#oracle force drop table

[wchswift]

✰ PATCH ME IN, BABY

→ summary: being the boys’ hacker means long nights, shitty coffee, and zero quiet—but being soldier boy's hacker girlfriend makes the chaos worth it, especially when it ends in teasing, softness, and good hot sex.

⤿ soldier boy x supe hacker!reader / cw: established relationship, domestic fluff + smut, light banter, slightly soft ben (for you only), kinda out of character ben.

⤿ word count! 1.2k

Your nose wrinkles at the smell of burned toast and gun oil that fills the loft.

Which, if you ask anyone else, is a disaster. But to you, it’s just home. Soldier Boy’s boots are kicked off near the door, his shield leaning against the kitchen table like it owns the damn place. You’re curled up on the couch in one of his old tees—an ancient, washed-out thing that reads Support Our Troops—your laptop balanced on your thighs as you tap away.

He strolls out of the shower, towel low on his hips, still damp, beard a little more trimmed. Bare chest on full display.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, not even looking up, “ever heard of clothes?”

Ben smirks, voice low and gravelly. “Ever heard of knocking before ogling your man in his natural habitat?”

“I live here, and it's my place actually,” you deadpan. “and I wasn’t ogling. I was regretting my life choices.”

He saunters closer, towel slipping lower. “Sure you were, sweetheart.”

You snort but don’t protest when he plants himself behind the couch and leans over to peer at your screen. drops of water dripping from his hair, cool against your neck. “Whatcha workin’ on, Oracle?”

“Cross-checking security footage from that Vought safehouse Butcher wants us to hit. And don’t call me Oracle. I’m not a comic book character.”

He smirks, beard brushing your temple as he leans in. “C’mon, it’s a solid supe-name. You’re the hacker chick. The brains. The spooky voice in our ears.”

You snort. “Yeah, and you’re the dumbass who thinks brute force counts as a personality trait.”

Ben chuckles, low and smug. “Aw, come on. I’m the muscle, you’re the brains. It’s a classic combo.”

“Oh, so that’s what we’re calling you now? Muscle?”

"Look at least I’m not the one hiding behind a screen like a little princess while the rest of us do the dirty work.”

You slowly swivel in your seat to face him, raising a brow. “Princess?”

“If the combat boot fits…”

“Oh please. I could knock you on your ass without breaking a sweat.”

Ben chuckles. “Sure you could, sweetheart.”

“You’re only alive half the time because I am behind a screen,” you fire back. “I do the heavy lifting. You just don’t notice, ‘cause the only muscles you ever use are the ones in your biceps and your jaw.”

He grins, eyes glittering with affection. “And still, you’re into me. And you love those muscles. What does that make you then?”

You lean your head back, grinning up at him. “Touché.”

For a moment, there’s silence—comfortable, warm. His fingers drift lazily along your collarbone, rough thumb tracing circles against your skin like he’s not even aware he’s doing it.

This is the side of Soldier Boy the world never sees. Not the snarling, posturing legend. Just Ben. Your Ben. Who makes the worst coffee in New York, sings off-key in the shower, and eats peanut butter straight from the jar with a hunting knife.

And who, against every possible odd, is stupidly in love with you.

“You done soon?” he asks, mouth brushing your temple.

You hum. “Ten minutes. Why? Got somewhere to be?”

“Nowhere but here.”

That earns him a soft smile. “You’re getting sentimental in your old age.”

“Yeah, well,” he rumbles, “don’t tell the others. I’ve got a rep to ruin.”

You tilt your head up to kiss him. Just a quick thing, a peck—but he deepens it like he’s been waiting all day for it. Tongue, teeth, hand in your hair. When he finally pulls back, your lips are kissed raw.

You blink up at him, breathless. “You were saying something about ruining your rep?”

Ben grins, all cocky and warm. “Was thinkin’ I’d ruin you instead.”

Oh. He was so embarrassing but oh.

Laptop forgotten, you twist to kneel on the couch and pull him towards you by the neck. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

You don’t make it to the bedroom.

He likes you right here, half-naked on his lap, his shirt riding up your hips as you grind against the hard length of him beneath his towel. His hands are big and warm and everywhere—cupping your ass, spreading your thighs wider.

“You wearin’ panties under this?” he growls, tugging at the shirt.

“Nope,” you say sweetly.

Ben groans, hands tightening around your waist. “Fuck, baby. You tryna kill me?”

“You’re a superhero, remember? Thought you could take it.”

He rips the shirt over your head, groaning like he’s been denied oxygen. “You tryna take me, is what you’re doin’.”

Your fingers slide into his damp hair, tugging gently as you kiss him again—slow, deep, filthy. His beard scratches your skin in all the right ways, his chest hot and solid against yours. You roll your hips, and he hisses, low and dangerous.

“Christ, you’re wet, soaking the fucking towel,” he mutters against your throat. “Fuckin’ soaked for me, huh?”

You gasp as he shifts, letting the towel fall away so he can slide two thick fingers through your folds, teasing but never giving you enough.

“Ben…”

“Tell me what you want, babygirl.”

You grind down, frustrated and aching. “I want you. Inside me. Now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

In one smooth motion, he lifts you by the hips and sinks you down onto his cock, both of you gasping as he stretches you open. He’s big—always is—but tonight you take him so well, like you were made for him.

“Fuck, you always feel good, always my perfect doll.” he pants, fingers bruising your hips as you start to ride him.

You move together like you’ve done it a hundred times—because you have. But it never gets old. The sweat, the grip of his hands, the way he watches you like you’re everything.

Like he’s not a living weapon, a goddamn legend.

Just a man. Your man.

“Ben,” you whisper, forehead pressed to his. “Love you.”

He kisses you hard, hips snapping up to meet yours.

“Yeah?” he groans. “Then come for me, baby. Show me.”

You do—body shuddering, walls fluttering around him as you cry out, the world narrowing to white-hot pleasure and his name on your lips.

He follows right after, with a deep, desperate sound, spilling inside you and holding you close like you might vanish.

When it’s over, you collapse against him, boneless and panting, skin sticky with sweat.

“You good?” he murmurs, brushing your hair from your face.

You smile sleepily. “Better than good.”

Ben nuzzles your neck. “Think I like this domestic shit.”

“Yeah?” you mumble. “Even when I hog the blankets and leave hair in the sink?”

“Especially then,” he says, and damn it, he means it.

You fall asleep there on the couch, tangled together under a throw blanket that smells like sex and old cologne, a bag of Doritos within arm’s reach and his shield watching over you like a silent, patriotic chaperone.

Honestly?

You wouldn’t change a damn thing.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

⛥ main masterlist.

Lina's notes: hello!! this is the first part of a mini-series with independent one-shots that I was already planning and even mentioned here. I had this idea of soldier boy with a supe hacker reader based on DC's Oracle, and my god, I'm in love with them and their dynamic, so I wrote this little drabble as an introduction to them and their little story. I hope you guys like it and want to read more when I finally start the series properly <3

taglist: @blossomingorchids @rositaslabyrinth @bettystonewell @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @bluemerakis @h8aaz @bruisedfig @jasvtsc @maddie0101 @bejeweledinterludes @starzify @gibson-g1rl @losers-clvb @tinas111 @amaris444 @sapphic-destiel @deansmisha (let me know if you want to be added or removed <3)

[aceofshitposts]

Contrary to popular belief Tim is actually well aware of the importance of sleep. Tim knows that the body needs sleep to function optimally, that he needs to get more of it and imbibe less caffeine. That would all be well and good, if his body would let him.

Tim's no stranger to insomnia. Has suffered sleepless nights staring at the inside of his eyelids over and over until... Well, if he wasn't going to get any sleep anyway he might as well do something else. Tailing Batman and Robin when he was younger then working on cases, tinkering with gadgets in the early morning hours in the Batcave; anything to maybe force his body past the point of no return so he could actually sleep.

While it's gotten better, Tim still spends more time awake then he does asleep. It might be easier, some nights, but not always.

"I'm heading in early." It's a thankfully quiet night but Tim can feel the exhaustion tugging at his limbs. By his estimation he's gotten a scattered total of ten hours of sleep the last couple days and none of it was particularly restful.

"Alright," comes Oracle's computerized voice, "you okay?"

"Fine. Just feeling a little under the weather." It's true enough and Tim manages to be in bed in his apartment a little after 12:30am.

He just has to close his eyes. Close his eyes, stop thinking...

Two hours pass and Tim still. Can't. Sleep.

Fine then. There's WE reports to review anyway. If he passes out while working on the couch then so be it.

The sun is beginning to rise, Tim's living room cast in a deep orange light when there's a noise at the balcony. Even as tired as he is Tim manages to fish a batarang out from the underside of the coffee table and brandish it at the intruder.

"The hell are you doing awake?"

Who turns out to be the Red Hood in all his armoured glory, a plastic takeout bag dangling from one hand.

Tim drops back onto the couch in a huff, rubbing one hand down his face.

"Honestly couldn't tell you. What're you doing here?"

"Blondie told me you were sick," Jason says simply, placing the plastic bag on the coffee table with a thunk. The helmet follows soon after. "Thought I'd drop off some food as thanks for helping me out the other day, especially if you were doing it while getting sick."

Huh. That's awful... thoughtful of Jason. Unfortunately, Tim wasn't any more sick than he was normally, Stephanie had probably exaggerated the problem just through hearsay.

Jason is looking at him. Scrutinizing him in a way only a bat can.

Tim's never exactly told anyone about his troubles with insomnia, content to let everyone just assume it was by choice. Which was probably an entirely different problem in and of itself.

"Alright, come on," Jason says. Commands, really. He's gone from the other side of the coffee table to grabbing Tim by the bicep and hauling him to his feet in the span of a blink. Or maybe Tim's perception of time has completely deteriorated. One of the two.

"What?" Tim asks belatedly in the middle of being dragged from the livingroom to the bedroom. Jason doesn't answer, instead drawing the blackout curtains to block out the rising sun and... it's not quite a shove, but it's definitely not a suggestion either that Tim lie down.

He disappears out the door leaving Tim to wonder if he actually hallucinated all that. There's noise in the apartment- the fridge door opening, the rustling of a plastic bag, the fridge door closing. Tim expects Jason to leave, sighing into his comforter as he tries to get comfortable. If he's lucky he'll fall asleep in a few hours at this rate.

And then he hears the bedroom door close. Footsteps and a weight on the bed. Warm, strong arms pull Tim in until he's pressed flush against Jason's solid body.

Tim starts to wonder if he did fall asleep on the couch and is currently just. Halluci-dreaming. Or something.

Jason's chest expands, his breath ruffling Tim's hair.

"Stop thinking, babybird," he rumbles, squeezing Tim a little tighter.

Tim closes his eyes and falls asleep in record time.

[smutinlove]

Have you done any Jealous Dick or Jason, like they are yet to date the reader, or someone is hitting on their girl. (if you do female readers, otherwise GN works. Just as a girl, I think girl for gender for when I read things)

or what about fake dating trope?

Or they got drunk while on a mission in Vagas and end up married and don't find out until the marriage certificate comes in the mail. (you could do this twice, one where the boys have a crush on the reader or it is done enemies to lovers style)

doing the second one because it's ICONIC.

dick x fem reader.

i dont know what a marriage certificate looks like btw

Las Vegas was iconic. The bright city lights, the drinking, the partying... etc. Everything about Vegas was amazing. I mean, you would definitely remember, right?

Wrong. You and Dick had gone to Vegas undercover. You remember arriving at a hotel, and then, after that, you couldn't recall anything.

Neither could Dick. But he did remember a sound. It was like a loud and obnoxious bell, he described.

Currently, you and Dick sat in the living room of his apartment, trying to recall all the events that you two had forgotten about.

"So there were loud noises, right?" Dick asked. "Duh! It's Vagas. Everything is loud, Dick!" He rolled his eyes.

"Wait, so, we were supposed to just get intel on this man named "Joe Johnson," right? How'd we fuck that up?" You buried your head in your hands.

