#royal seer.

[dragon-in-the-woods]

S/I Q&A

Original: https://www.tumblr.com/s-e-l-f-s-h-i-p/188287128885/si-ask-meme

Proship/variants DNI

Doin this for my Legacy of Kain self-insert, Shadow.

What is your s/i's name & pronouns? Shadow, he/vamp/bats/cats

How similar is your s/i to you? Are they a carbon copy, completely different or a mix of the two? He represents a lot of my emotions, traumas, experiences, etc. Physically, he's a bit like me- pale, chubby, dark hair. Otherwise in that regard, he's an 'idealized' version of myself- aesthetics I find pleasing and whatnot.

Does your s/i have a full backstory yet? Or is it still in the works? If it's done can we see it? A full backstory, not much written down.

How did your s/i feel when they first met your f/o(s)? How do they feel about them now? When Shadow first met Kain, he was afraid at first... but somehow the two simply clicked. Shadow adores Kain with his entire being- in many ways, he owes Kain. Kain saved him from many demons, both metaphorically and literal.

Do you speak about your s/i in first or third person? Shadow is me, me is Shadow.

Has your s/i undergone any design/story changes since they were first made? A few, but the primary premise has remained the same- smol but fierce husband to Kain.

Give us 3 random facts abt your s/i! He's a goth, through and through. He's unable to sire other vampires due to his unfortunate experiences as a fledgling leaving him with 'weak' blood. He has separation anxiety, primarily with Kain. But his other safe people are always there to support him.

Does your s/i have any kind of powers? Yes! A variety of dark gifts from vampirism (standard gifts, blending in with the darkness, seer abilities). Many magical practices he's learned over the years. And, due to the falling of the Pillars, the Dimension's balance is wayyy off kilter. So sometimes he pops in and out of the Spectral Realm, very confused about the entire experience.

Does your s/i have any hobbies that you don't have? Shadow paints! I mean, I do occasionally paint on some occasions, but he's actually dedicated time to learning the entire practice. He's an oil painter, and the drawbacks don't affect him much as he's a vampire.

How many s/i's do you have? Do you use the same s/i for multiple f/os or make completely different ones? Depends on the media and what I'm feeling.

Does your s/i have one outfit they're always seen in or multiple? Mostly gothic outfits, but the primary one I picture him in: black tunic-like shirt with a red corset-like vest, leather pants, black leather boots, and a black lace caplet. (Can you tell what my favorite color is? lol)

Can we see a picture of your s/i?

Would you ever want to cosplay as your s/i? Yes!

Does your s/i get jealous easily? ...yes. Very much so.

Does your s/i interact with any other self shippers s/i's? Yes! Working on a verse with my best friends @monkie-keebs @the-deej-monkie

[arctic-rising]

draw a dragon a day 29: an old dragon

dawn is the first imperial i ever bought on fr! she's still got her iridescent/shimmer/gembond genes and has been around for forever. she turned 8 this month and is still, imo, one of the prettiest dragons i have :D

@dragonaday-fr

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

Three Cursed Princes

*these won't be actual fics, this is just conceptual - I only wrote the synopses

Prince Yeonjun has known almost his entire life of the prophecy with his name. Written mere months after his birth, bringing shadow to cloud his parents' joy, the royal couple's most trusted advisor and skilled seer proclaimed that when the prince found his truest love, it would be at the price of a great sorrow. Whose sorrow, the seer could not determine, nor did she see a name of the one who completed the other half of the fate - the truest love. The tale of the prince's destiny was well known throughout the kingdom, with many parents from respected families discouraged from their aspirations of merging with the royal family through marriage by the warnings of the seers. Despite Yeonjun being the only child of the king and queen due to unfortunate circumstances, they pardoned him from his duty of carrying on the family line, wholeheartedly believing the fate they were sold. As a young man, Yeonjun himself only half believes the fortune that has been attached to his name, following him even in his years of childhood. But when he begins to fall for a girl from a neighbouring kingdom, breaking all the rules to sneak out at night to see her and quickly form a connection, he can't stop hearing the cursed story in his mind. 

Though they know they should stay away from each other, though they know the predicted doom hanging over their heads if they give in to their attraction, they just can't bear to be apart. Will they be able to live with the cost of their love?

Prince Beomgyu is about to marry the love of his life. A happy future lies ahead and the couple are excited to begin it. But when the prince is woken in the middle of the night by his distressed council, informing him of a horrible curse that has been placed, threatening to plunge the kingdom into eternal impenetrable darkness, Beomgyu must choose between his own happiness and the safety of his people. He’s horrified to learn that he must sacrifice all memory of the love he holds so dear in order to break the curse that looms over their heads, growing ever closer; he will not recognise her face, her name, all feelings he has ever held for her erased. Her memory, however, will remain untarnished. Feeling he has no choice, the prince agrees, bolting to the other side of the castle where his fiance is staying to see her one last time before the spell takes effect.

Can love break a curse, even if the one you love has no recollection of it?

One should never anger the gods—but the gods like to hide in plain sight. Prince Kai hates hunting, but his uncle, his sole guardian, makes him join the hunting party as it's a long standing royal tradition. While he doesn't enjoy hunting animals, he has been trained in archery since he was young and is very skilled in the sport, never missing a target. On the trip he is pressured into shooting a deer, which it turns out is truly the god of the woods. As penance, the prince is cursed. Kai knows not what the curse entails, and lives in fear of the day he finds out. His uncle scours the land for someone who could divine the details of the magic placed that day, but to no avail; all they can do is wait to see it play out. But I can tell you, reader, the nature of the curse: when the prince finds his true love – and he will — the first kiss they share will draw her into the magic that binds their fate, and she will be forced to spend her days changing between human and doe, with the prince compelled to chase and hunt her against his own will, his own heart, for the rest of their time on earth.

Can Prince Kai find a way to break the spell before it drives him to lose the one he loves?

[a-whispering-echo]

The story of The Royal Mage - UE Dust log

(im copy pasting some of the info i have written on my AO3 about these characters, because i have a bigger following here, and i know some people here dont use Ao3, so-) TW: gaslighting, death of loved ones, torture , murder and accusations of murder, classism and racism, and a character who covers their head taking off their veil ( not a Muslim character) if there's anything else, i'm so sorry please tell me!

WATER TYPE

"The Halfway-Unhinged Mage"

Dust - (legally Navarø (Romanized) - Meaning Fallen powder) Half Elf Wizard Rouge -> Wizard Age: 47 (20-ish in human age) Height; 5'2 Gender: (trans) Male he/him

His perception is so high he sees enemies that "Aren't there."

