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ciar-galyna · 6 months

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A Court of Shackles and Glass

Chapter Two

Word Count : 5.6k

Warning(s) : Brief mentions of depression

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Lyphon

There's something calming about laying in a field of grass and small flowers, listening to the soft hum of the wind and the occasional gentle melody from..whatever sings here. Everything smells so nice and fresh here. There was nothing but darkness and chains in the prison, so to be able to do this, to be here, outside of the wretched cursed cube, feels like a miracle.

I soak in all the sounds and smells and the feel of anything, wind or grass. It's all so refreshing and..different. There are some places like this back home, but most places are crawling with creatures that could absolutely hunt and kill you. Plenty of the plants aren't all that nice too. So to be somewhere so peaceful and safe feeling, it almost feels like a miracle.

I close my eyes, letting my eyes rest a little. Despite wearing a bandage around my eyes, it can still be a little bright for me. Light and red still bleeds past the bandages. While it may be dim, it's a slow process, getting used to the light again. Lucien, the male who smelled of apples and a burning hearth, had been kind enough to give me a bandage for my eyes. We're both hoping I adjust quickly so I can use something else. Tamlin, the High Lord of the Spring Court, where my prison was place apparently, had been generous enough to give me a guest bedroom in his manor, which doesn't seem to be in the greatest condition based on how much rubble is on the ground and how poor the quality of some of the house feels. I suspect it was much better some time ago, but right now just based of touch, it feels like it's seen much better days.

The grass shifts beside me, like someone stretching out as they sit down. I turn my head slightly. The smell of the rain and earth greet me, followed by a sense of something powerful and great being there.

"Good afternoon, High Lord. What brings you here today?"

High Lord Tamlin sighs a little quietly. He's been asking me a few questions every day, learning more about my home and family, having anyone willing search through any records that could verify anything I've said. I warned him that I'm not sure if Prythian ever kept any records on my family or any trades or alliances or even enemies. My home Court has long been forgotten I'm sure, and we never really tried to reforge any relations with Prythian. Naturally this makes me incredibly suspicious, possibly insane looking. However, appearing in a buried prison that looks like it wouldn't belong anywhere in Prythian sort of helps my case.

"Tell me about this End Court of yours again, everything."

"Very well. It is miles above the Night Court, you likely won't find it on a modern map, perhaps a very ancient one if you like to keep those around. The terrain varies, but it is mostly made of forests, mountains and great rivers or lakes. There is a cliff facing Prythian that my siblings and I would sit on the edge and watch any approaching ships and visitors. The inhabitants also vary, however majority are beasts, and not the kind it's easy to win against. There's even a colossal dragon that towers over the Court when it wishes. Lucky us my sister, ever the beast tamer, befriended him. That being said, there are Fae that live there. Mostly in towns since the forests aren't always the friendliest.

"My family has been the rulers of the Court since the beginning. That being said though, there are at least two other figures in the End Court that hold power in politics. Technically the Court is, or was, divided into three different territories. A third was ruled by a creature known as 'The Emperor'. He's known for his shapeshifting capabilities and immense power. He doesn't even need a spellbook to cast spells or curse someone. Half was ruled by my family or at least the High Sovereign. And the final sixth is ruled by another creature known as 'The Sorcerer'. He too has great power, however he doesn't tend to get involved and most of his territory is fairly empty creature wise. In..not very recent events, The Emperor decided he would allow the High Sovereign to rule his people, so long as they never forgot to respect him and that he rules a third of the Court. And that, High Lord of Spring, is the End Court in it's barest of bones."

The High Lord hums, staying quiet for a few moments. If he really wanted to know everything, I'm sure we'd be here for a few days, going through it all, and I don't even know everything.

"The End Court, do you believe it was created with the rest of the world? By the cauldron?"

It's a question I wasn't fully expecting..and not one I really have an answer too, but I can't give him nothing.

"I...don't know. Probably. It's what most of my family believes, but it's not clearly stated in any records or history books we have. I've asked my Great Grandfather about it and he..was incredibly vague, I didn't really get an answer from him. I do know that once he did mention he suspected that the End Court originally acted as another version of the Prison, the one found in the Night Court. And my family was it's wardens. It would make sense, but I honestly don't have much proof of it."

High Lord Tamlin hums again, taking in the information. I sense he's getting a little annoyed with the less than proven information though, an annoyance steadily building at the more I tell him, the more people come back with nothing to confirm my answers. If I'm not careful, or I can't prove anything, I could very well be endangered.

"So then, what exactly do you have as definitive proof of these claims? No records have been found of anything mentioning or discussing the End Court nor anyone with the last name Mortis, aside from one man, many many millennia ago."

"That, is likely my Great Great Grandfather. Many called him 'The Knight', but he was far from the virtuous kind you might imagine. The Mother sent him to the End Court. Either as a death sentence, or a way to control him. Either way, he's still alive and perfectly capable of reliving his bloodiest days."

I almost chuckle, he was one incredibly feared man while he was still in Prythian. But I wave a hand in the direction of the trees in front of us, a squirrel, or at least a formally living one, comes running over, eager to be pet and fed and played with. I can hear the disgust in High Lord Tamlin's inhale, the slight increase in his heart rate. The smell of death and rot follows the animated squirrel, who I pet happily. The smell is not pleasant, but it brings me a strange comfort. And it's a relief at the success of this squirrel. I feel as if all skill I had with my powers has really gone down the drain, all the lack of use really coming in to hit me like a charging drake. I've started going through the forest on walks, joining some in hunts, searching for anything dead, anything small. And so far, this is the second successful squirrel. It's depressing to think of how I was able to raise armies, how my siblings could take down legions, and that now we're all likely husks of our past selves, all because our pathetic, moronic cousin imprisoned us just to stand a chance against us. Even if he's dead I won't let him rest for long.

"Anyways, it would be much appreciated if you asked around about my sister and brother. They too were imprisoned, I don't know where, else I would've made a specific request. But they're both my older siblings. Achlys is the oldest, he was a general back home and he was skilled with any metals or earth, by that I mean stone and dirt. He's a bit more on the...lively and zestful side. My sister on the other hand is named Gyn and she's excellent regarding anything with cells. Father focused on teaching her how to rule a Court...which makes sense. Like I think most Courts, the High Sovereign is chosen usually chosen through magic and based off power. She's the most powerful, and we've had one or two High Ladies before her. She's quiet, but smart..although she can really get exhausted just by being around someone. They'll both confirm what I've said and I'm sure they could even take you to our home, they were always stronger, and faster to learn and adapt."

I take a few breaths and clear my throat, I've already spoken more than I normally would and my voice is turning hoarse because of it. I'm little tense at the silence though. I know there's always a pause for when the High Lord of Spring is thinking through everything, absorbing the given information. But I already feel like I'm starting to walk onto a tight rope, what exactly can I give him that will prove everything? I'm hoping Achlys and Gyn have better luck than me, that they're already twice as strong and well trusted by whoever found them.

"Achlys and Gyn?"

"Yes. They're both older than me and...you'd feel the power difference, it's a little hard to ignore..my sister is compared by my family to my Great Grandfather and his Father a lot, power wise. Although, if you're really feeling bold, you could always send a ship, maybe journey there yourself?"

"Not happening."

I hum, it was mostly a joke, but it would be interesting if he actually liked the idea and considered it. Without another word the High Lord stands, walking away.

"Nice chatting with you..." I whisper, in some ways he reminds me of Great Grandpa, in the manner of a cold and pure business attitude, stoicism, and a need for something definitive to prove something..most times. In a way it's almost nostalgic for me, although a bit tiring. Lucien's company is a bit nicer, at least he's good at talking to people and understanding their emotions and motives. It reminds me of my own siblings and how they have different and similar traits of their own. Achlys is great with people, but sometimes cannot read a room for the life of him. Meanwhile Gyn is good at reading people and understanding them, however can be bad at social interaction.

I sigh, silently praying and wishing for their safety, their success, and that they find me.

Gyn

It's incredibly warm in the Summer Court, and bright. Definitely very bright. The Court is beautiful, truly, I have no doubt about that. However..in Adriata I have quickly learned there is a lot of gold, or very bright, reflective surfaces. Mostly water, which is deathly blinding for me on a good day. But there is also a lot of shiny, bright gold and white stone. Looking outside honestly feels like I'm kissing any eyesight I had goodbye. Permanently.

That being said, Tarquin, the High Lord of the Summer Court and the one who'd originally had the prison opened and me freed, has been incredibly kind and considerate, he even gave me a room underwater that stays dark most of the time. And he does his best to shield me from any light he thinks may be too bright while I'm outside my room. In return he's asked for information, which it's only fair I give him. To both of our surprises servants had found very, very old records that had mentions of the End Court and trades done between the two Courts. They'd even found an old map, though it does need a little updating since it's from when Grandfather was a child. But either way, it was a very pleasant surprise for everyone.

I hum quietly as I ascend the stairs towards the dining room. I tend to at least try attend every meal, it was tougher at the beginning of the week, when I was still weaker and needing practice and healing, sometimes servants would actively try to debate with me on not eating in my room. But it's easier now, my eyes are better, almost fully healthy now. Though, back home it was never really this bright, except on the cliff, where all you would see is the vast, sapphire sea and bright sky, if it wasn't too cloudy. Speaking of the sky, I've yet to see even a hint of a cloud anywhere between Adriata and the horizon. I can recall Tarquin laughed when I brought it up, stating bad weather was a rare occurrence for Adriata or the Summer Court in general, which managed to surprise me.

The servants bow their heads a little as I approach, pulling open the lovely doors to the dining room. I smile, thanking them by name. I did my best to learn everyone's names, though some servants had gotten too startled or were completely convinced I was tricking them and didn't give me a name. I still thank them regardless. My humming falls silent as I enter the room, shielding my eyes with my hand and smiling as Tarquin looks up. He grins.

"Good morning, Gyn. Did you sleep well?"

"It's getting a little better each night. Slow progress, but still progress." I take a seat, wings already shifting to get in the most comfortable position possible, despite the chairs not being made for those with them. Tarquin hums, taking a sip of whatever it is he's drinking.

"I had commissioned you a chair, by the way. Everytime you sit down I can't help but notice you look incredibly uncomfortable. It should be finished by the end of the week."

"That's too kind of you. Neither of us know how long I'll actually be here for, and besides, I'm used to this. I've met many who have never even considered getting chairs or stools for those who have wings."

"I'm not sure why you struggle to just say 'thank you' so much. And besides, you promised you'd visit. And for while you're here I don't want any of my guests uncomfortable. So I commissioned you a chair. I don't care if you leave tomorrow. Just say thank you. Don't tell me I've wasted my time and money on you."

I wince. I guess that was a bit rude, wasn't it? Mentally I scold myself. Manners and responsibility were the two things Father focused on the most when I was a child, it seems suddenly I forgot both of those things and needed reminding.

"I'm sorry..yes, thank you. It's very generous of you."

"See? Was that so hard?" He chuckles, stabbing his fork into half of a strawberry.

"...a little."

He laughs at that, going back to enjoying his breakfast. Sighing, I serve myself a few things, nothing too much though. We both eat in silence, either lost in our thoughts or listening to the crashing of waves. Occasionally Tarquin glances at me, clearly curious and wondering something, but it feels more like he's trying to solve a puzzle. He only speaks once we're both done eating.

"So...you've talked to me about your Court and what's it's like living there, yes? What about your family? Would you be willing to tell me about them?"

Slowly I nod. "Yes. I can tell you about them..um, ugh where do I start. Well, I have two brothers, who I believe I've already mentioned. Achlys, my older brother, and Lyphon, my younger brother. Our Father had been the acting High Sovereign until there was an accident and my Great Grandfather took over again. My Father passed away..a while ago, and it was soon after his death my Great Grandfather announced the next High Sovereign would be chosen soon. It was that night that my cousin, Ulysse had drugged us with a very heavy dose of something meant to keep abilities in check. With a small force he had dragged down to where the prisons were, the chains slithered out like snakes and one by one we were dragged into the prisons, sent off to wherever for however long."

Tarquin, leaning forward a little as he listens, a sympathetic look in his eyes. It's a little surprising, but it's nice someone is actually interested in what I'm saying. So I continue.

"Before everything that happened Lyphon had a lover and three children..I'm hoping they're all alright. The kids were fairly young when we were basically kidnapped, so I do hope they don't hate Lyphon when he comes back. I know his spouse was very understanding and loving, so I doubt they'd let them hate him." I hum, almost going deep in thought. "But I'm sure everything is alright, they are all strong and capable. And I'm sure my Great Grandfather will take care of them too."

Tarquin smiles softly, waiting patiently for a moment to see if I'll continue speaking. He speaks once he's sure I'm finished.

"I'm becoming curious about your Great and Great Great Grandfathers. Your Great Grandfather certainly seems to play a large role in your family.."

"..yes. The history of the Court and my family might or might not be necessary, but I'll still tell some of it anyways. My Great Great Grandfather...was..how do I put this. He..was a conqueror, a warlord that excelled in waging war and slaughtering thousands. He was a force all feared, so much so the Mother sent him to the End Court as a means of distracting and trapping him..my Great Great Grandfather is someone even the Emperor fears, and many say he was once meant to die like anyone else, but Death refused his soul, so now he can never die." I almost shudder at the thought. "No one in my family, but my Great Grandfather have seen his actual appearance. I can remember learning how everyone in my family, once they become between 10-15 years old, they're summonded by him. There's a tower he stays in, and my Great Grandfather brings you there. You'll be judged by him and you're either deemed a 'Knight's Child' or not. Very few of us have actually been deemed a 'Knight's Child'."

I'd met my Great Great Grandfather once, in person. The moment has never left me since. Nothing could have prepared me for him, his icy hands and vibrant, crimson eyes that just carve their way to your soul. It felt like the rawest form was suddenly exposed and being examined by the reaper. I'd never frozen so bad in a moment, I'd never felt a fear so carnal before, nor would I later in life. Some might laugh at the rumours, the tales of him, the creature he could become when high off bloodlust. But when come face to face with him, suddenly all courage bleeds out from your body and you're nothing but a pathetic mouse or insect under the eyes of a titan who had every right to kill you on the spot.

"Gyn? Is everything alright?"

Tarquin waves a hand in front of me a few times, making me jump slightly as I snap back to reality.

"Yes, sorry, just got caught up in a few memories, that's all."

"Are you sure? You'd gone rather pale and you..almost looked afraid."

"Yes, I am fine. My Great Great Grandfather was just terrifying to meet. Nothing happened, it was really just his prescense."

He frowns, but relunctantly nods.

"Anyways. My Great Grandfather is really important in the family. He's been basically someone we all look up to, but truly respect. He's on the colder side, but he can be loving in his own way. We have similar or matching abilities, so he was the one to train and teach me since no one else could fill the role. He's been ruling the End Court for some time, and we all trust his judgement, though he can be a bit blunt about it. And...I'll admit he's a lot like his Father, he's powerful, very much so. If he wasn't in the End Court, I'm sure he could or would have followed in his Father's footsteps.."

Tarquin hums, smiling a little.

"It sounds like you admire him."

"Admire, respect, whatever you want to call it. I do love my Great Grandfather, he's done a lot for me and helped me in many ways. I owe him a lot, honestly."

He chuckles at that, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip from a well made goblet with the style of crashing waves and seafoam. I smile, starting to dig into my chosen foods. Everything is always excellently cooked and appears both beautiful and delicious, this morning is no exception.

"I like speaking with you, Gyn, and I do enjoy your company. Would you tell me about your brothers and Father?"

I nod as I swallow a mouthful of a pastry, seriously who makes the food? It's incredible!

"Sure. Achlys is my older brother. He's older by about 12 years and he is quite...he's something else. He reminds me of fire in the way he burns with passion while being warm with love and care. But like fire he can be quite dangerous and chaotic. He makes an incredible general, but he has a bloodlust I've only seen in some of my family members. I respect his capabilities, but I also know he can be hot headed and hold a grudge, especially when family or friends are involved.

"Lyphon, on the other hand, is opposite to that. His attitude towards others is cold and harsh, something like a blizzard or some sort of winter storm. He has his own way of showing his appreciation for those he loves, and no he is not secretly some mushy, lovey dovey softie behind closed doors. He can be judgemental and ruthlessly correct any mistakes, even small ones, however he can understand you if you merely explain to him your motives or cause for purposeful 'mistakes' and everything is done out of love and a need for perfection from fear of something going wrong and someone getting hurt.

"As for my Father...well he was interesting while he was still alive. When I was a child he had me attend lessons preparing me to become the next High Sovereign since I was somewhere between 10 and 12. He would never give me even an inch with anything. He was strict and seemed to love teaching and encouraging responsibility and independance. I could beg for hours just to be able to play with Achlys, demand why he was never in lessons, why he could have anything he wanted and I had to do hours of homework and chores to even get a sliver of what free time he had. It was always the same answer 'you will be High Sovereign one day, your strength bleeds through you into the air like dust. You must be prepared for that day.' But he never answered me whenever I demanded why I had to be taught so young. He merely would mumble something about children being impressionable."