Dick sighed. "You know what? We need to go to bed. I'll drop you off at your place, 'k?" You nodded, knowing he was right. The fucker was always right.

"Thanks, Dick," you said. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. "Stay safe, alright?" He pulled away and watched as you entered your apartment building.

He couldn't help but grin as he opened his car door and drove away. Dick couldn't recall every little detail that happened a few weeks ago, but he knew that something between you and him happened. And he was Dick Grayson; he knew everything.

You tossed and turned in your bed before reaching for your phone on the bedside table. You turned it on, only to be greeted with dozens of texts, cryptic emails, and missed calls. You gasped.

You immediately called him back, and you weren't even surprised when he answered on the spot.

"Where are you?" He asked through the phone.

"Home. What's wrong? What happened, Dick? The emails you left me... The texts," you explained.

You could hear him frowning. "Just come over, okay? It's easier to explain in person." You sighed. "Fine, I'll be there in twenty," you said before ending the call.

You knocked on the door of Dick's apartment. He opened the door, noticing that you were soaked.

He quickly forced you inside. "Sit, fuck."

He wrapped his jacket around you and poured you some hot coffee. "Are you alright?" Dick asked. His cheeks were red, but his eyes were filled with genuine worry.

"I'm great," you replied, giving him a reassuring tap on the shoulder. "Anyway, what's up? You called me several different times."

He sighed. "Give me a minute," he said before getting up and leaving you alone in his living room.

A couple of minutes passed before he entered the living room again. But this time, he had something with him. It was an envelope.

"Open it. See for yourself," said Dick in a tired voice.

You took it from him and opened it. There was a piece of paper. You skimmed over it, seeing your name, then his, then the word "marriage."

You gasped. You had legally married Dick Grayson and had no memory of it. "Dick, what else?" you asked as you re-read the piece of paper over and over, hoping for something new to appear.

"I searched the internet. I even asked Oracle and Batman for help," he sighed. "I saw CCTV footage of us walking into a church, and a few hours later, we exited together. It's easier to show."

He took your hand and led you into his "area of operations," aka his computer, tucked in a tight corner.

Dick turned it on and dug into a few files before he started showing you masses of footage and pictures. He had managed to wipe them off the internet, because if anyone (with bad intentions) found out, the two of them would be in danger.

But obviously, he kept a secret file.

By the time you had skimmed through the footage, your lips had parted away from the frown. You sighed and looked at Dick. "This is such a shock," you finally managed to mutter.

"I know," he said, looking deeply into your eyes; it felt like he could see your soul. "Dick," you muttered. He nodded, motioning for you to continue. "I'm so scared but confused and nervous. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how to feel." You sighed.

"This is all shocking." A tear slid down your cheek. Dick's thumb reached out, wiping it away. "Pretty girls shouldn't cry," he whispered softly. He leaned in and lifted your chin.

"I'm pretty?" You questioned. "You're the prettiest woman, love."

Within a blink of an eye, his lips found their way onto yours. He didn't care that you were still wet from the rain. He enjoyed your company.

His hands were tangled in your hair.

The two of you shared a passionate kiss before pulling away. "I've had a crush on you for a while now," he blurted out, his cheeks red. Dick was clearly trying to avoid your gaze.

"I mean, you're pretty... cute yourself."

"Just cute?" Dick questioned, tilting his head.

"Maybe more than that."

WILD. dick is the only man that'll ask you to come over and then say "give me a minute" by the time you're in his living room

[v-writes]

Captured King snippet 3

Happy wip wednesday y'all

part 1 part 2 ao3

"Danny?" Batman asks Red Robin.

"Yup. Danny Phantom, he's using his alias as a last name."

~~~

Phantom tenses, fists tight where the cuffs connect them to the table.

Hood saunters in, turning his chair to sit backwards, "do you know who I am?"

Phantom deliberately loosens his posture, eyes taking the same vacant stare he has adopted at every other attempt to question.

"I'm the Red Hood, an Outcast operating out of Gotham."

No response from Phantom.

"Right. Fair. Ok, how about instead we start this conversation with someone you actually want to talk to?"

A slight twitch from Phantom, oh so momentarily tilting his head to the side questioningly as Red Hood pulls a communicator from a cargo pocket.

~~~

Batman narrows his eyes as he sees Oracle's symbol flash on the screen before Hood places the phone on the table. Phantom deliberately does not look at it, until the communicator clicks, indicating the call had connected and a young feminine voice warily speaks, "hello? Red Hood?"

~~~

Phantom's composure crumples, desperately snatching the communicator, crying out, "Ellie! Ellie is that you? Are you okay?"

"Danny! Yeah I'm" her voice cracks, and there is a wet quality to her voice when she continues, "I'm fine. Knew you'd get me out, even if you needed help."

"Hey." A second voice joins Ellie's on the call, "we need to wrap this up and get out of here."

"Right, are you two ready for a show?" Hood asks.

"Wait!" Ellie demands, "is everyone out?"

"All of ours are." Ellie's companion scoffs.

"Red! That's not all that matters, we're supposed to be better than that!"

Danny flinches in his seat.

"Oracle" Hood says, "what's the evacuation status?"

"Scans confirm what the Red Huntress said, all ghosts have been released, and the evacuation protocols we triggered have been followed, all 'employees' are accounted for outside of the facility."

"Red Huntress, Ellie, are you two a safe distance away?"

"Yes"

"Perfect. Ready whenever you are then."

~~~

Red Robin smiles, pressing a button on his wrist computer, the distinctive sound of an explosion comes over Red Hood's communicator while the Red Huntress and Ellie cheer.

"Red Robin."

"Batman."

Batman turns away from the observation window to look at Red Robin directly.

Red Robin's smile drops into a sneer, "have you even been in a GIW facility that wasn't sterilized before your arrival? Nobody was in it, I'm not sorry for destroying a building, and Ellie deserves the cheer."

Batman hadn't. He had wanted to. But when it came to prioritizing, the destructive force had ranked higher. And while the Justice League had been busy with Phantom, the rest of his team had inserted themselves. It shouldn't surprise Batman, and any shock was vastly outweighed by exasperation. Trusting others, relinquishing any ounce of control didn't come naturally to Bruce. 'Luckily' for him, he had somehow surrounded himself with hyper competent people who had no problem wresting control for themselves.

"Hn."

"Hn." Red Robin smirks, shaking his head as they turn back to face the interrogation room.

~~~

As their cheers dies down Red Huntress speaks resolutely, "Danny. We need to leave. I gave her a dose of ecto dejecto, and I'm taking her to Frostbite for a full check up. Any other update will wait until you're back with us in person. See you soon."

She hangs up before Danny can respond.

Danny stares at the communicator for a long desperate moment, before slowly looking up to Red Hood. "You helped her? The Red Huntress was with you?"

"Not initially, no. But she was the first person Ellie could name as an emergency contact. After you that is."

"And she's ok? You saw her, how is she- she's ok?"

Hood hesitates, speaking slowly, calming, "whatever the Red Huntress gave her helped, the 'ecto dejecto'? But she was in bad shape. Your Red seems confident she will be fine, but I don't know if that was sincere or for Ellie's benefit. And I would have no idea where to even begin with medical attention with her whole deal, and how 'ghost' biology works." As he speaks he opens the manila folder he had brought with him, sliding it over to Danny, who flips through the pages with shaking hands.

~~~

From the angle of the observation room Batman can't see what he is looking at, he turns slightly to Red Robin, who interrupts before Batman can ask.

"There's nothing in that file that isn't also in the upload from Oracle, if you want details you can read that, it's notes and pictures from a very relevant GIW experiment."

