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batmanlovesnirvana · 13 days

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— The name he buried

pairing : the darkling | aleksander morozova x sun summoner fem!OC

tags : some of my fave grishaverse accounts on here @stromuprisahat @aleksanderscult @is-today-tomorrow-in-nz @kasagia & @devoted-people-hater who asked to be added on the tags <3

words : + 2,6k

notes : sooo here’s a little snippet from my fic ‘Solar Børealis’ that I’ve been nervous to share (lol)... It’s one of the first scenes I wrote between Aleksander and Sunna, inspired by the iconic lines: “What should I call you? You must have a name. Everyone does.” and “Slaves do not have names.” (thanks to @black-rose-writings for the reblog and @yototothelalafell-deactivated20 for the original post!). Would love to hear what you all think, and if I managed to keep the Darkling true to canon. Hopefully he doesn’t feel too OOC!!! :) I apologize for any mistakes; English is not my first language.

THE FOREST lay in a veil of mist, hushed in a way that made every sound seem sacred.

The only break in the silence was the steady rhythm of hooves pressing into the damp earth, a soft pulse that echoed between the towering trees.

The air carried the scent of moss and rain, cool against their skin as they rode in a shared silence that stretched on, heavy yet unspoken.

Sunniva's eyes wandered toward him—the Darkling—General of the Grisha. His presence was unnerving in its quiet intensity, his expression unreadable, his figure almost blending with the deep shadows that clung to the forest floor.

Standing atop his black horse, he appeared as though he were a living part of the darkness itself, all sharp lines and mystery. His black cloak draped around him like the night sky, merging seamlessly with the world around him, making it impossible to discern where he ended and the shadows began.

It unnerved her—the way he seemed so ethereal, so impossibly perfect, as if sculpted from a dream she couldn't wake from. His beauty was unnaturally precise, a handsomeness that stirred something within her that she could neither name nor understand. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she quickly looked away, ashamed of the thoughts that fluttered unbidden to her mind.

Mammá would have scolded her, a disapproving frown creasing her brow. “Don’t stare at strangers, Nana,” she would say, her tone gentle yet firm. “It’s not proper for a Fjerdan lady.”

Yet, even when her eyes fell, they were drawn back to him, as if compelled by an invisible force. It was like trying to resist the pull of the moon over the tides—a futile effort, a gentle surrender.

Her curiosity gnawed at her, sharp and restless, refusing to be silenced by the quiet.

Finally, she spoke, her voice soft yet cutting through the stillness, "What should I call you ?" The question hung in the cool air, fragile yet persistent, one she'd longed to ask since their first meeting. "You must have a name. Everyone does."

The Darkling didn't look at her, his gaze fixed ahead as he guided his horse through the narrow trail. His silence lingered so long she wondered if he would answer at all.

"Slaves do not have names," he said at last, his voice low and cold, but there was a weight to his words—a bitter edge that struck something deeper.

Sunniva blinked, taken aback by the statement. "Slaves?" she echoed, her dark brows furrowing. "You're no slave."

"Not now, perhaps," he replied, his tone as smooth as ice, though she detected a flicker of something beneath it. "But I was born into a world that would have seen me bound, powerless, just like them." He glanced at her then, his eyes like storm clouds on the verge of breaking, dark and turbulent, yet gleaming with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "I broke those chains."

She stared at him, her heart pounding harder. "And now you bind others in them?"

He laughed, a sound devoid of warmth. "Is that what you think, little saint? That I revel in control? In power over others?"

Sunniva stiffened, straightening her back as she shifted her position in the saddle. The way he uttered "little saint" made her feel small, insignificant. Instinctively, she brought her thumb to her lips, nervously biting the corner. But she wasn't about to retreat. "Well," she lowered her hand, as if suddenly remembering herself, "you rule through fear, don't you?" Her brows arched in challenge.

"Fear," he murmured, a faint smile curling at his lips, "is a tool. It maintains order, where kindness would invite only chaos."

"And what would you invite?" Sunniva countered, her pulse quickening. "What do you really want?"

The horses slowed, and the Darkling pulled his to a stop. He dismounted smoothly, his black cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. She hesitated, but followed, her boots sinking into the soft moss of the forest floor.

He stepped closer, his presence a looming shadow that consumed the silence between them. He towered over her, her head just reaching his broad shoulders, but she stood firm, crossing her arms in a silent attempt to show she wouldn’t be intimidated. His long fingers, adorned with silver rings, brushed the edge of her sleeve, the touch so light it almost felt unreal—yet it was enough to catch her breath.

His gaze, sharp and searching, roamed over her as the sunlight pierced through the leaves, turning her pale hair into threads of spun gold. His eyes lingered on the beauty mark beneath her eye, where her dark brows stood in striking contrast against her fair skin, and then settled on her eyes—deep green, like the heart of an untouched forest after the rain, harboring secrets she hadn't yet revealed.

She was a creature of contrasts—fragile and fierce, light and shadow intertwined. She looked like something otherworldly, a Saint made flesh.

And though he knew he should resist, the pull was irresistible—magnetic, a force beyond defiance. It ensnared him, hypnotic and inescapable.

Foolish boy, his mother’s voice echoed in his mind, but he silenced it. Her beauty—the gentle curve of her high cheekbones and the way the sunlight danced around her—made her seem untouchable. The lavender scent that clung to her was both intoxicating and haunting, lingering in his senses. Yet, there she stood before him, flesh and blood. Real.

"What do I want?" he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. His eyes drifted lower, tracing the scattered beauty marks along her neck before his hand rose to her chest, gently clasping the pendant that hung there. The sun-shaped charm caught the light, and his rough fingers moved over it with surprising tenderness, as though it held some profound significance.

"I want to change this world, Sunniva," he said, his tone tightening with fierce determination. "I want to tear it apart and rebuild it. I want to make Ravka safe for us—for the Grisha. To end its endless wars, to protect it from the chaos that constantly threatens to consume it. So no one ever has to suffer like we have."

She met his gaze, her heart hammering. "We?"

For a moment, something flickered in his grey eyes—something almost vulnerable, but just as quickly, it vanished. He stepped back, the distance between them sharp and sudden.

"I've lived too long to believe in naive dreams," he said quietly, his voice colder now, the warmth from moments before slipping away. "But you—you're still searching for hope in a world that has none."

Sunniva clenched her fists, holding herself back from moving closer. "Maybe hope is all some of us have left." Her Fjerdan accent, still softly woven through her voice, was like a distant melody—one that resonated with him, haunting and beautiful, as if it carried the weight of an ancient song.

The general looked at her for a long time, something unreadable passing over his features. Then, without another word, he turned back toward his horse, leaving her standing in the stillness of the forest, the tension between them thick enough to drown in.

Sunniva watched him mount again, her heart in her throat, pulse racing, but she couldn't leave the conversation unfinished. Not now.

She stepped forward, her voice more sure than she felt. "You didn't answer me! What should I call you? You have a name, don't you?"

The Darkling, still mounted, turned his head slightly. His eyes flicked back to her, the shadows around him seeming to deepen. "Names are for those who seek to be known."

"And you?" she challenged, her gaze steady. "You prefer to remain a mystery?"

A ghost of a smile played at the corners of his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Perhaps you're not ready for the answer."

Sunniva's jaw tightened. She was tired of his evasiveness, of the way he danced around everything while making her feel like she was always one step behind. Stepping boldly closer, she crossed her arms and lifted her chin in defiance. "Try me," she challenged, then added, "or should I keep calling you Wrönche?"

For a long moment, he said nothing, simply watching her with that intense gaze of his, as though weighing her very soul. The silence stretched on, charged with the tension that had been building between them from the moment they'd first met.

Then, finally, he dismounted once more, the air between them crackling as he closed the space.

"I was born Aleksander," he said softly, the name slipping from his lips as if it were a secret long buried. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and unreadable. "But that name belongs to a boy who died long ago."