I sigh at the memories. I resented every lesson and night of dreaded, rotten homework made up of false. fictional reports, documents in need of signatures, and emergency events. For a while I envied Achlys, but eventually I gave up, merely looking down and going about everything like nothing mattered anymore. I had given up on the idea of having any sort of free time or fun, my childhood had been ruined and taken from me because my Father deemed it 'neccessary'. But...there were moments where Achlys shined, 'kidnapping' me to go have fun and explore and get me away from the evil paperwork. There were even days where I myself ran away into the woods to spite my Father, to get away. But that was a different time, and many things happened then.

The mood feels as if it's dipped a little, Tarquin watches carefully, almost studying me. I clear my throat.

"Sorry, that was a bit much..and biased. My Father wasn't terrible. But um..do you have anything planned today? I'd hate to keep you from anything important."

At that Tarquin smiles.

"Fine, I'll let you get away with that one. But actually no, today I am completely free. I was thinking I could give you a tour? Since your eyes seem to be better."

I smile, nodding.

"That sounds like a good idea, thank you. Though I'll probably need a wide brimmed hat.."

He chuckles. "That can be arranged."

Achlys

The hearth stays dead, I refuse to let it live. While the warmth of the fire would be nice, comforting almost, I'm ready for that light. Heavy, thick curtains hang from the windows, blocking out all light. Sunlight, moonlight, doesn't matter. Both are too bright. Starlight is..bearable, but the moon isn't usually fully gone from the sky or dark for very long. So the curtains stay shut all day and all night.

I hum softly as I play with the metal that makes my bedframe. Fenix, ever eager to hold things above my head and demand I pay him back with lives, gave me a room with many things made of metal. While most might find this place too cold and uncomfortable, almost insulting, I find it to be a sickening gift. Constant training and practicing has kept me exhausted the past week, but it's good. I'm improving quickly, growing back to my full strength. Soon I'm sure I could even leave on my own, venture out to find my siblings, maybe play hero. Their prisons were also solid metal, ancient and powerful metal, but still metal. And they're all massive too. It would be easy to find them and drag them up and out of wherever they are.

My humming stops as I sigh, a little heavily. That would be nice, wouldn't it? Swooping in and saving my siblings and being seen as their awesome big brother again, be seen as a hero in their eyes. The relief in their eyes when they would see me at the entrance to their cells, happily sputtering how they're relieved I'm okay and how I've found them. Yeah...that would be great.

I can remember many times I would rescue you them from whatever at home. Lyphon would go exploring in the woods alone, brave and strong, but not nearly as familiar with the creatures as me or Gyn. Wouldn't you know he's pissed something off and it's about to try to kill him for it, but I would swoop in last minute, getting him back home and going back to either calm or knock out or kill whatever it was. As for Gyn..well Dad really could be stupid. So focused on raising the perfect High Sovereign, so stupidly blind to how depressed he had made his daughter. I could remember how desperate she was to just have a smidge of the childhood she was supposed to have. So I did what I thought could help, I'd 'kidnap' her and take her to Great Grandpa's for however long and we'd have fun. Great Grandpa understood everything and he would never give us away, he even helped us a few times. Those were fun days, thrilling too. Dad would be livid when we returned, but I always managed to get her out of everything, and myself sometimes. It was always worth it, hearing my sister finally laugh and giggle, see her smile and actually react to everything, to see her look alive again. What I'd do to hear my siblings laugh again.

I close my eyes for a moment, letting the darkness envelope me momentarily. There's a strange peace in the silence of ones bedroom at night. And one that allows me the peace and time to think properly. Ulysse had mentioned Prythian as he laughed at us. Assuming he was laughing that we'd all be stuck here in prisons, that narrows down possibilities. There are only 7 Courts in Prythian. My gut tells me that we're not all in the same Court, that would be too risky for him. So that narrows it down to 6, then 5 if I figure out where one of my siblings is.

Ulysse knew some of our biggest fears based purely on incidents that happened when we were kids and the stories that were told. So, going off me as an example and good starting point. My prison was placed in a cave, a large, deep cave. I've hated caves since I had to fight a wyrm hiding in one, a vicious, massive wyrm that reeked and nearly ate me. So then, Gyn hates deep, dark waters. Twice she was dragged down into the deepest lake and forced to escape before something or someone captured her and kept her at the bottom. There's water everywhere, it surrounds Prythian, but only one Court is really known for its water, and why not put her somewhere she'll be surrounded by it 24/7? She'll have been placed in the waters of the Summer Court. Lyphon..is trickier. He's terrified of being buried alive after the Emperor used him as leverage and buried him in a coffin in the family cemetary. We only got him out because of interference from our Great Great Grandfather. I'm doubting he was placed in the Night Court due to it mostly being mountains. So there's only 4 Courts left. Spring, Day, Dawn, and Winter. I'm really hoping it isn't Winter. But the list has definitely narrowed down.

Huffing I open my eyes, a new determination in them. Sitting up I examine my bed briefly. It's a four poster bed, each corner holding a metal ball the size of my fist. Concentrating on one of them, I restrain the urge to reach for it and touch, that would make this too easy, the metal begins to twist and take a new shape. It stays quiet, much to my satisfaction. It only takes a little while before it stops, now appearing to be a simple, but strong flame. I nod, onto the next one.

It takes me a total of two hours for me to finish changing all four metal balls into perfect, sharp shapes. One corner fire, another a tree made of flowers, the third a clam with a pearl in the center, but sharp teeth protecting it. The last one a dragon egg hatching with a small dragon peeking out. I'm panting a little, exhausted but definitely happy with the work. They're all perfect, not a single mistake. I grin as my energy slowly returns within a few minutes. My stamina is returning. Soon the earth will tremble with every step I take, I'll be returned to my normal self, and my siblings will have a protector again.

Heaving a sigh I flop back onto the bed, head hitting the pillow and eyes closing. That's when it will be better, once everything is back to normal. Once we're home..and that sewer crawling dustmite pays for his betrayal. Yes, it will feel alright again. But until then..

Pieces of metal fly towards me, smoothly they fall and gently land in my palms. Somehow, these are easier to make than the actual shapes around my bed. The points form sharply enough you could stab someone with it. Perfectly shaped little holes form to make room for gems. They all form to fit our heads without discomfort. Once I'm home, I'll forge proper versions, but for now, once I see them again these will do.

Opening my eyes I check my work, just as I imagined. Three crowns, each unique to their own soon-to-be wearer. Harsh, sharp points join around in a circle for Lyphon, a crown that could be compared to daggers being placed in a circle to create it. Detailed, bone and vertabrae like pieces form elegant but sharp jewel, tear, or leaf shaped arcs around in a tiara form for Gyn. She'd definitely appreciate it and its detail. As for mine...one a true king, a true warrior would wear. A more traditional style, but a mighty one nonetheless.

I hum content as I sit them next to me, shutting me eyes to sleep. Soon. I would find them soon.

~~~

Hello, thank you for reading. I hope you're having a good day/night. Please remember to take care of yourself.

~~~

P.S. This fanfic is available on Quotev and AO3

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #a court of shackles and glass #a court of thorns and roses #fancfiction #chapter two #chapter 2 #acosag #mortis #tamlin #tarquin

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dragonkeeper19600 · 5 years

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What is the Medicine Seller?

The subjectivity of Mononoke is a large part of what makes the series unique. But, one of the biggest mysteries that the show leaves unanswered is what exactly the Medicine Seller is supposed to be. From his weird powers, traits, and appearance to the fact that he clearly doesn’t age, it’s an understatement to say that this isn’t a normal guy. All kinds of theories have been floating around about the Medicine Seller’s true identity, that he’s a onmyōji, a god, or some kind of benevolent mononoke.

However, for my money, looking at all the evidence combined from the show and Japanese mythology, I’ve concluded that the Medicine Seller is most likely a kitsune.

Now, I feel like most anime viewers have at least a cursory idea what a kitsune is, but just to recap: “Kitsune” (狐) is the Japanese word for fox. Traditional Japanese folk beliefs attributed all sorts of mysterious powers to foxes, including shapeshifting, creating illusions, and warding off evil spirits. Taking cues from ancient Chinese lore about fox spirits, kitsune have captured the imagination of Japanese artists and storytellers for centuries and continue to do so in the present day.

I’m far from the first person to come up with the “Medicine Seller is a fox” theory. It’s the only theory cited on the admittedly bare-bones Mononoke Wiki, and numerous commentators and Tropers have speculated that our favorite flamboyant exorcist might be a fox in disguise. So, allow me to take some time to display all the compiled evidence as to why I think this is the most plausible theory.

Let’s start with the obvious: The guy looks like a fox.

The red markings on his face are very reminiscent of the red paint you see on the traditional kitsune masks people wear around festival time. These markings are highlighted in the anime’s opening, so you can really see the similarity.

His long ears and fangs could also be considered vulpine.

The literature is rife with examples of foxy traits showing through a kitsune’s human disguise, especially when they’re startled or caught off-guard, such as ears, a tail, or canine teeth. We’ve never seen a tail on the Medicine Seller, but who knows what he’s hiding under that robe? I’ve also seen some sources claim that the tail will be revealed if you see the kitsune’s reflection or shadow. We haven’t seen either, so who knows?

Secondly, there’s a hierarchy to keep in mind when thinking about Japanese foxes. Some kitsune are holy messengers while others are malignant spirits that bring ruin to humans. Some are merely pranksters, using their powers to pull hilarious tricks on unwitting humans, sometimes to teach them a lesson but often just for shits and giggles.

Holy, high-ranking foxes are said to be messengers of the Shinto god Inari, the rice god and the patron deity of merchants and sword smiths.

Pictured: A merchant with a sword.

Fox statues like the one pictured above can be seen standing guard in front of Inari’s shrines, where they are said to ward off evil. The A-to-Z Online Buddhist dictionary has this to say:

“[T]he fox is associated with the concept of Kimon 鬼門, literally “demon gate,” a Japanese term stemming from Chinese geomancy (Ch: feng shui). In Chinese thought, the northeast quarter is considered particularly inauspicious. It is the place where "demons gather and enter." This belief was imported by the Japanese and is referred to as Kimon. Kimon generally means ominous direction, or taboo direction. In Japan, the fox is considered a powerful ally in warding off evil Kimon influences. Fox statues are often placed in northeast locations to stand guard over demonic influence, and two foxes typically guard the entrance to Inari Shrines, one to the left and one to the right of the gate.”

He may not be a statue, but “warding off demonic influences” is basically half of the Medicine Seller’s job description. He often uses seals, salt, prayer, and other methods accessible to humans, but the Bakeneko arc of Ayakashi clearly shows he can keep a mononoke at bay just by flexing really hard.

Yokai.com goes into some detail about the various ranks of kitsune, from the lowliest trickster to the most divine guardian. One rank of kitsune of particular interest to me is called the Kiko (気狐), a servant of Inari that has evolved to the point where it no longer has a physical form. Many Kiko adopt human disguises, but they have not yet ascended to a heavenly plane and so remain on Earth serving Inari’s will.

We have never seen the Medicine Seller eat, drink, or sleep. There is, however, one physical need that he does indulge in.

If you get my meaning.

Pictured above is the Medicine Seller’s extensive shunga (春画) collection. Shunga is Edo period porn, and it wasn’t exactly uncommon for merchants to be carrying volumes of shunga on their person. However, 20+ volumes seems a bit excessive to me.

It’s a trait that doesn’t come up all that much in Mononoke, but the first episode of Ayakashi’s Bakeneko arc reveals that the Medicine Seller is a bit of a horny bastard. He trades info on various virility and fertility medications with Kayo, a conversation that involves a lot of whispering into her ear. He was about to share his porn with Kayo before they were interrupted. I’m convinced that if Sato had entered the kitchen ten minutes later, she would have found the two of them fucking on the floor.

As anyone who's watched Naruto can tell you, kitsune are often associated with sex. Inari, among other things, is also a fertility god, and there are many stories of kitsune adopting human form and seducing unwitting mortals, running the full gambit from the horrific to the romantic. A good chunk of these stories involve the kitsune marrying their human beau and even bearing his children in some cases.

Most stories of this nature center on female kitsune, but it’s not like male kitsune don’t exist. The popularity of sexy fox women can probably be chalked up to male-dominated Edo society, but more and more male kitsune have been sighted in modern anime.

I believe we can add Mononoke to this number. Practically every woman in the series creams their pants at the mere sight of the Medicine Seller, and it doesn’t seem that their attraction is one-sided. The Medicine Seller has all kinds of sexual tension with Kayo in both series. And, if you look closely, you can spy some romantic tension with Ochou as well. There’s little doubt that the Medicine Seller is attracted to human women and is even capable of falling in love with them. However, due to his role slaying mononoke, it is unlikely that he can ever settle down and marry one the way many other kitsune do.

Personality-wise, the Medicine Seller is also reminiscent of a fox. Like I mentioned above, kitsune are often tricksters by nature. Although the Medicine Seller never acts in a needlessly malicious way, he does like to dick around with people. A lot of the aforementioned tension with Kayo takes the form of teasing banter.

Keep in mind: It wasn’t him who changed the compass. Which means he’s being vague for no other reason except to mess with Kayo.

He also spend a good portion of his arc in Ayakashi trolling the Sakai household, especially Odajima. And do we even need to mention his gambit in the Nue arc?

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So, his appearance, relationships, and personality are all decidedly fox-like. What about his powers? Well, in the Nopperabou arc, we get a pretty clear hint that the Medicine Seller’s physical form is just an illusion.

The Masked Man’s attempt to take away the Medicine Seller’s face failed because that wasn’t his real face. He outright compared his face to a facade. Since it was just an illusion, it was easy for him to change it back. It should also be noted that the Nopperabou, the faceless ghost, often appears not as an independent spirit but a hilarious prank that other yokai like to pull on humans. Tanuki, Manji (badger spirits), and, yes, even Kitsune have used the image of a faceless human being to scare humans. This is getting into fan wank territory itself, but it is entirely possible that the Medicine Seller is all too familiar with the art of face removal, having pulled that trick himself in his younger days.

That the Medicine Seller’s body isn’t real could also explain the nature of his Other Self. During his first transformation sequence in Ayakashi (which is repeated in the Nue arc), we see the markings on his face and robes disappear.

Before gold markings reappear on his Other Self.

It might be possible to think of this “transformation” as more of a body surf. The flowing markings could indicate the presence of the fox spirit as it moves from one body to the other. This is a good time to point out that gold eyes are said to be another common trait of kitsune, and white fur is indicative of an Inari fox. The Other Self’s long white hair may be a hint as to his divine nature.

Now, with all his powers and religious motifs, is it possible that the Medicine Seller is not a fox but in fact Inari himself? I did briefly contemplate that possibility, but I ultimately decided it probably wasn’t true. The Medicine Seller’s powers have limits that I feel a high-ranking god like Inari wouldn’t have. It looked like he did serious damage to himself trying to hold back the bakeneko in Ayakashi.

Ouchies.

Rather than being a human avatar of Inari, I find it more likely that the Medicine Seller is a kiko carrying out Inari’s will. In his first appearance in Ayakashi, some men spot the Medicine Seller standing outside the Sakai household, apparently talking to himself.

At the beginning of Mononoke’s first episode, he does the same thing outside the inn. His mouth is moving, but we don’t hear what he’s saying.

In both cases, the men who see him try to call out to him to get his attention, and in both cases he ignores them. He never says who he was talking to, and nobody ever asks. It is strange, however, that he always shows up just where a mononoke is going to be, even when he doesn’t seem to know anything about the mononoke before he arrives. Could it be he is actually receiving instructions from Inari? Inari might be telling him where to go, and the Medicine Seller figures out the rest from there. He can’t know about the mononoke’s form, truth, or reason yet, otherwise he’d be able to slay it right away. How else would he know where to go unless he was being told?

Of course, there are other possibility as to who he could be talking to. It could be his Other Self, if you hold the theory that the Medicine Seller and the Other Self are separate entities (which I don’t, so much). I also contemplated whether it was the sword he was talking to, but the sword is in the trunk. For my money, communing with a god seems the most fitting.

According to Shinto beliefs, foxes can live for up to 1000 years, which would explain why the Medicine Seller is still around after centuries have passed. But, what happens after the millennium is over? At that point, a kitsune sprouts its final, ninth tail and ascends to the heavenly plain, leaving this earth behind. I personally believe that the Medicine Seller has been tasked to wander the earth for 1000 years, slaying mononoke until his time is up. At that point, he’ll become a being as powerful as a god, but until then he must learn to truly understand humanity. Only once he has become thus enlightened will he be able to ascend.

This, I believe, is why the Sword of Exorcism can only be drawn once he’s learned the mononoke’s form, truth, and reason. He can only slay the mononoke if he comes to truly understand it and sympathize with it. It’s all part of a thousand-year long learning process in addition to aiding humanity.

And once he’s done, some day centuries from now, perhaps another young fox will take up the sword and walk through man’s despair, putting the souls of the anguished to rest.

It’s a lonely destiny, but it has its perks.

頑張ってね。

#mononoke #medicine seller #kusuriuri #theory #kitsune #fox #shinto #inari #ayakashi samurai horror tales #headcanon

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cosmostasia · 3 years

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Cosmostasia’s Story

So as I mentioned in my first post, Cosmostasia is the character that I played in a long-form Dungeons & Dragons campaign with some of my best friends in high school. Obviously we were all getting ready to graduate, go off to college, etc., so we decided that once we completed our last campaign objective, we would find a way to tie up the story. It was a kind of bitter-sweet realization, but we made a lot of amazing memories along the way!

