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justrandomfanfictionskh · 2 years

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We Should have Stayed in Gotham ch1

(Almost every Maribat fic I read has the akuma class going to Gotham. But tell me which is more likely, a class touring the city of crime, or a class touring the city of lights? So here it is, the Daminette fic that only I asked for, where Gotham goes to Paris, and the poor students have to grapple with the fact that they have competition for the most dangerous city in the world. I wonder what will happen?)

ao3

The Gotham students stepped out of the airport and immediately had to squint against the sudden bright light of the mid-morning sun. Already the differences between Gotham and Paris were making themselves known causing every single Gothamite to scoff, laugh, and shake their heads at the Parisians' apparently unwarranted paranoia. There was absolutely no way Paris was more dangerous than Gotham. And yet for some strange reason the Parisian administrators of the International Friendship Conference petitioned to have the conference in Gotham? It was pure insanity.

Even the smallest child knew that having over a dozen schools from five different countries gather together in one place was a recipe for disaster in the city where the opening of a new bank could be the precursor for a terrorist attack. And yet Paris was insistent, that Gotham take its turn hosting the celebration, saying that it was “Too dangerous.” Everyone had laughed at that, literally. There was not a single Gothamite who had heard the news and not laughed. Even now driving the buss to their first location, even Damian “Ice Prince” Wayne was fighting an amused smirk and a soft chuckle, as his peers laughed at the naive and clueless Parisians walking the street below.

In Paris, the sun was shining. In Gotham, the sun barely ever broke through the smog and the rain. In Paris, pedestrians chatted amicably while walking at a leisurely pace. In Gotham, if you didn’t rush to your next location with your head down then you were asking to get mugged. In Paris, police directed traffic and waved to children. In Gotham, the police were always running from one armed robbery to another. Damian scoffed. Paris was like Metropolis, shiny and clean. Gotham was dark and dirty.

“It was probably a prank,” one of the Gotham High students said to his fellows. “You know a joke to get on our good side!”

“Ha!” one of the Gotham Academy students scoffed, “They should know that unlike Two-Face we don’t have a good side.” The bus was filled with laughter, and even Damian’s smirk twitched into a brief smile at the words.

It was no secret that the class divide in America's most dangerous city was as wide as the Grand Canyon. In fact, the only reason the students from the public high school were able to afford this trip was because of the Thomas and Martha Wayne Scholarship Foundation, which—among other opportunities, provided money for Gotham High Students to attend international trips with Gotham Academy. Damian could appreciate the elegance of the arrangement. The spoiled brats, that were unfortunately his peers, could jet off to Paris for the weekend whenever they wished and cared little for school functions where they could not display their wealth. But students from lower income families would probably never leave the city. So why not have them tag along on one of the prestigious rich school field trips where half of the students would opt out of going anyway?

Now, usually this meant that the trip was split into two very distinct groups with each side antagonizing the other, while Damian scowled in the middle. But whenever anyone said anything bag against their shared city, the class divide vanished. Suddenly they were one group united against the outsider who dared insinuate that Gotham was anything but superior in every way. So at that moment the bus was filled with rich and poor laughter as another student said,

“Can you imagine what would have happened if these people had actually come to Gotham!”

“They would’ve folded to Condiment King!”

Damian saw that even the chaperones were smiling softly at the front of the bus. They were probably predicting their easiest trip yet, and Damian found himself agreeing with them. He liked Paris. He had gone here on a mission with his mother. It had been one of the more pleasant ones, considering he had not had to kill anyone. And it was a beautiful city full of art, culture, and history, and since the class seemed to be united, Damian predicted a nice relaxing vacation with no troubles whatsoever. He found himself actually a little excited.

Eventually their laughter was cut off by the fact that they had arrived at their destination. Collège et Lycée Françoise Dupont was the host school for the conference, and they had requested that all of the attending schools participate in a brief assembly with their corresponding classes before going to their hotel and seeing the city. Damian’s class filled into a large classroom with teared desks facing a chalkboard with a projector in front of it. Two teachers were waiting for them. One was a stern looking woman with sharp features and sharp eyes, and the other was her exact opposite. One look and every Gothamite silently agreed, the second woman would not last two minutes in their home, while the first might last long enough to run screaming.

Damian found his way to the back of the class and glared at anyone who got too close, but he needn’t have bothered. The GA students knew him too well, and the GH students were subconsciously separating themselves from the “rich kids.” Once everyone settled the soft teacher cleared her throat and spoke in a sickly sweet voice that made all of the Gothamites cringe against the unfamiliarity of such a tone. No one in Gotham spoke with that level of cheer, unless they were brainwashed…or a villain…or a brain washed villain.

“Greetings everyone!” she said in English, “I am Mme. Caline Bustier, and this is Mme. Mendeleiev. We are the French chaperones for this trip. For the next week you will be partnered with our advanced English Class as you tour the sites and participate in other Conference activities. But before we begin, our class representative and her co-representative have prepared a little presentation to ensure that your time in Paris is as safe and as enjoyable as possible.”

The Gothamites snickered quietly as three girls entered the room each carrying a stack of binders which they stacked on the teacher’s desk at the front of the class. Damian narrowed his eyes at the three girls and found them…strange. They were just too different from each other and yet they moved together with familiarity. It didn’t make sense to him. First there was the blonde girl dressed almost entirely in yellow and black. With her perfect posture, designer clothes, and her narrowed eyes looking down her nose at everyone, she could easily fit right in among the Gotham Elite. Damian assumed that she would take the presenters position, but all she did was narrowly examine everyone with too knowing eyes and scoff, before sitting on the teachers desk and pulling out a nail file.

The second girl who entered the room, had all the appearance and attitude of a lacky. The first word that popped into Damian’s head was lapdog. But the demure girl with auburn hair and round glasses simply giggled at the first’s antics and took her position in front of the teachers with a confident yet shy smile.

That left the third girl. However, Damian did not get a good look at her before she glanced around the room, blushed, and promptly tripped over nothing sending all of her binders flying. The Gothamites snickered as the second girl rushed to help the third. Damian internally groaned at the blatant incompetence. But everyone was silenced by a sharp, “Hey!”

Everyone’s attention snapped to the first girl who was now glaring at them with the intensity of Poison Ivy when someone touched one of her plants. “If all you can do is laugh at someone when they fall, then you wont survive two minutes in Paris. Now apologize to my friend, and—”

“Chloe,” the third girl said and despite her flushed face and her nervously darting eyes her voice was clear and calm, and almost commanding despite the fact that it was also soft and melodic. “It’s ok. I’m not hurt, and it wasn’t their fault. It was an accident. Just take a breath, and help Sabrina pass out the binders. Please?”

The rich girl, Chloe, grumbled under her breath but obeyed (even if she slammed the binders in front of the students who had snickered). As this was happening, the clumsy girl brushed herself off and took her place in front and center. Now that Damian could examine her, he found that she was even more different than the other two, and he could not comprehend how she could have possibly commanded this Chloe. She was small, with black hair pulled back in pigtails like a five-year-old. Her bright bluebell eyes and blinding smile screamed innocence and naivety. Every single Gothamite thought the exact same thing,

“She would have died in Gotham.”

But despite her earlier clumsiness and the thoughts of the visitors, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Damian stared in fascination as a change came over the girl. Her posture straightened. Her shoulders squared. She lifted her head, and when she opened her eyes, there was nothing but confidence and clarity in them. Damian huffed in consideration and leaned back in his chair suddenly very interested in what this girl had to say as the other one, Sabrina placed his binder in front of him with a smile.

“Hello,” the girl up front said in near perfect English. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I am the class representative for Lycée Françoise Dupont Troisième Class. Or as you would say, sophomore year, same as all of you. This is my co-representative Sabrina Raincomprix.”

“Hello!” Sabrina waved as she took her place at the front of the class. “It’s nice to meat all of you. By the way this is our friend, Chloe Bourgeois. She’s a little overprotective.” Chloe just huffed and retook her seat on top of the desk, electing to ignore everyone else.

“Any way,” Marinette continued with that same blindingly bright smile. “Due to the current state of Paris, we felt it only fair to walk you through a ‘How to Survive Paris Crash Course’ before the conference gets into full swing.” The Gothamites stared at the small Parisian girl in astonishment. She wasn’t serious was she? Didn’t she know who they were? Where they were from?