Was once the royal mage, and executioner.

if he had to choose between his scarf and his life, he'll choose the scarf.

thin - Horror says too thin

While working, he was ordered for a bi-monthly check up with the Seer, and they prophesied that he would bring about the death of his brother.

He was immediately imprisoned and tortured on suspicion of plans to murder and treason. And under months of torture, he went mad.

Nüu, hoping to escape his fate, goes to Dusts work room, hoping that he may have made some sort of potion or spell for immortality. To his glee, Dust had a potion in the work for what he believed to be immortality.

Dust wrote all his spells in a language not Common or Dûvan (the native languages to the island.) A version of Old Elvish, taught to him by his father.

Unfortunately, Nüu had mistranslated his brothers words, mistaking "Painful Death" as "No Death" and dies slowly and agonisingly.

When Dust hears the news of his brothers death, he breaks out of jail in rage, and forces as much raw magic into his body as physically possible, in hopes of restring him. It works - in a sense.

He drags Nüu's body to a small local island, before he is recaptured. As the potion Nüu has drank had traces of Dusts magic on it, and knowing the prophesy, they believed he had killed him purposefully, and, under torture, he was manipulated into thinking he had.

As punishment for his supposed murder, his hair is cut (a huge thing for an elven culture, as elf hair is considered linked to their magic, and takes ages to grow, to cut is short is betraying all that is magical of you) and he has all of his potions tested on him in retaliation.

One of these potions makes him endure the feeling of his own death over and over, and for a large portion of time, he genuinely believes himself to be dead.

Until another one is tested, making his magical ability skyrocket, and he breaks out again, kills his captures, sets fire to the castle, killing the queen, grabs what is left of his notes and runs.

Due to this potion, his magic is completely unlimited, but he refuses to use it after what happened the last time.

While he says he doesn't use magic, he's so used to it that he uses it for small things all the time subconsciously. Strengthening the shadows around his hood, making sure Nüu's scarf doesn't come loose, deepening his voice to a more masculine tone, and hiding his chest.

He's still being searched for. He's very aware of this, and is terrified of what will happen to him when they do.

Nüu's body will never decay, and is kept in the mausoleum Dust dragged him to. He is very much dead and cannot be revived, but his body will remain forever due to the large amount of magic Dust pushed into his body.

The ghost is real. A mix between the actual Nüu, and a manifestation of Dusts overcharging magic, which slowly corrupts him as it is incapable of harming Dust in any physical manner. The overcharge turns Nüu very twisted, and makes Dust very tired, yet he refused to use any of it.

Nüu was the head of the guard, which is why it was such a big thing to assume he was going to be killed.

He owns a very shaky version of a teleporting machine, which is how he managed to travel the large body of water between the island of Thuva and the mainland.

He has a large scar across his right cheek, that he refuses to talk about. Everyone thinks this is because its traumatic, when in actuality, he just to embarrassed to explain it from landing of a tree branch weirdly after using his badly made device. Though he has improved these over time with the help from Error, and has them made for the whole team.

The island of Thuva is vaguely cult like. Their plan is to create immortal warriors and take the mainland for themselves, believing it to be their destiny.

The rich stay rich and the poor are disposable. Most people don't know they're being used, due to the strong divide between their rulers, and the settlements being so far away from each other.

The island is mostly full of elves and half- elves ( plus a few humans) but the majority are full elves, who look down of the half and human settlers. All half-elves are made to act according to Elf traditions, while humans aren't allowed to do much, and tend to lack rights. It's horrible place really.

Dust does end up using his magic again, unfortunately it takes extreme measures for this to happen. Killer end up falling off a cliff several years into them being a group, which leaves him out of commission for a long time. He's mostly fine, minus a few more scars in the end, but he breaks a bunch of bones and almost looses his arm. Dust could have saved him from falling, and the guilt causes it to use it again. He uses a lot of magic to heal Killer, with both spells and potions, and continues to regularly use magic again, normally potions he makes from his own herb garden, and spells if they need to attack. - (this story has been written on AO3!)

This also causes Nüu to calm down due to the less overflowing magic, and come back to his senses, and he tells Dust the truth about his death. He tells Dust that what happened wasn't his fault, that his captures had messed with his head, and that he hadn't had anything to do with his death, other than making the potion that was supposed to make his executioner job easier. This messes Dust up for a bit, as his whole perception of what happened had just come crashing down on him.

Despite his innocence, he doesn't stop veiling all the time, mostly just because it a part of him now, but he does take it off more, and lets his teammates see his hair.

Dusts eyes are normally red, but turn blue when his uses his water based elemental magic.

[faint-kitten]

This battle pass looks fucking terrible.

I don't like any of these rewards. They just gave everyone the same white and black outfit and slathered the same goop on one side. I don't know enough about design to tell you why, but nothing here looks good. These skins are fucking aweful.

Like I'm genuinely considering not purchasing this battle pass and I have free coins. Like, did they burn up all their ideas last season? Last season was killer. Like did they put a lot of work into their cosmetics to make up for not having a new legend? I was okay with it. But so far this season is not impressing me... Something I came to realize playing fortnite last week was that I will always have that addictive dopamine rush of unlocking a new thing just to keep a game fresh, but once I get it I'll realize: oh I only really like using X Y or Z. I unfavorited a lot of skins in apex because I just don't like them and I'm very wary of buying new ones in fortnite because once the rush is over I just keep using the same 3 or 4 I like. Maybe I'm reaching that point where I just have one GOOD skin for every character in apex, and I'm privledged? But I don't think I'd use any of these. Everything I have is better. Which sucks because Seer's been needing a weird new skin, all of his stuff looks the same. I just. I look at these, and I see a mess. Like a Michael bay transformer, these look like a mess. For contrast: here's the skins we were given for free, in the battle pass, event stores, or that I unlocked last season (though some aren't season specific)

I might be slightly off on the timing of some of these, but like... These are all skins where you can fucking clearly see a design, an intent, a goal, the colors work well together, you can tell what the fucking character is. These new skins are nothing. (I'll also grant that the lifeline and bloodhound skins are old re-works but I only got them last season) My point is, looking at these new skins they're fucking nothing. There's nothing there. I am excited for Apex to have it's very own Juri Han from SF or Jinx from League of Legends type girl, A lot of characters get the same basic apex pack skins and you get some characters like Catalyst, or Wraith, or Valk, or Lifeline where the colors are placed well and look good on a character. Conduit's overall scheme changes and pops based on even the basic skins. You kind of need to find a balance of colors and a space where the familiar stuff like "Arachnophobia" and "alpha royal" textures can dramatically alter the skin, and the texture can pop. Sometimes you get Ballistic, or Wattson where it's either too small, or it's paired with Wattson's weird grey scheme so they stuff doesn't work together. I do think some of Alter's stuff pops pretty well in the rare tier: I've never liked either of these, but they look phenominal with her hair and sort of head shadow.