I joined the game during my junior year in high school, probably a few weeks after the game itself was started. My then-friend (now girlfriend) was in the game and had invited me. This was my first game ever, and honestly, I’ve never had so much fun with D&D! Our DM was an expert in just about everything, ran the game smoothly, answered just about every question... He’s a great DM, but I’m sad to say that since graduation he’s had almost no time to run another game.

But that’s all reminiscence about better days, not the story!

My character - at the time, named Anastasia - was a shapeshifter wizard. Most of her studies involved mapping the cosmos, reading star charts, and understanding the movements of the celestial bodies. I’ve always loved space, so it felt right making a wizard who was also an astronomer!

As the campaign went on, my girlfriend’s character (a tiefling bard name Tarx) basically became Anastasia’s love interest. Yes, there was romantic and intimate involvement, but we never really went into that kind of detail at the table - it was more heavily implied, “fade to black” than anything. Of course, that never stopped my mind from racing and thinking about how our characters did things... Normally, Anastasia had a relatively small bust, but Tarx was pretty open with his preference. Anastasia, of course, is a shapeshifter.

You get the idea there.

Moving on though, we went on to deal with a lot of problems throughout the world, from roving bandits and raiding orc factions, to entire armies of undead being raised and controlled by an ultra-powerful lich named Victus. Victus would become a recurring villain for us since whenever we killed him, his soul just returned to his phylactery and he would reincarnate at an unknown location in the world.

Our final campaign arc involved the Queen of Sarpathion, Queen Anisterian von Draxxis. A few of our questlines had involved going and saving some of the princes and princesses of the von Draxxis royalty - apparently they had been kidnapped at different points and no one was able to find them. Or at least, no one was brave (or stupid) enough to challenge the people that did it. From bandit chiefs to full-blown warlords and archmagi, one of whom turned out to be an ancient black dragon (imagine fighting THAT at level 10!!). Well, we managed to round the three of them up and bring them home to safety.

W R O N G .

Turns out what we had actually done was deliver Queen Anisterian the three children she had borne specifically for a blood sacrifice. For context, the von Draxxis line were all tieflings - part of the only reason Tarx cared at all about them was because they were like him, and he’d been treated poorly in other kingdoms.

Apparently Queen Anisterian was waiting until just the right moment when a solar eclipse would coincide with a planetary alignment (which my character knew about btw! We had been talking about this for months in advance!). During that brief moment, the time would be right for her to sacrifice her offspring and drink their blood, turning her into a matron vampire.

What she hadn’t been counting on was that our party in had become good friends with Dimerius, Alistarge, and Valliana von Draxxis. Lots of fun adventures and hard-fought victories were won by their sides. As such, if she was going to hurt them, she’d be answering to us. She also didn’t know that this ritual (which was apparently copied from the Book of Vile Darkness) would also cause untold instability in the Weave around the ritual site. Basically, you use magic within a mile of this place, and reality has a pretty solid chance of just unraveling itself. Fun, right? We got to learn this because one of our characters was a less-than-good-and-not-in-a-neutral-way vengeance paladin, and he’d managed to catch a glimpse of the Book of Vile Darkness the last time we’d dealt with Victus. It was that moment when we realized something was up (you know, a section that explicitly states “the blood of three of the mother’s offspring” seems a little obvious). That’s when we started making our way to Castle Draxxis with some help.

This was around the time we were going to be concluding our campaign; we were all level 16 and were very capable of taking on such a threat. We’d worked with a lot of people and by that point, we were able to convince enough allies to band together and lead an invasion on Castle Draxxis. Of course, every time we had been there since the first time, the castle always felt slightly more... Off. And Queen Anisterian herself was sickly and unwell. She’d even made the comment at one point that her reign would soon be at its end, and then the kingdom must answer to her eldest son.

As we led the invasion, her armies fought as we suspected they would, up until the gargoyles adorning the buttresses and spires of the castle began to crackle and move. They came alive and made it impossible for us to march on Castle Draxxis.

The NPC that we’d appointed the sort of de facto general (Petram, a retired general for the army of one of the human kingdoms) told us to try and find a way in ourselves, and they would keep the bulk of the Queen’s forces distracted.

We make our way over the outer wall, fight off the gargoyles that noticed us get in, and made our way to a secret passage that Valliana had shown us. The Queen apparently hadn’t posted any guards at the passage, and we were able to make our way to the throne room with only a few brief encounters with royal guards.

By the time we had gotten there, the sun had been eclipsed by the moon and we could already hear the screaming. We opened the door as she was taking the last gulps of Valliana’s blood - the brothers already lay dead at the foot of the throne.

She underwent a violent transformation, and immediately forced half of the party to kneel before her (she charmed them and gave the command to kneel). Our cleric, Volmund the dwarf, was kept busy running around the room un-charming everyone, and Tarx did his best to help with his countercharm, but... her save DC was really high and we were not rolling well.

In the end, we had all been charmed and forced to kneel before her. She had been casting spells left and right, I had been casting spells, and because of the instability, we were beginning to notice reality shift and obscure. Of course, as we’re all powerless and unable to do anything, she began channeling a spell that was pretty much either going to kill everyone in the room except her, or tear through the fabric of reality. On the bright side, we all got to roll another save before her next turn, and then we’d be able to do something!

Except that we all failed. You know how people are usually like “Ugh I don’t want another elf in my party”? Make sure at least one of you plays a damn elf.

It got to my turn (right before hers) and I made my roll. Of course, I also failed. I then asked my DM if being charmed and forced to kneel also meant that I was unable to speak. He gave me a look, thought about it, and gave a smirk. “Sure, you guys are able to speak while you’re charmed - she didn’t say “Kneel and be silent,” so I’ll allow it.”

When we last defeated Victus, the one item that we were able to loot from him was this beautifully crafted ring. Everyone in the party already had a ring of some kind, so Tarx gave it to me as a sort of promise ring. However, our DM said that as I put it on, I felt this overwhelming magical energy flow through me (being that I was the only real magic-user in the party, Anastasia was sensitive to these things). I spent some time identifying the ring and learned that it was an innert Ring of Wishes! Of course, no charges on it so it was really just a fancy ring at that point. Everyone else had already forgotten about it, but I was texting the DM under the table and asking questions about the implications of having the ring near such a huge source of power/disruption. He said that it might (on a very, very lucky percentile roll) restore one of the charges to the ring.

I whispered into the ring, and said “If you can hear me... I wish for a way to survive long enough to fix everything Queen Anisterian has done.”

The DM raised his eyebrows, and rolled a percentile.

He laughed.

Hysterically.

Once he composed himself again, he said “Your wish... Has been granted.”

Everyone else at the table was just so confused and excited and panicked all of the sudden, and then, since Queen Anisterian had completed her round of channeling uninterrupted, was able to basically cast a spell that would drain all of our life forces until fell over as dried, dusty husks.

Before casting, the DM rolled a percentile (as he had been doing any time magic was used during the fight).

He laughed again.

“You all feel this horrible sensation as your blood, your life force, your very souls, are drained from your body. The pain is absolutely agonizing, and lasts for what feels like eternity in that instant. And then, as Queen Anisterian is laughing maniacally and relishing her new power, her hand suddenly flashes with a blinding light.”

He then turns to me specifically.

DM: “When you wake up, you don’t know where you are. As far as you can see all around you are nothing but distant stars and nebulae.”

Me: “Wait... What happened to everyone?”

DM: “The entire world blinked out of existence. You, however, have been granted immortality - and immunity - by your wish. You’re out in open space, but the lack of oxygen, the temperature... It doesn’t bother you, you actually feel fine.”

Basically, our DM had intended that a roll of 10 or lower on a percentile would cause reality to collapse on itself, but only enough to affect our world to different extents. Rolling a 10, for example, meant Castle Draxxis would blink out of existence.

He rolled a 1.

When he rolled for my ring, he rolled a 100.

We all kind of sat there basking in the sheer improbability of rolling a 100 and then a 1 right after (I think it’s a 1/10,000 chance? I’m an artist who likes space, not a mathematician). Then as the realization of what had happened settled into us, I had so many questions that I barely knew where to start. “Am I near where the planet was? Was I shot away from the blinkpoint, or was I teleported somewhere?”

He told us that I had basically been knocked out cold by the sudden magical reverberation (again, magic-sensitive) and fell adrift into space. Anastasia was able to identify where some of the planets were - the moon was not caught in the blast, but there was a massive chuck taken out of the side where the blinkpoint hit it and it was just floating adrift around the sun. From that, we were able to determine how long it had been (”Can I please roll an Intelligence check to figure out how long it’s been since the planets were aligned?” “Hm... Actually no, you just know how long it’s been based on their positions.”). Figured out that I’d been out cold for a week.

Anastasia panicked at first, frantically trying to get the ring to work again - but you know, it only regained the one charge. It’s innert. She cried for her friends and for everyone on her world. She cried for hours, knowing that she could have made a better wish. Knowing that her self preservation came at the cost of literally everything.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a glimmer. At first she thought it was a star, but realized it wasn’t one she recognized. She cast Fly on herself (can’t exactly swim through space) and made her way over, and as she approached, she found what looked to be some sort of crack in reality.

It didn’t take long for everyone to realize that this was the blinkpoint, and even looking at it made her feel like she was being electrocuted with magical energy. She decided that, being immortal, maybe touching it might do something? Who knows at this point, right? Even if it killed her or unmade her altogether, at least she wouldn’t be immortal and stuck with the guilt for the rest of eternity.

She reached out, and her hand connected with the fissure... And it pulled her in. She couldn’t see anything around her, being locked in an inescapable abyss. But that painful sensation that came from the blinkpoint had... faded. It was a dull hum in her mind now. She had the idea to cast Detect Magic, and the DM described the scene.

“You cast Detect Magic, and as you do, your eyes adjust to the scene around you, where you see all around you this intricate, perfectly woven latticework of microscopic threads. They cross in every conceivable direction, glowing in an impossibly numerous array of colors. This... is the Weave.”

By passing through the blinkpoint, I had basically transcended, and was able to perceive magic itself. And then, a voice came to me that caused every thread to resonate and vibrate.

???: “I see that you have found your way to that which lies between. A space betwixt realities.”

Anastasia: “Yes... I... Who are you? Can you help me?”

???: “I do not have a name. I am simply the Weaver of Magic.”

After a brief discussion about the implications of weaving space, time, and magic to bind everything together, the Weaver had a proposition.

Weaver: “You see, Anastasia... I also require assistance. Reality needs stability within the Weave, but I am unable to exist anywhere except within the Weave. I cannot leave this place. I could grant you the power to reverse the mistakes of the past, the power to right the wrongs of this Anisterian. But I would request that you act as the eternal guardian and curator of magic throughout the Planes.”

Anastasia: “Oh, I... I don’t know if I would know how to do that. You wield tremendous power, and even the gods find magic to be a fickle thing! Where would I even begin?”

Weaver: “Your gods find magic to be fickle because they have not embraced the Weave. You, however, may be granted this power freely.”

Anastasia: “You mean... You mean I could become a goddess?”

Weaver: “I do not fully understand these “gods,” but in your terms, yes. You would become Goddess of Reality.”

Anastasia: “That’s... more responsibility than I’ve ever known possible... But I can save my friends this way?”

Weaver: “I will allow you to undo the damage to the Weave. This will revert your reality to the moment before the threads were torn, and allow you to change the outcome of everything that had happened.”

Anastasia had to think long and hard about it. She would spend the remainder of her existence - the remainder of time - as a goddess, protecting and weaving magic throughout all of the Planes. That, of course, was nothing compared to the guilt of being the only survivor of her entire world.

She accepted the agreement, and the transformation began. Threads from the Weave wrapped themselves around her, covering her entire body until she was wrapped in pure magic. When she could see again, she was back out in space, adrift near the fissure. She looked at her hands instinctively, and noticed that her skin was glassy-smooth. Looking at her hands, her robes, her hair, she saw the same glass-like smoothness, but was able to look into herself and see the deepest parts of the cosmos within herself.

She had been transformed into the Goddess of Reality.

She looked to the fracture and began to focus. In the past, she was able to occasionally channel raw magic into different objects in order to activate them. She used the same process, but rather than the magic needing to be coaxed out of her, it erupted from her hands and shot into the fissure.

The fracture slowly crumbled into itself, and soon showed the entire world exploding in reverse. The moon lined back up with where it was, the planets unwound their orbits to realign, the planet reformed itself around her.

Within moments, she was floating just above the floor of the throne room right where she was, her hands raised at Queen Anisterian’s channeling hand. She held a hand out to Anisterian, and clenched her fist. Every thread of magic that had been woven into her unraveled and spun itself into Anastasia’s palm, and she was able to guide the threads back to the slain children of the queen. They would slowly reawaken and rise, and Queen Anisterian’s power was rendered innert.

Our party was able to stand up, and we apprehended the Queen and were able to throw her into the dungeons with no trouble. She was no longer capable of using magic in any form, so leaving her down there would pose no threats.

Alright, roll credits - that was the end of our campaign!

From then on, Anastasia changed her name to Cosmostasia, and wandered the Planes curating all of the torn threads of the Weave, ensuring that magic wasn’t being abused in a way that damaged it, etc.

Yes, Cosmostasia continued to visit her homeworld and help those in need, but given that she was a goddess and had some very pressing responsibilities, she couldn’t be there as consistently as our other heroes. Plus, when she was home, she was trying to take time off and be with her beloved Tarx!

If you made it this far, thank you for reading the entire thing!! I’ve always wanted to illustrate it and make a comic or something, but... that’s a project for another time lol. But now you have some context behind Cosmostasia!! :)

#D&D #Dungeons_&_Dragons #Dungeons_and_Dragons #D&D_Story #Space #Gods #Goddesses #Cosmos #Art #Roleplay #RP #Commissions #Campaign #Vampire Queen

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fyrapartnersearch · 4 years

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Howdy there! How are you?

Self

My name is James Home. I’m a 23 year old trans male from Olympia WA. In time zones that’s PST (Pacific standard time) am a visual artist, graphic designer, and storyteller. My Briggs acronym ENFJ. In saying so I’m a huge talker and communicator, physically and literally! Personal interests of mine include BOTW, FFXV, and Hanibal atm. I have a lovely and incredible wife named Isabella. We both additionally like DND (were even painting our minis), collecting Halloween decorations, and watching Avatar the last air bender with our roommate. Though I do have a history in plenty of other fandoms as well and always on the lookout for recommendations.

Preference

So for myself I love to take care of my Rp partners in all accommodations possible.

Meaning if your heart has been craving fluff, rough smut, or a plain ol hug. IM GAME! If none, no biggie let’s make a plot spot!

Roles I usually fall under are but not limited too….

-DOM , Vers, Power bottom

-caretaker, guardian, teacher

-father, handler, knight

-beefcakes, robots, selfless leaders

And so much more!

The roles I lean towards are

-caretaker, strong and silent-ish type, and flamboyant entertainers.

-male roles, trans male roles, open to trying a female role?, non binary, pangender role.

- I do enjoy topping, some aspects of BDSM, and some hard kinks.

-fallen leader, relearning about a loving world, hopeful in a dark world.

-not taking their role as important as they should have or are, “I’ve been doing this for years. But this is new”, and “I brought you your favorite drink wanna cuddle, I’ll provide the sugar?” Types

And so much more!

As far as story things themes are

-highly complex kingdoms

-High pace fantasy

-society by the ocean

-abandon green houses

-heavily dense forests

-fae and fiend worlds

-AUs of pre-existing universes from shows

-magic incorporated

-supernatural

Worlds we design collectively.

My HARD NOs are…

NO MINORS ROLEPLAYING WITH ME, 19 AND UNDER DO NOT APPLY

-abuse in active Rp (can be used from background and really has to depend on circumstance)

-harm of any children

-harm of expected mother

-any form of r*pe play

-blood play, degrading play, hard impact play

-crying kinks, humiliation kink, and electric play

-no smoking kinks either or character usage of substances.

Writing

I’m not too big on proper grammar or sentence structure as long as there was an idea getting across. I’m ok with role playing as many people as you’d like to actively work on, so doubles, and even triples are okay. Plus working two different stories is fun! I do prefer paragraphing and we all know the feeling of one word responses. This is a hobby and creative outlet from myself so that’s why I have no big stressors about punctuation or spelling.

Storytelling

Here are some story concepts I’ve come up with. Yet if you’d like to imply your own let’s talk about it!

Counterpart pathways

A magical filled fantasy realm where all is possible including the bad. One summer day a incubus/demon hybrid named Jona, father of three, learns someone has kidnapped all three of his boys! He's on the hunt for clues and finding them at all costs. Gathering the best crew possible of Moof the best wolf bounty hunter in all the realm, Bell the boys spider caretaker shapeshifter, and Glover the bull/bison hybrid the green alchemist, set off to find the children. Along the way by gathering clues they encounter obstacles and trials of skill and pursuit! Will they ever find the three octopus babies ? Will Jona have closure and put on a shirt? Will Bell ever stop stealing everything shiny? Will Moof grow more confident in his teammates? Will Glover not stop shaking and being such a wuss? Who will help this odd 4 on their epic abnormal quest?!