"Hn."

~~~

"Thank you. For getting her out."

"It was the right thing to do."

"I don't think the GIW would agree with you there."

"Good. From where I'm sitting, standing against them is the right side to fight for. If not for Ellie's insistence that 'we're supposed to be better than that' I can't say I would have stuck to your MO of clearing the building before destroying it."

"I can't say I would blame you. Or that I would have been able to stick to my MO if I arrived too late. But it's, it's important to me to be able to say we aren't the monsters they say we are. Thank you for that as well."

"You didn't see her when I first found her-" Danny glances quickly between a picture from the folder and Hood, raising an eyebrow, "I don't mean that. That that doesn't surprise you is its own kind of concerning. She was in a holding cell. She thought I was one of them and-"

"You don't like being seen as a monster."

Red Hood freezes for a moment. "Sometimes I do. But never by kids and not-" Hood laughs, interrupting himself before continuing, "gods, the change in her demeanor when I said your name and she thought you had sent me. That sister of yours has a lot of faith in you."

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippet Thursday:

Giving Sig gray hairs for fun and profit (sorry, Sig, it's for a good cause)

Going with the winner of the poll here: "Damas Commits to the Bit too hard and Sig is Going To Slap Him"

Premise: Sig went on all of two missions with the Demolition Duo and decided "dibs, my rookies now, no take-backs".

"No leads on Mar yet."

Sig slouched in the corner booth, eyeing the empty bar as he spoke quietly into his talk-box. "Been trying to work out why Jak was able to talk to that Oracle in the slums. Only thing I know for sure is that it's teaching him to control all the dark eco Praxis forced into his bloodstream."

"His bloodstream?!"*

Damas sounded appalled.

"Eco outside of the core organ is some of the worst pain a hu'men can experience shy of a gut-shot! When did that happen?"

Sig clenched his teeth hard.

"Over the last two years. Snatched the kid off the street and put him through that for two years trying to make a super-soldier while Jak fought him every step of the way."

"I wish I could say that didn't sound like a logical progression of his depravity," Damas hissed on the other end of the line. "That your recruit managed to walk away from that -- let alone resist for two years -- is impressive."

There was a thoughtful note in the king's voice. He was considering something. Now was as good a time as any to try to catch him in an agreeable mood. Sig braced himself.

"...I have a request. I know you don't want to get involved in the civil war beyond runnin' guns, but-"

"Spit it out, Sig."

Sig rubbed the skin under his prosthetic eye and groaned.

"I'm...scared for Jak, man. Every time I see him, he's weaker. Kid’s about to drop over the edge of exhaustion and he keeps trudging on because he says "they" told him to. And I'm pretty sure he's talkin' about the Underground. Now, I know it's off agenda, but- I wanna follow him back. Find out whose trying to work him to death and straighten em out."

He could barely see the shrug on the monitor as Damas answered.

"Why're you asking me? He's your kid."

Something warm fluttered in Sig’s stomach and he grinned despite himself. "Yeah. I...guess he kinda is at this point, isn't he?"

The line was quiet for a few seconds. Time enough for sounds to begin emanating from the street. Then,

"When you find Mar-"

When. Not if. As if his success wasn't even in question.

"When you bring him home, bring Jak, too. I want to meet this kid in person."

"You think I'd let him and Daxter stay here?" Sig scoffed.

Just then, the door swung open, bringing with it the ottsel's familiar voice.

"I'm tellin' you, sweetheart, it's all about the pine-pears. Slice em, grill em, put em on the steak. I guarantee even Hoverboy will love it."

Tess walked in with the boys -- Sig didn't blame them for walking together. This wasn't the nicest neighborhood even without the KG -- and she giggled.

"Daxxie, I've never even had pine-pear. How am I supposed to convince Krew to put something on the menu if we can't get any?"

Jak looked worse than before. The circles beneath his eyes were deep and purple, and he looked dehydrated. Daxter perked up from his shoulders to glance in Sig’s direction.

Crap. He loved the boys, but they weren't cleared to know about Spargus yet.

"Hey, shift's gonna be starting soon, hon. Imma have to call you back."

"I beg your pardon?!" Damas sputtered.

After a beat, in which he must've heard the other voices, he sounded calmer. "Ah. You have company. Carry on."

"Yeah yeah yeah. No, I'll remember. Don't worry about it," Sig said quickly, and a little louder than necessary. "Milk, eggs, paper towels. You need me to grab anything else when I clock out?"

Jak stopped next to his table and cocked his head with a soft frown.

"Who you talkin' to?" he asked.

With a sardonic lilt, Damas’s voice grated in his ear.

"Oh, is that my "stepson"? Yeesh, he sounds rough. Tell him to take a nap."

"Tell him yourself!"

"Sure. Watch your ears."

And before he had time to brace himself, Sig had his ears ringing as Damas raised his voice and loudly called,

"Hey kid! Be good for your old man today. Take a nap when he tells you to this time."

"What the-?" Jak squinted at the talk-box.

Sig flushed scarlet from the tip of his ears to his neck when he heard the usually stoic king burst into uncontrolled cackling.

"I'm gonna round up the kids, and then I'm gonna smack you when I get home" he whispered harshly into the line.

"You wouldn't!" Damas snickered, just before ending the call, "Think of the children!"

"I am going to get him for this," Sig muttered as Jak’s face twisted in confusion.

"Who the heck is that?"

"A menace, that's who," Sig growled. "Ignore him."

Unfortunately, Jak did not.

The more time he and Daxter spent with Sig, recovering from missions under the guise of "Wastelander training", the more comfortable he became with Sig having more or less unceremoniously adopted them. And the more comfortable with Sig he got, the more accustomed he became to encrypted calls from Spargus. The ones Sig wouldn't tell him about yet.

Damas’s terrible habit of taking a Situation and running with it came back to bite them both when a message came while Sig was running perimeter check. And Jak answered the comm.

"You...are not supposed to be on this line."

To his credit, Damas kept reasonably calm.

"Where's your dad, rookie?"

"Sig's clearing the building," Jak answered with a shrug.

"I'd go grab him, but apparently broken toes disqualify you from pest control."

"Eco would fix that quickly enough."

"That's what I said!" Jak gestured vaguely towards the door. "It's not even the worst injury I've gotten in a base!"

Daxter paused on his way past Jak to the kitchen.

"That's true," he called over, "I think catching the live scatter rounds with your bare hands still holds the title on that one, pal."

"Eh." Jak made an entirely too casual shrug.

"Now, don't tell me you were juggling ammunition," Damas said, with a bit of mild reproof under the dry tone.

"The kid tried to channel em," Jak defended himself, "Slight burns or crabby toddler with super strength? Definitely could have been worse. Sig freaked out over that one, too."

Damas’s face went blank very abruptly.

"What toddler."

The door opened, and Jak glanced over.

"Oh, hey Sig. Your "it's complicated" is on the comm."

Sig made a very amusing impression of a fish out of water. He rushed across the room and snatched the talk-box.

"You don't have clearance for my comm, cherry! You know that!"

"What?" Jak asked indignantly, even as Sig propelled him out of the room.

"It's just that stepdad guy! What's the big deal?"

Sig glared at the box. "You did this."

Damas barely noticed. "He can stay, I need to clear something up with him."

If looks could kill, Damas would have been shaking hands with his ancestors at that moment.

"Out. Go run your weapons drills." Sig waved the boys away.

"Well so much for being consistent with him," Damas needled.

Another discreetly murderous glance was aimed at the camera lens.

"Are you serious right now."

"Jak may have information about Mar's location, Sig. I'm dead serious."

Sig snapped back to look at Jak so quickly that Jak was afraid he was going to get whiplash.

Jak blinked.

"Uh...we're not talking about the dead city founder guy, are we? Because I don't know where he is, but the old lady is making me look, so I can probably get you intel later."

*"Toddler,"* Damas corrected tightly, "Green hair, wearing an amulet of Mar. Powerful but uncontrolled channeling potential. Would be about four now."

Jak relaxed. "Oh, him! Yeah, I dropped him off with Vin at the power station because the Shadow was letting him play in the street again."

The combined stares of his semi-legal guardian and the man on the tiny screen left him fidgeting uncomfortably.

"....what?"

[theresattrpgforthat]

How about any TTRPGs set underwater that aren't horror themed?

THEME: Underwater Games.

Hello friend! I am so sorry that your asks got eaten - I'm glad to have them back! (It looks like Tabletop Trick or Treat unearthed a few gems.)

Now, let's see what kind of underwater games I can fish up for you!

Deepwater Enclaves, by kiryas.

Just plain old air pollution? A failed weather control experiment? Or more sinister forces? Nobody will know for sure why earth cooled below a dark mantle of clouds in the 1980s. Agriculture could not adapt fast enough and when conventional battles for the few remaining natural resources close to the equatorial line erupted into full-scale nuclear war, humanity was on the brink of extinction. Less than five hundred thousand mostly malnourished, freezing humans were left, when the year 2000 began.

This game is about venturing from a safe Community into the unknown. At the core are taking risks for your loved ones; sometimes this is at odds with your individual motives.

Deepwater Enclaves is a Rooted in Trophy game that contains a number of roll tables with evocative choices, and a community creation that involves the entire table. As players, you play both your character and a member of the community who is important to someone else. You play through a series of scenes, structured in a similar way to the way you might set up a scene in a tv show.

To participate in a scene, if you are not one of the original characters set to play a role, other players must spend a token. These tokens are also used to affect outcomes from when you roll, as well as reduce risks that may pop up as you play. You need two different colours or shades of d6’s for this: one colour will represent regular dice, while the other will represent “dark” dice, which raise the stakes whenever you roll with them.

Overall, I think this game is about exploration and survival. I think it has the potential to be a horror game if you want it to be, but you can also alter the tone to redirect the story towards something more dramatic, perhaps centring the game more on your community, and awarding the players with enough tokens to give them the ability to pull themselves out of danger.

Carcinauts!, by Hessan Yongdi.

Carcinauts! is inspired by a famous British children's animated TV show that takes place in and around the sea. You play animal explorers, scientists, and rescuers. Joined by your many friends and helpers, you seek to learn more about our fascinating oceans. Make the world a better place for the animals who live in and around the Great Blue Sea!

Based on the prolific Dominus system created by members of the Brazilian RPG community, Carcinauts! is designed to allow for quick play without a game master. This makes it idea for a solo session in the Sea or a team adventure, using the tables to build out your story. Its simple rules based around d6s and largely non-violent topic materials also make this game child-friendly.

Carcinauts is a two-page game that feels a little bit like a kid’s show; you are all underwater animal explorers, going on missions and solving problems. The resolution of the game is called the Dilemma oracle, and is fairly simple. You must determine two possible outcomes or answers, and then roll 1d6. On a 1-3 the first option is true, on a 4-6 a second option is true. These outcomes need not necessarily be “success” and “failure” either. They could be “left” and :right”, “up” and “down”, or “true” and “false”. This resolution system also makes the game friendly to solo gamers or GM-less tables.

If you want a light-hearted game about underwater explorers, which generates a lot of story ideas for you, maybe check out Carcinauts.

Deep Love, by Bully Pulpit Games.

You’ve come to this paradise to drop a two-and-a-half ton iron ball off the side of a ship and lower it almost a kilometer into the abyss. 

You’ve come to crawl inside that iron ball and go down with it, to see what there is to see down there. 

You’ve come with three other brilliant adventurers, friends, and lovers, and you’ll all get a chance to descend and risk your lives in exchange for seeing things no human being has ever seen.  And maybe, in the inky darkness and cold silence, you’ll find a measure of happiness and fulfillment.

Deep Love has a fond appreciation for old naturalist drawings of various fish, and uses those drawings as the art for the game. You play four characters, possibly pre-generated, on an expedition to the deep waters of an island for a geographic expedition. You all have feelings for each-other, and you’ll have to spend some extended time in a bathysphere to sort this out.

This game looks like it’s equal parts emotional conversation & role play, and, on the other hand, discovering the wonder of the ocean. According to the designer, it looks like you can modify how much you want to experience the former, and how much you want to experience the latter. If you want a game that gives you the tools to explore both your character’s internal emotional landscape as well as the strange underwater world around them, you might like Deep Love.

Submerged, by Arcane Atlas Games.

SUBMERGED is a solo journalling game of undersea exploration.

In this game, you take on the role of a daring explorer aboard a submersible. You have been charged with venturing into the depths of the ocean, to find something wondrous and undiscovered, hidden deep below the waves.

This one is for the solo gamers! It’s based on Carta, which uses a deck of cards to explore a map or series of locations. The player draws a number of cards and lays them face-down in a grid. Each turn, you move to a new card, flip it over, and come up with a journal entry based on the prompt the card gives you. The four suits represent four elements of the game: the Lost City, The Creature, the Wreckage, and the Signal. All of these elements play into the themes of mystery and exploration that this game seems to be about, but I don’t think any of it is necessarily horror-focused.

24XX The Deep, by Chaosmeister.

ONE DAY THE OCEANS DROWNED THE WORLD. Humanity survived below the waves. The sea birthed leviathans. Your crew owns a dingy old sub. Odd jobs, salvage, leviathan hunting and a few merc gigs keep you afloat and breathing.

24XX The Deep is a game about underwater survival and it’s also a drama. As a 24XX game, it’s only a few pages, but those pages distill the necessary parts of the game into a few things: customization for your submarine (aesthetic and mechanic), character options, and roll tables for pieces of the world, such as the factions that your crew might have to work with or work against.

The designer for this game says that 24XX The Deep isn’t necessarily meant to be a horror game, but it can still be a little creepy in tone when you consider the ways the natural underwater environment can raise the stakes for your players.

Aqua Squad, by Em.

A Tunnel Goons hack of aquatic and aquatic-adjacent adventure, created for the Saturday Morning Cartoon Jam. 

