#never see the sun and wield an axe

[chyarui]

Thorin Oakenshield man. The hobbit trilogy is pretty mid but DAMN. Saying this as a lesbian, Thorin is fineee

And Bilbo is a very lucky Hobbit ;)

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I absolutely love love love Roman!König! Thank you so much for this blessing. 🖤

Also, not sure if our Titan can read, but let’s just imagine he can:

In my head, König would definitely sleep with an old, worn out German edition of "Die Kunst des Krieges" ("The Art of War") by Sun Tzu along with a dagger from his hometown under his pillow. He probably doesn’t have many priced possessions, however these are some of them. (The other is Fee, of course)

I just had to share this, because he made me think of Alexander the Great and the "Iliad plus dagger under the pillow" is one of my favourite history facts.

…just picture Fee's expression, when she finds them…

Lots of love!

Sorry this is from ages ago but aaaaahhh! I think Roman!König can read somewhat because he knew how to explain the travel guides to Fee! He'd appreciate the Art of War for sure if he ever got his hands on it.

He's far more intelligent than any of us think, but sadly there's no one to listen to his ramblings about military tactics or single combat or how dual wielding axes differs from dual wielding short swords like the Roman gladius :( If Fee could speak his tongue, she would have to listen to some of his monologues, accompanied by a display of his vast skills with different weapons (he's trying to woo her for the rest of his life, just in case)

The book I imagine he'd keep under his pillow would be Germania by Tacitus. He'd keep it as a reminder to never trust Romans and their interpretation of the world. And a dagger is a man's best friend, but König can kill assassins with his bare hands too if it comes to that! One of the reasons he used to keep a knife under his pillow was to see if Fee tried to murder him with it. It would've made a nice foreplay... :) (@wordstome shamelessly winking at you and your most recent fic here 💕)

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 29

Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

Season three is here!!

The sounds of dry snarling surround us as Rick kneels at the base of the fence, taking a pair of bolt cutters to the wire, snipping it open. Maggie brings her axe down on the skull of the nearest walker with Glenn's help, Dad jamming his knife into another's eyeball just a moment later. The bodies drop into the grass. Rick peels the fence back for us to squeeze through, with his sights on the treeline behind us.

My Dad makes it through first, helping Rick brace the wire apart as the rest of us follow after him, one by one.

I step into the gravelled walkway, suddenly up close and personal with the prison. My fingers tighten around the hilt of my knife, a faint sense of excitement rising from my toes to my scalp. It ain't Buckingham palace, but it sure feels like it. The yard sits just on the other side of the fence, so close yet so far, stretching on for what looks like the length of I'on even know how many soccer fields. The grass is green, green like a pasture on a milk carton. Walkers stumble around, with nothing better to do than bake in the sun. It's kinda beautiful.

"Hurry," Rick's hissing, just as T-Dog and Mouse bring up the rear; the last to slip through. "That's it."

I share a glance with Carl at my side, who's grinning cheesily under the brim of his cowboy hat.

"So cool," He says.

"Okay. That's everyone," His Dad grunts. "Close it up."

They replace the wire door. Glenn jumps in and starts knotting it back together with a spool of red wire.

As he's securing the last loop, a walker crashes into him through the fence. He jumps back just in time. It grabs a handful of nothing, reaching after us as we turn away from it, jogging down the walkway, slow but steady. All the walkers in the field are coming up to the fence to gawk at us, growl at us as we pass by. It's like we're the new guys in town. Are we gonna take all of them out? Can we?

We make our way through the open gate up ahead, gathering in the main gateway area.

The sun beats down on us, sweat slipping down my neck.

"It's perfect," Rick's smiling to himself as we come to a stop behind him. I think he's right. The dirt road we're standing on leads underneath the vehicle gate, all the way up the hill and comes to a stop at another, smaller gate which is open. It's letting the walkers wandering around in the concrete courtyard have free reign of the field. Not good. There's a guard tower on every corner of the yard, overlooking the place. We ain't never had guard towers before. I can see Rick getting all amped up, just like the rest of us. He turns, wielding his machete like a pointer in a class discussion. "If we can shut that gate, prevent more from filling the field, we can pick off these walkers."

I try to count them. But once I get past ten, I remember it don't matter. We can do anything.

"We can take this place by tonight," He gestures.

No more sleeping in the car with Dad and Mouse, wondering what that noise in the trees was. No more running.

"So, how do we shut the gate?" Herschel starts thinking. I know he don't exactly love sleeping in the cars, neither.

"I'll do it," Glenn offers, squinting against the sun. "You guys can cover me."

Maggie shakes her head. "No. It's a suicide run."

"I'm the fastest. It makes sense."

"If speed mattered, Glenn, we'd be sending Harley in," Rick scoffs, tryna be funny. "She's the fastest."

I know he's only tryna make a point, but I can't help but think there's no bother. I am the fastest. I'm the smallest, I'm the youngest, and I'm the weakest, but I'm also the fastest. They saw how I ran outta camp that night at the quarry, how ain't nobody was able to catch up with me for a good five minutes. Ever since I got those keys at Thanton Memorial, I been wanting to do more.

"Why not?" I ask honestly, even though we've been through this before. "Why can't I help?"

My Dad turns a look on me. "Harley, baby, save it. You know the hospital was different."

"Yeah, but—"

"Mind yer mouth, girl. I said it ain't happenin'."

To soften the blow a little, Glenn adds, "Maybe some other time, you can help, okay? But... not now."

"Not now," Rick agrees. I done asked them so many times to let me help out. I ain't surprised they're brushing me off again. It's what they do whenever Carl does the same thing, but I'on know why. I got two hands. I'm smart. I can help. "No. Harley, you, T, Glenn, Maggie, and Beth can post up along this fence line, draw as many as you can away from me and pop 'em when they get too close."

I suck it up. I got no business arguing with them right now. "Okay. M'sorry."

"That's alright," He placates, before dolling out more instructions to the rest of the group.

Herschel and Carl make for the tower to our left, while Carol and my Dad make for the tower to our right. That leaves Rick standing in front of the main gate, hyping himself up to make a run for the courtyard. It reminds me of the day we crossed that frozen river.

"C'mon, Harley," Glenn grabs my hand, ordering Mouse, "Stay there, boy."

He leads me over to the fence line with the others, where he takes up a position next to me.

"You got your gun?" He checks, as Maggie and Beth start hollering at the walkers behind him.

"Hey, over here!"

"Hey! Hey, come here!"

Nodding, I unholster my small pistol as he holds out his palm to me.

Routinely, I pluck out my hearing aids and hand them over, the silence enveloping me. He stuffs them in his pocket.

'Okay,' He signs, 'Start shooting.'

I click the safety of my pistol off. As I line my sights up with the closest walker on the other side of the fence, I see Rick slipping past the main gate and into the field. If that were me in there, I'd be dodging and weaving 'em just like in a soccer game.

Focus, Harley, I scold myself, pulling the trigger. The lady-walker's cheek explodes onto her shoulder.

When I pull the trigger again, her entire head explodes, limp body collapsing like a sack of sand.

Rick continues making his way up the hill, hauling ass with a slight jog. The walkers around him are dropping like flies. Every chance he almost gets to shoot one down, somebody else does it for him. A crossbow bolt pierces their forehead, a bullet from one of the towers rips through their face, or they're turning their heads, lured the opposite direction as they catch wind of us folk at the fence.

They're pilin' up quickly, now. Quicker than we can shoot 'em down.

It's time to holster my gun, brandishing Merle's knife, instead. Rearing back, I stick the blade into the knee of a walker sidled up to the fence. It wobbles a little, its leg twisting, folding in half under the dead weight. Crouching down, I stab its leaky eye.

Warm, curdled blood spurts up my arm, and it's fucking disgusting, but I pull the blade out and carry on.

Taking down the next walker, I glance up to try and spot Rick. Where is he? Is he alright?

There he is. He's almost there; almost at the gate.

Right then, the ground in front of him is shot to pieces, the pebbles flying all over the place like he's stepped on a mine.

He skids to a stop, looking up at Dad and Carol's tower in scolding. Carol gives a little shrug as she reloads. Whoopsies.

Shaking it off, he finally approaches the gate. He takes the wire in his hands, kicking one of the walkers in the stomach and sending it onto its ass as he drags it closed, hooking some metal clips onto it. Once it's secured, he makes a dash for the closest tower.

He disappears behind the metal door. Thirty seconds later, he appears at the top, waving down to us.

'He made it,' Glenn signs to me, his hands bloodied.

'Are you okay?'

His expression softens. 'I'm okay. Let's finish them off.'

'Let's do it.'

With Rick outta the way, it's easy pickings; shooting ducks in a barrel.

The walkers keep dropping, one by one, sometimes two by two, until there's only one of the bastards left standing.

Everyone holds their fire for a moment, as if we're asking each other, Who wants the honors?

We watch Rick lift his rifle, peering down the scope. It could only be him. We all know that. It takes him only half a second to shoot a bullet into its head, and then its legs give out and it's the last to slump into the grass, leaving the field completely still. We did it.

Glenn hands me back my hearing aids, and the first thing I hear is Carol exclaiming, "Fantastic!"

"Nice work, chicken," Dad praises as they step out of the tower, ruffling my cropped hair.

"I killed five, Daddy," I brag a little bit, sheathing my blade as we make for the main gate. "That's, like, half of ten!"

"I know, I saw. I's thinkin' to myself, 'Is that Jackie Chan Junior down there, or what?'"

"Who the Hell's that?"

Glenn just laughs. "Never mind."

"Are you okay?" Carol asks Lori.

"I haven't felt this good in weeks," She sighs as we enter the field.

Holy shit. I know I said we did, but we actually took the place. We did it. All in the matter of an hour, we went from wasting away on a random highway to having an entire prison yard to ourselves. I chase after Carl as he runs ahead, squealing and holding my arms out, like I want the wind to hug me back. This is more than just cool. This is incredible! It feels like we got the whole world again!

"Oh," Carol laughs from behind us, "We haven't had this much space since we left the farm!"

T-Dog cups his mouth and calls out, "Wuh-hooooooo!"

I copy him, screaming, Wuh-hooooooo!, as I run myself around in circles. "We did it!"

"She's gonna drive herself dizzy," Maggie laughs, "Messin' about like that."

"Let her," Dad says as they walk past me, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"We did it!"

"Mmm," Glenn hums, sucking the meat offa the little bone in his hand. "Just like Mom used to make."

He throws it into the fire, knocking a piece of wood over and sending a flurry of embers floating up into the stars.

It's safe to say I ended up tiring myself out this afternoon. It's strange to be worn out, but not from fighting for my life or because I haven't eaten in days. I'm just a kid who's had too much fun. Sitting next to Carl on an old blanket, I peel off a bit of stringy meat with my teeth and chew it as I gaze out at Rick's small figure in the distance, pacing the courtyard fence line. I ain't sure he had any dinner.

This is it, though. This is the place he was talking about for all them months. It turned out to be real. I wish I could say I never doubted him, but there were some nights I thought we'd be on the run forever. I thought he was just spouting nonsense. There weren't no place for us to live like we wanted to, somewhere for us to call home. The work ain't done yet. We still have to get inside the prison. But with the warm night air sitting around us, and the sky twinkling over our heads, I'm happy to stay like this for just one night, even if Rick ain't. He's been at that fence for what feels like hours. He's like that dog again, sniffing out a bone he can't quite reach, not just yet. I wish he'd rest.

"Tomorrow, we'll put all the bodies together." T-Dog muses, absentmindedly petting Mouse.

I stop watching Rick and remember to swallow my mouthful, going in for another bite.

"Wanna keep them away from the water," He continues. "If we can dig a canal under the fence, we'll have plenty of fresh water."

"The soil is good," Herschel adds. In the light of the fire, I can make out the pinkish burn the sun has left on his face. It reminds me of my own sunburn, but it only stings a little. "We could plant some seed. Grow some tomatoes, soybeans, cucumbers."

"Eugh," Carl mumbles. "Tomatoes..."

Herschel's gaze drifts over to the fence line, then. He seems to remember Rick. "That's his third time around."

Everyone spares the man a glance, but only a glance.

"If there were any part of it compromised, he'd have found it by now."

"This'll be a good place to have the baby," Beth chirps, changing the subject. Rick's always a tricky one. "It's safe."

"The prison or the yard?" Lori jokes, idly cupping her belly. "At this rate, the baby might come tonight."

Wiping the grease from my lips, I muse, "Back in Sharpsburg, my Daddy said ya might let me name the baby."

"Oh, yeah? What would you pick?"

I give a bit of a shrug, taking another bite, 'cause I ain't given it much thought. "Sum' like... Bob."

Glenn humors me, "And if it's a girl?"

"Uhh... Bob...-ette?"

"Sure." T-Dog deadpans, shaking his head and chuckling. "If you want it to hate you for the rest of its life."

I throw my bone into the fire as Lori says, "We'll see."

That's adult language for, Not in a million years.

"Harley?" Carol asks me from across the group. "How's your Dad feeling about being in a place like this?"

I know what she means. A prison.

"I ain't asked him, yet."

She treads carefully when she asks, "It wasn't... It wasn't this prison, right?"

"Nah. He went to Arrendale State Prison." Nobody ever knows where that is, so I add, "It's kinda near Tennessee, I guess."

