#oseram ale

[greybackpack]

Aloy and Elisabet, sharing a drink and some stories.

For my fic, Hypothetically Real.

Commissioned from: @J_otaemy on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter.

I can not tell you how much I adore this piece, it was worth every dang cent. 10/10 recommend the artist :)

[robo-dino-puppy]

kelp farming in fleet’s end

[row-of-roses]

He actually has a really nice smile when he's not stressing out over Morlund and Aloys antics

[kelsochronicles]

Lifting and moving ale barrels is part of Oseram training right? 👀 Was fun coming up with a tattoo concept for him!

[discar]

HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network

Chapter 12 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

FlameHairSavior: Hey Erend, are Oseram traveling shows common?

ForgeLordAleMaster: I DON'T KNOW IF COMMON IS THE BEST WORD. BUT, YEAH. THEY'RE DEFINITELY AROUND.

ForgeLordAleMaster: WHY?

FlameHairSavior: I met a trio delving for hologram projectors when I was retrieving POSEIDON from Vegas.

ForgeLordAleMaster: WAIT... WERE THEY A DRAMATIC GUY, A GRUMPY NUMBERS GUY, AND A CHEERFUL INVENTOR GUY?

FlameHairSavior: Yeah, you know them?

ForgeLordAleMaster: EVERYBODY KNOWS MORLUND AND HIS BUDDIES! I THREW A WRENCH AT THEM ONCE!

FlameHairSavior: ...I thought Stemmur was joking about that.

β: why would you throw a wrench at them

ForgeLordAleMaster: THAT'S HOW YOU LET THEM KNOW YOU DON'T LIKE THEIR STORY.

β: please tell me thats not normal

HIMBO: The Nora throw fruit if we don't like a story.

Zo: The Utaru just sing louder.

Marshall Kotallo: Among the Tenakth, our stories and histories are sacred. To leave in the middle of a telling is both rude and unwise.

FlameHairSavior: Really. No Tenakth ever interrupts a story.

Marshall Kotallo: Of course not.

Marshall Kotallo: ...although if you happen to spot a machine that needs to be fought, or a chore that needs to be done, then that is clearly an emergency and you can be forgiven for leaving.

ForgeLordAleMaster: SEE, THIS IS WHY THE OSERAM HAVE THE BEST STORIES. THE BAD STORIES GET WEEDED OUT QUICK.

β: survival of the fittest is not supposed to take the form of a wrench to the head

ForgeLordAleMaster: HEY, THEY DODGE!

ForgeLordAleMaster: USUALLY.

HIMBO: So Aloy, what happened to these people? You said they were looking for something?

Marhsall Kotallo: I assume you helped them find it.

Zo: Probably solved a long-standing feud in the process.

ForgeLordAleMaster: NO WAIT, I'VE GOT IT: SHE FULFILLED THEIR WILDEST DREAMS COMPLETELY ON ACCIDENT, AND BY THE TIME SHE LEFT THEY WERE CRYING TEARS OF JOY!

FlameHairSavior: …

FlameHairSavior: There was no crying.

HIMBO: Erend just fell out of his chair laughing.

β: i can hear him from down here

ForgeLordAleMaster: YOU REALLY CAN'T GO ANYWHERE WITHOUT FIXING EVERYTHING, CAN YOU?

FlameHairSavior: In my defense, this situation was much less complicated than the Tenakth, so it really wasn't that impressive. I basically just swam around a little.

ForgeLordAleMaster: UH-HUH. THE IMPORTANT PART IS THAT VARL OWES ME MONEY.

FlameHairSavior: Did you bet on whether I'd find POSEIDON?

ForgeLordAleMaster: NO, WE BET YOU'D BECOME THE SAVIOR OF YET ANOTHER CITY OR CULTURE.

HIMBO: I really don't think three people count as a culture.

ForgeLordAleMaster: SURE. ALOY, WHAT ARE THE THREE IDIOTS DOING NOW? HEADING BACK TO THE CLAIM?

FlameHairSavior: No, they're staying in Vegas. They want to, um.

FlameHairSavior: Revive the city and its culture. They were really inspired by what happened when the system rebooted.

