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thatboomerkid · 3 years

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SpellJammer: Shadow of the Spider-Moon

Player’s Packet (ver 1.3)

for use with the First Edition Pathfinder Role-Playing Game

by Clinton J. Boomer

with special thanks to Andy Collins, Scott Schomburg, Chloe Michelle, Dennis Detwiller, David Gerrold, and George Loki Williams

additional campaign materials may be found here

The broad theme of the campaign is simple: “outsiders — criminals, rejects, freedom fighters, the lost, the abandoned, the desperate, and the mad — go balls-out, nothing to lose, against corrupt authority and nightmare monsters, surviving on the razor’s edge of the known & the unknown”.

It’s meant to have one foot in Serenity/Firefly, one foot in Pirates of the Caribbean, one foot in Guardians of the Galaxy, yet another foot in Princess Bride, plus little dashes of steampunk / dieselpunk pulp-action high-fantasy on top: Raiders of the Lost Ark, Giant Robo: The Day the Earth Stood Still, Aliens, Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro, The Mummy, The Fifth Element, The Rocketeer, and/or Big Trouble in Little China

RACES

Dwarf: a scattered people born of Moradin’s Forge*, 80% of whom now exist solely as slaves beneath the whip and bootheel of the illithid and their grotesque creations. Dwarves in captivity are stripped of their names, titles, and family lineage; for this reason, free dwarves often cover themselves in dense tattoos, transformed into living repositories of their clan history. Dwarves no longer have a homeland but make small communities on Fenris, the Crown-Moons of Garl, Gelth, and Callarduran, and across the Chain of Tears (especially the city of Discord).

For human occupants of Pyrespace, the illithid invasion – which the Church of Yondalla officially denies occurring, under pain of incarceration, transportation, and excommunication – happened ten years ago: half a generation past, when the very youngest of human spacehands were still in diapers.

For dwarves, it happened approximately last Tuesday.

Shepard Book, Zoe Washburne, and Drax the Destroyer are good examples of dwarves.

*NOTE: The Church of Yondalla, which does not recognize the divinity of Moradin, refers to the dwarven home-world instead simply as ‘the Adamant Forge’ in all official documentation.

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Elf: an elegant race in slow decline, born of Perianth, still recovering from the Unseelie War that split and decimated the species a millennium ago. For the elves, long-lived as they are, the wound is still very fresh: fewer than seven generations have passed since the end of the war, after all (for a human, this is perhaps comparable to a tragedy that occurred less than a century and a half ago).

Elves consume food, water, and air as Small-size creatures. Drow are a playable race, although they suffer a great deal of distrust from everyone … including other drow.

Inara, Simon Tam, River Tam, the Operative, Nebula, and Gamora are good examples of elves.

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Gnome: engineers and technologists born from the Circle of Gold, greatest moon of the Crown of Sapphire, now scraping-by on the Crown’s remaining moons and across the Chain of Tears: the devastated shards of their destroyed home-world, shattered two-and-a-quarter centuries ago.

Like the elves, of course, gnomes are fantastically long-lived: the very eldest gnomes can recall the true glory of their home world, seen with their own eyes; some of the most ancient were already well into their venerable years, over two and a half centuries old, at the time of the cataclysm. Even for the very youngest of gnomes, those who have never known a home-world other than the Chain of Tears, only about three generations have passed since the destruction of that moon (in terms that a human might understand, this is perhaps similar to an event that occurred 60-70 years ago).

Gnomes may choose to gain +2 Intelligence in place of their standard +2 Charisma; most have the Gear Gnome subtype. Nearly half of all gnomish pregnancies result in twins, and triplets are as common among gnomes as twins are among humans.

Kaylee Frye, Niska, Hoban ‘Wash’ Washburne, Rocket Racoon, Miracle Max (from Princess Bride), and Twigg (from Pirates of the Caribbean) are good examples of gnomes.

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Hin: Undisputed rulers of Quelya above the waves, thanks much to their ingenuity in social organization & their bountiful harvests even in the most barren of lands. The vast monotheistic religion of the Hin offers prayers to Yondalla and to her Saints, including Davian and Asmodeus; all Hin estates contain a shrine to Yondalla. The priests and nuns of the Church may not marry, though their laity is expected to produce many, many children. Status within the Church is of paramount importance for all Hin; donations to the church can buy writs of indulgence, favorable legal judgment, and even sainthood.

Lord Beckett, Governor Swann, Elizabeth Swan, Captain Barbossa, and Commodore Norrington (from Pirates of the Caribbean), Badger (from Firefly), Buttercup, Prince Humperdink, Count Rugen, Vizzini (from Princess Bride), and the Collector and Grandmaster (from Guardians of the Galaxy) are all good examples of Hin.

A BRIEF NOTE ON HIN NAMING-CONVENTIONS

Hin identify, for the most part, as members of the Church of Yondalla first, as part of a culture second, and as citizens of a nation third.

Thus, a Hin living in Arvoreen, Beshaba, or Brandobaris can be expected to have an Arvorean, Beshabite, or Brandobarin name. However, a Hin living far away from the shores of Green Fields -- in Cyrrollalee or in Urogolan, for example -- with always retain a “proper” Arvorean, Beshabite, or Brandobarin name.

Hin with Urogalandic names, simply put, do not exist.

“Invented” Hin names, which are relatively common everywhere except on Quelya, are the major exception to this general rule: occasionally, a young Hin living off-world will choose to reinvent himself -- and, thus, rename himself -- often, but not always, as a means to get out from under the thumb of a particularly oppressive (or shameful) family.

Venturing forth into the unknown without the benefit of a longstanding lineage is, in fact, a tradition among Hin significantly older than modern Arvorean or Brandobarin society.

As such, a young Hin in Lagas going by the name of “Morgan Drake,” “John Smith,” “Alastair Chapman,” or “Sebastian West” -- for example -- might be looked down upon as a probable criminal or even as a pirate ... but on Ashen, Verdura, or out on the Chain of Tears, such an individual is likely to earn a mark of respect from all but the most conservative and close-minded of Hin.

Invented Hin Male Names: Thomas, Morgan, Smith, Hunter, John, Price, Bennet, Chapman, West, Tanner, Spencer, Walker, Jackson, Clarke, Parker, Mason, Drake, Corbyn, Everett, Garret, Simon, Alastair, Sebastian, Elliot, Fletcher, Graham, Ethan, Oliver, Felix, Callumn, Stanley, Richmond, Lennox, Ford, Jensen, Gabriel, March, Ellis, Wellington, Reginald, Chesterton, Alex, Solomon, Carter

Invented Hin Female Names: Beatrix, Cressida, Gemma, Joclyn, Scarlett, Elizabeth, Rhonwen, Maisie, Isla, Kaitlyn, Briony, Jane, Charlotte, Adalaide, Ivy, Gwendolyn, Kenzie, Finlay, Audren, Haley, Theodora, Abigail

Invented Hin Last Names: (any invented Hin male first name)

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Human: Humans come in many different colors, in many different sizes, and worship many, many gods – usually in the guise of Yondallan saints. Most humans pay at least some lip service to St. Davian, the great champion of Yondalla (who intercedes to deliver the prayers of humans to Yondalla), but humans very often also worship older, more-private familial gods. Humans may not, of course, marry into Hin families nor join in any Hin merchant house as a full partner; the best that a human can hope for, in many cases, is to be a servant remembered fondly by the children of the family he serves.

This, of course, leaves humans permanently at the bottom of the Quelyan (and thereby system-wide) economic food chain.

It is accepted fact, by those who study the pre-history of Pyrespace, that humans were once scattered across the system for unknown purposes and by unknown means, presumably at the whim of the mysterious Precursors. For this reason, the Church of Yondalla is active in seeking-out lost civilizations of humans who have spent unknown centuries far from the light of Yondalla’s mercy.

Captain Malcolm Reynolds, Captain Jack Sparrow, Westley the Farm-Boy, and Peter Quill are good examples of humans.

HUMAN OFFSHOOTS:

al’Zihad: Despite their bizarre appearances and hostile overtures, it is passionately believed that the curious ifrit, oread, sylph, suli, and undine populations native to Ashen were once human: servants of the Precursors adapted over the course of centuries to their alien environment. It is because of this belief that the Church of Yondalla has extended such a warm and generous offer of camaraderie to the “native” al’Zihad population, hoping to reintroduce them to their divinely ordained role as servants … this time, to the Hin.

Aasimar: Human families who commit themselves to the performance of good works in the name of Yondalla occasionally produce an angel-blooded or archon-blooded heir: born to serve the Church as beatific instruments of peace.

Dhampir: Some human children born beneath the Spider-Moon, along the Chain of Tears, or in the wilds of Fenris are infused with strange energies of death-magic. These children are claimed by the Church, for their own protection.

Fetchling: A strange subspecies of human – thought to originally hail from the lost forest-moon of Baervan (circling the Crown of Sapphire), infused with energies from the forbidden Library of the Eremite – these creatures are kept secret by the Church of Yondalla.

Ganzi: The children of humans exposed over-long to the energies of the Crown of Sapphire have been known to exhibit bizarre mutations; such creatures are taken-in by the Church of Yondalla to be kept safe.

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Half-Elf: Increasingly common throughout the system, originally the products of union between a male elf and female human: while elven females will often take human lovers, both male and female, pregnancies resulting from such unions are unknown: elven women must maintain a strict, meditative state of concentration to actually achieve pregnancy. As such, accidental fertilization is impossible, and even the act of impregnation is discomforting enough that no elven female would perform the act without sound – usually political – reason.

Elven men, therefore, are often shocked to discover that a brief rendezvous with a human woman has produced a bastard child.

Half-elves now breed true and have formed small communities in larger cities like Discord, Zionil, Dallah, and Lagas. Half-elves have no place within Elven society and possess little group unity.

Will Turner (from Pirates of the Caribbean) and Inigo Montoya are good examples of Half-Elves.

Half-Orc: True orcs (and their off-shoot species, including ogres, goblins, and hobgoblins) are not born and possess no gender: they are fungal creatures that emerge fully-grown from vast, reeking pits. Humans exposed to this fungus occasionally produce half-orc offspring; half-orcs are most-commonly born from humans captured by the illithid and taken to Moradin’s Forge (where airborne spores of goblin-fungus are dangerously common).

Half-orcs are prized by the illithid as a more perfect slave-stock than dwarves, orcs, or other monstrous humanoids, and have escaped their bondage to breed true: the product of any mating involving half-orcs (human/half-orc or half-elf/half-orc) is nearly always half-orc: their bizarre, altered fungus-genome is nearly viral in this regard.

Populations of “native” half-orcs intermingle with “native” humans across the wastes of Fenris, representing – to the Church – peoples long separated from the light of Yondalla.

Jayne Cobb and Niska’s leg-breaker Crow (from Firefly), Fezzick (from Princess Bride), Yondu (from Guardians of the Galaxy), and Bo’sun (from Pirates of the Caribbean) are good examples of Half-Orcs.

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Kuru: A bizarre subspecies of island-dwelling human driven all-but-extinct by the combined might of the Arvorean navy and the Church of Yondalla; kuru who bend the knee to the Church and denounce the worship of Dagon are given the same rights as other human offshoots (which is to say, not very much and certainly not as much as main-bloodline humans).

Skintwister: A vanishingly small percentage of humans – when directly exposed to alien fauna and extreme environment – rapidly adapt at a cellular level, taking on the most useful traits of a local native animal species within a generation. Human families on Quelya occasionally produce shark-blooded skintwister, while humans on Verdura can produce bat-blooded, bird-of-prey blooded, boar-blooded, crocodile-blooded, or tiger-blooded offspring, and humans on Fenris can produce bear-blooded, bird-of-prey blooded, boar-blooded, rat-blooded, tiger-blooded, and wolf-blooded young. These ‘near-humans’ are much prized by the Church as useful resources.

Tiefling: Human families who commit wicked deeds, marking themselves for eternal punishment in the bowels of Hell, occasionally produce a devil-blooded heir: born to serve the Church as weapons of war. In addition to the devil-spawn tieflings recognized by the Church of Yondalla, demon-spawn tieflings occasionally appear among the hinen (human servants) of Perianth; kyton-spawn appear among those humans on the Chain of Tears who venture too close to the forest-moon of Baervan, and rakshasa-spawn appear with alarming frequency among those humans assigned to toil the plantation-fields of Verdura.

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Warforged: Creations of the gnomes, the original warforged were long ago the original deciding factor in the wars against the ysoki. Redesigned in later centuries to act as adaptable, dependable assistants for gnomes, including the best possible defense against Hive (and later, illithid) incursions into gnome-space, the warforged were manufactured in the tens of millions.

All warforged, under the dictates of the Church of Yondalla, are property: they do not, and cannot, possess souls.

Each warforged is “born” from a generation creche; not a single such creche is known to have survived the destruction of the Circle of Gold (the gnomish home-world), and the technology to repair or re-fire a damaged creche – if one could even be found! – is utterly lost. For this reason, warforged are no longer treated as the expendable resource they were in the days of the Rat-Slaughter or the Hive Marches.

Data (Star Trek), C3-PO (Star Wars), the T-800 (Terminator), K2-SO (Rogue One), Baymax (Big Hero 6), David (Prometheus), Cameron (Terminator: the Sarah Conner Chronicles), Bishop (Aliens), GLaDOS (Portal), Wall-E, and the Iron Giant are all good examples of possible warforged archetypes, but many other interpretations are possible.

image from here

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Others:

In addition to the major races and civilizations of the system, two dozen or more other sapient species make their homes across Pyrespace.

Inhabitants of Ashen:

Kasatha: Swift and dangerous hunters adapted for the open desert, a rare few kasatha have left the holdings of their clans to seek bounty beyond their world.

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Inhabitants of Verdura:

A huge number of native species make the wilds of Verdura their home, many of them armed with Precursor technology and decidedly hostile to strangers. Among them are the Catfolk (lion, tiger, jaguar, leopard, cheetah, puma), Giff, Ghoran, Gnoll, Grippli, Kobold, Lizardfolk, Nagaji, Orang-Pendak, Reptoid, Tengu, Vanara, Vishkanya, and Wyvaran.

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Inhabitants of Quelya:

Gargoyle: A strange species of living stone that laired near – and among – the Urogalandic people for unknown millennia, gargoyles struck a deal with the Church of Yondalla during the Siege of Mordheim to assure their own survival; now, more than four centuries later, these hulking devils serve the Hin as bodyguards, elite scouts, heavy infantry, and unstoppable delivery-mechanisms.

Locathah: The curious and grotesque locathah – who are said to intermingle freely with the humans of many remote island communities – are treated with grave suspicion by the Church of Yondalla, as they often act as spies, seducers, and saboteurs for the cults of Dagon. The few locathah able to earn the trust of the Church are still watched closely for any sign of heresy.

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Inhabitants of Perianth:

Gathlain: In the deepest woodlands of Perianth, far from the oversight of Elven noble houses, the bizarre gathlain wander the twilight; these odd entities claim to originate from an “adjacent” reality, one to which the doors have been shuttered.

The gathlain whisper that older, hungrier, and infinitely more powerful spirits of “the Forest Behind the Word” also lurk in the long shadows, slowly rebuilding their strength after a humiliating defeat -- and centuries of enslavement -- at the hands of a nameless elven witch-queen.

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Inhabitants of the Chain of Tears:

Ratfolk: Nearly exterminated a dozen times over by the warforged armies of the gnomes, with whom they once shared a home world, the ysoki are a cunning species of survivors who have adapted to life across the Chain of Tears with endless tenacity.

Goblin-Spore (SQ): Some percentage of ysoki are carriers for a curious strain of the goblin fungus (which births goblins, hobgoblins, orcs, and ogres) to which they alone are immune.

These special ysoki gain low-light vision, are immune to disease and poison, and are treated as Plant creatures -- in addition to being treated as humanoids with the ratfolk subtype -- for the purposes of a ranger’s favored enemy, for bane weapons, for feats, and for purposes of spells such as antiplant shell and horrid wilting, and for all similar effects, although these ysoki do not gain any other normal immunities, benefits, or traits of a true Plant creature.

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Inhabitants of Fenris:

A fair number of native species make the wilds of Verdura their home, many of them armed with Precursor technology and decidedly hostile to strangers. Among them are the Catfolk (tigers and snow leopards), Kitsune, Syrinx, and Tengu.

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Inhabitants of the Adamant Forge

Duergar: engineered slaves of the illithid, built via a foul twisting of the dwarven genetic code, duergar are not a common sight anywhere in Pyrespace except, perhaps, in the company of their horrid masters. That said, some duergar -- such as those dwelling on the Forge-Moon of Duerra -- have shattered the chains of their bondage and now walk free.

Goblin, Hobgoblin, and Orc: various subspecies born of the same strange fungal blooms (all of which possess the Goblin Spore Special Quality, above), sapient members of these races are rare in the extreme. That said, it is not completely unknown for an individual goblin, hobgoblin, or orc to “wake up”: becoming something significantly more complex than a mere weapon of genocide and extermination.

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UNIQUE RACES: Verdura, Fenris, the Chain of Tears, several moons, and even the wilds of Quelya are doubtlessly home to additional sapient species, still as yet undiscovered.

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SETTING

The setting is a single solar-system, Pyrespace, with several major & minor worlds.

WORLDS & NATIONS The Pyre: an incalculably vast stellar engine of incandescent plasma; small dark shapes — rumored to be ancient artifacts of the long-vanished Precursors — orbit the star tightly, flickering low across the endless ocean of flame (burning at an average of 6,000 degree Kelvin), diving through 13,000-mile-tall solar flares that routinely reach 10-20 million Kelvin (up to 100 million); these eerie & barely-visible shapes, whatever they may be, are utterly inaccessible to any modern space-vessel.