Sunniva's breath caught.

Aleksander.

It sounded so... human, so unlike the shadow he had become. She had expected something else, something distant, something cold. But this—this was a piece of him that felt real.

"Aleksander," she whispered, almost testing the name on her tongue. It felt intimate, strange. "Is that why you hide behind the Darkling? To bury that part of yourself?"

His expression hardened immediately, the softness vanishing in an instant. He stepped closer, his towering presence making the air feel thin. "Do not presume to know me," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I am not someone you can save with a name."

Sunniva stood her ground, though her heart pounded against her ribs. "Maybe not. But I think you're someone who wants to be saved, whether you admit it or not."

The Darkling’s chuckle was low and dark. “Saved, she says,” he muttered, as if the very idea amused him. His gaze flickered over her, assessing. “What makes you think I need saving?”

Sunniva didn’t flinch. “Because no one chooses to live in shadow unless they’re trying to escape something.”

His smirk faded slightly, his jaw tensing. “You know nothing of what I’ve endured.”

“Maybe not,” she admitted, her voice soft but unyielding. “But I see the way you carry it—like a weight you refuse to set down.”

His eyes darkened, the forest seemed to dim with them. “You speak of things you don’t understand.”

“I understand more than you think.” She stepped forward, daring to close the distance between them. “You think power will fill the emptiness, that control will erase the pain. But it won’t. You can’t outrun it.”

His jaw clenched, and for a split second, she thought she saw something raw flicker across his face—anger, perhaps, or pain. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

He leaned in, so close she could feel the chill radiating from him. "Hope is a weakness, Sunniva," he whispered, his voice like a dark wind curling around her. "It makes you soft, it blinds you to the reality of this world. You think you can change me? I've outlived hope."

"Maybe you have. But I haven't." Her throat tightened, but she refused to look away. "You're a pessimist—"

"No, realist." Aleksander's eyes bore into hers, the tension between them so thick it was suffocating. He was so close now, his breath brushing against her cheek, the scent of earth and something ancient lingering in the air. For a moment, she wasn't sure if he would push her away or pull her closer.

"Realist?" she scoffed, her voice trembling with defiance. "You've given up hope. That’s not realism, that’s surrender."

Aleksander's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as he stepped closer, the air between them crackling. "Hope?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hope doesn’t win wars. Hope doesn’t keep our people safe. Power does."

She lifted her chin, refusing to back down. "And what about peace? What about all of this—" she gestured to the world around them— "Is this your idea of protection? Of safety?"

"I already told you Sunniva. I want to make Ravka safe for us. For Grisha," he said, his voice lowering, thick with frustration and something deeper, almost pleading. "I want to end Ravka’s endless wars, stop the bloodshed, and protect it—protect us—from those who would destroy us."

"And at what cost, Aleksander?" Sunniva's voice softened, the fight slowly draining from her. "How far are you willing to go?"

His gaze flickered with something unreadable, his face hardening into resolve. "As far as I have to."

The weight of his words hung between them, thick and unyielding, as if they had pushed a wall between them. Sunniva could feel the gravity of his conviction, the depth of his determination, and it chilled her to the bone. He wasn’t the type to back down—not when he believed so completely in what he was fighting for.

Then, just as quickly, he stepped back, the tension releasing like a snapped thread. Aleksander turned his face away, looking toward the trees, shadows playing across his sharp features. His voice, when it came again, was quieter, almost resigned. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I'm not afraid of you," Sunniva said, though the words felt like a dare.

His dark eyes slid back to hers, his expression unreadable. "You should be."

Sunniva’s frustration boiled over, her voice trembling with barely controlled anger. “I don’t even know why I care,” she spat, her voice tight. "This isn’t my land. Not my country. Not my people." She took a step toward him, her hands shaking. "But your soldiers—they came through my village. They took my brother, took others… and what for? They destroyed everything. My family, my home, my life—shattered, because of your people."

Aleksander’s gaze hardened. “Your brother was drüskelle, Sunniva. A killer of Grisha. He hunted us—”

“You can justify my brother. Fine. He fought in your war. He made his choices.” She cut him off, her voice rising, raw. “But what about my sisters? My parents? They weren’t part of your war! They weren’t drüskelle. They weren’t hunters. They were just… they were just living their lives, Aleksander! And now they’re gone, all of them, because your men—your war—came to our doorstep and swallowed them whole!”

He opened his mouth, but her words were relentless, spilling out faster than he could respond.

“My parents didn’t even know what a Grisha was! My sisters? They were just children. They didn’t care about the war, they didn’t care about your power, or the politics that go with it. But you sent your soldiers, and now they're gone. I’ve lost everything, and you expect me to stand by your people? Your country ? To trust you?”

Aleksander’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before he regained his composure, his voice low and fierce. "I didn’t order their deaths, Sunniva. I ordered the capture of the drüskelle. Your brother was one of them. Do you understand that? They hunted my—our people. They hunted me.”

“And what about the rest?” she demanded, her voice cracking. “What about my sisters? My parents? You may not have ordered their deaths, but they died all the same. Your war—your quest—it stole them from me."

“And what about the Grisha who died before your family? Your village? The centuries of torture and persecution?” Aleksander’s voice was tight with fury, his jaw clenched so hard it seemed his teeth might shatter. He was seething, each word a flame, burning through the cold between them.

Sunniva stayed silent, unable to find an answer, her throat tightening around the emotions she could no longer voice.

He stepped closer, the barely contained rage in his eyes flickering with something else—something deeper. “I didn’t choose this war, Sunniva. The drüskelle choose it the moment they came for us. I am trying to build a world where no more innocents—Grisha or otherwise—have to live in fear. Where your family, your sisters, would still be safe.”

Sunniva let out a bitter, broken laugh, shaking her head. "Safe? You think you're building a world where people like my family would be safe? No. You're just replacing one kind of fear with another. You’re trying to control everything. Maybe you think it's for some greater good, but all you're doing is leaving more destruction in your wake.”

His gaze turned cold, resolute. “I’m doing what I must. For Ravka. For the Grisha. Whatever the cost is.”

She stared at him, tears burning in her eyes, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re destroying lives in the name of saving them.”

For a moment, something flickered in his expression—regret, or perhaps the weight of his own choices—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. His voice was steely again. “If I don't, who will? The Grisha have been hunted for centuries. You think peace will come without a price?”

He swung back onto his horse, the leather creaking beneath him, but the tension was unmistakable—his jaw clenched tightly as before. Running a hand through his thick, dark hair, he ruffled it absentmindedly, the cold distance between them quickly returning as he resumed the mantle of leader.

Sunniva's chest tightened, her heart racing in her throat. “But what if it’s too late for all of us?” She pressed on, “What do you plan to do?”

The silence felt suffocating, the questions lingering in the air pressing down on her as she wrestled with the enormity of their situation.

His gaze shifted to the horizon, where dark clouds gathered ominously, casting a shadow over the landscape. “What needs to be done,” he declared, his tone firm yet lacking warmth.

Frustration bubbled within Sunniva, and she huffed in annoyance, angrily brushing the tears from her cheeks.

When he turned to her, the coldness in his expression was as stark as ever, and in that moment, she recognized the depths of his burden—the weight of loss and horror etched into every line of his face.

But before she could organize her thoughts or find the right words, Aleksander’s sharp retort cut through the air like a blade. He glanced back at her, his face set in a cold, unyielding mask, making it clear that he had no intention of softening his stance.

"You think I don’t understand loss? I’ve watched my people slaughtered for centuries. You’ve lost, yes. But so have I. So have most of us. Don’t you dare lecture me on the cost of war."

Sunniva’s breath hitched, her voice cracking with fury and grief. "You think your loss gives you the right to take everything from everyone else? You think that justifies all of this? You think it makes you different from the ones you claim to be fighting?"

His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing. "I’m not like them. I’m saving my people, my country."

