#ice plant barbarian

[maepolzine]

Looking Back at the Books I Read in February 2023

Sharing all the books I've read, started, and re-read during the month of February.

[cinderaudio]

I'm really reading this book. Romance books science fiction book series. By ruby Dixon.

D++k pussy and Dick Hot sauce and.

[mommy-without-milkers]

My bf bought me some books.. he buys audio versions of all the books I read so we can read him together so bless this man for the ride were about to go on

[shalanos]

i am 12 books into the ice plant barbarians series and I still eat up every single book it never gets old and I never dislike anything in the books and idk what that says about me as a person

[simonsquest]

Tagged by @the-crow-binary - thank you! Favourite color: Very dark navy blue.

Last song: Hell Above - Pierce the Veil

Currently reading: Re-reading my own fanfic again and again to inform consistency and proper pacing for the later chapters I’m still writing… @_@ it’s madness at this point lol. Aside from that, I recently read a few issues of Conan the Barbarian. Less for the content itself, but larger for anatomy reference for Simon.

Currently watching: I’ve been watching people play and review Castlevania romhacks, specifically for Castlevania 1 and 2. I’ve also spent the last few days watching video essays and cut content videos about the Classicvanias.

Currently craving: There is this pastry I really like from a local plant-based bakery. It’s a monstrosity of a croissant because it’s also a chocolate chip cookie. It’s absurdly sweet, soft, and delicious.

Coffee or tea: Coffee all the way. An iced americano with a little oat milk is my go-to. :)

A hobby I’d like to try: I want to get back into going to the gym consistently, or try rollerblading again. I stopped swimming weekly as well. I need to get back to it. Apart from that, I've always wanted to learn an instrument.

An AU you’ve been plotting: I keep thinking of these really silly modern ficlet scenarios for Simon lol. Thank you so much for tagging me, Crow! (And I’m so appreciative that you and others in the fandom wrote that you're currently reading TRFSB, thank you all so very much! It really made my day to see that. Q_Q)

I tag: @maria-renard-kin, @wingedknightrose, @chexburger, @batcastlesociety, and @innocentdevilmaster ! No pressure. :) Though of course anyone who sees this is welcome to answer, even if not directly mentioned! I’m looking forward to reading all of your answers if you choose to fill it out. :)

[devilsrecreation]

Outlander drawing prompts I got from Wannadraw

- Jasiri gardening

or as Deadpool

or as a model

- Madoa as a warlock

or as a popstar

or steampunk

- Janja drawing a picture of himself

or chibi style

or as a popstar

- Chungu as an evil queen (king)

or wearing an outfit made of flowers

or as an artificer

- Cheezi made of cheese (hehe…CHEESE-i)

or playing with fireworks

or skydiving

- Nne riding a dragon into combat (a komodo dragon lol)

as a demon

or as a puppet

- Tano adopting 50+ cats (bonus if they’re all disney cats)

or dancing in a music video

or as a bard

- Mzingo chibi style

or as a cowboy

or if he was one of the mean girls

- Mwoga as a lego character

or going to prom

or as a ranger

- Reirei as a bard

or rocking a ballgown

or at the Olympics

- Goigoi going to highschool (new au??)

or on Valentine’s Day

or traveling the desert

- Dogo if he was a disney prince

or sporting a giant anime sword

or as a superhero (SUPER JACKAL)

- Kiburi wearing 50’s clothing

or dressed like Nicki Minaj (WHEEZE)

or gardening

- Tamka as a model

or drawn in hayao miyazaki’s style

or on Valentine’s Day

- Nduli as a barbarian

or flying on a magic carpet

or as a Mortal Combat character

- Neema as a rogue

or running from a bear

or surfing

- Shupavu as a llama

or as a druid

or as a character from your fav video game

- Njano as a plant person

or as a wizard

or stranded on an island

- Kenge as a druid

or as a pirate (PIRATE AU?????)

or made of cheese

- Sumu going to a Ren faire

or stranded on an island

or as a ballerina

- Ushari climbing a tree

or drop dead gorgeous

or wearing a bikini (ig as a human-)

Bonus: Vitani’s guard

- Vitani falling in love with an ice cream

- Shabaha as a warlock

- Kasi cooking

- Imara in Lady Gaga’s clothes (bonus if she wears her meat dress)

- Tazama as a character from your favorite video game

Double bonus: Makuu and Hodari

- Makuu if he was two inches tall

or in a Halloween costume

or as an angel

- Hodari at comicon

or as a paladin

or wearing an outfit made of flowers

[llliiinnnaaa]

Reprisal | Chapter Two

coriolanus snow x gaul oc

Summary: Ten years after the Tenth Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow is under Dr. Volumnia Gaul’s wing as a Gamemaker alongside her niece. Unbeknownst to either of them, they’re both being prepared for a much greater task.

Warning: This story will contain explicit violence against adults and children alike (I mean, it’s Dr. Gaul AND Snow) as well as explicit language, and sexual situations.

***This fic is in no way, shape, or form, me endorsing or co-signing the horrific shit Snow does, nor am I trying to romanticize it. Also, apathy and will be the main driving force of any remnants of a relationship between my OC and Snow’s character. So if you’re interested in something very romantic and fluffy…it’s not gonna be this.

I hope you enjoy, thanks for reading

     Ice blue eyes glance over the sheet of scribbles, each line of writing numbered. 

“Why would we allow them to take weapons into the arena when weapons are already provided?” He questions, raising his brows in anticipation for the thoughtless response that’s a stuttering, “W-Well…” from Philo Marius as he struggles to keep up with the Gamemaker’s stride. 

The young man was five years Coriolanus’ junior, having been assigned as his apprentice.

Gaul had to have been punishing them both for some unknown misdemeanor. 

“The more weapons one has, the greater their chance of survival.” Philo suggests, hopefully. 

Snow takes in a deep breath, his knuckles itching with irritation at the answer while Philo adds, “I mean, we don’t want them to survive. We want them to maim one another to the death. Any victor left after the fact is merely fortunate enough to have grown the gal to defend themselves, or fortunate enough to stay hidden away for long enough time,” to which Coriolanus hands him back his list of ideas. 

“We don’t arm pissed off barbarians until after they’re no longer a risk to the safety of Capitol citizens.” Snow says it as if scolding him for being so empty minded, the two of them approaching the laboratory that a familiar face is seemingly guarding. 

“Darling?” Livia questions, seeing her husband growing closer to her. 

“Is Dr. Crane occupied?” He asks her, accepting her chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Oh, she’s…gone. Abandoned her students there by themselves in the middle of an exploratory lesson.” 

“What?” He glances inside the lab, seeing the small group of students circled around a table, disguising how bothered he is by the revelation. 

“There is a cut-open mutt on the table. And she left it. With her gaggle of amateurs.” She shakes her head, disappointment lacing her quiet voice. 

“Did something happen?” He asks next, casually, to which his wife’s dark lashes bat rapidly. 

“She’s just off her rocker, Coryo. I mean…the only reason she’s still employed here is because her aunt is Dr. Gaul.” 

“Liv.” It’s her he’s scolding, now, only for her to raise a brow and state, “If I did what she does – if either of us did what she does – we’d be gone in less than a day.” 

