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nevertheless-moving · 20 days

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I wrote it. They ask.

"So you're essentially an expert on honor, right?"

Kaladin blinked at Shallan, unsure what to make of the question. The three of them had finished eating, and had moved to a smaller, shared table for drinks, secluded from the rest of the building by a hazy curtain. The conversation had been drifting lazily from the city's latest scandals to squire hijinks.

"What?" Kaladin finally said, slightly confused at the abrupt change of topic.

"Of course you are, you're the first person chosen by an honorspren in thousands of years!" Adolin said enthusiastically.

"I mean—"

"And you always figure out the right thing to do!" Shallan said.

"That's definitely not—"

Adolin nodded. "Never murder anyone in cold blood, even when they deserve it."

Kaladin sighed heavily. "Where are you two going with this?"

Shallan coughed into her freehand. "Well, you see, we've been having a little debate about...honor."

"And we were hoping you could settle it. Impartially," Adolin said, tone serious.

Kaladin squinted at him. There was something off about his expression. "Can't you ask Syl?"

Syl was meeting with some of the honorspren with newer bonds tonight; she had insisted that she could handle it on her own, and that he should take the night off, but he was sure she would be happy to switch places to come by and give her opinion on other people's business; that was practically a hobby for her. He wasn't sure sure where pattern was, come to think of it; he hadn't heard him buzz in a while.

"Actually we did!" Shallan said brightly.

"She was our first choice, no offense," Adolin said. "I don't think she entirely understood the dilemma."

"It's a bit too, well, human." Shallan took a large sip of her wine, emptying the glass, but didn't waive over a server for more.

Kaladin felt dread start to coil low in his stomach, the fragile relaxation of the evening starting to slip away. "...I'm going to regret hearing about this, aren't I?"

Adolin leaned towards him, turning wide, pleading eyes his direction. "Please, Kaladin?"

Shallan matched him. Stormfather. Not so long ago ago, lighteyes looking at him like that would have filled him with derision at most. What had happened to him.

"Fine." Kaladin leaned back in his seat, giving in. He was a little curious, even though he knew he wasn't going to be happy with whatever he was about to hear. "What is it?"

Shallan straightened, as if to give a presentation before the Queen. Storms, I have a really bad feeling about this.

"Well, as you know, I'm a lightweaver, and can change mine or someone else's appearance, such that they exactly resemble another. I can also create an illusion, so that it appears that an individual is present, when in fact, they are not."

"...Yes?" Was Shallan nervous? Adolin didn't kill another highprince, did he?

"Now, obviously, practicing lightweaving by pretending to be someone else, when done entirely in private, I mean just me, myself, and I, practicing my radiant abilities, can't possibly be dishonorable."

"I guess?"

Adolin leaned forward now, one hand gesturing sharply. "But what if I'm there? I mean, no ones suggesting that it would be acceptable for Shallan to assume a specific private individual's form in public."

"Unless it's to save lives," Shallan said.

Adolin nodded. "Unless of course it's to save lives."

"Or as part of my crown assigned radiant duties."

"Or that, can't forget to mention that."

"Or with said individual's consent."

"Naturally, consent makes all the difference."

"Quite a few shades of grey."

"Truly, once you think about it. Infinite nuance."

Kaladin pinched the bridge of his nose, scowling to keep from laughing. "Did you rehearse this?"

Shallan waved her hand in his face, forestalling any other objections. "In any case! Would we be disrespecting an individual, let's call this person 'Lin' for short, would we be behaving dishonorably towards Lin, were I to assume Lin's form, or have Adolin assume Lin's form, or have Lin appear while both of us are present, soley within the privacy of our chambers?"

Kaladin waited a few seconds for Adolin to chime in, but he just continued staring intently at Kaladin.

"...This is about Lyn?"

"No, not Lyn, Lin," Shallan corrected primly. He could just barely make out a difference. "Neutral born unto. Just, we don't want to say her — say their name specifically, but I thought saying 'the individual' would get unwieldy."

Ok, probably not about Lyn. Unless they're using a confusing fake name to make me think that. He started to feel a throbbing at the base of his skull.

"Is there some specific reason you want to look like... Lin?" He dropped his voice slightly, rubbing his temples. "Is it for a practical reason? Or do you want to make fun of her — them?"

"Definitely not to make fun of them!" Adolin said, voice dropping to match Kaladin's.

"Many people would consider it flattering," Shallan whispered. "For their form to be assumed in this specific context!"

"We're just not certain if Lin would think that, and we're worried that it would be worse to ask."

"So we decided to ask you instead, since again, you're —"

Kaladin waved a hand at her before they could jump into another bizarre routine. "Honorable, yes, whatever, fine. I get it."

Adolin put a hand on his arm, expression earnest. "Look. If you think we should just directly talk to Lin then we'll do it. We just...don't want to embarrass them, or hurt their feelings in someway. We genuinely aren't sure how they would react, and I mean. You don't have to ask someone's permission for thinking about them, but this is a step up from that, and it's not like there's many people who have had the option, so...hence the uncertainty, and asking for a neutral, completely unconnected, third party opinion."

"Alright, I...guess that makes sense? In an extremely weird way." Kaladin looked between the two of them. Shallan's expression was open and honest, but unfortunately that didn't mean much. Adolin was earnest, but there was something weird about his posture. Guilty? Excited? "But why do you want to see a lightweaving of Lin in private so much?"