Her laugh was bitter, hollow. "At what cost, Aleksander? You’re not saving anyone. You’re just creating more graves."

His eyes flashed, but instead of responding, he turned his face toward the trees, his voice icy, a final warning. "Again Sunniva, you don’t know what you’re asking for. And you don’t understand the burden I carry."

She took a step back, her voice trembling with finality. “Maybe I don’t. But I won’t carry it with you.”

For a long moment, he said nothing, his back to her, his grip tightening on the reins. When he finally spoke, his voice was sharp and cold, cutting through the air like frost. “Then don’t.” He spurred his horse forward, his words hitting like a lash. “Spare us both the trouble.”

She flinched at the harshness in his tone, but he didn’t look back.

Sunniva stared after him, her heart heavy. She was angry at him. At herself. At everyone.

The weight of it all pressed against her chest, suffocating, relentless. Maybe he was right, and that was what hurt the most. Each breath felt like a battle against a truth she didn’t want to accept, a truth that gnawed at her insides and wouldn’t let go.

Neither uttered another word as they rode through the forest, the silence colder than Ravka's harshest winds.

Yet, Sunniva couldn’t shake the sense that the battle wasn’t over.

She had seen Aleksander—just for a fleeting moment—beneath the darkness, beneath the icy armor of power and fear.

And now, she couldn’t let him slip away.

I didn’t know how to end it … and like I said, this is just a snippet :) I’m probably going to change/cut things later

Børealis : references the Aurora Borealis (Northern Lights), a natural light display in the Earth’s sky, often seen in high-latitude regions.

Wrönche : Darkling (a term used by the Fjerdans/Drüskelle during the forest scene in the first episode)

#the darkling #aleksander morozova #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x OC #the grisha series #grishaverse #Grisha #pro darkling #darkling #general kirigan #sab #shadow and bone #shadow and bone trilogy #shadow and bone netflix

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moosemonstrous · 3 months

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Ghost Rider in Marvel's Midnight Suns

"All of our Midnight Suns have powers that are rooted in darkness but used for good," informs Marvel's Midnight Suns narrative director Chad Rocco. In the case of Ghost Rider, Firaxis could channel an origin story grounded in pure evil and demonic mischief. "One of the specific comics that our game is based on is 1992's Ghost Rider/Blaze: Spirits of Vengeance in the Rise of the Midnight Suns event, which is also one of the most famous Ghost Rider comics. It featured both previous Ghost Riders: Johnny Blaze and Danny Ketch.

(A 'Danny Ketch'-inspired look for Ghost Rider, artist: Seamas Gallagher)

(Final and early concept explorations for Ghost Rider's head, artist: Dongmin Shin)

"However, because our game is a contemporary retelling of that storyline, we felt that featuring the newest Ghost Rider, Robbie Reyes, would help cement our narrative in the present. Since Robbie Reyes is not yet as iconic as Ghost Rider, we also had the opportunity to really play with the character and make him our own. "We tried to design Robbie in a way that felt very classic and very sleek to visually link him to the previous Ghost Riders and that nineties punk aesthetic with black leather, chains, and styled hair. His depiction in our game is very much Danny Ketch combined with Robbie Reyes. Robbie's storylines in the comics are extremely dramatic, and we felt that imbuing him with more Danny would help us capture that level of adrenaline in his appearance and narrative. For example, Danny Ketch's Spirit of Vengeance was depicted as a completely 'other' being that he carried inside of him, and we wanted our Robbie to have a similar experience. When he transforms, he really becomes this alternate Spirit of Vengeance persona. He's completely driven by justice, consumed by it, and even in his daily life he has to carry the weight of that dark power residing within him." While this wouldn't be the first time that Ghost Rider has teamed up with friends, Firaxis considered how similarly haunted companions might synergise, with darkness in common. "This is a struggle shared by all the Midnight Suns, and Robbie was the perfect vehicle - pun intended - to symbolize that," teases Rocco. "The Midnight Suns are a force of justice and a force of good, but many of their powers are sourced from darkness and the demonic. Their powers are very raw, with this undercurrent of wildness, especially compared to heroes like the Avengers, who deploy their powers in a much more controlled and considered way. However, this also allows the Midnight Suns to stand side-by-side with the more established heroes, because while they are lesser-known characters in the Marvel Universe, they feel just as powerful. Their power comes across as almost limitless because it's drawn from such a wild, unbounded source."

(Artist: Seamas Gallagher)

How, then, to harness limitless power in a game? "When you think of Iron Man, Captain America, or even Wolverine, their attacks tend to be very precise and very measured, whereas the Midnight Suns channel this overwhelming, untapped power and let it rip. In our game, when Robbie summons his Hell Charger, there are flames everywhere, he's hurling chains, the car is bucking like a horse, and hellfire takes over your entire screen. You feel the fury. It's the perfect visualization of the difference between the younger Midnight Suns and Marvel's more mainstream heroes. Robbie Reyes embodies that tension, which is an important narrative thread that runs through the game."

Marvel's Midnight Suns - The Art of the Game (2023)

#robbie reyes #midnight suns #reference #pardon my poor scans #long post

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hiro--aoki · 3 months

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Heyyy!! I was wondering if you could maybe write a ron anderson x f!reader? Where ron walks over to her house and sneaks in through the window, then they start talking on the roof(possibly confessing feelings) tyyyy!!!🫶🏼🫶🏼

Stargazing

A/n: sorry this took so long anon, I was way to focused on the Carol and Daryl fic, but I took the chance to do this one. Hope I pleased. 🤭💕

It was another scorching night at Alexandria since the annual heatwaves hit. You were laying in your bed in just a singlet and shorts. Even still you were sweating. Your hair was sticking to your skin so much you had to pull it back into a bun. You couldn't sleep, not in this oven of a room.

As if your mind had summoned it, there was a not so quiet knock on your window, before it was pulled open and someone climbed through. You jump out of your bed and grab your gun off the bedside table, aiming it at the figure.

"Calm down there, tiger."

You lower your gun, "Ron! What're you doing here?"

"Couldn't sleep, came over to annoy you." He shrugs nonchalantly.

"Of course you did," you mumble under your breath.

"How do you sleep in here? It's like the sun decided to have a sleepover with you."

"Well I wasn't sleeping, for starters-"

Before you can say anything more, he grabs your wrist and pulls you to the window.

"Ron! Where are we going?!" You ask, slightly startled by his bold move.

"The roof." He looks over his shoulder with his shit eating grin that you secretly love so much.

He climbs back out the window and you follow by instinct. You both scramble to the roof, helping each other like the 'best friends you are. Once on the roof you lay down a comfortable distance from each, and it's almost too far. You lay in silence together.

"Those stars look like a heart." You point at a set of stars.

He chuckled and points to a different cluster, "Those ones look like a dick."

You backhand his arm playfully.

"What?! It does." He argues, acting innocent.

You shake your head with a small laugh.

It falls silent again.

"Y/n, I think... I think you're one of the prettiest girls I know." He confessed randomly, a light blush across his pretty face.

You're caught of guard by his confession but quickly regain your composure, "Really?"

He doesn't reply. It's obvious he caught himself off guard when he said that aloud.

He collects his thoughts, "Yeah, you're really pretty."

You smile at him, "You're not half bad yourself."Who are you kidding? He's gorgeous. You see the blush deepen on his cheeks under the moonlight. It's like a painting, better than the Mona Lisa.

"Y/n, I think I have a crush on you." He says seriously, sitting up.

"You...think?"

"No, I know." He says confidently.

You sit up, and look at him. You notice the way the moonlight highlights his feature.

"I...like you too."

"Oh, I knew you would." His cocky grin grew slightly.

"Oh shut it, Anderson. You did not." You can't help but chuckle.

"So, are we like, a thing now?" He asks, the iconic grin vanishing for a second.

"I thought you knew?" You smirk, teasingly.