He won’t argue with her, not here, his eyes instead going back to the group of students his wife is monitoring before he’s taking a step inside. 

“It’s a sterile environment.” Livia insists, grabbing at his hand to keep him from going. 

“What are they working on?” He nods to the Avox lying sedated on the table.

“I have no idea. That’s probably just a next door neighbor she hates.” She scoffs. 

“Or a rebel.” Philo reminds them both of his presence. 

The sound of shouting from down the hallway pulls their attention, Livia grasping his hand a little tighter as if keeping him in his place before asking, “Is that..?”trailing off at the sound of Tawny, her eyes widening. 

She has to hide the grin that wants to creep to her lips. 

There is no way she could come back after such a ruckus – especially if she’s screaming at one of her bosses. 

Coriolanus has to plant his feet on the ground, refusing to move them despite his skin growing hot and prickly at the sound of her.  

Something had to have happened to get her so upset she’d leave her students just to cause a scene, here of all places. 

He wants to go tear into her for being so unprofessional. Embarrassing herself. Embarrassing him. 

No, he doesn’t dare go see for himself. 

“Did you need her for something?” Livia asks him as the sound of Tawny’s yelling fades further away. 

“Hmm?” Snow is plucked from his thoughts, his pretty wife smiling widely. 

“You came here for a reason? I’m assuming you needed to speak with Dr. Crane about something.” She explains. 

“I was going to speak with her about one of her cases.” Or five, He wants to add as he informs her, to which she rolls her dark blue eyes. 

“I know her aunt isn’t allowed to examine her work due to potential breach of ethics, but if you have to trek all the way down here every time one of her experiments doesn’t go the way they need to –”

“ – It’s a part of my job, Livia, to collaborate with you all.” 

“Not with me .” She bitterly lets out. 

Ceres Byrne was her collaborator to keep bias to a minimum, just like Dr. Gaul couldn’t be Tawny’s, so Coriolanus was assigned to her. 

“And I still get to see you. So the trip is worth it.” He assures her smoothly, causing a blush to redden her cheeks.

“If you say so.” She nudges him as he lightly taps at the tip of her nose with his finger, turning to go. 

“I’ll be late getting home.” He adds as an afterthought. 

“I might be, too, depending on how long this all takes.” Livia replies, stopping him in his tracks as he looks at Philo, a new thought crossing his mind. 

“I’ll stay here until they finish up, you go tend to whatever else you need to do.” He offers, seeing her give him a curious expression that’s cloaked in her sweet grin. 

“Coryo, that’s not necessary.” She assures him.

“Like you said, Liv, there’s no telling how long you’ll be here. You have to be here earlier than I do in the morning. There’s no sense in you staying if you don’t have to, so you can go and I’ll wait for the gaggle of amateurs to finish or for Dr. Crane to get back.” 

“If she’s still employed at all.” She sighs out before kissing his cheek, quickly stating, “Thank you. I love you. I’ll see you at home.” 

“See you at home.” He says to her as she heads down the hall back to her office. 

Philo waits awkwardly to be dismissed, Coriolanus not paying him any mind as his own eyes focus back to the laboratory of students sewing the Avox back together. 

He never knows when a good time to even open his mouth to speak to Coriolanus is, convinced Snow despises him. 

He’s not entirely incorrect. 

“Um…I also have to be here early tomorrow, so —”

“Have a good evening, Mr. Marius.” It’s spoken quickly, without looking at him. 

“You, too, sir.” 

A few more minutes pass, Cyn glancing through the window of the lab to see Coriolanus Snow where Dr. Cardew once stood. 

“Shhhit, it’s Snow.” She hisses under her breath to her colleagues, a panicked energy beginning to bubble up. 

Snow’s reputation preceded him through every hallway of the Academy, the University, and the Citadel…every street of the Capital…more than likely every street of each District. 

His place was Dr. Gaul’s shadow. 

If she moved, he moved. 

If he found someone’s work interesting enough to garner his attention, it would garner Gaul’s, and likewise. 

He might as well be Head Gamemaker along with her. 

And he’s standing outside the lab, more than interested in what exactly they’re doing. 

“Just pretend he’s not out there.” She adds, noticing the way Atticus’ hand shakes slightly as he continues sewing up the Avox. 

“Dr. Crane is so screwed.” Bellamy says. “Leaving us in here is a new low. Now that Snow knows about it, she’s done with. We might as well prepare for a new — ”

“—What happened?” 

The breath leaves their body as Coriolanus enters, a mask covering his face, being unable to tolerate the dark he’d been left in on the situation at hand. 

No one dares to remind him it’s a sterile environment, that he shouldn’t be in here as close as he is to them, contaminating the air. 

They allow him to keep moving forward until he’s peering over the dead Avox. 

Damn it, Crane , he stops himself from gritting it between his teeth before his eyes look at Atticus who’s tying off the last of the stitches. 

“Mr. Dovecote, what happened?” His voice is patient but demanding, Atticus glancing at Cyn and Bellamy before letting out a heavy breath. 

“Dr. Crane’s husband sent for her, and was adamant, apparently. She told me to –”

“I didn’t ask why she is not accounted for.” He interrupts, sternly, Atticus nodding to himself before starting, “We had it stable last night before we left. It was fine. We came back and did an exploratory, and the liver was in failure due to too much iron in a copper-based environment.”

“What steps were taken to attempt combatting the liver failure?” Snow’s question has Cyn and Bellamy looking to one another with wide, worried eyes. 

Atticus hesitates, not wanting to get Dr. Crane in any more trouble than she surely already is in. 

Bellamy seizes her opportunity to try to get on his good side, blurting, “She just killed it. She said we needed to cut our losses and pull the plug, and that we learn by wasting.” 

“Bellamy.” Cyn sneers.

“If you want to go down with her on her aflame sinking ship, that’s your prerogative. But I’m not paying for consequences that I didn’t buy.” She replies in the same tone before looking back to Coriolanus, who waits patiently for Atticus to finish, Clemensia’s brother stripping his hands from his gloves, and plucking his mask off, before Snow says to them,“You’re all dismissed when you clean up.” 

“I’ve got to get this to the morgue.” Atticus insists, glancing at the corpse of another failure. 

“I’ll take care of it.” He says flatly.

Dr. Crane will take care of it, more so. 

Once all is back to how they left it, the younger peers leave for the night, leaving Coriolanus to himself as he waits for Tawny’s return.

After several minutes, he glances at his pocket watch, scoffing. 

He’d be later getting home tonight than he had been in months. 

It’s when he hears footsteps approaching the lab that he comes to his feet, heading to the door, only to grimace. 

“Dr. Crane.” He says to Dyess, the dark haired man searching the lab briefly in a scan of his cobalt blue eyes.

“Snow, how are you?” Dyess replies in a grin, “Have you seen my wife?” it’s asked before Coriolanus can even answer the first question. 

“No, I haven’t. I heard her down the hallway earlier.” He says, to which her husband huffs out, “Yeah, she’s um…she’s not happy at the moment…with me or Dr. Gaul. I let it slip that Gaul’s been contemplating relieving her of her duties here.”

Coriolanus has to bring faux shock to his face, having known of the matter weeks ago. 

It’s why he’d been trying to get it through Tawny’s thick skull that lollygagging as she had been doing wasn’t going to be tolerated much longer. 