ForgeLordAleMaster: HA!

HIMBO: Fine. I admit defeat. Take your money.

ForgeLordAleMaster: OW. RUDE.

HIMBO: You were supposed to catch it with your hand, not your face.

ForgeLordAleMaster: I WOULDN'T HAVE BET SO MUCH IF I HAD KNOWN YOU WERE GOING TO THROW IT AT ME.

HIMBO: Good to know.

ForgeLordAleMaster: WHAT?  OH, DAMMIT.

β: maybe you two can go down to vegas and spend all of it

ForgeLordAleMaster: ARE YOU TRYING TO GET RID OF US?

β: yes youre loud

ForgeLordAleMaster: YOU REALLY NEED THAT ALE.

Chapter 12 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

[ceo-of-sloppy-men]

My Horizon Forbidden West Headcanons

These are things I personally headcanon. You don't gotta agree with them, because some are pretty me-specific. But enjoy!

Hekkaro is attempting to adopt all the Tennakth he can. He is their dad. He is dad friend and he will make sure you prosper with long, happy lives.

Erend and Kotallo either have a bromance or a romance going on. It's one of those 100k enemies to friends to lovers things but they're getting there

Hekkaro adopted Aloy as well. She may not be Tennakth but that there is his psuedo-daughter

i ship so much at this point everyone is just kissing everyone (save for when it gets weird). I just want to see them all happy, and I don't care who they canonically end up with

Alva and Aloy are autistic but with different support needs and special interests

post-game GAIA gang helps raise Zo and Varl's kid. Everyone pitches in, from Uncle Kotallo teaching him strike, to Uncle Erend teaching him how to wield a hammer, to Aloy showing him how to use a bow, to Auntie Alva teaching him with the Apollo database. Everyone works hard to help Zo

Aloy hates being called Auntie

Aloy teaches Kotallo how to tame a Sunwing and the first thing he does is air-drop himself into the Grove (Aloy gave him a glider, he'll be fine)

Kotallo gestured a lot with his hands, which we can see evidence through his gesturing with his remaining hand. Unfortunately, everyone is used to single-handed Kotallo that Erend gets smacked in the face the day he goes out on a hunt with him and Kotallo is explaining the plan

Zo laughs. Kotallo is very apologetic. The next week there is a Keg of Erend's favourite ale in his "room"

Tild survives the final battle and they force her to stay on Earth (some how). She lives at the base and slowly her and Sylens form an unlikely friendship

The APOLLO database is shared with anyone who wants access to it.

The Oseram find out about Heavy Metal and Rock music and play it full volume (some even build instruments)

Alva listens to death metal and kpop

Sylens unironically listens to the all country music he can possibly find. From Johnny Cash to Dolly Parton

Tilda hates country music and is convinced Sylens only listens to it to annoy her

post-game GAIA gang meets up at the base every few weeks to see if they can beat Kotallo at strike, catch up with what everyone else is doing, and discuss their next step

if they can't meet up physically they have a conference call using their focuses

they do their best to make sure the leaders of different tribes have Focuses so everyone can communicate with each other. It helps inter-tribal relations, as they can safely meet to discuss treaties without worrying about assassination attempts.

[deadspacedame]

I'd love to see the Oseram doing some kind of tavern shanty in the 3rd game, feel like they're the tribe that would. I've been listening to a lot of Peyton Parrish, and just imagining the Oseram smacking the handles of their hammers on the ground while stomping and singing this deep throat shanty about winning the war like Vikings would, with ale in hand of course!