"Well, at least, there's that," Says T-Dog. "Imagine the world ending, only for you to end up in the same prison again. Woof."

I stick around for a couple more minutes, finishing off some more of the barn owl meat and baked beans, but after a while, I let everyone know I'm gonna go talk to my Dad for a bit. I know if I don't bring him some food, he'll end up going hungry for the night.

"We'll save your spot for you," Glenn tells me, instead of getting up to escort me like he usually does. It's safe here.

Grabbing a bowl of food, I stand from the blanket and cross the field, stepping up to the overturned bus.

I look up. "Uh... Dad?"

His face appears as he leans over the side, meeting my gaze through the dark. "Oh. Hey, babe."

There's a small problem. "How am I gonna get up there?"

"Well, ya climb."

"Oh. Thanks," I mumble, rolling my eyes at that remarkably unhelpful tidbit. I step onto the tyre, grabbing some sort of pipe on the undercarriage, and try to get a good foothold on another piece of metal, but it's too hard. I pull away. "Ugh. Dad. Help."

"I'm only playin'." He chuckles, setting his crossbow aside and laying on his belly. "C'mon. I gotcha."

Reaching down for me, he effortlessly catches me as I jump for his hand, pulling me up next to him.

"There ya go."

"Could'a done that in the first place," I point out, taking a seat by his side. "I brought'cha some dinner."

Bathed in the moonlight, his brow crumples as he frowns, eventually taking the bowl from me. "You ate?"

"Yeah. Makin' sure you get some, too, 'fore T-Dog eats it all."

"Thank you, baby."

"Ya welcome," I shrug, swinging my feet back and forth. "Carol's wonderin' if you're okay, bein' back in a prison and all."

Spooning some food into his mouth, he garbles, "Lady's almost as brown-nosed as Dale was."

"Well... I'm wonderin', too."

Something about my quiet admission gets him to actually answer this time. Swallowing his mouthful, the bump in his throat bobs up and down before he sucks in a big breath and lets it all out again. "I'm fine," He says, "'Sides, we ain't actually inside, yet."

I guess not. "But we will be."

"I said I'm fine, baby." He insists, biting down on a big piece of meat so he can pretend he can't say anything else.

My Dad ain't never talked much about his four and a half years in Arrendale State Prison, but I do know that when he came back, he slept on the porch for nearly a whole month afterwards because he couldn't stand being in his own bedroom. There were a lot of things that were better than they were before he left us. Like how he appreciated every meal, even if it was just a cheese sandwich. How most mornings, I'd wake up to him stroking my hair and just looking at me. But there were a lot of things that were worse. Enough to matter.

I overheard him telling Merle once that the guards used to beat on him extra, because they knew he wouldn't fight back. He had me to get home to. He couldn't afford to fuck up and add more months or years to his sentence. They all used to beat on him.

I don't want Dad to think I see him as a pussy or nothin', so I tell him, "I know. I's just makin' sure."

"I can tell ya what, though," He scoffs, slinging the bone over the fence, "I ain't gon' be sleepin' in no fuckin' cell again."

"I'm sure they got proper bedrooms somewhere in there, right? Like, for the guards?"

Holding back some bitterness, he tells me, "No, chicken. They don't."

"Oh. Well, we can just sleep outside or somethin', then."

"Ain't you been nagging everyone about wantin' a real bed to sleep in?"

Yeah. "But—"

"Well, you're sleepin' inside, then." He decides. "I want'chu to have that."

I want him to have that too, but I ain't gonna win that argument. So, I just agree. "Okay, Daddy. Fine."

"Jesus. We're already hashin' out terms," He jokes, "And we ain't even made it inside the courtyard, yet."

"We're positive thinkers!"

"You definitely are, ya silly monkey." He picks up his crossbow and slings it on, standing up. "C'mon. Let's head back, now."

"Okay. But only 'cause I miss the fire."

He climbs down first and helps me down afterward, catching me and setting me on the grass. We make the walk back together.

"Bethy," Herschel's saying as we approach, "Sing Paddy Reilly for me. I haven't heard that one, I think, since your mother was alive."

Maggie gives him a tense look. "Daddy, not that one. Please."

"Well, uh... How about Partin' Glass?"

My Dad and I sit down on the blanket as Beth shyly protests, "Nobody wants to hear."

"Why not?" Glenn asks, putting on a small smile.

There's no real reason not to, so she gives in. "Okay. Daryl, do you know that one?"

"Yeah." Maggie chirps, some of the sadness that was weighing her face down disappearing. "You can play us through it."

"I can try," He corrects her, before he gets back up and heads over to the cars near the gate, grabbing his guitar from the backseat.

As I notice Carol sending me a questioning look, I feel myself trying not to glare at her. "Don't ask him about it."

Understanding, she nods to herself.

When my Dad returns, he settles the guitar in his lap, looking at Beth.

She only hesitates for a moment or two before she opens her mouth, and the words that come out are some of the prettiest I ever heard. Slowly, my Dad adds a few strokes of the strings here and there, before he starts to get a real feel for it and pieces something real lovely and quaint together, something I think most people wouldn't think he'd ever be able to make, but he's just as gentle with the chords as an artist would be with his canvas and paints. She sings softly about spending her days in good company, memories she can't recall.

T-Dog lays with his arm resting under his head, gazing up at the stars as the melody flows over him.

Lori and Carl sway side to side, Maggie fondly watching her sister as she holds Glenn's hand.

She joins in singing at the passing of the next lyric, and it's obvious they prolly used to do this a lot when they were my age.

Herschel looks into the fire, a picture of peace.

It even lures Rick over from the fence line after a minute or so. He sneaks in while nobody has the opportunity to make a comment about how long he's been over there, sitting next to me and Carl. I pass him some leftovers, too, before he can weasel his way out of it.

"Thanks, honey," He hesitates to say as he takes the bowl, despite himself.

"Good night and joy," The girls duet, "Be with you all. Good night and joy... Be with you all."

Dad strums a chord one last time, finishing the song off.

"Beautiful," Herschel decides.

He sets the guitar on the ground, sending me a fleeting smile.

"Better all turn in," Rick clears his throat, reminding me of where we are. "I'll take first watch. We got a big day tomorrow."

Glenn frowns, "What do you mean?"

"Look, I know getting to this point has been a lotta work," He sighs, looking from one person to the next, studying the exhaustion on their faces. "This was a great win, but we've gotta push just a little bit more. Most of the walkers are dressed as guards and prisoners. It looks like this place fell pretty early. It could mean the supplies are intact. They'd have an infirmary. A kitchen. Commissary."

T-Dog jumps in, asking, "An armory?"

"There'll be one nearby," Dad guesses. "Can't risk havin' it inside, 'case a riot breaks out and some John Doe thinks he's Rambo."

"Makes sense."

"This place could be a gold mine," Rick exclaims.

I can tell he ain't got nobody on the hook with this idea, except maybe Dad, and me. Sure, I'm tired. I'm only eight but I could sleep for the rest of my life. That don't mean I ain't eager as all Hell to see what else this place has for us. Hell, I'd do it tonight.

Herschel is the first to speak up. "We're dangerously low on ammo. We wouldn't even make a dent."

"That's why we have to go in there," He says like it's obvious. "Hand to hand."

Alright. He really weren't kiddin', then. Tomorrow is a big day. Even bigger than this one.

"After all we been through... We can handle it."

Early the next morning, I notice slight movement from across the fire as I'm poking at a tin of leftover beans with a stick.

Carl lifts his head from the blanket, blinking away sleep like a dazed frog. It looks like a coyote came along during the night and got into a brawl with his hair, but I know it's just 'cause he had a good night's rest under the stars, feeling safe. There's nothing like it.

Clicking my fingers at him, I draw his attention.

'Want some breakfast?,' I sign, knowing my hair prolly looks just as messy, even if it's barely longer than his.

Yawning, he stands from the blanket and comes to sit next to me in the grass.

'You kicked me again,' I tell him while we wait for the beans to warm up, the smell of smoke and fresh dirt on the breeze.

'I did?,' He frowns.

'Yeah. In your sleep. I think you broke a bone.'

'That sucks. Put in your—.' He gestures to his ear.

Keeping a little scepticism, I dig into my backpack and fit my hearing aids in.

"What is it?"

"Drama queen," He enjoys saying very loudly into my left ear.

Startled, I smack him away. Ugh. Walked right into that one. "Seriously? You ain't gettin' a single bean, anymore."

He just giggles to himself, sitting back on his palms. He thinks he's a real comedian.

Apparently, by this time tomorrow, we'll all be sat up in one of them cell blocks together, living the life. Looking at the buildings now, I take notice of the giant letters painted onto the sides of the cement walls, the shambling masses of walkers on the ground, unaware of the birds on the fence watching them with stalking eyes, waiting for one to succumb to its weight. I can only imagine what's on the inside.

I'm reminded of Carl when he suddenly contemplates aloud, "Man. I hope it won't be like the CDC."

Turning to look at him, my heart gives a little kick. The CDC? What's he mean?

"Or the farm," He adds, but I'm sure it's not an afterthought.

"It won't be," I say almost forcefully, offended he'd even think that way. "Don't say that, Carl."

"Sorry," He mutters regretfully as he sits upright, resting his elbows on his knees. "You're right. Forget I said that."

I know I should prolly take a page outta my Dad's book at this moment. Whenever there's uncertainty ahead of us, or somethin' awful has happened, he don't spout some empty promise. There might come a day where he's made himself a liar. Instead, he says something like, We'll try our best, or, There's nothin' more we can do. I always find the insignificance comforting. I know as sure as I do that the sun's gonna come up tomorrow, he's telling the truth. You can't be let down when you're dreaming in the dirt to begin with.

I don't think I can bring myself to say them things right now, not after everything we did to get here.

Besides, I'm in the dirt no matter what I say.

"None of that matters." I try and convince him. "Everything's gonna be like we hoped. This is our second chance."

"Third chance," He corrects. "Technically."

"Whatever. Even better. Third time's the charm, ya know."

He turns a suspicious look on me, like I've just done something bizarre. "You're being, like... positive."

"I'm a positive thinker," I tell him, just like I told my Dad last night.

"Since when?"

"Um... Since yesterday. I think."

That makes him giggle. "Okay. But, you need to say something negative. It's weird when you don't."

Obliging, I drawl, "You's a sour-faced scaredy cat, Carl, and I'on like the way you think. Makes me wanna punch yer lights out."

He can't help but let out a snort-laugh. "Thanks."

"Ya welcome." I watch him as he gazes out at the prison buildings for a moment, before I ask, "You believe me, right?"

He glances at me. "Do you believe you?"

I was kinda hoping he would answer first. "Well... Yeah."

"I do, too, then." He says, much to my relief. "Even if you did sound like my Dad just now."

"Who the Hell's burnin' beans this early in the morning?"

Our heads whip in the direction of my Dad's voice. He's sitting up, rubbing at the pink indentations of grass on his neck. Oh, right. The beans. Grabbing the stick, I poke the tin outta the way of the smouldering ash and blow the thin smoke away from it.

It clears, revealing the perfectly saucy, not-burnt beans. The smell draws Mouse from his slumber.

"Uh. Nobody," I quip. "Want some?"

"Nah, babe," He groans, scratching the dog behind his ears. "You have 'em."

"What about me? Do I get some?" Carl asks as I grab a spoon. "I'm sorry I scared you before."

I don't hesitate to pick up a second one, handing it to him. "I'on care. Here."

"Thanks."

Dad frowns at him. "You scared her?"

"Oh, uh. Yeah." The boy admits, sensing he might be in trouble. "I kinda shouted in her ear. It was dumb."

"Ease up on that shit a little," He chides. "And don't let me catch you doin' it."

"Sorry, Daryl."

"I'on care," I reassure Carl again, spooning beans into my mouth. My Dad's just protective. Sometimes, it can feel like I'm less of a daughter and more of a pet, but he's always been like that. Especially after I lost my hearing, and especially when he's stressed.

After everybody else has woken up and the beans are long gone, Rick announces, "Let's do this, then."

The courtyard is just as much a massacre as the field was.

The birds perched onto the fence fly off as soon as the first blood is spilled.

I drive Merle's knife into the walker's rubbery kneecap, twisting it around the bone, feeling some sorta crack, and finishing it off with a stab to the brain when it falls against the fence. Pulling the blade out from between the pink mush and browned skull, I watch them who's inside the courtyard make their way across it in a tight formation, lashing out at any walkers that get too close.

When they make it to the undercover area, all five of them skid to a stop.

They back themselves up against the wall, hiding from the sea of walkers just around the corner.

As they linger there, a couple sets of body armour stumble out from behind a dumpster. Wait, not armour. Walkers wearing armour. The only way to tell are the fingers poking out from under the sleeves, their arms raising as Dad tries shooting a visor.

The bolt ricochets off the plastic, landing somewhere in the piles of trash.

"Hey! Walkers!" Beth shouts, rattling the fence. "Over here! C'mon!"

"Over here!"

"Hey, ugly!" I shout at the walker closest to me, luring it in and stabbing it in the soft part of its knee.

When it falls over, Carl deals the finishing blow with his lead pipe.

"Thanks," I lilt, breathless.

