#scribe squirrel

[yugonora-comic]

But wait, who’s this? Why, it’s your own oc!

That’s right, we’re inviting you to make an oc for this world and join the fun! Who and what will they be? A man? A monster? What are they like? Where do they live? That’s all at your discretion! We want you to have fun with this setting as much as us, so please, feel free to get your creative juices flowing!

And who knows, maybe Yugo and friends will run into them someday!

[cuties-in-codices]

clerics & scribes

from the margins of a "pontifikallektionar", a liturgical manuscript made for abbot peter eichhorn ("peter squirrel"), wettingen (switzerland), 1557

source: Luzern, Staatsarchiv, Pontifikallektionar, fol. 10r and 10v

[nomaishuttle]

literally consumed by thoughts abt my freaks .

[larissa-the-scribe]

An essential member of my writing/drawing team.

She's. um. supervising. Also waiting on scratches and kisses and treats.

[gynandromorph]

god this shit took forever to sketch. another NofNA emulation comic. it reminds me of the midterms in secretary, for obvious reasons, but Legend is sort of an inverse secretary situation, where she is exceptional at fighting, but wants to write.

let me see what i can remember...

PS, the blue-eyed black lemur, has been friends with Legend since their mutual first season at college, as mentioned above her reference sketch... they probably became more friendly after being paired up to peer edit each others' work. PS has since graduated from college and works as a markscraft. Legend frequently commissions PS to scribe for her, not only because they are friends, but because PS is one of the few markscrafts in the area who isn't a rodent. many primates go into law or medicine. mainly Legend commissions notetaking in classes -- she is too insecure to share her stories. PS has a more relaxed, informal personality, and i tried to get that across -- i think it's relevant to why she decided to become a markscraft instead of pursuing more intense study. still, i also tried to get across that they are good friends, not just scribe and customer, particularly with the amount of touching that PS does. the impulse to touch and groom is probably innate for her as a primate. there isn't as much information about her species, but in ring-tailed lemurs, lemurs usually only groom based on the strongest bonds, rather than more communal aggregate grooming as a sort of social currency. i honestly don't know what PS would need to note during finals, but i think Legend just Wanted her there anyway.

the bird, DL, fighting the squirrel, GG, is a grey shrike. i imagine him as an average student in the middle of his education, but i think he is in the class for combat purposes, because pressure point manipulation can be incredibly powerful, more so if from a less expected species like a bird.

mr. deciding is a much more serious, no-nonsense teacher, possibly due to his specialty. when you're teaching students how to explode a kidney with a handshake, you probably just play it safe and try to put the fear of god into them before any kidneys get exploded. i wanted this class to have a much heavier emphasis on safety of the participants than the class in secretary, with a more focused goal than "who can beat the shit out of each other better." i think the goal of fighting to show off knowledge here is still Fucking Insane, but it's just. their culture, i guess. you can technically "move" your pressure points, so being able to defend yourself by utilizing this knowledge can also show off what you've retained. the mouse next to him is a proctor, who is an extra teacher brought in to judge and often write for another teacher, but primarily as a peacekeeper and bouncer. in classes where a student can theoretically totally disable a teacher by just touching them once, the precaution is seen as necessary. the mouse is probably a combat-oriented point invocation instructor.

the mandrill, MK, is a first-season or first-year student -- i assume that one class, from midterms to finals, is a season, as secretary seems to start near autumn. midterms have snow, and finals are during early spring. anyway, that's tangential. i think he's very new to the educational system. i pictured him as a medical student. in his fighting style, i made him more defensive; he doesn't really know nearly as much about attacking an opponent in a fight. he does think at least about his opponent's most immediate reactions, but doesn't have enough experience with fighting to think ahead to the degree that Legend does. you can see him make the same mistake that Legend did against Machinations, which disables his non-dominant hand. needless to say, he will probably always be aware of headbutt proximity now. he attempts to use two factures in the fight within a style meant to evoke debilitating vertigo by manipulating the connection between the occular, vestibular, and proprioceptive systems. it's obvious that he created the style from his medical classes. it is fairly empty as far as styles go. interrupted facture: nystagmus, which causes the world to spin around the opponent by involuntarily twitching the eyes back and forth. second facture: strabismus, which misaligns the pupils, primarily impeding aim. denied by Legend because a honey badger does not rely on vision or a vestibular system as much as a primate does -- not something he really considered when making the style. factures that never ended up being used: pursuit, which forces the target to follow a spinning image of themselves instead of looking where they should; and mask's lasting, which forcibly initiates saccadic masking, suppressing the intake of new visual information altogether.

the large bird is a bateleur. the mouse is just a regular house mouse. the lizard is an ornate sandveld lizard. the opponent of the lizard is a common mole-rat, also called an african mole-rat (even though most species of mole-rats live in africa). the monkey god i'm not super sure but i believe it's just a vervet monkey. the other mouse is also a common house mouse.