Then Petra dragging Aloy saying "you don't want to miss this, Red" and Erend is leading the whole thing. Aloy would then fall in love even more than she is now

[hanalwayssolo]

i’ve allowed these random hfw headcanon things to gnaw and nibble away at my hyperfixating brain like a bunch of starving squirrels and god (by the forge! by the sun! by the ten!) i might as well write it down before i go insane during this long holiday weekend:

erend, in his thorough research of the ancient ones’ history with music, begins to use phrases like, “this beat is sick,” “this bop slaps!” or “this is a banger!” to describe the songs he thought are good. which are mostly heavy metal. in his defense, the only reason why the genre appealed to him was because it’s “the oseram blood” in him. (“it’s metal??? get it??? by the forge my people would love this!!”)

varl, to keep erend from blasting his questionable music taste in the base, often hijacks his focus with classical music he discovered along with zo and alva. mostly, varl plays vivaldi’s winter. erend was pissed at first but after being forced to listen to it on repeat, it’s actually… not that bad. in fact, his words were: “the beat drop in the middle? a solid 10/10.”

kotallo asking aloy about seashells has been a thing, but honestly, this was not at all a random question, nor did it come from nowhere. truth is, when he was a kid, he often traveled with his parents to the long coast, where he would watch the sea’s ebbs and flows, would listen as the water foams and makes a rustling sound as it meets the shore. he found it so mesmerising, somewhat resenting that he was not born in tide’s reach. now, after watching all the data that aloy has gathered in her travels and having learned that this strange object called a seashell carried the sound of the ocean in its body, he remembers a time when he told his mother how he wanted to “keep the music of the crashing waves in his pocket” so he can continue listening to it even from the bulwark. she only smiled at him and gave him a hug so warm his mother could have been the sun itself. anyway. this seashell seems like lovely thing to have, not just to have the ocean at his fingertips, but perhaps something to remember his mother by.

alva learns this thing called scrabble from the archives, a game played by the old ones to enhance their knowledge of the glyphs. (their word for it was vocabulary. or something to that effect.) she explains the mechanics to the rest of the gang, says that it’s similar to machine strike given how it’s played on a wooden board, but instead of machine pieces, it’s glyphs on a wooden tile. this discussion with the gang happens to coax beta out of the basement.

beta, of course, knows a thing or two about scrabble through the apollo training interface. she’s been so keen to try it out except she didn’t have anyone to play it with when she was still with the zeniths. here in the base, she offers to help in making the board, which more or less astounds everybody considering how… well… she’s been keeping mostly to herself, an isolation / kind of introversion worse than kotallo’s. this makes erend and varl immediately volunteer in carving the board. even kotallo promises he would find the best pigment to paint the glyphs on the tiles. zo and alva exchange a look that’s like, “did we just witness a nora, an oseram, and a tenakth agree on… collaborating?? for a board game??”

zo discovers the recipe for this thing called coffee and chocolate frosting, which she has heard kotallo mentioned during one of his machine strike sessions with erend. (“an oseram forging an unlikely friendship with a tenakth marshal? can you believe??” erend exclaims proudly one night, sharing his piss-poor ale with kotallo.) she lets erend, varl, and of course, kotallo, taste-test for her. the results yielded positive, if not close to catastrophic results. positive because they all seemed to thoroughly enjoy the coffee and the chocolate, but by catastrophic results, she supposes that maybe she added too much sugar and cacao beans? because somehow, the guys kind of… went berserk. they were so awake and alive and burning with a rush of energy that the trio decided to go out to train and hunt that by the time they came back, varl left a trail of dead burrowers outside the base. erend managed to collect a dozen of apex bristleback hearts. and kotallo… returned with a carcass of a stormbird and a massive boulder from the bulwark. zo will have a lot to explain to aloy about this.

aside from varl, the other person who enjoys talking to beta is actually alva. alva is very much fascinated with how beta knows a lot of things!! they spend evenings reading through the archives and talking to gaia, with beta often correcting alva’s quen version of things. of course, alva understands how beta might somehow come off as blunt and rude; after finding out how beta has been treated by the zeniths, alva would raise hell over these immortal jackasses if she could.

zo religiously tends to her garden outside the base by the cliffside facing plainsong, but every now and then, she’d notice how the plants are freshly watered just before she can get to the task herself, or how there’s often an unfamiliar addition to her pot of flowers. she doesn’t mind this at all; frankly, she appreciates it. she assumes varl might be behind this as he’s the only one who lends her a hand to keep their little lush space alive and to bring in more plants for the base—until gaia points out a fun fact in their passing conversation that the new flowers blooming in her garden are only native to tenakth soil. specifically, it only grows in the sheerside mountains. well. with that in mind, it doesn’t take long for zo to put two and two together. besides, it really doesn’t take a genius to figure out the identity of this secret gardener. 