Puddles

A time traveler that gets stuck in between dimensions due to their powers temporarily weakened from the extensive work they've been doing end up meeting a stranger who takes them in. Not used to the timeline they shows up in, they have to knowledge of normal behavior. They must figure out a way to recharge their abilities but has not of the slightly clue as to what it causing them to have lost them in the first place. Is the person that's helping them good or evil? Who's side are they on? How will they figure them out? Why do they find the stranger oddly familiar?

When men become mortal

An alien/robot/human species that survives by using different masks/chips for various occasions. It's like buying different clothes but they adapt or transform the hoist for a month or less of another body/form/identity. The main character experiences a technical difficulty where their head socket cannot adapt to a new face for long and has to get it repaired. Though along the way he seems to find that not wearing a false identity they actually enjoy seeing the outside world with no expectation of appearance. The other is a identity artist, the one whom develops different faces and identity. He spends hours tweaking details of bodies and faces. He always has the nicest things because of his work and from important commissions and work for certain clients.They meet at a gallery that the artist is hoisting at a museum. The individuals there are decorated like some of the model pieces and others artist curators-part sellers. The faceless one decides to go to the museum to see what's or who's being showcased and since he has a little bit of extra money he saved up for the occasion. Everyone finds him interesting since he doesn't have an appearance, they think he's a model. Thus they send him to meet with the artist for the show. The artist doesn't know him at all. They find eachother very different but most parts similar. From their meeting the artist gets inspired by his original face. Coming to realize that even himself that he has given into the world he never wanted to.The two of them hit it off. Both dwelling into the matters of the "perfect" vessel. Asking the serious questions such as what makes a body, a face, a soul attractive? They go on for hours and it starts to inspire the artists work into his new resorted craftsmanship. The faceless impressed by the purposed questions and also work. The two of them grow closer resulted from talking so much about bodies and meaning. All the while testing out the new creations, body parts, and vessels capabilities. Not all though is good while the two develop this hoist. There's a villain at hand who one of the artist's main clients that goes unsuspected. They want to use the designs to create a vessel for the bad and wealth. Only to include to kill off all humans.The two of them hit it off. Both dwelling into the matters of the "perfect" vessel. Asking the serious questions such as what makes a body, a face, a soul attractive? They go on for hours and it starts to inspire the artists work into his new resorted craftsmanship. The faceless impressed by the purposed questions and also work. The two of them grow closer resulted from talking so much about bodies and meaning. All the while testing out the new creations, body parts, and vessels capabilities. Not all though is good while the two develop this hoist. There's a villain at hand who one of the artist's main clients that goes unsuspected. They want to use the designs to create a vessel for the bad and wealth. Only to include to kill off all humans. Thus forces the artist to reveal his true identity. A human being. Not a hologram. Plus he's not just an artist but a ex-con scientist from the labs that have bloomed into a internalized war. Faceless becomes confused and also hurt that the artist to mention this. Only for the two of them being followed. The artist informs the robot that the hybrids (the children of the robot-species, generations of offspring) are the real threat to society. The one who hoists and is in charge of the power sorce is human and machine. The first of its kind, and also the previous mentor of the artist/ex-scientist. Who will get to the power source first. Our main dynamic couple or the robotic uprising that believe all humans should cease to exist once and for all?

Gay Cryptids

Themes

Active night life

Next to the ocean, sea, body of water.

Beach city/lost boys/Mad max?/punk/ regal?/neon lights/old mascots/vapor wave af

Carnival / festivals

Dark market authenticity

Biker gang(s)

Aquatic features, art, incorporated in surroundings

Lifestyles like fish importing, dock workers, sushi shops, fancy diners

Common foods are all fish and sea foods

The city was a work in process for a resort city, and a major violent storm came too early taking out some of the fancier parts of the island. Most of the higher end houses and mansions were believed to be damaged in the outer edges of the island. There had been a castle built as a main part of the hotel/resort. Old costumes, sets, mascots were left to rot by the seas breeze. Barnacles, ivy, and vines with exotic flora and fauna growing wildly cover the buildings. Possibly even growing in the mansion and other houses. The main part of the biker gang is in a abandoned church next to the sea caves is where the biker gang mostly resides and work primarily as hit men and women. The island would be decided by the two head family of vampires one powerful family versus the other in over control if the current situation of resort in the actual tourist location.A rambunctious gang of young cryptics disguise themselves as human during the daytime but during the night it's quite the time to be alive and young. Various story arcs of love and lust between the group members figuring out their own sexualities and forming adulthood. Though most of it is all of them just fucking around.A rambunctious gang of young cryptics disguise themselves as human during the daytime but during the night it's quite the time to be alive and young. Various story arcs of love and lust between the group members figuring out their own sexualities and forming adulthood. Though most of it is all of them just fucking around.

Plausible locations

Old mill

Carnival / freakshow

Rides and amusement

Abandoned Church

Greenhouse

Garden

Boat house

Log cabins

CAMP grounds

Old schools

Warehouses

The Docks or Port

Boat houses

Boat docks

Abandoned Hotel

Studios

Bike store

Surf or like diving store

Knickknack shack

Ma and Pa restaurants

Antique stores

Downtown

Library

Hospital or infirmary excotic masion

I have story plots for days SONNNN so these are at skim level for plot.

If you’d like to contact me the best ways are

Discord at

Agodnamedhome#4202

[email protected]

I work from 11:30 to 4 Monday-Friday

But available before, and after for sure.

Thursday’s at 5 are my therapist appointments

Weekends are 100% free atm

Looking for a long term, short term, a friend!

#long term rp #oc rp #mulitfandom rp #email #discord #writting #hobby #rp #roleplay #looking for an online friend #pacfic northwest #orginal content #submission

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agodnamedhome · 4 years

Text

Howdy there! How are you?

Self

Preference

So for myself I love to take care of my Rp partners in all accommodations possible.

Meaning if your heart has been craving fluff, rough smut, or a plain ol hug. IM GAME! If none, no biggie let’s make a plot spot!

Roles I usually fall under are but not limited too….

-DOM , Vers, Power bottom

-caretaker, guardian, teacher

-father, handler, knight

-beefcakes, robots, selfless leaders

And so much more!

The roles I lean towards are

-caretaker, strong and silent-ish type, and flamboyant entertainers.

-male roles, trans male roles, open to trying a female role?, non binary, pangender role.

- I do enjoy topping, some aspects of BDSM, and some hard kinks.

-fallen leader, relearning about a loving world, hopeful in a dark world.

And so much more!

As far as story things themes are

-highly complex kingdoms

-High pace fantasy

-society by the ocean

-abandon green houses

-heavily dense forests

-fae and fiend worlds

-AUs of pre-existing universes from shows

-magic incorporated

-supernatural

Worlds we design collectively.

My HARD NOs are…

NO MINORS ROLEPLAYING WITH ME, 19 AND UNDER DO NOT APPLY

-abuse in active Rp (can be used from background and really has to depend on circumstance)

-harm of any children

-harm of expected mother

-any form of r*pe play

-blood play, degrading play, hard impact play

-crying kinks, humiliation kink, and electric play

-no smoking kinks either or character usage of substances.

Writing

Storytelling

Here are some story concepts I’ve come up with. Yet if you’d like to imply your own let’s talk about it!

Counterpart pathways

Puddles

When men become mortal

An alien/robot/human species that survives by using different masks/chips for various occasions.

It's like buying different clothes but they adapt or transform the hoist for a month or less of another body/form/identity.

The main character experiences a technical difficulty where their head socket cannot adapt to a new face for long and has to get it repaired. Though along the way he seems to find that not wearing a false identity they actually enjoy seeing the outside world with no expectation of appearance.

The other is a identity artist, the one whom develops different faces and identity. He spends hours tweaking details of bodies and faces. He always has the nicest things because of his work and from important commissions and work for certain clients.

They meet at a gallery that the artist is hoisting at a museum. The individuals there are decorated like some of the model pieces and others artist curators-part sellers.

The faceless one decides to go to the museum to see what's or who's being showcased and since he has a little bit of extra money he saved up for the occasion. Everyone finds him interesting since he doesn't have an appearance, they think he's a model. Thus they send him to meet with the artist for the show.

The artist doesn't know him at all. They find eachother very different but most parts similar. From their meeting the artist gets inspired by his original face. Coming to realize that even himself that he has given into the world he never wanted to.

The two of them hit it off. Both dwelling into the matters of the "perfect" vessel. Asking the serious questions such as what makes a body, a face, a soul attractive? They go on for hours and it starts to inspire the artists work into his new resorted craftsmanship. The faceless impressed by the purposed questions and also work. The two of them grow closer resulted from talking so much about bodies and meaning. All the while testing out the new creations, body parts, and vessels capabilities.

Not all though is good while the two develop this hoist. There's a villain at hand who one of the artist's main clients that goes unsuspected. They want to use the designs to create a vessel for the bad and wealth. Only to include to kill off all humans.

Thus forces the artist to reveal his true identity. A human being. Not a hologram. Plus he's not just an artist but a ex-con scientist from the labs that have bloomed into a internalized war. Faceless becomes confused and also hurt that the artist to mention this. Only for the two of them being followed.

The artist informs the robot that the hybrids (the children of the robot-species, generations of offspring) are the real threat to society. The one who hoists and is in charge of the power sorce is human and machine. The first of its kind, and also the previous mentor of the artist/ex-scientist.

Who will get to the power source first. Our main dynamic couple or the robotic uprising that believe all humans should cease to exist once and for all?

Gay Cryptids

Themes

Active night life

Next to the ocean, sea, body of water.

Beach city/lost boys/Mad max?/punk/ regal?/neon lights/old mascots/vapor wave af

Carnival / festivals

Dark market authenticity

Biker gang(s)

Aquatic features, art, incorporated in surroundings

Lifestyles like fish importing, dock workers, sushi shops, fancy diners

Common foods are all fish and sea foods

A rambunctious gang of young cryptics disguise themselves as human during the daytime but during the night it's quite the time to be alive and young.

Various story arcs of love and lust between the group members figuring out their own sexualities and forming adulthood. Though most of it is all of them just fucking around.

A rambunctious gang of young cryptics disguise themselves as human during the daytime but during the night it's quite the time to be alive and young.

Various story arcs of love and lust between the group members figuring out their own sexualities and forming adulthood. Though most of it is all of them just fucking around.

Plausible locations

Old mill

Carnival / freakshow

Rides and amusement

Abandoned Church

Greenhouse

Garden

Boat house

Log cabins

CAMP grounds

Old schools

Warehouses

The Docks or Port

Boat houses

Boat docks

Abandoned Hotel

Studios

Bike store

Surf or like diving store

Knickknack shack

Ma and Pa restaurants

Antique stores

Downtown

Library

Hospital or infirmary excotic masion

I have story plots for days SONNNN so these are at skim level for plot.

If you’d like to contact me the best ways are

Discord at

Agodnamedhome#4202

[email protected]

I work from 11:30 to 4 Monday-Friday

But available before, and after for sure.

Thursday’s at 5 are my therapist appointments

Weekends are 100% free atm

Looking for a long term, short term, a friend!

#rp #rp partner search #rp search #oc rp #orginal content #writting #fantasy #smut #fun #art #self promte

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aj-the-satyr · 5 years

Text

Echoes of memory

(Day 9 of @thenightofthelivingwriters series of prompts for October. I have to smile about how many of these are leading to me writing snippets about one of my D&D Characters, a Ratkin Bard. Since the word for today is Music it’s not hard to tell who this will feature is it? :) Onward with the words!)

Maximus huffed as he picked himself up brushing aside yet another daily interaction with fellow students. Why him? He frowned as the answer very easily presented itself. Unlike some of the other odd students like the Dragonborn he was weak, easy to bully. He’d never been strong like his clan mates and was overlooked by the elders so never got to do more than dabble in their arcane teachings. He thought that by going his own way he could find a way to overcome this weakness of body, find a way to gain strength, to overpower others. A smile crept across his rodent features as he remembered his first meeting with Noxwell......

...

The music was there. The snow sought to soften it, hide it almost but it was definitely there. It was a faint plucked instrument of some kind playing a rather lonely melody. The Ratkin brushed snow off his fur and sought out the source. Someone was playing a sad song in the snow and he certainly knew what it was like to be ignored in the cruel world, perhaps he might find a friend in this place.

It took a while but eventually he came across a young girl playing some kind of handheld instrument. She continued to pluck out a rather sad song as he stood nearby. Eventually when the song came to an end she looked up at him. He offered a smile. “That was.....” He paused. “That was a sad song, but it was also beautiful.”

He got a smile in return. “Thank you.” He noticed her teeth were pointed.

He reached into his knapsack and pulled out half a loaf of bread. “Are you hungry?”

A frown creased her features. “Why are you offering me this? You seem to have little yourself.”

“I have enough to share and that is what matters.”

She blinked slowly as if taking this in, before jumping to her feet. “Come!”

“What?”

“Come!” She repeated holding out a hand.

He shrugged and took her hand, entrusting his life to this strange little girl. If this was to be his end then so be it. Life had been nothing but misery since leaving his clan and going back wasn’t an option anymore. She led him through back alleys and darkened streets that the snow hadn’t quite managed to blanket yet. It was strange. He remembered walking past people but none reacted to him and the girl. Where were they headed?

Eventually they stopped at a doorway that looked just like many others they had walked past. The girl knocked a strange pattern and the door swung back revealing a rather warm looking interior. He noticed that none of the light seemed to spill past the threshold. What was going on?

“Come!” The girl said again before skipping inside. He shrugged and followed.

“Ah! A guest. Giselle tells me that you have an ear for music. Play an instrument yourself?”

The Ratkin blinked at the immediate question from someone he couldn’t yet see. “No.... I..... I try and write poetry.”

“Poetry? Interesting. And what inspired this?” The voice was getting closer.

The Ratkin sighed. “Looking at the arcane books I was forbidden from touching. The way things seemed to always be written in odd ways and not straightforward instructions.”

A laugh. “Ah! Some of the old coots never tire of making their books into more riddle than magic. Loosing some wonderful spells and tinctures that way, because they feel more inclined to keeping their secrets than making sure others learn the craft. Name’s Noxwell. And you are most certainly the most interesting person I’ve had enter my little shop in a long while.”

“Er.... Prekk..... that is.... I’m called Prekk, at least in Skritt.”

“Skritt? Not familiar, but unlike some of those old coots I mentioned I never bother to pretend I know it all. A fine name for a fine gentleman.”

“I....”

“Nonsense. Giselle excels at reading people Prekk, no denying your heart or the fact that a great capability for malice lies within you also.”

Prekk slumped a little. “I’m sorry...... I...”

More laughter. “Nonsense. You are who you are. You did not need to offer Giselle your food yet you did so. I sense the Malice will only be turned against those that truly deserve it.” The voice finally came into the light and Prekk could see a rotund man, balding but with a long white beard. “Well? Do I look like I sound?”

Prekk considered this. “With what you have told me I think you and Giselle can look like whatever you wish. Plus I’m a giant rat trying to make my way as a poet. Nothing in this world is what it seems.”

More laughter. “Good, good. Now here’s the thing would you gift us with one of your poems and in return we shall grant you something that will help you.”

“Do I get to know what it is beforehand?”

Noxwell seemed to consider this. “Worried about making deals with strangers?”

Prekk smiled. “You have basically confirmed yourselves to be shapeshifters, Fae I would suspect at this point, and that would make you notorious for offering deals with unexpected downsides.”

“Well. Aren’t you quite the clever mortal? Why follow Giselle then?”

Prekk shrugged. “Curiosity, a lack of care for what happens to me, some mad urge? Who knows? I am just glad to be out of the snow, if only for a little while.”

“You are most curious.”

“Thank you. Guess with what I’ve said it makes my questioning the deal all the more..... moot. I will trade my art for yours.”

“Art?”

“Is that not what was offered?”

Noxwell smiled broadly, his teeth were just as pointed as the girl’s. “Art thou sure of this mortal?”

Prekk nodded. “Yes.”

“Then by all means. Show us your art.”

“There are those that while away, In shadows and in between, The very threads that Fate tries to weave, And would rather be unseen.

Beauty have they that live this way, But far beyond the norm. Cold as Ice, cruel as fate, Yet somehow remaining warm.

Deals they make, trades they like, But be wary for they try, To catch you while you’re unaware, But they never lie.

Power lies within those hands, And if you are nice, It will be granted to thee, But for a terrible price.

So wary be of deals you make, With those that hide this way For lives will change when you doth meet, A member of the Fae.”

Prekk bowed a little after finishing and looked at Noxwell trying to gauge his reaction. The old man’s grin seemed to grow wider.

“Splendid. Well remembered.”

“Not remembered. Written, well spoken. I suppose I should write that down.”

Noxwell frowned. “I thought for sure......” He waved a hand and a book leapt into it. He flipped through its pages. “Well.....” He lowered the book. “Master Prekk.” He bowed low. “That is indeed a fine example of your art. I’m afraid that you will never be able to write that down, part of the deal I’m afraid.”

Prekk nodded. “Well I am glad that you are happy.”

“Indubitably. That was wonderful and not rehearsed. No, it is true art that thou hast given us this day. You have earned yourself a boon today. What do you seek?”

“To be successful with my poetry and be strong enough that no one will be more powerful that I.”