GG is a second-year student, which is the last year for a rodent. i think she's been kind of aimless -- she thinks incredibly fast as a squirrel, and finds solving problems in the moment to be a much more successful endeavor than trying to plan ahead. she doesn't worry about the future and doesn't ruminate on the past much. she's aware that she isn't the best ever and doesn't apply herself as much as others, but it also doesn't particularly bother her. kind of ironic, given the aesop she slops onto Legend after the fight. i imagine that she will eventually choose the name Serendipity. i tried to write her lack of foresight, but compensatory quick thinking in both fights. like the shrike, GG is a combat-oriented student. the style she briefly introduces at the beginning is called fanciful flower's delightful blight. it is based on the deadly nightshade flower and its berries -- which are toxic, obviously, and a hallucinogenic. squirrels flick their tails for many reasons, and the most common reason is simply a default flicking to attract predators. their tails are designed to "deglove" easily; if a predator lunges for their tail, which is the moving part of them, the skin and fur will tear off, and the squirrel can escape. delightful blight utilizes the attention-grabbing flicking of the squirrel's tail as a nightshade plant to induce a trance-like state. the berries represent temptations so much more pleasing than what you ought to focus on. a nice berry and a flower to smell are so much nicer than struggling in a fight. even when you resist them, they linger in your mind, and "plant seeds" when the berry falls as self-restraint is worn down over repeated abstinence from the temptation. factures induce hallucinations and nausea. she primarily uses the base rodent style to fight Legend here, but also uses base squirrel style twists, which include more acrobatics, backflipping, and contortions.

the two things that really catch Legend off-guard use limbs that she doesn't have, and most opponents don't have -- elbows long enough to use defensively, and a long, rope-like tail. she is otherwise supposed to be fairly adept at analyzing what an opponent will do, usually a few steps ahead, related to her ability to fabricate narratives quickly. you can see her also come up with a lie for kicking GG fairly quickly... she was going to say the impulse was in her legs because she was trying to move away from GG's strike.

anyway if any part of this fight is like... unfathomable i can probably explain. i've already been typing for way too long, lmfao

[daughterofcain-67]

𝕽𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 (𝔭𝔱.1)

(Dean Winchester x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The wretched mark that Cain had passed on to Dean was taking an affect on the elder Winchester. Sam had been worried about the changes in his brother's character. Abaddon had already been killed, Dean was insistent on keeping the First Blade to use on Metatron. But Sam was more concerned with how to get the mark off his brother sooner rather than later. But who would know where to even begin?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Spoilers in the plots of seasons nine and ten. Mentions of blood, gore, SPN violence, mentions of genetic experimentation.

The look on Dean's face was all that Sam could remember when he held the First Blade for the first time. And ever since that moment he's noticed how much easier it was becoming for Dean to kill without any second thought.

Then there was the excuse Dean gave every time he wanted to bring that stupid blade along on almost every hunting trip they went on. Even when they truly didn't need it. It was like an addiction and there were times that Sam just wished he had given the blade to Crowley without Dean knowing.

But what really set Sam on the idea of taking the mark off his older brother, was the moment Dean finally killed Abaddon. The mark was powerful on Dean and after the lights went out of Abaddon's eyes, you would think it would be over, right? But Sam remembered how cold Dean had become before he straddled the body and stabbed repeatedly. The overkill was unnecessary and Sam couldn't forget the blood that covered his brother's face, while Dean didn't seem to want to stop.

Sam hated what his brother was becoming, and he hated that Dean was trying his best to justify when he kills. That he claims to be "nothing like Cain" in the sense of being a ruthless murderer. But in Sam's eyes, and in the eyes of their friends, Dean was changing and he was no longer the man he once was.

The only thing that Sam wanted outside of killing Metatron, was for his brother back.

Which then brings us to Dean.

He wished his kid brother would keep his nose out of where it didn't belong. Sam had no idea what he was going through, how could he? He had the power to beat Metatron now. And he could bet that he was able to beat practically anyone effortlessly if it came down to it. They could finally save the world for good.

He looked down at his arm and gazed at the mark, gifted to him by the father of murder himself. He knew he wasn't like Cain. When he killed, he had a reason. that reason was to kill all those evil sons of bitches that got in his way.

Although the constant burning from the mark, the constant urge to kill, he couldn't help but wonder that with his brother's nagging actually had some kind of truth. He didn't understand what the hell was happening to him, but he knew that right now it didn't matter what was happening. They had a task at hand.

So now, Dean had yet another meeting with Crowley since Sam was having a meeting with Cass to see if he was having any luck with the factions to beat the former Scribe of God. And that's exactly where he was.

Dean sat down in a booth of a bar, leaned up against the back of the chair, with a glass of whisky on the rocks. The King of Hell was sitting across from him with some fancy kind of drink with one of those tiny ass umbrellas.

Honestly, Dean didn't really know why he was still bothering to see Crowley. He wasn't even sure if he would even get the answers he needed from the demon but he knew he needed to at least try something. He didn't really find much of anything in the books in the Bunker's library.