so yeah, sure. sure. kotallo takes care of the cliffside garden in secret. i mean, why wouldn’t he? it’s on the way to the sunwing site where he often trains, and erend usually forgets to water the plants, anyway. and about the flowers... he wanted to bring something that reminds him of home and to honour the friends he lost. truth is, this was all gaia’s idea. ever since he told gaia about how he lost his arm and what happened in the embassy, she mentioned that one of the many things the old ones did to cope with the kind of thing he’s been through is to make a garden. (and by ‘that kind of thing’, the words that gaia used specifically were trauma and grief. he knows she means well but this didn’t make sense to him—he’s pretty sure he’s neither traumatised nor grieving. of course not. he’s fine. he’s absolutely, totally fine.)

(of course he’s NOT fine but by the fucking ten why would he dare to admit that out loud? and what is he if not in denial? yes, he felt this when he lost his parents—but how come this is different? how come this feels a lot heavier than when he was a kid? does grief change its form the older you get? what if he’s struggling to process these big and complex feelings because he grew up being taught how to fight and not to sit with grief? to only bury the dead and to keep moving forward? besides, who has time to grieve and to wallow on losses when his tribe is at the brink of another civil war? this has always been the tenakth way: to keep a stiff upper lip, to never let sentiment get in the way of duty. to mourn is as unnatural as a dreadwing being docile. so how, pray tell, could he ever let himself have a say when he’s hasn’t been taught to do so?)

so instead, kotallo learns how to plant flowers to make room for grief. he makes space for another when they lose varl in gemini. he realises later on that he might have been unkind to erend, how easily he let go of the words “we can’t sit around wallowing in our losses” as if varl was a thing and not a friend, because truthfully, he was coming from a place of fear for his tribe, which, in turn, diminished the way erend was dealing with this loss, who’s taking this harder than the rest of them. of course varl and erend go a long way back. this time, kotallo is the outsider to their friendship. and kotallo of all people should know what that kind of pain feels like. he lost an arm, yes, but to lose your friends, to be the only one to survive… isn’t the grief from all of that a kind of maiming, too?

[katiemcgrathisdaddyaf]

waves come crashing

“The open sea ahead and Fleet’s End disappearing behind us… along with everyone in it.”

Aloy feels a pang of sympathy. “Why do you put up with them?” Perhaps she’s never understood this bond to a tribe, never had the opportunity, but she struggles to see why someone would want to stay with people who don’t appreciate them.

“Well, it wasn’t always like this. I was a good marine. A good sister. I felt like I belonged,” Seyka explains. “That belonging is a strength, one that keeps me going even in the roughest seas. When you have something like that, you can’t cast it aside.”

Aloy thinks of Beta, of her friends who she’d go to the ends of the earth for. With them is the only place she’s ever truly felt like she belonged, not a tribe or a place. She supposes she can relate to that.

“I see,” Aloy starts. “You know, your people don’t know how lucky they are… to have you.”

Aloy’s stomach leaps up to her heart as she says it. It’s the way the boat hits the wave, the moment the hull leaves the water and they’re in the air. That’s all it is. Nothing more. A simple human reaction, not unlike the fall from her Sunwing earlier, or the countless times grappling from the side of a sheer cliff.

“I don’t know about that,” Seyka says, doubt laced in her voice.

Aloy winces at the sentiment. It doesn’t sit right. Seyka is clearly talented, strong-willed, intent on the survival of her people.

There’s a deep, angry burn in Aloy’s chest.

Seyka deserves better.

Aloy can’t help but imagine how well she’d fit in with the rest of her friends — how they seem to be a group that doesn’t quite fit in anywhere else. She wonders what it’d be like to bring Seyka to the base, what bunk she’d get, how their spears would stack alongside one another by the door. Maybe she’d like Zo’s cooking, or Erend’s Oseram ale.

But she's getting ahead of herself. Seyka has too much to worry about as it is. She’s not ready to learn about Gaia, the Zeniths, Nemesis, the imminent destruction of their world. She doesn’t need that burden.