Shallan pretended to take a sip out of her empty glass. "I assume you can guess, bridgeboy. Is it really necessary for us to say it aloud?" She had just a hint of red staining the tops of ears, but she colored easily. It could just be the alcohol.

"I really don't know," Kaladin said, baffled. "Is this a lighteyes thing? Like you want to, I don't know...model fashion on them?"

"Ooh." Adolin suddenly looked far too eager. "That's actually not what we were thinking."

"I didn't think it was a lighteyes thing," Shallan said. "But I suppose it could be. I don't have a significant enough sample size to presume." That was clearly a joke there that Kaladin didn't get.

Adolin cleared his throat. "Well." He made another sharp motion with his hands, letting Kaladin go. "As you know, Shallan and I are married."

"Yes, I was at your wedding," Kaladin said dryly.

"We are married," Adolin repeated, talking over him. "And that comes with certain... duties and privileges."

"Among which—" Shallan was definitely blushing now. "—and I suppose this could be considered an, ah, 'lighteyes thing,' is well. The need to create an heir."

They can't possibly be asking me this. Kaladin looked desperately to Adolin, but the man just gave him a sheepish, apologetic grin.

A small part of Kaladin curled up and died.

Blood Of My Fathers.

"No," Kaladin said. "Absolutely not. You are not asking me about something to do with your sex lives."

"You see," Adolin said. "I know you've said you don't have interest in, well, any of that. But for many the process of creating an heir is not just—"

"ARGH." Kaladin threw his arms up, crossing them over his head.

"— a responsibility but a pleasure which—"

"Almighty's Tenth name!"

"—can be performed creatively—"

Kaladin pressed his head to the table, burying himself in his arms to hide his too warm face and probably disgusted expression.

"Stop. Please. Stop." He knew he was whining in a way ill befitting a Windrunner of his Ideal, but the booth they were in was private, and Adolin and Shallan had seen him in far less dignified circumstances.

"Sorry," Adolin said, patting him on the shoulder. "Just wanted to make sure you understood."

"Well I don't!" Kaladin said, looking up but not lifting his chin from his arms. "And I don't storming want to! Why can't you just look like yourselves! I thought you liked how each other looked! I've literally caught you drooling!"

Adolin frowned. "I don't drool, bridgeboy."

Shallan's face was nearly as red as his face felt, but her expression was significantly more gleeful. "I…there may have been one sparring session I observed…that may have generated a small amount of moisture."

Adolin cocked an eyebrow, and smirked. "Moisture, huh?"

"I hate you two," Kaladin lied emphatically.

"Sorry, Sorry." Adolin patted him on the shoulder again. "So? What do you think?"

"I think Rlain is right and its a storming miracle humans have managed to accomplish anything when most of us are permanently stuck in mateform."

Adolin heaved a dramatic sigh. "About our question, Kal, come on. We know you don't like talking about this stuff but that's exactly why we needed your opinion! You're unbiased!"

"And honorable, yes you said. Have I mentioned before that the rewards for being honorable blow?"

They turned twin pleading expressions toward him and he caved immediately. Storms, he had gotten weak. "Battar and Shallash, fine," he snapped. "Fine, give me a minute, alright. Just stop talking. "

The two waited, Shallan only opening her mouth to make a joke twice, Adolin successfully nudgeing her quiet each time; Kaladin lifted himself up, elbows on the table and head in his hands as he looked down, forcing himself to actually give it serious consideration. Wait, I thought Veil was the one who was attracted to women. Oh. Right.

"Alright," he finally said. "I get that people can't always help what they...think about. That's fine. And I also know that trying not to think about something sometimes makes people think about it more, so."

Adolin and Shallan nodded. "You have no idea," Adolin said. "Seriously, I love Shallan, I've absolutely tried not looking at other women's — anyway. It's so much easier to just forgive eachother the occasional wayward glance or errant thought." They squeezed each others hands.

Kaladin sighed. "Right. Sorry if I came off as judgemental."

"No, no, you've made it very clear that you don't like talking about such things, it's completely reasonable to be unhappy. We are sorry for the times we...overshare in front of you."

"It's fine," Kaladin said curtly. "Really. I know you try. Anyway. I also understand that people sometimes, er, fantasize. That way. About things or people they don't actually want in real life. And. Uh. Sometimes people... act that out."

Kaladin stared determinedly at the table, face hot. There was a swirling pattern in the marble that he hadn't noticed before.

"You do?" Adolin said, sounding surprised.

Kaladin coughed. The swirling pattern kind of looked like a river, viewed from above. "There. Might have been an incident, early on in the army, when I heard a couple and, er, overreacted slightly. They took the time to explain things in... painful detail. It's fine. None of my business."

"That's. Very open minded of you," Shallan said, sounding slightly strangled. "Tell me, when the couple was explaining things — oof." Kaladin didn't look, but he was fairly sure Adolin just stepped on her foot, something he was infinitely grateful for. It had been an extremely mortifying lesson. The pair had said they weren't mad about being interrupted, but he was fairly sure they were lying, considering how much detail they went into in their explanation.