I think this might be a fairly safe bet considering it was submitted to something called the Saturday Morning Cartoon Jam! As a Tunnel Goons hack, this game is fairly simple. You follow the Submarine crew of the Cuttlefish, as they go for adventures underwater. Players pick character types, which kind of act like characters on a tv show, and fill in a few pieces of information to make those characters fit their play style.

The resolution mechanic involves rolling 2d6 and adding a relevant ability, and adding +1 for any relevant item you might have with you. You must meet or beat the difficulty score to succeed. You start with 3 items, and 10 HP. There isn’t much in terms of GM tools for adventure generation however, other than what appears to be episode title names. These titles can be evocative: you roll two words and put them together, so the GM may have an interesting time designing a “ghostly volcano” for the squad to investigate, or trying to figure out what the title “Vacation Megalodon” might mean.

Signals From The Deep, by Aaron Goss.

SIGNALS FROM THE DEEP is a tense, ocean-floor setting and scenario made using a no dice, no masters roleplaying game system Tiny Tokens.

This scenario takes you and the rest of your old, sentient, deep sea research robot team SEA-4 on a shared voyage, exploring deep sea wonders as you seek out the source of a anomalous signal detected way down at the bottom of the ocean. What awaits you in the depths?

Signals in the Deep is a mystery game, but it’s not necessarily a horror one. The game is small, meant to fit on two double-sized poker-card-sized cards. It’s easy to pick up and carry, and doesn’t have too many rules. Your core goal is to figure out the source of the signal; but what exactly that source is will be up to the GM, at least from what I can see.

Also Check Out…

Octopus Shipwreck Explorer, by SassWrites.

Bones Deep, by Technical Grimoire Games.

Odyssey Aquatica, by Old Dog Games.

My Mermaids TTRPG Recommendations.

The Sea Calls Recommendation Post.

My Coral Recommendation Post from last week.

[vintagerpg]

Is it still a knock-off if you hire one of the most iconic artists of the place you’re knocking off to do a cover for you? Larry Elmore actually did two Role Aids covers — the next featured on the first Demons box set (and I love it). Little ambivalent about this one, though it does seem to intentionally channel a lot of design work that references both Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms. Like it or not, I enjoy how the Ray Winninger era of Role Aids seems to be intentionally thumbing its nose at TSR in a way the earlier iteration was not.

Anyway, this is A Portal to Adventure (1992). It is more a toolbox for adventures rather than a formal adventure. Think the Task Force Citybooks, or TSR’s site books that would come out a little later on in the ‘90s (Castle Sites, etc). It’s a collection of NPCs, city sites, wilderness sites and an array of new magic items. I love love love books like this.

The NPCs are OK. They’re well realized, but NPCs are not what I would reach for when improvising an adventure. Maybe I have a natural affinity for whipping up NPCs on the fly? I dunno. YMMV. Likewise, the magic items are sturdy but mostly filling in logical gaps in the official D&D lists, for example: a ring of talking to animals, a staff that turns into a snake, a sword that is really good against trolls, and so on.

The sites are great, though, perfect to drop in anywhere in an ongoing game to provide material for a session or two (or more!). There’s a great derelict tower with a hidden treasure room, a pet shop with a sideline in bloodsports, a wizard’s abode in a hollowed out stalactite that hangs over an abyss. The ruined town is pretty great, too, as is the temple of bat worshipers. My favorite, though is the oracle in a broken hilltop that comes complete with a table of cryptic portents. I am going to steal a bunch of these for my game, no doubt about it.

[goldenraeofsun]

Step On It

Bruce frowns as he takes in the mess on the kitchen table. Alfred left for his annual leave in England three days ago, and the amount of clutter that has already accumulated is a little embarrassing.

Dick mostly kept his toys in his room or the family room, where he spent the most time. He kept a close eye on his things, used to living in tight quarters that could be packed up at a moment’s notice, 

Jason – Bruce forces his mind to go there – always left books on every flat surface on the Manor that would only occasionally migrate back to his room or the library.

Unlike any of his predecessors, Tim strews his things around the Manor like… like a regular teenage boy. Disposable cameras in the family room. Case files in the library. Computer parts in the parlor.

Sighing, Bruce sorts through the mess of stakeout photos, Spanish flashcards, and takeout menus for the paper invitation to Lucius’s 50th birthday. He moves yesterday’s Planet to reveal a paper folded in thirds with Gotham Academy Annual Art Showcase displayed in modern, jaunty sans-serif font. Intrigued, Bruce flips open the flier, glossing over the headings until he lands on “Photography”. Sure enough, he finds one “Timothy Drake (10)” halfway down the list of names.

Without another thought, he keys the time into his personal calendar. He’ll be a few minutes late if his 4PM runs over, but he’ll still be able to make it. Speaking of timing, Bruce should have left ten minutes ago. The table, still a mess, has to wait.

Five cups of coffee, a couple hundred emails, and approximately a thousand slides later, Bruce taps his fingers on the conference table, smiling and nodding along to whatever the hell Mr. Klein is saying. All that’s left in this presentation is the budget, which Klein has impressively dragged out to 27 minutes and counting.

The first time Bruce falls asleep, he dozes off with his eyes open, and nobody catches on but Lucius, who just exhales a silent, put-upon sigh. The second time, Bruce falls asleep five minutes after the meeting was supposed to end. He wakes, inexplicably annoyed that nobody noticed. 

Naturally, he then pretends to fall asleep, slump over in his chair, nearly fall out of said chair, and “wake up” with a loud yelp.

“Sorry,” Bruce says to the assembled department heads with a slightly manic grin. “Damn, those are some impressive numbers, aren’t they?” he says, gesturing grandly to the PowerPoint slide, now showing an org chart of the finance department. “Carry on, Keith.”

Klein grimaces. “As I was saying…”

Bruce settles back in his chair, mollified. Serves Klein right for keeping them all here past 6pm on a Friday.

A minute later, his phone chirps with a notification: 7:00 PM Gotham Academy Art Showcase.

Bruce swears under his breath. Oh right, that was today. He has a dozen more emails to send, and he needs to speak with Lucius about adding a new, extra-resistant polymer to the soles of Robin’s boots. After that, he has to drive across the entire city.

He mentally shunts half of his least-urgent emails to tomorrow’s to-do list. Lucius is in this meeting with him, so, short of pulling the fire alarm or strangling Klein with his own tie, Bruce is stuck.

* * *

Bruce officially leaves the office at 7:38. He slides into the Audi, cursing up a storm. Thank god Alfred isn’t here because he would dust off Dick’s old swear jar and just drop Bruce’s whole wallet inside.

Jaw clenched, Bruce slams his foot on the gas and flips on Oracle’s Green Light protocol. But with Gotham’s rush hour traffic, even a steady influx of green lights can’t get the overstuffed lanes of cars to move much faster.

He skids into Gotham Academy’s parking lot at 8:51. For god’s sake, the event started at almost two hours ago. This is unforgivable.

Bruce bursts through the front doors, his heart sinking as he takes in the empty welcome table. Face set, he takes the hallways at a dead sprint only to stop short in front of the closed auditorium doors. He’s too late.

Laughter off to his left catches him off guard.

A group of kids are making their way to him, their Gotham Academy ties undone and blazers slung over their arms.

“Excuse me,” Bruce says, forcing a non-threatening smile, “I’m here for the Art Showcase?”

One kid frowns up at him, and Bruce’s heart sinks. “Dude,” he says, “You’re, like, super late.”

The smile drops. Curtly, he says, “I am aware.”

“I think they’re still breaking down in the gym, though?” another kid says, the first piece of useful information Bruce has heard all day.

With a hurried, “Thank you,” he takes off in the opposite direction as he hears behind him, “Holy shit, was that Bruce Wayne?”

The showcase in the gym is indeed in the middle of being dismantled. Half the art is gone, but with the classy, black dividers blocking his view, Bruce can’t just make a beeline for the photography section. 

Around the next corner, overhears, “Just five more minutes, Tim. How about that?”

“It’s fine, Ms. Fowler,” Tim answers, his voice impatient. As Bruce stops short, ears piqued, Tim continues, “I told you, my family isn’t coming.”

Bruce’s heart clenches at the resignation in Tim’s voice. Well, Bruce can’t let that stand a moment longer. He steps around the next divider. “Sorry I’m late, chum!” he announces in a carrying voice. “Traffic from the office was sheer murder.”

Tim’s head whips around from where he’s talking in the communal Photography area with a small, middle-aged woman wearing a blazer and sensible shoes. Paint crusts in the creases of her hands, and her bright red cat’s eye glasses might as well scream art teacher.

Jaw hanging open, Tim mouths a completely silent and bewildered, “Bruce?”

“Oh, Tim!” Ms. Fowler says, sounding elated. “Look, your father is here. And just in time too!”

Bruce isn’t sure whether to first address her blatant lie that he is remotely on time or the mistaken assumption that he is Tim’s father. But before he can utter a word, Tim cuts him off, his eyes widening in alarm. “C’mon, Dad, ” he says to Bruce’s surprise, “my exhibition is back here.” He reaches out to snag Bruce by the hand, and Bruce, still beyond confused, follows.

“Take all the time you need, Tim!” Ms. Fowler calls to their retreating backs.

They enter a smaller photography nook, Tim’s photography nook. 

“Why did you call me – ” Bruce starts.

“Forget that, no time. What’s the emergency?” Tim demands in a hissed whisper. “I didn’t miss a call, did I? I was just about to pack up and head to the Cave.”

Bruce doesn’t respond at once, entranced by a picture of the ballroom immediately post-gala, the floor strewn with glitter and dropped glasses. A single table holds all the leftover bottles of champagne. The enormous room looms large and empty. A lone napkin hangs from the chandelier – no doubt Dick’s work – but it looks like a flag of surrender to the useless opulence of the elite. 

It takes a second for his brain to catch up with Tim’s words. Confused, Bruce repeats, “What emergency?”

Tim makes a face like Bruce is being the dense one. “The emergency that brought you here?”

“Your photography?”

“My photography is an emergency?” Tim asks, his frown deepening into a classic expression of teenaged offense. “You never seemed to have a problem with it before, especially when –”

Bruce holds up a hand. “That’s not what I meant.” He inhales a slow breath, trying to rein in his temper at feeling wrong-footed all evening. “There’s no emergency. I came to see your photography.”

If anything, Tim looks even more confused. “You came to - why would you -” He gives himself a little shake. “What? Why?"

“Why would I need a reason to see my kid’s photography in a prestigious art showcase they only put on once a year?” Bruce asks, eyebrows raised.

Tim’s jaw actually falls open.

“Unless… you didn’t actually want me here?” Bruce says, straightening up to his full height as his stomach drops to the floor. Tim didn’t tell him about his exhibition, after all. Maybe Bruce did find it by accident. But he has no idea why Tim would hide this from him. From all Bruce has absorbed in countless gallery openings and museum fundraisers, Tim has a decent eye. The photos are good, eye-catching and thought-provoking. And, most importantly, there’s not a single bat in sight.

“No, I was just surprised,” Tim says, his voice faint. He clears his throat. “I’m,” he swallows, “glad you came.”

“I’m glad too.” Bruce turns back to a photo, a shot of Wayne Tower at night, a full moon hovering overhead, slightly obscured by Gotham’s year-round haze of smog. “I like this one.

Tim gives himself a little shake before he says, in an undertone, “That’s kind of narcissistic, isn’t it?” His blue eyes dance with humor.

Bruce chuckles. “I didn’t hire the best renovators to make ugly buildings, Tim.”

“Yeah,” Tim smirks, “you’re not Lex Luthor.”

Bruce shakes his head in mock-sorrow. “Metropolis architecture truly has no character.”

Tim flips up the black tablecloth and hauls out an empty cardboard box. “Do you say that in front of Clark?”

Bruce nods. “Every time he calls my building ‘dark and broody’.”

“What?” Tim laughs, “That’s not a bad thing. It’s your brand!” He puts the ballroom photo in the box. 

Bruce picks up a photo of the local skatepark, the background figures blurs of motion. “I don’t know if I should be offended by that.”

Tim plucks the frame from his hands and drops it alongside the ballroom one. “C’mon, it’s not like you didn’t know.”

Bruce goes for a photo of what appears to be him, backlit by a roaring blaze in the fireplace in the parlor. 

“Not that one –” Tim starts, but it’s too late.

One hand holds a half-empty glass of whiskey. The other hand holds his head up – just barely. On his lap is a half-open book of a priceless first edition of Crime and Punishment. The last first edition he bought for Jason.

“I didn’t know you were there,” Bruce rasps out, “on the… on the anniversary.”

Tim snatches it out of his hands, his face Robin-red. “Just for a few minutes. I forgot something – I don’t remember what – but I knew you didn’t want to see me.”

Bruce exhales a slow breath. “No, that was wise.”

Tim nods jerkily, grabbing the last two photos without letting Bruce see them first. He stuffs them in the box and jams the lid down.

“You were leaving for your first meeting with the Teen Titans with Dick the day after,” Bruce says as he takes the box before Tim can get to it. “I didn’t want to spoil your good mood.”

Tim glances up at him, blue eyes wide. “Oh,” he says quietly.

Bruce taps the lid of the box. “Do you mind if we hang a few of these up in the Manor? In the family room or the library?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Good,” Bruce hefts the box higher and gestures for Tim to leave the photography nook first. “I’m glad we finally have something artistic to put up. Dick’s old spelling bee certificates really don’t have the same gravitas.”

Tim squints up at him as they leave the now-deserted gym. “Don’t you have two Rothkos?”

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “What’s your point, Tim?”

Tim ducks his head, but not before Bruce catches his pleased little smile. “Nothing, I guess.”

Thanks so much @cuephrase and @a-canceled-stamp for the amazing beta reads!

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

Stories about prophecies have always bugged me because they never adequately explain WHY the universe works the way it does, WHY specific events are inevitable. "It is your destiny," the fuck does that even mean? Says who? Which metaphysical/eldritch entity wrote this prophecy? How do they enforce it? If an Oracle says something, was it always going to be true or did they change the future? Is there only one future? Is the world deterministic?

Well, I've started thinking about it through a scientific lense. In a world where magic exists, it is simply another fundamental force of the universe. It can be studied and understood, and, most importantly, predictions can be made based off it. Before chemists discovered specific elements they'd look at where it would be on the periodic table, they'd look at all of its neighbors, and they would be able to accurately predict certain properties about it. "It'll be this color, this density, it'll have these stable isotopes, and'll form these types of bonds," etc. They aren't prophesying willy-nilly, they are making informed hypotheses.