So a visit with the King of Hell was the next best thing, even if the bastard was on his kill list after Metatron.

"I take it the angel hasn't had any luck finding that winged wretch, huh?" He asked, his accent thick and Dean rolled his eyes a little.

"Small talk? Really? Isn't that beneath you?" The hunter asked, a little impatient.

"Woah now, Squirrel. Just trying to have a bit of conversation. Didn't think that was so wrong especially after you bloody Winchesters kept me locked up for so long. You should be glad that I'm talkative and even willing to see you now." Crowley pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let's just cut to the chase, alright? I don't even like being around you as it is." Dean continued, the demon placed a hand over where his heart would have been and feigned offense.

"So why have we arranged to meet?" Crowley asked, "I've already got what I want. Abaddon's gone and I'm the ruler of Hell again and I'm busy trying to get my kingdom back on track."

“I’m not gonna ask you to track down Metatron. I just want to know what the hell this mark is doing to me. I get enough of Sam bitching at me about how this thing is supposedly changing me. And I-“

“Let me guess, you want it to be nothing that way you can tell Moose you’re perfectly fine so he can get off your back. Am I correct?” The Winchester rolled his eyes a little but he couldn't exactly say the demon was wrong.

"So what's the deal with the damned thing?" He asked while Crowley took the cherry off his fancy little drink and ate it.

"Squirrel, I'd hate to tell ya, but I don't know what's going on with the bloody thing. Not a lot of people know how it affected Cain himself other than it of course gave him some sort of power, a thirst to kill. No one truly knows how it will effect the mind of the wielder." Crowley answered.

Dean didn't really know how much of what he was saying is true or if there was any more to this mark that the demon was holding back. But he didn't have the leverage to make him tell more.

"Well, if that was all you wished to know, I'd say that was a waste of chatting on. I'm surprised Sam isn't with you. Or are you still having marital problems?"

Dean's jaw tensed a bit. Things were always up and down between them and it didn't get much better after he got Cain's mark. There were times he liked to think they would still be there for each other, and he knew Sam was trying to look out for him. But it was just getting on his nerves.

"Other than this stupid mark he's wary of? Things are fine. Just focused on the job. The sooner Cass's group tracks down that asshat, Metatron, then the sooner we can focus on the next thing that comes out way." He said and the demon hummed a little.

"A hunter's work is never done. I can't say I pity you. But since there's nothing else to be done at this moment, I think I'll take my leave. Ciao."

Before Dean could protest, Crowley was gone. Dean grumbled to himself before he rested his arms on the table. Then he glanced down at his arm, looking at the scar.

Cain said there was a great cost with bearing this mark. At the time Dean was laser focused on killing Abaddon. But should he have taken things more into consideration?

Sam met with Castiel in his quarters since Cass was needed there while his followers continued the pursuit of Metatron. So now the two were simply in the angel's office so they could converse in private.

"So how are you holding up with the stolen grace?" Sam asked as a bit of an ice breaker and he watched Cass smile slightly, knowing that he'd say there was no need to worry about him.

"I can assure you that I'm holding up just fine for the time being. There is no need to he concerned when there are other important matters at hand. I know you came because you're worried about Dean," The angel said in his usual monotonous tone.

Sam gave that slightly awkward but point taken grin of his before speaking again, "Yeah, well, uh.. It's just that mark he got from Cain."

"You see that it's effecting him too. And what are you suggesting that we do?" Castiel asked, "You know that he cannot be without the mark until Metatron is defeated and he is the only one that can use the First Blade. You are already doing all that you can by not bringing it on every hunt you're on."

Sam sighed a little. He supposed the angel could have been right but even so, it wasn't comforting. Somehow it just wasn't enough. He's already thought about locking Dean up in the dungeon without the blade for a while so he's not a danger to anyone else yet.

Of course, the key word was yet. So there's a chance that Sam would have to do something that extreme.

"That's not enough, Cass. I don't want that stupid thing to affect Dean more than it already has. We have to come up with a plan or find someone that can at least help the situation before it gets any worse." The younger Winchester said.

The angel looked down at the hunter while he was sitting in the chair in front of him. He could tell just how worried the brother was and he knew that it was something that would never change. Even if there was seemingly no way for there to be any kind of relief before the changes worsen, he knew that Sam would stop at nothing to find a way to protect his big brother.

"There... there is a rumor amongst demons and angels alike." Castiel finally spoke again, causing Sam to perk up.

"A rumor? A rumor about what?" Sam asked as he sat up in the chair, giving the angel his undivided attention.

"It's simply a hearsay, so I can't promise this as some sort of definite truth so you must keep that in mind.'' The man in the trench coat warned.

"Yeah, yeah, just get on with it already."

"Well, there is a matter of Cain's descendants. Of course the ones mentioned in the Bible are dead because they were mortal and there are few left that carry Cain's blood in their veins. And even if they did, they wouldn't care his mark." The angel began.

