related or not). They update pretty regularly so there's always better options (especially for non-human ocs) and colors for more specific customizations. It's especially cool because if you decide you really like it, you can buy your oc as a minifigure (but you can still use the site/save your oc even without buying anything)! I love free websites :3

Lately, I've been focusing on my batch of Minecraft ocs. I was supposed to join a big rp server, but that fell apart so now I'm just 'writing' it all myself. It's been really fun, and I like being able to build an intricate story and characters from a pre-set template that comes with making ocs within a pre-existing world/ruleset (It's just much easier on my busy brain for when I'm not working on my actual original writing or whatever XP). But because of this, I've also been making full Minecraft skins for those ocs. It's pretty much just pixel art, and I am nowhere near the levels of some of the proffesional skin-makers out there, but I've made some pretty cool stuff if I do say so myself!

TL;DR I am not good at art, but my imagination is very hyperactive, so having some of these online resources has helped a ton in just getting something out into the world. I am more than happy to share site links and answer any questions you have about navigating them if you wanna dm me! I'd also loove to talk about all my ocs more, but I know that can be a lot for a tumblr ask…especially if tumblr keeps eating them >:(

Thanks for messaging me, hope this helped some!

(Also, sorry for the weird formatting of this post tumblr is being dumb and I can't fix it for some reason...)

[constellationcrowned]

✦ :o ?

Positivity meme

((I already said as much in the comments of the post you made earlier but if you ask me it all bears repeating (plus extra) so! I think you're a wonderfully dedicated and enthusiastic writer who not only appreciates the characters they write but you also expand on them (to say nothing of the lore in general) in a really fresh, unique way that only showcases just how much you love and respect the work put into cotl. Your drive and inspiration is so clear and tangible it's honestly impossible to ignore and the rpc on the whole needs more people who're so dedicated and passionate. I especially love your willingness to go in-depth in regards to motifs, themes, and so on, including the incredibly niche stuff. You don't shy away from anything and on top of that you're more than willing to explain your point of view in both a thorough and an accessible way which makes it really easy for people to get involved and interact regardless if they've played the game or not.

I initially played the game on launch---legit day one---and got pulled away for one reason or another but since coming across your blog not only am I reminded that I love the game and its characters I also miss playing it something fierce and because of you I'm excited to pick it back up again. And maybe---just maybe---add a muse over on my alt, we'll see.

I look forward to getting to know you and writing with you in the future and (hopefully) the work I do on this blog specifically will inspire and entice you just as much as you've inspired and enticed me. I know we'll have fun together no matter what at the very least.))

[spectrearia]

hhh found some photos of old disney trips from several years back and it just made me really sad that the parks are nothing like what they were back then anymore. i still feel like it was probably best in the 90s and early 2000s (from what i've seen in videos documenting that time frame, and from the few trips my fam went on as well), but i ended up visiting more often in the 2010s and i still really enjoyed it;;

i miss walking around and just drinking in the atmosphere and theming honestly. sucks that its a mess now and you're paying so dang much for lackluster quality and there's no room for spontaneous flexibility within your visit because of the stupid genie+ app and insane wait times for Everything. the fact that there's no real "off season" anymore because it's Always Busy is a terrible reality as well. *sigh*

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 7: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

The winning option of yesterday's poll was that the adventurer should go on a 5 day journey to find the Innkeeper's weird brother who studies animals, and show him the Suspicious Egg….

~

The next morning he wakes early, buzzing with renewed purpose, and also minor back pain from sleeping on old potato sacks.. After a meager breakfast of more free leftover scraps, the Innkeeper stops him before he leaves, giving him a few extra supplies for the long journey, as she can tell he doesn't have much. He packs up and sets out onto the road once again, crumpled sketchy map in hand...

He has a fairly uneventful journey for the first day - waving at the occasional other travelers as they pass, cleaning his boots in a nearby pond, stopping to eat some dumplings whilst watching the sunset, and finally setting up a small tent a short ways off the main path, resting with his cat by a dim campfire until they both fall asleep......

The second day, however, does not start as smoothly.. Only a few hours further down the road, he's met with a large barricade, guarded by a group of what seems like elven soldiers from one of the larger surrounding cities of the area. Practicing his confidence, he puts on his best "brave face" (which to others, appears more as some sort of pained wince, like he might have something in his eye), shakily striding right up to the authority figures he is definitely not afraid of.

"Halt, traveler! You cannot pass."

He sways slightly, struggling to keep his wobbly legs under control, "OH, y-yEAH, ssorry, I was-, hh, I was just walking, ~o-out for a stroooll~, haha, so I .. uh.. o-okay. That's.. okay. But, uh.. could, can.. euh.. C-can I ask why? like... why the, uh... blocking off.. of ... the um.. the-"

"Unfortunately, we are not at liberty to disclose any information on the nature of this current road closure. Our sole duty is to maintain security of the barrier."

"hhHeh, ye.. eAh, for sure, I-I get that.. Duty is.. really so... important in ... today's world.. gotta, um.. do the duties.. or, uh.. .. yeah, but.. so, uhhh... wh-Do you know.. maybe, uh... H-how long you'll, like... be here? guarding... and such...??"

"We'll be here as long as we need to be here."

"...O-okay.. but, like.. uh... any,,.... time estimate? hahahehhh?? like, uh.. a day, or... two, or um...??"

"This matter does not concern you, traveler. Move along."

"Aoh, yeahgh, I.. totally.. totally.. it, uh.. Well.. but it kind of does though,, right? B-because I do, in fact, actually have to go down that road at some p-point sssoo, um,... uh.. I-"

"I said move along."

The guard abruptly takes a step forward, causing The Adventurer to yelp as if he'd been hit, tripping over his own feet and scrambling off on hands and knees, lunging into bushes near the rocky roadside.. After exchanging a confused glance, the guards both shrug, resuming their stoic positions at the barrier.

The Adventurer watches from the uncomfortable safety of some berry brambles, surveying the area at a distance and desperately trying to work out how he can still get where he's trying to go. The map given to him by the Innkeeper is pretty straightforward, not showing alternate paths. Based on his primary map, he could maybe think of a few detours, but he's anxiously unfamiliar with the area... How should he proceed?

----

Additional Details - (I decided whenever he gets new items or goals or something, I'll list them at the end just to keep track)

items + to inventory (from the Innkeeper): 2 lunchboxes of vegetable dumplings, 2 canteens of water, a box of tea, one rope, 1 pouch of dried meat, 4 candles, a hand-drawn map

main goal: get to the abandoned castle ruins to see the rare animal specialist about the egg

[aimsey-updates]

hello gamers! if anyone would like to draw/design a pfp or header for us aimsey updates blog that would be super cool! I want to change them every month or so and it would be epic to showcase the community- so if you make any Aimsey art&co feel free to tag us yeah? (credit of course will be given)

[thotsfortherapy]

y'all our foster cat of 4 months is getting adopted 😭😭 she's been with us the longest out of all our foster cats so it is def bittersweet to see her go :')