“Interesting. The first is easy, I shall merely give you a starting point. As for the second Giselle has something for you.”

Prekk spotted the girl again and she had in her hands a box. She offered it to him. He took it. Inside was a bracelet made to look like a coiling snake. “What is this?” He asked.

Giselle smiled. “A tool to teach you about power.”

“Ok. How do I put it on?”

“It’s magic. It will fit you.”

“Ok.” he looked a little unsure but plucked it from the box with his right hand, it immediately slithered around his wrist and grew tight. “AHH!” He dropped the box and collapsed to his knees as the snake seemingly tried to squeeze his hand off his arm. His breath came in gasps but eventually the pain subsided and the bracelet settled into a better fit. “How......?” he began.

The girl just smiled. “You will learn in time.”

Prekk just nodded. He had just made a deal with the Fae. Who knew where his life would lead next.

Noxwell helped him back to his feet and gave him a sealed letter. “Take this to the Bard college in Weirvas this will get you started on the path you seek, but be warned this path is hard and will try to break you.”

“Nothing is ever easy is it?”

Noxwell laughed. “No it is not. Beware though you have entertained me and thus I may well call upon you again.”

“More art trades?”

“Perhaps, we shall see. For now you need rest and food. That we shall provide, free of any bargains or plays for power. There will be much time for that later in your life.”

...

He reached out and touched the snake bracelet on his right wrist. It had indeed taught him a great deal, it may prevent him from getting physically stronger but that merely taught him to rely on his other strengths. He smiled as the memories faded away slowly, an old life complete with an old name. He was Prekk no longer. Now he was Maximus Delapore and no amount of idiotic bullying would prevent him from achieving his goals.

(Right..... that took an interesting turn and made me write a brief poem. Cool. I am definitely liking writing for Maximus a lot. Thanks again to @thenightofthelivingwriters for the prompts and the usual tags for Maximus of @the-bearded-hylian and @jaimistoryteller and a big thanks to all the writers out there creating worlds and characters. Keep on kicking words and taking adjectives!)

#TNLW #the night of the living writers #D&D Character #Maximus Delapore #My Writing #Yay Writing #what will be next?

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mairzymarzipan · 5 years

Text

Night of the Full Moon Character Reviews- Classes

It’s about time I finally get on this. I’ve been wanting to start these reviews for a while, but personal stuff came up, and then worries about the future of my blog. But things are finally sussing out so- why the fuck not now?

And naturally I’ll be talking about the characters. Other folks are talking about gameplay itself and strategy, but I kind of love these characters. Some of them have really fucked up stories. There seems to be some translation weirdness(this is actually a Chinese game), but I feel like there was a love when crafting these stories. I’ll just talk about mechanics when I feel it’s important for the plot.

And who better to start with the heroine herself?

Night of the Full Moon is sort of a cross between a TCG and a roguelike. The cards you stumble on, the events that happen and the people you meet are randomized each time. It takes place in a magical forest on the edge of a village. Said forest is cursed and everybody knows it. It always snows, and those affected by the curse in it can never leave. On a full moon night, cursed people lose their minds, apparently, and attack you even if they might not usually. The more times you play through, the more about the story is revealed.

You play as Little Red Riding Hood, an orphan(???) raised by her grandmother. When your grandmother disappears, it’s your job to march into this forest on a full moon night to find her.

There are currently six classes to choose for your little cloaked heroine: Lady Knight, Ranger, Nun, Little Witch, Magician and Apothecary.

“Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother relied on each other for a living, and was often bullied by boys. As a result, she did not have many happy memories of her childhood. However, she had to learn to use her brain and her fists to survive.”

Spoilers, but the knight class is the only one you can play for free. Yeah, sorry, this game has some DLC so, your mileage may vary. The knight class is fun to play, though. It involves using your weapons and armor and combining your armor with cards that hit for a lot of damage. You may feel a little annoyed when the witch pharmacist keeps offering you useless mana potions, though.

I just don’t really have much to say on the story of this timeline itself. I do like the idea of a person learning self defense specifically bc of bullies, but something about this wording bums me out. Her being defined as being a victim is kind of a downer.

Knight Red does not(afaik, feel free to correct me) have any class-specific interactions with any of the enemies. Yeah- some of these classes will get an extra choice when they defeat a certain enemy, if their dialog is triggered. It’s by chance, though.

And yeah. Most of the art depicts Red with anime white hair. I like to imagine the art of her on the cards is her as a little kid and then she dyed her hair as a teen.

🛡️🛡️ Two shields. Serves it’s purpose but kind of the most bare. Considered this is the only non-dlc class, that seems a little lame. Why not just make Knight, Ranger and Witch free and make the others dlc?

“Little Red Riding Hood has long been the only girl who dared to go into the forest with hunters. Over time, she became more agile and earned more gold from her prey. Perhaps one day she will achieve her dream of building her grandmother a house, no longer cold and hungry.”

Now this appeals to me a bit more. And- don’t worry. It’s clearly in the intro that her and Grandma have a place to live- but it’s probably a shitty apartment with a shitty landlord or something.

But this is a Red who has more agency. She’s defined by her hobbies instead of how other people treat her. Not that her life is any piece of cake. I do like that mention about trying to make money, bc this is one of the classes where you can attain the ‘steal’ card, where can get a little extra money when you fight people.

Ranger Red gets a class-specific interaction with the a hunter who has a particularly harsh backstory. I’ll get to him tomorrow. I like to imagine this guy took Red under his wing a lot when she was younger, too.

The ranger class involves a lot of chain reactions, finagling things so your turn is longer and then potentially hitting for a lot at the end if made your turn long enough. It’s in my top three favorites.

🏹🏹🏹 Three bow and arrows. Some cool characterization and legit a fun class to play.

“The king Little Red Riding Hood does not like to use violence to solve problems. “Injuries of the body are far easier to treat than those of the heart and spirit.” This is Little Red Riding Hood’s motto. Perhaps this is the reason why she is more understanding than others.”

Nun Red was initially interesting to me because...well, spoilers, but it doesn’t take many playthroughs to realize that the people involved with the church are kind of like the biggest bad. There are other big bads, but they’re kind of the shittiest people? And a person kind of has to be involved with a church to be a nun.

But that might not be the case. She really kind of plays more like a cleric. Her moved involve healing herself and praying. Her special interaction is also not with a member of the church but rather somebody who may be described as a pagan. Also, your Grandmother fucking hates the church, so I really doubt she’d let her grandmother become an actual nun. Nah, ‘Nun’ Red seems to represent an old faith that the villains have been trying to eradicate.

That being said, despite avoiding violence, I don’t have a lot to go on with this Red’s personality. Ok so, she’s really nice? I assume she’s poor like all the other Reds, but doesn’t seem to care about that. Like the Knight, she just kind of comes off as too passive.

Gameplay wise, she’s my least favorite. A healer makes sense if other people are in your party who can hit, but Red is alone. It’s very difficult to get her to wield damage and fights go on for a long time. It’s just, boring and frustrating. For that reason, I’ve giving her just 🙏🏻 one set of pray hands. Petty, I know, but that’s how I play.

“Even though the study of black magic is strictly prohibited in town, Little Red Riding Hood’s curiosity cannot be suppressed. What’s more surprising is that the witch has great patience in her guidance of the girl.”

Oh, yes, here we go! Probably the most interesting Red story wise. Spoilers again, but remembers those multiple Big Bads I mentioned? Well the Witch is one of the biggest of the bads...that is, unless you think that Pharmacy Witch and Apple Witch are different people. Then who knows which one in her tutor. My headcanon is that they’re the same person using a shapeshifting, so...

But yeah, to have a character who was trained by one of the main villains then go back and take on the evil in the forest makes for a pretty fun story. Yes, yes, it’s every video game twist, but give me this. Also this Red is driven, not by her shitty living situation, but simply by curiosity. She thinks magic is weird and cool and wants to know everything about it, and she’ll break the town laws and go into the woods to just to learn. That’s pretty neat!

This description, along with some facts about said Witch also lead to some pretty important headcanons about the ur-story but...I’m going to wait to talk about those when I talk about the Apple Witch.

Witch Red is kind of just, a wizard. You can be an elemental generalist, or you can focus one of the three elements, or you can stock up your mana up just to hammer people with it later. The difficulty is often picking a strategy early enough and finding the cards you need to make it work. The class specific encounter is with a mage who has a similar deck so- it fits.

She gets 🔥🔥🔥🔥 four fireballs. Great for story and headcanons, but her class isn’t one of my favorites to play. As I said: petty.

“As a descendant of the Hope family, Little Red Riding Hood discovered a strange bond between her body and cards when she was very young. She sought to cover up this supernatural phenomenon and magic became her best excuse.”

There is a lot of unpack here.

“A descendant of the Hope family” is another thing I’ll talk about when we get to the Witch. This class is...kind of meta? I had assumed up until seeing that that everyone wasn’t really carrying around physical cards but rather they represented attacks. What does it mean if Magician Red has power over cards themselves? Does she warp reality to mess with people’s attacks? Spoilers but no, unless you have a card that wipes out mana/attack pts.

Also, it’s wild to me that Red was born with this super power, but it was soooo scary that she told everyone that it was magic. Yanno, the thing that’s been established as illegal. What exactly is it that Red is capable of doing, and why is it so frightening? The description doesn’t reveal much.

You can either use a lot of traps with her or you can bank mana to make combos with your poker dart card. Both are pretty fun. Her special encounter is with a robotic stage magician who is actually pretty awesome. Also he probably didn’t train her, because he’s kind of new to the area.

She gets 🃏🃏🃏 three playing cards. Fun class to play, and he beginnings of an interesting character, but too confusing for me to latch onto.

“Little Red Riding Hood has been filled with curiosity for the natural world ever since childhood, and enjoys performing strange experiments. To care for her aging Grandma, she secretly learned how to concoct cheap potions from the crazy apothecary.”

Personality wise, Apothecary Red seems to have a lot in common with Witch Red, with the natural curiosity. The nature of the ‘strange experiments’ is a little dubious, though. Are you talking ‘let’s see what happens when I mix these two chemicals’ or ‘let’s see what happens to this frog if i stick it in a blender’ strange? Apothecary Red may or may not be some kind of sadist.

The fact that she willingly hangs out with the other Apothecary does not help her case in that respect. Dude is kind of a jerk but more on that later. Worth noting, though, is that she only works for the guy for money, but does her ‘strange experiments’ on her own time. She seems to be self taught and feels like she’s lowering herself working for this guy.

Her playstyle supports the notion of this Red being a jerk. You can set people on fire and they’ll burn for a little while, or you can slowly drain their life force, or you can blow up your own stuff in their face, causing damage. It’s...actually really fun! Especially you have the right weapons to set up chain reactions.

The apothecary is who you have a special interaction with, and even then she seems to be unimpressed by him.

Anyhoo, I’m go ahead and give this girl 💥💥💥💥💥 five explosions. She’s definitely a sadistic heroine, but that’s what makes her fun!

WEREWOLF RED WEREWOLF RED WEREWOLF RED???

So, this is the teaser image for the ‘coming soon’ class. I’m hoping it’s indicative of what’s to come and not just a generic plate. It looks like a girl with an axe with a werewolf growing out of her back which...is actually a concept that’s already canon, so yeah. Anyhoo I am so pumped about this. You interact with so many monsters in the story, it’s about time you get to be one.

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺 five potential werewolves!

Ok, so there you go. This post is going to be a little different as we’re talking about one character in different timelines and also we didn’t touch on voice acting. Hopefully that gives you an idea of the game without skipping ahead too much. Next we’ll talk about some of the people mentioned here, as well as a few others.

#mairzy posts #night of the full moon #notfm #character reviews #classes #lady knight #ranger #nun #little witch #magician #apothecary

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refiningspacetime · 7 years

Text

> THE TRADITIONAL GAME OF ASH CHICKEN [P2]

Hadean and Pheres have a long history of meddling with one another, starting when Hadean intervened with Pheres’s matesprit shortly after they first met - and rolling downhill ever since then in an ever-escalating war. Pheres’s solution to this? Meddle more intensively in Hadean’s life, until Hadean’s finally forced to admit that he can’t handle it and flees the scene entirely.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite turn out the way Pheres plans. It turns out that no one ever wins when it comes to games of ash chicken.

>CAST

invertedDissident | Hadean

refiningSpacetime | Pheres

gentleOssifrage | Kilran

PART TWO:

DAGINY,

under their false identity, Lannia / harebrainedLibrarian, messages Pheres in the aftermath to see what is happening. Pheres has been engaged in a long-term plan to sabotage Lannia's existing moirallegience, so that he can swoop in and serve as her functional rebound - helping her to better herself more than BB could've, and getting Emerel, who believes he needs a moirail, off of his back in the process.

--harebrainedLibrarian [HL] started pestering refiningspacetime [RS]--

HL: hello~! HL: I thought I would just check in on you~! Seeing how you must be having such a hard time right now~! RS: | ! | RS: | Oh | ! | RS: | I am Not Having Such a Terrible Time | But | Ah | RS: | Thank You | RS: | I have Been More Worried about You | Honestly | RS: | How Are You Doing | ? | HL: oh i'm doing perfectly well~! HL: but surely there's something wrong~! GO was being so awfully rude~! RS: RS: | Ah | RS: | It was Just a Little Tiff | RS: | GO is Rather | RS: RS: | Some Trolls Just Feel Entitled to More than Others | RS: | I Suppose It got a Touch Overblown | HL: oh no it didn't seem like something that was so terribly overblown~! i was oh so concerned~! HL: you have been so very sweet to me Pheres~! HL: i wouldn't mind lending you a listening ear~! RS: RS: RS: | That is So Kind of You | ! | RS: | Would You Really | ? | RS: | I |(edited) RS: | Would Hate to Be a Burden Upon You | RS: | I Just | Have a Great Deal of Feelings | RS: | | So Many | I have Been Told It Is | Ah | RS: | A Lot to Take In | HL: oh it's no trouble at all~! HL: i've been so grateful for a friendly word, and you've given it~! i'd love to return the favor~! RS: | Really | ? | RS: | You are So Sweet | RS: | I | RS: | Wouldn't Even Know Where to Begin | HL: please~! HL: don't worry about it~! :blush: i can set aside all the time i need for a friend~! RS: | Oh | RS: | My | ! | RS: | Well | Ah | RS: RS: | Alright | RS: | I Suppose I Don't Need to Explain about Kilran and I | RS: | It is Rather Self-Evident | RS: | But | Ah | RS: | I Suppose I Don't Need to Explain about Kilran and I | RS: | It is Rather Self-Evident | RS: | But | Ah | RS: | | I Had to Break Up with My Kismesis Recently | and I Suppose That is Why | Kilran's Illicit Fascination | has Struck Me So Personally | HL: oh dear~!! HL: that is quite rude~! HL: are you sure his fascination was pitch~! HL: it seemed to me it was quite murderous~!! RS: | | Oh | Ah | RS: | I am Certain It is Platonic | Haha | The Illicit was Just to Say | It is Rather Unseemly | RS: | to Want to Cull Someone for No Reason | HL: it really quite is~! HL: i hope that is put to rest~! HL: GO won't come looking for you, will he~? :0 RS: RS: RS: | Why Would He Come Looking For Me | ? | RS: | Haha | Ah | I Am Certain | That Would Not Be The Case | RS: | Over A Simple Internet Dispute | HL: i should certainly hope not~! HL: but we never do know what another troll is capable of~! RS: RS: | Hm | ! | RS: | Well | RS: | That Is A Thought | HL: it is~! HL: but i don't suppose you have all too much to worry about, do you~? HL: i'm sure GO is more reasonable than that~! HL: i hope so at least~! RS: | No | Haha | It is Silly of Me to Be Concerned | =:B | RS: | Thank You for that | Kind | Reminder | RS: | Kilran is Perfectly Reasonable | Underneath All of His Bile | RS: | So | It is Not Something I have to be Concerned About | I would Hope | Haha |(edited) RS: | | And I am Friendly with His Paleamour | RS: | So | Hopefully | He would Reign Him In | If He Were Not |(edited) RS: | And | By Hopefully |(edited) RS: | I Mean | RS: | He Would | I am Sure | ! | RS: | I am Fairly Certain |(edited) HL: well it's certainly reassuring to have that social insurance~! RS: | Yes | ! | RS: | Isn't It | ? | HL: it is certainly helpful~! HL: you do have other ways of protecting yourself yes~? HL: if i call correctly he is a shapeshifter right~? RS: RS: RS: | Um | Of Course I Do | ? |(edited) RS: | I | Do Not Think That He Cares That Much | About an Internet Tiff | RS: | I am Sure | ? | RS: RS: | Do You Think He Does | ? | HL: i would certainly hope not~! HL: but he also seems to me like someone who can smile quite well when he lies~! HL: so please be careful until we can say for certain~! RS: RS: | Of Course | ! | RS: | Heavens | I Just | RS: | Excuse Me for a Moment | RS: | I am Getting Emotional | But | RS: | It is So Kind of You to | Pay Attention to All of This | RS: | And Take Time Out of Your Day | to Speak with Me | RS: | I | RS: | I can't Say Many Do | RS: | And | People Have Been Being So Vicious about Kilran | RS: | I was Starting To Think | RS: RS: | Never Mind | What I Was Thinking | HL: what were you thinking~?!? HL: oh dear, has talking about all this upset you~? RS: RS: | Maybe a Little | I | RS: | Suppose I am Just Being Too | Emotional | | |(edited) HL: oh there's no such thing i say~! HL: you should feel what you feel~! RS: | Oh | ! | RS: | Oh | Heavens | RS: | | That is So Kind of You to Say | RS: | I Just | RS: | I Know I Keep Saying That | RS: | But It is Simply Outstanding | It's | RS: | | Thank You so Much | HL: oh it's no worries at all~! HL: RS: | =:) | RS: | I | RS: | This is a Little | Oh | I Hope It Isn't Too Forward | But | RS: | You have Been Awfully Kind | And | RS: | | I do Appreciate It | And the Fact You are So Interested in My Feelings | RS: | <> | HL: oh~! well~! RS: | Oh | You Don't Have to Answer | I am Sorry | RS: | That Was a Little Abrupt | RS: | And Right After | Well | You and | Lynner | | | RS: | I Suppose It was Insensitive of Me to Even Mention | RS: | But You have Always Been So Kind | and Intellectual | and Polite | Even in the Face of People's Ire | RS: | I | RS: | Thought It Ought to Be Said | HL: oh well~!(edited) HL: i think i will need some time~! HL: i mean, it is so soon after Lynner and I~! HL: but i'm very very flattered~! RS: | Oh | ! | That is Perfectly Understandable | RS: | And I Wouldn't Want It Any Other Way | RS: | There is No Need to Rush Into Things | Haha | And It Has Been Said | So | Ah | RS: | | Oh | I am Dreadfully Sorry | RS: | But | I Have a Customer Who Just Entered My Store | RS: | I Have to Go | =:( | HL: farewell~!! HL: good luck with your customer~! RS: | Thank You So Much | ! | RS| =:) | Good Light | ! | RS: | And | Thank You Again |