An astronomer can give you the exact orbital periods of planets many lightyears away based on the mass of their host star; Kepler's Laws ring true no matter where you look. They can predict the exact time and location of eclipses a thousand years in advance. I don't know what a Higgs Boson is, but physicists knew it existed long before they ever actually observed it.

Prophecies are magical hypotheses. Prophets aren't just granted foreknowledge out of nowhere for shiggles, they simply observe the current state of the universe and extrapolate forward. If souls and chakras and mystical energies exist, their influences on the material world can be measured and accounted for. I don't understand quantum mechanics or general relativity, but I trust that scientists aren't just making shit up. I don't understand magic, but wizards aren't just making shit up either!

Some prophecies are wrong. Many, in fact. There are just too many variables, too many unknowns. Schrödinger's cat, Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, the Butterfly Effect, Chaos Theory, there would be magical equivalents. Meteorologists can tell you what the weather will look like tomorrow, but nobody knows what it'll be like in a month, a year, a century. They can tell you that Hurricane Season will have higher or lower activity than average based on ocean surface temperatures, the El Niño/La Niña cycle, etc., but they can't give you the exact dates of storm formation, strength, or duration.

I really like the idea of prophecies having varying degrees of certainty. Lines like "it is your destiny" or "it has been foreseen" aren't cop-outs, they're just predictions. If I drop a rock, it WILL fall towards the Earth; it's not destiny, it's gravity. Magic works the same way.

TLDR: prophecies are like election forecasts!

[babylon-crashing]

֍ The Hermit – Card IX

TITLE: The Blind Tide-Reader / 盲潮翁 (Máng Cháo Wēng)

MYTHIC ARCHETYPE: The Pirate Who Forgot His Name

TAOIST PARALLEL: Xu Fu (徐福), the alchemist sent by Qin Shi Huang to find immortality, lost at sea—merged with Zhuangzi’s Old Fisherman who knew the Way of tides.

PIRATE TWIST: He’s not just a hermit—he’s the admiral of a ghost fleet that sails in circles, forever seeking Penglai (蓬萊). His eyes were burned white by staring into the Black Tide Mirror (黑潮鏡, hēi cháo jìng) too long.

WHY THE HERMIT? He embodies wúwéi (無為) as driftwood—not seeking, but being sought by truth.

TAOIST PIRATE SYMBOLISM

KEYWORDS (Upright):

Cháo yīn (潮音, "tide-sound")—hearing wisdom in wave patterns.

The forgotten compass (忘羅盤, wàng luópán)—navigation by soul, not stars.

"Crab-script" (蟹書, xiè shū)—reading truths in sand-writing.

KEYWORDS (Reversed):

Hǎi wàng (海忘, "sea-amnesia")—lost in endless searching.

A salted tongue (鹹舌, xián shé)—wisdom that cannot be spoken.

The moonless ledger (無月賬, wú yuè zhàng)—records eaten by tides.

INTERPRETATION: This card is the lantern that blinds. The Tide-Reader’s light doesn’t guide—it reveals how lost you’ve always been.

RITUAL: THE BLACK TIDE MIRROR (黑潮鏡, Hēi Cháo Jìng)

(Inspired by Taoist dark meditation and Fujianese "shadow navigation")

PURPOSE: To confront the self by becoming the abyss.

MATERIALS:

A black lacquer bowl (or ink-darkened water).

Three pinches of ashes (from incense or burnt paper).

A single iron nail (to "anchor" the vision).

A candle (white, to extinguish).

STEPS:

At midnight, place the bowl on a low table. Stir ashes into the water.

Press the nail into the table’s edge, chanting:

将潮水钉在沙滩上，将灵魂钉在大海上—你早已失去了你所追求的东西。 Nail the tide to the beach, nail your soul to the sea – you have already lost what you seek.

Light the candle, stare into the black water until the flame’s reflection drowns.

Blow out the candle. Sit in darkness until your breath matches the tide’s pull.

PARALLEL MYTHOLOGY

TITLE: The Monk of the Abyss / The Silence That Knows

MYTHIC ARCHETYPE: The Umibōzu (Japanese Yōkai)

REGION: Japan

FORM: A massive, shadowy, humanoid spirit that rises from the depths on calm nights. Its name translates to "sea monk," as its head is large, round, and smooth like the shaven head of a Buddhist monk.

TALE: The Umibōzu is not a chatty oracle. It is a presence. It rises from a placid sea, a sudden, dark embodiment of the terrifying mystery and depth hidden just beneath the surface. It can be destructive if angered or disrespected, but its primary function in folklore is to be a figure of profound, awe-inspiring dread and mystery. To encounter the Umibōzu is to come face-to-face with the vast, unknowable soul of the ocean itself.

WHY THE HERMIT? The Hermit's journey is a descent into the self. The Umibōzu is the personification of that deep, dark, silent inner space. It represents the intimidating but necessary step of confronting the vast unknown within. The wisdom it offers isn't in words, but in the silence it commands. It forces a complete halt to the external journey, compelling the sailor (the seeker) to look into the abyss. It is the ultimate symbol of soul-searching and the profound truths found only in deep, contemplative solitude.

INTERPRETATION THROUGH THE UMIBŌZU: This card calls you to a profound retreat. It is time to turn off all external noise and face the silent, deep waters of your own consciousness. Like a sailor on a calm sea at midnight who suddenly sees the Umibōzu rise, you are being asked to stop everything and simply be with the immense mystery of your own being. It may be daunting, but the greatest wisdom you seek is not outside of you; it is waiting in your own personal abyss.

THE RITUAL OF THE DARK WATER LANTERN (For Seeking Inner Truth)

OBJECTIVE: To receive wisdom from your deepest subconscious by creating a space of absolute stillness and darkness, and listening to the silence.

MATERIALS:

A black or very dark-colored bowl.

Water.

A few drops of black ink or food coloring (optional, but effective).

One single candle (white or blue).

A room that can be made completely dark and silent.

STEPS:

CREATING THE ABYSS: In your darkened room, place the bowl before you. Fill it with water. If using ink, add a few drops until the water is an opaque, black mirror. This is the calm, midnight sea.

Lighting the Lantern: Light the single candle and place it beside the bowl. This is your Hermit's lantern, the only light in the vast darkness. Turn off all other lights.

THE DESCENT: Sit in the silence. Stare softly at the reflection of the single flame on the surface of the black water. Breathe slowly, deeply. Let the silence of the room expand until it feels like the crushing, profound silence of the deep ocean. You are the lone sailor. The black water is your soul.

THE QUESTION: Whisper a single, deep question to the water. Do not ask "what should I do?" Ask "What wisdom do I need?" or "What truth am I avoiding?" Release the question into the deep.

THE VIGIL: Now, you listen. Do not expect a booming voice. The Umibōzu does not speak. Its wisdom rises from the quiet. Let your mind go still. An answer may come as a new feeling, a single word that surfaces in your mind, a forgotten memory, or a sudden, quiet understanding. You are not looking for an answer; you are creating the silence in which the answer that is already there can finally be heard.

THE RETURN: When you feel the vigil is complete, bow your head to the bowl in gratitude. Gently blow out the candle, plunging the room into total darkness for a moment. Acknowledge the abyss. Then, turn on the lights. Immediately write down any thoughts, feelings, or words that came to you in your journal.

SYNCRETIC BRIDGE

Umibōzu’s Silence → Taoist Mòzhì (默知, "silent knowing") Both reject language for direct experience.

Black Water → Xuánmíng (玄冥, "dark profound") The primordial sea before creation in Zhuangzi.

THE "SCHOLAR'S HEART" MANDATE:

Sources: The Umibōzu is a well-known yōkai in Japanese folklore. See: Toriyama Sekien's Gazu Hyakki Yagyō and modern scholarly works on Japanese folklore, Michael Dylan Foster's The Book of Yōkai: Mysterious Creatures of Japanese Folklore. For the ritual see:《東南海龍王經》(Scripture of the Southeast Dragon Kings), 1783 (Zhenjiang Taoist Temple Archive, Jiangsu).

[kore-pythia-hayashi]

I’ll ask a very difficult question. For me. Do you know about my mother, May Castellan? How are her prophetic abilities different from yours, apart from yours being inherited from Apollo and hers being obtained from a broken piece of the Oracle? And lastly… is there any chance left for her?

Luke

[Her hands, which had been working quickly and efficiently with paper from giving it the shape of some kind of animal, stopped abruptly, Kore looked up at Luke, surprised and sympathetic. Her eyes were green, pale green like sea foam]. Of course I know. [She tilted her head to the side, her hair was pinned up in a bun at the back of her head, her thin strands, free from the tight hairstyle, looked like drops of liquid sunlight]. It's part of being an oracle to know. A lot and good, shamelessly a lot and too good.

[She drummed her fingers on the table]. I want to say that the principle of operation of our oracles is almost the same - the particles of the spirit living in us, but only my part, it is a part of myself, the one who is with me from birth and who protects me, takes care of me even if she has almost no consciousness. [She shook her head sympathetically]. But the part, vicious broken piece, that lives in your mom is a curse, a disease created to make her suffer. The curse of Hades, revenge for the death of his beloved and the persecution of his children.

[Kore looked at Luke intently But gently sympathetically]. I see both the bad and the good, and happiness and sorrow, but May.. she sees only bad things and only grief. This makes her suffer and as a protection she locks herself in her past. He closes himself in and deceives himself. But… [She walked up to him and took his chin, forcing him to look at her, her face was soft and confident]. She has a chance, she will be as happy as possible, she will recover, the curse will be lifted. it will be washed away by sea foam

[wafbvconstellation]

Oracle

Pairing: Platonic OT7

| Rating: T | WC: 2.6k | Ao3 | Masterpost | Timeline |

A/N: The first part of the WaFB ‘Verse is up!! I’m so excited to share this and I hope y'all like it too. Many thanks to my amazing beta @/sarcasticbambi<3 Keep an eye out for BTS-related references; you never know what might be a clue or easter egg😉

CW: war, minor character death (offscreen), grief

1398 B.E.

Kragos soared over the army of the Mad Maje’s followers, releasing a cloud of flame. Screams and yelled wards did nothing to deter his searing breath as he burned through hundreds of majes, turning the far side of the battlefield into ashes.

He swooped towards his allies’ side, picking off the few remaining majes who thought they could hide from his eyes with spells and natural camouflage.

Didn’t they know dragons were the apex predators, the closest to nature’s majick, the toughest and hardest to kill? That the majes’ hasty spells would do nothing for them, not when his side had previously drawn most of the majick to their side and disturbed the natural flow?

He almost pitied the now-piles of ash, but they had chosen their side. The Mad Maje was certainly charismatic, he’d give her that, but she was also driven insane by her need for power and immortality. He couldn’t understand how she’d amassed such an army of fanatical majes.

They had given the remaining majes and majikal beings a bad name.

Kragos touched down behind his side’s line and shifted. 

Erbus met him, his lower jaw bloody and his leather armour worn. “We’re ready for the final attack.”

Kragos nodded and strode over to the Commanders’ tent where the remaining members of the Organization were gathered. He ducked under the flap and unrolled the fabric to block out the misty cool and unwelcome ears. The Organization’s only maje mamber, Hess, drew some wards to stop any outside spying, and the leader, Talum, began their meeting.

This final surge had been planned for months as the Organization carefully strategized and spied on the Mad Maje’s forces.

Now it was time to put it into action, and they wished fervently that all would go as planned.

The final battle was bloody and brutal. Kragos walked slowly back into the Organization’s camp, exhausted. The Mad Maje had put up a good fight, taking out his brother-in-arms, Beom. His brothers, Orus and Erbus, were bringing his body back for a hero’s burial rites. Kragos sighed and slumped into a wooden chair by the round table. Humans, even ones with majikal bloodlines, were so fragile. At least Beom had died knowing they had won.

The pants and noise of the remaining members of the Organization alerted him to their return.

“Erbus, Orus, I’m so sorry,” Ryl sobbed. “I should have stopped him, he is always the most hot-headed of us,” she wept.

Hess came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders. “It’s not your fault, Ryl, it’s hers. She is the one who killed him, not you.”

Kragos watched the scenes of his grieving friends as if they were a stranger’s majik memory manipulations playing out in front of him.

He didn’t even realize he was moving until Curi’s hand met his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Are any of us okay?” he demanded, turning away and shifting, spreading his leathery wings and heading towards the Mad Maje’s camp.

The cool air and tiny drops of rain hitting his scales did nothing to quench the burning rage flooding his insides. He was a Hahm dragon, after all.

He dropped with a heavy thud in front of the scene of the final battle. Majik scorch marks radiated from the statue of the Mad Maje, where she was frozen in suspension for ages to come.

Kragos’s green lizard-like eyes narrowed as he inspected the defeated maje. She had amassed enough majik and sacrificed enough lives to block their attack and twist the spell into one that simply turned her to stone for a finite time, instead of an immobilizing and majik-stripping spell like they had intended.

For all their planning for the unexpected, too much had gone wrong. Beom had died, hit by one of the Mad Maje’s spells as he attacked with his human sword and strength. The Mad Maje had not been dealt with permanently, though she would be no issue for centuries to come. That spell had been anchored to a protective spell, which prevented them from destroying her statutized self. 

“It will work, hyung. It has to, even if it means one of us must die,” said Beom. 

“None of us will die today,” Kragos turned abruptly away from the human member of the Organization. “The only one dying will be her. Get that thought out of your head. Dwelling on such thoughts will only drag you down in battle.” He turned back to his plans spread across the table.

“She has more power than one maje should, hyung. We’ve been planning for every eventuality except one of us dying.”

“Because that will not happen, Beom!”

Dymi, the third human to join the Organization, entered the tent as Kragos slammed his hands on the table.

“What’s…going on?”

“Beom is telling me we need to plan for our deaths,” he gritted out.

Beom’s warm brown eyes filled with frustration. “That is not what I was saying.” He turned to Dymi. “I was saying that we should be prepared for the possibility of one of us dying. If we are frozen by shock or grief, the other side will have an advantage over us. We need to be able to move forward with the plan anyways.”

“That will not be necessary, because none of us will die today!” Kragos reiterated stubbornly. 

Beom subsided, knowing when he got that taut jaw, it was useless to say anything more, but he let his disappointed aura speak for itself.

With a roar of frustration, Kragos released all his rage and grief in a wall of flame, surrounding the statue and blackening it and sizzling the few green things that had survived the battle.

Even after years of training and preparation and fighting, their win was still a loss.

“I’m sorry, Beom-ah. I failed all of us.” He shifted, dropping to his knees in the muddy field.

The orange and purple-pink light of the sunset touched his face in a mimicry of human warmth, reflecting off the diamond tears streaking his face.

The Organization would never be ten again, only nine. It would never be ‘the Organization’ again, only ‘the remaining members of the Organization’.