The group realizes they ain't gettin' through that armour. In good old, Hand to hand, fashion, as Rick called it, they start charging at them. My Dad wrestles one up against the wall, grabbing its helmet and ripping it off, rearing back, bludgeoning it into the walker's face until it turns to mush, drops to the ground. Glenn slashes another's neck in two, kicking it away from him in a spray of blood.

When the opportunity strikes, Rick runs for the far gate, pulling it shut and securing it with more clips.

Maggie struggles to keep a big brute offa her, before she drives her knife up its nose.

The walker's blood freckles her face as it falls.

She's completely beaming. "See that?!"

Glenn and T only have a few seconds to be impressed, turning to hack down the next walker that approaches them.

Then, finally, the courtyard falls still.

Letting out a sigh, I sheathe my knife and grip onto the fence, watching the group talk amongst themselves in the wake of all the bodies. They point to a few of them, shake their heads some. I expect them to reconvene with us, but instead, they walk off.

"What's going on?" Lori wonders, as Rick and my Dad very carefully open the door to one of the cell blocks.

After a tense moment, they all creep inside, weapons drawn.

"They would only go in there if they thought it was safe," Herschel reassures us all. "We just have to trust them, and wait."

Carol glances at me and Carl. "You kids okay?"

"Don't worry about me," The boy says, while I just give a simple nod.

The next time the big, red door opens, Maggie appears and jogs over to us, pulling the clips off our gate.

"C'mon, y'all." She drags it open, that beautiful smile still plastered on her sweaty face. "Let's go get our things."

Her Dad asks, "You cleared it?"

She's already halfway down the hill, grinning at us over her shoulder. "We sure did!"

Wearing my backpack and clutching my soccer ball to my stomach, I follow everyone into the cellblock.

The dark, damp-smelling corridor stretches on for a while, lazily opening up to a huge, even damper-smelling room. I come to a stop with everyone else on the concrete platform, peering up at the sickeningly tall ceiling. Bands of sunlight drain in through the barred windows all the way at the top, too far outta reach for me to catch a glimpse of any of the greenery I know is on the other side.

"Nice, right?" Maggie smiles, right before a dead walker body falls from the second storey railing. Eugh.

It lands with a splat, T-Dog taking its ankles into his hands to drag it away.

Definitely no Buckingham Palace, alright, but like I said — Compared to being on the road, it might as well be. 

We continue on into the cell hall, taking it all in as Rick plods down the rusty stairs. "So. What do you think?"

"Home sweet home," Glenn muses.

"Home sweet home," He agrees, stepping onto ground level.

"I love it," I exclaim.

He laughs, his face covered in grime and sweat, but happy; very happy. "I knew you would."

Lori wonders aloud, "It's secure?"

"This cell block is."

Still eager to find out more, I ask him, "What about the rest of the prison, Rick?"

"We'll find the cafeteria and the infirmary in a few hours," He nods, hands on his hips. "Gotta clear the bodies from here, first."

Okay. "Can I choose a cell?"

"Sure, go ahead. S'all yours."

A girly sigh. "We're sleeping in cells—...?"

Behind me, Beth sounds disappointed with the idea, but I don't mind. When ya think about it, a cell is just a bedroom with a funny door. I step into the first one I come across that don't got any walker bodies laying up in it, and sit down on the bare mattress, bouncing on it a little. A smile creeps onto my face. A bed. A real bed. Mouse jumps up next to me, seeming just as pleased with this discovery.

"We did it, Mouse," I mutter happily, setting my things down on the bedside tray. "It's home sweet home."

"Knock, knock," Beth sing-songs, as Carl peeps out from behind her. "Wanna bunk together?"

Nodding straight away, I gasp, "Together-together? All three of us?"

Mouse stares at me with that sweet, empty-brained look of his.

"The four of us, I mean?"

"It'll be like a sleepover." She smiles, placing her blankets on the bed. "One of us will have to take the floor, though."

"I can do it," Carl offers, tryna play the gentleman. Gross. Before Beth can protest, he's scurrying away to grab another mattress.

"You want the top bunk or the bottom bunk, Harley?"

"I want the top bunk," I decide, pulling my blanket outta my backpack and climbing the ladder. Crawling onto the cold mattress, I splay the blanket out and give the limp pillow a few punches and a hearty shake, in an effort to fluff it out a little bit. "Perfect."

Underneath me, Beth exclaims to herself as she sits down, "It's actually— It's actually comfortable."

"Got one," Carl announces as he walks back in, stumbling around with a mattress in his grasp.

"Can you even see around that thing?" I tease.

"Yep," Without much care, he dumps the thing on the ground, proudly dusting his hands off on his hips. "There."

Rick saunters up to the door then, leaning against it as he smirks at us. "What are you guys doin'?"

"This is our cell," I chirp.

He shakes his head. "You kids are ridiculous. Don't you want your own space?"

"Nope," All three of us answer at the same time.

"Let me know how long that lasts," He drawls, looking the cell up and down.

Hopping down from my bunk, I follow him outta the room and climb up the stairs, finding my Dad at the top. He's got two mattresses laying on the floor of the perch, his blanket splayed out across the both of them, crossbow leaning against the wall.

"You find a cell, yet, chicken?" He groans as he reclines on the makeshift bed, tryna get comfortable.

I kneel down beside him. "Yeah, I'm sharin' with Beth and Carl."

"All three of ya?" He quirks a brow. "How's that workin'?"

"Carl's on the floor," I try not to laugh. "It's a bit like the CDC, ain't it? When we first got there?"

"The CDC? Ain't like there's air-conditioning or hot water in this joint," He scoffs. "I ain't so sure."

"There ain't no bombs, neither, so I'll take it." I move to lay down next to him. We both stare up at the ceiling, even though there's nothin' up there, except for a few mishappen stains and scratches, like constellations. "Carl says it's like the CDC, too."

"Did he?"

"And the farm," I add, knocking my boots together. "But not 'cause of the air-con. 'Cause of... everythin' else."

S'true. I lied to Carl, when I pretended everything was gonna be fine. I might got a dirty mouth, but I try not to make a habit of dirtying it with anythin' other than a few swear words, especially not a lie. Third time's the charm. I'on even know what that means.

He turns his head to look at me, frowning the slightest bit through his hair. "You was so excited just yesterday?"

"I know. I still am," I admit, "But—..."

He waits a while for me to continue, but I just end up shrugging. The words are anchored down somewhere, won't come out.

Dad must get my meaning, though. "Harley, there's a whole world out there. If this don't work out, there'll be somewhere else."

"But I like it here."

"I know ya do. You can keep likin' it, too," He pinches my arm, "If ya stop thinkin' about what might happen to it."

"What is gonna happen to it?"

That's a question nobody ever has the answer to, but everybody's always asking it. "I don't know, baby. Maybe nothin'."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

I like that idea. Nothin' happening, ever, except for the sun rising and setting. "That's a lotta time to grow soybeans."

"Huh?"

"Soybeans," I repeat, smiling. "Herschel said last night he wants to grow some. Tomatoes and cucumbers, too."

"There ya go, then. Just think about them."

"Nah. I'll just get hungry."

My Dad sighs for a moment, studying the ceiling, before he props himself up on his elbows. "I'mma get some fresh air for a bit."

"What?"

"Ya heard," He dismisses me, mumbling something to himself as he scoots off the mattress, something about suffocating.

He's only been in here all of five minutes. I watch him pull on his leather vest, grabbing his crossbow and slinging it over his shoulder, very obviously trying not to look at any of the walls around us for too long. I ain't sure how he's gonna make it through the night in here, if he can't even make it through an hour of housewarming, but there's nothing I can do besides keep my mouth shut.

As he plods down the squeaky staircase, somebody else climbs up it, bumping his shoulder.

"You alright, man?" Glenn frowns, hesitating on the next stair up. "Where you going?"

"Outside," He pointedly replies, not looking back.

"Well, I can see that."

"I'm just gonna trail 'round the perimeter for a while."

We listen to his heavy footsteps retreat, retreat, retreat, and then the loud clanging of the metal gate.

After sharing a sympathetic look with me, Glenn continues on without a word, leaving me to get up and retreat back into my cell.

End notes.

I'm so excited for this season! I set aside some time to plan it all out in my notes and I had a lot of fun doing it. It reminded me of the times I was brainstorming for season one.

I hope you enjoyed this introduction to the new season!

Kindly let me know what you thought! See you next time :)

[ivanwm-05]

If you don't see it as a problem. How would you rank the weapons and treasures that already has been shown?

This ranking would only be for weapons discovered so far in the story (Divine Arsenal route).

Weapons:

6. Gáe Bulg. (This one is more terrifying than powerful, hell I'd rather face any weapon in this list than be forced to fight someone wielding this)

5. Mater Tempestarii. (Summoning storms and controlling them at a whim should give you the full gist of how powerful it is)

4. Aegis. (Aegis is sturdy enough to not just tank attacks from the first two weapons, it can also counter an attack by reflecting the damage back at the attacker)

3. Excalibur. (It can cut through anything and can fire off light projectiles. It also has a psychic barrier that allows the user to be immune to psychic attacks of any kind, but it is limited to things that have a form)

2. Ruyi Jingu Bang. (Get the hang of it and you have a continental destroyer/potential planet buster on your hands. It is Sun Wukong's staff, not much explanation is needed)

AX of Pangu. (Reading its description in-game would tell you all you need to know, and even that long description doesn't touch the length of all it can do. However, at MC's level, they can only use it to open portals to teleport from one pace to another)

Treasures:

5. Monkey King's Earrings and crown. (Grants MC superhuman perception and mental fortitude)

4. Belt of Veracity. (Allows MC to see the true intent of all things, MC can't be lied to when the belt is with them)

3. The Talaria of Mercury. (Allows MC to fly and move twice as fast as a human being)

2. Eternal Flame of Prometheus. (They will never cease to burn and can never be put out, even when a being dies, the flames will burn their soul)

The Ashtamangala अष्टमङ्गल (This Sanskrit holds the knowledge of all things in the universe. Though MC doesn't know about that, nor how to use it yet)

[amethystpath-writes]

Weapons and Flattery

NOT A PR0MPT

“Stop swinging your sword like that. It is a weapon, not an axe.”

“An axe can be a weapon, too, soldier.”

“I could be a weapon if someone threw me hard enough. Throwing a body is not practical, though, so we use a sword.”

There was a pause, a flitting moment in which the princess thought to not vocalize what she was about. The moment was very brief and ultimately overturned, like the flipping of a coin.

“You are a weapon, looking like that,” she said.

The soldier was stunted, it seemed. Pained. “Are you calling me ugly, Your Highness?”

The princess tried her hand at swinging her sword fancifully. It clattered to the ground and she blushed. “No. Um, the opposite, actually.” Her eyes dashed to the ground, seemingly more interested in her feet. Or, maybe it was an instinct to hide her cheeks. “My- my books do not teach flirting.”

A smile possessed the soldier’s face, and he, unlike the princess, swung his sword in a skillful fashion. “I could teach you a thing or two.”

Well, she wasn’t sure how to respond to that either. The princess had never been given a proper chance to flirt, nor be flirted with. She began to wonder now what she was even doing. And better yet, why? It was bad enough she asked the soldier to teach her how to wield a sword. Now she was trying to flirt? Even admitting that that was what she was trying to do? 

Her actions couldn’t be from a place of interest; she hadn’t known him at all before she stopped him. Maybe it was fun. A man she hadn’t seen before- because the last one died. Maybe it was because he was new, and young, and she was curious, so she sought him out the way the adventures in her books taught her how.

“Well, Princess?”

Looking up, she noticed the soldier had also lowered his sword. The tip of it was embedded in the ground and the princess could see it was because he was leaning forward on it. She didn’t know much about weapons, but- “You will dull your blade like that, trying to look fancy.” Maybe this was how she could shut it down- now that she was having second thoughts.

“I can get it fixed later. Maybe it can give you a real chance against me for now?” His eyebrow lifted and the corner of his lips slid up as he looked to the princess with hooded eyes. It made his eyes stand out, being in the shadows like that. It was handsome, charming- but no. This was a mistake.

“I should leave. It is only a matter of time before my father walks out and finds me like this.”

Shrugging, the soldier said, “Do you think it will matter if he sees you in the act? Your skirts reveal enough. The king is smart- he would figure it out. If not swordplay, maybe something even more scandalous.”

The implication startled the princess. She gasped. “I would never.”

“I know that, and I am sure you do, but your father does not. At least if he saw you with a sword, he could never suspect that his little princess is rolling around in the dirt.”

She had heard of princesses like that, sneaking off in the night and having their fun. The princess didn’t think of herself in that way, but she realized, standing beneath the blazing sun in a pit of sand, sword at her feet, that she was just the same. Perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing. It was exciting, even when she kept telling herself it should have never gotten this far.

“You would be in trouble if he caught you teaching me.”

“He would never get rid of me. I volunteered for this position.”

“How does that mean anything?”

“I was the only one to volunteer for this position,” the soldier corrected. “Your father is respected by citizens because of his title. They have to please him, or else they have no food, no land, no anything. The army, though, has a different bargain.”

Everything revolved around the king, as far as the princess knew. He controlled the lords, the lords’ people, the lords’ armies, and the lords’ lands. Of course, the lords had a say first, but any disputes were settled ultimately by her father, which made him bigger than this soldier.

“You are very arrogant,” the princess observed aloud.