"Honestly, the whole...dressing weird, or calling eachother names or using ropes or whatever—"

Adolin made a choking noise. Kaladin kept looking at the little river pattern in the table. If he squinted there were mountains and farms too.

"—all that stuff isn't more or less...unappealing. To think about. Then just regular sex." Kaladin paused. "That is not permission to talk about that sort of thing with me. Please don't share anything about your sex life with me, ok?"

"Of course!"

"We know."

"So," Kaladin continued, rubbing his cheeks to try and get rid of the blush. "Wanting someone isn't breaking your vows. Neither is thinking about them. Probably talking about them is fine too."

He ran his finger along the small river in the polished stone. He could practically feel two sets of light eyes drilling a hole in him.

"My concern, of course, would be for Lin. If playing around with their image would affect the real person. My main concern is it will impact the way you two interact with them."

"If we thought it did then we'd stop immediately," Adolin swore without prompting. "The real person matters far more than our...baser feelings."

"Absolutely," Shallan agreed softly. "We truly don't want to hurt them. That's why we've been struggling with this."

"I believe you," Kaladin said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Alright, so you've already been...thinking about them, while together, and it hasn't impacted your interactions with the real person."

"No!"

"Trying not to think of them that way was worse," Adolin said ruefully. "I am...fairly sure they have not noticed any feelings on my part, and even if they had they've ignored them very politely so...like I said, if messing with lightweaveing changes that, we'll stop right away, but I don't think it will. We know who they are."

Kaladin studied the marble some more. He was pretty sure he had flown over somewhere in Alethkar that looked a bit like that riverbend, but he couldn't remember where.

"You cannot do this anywhere someone could possibly see or overhear," Kaladin said, looking up to make brief, serious eye contact with each of them. "Not visiting another city. Not where guards or servants could overhear, even trusted ones. Not in the duelist preparation chamber — yes I know about that. Not while exploring the less used parts of the city — yes, I heard about that too. Not in your sitting room or against the door, where someone passing by could overhear. Just in your own bedchamber, door locked."

"That sounds reasonable," Shallan said, flushing but solemn.

"Very reasonable," Adolin agreed, nodding sharply.

Kaladin grimaced, looking back down at the table. "I think...while part of me says you should ask Lin directly...that also sounds somewhat humiliating for everyone involved. I mean, again, it's more similar to thinking about someone than anyone else, and even if they were, er, flattered... It's not like you would actually be able to sleep together anyway, with your marriage oaths, so it would be a moot point."

"...Right," Adolin said unconvincingly. Kaladin decided not to think about that.

"So... it's alright?" Shallan said hopefully. "With those conditions? Not dishonorable?"

Kaladin forced himself to look up again, and immediately regretted it. They both looked far too eager.

"Not dishonorable," he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back.

"Thank you!" Adolin said, with way too much passion.

"Thank me by never speaking to me of this again, and never asking me anything like this for the rest of our lives."

"Yes to the first one, no promises to the second," Shallan said gleefully. "Well. Now that we've discussed that matter, how about we get back to talking about—"

"Leave. For the love of all that is good, please leave," Kaladin begged, not opening his eyes. Shallan took advantage of this by kissing him lightly on the cheek. Adolin hugged him from the other side.

There was the sound of spheres tossed on the table and rapid movements, and then they were gone.

Kaladin opened his eyes, shaking his head. One of them had knocked over a glass in their haste to leave. They had, of course, left a small fortune to pay the bill.

He left the winehouse feeling...bemused mostly. Maybe he'd go find Rlain and they could gripe about humans and mateforms together. He would probably not make eye contact for Lyn for the next week, even though he was fairly sure they were talking about Isnah or Beryl. Best not to guess. He kicked off from the ground, the rush of wind immediately clearing away discomforting thoughts or lingering stress of the day.

He smiled, speeding up and feeling his heart race with the exhilaration that only the sky could bring, with no pressing meetings or appointments to get to. Syl had been right. It was good to take a night off every now and again.

#stormlight archive #cosmere #stormlight fanfic #kaladin stormblessed #shockingly sweet and wholesome considering the premise #asexual/sex repulsed Kaladin Stormblessed #Prude kaladin Stormblessed #shadolin #unrequited feelings #nevertheless writing #oathbringer spoilers #nevertheless cosmere #deliberately vague time period but maybe probably post book 5.#Shallan and Adolin are such trash. I love them.#if anyone feels like betaing this for ao3 posting send me a message

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some-pers0n · 4 months

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I was poking around my older writing and found this piece. It's okay enough to share, I think.

It's about Whiteout and Listener. I do not like Listener. I remember writing this when I was a little grumpy over some people on the Wiki fawning over Clearsight/Listener. I'm a wee bit of a hater, no? So I just kinda zeroed in on her calling Whiteout "Weirdout" and, yeah, here we are. Ableism warning.

Whiteout was all by herself in the art room, painting a landscape. It was coming along quite nicely as well. She remembered visiting the Sky Kingdom with her mother and brother when they were both young, taking in all of the sights and smells. It was unforgettable to see the tall spires that pieced through the clouds or the trees that spouted like mere weeds from the ground.

She was inspired by it, wanting to make it a permanent memory. Even after the school day was finished, she'd stay in and work on her project. Her teacher, Lightweaver, was perfectly fine with it all. Whiteout was a good dragonet.