But her common skins are kinda nothing. Idk my big takeaway as I get older are developers struggling with deadlines have to choose what to invest their time into and I feel the more I play things like Fortnite, Apex, Starfield, MMO's I'm starting to recognize 'where the budget' (not just money, but resources and time) went. And I feel like Last season they just blew their whole load, and behind the scenes they were working on a new character, and by the time they finished her and blew all those other crazy skins out they maybe just didn't have any good ideas left? I dunno. I guess it's thematic but this...this season...these rewards...they're nothing. Also I'm not liking the look of yet another fucking currency added to the game. I know about as much as anyone else does about exotic shards, but until I have enough in a quantity that matters, or they lock something I want behind them I'm just gonna have the stance of "I don't completely get them, but after burning through almost all my level ups to get what might be my one and only heirloom I'm lowkey kinda pissed you're introducing something ELSE I could get into my apex packs."

----- Edit: Since initially posting this, I've tried solo's and ngl I kinda love it. As someone who's never cared about winning and feels like looting is taking too long in this game, the idea of just "KILL KILL KILL KILL *die* QUEU UP AGAIN! KILL KILL KILL!" is a lot of fun.

[ofcourtfables]

days begin to blur into one another for the citizens of gaea, following the ordeal as soon as the coronation of the young king was complete, being trapped in the ballroom promptly after. when inhabitants were able to emerge from the ballroom, another situation made itself known quickly following sunrise : a mystical force surrounding the outer borders of gaea, locking everyone in capital as a whole. even in this, the high rulers were not able to free themselves nor anyone, their ability to winnow out of gaea rendered incapable, and their magic, ineffective against this unknown entity currently holding them hostage. the days following, the courts and their inner circles are hard at work searching to uncover anything that might explain, or methods to battle this force. days later, with no solution appeared to be in sight, couple with mother's silence, many do wonder had she finally turned away from her children for good? unbeknownst to inhabitants of the capital, perhaps even prythian as a whole, a dark force is at work. the seers of the prythian plagues with visions that signaled something far more sinister, though not one could identify what this entity was. they cannot help but wonder, was this a warning of some sort from the mother? its a week or so after the barrier remained in place, and even with the visions the seers are plagued with, no true answers came to light. the royals host another ball, celebrating the spring equinox, now whether or not this gesture appeased the spring court was another matter. it seemed that it had worked to lift the spirits of everyone, as the night continued the guests enjoyed and indulged. the celebrations went on until dawn, and music coming to a stop when hints of the sun began peaking through the horizon. when morning settled onto the capital, the spring sun shinning high in the sky until suddenly it gradual begins to be covered in shadow and smoke. a thick silence falls amongst the crowd as they gaze up to darkened sky, before a wave of whispers breaks among the crowd. and then, a sound is heard, unknown of something slashing against the winds, and then outlines of an unknown creature soaring across the smoke covered sky, the outlines disappear as quickly as they appear, leaving the inhabitants to wonder if they had imagined seeing things. this disturbance is followed by another, there's a stillness at first and then the ground beneath their feet begins to rumble and shake, sending a wave of panic amongst the crowd. the quiver of the lands lasts for what appears to be hours on end, not a single soul dares to move, bracing and fearing the worst until the shaking finally comes to an end. the clearing of the smoke is a gradual process, but once the blue sky is visible, the fae do not move from their position yet, bracing for another disaster , all the while wondering if what they'd seen was their imagination or something was out there. one thing was for certain as the realization dawns across the guests and the residents of gaea, their problems were far from over.

[unsettlingcreature]

I've been given permission to go "balls to the wall" on my spelljammer character and boy howdy am I going to do that!! :3

Backstory

A former honour guard, Eris worked primarily on guarding diplomats and politicians on the Astral Plane. After many decades of service, they were chosen for a special position as an out-of-plane bodyguard for a member of royalty.

The royal had a number of other companions and together, they travelled across Wildspace, visiting various worlds on a prolonged diplomatic mission. There were various dangers along the way, from attempted kidnappings and assassinations to failed negotiations to even alien diseases.

While Eris was able to make real connections with the diplomatic party (outside of short assignments and distant comrades), they also came to realise that they'd had a relatively sheltered life in the honour guard, compared to the lives that many people lived outside of the Astral Plane.

Eris finally experienced the grief that comes with befriending those with shorter-lifespans, watching as they grew old while they barely aged. After a number of losses, due to a mixture of increased attacks, Eris found themselves falling into a depression.

It reached a tipping point when the royal they'd travelled with had to call their diplomatic mission to a close, due to contracting an alien disease with no cure. Eris stayed by their side until they passed, after which they resigned from the honour guard.

They chose to wander the Astral Sea afterwards, looking for a way to deal with the boundless grief that had grown inside them. Rather than process it, Eris chose to ignore it and look for distractions, finding the bodies of dead gods and learning to paint with the stars.

For the most part, they avoided the dominions of deities but from time to time, would find themselves drawn towards them. These visits were brief and rarely fruitful but one interaction with a god gave them a new perspective on some of the events that took place on the diplomatic tour.

Eris was eventually found by Vhoez, a githyanki star seer and descendant of one of Eris' comrades from their time in the honour guard, who had noticed that nobody had heard from them for a concerning amount of time and tracked them down. In that time, Eris had seemed to be a shadow of their former self, having "faded away" in the many, many years they'd spent alone in the Astral Sea.

Vhoez bullied convinced Eris to leave the Astral Sea and find a new purpose in life, as they'd lost all direction. Which is how they join the party, yippee!

Extra Facts

Eris has eisoptrophobia - a fear of their reflection! This manifests in them avoiding mirrors and reflective surfaces or attempting to cover up or break them (often in times of stress or where it is otherwise unavoidable).

This developed due to wearing their helm for almost every waking moment of the day. It worsened after the royal perished.

Their primary concern with clothing in the current day is comfort. When adrift in the Astral Sea, there was no point to them wearing shoes and this is one of the few things they struggle to remember to put on.

They forget details easily, particularly names and dates. They also tend to "drift off" and get distracted, sometimes humming or singing to themselves.

Their alcoholic beverage of choice is red wine. In an alternate universe, they are tanning by the pool at an all-inclusive resort and drinking sangria while Jimmy Buffet plays in the background.

They picked up a number of solitary hobbies, primarily singing, painting and fishing in the Astral Sea.

I still haven't picked a voice out for them but I need to figure something out otherwise I'm going to panic and do Perseus' voice again.