“Oh.” He says to Dyess. 

“Yeah. She was happy because two of my projects got chosen for the next Games, but then I opened my big mouth and ruined everything.”

Imagine that , Coriolanus thinks to himself, his mouth starting to grow sore from hiding the frown he wants to present, getting a chance to put some of his pent up disdain for the man to good use when Dyess asks, “Were you looking for her, too?” Referring to Snow being in her lab. 

“I’m actually waiting to see her, myself. We have to talk about a few things regarding her past couple projects.”

Dyess’ lips twitch as if he, too, is hiding a clenched jaw and frown. 

Coriolanus appreciates the fact that Dyess is so easily riled, adding, “I’ll have her home at a decent time.” 

If I feel like giving her back . 

“With how she was acting earlier, you can keep her.” Dyess chuckles, Snow forcing out a chortle of his own. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Mr. Snow.” He adds, turning. “I better get home and make sure dinner is ready by the time she gets back or I’ll be sleeping here tonight.” 

“See you tomorrow.” Coriolanus states, his smile falling from his face as he glances once more at the pocket watch. 

Moving to Tawny’s office down the hall, he sits at her desk and waits for her, waiting what seems another hour before the familiar click of her heels is coming right toward the door. 

She comes to a halt as soon as she realizes his unannounced presence before turning around to walk away, harshly mumbling, “I’m not doing this tonight.” 

“Dr. Crane, we need to talk.” He calls after her, those “clicks” going quiet while he thumbs through the folder he snagged from her lab. 

The sound of her coming back brings a satisfied smirk to his lips, his blue eyes raking over her as soon as she’s in front of him. 

Her brown eyes are puffy, swollen from crying out her anger, her rage, her resentment…she shuts the door behind her.

“I’ve been wondering where you went off to.” He says, giving her the chance to explain everything in one sweep to save himself some questioning.

Only she toys with him.

“I had to change.” She replies, waiting for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. “Did you know?” She crosses her arms, finally speaking again. 

“Yeah.” He admits, not ever feeling the need to lie to her before, so why do it now? “I knew.” 

She doesn’t say anything else, now, taking in a deep breath while he continues, “I wasn’t present in the meetings, but I’ve known. It’s why I’ve been trying to throw you a bone…though I see now that you enjoy throwing them back to me.” 

“I’ve been working my ass off, Snow –”

“--You’ve been wasting resources.” He drops the folder to the table, the thud of it hitting the wood is thunderous and deliberate. “Toiling with time, money, lab space, then telling your students it’s perfectly okay to waste those resources because that somehow coincides with learning.” 

“I’ve been trying. Hell, even things I’ve pleaded for Aunt V to help me with, and she has, still end up in the morgue, or rabid, or…” She trails off in a fit of frustration, turning her back to him, unable to keep herself composed with him looking at her.

It’s an infuriating thing that she does anytime they go back and forth. 

Refusing to look at him, refusing to acknowledge him or what he’s saying…

Thirty-four year old adolescent. She’s fortunate to be receiving any help from me at all.

Taking in a breath to calm himself, he stands to his feet, easing around her desk.

His hands stay in his pockets to resist the temptation of grabbing a handful of her hair and force her to look at him.

Then her mind would certainly start roaming to matters other than her work and she would drag him with her, leaving them both spent and flushed to arrive home to their spouses. 

No, he keeps his hands to himself, even his body to himself, staying no less than two feet from her. 

Patiently, he waits for her to calm, wipe the new tears she attempts to keep quiet from him. 

It’s when she gets a hold of herself and straightens her shoulders that he asks, “Are you done?” 

“Mhmm.” She nods, turning back to face him. 

“It’s not my job to nail you to the ground for being inadequate at your job. But…it is my job to tell you when you’re insufficient. And this last year – especially the last six months – has made me and so many others question whether you deserve to be here or not…whether you want to be here or not.” He says to her emptily, knowing she’s already heard this from Gaul, but she’s hearing it again from him. 

He wants to make it as clear as he can that she can’t afford anymore losses. 

“Do you?” He asks her, watching her nod as she hoarses out a, “Yes, I do…I just…”

She just what?

“You just what?” He presses, brows dropping as he takes a step closer, damning his invisible line he drew. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” She says quietly. “I retrace my steps, I look over my notes, I compare notes my students have taken – I’ve compared notes to Aunt V’s…it’s like everything falls apart out of nowhere…no warnings, or preliminaries.” 

Apparently he’s not very good at hiding his expression in this moment, her jaw rolling as she scoffs. 

“Of course you don’t believe me.” She turns and reaches for the door but he reaches over her and slams it shut once she gets it ajar.

Her eyes close, her forehead nearly resting against the wood as the close proximity between the two of them is not lost on her. 

One of his hands lays flat above her head, the other is in his pocket but that’s no good when she feels the heat of his chest against her back, the idea of moving just a centimeter backward has her face burning red and her thighs trying not to rub together for some relief. 

It’s nothing he misses, his ego getting a good rub at the sight of her trying to keep her composure. 

She’s always the first to fold, melting in his hands, against his lips, his teeth, his tongue…

“We agreed not to do this anymore.” She reminds him quietly, keeping her eyes closed.

She doesn’t trust herself to even get a glimpse of those blue eyes that always silently coax her to her knees, greedy for anything he’s willing to give her no matter how loveless or degrading. 

That’s all it was, really. 

It started as stress relief, pent up tension between them going back and forth when she was first assigned to him, and him to her. 

Bouncing ideas off one another, him checking in on her work, offering unsolicited advice to her that she despised because more times than not, he was right.

One night they split a bottle of whiskey she had stolen from Dyess’ collection of liquors and wines while Livia was away for the weekend visiting her mother’s estate on the outskirts of the Capitol… 

At first they carried on as normal, collaborating teetering on the line of arguing, then another glass brought on the giggles.

Everything they did or said was hilarious…then more whiskey.

The speech had started slurring, the lines started blurring, and before either one of them had any grasp of themselves, they were right there in Coriolanus’ living room floor, laid on the plush rug, her hands in his hair while his tongue drew any and every cry, moan, scream, plead, and curse she had.

It meant nothing. They accepted that, they preferred that. Him especially. 

The next morning they awoke with pounding heads, and vomit-lined throats.

Then they sobered up, cleaned up, and tried to discuss what had happened, and in the midst of that discussion realized that neither of them fancied doing anything half-assed.

So the little hiccup of one night together broiled into a full fledged affair, the unspoken declaration of it being the entire Snow penthouse having bared witness to their actions. 

Her, splayed out on the dining room table, back arched her brown eyes rolled back while his fist held her throat, somewhat muffling the evidence of her peak while he’d licked  the sweat that rolled across the smooth skin of her chest before his tongue had met hers. Or in the big bathroom he shared with Livia, Tawny’s knee shoved up on the marble counter, the foot of her standing leg struggling to keep balanced on tipped-toes while he watched himself fuck her in a way he was certain Dyess Crane had never done – at least she had acted as such when she pleaded with him not to stop, telling him how good it was, her head leaned against his chest, her soft hands over his where they held her breasts. Then in his room, in his bed, grabbing her hips to guide her movements on top of him, her forehead against his, her stomach in a tight knot as she chased her high, tightening around him to the point he nearly finished in her, and she was so reckless in their moments together, so fueled by gluttonous pleasures and the feeling of him that she wouldn’t care.