While she didn't enjoy school all the time, it was safe in the art room. She wouldn't be bothered for how she would speak and how loud the others could be at times. She adored painting at home, but with...recent events happening she found it being more peaceful here.

It was perfect. Alone and completely absorbed into her work, doing everything to make everything as neat and tidy as possible–

"Uh, Whiteout?"

A new voice. She recognized it, her mind immediately covering that pitch and tone into a taste. A lemon, acidic and not too great on its own.

Ignoring her knee-jerk reaction, she looked over towards the NightWing.

"Good afternoon, Listener," she greeted.

The dark red dragon looked around the classroom. "Wow, is it always this empty?"

Whiteout titled her head, confused by the question. "It's... after school hours, is it not? I'd be the only dragon in here."

"I know, but there's nothing of note. No books, signs, anything. Kind of bland, except for the paintings, of course."

The two dragons stared at each other, both not daring to make a sound. It was awkward and tense for the hybrid, unsure of what to say or how to respond.

"So, Clearsight wanted me to ask something from you. It's Darkstalker's hatchingday and all that's coming up."

"And my own," she said.

"Yeah, I know, but Clearsight asked about Darkstalker. For some reason he couldn't ask him herself and wanted me to come to you for these questions. Makes no sense, right? She could just ask him for what he wants."

"Clearsight likes surprising him," she said. "I would also say that she likes having choices chosen for her at times rather than stressing over what to say to get my brother what he wants. It would ruin the surprise too if he was asked for what he wanted."

"Yeah yeah, right. You say that as though both of them could be surprised by anything."

Whiteout turned from her work, fidgeting with the paintbrush in her talons. "So... you came to ask me what he wanted for his birthday?"

"Just anything he likes, that's what she asked for. You're the dragon he knows the most after all, more than his own girlfriend. Surprising for how he's constantly hovering around her and his need to be there for every choice she makes."

Whiteout let out a small sigh, hoping she wouldn't notice. "My brother likes wearing jewelry from time to time. Earrings, rings, I believe he's told me about liking crowns."

"As expected with him..."

She bit her lip. "He also likes blankets. Him and I get cold a lot and he feels comfortable under them. He describes it like getting a hug."

"Alright, blankets and jewelry? Is that it?" Listener asked.

Whiteout wanted to say more, but what she wanted even more was for her to leave. "That's about it."

"Dragon of few tastes, huh?" She scoffed. The two stood silently once more, Listener leaning over to observe Whiteout's painting.

"Wow!" she whispered. "Are those the Claws of the Clouds?"

Caught off guard by the sudden question, she looked back at it as if to confirm. "Yes. It is."

"That's really cool," she said, walking over to admire it more. "It's like it's really there."

Delighted by the compliment, yet confused by how she was acting. "Thank you," she mustered.

"Though, it looks like there's a couple smudges here and the trees aren't the best... Plus those dragons don't really have eyes or scales yet."

"It– it's still in progress... I'm not done with it yet."

"Oh, sorry! You're super talented though. You're a very special dragon."

"With... my painting?"

"Yeah yeah! W– with your painting and such. Really great artwork, mh-hm. Is there...never mind, it's a dumb question."

Whiteout just looked at the ground. "Well, uh... thank you."

"Yeah no problem! Thanks for the question. Now you can get back to... drawing your thing."

She stared at her paintbrush. "Thanks..."

And with that, just as quickly as she came, she was gone. A small conversation, yes, but one of many with her that felt... off.

Disingenuous, even with her compliments. She had an aura to her that radiated a certain feeling, one that told her that she didn't exactly see her as one another.

Then again, being called 'Weirdout' a lot when she was younger made her true feelings more clear.

That same lemon-like feeling with her never faded or gotten sweeter. Perhaps she gotten better at hiding her feelings.

But, she was used of it. It stung, but she's come to accept it now. This is who she is. She's the dragon who speaks weird and, despite not talking about it much, thinks and perceives things in 'abnromal' ways.

So, with a heavier heart, she turned back to her painting. The unfinished flaws were more apparent now, but she felt less motivated to fix it. A part of her almost wanted to just... scrap it entirely.

Yet, she held up her brush and began to paint again. Just like everything else in her life, she pressed on, hoping for something better to happen by the end of it all.

#wof #wings of fire #wof fanfic #whiteout wof #listener wof #SP-writing

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shallahi-and-snowflake · 5 months

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Hello! Sorry about the roughness of my blog, I mostly just used this one for lurking before I ever thought to get in on anything.

I’m Shallahi Ksheh Bah-Teft, I’m… around… Nanish-er, that’s 20 years old, I think? (Years, months, days, and hours are different where I’m from.) (UPDATE: it’s closer to 22.) I’m human (mostly), Thaylen/Alethi, but I have longer eyebrows than most half-Thayleni. (I’m a Luxray Hybrid now, as of 2-29-24.) Yes, long eyebrows is a weird thing here. I tend to wear them over my ears, if that’s a good image to use as a metric.)

(Update: Apparently I’m Luxray-kin? I just figured it out, so…)

I’m from Kharbranth, also known as the City of Bells. I’m a Knight Radiant (something like a “Chosen” for a smaller, less powerful being. I’m of the Sixth Order, a Lightweaver of the Fourth Ideal as of 1-23-24), a Worldhopper (a “Faller” with more agency in where they go, basically), a collector of stories and knowledge and a lover of food and adventure!