"Okay, well what does that have to do with anything? If his decedents are slim pickings and they're human, it's highly unlikely that they'd know anything about the mark."

"Sam, I would appreciate a lack of interruptions if you'd like to hear what I have to say."

"Right. Sorry."

"Anyway, as I was saying, there is a rumor amongst Angels and Demons that there is one specific relative of Cain. One that wouldn't be mentioned in the Bible because she was conceived long after the book of Revelation was written. It is said that she walks among us to this day. The direct Daughter of Cain and Mistress of Murder. She is the spawn of a Knight of Hell and the Father of Murder."

"Wait, I thought Cain killed all of the Knights of Hell except for Abaddon who got away. How can she be a spawn of the both of them?" Sam asked, totally at a loss by the idea.

"Demons have their ways. Speculation from the ancient demons such as Azazel back in the day said that somehow, the demons obtained some of Cain's DNA and somehow used Abaddon's DNA, created a spell and Abaddon became pregnant. Cain's daughter is the first born-demon. She was born with the mark. All through experimentation and magic." Castiel said.

"That's insane! I knew demons were sick but this is just dispicable." Sam said and shook his head, and the angel couldn't help but to agree.

"The purpose of this was of course Abaddon's idea so that she had the perfect weapon to use against Cain. Cain supposedly doesn't know of his own daughter's existence and because she was born a demon rather than dying and becoming a demon, she is still living and arguably just as powerful as Cain himself, if not more powerful. But it's said that because Cain was once human, and Abaddon, of course, conceived with a human vessel, the child had some humane traits."

Sam was shocked at all of the overwhelming information. A demon that was born rather than a human dying and becoming a demon or being possessed? All of this was a bit much to grasp.

"So if this girl is still alive, why haven't we seen her? You'd think she'd want some sort of revenge since Dean killed her mother, right?" Sam asked.

"Well, that's a little complicated. The Mistress of Murder was not trained with the concept of family. It was said she and Abaddon never got along and because they clashed, supposedly because of her father's traits, she favored the idea of free will and not taking orders like Lucifer's demons. That was the time Abaddon told the girl who her father was and because she favored the human's idea of free will, she fought her mother and left Hell before going into hiding. Much like her father before her."

"That doesn't make any sense. Demons are pure evil right? How can one favor humanity? Especially one that you would think is born a demon." Sam continued.

"To be frank? That's the part that confuses everyone. That's why angels and demons only say this is a rumor rather than truth. There can be contradictions but some battle the contradictions and claim the humanity comes from faulty magic." Castiel answered.

"Well, first we'd have to find out if she's even real, right? Then maybe she knows something about the mark and can help us. If she was born with it then surely there's a way to subside it." Sam said, suddenly getting hopeful.

"Sam, this is going to be a bit complicated if she does know something. The mark is dangerous on anyone. And because she was born with it, because she's been killing since childhood, you don't know how she's handled her murderous urges over these last few centuries. She may not have the self restraint Cain supposedly had." The angel warned and Sam got up.

"We still have to try. She may not know how to get the mark off, but I'll take even the smallest bit of help rather than nothing."

Meanwhile, in Cincinnati Ohio, there was a little tattoo shop. It was a quaint little place that had been in business for a little while now. About four years to be exact.

There, sitting in a small chair with a handheld tattoo machine in her grasp and working diligently on her artwork, was the owner of the shop. A girl that no one truly knew anything about, but the mystery was a part of what kept some people coming, outside of the artwork.

You had practically shown up out of nowhere, bought a little building, renovated it and turned it into the little shop it was today. You were talented with your work, but outside of the fact that you were the owner of this place and had plenty of experience with your line of work, no one knew anything about the mysterious tattoo artist with the badass mark on her arm. Granted you enjoyed lying low and staying away from demons and angels alike, you got bored. You knew exactly where Cain resided before the current King of Hell and some human went and bothered him. But you yourself had never decided to go and meet the man you inherited the blasted mark from.

You didn't spare your father's life because you had compassion. Frankly you didn't care enough about your so called father to spare his life out of love. You barely knew the man. It was more to spite your mother.

You wished you could say you hadn't killed in centuries and of course you knew it was out of your demonic nature. But you figured if your father could walk away from Hell even if he was a demon, why couldn't you?

Of course, the urges were there. The thirst for blood was there and it never left. The burn from your mark ignited your entire arm constantly. It was a perpetual pain you endured.

But because you can't say you were clean of killing, that only meant one other option. You still were a killer. No one had shown you what it was like to be human and not kill. You couldn't deny your demon blood. You refused to go back to Hell, you didn't care to aid angels because they'd kill you anyway.

Humans though, as ideal as it may seem, their deaths cause too much attention. That would ruin your chances of lying low. Plus humans tend to miss other humans and you didn’t want to be investigated over a missing person’s case.