-- refiningSpacetime [RS] is no longer messaging harebrainedLibrarian [HL]! --

Pheres then promptly sends the message to Emerel, his matesprit, annoyed enough to try and get some advantage out of this situation:

-- refiningSpacetime [RS] is now trolling meganeNarcissus [MN]! --

RS: | Here |

-- refiningSpacetime [RS] has attached a text log! It consists of:

RS: | =:) | RS: | I | RS: | This is a Little | Oh | I Hope It Isn't Too Forward | But | RS: | You have Been Awfully Kind | And | RS: | | I do Appreciate It | And the Fact You are So Interested in My Feelings | RS: | <> | HL: oh~! well~! RS: | Oh | You Don't Have to Answer | I am Sorry | RS: | That Was a Little Abrupt | RS: | And Right After | Well | You and | Lynner | | | RS: | I Suppose It was Insensitive of Me to Even Mention | RS: | But You have Always Been So Kind | and Intellectual | and Polite | Even in the Face of People's Ire | RS: | I | RS: | Thought It Ought to Be Said | HL: oh well~! HL: i think i will need some time~! HL: i mean, it is so soon after Lynner and I~! HL: but i'm very very flattered~! --

MN: holy shit MN: wEll that EscalatEd RS: | Yes | It Did | RS: | So | I Will Give Her Two Nights | RS: | And Then Propose a Pale Date | MN: and if shE says no RS: | She Just Spoke to Me About My Feelings for Two Hours | Emerel | RS: | After Prying and Prodding For Me to Simply Open Up to Her | RS: | I am Fairly Certain She is Not Going to Say No | Haha | MN: wEll MN: .I.m glad its working out for you MN: what is shE likE RS: | Haha | Pale Romance | as I Said | is Remarkably Easy | RS: | | For Me | RS: | But | She is a Tealblood | RS: | She is Completely Awkward | RS: | But In a Charming Way | ! | And So Clever | She is a Librarian | So | Rather Like You | RS: | She Studies History as Well | ! | RS: | I am Evidently Collecting Historians | =:P | RS: | I Hope You Feel Flattered | MN: haha MN: .I. might just haVE to stEp up .MY. gamE in that casE RS: | | I shan't Object If You Do | ! | MN: .I. haVE to do somEthing to outdo all thosE othEr historians in your collEction RS: | Heavens | RS: | I Agree | =:B | You Must Prove Yourself Outstanding | to Stand Out Amongst the Crowd | RS: | But What | ? | RS: | Do I Get a Hint | ? | MN: hahaha MN: now it wouldnt bE a surprisE if .I. wEnt and told you what .I. was planning now would it MN: ;) MN: but itll bE grEat dont worry about that(edited) RS: | Winky Smilies Look Absurd | -- refiningSpacetime [RS] has attached here.jpeg! It's a picture of him beaming at his webcamera, eyebrows arched, slightly flirtatious. It'd be more flirtatious if he wasn't at his taxidermy table. -- RS: | I am Excited to Find Out | =:) | RS: | I have Missed You | By the Way | You should Come Visit Me | Outside of Your Swamp | Sometimes | Haha | MN: oh .MY. god --meganeNarcissus [MN] sent rightbackatyou.png! It's a picture of him in his kitchen striking his best seductive pose + smile combo-- MN: spEaking of MN: sincE thE musEum is still undEr rEpair MN: that mEans .I. gEt to traVEl for a bit if .I. want MN: guEss whos gEtting gracEd with .MY. prEsEncE RS: | Mm | RS: | Sipara | ? | RS: | Hadean | ? | RS: | Your Hair is Out of Place on the Top | RS: | By the Way | RS: | You Should Fix That | =:B | MN: hEy now MN: .I.ll haVE you know .I. chEckEd .MY. hair bEforEhand and its cErtifiably flawlEss MN: maybE .I.ll show you firsthand whEn .I. gEt thErE haha RS: | Nonsense | How can It Be Certifiably Flawless | When Neither of Us is a Certifier | ? | RS: | That Has to Be Done by a Professional | Emerel | =:P |(edited) MN: but what if .I.m .MY. own cErtifiEr MN: what thEn .PHERES. RS: | We have Had This Discussion | ! | One Cannot Certify Their Own Goods | RS: | It Has to Be Done by An External | Unbiased | Party | Who Does Not Have Any Profit to Gain Through the Analysis | RS: | Which is to Say | RS: | Come Visit Me | And I Will Check If Your Hair is Flawless | RS: RS: | And If It Stays Flawless | =:) | MN: uh huh MN: call .ME. crazy .PHERES. MN: buuuut .I. think you just might haVE a littlE bias thErE MN: but sincE you insist MN: .I. guEss .I.ll just haVE to pop oVEr and sEE if yourE thE rEal dEal cErtifiEr RS: | Nonsense | ! | I am Always Unbiased | RS: | And I Have No Profit to Gain | As I Said | =:) | So | RS: | Hush | MN: wE all know wE wouldnt want .ME. to haVE a hair out of placE MN: ;) RS: | Haha | RS: | Ah | RS: RS: | Right | ! | RS: | Haha \ RS: |* RS: | I Just Wanted To Let You Know | RS: | About My Successful Pale Foray | RS: | So | ! | MN: holy shit .I. missEd you MN: .I.m glad your palE foray is a rEsounding succEss MN: good job .PHER. RS: | I have Missed You as Well | RS: | This has Been a Very Long Break | Haha | MN: agrEEd MN: itll bE good to hang out RS: | It Will Be | RS: | | You Know | Um | Are You Busy Right Now | ? | RS: | Because | If You Are Not | I Could Call You | Instead | RS: | It Has Been | What | A Week Since We Have Spoken | ? | RS: | It Would Be Nice | RS: | I Think | RS: | Ah | If You Don't Mind | MN: not busy at all MN: hit .ME. up man RS: | Marvelous | RS: | =:) |

-- refiningSpacetime [RS] is no longer trolling meganeNarcissus [MN]! --

AUGUST 25TH: After a night of publicly shunning Hadean, Pheres feels some minor regrets - but mostly, he wants to set the record straight, in the most pointed way that he can.

-- refiningSpacetime [RS] is now messaging invertedDissident [ID]! --

RS: / I wanted to apologize / for the other night / ID: ID: huh. ID: and i thought the cold shoulder and pointed barb in the lowblood chat were signs you were still upset. RS: / of course I am upset / but there was no call to behave as I did / towards you / RS: / accusing you of acting ash was / unnecessary / ID: uh-huh. ID: well, i just can't seem to wrap my pan over why the two of you keep dancing around in this little hate circle is all. RS: RS: / =:/ / RS: / yes / well / we are all mystified by some things / RS: / it is a tragedy of life / RS: / are you going to insist upon continuing to stick your fronds into this / ? /(edited) ID: dnw, i had a nice chat with kilran and you don't have to worry about him bugging you ever again. ID: so. no need to stick fronds in to a matter that's resolved. RS: / ah / marvelous / ! / what about murdering me / hadean / ? / does that resolve that / ? / RS: / or / forgive me / I don't think he's out and out stated his desire for that / RS: / how is mauling / ? / =:) / ID: first you apologize for accusing me of ashing it up in here. then you complain that i'm not doing it right. ID: idk what you're wanting here pheres, tbh. =:'( ID: but he's not going to murder you. or make any jabs about maiming you. so don't worry about it. RS: RS: RS: RS: / are you attempting to be ashen / ? / just answer the question / spare me your wit / i am not interested / RS: / because if you are not / you need to /- stop -/ RS: / you told me once to say if something is bothering me / and this /- is -/(edited) ID: i'm trying to get you two to cut it out before kilran goes after you, sipara goes after him, prisma. idfk, blows us all up, and we're all a big ol corpse pile. ID: emerel probs gets involved too in there somewhere. ID: but fine. i'll stop! ID: and if you just ignore kilran like he's going to ignore you, it's all a non-issue. RS: RS: / you are amazing / RS: / heavens / RS: / would you tolerate someone speaking to you like this / ? / any time I type a message / and he happens to be online / ? / RS: / because experience says no / and I know that you / and everyone else thinks I am too meek / and too / oh / RS: /- servile -/ RS: / but then you object if I am not / ID: yeah, i'm trying to work on not punching everything that makes a comment that i take the wrong way. ID: ID: it's a work in process. but i'm p sure you do not want to be like me. ID: but. you said you're uncomfortable. so i'm stopping. lifting my fronds from the keys regarding you and kil. forbidden topic. RS: / don't phrase it like / RS: RS: / the problem here is not your meddling / if you wish to play ashen in my affairs / that is /- fine -/ RS: / the problem is that you are being unfair about it / RS: / you were not meddling when he was actively threatening me / you started meddling when I had the audacity to respond / ID: i've had talks with kilran. =:/ ID: and ullane was around for you to throw clubs at when he was saying he'd break your snout- ID: i guess i'm making excuses. ugh. RS: / ullane intervened until she became uncomfortable with the connotations of the relationship / by which I mean / with two strangers / RS: / if you would like me to ignore him / I can do so / if he finally will simply leave me alone / RS: / there is no amount of conversation from someone who has threatened you / and told you that you deserve to die in a helmsblock / that is actually friendly / RS: / it is a reminder that he can behave however he wants towards me / he can say whatever he wants / and no one will /- care -/ because he is brown / and he happens to spackle his words with enough hearts / that any objections on my part seem /- petty -/(edited) ID: i was unfair. and it was shitty of me to do. ID: so sorry for that. and sorry for last night too. ID: ID: and making you uncomfortable to begin with and just kinda. trampling on you anyways. RS: RS: / well / thank you / I was not behaving in a proper manner yesterday / either / RS: /so I suppose we are both in the wrong / ID: it can happen. i mean. ID: i've been pushing and being an ass about it. so you had a reason to be upset. RS: / well / ! / i was not being much less aggressive towards you / was i / ? / RS: / and you were / mm / RS: / trying your best / the intentions should be considered / if nothing else / RS: / so / my apologies for not taking that into consideration / RS: | And | Ahem | RS: | I Suppose I Shouldn't Have Attempted to Drag Your Good Name through the Mire | RS: | In the First Place | RS: | Given that Prisma is Your Friend | RS: | And You Have Your Own Complications Here | ID: yeah, well. intentions don't always make something good, so. ID: don't worry about being aggressive to me. ID: ID: complications. yeah, i guess so. ID: plus lately i've been having sleep difficulties so i'm not exactly. the most keen pan around. and i get. snappier and nastier. so sorry for that too. RS: | Perhaps Not | But They still Warrant Consideration | ! | RS: | And | Just Because Our Relationship is Contentious | at Points | doesn't Mean That You Deserve the Disrespect of Public Aggression | RS: | I am Sorry that You're Having Difficulties | Though | RS: | Please | Do not Apologise to Me | over That | ID: yeahhh we can. be at each other's throats a lil bit at times. ID: or a lot at times. ID: but uh. thanks for telling me you're uncomfortable and all that. and don't worry about apologizing to me about anything. RS: RS: | I | Regret Phrasing It Like That | RS: | Um | ID: it's fine, it's fine. ID: so. uh. anything else we should be talking about, or. RS: | Yes | It is Fine | RS: | But | Ah | Also | No | I Suppose It Isn't | RS: RS: | I don't Mind Your Meddling | It is | RS: | Aggravating | ! | But | Endearing | that You Care Enough to Wish to Meddle | ? | RS: | It was Uncomfortable | When I Thought You Were Leaning into Kilran's Perception | RS: | That I was Completely Unwarranted in | | Even Acknowledging the Fact He has Been Awful to Me | RS: | Or | Um | RS: | Doing Anything Except For Taking It | ? | RS: | But | You Apologised | And I Apologised | RS: | So I am No Longer Uncomfortable | ? | ID: well. good. i'm glad you're not uncomfortable and i'll watch for that stuff in the future. ID: and try not to do it. ID: so thanks for letting me know you're uncomfortable and. yeah. ID: sorry and. thanks. RS: RS: | Um | You are Welcome | And | I am Sorry | I have Gone and Made This Awkward | I think | RS: RS: | Ah | This is a Silly Question | I am Aware | RS: | But | RS: | We are Still Friends | Right | ? |(edited) RS: | Are You Alright | ? | RS: | You Seem a Little | Downcast | ID: uh. ID: ID: it's a story. and not a fun one, and probs not one you want to hear. ID: so don't worry about it. RS: | No | ! | You can Tell Me | RS: | I am Sure You Will Feel Better For It | ? | You Seem Stressed | RS: | And You have Been Trying to Help Me Out | RS: | It is Only Fair to Let Me Help You Out in Turn | ? | ID: i appreciate the thought. ID: seriously. but it's. y'know. ID: ID: an uncomfortable topic. for. ID: our kind of troll. RS: | Would You Rather not Discuss It | ? | RS: | Because | If You Would Prefer Not To | That is Fine | RS: | I am Not Pushing You | I am Just | RS: RS: | I have Heard Worse | I am Sure | Even If It is About | RS: | Something Uncomfortable | Say | Ah | Helming | ? | ID: ID: ID: yeah. err. i'm good with not discussing it. RS: | That is Fine | ! | Um | RS: | | Do Try to Find Someone That You are Comfortable Talking To About It | Though | ? | RS: | Because | It is Rather Unhealthy to Just | Bottle Things Up | ID: just, y'know. ID: er. had someone hurl some stuff at me that wasn't too fun to hear. or pics that were nice to look at. ID: ID: and i mean. idk. talking about the future with psionics. isn't always a fun time for either side. RS: | Which is Not to Say That You Have to Talk to Me Either | But | Um | RS: RS: | Oh | I am Sorry to Hear That | RS: | | I would Like to Say | What Sort of Person Does That | RS: | But | I Suppose That is Irrelevant | RS: | Were They Doing It Just to Be Cruel | ? | ID: yeah. but. uh. we were both being cruel to each other. if i'm honest. ID: but i wasn't the side dedicated enough to send. med pics. RS: | Well | Yes | I am Not Surprised by That | But | RS: | That Doesn't Mean They Should've Escalated | RS: | Or Sent You Images | ID: yeah, well. gotta drive in that whole. 'they can put your thinkpan in a jar' idea. RS: RS: | Well | That is | RS: | Absolutely Dreadful | RS: | Even If You were Being Cruel in Return | that still Did Not Warrant That | RS: | I Hope You Realise | ? | ID: ID: yeah. just been a lot going on. ID: ID: yeah, well. mmm. RS: | Don't Mmm Me | RS: | It is a Statement of Fact | RS: | People Like to Abuse the Fact We are Psionics | and We Can be Treated as Tools | RS: | There is Never an Excuse For This | It is Just Base Cruelty | and a Sign of a Small Mind | ID: yeah. and with pris eyeing up all this imp-y stuff, and that, and. other stuff. ID: it's been a lot and i've been. more of a jerk in some ways. ID: i mean. some of it is just usual jerk, but. also other jerk on top of it. RS: | Oh | Yes | the Imperial | Canary | Thing | RS: | | You are Under a Great Deal of Stress Lately | I am Sorry | =:( | RS: | From Every Corner | It Sounds Like | RS: | Are You | Ah | Taking Care of Yourself | ? | RS: | Trying To | ? | ID: uh. i mean. yeah. ID: other than the sleep. work in progress there. ID: and i'm working on getting over all the stress. so. RS: | Mm | Do You Know What Helps Me in Alleviating Stress | ? | ID: nope. what? RS: RS: | Ah | My Apologies | RS: | I was Dragged Into Another Conversation | RS: | Unfortunately | ID: =:??? you okay? RS: | Not Especially | ! | Moirails are An Abomination | and So is the Entire Concept of That Relationship | RS: | But | One Must Do What One Must Do | RS: | | I am Being | As Sipara Would Say | RS: | Petulant | Forgive Me | RS: | Ah | What I Do to Alleviate Stress | Haha | RS: | is Go Out | or Distract Myself | ! | =:) | ID: hey, sometimes you gotta vent it out a little. no bottling it up, like you said. RS: | | I Suppose That is Fair | =:B | ID: i try to distract myself, but then when i stop i just. return to whatevs i was stressing about? RS: | Hm | RS: | Why do You Think That Is | ? | ID: ...idk. usually something just. happens that reminds me of the worry. RS: | Are You Ever Actually | Addressing | These Worries | ? | ID: i mean. not all worries are. addressable. ID: i'm working on some of it with sips. ID: ID: and her. nerd knowledge. RS: RS: | Good | ! | If the Both of You Are Suitable | Then | Ah | I Suppose | She Might Be Able to Help You with More | than Just the Nerd Parts | ? | RS: | To Use Your Words | Not Mine | Haha | RS: | I Have Always Found Her Nerdiness Rather Endearing | In a Stupid Bug Way |(edited) RS: | What Sort of Worries Do You Have that You Think are Not Addressable | ? | ID: ID: uh. ID: it's impressive, at least. ID: but. umm. ID: ID: hard to describe. worries about myself, that's all. RS: | Oh | RS: | About Conscription | ? | RS: | I have Worried About That a Great Deal as Well | RS: | It is an Alarming Thought | Isn't It | ID: ...yeah. ID: p alarming. RS: | | I suppose the Best Suggestion on That is to Just | RS: | Think of the Worse That Could Happen | ? | RS: | Analyse It | Embrace It | Figure Out How You could Make It Less Awful | RS: | And Then | Think of the Best Thing that Could Happen | ? | RS: | Regardless of If It Can or Not | RS: | And Accept | You Will Likely Achieve Something in the Center of Those Two Things | RS: | It is Easier Said than Done | But That is What I Do | ID: well. i can. try. ID: whatever in the middle of those things is. ID: ID: thanks. RS: | It will Feel Impossible the First Time | RS: | But | Ah | Each Time You Attempt It | ID: i'm having trouble just figuring out which end is the worst. RS: | It will Get Easier | and Everything will Feel More Tolerable | with Each Attempt | I Think | RS: | Until It is Less Devastating to Consider | RS: RS: | Um | RS: | Can I Ask | ? | ID: ...brain in a jar or. like. ID: ID: idk. lab experiment. who knows what they do in programs. i mean. not like they'd ever tell us the scary bits. RS: RS: RS: | Um | RS: | | If It is Any Consolation | However Small | I Do Not Think | Ah | RS: | They Would | Put | Your Brain in Anything | ? | RS: |We Are | Lucky | Enough Not To Be The Sort Of Lowbloods Who | Ah | Are Useful | RS: | For That Sort Of | Thing | ID: fair. i don't know much about. ID: brain jarring. ID: ID: so yeah. i'll try it tho. RS: | I | Try Not To Know Anything About | Ah | Brain Jarring | RS: | But | Well | There Is Only So Many Times Someone Can Say | That Sort Of Thing | RS: | Before You Have To Gain Information | ID: i'm just. trying to get my info from sips. less graphic pics that way. ID: ID: soz if i'm like. y'know. making you uncomfortable with this topic. RS: | You Are Not | ! | RS: | If I Was Uncomfortable with the Topic | I Would Hardly Be Able to Stand Being Around Riccin | ID: fair enough. ID: but i'll, uh. let you go? i got food to eat and. stuff to think about now. RS: | Yes | Do Not Let Me Hold You Away from Eating | RS: | I Think Laledy Rather Expects Me to Distribute Food for Him Now | Anyway | Haha | RS: | | Feel Better | RS: | ! | Or Try | I Suppose |