She’d beg for it nearly every time.

But he couldn’t.

That was too risky.  

The idea of Dyess raising his child as his own jumped on a nerve Snow didn’t know existed. 

No, Coriolanus can’t afford to be dumb again, especially not that dumb.

After nearly a month of using one another, they had agreed to cut it out. 

They both had futures to protect, reputations to keep clean and sparkly for their professional and public appearances.

And that decision was an easy one to make because there were no feelings, no attachments. 

They didn’t miss one another, or long for one another. 

He could still be infuriated with her, or critique her without feeling guilty or obligated to sugar coat it to spare her feelings, and she could still resent his advice and roll her eyes at him when he was being too cynical. 

They still respected one another, and could control themselves.

We agreed not to do this anymore , her words repeat in his mind.

They had agreed not to do this anymore…over three weeks ago. 

She turns to face him, the corners of his mouth pulling upward. 

“We did, and then you did the thing which voided that agreement.” He reminds her, her nostrils flaring at the memory of herself on her knees, touching herself while he used her mouth as he pleased. 

“You have a wife at home to do that kind of stuff with, Snow.” She reminds him, his smile gone in the blink of an eye as he steps backward. “And I have a husband.” 

“Dyess Crane?” He mutters bitterly. 

“I wouldn’t still have a job here if not for him sticking up for me. So, yes, we agreed to stop doing this ,” She motions between the two of them, “Because he doesn’t deserve it. And, I want to push your wife off a tall building, but she seems like she doesn’t deserve it either.” 

He stopped listening after she said the words, “...if not for him sticking up for me…”, turning to look at her again.

“What?” He asks. 

“You get pissy with me for not following your advice but then outright ignore me when I’m speaking?”

“What did he do, Dr. Crane?!” His voice raises, vexed. 

“There were discussions of me being fired, and he told my aunt that if I got fired, then he would leave too.” She says to him, furrowing her brows in confusion. 

She’d assumed that was mentioned to him already by Dr. Gaul. 

He doesn’t say anything else about it, he doesn’t even show he’s still thinking about it, instead collecting the folder on her desk, handing it to her. 

“I’m going to get this last one to the morgue.” He says in reference to the Avox still in the lab. 

“Okay.” She mumbles, grasping the folder from him. 

“We’ll discuss everything tomorrow in-depth. Hopefully we can get your perpetual insufficiency sorted out before the next Games. Your career depends on it, after all.” He reminds her, grabbing his red coat and leaving her alone. 

[ryan-nugenthopkins]

📓⚔️🐉🏒⛸️

I've found a lot of enjoyment of translating skills and tropes into other media/medium/mechanics, whatever. This has led to me building out D&D character sheets for a good chunk of Edmonton and a few other players where the mood strikes me. It's less of a specific plot (I presume each team is an adventurer's guild running off and doing quests, monster of the week style) and more of a broad imagining of backstories and how everyone got together.

Here's just a list of the sheets I've built?

McDavid - Human Fighter (Banneret). Extremely generic build with notably low CHA. Plays a somewhat supportive role in his fighting.

Draisaitl - Tiefling Rogue (Arcane Trickster). First in his family to manifest their demonic heritage in generations, family didn't take it well. Left home and was a bounty hunter before becoming an adventurer. Most of his spells are to make up for his terrible CHA stat plus general utility.

Hyman - Human Paladin (Devotion). Came from a noble family and decided to use his strengths for good, much to their chagrin. The most traditional "hero" archetype you can imagine. He's just a good dude.

Nugent-Hopkins - Owlkin Druid (Shepard)/Monk (not enough for a subclass at the level I've built him at). Came from a circle of druids out in the wilds protecting the people from anything that may slip from the Feywild. He is admittedly the wildest character I built out of everyone. Ice and animal magic. The team hates his choice of creatures - they're bad at target selection.

McLeod - Aasimar Bard (Swords). Supposedly "destined for great things," then ran away to join the circus instead of dealing with that. Learned how to use his weapons and magic there. Joined the adventurer's guild a few years later. Magic is mostly disruption-focused with an offensive lean.

Bouchard - Elven Fighter (Arcane Archer). Another person from the wilds as a Ranger-style character but without the terrible class mechanics. Similar to Nugent-Hopkins, was charged with protecting the wilds from aberrations or preventing monsters from spilling out into more populated areas. Plays a sniper-esque role.

Skinner - Earth Genasi Wizard (Abjuration). Came from an area of the world with greater contact with the Outer Planes, or stranger dimensions. Learned a wide variety of magic before setting out and making a name for himself with his buddy. Defensive magic is his specialty, but he does have a gun if necessary.

Desharnais - Goliath Barbarian (Juggernaut). Met Skinner and decided to travel with him. Fighting style is essentially he plants his feet and doesn't move, but you can't move him, either.

Gagner - Human Cleric (Tempest). Older adventurer who prefers to manage the back end of the guild these days, but still absolutely capable of killing you. Outside the requisite healing magic, he focuses on destructive area of effect spells.

Yamamoto - Halfling Sorcerer (Wild Magic). Sorry buddy. Court aide to some powerful party in the local city. Hides under his cheerful goofy vibes to deal massive amounts of psychic damage.

Matthews - Air Genasi Barbarian (Desert Storm Herald). Comes from a different far off land (Arizona equivalent lmao) to gain working experience. He runs around and hits things.

Marner - Half-Elf Sorcerer (Lunar) / Warlock (Great Old One). Was expected to be a very powerful sorcerer from his family, but his magic never successfully manifested; took a deal with a... something to be at the level everyone expects him to be. Lies a lot - good thing he's good at that. His spell list is a mess: half of it's telepathy or psychic powers, the other half is his moon magic.

[bobbieisthebest]

Joel, holding a baseball bat: There’s no need to be afraid of me. I don’t bite.

Mort, standing a safe distance away: Yeah, but do you wack?

Joel:

Joel: I don’t bite.

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Charles: I don’t know about this, Jake.

Jake: The last time you said that Hoffer you ended up loving it.

Charles: The last time I said that you were holding a bag of durian flavored chips; now you’re holding a roman candle. They are two very different things.

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Nate: You remind me of a Russian doll.

Alicia: Aw, thank yo—

Nate: Full of yourself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kato: If anyone has any questions, ask me.

Bobbie: If a bear and a shark had a fight, who would win?

Kato: ... If anyone has any RELEVANT questions, ask me.

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Wendy (a warlock): Do we not have a plan?

Sam, playing barbarian: Who needs a plan? I’ve got an axe.

Sam: *starts running ahead*

Kato, the very tired DM: An axe is not a plan!!!

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Flick: One time Jake and Juniper were having a heated argument in the car and Juniper took Jake's Queen tape out of the player and threw it out the window with rage and Jake looked her dead in the eyes and pulled out a second copy of that same tape and put it back in the player.

Buddy:...And Jake’s still alive?

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Dad: Tell your mother everything is fine.

Joel: Hey, Mom! We haven't eaten for days, your plants are dead, and I'm dropping out of school. Love ya, bye!