I thought I was 6-foot-something, but I’m closer to 6-and-a-third of this world’s feet in height.

I use she/it/fae, and by your standards of gender, I would be transfeminine. (I transitioned by accidentally taking in an entire lamp’s worth of Stormlight, so no need to worry about HRT access, thank goodness. It’s such a shame that others can’t just breathe in magic and—poof! Be properly aligned to their Spiritual aspect.)

I may say words that don’t make sense to you, or don’t fit in the context you’d use them in, that’s just a consequence of the mixing of my own vocabulary and knowledge that I took with me here, me learning new words and assuming their meaning, and the Connection tricks I use to help learn new languages.

I said I was a Worldhopper earlier; don’t worry, while yes I might steal away to Scadarial or elsewhere for a bit, I’m making this world with weak storms, static grass, and colourful fluffy creatures my home. Like Shinovar but with more colour and less ksenophobia!

Now for you, Snowflake!

Mmmmm…

Ah! I am called “Snowflake” or “Snowy,” (She/Her) and I am a Patternspren or Crypticspren. A spren is… mmmm… a small fragment of a God. Not your gods, mind you. I am bonded to Shallahi, who you have already heard from. This world is strange to us. There is no Shadesmar, no Cognitive Realm that we could find. This means that I am just a Pattern on a dress or other form of clothing. I am dictating my words to Shallahi. Mmm… unfeminine.

(SH: Don’t listen to that stupid old book, it’s full of lies.)

I like lies. You know this.

SH: Then why let those lies dictate your life?)

Mmm… I am called Snowflake because that is how my Pattern looks. This is everything I can think to say.

I sign asks as ❄️.

I have a ton of siblings from Bridge Four, and also Oppy @freeroaming-curiosity is my sister!

Malkah (@faller-of-kharbranth) who just Fell here recently, is also my sister now!

Mrrrp!! I’m Shallahi Ksheh! I use she/her!!!

I’m Ishev—fourteen—Rosharan years old, and a Shinx hybrid! I’m… an alternate version of the Shallahi y’all know! Basically, I’m her kid sister!! I wanna be a Trainer!!!

I sign my asks as -Shallahi The Shinx Kit ^•w•*^

SALUTATIONS. I AM HER MAJESTY THE DUSK QUEEN LUNALA, THE PSEUDO-PATRON OF SHALLAHI.

My name, should you need it, is Nyx, and I use she/he/it/moon pronouns.

Should I send any asks, I shall sign them with -Her Majesty, the Queen of Dusk, Lunala.

Rose @hisuianhellion is MY GIRLFRIEND AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH!

I have 12 kids:

• Sword @sword-of-injustice, who talks like this. (Your pronouns.)

• Crystal @crystalclearribbons, who doesn’t live with me. (She/Her)

• Vivillon @shinx-oh, who also doesn’t live with me. (She/her)

• Fox (Eevee), who lives with Vivillon. (He/him)

• Illanero @zoruascanbetrainerstoo, who is the Champion of Hoenn and Kalos!! (All, but mostly xe/xem)

Xe usually travels with Cresselia/Zrosenza @moondreamscape. (she/it/dream)

• Svirak-Daughter-None, a Squawkabilly (She/Her).

• [Zeradin, a Zebstrika] (They/He).

• <Zan, a Dwebble> (He/Him).

• {Vinette, a Joltik.} (She/It).

• Palana, a Natu (She/Him)

• Navari, Eevee/Axehound hybrid, egg obtained from Quasar ( @rogue-nebula) (She/her? Hatched. Unknown.)

Here’s my Trainer Card:

Annoyingly, there are very few darker-skinned Trainers with blue eyes in the options. Nessa(?) here is the closest I could find.

I have a Venipede friend named Kjrni!!!

Pelliper Mail is ON!

Same with Musharna Mail!

Don’t be afraid to ask me stuff, serious or silly!

In fact, don’t be afraid to be goofy with your asks.

Magic Anons are ON, but FILTERED!

Current Arc: Arc Shash (on hold sort-of).

Previous Arcs: Purifying Waters Arc, Time Heist Event, Rotomblr in Wonderland, Lightweaver Luxray, Robot Rescue, Mini-Arc: Curse Of Angy Teen, Muse Mixup Madness (Get PMD’d), Mini Arc: Pokesona Time!

//No proshippers, no TERFs, no NSFW stuff. I don’t really want drama, I just want to have fun. Oh, yeah, also, POTENTIAL COSMERE SPOILERS!

//Sentient Pokémon are A-OK to interact, if previous reblogs haven’t made it clear.

//Self Insert Fallers and Branded are also clear to interact.

#Shallahiposting #svirak squawks #Zeradin Reports #Zan speaks #Snowyposting #Vinette!#Palana pops in #Oppy!!#Rose! <3 #Gtet!#Crys-kit!#Viv-kit!#Kitty (Viv-kit!)#Fox-kit!#Illanero!#Maddie! ^^#dusk queen lunala #Navari!!#Malkah!

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jollyinteractive · 6 months

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DashingDon Demos

Here's a short list of some demos I've read recently. Enjoy!