-- refiningSpacetime [RS] is no longer messaging invertedDissident [ID]! --

#[chat]#bwic #hadean dauths #kilran barbas #pheres dysseu #no one wins in ash chicken kids

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anactorya · 7 years

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[fic] The Gift

Dean/Benny, Dean/Amara, PG-13, 2500 words, canon-divergent during 11x23. Birthday ficlet for the lovely @frozen-delight. <3 Kindly betaed by @majesticduxk. :)

Also on AO3!

Locked away in the dark, Amara lives off scraps.

She encompassed multitudes, once; before her brother turned his back and told her she was nothing. He conjured stars out of void and she scattered them, galaxies in a single motion, motes of light trickling between her fingers.

Now, she takes what she can get. Brief flashes of human sensation felt through the connection of the Mark. Cain’s memories of working the soil. Dirt beneath his fingernails and green shoots poking up through the earth. His anger and his fear; Lucifer’s words gentle in his ear; and then only blood. So small a life, compared to what hers once was. Amara clings to it anyway, wringing every drop of feeling from the memories. She stretches them out over eons. They stretch thin.

Dean, when she first senses his mind, is a starburst of feeling. He contains multitudes. Deep abysses of love; supernovae of pain. Aches and hopes and fears that touch the horizon with light and spread long-fingered shadows. She travels his inner topography and finds it beautiful.

Once, her brother tried to impress her with what he had made. He showed her mountains whose summits touched fabricated clouds, canyons that stretched to dizzying (artificial) depths. She shrugged, not understanding, and said, “We live in infinity.” Then she gave a wave of her hand and it all fell to dust.

She thinks, perhaps, she understands now.

Sometimes, images surface from Dean’s memories and shine before her in the black. In an abandoned house in St Louis, a spell wraps dark tendrils around him and digs down into his past.

Amara sees a forest in muddy grays and blood-reds. She feels the weight of endless searching, how it wears on him, the slow ebb of his hope as he realizes Sam is not coming for him. She sympathizes. But in among it all, there’s something else.

No: somebody else.

Not human, and he makes no effort to hide what he is, approaching Dean with fangs bared. His presence, though, is steady and solid as anything in Creation. There is nothing of her brother’s making that Amara could not destroy with a touch—but when she sees Benny through Dean’s eyes, he is constant. More so than Dean’s absent brother, or his runaway angel; certainly more so than her own traitorous sibling.

With Benny at his side, Dean starts to shake off the burden of Sam’s absence. He lets himself feel hope in his hunt for Castiel. He is startled by laughter, finds himself smiling that wide, genuine smile that creases the corners of his eyes. At night, he truly sleeps, trusting Benny to keep the monsters at bay for a few hours.

He feels other things, too. Desires long-buried in the human world find their way to the surface here, with no audience to hide them from. Dean wakes from blurry dreams half-hard in his jeans and breathless, the image of blue eyes and large, capable hands still swimming before his eyes, the imagined scrape of a beard against his jaw not quite faded. He presses a hand to the spot where he felt it, then flushes in embarrassment.

If Benny notices, he’s kind enough not to mention it. He touches Dean more over the next few days, though. Lingers over the cleaning of a wound; clasps Dean’s hand a moment longer than necessary when he hauls him to his feet after their latest altercation with the local wildlife; leans in to swipe a smear of mud from Dean’s cheek with his thumb.

It takes Dean some time to decide to respond. Just taking what he wants seems too simple. He knows there is nothing in the world that is truly, only his; not without a price tag. Amara has never regretted her lack of a stake in her brother’s creation, but through Dean, she echoes with absence and doubt.

But Purgatory isn’t the world—or at least, not the world he knows. The things that would usually keep him hiding this part of himself are absent. There’s nobody here to judge him—or nobody whose opinion he cares for, anyway. If the monsters who attack them want to add a few more choice insults to their vocabulary, let them. It isn’t as though his brother or his father or his angel friend are around to look at him differently.

So the next time they take down a pair of monsters—shapeshifters, sloughing off skin and gristle as they hit the forest floor—Dean reaches down to help Benny up out of the mud, and he doesn’t let go.

Benny’s eyes on his face are careful. Dean swallows hard before he asks, “You wanna go clean up?”

He relies on his tone of voice, the one-sided quirk of his smile, to make the rest of the invitation for him. Even here, he isn’t sure he could put it into words. Benny hears him, though. Hears him, and inclines his head and grins and follows.

The river is cold but clean, the current slow enough that they can stand comfortably in waist-deep water. Benny doesn’t shiver at the cold, but the warm touch of Dean’s hands makes his eyes close, just briefly, in bliss.

Purgatory doesn’t allow time to truly relax; but still they find time to be gentle with one another, and a relief Dean had not anticipated washes over him. Their touches are urgent but never rough, soft open-mouthed kisses warming Dean from within. He hasn’t seen the sun in months, but when they move against one another in the dark, he stops feeling the cold for a little while.

Benny offers loyalty and demands nothing of him. Dean tries not to think about it too hard, afraid that it will stop being real if he does.

The spell takes the memories and twists them. With Benny’s face, it stalks him through imagined trees. With Benny’s voice, it tries to trick the life out of him.

Amara would hold onto him anyway, would never let go her one connection to the world—but Dean feels the wrongness of it right away. The hallucination tells him to kill himself, and, “I’d do it,” he says. “If I really had to. I would. But the real Benny would never let me.”

He kills the hallucination dead. Through the connection, Amara feels the ache of absence, but it does not hurt. Benny is lost, but Dean still trusts him more than he hates himself.

Even after the spell is ended, the memories fascinate her. She turns them over and over in her mind. Her brother’s love was always conditional, and she did not know it could be different. Dean is hers now but, should she ever meet Benny Lafitte, she will thank him.

Much later—after her prison is shattered; after she grows up and learns to walk among humans—she visits Dean in dreams.

The souls she has consumed provide acceptable fuel, but they sit uneasily within her. There is so much pain in them, such chaos of feeling.

Dean was no different when she first touched his mind—likely is no different now—but she misses him. Perhaps it is simply that she was the first soul she had touched in so many lifetimes. Perhaps that is all.

Still, when she comes upon him sleeping, relief washes over her like water.

For a moment she holds still and watches him. Then her presence seems to register with him and he sits up, eyes wide and startled in the dark, fumbling under his pillow for something. She’s distracted for a moment by how he blinks his way back to consciousness, by the way the sheets slip down his torso, the vulnerability of his bare feet.

There’s a metallic gleam in the dim light. She realizes he is pointing a gun at her.

Amara looks at him curiously. “You know that won’t hurt me.”

“I can still try.” His voice is rough, as much with sleep as with anger, she thinks. She smooths down her skirt and sits on the bed. As she expected, he doesn’t shoot—or call for his brother.

“Is that any way to greet a visitor?”

“I didn’t shoot you. I’d say that counts as red carpet treatment, seeing as you’re the big evil and all.”

A memory, not her own, seizes her. What, no thanks for saving your hide? Benny standing over him, fanged and blood-splattered and unfamiliar. The first moment they met. Dean scowling back. Sure, I won’t shove this up your ass.

Benny had had something to offer him, of course. Amara has nothing he wants—or anyway, nothing he will admit to wanting. She has patience, however, and so she offers him a smile. “You’ll change your mind about me, Dean,” she says. “Once you let yourself know me.”

“Pretty sure I know enough.”

He doesn’t resist when she takes his hand, though, nor when she brushes its callouses with the pad of her thumb. But there is nothing easy in his stillness. Dean is strung up tight, trembling a little under his bravado, and that is not what Amara wants. She lets his hand drop and caresses his cheek instead, sending him to sleep with a dark pulse of her power. The gun falls harmlessly from his hand.

Dean will dream of nothing; and when he wakes, he will not remember that she was here.

Before she leaves, though, Amara pauses. Nothingness is peaceful enough. She has craved it since her brother started making worlds. But Dean’s peace consists in other things—and those she can offer him, temporarily at least.

She leans in and touches his forehead, and Dean dreams of Purgatory.

Later, she kisses him in an empty field outside Fall River while his brother opens a line to Hell. Heaven turns what is left of its power upon her, and by the time she recovers, there is an archangel walking the Earth in the guise of Dean’s best friend, and he is distracted.

His thoughts beat inside his skull with dark, frantic wings. Amara feels them, but they are fainter than they were when Dean bore the Mark, and she can no more hold onto them than Dean could hold stars in his mortal hands. She would calm him if she could.

They come after her again, her brother and her nephew. After all this time, they still do not understand.

She fights on anyway. Perhaps it is not they whose understanding she needs.

And Dean comes to her, at last, bright with terrible power. He has been sent to destroy them both.

He doesn’t. Still, he holds back from pulling the trigger, and they talk. She sits with hands folded in her lap amid the greenery, the life she cannot touch, and he offers her a way back. Understanding, as the sun dies above their heads.

She wants to give him something in return. Restore something, for what he has restored to her.

Her first thought is for Mary. The original loss, and one she cannot comprehend. She has never known what it is like to have a mother.

The reach of her power is halfway to Heaven—and then a thought makes her stop.

Parents, after all, do not always look kindly on their children. They do not always give their children peace. Dean’s memories of his father are fraught with nerves and resentment. Millions of humans pray to her brother each day, calling him Father and receiving no answer for their pains.

Amara changes her mind, and she reaches out to pluck a soul from a different world.

Dean’s head spins as he stumbles through the trees.

He just talked down the fucking Darkness. And now they’ve both split, her and Chuck, and the souls are gone, and the whole thing feels like some whacked-out dream. Dean wouldn’t believe it himself, only he’s still standing and there’s still good solid dirt under his boots, so he guesses it’s either accept that he just saved the world with talking or accept that he’s finally gone cuckoo.

He doesn’t know where the hell he is, or how he’s gonna get back to the bunker, but he figures he’s gotta come to a road sooner or later. Meantime, it’s actually kind of comforting, just picking a direction and tramping through the trees. One foot in front of the other. Simple. Still dark enough he has to concentrate on where he’s walking, though—and that’s a damn good thing, because it stops him worrying about what happens if the God Twins change their minds. Or about what Amara meant when she said she wanted to give him something, because that sure as hell sounds like another shoe that’s gonna drop and then kick him in the ass.

Dean scowls and concentrates on the ground, narrowly avoiding stumbling over a twisted root. Now if it was a little lighter, if there was a pack of vamps or skinwalkers or some other kind of supernatural fuglies stalking him through the trees, it would be just like—

“Brother?”

His heart almost stops.

He’s tried not to think about Benny. Since he went back to Purgatory (Dean still can’t think died, not even inside his head, most of the time), Dean’s tried not to. But since the whole Werther box thing he’s tried harder. He’d been so damn close to giving in, but even if the sensible part of his brain knew death would be a goddamn mercy, he still couldn’t picture Benny saying that crap and meaning it. And for a moment there, he’d remembered how the real Benny had always looked at him—like he was True North, some kind of guiding star—and still stepped back without fighting when Dean let him down. He hadn’t argued. Had just trusted Dean to have his reasons.

Benny trusted him. Benny thought he was good, Dean’s pretty sure. Only then the spell had ended, and he came back to himself with the Mark throbbing on his arm, and he remembered that whatever Benny had thought of him, Dean wasn’t that guy anymore.

But the Mark’s gone, and Amara’s gone, and now Benny’s standing in front of him, blinking like he doesn’t have any more clue what’s going on here than Dean does.

Dean swallows hard, his throat dry, but he manages a nod. “Yeah. ’S me.”

There are a billion questions he should be asking, but before any of them make it out of his mouth, Benny’s stepping forward and pulling him into a hug and not letting go. Dean closes his eyes and exhales hard, just going with it for a second. It feels like he’s been holding his breath for months. Years, maybe.

Benny still smells like Purgatory, dank and bloody and like it’s about to rain, even though it never actually does. Dean buries his face in the collar of Benny’s jacket and inhales like there's no tomorrow, which is fucking hilarious if you think about it.

Amara’s words ring in his head again, then. You gave me what I needed most. I want to do the same for you.

Okay, maybe the other shoe’s gonna drop in a moment here. Maybe when he opens his eyes it’ll all be gone, smoke and mirrors. But right now, right now, he’s pretty sure this is it.

So he lets himself feel it—everything instead of nothing. It feels like peace.

#deanbenny #denny #deanamara #demara #(kind of)#fanfic #my fic #supernatural

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i-just-like-commenting · 7 years

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Even More Thoughts While Reading “The World of Ice and Fire” (part 5)

I read a good article analyzing the ways in with Westeros is depicted racist towards the Dornish, but reading The World, you find that while Dorne may be there worst there are regional-ethnic stereotypes for every part of Westeros, often linking their climate to the supposed temperaments of the inhabitants. This is most likely tied to an actual theory from our world in Greek antiquity, so yay for Martin showing he knows history.

Can you tell me how to get, how to get to the Riverlands?

So one theory that floats out there is that the references to Lovecraft, occasional in the series and fairly frequent in The World, all indicate that the Drowned God is some Cthulhu-esque creature, because if we make Lovecraft references then that must mean a Lovecraft ripoff of some kind will show up.

Now, I’m going to talk a bit about this more when we get to the Iron Islands, and then when we talk about the many Lovecraft references in Essos, but to me that’s like expecting Big Bird to show up because three lords of the Riverlands in succession were named Grover, Elmo, and Kermit.