~~~☆~~~

Two Weeks after the War

Two weeks after the Maje War was proclaimed officially over, the Mad Maje’s statue was taken into custody by the Bangtan Empire and locked up, kept under majes’ watchful eyes in case the statue’s spells wore off faster than predicted.

The Organization split to their respective species’ haunts for a well-deserved break. They took their lines from the Oracle as a memento and left, too burnt out and broken to even attempt to stay together.

While the humans and unaffiliated majikal beings were relieved and grateful for the Organization’s success in ending the war and disarming the Mad Maje, they questioned why she wasn’t gone for real, when was she predicted to be back, how they could prepare for that eventuality, why the Organization wasn’t staying together; the questions and veiled criticisms went on. 

Travelling to a quiet, peaceful place untouched by the war and living there incognito served the remaining members of the Organization well.

~~~☆~~~

1408 B.E.

Majes and Majikal beings had been steadily persecuted for being Other, with humans in particular terrified that one of the creatures that surrounded them everyday were a supporter of the Mad Maje or were planning on becoming the second power-hungry dictating maje.

Though the Empire’s rulers and the heads of the Empire’s combined lands were not passing any laws or restrictions against the Majikal community, many of its members were heading to the less-populated sections of the land or leaving the Empire for one of its neighbours, which had been affected much less than Bangtan by the war.

More and more humans were afraid of any majik, even though many majes lived among them normally and used their abilities for good for humans and majes alike.

~~~☆~~~

2011 B.E.

“Who was Ilena Bulmyeol?” The teacher slapped a stapled stack of papers down on every student’s desk.

A girl eagerly raised her hand.

“Yes, Areum.”

“Ilena Bulmyeol was also known as the Mad Maje, the leader of the Opposition’s Forces in the Maje War.”

“Very good. This week we will be studying the Maje War.”

The teacher returned to his lectern and cleared his throat. 

“The Maje War occurred from 1393 to 1398 B.E. The main forces were the Opposition, led by the Mad Maje Ilena Bulmyeol, and the Organization, led by Talum Yojeong. Does anyone know how many members there were in the Organization’s head forces?”

A boy raised his hand. “There were 10 members in the Organization’s head forces: Talum Yojeong, Kragos Yong, Orus Jabjong, Erbus Jabjong, Curi Neugdae, Hess Masulsa, Beom Jabjong, Covi Ingan, Ryl Jeontugi, and Dymi Jidoja.”

“Very good, Jeongguk, I see you were reading ahead. Yes, those 10 were members of the Organization’s head forces. They were gathered as an answer to an oracle, which foretold them defeating the Mad Maje. Unfortunately, the oracle in its specifics has been lost to time. It is rumoured to have been destroyed by the Organization’s members, but that is only speculation. Historians have only found a few lines. Their best guess of reconstructing what they uncovered is on page 316. Please turn there now.”

The rustling sound of leaves in books turning filled the private schooling room.

“Minjun, why don’t you read what it says for us.”

The boy stood and read from his book carefully. “Brothers by blood are only three; all seven bound by loyalty, tested, will make [them] strong.”

“Thank you. Now, these lines have kept many historians busy for ages, trying to decipher their meaning and where they would fit in with the complete oracle. As the Organization’s members were from many backgrounds, the lines have been scattered around the Empire, and possibly even beyond it. Can anyone tell me each member’s background?”

Areum’s arm shot up again.

“The Jabjong brothers were the sons of a vampire and a mer, but Beom was born technically human by some genetic happening. Talum Yojeong was fae, Kragos Yong was a dragon, Curi Neugdae was a beta werewolf, and Hess Masulsa was a maje. Ryl Jeontugi and Dymi Jidoja were humans, as well.”

“Very good. As you can see, there is a large diversity among the members. Now, many of these Majikal Beings are more rare and we know less about them, but it is curious to think about how they would have worked together. One thing is for sure: they must have had a very strong friendship. It’s commonly thought that Ryl and Talum were in a romantic relationship, but with the Organization scattered after the War and their wish to stay incognito, nothing is confirmed. Now, about the sides of the war…”

~~~☆~~~

CHAMESH 1ST, 2011

BREAKING NEWS: BANGTAN EMPIRE ATTACKED BY TOOPEEHM KINGDOM

CHAMESH 2ND,  2011

BREAKING NEWS: BANGTAN AT WAR WITH TOOPEEHM

~~~☆~~~

“It’s for your safety, honey.”

“I know, but I want to stay here with you. It’s my place!”

“Jeongguk, your place is to stay safe, so we don’t have to worry for your safety and well-being and we can focus on the war.” His mother hugged him tightly. “Your hyungs will take good care of you. Be good, and don’t worry about us, okay? We’ll be fine. We love you.”

“I love you.” He hugged her back tightly. “Don’t worry about me; I’ll be good.”

Jeongguk arrived at Bomnal Palace in the Kim Realms and was greeted by Queen Mishil. She led him to the sitting room where her sons were hanging out with their friends, the Empire’s other princes.

Six pairs of eyes met his large ones as he took in the room and its occupants.

“Hi, Jeongguk, right?” A tall, handsome young man came over to meet him warmly. “I’m Seokjin, but you can call me Jin like the others do.”

Jeongguk nodded. 

“Okay.”

“We haven’t seen you much;  it’s usually Junghyun with the Emperor and Empress,” said a boy, smiling widely at him and waving. “But Junghyun hyung talks about you a lot.”

“He’s told me about all of you too,” said Jeongguk, smiling shyly.

“I’ll let you boys take care of Jeongguk then, while I make arrangements for you all,” said the queen, and left with a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

~~~☆~~~

Arbah 34th, 2013

TOOPEEHM’S WAR WITH BANGTAN EMPIRE DRAGS ON THROUGH SECOND YEAR

Shesh 7th, 2013

BREAKING NEWS: THE MAD MAJE RETURNS ON TOOPEEHM’S SIDE IN EHM-TAN’S WAR

~~~☆~~~

“I’m back!”

“How’d school go?” Jin appeared from the direction of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron. 

“It was fine,” Jungkook shrugged. “Lots of homework, even for the first day.”

“Let us know if you need help,” called Yoongi from the office/study area.

“Thanks, hyung!” he called back, following Jin to the snack he knew the oldest had prepared for him.

Hoseok and Jimin were talking quietly by the island. “With the added help from the Mad Maje’s forces, who knows how much longer this will drag on for. The first Maje War was five years long, and it’s already been two years-”

“DO YOU WANT TO TRY MY NEW CRACKERS RECIPE OR THE BROWNIES, JUNGKOOKIE?” asked Jin, loudly announcing their presence and shutting up the other two.

“Both, obviously,” grinned Jungkook. 

They weren’t subtle, but they loved him and had readily adopted him as their little brother, doing their best to shield him from the news of the war and the unease it brought and raise him to be a good prince, and more importantly, a good person, like his parents wanted.

He had only been able to see them and Junghyun a couple times since he was sent away; all the princes of the Empire had moved to the highest-protected city in the Empire, the Jeon Kingdom’s capital, Bangtandosi, shortened by its natives to ‘Bangtan’ or ‘Tan’.

They lived in a large stone house in the old district, close to Bangtan University where the older princes attended, and a five-minute walk from Jungkook’s high school.

Visits with any of their family members were few and far between, with the war taking up most of the royals’ time and attention, and the need to keep the heirs to the Empire’s location secret.