My DM said I could go wild with my character as a "gift to a forever DM" which made me go 🥺

[silverchangeling]

"You know-" The demon smiled nervously at the second son and the two priests flanking him "my way seeing of the world- my morality- is not unlike yours. I think we should approach these things with mutual respect-"

"Silence, you insolent oath-breaker." The second son was having none of the demon man-woman-thing's tricks. "You broke our contract."

"Broke? The contract?" The demon laughed politely as they took their handkerchief out to clear some sweat from their brow. "Whatever could you mean?"

The second son took out some glowing parchment. "In return for freeing your uh... siblings? you agreed to sabotage this castle and not aid the royal bloodline of Northchester. And yet, the Northchester Prince has miraculously evaded capture. Summoned allies. Then they together are preparing to march against us."

The second made a signal to the two priests as he continued. "Our seers have confirmed our suspicion. You are a traitor. And even your kin now run free, your life will serve as a default."

The priests wielded their holy implements. There was nowhere to run in the small room.

"No third parties shall mediate the Contract." With the demon's command, shimmering shadows leapt from the parchment unto the two priests. They both froze, as if stuck in time. The second son gulped.

The demon grinned, this time toothily, "Too bad- the contract has been unbroken and it's magic is quite alive. Well, until you broke it just now with your little assault on my life. Heh."

Realization set over the second son. The first son was far away- he must have known something was off.

The demon laughed, haughtily and fully, "Let me spell it out for you. There is no bloodline Prince of Northchester- both because she's an adopted orphan and she's a princess. And barely a princess at that- she's more interested in returning the land to its people and their ancient ways~" the demon tucked their handkerchief into their chest, "I happen to be quite fond of her. My protection of her has been irrelevant to the contract."

"Anyway- since you so rudely broke our agreement- I'll have to exact penalty-" The demon declared. With a snap of their finger, the contract glowed, and something ethereal yet important was removed from the second son.

"Let me repeat myself-" the demon continued, "I'm quite the agreeable person- if you and your cunning siblings were content to chop up and backstab other church nobles, I wouldn't care less. But seize and strengthen the colony in Northchester? And then you threaten my siblings to force me to help you?" The demon spat on the carpet "Well, lets say I don't have many polite words for you."

The demon looked at the ghostly thing yanked from within the second son. "Well, allow me write your destiny for you. You forget our meeting this day. Your more clever siblings abandon you here. You rule here as an unpopular despot for a month at most. You die- swiftly and pathetically- at the hands of the Northchester people."

The immaterial something moved back into the second son, and he immediately passed out. When he came to, neither him nor the priests were sure what they doing in this room to begin with.

[ivyprism]

The Second Time I Died (Tenebrous AU: Hepatica x Morte?)

Warning: Implied rebellion, implied war, death, blood, anger, getting impaled, seer, future sight, etc.

----

"My memory was always good, as my mother would remark. I would remember small, subtle details. I remembered where she kept something when she needed it a month later. My father despised it.

I was capable of mentioning things she didn't recall, and the second time I died was the most raw and memorable of them all.

My parents were greeting the royal family as a routine formality when my second vision occurred. I was staring at Morte from above. I was holding a knife, and he was looking at me with those hypnotic eyes. We were both wearing armor, my hair was cut short, and I was clutching a sword. He seems reluctant, almost scared.

I was afraid too. I was shaking, and my mouth moved on its own.

"Why? Why did you do this?" I had spoken to him. His gaze never wavered from mine. I wasn't even sure what he did. I had no background, but when he opened his mouth, his speech was jumbled, and I couldn't understand a single word. As always, a vague seer problem with specific future event names.

That's when a shadow, one of his abilities, pierced my body. I slid to the side as blood trickled down my lips and across his face, causing me severe agony. It was extremely cold, terrifying, and silent. I felt my soul die, and I was brought back to reality. I probably appeared stunned since Prince Morte asked if I was okay, and I merely waived it off.

His eyes, unlike when I first saw one of my deaths, appeared more fatigued, yet I shook my head. I was gazing too deep into it. I simply had to avoid him, and I won't have to worry about dying, right?" You exhaled deeply. Once again, you were intrigued and wanted to learn more about this mysterious writer, but it was so ambiguous that you couldn't quite understand what she was talking about. Whatever the case, you continue reading.

---------

Part 1: The First Time I Died (Tenebrous AU: Hepatica x Morte?)

[dragon-in-the-woods]

Shadow: *wearing lighter shades of black*

Kain: Ah, I see you're bringing out the spring colors.

[solar-synapse]

🌒⭐️💬 🎭

(I am only somewhat sure I got all those right have fun sol~)

🌒 - Do you prefer Sun & Moon to be separate animatronics or share the same body?

I think if I was going to write a more canon-typical AU, I would write them as animatronics sharing the same body. The tension in their relationship is fundamentally tied to how unequal their control is over their shared body, and that's something I would want to dig into in my own writing, but I love seeing other people write them as separate animatronics too.

In my existing AU's, I've done both! The boys in Star-Crossed are twins, but they're very different individuals. In the Silt Verses crossover, they're two aspects of one god. So I guess my answer is both. Both is good.

⭐️ - Favorite AU character design?

If you asked me this three days ago, I probably would have said the Fairweather Fool, but now I'm looking at some of these proposed Digimon evo line designs and sweating over Sun and Moon's mega fusion.

If we're talking about other people's AU designs, hands down, it's gotta be Dusk and Dawn from head-in-the-icloud's Royal Jesters AU. They're just so appealing.

💬 - How would you describe this AU to a friend who wasn’t in the DCA fandom?

Both of the AU's I am actively working on are already so far removed from DCA fandom, they lend themselves really well to being read by people who aren't familiar with the source material! I have a couple friends who have read and enjoyed Star-Crossed who aren't in the fandom. I'd honesty just summarize the premises.

Star-Crossed: Sun is the Seelie court jester, well known and well connected, but in political decline. In order to bolster his waning popularity, he has written an ambitious stage play, a tragedy between star-crossed lovers that is certain to satisfy his fans, if only he can find the perfect actor to step into the protagonist's role. That's where you come in.

You are a sidhe seer searching for someone who was taken to faerie many years ago. In exchange for passage to faerie, you sign a contract with Sun agreeing to perform in his play. However, his twin, Moon, doesn't quite buy your story or the convenient timing of your appearance. Faerie is a treacherous place. He suspects there is someone working in the shadows to sabotage his brother's career, and you are his prime suspect.

TSV crossover: It's been generations since your people's god was outlawed during the religious wars that codified the legal faiths. Your rural, largely agricultural village is struggling to modernize, until a man from the city in a purple suit arrives one day with a tantalizing offer: a newly rebranded god of sunlight and celebrations, guaranteed to help your crops flourish in a way the pesticidal gods never did.