Apparently she was because she ignored their incredulous stares and pulled up one of the extra binders and presented it to the class. “You were all handed a Paris Survival Guide made by the student council for the conference. In it you will find everything you need to know about our villain, our heroes, and the protocol for surviving their battles, including a map to the akuma shelters near the conference’s various locations, and a list of apps that you will be required to download in order to ensure you and your friends safety. Now if you all open your guides, I will briefly go over the most important information before turning you back over to your teachers.”

“You can’t be serious!” Damian saw Chad, one of the GA students, stand up and stare at the girl in amused disbelief. “All this for a villain? Singular? You know we’re from Gotham right? We can handle whatever cutesy little trouble maker you throw at us. We have the Joker.”

While no one particularly liked Chad, Damian thought he was an idiotic prick, the students couldn’t help but mutter and nod in agreement. But Damian only raised his eyebrow as a change came over every single Parisian in the room. They all stood up straighter, their shoulders tense. They watched the Gothamites with a mixture of fear, frustration, and annoyance. But before any of them could speak, Chloe leapt from the desk and stomped up to Chad.

Everyone fell silent, before the fire in her eyes and the fury in her step. She slammed a hand on his desk forcing him to flinch back in his seat so that she was looming over him in a storm of black and yellow. “Oh, you think you’re so clever, huh? Oh we have the Joker! We can survive anything!” she said mockingly, “Well Monsieur ‘I’m from Gotham,’ I wish we had the Joker. Do you know why? Because—”

“Chloe!” Everyone snapped back to Marinette. Her voice was suddenly as sharp and as cold as her expression as she glared at her friend. Damian unconsciously flinched at how closely this small girl’s ferocity resembled his father’s patented expression. And everyone recognized the quiet command she held, as even those who had continued to snicker at Choe and Chad were silenced into rapt attention.

“Take a breath, Chloe,” Marinette said a bit more gently. And Damian watched in amusement as the other girl visibly relaxed as she made her way back to her friends. Once her view was unobstructed, Marinette studied the Gothamites and sighed. She set down her binder and fell into a more relaxed posture as she leaned against the desk. She then turned her gaze on Chad. From his position behind the other boy, Damian saw yet another thing in the girl that threw him into confusion. Exhaustion. “What would you do,” Marinette asked Chad calmly, “If the Joker was robbing a bank and you told a tourist to avoid that street, but they just laughed and continued walking?”

“Um,” Chad said, his eyes searching desperately for support, “I would wish them a speedy death, cause that’s all they deserve for being so stupid.”

The Gothamites chuckled, and Marinette nodded with a soft, understanding smile. “Exactly,” she said. “In your city, you respect you villains and the danger they pose, and you ask everyone to do the same. All we ask is for the same curtesy. Is that too much to ask?”

Damian found himself impressed as he watched his peers silently straighten in their seats, and begin fingering their binders. With one question, she had gained the attention and the consideration of an entire group intent on mocking her. Now she was in complete control, as she nodded and straightened. She turned, opened her binder, and said, “Now, Paris only has one villain and his partner, however, he is probably the worst villain you will ever encounter outside of Gotham. The reason is simple, he enslaves people.”

Everyone jerked up, confusion filling the classroom as Sabrina picked up the thread, “If you will all turn to page one under the section marked ‘Heroes and Villains,’ you will see the latest picture of our villain, Hawkmoth, as well as a list of his powers. On page two you will see a picture of his partner, Mayura. The rest of the chapter is a list of the heroes currently fighting them.”

“Right now Paris is at war,” Marinette said, her calm seriousness perfectly contrasting with Sabrina’s light lecturing. “But the soldiers are not willing henchmen and crooks like in Gotham. They are people, normal people just going about their lives, until Hawkmoth strikes.”

“The magic item he wields allows him to create akumas,” Sabrina said over the sound of pages turning. “Akumas are magic purple butterflies that possess Hawkmoth’s victims transforming them into villains that will do his bidding. But do not be alarmed, in order for Hawkmoth to possess you, certain qualifications must be met.”

“Negative emotion,” Marinette said, her exhaustion seemed to seep into her words as she said it. “Anger, sadness, fear, pain. These are the thoughts and emotions that Hawkmoth uses to possess his victims. Should you at any moment feel any of these emotions then you are at risk of being akumatized. And once that happens you will only care about two things. The first, will be the thing that caused the negative emotions. Be they a person, or an action, you will become obsessed with fulfilling the need the negative emotions created. The second is obeying Hawkmoth’s will without question or choice.”

“Section two in your Paris Survival Guide,” Sabrina said with unwavering cheerful professionalism. “Has a list of the most common akuma, their negative emotion, and the actions that created them. Section three has a list of self-calming techniques, as well as meditation apps, and the number for the Self Care Hotline in case you need immediate assistance. If you do not have a phone, one will be provided for you curtesy of Wayne Enterprises.”

Damian felt all eyes glance at him, but he ignored them as Marinette continued. “Akumas vary from person to person. The only thing they really have in common is bad fashion sense. But you never know how dangerous they are going to be. Some will only cause a traffic jam. Some…some will make you think the world is ending.”

“A complete list of every akuma to ever appear,” Sabrina declared, “Is listed on the website miraculousparis.gov, as well as on the only hero approved blog, SpotsOn.com. On both sites, the akumas are organized by their danger level. The weakest being a level one, the strongest being a level ten. On both sites there is also a list of protocols to survive each akuma, which can also be found in section four of your guides.”

“Your going to want to download the Akuma Alert App,” Marinette said with an almost bored air, “It is the most efficient way to avoid and survive akumas since it will alert you of their location, threat level, and which protocols to follow. Teachers, you are required to have the app, and to report on it whenever one of your students are akumatized.”

“Due to the number of visitors here for the conference, and Hawkmoth’s patterns,” Sabrina said her cheerfulness giving way to something akin to sternness. “It is very likely that we will be experiencing at least one akuma a day. Our calculations have predicted, that at least one of you will be akumatized before the end of the week. All of you will be caught in at least three akuma attacks, and since you’re from Gotham, should any of them be higher than a level six, then at least half, if not all, of you will die.”

All of the Gothamites dropped their jaws on the floor before Marinette continued with a half-amused smile, “Try not to worry too much about dying though. If you look at our main hero, Ladybug, on page three you’ll see that one of her powers is the Miraculous cure. She reverses any damage done during an akuma attack, and yes that includes resurrecting the dead. But still, do try not to die. Dying sucks, and you will remember it. If not when you’re awake, then at least when you sleep, and nobody wants a nightmare akuma, anytime soon. They suck!”

All of the Parisians stared at nothing, as they nodded in unison, before Sabrina continued in her chipper tone, “At the back of your guide there is a list off all of the apps and websites we just mentioned. We recommend you study them thoroughly before you begin your tour of the city this afternoon!”

“But please,” Marinette said almost pleadingly, “Above all else remember this, the people who are akumatized, are not the enemy. They are the victims. They will do terrible things to anyone who get in their way. But they will remember none of it. No matter who they hurt, or what they destroy, they will never remember the things they did while akumatized. It does nothing to blame them except create an opportunity for another akuma. They are not at fault no matter what happens. The enemy is Hawkmoth and Mayura. They are the villains of this city. The only villains. Please keep that in mind, and do your best to be kind and respectful to others. You do not want to be the cause of an akuma.”

“Anything else you need to know is in your guides and on the sights mentioned,” Sabrina said closing her book with a snap.

Let me know if you want to be tagged, or check out this fic on Ao3!!

“Welcome to Paris!” Chloe said with a scoff, and with that, the girls left.

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the-starry-seas · 4 days

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list your 10 favorite characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people!

tagged by @loverboy-havocboy mwah <3

1) Tech Bad Batch you'll always be famous to me

2) Donnie for every version of TMNT love that dude

3) Ripley from Alien I will never be normal about her

4) Blue from Jurassic World I could pet her

5) Bee from Transformers I think he could fix me

6) Barney Barton from Marvel comics I need to throw him off a roof

7) Kili from The Hobbit deserved so much better...