He laughed. “Because I see truth? Princess, look at it this way. Your father might be the commander of every army in these lands, but when every soldier despises their commander, who would ever expect them to fight?”

It would make sense, truthfully, but the princess didn’t understand. “My father is loved.”

“Is that what he tells you? Your life is tailored to him.”

This was becoming too much. First, it was playing with a sword, then getting her dress dirty, then flirting with a soldier (not even a prince), and now she was questioning the likeness of her own father, the king. If the latter wasn’t betrayal, the princess wasn’t sure what was.

Sword fighting was better than considering her father was a bad king. She asked, “You are confident you will not be punished for teaching me this?”

“You called me arrogant earlier. The king will not touch me, and because of my rank, no one else will either.” A full-fledged smile captured his lips. “You haven’t come to fancy me, have you, Princess?”

“I could never.”

But then again, she’d thought that before, when risking to ask if the soldier would train her. She had built up the courage to even talk to him when he became her guard. For what? She wasn’t sure. He was younger than the last (much younger), and seemingly stronger with broad shoulders and a straight stance. He wasn’t caving in on himself, and maybe that was all it took to capture the princess’s eyes.

“Pick your sword up. I have a thing or two to teach you.”

******

Tag list: @faeruine 

To be added, comment on this post!

[ladywynne]

Freedom

Sansa Stark x Sandor Clegane

Freedom from Ramsay and freedom to choose who she wants.

Notes: Set after Theon and Sansa escape Winterfell. Sandor finds them on their way to the Wall. Sansa is a woman, not a little bird. She is savvy and traumatized at the same time. I haven't written Sansan in a hot minute so I hope you enjoy.

For Angstpril Day 19, Breaking Down.

CW: This is SFW. Mentions of past abuse. Implied dog death.

ASOIAF Masterlist

**************************************************************************

Sandor

Sandor was with Brother Ray’s community when he heard about Sansa’s marriage to Ramsay Bolton. The small family that had joined them at the fire that evening had no idea of the effect of their words. Before the sun had set Sandor was on his way North. He knew, despite their years apart, that Sansa would never agree to marry into the family that had betrayed her own with the Red Wedding; and if she didn’t agree then she was forced. Never again. A changed man he may be, but that only made his sins stand out all the more in his mind. Being complicit in her abuse was one of his worst, and he had never been able to erase Sansa from his mind.

In the end, Sansa escaped Ramsay on her own, with the unlikely help of Theon Greyjoy. When Sandor finally found them, they were nearly frozen and surrounded by growling hounds and brutal men. Sansa was backed against a rocky outcrop with Theon before her, wielding a torch. There was terror in Sansa’s face, and it was enough to make him see red, but there was determination too. As he watched she reached down to grip a large stone in each hand. He thought she wouldn’t be taken without one hell of a fight. So, the little bird had grown talons. Good.

He jumped from his mount and slew two of the bastards with his axe before they even knew he was there. Theon took up a dead man’s sword and helped, swinging clumsily but with grim intent at dogs and men. In a matter of moments it was over. Blood soaked the snow, and the remaining hounds had fled.

Sansa looked up at him, dropping her rocks as her eyes widened in recognition. He stepped toward her, wanting to reassure her, but before he could speak Theon stepped in front of Sansa. This close the size difference between the two men was almost painfully obvious. Nevertheless, Theon stood his ground, “I know you. Cersei’s Hound. Back away from Lady Sansa.”

Sandor would have laughed under different circumstances. The boy looked half-starved, yet when Sandor stayed his ground Theon raised his sword. Sandor took one step backwards, “I don’t work for the Lannisters anymore. The Lady has nothing to fear from me.”

Sansa gave him an appraising stare. She was thin and pale, but she looked him right in the eye. Then she stepped up to Theon’s side, touching his shoulder, “It’s all right Theon. He won’t hurt me.”

She took another step forward, standing tall, “Thank you for the rescue. Seems I’ve said those words before.”

“Aye.” No time for the past now. “We need to move. It’s not safe to linger here. This meat will draw back the dogs, and men as well.”

Sansa nods, accepting him without further questions. They mount on the Bolton men’s horses and Sandor looks at her. “Where are we going?”

“The Wall.”

Sandor simply pulls his horse’s head around, clicks his tongue at the animal, and they move out.

They ride hard for the rest of the day. Theon leads, as he grew up in the north, and Sandor takes the rear. Finally, late in the night, they make camp so the horses can rest. Theon glares at him when he moves toward Sansa with the intention of helping her off her horse, but strangely he doesn’t touch her either, allowing Sansa to slide off the mount herself, and only steadying her when her legs threaten to give as she lands. They aren’t near a road and after finding a place surrounded by boulders, they decide they can risk a fire. No one can see the smoke at night and none of them relish freezing to death. They drink snow and Sandor passes around jerky for them to chew on.

After a moment Theon stands. “I’ll take first watch,” He looks to Sansa. “Call if you need me. I won’t be far.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Theon nods and moves outside the ring of boulders.

Only the crackling fire breaks the silence for long minutes. Sansa stares into it, and doesn’t look up when she asks, “Why are you here?”

Sandor sees no reason to deny it, “I came for you. Knew you would never wed a Bolton willingly.”

If Sansa is surprised by this she doesn’t show it. “Why?” she asks again.

How can he explain it? That he has never stopped thinking about her. That he hates himself for what happened to her. It sounds foolish at best. He settles on a simple truth. “I want to help you. I should have done more for you, before.”

Sansa glances at him, and the corner of her mouth turns up, “So, you thought of me?”

Thought of her! Gods, if only she knew the countless hours he spent thinking of her. He thought of her as he lay alone at night, looking up at the stars. He thought of her as he decimated trees with his axe. She was his last thought when he was dying under that cursed oak. Arya… No. He would tell her what he knew of her sister soon, but not now. They have their own business to deal with first.

He takes so long in answering that she continues, “I’ve thought of you. Your voice, your advice has been with me. Thank you for that.”

He scoffs, “Don’t thank me, woman. I was a coward drowning in wine when you knew me last.”

She stiffens at his response and turns to face him. “Fine. You don’t want thanks. What do you want?”

Sandor meets her eyes, his voice deep and even, “I want to see you safe and well.”

“Safe and well?” Now it was her turn to scoff, “I’d say you’re far too late for that, ser.”

He doesn’t correct the title, taking it for the slight it was intended to be, and he turns back toward the fire ashamed. In truth he would see her more than safe. If the gods were good she would have been happy. She would have remained innocent; her pure, rare goodness untarnished by abuse and captivity.

Sandor is distracted by his guilt, but his head whips up at a tiny sound from Sansa. He is shocked to see her stony façade has cracked. Her hands are trembling where they lay in her lap, and as he watches tears pool in her eyes. Before he can stop himself, he moves to sit beside her.

“Who hurt you? I’ll kill them,” he growls.

*****

Sansa

She doesn’t answer. It all comes back to her. Littlefinger’s unwelcome touches; the fear, humiliation, and pain Ramsay brought. It is too much and Sandor is too near, the warm bulk of him recalling a security she hadn’t felt since her father passed. It was the safe and solid presence of a male who wouldn’t hurt her. She knows Sandor would never hurt her. He had the opportunity during the Blackwater and even drunk and frightened he didn’t do it. He offered to take her away. And Sansa feels herself giving in at last. She is so tired, and she has been strong for so long. Unable to mourn for so long. As the first hot tears run down her cheeks Sansa leans into him and presses her face against the leather of his shoulder. She feels him stiffen at first, but soon he draws his cloak around her shoulders and pulls her close as she cries.

After a time, Sansa wipes her eyes and lifts her head, but stays close under the cloak. “When we reach the Wall, Sandor, I would like you to stay.”

He tightens his arm just a fraction, “I am yours, my lady. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Sansa nods before resting her head against him once more, “Good.”

*****

Theon

When Theon hears a sob he stands abruptly, ready to die if he must, but the scene is not what he expects. The Hound, a man of fearsome reputation, is cradling Sansa gently in his arms. Sansa is actually allowing herself to be touched by a virtual stranger. He doesn’t understand. But if he has learned anything it is that he is a fool, so he merely turns back toward the darkness and takes up his watch again.

[ferrocyan]

✨️ basics about tart

name: c'astarhte kasvert

nicknames: tart

age: 22

nameday: 16th sun of the sixth astral moon (nov 16)

race: seeker of the sun miqo'te/ishgardian elezen

gender: transfem but currently male (she/her and he/him both ok lol)

orientation: bisexual disaster

profession: adventurer, captain of the maelstrom, the warrior of light

✨️ physical appearance

hair: dark blue, highlights dyed light blue/red/green, kept short and gelled

eyes: light green

skin: light tan

tattoos/scars: her cheek markings are tattooed, not natural haha, though as a male miqo'te the facial markings are natural. there are several scars:

- across the nose from childhood accident (tried to wield a sword at age 5. did not go well. has since sworn to hate swords forever)

- left corner of lips, got slapped by a goobbue and hit her head on a rock. rip

- right shoulder to middle of chest, bisected by odin's zantetsuken. died from this injury but was revived by a padjali white mage

- also middle of chest, stabbed by forgiven rebellion

- down both forearms, from blocking susano's ame-no-murakumo

- across the abdomen from zenos

✨️ family

parents: former knights of the dawn vigil. dad was a seeker of the sun miqo'te, current fate unknown. father is an ishgardian elezen, now works as a scholar and archivist in falcon's nest

siblings: none

grandparents: from father's side, both have died. from dad's side, still living somewhere in ilsabard. tart has never met them

in-laws and other: family friend tart calls uncle is a sharlayan scholar. as well as, uh, father's right hand man, of sorts, their trusted retainer and botanist crescenza (funnily enough these two are viera men)

pets: hunting hawk from falcon's nest, chocobo chargeburst, and many, many wind-up mammets

✨️ skills

abilities: tart is virtually the best at the discipline of warrior. her axe-wielding prowess and self-sustaining defense are top-notch. she's also got the chops to command the battlefield as a vanguard. aside from combat, she's great at creating and maintaining weapons. her trades of choice are carpentry and blacksmithing

hobbies: tart is very lacking at reading comprehension, but that just means she makes herself practice a lot. her favorite subject to read is romance: simple, predictable, tropey, some will say trashy, romance novels. she reads them out loud to herself to understand the contents. other than that, tart loves to take walks and enjoy nature, or craft little figurines and dolls to give away to kids. though most of her time outside of work is dominated by physical training. there are always further heights to achieve when it comes to combat prowess

✨️ traits

most positive trait: tart believes wholeheartedly in the value of self-improvement. she loves to see herself and other people become better versions of themselves. it makes her see the best in others and forgive their failings (and, very often, fall in love with them, haha)

most negative trait: tart is very self-centered. she tends to place her desires above all else (and make no mistake, being the warrior of light is very much her desire more than a duty) and when someone else "gets in the way" of them, tart will retaliate with full force

✨️ likes

colors: midnight/ink/abyssal blue, peacock/celeste green, dalamud/rolanberry red

smells: rain, coffee, citrus, all kinds of wood, reeq (he likes to wear rose-scented perfume ww)

textures: worn leather, polished wood, skin (reeq's hands especially)

drinks: mulled wine, lemonade, espresso con panna, all kinds of fruit punch and smoothies

✨️ other details

smokes: no. her father smokes and she can't stand it

drinks: yes, for warmth and in social situations. surprisingly low alcohol tolerance, she falls asleep when drunk

drugs: would enjoy them but doesn't want to get addicted. it would be catastrophic

mount issuance: chargeburst was given to her on signing with the maelstrom. he's an extremely violent bird which has to be dragged beaten and bloody out of fights, and even then charge still wants to maim and kill so so bad. tart has other mounts but they're not quite real animals, more like projections of elemental aether created from primal battles. her favorites are the rose lanner and enbarr

been arrested: unfortunately she's always been on the right side of the law. except for the time she assaulted jullus, but it's not like anyone would be so pressed to prosecute the warrior of light on behalf of a garlean

✨️ extra

tart is transmasc (sort of?) for now. as a treat. it happened after 6.5 so he/him tart is only after all of post-endwalker

[journeytothewestresearch]

My Changes to Marvel and DC's Monkey Kings

Sun Wukong has appeared in the published works of two major US comic book companies. The Marvel version is a queue braid-wearing crime lord from modern Beijing, China who is endowed with the powers and memories of the original Monkey King. He is a boastful, greedy, and thoroughly unlikable background character throughout his entire arc (2011-219), and his story ends with a rushed, pointless self-sacrifice during a battle. The writers involved were so painfully unfamiliar with the literary hero, that the abilities of his comic book counterpart are wildly inconsistent, even within the same issue of a single comic, and especially throughout his appearances in other storylines. Marvel's Sun Wukong is a prime example of people trying and failing badly to adapt a work from a culture that they clearly know nothing about.

The most recent DC incarnation of the Monkey King (2021-present) [1] has the benefit of Chinese-American creators, but it's still not a great adaptation. Sun Wukong is depicted as a staff-wielding, armor-wearing jokester even centuries after the journey's end, unlike the literary character which becomes an enlightened Buddha. And the main focus of the series, his son the Monkey Prince (here and here), is just a boring, inferior copy of the original, with the same exact abilities and weaknesses. His human mother is never mentioned (only adoptive parents), nor the reason why Sun would abandon his family. DC's Monkey King has largely been absent from the overall story as he was banished to the Phantom Zone by the New God Darkseid after a battle in heaven.