While the village elders and elected council members jump at the opportunity to expand in a new direction, one that promises increased opportunities for religious tourism, you pay the new god little mind, until it becomes clear you've caught his eye. However, the attention of a god isn't necessarily a good thing, and it seems Fazco hasn't been entirely transparent about this god's original aspect.

🎭 - Tell us one cliche/trope you love in AUs and one you dislike

Love: Enemies/rivals to friends/lovers. Bonus points if they were friends before they became enemies too, so you have a friends to enemies to friends/lovers reconciliation arc. Listen, I love a ship that makes me work for the payoff. The more baggage they bring to the table, the better. Messy people make for interesting stories.

Hate: Love at first sight and/or stories with pacing that doesn't give sufficient time for realistic romantic development to take place before characters start making dramatic life-altering gestures for their love interests or choices that go against their established natures. I'm an aromantic who loves ship fic, but nothing makes my romance repulsion flare harder than this. Just start in media res if you don't want to write the build up.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Patmos for the Landgrave of Homburg God is near Yet hard to seize. Where there is danger, The rescue grows as well. Eagles live in the darkness, And the sons of the Alps Go fearlessly over the abyss Upon bridges simply built. Therefore, since the peaks Of Time are heaped all about, And dear ones live close by, Worn down on the most separated mountains — Then give us innocent waters; Give us wings, and the truest minds To voyage over and then again to return. Thus I spoke, when faster Than I could imagine a spirit In the twilight Seduced me out of my own home To a place I never thought I’d visit. The shaded forests and longing Streams of my homeland. I couldn’t recognize the lands, but then suddenly In fresh a glow, mysterious In the golden haze, quickly emerging In the steps of the sun, With the fragrance of a thousand peaks, Asia rose before me, and dazzled I searched for something Familiar, since the broad alleyways Were unknown to me: where the gold-ornamented Patoklos comes rushing down from Tmolus, Where Taurus is to be found, and Messogis, And the gardens are full of flowers, Like a quiet fire. Up above In the light the silver snow Blooms, and ivy grows from ancient Times on the inapproachable walls, Like a witness to immortal life, While the joyous, the god-built palaces Are borne by living columns Of cypress, cedar and laurel. But around Asia’s gates Swish pulling here and there At an uncertain sea level With enough unshaded straits, Though the sailor knows these islands. And when I heard, that one of these close by Was Patmos, I wanted very much To put in there, to enter The dark grotto. For unlike Cyprus, rich with springs, Or any of the others, Patmos Is housed on earth poorly, But nevertheless is hospitable And if a stranger should come to her, Sent by shipwrecked or longing for His home or for a departed friend, She’ll gladly listen, and her Offspring as well, the voices In the hot grove, so that where sands blow and heat cracks the tops of the fields, They hear him, these voices, And lovingly sound the man’s grief. Thus she once looked after The seer who was loved by god, Who in his holy youth Had walked together inseparably With the Son of the Highest, Because the Bringer-of-Storms loved The simplicity of this disciple. Thus did that attentive man observe The countenance of the god precisely, There at the mystery of the grapevine, Where they sat together at the hour Of the Last Supper, when the Lord with His great spirit quietly envisioning His Own death, and forespoke it and also His final act of love, for He always Had words of kindness to speak, Even then in His prescience, To soften the violence and wildness of the world. For all is good. Then He died. Much Could be said about it. At the end His friends recognized how filled with joy He appeared, how victorious. And yet the men grieved, now that evening Had come, and were taken by surprise, Since they were full of great intentions, And loved living under the sun, And didn’t want to leave the countenance Of the Lord, and of their home. It penetrated them like fire into iron, And the One they love walked beside them Like a shadow. Therefore He sent The Spirit upon them, and the house Shook and God’s house and weather rolled Over their heads, filled with anticipation, while They were gathered with heavy hearts, Like heroes whose death approached, Then once more He appeared to them At his departure. For now The royal day of the sun Was extinguished, as he cast The shining scepter from himself, With godlike suffering, but knowing He would come again at the right time. It would have been wrong To cut off disloyally His work The work of humankind, since now it brought Him joy To live on in loving night, to preserve Before simple eyes, unrelated The depths of wisdom. Deep in the Mountains grew also living images, Yet it is terrible how God here and there Scatters the living, and how very far they are flung. And how fearsome it was to leave The sight of dear friends and walk off Alone far over the mountains, where The Holy Spirit was twice Recognized, in unity. It hadn’t been prophesied to them: Rather it seized them right by the hair Just at the moment when the God Who had turned from them, looked back, and they called out to Him To stop, and they reached their hands to One another as if bound by a golden cord, And called it evil — But when He dies —He about whom beauty hangs Loved most of all, so that a miracle Surrounded him, and he was the Elect of the heavens — And when those who lived together Thereafter in His memory, became Perplexed and no longer understood One another; and when floods carry off The sand and willows and temples, And when the fame of the demi-god And His disciples is blown away And even the Highest turns aside his Countenance, so that nothing Immortal can be seen either In heaven or upon the green earth — What meaning must we take from all of this? It is the cast of the sower, as he seizes Wheat with his shovel Throwing it into the clear air, Swinging it across the threshing floor. The chaff falls to his feet, but The grain emerges in the end. It’s not bad if some of it gets lost, Or if the sounds of His living speech Fade away. For the divine work resembles our own: The Highest doesn’t want all to be Accomplished at once. As mines yield iron, And Ætna its glowing haze, Then I’d have wealth sufficient To form a picture of Him and see What he was, the Christ. But if somebody spurred himself on Along the road and, speaking sadly, Fell upon me and surprised me, so that Like a servant I’d make an image of the God — Once I saw the lords Of heaven visibly angered, not That I wanted to become something different, But that I wanted to learn something more. The lords are kind, but while they reign They hate falsehood most, when humans become Inhuman. For not they, but undying Fate It is that rules, and their work Transforms itself and quickly reaches an end. When the heavenly triumph proceeds higher. Then the joyful Son of the Highest Is called like the sun by the strong, As a watchword, like the staff of a song That points downwards, For nothing is ordinary. It awakens The dead, those raised incorruptible. And many are waiting whose eyes are Still too shy to see the light directly. They wouldn’t do well in the sharp Ray: a golden bridle Holds back their courage. But when quiet radiance falls From the Holy Scripture, with The world forgotten and their eyes Swollen, then they may enjoy that grace, And study the quiet image. And if the heavens love me, As I now believe, Then how much more Do they love you. For I know one thing: That the will of the eternal Father Concerns you greatly. Under a thundering sky His sign is silent. And there is One who stands Beneath it all his life. For Christ still lives. But the heroes, all his sons Have come, and the Holy Scriptures Concerning Him and the lightening, Explain the deeds of the Earth up to this day, Like a footrace that knows no end. And He is with us too, for his works and all Known to Him from the very beginning. For far too long The honor of the heavens Has gone unseen. They practically have to Guide our fingers as we write, And with embarrassment the power Is ripped from our hearts. For every heavenly being Expects a sacrifice, And when this is neglected, Nothing good can come of it. Without awareness we’ve served at the feet of Our Mother Earth, and the Light Of the Sun as well, but what our Father Who reigns over everything wants most Is that the established Word be Caringly attended, and that Which endures be construed well. German song must accord with this. —Friedrich Hölderlin, Patmos (1803) in: Sämtliche Werke und Briefe, vol. 1, p. 379-385 (Hanser ed. 1970)(SH Trans), first published in Harper's Magazine, July 2007