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Ashen: A storm-wracked world of dust & salt drifting upon an ocean of vacuum, covered in an inhospitable white desert slashed-through with low, jagged, slate-grey mountain ranges; this world hides strange ruins & wondrous treasures of the Precursors beneath its oceans of dust; it is considered strategically valuable both for its rare natural resources; dotted with Hin refineries, forts, border towns, resupply depots, and mining operations; home to strange native populations of kasatha, alongside clans of ifrit, oread, sylph, suli and undine (collectively known as the al’Zihad), who claim to have come to Ashen while bound in the service of the Precursors: inscrutable masters who once dwelt in a mysterious city trapped deep within the Celestial Pearl.

Ashen has two moons:

Anachtyr the Shining: A blinding-bright tempest-world of endless, boiling amythest-hued ocean studded with towering fumarole-vents dozens of miles in height; mighty coils of eye-searing azure lightning leap eternally between titanic these waterspouts, and the steam of this roaring planetoid can be seen drifting into the void: a haze that glitters like diamonds.

Lessinor the Masked: A world of heavy fog, dripping rust, creaking black tourmaline, and unending gloom, mantled in long shadows which writhe with ancient echoes and whispers, it is said that visibility on this planetoid has a maximum of 100 feet. Vast keeps, palaces, and even lightless cities of cyclopean gold-draped skeleons have been reported dotting the curious surface, but not one has ever been found a second time.

Approximately 10% of Ashen is actively subject to mining, exploitation, extraction and terraforming operations.

Major Cities of Ashen:

Acheron: a dug-in black-site military base / fortress-city / arcane research facility controlled by the Hin nation of Brandobaris

Core: a city-sized, semi-mobile mining and oil-rig facility controlled by the Hin nation of Arvoreen; a joint project with gnome & warforged diaspora from the Chain

Salt Lake: a religious-outreach community controlled by the Church of Yondalla, which seeks to convert the native al’Zihad to the worship of the goddess; this is by far the largest city on Ashen, and the central hub for all rail-travel on the planet.

image from here

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Verdura: a world of shallow oceans, towering mountain peaks, massive waterfalls, sprawling cave-systems, boiling mud-flats, impossible plateaus, icy ravines, echoing jungles, smoldering volcanos, bewildering river-systems, ancient lost ruins, and — above all — rainforest seemingly without end; home to an uncountable number of near-human species all-but-universally hostile to outsiders, many of whom are armed with ancient Precursor tech.

Hin rubber plantations, lumber mills, exotic “safari” hunting lodges, and industrial logging-facilities are therefore sprawling, heavily-militarized affairs

Although it boasts no truly massive cities, Verdura is host to the Hin colony of New Arvoreen, the center of Covington Farms – soon to be the breadbasket of the Pyrespace system – and a mountain-set Brandobarin research-station known as Thaumir. In addition, a small community of gnome diaspora have established the technological-marvel nation of Markovia, named for its Founder, Monarch and Supreme Leader, Dr. Adlai Markovitch (and his three nieces).

image from here

The Three Moons of Verdura:

Tiamat: A darkly-glittering, iridescent jungle of venom and razor-sharp glass, a shimmering wilderness of fog-shrouded valleys, viridian mire, and steam-wreathed peaks laid beneath a sky of eternally wheeling stars. Home to many of the deadliest insects and reptiles in the system, this endless deep-emerald hell is yet rumored to contain that most fantastic of treasures: the legendary la fonte della giovinezza: a mystic source of endless youth and vitality, guarded by an ancient knight – Sir Azharul of the Thorns – devoted utterly to the service of Yondalla … and to the execution of all unworthy seekers.

Bahamut: A golden moon of shifting desert sand and sky-rending thunderstorms, of dark clouds howling over rain-spattered platinum dunes, this world is sacred to many of the reptilian monstrosities that lurk in the jungles of Verdura. Priests among these creatures claim that once, long ago, doorways opened from their sacrifice-sites to a huge city of bone, a fantastic place fed by the twin rivers Luar and Kath, ruled-over by a red-skinned, leviathan humanoid: a grotesque thing, serpent-like, with four eyes and four ears, that shot flames from its mouth when it spoke. No true evidence of this fabled city, said to lie “behind the east wind,” has yet been discovered.

Chronepsis: A small, silver-grey ice-moon, this airless and barren world is riddled with vast doorways, leading down into bone-white palaces of titanic, cyclopean design. What treasure might lie within these pleasure-halls is unknown, as few who have ventured beneath the surface have ever returned. It is sung, by the heretical faith of Dagon, that two great serpents lair here – named Null and Faluzure – and that these creatures know, between them, the fate of the dragons … and time of their return.

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Quelya: a world of archipelagos, reefs, marbled sand, dark cerulean waves, and tropical island chains boasting only a handful of sizable land masses, dominated by the Hin (halflings) and their servitor-race, humanity; the hungry, expansionist, colonial-minded nations of the Hin are united only by the rule of a massive corrupt Church and a single vast, hyper-complex monetary system; the planet boasts but a single continent — the Green Fields of Yondalla – which are ruled-over by an ever-shifting array of Hin merchant-houses; in the furthest reaches of the world, shark skintwisters and locathah are rumored to bend the knee in loyalty to the strange and beautiful malenti, and to make horrid sacrifices to the coiling serpent Dagon.

HIN NATIONS / CITIES / HOLDINGS

Acheron: a Brandobarin military base / fortress-city / research base on Ashen

Arvoreen: an aggressive, militaristic nation noted for its perpetual war-footing, it maintains the finest navy in the system; the Arvorean Academy of War is famously egalitarian, admitting humans, half-elves, near-humans, and even warforged into its officer-training corps; national colors of red & gold.

Arvorean Male First Names: Alejandro, Fernando, Santiago, Antonio, Maceo, Francisco, Joaquin, Marco, Cristian, Javier, Rafael, Carlos

Arvorean Female First Names: Yamilet, Carmen, Valentina, Paloma, Lucia, Esmeralda, Alicia, Maria, Sofia, Luna, Catalina, Vida

Arvorean Last Names: García, Fernández, González, Rodríguez, López, Martínez, Sánchez, Pérez, Martín, Gómez, Ruiz, Hernández, Jiménez

Beshaba: The Hin holy city on the banks of the Rio Provendor (and its surrounding hills), most sacred site of Yondalla’s worship, currently self-ruled; the place where Gol-Kaa (the Last Human King of Beshaba) was slain by Saint Davian in single combat; national colors of white & sky blue.

Beshabite Male First Names: Dvir, Asaf, Asher, Elazar, Uriah, Reef, Aryah, Ofek, Yaheli, Arbel, Yinon, Idan

Beshabite Female First Names: Maayan, Danya, Liv, Shoshanna, Alean, Annael, Carmel, Eden, Avitel, Avia, Naama, Ofri

Beshabite Last Names: Ngaere, Zerbibi, Mishayev, Qablan, Magadla, Berdugo, Yayin, Sasi, Sharabani, Akiyva, Hagge, Siyvan, Tzviy

image from here

Brandobaris: an elegant, cultured nation noted for its arts and refinement, it maintains the finest academies of learning – in alchemy, wizardry, engineering, medicine, mathematics, law, history, and space-flight – in the system; national colors bright yellow & light grey; home to the three bitterly warring institutes of higher learning:

Archives Timmestre-Falco: home of both the finest telescope array and most complete orrery in the system.

Sincomakti School of Sciences: known for the deep pockets of its alumni – for use in funding elaborate expeditions – and a particularly notorious library.

Universidad de Lepidottero: specialists in medicine, mathematics, and forensic investigation, on the cutting edge of xenobiology.

Brandobarin Male First Names: Luca, Filippo, Marco, Pietro, Giovanni, Nicolo, Davide, Diego, Giuseppe, Edoardo, Tommaso, Andreas , Cosimo, Lorenzo, Ottaviano

Brandobarin Female First Names: Chiara, Nicole, Ludovica, Gaia, Matilde, Vittoria, Francesca, Alessia, Camilla, Bianca, Arianna, Elena

Brandobarin Last Names: Rossi, Berlusconi, Ferrari, Brambilla, Ricci, Greco, Esposito, Marino, Bianchi, Morelli, D’Angelo, Piazza, Caputo

Chaldira: a massive mining-city on Fenris; although it is ostensibly self-ruled under the auspices of a gnomish coalition from the Chain of Tears, in practice the city bows to the “supervision” of a Brandobarin wizarding-circle. Core: a city-sized, semi-mobile mining and oil-rig facility on Ashen, controlled by the Arvorean armada; a joint project with gnome & warforged diaspora from the Chain. Cyrrollalee: former home of the last human king; an enormous, incredibly-fertile nation noted for its high population of humans (mostly farmers); rumors persist among the superstitious peasantry of “fairy circles” in the woods that lead to other realms; national colors of green & dark blue

Cyrrolaelan Male First Names: Odhran (Orin), Rory, Tadhg (Tag), Senan, Cathal (Kat-hal), Rodnan, Aodham (Aiden), Callum, Eion (Ow-en), Rian (Ree-an), Fionn (Finn), Cillian (Killian), Declan

Cyrrolaelan Female First Names: Aoife (ee-fa), Caoimhe (kwee-va or kee-va), Saoirse (seer-sha), Ciara (kay-ra), Niamh (neev), Roisin (ro-sheen), Cara (ca-ra), Clodagh (clo-da), Aine (on-yah), Aislinn (ash-lin), Alys, Avalon

Cyrrolaelan Last Names: Murchadha (Murphy), Ó Ceallaigh (Kelly), Ó Súilleabháin (O’Sullivan), Breathnach (Walsh), Ó Broin (Byrne), Ó Conchobhair (O’Conner), Ó Raghallaigh (O’Reilly), Ó Dubhghaill (O’Doyle), Mac Carthaigh (McCarthy), Ó Gallchobhair (Gallagher), Ó Cinnéide (Kennedy), Ó Muireadhaigh (Murray), Ó Cuinn (Quinn), Ó Mordha (Moore), Mac Lochlainn (McLoughlin)

image from here

Dallah: a sin-soaked island city of gambling & revelry, part of the Tymoran island-chain; currently under self-rule; “national colors” of black & white Gixx: a floating city named for its watery host-moon, under Brandobarin control, orbiting the Crown of Sapphire Lagas: capital city of both Arvoreen and Brandobaris, existing along the border of both nations at the mouth of the Rio Provendor; a sacred city of the faith of Yondalla second only to the City & Lands of Beshaba

Important Sites in Lagas: The Rusted Sun Theatre, Parrish Place Bed & Breakfast, Café Molise, The Shuttered Door Academy

Important Hin residing in Lagas: Lord Mayor Emilio Dioceres, Archbishop Quirino Stephanos, Minister of Finance Alessio Villanova, Trade Minister Lazzaro Calistoga, Assistant Trade-Minister Dario Adalberto.

Moander: capital city of Cyrrollalee, built on the ruins of Dún Ailinne.

Mordheim: capital city of Urogolan, former home of “Uric, Last Human King of Urogolan”; this cold and half-tumbled fortress city, towering high above the treacherous stone of the Baía da Loucura, is choked in near-constant ice Perryroyal: massive island city at the far end of the Tymora island-chain that serves as the legendary “gateway to Xhiaae-La,” currently under the control of the Arvorean navy Salt Lake: a religious-outreach community on Ashen controlled by the Church of Yondalla, which seeks to convert the native al’Zihad to the worship of the goddess; this is by far the largest city on Ashen, and the central hub for all rail-travel on the planet Thaumir: a mountain-set Brandobarin research-station on Verdura Tymora: a particularly fertile chain of islands inhabited mostly by humans, currently ruled by the city of Dallah; the islands stretch from Lagas to Perryroyal.

Many traditional Tymoran names -- especailly those found in Dallah -- sound vaguely Greek to 21st-century human ears, but the islands are home to over 7,000 unique human cultures and no single list could possibly home to capure the length and breadth of the names used by Tymorans.

In addition, put bluntly, many people of the island chain simply do not think of themselves as “Tymoran,” but, rather, as members of a distinct culture under foreign occupation.

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Urogolan: grim, north-most Hin nation, noted for its vast mineral wealth, dense coniferous forests, fatalistic populace, and bleak weather; national colors of grey and black.

Urogalandic Male First Names: Ander, Hans, Johan, Ulf, Lars, Sven, Ivar, Leif (layf), Magnus, Ragnar, Sigurd (see-gurd), Herleif (her-leaf), Hjalmar (hyal-mahr), Njal (nj-al), Ødger (ed-ger), Roar (ruw-aar), Rune (ruw-n-eh), Sten (stehn), Trygve (trig-vah), Uhtred (oof-tred), gil (ee-yeh-gil), Einar (eye-nahr), Frey (fray), Geir (geyr), Gudbrand (good-brant), Gudmund (good-moond), Gunnar (guhn-nar), Hagen (hah-gen), Haldor (hahl-dawr), Halvar or Halvor (hahl-vahr), Jarl (yahr-al), Kåre (kehr), Aric (aar-ih-k), Arkyn (aar-khin), Brynjar (brin-yahr), Cuyler (kiel-ehr)

Urogalanadic Female First Names: Áma, Åse, Astra, Astrid, Borghild, Brynhild, Eir, Elli, Embla, Erica, Liva, Ragnfríðr, Revna, Rúna, Saga, Sigrid, Sif, Freya, Heidrun, Hildr, Hrefna, Hulda, Kara

Urogalandic Last Names: Any of the above Urogalandic male first names, with one of the following added to the end: sen, son, sson, søn, datter, dotter, or dottir

Xhiaae-La: legendary islands of gold & jade just beyond Tymora, source of human unarmed martial fighting techniques highly valued by Hin employers; currently under Brandobarin control

Xhiaae-Lan Male Names: Liang, Haoran, Zhen, Shufen, Ling, Lan, Kaihong, Taio, Shui, Qui, Jin, Chun, Ai, Bao

Xhiaae-Lan Female Names: Annchi, Baozhai, Changying, Chao-Xing, Chuntao, Da-Xia, Daiyu, Ehuang, Fenfang, Genji, Hu, Huian

Xhiaae-Lan Family Names: (spoken & written first) Shao, Long, Wàn, Zhāng, Qián, Tāng, Yǐn, Lí, Yì, Cháng, Wǔ, Qiáo, Lài, Gōng, Wén

Zuzadlara: an Arvorean military-base and floating “port city” on Perianth, established to assist Elven forces in maintaining peace across the system.

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Perianth: the elven home-world, a mist-wreathed, twilight-draped bioengineered “forest of prosperity” constructed by the Precursors via unknown means; the deep woodlands are said to hold terrifying gateways to other realms of existence; the courts of the elves are closed to outsiders, and non-elves are permitted access only to a vanishingly small number of sky-ports; the elves of both the Western Courts and Eastern Courts alike do a brisk trade in humans bought from the Hin, and some reports suggest that only 3% of the planetary population is actually elven.

Perianth is “ruled” by House Larethian, although the high throne of that House – that of the Phoenix Emperor (Western Court) or Moonlight Dragon (Eastern Court) – stands empty, as does the throne of his bride: Lolth, the Beautiful Eclipse (Western Court) or Lolth, the Crimson Empress (Eastern Court).

The favor of House Larethian is a currency traded by the other noble Houses; the Western Court name is given for each House first, followed by the Eastern Court name:

House Fleuris / House Kaika: painters, vintners, and rose-garden keepers.

House Sanglante / House Chimanire: the most-expert sword-smiths and sword-saints.

House Chanceux / House Kōun'na: Imperial record-keepers, known for their prodigious luck.

House Illustre / House Kagayakashī: the most beautiful and honorable house, known for their mastery of dance.

House Assombrir / House Kage-tsuki: the lowest of the noble houses, experts in medicine.

Perianth is not known to have any major cities, although each House maintains a number of holdings.

Western Court Male Names: Baillieu, Ménétries, Bachelot, Peletier, Bocuse, Marius, Théophile, Roland, Ancel, Thibaut, Sylvain, Médard, Chauve, Rémy, Maret

Western Court Female Names: Solène, Élisa, Émeline, Joséphine, Ameline, Neri, Mélanie, Coline, Émilienne, Iseult, Asselineau, Eulalie, Roxanne

Eastern Court Male Names: Hyotoki, Gatane, Yamitsu, Dainaga, Akihiko, Yori, Hideaki, Kazuhiro, Wantaro, Anoye, Gezushi, Sesuki, Teitada, Hiroaki, Noboru

Eastern Court Female Names: Haitsuke, Narino, Reinatsu, Maera, Benomi, Kohaku, Kayo, Miyako, Aya, Shizuka, Komina, Jionuye, Kakura, Amiri, Reiko, Yuki, Emi

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The Spider-Moon

The sole satellite of Perianth, a massive labyrinthine ruin to-which one third of the elves — the drow — were exiled long ago; the drow are no longer trapped beneath the surface of the Spider-Moon due to the hideous gifts of the illithid. This oversized nightmare realm is ruled by House Lolth and her loyalists: exiled members of all five noble Houses and their servants. This inhospitable world boasts only a single major trade-hub: the Dark City of Xogotha.

Any type of direct approach on the Spider Moon must find a way to navigate the tens of thousands of floating dead (and undead) – casualties of the Unseelie War – still drifting in orbit around the planetoid. For their part, the drow use this corpse-field as a blockade, employing necromancy to bypass the horror-show whenever necessary.

Drow names are identical to elven names.

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The Celestial Pearl: a mysterious planet-sized anomaly bearing what appears to be a perfectly smooth, bone-white surface: this ghostly pale sphere has no atmosphere and no magnetic field, no geographical features, no marks consistent with any meteoric impact, no evidence of historical habitation, a surface temperature of 3 Kelvin, and a core temperature zero Kelvin. The curious surface itself – which appears to be an impossibly-thin crystalline latticework of monomolecular razor-ribbons covered in a few drifting inches of ice-powder, white sand, ash, and stardust – cannot be landed-upon or even approached: weird, invisible, immovable “arches” — made of something harder than adamantium — protrude in a strange, coiling web of whorls into space, reaching up to 500 miles away from the surface.