They seven of them had consequently created a bond closer than just brothers as they adjusted to life as civilians in the middle of wartime. They would do anything for each other, no questions asked.

~~~☆~~~

Sheva 28th, 2018

“Don’t forget your lunch!” Jin yelled after Jungkook, who sped past him up the stairs to his room.

“I won’t, Eomma!” sassed the maknae as he continued running around gathering his last-minute items for his first day at Bangtan U. 

“Yah, you brat!” Jin whipped his towel at Jungkook’s behind when he ran by again. “I make you a good lunch with love that everybody will be jealous of and you call me a mother?! Come back here!-”

Jungkook giggled and slid by in his socks, snagging his lunchbox from the counter as he flew by.

The other members of the house had gathered by the door to wish him off to his classes, or at least the ones who had graduated already.

Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon had attended Bangtan U and graduated well in the years since they had moved to Bangtandosi, and Jimin and Taehyung, who would be accompanying Jungkook to campus, were in their third year of classes.

“Have fun, Jungkook-ah!”

“Good luck!”

“Tell us all about it when you’re home!”

The hyungs waved the maknaes off. 

“Our little Kookie is all grown up,” sniffed Jin.

“Are you crying?” asked Hobi.

“No, it’s just the onions I chopped for Jungkook’s gyeran mari!”

☆ fin ☆

Taglist: @/otome-wandering @bangtanwritershq

[numericalbridge]

Title: Shards

Fandom: The Owl House

Rating: G

Word count: 2967

Characters: Darius, Odalia, Alador, the previous Golden Guard (Luca)

Summary:

My take on the friendship break-up between Darius and his friends.

*

He whirled around, his new cloak billowing in a swoosh of fabric. And in the mirror his reflection whirled around, colours bright. Neat. Darius stopped and stroked a gallant pose, just like he’d seen his grandpa do in the old Crystal Ball recordings. Almost right. But for the play he’d need to be even more dramatic.

“Like Flexor the Brave, the hero of Ulna...”

“You mean the loser who threw away his life in that one battle?”

The voice nearly made Darius jump.

“Odalia!”

She stood in the doorway of the prop room, arms crossed, looking smug. “If you ask me, it was a pity his family had to suffer because of him. What a waste of magical talent,” she sighed.

“Do you need to be such a cynic?” He wanted to show off his costume, but he doubted she would appreciate it.

“A cynic?” She put her hand over her heart. “I just payed attention during the class.”

She strolled into the room, and a moment later Alador trudged in after her. He looked kind of uneasy, Darius noticed when they did their special handshake. Odalia raised an eyebrow at the prop swords that gathered dust in the corner, “And here you are, playing pretend in this filthy room like a kid.”

“It’s called acting, Odalia,” Darius scoffed. “You can pretend to be sooo grown up and like everything is beneath you, but guess who got the lead role? I did.”

“Sure. Anyway...” she crossed her arms again, then uncrossed them. “We…” she shot a pointed look at Alador, who had wondered over to the other side of the room, “wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Really? Is this about your future wedding?” he winked at her.

“Darius, please,” she blushed deep crimson. “I swear, you’ve been so unusually childish lately! This is a serious conversation. And I mean it!”

Wow, forceful. For a moment she sounded almost like her grandmother.

Darius looked questioningly at Alador, who squirmed, but nodded and then turned away to inspect some carvings on a small worktable. Strange.

“Alright then, what’s the matter?” Darius relented. He put his hand on his hip, checked the reflection in the mirror. The pose was sufficiently graceful and unbothered. But he just wanted to try on his costume and rehearse the role, and then he wanted to play abomination battles with Alador. He barely had time for anything since his training with Luca had started! Sometimes he even had to skip his walks with grandpa. But Luca would say that avoiding a serious conversation with his friends was immature.

“This is about the Golden Guard,” Odalia's voice was terse.

“Luca?” Why would she bring him up?

“Yes, this Luca... You’re always busy training with him, talking about him, how great he is…” She rolled her eyes. Was she... jealous? So weird. “You even missed my Oracle Convention,” she continued.

“And you never have time for our abomination battles anymore!” Alador chimed in. He created a small shaggy-looking abomination and made it run circles on the table.

“I… Well, OK, I’m sorry,” he supposed he could see why his friends were unhappy, even if he always warned them that he would be busy. It isn’t Luca’s fault, though. “I won’t miss your Convention next time, I swear! And I’ll find time for our battles too.” He pointed a finger and created a small crew of little guys to chase Alador’s abomination. “This whole thing with the mentorship is just a rare opportunity to see by myself how the Emperor's Coven works, Luca says. But I won’t miss another time when you need me to cheer for you…”

“Yeah, there might not be another time,” Odalia interrupted him.

What? That came out of nowhere… Is she… Darius’s stomach dropped.

“Are you, like, fatally ill?!” he blurted out. This can’t be real!

“What? No!” she sputtered. “Of course not!” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tease me like this, Deamonne,” she sounded like her grandmother again. “I am thinking about what is best for you here, even if it’s unpleasant to hear.”

“Alright, alright, sorry!” I really thought… his ears burned. “I’m glad you’re OK.” The embarrassment was going to eat him alive.

“And you know what is not good for you? That Golden Guard!” She caught Alador, who was clearly trying to sneak out of the room, by the elbow. “Everyone knows it!”

What?

“My aunt mentioned it too,” Alador whispered.

“What are you two talking about?” Darius clenched his fists. They were surely annoying him on purpose! “Stop being so vague and just explain!”

“We are telling you! My parents, my uncles, Alador’s family – they all say that the Golden Guard has fallen out of the Emperor’s favour, and everyone with connections to the Castle knows it. They say he has angered the Emperor, and his position within the Covens is extremely perilous.”

Was that true? She wouldn’t lie like that, of course, but did Luca know? He promised to show me his favourite fishing spot, he looked happy… Darius’s hand gripped the hem of his cloak. Did he miss the signs of his mentor’s troubles? Just like that, so caught up in the excitement and the novelty of the mentorship...

“If, if it’s true, then we need to warn him!”

“Oh, I bet he knows,” Odalia suddenly leaned in and touched him on the shoulder. “He displeases the Emperor constantly, so he probably doesn’t care, thinks he is irreplaceable. Or... or maybe he believes he is stronger than the Emperor. Won’t surprise me if he thinks himself invincible, that brute...”

“Don’t call him that!” Darius swatted her hand away. How dare she? She liked to tease and was at times judgmental, but not like this! He looked over at Alador for help. His best friend since preschool. Alador was staring at the abominations, mouth downturned like he was solving a difficult equation.

“Luca is smart, and he cares,” Darius insisted. “And all you do is repeat some stupid gossip!”

Odalia groaned. “Listen! This is serious. When he falls, he’ll take you down with him.”

Darius shook his head. Luca would have a plan... Would he? He insists he is a humble soldier, not a politician… Darius’s hand found the side of his cloak again. The fabric was rough to the touch.

“And, maybe it’s just a gossip for now, and maybe he does care,” Odalia shrugged. So confident, even smug. But her speech was getting faster. “Or maybe he won’t hesitate to throw some high schooler under the falling blimp! He is the Emperor's Coven personified, they say, and everyone in the Emperor's Coven is cut-throat.”

“You don’t know him!” Why can’t she just leave him be?

“Well, even if not, he is a danger – to you, and your future career, even to your family’s prosperity! Do you understand, Darius?” she grabbed his shoulders again. “You have to cut your ties with him, until it’s too late!” She shook him. The nerve!

“Ah, stop this, just stop!” He freed himself from her grasp. “He’s my mentor, I can’t just abandon him!”

“And I am your friend!” Her voice became shrill, “Please, I don’t want to… My father was talking about you too.” Her mouth trembled, “You’ve changed, Darius. First you endanger yourself with that transformation-into-abomination nonsense... and I bet your Luca encourages it! It’s like you’re self-destructive or something. Even my parents noticed. So stop all this nonsense, right now! Please, I don’t want to…”

Darius twisted the fabric of his – prop, fake – cloak. “You don’t want to do what, Odalia?” he whispered.

“Well,” she blinked like she was going to cry, “well, my parents say you can’t help someone who won’t help themselves. Soon they will start talking about forbidding me to hang out with you!” she stomped her foot for emphasis. “And I don’t want to…”

Twisting and twisting. This feels so weird.

“But will you?” His temples were pulsing with sudden pain. “Will you just stop being friends with me if they order you?” What was this sinking feeling he was experiencing? “Like I’m nothing to you? Eh?”

“I am your friend,” she insisted. She pointed at Alador, who still stood with his head down, “We are friends! But do you want to drag us into your mess? All because of him?”

“Answer me!” The abominations jumped up and liquefied. Alador flinched.

“If you insist on endangering our future and the success of our families, then perhaps I will.” She jutted her chin out. “If you don’t care about us anyway!”

No crying.

His lips curled into an unpleasant grimace, “You do look just like your dear old grandmother right now.”

She sputtered like an angry cat. Ha, didn’t expect that!

“How dare… well, you know,” she collected herself, “at least she cares about her family’s legacy. You just want to throw it aaall away, like one of those ‘heroes’ from your play pretends.” Odalia shook her head. “But I don’t know what I expected. You were always weird, treating your abominations like pets and clinging to your grandfather like a baby. Bet you’ll be lucky not to get petrified!”

“Well, then,” his voice broke only a little, “maybe then I’ll spare you the trouble and cut ties with you right now!”

She recoiled, shocked. Then she remembered herself.

“Fine, fine,” her smile was a tad too forced. “When you have no future, and you are broke, don’t come begging for my... for our... help,” she hissed.

Darius didn’t grace her with a response.

“Come on, Alador, he’ll regret it!” Odalia turned, and, heels clacking, stormed out of the room.

And good riddance! A wave of abomination hit the wall. Splat! Darius’s anger suddenly dissipated, and he felt exhausted. Purple goo dribbled down the mirror.

Ugh. At this rate he would need to take anti-headache potions like some elderly witch. And what will grandpa think about all of this? Everything is changing so fast... In the dirty mirror the boy drooped his shoulders.

Darius felt sad, and he was anxious about Luca too. Luca was strong and very serious, but he always cared. He wanted to help, even when Darius acted out in frustration. It would be unthinkable to betray him. Of course, Darius wouldn’t know how to explain it to Odalia. She would call me childish again. She just can’t see… More and more she was absorbing her family’s attitudes.

Well, when – if – Odalia calls him, he won’t even answer. Fine by him, if she would just do whatever her parents ordered her to do!

A movement startled him.

Alador froze, his hand near Darius’s shoulder. “Sorry. Odalia didn’t mean it about petrification, I’m sure. And she doesn’t really want to stop being friends with you.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Darius twisted the fabric of the cloak. Fake, just so fake... “But you know that she will, if they tell her.”

Alador looked at him reproachfully. “Still, you shouldn’t have, ugh, insulted her either. Comparing her to old Mrs Blight was too much.”

“Then she shouldn’t act like that.”

“Why are the two of you always so difficult,” Alador muttered under his breath.

“She’s acting like her family put an earwig spell into her brain or something,” Darius summoned a handkerchief to wipe the mirror. “She will stand by them whether they are right or not, and they can’t be right about Luca! You should talk to her later – you are closer, maybe you can talk some sense into her…”

“My family talks about the Golden Guard too.”

Just stop.

Alador sounded like he was reading the news on the Crystal Ball, “Being close to him has the potential to be dangerous.”

“Oh, come on, Al! You were with us during the trip to the Knee. You actually know him. I can’t betray him!”

“I... well... Still, I think maybe Odalia is right. And he isn’t the only way to get those Coven connections...” Alador wasn’t looking in his direction. “I don’t want to stop being friends with either of you.”

“What?” Darius felt like his throat was constricting. Like he couldn’t breathe. Friends since they were six. “Not everything is about your Titan-damned connections...”

He didn’t even shout, but Alador took a step back. Coward.

“You… is this whole mentorship thing really so important to you? If you won’t stop... being like this, Odalia will be angry with me too! And my parents might also see this situation as a problem. They’ll stop liking you! Maybe you’re right about the Golden Guard, but it’s not like he is your family or anything!”

Why does this feel so heavy? Why is everything happening so quickly?

Alador lifted up his hands, as if to plead with him, “Ah, I’m not explaining it right... All this is so much trouble!”

“And you can’t be bothered, right?” Darius wondered. “Too much distraction from your precious studies...”

“Come on, Darius! You should just make up with Odalia and stop the mentorship thing, at least until it’s safe again! Then everything will be just like before,” Alador bobbed his head up and down, like it was so simple.

“What a smart plan,” Darius sneered. The abomination matter around the room was bubbling, and his temples were throbbing.

“Yes!” It was Alador’s turn to stomp his foot. “I just don’t like trouble between my best friends! It’s simple!”

“You don’t even have your own opinion on Luca and whether he is dangerous,” Darius shook his head. Heavy. He still wasn’t crying. “You just want to stay in your little safe bubble like a coward... No trouble for Alador! And I know you won’t break up with Odalia if she cuts ties with me. Admit it! If I were in Luca’s place you would’ve already abandoned me… You are worse than her!”