A Cage of Mist and Shadow- Author J. Koch(no known link). Fairly short demo, MC plays as a god-like being that is defeated in a final battle, only to wake centuries later bound into servitude. Seems to be abandoned.

Outsiders-2019- Authors: @Snowpanther & @Nathan_Faxon (COG forum). Very short demo, MC plays as a child and is introduced to a world where people with supernatural abilities are called "Outsiders". MC becomes one of these. Forum not active since 2019, still listed as a WIP.

Soulmates Inc- Author: @soulmatesinc-if Fairly short demo, MC plays as a human who works for Soulmates Inc. You have powers at your disposal to do your job- arrange for two soulmates to meet. Story is a WIP.

Lightweaver: Chosen- Author: @dakimomoe. Fairly short demo; MC is a young adult with a shrouded, traumatic past. Story begins with MC gaining abilities and joining a magic school. Story is a WIP.

Chains of Destiny- Author: Notlev (COG Forum). Fairly short demo; MC plays through their first few years of childhood as a member of a powerful family. MC is in danger for unknown reasons. Demo is mostly lore and world building. Currently a WIP.

#choice of games #dashingdon #hosted games #interactive fiction #WIP

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transtundras-fr-archive · 1 year

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Why did Skamöld kill the Icewarden?

Many presumed hubris, a desire to become divine, maybe some misplaced ambition. After all, that’s what drove Auros to slay the Lightweaver and Shadowbinder. It’s only fair to assume the same for any other Godkiller. That was not the motivation for Skamöld, however.

Skamöld was an old tundra by the time he took up arms. A retired knight for hire, he had traveled much of Sornieth before settling down in his homeland. He had successfully raised several hatchlings, all whom were exalted to the service of the Icewarden. He did not complain or fight back when they were chosen for service, simply bowing his head and allowing the course of politics and service to run. When his children’s bodies were returned, he buried them quietly on the family’s plot of land, and carried on. A seed of resentment was planted in his heart, but what more could he do? He was only a tundra, and an aging tundra at that. At least, at the time, he had his beloved, Kvartr.

Kvartr was a nature dragon, and while they never raised any children, their love was as strong as the Behemoth’s trunk. Kvartr was a nature mage, and a powerful one at that, who used their magic to help grow crops during the brief summer months in the Snowsquall Tundra. Also known for their beauty, they caught the eye of many fellow residents, but remained faithful to Skamöld.

One such suitor was a Gaoler named Ordim, who belonged to the prestigious Sentinel Order. Many times she offered her hand to Kvartr, but each time she was rejected, as Kvartr had no more room in their heart for any other. Ordim could not comprehend why they would choose Skamöld, a retired knight with a blind eye, over herself, who had the Icewarden’s favor.

Beyond embarrassed after being rejected, Ordim hatched a plan to keep Kvartr to herself. Knowing the tundra was a powerful mage, she falsely reported that they were shadetouched. In the middle of the night, Skamöld was rudely awakened by a trio of gaolers led by Ordim who came to arrest Kvartr. Once again, Skamöld bowed his head, believing that Kvartr would be rightly released soon after. He did not fight as they were taken away, and encouraged his beloved to comply.

That was the last time he saw them alive.

The Fortress of Ends is not kind to non-native dragons, especially those from the tropical North. Without warmth and proper insulation, Kvartr wilted like a plucked rose. They died in a month’s time. Ordim made up a lie that a Shade infection took their life, but Skamöld could smell the truth.

Now he was entirely alone, in an empty house with his children buried just a few yards away. It finally hit him, what the Icewarden and his rule had taken from him. His family was gone, and all that was left was his frozen heart. Taking up arms, he left his home with no intention to return, and set off across the Reclaimer’s Glacier.

Word of his quest spread, and soon he found himself in the company of several others who had lost loved ones to the icy walls of the Fortress. Skamöld at first was skeptical, but could not deny that it was more comforting to match towards death with a friend or two. At first his only goal was to challenge Ordim, as while his disdain for the Icewarden grew, he thought it impossible to take him down. Then came word of the unthinkable. The Lightweaver was dead, only furthering the resolve of the company. If one god could die, surely any could.

However, scouts had reported the company’s approach long before they arrived. When they finally reached the grand gates of the Fortress, a horde of Sentinels were waiting, led by Ordim. Stepping in front of his company, Skamöld spoke,

“Great Order of the Sentinels, we have come from afar to reclaim our honor and to fight for the lost souls of this Fortress. We wish no harm upon your ancient kind, for our business lies beyond your hold. Step aside, and we shall have no further quarrel.”

Ordim replied with a scoff, “Oh petulant knight, old age has skewed your sense of reason, but then again tundras have never been known for their intellect. We have our orders to eliminate you all, any survivors to be locked forever next to our most dastardly horrorbeasts. Turn back, lest you face the might of the Sentinel Order!”

Skamöld’s company shifted with unease, as most of them were smaller than the gaolers standing in their way. However, the old knight was not deterred. He took another step, drawing his ancient sword that had been forged by master smiths of the Magmablood Rebellion.

“Ordim, grand sentinel, if you are so sure of my weakness, then agree to this— a duel between us to the death. Should you win, my company will retreat with no intention to return. Should I win, your Order will step aside and allow us to pass to the Icewarden’s frozen chambers. What say you?”