No. Aloy will help Seyka find her sister, take care of Londra, and be on her way. Back to the Forbidden West, back to her own mission.

“I do.” The words slip out of Aloy’s mouth before she can stop them.

There’s no wave to excuse the flutter in her gut this time. The silence between them is louder than the engine propelling the skiff.

Aloy mentally kicks herself for saying it. She’s not even sure why she feels the need to push this.

But it’s true. Aloy knows. She may have only just met Seyka, she may not understand the customs of the Quen, but Aloy knows what it’s like to come from a tribe that doesn’t see value in her.

She knows that pain — the desire to be accepted, to be recognized — going as far as to risk her life for them. The burden is a heavy, ceaseless weight, harder to bear alone. And if Aloy can help her bear that weight…

“There,” Seyka points out. “My people’s boats.”

She drives the skiff onto the beach. The awkward conversation is left behind with the water as they turn their focus to the mountain and the Horus on top. There’s no time to sort out her emotions — there never is. Defeating Londra is what’s important, preparing for Nemesis. This… this feeling can wait.

~also posted on ao3~

[thessalian]

Thess vs Las Vegas, Again

I didn't want it to keep annoying me so I tried the stupid Gizmo quest again. And that was ... cooler than expected.

Right. Is it going to let me jump now? ...YES! Except that was the wrong way.

Not angled right.

FUCK.

OKAY THERE WE GO! And up the stairs we go!

Ah. Half a code. Greeeeeeeat. This is probably going to be more Playing With Crates thing, isn't it.

Yeeeeeep.

I mean, on one level, the things they've done with physics in this game are really remarkable. On the other hand, THIS IS ANNOYING.

Okay. Finally got everything stacked the way I need it to and-- Oh, fuck off ENTIRELY!

I get you wanted to make it a challenge, Guerilla, but if you want us to drag the crate, you have to not almost entirely obscure the hitbox with random set dressing!

FINALLY. Oop, outside. Well, sort of. In the dome, not in the vents. But with the way it's lit up with everything rebooted, I grant it's hard to tell.

Oh. They were used to change the lights for the holidays-- so the clovers were for St Patrick's Day, the eggs were for Easter, the hearts for Valentine's Day, the crescent moons for ... what, Eid? They included Eid? Fantastic.

WOO! Okay, heeeere gizmo gizmo gizmo...

Aaaaand we have candy canes. Christmas. Huh.

Okay. Now for Morlund's burner.

More messing with the physics THANK YOU FOR THAT.

Crate crate crate ... vent vent vent... LEAP. At least it's not as stressful as Cauldrons.

Oop. MORTE LE DRAGON! (Yes, the spelling is the same in French and English, but the pronunciation is so much not.)

Could those squeaky annoying pains in my ass have come out at the major impact? You know, DRAGON HEAD?!?

I. HATE. FIGHTING. CLOSE. UP.

Anyway. Got it. Stemmur first.

So basically if you put Stemmur, Abadund, and Morlund together, and then squished them a bit, you'd have one full Varric Tethras. And Oseram are what you get if you put together every dwarven stereotype in the known universe. Bling, ale, and forging.

Oooooh, I get to pick the holiday that shows up? ...What's Bodhi Day? I'd prefer do one I know but isn't quite so ... Western. Eid al-Fitr was more recent than most of these others, so I'll go with that one.

...Woooooooooow.

EDIT FROM THE FUTURE: Bodhi Day is "the enlightenment of Gautama Buddha". Huh. Wow.

Anyway. Off to Morlund. Here you go, Morlund--

Wait.

Waitwut.

Yeah okay, fine, I will ride your flying machine if--

He made a hot air balloon?!? Oh, that is awesome!

Stormy and some kind of machine... Do ... do I get to kill a Stormbird? DO I?!? ...I mean, assuming I survive this crash. Which I will assume because I don't think this is like Baldur's Gate 3, where one bad decision can just insta-gib you.

Yes, Morlund, I will get you out of your predicament but I will loot first!

Ah, so we need the burner because you are going to try this again. Maybe when I've fixed ELEUTHIA. So let's--

STORMBIRD! STORMBIRD YAY!