He's silent for a second, before his confidence returns, "We are."

Tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz

#the walking dead #twd #ron anderson #austin abrams #ron anderson x reader #Ron Anderson fluff

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sepublic · 11 months

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Erzsebet should've become Apophis

I've been enjoying Castlevania Nocturne, but ngl I feel like the show in general suffers from a case of wasted opportunity when it comes to adapting many, many elements of the games. At times it feels like the writers tend to ignore perfectly sufficient aspects of the source material to replace with their own thing, which is fine sometimes...

But with Erzsebet, there really was missed potential in making her more like her game counterpart. In Bloodlines, where she's known as Elizabeth Bartley, she turns into Medusa as the first phase of her boss fight, before fighting Jonathan/Eric as her regular self afterwards.

There is SOME room to interpret this as Bartley merely summoning Medusa rather than turning into her. However, in Easy mode, Bartley just dies once Medusa is defeated, suggesting they're the same person; Bartley isn't mentioned in the end credits while Medusa is, suggesting they're interchangeable with one another (because otherwise, why would this one-off boss have more precedent than the main villain who appears in the prologue???); And at the start of Bartley's level, the player is attacked by a floating Medusa head that shoots out red flames, just like the Medusa you actually fight, and just like Bartley herself.

So as far as I'm concerned, Bartley is Medusa. And that's kind of a big deal to me because Medusa is one of the most recurring and iconic bosses in the series, so to see her, or at least one incarnation of Medusa, receive deeper characterization and story relevance is pretty cool. Medusa is one of Dracula's OG generals, which is why it's a shame she's been completely absent from the show.

Here's the thing; If they wanted to give Bathory a second form, Medusa is right there. It'd even parallel how Olrox turns into a green reptile himself, too! And if the writers still want to make Bathory appropriate an Egyptian deity, as part of her colonizer symbolism that informs Olrox's hatred and rebellion, we've got a perfect fit for Medusa; Apophis!

Apophis is a serpent and a much more explicit enemy of the sun than Sekhmet is in myth; He's the sworn arch-nemesis of Ra and attempts to devour the sun every night, only to be defeated, time and time again. He's said to lurk in the Underworld, too! So this has parallels to Vampires' association with Hell, Apophis fulfills the function of Bathory's hatred of the sun and her plan to block it out... Hell, we even have the theme of an enemy of darkness that must be defeated in a neverending cycle, like Dracula, whom Bathory is taking the role of in Nocturne!

So instead of drinking Sekhmet's blood, have Erzsebet drink the blood of Apophis. This causes her to turn into a green, serpentine monster that also resembles Medusa, making her the show equivalent of Medusa, and a more faithful adaptation of Bartley than discount Lion-O. And since Medusa is consistently green throughout most of the games and in general media depictions, this could also cause Erzsebet's hair to turn green, the same color it was in the games! I think that'd make more sense than discarding what little we got of Bartley in the actual games to instead emulate Carmilla from Vampire Hunter D.

#castlevania #castlevania nocturne #Erzsebet Bathory #Medusa #Castlevania netflix #netflixvania #apophis

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thekingofwinterblog · 4 months

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So looking it over, i have noticed a lot of more similarities/connections between the Kage Kage no Mi, and the magical power system the Five Elders and presumably Imu uses alongside their respective devil fruits.

Arguably the most iconic, and definitly the most usefull of the magical powers they have hoarded for themselves, is thei seeming total immortality, allowing them to regenerate from any wound by essentially resetting themselves back to their default state.

However, we have seen something similar before related to the Kage Kage no Mi.

When stripped of their shadows, several of the victorious straw-hats and allies are exposed to the sun and disintegrate...

only to immediatly regenerate back like nothing happened once their shadows returned, with Sanji and Robin speculating that it was due to their shadows "Forcing" their bodies to match their shadows.

Regardless though obviously less directly controlled by the participants, this visually seems to be very similarily to the aforementioned five elders regeneration above, with similar connections to the element of shadows.

The five elders have access to a form of teleportation through pentagrams that funtions like a summoning. And when summoned, they are in a state that resembles that of of living shadows.

meanwhile, Moria has his own teleportation that allows him to switch places with his detached shadow, summoning it to take his physical place, while he swaps with it, with the inbetween state resembling that of living shadows.

Also interestingly, not only is Moria set to make a comeback in the final arc of the story despite seemingly having made no progress or growth in his combat ability since thriller bark, but Imu's very first action in this series was when he/she ordered Doffy to kill Moria off after the war, supposedly for being too weak, but probably more due to wanting to get ridd of one of the two shadow/darkness devil fruit users at the moment.

And while obviously a lot of the five elders powers are their own, or comes from their own devil fruits, it's also clear that wheter they are empowered by Imu's powers(wheter it be actual magic or a devil fruit), or they merely draw from the same powerset, their role in relation to Imu ver heavily resembles how Moria calls upon his own shadow to fight his battles for him despite being a rather powerfull figure in his own right, but not capitalizing on it to make full use of his powers.

And finally contrasting Moria and Imu, is that there is a unique language Quirk to the Kage Kage no Mi. Every other devil fruit in the series that makes the user labled as a specific kind of being "Rubber man", "magma man", "insert animal here Man", etc-

But not the Kage Kage no mi.

Rather than being a "shadow man" as one might expect, the description of the Kage Kage no Mi, one instead becomes described under the term "Master of Shadows".

Not special on it's own, but it is the ONLY devil fruit in the entire series that is described this way. It could be a coincidence, but it could also be a specific detail on oda's part to set it up against Imu's similar powers and role in the story.

#one piece #theory #gecko moria #imu #gorosei #kage kage no mi #shadows #meta

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marvelmusing · 1 year

Text

Total Eclipse

Chapter Two

Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader

Summary: After retrieving the candles for your saint, you join Mikhael and Dubrov at the market, only to meet someone unexpected.

Word Count: 3.1K

My Masterlist

“You know, these sure could fetch a pretty penny,” Mikhael remarks, hooking a finger over the edge of the leather satchel sitting beside you.

Not looking away from your book, you swat his hand away before he can reveal the contents of your bag to the prying eyes of the market.

As night faded from the sky early this morning, you had visited the nearest meeting point for the Cult of the Starless One. In exchange for the black candles for your church’s altar, you paint your Saint’s symbol over their candles and wooden icons in shimmering silver.

Due to an old superstition in Keramzin, only the Cult uses black candles. Everyone else believes that lighting one would summon a nichevo’ya – one of the monsters created by the Darkling during the Ravkan Civil War over a century ago.

“I know. Hands off.”

Mikhael shrugs.

“Suit yourself.”

At the sound of his smug nonchalance, you glance up from where you’ve perched yourself on a low stone wall. Dubrov lowers a box onto their makeshift table, the wood creaking as the weight of the box thuds against it. As he opens it up, you spot something vaguely familiar glistening in the late morning sun.

“What the hell are you doing with that?” you ask sharply.

He grins at you, cradling one of the necklaces from Lord Morozova’s house in his palm.

“Setting up shop.” He gestures to the necklace before he elaborates, “Handmade jewellery.”

You gape at him in half horror, half amusement.

“There isn’t a single person in Keramzin who will believe that you made that.”

He scowls at you.

“Rude.”

Before you can continue to tell him what a terrible idea this is, Mikhael turns to you.

“Your fellow fanatic’s here.”

Eyes scanning through the throngs of people, you smile widely when you spot a familiar face.

“Yuri!”

His smile is equally as wide, excitement evident on his face as he lifts up a book to show you the deep red cover.

“It’s here!” he calls out.

Two simple words, yet you understand his excitement immediately. The new copy of Istorii Sankt’ya has arrived at Keramzin’s only bookshop.

“Already? Show me.”