Zionil: Largest space-station in the system, nearly a moon onto itself, this massive gnomish facility serves as an informal way-station -- a respected, nearly sacred neutral ground -- between the “inner worlds” of Ashen, Verdura, Quelya, and Perianth; and the “outer worlds”: the Crown of Sapphire and the Chain of Tears, Fenris, and Moradin’s Forge.

It also serves as the ultimate melting-pot of cultures across Pyrespace: here, humans dressed in fashionable gnomish top-hats & tails rub shoulders with dwarves travling to jobs on Ashen & half-orcs en route to Verdura.

Dominated by the enormous Cathedral of St. Deneir the Scribe and House of St. Mili, the Voice of Heaven, sprawling centers of worship for the Church of Yondalla, Zionil is also home to a huge Xhaaie-Lan population; the Lantan Shipyards are without a doubt the finest facilities in the system for the design & construction of Hin-built spelljamming vessels.

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The city is unofficially under the control of Baronet Giancarlo Lugocelli of Fenris, a devout human aristocrat admired across the system for his shrewd buisness accumen and unbridled civic spirit.

This artificial moon also serves as home to The Thirteenth: an emergency garrison of specially-designed warforged kept in reserve to make a surgical-strike wherever the threat of Hive activity is detected outside the heavily quarantined moons of Segojan (Hive Colony Euclid), Baervan (Hive Colony Keter), Baravar (Hive Colony Thaumiel), and Urdlen (Hive Colony Apollyon); this force is led by Inquisitor Francesca DiAccursio of La Universidad de Lepidottero as part of a massive anti-xenos taskforce.

An increasing number of dwarves from Moradin’s Forge also now make a holy pilgrimage here to the Muamman Duathal: a library of dwarven law, history, technological innovation, achivement, literary scholarship, and art nearly the equal to the catacombs of lost Dugmaren.

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The Crown of Sapphire & the Chain of Tears: an enormous, shining, many-ringed cerulean gas-giant, host to a dozen moons (listed below) and the long trail of an asteroid belt which follows behind it; the Crown roars with low heat and mild radiation, serving as a “second sun” to the system. As to the means by which the Precursors performed this “stellar uplifting” and manipulated the interior of the Crown, it is impossible to say.

About 70% of the “chain” following behind the Crown was originally the home-world of the gnomes – once known as Kruug od Szlatta, or the ‘Circle of Gold’ – and their many miraculous inventions, which was shattered utterly as the result of a run-away hyper-energy reaction; big money can be made out here, sifting the clockwork wreckage and mining interplanetary debris for rarities; the finest technology in the known universe can be found here: powering the cities, foundries, refineries, sky-docks, casinos, space stations, laboratories, and bio-manufactora which float together in complex nets through the wild void.

Moons of the Sapphire Crown:

Garl: now the largest of the moons, a gem-studded planetoid home to a huge number of scattered mineral-mining operations, including Blistavo Zlatta: now the default capital-city of the gnome people, formerly known best as a decadent, lawless, off-world trade-hub town full of casinos, amusements, cunning illusions, and other cheap entertainments.

Gelth: second largest of the moons, a dark spheroid of endless seething lava-flats, smoldering radioactive pools, toxic black smoke, and jagged obsidian blades miles in height. Home to a small number of mining-colonies (which are outnumbered 10-1 by the destroyed remnants of exactly such facilities).

Callarduran: third largest of the moons, a place of icy-cold wind whistling through thousands of miles of smooth stone tunnels, home to the finest stone-crafting workshops in the system.

Flandal: a hot, near-barren planetoid rich in iron and a number of other valuable metals … but, very specifically, boasting neither water nor arable land. Successfully cleared of all Hive infection after the eradication of Hive Colony Nehemoth in 1463; classified as safe.

Gixx: a fog-shrouded shallow-sea water-world currently occupied by a floating Brandobarin city.

Segojan: a smog-shrouded death-world of fungus and alien monsters, home to Hive Colony Euclid.

Baervan: a lost moon, once a twilight forest-world, now home to Hive Colony Keter; also home to the mysterious, floating Library of the Eremite.

Baravar: a shadowy crystalline moon now home to Hive Colony Thaumiel.

Urdlen: home to nothing but an icy, red-tinged ocean that flows silently between towering black spires, this bleak world now plays host to Hive Colony Apollyon.

Gaerdal: a heavily fortified workshop-moon, now 99% destroyed; original “birthplace” of the warforged.

Nebelun: the still-smoldering remains of a desert laboratory-world, dotted with blackened pits connected by a vast webwork of now-shattered elevated railways.

Rupa u Beskonačnom (the Hole in the Infinite): although not a true moon, this small artificial wormhole drifts in orbit around the Crown of Sapphire, occasionally spiting-out weird horrible alien monsters: the nearby moons of Segojan (Hive Colony Euclid), Baervan (Hive Colony Keter), Baravar (Hive Colony Thaumiel), and Urdlen (Hive Colony Apollyon) are infected with a terrifying strain of bizarre alien life; the wormhole is currently orbited by a small armada of mysterious githyanki ships native to another solar system.

Major Cities of the Chain of Tears:

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Discord: The largest city adrift in the Chain is also the largest city system-wide; in terms of sheer population, only the holy city of Lagas on Quelya even comes close. Discord is a sprawling affair, composed of innumerable asteroids and earth-bergs lashed-together with sparking remnants from hundreds – if not thousands – of derelict and damaged SpellJamming vessels. Although the gnomish population of Discord is lightly smaller than that of Blistavo Zlatta, on Garl, gnomes and their warforged security units run much of the city: High Master Artificer Krenlin maintains strict order among the scoundrels, spacehands, and fortune-seekers … at least, in the neighborhoods capable of paying for his protection. The black markets of Discord’s underbelly are run by gangs of ysoki (ratfolk), dwarves, half-orcs, half-elves, more bizarre human-offshoots, locathah, kasatha, unique creatures from the wilds of Verdura and Fenris, and even drow. Significantly more uncommon are goblins, orcs, and ogres – ancient enemies of the dwarves – and Perianth-born elves; although Hin are occasionally spotted here, it’s incredibly rare to see one without an escort … such as a lumbering Church-sanctioned gargoyle or a heavily-armed mercenary crew.

Serenity: Known better by its inhabitants as ‘Scarcity,’ this ugly warren of trash and filth is – to those with the keen eyes to see it – a goldmine of opportunity. If the ysoki can lay claim to a home-world, this is it: the majority of the population here is ratfolk, and their laws guide the city … for good or for ill. Part of a dense asteroid-field known for dangerous gravitational eddies, the port of Serenity is a haven for pirates and criminals wanted in every other metropolis.

Linger: The last glorious remnants of the Circle of Gold are kept here, a city-sized museum dedicated to the memory of that devastated world, and to honoring the uncounted millions who perished in the flare of its destruction. It is a place of quiet luxury and high technology, where the very wealthiest of those who do business in Discord can pretend – if only for a few hours – that the Circle of Gold was never broken.

Gnomish Male Names: Andrija, Nikola, Luka, Marko, Aleksandr, Jovan, Nemanja, Matija, Miloje, Miroslav, Rodavan, Vlado, Zivko,

Gnomish Female Names: Aleksandra, Teodora, Jana, Katarina, Petra, Malina, Milena, Maja, Hana, Anja, Milica (miy-LIH-ts-a), Sara, Nina

Gnomish Last Names: Jovanović, Petrović, Nikolić, Marković, Đorđević, Stojanović, Ilić, Stanković, Pavlović, Milošević, Katić, Sinđelić, Nedić, Marić, Višnjić, Janjić, Sarić, Miličić, Milenić, Natalić, Zorić, Smiljić, Anđelić

Warforged Names: any; names of warforged are self-selected, are not derived from family, and may be drawn from any culture.

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Fenris: A frozen, rocky world of icebergs & fathomless oceans, mighty fjords, roaring hot springs, steaming river-valleys, shrieking tundra, rolling steppes, drifting ice-floes, frigid marshland, deep emerald forest, and seething volcanoes; it is “ruled-over” by a minority population of warring giants, who tear themselves fully-formed from the simmering ley-lines of the living planet; in their long shadow, bold survivors face the fierce wrath of endless winter; some clans scratch out a meager, subsistence-level hunter-gatherer existence, while others build great longhouses, fortresses, and onion-domed cathedrals of wood & stone, defying the giants; beneath the surface of the world, enchanted mechanical castles — home to slumbering vampire lords — wait in silence to be called-forth for the night-hunt.

Humans and half-orcs “native” to Fenris tend toward Cyrrolaelan and Urogalandic names, suggesting some truth to the legends of doorways in the deep woods leading between Quelya and Fenris.

The massive, smoldering, heavily-entrenched mining-city of Chaldira employs tens of thousands of workers, including innumerable indentured humans and near-humans imported from Quelya by the hundreds through the Church-sanctioned penal transportation program; most such workers are branded, upon arrival, to prevent their disappearance into the local human communities. Specialized squads of “workforce retention agents” operating under Brandobarin authority maintain an uneasy peace with nearby human enclaves … though both groups wisely fear the fury of giants, who on occasion choose to assault the veritable fortress of Chaldira seemingly out of pure malice.

Beyond humans, dwarves comprise the bulk of Chaldira’s employees; outright violence in the barracks between dwarves and their orc-blooded coworkers is frowned upon, punishable by both monetary fine and loss of privileges, but is still not uncommon. Gnomes, warforged, and even ratfolk form the Chain of Tears are also common sights, as are Hin mages and their gargoyle bodyguards, although the only thing rarer than a native of Verdura here is an elf.

For their own part, the native catfolk, kitsune, syrinx, and tengu give Chaldira a wide berth: the huge, heavily militarized mining-city has, for the most part, nothing to offer them.

Moons of Fenris

Bahgtru: A hot, dark, ash-swept landscape of dense black forests, broiling deserts, flinty badlands, murky rivers, and foreboding seas, all bearing the ravages of constant war waged beneath a coal-streaked and starless sky. A dozen or more major orc-blood nations vie for control of this resource-rich, twilight-lit world; the largest single military force – the Broken Skull Clan, led by a hulking creature called Moragrek – dominates less than 10% of the planetoid. In the deepest woodlands, orcs fly crude marrow-stained, gut-stitched banners above fallen towers still sparking with ancient Precursor-tech.

Ilneval: Floating mountains, coiling moebius-spiral waterfalls, serpentine valleys filled with boiling fog, forests of glass, a series of artificial rings, cities of broken fractal room-recursions, walking Precursor-tech “transport-facilities” the size of nations, and stranger landmarks dot this bizarre world. Worse still, the goblin-fungus of this moon has underdone a wild number of dangerous mutations, producing varieties of dangerous goblinoid entities unknown anywhere else in Pyrespace.

Luthic: A damp, echoing, rain-drenched world with a low-burning core, this windswept planetoid sees surprisingly few dangerous meteorological events – considering the near-constant cloud cover -- and features only very mild tectonic activity. As such, impossible caverns filled with warm mushroom forests abound, grazed-upon by bizarre, blind half-fungal elk. This world is by far the economically valuable of the Fenris-moons, a veritable goldmine for its Brandobarin investors; transportation to this moon is a sentence dreaded by every human living under the Church of Yondalla’s laws.

Obould: Miles upon miles of long-fallen ruins – twisting, elegant citadels of what appears to have been ancient elven construction – crisscross this rime-coated world, buried in miles upon miles of shattered ice; unfortunately, whatever strange process causes the planet Fenris to vomit-forth giants from its ley-lines is also active here: titans of frost wander the wastes, obedient to three mysterious warlords: the Shogun of Crimson Snowfall, the Shogun of the Endless Dark, and the Shogun of Winterblind.

Shargaas: High above the roiling toxic cloud-cover, cold mountain-peaks spill miles-long waterfalls from smoldering calderas; far below, falling ash and acidic sleet fall silently on the dark glass libraries of the Precursors. It is said that nothing moves here, in the realm of dead furnaces: a planetoid fallen to night. In the winding passages beneath the dormant facilities, however – the strange passages linking the long abandoned “colleges” of Hopelorn, Cold Fever, and the Citadel of Vanished Audience – somethingold and unclean can be heard clicking-away … hungry, and drawing ever closer.

Vaprak: Trolls are an infectious, predatory presence known across Pyrespace: Verdura, Tiamat, the forests of Cyrrollalee and Urogolan, the wooded isles of Tymora, the Crown-moon of Baervan, and upon most of the Fenris-moons & Forge-moons; in fact, it is believed (but not confirmed by the elves) that trolls may even be known in the wild places of Perianth. No place, however, can be said to have been conquered by the trolls like this horrid planetoid: an endless morass of sinking stonework and icy-cold swamp, a place of stench and the low whine of blood-mad insects.

Yurtrus: Miles below the Brandobarin military research-facility of Khin-Oin, a planet-sized city of war-ravaged, long-overgrown Precursor-tech glitters in the cold sunrise … while another neighborhood, connected by monorails that blur between districts faster than the speed of sound, shines like an ocean of light on the other side of nightfall. The city – nicknamed “Fleshslough” by the researchers who drift in orbit high above, perpetually examining the curious urban properties – is a vast thing of austere, ever-moving wonderment: whatever incurable, perversely-contagious disease hangs in the warm air reduces skin to boiling crimson horror in mere moments.

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Moradin’s Forge: this hyper-dense, heavily volcanic planet is just over half the size of Quelya, yet it commands a significantly more massive gravity well. Although it boasts a minimal surface atmosphere, it serves as the home world of dwarves, goblins, ogres, hobgoblins, and orcs; it is also the staging-ground for an illithid invasion-force with control over a supermassive wormhole situated somewhere beyond the edge of the known solar system; illithid forces include any number of alien monstrosities (many mutated or bio-manipulated by the illithid) stolen from a hundred different systems, of which orcs are the newest prize; 80% of all dwarves system-wide live in bondage beneath the heel of the illithid.

A single rebel city, secret in the extreme, is hidden in the shadows of otherwise-absolute illithid dominance: Veil, last hope of the Forge.

Dwarven Male First Names: Hakk, Osrick, Drok, Brut, Muls, Grold, Urbrik, Aandrak, Buulrol, Kigrer, Fraysik, Korvin, Vog, Bellbaarg

Dwarven Female First Names: Yorgwyn, Urgwan, Rren, Inngva, Kledgeg, Lonnvull, Urrgvi, Kalbri, Khora, Sro, Ohlih, Hyylkis, Memrii

Dwarven Clan Names: Grandmaul, Stonehall, Winterstride, Thunderhand, Icevein, Wargold, Blackstone, Runelore, Heartstrong, Ironblaze, Steelfist, Greysky, Shieldhorn, Axetusk, Proudburn, Stormedge

A NOTE ON DWARVEN NAMING CUSTOMS

Dwarves are hardly a monoculture, and each dwarf has dealt with the loss of Moradin’s Forge in an intensely personal way. Some dwarves have taken to answering only to their Clan name (their first name forever, abandoned), while others refuse to speak their Clan name aloud until they stand once more in the re-taken hall of their ancestors; some dwarves have founded entirely new off-world lineages -- such as Clan Dustblade of Ashen -- and some have adopted themselves into existing bloodlines: Clan Malov, the “dwarven branch” of the Malovitch crime-family is, of course, the most famous of these.

Orc, Goblin, Ogre, Hobgoblin Names: Wurgoth, Gradba, Azuk, Speghat, Cagan, Wilaktug, Sbghat, Omegugh, Fogugh, Braugh, Oggugat, Yegoth, Oogorim, Vothug, Nildud, Golag, Bugharz, Zguk, Ombilge, Zudagog, Tothag, Sogg, Narfug, Ergoth, Xorag, Orpigig, Agronak, Orakh, Xulgug, Fudagog

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Moons of the Forge AKA “The Morndinsamman”:

Abbathar: A shimmering world of vast iron pyrite slabs floating across a seething ocean of molten lead, shot-through with veins of plutonium. Extreme weather events triggered by mega-scale Precursor tech embedded at the moon’s poles – still barely understood, even in theory – routinely cause the surface temperature and atmospheric pressure to reach or exceed 4,000 degrees Kelvin and 18 gigapascals (2,610,680 pounds per square inch): converting portions of the atmosphere into solid, crystalline “red oxygen” while shattering the vast methane-plumes into sheets of pure diamond.

Berronar: A temperate world of steep valleys and winding natural cave systems, with a craggy mineral-rich surface marked by broad streams and small hardwood forests, this served for nearly seven centuries as the “second home” of the dwarven people, founded soon after first contact with gnomes from the Circle of Gold. The early loss of this quiet paradise-moon, along with the entirety of its population, to the illithid during their invasion was a brutal blow to the Clans of the Forge.

Clangeddin: A storm-wracked world of mighty fortresses and massive iron-foundries, this was the very last of Forge-moons to fall: its bleak surface is still marked with endless fields of the unburied war dead, broken banners, and mighty siege-engines half-buried in seas of ash. The endless lightning strikes are said to illuminate black rivers of goblin-fungus running between the most hallowed halls and treasure-filled tombs of the ancient dwarven kings: funerary-stone and pale gold circlets trod into the grey mud.

Duerra: In some ways, on certain battle-fronts, it can be said that the dwarven race yet stands: roaring in open, bloodthirsty, unrelenting defiance of the illithid and all their servants. On this inhospitable planetoid, a vast labyrinth of toxic metal-tainted pools, rusted razor wire, and dizzying mineshafts once used to extract silver, iron, gemstones, and titanium by the cubic ton, two rogue creations of the illithid – the duergar and the dark naga – wage endless war in the dark, focusing the psychic energies of their cold anger on killing anything that so much as looks at them sideways … and plotting, always, to escape the oubliette and shackle the universe as their slave.