Here, I'd like to present the changes I suggested in my respective reviews of these comics. I feel they are far more faithful to the original narrative.

I. Marvel's Sun Wukong

(See here for background)

I would completely do away with the queue-wearing crime lord and replace him with a modern spirit-medium (Chinese: Jitong, 乩童; Hokkien: Tangki, 童乩; literally: “divining child”) from Chinese folk religion. Such individuals are believed to channel the spirit of the “Great Sage Equaling Heaven” (Qitian Dasheng, 齊天大聖), the celestial title of Sun Wukong. While inhabited by the monkey god, the spirit of the human host is believed to reside in heaven or some temple-based holy object (Chan, 2006, pp. 59-60; Graham, 2013, p. 330). Therefore, the person would be for all intents and purposes the Monkey King for the duration of the story. As a medium, the character wouldn’t wear a superhero costume. Instead, he would be bare-chested apart from a ritual stomacher (dudou, 肚兜) and a tri-panel dragon-tiger apron (longhu qun, 龍虎裙) over everyday pants and shoes (or no shoes). Such ritual attire is usually decorated with auspicious symbols and, sometimes, the Chinese name of the deity, in this case the Great Sage (fig. 1).

I would also like to make some changes that might seem weird for an adaptation of Sun Wukong. But I’m torn between pandering to the wants of comic book fans and my desire to portray an authentic East and Southeast Asian spirit-medium. The former would involve the character wielding the magic staff, but in the case of the latter, I’ve noticed that few mediums involve the polearm in their public performances. Those who do only use it to enhance the theater of their portrayal of the Great Sage. The weapon serves no ritual function. The latter would involve the character wielding the “Five Treasures of the Spirit-Medium” (Jitong wubao, 乩童五寶), a set of ritual weapons consisting of a spiked ball on a rope, a spiked club, a sawfish nose sword, a crescent moon ax, and a double-edged sword engraved with seven stars (fig. 2) (Chan, 2006, p. 73). Mediums use these weapons during a ritual dance in which they inflict wounds on their body. This self-mortification is believed to serve two purposes. One, holy energy from the weapons help the medium prepare “for a particularly difficult battle” by “supercharg[ing] him with spirit power” (Chan, 2006, pp. 108-109). And two, the resulting holy blood—for it is considered the blood of the god, not the host—is believed to have demonifugic properties. It can be used to write paper sigils commanding heavenly forces to attack demonic spirits (Chan, 2006, p. 108). Now, I’ll admit that this would no doubt be off-putting to the average comic book reader. So herein lies the dilemma. The only compromise that I can think of would be to use them both but more so in one case and sparingly in the other. An enchanted brass pole, like those used by Great Sage mediums during performances (fig. 3 & 4), would be the character’s main weapon. But when he runs into trouble, he could summon the aforementioned treasures to “supercharge” himself, and, if needed, he could draw blood in order to call on heavenly forces. This leads me to my next change.

Fig. 1 – An entranced spirit-medium wearing the stomacher and apron (larger version). Picture taken by me in Tainan, Taiwan. Fig. 2 – The “Five Treasures of the Spirit-Medium” (larger version). Found on Facebook and slightly modified. Here, the original biological sawfish nose sword (photo by me) has been replaced by two modern, metal, single and double-edged versions. Fig. 3 – An example of a brass pole used by Great Sage mediums (larger version). Fig. 4 – A detail of joss paper and joss sticks attached to the pole (larger version). Pictures taken by me in Jiayi, Taiwan.

Despite the Monkey King’s immeasurable strength in Journey to the West, I wouldn’t want to make the character an unstoppable powerhouse like, say, the Sentry. I would instead make him moderately powerful for a few reasons. First, there’s no fun in an invincible hero who one-shots all his foes; there has to be some struggle in order to make the character more interesting and relatable. Second, spirit-mediums only protect their local community and, therefore, not an entire country or planet like more powerful characters. And third, there are many Great Sage spirit-mediums across East and Southeast Asia. What’s interesting about this concept is that each medium is believed by their respective communities to be the Great Sage. For example, one very small temple I visited in Taiwan has an astounding seven Great Sage mediums. This means that, if a particularly nasty evil befalls the earth, an entire army of Great Sages, who in turn command their own heavenly forces, can be called on to deal with the villain! This would not only be authentic, but also reference Sun Wukong’s magic power of creating endless doubles of himself. [2] And the best part? The story could follow a series of different spirit-mediums in different countries. So the “character” wouldn’t be limited to a single person. The medium could be Chinese, Taiwanese, Malaysian, Singaporean, basically any person of Chinese descent who practices spirit-mediumship. And they can be young, old, and even women, too. That’s right, there are female Great Sage mediums! (video 1).

Video 1 – A female Great Sage medium in Chinese opera-inspired attire.

II. DC's Monkey King and Monkey Prince - Part I

(See here for background)

I would do away with the Monkey King taking a Chinese wife centuries after he became a Buddha. Instead, the son could be born during the Tang Dynasty to Princess Iron Fan, the rakshasi wife of the Bull Demon King. Though seemingly impossible, there is precedent for this idea. An early 15th-century zaju play predating the novel describes Sun Wukong’s delight upon learning that the Princess is unmarried (Ning, 1986, pp. 139-140). He then resorts to seduction in an attempt to gain the iron fan needed to extinguish Flaming Mountain. For example, he recites a poem to her chocked full of sexual innuendo: “The disciple’s not too shallow. / the woman’s not too deep. / You and I, let’s each put forth an item, / and make a little demon” (Ning, 1986, p. 141). In addition, a 17th-century sequel to Journey to the West even describes the Monkey King having a number of sons with Princess Iron Fan. He faces one of his offspring, King Pāramitā (Boluomi wang, 波羅蜜王), during a final battle between all the armies of the world (Dong, Lin, & Schulz, 2000, pp. 123-124). In our story, the son could have been conceived during ch. 60 of the original novel when Monkey shares a tender moment with the Princess while disguised as the Bull Demon King (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, p. 144).

Being a half-monkey spirit-half-rakshasa demigod, I’d like to think the Prince’s base form would be more monkey-like. This would mean any lapse in concentration would cause him to revert to this state instead of a human form like in the original comic story.

I can already hear someone ask: “How can the Monkey Prince still be a teenager by the start of the story if he was born hundreds of years ago?” Well, this leads me to my next change. Instead of Zhu Bajie, it would make much more sense for his teacher to be the Bodhisattva Guanyin. After all, she tutors the children of several characters from the novel, including Muzha (木吒), 2nd son of Heavenly King Li Jing, and Red Boy (Hong hai’er, 紅孩兒; a.k.a. the “Child Sudhana”, Shancai tongzi, 善財童子), son of the Princess Iron Fan and Bull Demon King. [3] Already having a son under the goddess’ tutelage would make it easier for the Princess to send another child to learn from her. Also, Guanyin helped subdue both Monkey and Red Boy with golden fillets (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 316-320; vol. 2, pp. 251-252). Perhaps the Monkey Prince has a temper like his father and half-brother, so the goddess would make him wear Wukong’s fillet as it’s no longer needed once the latter attains Buddhahood (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 4, p. 383). Most importantly, the bodhisattva lives on the earthly paradise of Potalaka Mountain. The novel explains one day in heaven equals one year on earth (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 150 and 167). A similar constricting of time would no doubt happen in Guanyin’s holy land. Therefore, the Monkey Prince would still be a teenager even after hundreds of years have passed on earth.

Next, I would completely do away with the tacky superhero costume. As a disciple of Guanyin, he would just wear a monk’s robe, the golden fillet, and possibly even sport a tiger skin skirt (like his father) since he would technically be a heavenly guardian. There’d be no unnecessary logos, recycled costumes, or cursed sneakers. And the best part, this attire wouldn’t contradict the Monkey Prince’s hatred for superheroes, provided that was still a necessary plot element. Perhaps this hatred could be born from the fact that heroes like Shazam are given their powers (or happen upon them by accident), while the Prince’s abilities are the hard-won product of long years of spiritual cultivation.

My changes are less confident, however, when it comes to naturally fitting the Monkey Prince into existing canon. The first thing that comes to mind would involve the Shazam villain Sabbac, a hellish demon, causing havoc in Philidephlia’s Chinatown. Perhaps his assault could be related to the deplorable reports of Covid-related violence against Asians. A devotee of the goddess could pray to her in their time of need, and then the Monkey Prince is sent in her stead to exorcize the evil. But Shazam arrives while the Prince is battling the demon, and not knowing one from the other, he attacks them both. This might add fuel to the Monkey Prince’s dislike for Shazam.

I personally think the secret teen identity is a bit much. But if it is a necessary plot element, Guanyin could assign the Monkey Prince to watch over her flock in Philadelphia (and the rest of America?), and at the same time allow him to experience a slice of modern teen life. And, again, if necessary, we can borrow from the original story and have the Prince attend high school, where he feels drawn to Billy Batson because of his godly aura. A local earth god (tudi gong, 土地公) and his wife (tudi po, 土地婆) (fig. 5) could be tasked by heaven to act like his grandparents to keep up the appearance of a normal human family.

Fig. 5 – Religious statues of the earth god (right) and his wife (left) in my personal collection (larger version).

III. DC's Monkey King and Monkey Prince - Part 2

(See here for background)

I would do away with the Bull Demon King, Princess Iron Fan, and Zhu Bajie. Instead, the original heavenly army would meet the brunt of Darkseid’s forces upon their arrival. Playing off of the comic story, and acknowledging my own changes, Guanyin would send her disciples Muzha and Sudhana to take part in the battle. And taking more inspiration from the comic story, I would also have Erlang arrive but instead go toe-to-toe with Darkseid. The “Small Sage” (Xiaosheng, 小聖) is after all the only god to truly defeat the Monkey King, so he would be a worthy opponent. But lets say the invader somehow gets the upper hand, and so I would pay homage to the original novel by having the Jade Emperor call on Gautama Buddha to intervene. But he instead sends the Buddha Victorious in Strife, who obviously has experience with causing havoc in heaven. The Monkey Buddha shows off his power by easily nullifying the attacks of Darkseid’s army and even negating the omega beams by turning them into a shower of flowers, reminiscent of ancient biographies of Gautama Buddha:

The host of Mara hastening, as arranged, each one exerting his utmost force, taking each other’s place in turns, threatening every moment to destroy [the Buddha, but] … Their flying spears, lances, and javelins, stuck fast in space, refusing to descend; the angry thunderdrops and mighty hail, with these, were changed into five-colour’d lotus flowers…” (Beal, 1883, pp. 152 and 153).

I could borrow still more from the novel and have the Buddha Victorious in Strife make Darkseid a wager, recalling Gautama Buddha’s bet with Sun Wukong involving his cloud somersault. But instead of betting that he can’t leap from his palm, the Monkey Buddha makes a wager involving the boom tube.

This is where I run into trouble, though. I don’t know enough about the cosmic hierarchy of the DC universe to go past this point. I say this because Darkseid is considered a “conceptual being” that lives outside of time and is capable of creating avatars of himself (Darkseid (New Earth), n.d.). I’m not sure how this stacks up against DC’s concept of an enlightened being. But from a Buddhist cosmological perspective, I believe the Buddha would be more powerful because he has achieved “nirvāṇa” (Ch: niepan, 涅槃) and broken free of the wheel of rebirth (Buswell & Lopez, 2014, pp. 589-590). However, the New God, even as a deva capable of creating avatars, would still be subject to the “Desire realm” (Sk: kāmadhātu; Ch: yujie, 欲界) of Saṃsāra (Ch: lunhui, 輪迴; shengsi lunhui, 生死輪迴) (Buswell & Lopez, 2014, pp. 230-233 and 411). Therefore, I imagine the Buddha Victorious in Strife plays a trick on Darkseid and is able to trap or even destroy his avatar. As mentioned above, this would make the real villain (in his home dimension) think twice before tangling with Monkey again. 

I’m now obligated to insert my concept of the Monkey Prince into the story. Since he’s born during the Tang Dynasty (618-907 CE), he would be alive during the attack on heaven. But as a young, inexperienced disciple, he wouldn’t take part in the battle, just hear news of it from Guanyin during the event and stories of what happened from his half-brother Sudhana after the fact. This way, the Monkey Prince would remember the invasion and yearn to do his part when Darkseid reappears in the present.

Lastly, I feel it’s necessary to give the character a name. The comic calls him the “Monkey Prince” in his hero form and “Marcus” in his human form. I think Sun Taizi (孫太子), or “Prince Sun”, is a great name as it plays off of San Taizi (三太子), the “Third Prince” (fig. 6), one of Nezha’s titles in Chinese folk religion. (Fun fact: This deity serves as a heavenly vanguard in Sun Wukong’s own religion.) Borrowing from existing religious beliefs sparks the titillating idea that Sun Taizi’s heroic deeds would earn him devotees. Beyond his own continuing spiritual cultivation, he would grow in strength as more and more believers pray to and leave him offerings! This wouldn’t be the first time a monkey god is worshiped in America.

Fig. 6 – A religious statue of San Taizi, the “Third Prince”, from the Nine Dragons Prince Temple (Jiulong taizi gong, 九龍太子宮) in Tainan, Taiwan (larger version). Photo taken by me. 