Shuffling over the wall, you allow Yuri enough room to sit next to you. He’s wearing his usual robes of black, with his token of the Starless One hanging around his neck, visible to everyone. Your own token lies against your chest, hidden safely underneath the layers of your shirt and jacket, accompanied by the token of Sankta Alina.

He sits down beside you, opening up the book and settling it in your lap. Entranced by the glossy pages, you smooth your fingertips over the words printed on the first page. With careful motions, you begin to turn through the pages.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper.

The faces staring out at you are familiar ones. All painted in vibrant colours, detailing their most holy acts. Continuing through the pages, you soon find your own Saints. The breath catches in your throat as you admire the image of them.

“To your liking?” Yuri prompts with a knowing smile.

The two of you had snuck into the local archive once. All night, you had read through every edition of the Istorii Sankt’ya in their collection.

As an artist yourself, you take the depiction of your Saints very seriously. There is always something not quite right about the paintings you have seen of them, though you are only allowed to paint your Saints to the church’s liking, and you’ve never had enough money for paints of your own to truly capture their likeness as you believe them to be.

“Almost perfect.”

He nods.

“I had a good feeling about this edition. They hired an iconographer from the Os Alta cathedral.”

“That’s the height of devotion,” you murmur softly, tracing the golden rays of sunlight illuminating the face of Sankta Alina.

“Let’s see it then,” Mikhael says, swallowing down the last of an iced pastry. He licks his fingers clean before he reaches for the book. Instinctively, you close the book, folding your arms around it protectively as you press it against your chest.

“Keep your sticky fingers away.”

He feigns offense, grumbling as he wipes his fingers on the dust covered front of his jacket. There is no chance of you letting him touch this book.

“What are you doing for the summer solstice?” Yuri asks you. Mikhael answers before you can give your own response any thought.

“Same as every year, getting as drunk as we can before they throw us out of the pub.”

“Then move onto the next one,” Dubrov adds with a grin. You shake your head at the two of them with a fond smile.

At times, you feel like the odd one out among them, but you had been raised together in the orphanage on the edge of town and they are practically your brothers.

“I’m not sure,” you say to Yuri. “It falls on an eclipse doesn’t it?”

He nods.

Total eclipses happen once every two years in Ravka, and are a day of celebration for followers of the Starless One. This year you’re rather conflicted as it coincides with the summer solstice – the Saintsday of Sankta Alina.

You have never met someone who follows your two Saints. The majority of Ravka will celebrate Sankta Alina on the solstice as usual, while the Cult of the Starless One will celebrate the eclipse.

“I might just do something by myself.”

Yuri nods again, though you can tell he doesn’t like the idea of you spending such a joyous day alone.

“You know you’re always welcome with us.” You shake your head slightly, looking down at your boots.

“I know I’m welcome with you. The others I’m not so sure about.”

He looks down too, watching as you swing your legs gently, heel scraping against the stone wall.

“You know how it is. They aren’t many of us here in Keramzin. The fact that you follow two opposing Saints worries them.”

As always, you bristle internally at the thought of your Saints being opposed to one another. All of Ravka sees Sankta Alina and the Starless One as polar opposite, you however see them as two perfect halves of a whole - incomplete without the other. Which is why you feel so conflicted about celebrating one of them, whilst neglecting the other.

“I know…” You sigh. “I just…”

As your eyes scan over the crowd, your gaze locks onto a familiar face and your heart beat pounds frantically in a flurry of panic.

“Dubrov. Put the jewels away.”

Mikhael frowns at the shift in your tone, sensing something is wrong. Dubrov isn’t as perceptive.

“You see, this is why we don’t like to involve you in this sort of stuff. We know you feel bad, but he really won’t miss this stuff,” Dubrov says, trying to reassure you.

“Lord Morozova is here.”

“What?” He turns quickly, following the direction of your eyes. “Fuck.”

The two of them scramble to shove the jewels back into the box. Some fall on the ground, some land awkwardly in the box, preventing him from shutting the lid properly. They cram brooches and strings of pearls into their pockets. Mikhael kicks a diamond ring under the table.

Once they’ve finished, their table of trinkets looks rather bare but at least they won’t be arrested – or worse. A man like Lord Morozova has the power to turn heads in the opposite direction should he want to punish someone personally.

Whilst the Morozova line has been known to be ruthless during times of war, the man you had met yesterday wasn’t anything like the rumours you had heard about him. Nevertheless, you still think he might react harshly at the thought of you breaking into his house.

Yuri raises a questioning brow, but you shake your head, and he accepts your lack of explanation as he observes the way your fingers run nervously over the spine of Istorii Sankt’ya, subconsciously seeking the comfort of your Saints.

Too busy worrying about what Lord Morozova’s presence here means, you don’t notice the woman by his side at first. When you do, you can’t take your eyes from her.

Her dark hair is pulled back, neatly woven into a series of braids and her eyes are wide as she takes in every sight and sound around her. Occasionally she will pull lightly on Lord Morozova’s arm, pointing something out to him when he ducks his head down to give her his full attention.

When his eyes lock on yours the breath catches in your throat. He tilts his head as recognition sparks in his eyes, then he says something to his wife, and you’re unaware of anything except the pounding of blood in your ears.

“He’s heading this way. Please be normal,” you plead, looking at the two boys who currently look like the most awkward pair of actors thrust up onto stage with only half a script.

Dubrov ducks under the table, pretending he’s lost something, while Mikhael counts their meagre profits of the day so far, fidgeting with the coins to the point in which he drops a few onto Dubrov’s head. With a small sigh, you send a quick prayer to your Saints to protect your idiot friends.

“Lord Morozova,” you greet him with a smile. Hopefully he is too focused on you to pay them any attention. He says your name softly with a nod of acknowledgement.

“This is my wife - Alina.”

For a moment you’re too busy staring at the way her dark lashes brush over her cheekbones and the way her skin glows soft in the sunlight as she smiles at you. Luckily, you manage a reasonably polite response.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Morozova.”

She shakes her head lightly.

“Just Alina is fine, please.”

Clearly Lord Morozova disapproves, his brows creasing slightly as he glances at his wife. Looking down, you wonder how you can agree to her wish without upsetting him.

“Can we compromise on Lady Alina?” you suggest.

She smiles as she hums teasingly, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the playful glint in her dark eyes.

“I suppose.”

Rather shyly, you smile back at her. Lord Morozova takes this as an opportunity to step back into the conversation.

“We’ve been looking for the local paint shop, and I wondered whether you might be able to point us in the right direction.” You nod.

“I can take you there now. If you would like?” you offer, already pushing away from the wall before they can answer.

“We don’t want to trouble you,” Lady Alina insists. You shake your head, picking up your satchel and shrugging the strap over your shoulder. The candles are a little heavy to be carrying, but you don’t trust the boys not to steal a few.

“It’s no trouble.”

As you go to hand Istorii Sankt’ya back to Yuri, he shakes his head.

“Keep it.”

“Yuri-”

“You deserve it.”

Swallowing hard, you smile gratefully at him. He knows what this means to you. Yuri is one of the only people who accepts your unconventional beliefs. Standing on tiptoe, you press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you.”

A shy smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

When you turn back to Lord Morozova and his wife, you find them both watching you intently and warmth flushes over your cheeks. Adjusting the strap of your satchel, you gesture towards a narrow street.

“It’s just down here.”

They both keep pace with you as you stroll leisurely through the small gathering of townspeople. The streets aren’t too busy, which makes you feel less conscious about the attention the two of them gain. Ignoring the eyes, you decide to make some conversation with them.

“Are you enjoying Keramzin so far?”

Lady Alina nods.

“It’s a lot different from the last time I was here.”

Her arm slides from where it had been wrapped around her husband’s elbow, her hand settling into his and you see him offer her fingers a small squeeze. Looking away from the pair quickly, you glance down at the route you’re taking them on before you nod and say,

“It’s still a quiet town, but the market was expanded down to the next two streets last year.”

“Did you grow up here?” Lord Morozova asks you. You nod again.