Ordim laughed, a cold laugh as the frostbitten winds whipped her fur. She bared her claws, her horns gnarled and teeth savagely sharp, though even sharper was her pride.

“Very well then! Step forth, whelp!”

Unbeknownst to the gaoler however, this was precisely what Skamöld planned. Like a bull moose Ordim charged, gnarled antlers aimed to impale the tundra and swiftly end the duel. Clamping his sword in his mouth, he stood his ground, and at the last minute before she rammed him, he stepped aside, using his blade to cleanly slice off one of her hefty antlers. She screamed, less in pain and more in dignity as her antler fell to the barren ground. Snorting, she aimed her icy breath at him, sending a hail of sharped shards raining down on him. One sliced his horn, breaking it in half and piercing his ear, but this did not deter him, hiding behind his shield. When the barrage ended, he used the window to charge close, knowing she was out of breath. She swiped at him with her massive claws, this time slicing his shoulder, but still he did not fall back, using this to distract her as he slid under her and embedded his sword deep in her gut.

Her wails were piercing as he twisted his sword, deep crimson pouring down on him. He removed his sword and backed away as she fell on her side, her eyes darting around with fear. Skamöld approached once more, sword aimed.

“You fought well, but it seems this half blind, dumb tundra bested you. May the afterlife greet you fairly.”

With those words, he plunged his sword precisely into her neck, death instantaneous. A hush fell over both sides, neither quite knowing what to do. Skamöld panted, catching his breath, his silver fur stained crimson. He turned his gaze to the remaining gaolers, as if silently challenging them to step forth if they dare. From his company, a pearlcatcher stepped forth, pacing up to the line of Sentinels. She regarded them all, small and armed only with a crossbow. Slowly, like melting glaciers, the gaolers moved aside, creating a path to the front door…

#I’ll write the second half eventually #but I’m pretty happy with this!#flight rising #fr #my lore #skamold #tw death #tw blood

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pomme-secret-blog · 5 months

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Celestia

The Lightweaver

In the royal nest, a single bright egg was abandoned. It shone brighter than any other in the kingdom, and it would hold the future of Luminax in its paws.

From that egg, a small pearlcatcher emerged. Named and raised by the Trinity, Celestia didn’t know how it felt like to have parents. It’s not like she minded too much, however. Her servants looked after her and the Trinity made sure she was never harmed.

Being the sole heir to a kingdom that doesn’t accept you isn’t easy. Ever since the beginning of time, Luminax has been led by imperials. Celestia’s very existence went against everything the kingdom stood for, and she was aware of that.

All her life, Celestia was the target of hatred and bitter words. Very rarely did she have to worry about opposing groups and factions, because the real threat she had to face came from within her own kingdom.

Celestia often wept in her room while her teachers thought she was studying. She always gave her best but it was never enough. It didn’t help that in these moments of distress, her magic started to flow.

Sparks of light, a brightness that didn’t let her sleep at night. She had known then, that she existed to prevent another catastrophe from happening. Luminax had fallen because of the magic that pulsated in the dragons of the past—what would be of her kingdom if she had it within her, too?

Prejudice towards magic holders runs rampant in Luminax. If her subjects ever found out that their future queen could harness Light magic, a revolt would take place, and Celestia wasn’t sure if they’d be able to rise again if something happened.

Prudence helped Celestia bottle up the magic inside of her. On one hand, the public’s opinion about her slowly got better with each decision she made. But on the other hand, the light that overflowed within her made it hard for her to sleep, she was plagued with visions she couldn’t comprehend and often had seizures.

Celestia was crowned during a Summer Solstice. It was the longest day of the year, where dragons all across Sornieth gathered to watch her coronation. After years of bottling up magic without ever letting it out, the light within her exploded and when she opened her eyes, they were glowing.

Dragons were scared, angry and demanding that she was dethroned. Tired of their demands, Celestia used her knowledge to trick them.

Celestia declared herself the Lightweaver, the very embodiment of the light Luminax represented. If the light chose her, who were they to deny her? They couldn’t accept what she said, but they couldn’t deny her, either. They were afraid that her magic would make Luminax fall for the last time, but they were also afraid of what would happen if they spoke out against her.

What was once sadness turned into bitterness and anger as Celestia founded a new order within her kingdom: the Lightseekers. They would search and silence dragons those who had magic, preventing them from harming the queen and ensuring the safety of her subjects.

It’s difficult to say whether or not that was a good decision, much less if her subjects approved it.

They hated magic, but the queen harnessed it as well. She claimed to be chosen by the light itself, but she couldn’t prove that—well, neither could they, but their opinion mattered as well, didn’t it?

Celestia isn’t a monster, and she hates it when they call her that. She is the most merciful queen, but also the most tired.

#flight rising #fr #region: auraboro #celestia

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whiteclericmaris · 1 year

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Greetings BEINGs and welcome to a 'pick a card' reading. Today we have 3 asherim (the bear arts) to choose from. Before we begin on the reading cleanse your beings by praying to GOD to cleanse your wavelengths. Take a deep breath and exhale all the lower wavelengths from your SOUL. Are you feeling refreshed? Here we go.

Welcome pile #1 to your current divination. You chose an asherim that is in close to the biome of forest. Thy pin also has some flowers. You are getting in tune with Hashem. Beware your oaths pile #1 as they are heard by our Father in Heaven.