Dugmaren: What was once the center of all dwarven scholarship – the eternal echoing repository of some thirty centuries of discovery, poetry, engineering, innovation, and invention, the epicenter of all history recorded by the Clans of the Forge, the memories of a people writ in rune – has been lost. None can say how many tomes and testaments were lost during the Battle of Dugmaren, put to the torch and the axe … nor how many of the great, austere library-moon’s sacred record-keepers were devoured by the rapacious illithid, their minds stolen to be used as horrid weapons against the living. For those who treasure the knowledge of ages, the fall of Dugmaren was perhaps the greatest loss of all.

Dumathoin: A lightless world, shrouded in constant slate-grey cloud-cover, riddled with dangerous – yet fantastically lucrative! – gemstone cave systems of seemingly limitless depth. In the many centuries of its exploration, it yet continues to reveal strange new secrets: some treacherous, some fantastic, all of them beautiful and curious in the extreme. Legends suggest that the winding passages here are truly limitless: that the halls curl back on themselves, leading to tunnels beneath the surface of the Forge, the Spider-Moon, the sands of Ashen, the tombs of Chronepsis, the vampire-castles of Fenris, and even the strange armor of the Celestial Pearl.

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Gorm: A cruel planetoid, a howling nightmare of treacherous, winding obsidian passageways, covered in goblin-fungus and lit only by the low blood-red flickers of a hateful molten core, the Gauntlet of Gorm was once the final testing-ground of the greatest dwarven warriors and the finest dwarven armor: here, unstoppable heroes and unbreakable shields alike were forged. Fallen, now, to the illithid, the retaking of unassailable Gorm may yet represent the last, best hope of the dwarven people.

Haela: The imposing mountain peaks of this glimmering moon are carved with the likenesses of the great clan leaders, the eternal Kings and Queens of the Forge. Beneath their austere gaze, feuding clans have, for centuries, set aside their hate and their bloodthirst to settle generations-old grudges through honorable challenge: tests of skill-at-arms, bravery, strength, endurance, mettle, riddling, drinking, cunning, and even the gift of poetry. The halls here have fallen silent, picked-at now by lean, faceless nightmare predators: misshapen things born under unclean stars.

Laduguer: A hard world wrapped in chill grey mist, a moon of foul reputation and terrible whispers drifting on the winds beneath the stone. Under a steel-grey sky flickering with impossible darkness, bottomless pits sparkling with adamantine and black diamonds rend a jagged landscape of petrified Precursor tech: shattered alien weapons, armor, engines, towers, biological experiments, and massive shipwrecks of sea, star, and air, all transformed to iron. Vast, gaping holes in the surface – some miles across – open into mazeworks of silver and mithral, precious blood-onyx and fantastic skymetals, the tunnels lit by the twisting glimmer of an unwholesome and unnatural flame. The icy peaks of this foreboding moon are home to three long-abandoned dwarven strongholds: the Citadel of the White Rose, the Fortress Hammergrim, and the Throne Perilous.

Marthammor: A wild and far-wandering forest moon of geysers and thermal vents, known for its near-constant earthquakes, its towering native flora and fauna, its softly luminescent gemstones, it extreme and unpredictable weather, and – perhaps best of all – for its sprawling subterranean woodlands: vast, steaming caverns filled with trees adapted to survive seemingly without need of sunlight. Legends speak of doorways in the deep woods to other worlds, and ancient elven runes – some millennia old – can be found carved alongside incomprehensible alien glyphs on the many moss-covered marble pillars, stairs, ivory archways of long-fallen ruins.

Sharindlar: A dusky, crimson and rose-gold planetoid of impossible buttes, wide mesas, abundant hot springs, and huge naturally occurring stone “monuments” interlaced with warm shallow seas, all brushed with glittering, coral-pink sandbars, echoing grottos, and wide white beaches. The rare minerals and exotic plant life of this moon are said to possess a variety of astonishing medicinal properties, capable of restoring life, joy, and vitality to even the most crippled form. A massive temple – seemingly of dwarven construction, yet over 7,000 years old – rises from a golden hillside surrounded by circles of great standing-stones, marked by runes of indecipherable origin.

Thard Harr: Thought to be the ancient origin-point of goblin-fungus, the so-called Labyrinth of Life is home to terrible, primordial beasts seen nowhere else in Pyrespace. This bizarre, sweltering jungle world is stacked in “layers” of independently-floating, constantly shifting plateaus, all orbiting a single boiling ocean: the destination of all waterfalls and the source of constant warm mist and heavy rain. For reasons yet unknown, the maddening complexities of this moon are well-recorded in the oral histories of many monstrous species dwelling on Verdura, who claim to have walked star-paths to this place – for purposes of tending to a mysterious “Temple of the Deceiver / Serpent-Father” – in ancient days.

Vergadain: A small planetoid of gentle hills and clear lakes with a wide orbit, this moon was – for nearly seven centuries, since 1051 A.D. – the preferred meeting-ground to facilitate trade between the races of gnome and dwarf. In the wake of utter cataclysm befalling the shattered gnome home world (in 1492 A.D.), a number of wealthy and prominent gnomish merchant-families established permanent residence here at the heartfelt invitation of their friends among the Clans of the Forge; the casual annihilation of those families by the illithid at their outset of the invasion was a horrific shock to both races.

#pathfinder #spelljammer

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wisteria-lodge · 3 years

Text

snake primary + snake secondary (bird model)

Hello! I recently discovered your blog and really love the thought you’ve put into the nuances of the SHC system. I’m super into these kinds of personality analysis systems (I’ve probably been through them all at this point) because I think it’s interesting to know how people tick - I also think self-awareness is important so that you know why you do what you do, essentially. I took the SHC quiz and it told me I was a Snake Primary with a Bird Model, and a Bird Secondary with a Snake Model. I agree that I’m probably a (somewhat petrified) Snake Primary with a strong Bird Model, but I’m not sure which is my true secondary and which is the model. Maybe you can help?

I can sure try :)

Some things about me: I’m an oldest daughter, and I’m almost 100% sure my dad is a Bird Snake and I *idolized* him as a child - I thought he had it all figured out. He was the Zeus to my Athena in my child’s eyes, and I think I got my Bird primary model very early from copying him.

I mean, I know what you mean in a “sole creator” sense, but there is no *way* Athena thought Zeus had it all figured out.

My two younger brothers are a Lion Snake and a Lion Badger, and my mother is possibly a Double Badger, though I’m not as sure about her - maybe she just thinks that she *should* be a Double Badger. I think all that is important to help illustrate that I didn’t really feel *at home* when I was with my family, though I loved them, since I was the only Snake. My parents also had a terrible relationship and are now divorced, so there’s that as well. I think the only time I have ever been truly morally outraged was the revelation that my dad had engaged in infidelity against my mom, and then again when he started dragging his feet over a promise the he had made my youngest brother. We didn’t speak for a long time after that incident, but I was really cut up over dropping him.

Oh yeah. That’s very Snake primary. Morally outraged because your People are getting hurt.

We eventually started to reconcile, and the only reason we did was because he called and said he was driving through my city one day, and even after all of that, I said yes to meeting up because I felt sad that I had dropped him. I think this family dynamic, plus some other childhood stuff, led to me sort of “checking out” and petrifying pretty early.

Just a theory - I think it’s possible that this hit your secondary more than it hit your primary. You seem pretty strong and confident in your Snake primary so far. Even the fact that you can identify it coming from such a non-Snake environment, and don’t feel guilty about it, is big.

I had a lot of trouble making friends in school.

I’m thinking this might be more of a secondary thing.

and generally ended up with like one friend who was the other weird girl, and who I always sort of kept at arm’s length emotionally. I moved schools several times as a kid and after the first best friend (who was the daughter of my mom’s best friend and was like a sister to me until she moved away), I really didn’t try too hard to make new “best” friends.

Hmm. See, this reads like a *default* friend to me, not a friend of choice. The other weird girl. The daughter of your mom’s friend. That’s an easy friend to have… and not one that you necessarily sought out. I’m not surprised that your primary didn’t latch onto her with that Snake intensity.

Even now, though I definitely have concentric circles of loyalty and a significant other who is my “top person”, I’m not sure I have that blind Snake I-would-literally-die-for-you loyalty toward anyone - I’d kill or hide a body for my top circles

That *is* Snake loyalty. Snakes aren’t going to die for someone else, are you kidding? That’s a sucker’s game. They value themselves too much.

I would give up a lot of my own comfort for my significant other. Maybe I’m just afraid to let myself feel that unquestioning loyalty, though I want to feel it, or maybe I’m really a Bird and just want to be a Snake because that would mean I could be un-broken eventually.

Let’s talk about your secondary, I want to hear about how you think you’re broken, because so far you seem fine. Congrats on the SO!

I don’t think I’m an Idealist though - I’m surrounded by them and I know I don’t care about “principles” the way they do. Then again, maybe I’m a Bird whose truth is that moral relativism is the truth lol. Anyway, I think for my primary, I’m probably a petrified Snake with a Bird model unless I’m totally wrong about myself.

I think you’re just a Snake who… is a Snake.

(you’ve got that Birdy influence though, from your dad, and they do like to complicate things.)

As for my secondary, I loved to read (everything - all kinds of fiction, especially sci-fi/fantasy/mystery and, like, Victorian sci-fi/horror adventures, nature books, medical texts, etc. Wikipedia was a revelation when it came out), and I was smart and good at taking tests and knowing the answers in school, so at a certain point I think I just defaulted to being “the smart one” and used that as armor to help keep people from getting too close.

yep yep yep, welcome to the ‘fun Bird model’ club, we have snacks

I do genuinely love to learn, and I’ve always been known among friends and family as the one who either knows the answer or will look it up. I love pop culture trivia and nature facts. I also love and am good at debate, but not really when real feelings are involved - I more love the “battle of wits” aspect, where I can match up against a person to see if my knowledge and ability to adapt my argument on the fly can stump them.

I also would argue the unpopular point, or the point I didn’t agree with, just for sport. Fun Bird secondary model.

I developed terrible anxiety and probably some depression as well in high school.

Okay, now I’m seeing the problem.

and now that I’m older, I suspect that I may have ADHD, though I haven’t been officially assessed. I didn’t discover my executive function issues really until college, when suddenly being smart and being able to figure out the test answers through context clues and what I remembered from lectures and readings + whatever trivia I had gathered about the topic wasn’t enough anymore.

I suspect you’re right about being ADHD. Or at least being neruodivergent.

I am horrible at studying! I would plan out my study sessions and make these nice little cheat sheets (these were allowed on exams) and they didn’t work at all! I did very well in my literature minor though, because all the graded assignments were papers rather than open-answer tests, and I could get my thoughts out better and with more resources at my disposal if I forgot something and needed to go back to the book to check.

Oh ouch. Yeah, I’m not even relating this back to a secondary, because I’m reading this as a working memory thing? Like ugh tests are such a terrible way access knowledge. What is even the *point* of memorization anymore? You should have been able to have a college career that was completely writing papers, like I did.

I was at one point very jealous of my Lion Snake brother, who I felt could do “whatever he wanted” with minimal consequences, while I always felt constrained by being “good” and not rocking the boat too much with my family.

Yep. That’s being an oldest daughter.

I couldn’t understand why he didn’t seem to care about being considerate to everyone else in the household (especially my chronically overworked, can’t-say-no Badger mom lol).

It’s because he’s the youngest. Mine’s the same.

This attitude was definitely influenced by my anxiety issues at that time, since I had (and still have) a lot of trouble asking for anything - help, permission, whatever. I’d rather do things and explore on my own, without anyone watching, so I don’t have to ask and don’t have to explain.

Did you low-key raise your younger siblings? Because it sounds like you raised your siblings.

I feel better with a little bit of distance, and definitely wear masks in most situations. I’d say my masks are half conscious and half reactive - I do have some idea of how I’d like to be perceived, but it’s only kind of systematic.

That makes me think Snake or Badger secondary.

I have a few “characters” that I use as touchpoints when I’m going into a new situation, but once I’m there I mostly just act nice and funny and see what happens.

So far I’m going with Badger secondary (be nice and and assume it’ll be fine is very badger) with a fun Bird secondary model, that you can do an Actor Bird thing with. Although liking to “just see what happens” is pretty snake.

The characters are really just costumes I use to give off a certain first impression, although I do really like the costumes and find them fun. I love clothes, makeup, and perfume too, because I enjoy the idea of making multidimensional costumes for different settings. I actually enjoy the mask a lot of the time - I have tattoos that are purposefully in places that I can cover easily, because I enjoy the idea that there’s something under the professional mask that people only know about if I show them. I’m a bit socially awkward I think (I repeat myself and talk a lot), but most people tend to either like me or tolerate me, and I don’t get into a lot of interpersonal conflicts.

Hm. Either Courtier Badger or Snake secondary, fun Bird secondary model. However. Especially after talking about your Actor Bird in such fun, positive, happy language… I am going to call you out for “socially awkward” and “people tolerate me.” Which tells me you don’t have as much faith in your social skill set, and it’s *maybe* a little burnt.

(Also, not to get too armchair psychologist tell-me-about-your-mother, but if your mom has a “chronically overworked, can’t-say-no” Badger secondary… that’s going to affect how you see Badger secondaries.)

Right now I work in a very Badger/Bird workplace, and it’s really a terrible fit, even though I can squeak by enough to fool my superiors into thinking I’m doing a good job.

oh we’ve got some imposter syndrome, that can also be a burnt secondary thing.

It’s all long-term planning and daily maintenance tasks, and I really don’t like it. I change most of my plans partway through, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m really an improvisational secondary at heart, or if I’m truly a Bird that’s just bad at planning for all of the variables.

I’m going to say you’re not a Bird. Making cheat-sheets (which is a very Bird secondary strategy) also did not work, and you feel confined by, not comforted by plans. You’re not a Lion, you enjoy keeping your true self to yourself too much. You could be either a Badger or Snake. And if you really hate daily maintenance tasks… that could be coming from a few places, but it makes me lean Snake.

I love being in situations where I can iterate on a plan, or make a new plan on the fly. I love escape rooms and am pretty good at them; I still get stumped and need hints sometimes, but when I *get* a puzzle, it sort of just clicks for me? I don’t think in a very linear way and am not a good chess player, but I also have never studied chess so perhaps I just am at a knowledge disadvantage in that game.

This is also you using Bird to have fun, and we know you *love* using Bird to have fun.

One of my proudest moments

okay this is definitely going to be helpful

was when I was on a day trip with my significant other, and we needed to find a place to buy food quickly so we wouldn’t miss a specific ferry and then a specific bus - we were on an island, and near the ferry station the restaurants were all too expensive and we were worried they would take too long anyway. He was starting to get frazzled, but I was able to think on my feet, and we just grabbed a calming beer (lol) at a creepy neighborhood bar, then got on the ferry and bought microwave meals at a 7-Eleven by the bus station. It was awesome and I was very proud of myself for staying calm and looking around myself for options.

Well that is VERY Snake secondary.

I generally take a long time making decisions when it’s not a crisis situation, because I have to *weigh all the options*, but I often end up in analysis paralysis. Crunch time is where I really shine as a decision-maker.

Snake again. From what I’m seeing, your Bird is a fantastic toy, but actually kind of makes you miserable when you have to depend on it for the important stuff. (studying, your job, making important decisions)

All of this long post is to say, I’m not sure whether my Bird secondary is a fun model that got repurposed into an executive dysfunction compensation tool and anxiety/depression soother to supplement my Snake secondary

I think you hit the nail straight on the head right there.

or if Bird is my true secondary and Snake is a model that I learned from my dad and brother + characters I admire in media

oh your favorite characters are Snake secondaries are they? That’s a big tell.

and that I use when I fail to plan adequately given my executive dysfunction.

Executive dysfunction is a whole thing, but you don’t have to “”plan adequately”” for everything.

I find both fun and both useful, but I’m not sure which is innate and which is the model!

My money is on snake secondary, Bird secondary model.

#submission #sortinghatchats #wisteria sorts #sortme #double snake #snake primary #snake secondary #bird secondary model #family dynamics

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imaginejamesandsirius · 3 years

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I always have this idea in my mind with soulmate tattoos and james having one like 'the brightest' or something and thinking its for lily as the brightest witch of her age, til sirius mentions one day that his star is the brightest star in the night sky?

James's soulmark was just under his right hipbone, written upside down so that he could read it. With that location, it meant nobody had seen it. Soulmarks could be talked about, but you weren't supposed to go around showing it to people. Everyone had to cover it up if it wasn't hidden under clothes. James had it easy; his were covered by his pants, and he didn't even have to bend around weird to see it.

The Brightest

There was never any telling what your soulmark would be. Most people had words, but some people had pictures. Merlin himself had had a soulmark that just said his soulmate's name, but that was incredibly rare. It was always something to identify your soulmate, but it could be cryptic. 'The Brightest' wasn't the most descriptive thing ever, so James knew that he'd have to keep a sharp eye out if he wanted to find his soulmate.

And he was sure, for about three years, that he'd struck gold. One Lily Evans, of Gryffindor House with stunning red hair and a prefect badge now pinned to her robes, was often described as the 'brightest witch of her age'. If she wasn't the best in their year, she was definitely in the top five. Along with Sirius, of course, but no one called him the brightest in their year or summat-- even though he was.

Lily Evans, The Brightest, and his soulmate.

The problem was that she sort of hated him-- childhood exuberance, what could you do-- and her own soulmark must be vague enough that she didn't know it was him yet.

"Which star is Sirius, anyways?" Marlene asked one day in the common room. Marlene was funny and horribly attractive.

James didn't like her. He also didn't like that she was effortlessly charming. Anytime he tried to be charming, he just came off as awkward and trying too hard-- according to Remus; Sirius thought he was funny. Unfortunately, Sirius also thought Marlene was charming, so. James didn't really get a win there.

"It's part of Canis Major, and the brightest star in the sky. Except for the sun, but most people don't count it as a star," Sirius said.

"The brightest star?" James asked, looking over from his book. He hadn't been reading it, but he'd been trying to pretend like he was. Making it clear that he'd been listening wasn't what he’d been going for when Marlene had sat down across from Sirius, but he needed to know if he'd heard that wrong.