“There’s an orphanage on the edge of town. Me, Dubrov and Mikhael – the two boys at the stall – we grew up there together and live further in town now.”

“And the other boy?”

“Yuri. His parents own a farm not far from the orphanage.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you remember how Yuri had been the one to encourage your painting. The look of awe on his face, when you had gifted him the first ever candle you had painted – black of course with golden brushstrokes detailing the creation of the Fold – still keeps you motivated even now.

Before he can ask any further questions, you reach the paint shop.

The shop owner – a sharp eyed old woman with an equally sharp temper – scowls the moment you enter the shop, the bell ringing overhead as you hold the door open.

“If you’re not buying anything, get-“ Her words are halted by the presence of Lord Morozova, and she looks back down at the embroidery she’s been working on.

As always, the shop is silent, and you slide your bag off your shoulder to prevent any unintentional damage to the displays.

Lady Alina eyes the art supplies eagerly, gaze falling all the way to the back of the shop, where the shelves weave out of sight into a labyrinth of paints, brushes and canvases. An artists haven. She glances back at her husband, but he shakes his head.

“Take your time, Alinochka. I’ll wait here.”

She doesn’t hesitate for long before she’s disappearing among the shelves. As silence descends between you and Lord Morozova, you rub your thumb over the cover of Istorii Sankt’ya. You had only offered to take them to the paint shop, now that you had done that you could go. But you don’t want to.

This isn’t your first time in this shop, but it is most definitely the longest period of time spent here. Usually, the owner gets cranky over the fact that you only visit as an opportunity to browse and breathe in the scent of paint. Everything in this shop is far too expensive for you.

Luckily, Lord Morozova tilts his head in your direction as he looks passively at a selection of canvases and decides to initiate a conversation quiet enough to escape the scrutiny of the old woman who keeps shooting looks of suspicion at you.

“I’ve been searching for some black candles, Alina and I have them in our bedroom at Os Alta, but I can’t seem to find any here.”

At the mention of their bedroom, warmth blooms over your cheeks. That feels like intimate knowledge, something you shouldn’t know, and yet now every time you light a candle for the Starless Saint, you will think about how a similar candle might simultaneously be burning at their bedside.

“They are rather hard to find,” you admit. He studies your expression, and you wonder whether he can see how flustered the idea of their bedroom makes you.

“You told the minister you would find some at the market.”

“I didn’t say that.” Before he can disagree, you add, “I told him I would visit the market today. I never said I would get the candles from the market.”

He pauses. The corner of his mouth twitches and you wonder whether you had just impressed him. A thrill runs through you at such a thought. He nods in concession.

“Then where do you get your candles from?”

“It’s a secret.”

He smiles with a twinkle in his eyes as he leans closer to you.

“I won’t tell.”

The warmth of your cheeks runs down your body at his conspiratorial whisper, but you shake your head despite the smile on your face.

“I can’t. But I can give you some of mine.”

At that, he almost looks concerned.

“Don’t you need them?”

You shake your head.

“I don’t let them burn long. Just during prayer.”

When you realise what you’ve said, what you’ve just admitted, you freeze, smile dropping from your face. Black candles are only used for prayer to one Saint – the one that he is supposedly descended from. Concerned about his reaction, it takes you a moment to pull your eyes back to his face.

He nods slowly, his smile softening.

“You’re certain? I don’t want to take them from you if you need them.”

You shake your head.

“I’m just under halfway through my last one. I can spare a few.”

Unless you have an exceptionally lonely night. After a particularly hard day, when rest alludes you no matter what you do, lighting the Starless One’s candle always helps soothe you. Its scent is the soft creaminess of candle wax and the crisp berries they use to stain the candle black.

There’s nothing that compares to it, though in such proximity to Lord Morozova, you can’t help but observe that he smells remarkably similar to the candles. He must be wearing some sort of cologne. You don’t think you’ve ever met a man who wears cologne, and you’re tempted to turn your face into him and breathe it in.

Lady Alina returns with an armful of paints and longing fills you at the sight of such high quality supplies. The church give you what they can for your work, but it certainly isn’t the best.

At the prospect of a purchase, the old woman at the counter seems more amicable, though you do your best to remain unnoticed.

Once you’re back on the street, you open up your satchel pulling out a worn cloth bag which you shyly offer to Lady Alina. It isn’t the sort of quality a noble would be used to, but it will help her carry her supplies. She thanks you with a genuine smile and you open up your satchel once again and pick up the first candle you can grasp at.

“Will three be enough?” you ask Lord Morozova.

Amusement touches at his features as he observes you continuing to rifle through your bag in search of more candles. He shakes his head.

“Two will suffice.”

As you’re placing the candles into Lady Alina’s bag, she pulls out a small tin filled with paints – a travel set. She offers it to you.

“Here.”

Looking down at them, your fingers freeze mid-air.

“Lady Alina, I couldn’t-”

“Please, I wanted them for you.”

You blink at her in momentary confusion.

“Really?”

She nods, smiling kindly. You can hardly believe your luck – your own copy of Istorii Sankt’ya and your very first set of paints.

“Thank you, so much.” Your voice breaks a little as you thank her and for a moment you’re tempted to hug her. Then you remember who you’re talking to and step back slightly. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

There’s something sharp that glimmers in her eyes, as if your words had brought back a forgotten memory and she understands your reaction.

“You’re welcome,” she says softly.

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae

TE Tag List: @tartiflvtte

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @housekeeperjjswife

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

#darklina x reader #aleksander morozova x reader x alina starkov #aleksander morozova x reader #alina starkov x reader #darklina au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader #aleksander morozova #alina starkov

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lilisouless · 1 year

Text

I am sorry but the coronation on the show will never be as iconic as in the books. Sure it had an almost murder attempt and the sun summoner making a shadow cut but did they have Nina Zenik stealing a bottle of champagne and getting drunk in the lake? I don’t think so

#netflix shadow and bone #six of crows #leigh bardugo #nina zenik #crooked kingdom #grishaverse

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dcdreamblog · 2 days

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Hey, we are living in scary times, sometimes it feels like the end of humanity will happen in our lifetime. I at least could use some hope. Do you have any stories of the Squadron or the Society continuing to fight the good fight despite the world feeling hopeless? It might help us to remember we aren’t the first generation to live in “interesting times.”

I can tell you THE story of the Society and the Squadron fighting a hopeless battle against long odds. Because it was THE fight both teams were created to fight. It's easy for us to for us to see in the modern day that the Nazi war machine was a house of rotten cards ready for one swift kick where the sun don't shine. In 1940, though, they seemed truly unstoppable.

France had fallen, Britain was under assault from the air and the American public was soundly sticking its head in the sand. American president Roosevelt, although he wished to intervene was hamstrung by an isolationist congress and public opinion.

Thankfully his hand was forced when British intelligence discovered that Adolf Hitler himself had come into possession of a powerful artifact called the Spear of Destiny.

(TW below the cut, Nazi imagery)

(Hitler "unveiling" the Spear of Destiny at an NSDAP rally, July 1940)

Using the Spear as an arcane focus, Hitler's inner circle was able to summon a flight of Valkyries that they intended to use to tip the balance of power in the Battle of Britain. A British agent (only ever identified as Smythe) brought this information to President Roosevelt who entrusted the mission to two of the newly prominent "mystery men" The Flash and Green Lantern.

Infiltrating Berlin the duo was captured and only saved from public execution by the intervention of Dr Fate who, sensing the threat the Spear posed, gathered fellow Mystery Men Hawkman, Hourman, The Spectre, Sandman and The Atom.

After exfiltrating the duo the heroes returned to the US after trashing the Nazis' Murder Machine super weapon. It was then they decided that the time had passed for them to all be individually fighting gangsters in the shadows and once again, the world turned.