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Kato: What? Didn't I specifically tell you not to do specifically, exactly just that?

Alex: Actually, specifically, you said not to *humiliate* you by doing that. So, we won't!

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Richard: 99% of the time, whenever random violent crap happens, it seems you're somehow involved!

Joel: Can't you have a little faith in that last 1%?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buddy: *screams*

Joel: *screams louder to establish dominance*

Flick, concerned: Um, shouldn’t we do something?

Patty: No, I want to see who wins this time.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jake: Fun fact of the day: pen ink tastes like almonds..... don't try to suck the ink out of your pens kids it's disgusting and makes your mouth feel funny.

Patty: Why would you even do that?

Jake *shrugs*: I was bored.

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Bobbie at Alicia’s house: I love jacuzzis!

Bobbie: Sometimes I pretend that I'm getting captured by witches and they're using me to make soup!

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Juniper: I know this is going to sound sarcastic, but this is a great plan and I’m really impressed with you guys.

Buddy:

Nate:

Sam: Don’t listen to her, this is a great plan.

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Wendy: Kato, are you sure you don't wanna use my graduation speech? It goes like this: Later, losers.

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Alicia: Due to enormous personal flaws I refuse to work on, I will be arriving extremely late with an iced coffee. Please respect that.

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Juniper: I am so hungover. I have never been this hungover. Are we dead?

Alex: I feel great, I ran 5k this morning.

Flick: Really?

Alex: No I threw up in the shower.

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Joel: My life is a cautionary tale, but like a cool, flashy one that instead of inspiring people to do better it inspires them to be more chaotic

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Juniper: can we go to a haunted house?

Mom: what’s wrong with the one we live in?

Joel: wh- wait what?!

Mom: goodnight Children.

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Humphrey: Mr. Jake, what’s your favorite food?

Jake, deadpan: Children.

Flick: JACOB!

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Nate: Are you crazy?

Joel: Legally no, there's not a word for my condition.

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Charles: [casually taking four stairs at a time]

Wendy, falling behind: Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fu-

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Kato: Dear people who won’t stop asking- Yes, I am actually feeling fine, and yes, I really have been getting a decent amount of sleep at night!

Kato *bites into an onion*

Kato: Hey, this apple tastes like shi-

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Richard: *puts a cup down over a spider*

Joel: *appears; smiles; puts 2 more cups down beside Jay’s*

Richard: Come on, Joel, please no, don’t… DON’T—

Joel: *starts shuffling the cups*

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Jake: Hoffer, in your professional opinion, how would I die?

Charles: Murder. Gangland style execution. We never find your head.

Nate: That’s a shame.

Patty: *slightly raises finger in question*

Charles: You slip in a tub.

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Buddy about Jake: I'd follow him to hell and back, but I wish he'd stop going there.

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Bobbie: I love to dismiss my horrible decisions by saying "yeah that was a weird time in my life" as if the rest of my existence hasn't been absolute clown shoes.

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Alicia: I have met some of the most insufferable people. But they also met me.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Juniper: When I was small-

Kato: *chuckles* Was?

[sorrowsaint]

some kind of vibe

ooc : eh. little drabble because i need to write or ill die

The echo of her words rattling around in her head, her belly full of chicken parmesan from the world's strongest barbarian mother, and her heart full of heavy, Lucy jumps out a window on the first floor of Mordred Manor.

Banishment! The prayer to Ruvina--a goddess Lucy can no longer hear--and a wish for a monster to stop terrorizing innocent people. That diamond-strong desire to protect and survive. After having been a passenger in her own horrifically shattered body... Lucy shivers, rubbing her arms as she walks down the pitch black Elmville streets.

She breathes deep, taking in the crisp midnight air, and notices it doesn't taste as sweet. That, after her revival (thanks Tracker), that she doesn't feel right. She twists her head like an owl, which she notes as being cool but disturbing. She can still feel her Banishment spell, even though it's been... around an hour. Which is not correct, because Banishment becomes permanent after one minute. Which must mean something, and whatever that something is it isn't good. She sighs, rubbing her face with both palms. Why?

She thought she had the fucking answer. That love and hope could win something. That she was finally fucking right, and had some agency over her own life, and could make a change, and could help people, and-- and... Lucy stands in her yard, her eyes cast across her garden. She knows her parents are out looking for her, so the house is empty. She ignores the house and heads to the garden, kneeling beside her flowerbeds. After she came back, she kept them immaculate. Ivy helped. She watches with a dull expression as baby's breath and pitcher plants wave in the wind.

Why wasn't she able to be right? For once? Just for once, she wanted to be right. To be able to enact change instead of just... removing herself. She still felt like a fucking coward for staying dead--even if she knows it was right--and now she dies again? Pathetic. Pathetic! She thought a cold girl like her could have any answers, to be able to save a monster, to be able to undo the past by avoiding a repeat of history.

But, no. History repeated. She died again at the hands of a friend turned monster. She didn't answer the riddle. She didn't say the right thing, save a single fucking person. People were hurt. Scared. Traumatized. Because Lucy thought she was above violence. Like someone holy rather than the wretched barbaric monster she knew she was.

Lucy curls and flops to the side, her head landing in a patch of baby's breath. It grows fast and spreads a lot. She closes her eyes, but all she sees is Porter. No, a mirror, where her reflection is Porter. There's a terrifying glint in his/her eye that makes Lucy's skin crawl. She was just like he said. Incapable of changing the world with peace. Like he had told her whenever she questioned his methods. And he was right.

He was right, and Lucy was pathetic. Only good as a moldable lump, like ice one chips into a better shape. She wonders if he was rotting in hell and knew he would haunt her the rest of her life, gloating gloating gloating. That he was right. He was always right about her. She was Lucy Frostblade, and he was the god of rage and fire, and she would melt when he said.

She doesn't realize she's crying until she notices the pure white baby's breath flowers turning black. Without looking at her face she knows her tears are black. Whatever. Maybe they simply reflected the vile little thing brewing in her heart. Her shattered soul even Tracker's magic couldn't snap back together. Lucy lays there and cries.

What would she do now? She failed. She was different. She failed AGAIN. So confident, so wrong. What could a monster like her do to improve the world?

... Fix it. Fix her mistake. Find Baron, her Baron, and free them. Kill the Bad Baron. Show the world Baron could be good, could be loved, could be loving. And then she would die.

The thought of dying again crashes into her like a motorcycle going 90 in a 30. What? She would fix her mistakes and what, just... collapse into a pile of bones? Stupid, Lucy. Stupid. Idiotic. She'd first ruin her life so no one could ever miss her again and then die. Go into the mountains of chaos and fight a displacer beast barehanded. Be smote by a god as divine punishment. Just keel over.

She curls up, holding her legs under her knees with her hands. Plans come to her slowly--what can she do to fix this? Who could help her? Who could she help? How could she keep her friends completely unaware that she had shattered like a porcelain doll across the ground? How could she make sure no one would notice until she had done it and could dive into lava?

She holds her hands to her chest, where a small scar sits. Porter had tried to push a shatterstar into her chest, to force her to rise, and even when she was revived it left a mark. Emanating from the spot, translucent and ethereal, she knows there is a tether. A tie. To Baron. To Bad Baron. And she could feel that string, that Banishment, that milliseconds post revival spell that saved Mordred. The tie. She feels power course through it, to her. For her. A gift Baron might have given in earnest, but now one she takes selfishly.