8) BT FROM TITANFALL LET'S GOOO BEST TITAN 4EVA

9) Zer0 Borderlands I'd let him shoot me but that's maybe a low bar

10) Tsume from Wolf's Rain maybe precursor to my Crosshair interest

tagging @rooksunday @hastalavistabyebye @whiskygoldwings @insertmeaningfulusername @mereelskirata

@corrie-guard-things @cookiemonsterv3 @letshareapapou @adhd-coyote @sofiasfanartcollection

#bestie i was struggling to think of ten fandoms for a minute there #ask game answer

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12pt-times-new-roman · 1 year

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c3e66

To Zephrah!

I am reminded that there's another place in the story where we've seen wounds that leak black ichor and refuse to heal by natural or magical means: the wound that Tharizdun left Ioun with.

oh the new Laudna art is gorgeous

Orym got a custom battle maneuver! Zephran Spirit lets him expend a superiority die and add the result to a dexterity save. I'm assuming it's not a dex save specifically caused by wind, because that's ridiculously specific -- it's probably something like dex saves against falling prone, being grappled, forced movement, etc.

First to greet them is Maeve, Orym's sister (in law), with a group of guards.

Keyleth is still wounded, and are multiple Zephran soldiers who made it out of "the Red Center." That battle was an "all to arms" situation, and most of Zephrah's military force was sent there. Lida, another of Orym's systers, was unharmed and is tending to Keyleth's wounds.

In Zephrah, some of the permanent enchantment-based wards are offline, and some of their means of transportation are down.

oh god, Keyleth's spell slots aren't restoring either???

When the malleus key went off, everyone in the crater responded differently. Many were scattered across the continent, and others have been sent after them; and the rest were left behind and continued the fight.

When they arrive, Keyleth is resting. Her wounds haven't closed, and while there is no blood, they look freshly carved, with exposed red flesh that hasn't healed over. "The assassin uses the same toxin that once found its way to our village. It doesn't have a historical precursor we can find, and I barely sustained an injury last time but we all lost much in the shadow of that day. They were able to recover with the use of a... challenging remedy made from the blue perenum flower." Few grow, but those that do are found in cursed landscapes -- places of strife and unfriendly beasts. The ones they collected last time were from the Gray Valley north of Zephrah, and were all used to heal wounds from the last attack -- though notably, it seems that the use of this remedy can only affect a living creature. A party, including one of Orym's sisters, went out to find this flower, but they haven't returned.

Zephrah lost over 2 dozen people in the crater. That number includes people who were teleported away who may still be alive, though.

"The last thing that I saw, before the light took us... was someone important to me. Someone I lost long ago. And I will do everything in my power to destroy those who did this. Otohan, Ludinus, Liliana -- all of them. I will tear down everything they represent, and I will see that they leave no more pain in their wake."

"We need to rally. Confusion is woven into the design. They have sown confusion for months, in big towns and small... [the Ruby Vanguard] is now emerging publicly, using the confusion and outrage of the public to bolster their efforts." She asks them to track down the group that went missing trying to find the flowers for the cure, and to bring them and the plant back.

"Find this for us, so that we may heal. Then, together, we will rain the fury of every power that Exandria has onto these absolute shitheads." Keyleth gets to swear twice a year, canon

Keyleth regards the gods as heralds of the natural world, and the general religious vibe in Zephrah is that they worship nature and the natural world -- they try to be good neighbors and hope the gods do the same in return.

"Herald" is such an interesting description to me. It paints the gods as entities that usher in, but do not overtly create, the natural world, or that stand as a mediator between the raw power of nature and its actual physical manifestation. It just feels very intentional in its meaning, when Keyleth could've used words like "harbinger," "hierophant," or something similar here.

Oh hey! the airship crashing actually did something! it took out dozens of Ruby Vanguard members and damaged the top of the malleus key.

Both Keyleth and Lida were left in the crater after the white light went off, and they saw that both Ludinus and Liliana had been teleported away. She saw a couple of the reilora come through, and they seemed to be in alliance with the Vanguard; the "nightmarish" entities can bleed. Some were hulking, some were quick, some weren't fully material, but none spoke with words.

The Gray Valley was the site of Drassig's bargain with the demon prince of indulgence, which corrupted the landscape. There are dark spirits and errant demons, but the landscape and creatures grow more dangerous under Ruidus flares (which is interesting considering that Drassig is canonically Ruidusborn).

Ashton asks one of Keyleth's advisors about the Hishari. He gives a different date for the actual event that destroyed the village -- around 20 years ago, according to him -- but otherwise there isn't much new information.

The Bells Hells go to visit Orym's mom. He grew up in a little cottagecore house with flowers everywhere, built for halflings -- so Fearne, Ashton, Laudna, and maybe Imogen all have to stoop down.

Laura: "that fantasy food sounds good IRL right now." Travis, immediately: *picks up phone, orders doordash to the studio*

.....Orym had toys made by Chetney when he was a baby. Chetney got his start in Tal'dorei. Orym never knew his father. "Did you create my childhood, Chetney?" I swear to gods, if one of the mid/endgame reveals ends up being that Chetney is Orym's father--

Ashton and Orym head into town to finally get their new outfits! Orym is looking for new leather armor (possibly enchanted), and it sounds like he wants some bracers of defense. Ashton wants to be his "best self, I want to inspire people, the look of a champion," and he pulls design references from the hole -- anti-hero chique. Legendary hero, but make it fashion. Also, Ashton is described as a "strange hunk."

"Whitestone is for lovers, Zephrah is for fuckers."

Arriving in the Gray Valley, it is a barren, monochrome, grayscale landscape covered in petrified plantlife and the smell of burning fat. They stand in the middle of a forest, but all the trees are blanched, their leaves are white and gray.

Chetney identifies that burning fat, melted wax-type smell as the smell that accompanies fiends when they cross into Exandria.

Also in this area, they find scattered bits of spherical metal that are embedded into the dirt -- helmets with skulls in them, accompanied by the rest of a body. From the dryness and the moss growth, these bodies are quite old.

I know they were singing Tom's Diner, but Centuries sounds so fucking similar--

Aww, FCG casts death ward on Orym, taking a cue from Deanna's book.

Two gloomstalkers (I think) fly over the Bells Hells. For reference, Vox Machina fought gloomstalkers at level 17, the Mighty Nein fought them at level 9, and the Bells Hells are level 10.

Chetney notes that there is an omnipresent smell of volcanic emissions, but it's coming more strongly from an area of the forest in which the trees are darker, charred, and smoking.

For the record, the text of find familiar is vague enough that it comes down to DM discretion as to whether the caster uses their own or their familiar's skill bonuses. But if you absolutely need an answer from the rules as written, then the caster would use their own bonuses, because the spell states that, when looking through their familiar's eyes, the caster gains any senses of the familiar. This implies that when they are looking through their familiar's eyes, the caster uses their own senses except as augmented by the familiar's abilities. But again, this is vague enough that it ends up being up to the DM.

The Bells Hells continue looking for the flowers. Eventually, they find evidence of movement, and as they continue they reach a swampland. This entire area is a forgotten battlefield -- swords reclaimed by nature, pieces of armor buried in the marsh. A layer of ash has coated the entire landscape, but as they continue, they eventually find a little speck of blue.

did....... did Marisha just reference do you love the color of the sky? Is this what y'all mean when you say that Tumblr has breached containment?

Chetney harvests some of the flowers they found, but as he does, two of the armored bodies they'd found rise up and start crawling from the ground. They aren't skeletal and ancient -- they're a little more recent, and they look toward a small, shadowed figure that's been sitting, watching them. Hunched low, they can barely make out clasped hands, with dark purplish skin, golden-orange eyes, horns that curve above their head. As Chetney begins to move away, it stands, and we roll initiative!

As always, there's very little to liveblog during combat, so here's our character level updates section of the liveblog post!

This episode being so close in number to C2E55 is stressing me out--

Undead, but recently deceased, bodies attack Chetney. One is male and one is female, human or half-elven in form -- either could very well be Orym's sister or the missing Ashari.

