20 // hamper
Sawyer huffed as she looked over formulas and figures, the graphite in her hand tapping an impatient spot into the paper where the dulled tip hit it. Even as she reached forwards for her cold tea (per the usual, she’d forgotten it was there while it was hot), she continued to glare down at the page, her brow set into a focused scowl.
Behind her, errant wings tapped at her shoulder—one, two, forcing her to pay attention to her posture in her chair as the other two skittered across the paper lightly and poked at the material samples that lay atop them.
Sawyer turned in her seat as the raen’s pointed nouliths folded neatly against her back, and the raen reached out to touch the page.
“Frustration and fury. No stranger to the Hawk, but poured into what, the oasis rarely knows.”
Sawyer hummed a note, answering in her comparatively unembellished fashion, “Modifications to those tools of yours. I’ve traded letters with some acquaintances in Sharlayan that were thrilled to see an original iteration of the concept and asked for schematics in exchange for…”
She paused, watching the way her partner’s hand felt aimlessly at the fibers of the page. She had tried to involve Amesha in as many steps of the design process as she knew how to, initially, having her try to attune herself to a great many different crystals and conduit metals, but the parchment-bound stage of design was always… rather one-sided.
She made an angry noise to herself at the injustice of it. As much as she tried to offer Amesha agency—asking what might better enable her rather than assuming, giving her a means to feel her way through a space rather than be led. "Unfettered by sight" as she so often described herself, and yet there were still realms that Amesha was kept from.
“...Hawk?” the raen called, the lengthy pause no doubt causing her worry as she reached out comfort Sawyer with a scaled hand that the hyur took and pressed to her cheek.
“Sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment. I… find it unfair that I’ve spent all this time designing these wings of yours and yet I’ve not included you in the design as much as I could. The wood models are serviceable, but only once I’ve gone through iterations upon iterations with little of your input.”
The raen’s head tilted, and though she smiled, she knew better than to placate. She’d learned well than to give Sawyer an empty reassurance when the hyur was set on the idea that something could be improved for her partner’s sake. Honestly, the hyur might have felt more strongly about it than even she did, but she knew Sawyer would argue back, “All the more reason to be a part of the solution.”
Sighing, the raen withdrew her hand and returned it to the page. “Would that quillstroke and letter could be writ into parchment like the river writes a canyon. Engraved upon page as it is engraved upon earth…” With this, her noulith tipped itself into the sheet, pressing a deep line into a corner of the page that nearly threatened to tear.
Sawyer sat up, at first ready to give the raen light admonishment, but quickly stopped herself at a realization. “...That’s less of a fantasy than you imply. I think you’ve quite possibly come up with the first step towards a solution all by yourself.” she mumbled, looking up and around her desk at the various materials there. “Just a moment.”
She leaned forwards to grab for a narrow metal rod, then grabbed for a blank sheet of parchment while she moved all others aside. The shuffle of paper followed by the quiet scraping of metal caused Amessha to wonder quietly what Sawyer was, presumably, sketching onto this new sheet.
“Now,” the hyur said, papers shuffling again. She pulled Amesha’s hand to the table and laid it gently across the parchment, where the raen explored with her fingertips delightedly. “What do you think I’ve drawn?”
Amesha made an unsure noise as she explored, but indeed, she did feel raised lines in the paper. Long, not quite straight, narrowing shapes that met a tight, rounded end. Many of them, fanned out and layered not unlike scales—
“A… bird’s wing?” Amesha questioned, and she could practically hear Sawyer beaming.
“Yes, exactly right,” she said, in that tone Amesha knew meant she’d be spending a while longer hunched over her work table. She was pulled in briefly, a kiss planted on the raen’s cheek before Sawyer excitedly mumbled. “I’ve got some additions to make to my schematics.”
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a list of 100+ buildings to put in your fantasy town
academy
adventurer's guild
alchemist
apiary
apothecary
aquarium
armory
art gallery
bakery
bank
barber
barracks
bathhouse
blacksmith
boathouse
book store
bookbinder
botanical garden
brothel
butcher
carpenter
cartographer
casino
castle
cobbler
coffee shop
council chamber
court house
crypt for the noble family
dentist
distillery
docks
dovecot
dyer
embassy
farmer's market
fighting pit
fishmonger
fortune teller
gallows
gatehouse
general store
graveyard
greenhouses
guard post
guildhall
gymnasium
haberdashery
haunted house
hedge maze
herbalist
hospice
hospital
house for sale
inn
jail
jeweller
kindergarten
leatherworker
library
locksmith
mail courier
manor house
market
mayor's house
monastery
morgue
museum
music shop
observatory
orchard
orphanage
outhouse
paper maker
pawnshop
pet shop
potion shop
potter
printmaker
quest board
residence
restricted zone
sawmill
school
scribe
sewer entrance
sheriff's office
shrine
silversmith
spa
speakeasy
spice merchant
sports stadium
stables
street market
tailor
tannery
tavern
tax collector
tea house
temple
textile shop
theatre
thieves guild
thrift store
tinker's workshop
town crier post
town square
townhall
toy store
trinket shop
warehouse
watchtower
water mill
weaver
well
windmill
wishing well
wizard tower
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Perhaps they ought not to have eaten the dragon. There had been people objecting to it at the time. Surely such meat was poisonous. Perhaps it was even an affront, an insult to some intangible order of nature they ought to honour.
But the city was starving, the siege had gone on too long, and the king's troops were still a week's march away. The scorched earth would be fertile again in time, but right now it was barren. Right now there were mouths to feed. So they changed their crossbows for butcher knives and got to work.
None of the royal commanders asked any questions that could not be answered. After all, their aid had come shamefully late. The dragon's horned skull made a noble gift, a fitting tribute from a triumphant city to its humbled king. Who would have thought to question them?
And none of the townsfolk spoke up, when the first golden-eyed babes were born. Children who grew up barefoot and fearless, clambering over the city's patched and rebuilt roofs like they had no notion of falling, with a strange glitter to their skin when the sunlight hit it just so. No one breathed a word about dragons.
Because soon enough there were deft, young hands taking loaves straight out of the oven, heedlessly lifting iron from the forge, plunging into boiling laundry water. And some of them more wondrous still, wild, warm-skinned youths, with inexplicable knowledge and peculiar remedies.
A blessing, their families said proudly. A blessing after so much hardship. Which it was, in its way. This city would never fear dragon fire again.
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I love casual CNC so much. I'm making food? Stick a vibrator in my ass and turn it max and then proceed to help with cooking acting as if you didn't anything. I'm playing games? Lift me up and sit me down on your dick/strap and bounce me without even acknowledging that anything sexual is happening. I'm watching TV? Put a ball gag, cat ears and a buttplug in me and cuddle me asking what I'm watching and all I can answer is drool and mumbles. I could go for hours with examples. I just love this so much.
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PLEASE for the love of the universe read anti-colonial science fiction and fantasy written from marginalized perspectives. Y’all (you know who you are) are killing me. To see people praise books about empire written exclusively by white women and then turn around and say you don’t know who Octavia Butler is or that you haven’t read any NK Jemisin just kills me! I’m not saying you HAVE to enjoy specific books but there is such an obvious pattern here
Some of y’all love marginalized stories but you don’t give a fuck about marginalized creators and characters, and it shows. Like damn
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