"Yeah," Sirius said. "Kinda makes you wonder why my parents didn't change my name when it became clear they hated me."

Marlene had a nice reply to that, and she paired it with flipping her hair over her shoulder.

James didn't hear what she said though, not with his mind fuzzing out so the only details he knew were his soulmark and what Sirius had just said. The brightest star in the sky. The brightest.

Fuck.

"Sirius?" James asked, both of them sat on their own beds, books open as they read the next chapter for History of Magic.

"Yeah?"

"We're close, right?"

"Sure bloody hope so," Sirius said. "We live together year round. It would get kind of awkward if you hated me."

"I don't hate you, don't be stupid," James said, rolling his eyes.

"Invigorated to hear it," Sirius said, shooting him an amused grin. "What's up?"

"What's your soulmark?" James asked, getting the question out quickly like it would help protect him from the backlash.

The reaction was immediate. Sirius froze, his whole body getting tense. Parents knew your soulmark. Other family members sometimes did, depending on how close you were. Medi-wizards did, for obvious reasons, but it's not like they cared who their patients' soulmates were. Some people weren't as protective about covering their soulmarks, so you might see it in passing the locker room or summat. As far as James knew though, Sirius had always been careful to keep his covered with a thick band around his ankle. Even for people that didn't bother to keep theirs completely hidden though, it was understood that you didn't ask.

Once people knew they were soulmates, they showed their marks to each other. You didn't ask your best friend-- no matter how close you were-- what it looked like or if you could see it.

And the thought had occurred to James more than once over the years. He'd actually spent a ridiculous amount of time thinking about Sirius over the years, but he'd sort of thought that everyone did that. Sirius was gorgeous, okay? James couldn't have been the only one that had the occasional fantasy about him, but after hearing that Sirius was the brightest star not only in its constellation, but in the entire sky, he'd had to think about it a little more. What he'd written off as pure aesthetic appreciation and teenage hormones was... well, probably not.

Instead of Sirius telling him to bugger off or saying that he wasn't going to tell him that, he asked, "Why?"

Aaaand that's why James was not the sole planner for the pranks. He could connect two points, but he forgot about the different offshoots the first point could have. Like with this. He'd connected that if he knew what Sirius's soulmark was, then he'd know for sure that they were soulmates. He hadn't considered that Sirius would ask him why he wanted to know before sharing anything. "Erm."

"I'm not going to tell you if you're just being nosy, but you've never asked before, so it feels like you have a reason."

"Of course I have a reason."

A pause. "And that reason would be?" Sirius prodded.

"I- so I was thinking about my mark the other day, and it's kind of ambiguous. I was so sure it was Lily because of the way everyone talked about her, but now I was thinking... maybe not."

Sirius blinked at him. "You think I'm your soulmate now?" He sounded more than a little accusatory, and James winced.

"I know how that sounds, but come on, Pads, think about it from my perspective from a minute. I'm pretty much convinced that this person is my soulmate because of a phrase that's open to interpretation, shutting out all other attraction and stopping to consider that I've never felt that way about her. And then, y'know," he waved a hand vaguely to show that something had happened, "I got to thinking about you, and it would make a lot more sense."

"You're impossible."

"So that's a no on telling me what your soulmark is. You could've sad that from the beginning, and we could've avoided all of this."

Sirius groaned, letting his head thump forward on the textbook.

"Okay, I really don't know what to do with that reaction."

"How about this: we date for a little bit, and if you still think I'm your soulmate then, I'll tell you what my mark is."

"Deal."

They got three weeks in before it occurred to James that there was no reason for Sirius to have suggested them dating unless his soulmark was more straightforward. Straightforward enough that he knew it was James. And if he was that sure of it, then he'd just been waiting around for James to figure it out. A couple years ago, James might've teased him for it, but he could understand why Sirius had felt the need to be cautious; James had never really considered himself available. He'd gone straight from not caring about dating anyone, to being convinced that Lily was his soulmate. If James had been in Sirius's shoes, he wouldn't have done anything either.

The part about it that he didn't really understand was where Sirius didn't tell him about his soulmark when he asked about it. If it was so obvious, then it would make perfect sense to tell James so that they could get together.

And then he thought about it some more and realised that it had worked out, anyways. Sirius hadn't needed to tell him that they were soulmates. He'd said, "We date for a little bit," and left it to James to put the pieces together. Sirius really was brilliant, wasn't he? James didn't need to be told flat out that Sirius was his soulmate anymore, because he knew that it was true. Yes, he'd put the clues together until they made sense, but more than that, he'd dated Sirius, and it had felt right. Maybe a little awkward from time to time when one of them thought it was a date and the other thought the whole Marauders group was invited, but they were right where they needed to be.

They were still mates even though they were dating too, and that meant everything to James. Maybe that's what it meant to be soulmates, for them. He's always wondered how he would know how to be with his soulmate, but now that he was there, it was the easiest thing in the world-- behind riding a broom, because, honestly.

About a month and a half into dating, Sirius said, "You haven't asked me about my soulmark."

"I know."

"Why haven't you?"

James smiled at him. "Because I don't need to see it to know what we are to each other."

Over the summer, James showed his soulmark to Sirius. They hadn't shagged yet, and probably wouldn't for a while longer, so it was a bit awkward to pull his pants down enough to show him. Sirius was sitting next to him and not across from him, so all he had to do was look down to read it.

"You see why I was confused?" James joked.

Sirius snickered. "I still think it was obvious."

"Everyone calls her the brightest witch in our year, and I didn't know that your star was the brightest in the sky, alright? And in my defense, as soon as I learned that, I figured it out."

"You didn't already know that?"

"Not all of us grow up learning about constellations."

"Aww, poor baby," Sirius cooed, ruffling James's hair.

James bat his hand away and pulled his clothes back to their usual positions.

"Ugh, I guess that this is the part where I show you mine," Sirius groused, but he didn't look actually upset. He pulled his foot up close and unbuttoned the cuff he had covering his ankle.

James tilted his head to get a better look at it.

27 March 1960

"You've got to be sodding kidding me. Really?" James asked, looking up at Sirius, who shrugged. "I get something completely cryptic, and you get my birthday. That's bollocks."

"Hey, be happy for us. If it weren't for me knowing what was going on, you'd still be chasing after Lily's skirt."

"I would not," James denied. "I would've caught on before that."

Sirius snorted, putting the cuff back on. "Whatever gets you through the night, mate."

"Be nice to me," James whined, leaning into him heavily.

Sirius pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m always nice to you.”

#fanfic #prongsfoot #marauders #james potter #sirius black #filled #soulmates #no voldemort au #getting together #hogwarts time #siriuslystarbucks #Anonymous

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kaioken16 · 3 years

Text

Sacrificing your Freedom

Mallek Week 2021 - Day 2

Day 2: Sacrifice Word count: 3020 Rating: Teens and Up Character(s): Mallek Adalov, original background characters

AO3 link

A/N: Set in a canon divergent AU as the previous entry but follows are darker route to rebel fighter Mallek. This will be a angst filled piece, mentions of brief torture, pain, and being enslaved.

Summary: Rebel Hacker codenamed ‘Scorist’ is captured and is then brought before a high ranking Imperial general who reveals his secret and he is forced to sacrifice the most important thing to him for his loved ones.

Mallek is led down the hallway of this vessel, a pair of heavily armored guards on each side of him, each carrying a long spear, the blades were teeming with energy which allowed them to discharge very painful bolts of energy. His head hung down, his face was bruised, with dry blood staining his lip and forehead. His uniform was torn all over, cuts and dirt, stained with his own blood. His arms are tightly restrained behind his back, and his ankles were shackled together. He made no attempt to try and fight the chains as any attempt would result in a swift, merciless reprimand from the guards, as evident by the old scorch marks on his clothing and his skin.

He had been careless, an error on his part. During a mission his role was to disable the alarm system as not to alert the imperial guards at a weapon’s warehouse that they were planning to steal supplies from for the rebels, however, he missed a secondary alert system that had recently been installed after the initial intel that had on the facility. From there, it all went downhill, and they didn't have enough time, and he had to think quickly so he provided cover, transferring a copy of the new weapon data and sending it to his friend, but in the end, only half of his team managed to get away, while the other half was caught.

They had been to a detention station located in some random quadrant of this galaxy that was Empire controlled. There he endured the usual torture and interrogation, he held out but his captured friends…

They weren’t so fortunate.

And now, after weeks of this shit, he had brought onto this ship by order of some high-ranking imperial. What did they want? Was it more questioning? If so, why take him off the detention facility? Many questions raced through Mallek’s head, he wasn’t sure what to expect. And his imagination didn’t help, he knew from first hand experience and from the stories of others just how cruel some of these highbloods officers could be. But what could they possibly do to him that was worse than the treatment he had been enduring…

A grimace look spreads on his beaten face, he didn’t wanna entertain those thoughts.

Finally, they arrive before a giant pair of metallic doors. It was decorated and given gold trimming, very expensive. In fact, everything about this ship was expensive, it was an imperial-class Devastator, part of the X-series which were the latest models and these were the next best ships after the Empress’s personal battleship. Owning a vessel like this could only be someone very high up on the imperial chain of command.

One of the guards approaches the set of doors, he then removes his glove, he had his back to Mallek, so he was unable to the symbol that had been tattooed into his palm, he presses it against the security panel, it scans the logo and then a green light pops on the panel. The doors open, slowly pulling away from each other. The guard places his glove back on and takes a seat back, Mallek’s eyes narrow as a means to get a better look at what was awaiting him on the other side.

The other guard shoves Mallek forward as he’s forced to resume walking, they enter the room. Inside was a long table that could seat 10 people, on the left side of the room was a shelf filled with books, data cards, files, and a set of strange look trinkets. On the right was a set of statues each depicting some kind of troll each carrying an actual weapon, it seemed like the statues were made for the sole purpose of advertising the object they were holding rather than the figures who inspired them.

Mallek’s eyes shifted around the room, scanning everything he could see, no escape routes of any kind except for the doors they entered through. But his eyes did stop at the far end of the room, was a massive view of the vast region of space, and admiring the view was a very tall figure, even taller than the guards who were at least 6ft each. The guards stand to attention, taps their spears on the metal floor, and salutes the figure, clearly, this was the big shot in charge of this vessel. “General Ioktex. We’ve brought the prisoner as you instructed.” One of the guards addresses him by his surname. Mallek’s right twitched, that name was familiar to him.

“Very good… You may leave us, wait outside.” Her voice is disguised but Mallek can tell that it’s a woman. The guards do as they are told and exit the room leaving Mallek alone with her.

“Welcome aboard the Devastator.” She raises her arms out gesturing towards the room, clearly referring to this ship as a whole. She turns to face him, still too far away for Mallek to get a better view but a single red glow catches his attention where one of her eyes should be.

“I must say, it is rather thrilling to meet a male blue caste. Such a rarity.”

She approaches him, her figure coming into his line of vision. He can see another troll, much older than him possibly in her mid-to-late 30s, waist-length black hair that is noticeably curled at the ends despite being otherwise relatively straight with parts of her hair covering her right eye, her left eye was completely red, as if blood and seeped through her pupil and iris, but it wasn’t blind, she could see through it.

Her mouth was covered by a mask that was the source of her altered voice. Her outfit was a long blue dress, but the shoulders were fitted with armor and a chest plate which had a pattern in the shape of crisscross with four points at each end. She wore boots that made a heavy sound each time she took a step on the floor. A high-powered blaster was strapped to her hip. From the colors that donned her attire and her previous statement, it was clear by the colors her outfit adorned, that she purple caste.

“Allow me to introduce myself properly, my name is-”

“Adrani Ioktex. General of the 20th division. Conqueror of the Andrax and Nova systems. Also known as ‘The Empress’s Spear’. I know who and what you are…” Mallek spat out in disgust knowing who she was, remembering the name and her unique features.

“Ah, I see my reputation precedes me.” Her voice is filled with glee that Mallek was aware of who she was. Though Mallek doesn’t react, his face remaining blank and neutral not wanting to show any emotion.

“The same can be said for you, the mysterious hacker and rebel operative responsible for the destruction, theft, and reprogramming of many of our imperial drones for your own cause, the genius who is known simply as the ‘SCORIST’.”

She refers to Mallek by his codename, the alias he went by after joining the rebellion, the handle he used when hacking into the systems and stealing from various targets. He had made a name for himself and used it to hide his name for safety and personal reasons as he had secrets and people to protect associated with his real name. Only his close friends and those he trusted knew his real name, he had made sure to erase any and all records of his name he could find.

“Congratulations, you’ve done your homework…” He responds to her conclusion with a sarcastic tone.

She grins at him. “But of course. I’ve done my research and know full well about your past… Adalov.”

Mallek’s face showed a look of shock, and he immediately returned to a neutral look. How did she know his last name? That wasn’t possible. But unfortunately, the general had noticed the brief change of his expression. “Oh yes, I know your real name… Mallek Adalov.”

“Truly you were quite careful in erasing yourself from the records when you betrayed the Empire and defected. A young information spy killed in a crossfire on a mission, just another body to add to the pile of the dead… Another random troll who no one would miss or consider.”

“But you survived the skirmish, and then used your hacking abilities to erase your records… And then found yourself among the rebels. It was a brilliant move. However, you left footprints and breadcrumbs that most would overlook… So I began my investigation into you, studying your trail, your mark left on the servers and drones.” She starts to walk around Mallek.

“You kept your face hidden, rarely coming out in the open and providing support to your team. So I created a scenario that would bring you out in the open.”

Mallek looks at her, realizing that the factory mission had been a trap for him, she had orchestrated it to lure him out. Which meant his captured teammates deaths were, even more, his fault. Mallek couldn’t hide his anger, gritting his teeth, hands balled into fists.

“The final part was identifying you. You were able to remove yourself from most of the off-world servers and you were still fairly new, and you even stopped wearing your sign which would be an obvious tell.”

“But you can’t access any of the homeworld data after being shipped off… Records of you back home still exist after all.”

His eyes widened, he knew that any trace of him that still existed would still remain on Alternia but no adults could return there, it was heavily guarded and the Empress or her heiress would be alerted if an adult troll was spotted on the planet.

“Once you were captured, got a photo of you and then crossed references across the homeworld data, found your sign and then your real name.”

“What do you want?” He says in a slow, angry tone. He hated this, he hated when he wasn’t in control of a situation but she had all the cards.

“To make you a deal.” Her statement caught him off guard, confused by that.

“It must be hard having to follow the noble traditions of your people. A blue caste such as yourself serving as a mere soldier or spy within Her Imperious Condescension’s army. You would’ve preferred to be an information specialist, but your talents and skill as a genius hacker would never be utilized by her the Empress… It’s no wonder you feel so at home with traitors and rebels, allowing you to express your talents freely.”

“But even I must admit that your talents were wasted as a spy. I admire your work, it’s taken 3 years but you developed into a true specialist. So far from the timid anxious boy who feared being shipped off-world 5 years ago…”

“Shut up.” He demands, not wanting to listen to her words. He didn’t need a reminder, and she didn’t know him. She knew nothing about his struggles or his life.

“So I’m offering you an alternative.”

“You can spend the rest of your days rotting away in my detention facility. Dying in some dark, small cell or being beaten to death by some random prisoner… Or you can work for me, become my personal specialist and gather information on my enemies.” She states her offer to him which makes Mallek look at her with a confused look.

“What? Why would I work for someone like you?” Mallek snaps back, he would rather rot in that prison than work for her. Of course, she was expecting that response from him, which makes her chuckle.

“Your rebel friends. The rest of your group that escaped, and the ones you're protecting. And the reason you chose to use an alias and remove your name from the records…” She leans in close and whispers something into Mallek’s ear.

All the color fades from his face, a genuine look of fear and surprise as she pulls away smirking at him. “Your fate is in my hands Mallek Adalov, and if you want their safety to be ensured along with the safety of your own rebel cell, you will take my offer. I have no interest in small fry like your team, the rebel cells are divided, unorganized and there are more major threats, larger groups, and more important matters to deal with.”

“I will overlook your friends, and keep what’s most precious to you safe.” She informs him as a ringing noise begins to fill his ears, this wasn’t happening? This couldn’t be real? How? How could she have known about them, and how could he have been so careless…

What choice does he have now?

Mallek, with a defeated look in his eyes. Looks down, biting his lower lip.

“Good. Your silence is a reassurance that you’ve chosen wisely.” She smirks before taking the nearest seat at the table. “From this moment on, you belong to me. You are a tool and item, and a piece on my board to help me reach higher and eliminate my enemies and rivals. You will never see your comrades again, you have sacrificed your freedom in exchange for the ones you love, and for them…”

“Yes…” Mallek responds, his voice broken with acceptance.

“Very good. Welcome abroad SCORIST.” She grins, before standing up, she presses a button built into the table, and the doors open once again revealing the guards who had been waiting patiently. “Please take him to his quarters, and get him some new clothes.”

Years later…

The location was a planet in a far-off galaxy, it was the next site for the Empire’s eyes. It was full of valuable resources, from rare minerals, being the center of this galaxy, to serve as another controlled planet, and its people as slaves to help build the new facilities. The first steps of the invasion plan, first a team would be sent to infiltrate and survey the world, and general Ioktex had been dispatched to oversee this mission, and she had sent her team to go in first. A small vessel arrives over the planet and begins to break through the atmosphere. Inside the small vessel. Were four trolls, each dressed in imperial uniforms with their caste colors and general Ioktex’s sign engraved on random spots of their uniform, symbolizing that allegiance to her.

Piloting the ship, was a tall tealblood, his eyes focusing dead ahead to their destination, checking all the system and making their cloaking device was functioning. A slim blueblood and hulking purpleblood armed to the teeth with weapons and armor, both were wearing helmets to cover most of their faces. And sitting in another seat, typing away and looking at the monitor was Mallek. His expression was cold and dead, his eyes barely moving as he shifted through data, and attached to his neck was a collar device that was blinking. He has several holographic screens around his face. He waits for the virus to download into the flash drive he has plugged in, and once the bar fills and 100% appears, he removes it from the port.