It's a power that she could use to fix everything and go back to being a normal girl. As long as nobody knew and nobody could ever help her. People who help her get hurt. She won't let it.

She falls asleep in the garden, and wakes up in her bed. Her moms both nap on her bedroom floor, exhausted from scouring Elmville for her only to find her in their garden. They don't know she died. They'll never know.

She loves them. So they can't know how much pain and suffering she's experiencing.

[bookaddiction14]

By looking over all my book/ tv boyfriends, it really helps me understand why I have so many problems 🥴

OUAT Hook and Rumplestiltskin,

Vektal (Ice Plant Barbarians),

Theo (Clecarian series),

Daryl Dixon,

John Murphy (The 100),

Kaz (6of Crows),

Aragorn,

Loki,

Bucky Barnes,

Xaden Riorson (Fourth Wing),

Dean Winchester,

Thorin Oakenshield,

Merlin (BBC),

[vidalinav]

I've read Ice Plant Barbarians. Aliens existing is fine by me.

[mochiknows]

I’m reading Ice Plant Barbarians again after I finish HOFAS as a palette cleanser.

[the-black-swan-paracosm]

Star Wars fanfic idea

(Oh, please, please, please write this. Send me the link, I beg you)

Jango Fett’s twin brother, Janga.

Papa Fett was bad at naming his kids.

Arla and Mama Fett died of a plague two years prior to Jaster squatting in their field

—

“Jango-“

“I’m Janga. Jang-ah. Ah.” The twin emphasized.

—

Y’all I read so many Industrial Revolution Song of Fire and Ice fanfiction that I thought, “Hmmm, let’s make it Star Wars but with Mandalorian armor and saves Manda’yaim with economics and wit.”

—

Possible beginning chapter:

The planet Concord Dawn where the Fetts were born…and their family died…

Decades ago, the mercenary group known as the Mandalorians fractured, giving rise to a chaotic splinter group. They called themselves “Death Watch” and filled a barbarian called Vizsla, who believed that the Mandalorians should conquer the galaxy.

Vizsla orchestrated a bloody coup against the true Mandalorians, still loyal to a reformed murderer and journeyman named Jaster Mereel, who believed that the Mandalorians were merely highly-paid soldiers.

On Concord Dawn, Death Watch scattered the Mandalorians…and a hunt began…

“You can’t escape me, Jaster! I’ll burn all your hiding places to the ground and execute anyone who helps you! And when you have nowhere left to run, I’ll have your head!” Vizsla swore while Jaster and his surviving men retreated into a field that provided cover with the tall harvest.

Mereel and his men came across a farmer at the heart of the field.

The farmer dropped his basket and grabbed the rifle resting nearby. Mereel raised his hands away from his blasters.

“Please, we aren’t here to rob or harm you. We just need shelter until the next rotation’s nightfall.” Mereel pleaded. His men kept their blasters holstered or lowered in deference to their leader.

The farmer stared Mereel down with his rifle, never wavering from the weak point in the Mando’s armor at his neck. The farmer must have heard the honesty in Jaster’s plea or seen something in his body language because he lowers his blaster.

“You lot will stay hidden in the field. You,” the Farmer nodded his head at Jaster, “I have food I’m willing to give to you and your men for the night and tomorrow morning. After that you’re on your own. This fields harvest ain’t ready for another month so don’t kriff with my plants!” The farmer stared down each of Mereel’s men, challenging them to try it and find out what will happen.

“Keep quiet, too.” The Farmer carried on, “I have twin sons that are too damn curious, each with their own blaster rifles. They shot the last squatters in our fields, so either make noise and take your chances or be quiet and survive.”

The True Mandalorians solemnly nod, increasingly regretting their encounter with this farmer.

“Now, Red Cape come and get your bread basket. My boys should be prepping the harvester which is in the opposite field to this one.”

Mereel followed dumbly and returned to his men without issue or the farmer.

Jango and Janga noticed the boot prints the next morning. They were military boots, not their father’s work boots. Shifting the rifles on their shoulders, they silently nodded to each other, agreeing to track their newest squatter.

However their father stopped them.

“Jango! Janga!”

“Da!?!” They yelled in-sync.

“You two should be fixing the harvester not playing out here. Get back to work.“

“What’s in–“ Jango started to ask.

“–the basket?” Janga finished.

“Food.” Their dad replied gruffly, “There’s a beggar in the fields.”

“A beggar?”

“Who is it?”

“The harvester, Jango. Janga. Don’t make me tell you two again.”

They worked in tandem on the engine of the harvester. Jango took the first shift while Janga took the second. It was only around noon that they were interrupted by a rough voice.

“Hey, kids.”

The twins turned to see two armored men. One with a rifle pointed at Jango.

“Let me see your hands. Kriff me, they’re identical.” Vizsla spoke.

“What do you want?” The Fett twins said together.

“Kriff, that was creepy. We’re looking for some bad men. Have you seen any strangers?”

“Other than you?”

“Smart kids. Let’s just shoot them and move on.” The soldier with the rifle remarked.

Vizsla marched closer and kneeled to their level, “I will let him kill the two of you.” Cupping the boy’s cheeks.

The soothing gesture felt off-putting in their tense situation. The soldier had moved closer too. The blaster was centimeters from Jango’s head.

The twins shared a look and nodded.

“Dad gave a beggar some food today.” Jango began.

“We think the beggar wore boots…” Janga tensely continued.

“Soldier boots.” The twins finished.

“Jaster.” Vizsla muttered to himself and straightened away from the boys.

“What now?” The soldier asked for a directive.

“We’ll make sure the boys get home, of course!” He laughed.

Vizsla commed his soldiers to capture the farm. By the time the twins were marched to their house by Vizsla and the soldier, their house was already captured and their father kneeled on the ground.

“Sitrep!” Vizsla commanded.

“The farmer, Fett, hasn’t said anything. We’ve already asked him about if he’s seen any Mandalorians, but he refuses to talk.”

“Well, now that his children are here, maybe he has loosened his tongue.”

The Death Watch soldiers aimed at the twins, who tightly held hands and stared at their father for clues about what to do.

“My name is Vizsla. I am the leader of the Death Watch. I’m looking for a man. A coward. Your boys already told me about a beggar in your fields. Care to elaborate?”

“It was just another beggar. He already left.”

“Really? That’s interesting. Your boys said the beggar had military boots on. You feed every soldier that comes your way? This is the last time I ask nicely…where is Jaster Mereel?”

“Boys!” The twins startled at their father’s attention, “Take care of each other.”

Vizsla drew his blaster and fired a bolt into the farmer’s head. The whine of the gun echoing in the twin’s heads.

The Death Watch leader turned his attention back to the children.

“Well now boys, why don’t you two show me where those boot prints were and I’ll consider letting you live.”

The twins stood in shock. Unable to focus on Vizsla as their father’s dead body remained in full view.

“Boys!” The killer yelled, “where exactly did you see those footprints?”

Before the brothers could even point out the direction, a fusillade of blaster bolts came from that direction. Several of Vizsla’s men were down, and those that remained weren’t enough to deal with Jaster’s men.