You may also be going through an emotional outpour. Acknowledge thy emotions as they will help in thy sailing in the sky during the rapture that is progressing.

From an angel oracle deck we have "Don't let others stand in your way" and "Yes". If you have been debating over a path or decision to take the answer is to go adhere it. And the bible verse reads: "And now dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admireable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise." - Philippians 4:8

T'is time to let the emotional outpour out of thy BEING! Feel the light of GOD around you and guiding you each second. Show your gratitude at BEING! That is all pile #1. Go forth and chase God!

Welcome pile #2 to your reading. You chose an asherim that is grounded and has the way of a clerical teaching. Thy pin also looks beckoning thy essence to venture forward in the karmic lessons the Earth has to teach thee. Get in touch with unicorns and the holy spirit.

From an Angel Oracle deck we have "You've met someone important in your life" and "It's time to take the lead". You are being called to abjudicate and hearken to the callings of GOD! There is also a bible verse from Proverbs 31:25 "She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future." Adhere to God's light and know HU is your Father with lightweaving.

Welcome pile #3! You have chosen an asherim that is close to GOD through service and rituals. The keychain above even holding the earth in between their hands. I received a clairvoyant message of the BEING holding a sphere in their arms. You are being asked to bring forth your spiritual gifts and be of service to others.

From an angel oracle deck we have "Someone needs your help." and "You are good enough!" Don't doubt pile number 3 when it comes to your essense. One BEING can make a Big difference. Know that you are surrounded with love. Petinence is imminent for all. From the Bible we have the verse: "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven." Ecclesiastes 3:1

You are being called to repent for thy sins and start acknowledging the calls. Petinence is required of you. Know that GOD sees and bears witness to all. Grow stronger pile #3

#pick a card #witchblr

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lightweaver-chosen-if · 1 month

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MOODY.INK | DASHINGDON | FORUM NEWEST UPDATE (01/04/24)

You still remember it.

Burnt into the back of your eyelids like a scar.

The orphanage.

The cold, lifeless, barren gray walls. The creaky wooden floorboards that groaned and moaned in each step.

A place you used to call home.

But you escaped.

Perhaps in your new life at Launwyce Academy you could start anew, find a way to heal the invisible scars on your soul.

For now, all you can do is walk forward.

One step at a time.

Lightweaver: Chosen is an upcoming modern fantasy IF for 18+ players and older. Use of elemental powers is inspired by Avatar: The Legend of Aang/Korra.

A world where elemental deities share a fraction of their powers to their chosen, bringing upon the age of weavers; humans with the ability to manipulate the elements of their patron.

You have been chosen by a mysterious lightning deity—blessing you with the power to weave lightning. But with a troubled childhood haunting your every step, your new abilities present a double-edged sword.

The choices you make, the support you receive, and the inner strength you harness define your journey—a journey fraught with anguish, but one that promises a life outside Mother’s grasp.

Two divergent paths lay ahead.

Will you let yourself heal and grow, or will you fall deeper into the void?

Play as a touch-averse customizable MC with a troubled past, male or female.

Learn how to use your newfound lightning powers to its fullest potential. Anything’s possible if you’re smart enough!

Use your powers for good and be admired. Or use them to become a menace in society and be feared.

Participate in Launwyce’s many academy events and competitive tournaments. Show the weaving world what you’re made of.

A potential pet has also chosen you as its human; teach it a trick or two!

Shape your MC’s personality however you want. Certain choices also help shape the rest of your past.

How the MC deals with their trauma is entirely up to you.

Push away or make new relationships. Everyone has their own inner demons you can unveil.

Character-driven narrative and slow burn character development.

Eventually face the monster from your past, Mother.

3 different endings to branch into!

Luna/Leo Bancroft | 18 | Fire Weaver | Freshman | A’s childhood friend If MC is shorter than L, they’re shorter than all ROs

They were the first to notice you falling.

A warm and gentle soul. But there’s a certain air about them, the kind that makes them seem untouchable. It’s a type of muted cheer, one that carries the tension of maintaining a persona, but perhaps not a façade.

Despite their unusual aura, they’re attentive and smart, not to mention remarkably insightful.

Alice/Alec Langley | 18 | Water Weaver | Freshman | L’s childhood friend If MC is taller than A, they unlock height choices for J

They were the one who made sure you landed safely; and with flourish.

Behind their snark lies a certain vulnerability, hidden by a layer of frost and caution. You suspect that they wear the act like a mask; even if the flecks of passion flickering beneath the surface reveal a fiery heart.

They’re quick-witted and equally sharp-tongued. They never hesitate to speak their mind.

June/Juno Patel | 19 | Earth Weaver | Sophomore If MC is taller than J, they’re taller than all ROs

Ever present on their features is a stern expression; jaw set and eyes sharp. Even with little words uttered, they carry themself with confidence that demands respect.

Their intimidating presence often gives people pause, but those who dare meet them head-on will find a stubborn and proud spirit that refuses to yield.

Surprisingly, they’re easy to read, and it makes interacting with them oddly satisfying.

#repost #if wip #lightweaver: chosen #dashingdon #interactive fiction #choice of games #hosted games #if #interactive game #interactive novel #interactive story #choicescript #hog #cog

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