“Here.” He tosses the drive to the other blueblood, who catches it.

“Once you get to a server, insert the flash drive in and we’ll access the mainframe. The virus will be uploaded and we’ll have all the information we need.”

She examines the device in her hand “Huh? It’s that simple huh? What about firewalls and security systems or-”

Mallek cuts her off “Don’t worry about it. It’s a multiagent virus, it’ll be infecting too many systems at once to mask what we’re really doing. Just get in, stay hidden, and don’t let anything happen to the drive.”

“Alright, fair enough. You’re the expert. I’m sure you know what you’re doing.” She smiles trying to make small talk but Mallek doesn’t even look at her, not interested in her or any of them.

“We’ll be landing shortly.” The pilot says as he presses some buttons. “Boosting cloaking shield.”

Suddenly a pained groan is heard at the back of the ship. In the generator room, strapped and bound into the ship, by tendrils was a gold caste troll, colorful energy surges through his eyes and then around his body as it is absorbed through the tendrils, powering the ship up. This was the norm for goldblood, but in this one’s case, it was a punishment. He was a rebel agent who had been captured and as punishment, he had been bound to his vessel as a living battery.

The rebels had adapted to using ships powered by alternative means as opposed to the living batteries on gold castes. After all exhaustion and overuse would result in the gruesome, permanent damage or painful deaths of the psionic trolls. But the empire would just replace them with another. Of course like the rebels, the empire did have ships and vessels that were also powered by other non-living energy sources. Only the older models and generation still used living batteries, as a reward by the Empress as goldbloods could last longer than fuel.

Every groan or scream he made was ignored by the crew, the purpleblood, in particular, found it to be soothing and enjoyed the cries of pain. Mallek was forced to endure this, and do nothing. The device around his neck was a precaution that the general had used to further keep him in line. Containing a powerful explosion that would activate at the push of a button or he made any attempt to remove or hack the wiring.

He had sacrificed his freedom, in order to protect what was dearest to him…

And now he was once again a servant to the Empire, an unwilling servant and this would be his life for now until the end of his life. A slave who was no different than that poor soul in the generator, no different from the inhabitants on the planet below who would soon be enslaved and lose their freedom.

He sighs before returning his view to his screen. “Let’s begin…”

#mallekweek2021 #mallekweek #mallek week 2021 #mallek adalov #fanfiction #fanfic #hiveswap fanfiction #hiveswap #hiveswap friendsim #hiveswap act 2 #hiveswap mallek #sci-fi #angst #canon divergent au #au #sacrifice #freedom #mallek week day 2 #my writing

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

Flower | 01

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, future angst, future smut

; Word Count: 2.8k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh...incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: This is going to be a drabble series. It’s not planned out, it has no planning. It will be written as and when I get the inspiration for it. The Flower app is inspired by the Bumble app in which women make the first move on it. This is just purely something to try and get me back into enjoying writing again so...please show it and me some love because I already love this Hoseok? I haven’t proof read lol

Flower Masterpost

“Okay...okay. Let’s do this...you can do this. It’s easy. Just...download the app and go. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? Well you could get murdered. That would suck. But it would resolve a lot of issues I guess. On the other hand...I could meet the love of my life. I mean...is that likely?” The soft sounds of your muttering are probably barely heard over the soft playing music through the speakers connected to your television, YouTube playing mindlessly to itself on the screen.

Your focus though, is solely on the phone in your hand. Soyeon, your best friend, had been bugging you to join some online dating sites for a while and it had only gotten worse when your other friend Chungha told her that she fully agreed with her. Part of you felt cornered by them both but another part of you understood them.

They were just looking out for you. You were naturally quiet and shy, introverted and preferring to remain inside or on the sides if you were dragged to a party. An inability to engage in small talk meant that that you struggled to make conversation with people as well. That all resulted in a small circle of friends who understood you well but that was it, everyone else was merely acquaintances who would hang out with you simply because they were friends with your friends.

As such, it meant that you struggled with dating. And by that, you mean that you hadn’t been in a relationship for a long time. Nor could you do flings like some of your friends did, the very thought filled you with anxiety.

This was why they had suggested trying online dating, because you’d lamented to them about how lonely you’d started to feel. You were still relatively young, and you knew that relationships weren’t the be all and end all. But when you haven’t dated since college, it starts to feel like no one is interested in you at all. And that was a hard feeling to take in.

You wanted to be like your friends. To have someone to talk to about things without feeling embarrassed, someone who would enjoy being in your company and actively seek you out, someone to be intimate with. Someone to fall in love with. It sounded cheesy and stupid but both Soyeon and Chungha had taken your concerns to heart.

They’d asked if you wanted to be set up on blind dates but the very idea of that made you lose your breath with anxiety, the fear of failure or judgement from someone who has never met you before overwhelming. So Soyeon had suggested online dating and now here you were, curled up on your couch on a Saturday night, a glass of water on the side because you don’t like alcohol and the app store open to dating apps.

“Tinder...isn’t that just for hookups?” You murmur, frowning as you look at some of the reviews. There were probably people who had managed to get lasting relationships on Tinder, but the idea of having random people actively deciding whether or not you were worth trying simply from a photo or something was horrible. Not that you had any idea how it actually worked, but still…

A few other apps look to be the more traditional online dating route and you consider whether to download one of them. But then you see an app that attracts your attention, a small soft pink and orange logo with the outline of a white flower in it. The title is simply ‘Flower’ and you take click on it to read the description.

‘Find the perfect partner and watch love or friendship bloom like a flower!

The Flower app asks you to set up a profile by asking you a series of questions to determine your interests and personality. We then set you up with a series of people we consider to be a good match and give you the opportunity to initiate a conversation!

Here at Flower, we want to make sure that dating is fun and most importantly, equal. As such, we allow women to be the one to initiate contact with their matches. This means that if you’re looking for a same sex relationship, then you can both reach out. The same goes if you don’t identify as female or male. If you’re looking for a heterosexual relationship, then you can reach out to your match and he can decide whether he wants to respond.

We don’t tolerate any form of hate speech or intolerance and will respond with quick action against this. At Flower, we promote inclusivity, diversity and tolerance. We want the world to grow and bloom with love, one relationship at a time!’

The reviews for the app seemed to back up their description and you felt curious. An impulse takes over and you download it, tongue sticking out as you wait before loading it up once it’s done. The interface is clean and take a moment to chew your lip before clicking the sign up button.

Everything seems to be rudimentary at first, asking for your age and location, name and occupation. But then it starts to ask some other questions. Your favourite film genres, a list of favourite films, your favourite books, where you’d like to go on vacation, favourite music and songs and so much more. Some of it felt bizarre, like would you rather eat chicken or beef? Would you rather drive an Audi or a Ford?

You presumed it all had a reason though, and after what felt like five minutes of answering questions, you finally had a profile. Flicking through the gallery on your phone, you found a picture that you felt was flattering while still showing your personality. It’s from a few months ago and was taken with a Polaroid camera, giving it that distinctive filter that always seemed to be flattering everyone.

You were giving a small smile, eyes looking to the left of the camera while your chin was in your hand. Nose wrinkled slightly, a soft and fluffy white cream sweater covers you while a cherry blossom scarf is wrapped elegantly round your neck. And on top of all that...a bright yellow Pikachu hat sits on top of your head.

It had been your birthday and the girls had managed to coax you out for dinner before presenting you with a bunch of presents. They’d been a random assortment, as usual, but you’d loved it all. A skin care gift set, the Pikachu hat and a Pusheen stationery set. Your colleagues at your admin assistant job had given you the side eye when you’d added yet more cute and strange things to your already colourful and cluttered desk but you’d ignore them.

This picture had been one of the best taken of you recently and you smiled gently as you made it your profile picture. You didn’t like being photographed, constantly convinced that you were unattractive but your friends were convinced otherwise.

Everything looked to be set up and you wondered what you meant to do now, when a sudden notification pops up on the screen with ‘20 Matches Found’. Sudden anxiety makes you feel sick, stomach rolling with nerves as your veins practically fizz as you click on the view more button. These were people who the app had compared your own answers to and considered to be the best matches.

There’s a tiny moment of waiting as a tiny flower in orange and pink blooms and you sigh when it finally clears. The profiles are shown in descending order with those most matched to least. A tiny refresh button in the corner let’s you see that you can refresh your matches if necessary.

Each profile shows their profile image, their name, age and location. Scrolling through them, you note idly that you seem to have got a wide range of people that you had matched with. A 24-year-old swimming instructor named Kim Chaeyoung, a 31-year-old high school English teacher named Seo Jinwoo, a 29-year-old mechanic called Park Jisoo and more.

It was interesting to see the wide range of people that had come back and you perused their profiles carefully, reading the little description they’d written for themselves along with a few answers to questions similar to what you’d had to answer. The app seemed to pull a range range of questions for you read, with each person’s being slightly different.

You supposed it meant that you would need to ask for that information and you found yourself curious about one or two people, pressing the little button that indicated it would bookmark their profile for later viewing. Apparently you had a week to make the first interaction before it would vanish.

Humming lightly, you wondered if anyone would be interested in talking to you?

Everyone looked so pretty on here and you wondered if you matched up to them. Would they consider you worth their time? Biting your lower lip, you shrug your shoulders and decided you had nothing to lose really. You didn’t know these people in real life and no one would laugh at you for simply reaching out and trying to make a connection.

You come across one profile that makes you pause though, your brow lifting in surprise as you wonder why on earth the app has matched you with this guy. The two of you don’t even look like you come from the same planet, nevermind have enough aligning interests to warrant being in your top 20 matches at the moment.

Clicking on his profile, you read through his basic info question while you purse your lips, making soft noises in your throat.

Jung Hoseok. 28 years old. IT Technician.

He sounded pretty normal and you wouldn’t even give it a second thought normally, but his appearance did not match the casual job description he had. Maybe you were just being stereotypical here, but most of the IT people in your workplace were of the nerdy looking variety. And you only say that because every one of them wore some form of Rick and Morty or other pop culture shirts.

Which you were fine with, because you enjoyed most of the same things too. But no one looked like this guy.

The reason you were so surprised was because of his profile picture, and despite your earlier thoughts about just sending messages to everyone for the sake of it, you felt a well of anxiety rising again as you looked at him. This guy is quite possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, the kind of guy that people only think exists when they’re rich and famous.

But he’s also completely unlike you. He’s evidently at some sort of event as he has a bottle of beer in his hand while his other hand is making the metal horns shape. One eye is closed to camera, winking while his tongue is poking out of his mouth on one side, white teeth visible beneath pink lips amidst gold skin. A silver ring pierced his lower lip on the right while a small ball is visible in his tongue.

His hair is jet black, gleaming in the crappy lighting in a messy state that looks slightly wet while his exposed skin has a sheen of sweat on it. A red and black shirt unbuttoned on him, rolled up to his elbows to reveal toned forearms that are completely covered in vibrant and bright colour.

The tattoos make what you presume to be full sleeves on both arms, his left arm appearing to be a swirling galaxyscape with brilliant galaxies, planets, moons and more interwoven with, bizarrely, dragons that are almost transparent. They look beautiful though, and you get an image of space dragons made of fine dust flying through the vast expanse of space as you look at them.

His other arm looks to be a mesh of things together, flames and flowers and skulls and ships. None of it makes any sense to you, but you’re positive it probably means something to him. One of the sleeves expands onto his hand, the one showing the horns and you eye the clock tattoo that takes up the space.

His tattoos look to expand beyond his arms as the black top beneath his shirt gives tantalising glimpses of the black and colour tattoos that obviously sprawl across his chest. Strands creep upwards, almost to his neck and you get the impression of something fiery, the soft wisps of red and orange looking like burning embers on his skin.

This guy...looked like he belonged in a metal band or tattoo shop. And he was...beautiful, way out of your league.

Which was why you had to have experienced an out of body moment when your finger presses the message button, the screen popping up with an automatic message pre filled out for you.

“Hey, Flower shows that we’re good matches so I’m reaching out to you! If you would like to talk to me, please respond!”

Scowling, you deleted the message, deciding it would be bad manners to just send the template message to someone that you were attracted to. That thought gives you pause, acknowledging that you are in fact attracted to him. He looked like the kind of guy who would take one look at your profile and laugh himself home at the prospect of doing anything with you.

The man clearly thrived on social situations, enough of his profile gave that away and again you wondered why the app matched you together. Maybe he had some secret love of Pokemon or something. Looks could be deceiving, obviously.

And even if you’d never listened to a metal song in your life...you were always open to trying new things. If you were going to open yourself up to the prospect of online dating, then you may as well go fully out of comfort zone.

Swallowing, you carefully type out a short message and spend the next five minutes reading it over as anxiety and fear swirl within you. Indecision causes you to wonder whether you should just delete it all and ignore his profile, going for the safe option of someone who looks like they’d be more accepting of you on your list.

But the allure of something so unlike you pulls you in and you press send, watching the message swoosh away and changing his profile to a soft pink to indicate that you’d initiated contact. Almost immediately you feel sick, body going cold as you pant ever so slightly.

Oh god, he’s going to read that message and take one look at your profile then delete the message. He probably had hookups all the time, the kind of guy you shouldn’t get involved with. You had no interest in being a one night stand and- you shake your head, clenching your teeth and taking a deep breath.

Stereotypes are damaging to yourself and others, you tell yourself quietly. There’s no reason to paint him with a negative brush already when he’s not even had a chance to do anything. And so what if he only wanted hookups? It was the 21st century, men and women could sleep with who they wanted, as often as they wanted and they shouldn’t face the prejudice you’re showing him already.

Before you can even think anything else though, your phone sends out a soft, melodic note and you look down with wide eyes. The message icon has an orange notification on it, signifying that you have a new message on there. Hesitating, you wonder if it’s just one of those generic ‘welcome’ messages that you sometimes get when you sign up for sites.

But the name of the sender tells you very much that it’s not a generic message, and the cold fear mixes with nervous excitement and trepidation as you see Jung Hoseok’s name. He must have already been on his phone to have responded so fast, and you wonder if he’s just sent a polite ‘thank you but no’ back.

It would be awfully nice of him if he did. Embarrassing, but polite.

Opening the message, your jaw drops and eyes widen as you read what he’s responded with.

You: Hi. I don’t know how to use this properly, so I’m sorry if I do it wrong. You showed as a match and...well I guess I say I’m interested? Not as a friend, unless you want that. I mean...the other way. Feel free to say no! Y/N

Reading it back over, you cringe at how...you it sounds. Hesitant and awkward and shy. Dammit, why couldn’t you just seize the moment and sound confident for once? Say something bold that would attract his attention.

And then you read his response.

Hoseok: Hey Y/N. Thanks for reaching out. How are you tonight?

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peaches-writes · 4 years

Text

touch

member: seungmin wc: 1.2k genre: fluff, mystery, detective au (he is psychometric-inspired), psychometric reader warning: mentions of violence & murder note: i finally finished this kdrama the other other day! my babies yeeun, jinyoung, and dasom aaaah

“Again?”

On the other side of the open doorway, Seungmin sighs sheepishly and adjusts his black cap over his freshly dyed hair. “Not like I have a choice, do I? It’s not like crimes have schedules around here.” He meets your eyes after casting them downwards the entire time, holding up and shaking the three ziplock bags and paperclips of photos in his hands in front of you. “Can I come in?”

You heave a sigh back in defeat, stepping to the side, “Yup, come in.”

The young detective obliges and steps inside your apartment, courteously waiting on you to close the door behind you before following you into your living room. Sitting down on the sofa with you, he then carefully lays out the evidences he’s brought over your unused table runner.

“What am I looking at this time?” You ask curiously as you eye the black button, silver necklace, and diamond ring Seungmin has brought for you today, grabbing one surgical glove from your box of supplies on the coffee table.

Seungmin holds up the photos in between the two of you in response, obstructing your view of the objects. You’re then met with photos of a woman in her late 40s to early 50s, two blows to each side of her head that spills blood all over her disjointed body and red marks that trail from her neck to her chest. “This is Mrs. Young, 54 years old.” He introduces the corpse to you before laying the photo above your evidence. “Cause of death, obviously, the two blows on the head and asphyxiation but I’m yet to confirm this with forensics since Jeongin ditched me to go to the arcade with his significant other.”

“Oh,” You muse as you stifle a laugh, earning you a pointed look from Seungmin. “Sorry, Jeongin shouldn’t have done that.”

“Anyway,” Seungmin brushes off, holding more photos of the crime scene for you before laying them out with Mrs. Young’s photo on the table. “Here are photos from the crime scene and photos of our current suspects—I can take you to the crime scene if you want but only this Friday afternoon.”

“And the suspects?”

“Husband, adult son, neighbours.” Seungmin points out the people to you as he mentions them. “The usual.”

“So what’s different this time?” You point out, picking up the button now with your gloved hand and examining it. You make sure to avoid coming in contact with it using your bare hand at that moment in order to allow Seungmin to explain.

Next to you, Seungmin sinks against the cushion of your sofa and releases another sigh, albeit this time one that’s of frustration. “All the suspects kept insisting that they’re the sole murderer.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Huh? Strange.” You then hold the button higher up to your eyes, glancing over to Seungmin with a glint of challenge in your eyes, “So if I’m assuming correctly, why did you bring me the victim’s belongings instead of the suspects’?”

“It won’t be discreet bringing you any articles of the suspects’ clothing from the night of the murder.” He answers matter-of-factly. “So I thought, when I picked up that button from the floor, I’d bring you Mrs. Young’s belongings instead: the button that fell of when her coat was ripped away from her, the necklace partially used to choke her, and the ring on her hand when she tried fighting her assailant.”

You hum in satisfaction, “Finally, you’re improving, detective.”

Seungmin scoffs, “So mean. Just help me out here, Y/N.”