Notes:

His wager with the Buddha is briefly shown in Lucifer #75 (2006).

For example, chapter two reads:

Plucking a handful of hairs from his [the Monkey King’s] own body and throwing them into his mouth, he chewed them to tiny pieces and then spat them into the air. “Change!” he cried, and they changed at once into two or three hundred little monkeys encircling the combatants on all sides. For you see, when someone acquires the body of an immortal, he can project his spirit, change his form, and perform all kinds of wonders. Since the Monkey King had become accomplished in the Way, every one of the eighty-four thousand hairs on his body could change into whatever shape or substance he desired (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 128).

3. Muzha (a.k.a. Hui’an, 惠岸) is already Guanyin’s disciple by the start of Monkey’s rebellion. In ch. 6, the goddess sends him to help in case his skills are needed (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 175). Red Boy is taken in by her at the end of ch. 42 and beginning of ch. 43 (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, pp. 251-252).

Sources:

Beal, S. (Trans.). (1883). The Fo-Sho-Hing-Tsan-King: A Life of Buddha by Asvaghosha Bodhisattva. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Retrieved from https://archive.org/details/foshohingtsankin00asva/mode/2up.

Buswell, R. E., & Lopez, D. S. (2014). The Princeton Dictionary of Buddhism. Princeton, NJ : Princeton University Press.

Chan, M. (2006). Ritual is Theatre, Theatre is Ritual: Tang-ki, Chinese Spirit Medium Worship. Singapore: Wee Kim Wee Centre, Singapore Management University.

Dong, Y., Lin, S., & Schulz, L. J. (2000). The Tower of Myriad Mirrors: A Supplement to Journey to the West. Ann Arbor: Center for Chinese Studies, The University of Michigan.

Graham. F. (2013). Vessels for the Gods: Tang-ki Spirit Mediumship in Singapore and Taiwan. In J. Hunter & D. Luke (Eds.), Talking With Spirits: Interdisciplinary Approaches to Spirit Mediumship (pp. 327-348). Brisbane: Daily Grail Press.

Ning, C. Y. (1986). Comic Elements in the Xiyouji Zaju. (Doctoral dissertation). Available from ProQuest Dissertations and Theses database. (UMI No. 8612591)

Wu, C., & Yu, A. C. (2012). The Journey to the West (Vols. 1-4). Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press.

[afraidofchange]

Rama Wolfbluff Backstory - Baldur's Gate edition !

Born in a tavern on the outskirts of the city of Waterdeep, her barmaid mother Amira named her Rama Wolfbluff - a last name not of her own accord but of her father in the hopes the wayward wizard would someday claim paternity on his child (he never would).

Growing up, Rama saw all kinds of adventurers and knights come and go through the tavern. What inspired her most of all were paladins, brave and stoic, devoted to their faith and gods/goddess - from about the age of seven, Rama knew that was the path she wanted to take, to do good in a world of evil.

While Rama's mother instilled a hard working ethic in her daughter, she was reluctant to let her teenager leave the comfort of home in pursuit of such a noble goal, but seeing how determined she was, she let her go.

Rama first enlisted as a SOLDIER, serving the city-state of Waterdeep for the better part of a decade (6 years). Here, she learned how to use a sword and shield, a hand-axe, and throwing daggers.

After her stint in the army, Rama began her paladin pursuits at the age of 22. She swore her oath to the deity, TYR, pleading her allegiance to serve JUSTICE and RIGHTEOUSNESS through an Oath of Vengeance (with the core tenets of Fight the Greater Evil, No Mercy for the Wicked, By Any Means Necessary, & Restitution).

Over the years, Rama became a force to be reckoned with, wielding a powerful great sword and divine powers.

However, in her early 30s, Rama became involved with another paladin of the same oath - Meredith - and despite her commitment to her path of righteousness, became involved in a romantic relationship with her. Eventually, the two married in secret, continuing on their travels across the land to slay evil together for many years. However, Meredith became susceptible to corrupting forces, leading her to breaking her oath. She and Rama fought, but she wounded Rama by stabbing her in the back, literally, leaving her bloody outside of the tavern they had been staying at, going off into the night, never to be seen nor heard from ever again.

Because of this, Rama's commitment to her oath became lessened. The wind was knocked out of her proverbial sails. If even the most devout paladin could be corrupted by evil, then what was the point in fighting anymore? Her recovery from her wound left her bedridden for some time while she healed and regained the use of her right shoulder, and her mind went to dark places of depression and anxiety of her future.

However, despite this, she eventually continued her path, albeit with far less devotion to her cause. She would help people, but she would not go out of her way to fight evil - yet, evil seems to have found her in the form of the mindflayers, taking her prisoner and implanting her with one of their illithid worms, forcing her to find some kind of cure or else face the possibility of becoming one of them.

Today, in the story of Baldur's Gate 3, you will find her determined to find a cure for the worm, seeking out all possible avenues, while continuing to serve her oath (albeit not as much of a priority as it once was). Rama is an intimidating woman with a stern tone in a low, raspy voice used to give commands with ease. She stands at a mere 5'5" in height, but appears taller than she actually is. She has dark, raven black hair though some streaks of silver are threaded throughout. Her eyes are a golden brown that contrasts against her dark brown skin. She has a scar over her right eye from forehead to cheek as well as a deep cut scar on her jaw near her chin. These are the only visible scars on her face, but she has many more on her body. She is of a fairly muscular build, though she retains her womanly curves, but these too are hidden beneath armor and loose casual clothes. She appears older than she is - at age 47 she appears more like age 55, with deep set wrinkles, sun kissed skin, and rheumatoid arthritis in her knees. She prefers the company of women, and should men approach, she is liable to shy away or become agitated should they pursue her in such a way.

A few concluding bonus notes from my D&D campaign:

As a joke from my D&D group, because I always forget what god she serves (it's Aureon from the Eberron setting, sovereign of Law & Lore) Rama at this point in her life sometimes forgets that she serves Tyr.

Rama also experiences social anxiety and will often try to leave from uncomfortable social situations, sometimes in dramatic ways (e.g. she once jumped off a 2nd floor balcony to avoid being caught eavesdropping).

In a moment of panic and in an attempt to stay hidden from enemies, Rama once hid her moon-touched sword in her breast plate and nearly gave herself an involuntary mastectomy.

Rama has a girlfriend in her canon - Kaelehn, a half-elf ranger. In their story, they were together in a very passionate relationship, but Rama had wanted to settle down sooner rather than later. As Kaelehn is several years younger than Rama, she was uncertain of what she wanted, and they parted ways for seven years before finding one another again. It took two months for their relationship to be rekindled, and now consider themselves devoted to one another. For the purposes of a BG3 storyline, it takes place between these times and thus, Rama is single and ready to mingle.

[velvetwarfare]

betty fights so dirty. like. it’s almost sickening the way she fights because no matter how meaningless the fight is, if it gets physical, bitch acts like a cornered animal immediately and goes for the throat. it’s kinda how she was raised and never broke the war mentality.

but this is also the only upside to being drugged up all the damn time. without some sort of mental barrier, she’d be killing someone new every damn hour due to how fast people are to pick fights in hell. putting her on a leash saves that unnecessary bloodshed honestly.

let’s see. she was raised as a human by two barbarians who bludgeoned people to death with a totem club and the other harnessed black craft as a shaman. taught her how to expertly wield big ass, two handed weapons like spinemangler — her 5’4, two headed war axe. ended up dabbling with vampirism and blood magic that allowed her to turn her own blood into coagulated weaponry. spent the vast majority of her life fighting to stay alive and climb the ranks so people would fear her instead of try to murder her at every turn — and in order to do that, she had to prove her worth by slaughtering, experimenting, and even betraying her own kin. became best friends with war and bloodlust because it gave her back the power the Gods and humanity ripped from her.

that also explains why she has 0 patience for heaven and the angels. associates them with the divine corruption and the reason why she was forced to die over and over again without remaining dead. she loathes the idea of redemption and will never allow herself to become one of the same kinship who cursed her and other undead for eternity. is 100% down to commit mass g.enocide on the angels and thrives during extermination days because she gets a free pass to go absolutely balls off the wall batshit without reprimand. also enjoys getting to be a war commander again.

the only reason she likes lute is because she finds her hot and her battle techniques are very similar to her own — commendable and respectable. betty can appreciate a bitch who fights like a coked up raccoon ready to slit throats and steal cat food. that doesn’t mean she’d turn down a fight, oh god no — if anything, lute’s strategy makes betty want to fight even MORE because that’s seen as competition and someone who’s up to par with her skillset.

adam doesn’t get any reaction though. candle is a stupid breed im sorry she can do so much better I know but I’m a slut for the sun vs moon trope okay. betty would only ever touch adam to either hate fuck or try to curb stomp. or both. absolutely LOATHES his cocky attitude and narcissism. he’s at the top of her shit list. which is hilarious because he’s at the top of candle’s love list GFHFHGFV

candle and betty hate each other. it’s the typical heaven vs hell. and even when candle falls, they still hate each other. mainly because of adam. also because they butt heads constantly and betty lives off of infuriating someone who used to represent patience. candle used to be an angel of high authority — which makes betty rub salt in the wound even more mercilessly because she LOVES to see heaven fail.

if y’all haven’t noticed. the people betty fall for or even just associate with are equally as horrible as she is. it’s just home to her. she can’t stay around people who want redemption for too long. hence why she has a vee’s verse — and ends up LIKING it.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

A Clash of Kings - 22 CATELYN II (pages 303-320)

Catelyn arrives at Renly's party town in the south and suffers through a feast. Brienne joins the party! (pending)

-

Her fingers seemed more clumsy than usual as she fumbled her clothes. She supposed she ought to be grateful that she had any use of her hands at all. The dagger had been Valyrian steel, and Vaylrian steel bites deep and sharp. She only had to look at the scars to remember.

Valyrian Steel = 🥛🥛

A roar went up from the crowd as a helmetless red-bearded man with a griffin on his shield went down before a big knight in blue armor. His steel was a deep cobalt, even the blunt morningstar he wielded with such deadly effect, his mount barded in the quartered sun-and-moon heraldry of House Tarth.

Oh look, the original Briennesweep. XD BRIENNE!!! HIIIIIII!!!!!

- and to her left Lord Randyll Tarly of Horn Hill, his greatsword Heartsbane propped up against the back of his seat.

... do I drink? they didn't say "Valyrian steel" but they mentioned Heartsbane which we know is a Valyrian steel blade... hmmm no, I'm fairly certain I've never taken a drink just for mentions of Ice, only the words Valyrian steel, so we'll keep going that way.

The rules are fast and loose... like Petyr Baelish's morals... oh wait, if they were like that then they wouldn't actually exist... The rules are fast and loose like Tyrion Lannister's morals. (yeah, that works a little better.)

The girl who shared a seat with him was also of Highgraden: his young queen, Margaery, daughter to Lord Mace Tyrell.

Hi Margaery.

Ser Loras rode a tall white stallion in silver mail, and fought with a long-handled axe. A crest of golden roses ran down the center of his helm.

Okay, we're going to do something new and exciting right now (art!) because I need to share with you how my brain mis-processed those sentences: "fought with a long-handled axe, a crest of golden roses ran down the center " > The axe has roses on it > "down the center of his helm." > Oh no wait the *helm* has roses on it > Loras's helmet has a mohawk made of roses.

This:

Is kind of what I was picturing when I was picturing the rose axe, don't ask why it's double headed, I just really like double headed axes in my fantasy genres, so my brain defaults. (I grabbed a reference picture of a golden rose and copy pasted it because I cannot draw roses for the life of me.)

The steel was polished to such a high sheen that she could see her reflection in the breastplate, gazing back at her as if from the bottom of a deep green pond. The face of a drowned woman, Catelyn thought. Can you drown in grief?

... Hey, did y'all know the twins sit on the Greenfork river? ha. ha. ahhhh, the subtly of "is it really foreshadowing or am I reading backwards into it?"

For the sweet, Lord Caswell's servants brought down trays of pastries from his castle kitchens, cream swans and spun-sugar unicorns, lemon cakes in the shape of roses, spiced honey biscuits and blackberry tarts, apple crisps and wheels of buttery cheese.

Lemon (cakes) = 🥛 It counts, I'm counting it... I'm also really peckish all of a sudden...

"-Why pity?" "Because it will not last," Catelyn answered, sadly. "Because they are the knights of summer, and winter is coming." "Lady Catelyn, you are wrong." Brienne regarded her with eyes as blue as her armor. "Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it's always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining." Winter comes for all of us, Catelyn thought. For me, it came when Ned died. It will come for you too child, and sooner than you like. She did not have the heart to say it.

Amazing use of the Stark words. Poor Brienne, she thinks like Sansa did, they both deserve a world where the world is exactly like they think it is/should be!!! Also, "sooner than you like"... *calculates the number of pages left and compares them to the scenes from the show* yeahhh, about that. (this Cat chapter or next? hmmmm)

"Let us be blunt, my lady. Stannis would make an appalling king. Nor is he like to become one. Men respect Stannis, even fear him, but precious few have ever loved him."

Good thing "well loved" isn't a requirement for being king. you know what really should be though? The ability to DO THE DAMNED JOB!!! Alas, corrupt politics has turned it into a popularity contest with a high entry fee.