Vizsla retreated into a hover car, intent on regrouping with the rest of his men. One of his men sounded the retreat, and Vizsla watched as Jaster grabbed the twins into the cover of the crops.

“Burn the fields!” Vizsla commanded. “There’s no way Jaster will survive that.”

Jango and Janga hugged each other as they mourned. Their minds clouded with grief, only to have a voice cut in,

“Field’s on fire! Let’s move boys.” Jaster informed his men. He turned to the twins, “Your family is dead, boys! Come with us or die here too!”

Janga looked at his brother, he nodded and they followed after the armored men. The smoke thickened and clouded the air and the heat around them grew in intensity.

“Jaster! I can’t see anything!” One of the soldiers up front yelled.

Jango and Janga recognized this trail though. It led to an irrigation tube. Locking hands they shoved their way to the front.

“This way!”

“Come on.”

The fire grew around them and the soldier with the red pauldrons complained, “Can’t see anything.”

“We’re al-“

“-most there.”

“Boys, how the hell do you do that? Wait, almost where?” But his question was answered when the plant-stalks were stomped down. “An irrigation tube?”

“We can crawl-

“-under the fire.”

“Or get boiled alive,” Montross remarked.

“It’s not like-“

“You lot have-“

“A better option!”

Janga and Jango twisted open the cap and Janga braced his hands to help Jango in.

“Wait!” Jaster called out, “I’ll go first. You boys follow after.”

They water slide to the drain outlet which ended outside of the Fett’s field.

“Check your weapons and catch your breath.” Jaster ordered his men, “We’re moving out as soon as it gets dark.”

Another soldier remarked as he poured the trapped water out of his helmet, “Now, we just have to find Vizsla. He’ll need to resupply…”

“We can take you to the closest town.” Janga said as he and his twin watched their home burn.

“They sell food and power cells. He’ll be there.” Janga continued.

“You know how to use a blaster, boys?”

“We can shoot blasters and rifles.” They answered in-sync.

“Our dad…”

“He taught us.”

“Then he was a good man. The twins come with us.” Jaster ordered. The group laid down a plan of action.

-

Meanwhile at the town, Death Watch had stormed in. Vizsla happy with the assumed death of his enemy, Jaster.

“Alright gentlemen. Two days rest before we head to Moonus Mandel. This town is ours.” Tor relieved his men.

One of the Death Watch soldiers shoved aside a cloaked crippled in his path, “Move it, cripple.”

However, the beggar spun around and the whine of a blaster resounded. The soldier fell dead and the disguised Mandalorian took cover.

Hidden in one of buildings, Jaster commed, “This is Jaster. Phase one successful. Move to phase two. Montross, open fire.”

Several True Mandalorians open fired on the Death Watch soldiers. Boxing the men closer to their vehicle.

Jango ran and slide under the tank, attaching a bomb to the carriage. He rolled out and signed to his brother as he scrambled away.

Janga commed, “He’s done! Blow it up!” Jango skidded next to Janga.

The APC detonated and the twins watched the destruction.

“Phase three complete.” Jaster announced, “Pick off the stragglers.” The words emerged from the comm.

They noticed and recognized one of the surviving enemy soldiers. They raised their blasters together and pointed them at the man.

“You killed-

“-our dad!”

“He was just a casualty of war, kids.”

Then the man charged at them with a hidden blade, they drop their blasters to save their necks.

At the same time Jaster was making his way to what was left of the ride. “Damn!” Jaster yelled when he inspected the empty vehicle, “Vizsla’s gone. Finish off your current targets and pull out!” He ordered.

The boys scrambled for a dead soldier’s weapons as Death Watch’s Second in Command chased after them, “Stop playing soldier…”

But whatever he wanted to say next died with him as the boys fired the blaster together. The twins just killed a man. They just killed. Theyjustkilledamantheyjustkilledaman

Suddenly hands rested on both their shoulders and they looked at the man between them.

“You came through, Jango, Janga.” Jaster said. “But we have to go. Now.”

“He’s dead.” They whispered as Jaster lifted both of them into his arms.

“Yes. Do you two feel any better?”

“No…”

“We don’t know.”

“Not yet.”

“Good.” Jaster responded. Tossing their stolen blaster aside. “Welcome to the Mandalorians.”

—

Montross greeted the twins incorrectly, “Ah, Janga, Jango. Good morning. Have you seen your buir?”

“Right here Montross. Jango, Janga,” pointedly looking at Montross over the correction, “It’s time for your morning drills.”

Do a Rosencratz and Guildenstein

—

Eyayah - echo

[Agglutinative language - A twin is the echo of its twin. ]

—

Jaster looked at his boys.

“Jango wants to become a warrior to protect me.”

“And Janga wants to make the armor to protect me.”

His ade wanted to become a goran and verd. Well, Jaster certainly had his work cut out for him.

—

gedin'la

eccentric, cranky, in a mood - literally *almost insane*

That was what many had taken to calling Janga.

That or “Ashi Jan’ika” (other little Jango). However, that one resulted in fights with those of equal or lesser rank and verbal assault to those above Janga’s status.

(Jaster will never confess it, but he refers to both boys as Jan’ika when he doesn’t know which one he is speaking to…)

But Janga earned his new nickname by his insane forging methods. Janga applied what he has learnt from his sciences, maths, and even history classes into his blacksmithing skills.

Jango understood his twin’s dream better than both the treasury and Jaster. So from his bounty coffers, Jango supported the construction of Janga’s forge.

[Janga invents wootz Damascus steel

Different types of steel pressed together create different colors. By combining dark and light steel, patterns can emerge.

Due to the original wootz Damascus steel method being lost and the original source of forging it unknown, Janga will include pure beskar as the unknown element used to forge these blades and armor.]

For each blade that Janga makes, he personalizes it by making the handle out of wood.

He bought a grove of trees from Concord Dawn. When he makes a blade, Janga cuts a branch off and uses the wood to create handles or grips.

Janga uses “salamander fur” to insulate and deoxygenate the kiln. It’s a fabric that loves to be set on fire

—

Jaster and the Goran master cry cause Janga shits on a thousand years of tradition. Jaster once begged to know why Janga would do this to tradition.

Janga rebuffs Jaster by saying that he is, “Mando mandokarla teh manda bat Manda'yaim, Mand’alor”

Or

A Mandalorian having the epitome of Mando virtue from the state of being Mandalorian in mind on the planet Mandalore, Sole Ruler.

And Jaster responds:

“Pare! Ni linibar papuur’gal par gar paklalat.”

“Wait, I need wine for your wit.”

—

Names his weapons, gear, probes, drones, and droids with reference to pop culture

Jon, Poru, Joji, and Ringo

Kihote and Roshinante

Pinkupansā and Inspekutā Kurōsō

Tùbāgē and Dá-fēi yā and Mǎ-wén Huǒxīng-rén

Méilín and Āsā and Mógēn Lè-fēi

—

Chapters dedicated to making armor, weapons, and miscellaneous items for Mando + co

-Weapons for Jaster

-Armor for Jango (I saw that suit comparison for Boba and Din and how Boba where’s an old fashion suit when compared to Din’s Armani one. That upset me so I want Jango to have a super cool beskar’gam wootz steel thing)

-Custom helmets for diff alien species, (Janga invents the flexible metal design helmets for Togaruta and Twi’leks) [there’s a tumblr artist who draws mando helmets for aliens. Find them, that’s what I’m referring to with this option]

-Dog collars, ID tags

-Prosthetic limbs

-Little Metal Mando toy (that one toy wear the helmet comes off it was an ancient toy)

-Metal marbles, for games

(I’m just listing things I think a blacksmith makes at this point lol)

—

Possible chapter:

Janga answered his comm,

“Evening caller, you’re on air with Janga Fett.”