You spare another glance in his direction and chuckle before bringing your bare hand up to the button, reading it off of the memories it has.

In your vision, you see a figure with his face fully covered with a mask and a cap, towering over what you can only assume as Mrs. Young whose perspective you’ve entered as he uses his strength to rip off the coat she wears. “Black mask, red cap, and no identifying feature, really.” You conclude as you come back to reality, placing the button back on the table. “The assailant’s wearing all-black clothes and sunglasses, too. Looks built and almost a head taller than Mrs. Young.”

Seungmin hums in acknowledgement, his elbow propped up on his knee as he cradles his cheek on his palm and thinks carefully, “Too vague. Try the ring.”

You pick up the ring next, this time entering a vision of Mrs. Young successfully grabbing hold of her assailant in a way that exposes the person’s arm over their black long sleeves. “There!” You exclaim, still in half a daze. “That’s a—I see a snake tattoo.”

“Snake tattoo?” Seungmin repeats, his voice faint in your ears as you’re still watching the vision unfold in front of your eyes.

Your head unconsciously jerks back as you watch more of the vision from the diamond ring, watching Mrs. Young claw on her assailant’s arm and chest with her bright red nail polish until you see another faint object from the corner of your vision. “There’s a black band on one of his fingers, too, but it doesn’t seem to be a ring originally.”

“Snake tattoo and a black band, what else?”

But as he asks this, you’re pulled back to reality and you’re shaking your head in response. “That seems to be it, nothing else that’s significant.” You then return the ring back on the table. “The necklace doesn’t seem to be much help now because it looks like that was removed after Mrs. Young tried attacking her assailant.”

“I don’t recall any of the suspects having a tattoo on their arms or a black band.” Seungmin comments, briefly removing his cap and ruffling his hair in frustration. “Are you 100% positive?”

”You always come to me then doubt my abilities, huh?” You sigh before nodding. “But yeah, it doesn’t look fresh or drawn on, either so you can rule out framing or tricks on my vision. The tattoo seems old and the design’s quite distinct, not the usual designs you get quickly from parlors.”

He heaves in a frustrated sigh as well, hunching over even more next to you. “I’m sorry, it’s just—this case is getting to my head a lot more than usual! Even in hindsight, nothing’s making sense and for some reason, everyone wants to be held accountable for it. I—“

You send him a sympathetic look that seems to fly over him as he fusses about this new case of his, returning the evidences back in their respective ziplock bags for him out of pity. When he looks back at you and apologizes for his sudden outburst after a moment, you shake your head and pat his shoulder with your bare hand comfortingly, “It’s okay but don’t fuss too much, you can solve this one—like you always do.” You then gesture over to the items on your table. “Besides, my vision’s just one part—and though having to defend using it at court later is also another part, you still have your wit and your other friends. Just be a little patient and take it slow, Seungmin.”

He smiles back at you gratefully, sitting up properly. “T-Thanks.”

Your hand accidentally falls down to his elbow as he sits up, a brief vision of him practicing words in front of a mirror flashing before you.

“Y/N, hi, so, uh, after this, do you want to get coffee?” Seungmin from this morning rehearses such words in front of his vanity mirror before he groans in embarrassment. “Ah, who even wants to get coffee after seeing a corpse? Aish, Kim Seungmin!”

Next to you, present Seungmin’s eyes widen at this accidental gesture and you immediately retract your hand back. “W-What?” He asks, careful of his words.

“Hm?” Your eyes and ears perk up, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you hold your hand to your chest. “Nothing.”

“O-oh, okay...” He trails off with an equally awkward cough. “Sorry.”

You clear your throat awkwardly as well, shuffling around your seat before picking up the photos and ziplocks on the table and handing it back to him. “So, um, do you have anything else for me today—like coffee?”

“What?!” Seungmin’s eyes widen, slowly turning to you in surprise.

“Nothing, nothing.” You wave your hand in front of him dismissively, heat rising up to your neck before a thought crosses your mind and you’re suddenly blurting out next, “Do you have to be somewhere after this? Do you want coffee, I said.”

m.list

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scandeniall · 4 years

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bad news

pairing: kuroo x reader

summary/warnings: You thought you were enough for him to leave the dangerous life behind, however hes just to close to quit. Inspired by this. /streetfighter!kuroo, angst (?) mentions of blood, mention of deaths. No major character death, however, this isn’t a happy tale.

wc: 2.2k

The air is thick as you dab at bloodied skin. Your face is blank and you can’t find it in yourself to even react at the grip on your waist that tightens with every sting of the alcohol soaked cotton round. “(Y/N)-”

“Don’t even. Not right now Kuroo” the warmth on your waist disappears as his hands fall to rest on his lap. The two of you don’t even catch eyes as you place the band aid on his cheekbone. “Take your shirt off.” He wordlessly complies as you take the dirty garment tossing it in the hamper behind you. You eye the damage before letting out a sigh. “‘M gonna be right back.” He only offers a sad smile, his heart breaking at the look of disappointment. While you’re gone Kuroo’s mind is racing. He flashed back to all the times he promised he’d stop. To all the nights you literally begged him to stop. You told him time and time again that he didn’t need to continue to fight. The two of you could figure it out some other way. It had gotten to the point where you were willing to leave him, your relationship and the love you built behind. And so he lied. Said he’d stopped taking on the high paying and dangerous fights offered to him. He even promised that he’d only fight as a last resort and that he had been taking on odd jobs here and there to bring in some money. Those last resort fights only dealt with low paying newbies and that he had been working on getting a new job. He’d gone out of his way to make sure you didn’t find out.

He’d taken the makeup cover up skills he’d learned over the years to cover the bruises. He’d gone to different people he met over the years to patch him up after a fight. He made sure not to wince in pain around you and only slept near you both with a shirt and the lights off. He hid his payments, continually telling himself that if he could just keep saving the two of you could one day run away into your own paradise.

One where the bills weren’t piling up and you didn’t live in an apartment whose floorboards were so weak that you feared falling through the floor. A world where he could go back to school and pursue his goals of becoming a doctor and help others instead of hurting them. Where he didn’t have to say goodbye to you at ungodly hours of the morning as you went to work the shifts no one else wanted just so the two of you could get by.

Gentle hands coaxed him out of his thoughts as you slid yourself back between his legs. “It’s not too deep thank god. You won’t need any stitches, but this is gonna hurt a lot. You should stay in bed for a few days though” The words came void of any emotion as you dabbed a wet cloth along his side. He hadn’t even heard you come back and run the water. Kuroo allowed himself to accept your help in silence, not missing the way your fingers would lightly trace along the tattoos on his ribcage. He could tell you were tired just by your movements. Not physically tired. Mentally tired of this life and that scared him. The fear of you having enough and leaving for someone far more deserving plagued his thoughts. When he first started street fighting for money you’d aided his wounds with sweet touches and the continual check in and reassurance that he was ok. But that was when the stakes were lower, he didn’t come home battered to the point where he could barely walk, nor did he walk the edge of death every time he went to fight. The relatively shallow gashes along his side, blackened eye and scrape against his jaw were nothing to care for. While tonight wasn’t the worst shape he’d ever come home in, it indicated that he had lied. Kuroo quietly took the shirt you’d handed him as you finished. You still hadn’t met his eye as you rinsed the bloodied rag. He could only offer a whispered thanks as you told him you were all done. As you rang out the cloth a hand grasped your wrist and Kuroo couldn’t help but close his eyes at the flinch it incited. “(Y/N). We need the money.” “And I need you alive.” This time it was his turn to flinch. Your voice bounced off the tiles and went straight to his heart, especially the way you snatched your arm away as if he had burned you. He watched as you took a deep breath, and knowing you it was a futile attempt at not saying anything that would break you. “Kuroo— I don't know what to do anymore or how to feel. I don’t know how much longer i can keep doing this.” Your words felt like a dozen bricks piling onto his chest. The grip on your wrist tightened as he pulled you into him, thankful at the fact that you even allowed him to envelop you in his arms. “Baby-don't do this.” The crack in his voice rang through your own ears. You even picked up on his nervous kick against the bathrooms counter. One of the hands that had secured around your middle made a move towards the back of your head, holding you to him. You found your stiffened posture softened just the slightest as you nibbled on your bottom lip in thought. “I’m not,” you spoke after what felt like an eternity of silence. “But You lied to me. You fucking promised Kuroo,” the words came in a flood of emotions, and for the first time that evening you met his eyes. He could see the mixture of anger and hurt swirling in your eyes. “You said you were gonna stop-”

“But we need the-”

Your humorless laugh stopped him mid sentence as you pushed yourself out of his arms. “Don’t you dare make this about the money. What good is money when you’re bleeding to death in some dark ass alley. I can’t do shit with money if you're dead.” He watched as you dug the heels of your palms into your eyes in frustration and wanted nothing more than to pull you in and make it better. “I stay because I’m so in love with you that it hurts. I hope to any god that can hear me that when you leave out the house that you’ll make it back to me. That I don't get a call with some bad news.”

He winced as he slid off the bathroom’s counter and crossed over to you. As he analyzed your face he noticed just how exhausted you were. The bags under your eyes seemed deeper than he last remembered. You were fidgeting a lot more than usual, nearly shaking. Your skin didn’t glow in the same way it usually did, and then it clicked painfully tugging at his heart strings.

You had been working more and more hours, under the guise that he had been slowly coming to a stop with the fights. It's part of the reason it was much easier to fool him. By the time you’d usually see each other at the end of the night, you were delirious due to exhaustion. That, piled on with the never ending fear of your love not making it not home to you at the end of the night eating at your subconscious? It was enough to drive anyone mad. “And you won’t baby,” he took a careful step closer to you.”

“You don’t know that Kuroo! The fights you’re doing- they keep getting more and more dangerous. What are you gonna do when someone brings a fucking gun one day. Huh?. The a shallow cut is a fucking bullet hole and you can’t get somewhere for help fast enough.” He could only look down in shame as you yell. It was true, he didn’t know that he’d be ok for certain. The fear of dying had long disappeared from him, and the only thing he worried about was making sure you were ok. An action that while it may have helped on a materialistic level, ate away at your mental. “What if I have to come identify your body one day. Having to look at all the tattoos and think back on the stories about them, knowing I’d never get to hear them repeated for the 100th time. What if I’m left having to bury you.”

He remembered when he’d first started the fighting. It had come after he met a guy one night who ran the underground ring. He’d just lost his mother, the last remaining relative and her hospital and funeral expenses were completely draining. Not to mention the student loans for a degree he had to stop pursuing in order to get a shitty busboy job that just paid minimum wage. Despite only being together a little over a year, you offered to move in with him to split the costs and lessen his financial burden. You offered your own hard earned money to help him pay for the burial of his mom. The fact that you were doing this solely because you cared about him solidified that you were it for him.

Whenever he woke up in a cold sweat, or keeled over in pain you were right there. Promising him that he was ok. That he was safe. Staying down through the ugliness that never seemed to leave the two of you alone. That home was always in your arms and it didn’t matter where you were structurally. The watery laugh escaping your throat, drew him from his thoughts once again. The tears you’d manage to suppress up until now hit the bathroom’s dingy yellow tiles.

“God- I just thought I was enough for you.” His body moved faster than his mind could comprehend. It took two strides for him to have his arms wrapped around your shoulders holding you to him, as if you’d disappear if he let go. Kuroo couldn’t help the tears welling up in his own eyes. God, life was so unfair and you deserved more than he could ever give. Yet, for some reason you wanted him. He ignored the sting in his sides as your arms settled around his middle.

“You are enough for me,” he whispered, repeating the phrase. “More than enough,” this time he moved his hands to cup your cheeks. “Every time I leave, I regret it. You make me want to leave that life behind baby and I promise that I’m going to do it. I just. I just need to save a little more and I’m out.” His thumb wiped a tray tear that fell following his words. Of course you knew he couldn’t necessarily just up and leave. At least not without a plan. Your job wasn’t nearly enough to pay for all the bills the two of you had. Your jaw clenched as you nodded, but he could see straight through the hesitation.

His head fell into the space between your neck and shoulder as he exhaled a shaking breath, blinking away his own threatening tears. “I’ve been getting more lately. Been putting more away for us, and I’m almost there.” You couldn’t help but frown at his words. “Tetsu-”

“I know.” Of course he did. You always said the same thing whenever he felt the need to shoulder all the burden on his own. He stood up straight, dropping his arms as your hands raised to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. the back of his hair. “We’re a team. I know that. But, please. I need you to let me do this. I’m almost there ok?” While the fear of the unknown still lingered, your nod and words of confirmation came out slightly more confident. “Then, I’m leaving that shit behind. I’m telling Daishou that I’m out.” His lips came to gently brush against yours momentarily.

“Promise me.” The words came out as a sentence and he knew the promise was more than just agreeing to leave the fight scene. It was him promising you that he’d be ok, and even though he knew there was no 100 percent guarantee he found himself nodding anyways repeating your words. “I promise.” The two of you found yourselves standing in silence before you were the first to break away.

“Just- take a few days off from the madness and just be here with me. I can call off for a few days, or just drop the extra shifts. Please” Despite the rational part of him thinking about the much needed money you both needed, he felt himself agreeing. You needed this, and so did he. After all, tomorrow was never promised. While there was still more to discuss, the two of you needed tonight to just pretend none of your problems existed. To love one another without fear.

As the two of you laid together in bed, thankful for at least the moment both of your thoughts would occasionally wonder. Thoughts that were broken when the other said something, or when a gentle caress reminded you to be present. His thoughts of just a few more fights, and hoping he could keep his promises to you. He was so close, and he needed to give you the life you deserved. Your thoughts were hopes that he didn’t end up in a body bag. There was no way you could bear that bad news.

a/n: this is something i’ve wanted to do and write for a while. ever since this album came out last month (?) and when i thought about all the people my age in my city who has been lost due to street shit. so idk this was sobering and kinda therapeutic and of course i considered ending it on a bad note/death but i didn’t. idk street life tends to be glamorized in fiction, when its not beautiful and it hurts everyone who loves that person.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #kuroo imagine #hq imagines

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petrichorparacosm · 3 years

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A Conspiracy Theorist’s Take On Coronavirus Conspiracy Theories

So, I am a lifelong Conspiracy Theorist. However, I am part of the often forgot about majority of theorists who don’t base their theories purely on internet hearsay and bigotry. Let’s talk COVID- 19, without that nonsense clouding the truth.

This post is U.S. centric.

I. Origins

I think that the virology lab in Wuhan had something to do with it, just because of how highly suspicious the location of the initial outbreak is. There are a few different possibilities:

a) it was a bio weapon in the later stages of development and was accidentally released;

b) it was a bio weapon in the early stages of development and its release was accidental or meant to be a test but got wildly out of hand;

c) it wasn’t a bio weapon but scientific negligence is what led to the initial outbreak;

d) it’s part of a bigger plan. We’ll get to that theory later

COVID- 19 is highly contagious and has produced several potent mutations, but the death rate is low. This supports either the non- bio weapon or early- stage bio weapon theory: if this was a late stage- bio weapon or an intention release of one, the death rate would be higher. I also don’t think that China would have intentionally released the virus in Wuhan, as this has garnered suspicion and negative attention. It would have made more sense to release it elsewhere, which is why I think it was either accidental or premature.

II. Masks

Three coexisting facts:

1. If the virus came from China, then the American government + corporate powers probably didn’t have a (direct) hand in it;

2. This doesn’t mean that the government + corporate powers aren’t taking advantage of the situation (they definitely are);

3. There is a historical precedent for wearing masks in public and avoiding gatherings during pandemics and epidemics (e.g., the Spanish Flu).

Masks are a conventional, reasonable strategy for avoiding affection. Whether there are organizations using mask mandates for their own purposes is an entirely separate matter, and should be treated as such.

Also, the theory that masks are step one in trying to force Islamic dress codes on us is an example of blatant misinformation used to distract from actual conspiracies + hate mongering used to divide us (the masses). I could give a lot of rebuttals to this bout of Islamophobic nonsense, but I’ll say this: If the malevolent powers that be in this country were, for some reason, interested in forcing Islamic dress codes upon us, our faces would not be their first concern. It would be our midriffs, arms, and legs, then head coverings. Face coverings are far from universal among Islamic communities.

III. Vaccines

This is where stuff gets more complicated. There are a lot of concerns and theories over the vaccine, some of which are more valid than others. There is, of course, the pre- pandemic anti- vaccination movement, which warrants its own discussion. As someone who acknowledges the science behind vaccines in general as sound, I approach this debate with the question “is there anything risky or nefarious about any of the vaccines?”

The most prevalent concerns tend to be :

A) the vaccines were rushed in production and testing and may be unsafe;

B) the vaccines contain a microchip to track us/influence our behavior;

C) the vaccines are designed to reduce or eliminate fertility (especially in women).

Unfortunately, A has no easy answer. The CDC has recently released data that suggests that the vaccine has a higher casualty rate than any other vaccine in the past 20 years, but this still only accounts for 2% of covid related death. To simplify: the COVID-19 vaccines have a high death rate for a vaccine, but a much lower death rate than actual COVID-19.

Of course, it doesn’t help that there’s no real way to verify these numbers, and many news sources either a) refuse to look in to it or b) staunchly believe that COVID was created for the sole purpose of making their lord and savior, Trump, look bad.

Regardless, waiting to get vaccinated is an understandable course of action even if, statistically, getting vaccinated reduces total risk.

Let’s track the history of B: the head of the Russian Communist party and a former Donald Trump advisor support the theory that the vaccines contain microchips to track the movement of the vaccinated, track who has been vaccinated, and possibly influence behavior.

Also feeding the theory is the fact that Bill Gates wanted to give the vaccinated “digital certificates” to identify themselves, and was at one point playing with the idea of injecting people with a “special ink” to make an “invisible tattoo” that would be used to identify the vaccinated without the use of records.

I trust none of these individuals, as each have their own agendas. What makes me skeptical of this theory is that the U.S. government + the corporate powers already track all of us through cell phones and security cameras (fun fact: the U.S. has more surveillance cameras per person than China).