But with the ever growing pain in your arm, you found that you liked the hunters' idea of killing monsters. Victims that no one would miss. They don't have souls so it's not like their death would benefit heaven or hell.

So the monsters were your designated victims, at least for now. Hey, the mark never said who you had to kill. And even if you did want to kill humans, you refused to give Hell the satisfaction of giving them souls. And over the years, you had fun with it once in a while, depending on how demented the monster was.

"Hey, Y/N?" Your client asked as he sat up when you were done with your work. You hummed a little as you got what you needed to make sure the tattoo would be protected during the healing process.

"I was wondering if you were taking any apprentice positions. I have this nephew who's getting out of high school and he's got talent. He want's to go to college and get some kind of art major but he needs a job since his financial aid and scholarships won't quite cover everything." The client said.

You lifted a brow. This was the first time something like this had come up. You didn't plan on working and teaching someone else. Let alone a human, but because of your senses you knew that this was no human.

"Let me think about it. I'll get back to you." Was all you decided to say and he got up out of the chair.

"Huh, so they say you do have a human conscience after all, Mistress of Murder."

You hummed a little and took your gloves off before standing up, not bothering to look the demon in the eye when it showed off his black eyes to you.

"Oh no, Kid. I was just entertained by your charade. I thought that I would play along just for your sake. You do well acting human, but don't you have a new king you should be serving?" You asked.

"Well the new King of Hell has tasked me in finding you and bringing you back to Hell wince Abaddon is dead. So if you'll just come with me then I'll go easy on you." The demon said and you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"Oh how merciful of you, Mr. Demon. But unfortunately for you, I don't plan on going anywhere, and I certainly don't plan on anyone ever finding out where I am." You said.

"Very well. Have it your way." The demon said and he lunged at you with all the force he could muster but you took a hold of his wrist, unphased by his attack.

"You must be new to this demon thing. You're the weakest little pest I've ever seen." You said and you gripped even tighter and the demon was unable to move when you pinned him to the floor.

Then you placed a hand on his head, his black eyes widening with horror and when he tried to leave his human vessel, your eyes glowed red and you smirked, "Oh no, I don't think so, Love. You came in my territory, and you won't be going anywhere."

Then the demon started convulsing beneath your touch, the human body was growing hot as the demon started chocking. Then it started to vomit some sort of black liquid before it finally stopped moving completely. It lay there lifeless, eyes still black and wide open.

Then your eyes returned to their normal color.

"Well, it wasn't the most satisfying kill. But like I said, Kid. I don't intend on anyone finding me." You said and with the snap of your fingers, the corpse turned to red smoke and the mess vanished as if nothing had ever happened.

But one of the things he said stuck with you. You lifted your sleeve and looked down at your father's mark.

"So... she's finally dead. Too bad, I was hoping I'd get to her first."

Thank you!!!

Thank you guys so much for reading! Your support and feedback is greatly appreciated! Be sure to stay on the lookout for part two! I’m hoping to get it out soon along with a masterlist! You all are amazing! 🖤

Taglist:

@johannelis2302nely @justtrying2getby-blog @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @alternativeprincess @doctorlexilouwhosblog

[mothedmanillustration]

To go along with Augmen de Lute, this is Vanellus Plover! He's acting as Augmen's (very temporary he insists) second in command for the Arrowpoint Pirates.

A once important accountant, secretary, and scribe for Sir Crocodile, Plover finds himself without a home when the warlord is arrested. Since he was travelling with Augmen at the time, the hospitable captain offers him a place to stay, and while reluctant to stay on the loud party boat for much longer, he takes him up on that offer.

I've got more info and bonus sketches below under the cut and if you want you can check him out on art fight!

Height: 5 ft 11 in/180 cm Age:44 Pronouns: he/him Gay

Plover would not call himself a pirate, he doesn’t even really like being out at sea.

Nevertheless he finds himself as the acting second in command aboard Captain Augmen de Lute’s ship. Originally he was an important secretary, accountant, and spy for Sir Crocodile. After the warlord’s sudden arrest, Plover finds himself alone. His new task is to keep Crocodile’s confidential documents and accounting information safe from Marines and pirates alike who want those invaluable files, as well as trying to keep his various business deals accounted for and afloat.

Plover was traveling with Augmen at the time of Crocodile’s arrest. Augmen was escorting the secretary as a favor to the now former-warlord, and now Plover has nowhere to safely go. Augmen offers to let him stay aboard the ship, due to both his hospitality and his knowledge that if anything happened to Plover, he would draw Crocodile’s ire. Augmen also finds Plover to be an interesting traveling companion, something he is always in desperate search of, and enjoys teasing the uptight secretary.

Plover is confident, secretive, uptight, and always working. Even on Augmen’s ship, he’s often squirreled away in his cabin, typing away on his typewriter at whatever classified business he has and making calls on the Den Den Mushi. While accustomed to the refined high-society gatherings of the business world, he’s unprepared for Augmen’s more wild and hedonistic parties. Augmen tries to get him to relax and enjoy himself, though Plover is resistant, claiming to prefer work to enjoying such vices. He does, overtime, become more willing to have fun and indulge in his own interests. He loves expensive clothing, books, and bedding.