It appears that there is some kind of humanoid form inside the ribcage of this demonic entity, and it uses the "soul rend" ability to inflict almost 40 points of necrotic damage on a failed save. This is a homebrew ability, as nothing in existing published 5e materials has the "soul rend" ability. It's also worth nothing that a low chuckle accompanies the necrotic damage, heard by everyone who gets hit by it.

"I'm gonna go to my happy place, so I'm gonna rage." Ashton rolls gravity, which causes his own form to become monochromatic like the landscape. But there are a bunch of other things on top. When they attack, they use both reckless attacks and gravity well. Gravity well causes the subject of the attack to make a STR save. Ashton also uses the belt and the ring to add more die rolls to this, but AFAIK this isn't a build update, since we've seen this effect before. But it's a massive amount of damage that clearly has an impact on the creature.

With his passive perception, Orym recognizes the corpse he's fighting as a member of the Air Ashari, but one he barely knew.

Fearne casts aura of life, which is a wildfire druid spell. Usually it's a paladin spell, but it's fucking great for a druid like Fearne.

*Laudna uses hounds of ill omen* Fearne and Imogen, immediately: "I am looking respectfully!"

More of the spectral, demonic figures aparate around them, and Chetney considers putting on Ludinus' fey energy-channeling vest.

Ashton rage build update: While the space build is active, Ashton can use their reaction to gain resistance to an attack (halving the attack's damage), then can force the attacking creature (if it fails its save) to move 30ft in any direction after the attack has resolved.

These creatures are a lot like the chasmes TM9 fought (in, btw, C2E60), in that they reduce their targets' max hit points upon attacking. However, Fearne's aura of life completely shuts this off, since not only does it give creatures in the radius resistance to necrotic damage, but also prevents their HP max from being lowered.

Anyway, I maintain that FCG's spell save is way too low for this level, to the point that it legit feels like Sam is actively sabotaging the party by not increasing FCG's wisdom. FCG's spell save should be 17 or 18 by level 10.

Ashton rage build update: Imogen casts lightning bolt, and could have targeted Ashton's hammer if she wanted. It was implied that Imogen's spell would've been cast from a different space should she have targeted the hammer instead of her actual target with it.

Fearne casts daylight, and none of these undead creatures appreciate it very much. These sound similar to the sorrow-sworn that the Mighty Nein encountered in the Barbed Fields.

With a witch bolt, Imogen dispatches the last creature along with its thralls.

Within the slain figure, Orym finds the trace of a consciousness, an Ashari warrior. It takes the form of a young, elven, female figure who touches her hand to Orym's and smiles before dissipating -- not his sister. The other two are dead beyond contact, but the Bells Hells bury them respectfully.

#critical role #note watches c3 #critical role spoilers #critical role campaign 3 #critical role c3 #critical role liveblog

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sailtomarina · 1 year

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It's too late

He watched her from where he sat hidden in the corner in a privacy booth that obscured any sight or sound within. She, in turn, sat at an intimate two-top near the center of the room. Her laugh drifted his direction tinkling with cutlery against plates and the calming plinks of the live pianist.

Theo Nott—old friend, confidant, traitor—beamed at the pleasure of her joy, hand reaching out to intertwine with her own.

It should have been Draco holding her hand and making her laugh. It had been Draco in that exact role not two months ago. He had been the full recipient of her gaze and her touch and her gasps and her sighs. She had been the one to remind him of the warmth in the sun, the sweet smell of morning rain, the power of a fleeting touch of skin against skin. She taught him to live life for the experience of it again, an outlook he had forgotten back in the early days of Hogwarts before the unbearable weight of his name. Her influence on him was slow and steady—one day the world was grey, then the next he looked out at the coastline and appreciated the sunrise for the promise it brought rather than the dread he’d long expected.

And despite everything Hermione had given him, he failed her.

Five years of friendship and more than friendship, and not once did he take the next step. Nobody knew about them, not his friends, not his family. And for what? A fear that she wouldn’t fit in? Wouldn’t understand why he needed his family name and all the power that came with it even after all they had lost?

He turned down her invitations to public dinners, parties, and weddings. He only took her out to muggle locations where nobody would recognize them. He told himself he did this for her, because he didn’t deserve her and didn’t want to ruin her reputation.

The truth was that he was a coward and always had been.

When his mother told him it was time to pick a wife and take on his responsibilities as head of household, he didn’t argue, didn’t tell her about them. He didn’t hesitate to tell Hermione. It hurt, yes. He even cried a bit. But he still went through with the decision and ended their relationship that wasn’t quite a relationship.

She just smiled and wished him well.

Now here she was, sitting at a table with his childhood friend, a man with just as much responsibility and expectations to his name. It burned Draco to see Theo toss the chains aside as if they weighed nothing, as if there wouldn’t be any repercussions. He dared to look happy. His eyes relayed his feelings openly in a way no proper Pureblood should—he looked at Hermione like she made him the luckiest bloke in the world.

Draco sat at his table long after the couple left, Theo’s arm draped loosely around her waist as if it belonged there. They had ignored the stares and whispers, wholly immersed in each other. He imagined Theo inviting her home for a drink as a precursor to…more. Her hair on his pillow, his body cradled between her legs. Draco imagined it all because he had lived it all.

When he finally walked out past her chair, he noticed a familiar scarf draped across its back. Picking it up, he didn’t even consider handing it to the maitre d’ for her to retrieve later. He walked straight outside with the silver silk he’d gifted her two Christmases past clutched tightly in his hand. He’d take it home with him, a hollow reminder of all he had lost. The scarf smelled just as he remembered her, all warm spices and parchment paper. He felt as forgotten as the flimsy bit of cloth he held.

He disapparated just as Hermione reappeared around the corner and ran forward, his name on her lips a second too late.

“Was that Draco with your scarf?” Theo followed at a casual stroll behind her, hands tucked into his pockets.

“I believe so. I don’t know why he’d take it with him.”

His laugh at her statement caught her attention and she turned an inquiring look his way.

“That’s just Draco. He doesn’t know how to be happy. He’ll keep your scarf, but deny having it or that it belongs to you if anyone asks.”

As much as she hated to hear it, she knew Theo was right. His frank observations were a large part of what drew her to him in the first place. He didn’t hide truths, as uncomfortable as they could often be. More importantly, he didn’t hide her and their burgeoning relationship.

“I just really liked that one,” she sighed.

Theo stepped closer, tugging off his own wool scarf and wrapping it around her shoulders. “You can have mine.”

She buried her nose in the deep blue fabric that matched his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Why does it smell like coffee?”

“I might have spilled some and neglected to clean it,” he replied with a sheepish grin. “Let me scourgify it for you.”

Hermione danced backwards as he made to lift the scarf away. “I happen to like coffee, Theo Nott.” Her eyes sparkled up at him as she looped the wool once more around her neck.

Their backs to the restaurant, they resumed their plans for the evening. For once, Draco Malfoy had guessed right. The two drank, delighted in further conversation, and retired to bed together—silver scarves and eyes thoroughly forgotten.

WC 932 Okay, so I was feeling angsty and a little thirsty for some other Slytherins. Sorry, not sorry!

#dramione prompt #dramione #dhr fanfiction #theomione #hermione x theo #draco malfoy #hermione granger #theo nott #theodore nott

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thefirstknife · 1 year

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Something I've been thinking a lot about has been the TFS Collector's Edition book. Yeah, it's not out yet and all, however. On the preview for it on the store, you can see two pages. And the full text is readable if you zoom in and I transcribed it in full and I've been losing my mind about it for a while now.

So first and foremost, there's two books of some kind. I'm not sure what the one with signatures and symbols is: it's called "Collectio Autographorum" which would be a collection of autographs:

That's not the one I want to talk about. I want to talk about the other one, which is given a description on the TFS store page:

As the final confrontation with the Witness draws near, Eido scours the solar system looking for clues, messages, and intel on the origins of the Witness to share with Guardians. During her travels, she finds a gift to honor your service—a Light to accompany the Darkness.

It's a text from Eido! The book is called "Entelechy" and here's the two pages visible on the store:

I'll put the whole transcript under read more, but before that let me describe what the text is about because it's fascinating.