(The most iconic photo of the original JSA, published coast to coast December 1940)

They saw the world balanced on the edge and decided that the only solution was to come together. To support one another. To use their strengths when combined to make sure evil could never count itself safe so long as those with the heart and soul to do anything about it were on the job. Like any superhero, that's our lesson too. Evil prospers when we let it, when we allow hate and bigotry to convince us that it's as big and unstoppable as it wants to seem.

But hatred is very small. And it is very outnumbered. And we win when we join hands, plant our feet in the sand and fight for what we KNOW to be right. The future will thank us for every step we take forward.

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satoshi-mochida · 4 months

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Turn-based RPG ALZARA: Radiant Echoes announced for consoles, PC – a tribute to JRPG classics

From Gematsu

Montpellier-based developer Studio Cemlia has announced ALZARA: Radiant Echoes, a turn-based RPG inspired by classics like Golden Sun, Persona, Final Fantasy X, and Lost Odyssey. It will be available for consoles and PC via Steam in 2026. A Kickstarter campaign seeking €100,000 in funding is now live.

Here is an overview of the game, via its Steam page:

About

Restore peace to a world torn apart in this 3D turn-based RPG inspired by Japanese classics. Combine the elements to unleash spectacular attacks, solve magical puzzles, and bring the world together.

Key Features

A Vibrant Tribute to the Golden Age of JRPGs – Take control of four heroes as you embark on an epic journey inspired by classic JRPGs across the stunning world of ALZARA.

Harness the Elements – Harness the elemental magic of Kayla and her allies to battle the invading forces of Vedores. Share the magic to overcome puzzles and obstacles during your adventure.

Intense and Strategic Turn-based Battles – Swap between heroes to combine elemental magic and unleash spectacular attacks. Make offerings to gain favors and summon Legends to defeat your enemies.

A Mature, Relatable Story – Restore Peace to the vibrant world of ALZARA, where the mysterious elemental entities known as Zals answer to humans’ prayers. Lead the Resistance against the merciless invasion orchestrated by the neighboring nation of Vedores.

A Collaboration With Japanese Artists – We are honored to partner with two esteemed Japanese artists for this project. Renowned composer Motoi Sakuraba, celebrated for his contributions to iconic titles like Golden Sun and Dark Souls, joins us alongside main character designer Yoshiro Ambe, recognized for his remarkable work on games such as Trials of Mana and Fire Emblem Heroes.

Watch the announcement trailer below. View the first screenshots at the gallery.

Announce Trailer

youtube

#ALZARA: Radiant Echoes #ALZARA #Studio Cemlia #RPG #Steam #Gematsu #Youtube

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kat-the-meme-dealer · 2 months

Text

i made a smash bros moveset for the lethal company boi. might post more if yall like it

Name: employee

Series: lethal company

Trailer Tagline: the employee makes the quota

Icon: im not sure if theres a proper symbol. but i feel like the employees mask would be a good one

Color swap palettes: we can use the existing suits wich are green, hazard, pajama, purple, bee, bunny, and since were one short lets have the masked as one (bonus note: maybe half the swaps can use the stop sign, and the other half can use the yeild sign lol)

Intro: appears in a beam of light as if teleported in then picks up a conveinetly placed stop sign

Alternate movement options: no

Attacks: (How will your fighter attack?)

A: swings sign like a bat

AA: again

AAA: overhead bash

A Side: jabs the sign striaght forward

A Dash: leaps forward with a kitchen knife

A Down: swings it along the ground

A Up: swings it overhead

Air Neutral: spins the sign like a baton

Air Forward: hjonk a squeeze horn

Air Back: jabs back with the signs post/handle

Air Up: swipes overhead with a kitchen knife

Air Down: slaps down the flat front of the sign. (yes it spikes)

Charge Smash Side: plant the sign in the ground and pull it back before letting it go SMACKing anyone in the way

Charge Smash Up: dig a shovel into the ground and use it to fling up dirt

Charge Smash Down: pick up some metal scrap and get struck by lightning

Grab: one handed collar grab

Grab A: a quick stab with the kitchen knife

Throw Forward: light a diy flashbang in the foes face blasting them away

Throw Back: scoop the foe up with a shovel throwing them back

Throw Up: place an extending ladder on the ground and toss the foe onto it causing the ladder to shoot up knocking em away

Throw Down: give the foe a facefull of airhorn before shoving them to the ground

Up Taunt: looks around as a blue light blinks on the helmets visor, as if using the scanner

Side Taunt: pulls out and reads a clipboard

Down Taunt: point at something random, might be a foe, might be an item on the ground...

B Moves: (What will your fighters B special moves and customs moves be?)

Normal B: inventory use (use the currently equipped item. ill list them in the down b)

Side B: shotgun (pull out and fire the shotgun. its a very poweful move against sheilds and also knocks you back a bit due to recoil, has a bit of a cooldown)

Down B: inventory (pull a chosen item from the inventory simaller to heros spells. heres your options: theres a pack of shotgun shells tat let you fire twice before cooldown, a can of spray paint that acts like pirahna plants poison cloud but smaller, the sun grenade wich is like a deku nut but with a bigger blast area, a TZP inhaler that gives you a buff to your speed and lag, the zap gun wich can be shot at a foe to hold them in place for a second, a circut beehive wich acts the same as the item and finally... random scrap. its just an item you can throw... note that all this is random of course youll only get 4 at a time to choose from and they CAN repeat.)

Up B: jetpack (lets you rocket in a chosen direction with little control. you can use it twice in a row before it runs out of feul sending you into freefall. if you run into someone with it the jetpack will explode dealing big damage to both the enemy and you! youll also go into freefall-)

Final Smash: bird barrage (pull a pirahna plant and summon an old bird to the stage that slowly lumbers around shooting at everything. YOU INCLUDED IF YOU DONT GET OUTTA THE WAY-)

Victory Poses: (How will your fighter celebrate they're victory?)

Option 1: is seen walking alongside a lootbug before just handing over some scrap to it. the little guy then scurries off happily while the employee just seems annoyed

Option 2: walks up holding a boom box in one hand and a gold bar in the other holding the latter up in the air

Option 3: the dropship lands infront of the camera and opens up revealing a group of employees doing the company jig

#lethal company #employees #super smash bros #super smash bros movesets #smash #concept

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dragon-communion · 2 months

Text

Further notes: spirit summoning

Spirit summoning: The UI symbol for the ability to summon spirits in an area is some form of arch or gateway with lines of unintelligible script inside. While this is usually indicative of the presence of a rebirth monument, not every area this appears in seems to have a rebirth monument (ex: boss rooms). This may imply the physical presence of a rebirth monument does in fact have a meaning beyond facilitating gameplay, and can be treated like any other visual storytelling element. Spirit summoning involves the use of a bell and spirit ashes, both of which must be acquired as items to use. Spirit ashes are in fact a literal item, as seen in the arrangement of Roderika the spirit-tuner's workplace and the rudimentary clay urn we hold up when we summon. While it is unclear where the image is meant to be from (perhaps imprinted on the urns?) the icons for the spirit summons involve a stone bas-relief carving of a gateway, with additional decorative details that may imply something about their origins judging by the difference between puppets and spirits. The gateway is notably the same style as the UI icon, with two columns supporting the arch. Barring the starry blue influence of the Nox, all spirit summoning via this method seems to involve light purple magic.

Rebirth monuments: Small obelisks, six-sided. The two notable carving designs are some sort of diamond shape with two "eyes", and an entwined vine motif that I swear I recognize from some other architectural structure. It has two intricately framed depressions, one on either side, that match the rebirth gate pattern of two columns supporting an unbroken arch. The depression in the lip of the base of the structure makes the whole thing a bit reminiscent of a fountain, but none of them seem particularly involved with water. The diamond motif repeats on two of the three layers of carvings, as well as on every facet of the base. Maybe it's meant to be a kind of infinity symbol? It also looks a bit like a fleur-de-lis.