...Also, I absolutely love this, it made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. Sure, it takes you out of the narrative, reminds you this is just a story, but that’s not always a bad thing for those of us who take this series just a little bit too seriously.

And look! We have our first confirmed lesbian in the history! Lady Sabitha, who after her husband’s death apparently decided she was going to just follow her preference for the ladyfolk. Of course the history puts this in the coarsest way possible, saying she “was fond of killing men and kissing ladies,” because of course we can attribute her stern leadership of her late husband’s land to lesbian man-hating. Got to love heteronormativity.

On griffins, mostly

I’m going to violate my rule a little here and say that I think the maesters may be right about griffins being a myth. This is because, unlike just about every other myth they dismiss in the books, there’s not really a lot of references to griffins as an actual thing in the books themselves (the legend of the Griffin King is it). The maesters speculate instead that they’re a remembrance of dragon riders…and we do know there were a few dragons in Westeros in ages past, prior to the Targaryen invasion. Perhaps some of them were ridden, proving once again that Valyrian blood may help but is not essential.

More interesting is the claim that Artys Arryn, first Andal king of all the Vale, had eagles at his command and was capable of flight. That seems an obvious reference to skinchanging of some kind, and when you consider that the ironborn of the Last Light are able to skinchange into seals, one starts to wonder if Varamyr is wrong and what you can skinchange into most easily depends more on the creatures nearby than anything inherent to the creatures. I have read some theories that the constant reference to Sansa as a “little bird” and her presence in the Vale might mean she’ll rediscover her warg powers in a new context, just as Arya has adopted cats over in Braavos. I hope this is true. I want Sansa to come back into her power so badly.

The other myth about Artys is that he married a child of the forest, but she died giving birth to his son. Whether the son lived to be his heir it doesn’t say, but it’s interesting that someone so associated with the arrival of the Seven into Westeros would be so involved in followers of the old gods.

The origins of the ironborn, the power of the sea, and that which is dead and may never die

This is, again, a section where the maesters are ready to dismiss everything the ironborn believe about themselves because it doesn’t fit their non-magical historical narrative. Things they absolutely cannot deny they are willing to accept, like the reality of dragons or the children of the forest. Those things are also, conveniently (and in the case of dragons, intentionally), in the past. And anything they do not have indisputable proof is explained away as quickly as possible.

So to begin with, the ironborn believe they are descended from sea people, who recur in various legends throughout the world, particularly in the form of merlings or merrows. An ironborn maester called this hypothetical race “the Deep Ones,” which is a reference to The Shadow Over Innsmouth. Haereg, a major historiographer, believes they might have heritage from west of the Sunset Sea. Both these stories assume that there were inhabitants of the Iron Islands before the First Men arrived, inhabitants different from the children of the forest and the First Men.

The maesters are willing to admit that there is absolutely no evidence that the children of the forest or giants ever lived there, and there were never weirwood groves or worshipers of the old gods like everywhere in Westeros. What is out beyond the Sunset Sea, we don’t know. Possibly the farthest eastern parts of Essos, or maybe Ulthos, because Martin has confirmed that Planetos is round. If there were humans on the islands who crossbred with merlings/merrows/deep ones/whatever you want to call them, just as the crannogmen interbred with the children of the forest, and these people later assimilated with the First Men, it would go a long way to explain the uniqueness of ironborn culture.

There are assorted other things they dismiss out of hand, and some of the legendary kings probably are legendary, but certainly the idea of skinchanging with sea lions, walruses, and “spotted whales” (orcas) is true, and so, likely, is Nagga the greatest sea dragon. While I don’t accept that Drowned God = Cthulhu, that’s because thus far in the series none of the “gods” have been personal deities/beings, but embodiments of the supernatural powers of an element. The old gods are the omnipresent green seer network, R’hlorr is the power of fire, and so I agree with Maester Theron that the Drowned God and his court is a remembrance of the sea-dwelling creatures and forces in water.

That beings said, the maesters declare sea dragons to either be mythical…or long dead. But that which is dead may never die, and if there are monstrous sea dragons still lurking in the depths, resting ala Cthulhu in the Lovecraft mythos, they could be raised or revived, especially if you joined forces with another power that we know can raise the dead. And unlike Cthulhu, Nagga has shown up very prominently in the series, as its bones are where the kingsmoot is held. So expect a zombie sea dragon, along with krakens and maybe the sea people to show up, but not a true Cthulhu, okay?

I found the description of attempts by later kings to synthesize the Drowned God religion with the Seven fascinating. They either made it an eight deity, or interpreted it as an aspect of the Strange (Death). Which, again, is not a good sign that the powers of water are benevolent.

About thralldom for a second here

The ironborn tend to emphasize that thralldom is not the same as slavery, and since thralldom was common among the First Men before the Andals came, we can assume that it was imported with the First Men who assimilated into the pre-existing Iron Island people. And while it’s true that some thralls were much better off than, say, slaves in Essos, there’s plenty of reason to still be against it. The account brings up how thralls sent to mines have a tendency to die off rather quickly, and there are accounts of thralls being used in human sacrifices in ages past. Plus “salt wives” are basically a justification of rape.

Tywin is the Worst, and Lannisters might doom Valyria?

There isn’t a lot mythical to the Westerlands save for Lann the Clever, who may or may not have been an Andal who came to Westeros centuries before the rest of the invasion. It does amuse me that the Lannister’s origin story is somebody using deceit to steal the throne. Either history repeats itself, or growing up hearing stories like that makes you believe this sort of things is cool.

Mostly this section is about kissing up to Tywin Lannister. It makes the Reynes look as terrible as possible, to justify his war crime in murdering 300 men women and children. Tywin Lannister is not your cool magnificent bastard, he is not a morally ambiguous figure at all. You all really need to hate him as much as I do.

Septon Barth, aka the guy who is right about everything, believes the Valyrians had a prophecy that “the gold of Casterly Rock would destroy them” and thus never came to Westeros. The maesters don’t believe this, which means I do. But prophecies are tricky things. Certainly Tywin Lannister made Aerys dependent on House Lannister to pay his debts, which helped lead to his downfall. But it may have been more metaphorical, that the Lannisters in general (whose hair is gold and come from Casterly Rock) were somehow fated to be their end. Whether this is just Aerys or will apply in the future, I don’t know.

Garth the Gardener is a god

The history mentions vaguely that the First Men had deities of their own before arriving in Westeros, and I think with Garth we might have one of them. Certainly he’s given divine powers in legend, related to fecundity. His children are all semi-legendary as well, given great abilities. Most interesting are Brandon the Bloody Blade, who drove out the children of the forest and giants, and Owen Oakenshield, who drove off “selkies and merlings” (selkies are shapeshifting human-seals in Celtic myth, and may be a skinchanger reference, and hints at the possibility that sea people-human culture extended to the Shield Islands as well), and Rose of Red Lake, who was a skinchanger with cranes. The history notes that Garth, as a deity, might have been a dying-reborn god tied to the seasons, possibly demanding blood sacrifices at harvest time.

The maesters euhermerize Garth into a vaguely remembered historical king or dynasty, because so many houses claim to descend from him. And if you think that is a good argument, I am going to make you read the Kōjiki, because no, the idea of human lineages coming from actual deities is not uncommon at all.

Where the heck does Hightower come from?

The section on Oldtown goes into detail on the structure of Hightower on Battle Isle. The oldest section is labyrinthine and resembles the work of the mazebuilders of Lorath, who seem to be half-giants ala Skagos. The fused stone over them hints at dragons. And the mazebuilders in Lorath were destroyed by merlings, so the mysterious “Battle” the island is named after might have been a giant vs merling conflict as it was there.

But the tower built over the base was supposedly constructed by Bran the Builder, who also made the Wall and possibly Storm’s End (although there he just designed it). I don’t think Bran the Builder was a single person any more than most legendary figures, but I do tend to read “created by Bran the Builder” as “created with the use of magic.” Supposedly you can see the Wall from the top of it, which physically would be impossible, but perhaps this hints at a supernatural connection of some kind lost to the ages.

Before I completely leave the Reach, let me note that Yandel completely denies that the maesters killed the High Septon who foolishly opposed Maegor, which pretty much telegraphs that they totally did.

Tarth, because who cares about the rest of the Stormlands

This is where Brienne grew up:

Damn that’s gorgeous, isn’t it? The rulers of Tarth have been called “Evenstar” for so long that nobody remembers where it came from. Nor is it clear if they’re a house descended from the First Men, or if they were replaced by the Andals, who continued the title. Certainly it’s odd that, in the books, Brienne and her father are often surnamed “of Tarth” rather than “Tarth,” or some house name like everywhere else. Tarth was an independent kingdom for some of its history, and perhaps has its own local quirks. None of the “kingdoms” are truly homogenous, after all. The North has the crannogmen and the mountain tribes, the Vale has its own mountain clans, plus the Sisters, and the Arbor and marchlords of the Reach are rather different from their neighbors. I would love to get more details about Tarth and its local customs (and since Aegon’s forces just landed there, maybe we will).

Speaking of different from their neighbors, Dorne is so great

The showrunners pretty much turned Dorne into “fucking and fighting” because that is what a lot of other Westerosi see them as. But even this history, while it has its awkward moments, is more than willing to admit that this is a stereotype and the country is actually complex and diverse. It gets its bad reputation because (1) it treats men and women as equals, (2) it has a cultural institution called “paramours,” where highborn people take partners alongside their more political marriages for love, and who are treated as reputable and part of their families, and (3) if those paramours are the same sex as you, nobody cares. None of this is bad; honestly, it’s all quite great. Nor is it hypersexualized the way the show depicts the culture, it just allows for more freedom and gender equity than their northern neighbors.

These customs are all derived from the Rhoynar, who seem to be our token good water magic users, who could summon up waves down the Rhoyne River to wipe out entire Valyrian armies (expect that to show up in the books as well; Oldtown is toast). But they’re also responsible for the creation of greyscale, so…

Last bit of “oh hey look magic” comes from Benedict of House Blackmont, who could skinchange into vultures. And the history has added another question to my pile: what was in that letter to Aegon?

#a song of ice and fire #the world of ice and fire #spoilers #eldritch apocalypse #theories #write george write as fast as you can

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servantofsadako-blog1 · 7 years

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while it’s cool to think of cloud gaining wings or stuff due to jenova cell’s influence, i hardly see anyone addressing the one special ability that cloud did manifest (that the only other person who did show it being sephiroth).

memory access.

from what we saw in the og, cloud can have access to other people’s memories from these two examples:

1. zack’s role in the nibelheim incident: cloud remembers things that he wasn’t there for so clearly, meaning that he, at one point, had access to zack’s memories before his death (or after? maybe the target doesn’t need to be alive for this to work?) and took enough to patch his role in nibelheim in a way he could cope with.

2. when tifa saw him at the train station: before he saw tifa, i believe cloud was a blank slate. he could walk (not steadily, but enough to make him reach midgar), he had zack’s memories of nibelheim, but he had no personality he could operate with. when he saw tifa walking by, he accessed her memories and based his personality on what she remembered him as and got up no sweat after he was just a heap leaning on the train, to the extent tifa believed he was cloud (luckily, he was in this case but still). you never see tifa say ‘you changed, cloud’ in game, just the opposite really, meaning his mimicking was perfect.

so the first example shows that cloud can access memories of events he wasn’t personally there for. the second example shows that cloud can mimic the personality of anyone based on the memories of the people who knew them.

ifalna said that jenova approached the cetra as a friend, deceived them, and finally gave them the virus. while cloud can’t shape-shift the way sephiroth can, he can still mimic anyone he wished if he tried. he could know anyone’s hidden secrets and kept memories by a glance.

it’s creepy. and kinda neat.

OH BOY I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THIS!

Lemme just preface this by saying that the whole mindreading thing has never been my favorite part of the game… I honestly just like to ignore it because it’s only ever mentioned in passing and literally never explained satisfactorily in the OG and pretty much dropped completely from every other part of the canon. Both Advent Children and Crisis Core, which had every opportunity to expand upon it with their three - count ‘em - three Jenova babies EACH didn’t so much as mention it… the only place we see something that’s even close come up again is in DOC with Shelke’s Synaptic Net Diving ability…

So… if I were to hazard a guess at how Jenova’s mindreading powers work, I’d have to base it somewhat off of that… I think you mentioned before that you hadn’t played DOC so I’ll try my best to explain how this works (honestly this wasn’t explained exceptionally well in-game either, and it’s been a LONG time since I last played Dirge so if there’s anyone out there whoknows better feel free to correct me). What Shelke’s Synaptic Net Dives seem to be is a kind of combination clairvoyance/astral projection that allows her to see and minimally interact with people and things at a distance by travelling through the energy fields that power those things.

I say energy fields because I think the original purpose of this ability was to allow her to interact directly with stored data in a computer or other electronical devices (not sure why that was a necessary skill, but given the fact that Hojo was apparently able to upload his entire consciousness into a Deepground server from on top of the Sister Ray, even if I’m remembering this wrong the fact remains that this technology exists) so long as they are connected in some way (I dunno if they have to be hardwired or if Shelke can EMail her brain to people using wifi or what).

At the end of DOC Shelke performs an SND that takes her inside another lifeform/construct of the planet - Omega. If she could do this - literally send a piece of herself into another living being in order to peek at its insides (and potentially its thoughts, or the thoughts of anyone else she might do this to, seeing as brains are themselves just giant squishy balls of eletrical signals), we can assume that Jenova’s ability to do so probably functions on similar lines. Considering that Shelke was not connected to Omega during her final SND, nor does Omega have a functioning wifi router lodged somewhere in its body, it follows that the energy field she used to access it was the lifestream itself.

Jenova, given her absolutely massive amount of power (enough to wield meteor magic singlehandedly), was probably able to perform her mindreading abilities (and possibly also her shapeshifting abilities) out of sheer force of will alone, manipulating the lifestream directly in order to glean whatever information (genetic or memetic) she needed from the people she interacted with. In fact, I would go so far as to say that Jenova had the ability to do this on a worldwide scale - being able to read the thoughts or shift herself into the form of anyone at all, at anytime, anywhere on the planet (allowing of course for the time it would take to find the specific person she wanted). If her powers weren’t this widespread, how else would you explain the call of Reunion, where she drew Cloud (and the other clones) to her from all the way across the world. (Alternatively, it’s possible that the call of Reunion is a lower-grade power, and that’s what allows it to function on a global scale, while her other abilities must be somewhat more localized… but either way I think their radius of effect is probably still pretty terrifyingly huge). It’s just one of the lovely dangers that comes along with everyone literally being directly connected to everyone else via 'The Force’ - you get one bad apple in there and the infection spreads so quickly (as seen by Jenova’s extermination of the Ancients, as well as geostigma which we have a confirmation was purely spread by the flow of the lifestream and not by any other means of contact or exposure).

In order to SND, Shelke required a decade of rigorous training and numerous modifications made to her body and mind. She also requires the use of assistive technology to allow her to 'jack in’ to whatever she is interacting with. If memory serves, she and the other Tsviets (some of them anyway, I think Weiss and Nero might be exceptions to this rule) were given their superhuman powers primarily through exosure to Genesis’ DNA. This makes Shelke part of Jenova’s legacy - but only indirectly.

Basically, Shelke is a second generation Jenova Soldier, and that, to me, explains why she required such specialization in her training (she’s not a bad fighter and she’s got a pretty boss Shield materia, but her skills with SND so far exceed her skills with combat that after she locates Vincent the other Tsviets deem her to be no longer necessary and try to kill her), why it took so much out of her to learn and use her ability (she’s four-foot-nothing and looks like a ten-year-old because using her skill was so exhausting that her body didn’t even have the energy to make her grow, and suffers frequent fainting spells on top of this), as well as why she required the mechanical supports to successfully SND.

Genesis - her next closest 'relative’ up the Jenova family line never once shows himself capable of clairvoyance/astral projection/mindreading. Even Sephiroth does not exhibit these abilities until AFTER he gets tossed into the lifestream and loses his physical form (or at least the bottom half of it). To me this seems to suggest that not all of Jenova’s numerous powers transfer to her descendents as easily, or as equally - super strength? check. wing? check. mindreading? maybe a grain of potential for this existed in the Sephiroth/Genesis/Angeal generation, but it certainly wasn’t a skill they were instructed to hone, or possibly even made aware of at all (I think anyone in their right mind - or even Hojo despite certainly not being in his right mind - would be terrified at the thought of a living Sephiroth capable of mindreading or limited mind control).

As for Cloud’s apparent but unexplained proficiency for it… well like I said, I like to ignore this part of the game. There’s not really a solid reason given for why Cloud can perform this superhuman feat. I like to think of it (headcanon warning) more as a misidentification of what’s happening. Avalanche has been told that Jenova has the ability to mindread and Cloud in all his lack of self-confidence and willingness to name Tifa his savior in this situation probably assumes there was no way he could have pulled himself together in that moment after everything that happened and decides it must have been Jenova’s mindreading that brought him back to consciousness. I’d argue that the reason he’s so like the Cloud Tifa rembers from her childhood is actually a result of some degree of regression on Cloud’s part due to trauma, and Tifa’s own not-so-stellar memory. But again, that’s just me.

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