The left page starts mid-text so a lot of the context is lost. It's seemingly a conversation between two unidentified people that are designated only with a random string of letters and numbers: one is "RS6243199" and the other is "HNW047622." Several lines include uncertain translations. The two discuss the concept of the final shape.

The right page, the one in blue, is text from Eido. The first section features footnotes about parts of the text that we can't see. All three footnotes refer to something that's not visible on the preview. It includes Eido's notes about the way these two individuals talk about the final shape, Eido's confusion about what the Consensus is and finally a note about some sort of "computational assistant" that shares a naming pattern with Vex minds.

Eido continues by talking about some sort of "Scribe Archive" that might be referring to the conversation of the two unidentified individuals she's analysing (this archive is also referenced in the first footnote). She says she followed crumbs of data to a databank from a "Rainship" (ship from the House of Rain) that originally crashed on Mercury. Saint and Osiris help her get this information and the trio talks about Mercury; how it used to be a garden world, how the sun never sets there and how Eido is eager for Mercury to be returned from the Witness' grasp so that she may visit.

We don't know the timeline of this of course so we have no clue when this conversation is happening and therefore we can't say what's up with Mercury and its possible return. The only thing I'm mildly sure of is that this conversation is probably taking place around the same time period we're in now; Eido is currently travelling and investigating things in order to help prepare us for the fight in TFS. It's certainly happening after Ahsa's reveal about the Witness because down in the text Eido identifies the individuals in the text as ... members of the Witness's species. Its precursors. It's her speculation and leads her to believe it's the first ever mention of the concept of the final shape, as discussed by the people that would later turn themselves into the Witness.

Very interesting! Most of all what's interesting is the implication that Eido somehow found records of a communication log from literally the most ancient of times and the possibility that this log was being kept on an Eliksni ship that crashed on Mercury (or at least that this ship had some sort of a code to crack this communication's log; it's not very clear because again, we're missing quite a lot of context). It's an interesting possibility! And of course, a really intriguing look into what the Witness' species was like and how they talked before they became the Witness. At least two of them!

Also I have no clue what the images on the left page are. It's incredibly hard to see even if you zoom in. Because of the mention of Vex minds and Mercury, my brain immediately tried to identify it as something Vex, especially because of the colouring as well, but I genuinely don't know. It could be anything.

Something to think about while we wait! I'm super excited to see more of the stuff on the Witness' species and the conversations between these two (perhaps more) individuals in the rest of the book.

Full text below:

Left page:

...Bountiful/Swarm] on their path to their great, fatal error. It did not stop the [Conquerors/Primacy/Sovereign] from using the gifts it granted for subjugation. Are we to accept that these, too, were meant to happen? If you reject the notion that destruction can be a final shape, how are we to accept that the Gardener allowed us to make such grievous mistakes? [RS6243199] Even after all these millennia, there is much we do not understand about the Gardener. Perhaps we will not understand until we have achieved the final shape for ourselves. [HNW047622] And when we have reached the final shape, will it all make sense? Will we all be able to live in a universe where people act, as they have always acter, for the self-evident good? Where evil does not exist because we do not allow it? Where all aligned without suffering or doubt? [RS6243199] This isn't like you, my friend. I am coming to see you. All will be well. TRANSCRIPTION ENDS

Analysis by Eido:

SCRIBE NOTES * The final shape is no longer described with a sensory semantic cluster (c.f. SCRIBE ARCHIVE X1-2-4A), but HNW and RS continue to use that structure to describe other concepts. Potentially reflective of semantic narrowing? ** Given the terminology, this Consensus might have been some sort of governing body, or a source of philosophical guidance. *** From this context, some sort of computational assistant? There appears to be some etymological overlap with the names of Vex Minds. Something to investigate later, perhaps! My cross-check for the identification code in SCRIBE ARCHIVE X1-2-4A proved quite fruitful. The trail of datacrumbs led me to a databank retrieved from a Rainship originally downed on Mercury! The Saint and Osiris were kind enough to share it with me, along with a pot of tea. Our conversation was most illuminating. I understand that Mercury was a scorched wasteland before the Great Machine's arrival. When it had finished, Humans could walk unprotected on its surface. What wonders the Great Machine can work! I can only hope that Mercury will return from the Witness's clutches, released as Titan was, so that I may see it for myself. I hear that, thanks to Sol engulfing its sky, one could study without pause... or at least until exhaustion proved greater than the desire to learn! Perhaps I could catch up on some light reading... In any case, the concept of the final shape has worn many faces. From your encounters with the Disciples of the Witness we know that they all had their own understanding of this concept – that they all saw what they wished to see in it. But this communications log, here, appears to predate all of them. If I am correct, and the parties communicating are among the Witness's precursors, then this may be the concept's original form. We can see in this log that HNW and RS, at least, were preoccupied with the concept of a higher purpose. They sought...

#destiny 2 #the final shape #eido #witness #long post

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ejenvs3000w24 · 7 months

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Finding Music in Nature

Hey everyone, welcome back:) This week I am going to dive into analyzing nature interpretation through music.

Where is music in nature? I think in order to answer this question we must first understand what defines music to be considered music. The Oxford dictionary defines music as “the art of combining various sounds to produce beauty of form, harmony, and expression of emotion” and this ties nicely with Gray, P. et al (2001) definition; music can evoke “emotional, social, cultural, and cognitive responses from patterns of sound varying in pitch and time”. I think the main takeaway from these two definitions shows how music is simply any form of frequency loud enough to be heard, that in some way or not elicits some type of emotional response. This thought can be backed up from the thoughts of Silene (2021), who states, “when we hear music we first get a feeling and then thoughts''. When I first read that quote, it made me realize how true it was and how many times that happens to me when I’m in nature. And so, I think music in nature is found in any audible frequencies whether that be leaves blowing in the wind, the sound of rain hitting the floor, or the abundance of wildlife calling throughout the night, that makes you conscious take time out of your day to pause and listen; to feel before you think.

A well-timed hike and bright sunshine = listening to the amazing sounds of lake trout splashing their way up stream

Where is nature in music? Similar to many factors of life, I believe nature is a precursor for the creation of music. The latter can not be perceived until the former creates tangible vessels for which the latter can be heard from. This thought can be explained from a more literal standpoint to a subjective one, i.e., music without words could not have been created without the tangible resources of nature (literally). While subjectively, nature provides inspiration of sounds that can be translated through an instrument or voice. Gray, P. et al (2001) references how closely tied a modern-day orchestra is to the ambient sounds of an environment; “the voice of each creature (or flora) has its own frequency, amplitude and duration…to which occupies a unique niche among other musicians”. I think this quote sums up nicely how nature is found in music, each organism is its own unique instrument, some can be grouped together but have different pitches and forms, similar to the plethora of brass instruments producing different pitches and sounds, such as baritones and trumpets.

youtube

While speaking of nature and music, I can’t help but think of times when music has enhanced my own experience with nature. One song that immediately pops into my mind when I think of being immersed in nature is “Pure Imagination” sung by Gene Wilder. At first glance, the song does not necessarily reference nature, but it is the context of where I listened to it that matters. It was on a warm summer's night, accompanied by four of my closest friends, lying down under a flowering crabapple tree at 2am in the morning. The combination of my environment just transformed my experience listening to this song. Feelings of nostalgia, being a kid again, not having a worry in the world but focusing on the warm summer air and the fragrant perfumes of the crabapple flowers. I will forever remember that feeling of pure bliss as the music and ground coarse through my body.

References:

Gray, P. M., Krause, B., Atema, J., Payne, R., Krumhansl, C., & Baptista, L. (2001). The Music of Nature and the Nature of Music. Science, 291(5501), 52. https://link-gale-com.subzero.lib.uoguelph.ca/apps/doc/A69270354/AONE?u=guel77241&sid=bookmark-AONE&xid=fb9366a8

Hooykaas, A. (2024). Unit 7: Nature interpretation through music. University of Guelph. https://courselink.uoguelph.ca/d2l/le/content/858004/viewContent/3640021/View

Oxford languages and google - english. Oxford Languages. (n.d.). https://languages.oup.com/google-dictionary-en/

Silene, A. (2021, February 20). Spiritual values of protected areas of Europe: Workshop proceedings. [pages 129-132] https://www.silene.ong/en/documentation-centre/spiritual-values-of-protected-areas-of-europe-workshop-proceedings#Proceedings_Spiritual%20Values_PAs_Europe.pdf

#nature interpretation #Youtube

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reijnders · 1 year

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BACK ON THAT GRIND!