Still pretty good at hitting those weak spots, even when it's throwing a literal thunderstorm at my face-- Oop.

HA! Last sliver of health down by a shot to the neck right as it was about to breathe bullshit at me! Yes, Morlund, that was epic; thank you for your enthusiasm. It's nice to see my hard work appreciated now and then.

Morlund, you are adorable and I love your enthusiasm. You and your troupe are why I love the Oseram. Ingenious, intrepid, enthusiastic, loyal little freaks with hearts as big as their ale kegs.

(Okay fine there are some shitty ones like Ulvund and the Sons of Prometheus, but the latter don't count because they're more Sylens' people than any known tribe and the former ... well, he's probably mor an outcast than anything else right now. Those bad apples are being removed before they spoil the whole barrel.)

(Side note: YES THAT IS HOW THAT PHRASE WORKS. When people talk about, for example, the police forces only having "a few bad apples", the saying is, "A few bad apples spoils the barrel". So you remove the bad apples before they can do that. Or, in the case of most law enforcement, probably better to just set the whole barrel on fire, but never mind.)

Right. Pick up some side quests at Camp Nowhere before hanging it up for the night. 'Cos Talahna and... oh, hi, Porguf.

...Really.

......Really?!?

Yeah, that's better. Please try honesty with me, Porguf. I promise you I react to it better than steaming piles of bullshit. I will return the property you stole if I can but I gotta talk to my friend first and--

Talahna? There is more shit I don't know and you have zero idea how much I hate that but since the story demands it and I was heading in the direction of the Jungle Zone anyway, I will help you. But I want some NPC codex-dump out of you when we get there, okay? It's only because you are my friend that I'm going to trek around someplace called "The Rot".

That was the point at which I decided I was pretty much done. Yeah, I'm going through this game slowly and I definitely won't be doing a 100% completion run (I dislike melee pits and combat charger racing) but it's a pace I can manage and I'm having fun and that's all that matters.

Now I am going to raid my newly filled fridge for protein.

[melikochan]

14, Avad and Blameless Marad

Night had fallen over the Mesa, thicker than an Oseram winter stew and just as hot. Atop the Sun Palace, one could barely hear the city's revelry. The city mourned their former Vanguard captain, Ersa, murdered in a surprise attack just days before. The Oseram mourned like a man in the throes of a fever dream: with wild, pitched abandon. The ale started flowing that morning, and the kegs had yet to run dry.

Sun King Avad had made an appearance at the funeral, saying a few kind words as was proper, but had retreated back to the palace as soon as the ceremony concluded. It was there atop the Palace that the Blameless Marad found him, deep within his own cups of spiced Carja wine.

"What do you want, Marad?" Avad asked sullenly, sensing his spymaster's appearance from the quiet clack of his boots and the shadow that loomed across the tiles. He took a deep sip from his goblet, wine staining the edge of his patchy mustache.

"Just checking up on you, your Radiance. You can understand why I might be...concerned about you, on this day."

"You've nothing to be concerned with, Marad. Leave me."

Marad pursed his lips, clasping his hands loosely behind his back. "I don’t think I should leave you alone right now, your Radiance."

With a growl, Avad dashed his goblet upon the dusty orange brick that lined the balcony, splattering wine across Marad's trousers. "Your Sun King commands you to leave, Marad!"

But Marad did not leave—he arched a single eyebrow at his king, saying nothing. After a moment, he watched as the anger melted from Avad's shoulders.

The Sun King sunk back into the divan, shame coloring his face. He brought up his hands, wearily, rubbing them into his face. "Apologies, Marad."

"Think nothing of it, your Radiance." A pause. "Do you wish to speak about her?"

Avad sunk over, elbows digging into his thighs. His face was still hidden by his large, delicate hands. "No," came his muffled reply. "I cannot. Not yet."

Marad inclined his head. "Very well, your Radiance. I will be here reviewing reports, in case you wish to discuss anything."

The Sun King sighed, hands falling down to his lap. "Thank you, Marad." The maelstrom of grief had cleared from his eyes, leaving a dull sadness.

"Of course, your Radiance."