Fun Facts: -His name and design are a reference to the Egyptian Plover, a species of bird associated with stories of birds who clean crocodiles' teeth -Doesn't usually go by his first name, Augmen has also given him the nickname "Feathers", he dislikes it -He’d rather stay in for the night with a rare manuscript and an expensive bottle of wine than join in on Augmen’s fun, but he’ll let himself be dragged out on occasion. -He’s secretly a bit of a romantic at heart, he buys trashy romance novels at ports when no ones looking -He appears calm and collected, but he’s got a big temper, making him easy to rile up -He’s quite skilled in espionage, fencing, and book balancing -With no devil fruit powers, he protects himself with his elegant rapier and acrobatic abilities, he can handle himself well in a fight -He’s met Augmen a few times before joining his crew, but never stayed aboard long. He always thought of the man as reckless, lazy, and unserious as a captain. But through his time with Augmen he’s witnessed how dedicated and hardworking he his for his crew, underneath the care-free demeanor. He’s often exasperated with the captain but has gained a lot of respect for him.

[vu1pes]

Listen to me. Hey. (Grabs your jaw) Listen to me. Veronica would be fatter. The Creation Kit engine only has 2 human models rigged, and they're both pretty skinny (that's to be expected for the wasteland generally, but it could stand a little variety). Veronica's going on food runs- stop FUCKING squirming- and getting groceries for an ENTIRE bunker. You don't think she's loading up with the greasiest options from the Slop & Shop? She's femme but she has to wear scribe robes everywhere, and all she does is shop and punch (and lie). You know she's eating squirrel bits desolately in her bunk, staring at old Cosmo magazines. You know the hostile distance the other girls would hold around her, and how much harder she'd go in her exercises. Veronica would be BIG under those robes and I'm tired of seeing otherwise!

[pluviophile-imagines]

Give ✋🏻✋🏻✋🏻✋🏻

Extended argument from this drabble, which i cut for length; reader is gn but implied to be shorter than alhaitham (tho not smaller or by any significant amount)

“You stole my book.”

Your voice echoes in the vast, airy private room Alhaitham has squirreled himself away within. He remains silent where he sits in a plush chair, piles of similar books around him, and your footsteps are sharp as you approach.

“Nothing to say for yourself?” You cross your arms as you finally get close.

He doesn’t look up from the scroll he’s reading. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not even reading it, asshole.” You wave towards where the one you’re searching for lays, unopened, atop a stack nearly to your waist. His gaze follows your hand and he gives a little grunt of acknowledgement when he sees what you’re talking about, as if he hasn’t been acutely aware of what you wanted the moment you walked in.

“And when will you return to your actual research, then, instead of this little sidetrack?”

You pause. “I’ve been researching.”

Eyes sliding back to you, he tilts his head just barely, and you can see on his face that you won’t be getting the book—no, he’s decided to pick a fight. “Nothing of importance to your thesis.”

“Celestia’s sake, Alhaitham, I’m not doing this with you today. Give me the book.”

“How many times must I tell you that the Akademiya does not exist for your selfish, ever-changing whi—“

You lunge for it, entirely certain you’ll fail, and you do—he’s launching himself out of the chair faster than you can blink, grabbing you by the waist to slow you down just enough for him to snatch your book from the top of his pile before you can. His touch has your breath hitching, your mind acutely aware of how thick his arms feel around you and the warmth of his broad chest against your back.

Just as quickly, though, he’s gone. Those arms yank away from the hold on you like they’ve been burned as he raises to his full height behind you. Whatever lingering fluster you’d still been feeling is replaced swiftly by rage.

“You’re so childish,” you hiss, spinning around to face him. “Just give it to me.”

“Unfortunately I need it for my own research, which is why the librarians released it despite you hoarding it from others.“

“Hoarding it? That’s rich coming from the man who used his title to steal the book I asked them to hold for me just to piss me off.”

Those eyes narrow at you. “I would never abuse my authority as Scribe of the Akademiya in such a way.”

“Bite me,” you snarl, and instead of snapping back he casts his gaze aside. His jaw flexes, mouth pursed with a suppressed something you dare not think about.

“If you truly need this book so desperately,” Alhaitham begins, slow like he’s only just thought about it, “perhaps I would be more amenable if you asked politely.”

“I asked politely in the first place, you picked this fight.”

“I’d hardly call storming into my study room and making demands polite.”

Huffing, even less convinced you could possibly succeed, you make another attempt at grabbing your necessary research material that fails entirely when he just lifts his arm above his head and behind him. You end up stumbling into him instead, all but falling onto him, and pull back to save yourself the embarrassment of him having to catch you.