"These are no Lannisters, my liege. it's Lord Stannis at your gates. King Stannis, he calls himself now."

Oh look, time for the little boys to stop playing at war and face it for realsies. (I'm sorry, he just. Renly, bothers me, as a person. not just because he abandoned Ned to die because Ned wouldn't support Renly's usurpation, not just because he's a rude piece of work about anyone he's not kriffing (so everyone but Loras) or schmoozing (which is all the lords and ladies and most bestest knight Brienne). It's the inflated sense of self-entitlement, I think.)

Poor Catelyn, she's so soul weary in this chapter, and it's not going to get better. She's doing her best but the world just, urgh.

[awildofnothing]

The Grand Experiment (Ashton Greymoore fanmix)

(listen here)

This mix follows Ashton from pre-campaign, through the big fall from the tower and rebuilding, adjusting to their new reality, meeting FCG* and the Hells, up to the big battle with Ludinus.

Tracklist plus some B-sides under the cut!

The Grand Experiment - Doomtree - pushing evolution faster, catching continental drift / desperately seeking solutions to problems we know we’ll never fix 

New Cannonball Blues - TV On The Radio - but it was written in blood before they wrote it in stone / so sing it with me like it’s your own

Complicated Creation - Cloud Cult - you know you are as small as the things you let annoy you, and you know you are gigantic as the things that you adore / some days you give thanks, some days you give the finger / it’s a complicated creation

Warsaw - Dessa - I’ve done some living in a glass house / high note blew the motherfucking walls off… and I’m barefaced at your masquerade, filled a flask up before I came

Penn Station - The Felice Brothers - well I died in Penn Station tonight, oh lord

The Future of History - Tropical Fuck Storm - a sky without a world, a shore without a sea / a sun without heat shining light you can’t see

The Crow - Dessa -  anger is just love, left out, gone to vinegar / you wake up a stranger to yourself and then you learn to live with her

Rearrange Beds - An Horse - that bit before you remember / everything you own begins to blend in / two bones that ache with things that you can’t spell

Little Operator* - Nico Vega - little operator voice like therapy / never gonna stare at me / won’t get scared of me

Pots and Pans - The Kills - I can’t find enough love in my heart / let alone in my bones / to keep you standing

1x1x1 - Cloud Cult - you are here to take the punches one by one / you are here to learn your lessons one by one

No Way - Doomtree - we got cracks in our armor, got cracks in the ceiling / and this axe that we’re wielding will react when you’re feeling that crack / attack, attack

Lazerray - TV On the Radio - four thousand years ago, I came back to my senses / swallowed a lazer ray and blew my mind in all directions

Hologram - Tacocat - just remember, if you can, power is a hologram / and every reality every little reality is ripping at the seams

Forces of the Unseen - Cloud Cult - it’s the storm in your eyes, it’s in the roots of the tree / the underestimated power of the forces of the unseen

Let’s be optimistic and say you cannot get enough of this mix… here’s some tracks that were on there at some point but I ended up taking off:

B-sides:

Fresh New Trash - Doomtree (I could have honestly just re-titled the entire No Kings album and had a quality Ashton playlist. If I thought this whole mix would translate as intended this song would be first, to represent Ashton’s time with the Nobodies, and The Grand Experiment would be second to last.  But I was worried this song was a stretch and people would turn the mix off at song 1, so I started with the strongest song instead)

Palace - Dessa (the first two thirds of this song is perfect as track 4, with Warsaw bumped to somewhere around 12-14, but I didn’t think the last third fit Ashton super well)

Little Mercy - Doomtree (one of my favorite Doomtree songs, and also a good pre-Hells song)

Rings - Pinegrove (I draw a line in my life, saying this is the new way I behave now / then actually live by the shape of that sound… This song makes me think of Ashton learning from and bonding with Orym. I couldn’t make it fit tonally but it would be somewhere after 1x1x1)

Wake Up Screaming - Subhumans (I was searching for “Wake Up” by the band Humans and stumbled across this.  It’s pretty perfect for waking up from the big fall, but honestly I don’t enjoy listening to it and I try to keep songs I don’t like off of mixes.  Plus I had too many songs centered around that one moment already)

DLZ - TV On the Radio (this song is great and if I’d found it when I first was building this it would probably be in there, maybe switched out for 1x1x1.  Again with the first two thirds being a good fit.  I wasn’t sold on the last little “dawn of a loser forever” bit)

[cartoonbrat16]

Ben and Jen: Anti-heros

A few days after Sunny arrived things began to settle down. Sunny helped Ben and Jen understand their power more and train them. The twins also began to enjoy magic and had a lot of fun with their new tarot deck. The night the twins took the tarot deck they spent hours researching it, and discovered it was Tge Major Arcana deck. It was the first deck of tarot cards to ever exist.

It was a deck of twenty-two cards, each card showcasing a different power or weapon. Both Ben and Jen adored the deck and agreed to split the deck, eleven cards each.

Ben took,

The Fool, which gave him a slingshot,

The Magician, which gave him the power to see people's power or unique talents,

The Emperor, giving him the power to bend others to his will,

The Charlot, which gave him a sniper rifle,

The Devil, giving him a whip,

The moon, gives him the power to see people's hidden thoughts, emotions, feelings, or true intentions.

Judgement, allows him to see others' past and their future.

The Hermit, gives him the power to isolate himself or others in an endless black void.

Wheel of Fortune, gives him the power to grant great wealth and luck to others or steal it away

The star, gives him throwing stars

The world, gives him a sword and shield

Jen took,

The High Priestess, allowing her to see hidden or unseen danger miles away.

The Empress, gives her the power to control people's love and compassion and gives her a strong connection with nature

The Hierophant, giving her a grappling hook

The lovers, give her twin axes

Strength, giving Jen inhuman strength of both mind and body.

Death, gives her the power to both see and show people how they will die given any situation.

The Sun, giving her a giant war hammer.

Justice, giving her a chain scythe

The hanged man, gives her twin reverse-wielding pistols.

The Tower, gives her the power to destroy anything with the snap of her fingers.

Temperance, gives her a giant sword

The cards were easy to hide from Max and Ben and Jen would train on nights they didn't train with Sunny. Tonight they were training with Temperance, and The World, sparing against each other while talking.

"When will he give up?" Jen asked lunging at Ben. "I couldn't tell ya, sis," Ben said blocking Jen with his shield. Jen flipped over Ben and began to move forward pushing Ben towards the lake they camped by. "In all honesty, I don't think he is gonna give up." Ben panted blocking Jen's attacks with his own sword. "I hope you are wrong." Jen said before Ben roundhouse kicked her into the lake, "Agh!" Jen groaned.

Jen gasped as she resurfaced, "Not cool bro." she said pulling herself from the lake. Ben chuckled, "Sorry Sis." Ben said rubbing the back of his neck with a yawn. Jen was about to recommend they turn in but The Hight Priestess alerted Jen of nearby danger. Jen got in a fighting stance and Ben did the same. "How far" "About a mile out, fifteen feet under, and moving fast," Jen said activating The Hanged Man, while Ben activated The Star.

Ben and Jen stood, but nothing happened. "It is moving away," Jen said letting her weapon vanish. Ben did the same and the twins returned to the RV. They quietly got in their pajamas and crawled into bed.

~~~~~~~~~

The next day Max was leading the kids to the boat docks for a fishing trip. He was the only one really excited about it, the kids could do without it. "I never saw the appeal in fishing. Hours of sitting and waiting just to catch a tiny creature. How is that fun?" Sunny asked but Ben and Jen just shrugged. "People will treat it as a competition, if either of you had a brain you would know that," Gwen said walking past the three.

Ben, Jen, and Sunny shared a look and then smirked. Ben used his mana and turned a bucket full of worms onto Gwen's head. "AHHH!!!" Jen then tripped her with a mana rope. "WHOA!" when Gwen was close enough to the edge of the dock Sunny pushed her in with a mana shield. The three began to laugh and ran ahead jumping onto their chartered boat. "Where is Gwen?" Max asked when Gwen didn't show up with the other three.

Ben was about to answer but a growl cut him off. Everyone turned and saw Gwen, her face was so red she almost looked like four arms. Max looked at Ben, Jen, and Sunny, he was I am used, but his stern look didn't stop them from laughing. "We will talk about this later," Max said and signaled for Gwen to sit beside him.

An hour later Max finally decided to break the silence that surrounded the boat. "Anything interesting to catch?" He asked to their driver, Captain Shaw. "More than you think," Shaw said not making eye contact. Max kept asking questions, Shaw kept answering, and everyone remained bored.

Jen was about to jump overboard to get some excitement, but she sensed something. Jen used her High Priestess and located the danger. "What is that?" Sunny whispered, Ben saw Jen had her card out and explained to Sunny what they were and how they got them. "Awesome, so what does that one do?" she asked, "That card allows Jen to see hidden or unseen danger miles away," Ben said. "On that topic, twenty miles east, circling the bottom of the lake, and it is huge," Jen whispered Ben nodded and pulled out his Charlot having it at the ready.

"So, any lake monster swimming around?" Sunny asked trying to get more info on the lurking danger. "Sunny, this is not a monster hunt." "It's called the Kraken," Shaw said and Ben, Jen, and Sunny smiled. "You know about it?" Jen asked walking over to Shaw with Ben and Sunny in tow. "It's my business to know. I've been on its tail for years, and people think my utter ain't right." Shaw said and handed a photo to Ben. Shaw went on explaining the Kraken and Jen could see Max, and Gwen's skeptical looks.

"I could never imagine seeing something like this," Ben said handing the photo to Jen. "I could never imagine seeing someone with hair like you and your sisters," Shaw said gaining a faint smile. Ben and Jen chuckled before Max pulled them away along with Sunny. "Listen you three, I don't want you to put too much truth into what Shaw says. I don't think he has both ores in the water." Max said low enough so Shaw couldn't hear. Ben, Jen, and Sunny sighed with bored looks, Jen then held up a closed hand. "Gwen transforms into Aliens, Sunny is an Alien, Me and Ben have discovered our alien side and can do magic to an extent." with every reason Jen held up a finger.

"Yeah, we don't think he is crazy," Ben said then returned to stand by Shaw. Jen followed but Sunny stood to keep talking to Max. "So, he thinks I'm crazy?" Shaw asked, Ben and Jen nodded. "We don't though." Ben said with a smile, Shaw smiled back, "What do you say we prove him wrong!" he asked. Ben and Jen got brighter smiles and nodded in agreement. Shaw changed the direction of the boat and they were off, heading straight for where Jen sensed the danger.

~~~~~~~~~

Shaw explained his Kraken hunting equipment to Ben, Jen, and Sunny, then something caught his eye. A part of the lake was blocked off by yellow tape. "Do not enter?" Shaw read "Looks official, we better turn back." Max said and Ben pouted.

"Why should we be told where we can and can't fish?" Ben said "Let's just break through the tape, no one would know it was us." he added and Shaw smiled. "I like the way your boy thinks," Shaw said to Max and was about to carry on when another boat stopped them. "What now?" Jen and Sunny said standing up to look at the boat.

"Fishing boat, you need to turn around." a man said, Jen crossed her arms "Who are you to tell us where we can and can't go fishing?" Jen asked giving the guy a dirty look. He kept a calm smile "I am Jona, founder of the organization Friends Of Fish. We are researching so you are legally required to turn around." Ben, Jen, Sunny, and Shaw growled but went back the way they came. Max and Gwen were the only ones happy about the entire situation.

"I don't trust those guys," Sunny said glaring at the F.O.F boat as he drove in front of them. "We shouldn't," Ben said pulling Jen and Sunny out of sight. "While you guys were talking I used my Moon tarot card. Those guys are hunting the Kraken, and I think they stole from it." Ben said. Jen and Sunny put on a serious look to match Ben and they looked at the boat.

"What should we do?" Sunny asked, "Get ready to feed them to the Kraken, it's here." Jen said standing up to her feet. The Kraken swam under the boat knocking everyone around and going after the "Friends Of Fish". "Let's go!" Ben said and flew over to the other boat. Jen and Sunny nodded then followed after Ben to kick some butt.

"What are they doing?" Gwen asked seeing her cousins fly off the boat. "I don't know," Max said clearly not happy. Gwen also wasn't happy and jumped into the water transforming into Ripjaws. She swam over and jumped onto the boat and growled at her cousins. They were helping the Kraken. Did they have no sense? Gwen quickly kicked Jen into the water making her drop the guys then went after Ben.