[Scott Horton]

[kolkudarandtheorcgang]

(Trigger Warnings: Mentions of self harm, suicide, violence, fictional religious aspects, s3x work, mental health issues)

Worldbuild Lore: Mystic Tribe

Once known as Sauron's most loyal adepts, the Mystics were infamous for their sorcery skills; according to legends, such skills could reach the point of flawless necromancy. Their cloaks of darkness, the green flames of their magics, their chants and their unflinching determination in the face of death were the trademarks of their faction.

Forming the back of the forces, this tribe's main duty was to raise the fallen troops from the dead, diminishing the losses suffered in battles and ensuring victory even after crushing numbers in casualties for the Dark Lord's army. Other notable contributions were in cursing the enemy lines, healing wounded soldiers and using clairvoyance to gather valuable information. Their main feature to boast about is at successfully compiling and learning most of Sauron's ancient dark arts, thus forming an entire horde of talented witches and scholars under his command.

As for their mindsets, the most typical trait is the morbid humor along with complete disregard for the respects one should pay for the fallen. Another feature is the permanent arrogance as well as high levels of intelligence, dexterity and logical thinking. It is no easy feat to trick a mystic, much less to impress them. Hand-to-hand combat or heavy weaponry are nothing of importance compared to a sharp intellect and even sharper skills in casting spells of all sorts. The mystic orcs usually tend to have a more spiritual perspective of life, and many are actually superstitious. There is a traditional deference in place for the teachers amongst apprentices, forming an hierarchical web of bonds between generations of mystics; many pride themselves and even feel a sense of belonging in their scholarship lineages. Strangely though, some apprentices may display signs of loss of mental health at the start of their training, requiring their masters to take measures to cull self harm tendencies in their classes of students.

The Mystic Tribe's domain is aptly named Vogaumtarband; there, schools of all kinds can be found, mainly the schools of witchcraft and alchemy. Scholarships, although expensive at times, are still accessible if the student earns the acceptance of tutelage from one of the teachers. Services such as fortune telling, potion trades, sorcerers for hire, religious rites, and libraries, are widely offered to the Haven. The entire burgh is almost a temple in itself, built of marbles, of gemstones, of silver and petrified woods, rising from the grounds in the shape of towers and palaces that blanket the entire area in shadow. Though not many guards are present, countless sentries are visible perched atop the walls and rooves, keeping their sacred home safe from robbers. The Haven's mausoleums are also located at this burgh, and every day many citizens arrive to leave offerings for their lost comrades. Some fear wandering for too long inside due to loose spells cast by apprentices being a far too common hazardous occurrence.

One might argue that the mystics hold even stricter discipline than the warmongers, another might cite their cult of wisdom, yet their greatest deed is that of consolation: the mystics are known at the Haven for their preachings, which act like verbal remedies for the souls of the crowds, encouraging many to abandon the seeking of their own deaths, comforting those who experience grief, settling disputes before they blow into violent altercations, amongst various other effects. The Haven wouldn't be so safe and peaceful without their influence.

Hierarchy:

-Overlord: Kûpash The Damned (current head parson of Black Blood Haven’s cultist order and the royal seer)

-Warchiefs: Ur-Zunn The Cursemaker, Ûggû The Whisper, Grak The Matriarch, Ar-Gahu The Acidic

-Captains: approximately 45 of them, with Grisha The Gentle as their main representative

Brand: The ritualistic star circle of ten points, surrounded by two more circles of runes and with Sauron's eye at the center, representing their worship of the Dark Lord as well as his ancient magics

Societal Relationships:

-Machine Tribe: Clashes with the machines are common, for the machines are skeptical of the power of the mystics, while the mystics have disdain for the technological advancement the machines bring

-Terror Tribe: Currently good relations, since both share the enjoyment of spooking others; terrors receive special treatment and discounted pricing at the temples and schools of mystics

-Slaughter Tribe: Often sought after for they are amongst the only ones who can properly extract and prepare potion and alchemy ingredients out of animal sources, though the slaughters still find necromancy distasteful for it is "to play with food" in their opinion

-Feral Tribe: Ferals are often fanatical adepts of seeking the advice of mystics, for few seem to have as much insight into the souls of animals and other living beings as mystics; sometimes, ferals also help by offering free ingredients and other materials to the mystics as gratitude for their services in taming aggressive beasts more peacefully than the terrors do

-Outlaw Tribe: Neutral relations sometimes, some others have clashes due to the outlaws holding a rebellious rejection of the cult for Melkor and Sauron; outlaws often get banned for vandalizing temples

-Warmonger Tribe: Currently neutral relations, though many ridicule the warmongers for their fear of necromancer magics

-Courtesan Tribe: Many mystics were once courtesans, and many mystics become courtesans afterwards, leading to rather firm bonds between the tribes, though many believe it might be because some mystics have admiration for life bringers such as broodmothers and vatkeepers; many courtesans study fortune telling under the tutelage of mystic trainers

-Suture Tribe: Tight bonds, though there is the neverending rivalry between the tribes over which is the best as healers

-Marauder Tribe: Bards are terrified of them, other marauders either ignore or appease them with false adulation due to the superstitious belief that mystics can bless or curse the businesses at will

-Dark Tribe: Relatively good relations, thanks to the darks often purshasing poisons and other tools for murder and espionage from them, as well as the high number of darks who seek blessings from the shadow priests

-Rover Tribe: Great relations, for the mystics are not foolish to ignore the fact that their source of income would not exist without the merchants bringing in imported materials and constantly paying for blessings and fortune telling

-Other orcs (goblins, hobgoblins, etc): These goblins and orcs hold much respect and consideration for the Mystic Tribe, not only because they already have culturally the same acknowledgement for their own priests, but also because it was this tribe who persisted on baptizing them into their cults in order to force The Orc King into granting them citizenship until his royal decrees changed, allowing these orc races to become citizens as soon as they moved into the city

-Pinkskins (humans, half-elves and half-orcs): Pretty much same as the other orc races, though a few of the pinkskins sometimes reject their religion as something unholy and vile

Foreigners (The Free Folks as a whole): The Mystic Tribe is fully aware of how they would be demonized and hunted down for their faith by The Free Folks, so they keep themselves as concealed from them as possible

[lordofthestrix]

“Wars begin when you will, but they do not end when you please.”