Now that my summer has started, I can get back to posting worldbuilding and conlanging more frequently >:)

This piece in particular is for the stuff I do on the side for Disney Fairies, and depicts the Neverbeast, along with a poem about it. See under the cut for more lore on both!

During the days when this statue was new, or at the very least not a ruin, it had three brother, at each corner of a vast plaza used for an ancient precursor to the Pixie Hollow Games. This was long before fairies found the Great Tree and regained the power of flight through the abundance of magic Dust it produced, let alone the events of the movies or even the existence of Queen Clarion herself. Unlike the modern fairies, the fairies of the distant past were more aware of the various cycles of their world, and both loved and respected creatures such as the Neverbeast who protected the island from harm.

Aligning with the events of Tinkerbell and the Legend of the Neverbeast. the poem states the legend depicted in the pictograms show in the movie. The Neverbeast, known to our fairies as Gruff, wakes from his hibernation every thousand years to build four towers, one in each season, to draw in the lightning from a Hollow-ending storm that surfaces at the same time, allowing him to swiftly collect it and reverse the effects of the storm. This all occurs due to the green comet passing by Neverland every thousand years as well, and in my own lore, I've decided that the pictograms are something even older than these statues, which is why they had trouble deciphering it.

Moving on to the linguistics side of things, I'll now provide some cultural context to the language of the fairies.

Line One: The usage of the verb 'ŕeī-en' or 'to pour' is significant to how fairies view time. Their original writing systems are vertical, and this, alongside them being creatures of flight, means that they view time with the past above them, and the future below them. By describing the years as pouring out, it not only highlights the passage of time, but also makes it known that this is a reoccurring event.

Line Two: This line is one that varies between the four original statues, each comparing two sets of dichotomies. This tower compares light and dark, and life and death. While the other three are lost to time in my canon, their comparisons are as follows: grass and rain, stone and sand; mountain and valley, bird and mouse; wing and tail, head and heart.

Line Three: The word used for storm, 'eŕēipe', refers specifically to a violent or tropical storm.

Line Four: The word used for green/verdant, 'lipe', is also a word used to refer to vines, creepers, and thorns, and thus gives the color a dangerous feeling.

Line Five: Centered and Pixie Hollow(though here it does not refer to the actual Hollow in the movies, so its more of an umbrella term for the main place fairies live at any given point in time) are the same word. Do with that as you will. Like with green, the word used for clouds 'ripīēriǹ' means dark and dangerous clouds specifically.

Line Six: Doom can be translated as many other things, such as mass death, cataclysm, and fate.

Here is my initial sketch:

This is not a human language, and I wanted to make it so that, like in the movies, when pitched up enough it sounds similar to ringing bells. The fairies being unintelligible to humans in the movies was my initial inspiration for making this language. Here is the poem's IPA for those that may be interested. If anyone would like an explanation of grammar feel free to DM.

pɨe.lɨen d͡ʒɨ.d͡ʒɨ reb d͡ʒɨ lɨn reɨ.en lɨe.tiɲ d͡ʒi.bɵ.lɨ.lɵib lɵi.ti.leb d͡ʒe.bɨ.lɨ be.lɨe.lɵeŋ e.rɵi.lɨ.pe di te.li:.ɵɲ lɨ.ɵn pei.pi.lɨɲ li.pi.pe de.li.tɨɵ.ɹɵ rie.pi.ɹeɲ di e.bi.len ɹi.d͡ʒɨe.pɨɵ.ɹiŋ d͡ʒie.pɨ.be pie.ɵn pi.pɵ.ɹe:.tɵ lɨ.in di be.de ɲe:.ɹie.bi.lib lɵ i.pi.bi.tin

BONUS movie still mode activated

#that there art #disney fairies #conlang #worldbuilding #the neverbeast #rire #my canon #fairies #so i fully worked like 1 BILLION hours on this #but im super proud of it!!!!! and ive been rolling around ancient fairy culture ideas in my head for e o n s now #so also glad to finally present something!!!!

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jiessicas · 4 months

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some notes on girlblogging

deep appreciation of bell hooks as a girlblogger [in piecing together her spiritual practice, she writes that she takes bits and pieces from different practices]

caroline busta’s piece in document magazine from 2021 lives in my head rent free [Instead of attempting to dismantle the master’s house using the master’s tools, it’s more something like: Let’s pool crypto to book the master’s Airbnb and use the tools we find there to forge a forest utopia that the master could never survive.]

ace sparkly kat's / adrienne maree brown's / alina stefanscu's / chia amisola's / olivia mckayla ross' prolific archival practices

substack scares me / i don’t know how to write on substack though i enjoy reading others’ (i mustered one post from fall 2022/winter 2023 & summer 2022)........ & this piece by terry nguyen on girlblogging is so good (its limits, its situatedness)

it’s mother’s day; continually thinking of EEAAO- that reconciliation after estrangement because of relational shifts made between the mother daughter; also thinking of discourse & how people were split on how realistic and/or insufferable this relationship was - it made me think of a real sort of an illusory learned helplessness that (not exclusively but whose experience i am familiar with) asian american daughters carry from growing up

in a generous reading/workshop, dana suggested the futurity of girlhood in a line i wrote; elsewhere, i wonder about how we give our childhoods futures, as we live with our child selves, how the ways we care for our children indicate how a society stewards its future

anything bell hooks has written about girlhood and children and the meditative distance between her self and ideas via the pen name she adopted

kaitlin m chan on the stakes - on a predecessor to girlblogging, collaging the overlaps between lived experiences, embodied reality, social/political/structural/institutional power - developing curiosity around others’ realities and interior worlds - locating oneself in this personal canon thru this process - how one’s personal canon becomes a chorus

the personal, circuitous routes we take in locating ourselves / desire paths / the sylvia plath quote i used for my senior quote - to speak deeply with anyone

spent the last year essay texting, and addressing public groups in in-person settings [facilitating workshops, readings, speaking] -- this was very Character Building For Me [i'm chasing the humanities based, discussion-based learning communities i didn't let myself have in undergrad]

there are so many different registers i want to speak in, simultaneously, on the internet; i want it to feel as seamless as i feel when i move between different social spaces in a given day and find myself naturally shifting with where i am

girlblogging as a practice in making the weather… the conditions for precipitating … girlcondensation as a practice in raining down, decisively

thank u to kazumi w whom i find lots of welcomed condensation <3

(*douglas kearney*! i feel sheepish about this typo)

i forgot the tinyletter sunset date, sooooo i recompiled my subscriber list from old tinyletter notification emails, and sent out a lil email that was a precursor to the kernel launch 🫧

noticing the different kinds of centering that occur when i can take my time to speak (texting), and when i am placed in a time to speak (talking)

#girlblogging

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mildkleptomania · 9 months

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Does Tomes have any maps so far? (Quality doesn't matter, or accuracy if theyre in universe made maps)

I have a very vague and rough layout of where various places are in relation to each other, but nothing is concretely laid out; the main exception is that, like Earth, the primary setting in Tomes is on a planet, and there are two main inhabited sets of continents (an Old World and a New World) separated by two main oceans

That said, I do have a bunch of places that are named and arranged in relation to each other! The Old World is more built out, so I'll focus on that; the ocean to the west of the Old World (geographically equivalent to the Atlantic) once hosted a civilization of giants known in modern times as the Sea Titans, and the ocean is currently named after them, making it the Titanic Ocean (naming it after the big boat was completely accidental, but I like the sound of "Titanic Ocean" enough to keep it; additionally, as a fun fact, in the setting the Sea Titans are what the metal titanium is named after); I have yet to name the ocean geographically equivalent to the Pacific, but I'll think of something eventually probably

On the west coast of the Old World is the Kyrian region, which is where the obligatory Fantasy Setting Ancient Precursor Civilization was centered, until it exploded, and currently the northern part is where Kayendell is, one of the setting's major imperial powers. Further south from there is Great Ainam, a huge city found in an old flooded impact crater, so parts of it are full of canals; Ainam, the country Great Ainam is capital of, has a longstanding feud with a country named Jankarra, which is closer to Kayendell but more inland, and they've warred on and off with each other over the rich farmland and quarries between them basically since they were established. Jankarra is possibly the most technologically advanced country in the setting, and both Jankarra and Ainam are also major imperial powers, but they're too focused on feuding to be as quite as active about it as Kayendell, which is a neutral party in their conflict.