Though you don’t put too much distance between the pair of you. You remain close enough to lift a hand and poke your finger against his chest.

“Give. Me. The book.” You punctuate each word with a prod, rising further up on your toes every time. He stares down at where you’re touching him, then lifts his chin as he meets your eye and raises the book even higher, the corner of his mouth curling up just slightly in the hint of a smirk.

“I might consider it if you begged.”

“Wh— you—” You sputter for a moment before using the hand already at his chest to shove him away, acutely aware of the heat blooming on your face, not entirely registering how he uses the momentum of your push to fall back into the chair you’d found him in. “You’re impossible.”

And with that you turn to storm off.

[semperintrepida]

A chapter in which catastrophe strikes the orphan camp on Mykonos.

~~~

Autumn on Mykonos. Warm days, heavy-scented with figs and apples. Chill nights, clear and sparkling. The olive harvest has the farmhands working from dawn to dusk, and the fine weather allows the construction work around the estate to keep up a fast pace. In the mornings, I conduct household business: reviewing carpentry and masonry plans for the day; listening to Sostratos, Melitta, and Echekleia make their reports; and signing off on purchases that pour drachmae into purses around Mykonos.

Drachmae buys furnishings for the household, clothing for the staff, and wine for the pantry. Drachmae brings a priestess of Artemis to the villa to bless its new altar, and pays for scrolls I've commissioned from scribes across Hellas. Travelogues written by Herodotos and the histories of Thukidides, treatises on geometry and medicine—even the complete works of Sophokles. My library is beginning to bloom.

Every afternoon, I walk the hillsides above the villa to get to know my lands: its plants and trees, its predators and prey. Over there, the scarred, low-hanging branches of a pine are fringed with shreds of velvet scraped from the antlers of bucks. Dry leaves and acorn caps litter the ground under the oaks, the deer and boars having eaten their fill of mast, while squirrels, mice, and jays pick through the underbrush looking for leftovers. They're preparing for winter, and my house must do the same.

I enjoy these walks—the solitude gives me a chance to think—but on occasion, I'm joined by a ghost who moves as silently as an assassin while wearing the armor of a misthios. Sometimes, I find myself talking to her as if she's real.

[2xplusungood]

Massive Inscrpytion spoilers incoming

I have been obsessing over Daniel Mullens games (Inscrpytion, The Hex, Pony Island) and have so much to say about all three but the biggest thing I really love about Inscryption is the way it uses its own mechanics and balance as part of the narrative.

Part 1 starts off with Leshy's version of the game, which is both the most simplistic and least balanced. There are dozens of ways to absolutely break the game (ouroborus, squirrel totems, and the more puzzles you do, the more it gives you. )

This does three things:

It starts off the game by making the player feel clever, while actually its really just ushering them towards the real story.

It gives insight to Leshy as a character. While he's a huge nerd when it comes to atmosphere and storytelling, his ability to balance isn't the best, but thats not a concern for him. Both winning and losing are both equally valid endings to his story and beating him is meant to be a pyrrhic victory. The traveler stuck in his cabin is still at the mercy of the trickster god and his game isn't going to end at the first person to best him.

It establishes that "winning" the game isn't whats important, its unraveling the story hidden within. Theres two points where the pile of meat is used as a sort of "You're not as smart as you think" moment: Once when you beat Leshy and another when you use the storymode code to the safe in Kaycee's mod. "Good job you beat the 'game' now go actually solve the mystery" and "Good you remembered something from the story, thats not going to help you much here" respectively

Then you reach part 2, the "original" its a game made of intense compromise. Everyones ideas for mechanics in the game get equal footing. Unfortunately what this does is creates an overly complex mess of the game that is constantly introducing new mechanics in a way that makes it so that no one mechanic has any time to really be utilized to its fullest.

This also gives insight to Magnificus as a character. He's described as "Smart, always with a plan for everything."and is likely the mastermind behind the original inscryption. For him, its the perfect solution, everyone gets their mechanic in the game and the result is a game with a lot of depth to people who can wrap their heads around it. Like you really need to play through part 2 with the starting deck of each scribe to REALLY appreciate their mechanic because otherwise its spread so thin you get basically 4 fights before you have to learn another, and none of the mechanics are given the attention they deserve. Its a game that would likely scare off most new players as it dumps mechanic after mechanic on them. Thankfully for the actual game, the player just gone through a simplified version and can apply what they know from the from Leshy's game to the original inscryption (This is why Leshy the "Sacrifice" boss and Grimora the "Bone" boss are the first fightable bosses as both use mechanics the player is already familiar with)

Then comes PO3, his ultimate goal is "Get it into people's hands" so that the time they've spent imprisoned hasn't been for nothing. His version of the game is the most balanced out of the of the three, mechanically the best, everything else like story and art falls by the wayside. The only real way you can "break" his game is by using your own cards, which is the point. You can easily make an unbalanced card, but making one that is useful but not broken is the hard part which is what he's showing you by letting you make your own card.