The abomination matter boiled up and erupted into whirling columns all around the room, scattering the props around. The mirror cracked.

“Please, why are you so mad…”

Why? Well, Odalia was a heartless bitch poisoned by her family, and Alador was a spineless hack with no opinions of his own! Why should he care about them?

Darius darted towards the exit, and when Alador tried to grab him, shoved him away.

“Don’t touch me ever again!” Darius spat. More like sobbed.

“Fine then! Run! Odalia is right about you and your... theatrics!” Alador tried to shove him back. No matter. Darius ran.

He wanted to go back and punch Alador, but he wasn’t crying. He wasn’t acting immaturely! They wanted him to just abandon Luca… It hurt.

He ran out of the school building, tore the – stupid, childish, fake – cloak off and threw it to the ground.

It hurts.

*

Luca found him an hour later at the back of the school grounds, hunched down under the char tree, head in hands. The Golden Guard watched in silence, until Darius reluctantly raised his head.

“Bad day?”

Darius sighed. He didn’t feel so angry anymore. Odalia’s betrayal didn’t seem real now, yet – unlike their previous spats – he couldn’t imagine simply making up with her next day. And Alador… oh, that Alador... Darius’s head still hurt.

“It’s nothing… just my stupid so-called friends,” he muttered.

Luca sat down beside him. “Alador and Odalia?”

Darius nodded, “She can be so stubborn and forceful, but he… he just follows her around, always choosing what will trouble him less so he can quickly return to his abominations. I don’t know... we were friends for so long, but it’s like we are from different worlds…” Like they were always ready to throw me away.

“Then, do you want to try and reach out to other kids? Find new friends?” there was an uncertainty in Luca’s voice.

Darius couldn’t help but snort, “I don’t think it’s that simple. Sorry.”

As if those other kids won’t be the same.

“Oh, was it bad advice?” Luca wondered. “I am not very familiar with, um...”

“Teenager drama?” Darius rolled his eyes. “I know, I know it’s stupid...”

They wanted him to betray Luca…

But was Luca really in danger? And what does it mean? Would he simply be dismissed from his Guard position, and then they’d still be able to train together? “Or he just won’t care about you anymore,” Odalia’s voice offered smugly. Darius dismissed it. He wanted to question Luca, but he didn’t dare – Luca always evaded any talk about his relationship with the Emperor and the Emperor's Coven. He isn't your peer like Al and Odalia.

“Darius?”

Ah, yes, friends...

“I don’t know,” he said bitterly. “We had fights before, but now it seemed deeper, somehow. I just don’t know…”

Luca reached out and hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder, “And it’s scary?”

“I.. guess,” Darius admitted. They made me feel small and useless...

Luca patted him on a shoulder in an almost gentle manner. “It’s alright. You don’t have to find the answer immediately. Talk to your grandfather, he can probably give you better advice,” Luca smiled ruefully. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. And whether you want to mend your friendship with them or not, I’ll support you.”

“Thanks,” Darius replied weakly. Luca was really trying.

He always cares.

“I’ll stand by you too, no matter what! I swear!”

“Oh,” Luca barked a laugh. “I appreciate the sentiment, but it is my job to keep you safe, you know. Not the other way around.”

Darius blinked. Luca was in a rare sentimental mood. Or you look that terrible. But it sounded nice. Safe.

“It’s getting late,” Luca got up to his feet. “You should go home before your grandfather gets worried. I'll move our training to another day.”

Darius was tired. He hesitated. "Can you walk with me to the town?" I just don't want to be alone.

Luca nodded. "Of course," his voice was almost soft.

Safe.

[uswanth123]

ORACLE APEX 2022

Oracle APEX 2022: Unlocking the Power of Low-Code Development

Oracle APEX (Application Express) has been a leading force in low-code development platforms. Version 2022 brought a host of exciting features and advancements, solidifying APEX’s position as a robust solution for building enterprise-grade web applications with minimal coding effort. Let’s delve into the key highlights of Oracle APEX 2022.

Major Enhancements in Oracle APEX 2022

Progressive Web Apps (PWAs): APEX 2022 significantly improved its capabilities to create PWAs. PWAs offer an app-like experience on the web, complete with offline functionality, installability on mobile devices, and push notifications. This enhancement enables developers to build web applications that feel just like native mobile apps.

Faceted Search: Faceted Search, a powerful search paradigm, has been refined in APEX 2022 for a more intuitive user experience. Users can filter search results based on multiple criteria, allowing them to narrow down large datasets quickly and efficiently.

Approvals Component: Streamline business process automation with the new Approvals Component. It simplifies the creation of approval workflows within APEX applications, making it easy to manage tasks that require authorization or validation.

Updated Redwood Theme: APEX 2022 features a refreshed, modern look for its popular Redwood Light Theme, ensuring that your apps retain a contemporary aesthetic.

Data Generator: The Data Generator has been enhanced, allowing you to set sequences for columns and tables, rename blueprints, and benefit from improved help text for more efficient sample data generation.

Why Choose Oracle APEX?

Oracle APEX offers numerous benefits as a development platform:

Rapid Development:  Focus on core business logic instead of basic coding tasks. APEX’s visual interface and pre-built components accelerate the development process.

Cross-Platform Compatibility: Applications built with APEX work seamlessly across various browsers, operating systems, and device types.

Security: Built on top of Oracle Database, APEX applications inherit robust security features, safeguarding your applications and data.

Cost-Effectiveness: Depending on your Oracle licensing situation, APEX may be included, making it a cost-effective way to develop sophisticated applications.

Getting Started with APEX

Oracle offers several ways to experience APEX:

Oracle APEX Service: APEX is available as a cloud-based service for a quick and easy start.

Oracle Autonomous Database: Leverage the Autonomous Database service, which includes APEX by default.

On-premises installation: Install and manage APEX on your own infrastructure.

The Future and Beyond

Oracle APEX is constantly evolving. The roadmap indicates a focus on AI-assisted development, enhanced reporting/analytics, and closer integration with developer lifecycle tooling. These advancements promise to make building applications with APEX even easier and more powerful.

Conclusion

Oracle APEX 2022 empowers developers to build modern web applications faster and better. If you are looking for a low-code platform that delivers speed, scalability, security, and exceptional user experiences, Oracle APEX is a solution worth considering.

You can find more information about  Oracle Apex in this  Oracle Apex Link

Conclusion:

Unogeeks is the No.1 IT Training Institute for Oracle Apex  Training. Anyone Disagree? Please drop in a comment

You can check out our other latest blogs on  Oracle Apex here – Oarcle Apex Blogs

You can check out our Best In Class Oracle Apex Details here – Oracle Apex Training

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ORACLE APEX 21.2

Oracle APEX 21.2: Building Modern Web Apps Made Easier

Oracle Application Express (APEX) is a low-code development framework that lets you create enterprise-grade web applications quickly and with minimal hassle. Its latest iteration, APEX 21.2, has brought a host of exciting new features and enhancements to the table. Let’s dive into the key improvements that make APEX 21.2 a force to be reckoned with.

Performance, Performance, Performance

Smooth and speedy applications are crucial for excellent user experience. APEX 21.2 delivers in this aspect with significant changes that speed up page rendering and reduce UI flickering. This means your applications will feel snappier and far more responsive.

Enhanced Components, Elevated Development

Faceted Search Upgrade: The Faceted Search component, perfect for building filtering interfaces, is now even better. It supports refresh actions through dynamic actions, letting you update search results effortlessly.

Popup LOVs Get Smart: Setting values in Popup List of Values (LOVs) automatically populates the corresponding display values, streamlining your development process.

New Date Picker Options: Take control of when your date picker appears for a refined user experience using the new ‘Show On’ attribute.

REST Services Made More Convenient

Catalogs Across Apps: Share REST Service Catalogs within a workspace, letting multiple applications leverage the same data sources.

Simple Updates: Refresh your catalogs easily by pointing them to a URL of an exported catalog file.

Pagination Support: Finally, you can implement pagination in APEX components for REST data sources, managing large datasets efficiently.

Data Packager: Your Migration Companion

Effortlessly move your APEX applications between instances. The Data Packager lets you include table data during your export, simplifying development and test environment setup.

And That’s Not All

APEX 21.2 encompasses far more features and updates than we can cover in a single blog. Here are a few additional noteworthy ones:

Customization Power: Control the placement of individual page components with greater precision.

Translation Support Expanded: Your apps will reach a wider audience with the addition of support for 31 languages.

Security First: APEX continues to prioritize security refinements and advancements with each release.

Get with the Upgrade

Oracle APEX 21.2 brings a powerful toolbox to build sophisticated, scalable web apps with remarkable ease. If you are an existing APEX user, the upgrade is a no-brainer. And for anyone looking to embark on web development, APEX’s low-code approach makes it a compelling choice.

You can find more information about  Oracle Apex in this  Oracle Apex Link

Conclusion:

Unogeeks is the No.1 IT Training Institute for Oracle Apex  Training. Anyone Disagree? Please drop in a comment

You can check out our other latest blogs on  Oracle Apex here – Oarcle Apex Blogs

You can check out our Best In Class Oracle Apex Details here – Oracle Apex Training

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[uswanth-123]

SAP Basis Consulting Services

SAP Basis Consulting Services: The Key to Smooth SAP Operations

In the world of complex Enterprise Resource Planning (ERP) systems, SAP reigns supreme. However, even the most powerful software solutions require expert management to ensure optimal performance and seamless operations. This is where SAP Basis consulting comes into play.

So, What is SAP Basis?

SAP Basis is the technical foundation of all SAP applications. It’s a middleware layer comprising tools and components responsible for the administration, configuration, and smooth functioning of your SAP environment. Key areas covered by SAP Basis include:

System Administration: Installation, configuration, and patching of SAP systems

Performance Monitoring and Optimization: Ensuring applications run efficiently and identifying bottlenecks

Database Management: Administration and maintenance of SAP-supported databases (HANA, Oracle, DB2, etc.)

Security: Implementing security protocols, user management, and protecting your SAP landscape

Transport Management: Moving development work and configurations between SAP environments

Backup and Recovery: Safeguarding your data and critical SAP systems

Why Do You Need SAP Basis Consulting Services?

SAP Basis consultants are highly specialized professionals with deep expertise in the intricacies of the SAP Basis environment. Here’s why their services are essential:

Specialized Expertise: SAP Basis requires in-depth knowledge that can be challenging to maintain in-house. Consultants bring this experience to the table.

Proactive Problem Solving: Skilled consultants identify and resolve potential issues before they escalate into major disruptions.

Best Practices Implementation: They align your SAP landscape with industry-standard approaches, maximizing efficiency and avoiding pitfalls.

Scalability and Flexibility: Consultants offer on-demand support to handle upgrades, migrations, or increased workload.

Optimized Performance: Consistent monitoring and tuning of your SAP system ensure optimal user experiences.

What Do SAP Basis Consulting Services Typically Cover?

Implementation and Planning: Installation, configuration, and design of your SAP environment for maximum effectiveness.

Health Checks and Assessments: In-depth analysis of your system for potential vulnerabilities, optimization opportunities, and compliance checks.

Migrations and Upgrades: Handling complex SAP version upgrades or system migrations while minimizing disruption

Performance Tuning: Troubleshooting performance issues, identifying bottlenecks, and ensuring optimal user experiences.

Troubleshooting: Swift and skillful resolution of technical problems within your SAP systems.

Disaster Recovery Planning: Development of robust backup and recovery processes to maintain business continuity in the face of unexpected events.

Choosing the Right SAP Basis Consulting Partner

Experience: Select a partner with a proven track record and demonstrated success in your industry sector.

Certifications: Look for SAP certifications as they guarantee the consultants’ skills and expertise.

Methodology: Ensure a clear, organized approach for handling your SAP environment with defined goals and measurable outcomes.

Communication: A transparent communication process is crucial for building trust and ensuring project success.

Conclusion

SAP Basis consulting serves as a force multiplier for the success of your SAP implementations. By partnering with experienced consultants, your business can ensure a robust, resilient, and optimized SAP environment that drives operational efficiency and supports business growth.

You can find more information about SAP  BASIS  in this  SAP BASIS Link

 

Conclusion:

Unogeeks is the No.1 IT Training Institute for SAP  BASIS Training. Anyone Disagree? Please drop in a comment

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