“Janga…” Jango’s voice carried a guilty tone.

“Jango, what’d ya do this time?”

“…We were attacked by pirates. They raided the ship and…and took the knife you made for me. I’m so sorry! I know how hard you worked on that for me; and how much time you put into making it and, and, and it was the first of its kind. I’m so, so sorry!”

“Well, that was heartfelt and sincere. Could you bring Jaster over to the comm?” Janga replied, ignoring his twin’s apology.

Jango said nothing for a few moments and Jaster announced himself on the comm,

“Janga? What is it?”

“Open your app features in your helmet.”

“Okay?”

“Find the application named “Ni di’kut mar'eyir””

“Janga, why do I have an app called “Find my Idiot?””

“‘Cause I installed it. Duh.”

Jaster sighed.

“Why are you sighing? You’re gonna be soooo thankful for it in the next second. Open it.”

“Janga, what am I looking at here? There are childish drawings of you and your brother’s face on a…map? Star chart?”

“Ding ding ding!” Janga crooned, “I put a tracker in Jango’s knife.”

“You put a tracker in my knife!?” Jango yelled, sounding offended.

“‘Course I did. You said it yourself. I worked hard on it, I spent a long time on it, and it’s the first of its kind. Of course I built in a tracker into the wooden handle. Since no one sane would destroy such a knife, I figured, it’s as good a place as any to put a tracker. You’re welcome, by the way, as I just found your pirates.”

“Janga,” Jaster hesitated, “Do I want to know how many trackers you’ve installed in others’ armor and weapons?”

“Prolly not, no. Find my Idiot is super popular among parents though. I’m not ashamed of it. I have my own tracker. Jango has several. You have some in your gauntlets and boot heels. What’s more is I donate all the money I make from this to the organizations in charge of the foundlings. Anonymously, of course. The way I figured, I’m already rich, what would I do with all that extra money? Become more rich?” Janga scoffed, “Anyway, thanks Jango. That was a super heartfelt apology. Next time keep my first-of-its-kind knife on your person at all times. Jaster, have fun kicking those pirates’ asses. Oh wait, have you used the whistling birds I made you, yet?”

“No, why?” Jaster replied tentatively.

Janga laughed, “Oh, well…it’ll be fun experience for you then, when you do. Jango, you got to record it for me. Think of it as a way to make up for being an idiot. Anyway, I have orders to fill. Things to build. Stuff to blow up. Laters!”

“Janga, Janga wait—“ Jaster’s pleading was cut off as Janga ended the transmission.

A few hours later Janga accepts another call,

“Late night caller, you’re on the air with Janga Fett.”

“Color? Why were the explosions colorful? How did you make them colorful?”

Janga cackled, “Pretty neat, right?”

“The corpses look like someone dropped paint cans on them.”

“Oh I can’t wait to see the footage! Tell me you’ve got footage!”

Jaster sighed heavily, “Yes, your brother got footage. He would have called you, but he’s been laughing so hard for the past 10 minutes that he’s clutching his gut and crying. You should expect several order requests for your…what did you name them again?”

“I’ve been calling them “Sal-Tracyn be Osik’lane”.”

“”Color-Fire of Horribleness”? Yeah. That, that fits.”

—

“Well, well. If it isn’t Haat and Haa’it. You sure there isn’t a Ijaat laying around somewhere?” The Mandalorian joked.

“You think you’re so clever…” Janga grumbled and kicked at the ground.

(It’s a twin thing for people to joke, ‘where’s your walking mirror,’ ‘where’s the other you,’ ‘well, here’s dumb. Where’s dumber,’ ‘Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum’ they think they’re so funny.)

—

[a-very-serious-guide-to-dnd]

Dnd classes guide

Artificer - Put two and two together and boom, you have a gun Barbarian - AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Bard - A bunch play these to flirt with people, but you also don't even have to play an instrument, you can be a dancing bard Blood Hunter - Your weapons can have fire, lightning, or ice, all that you need is a blood sacrifice- Cleric - You can heal, or not. Your choice. Also, your magic depends on the flavor of god you choose Druid - ANIMALS AND PLANTS PLUS MAGIC Fighter - Punch, kick, jump, or slash/smash/bonk- DO IT AGAIN- NOW YOUR TURN NEVER ENDS Monk - You are basically a fast as hell and your punches hurt like nothing ever before (you also can get mystical powers depending on subclass) Paladin - You make an oath- and you heal Ranger - You are nature, and you can have an animal companion Rouge - Steal, Stealth, Sad. The 3 S's of being a rouge Sorcerer - You get your magic through a bunch of stuff, but not studying or from gods or from patrons Warlock - Patron gives magic, you do what they want, pretty much Wizard - Your bones are brittle, and you'll probably cast fireball too much

[digitalsatyr23]

New doodle! This is for an extinct race in Arachnia (as of the Great Cataclysm) known by many as the Amazons, though among their own they call themselves the Lakti.

When a group of humans turned their back on civilization and the pantheon of gods worshiped by man, these humans found solace in the deepest parts of the western jungles, which would later come to be known as Kau-Lakti (Translation: Echoes of Lakti). The Lakti came to worship elementals and through a special pact, these humans were transformed, becoming tall, statuesque beings that resembled horned women. From then on, more Lakti could be born through a ritual conducted between a willing Lakti and their elemental "mother", with an ether seed planted inside the Lakti's womb. This ritual was kept secret by the Lakti until their death from the Great Cataclysm. Due to their spiritual connection to the planet and the elementals, the horrific change causesd by the Great Cataclysm that split the lands and poisoned the seas created a shockwave that dropped all Lakti in Arachnia dead at the turn of the new millennium. Their lands and ruins were later discovered by Huldra, as many Huldra that survived the Great Cataclysm found their lands interlocked around the former jungles of Kau-Lakti, which would later become known as Southern Tenrai.

Lakti were known to be fearless warriors and nearly impervious to conventional weapons (which were made of bronze and similar metals at the time). Their lands suffered constant invasions from outsiders, including the Craeger barbarians from Klingenheim (Circa 2000 BC) and later the Alulans (Circa 400 BC). Each tribe of Lakti possessed magical powers related to their mother elemental, including fire, ice, water, earth, lightning, wind, and others. One especially famous Lakti was known as Leona. When the Alulans poisoned her tribe's mother elemental, Annuska, Leona was forced to take on a role of leadership while her land and tribe was besieged by the invaders. Later, she was recruited by King Illarion during his quest to defeat the Alulan Dominion. Due to her stalwart lion ally, Bean, as well as Leona's immense courage on the battlefield, she was awarded the title "Knight of Lions." While few people today know of the Lakti or even their true name (often calling them Amazons), their legacy lives on through Leona's deeds.