Then you see Grimora's version. You dont really get to play it enough to really explore it to its fullest and thats the point. Erasing everything wasn't a decision she made lightly and you see exactly what shes giving up. Whatevers hidden within the OLD_DATA is so dangerous that shes making the decision to never let her version see the light of day despite all the work shes clearly put into it.

Then you meet Leshy again. Through the course of the story at this point he's gone from some sort of baba yaga-style boogieman to just some guy with a lot of really great ideas and a story to tell who just wanted a chance to share that with someone. YOUR life was never really in danger playing with him, those deathcards simply labeled each of your attempts at his game, and thats all it really was:A game. His last request is that you just sit with him for a few moments longer, playing his game and not even taking score any longer. Its also a great moment becuase its a little reminder that even though his version of Inscryption was the least mechanically sound, it was arguably the most memorable.

Then you have Magnificus's scene. As a side note, I love this scene of him going full mask-off about him being a huge yugioh nerd (especially as someone who grew up playing those yugioh gba games. If I was a symbolism nerd I'd say his section is symbolic of his own plan for the game: The four mechanics fighting with each other endlessly, neither side really making any progress until it just sort of ends abruptly. It also shows his own ignorance, despite portraying himself as the wise wizard, he has no real knowledge of the OLD_DATA becuase if he did, he would know that his game is not worth it.

We don't know what exactly is in the OLD_DATA but we know its BAD. I'm gonna be diving into some speculation here, but my personal interpretation so far is that Hex and Iscryption canonically connected through Gamefuna, and my belief is that there is another connection to Pony Island that just hasn't been made itself known yet.

What I know is Gamefuna was the company in the Hex and caused the events of that game AND Gamefuna was also the developer of Inscryption in-universe. Its not unreasonable to assume Gamefuna used the same tools to create Inscryption that they did to make all the other games they made in The Hex, and my theory the toolkit they used came from the same place Pony Island did. (Keeping things vague cuz I dont want to spoil the other games as well, but definitely recommend playing both for a deeper understanding of Inscryption)

[yugonora-comic]

By the way, the comic will continue updates on April 20th!

[astriiformes]

On a better note -- my 2022 still had some real bright spots.

I feel like I've really come into my own as a cosplayer. I worked on a lot of costumes this year (Caleb! Raine! Flyer Derby Hunter! A remake of my Percy de Rolo, and my sister's Cassandra de Rolo! A first draft of Palamedes!) and got to have a lot of really neat experiences as a result -- marching in the Twin Cities Pride parade as Raine and having a ton of people get really excited/emotional, running the TOH photoshoot at DragonCon, and even performing a whole filk concert in my Raine costume. And I'm excited to make more things in 2023!

I also made it back to Colorado for the first time in four years, which made me really emotional. Things are still rocky with my parents (especially my mom), but I still love my family and I finally really feel like things are headed in a better direction for us all. And of course, any time I get to see my sisters is the best. Driving up into the mountains for an adventure with them and Scribe (and also getting to meet my Chelle's girlfriend!) meant a lot to me.

And I did science! I always thought field work was somewhat out of reach for me, but my summer job as a field tech was such an incredible experience. I loved the scientist I worked with and who remains a great contact for me to have in academia, the work was really fun, and it was both interesting and hilarious to work with squirrels for several months. Academia may be trying, but I'm so glad I got to be a part of some cool research. Similarly, I am so glad to have made some wonderful friends at school through our queer student organization, and even have some professors I've really connected with.

Glad there's still good to cling to <3

[inscryption-gamers-au]

dang, a whole path? Leshy had to follow a random squirrel around: You’re lucky!

[The scribe of the dead giggles]

"Well it was thanks to Magnificus's light spell, was it not?"

"... Mhm."

[If I may remind you, this was not my plan for the game. There is another scrybe to be found]

[soulstagger]

"Ms, Are you ok? You seem to have bumps on your head?" (Scribe to Vaimiti)

"Monstrous evil squirrels did this to me because I ate his apple!"

[her0loll4]

My caffeine-fueled odyssey begins

Alrighty, folks, hold onto your hats because I'm diving headfirst into the chaotic world of multichapter fanfiction! *cue scattered applause and whoops from the audience* The master plan is drawn, and I'm currently scribing away at the prologue like a caffeinated squirrel on a mission. Get ready for a wild rollercoaster ride through angst and darkness, starring our beloved Seiftis pair. But fear not, for in the midst of all the gloom and doom, I'll sprinkle in some romance like confetti at a clown convention. Because let's face it, these two can't stay sad forever – it's bad for their complexion! P.S. Oh, and here's a little twist: I'm actually penning down my fanfiction in Italian first because, you know, it's my madrelingua (that's fancy talk for mother tongue). Then, I'm enlisting the help of DeepL to sprinkle some English magic on it. All hail to the mighty AI, the wizard behind the linguistic curtain, making our multilingual adventures possible! 🙌