"You are not awfully familiar with my work, are you?" Tristan dismissed, unperturbed "Among the flaws of the Original Family that so often plagues your thoughts is their inability to remain balanced when they face death. An understandable foible for whom the end for so long was specific and distantly insistent. Mikael, looming over their lives like a ceaseless shadow. Look at them now. So quick to betray each other and descend into paranoia as soon as they hear whispers of a single weapon or being that could strike them down. The two of us are atrociously powerful and our strength is ever-growing, yes. But the weapons that could vanish us are...Just about any wooden chair wielded with enough fury or a skillful sleight of hand to rob us of our rings in the middle of a sunny day. In these mundane dangers you should have encountered the bravery to combat peril Lucien. You haven't." An insinuation of dark amusement visited the end of the statement. "Therein lies the supreme irony and hypocrisy of you. For as much as I have been cursed with having to hear echoes of your blabber in the naivety of every angered child playing revolutionary throughout the ages...You think hierarchically. That humans have no chance facing against vampires. That regular vampires are equally helpless combating an Original. Take a moment to appreciate the fights you choose. You adore earning the respect of mortals with your silly business ventures. As if their validation could somehow fill the greedy, hollow husk you call a soul. As if just about any vampire of moderate rationale couldn't accomplish similar success one week after discovering compulsion. You sail the uncertain seas of the stock market...With a seer by your side. Forget about bringing ruin to those above you as your mantra suggests. When was the last time you fought someone at your level? Someone you had no vast advantage over? You fancy yourself some modern Icarus when the truth is you are more alike a sneaky vermin who would only genuinely challenge the gods once you had them at your mercy."A fragment of Tristan gaze seemed to look past him. "Have you ever wondered, in between your never-ending shows of indignation, why is it that I do take pride in my blood? It has nothing to do with nonsensical proclamations of divine right wielded by royals that arrived after my mortal years. What originally separated noblemen from men was their power to claim victory over an insurmountable battle of one kind of another. And then another. And then another. The legacy of such triumphs. That is how they become. That conquest. That is what flows through my veins. So yes, Lucien. I administer wars. Perfectly aware of the raging chaos unleashed in their wake. Fully conscious that even the most extreme display of guile and determination would find difficult to tame its many threads. I happen to enjoy the challenge. But given that you appear to be in need of some reassurance, no doubt motivated by your touching concern for me, allow me to grant you an historical promise of what happens when I let slip the dogs of war." By then he genuinely looked at him. In the most certain of forecasts.

"First there is chaos. And then there is me."

@kingmakercastle

[burningthemidnightcityoil]

THE MIND ASPECT AND THE CONCEPT OF SHADOW

“There is Shadow and there is Substance, and this is the root of all things.” - The Chronicles of Amber, the Nine Princes of Amber

The Mind Aspect is an interesting aspect, given that its considered one of the most mysterious aspects. There’s not a whole lot to garner, and we’re given only one confirmed Hero of Mind, Terezi Pyrope.

And when it comes to heroes of an aspect, its very difficult to find where interpretation ends and meaning begins--just ask for the differences between Vriska Serket (Thief of Light) and Rose Lalonde (Seer of Light).

So let me dive into the Mind aspect. Let’s dive into Possibility, Interpretation, and Shadow.

And there is no series more worthy of the Mind Aspect, then Roger Zelanzy’s The Chronicles of Amber.

The Chronicles of Amber detail the idea that there is one True Universe, and the rest of the Multiverse are merely its various Shadows casted by a metaphysical construct known as the Pattern.

And if you succeed in walking the True Pattern, you can travel to any place in the multiverse, provided you can imagine it.

In the books, this true universe is represented by the “true city” of Amber. And its royal family, plotting scheming cut-throats of very questionable morals (and with a lot of comparisons to the Greek Pantheon regarding their attitude to things), are the only ones capable of walking the Pattern and traveling through Shadow.

And when one of these Royals reside in a Shadow for long enough, that Shadow becomes more Real and more Tangible. (In-Universe, its debated whether or not the shadows actually exist, and if the royal responsible actually created it or not).

Our Earth is one of these Shadows. Made Real by the Prince Corwin of Amber.

So what does this have to do with Homestuck’s Mind Aspect?

The Mind Aspect’s Cardinal Neighbor is Space. Its reflection across Breath-Blood is Light, and its the Descending Aspect below the Spacetime is Void. The Mind Aspect in direct opposition to the Heart aspect.

Those aspects that are closest to Space are more Worldly. Their concepts affect the Environment more than the Individual.

Those Aspects who reside on Breath’s side of the Spacetime Line, are more Ideal in Concept. They’re the Ascending Aspects. Mind’s Descending Aspect is Void; in order to drop ideas or thoughts to meaninglessness, one has to conceive / think of them first.

“Amber casts an infinity of shadows. A child of Amber may walk among them, and such was my heritage. You may call them parallel worlds if you wish, alternate universes if you would, the products of a deranged mind if you care to. I call them shadows, as do all who possess the power to walk among them. We select a possibility and we walk until we reach it. So, in a sense, we create it. Let’s leave it at that for now. “ - The Chronicles of Amber, The Guns of Avalon

By its Cardinal Neighbor, Space, The Mind Aspect deals in the Multiverse. In its Descent to Void, the Mind Aspect deals in Cause and Effect, Action and Consequences, where an Artifact / Actor can be. In its reflection with the Light Aspect, both Aspects deal in Meaning. Where Light deals in the meaning of Symbols, Mind deals in the Meaning of Action. Where light deals in Fortune, Mind deals in Karma.

With its Neighbor Hope, Mind deals in Possibility. But unlike Hope, Mind’s possibility is weighed. It is balanced based on sensory information taken from the evidence at hand, to give the most LIKELY Possibility, as opposed to simply Imagined Ones.

There’s a good reason that Mind details heavily in Detectives and Investigators, and Noir Monologues.

Of which, in irony, the Chronicles of Amber have a lot of.

“In my heart, there was something like a bit of joy that I had undone at least a small portion of the rottenness I had wrought. Evil? Hell, I’ve done more of it than most men, but I had picked up a conscience too, somewhere along the way, and I let it enjoy one of its rare moments of satisfaction. “ - The Chronicles of Amber, The Guns of Avalon

Remember that Mind’s Descending Aspect is Void.