Further further inland, nestled close enough to the Jankarra-Ainam contested territory to constantly know about what's going on there but not actually part of it, is Darkmire, a barony that has pretty much uncontested ownership of a cursed swamp nobody important actually wants, but they sure do tough it out and live there; they might be close to kind of an inland sea, with part of the swamp being like a river delta? Unsure

Somewhere in the center of the Old World is a big mountain range, with at least one huge dormant volcano in it that used to be home to the Firesmith, the setting's resident god of flames and metalwork and stuff; very much a Hephaestus type god, with the exception that the Firesmith is a enormous mechanical vaguely spider-shaped kaiju of a god, while Hephaestus was more of a person-guy shaped god. The Firesmith's gone now, but the limbs of its shed exoskeletons sprawled across the dead volcano would probably be visible from orbit if anybody could reliably get there; its presence there might also have caused the mountain range to be named the "Pyrachnene Mountains" after it? Exact name is getting workshopped, but I'm pronouncing this version of the name "pie-RACK-neen", possibly pie-RACK-neens to refer to the whole mountain range; the mountains are definitely inhabited by Firesmith worshipers, which live in little monastery adjacents and such, making a small fortune off of being Basically The Fantasy Blacksmithing And Craftsmaking Hat Culture and the only people who are exporting large quantities of high quality steel, among other things

In the Pyrachnenes's rain shadow lie the Tefriti drylands; most of their water supply comes from rivers that originate in the Pyrachnenes, so the drylands's terrain ranges from dry savanna to full-on sandy desert, and most of the people that live in the drylands are either nomadic or live on the riverbanks, with the former facilitating trade between the latter and their neighboring regions, and the latter living relatively comfortably off of riverbank farming

On the east coast of the Old World lies the Jinhari peninsula, which is blocked off on most sides by ocean and on the sides that aren't by the Pyrachnenes and the harsher parts of the Tefriti drylands; this has ended up being advantageous in the long run, since the ocean allows a lot of sea-based trade routes and almost nobody wants to attempt a land assault through mountains and deserts, but was a bit of a struggle in some respects until then, since while the peninsula was good for farming and for copper mining, allowing relatively cheap manufacture of some kinds of magic item, the local iron deposits were sparse and low quality, and anything to make bronze and brass and such with had to be imported via Tefriti traders, who also didn't like trekking through the mountains and deserts to get there, especially not with large quantities of metal intended to get melted down

(this said, the main language spoken by the Jinhari people shares an alphabet and a common ancestor with most of the prominent Tefriti languages, distinct from the languages descended from the Kyrian language, so the two cultures clearly did, and still do, mingle fairly regularly)

Also, the peninsula gets monsoons!

Somewhere on the western side of the New World is a big, Amazon-esque rainforest, which I haven't strictly fleshed out a whole lot, but it's definitely inhabited, and due to their relative proximity, their main interaction with Old World powers is with Jinhar, the setting's fourth main imperial power; after failing repeatedly to militarily conquer the rainforest peoples and taking a few centuries off to have more than one civil war, Jinhar has now adopted a new, more hypothetically peaceful and diplomatic approach to interacting with the rainforest peoples, and time will tell how this attempt turns out

There are also a bunch of little citystates and smaller nations dotted around, but most of them are allied with/subjects of one of the imperial powers; Darkmire probably technically falls into this category, but whoever it's allied to gives little enough of a shit about what it does that it can basically do whatever it wants short of actually attack somebody

Most independent citystates and nations with no concrete political ties to one of the imperial powers probably exist mostly in the New World, but even then, several of the imperial powers are actively expansioning their political influence, with one of the main remaining prominent neutrals being the Pyrachnene Firesmith worshipers, who sell crafts and steel to everybody relatively equally

Another prominent neutral are the descendants of the Sea Titans, now colloquially called raftfolk; while mostly living away from their ancestral ruins and diminished from their heyday, they do still live out in the Titanic Ocean, on boats and rafts and big pontoons and such, doing fishing and whaling and hunting sea monsters like sirens and krakens (not quite unlike how you'd hunt whales). Of course, the Kayendellic navy does still police those waters regardless of who technically owns them, but most of what they do is pirate hunting and attempting to suppress non-trade activity from their direct imperial competitors, so the majority of the raftfolk are willing to at least put up with it, if not be happy about it

#asks #rambling #tomes setting #worldbuilding #I FOUND IT #I THOUGHT THIS POST WAS D E A D #LOST TO THE DEPTHS OF TUMBLR'S JUNK DATA

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scotianostra · 1 year

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On May 8th 1854 Captain Robert Barclay Allardice died.

This is a great wee story about a very remarkable man, Robert Barclay Allardice has been called The Father of Pedestrianisma strange title, but when you learn his story you will maybe understand it better.

He was born in August 1777 at Ury House just outside Stonehaven Aberdeenshire to a family of athletes that in the past were practicing bull wrestling, carried flour sacks in their teeth, and uprooted trees with their bare hands. Robert Barclay Allardice was schooled in England and attended Cambridge University where he often gambled on the performances of other men, but also would often back himself to perform incredibly demanding physical challenges.

He took part in a number of bizarre pedestrian contests. In 1800 he backed himself to accomplish 90 miles within 21 hours, but he failed due to heavy rain and mostly because he caught a cold. He lost a thousand guineas, but didn’t give up and increased the stake to 2,000 guineas, and lost again. He backed himself again to the tune of 5000 guineas to perform the same feat and finally won with an hour to spare.

He won his first competition when he walked for 110 miles in 19 hours and 27 minutes. He also walked 90 miles in 20 hours and 22 minutes, the same year. In 1802 he walked 64 miles in 10 hours and in 1805, between breakfast and dinner, he walked 72 miles.

Among his many bizarre pedestrian contests, there was one when he walked 110 miles over bad roads in 19 hours and another in 1808 when he walked 130 miles without any sleep for two nights.

However, he made his epic walk at Newmarket in 1809 when he walked a mile in each of the 1000 consecutive hours. This meant that he was supposed to walk a mile per hour, every hour, for 42 days and nights. It all started on June 1st, 1809, and was completed on July 12th.

He walked his first mile in 14 minutes and 54 seconds and his time averaged 21 minutes and 4 seconds by the last week. During this period of 42 days and nights over 10,000 people watched the event. He completed the feat on 12th July in front of an enormous crowd that gathered to cheer him.

It is said that during this period he lost around 15kg, but didn’t regret since he won a large purse for his efforts.

During the Napoleonic War, he was commissioned in the army where he adopted the name, Captain Barclay. In 1809 he served as aide-de-camp to the Marquess of Huntly on the ill-fated Walcheren campaign, starting out just 5 days after the completion of the 1000-mile feat.

He was also interested in boxing and became trainer and sponsor of Tom Cribb, the bare knuckles Champion of the World in 1807 and 1809.

Im May 1854 Captain Barclay, the father of pedestrianism, a precursor to racewalking, was kicked by a horse in and died several days later from paralysis..

#scotland #scottish #athlete #gambler #walker #endurance sports #history

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versatileginger · 10 months

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SYNERGY | INTRO

Oberyn Martell x OC (Elara)

Warnings: AU, violence, weapons, mature themes, murder, everything you'd find in in Game of Thrones.

Summary: In the embrace of existence, the brilliance of light finds its depth in the shadows, and conversely, the obscurity of darkness discovers its essence in the radiant dance of symbiotic contrast.

A/N: And thus it begins..

In the frigid embrace of dawn's shadows, Elara's alarm, a shrill harbinger of monotony, tears through the cocoon of night. With the weariness of a thousand routines clinging to her, she reluctantly extracts herself from the dwindling warmth of her bed, limbs protesting against the relentless pull of another day. The bathroom, a witness to her perpetual metamorphosis, becomes the stage for her despondent ballet.