[ryah-wolfe]

Jaytim/HZD

 “Aren’t you kinda small for an Oseram?” 

“And aren’t you far from your land Nora?”  The young man replied without looking up from his workbench.

Jason grimaced when Stephanie’s boney elbow slammed into his stomach. 

“Behave” the blonde Carja hissed at him. “He’s the one I get my upgrades from”

Jason had met Stephanie at one of the Carja’s hunting grounds and shared a few pints of strong Oseram ale while nursing bruises from a sneaky Watcher. He found an unlikely friend in the Carja and asked who built her weapons, looking to upgrade his own. She had looked at him for a long time over their empty ales before telling him to meet her tomorrow morning next to one of the towers in Meridian. Together they had climbed hundreds of steps up the tower, while she ignored all of his questions. 

Now here he was at the top of the tower, looking out the glass windows of the large room he found himself in. The view was so vast he couldn’t help but squint to try and see Mother’s Heart from this height. 

“I brought you a paying customer” Stephanie called out as a greeting to the young man bent over a contraption of wire and steel. 

Jason struggled for a few seconds to pull his gaze from the windows before he turned it to the man Stephanie had brought him to meet. Everything about him screamed Carja but he wore Oseram leathers. He was pretty like the Carja but his hands held the sparking wires like a veteran Oseram Tinker. 

So when he opened his mouth, and Jason’s words came tumbling out, he was pleasantly surprised by how quick the man’s tongue was, before frowning at the blonde.

“You told him about me?” He wondered when she would have the time, he definitely wouldn’t want to climb those stairs with a few pints in him, especially not late at night. 

“Nah, I went home to sleep off the ales last night but Creep over there” Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest “ has ears all over the Sundom” She wiggles her fingers at him, like that was supposed to spook him. 

“I like knowing when I’m talked about and Oracle gave me a heads up I would have visitors today” the man straightened his posture and blue eyes, turned even brighter by the Carja-red feather markings around them, stared at Jason. The man’s eyes dropped to his boots and slowly dragged up his body, the gaze as intense as a hunting Sawtooth, made Jason’s body flush with adrenaline and desire. 

“Good armor,” the man noted once he was done with his slow dragging gaze.

“Made it myself.” 

Jason was not a Stitcher but the years of growing up an outcast made him handy with a needle and wires. 

“But I can make it better” the man smirked as he held out a hand. 

Flushing now in anger, Jason moved to take the man’s arm before his own hand was pushed away.

“I want to look at your armor” the man rolled his eyes like Jason was being willfully ignorant “Strip. I don’t have all day.” He commanded as he started to clear his workbench. Jason’s poor body was flushed with too many hot emotions. 

Glaring at the rude man, Jason ground out between clenched teeth “Maybe I don’t want your work now. You can’t even offer me a name and I’m sure there’s other Tinkers in this city, who won’t be so mouthy.” Or as lovely. 

Bright blue eyes lazily looked at him before a sharp Snapmaw smile spread across his pretty face. “You may call me Tim, and my weapons have no rival.” 

[auntie-coagulant]

Avad’s voice is a humorous rumble at his shoulder, and a mug of cider appears at Erend’s elbow as if by magic. Later, he will blame exhaustion for what comes out of his mouth next.

“I could kiss you right now, Your Radiance.”

Kotallo chokes, and Avad goes very still. Erend freezes, his face forge-hot and glowing.

“Is this a Carja tradition, trading kisses for ale?” Kotallo asks slyly, eyes glinting with mischief. “Or is it an Oseram custom?” 

[ao3feed-ereloy]

elements of surprise

by theyloy

It reminded her of the welcome chill of a desert evening, the heat of a hearth, and of Erend, and with that came a thousand other scent memories at once: cinnamon and Oseram ale, oiled leather and incense, clay ovens and woodsmoke, spices she couldn’t identify that she knew she loved at first taste.