"Ben, watch out!" Sunny warned and Ben was able to dodge Gwen. Gwen slide into the others and they all crashed to the ground. Ben then went to assist Sunny and unhooked the big crate Kraken and Jona were fighting over a moment ago. They pushed it into the water and flew back to Shaw's boat where Jen was waiting with a furious Max. Max sat Ben, Jen, and Sunny down and didn't let them move until they returned to shore.

~~~~~~~~~

Later Max stood in front of Ben, Jen, and Sunny giving them a stern lecture. Gwen stood by with a smile happy some justice was being served.

"What were you three thinking? You could have gotten hurt, and you helped the enemy. Now tell me what was going through your heads " "We needed to help the Kraken." Jen said, "Those Friend Of Fish guys are a bunch of posers." Ben added, "Why should we stand by when were are more capable to be heroes than she is." Sunny finished gesturing to Gwen. That only angered Max even more and he was about to say something, but Ben stopped him.

"Save it, Grandpa, you can't stop us, we won't let you. This entire conversation is useless on your part, so don't waste your breath." Ben said then stood to his feet and walked out. Jen and Sunny followed and Max sat down. For the first time since Ben and Jen got their power, they looked furious with him. "I can't make the same mistake, but I can't let them get hurt either," Max whispered looking at the ground.

Meanwhile Ben and Jen flew over the lake, Sunny had vanished to give them some time to cool off. Jen flew ahead of Ben and began flying backward smiling at Ben. Ben laughed and began doing barrel turns but eventually got dizzy and had to stop. "Hey isn't that Shaw?" Jen asked spotting a familiar boat. "Yup, and there's Sunny," Ben said pointing to Sunny who crawled under a tarp. Ben and Jen flew down and crawled under the tarp with their cousin.

"What are we doing?" Jen whispered, "I overheard Shaw talking about going after the Kraken, so I thought I'd tag along." Sunny whispered and they all got comfy.

At least an hour later Sunny still sat hiding with Ben and Jen, but they were sound asleep. Sunny felt herself getting tired as well and leaned against Jen. "I'll just rest my eyes," Sunny whispered letting her eyes close.

A few moments later the tarp was lifted off the three kids. Shaw smiled, "Little stowaways." he said and gently shook the three kids awake. "Rise and shine, it's diving time." She said handing Ben and Sunny some gear then banded Jen a fancy walkie-talkie. "If those fish huggers show up let me know." Jen nodded and watched them dive. Jen went and sat in the cabin so she could go unseen if anyone did show up.

Meanwhile, Shaw led Ben and Sunny through the water keeping their eyes peeled. There wasn't anything to see until they came across a pile of broken crates with an egg in the center. Ben and Sunny were shocked and even more so when they heard an explosion. They quickly swam back to Shaw's boat and saw it was destroyed. "Where is Jen?" Ben asked looking all around for his sister. "I think I know," Shaw said pointing to a boat speeding away.

Ben stared in shock before his face transformed into anger. Ben grits his teeth with a vicious growl and he rockets out of the water. Sunny and Shaw were pushed to shore by the wave Ben created and stared in shock. Ben sored through the air and landed on the boat with those freaks. Jona was shocked and dropped Jen who he had been threatening to throw overboard. "Get your hands off my sister," Ben growled deeply looking up with bright glowing eyes.

Ben presented a laser from his eyes and cut the ropes holding Jen. Jen kicked Jona in the back of the knee and then pushed him overboard. The other two approached but Ben used The Emperor and made them bow. Jen grabbed a thick rope and tied them up and then headed back to shore.

Jen parked the boat at the docks and Max and Gwen showed up. "What are you two doing, and where is Sunny?" Max asked, "No time Grandpa, just call the police." Jen said and pulled the men onto the docks. "Where are the rest of the eggs?" Ben asked, "Eggs?" Jen and Gwen repeated then glared at the men. The men didn't move to say anything, "You have to the count of three." Ben said, then heard a monstrous roar. "Maybe less," Jen added.

"Ben, Jen!" the twins looked up and saw Sunny, "This way," she said. Ben and Jen followed leaving Gwen and Max to deal with the crooks. "Where are we going?" Ben asked, "I and Shaw got some info from Jona." Sunny smirked and stopped at a building. The three landed and began to look for the eggs.

"Guys, help me," Sunny called trying to open a crate. Ben and Jen helped and they opened the crate to free the egg. "Let's go," Ben said and carried the egg with his mana. The three started running but stopped when they saw an office with a cash box. Jen grabbed the box and they flew out of the building to return the egg. Then they cracked open the cash box, it was pretty easy since it was overflowing. Jen and Sunny were about to fill their pockets but Ben stopped them.

Ben stood with the cash box and headed toward Shaw who was sitting on the dock. "Here." Ben handed Shaw the cash box, "A little something from out fishy friends." Ben winked then returned to the RV with Jen and Sunny.

[thewolfruns]

muse: lourdes ‘faust’ campeon lopez (they/she) open to: all genders connection: your muse picks them up on her way east in the desert–do they already know one another ? up to you ! setting: a couple of months past a zombie outbreak (or other such apocalyptic event) in the california desert. faust has been living as a vigilante the last couple of years, but has been alone since the outbreak.

the california desert was expansive–an unending sea of sand melting into the sky at the horizon. the car that had carried her almost to nevada baked beneath the autumn sun like a desiccated beetle. faust had never expected that she’d be so alone like this. their ex noemi had long since moved on and their parents and brother were nowhere to be found when the outbreak hit. no doubt, pancho had taken their folks somewhere safe. somewhere without faust. they wondered–as they moved out of the cities squaring off against the dead with truer aim than she’d had for the living–if they were the last person alive.

they had been more than lucky, having played robin hood in inglewood for almost a full two years before the dead didn’t stay down. it had sharpened their aim and their heart against the guilt that came with taking a life (even if, nowadays, those lives had already been taken). they hoped the few short months noemi had stayed with them after everything had given her the same leg up on surviving. backpack slung lazily over their left shoulder, they carried a few canvas sacks of food and necessities in one hand and their assault rifle in the other–swinging it slightly by the strap like a little kid with their halloween candy. headphones rested around their neck blasting music just loud enough to cover up the sound of tires until it was close enough that they could almost sense the car on them. in the desert, where a person could see for miles around them, it didn’t seem like too big of a risk. maybe they’d indulged in the music a little bit too much.

they’d never survive out in the desert on their own and, regardless of who was in that car, needed a ride. turning, faust pulled their biggest smile, unaware of how it didn’t reach her eyes, at their approach. they approached the car with a boldness that was reserved for only the most naive or dangerous of survivors.  “i’m not normally a hitchhiker,” they started, once the driver’s side window was down. “but you think you could hook me up with a ride out of this place?” widening their smile, faust was feeling stupid and hopeful. both qualities of people who didn’t survive. “please. i promise i’m not like an axe-wielding murderer or something.” the smile faltered. it was hot and it was desolate. another car coming by was not a promise. “i really need a ride.”

[lynxalon]

Lynx!!! How about 3, 33, and 35 for the ask game? For any oc you please! Maybe even Lynx of Avalon!! :DD

oooooo !!!!!! as you wish hehe i'll do lynx of avalon and my beloved trio mage yen, lady blackthorn, and rhenium from the rites of mages <3

3. weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?

lynx of avalon: sword! they're a creature of familiarity and practicality, and they don't like to get rid of things that can still be used. even after making excalibur they still use their usual sword until they can't anymore, either it breaks or becomes a keepsake, a relic from an age they'll never be again.

mage yen: magic. their mastery over their ability gives them an edge of confidence that helps them in battles, and with the mystery of What their ability actually is, they almost always have the element of surprise and are underestimated.

lady blackthorn: battle axe!! she's a very strong figure, and tbh. she learned to wield a battle axe through sheer spite because someone told her she couldn't when she was young.

rhenium: gun, later a sabre. there's a reason here but i'm not telling <3

33. if applicable, how would your other characters describe them? i mean specifically the people around them.

lynx of avalon: ohm. since lynx is m mc character i've gotta say. this is one for the covers 😂

mage yen: to lady blackthorn, yen is her oldest friend and lover; yen is compassionate and self assured, protective (to the point of cruelty sometimes), and every time they waver they come back stronger. yen is like a beach where the ocean freezes, like a moonless night, like laying in a field of flowers as the sun rises. to rhenium, yen has always been someone he respects, and they became very close. at first, he thinks yen is stubborn and scathing, quiet, cold, and cunning. later, they're seen as protective, caring, and wise. yen is like an uncut gem, the whirring of delicate gears, molten metal in a forge.

lady blackthorn: to yen, lady blackthorn is their heart, closest friend and lover. she is quick-witted, stubborn, strong, and intelligent. she's got a strong sense of justice and is very loyal. she's like howling autumn winds and wind chimes and the feeling of calm that washes over yen whenever they use their magic. to rhenium, lady blackthorn is a dear friend, his partner in battle. if they were a coin, she'd be his right side. when he first knew her, he thought she was clever, a brilliant leader and strategist, and had a silver tongue enough to give lord tungsten a run for his money. later on, when they truly became close, he came to see her as wise in her years, with a sharp mind. resilient, determined, and too self sacrificing. with him, she is angry and vengeful, she doesn't have to keep a cool head. he gives her space to explode, and he keeps her safe. he sees her as a well kept blade, as rolling lava and thunder.

rhenium: to yen, he is their close friend. through a trail by fire they came together, and yen has come to respect him. he is quiet, brooding, intelligent, private, caring, firm, and funny. he is passionate, much more than he lets on, and it was one of the first things that drew yen in. he is like a meteor shower and mountains and the roots of an old tree. to lady blackthorn, rhenium is close to her heart. when she knew of him, and the few times they spoke, she thought of him as creative but stifled, with a dry and sudden humor. then she thought of him as cruel, terrible, blindly faithful. later on, she saw him as highly empathetic, strong and vulnerable, but where she pushes forward he has doubts. he's very critical of everything, paranoid. but his strengths lie in his cautiousness and thoughtfulness. left uncheck, he struggles, but with help he flourishes as a powerful ally. he is understanding of harsh feelings and cruel thoughts, and when lady blackthorn is struggling she finds comfort in their related troubles. to her, rhenium is the golden hour of light, a caterpillars cocoon, a bonfire with music and dancing and laughter.

35. do they ever return home?

lynx of avalon: once, though they never tell anyone. centuries after they left, they visit. they know what they'll see. they run their hands along the old walls and mourn. when they leave they close off avalon from everything else. they think that it's the only selfish deed that's ever been worth it. to keep their home to themself, though they can never truly go back. so long as nothing is built in it's place, they pretend they can.

mage yen: home is all around them. they were born from the magic of the world, and only when they die will they be home again, but that will be when life stills and before worlds are made again. it will take along time. until then, they try to draw home as close as they dare.

lady blackthorn: home is in people, and so long as she is with them she's home. quietly, she misses her mother's kitchen.

rhenium: home is foreign to him. he's never had a home, and the only person who could be also could never really be his home. rhenium has always been moving around. he's not sure he'll ever be home.

PHEWWWW that got a bit long 😂 ty for asking beloved!!!!! these where VERY fun to answer :DDDD as you might can tell, i love yen, blackthorn, and rhenium! they are in m heart fr frrr <3

here is the oc ask game link XD

[fiinalgiirls]

muse: lourdes ‘faust’ campeon lopez (they/she) open to: all genders connection: your muse picks them up on her way east in the desert–do they already know one another ? up to you ! setting: a couple of months past a zombie outbreak in the california desert. faust has been living as a vigilante the last couple of years, but has been alone since the outbreak. (this post was made with beta, but i can do legacy, just lmk).

the california desert was expansive–an unending sea of sand melting into the sky at the horizon. the car that had carried her almost to nevada baked beneath the autumn sun like a desiccated beetle. faust had never expected that she’d be so alone like this. their ex noemi had long since moved on and their parents and brother were nowhere to be found when the outbreak hit. no doubt, pancho had taken their folks somewhere safe. somewhere without faust. they wondered--as they moved out of the cities squaring off against the dead with truer aim than she’d had for the living--if they were the last person alive.

they had been more than lucky, having played robin hood in inglewood for almost a full two years before the dead didn’t stay down. it had sharpened their aim and their heart against the guilt that came with taking a life (even if, nowadays, those lives had already been taken). they hoped the few short months noemi had stayed with them after everything had given her the same leg up on surviving. backpack slung lazily over their left shoulder, they carried a few canvas sacks of food and necessities in one hand and their assault rifle in the other–swinging it slightly by the strap like a little kid with their halloween candy. headphones rested around their neck blasting music just loud enough to cover up the sound of tires until it was close enough that they could almost sense the car on them. in the desert, where a person could see for miles around them, it didn’t seem like too big of a risk. maybe they’d indulged in the music a little bit too much.

they’d never survive out in the desert on their own and, regardless of who was in that car, needed a ride. turning, faust pulled their biggest smile, unaware of how it didn’t reach her eyes, at their approach. they approached the car with a boldness that was reserved for only the most naive or dangerous of survivors. “i’m not normally a hitchhiker,” they started, once the driver’s side window was down. “but you think you could hook me up with a ride out of this place?” widening their smile, faust was feeling stupid and hopeful. both qualities of people who didn’t survive. “please. i promise i’m not like an axe-wielding murderer or something.” the smile faltered. it was hot and it was desolate. another car coming by was not a promise. “i really need a ride.”

they’d never survive out in the desert on their own and, regardless of who was in that car, needed a ride. turning, faust pulled their biggest smile, unaware of how it didn’t reach her eyes, at their approach. they approached the car with a boldness that was reserved for only the most naive or dangerous of survivors.  “i’m not normally a hitchhiker,” they started, once the driver’s side window was down. “but you think you could hook me up with a ride out of this place?” widening their smile, faust was feeling stupid and hopeful. both qualities of people who didn’t survive. “please. i promise i’m not like an axe-wielding murderer or something.” the smile faltered. it was hot and it was desolate. another car coming by was not a promise. “i really need a ride.”