Her movements, mechanical and detached, guide her through the motions. Dark red strands cascade like forgotten aspirations as she prepares to face a world painted in grayscale. In the muted glow, a delicate layer of makeup becomes a futile attempt to conceal the exhaustion etched beneath her eyes. The closet, a repository of uninspired choices, relinquishes dark jeans, a nondescript grey t-shirt, and the obligatory leather jacket—a uniform of resignation. A baseball cap crowns her ensemble, a feeble shield against the relentless onslaught of the outside world.

This ritual, once a dance with promise, has devolved into a monotonous symphony played out too many times. Breakfast is reduced to the perfunctory gulp of a Red Bull, a liquid lifeline in a world devoid of vibrancy. Beyond the walls of her apartment, a dismal scene unfolds—the rain, a relentless torrent of forgotten dreams, drenching the world in melancholy.

The allure of a real job and the excitement of office life, once promising, have given way to a withered existence. In the field of sales, her days are a mechanical march through time, compliments falling on deaf ears, and a forced smile unable to breach the depths of her weary eyes. The conclusion of each day is a scripted routine—home, eat, bed—a haunting cycle that repeats like a tired echo.

Turning a desolate corner, she steps into an alley, undeniably shady but undoubtedly quicker. Her gaze scans forward, revealing a figure stationed at the alley's end. Confidence radiates from his stance, sharp features implying strength concealed in shadow. A fleeting glance is all he spares before disappearing, intentionally evading further observation. Just a few steps more, and a cloudiness descends upon her mind—an all-too-familiar precursor to the moment one realizes they're slipping into sleep.

In the heart of the alley, where shadows intertwine with the echoes of her wearied footsteps, she surrenders. Her body succumbs to the inexorable embrace of unconsciousness.

At the desolate terminus of the alley, Oberyn stood, a sinister silhouette against the muted backdrop of shadows. The time had come for Elara, chosen by the scouts days ago, to be collected. As the right hand of the cell's leader in this city, Oberyn held a position of authority, a harbinger of ominous forces operating in the clandestine corners of the urban labyrinth.

Beside him, Lucian, a newcomer shrouded in uncertainty but wanting to prove himself, was present for a purpose—to ensure the subject's procurement unfolded according to plan. The alley, chosen strategically for its familiarity to Elara, became the stage for their sinister operation. Oberyn, making sure Lucian did what he was told, stood ready for damage control, a necessity when handling delicate matters like these.

Elara's form materialized at the entrance of the alley, an unwitting player in a meticulously orchestrated scheme. Oberyn recognized the calculated precision—they had anticipated her routine, exploiting the predictable path she took to work. Now, it was imperative to distance himself, and let Lucian do his thing and execute the extraction. In the realm of clandestine operations, every moment spent not in control was a risk, and Oberyn aimed to minimize those risks.

As the shadows tightened their grip, Elara moved further into the alley, unknowingly stepping into the carefully woven web of their plans. It was a successful day, a dark triumph for the cell that operated with ominous precision in the unseen recesses of the city's underbelly. The whispers of the alley, the echoes of their intentions, heralded the completion of another clandestine chapter, leaving behind only a sense of foreboding in the air.

MAIN MASTERLIST SYNERGY MASTERLIST CHAPTER 1

#oberyn x oc #oberyn x ofc #oberyn fanfiction #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x oc #oberyn martell x ofc #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell fanfic #got au #au #versatileginger writes #versatilegingers masterlist

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weaselandfriends · 2 years

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Three completely unrelated questions: ever heard of interactive fiction (parser games like Zork etc), and if you have, what's your opinion on it? Also, you mentioned a Pokemon fanfic ages ago and do you have plans to write that because Pokemon is my obsession and I would read the hell out of a Pokemon story if you wrote one. Also, is Sister from CxC and that Chateau de whatever vampire anime she keeps talking about inspired in any way by the Marquis de Sade?

Question 1: This blog, believe it or not, used to post exclusively about Homestuck, so yes, I have some familiarity with interactive fiction and parser games. I actually knew about Zork long before Homestuck, mainly because when I was 12 I was a huge Nintendo fan who would read books about the history of video games and Zork would always show up sooner or later. Now have I actually played a parser game? No.

In college I took a senior seminar on interactive fiction. This was a very funny course that included the David Cage classic Heavy Rain. I remember the professor bringing in a PlayStation and having us actually play the game; all the students made fun of the terrible voice acting and inhuman characters, and by the end the professor, looking genuinely hurt, said "I thought it was a good story..."

In this class, I wrote a paper that was actually about the original Super Mario Bros, arguing mainly that even in the complete absence of traditional narrative (text, video, etc.) any video game is actually interactive fiction, in which the player's phenomenological experience of the game shapes their understanding of the game's narrative. Consider the way a first time player would play Super Mario Bros, moving tepidly and carefully, stopping to hit every block, and dying frequently, and then compare that to an experience player or a speedrunner who will blaze through stages at full speed, ignoring most obstacles and reaching the end in a few moments. The understanding of who Mario is as a character is significantly different for these two players, and in fact the absence of traditional narrative elements makes this interactivity even more pronounced compared to a game like, say, The Last of Us, where character is much more strongly enforced by the authorial entity via traditional narrative elements.

Some time after I wrote this essay, Dark Souls would get popular and give everyone else the same idea I had, with its "environmental storytelling" that stripped out traditional narrative elements without sacrificing narrative itself. But I think you can see the precursor to Dark Souls' style in a lot of older games.

Question 2: Very odd coincidence, I actually started thinking about that Pokemon fanfic idea again recently, prompted by the ask I got in which I talked about my idea for a professional League of Legends sports story. Since Players stole my thunder in that regard, I started thinking of ways I could put my rather extensive esports knowledge to use for a story, and remembered my old Pokemon fanfic idea.

I always liked the near-future near-utopian world of Pokemon, where there seems to be little or no scarcity and 75% of the populace does nothing except pursue hobbies of interest. I'd like to do a serious exploration of what a world is like that encourages 10 year olds to drop out of school and attempt to become professional sports stars, without verging into edge. This is a world where it's *fine* for 10 year olds to do that, mainly because widespread, versatile, and even skilled Pokemon labor means there's less need for a large and robust human workforce. So what are these pros like, having left home at 10, spending their youths tromping through wilderness, their only significant social interaction being with what are essentially animals? All while training to excel in a competitive sport that requires an encyclopedic breadth of knowledge about all the diverse Pokemon species, movepools, statistical spreads, strategies, etc.? Obviously they're going to be total social weirdos. I think it'd be a great premise for a sports story to focus on a big, international tournament where these utter nerds come down from their mountaintops and are suddenly hoisted up as the exemplars of human society, imbued with instant celebrity despite their inability to function in any social setting.

So, to answer your question, it's back on the table. I'm pretty sure after CQ my next story will be a relatively short horror story set at a prestigious all-girls prep school in New England, but after that anything's possible.

Question 3: Sister's favorite anime, Le Chateau de Diodati, is primarily modeled on Le Portrait de Petit Cossette, a 2004 gothloli OVA directed by Madoka director Akiyuki Shinbo. Petit Cossette isn't hentai itself, but Shinbo was also directing several visually bizarre hentai OVAs around the same time, which I rolled into the Diodati fictional narrative. The name "Diodati" comes from the Villa Diodati, a Swiss manor once used by Lord Byron and the Shelleys, famous for being the location where Mary Shelley first created the story of Frankenstein. Diodati is also an Italian name; the Comtesse's full name, Marie von Diodati, is a nod to the tripartite cultural heritage of Switzerland (French, German, and Italian), and meant to contrast Marc Elmarghichi, who is of Moroccan descent. Sister/the Comtesse's appearance is modeled off Lambdadelta from Umineko and Shinobu Oshino from Monogatari (another Shinbo anime!).

The only work by de Sade I've read is Justine, and while the unabashed degeneracy of that work was in the back of my mind while writing CxC, it never manifested into any explicit or implicit reference. I have something of an aversion to de Sade, not because of anything he wrote, but because one of my least favorite novels, Thomas Pynchon's Vineland, has a horrible pun where a gardening business is called Marquis de Sod.

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