Yes, in Homestuck, all possibilities exist. These possibilities exist in separate timelines and spaceplaces, and thus the multiverse is born.

But they are not real unless you make them real.

And just as in the Chronicles of Amber, the Possible Reality (The Shadow) doesn’t stop being a Shadow unless you go there and make it real.

This concept of making reality as you experience it, is not a new concept nor one that resided in fiction.

This is Solipsism.

“The notion that nothing exists but the self, or, at least, that we cannot truly be aware of anything but our own existence and experience. I can find, somewhere, off in Shadow, anything I can visualize. Any of us can. This, in good faith, does not transcend the limits of the ego. It may be argued, and in fact has, by most of us, that we create the shadows we visit out of the stuff of our own psyches, that we alone truly exist, that the shadows we traverse are but projections of our own desires....” - Chronicles of Amber, the Sign of the Unicorn

Solipsism is the idea that only the Mind exists, and anything outside of it is uncertain, and that because a thing is perceived by the Mind but not of the Mind (It can’t be truely known), then it can’t seem to truly exist.

I think therefore I exist.

But... there’s a flaw in here. The Mind Aspect is a Worldly Aspect, its hardly personal. There is no “I” here, for one must contrast their actions with their consequences, and the reality of others help define the reality of you.

At best, something is doing the thinking. Something drew the True Pattern, the true thing that all shadows reflect upon.

Who is this “I”?

And what lies in the Darkness beyond Shadow and beyond the Pattern?

“Yet—yet there is a disturbing element in the picture. There is a place where the shadows go mad.... When you purposely push yourself through layer after layer of Shadow, surrendering—again, purposely—a piece of your understanding every step of the way, you come at last to a mad place beyond which you cannot go. Why do this? In hope of an insight, I'd say, or a new game ... But when you come to this place, as we all have, you realize that you have reached the limit of Shadow or the end of yourself—synonymous terms, as we had always thought. Now, though... Now I know that it is not so, now as I stand, waiting, without the Courts of Chaos, telling you what it was like, I know that it is not so.“ - The Chronicles of Amber, the Sign of the Unicorn

In the Chronicles of Amber, there is a force that is the reflect opposite of Amber. That once you reach the end of Shadow and enter the “Darkness”, that is where you find the origin of Existence.

The Courts of Chaos.

The closer to Chaos you get, the faster Time seems to run. A year could go in Amber, and Decades could happen in the Courts. The inhabitants of the Courts are capable of shapeshifting into ever more demonic and monstrous shapes, and the Shadows close to Chaos start losing laws of reality.

The Inhabitants shapeshifting only appeals to what forms they personally desire and want. Their Realms are made of bits of reality they desire and like. There is Order here, but its Personal Order. And in contrast to the Pattern, Chaos has the Logrus, a twisting changing thing that once walked, will allow you to not only travel “Shadow” but will also allow you to take any item you imagine from “Shadow”.

This... is the I in I think therefore I am, to the Chronicles of Amber and possibly the Mind Aspect there in. That is what the Mind sees of the Heart, a chaotic place that lacks Order and Law. All Possibility all the time, but that is the kicker here. This would be why Mind and Heart are in opposition.

And if Amber is the Mind that cast Shadow.

... Chaos is the Heart of Darkness.

“If you had a choice between the ability to detect falsehood and the ability to discover truth, which one would you take?” - The Chronicles of Amber, the Sign of Chaos

[mothduchess]

The Crown of the Sea

Off the shores of a grey-haired kingdom, far from the ragged bluffs of yore... This is a kingdom of the waves, where the seafoam carries royal decrees and the thunder is law. Long have the fishers and the swarthy dock folk managed their ruler's temper - a man can starve a town, but the sea can drown a soul. Hardened by ages of salty water they have become known as fearless, unbowed! ... But some fishing stories are told in the hushest of tones. No orc sized catch, no daring escape. Only the tales of two glowing orbs wraped in fog accompanied by a stench so fowl fish rise to the surface dead in the eye. But a king will never accept a power that is not his own. Never will a king even consider, that nature is not at his whims. Curling wisps of cloud grace the waters on a pale-lit night. On this mistborn evening, the regents meet; the royal vessel from the old crown, emblazoned with its sacred insignia, sails upon the crashing sea. The king and his son, the sovereign and his begrudging heir, dare sail across the sea for clandestine operations for the good of crown and coffers. His majesty's advisors told him not, it'd be risky. His seer said he'd find doom, but he didn't listen. His very son, normally tied of tongue out of spite and fear, spoke. The king answered in defiance. "To the sea! No man of this line will fear that sea, for we are kings of this realm!" He proudly proclaimed. And thus there they are - two souls and a captain, sailing in a royal skiff. The king's arrogance was unmatched, for no mortal could lay a hand upon him, and the sea had no mortal to challenge. This was true. But dear reader, please do take this warning close. There are things more harrowing than a mere man. The sea churns about the boat as curtains of cloud billow about. The captain scrambles to the forefront of the boat. Her visage pales in shock, stepping aback. "What devilry is this?!" Cries the King. The son looks upon confused at the sudden shift in the storming sea. The crashing tempest drums against the boat, announcing the call of its dark master. A shape, dozens of feet tall and wide, rises from the crashing foam. An unearthly noise screams through the sky as water peels from the shapes body. Bone decorated in the royal robes of the sea made of seaweed and studded with age old barnacles. Fiendish claws and putrescent wings glimmer with unhallowed magics, the mist squirming betwixt them. A tail decked in rotting fins lashes the waves into shape behind it. And perched atop a winding neck, a singular unsettling skull, a draconic visage bereft of skin with only two pale glowing wisps set into its sockets and a gnarled crown of dark coral. The Sovereign of the Sea has come to bear, their stature dwarfing the puny vessel. Their subject the storm follows their silent whims and raises the vessel to meet the gaze of this abyssal regent. In a tongue older than grey, they speak.

"You dare claim this sea? Your arrogance claims to stretch from sky to sky, and yet here you are. Your progeny, a pale shadow that abhors your image. And a captain who holds more wisdom than you ever commanded. I see you, for what. You. Are."

A claw picks up the monarch, and flings him high into the clouds!

"A blight! A sickness so new and ravenous! It is time that the sea claims a true crown! I will take your farms, I will take their souls, and they shall bow to me, bow to your child, and spit curses unto your name for all time. And I will damn you to WATCH."

Jaws of oblivion snap shut around the King as he falls into the unliving gullet of the sea sovereign. His soul becomes trapped in the coral, his wails echoing in the seaweed. As the dragon revels in the fearful hatred of the deposed, they turn their sights onto the son. And, wisely. Rightly. The son and the captain bow to their superior, gilded crown in hand.