When I took the vaccine out of necessity, I took meticulous notes before and afterwards, documenting my thoughts, opinions, and patterns of behavior. I have not noted any changes.

Finally, C. This one is difficult to prove or disprove, because

1) most people who get vaccinated aren’t going to immediately start actively trying to have babies;

2) fertility rates have been steadily declining for decades;

3) although changes in menstration have been reported after vaccination, the vast majority experienced this as a short term side effect only (I.e, their cycles went back to normal). I had no change in my cycle, nor did my mother.

I will say that I’m not interested in ever giving birth, which is one reason I’m not worried about this- I’m much more inclined to worry about current humans that theoretical future humans.

Now, one thing to note is that reducing the population so drastically is a counterintuitive move for the elites. Less workers = each individual worker is, statistically, less disposable. Less consumers = less consumption.

The only way this theory could be true and make sense is if it’s just the lead up to something else, like lab- based, expensive reproduction to mostly avoid the above, kill off the “undesirables,” and put people in debt whenever they want kids, functionally putting them further under corporate control.

If this was the plan, than the Global Powers That Be (assuming that this was the result of collusion and not China’s attempt at a bio weapon) definitely weren’t ready yet: that kind of technology is available, but not nearly efficient or cost- effective for them to avoid the worker- shortage pitfall yet. Just look at how corporate America has nearly buckled under its own weight at the current shortage of minimum wage workers!

TLDR; the vaccine came from the Wuhan lab and was either a prematurely released bio weapon, the result of epidemiological negligence, or the lead up to some grand conspiracy to control human reproduction, which would be a stupid move on the part of the government- corporate- military complex, and would have required global cooperation and coordination.

Sources/references:

#covid #covid 19 #covid vaccine #vaccines #masks #fertility #surveilance #bill gates #conspiracy #conspiracy theories #long post #us #politics

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mirovoi1 · 4 years

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Five Days with No Shoes – An Experiment in Restructuring the Subconscious View the World

I Am Getting My Socks Dirty!

For the past few days here in Bangkok, Thailand, I have been continuing my experiment of going about daily life with no shoes on – in fact, just in white socks. During the first couple of days, I kept it slightly more low-key, a bit of testing the waters, like a timid cat checking out its environment, just wandering around the area where I am staying, to get food, something to drink, or buy something at 7Eleven. The area is known as Khaosan Road, a backpacker’s haven, where there are a couple of streets loaded with everything the weary or tempted tourist might want. There are bars, cafés, parks, temples, and plenty of people and street-side action to get involved with at almost any time of the day and night. To anyone who knows, this travelers’ hub tends to attract and keep a number of the more ‘unique’ travelers that easily intermingle amongst the more common-looking tourists, and it is rather common to see the more endearing styles of fashion – tattoos, piercings, hairstyles, and the occasional bare-footer. Although the ones sporting bare feet often tend to be hippies, drunk people, or locals that, by the looks of them, tend to be poorer or less of the sane type. I am in none of those categories, I hope. I’m just one of the normal people on the street, but just happens to be in his white socks.

Why Do Such A Thing?

I’m doing this experiment for a number of reasons. A colleague and I are putting together a roughly twenty-minute video of the experiment with a short and simple discussion related to our work in the fields of education, psychology and therapy. This talk is mainly focused towards Chinese people (it is in Chinese) on the topic of pushing your psychological boundaries and acceptance of being different from the crowd. Understanding the psychology of a person cannot be done solely by observation or on paper, so getting to the core of many of the psychological and habitual issues needs to experienced first-hand. Many of our students (both teenage and particularly adults, including student’s parents) tend to often struggle with the acceptance of being different from the crowd and suffer from excuses that avoid the root of their difficulties. To us, as teachers, this psychological state needs to be pushed at and prodded at for the sake of expanding our understanding of their experience. So, I jumped right into this experiment, and as a result, I have gotten more out of it than I ever expected. My internal world has expanded. A few of the ideas, observations and thoughts from the process will be shared in this essay. Who would know that my pairs of white socks would open up a new world to me?

1. Why Does Our Sense of Self Have to Be So Strong?

Fear, nervousness and excitement tend to be confused by the brain as they all stimulate the same biological reactions, such as speeding up the heart rate. It is possible for the brain to confuse what it is actually experiencing. When an emotion of, perhaps, nervousness (activated by the brain telling you that you are different from the others) fear kicks in and the brain looks for things it perceives as ‘threats’. In my case, while being in socks in public, these ‘threats’ tended more likely to be people who might easily notice me; like people walking towards me or people sitting idly by that could possibly make some noticeable sort of remark. It would be these types of perceived ‘threats’ that I would find myself naturally trying to avoid eye contact with or maybe even subconsciously try to change my walking path to avoid ‘confrontation’. People that tended to be busy with their own affairs gave me no concerns at all. There also tended to be differences in perception between people you tend to associate more closely with; whether you know them or not, or would you ever see them again (i.e., the guesthouse staff that see you coming in and out each day without shoes on) - this tended to give me a stronger reaction. Similarly, stronger reactions were evoked from people I either genetically or culturally identified more with – i.e., different genders, ethnicities and age groups. These psychological reactions tended to be based on solely what people could possibly think of me and the strength of the reaction depended on these factors. It is not that I really minded, because walking in socks is far from the end of the world, but I was observing my brain tending to be more active when it was trying to figure out my best life strategies in unfamiliar situations. Questions such as who would I most likely get approval from, who would mostly would stare or give me a negative reaction, who would I bring embarrassment to… these questions fill the brain as it is terrified of being ostracized by the group. Walking the streets in white socks could possibly be enough to make you a laughing stock. That’s a terrifying feeling for a person, no matter what form it comes in. So that is something that needed to be understood, looked at and conquered. I mean, it is my brain’s job to keep me safe and alive (and being part of the group is vital for survival), but it’s my job to keep my brain in check!

During the next couple of days, I started venturing a bit further away from Khaosan Road as I began to feel less and less self-conscious. I then found myself at a Thammasat University having lunch by the river side. My socks tended to still be bright white on the tops, but had black footprints on the bottoms. Sometimes I started thinking that the dirtier they were the more natural it looked. I don’t know what to make of that – maybe it was more acceptance of the state of them. I enjoyed my time there. I walked back with an ice-coffee I bought from a street stall and sat in the park for a couple of hours pondering over the situation. My colleague and I had filmed a part of it to put into the video. The real importance comes down to not just the action of walking shoeless, but the following mental reflection over the what happened during the experience to make sure the brain understands what it is actually seeing and doing as it experiences and reacts to all this new stuff. This is all the brain’s doings, none of it is orchestrated by me. This goes for any situation in life really, but this process is often overlooked, as we move on to the next task ahead. Instead, I walked along the hot sticky street to a park further along the riverside where I laid down in a shady patch of grass under a massive twisted tropical tree and let everything sink in. The brain is automatically doing a lot of stuff I am not even aware of nor wanting to permit it to do, but it is more up to me to to understand that and learn to control what is going on instead. Skills like that should get me higher places than a good pair of sturdy hiking boots could ever. It seems my socks just may hold some magic.

2. Happily Hiding Behind Excuses

Oh, we humans know how to hide. While walking around the streets, into stores, happily soaking up the Bangkok atmosphere, I found myself hiding behind excuses for being shoeless. Despite my body (and bright white socks) being physically exposed for the world to see, but in my mind, I was aiming at quelling the inner dragon of self-consciousness. I thought I had more of a reason, for anyone who may look at me, to be shoeless in the late afternoon than the morning – maybe I had walked a long way and I had blisters, maybe my shoes broke, maybe I was hot? In the morning, by contrast, it just more looked like the guy couldn’t be bothered putting on his shoes. So, I went out in the morning too, not just using the heat as an excuse, or hiding behind the darkness of night. Having a small backpack with me was a good way to hide too. Could this guy be suffering from any of the above situations, and obviously his shoes are in his bag, the random passer-by would think. So, when I could, I would try go out empty-handed where possible. The only pity is I quite like to carry a small backpack with my camera for a bit of photography, and a bottle of water in it. I found taking off my glasses was another good way to not be able to see if people were staring or not, making me feel like I was more in my own world – listening to music could have the same effect. So, I kept the glasses on, and music off. I’d go with my coworker who was in bare feet, that felt more easier as there was the distraction of chatter and dialog about the experiment to hide behind. Going out alone would up the ante, put on a bit more stress, so I made sure to do this too. These are the tactics the brain employs to reason with myself as why to be shoeless. I mean what if someone asks where my shoes are, I could stumble and think of lies, but that won’t get anyone to paradise. All this led me to have to accept the most root of the issue. I am just the guy who is out in his socks. No hiding and denying the fundamental truth behind the situation. Dress the way you like, stand up straight, put yourself into a confident physical position, tell yourself ‘you are just the guy who wears his socks’. Be ready to give sincere eye-contact with whoever you encounter, engage in conversation if anyone asks and just walk on forward. That solved half of the issues.

By the third day, after having had more and more physical practice of being out and about in my white socks, plus plenty of mental exploration and conversation regarding many aspects of the experience, things started feeling more natural. My mind was changing towards self-acceptance and encouragement towards such a lifestyle of endeavor, discovery and self-growth. By this time, I found myself hopping into a taxi one evening to go to MBK center shopping mall. I was planning to leave for India the next day, so wanted to buy a couple of bits and pieces. I spent about two hours in the mall; the bottoms of my socks were rather dirty, but the whole time I was possibly even more relaxed than I would have been if I were in shoes. I am not really a fan of malls, but I found that I was more in a peaceful world of my own more so than a noisy mall of shoppers. I came back via tuk-tuk and wandered back to my guesthouse through the busy bar district of Khaosan. It was if it were any normal day.

3. Tackling the Bull in the Cage

It is the only way to address the issue and gain something true from your endeavors. If you carry yourself confidently, who can belittle you? If you accept the truth, who can deny it? The thing is, the world is like a mirror, if you don’t care, the world doesn’t care either. The world reflects back what is in your mind and in your heart. When I was subconsciously unaware of the fact I was in a busy shopping mall in my socks, to me, it seemed that the whole world was unaware of it. When I was stressed or uncomfortable, then it felt like the world was glaring at me. The subconscious mind brought out all sorts of perceived threats. The mind needs to be trained in order to live out the life you want to live. I have to admit, sometimes it felt weird having my coworker take photos of me while in socks in some public space somewhere with people all around, but you just have to tell yourself: “I accept everything that comes with this.” Maybe no one even saw, or maybe someone did see and probably forgot about it within three seconds. If they do remember it would be because they thought it was cool. Others are welcome to do whatever they want with their observations. But, remember, the noise is inside you.

By the fourth day, I had decided that I was too much invested into this project and to run off to India prematurely wouldn’t be the best choice. I wanted to continue a bit, and I wanted to put the video together (although it was my coworker who mainly took control of that part), and I wanted to write this down. Environment is utmost, and while I am still in this environment, I am more likely to order my ideas in a clearer way. I imagine the smell of curries and sounds of horns in the streets of Bangalore will take my mind away to other places. When you’re focused and enjoying something productive you should stride to stay in that state. Change (or disruption) to an environment is unsettling for a person, and I know this well as that is where my general main work’s focus lies – travel-related education, psychology and therapy. I happened to go to MBK once again, of course in my socks, and wandered the streets nearby and came back by public bus. Over the last day or two before leaving for India, I didn’t plan on any such sock-walks, didn’t aim for any such mental or physical stimulation, but instead, just a quiet calm mood to weather away the hot afternoons and get this writing done. But I realized by habit, I still went out in my socks for a morning coffee and 7eleven for bottles of water, and even out for dinner. It had become a new sort of comfort zone. No one likes the feeling of retraction, so maybe just now putting on shoes, feels a little like that. I actually really like who I am when I am out in my socks. I love the mental stimulation and feeling of freedom. Having seen the videos of myself out and about, I tend to think, under the circumstances, I looked rather confident and natural. I liked the way I looked and even more so, how I felt. The self-affirmation of something is almost more crucial than the actual activity itself.

4. Setting Things Straight

The truth is, walking around a city in a pair of white socks isn’t the epitome of difficulty in this world. To some it would be easy, and to others, mortifying. Depends on you, your previous experiences and interests. The thing is, when confronting your fears, or looking to expand you comfort zone, you need to not only delve directly into them, but you may also need to confirm to yourself the existence of even more difficult things to compare them with. You may even need to actively seek out such things. Things are only small when compared with something bigger, as the Earth is big travelling by bus, but tiny when compared with the universe. So, sometimes to aim at something you perceive as ‘big’ or ‘difficult’, then you may need to not only hack slowly towards its direction, but also hack backwards to reduce the perceived size of it. There, that is something a bit more complicated to contemplate. ha!

You may notice a theme here in that nowhere mentioned was any negative situations being mentioned. That is because during the five-day experiment, there were never any such occurrences. There are many nationalities around Khaosan, and never received a difficulty from anyone. I noticed people occasionally looked. I would also emphasize the word ‘looked’, and not ‘stared’. But on the contrary, I need to mention that no matter what you’re wearing or doing people do look. Yes, I noticed people occasionally still looked while I was wearing flip-flops. People have eyes after all, and they need to set their vision on something, so that’s forgivable. Maybe I just have nice (although hairy) legs? Ha-ha. But, maybe it is something more than that. Maybe it is something about the Thai people and the atmosphere they have created to be inclusive, tolerant and open-minded. To expand on this topic, I will need to keep up my white sock-walking activities across other parts of the world in order to work towards the core of such assumptions.

What Can Thai Attitude Offer The World?

However, the Thai people’s attitude towards life is rather healthy. It seems to be that if something does not harm anyone, then it is not really worth worrying about. That is a fair take on life. I noticed on the rare occasion when someone did not know what to make of me being in my socks, then substitute was a smile or laughter. That takes you back to the ‘world being a mirror’ philosophy; if you are self-conscious or flustered under a circumstance a laugh can be perceived as a snigger or an intrusion. When your soul and mind are calm, a laugh could be perceived as a friendly sign of acceptance or interest. It seems the Thais are slower in their reactions and judgements, allowing themselves sufficient time for a reasonable and proper response to ensue. I like the fact they are natural and thoughtful in their responses, something obviously passed down through their Buddhist faith. I would say, as a whole, I got a more neutral to positive reception anywhere I went in my socks. The interesting thing is, that is the same Thai reception I have received anywhere under almost any circumstance - with shoes on or off. But of course, there would be places you wouldn’t want to go in your socks, just as you wouldn’t swim in the sea or go to bed while wearing your shoes. Well, you can do that and why not if that is what you want - who are we to judge? But, it seems here in Thailand, if you are reasonable in your attitude and polite in your behavior, the Thais will treat you with the same respect. Hats off (or shoes off) to the Thais for that. We can all learn a lot from them.

Your Growth Is Your Offering To The World

It is also your own responsibility to work at expanding your comfort zone. There is not a single soul that does not want to become a bigger and better version of themselves. Explore and grow; that what souls do. It is your job to dig out what it needs and how to go about it. Sock-walking is just my own personal way, among others. But I also find it necessary that people take on such things. It is quite funny to know that all along during the beginning of the experiment, my brain was constantly doing all it could to help me avoid being ostracized by other humans. It was working to keep me surviving in optimal fashion. However, on the flipside, being the same as everyone does not necessarily get you anywhere at all. The ‘herd mentality’ is not lauded; it is not held in high regard. In fact, it is the opposite. I would believe that my getting out in my white socks is a rather positive thing in many people’s perceptions. I could see it and feel that at times. Maybe someone else just happened to think a little thought such as, ‘yeah, why not.’ Being a bit different reaffirms in others’ minds that possibilities exist. It is like the idea of recycling or reducing plastic use; you only really get the idea of when you are reminded of it, or see others taking part in it. My experiment probably does far better for the world that one would imagine.

My Unexpected Gains

I actually feel I have been through a type of therapy myself. I feel energetic. I had to make a quick phone call to an elderly neighbor in China, and she mentioned the change in my tone of voice. I was quite astonished when she said I sounded younger. My eyes feel bright. The flame in my soul feels steady. Making the video and seeing myself in it looking confident and actually liking the look of it, made me feel rather positive about myself. I feel mentally light. Maybe it’s because of Thailand itself and the abundance of sunshine. Maybe it is just because of finishing a two-week work project to Nepal with a group of my students. Maybe I am feeling a natural change towards a new segment of growth in my field. Or maybe I am feeling physically light because of having walked without shoes as you begin to tread more lightly and carefully; you are more concentrated and focused on your steps more than usual (the Buddhist monks tend to go barefoot). Maybe it all had a meditative effect, or maybe it was a boost of energy from the beneath the Earth, something like the opposite of how you soak up vitamin D from the sun above. Maybe it was the psychological pushing and prodding of my internal world. Maybe it was the instinctual need for physical stimulation of the body. Maybe it was sensual stimulation of the mind and feet. Maybe it was all of it together that reenergized my body, mind and soul. Maybe it was a bit of everything. I don’t know yet. But I feel I have given myself some psychological and perceptual reorganizing. Maybe it has been a Thai Massage-like internal workout for the body and mind.

An Experiment in Restructuring the Mind

However way, when you throw yourself into the deep end for an experiment in self-growth, it is not always easy and does take some courage and effort. And, so it should. Everything worthwhile always involves an element of difficulty. Why should one be rewarded without having put in any work anyway? Personally, I am very satisfied with this experiment and it has been an interesting, fun and valuable experience and I am sure I will enjoy the benefits of it for a long time to come. I will probably try to keep up with the occasional sock-walk when and where possible, and will aim at attempting the experiment again in other parts of the world. So, if next time you see a guy out in his white socks, it just might be me. Cheers! J

Note:

Yes, I got several pairs of socks dirty. They washed up well when hand washed in the shower. I got zero holes in them. I received zero cuts or injuries from being out shoeless during these five days.

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