Written for the prompt: Surprise

Words: 1570, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of two minutes

Fandoms: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Aloy (Horizon: Zero Dawn), Erend (Horizon: Zero Dawn), Beta (Horizon: Forbidden West)

Relationships: Aloy & Erend (Horizon: Zero Dawn), Aloy/Erend (Horizon: Zero Dawn)

Additional Tags: Fluff, Slice of Life, Post-Canon, Post-Game: Horizon: Forbidden West, Erend's love language is food, Aloy's is showing up, One Shot

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/41263647

[discar]

HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network

Chapter 2 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

[Varl] has added [Erend] to the group

[Erend] has been DISCONNECTED [device not found]

[Varl] has added [Erend] to the group

Varl: I fund Trend.

Varl: Rend.

Varl: EREND.

Zo: What was that?

Aloy: The dark side of spellcheck. I actually thought Rost's name was spelled "Rust" for YEARS.

Aloy: Thankfully, I had no one to talk to, so I didn't embarrass myself.

Zo: Oh, dear.

Erend: WHAT IS THIS? CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?

Varl: I definitely can. You don't need to speak when you type.

Erend: HOW DID YOU DO THAT? I DIDN'T SEE YOUR MOUTH MOVE.

Varl: Just focus on the words without actuating saying them.

Erend: LIKE THIS?

Varl: No.

Erend: HOW ABOUT NOW?

Varl: Can you not hear your own voice?

Aloy: Don't worry Erend, you'll get it eventually.

Zo: If you don't mind me saying, Erend, your spelling is better than I expected, based on what Varl said. He made it sound like you were a... what did he say... "if a problem can't be solved with a hammer either at the forge or on the battlefield, it's not his problem."

Erend: WELL, YEAH, BUT I GOT A PROPER OSERAM EDUCATION. HOW TO READ, HOW TO WRITE, HOW TO SPOT A SUB-PAR FORGING IN YOUR TOOLS AND FILE A SUIT AGAINST THE SMITH. ALL THAT STUFF THEY TEACH AT SCHOOL.

Aloy: Oh? Nothing about ale?

Erend: THAT'S FOR FAMILY TO TEACH YOU. IF YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO QUAFF AN ALE BY THE TIME YOU START SCHOOL, THE OTHER KIDS WILL LAUGH YOU OUT OF THE ACADEMY.

Zo: ...at what age do Oseram begin their formal education?

Erend: TWELVE OR SO. WHY?

Zo: Ah.

Aloy: I'm guessing that's young?

Zo: The Utaru do not have strict rules on such things, but the young are discouraged from tasting alcohol. It encourages boisterousness.

Erend: THAT'S THE POINT!

Aloy: The Utaru aren't big on being loud or rowdy.

Erend: YOU SOUND LIKE A CARJA. THEY HAVE ACTUAL LAWS ABOUT THIS SLAG. MOSTLY WHEN YOU CAN'T DRINK, AND HOW MUCH IS TOO MUCH DRINK. I DON'T UNDERSTAND ANY OF IT.

Zo: Yes, that is not surprising.

Zo: What about the Nora, Aloy? Do they have any rules on alcohol?

Aloy: No idea. Rost never drank, though.

Varl: Alcohol is mostly used for religious ceremonies. Sometimes celebrations, though to be honest those are petty much the same thing for us.

Varl: Anyway, Aloy, when will you be back at base? Did you want to show him around?

Aloy: I'll be a while. I have some things I need to do in the area. Let Erend settle in, show him how to access data on his Focus.

Erend: THERE'S OTHER THINGS I CAN DO WITH THIS THING?

Aloy: Maybe deny him ale until he figures out how to text properly.

Erend: THAT'S A DUELING OFFENSE IN THE CLAIM.

Aloy: Good thing we're not in the Claim, then.

Chapter 2 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

I just want Erend to believe in himself

Erend seems to have so little self confidence, and I just want to scoop him up and hug him and tell him it’s okay we all need you and you’re doing a great job!

I’ve loved Erend since the first game, not as a romantic option for Aloy (although he clearly has feelings for her) but he is so ready to support her no matter what.

So it breaks my heart to talk to him in the Base and he is like ‘oh yeah well I guess I’ll try and learn this stuff, not sure if I can really do anything to help though’

And it’s like EREND

YOU ARE EVERYTHING TO ME

I just want him to believe in himself ;_;