Spirit calling bell: The lip of the bell is lined with twisting designs very similar to the vines on the rebirth monuments, and covered in text that presumably matches the text of the UI rebirth gates. It also seems to have six distinct "sides", though the stem of it is entirely in the round. After much intense and thankless squinting, I believe the design directly at the "crossguard" of the bell is some kind of knotted bow, with another at the end of the handle directly bordering the "pommel". It is topped by yet another of the diamondlike motifs, and the length of the handle itself might be either carved vines or carved ribbons.

Spirit Ashes: Ashes unreturned to the Erdtree. A very strange description considering the Golden Order seems violently opposed to the concept of cremation, and yet some of their heroes have become ash. Nox Puppets are a distinct starry blue, and the carvings of their gateways involve organic flowing vine shapes and half-sun imagery. Ordinary (and legendary) spirit ashes are framed by more blocky geometric designs akin to Celtic knots. Framing aside, the gateways and their text remain identical. Considering the physicality of the image, I'm inclined to think these carvings come from the sides of their urns. The rudimentary quality of the urns as items in-game, and the utter lack of lids, mystifies me.

Additional thoughts:

Why on earth do all of the stationary phantoms around the Lands Between have ghost mushrooms growing around them?

What's the difference between the white spirits we summon, the blue puppets, and the teal particle effects of the Ancestral Worshippers and their related spirits? Torrent seems more comparable to something like the Regal Ancestral Spirit than any other entity. I need to look more closely at his particle effect.

Despite all those colors to choose from, the Spirit Calling Bell and the UI rebirth gateway are distinctly purple.

The magic of the Wraith Calling Bell is black-and-gold, which I'm not even going to begin speculating on here.

#elden ring

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eldritch-spouse · 10 months

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Does Perdition have a day / night cycle? How does everyone track the passing of time? I imagine there's no sun and stars visible. Does time pass differently there, compared to on Earth?

Are the annexes of the rings separated magically in the same way Perdition is separated from Earth? Like, does it require special transport or magic to go from ring to ring?

If you haven't worked out all the particulars yet I'm happy for a partial answer. Good luck with your exams and I hope you do great! <3

Perdition has a day/night cycle, of roughly the same duration as the one the surface exhibits, though this is more of a recent societal development, as time was tracked differently before Hell made efforts to absorb and appropriate many of the surfaces' customs. The passage of time itself is identical, though again, it wasn't always this way.

Neither sun nor moon or even stars can be seen from the skies of Perdition. And while each Ring has its own peculiar tint to the gaseous mass that is suspended in its air, days and nights tend to be darker than they are on the surface, so there's plenty of artificial illumination in areas that cater to non-demonoids. What you see when you look at the skies during the "day" are amorphous cloud-like structures and strange flickers of illumination that sometimes come from the movements of the Rings themselves.

In fact, although the concept of seasons in Hell is quite diminished, the oscillation of each Ring around its other counterparts causes shocks that produce a similar effect to "weather"- Even if snow or coldness in general is basically nonexistent in Hell as a whole, there are still windy months or extremely sweltering weeks, for example. The duration and effects of these "mini-seasons" are always a little unpredictable, even with the best infernal meteorologists around to advise everyone.

The passage of time is not usually tracked simply by glancing at the skies. Well, natives might be able to do this easily, but foreigners might find themselves thinking it's late evening when it's dawn. You're better off using a watch or app that is attuned to each Ring's "timezone". Not that the difference tends to be very jarring from each dominion to the other.

None of the Rings are physically connected to each other, although they exist spacially very close to one another. This makes invasions and wars extremely chaotic, as one might imagine. The main method of transportation from Ring to Ring ends up being rifts. This is a type of magic you may recall the triplets happen to be extremely and unusually adept at, but it normally takes many years of arduous study and practice to perfect these. To make sure a rift can stay active for prolonged periods of time, handle heavy transportations and remain fixed in one location, said rift has to be maintained frequently. What ends up happening is that there exist "main rifts" in each of the Hells, a service which most residents use, sparing themselves the trouble of having to learn how to create these transportation methods.

The Icons can create these a lot more easily than a common demon, but they prefer to be formally summoned through formal sigilry. It's just etiquette, you know?

#general tce #vaya-mernda #this is a disjointed mess but I have many concepts I can't quite organize yet

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sweetescapeartist · 10 months

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MY THOUGHTS ON DRAGON BALL DAIMA

(Wasn't going to post this old draft, but decided to post it anyway since @/puyohero was curious about my thoughts)

Awesome! Love that Toriyama is heavily involved! Love the art & animation and the idea is interesting too.

SIMILARITY TO DRAGON BALL GT

Yes, GT did something similar. However GT sidelined most of the cast. Even Pan & Trunks kinda got sidelined when they were part of the main cast of GT. In this, it seems the other characters will play some sort of role too. Or I assume so. And they will be traveling to another realm/world. So maybe the others will go with Goku.

DB DAIMA seems to be referencing a lot of DB properties & not only GT. As pointed out here...

CAST AS CHILDREN COULD MEAN...

I had hoped it would turn the entire cast into children and glad it happened. Now I hope we get more info about it. Because what I want is for the other cast members to get involved. Gohan & Piccolo are on a similar level to Goku & Vegeta, so then being excluded to only focus on Goku & Vegeta would be stupid. And since it is stated that this series won't be transformation heavy... what if Goku cannot transform into forms he didn't have as a child?? Or it's very taxing on the body if they can. Now everyone can get involved in the battles! Krillin has already returned to martial arts, but we can get my boy Yamcha fighting again! We might even get to see kid Ox King fight alongside kid Roshi. That would be neat!

Now what would be funny is to see a kid version of Buu. Would it be a short chubby Buu or Kid Buu/Pure Buu? Or maybe the magic won't affect him much since he can change his appearance at will. 🤔

Also, I bet there is a joke about Krillin not getting much smaller when turned into a kid again like how there was a joke in OG Dragon Ball that Krillin didn't get much taller & Krillin is upset about the statement.

Also, the chibi reminds me of the Dragon Ball SD manga.

TITLE POSSIBLY ELUDING TO...

Another interesting thing was the placeholder name "Magic" and the current name "DAIMA." Seems like Toriyama is possibly hinting at the Makaioshin. Evil beings with magical power, the Demon Realm being a place where magic rules over science, and the fact that THIS guy looks like a Kaioshin.

So the little guy could be a God of the Demon Realm. Or maybe a God of Destruction of the Demon Realm. Who knows? We'll have to wait and see.

JOURNEY TO THE WEST REFERENCES

I see some Journey To The West/Saiyuki influence in here too which is good cause this is Dragon Ball after all. Goku with a Sun Wukong role, East Kaioshin (Shin) with the monk role. And maybe other characters who are inspired by Saiyuki will play roles similar to their inspirations.

Vegeta having a Sun Wukong role while Bulma has the Tripitaka role

Piccolo having a Tripitaka/Wukong role while Gohan also has the Tripitaka/Wukong role

Krillin with a Tripitaka role (maybe some Wukong role too since he also takes some Wukong inspiration) & maybe 18 takes on the role of Tripitaka in certain aspects?

Yamcha with a role referencing Sha Wujing role

Tenshinhan with a role referencing Erlang Shen

And if the Demon Realm is involved then there is more Saiyuki references. Journey to a dangerous land and fighting demons. This could be pretty cool to see.

GOKU'S DESIGN

And another thing... Goku's gi in Daima. It's becoming closer and closer to his End of Z gi.

The untucked style of Goku's gi in Daima is similar to EoZ, but the colors are still like his iconic orange and blue gi.

MY THEORY FOR THE STORY

In the Demon Realm, the Makaioshin & some Demon God examine Goku & his friends. They speak about Babidi and how he recruited the King of the Demon Realm, Dabura, and still failed. As well as Bibidi summoning & Babidi reawakening the evil beings Majin Buu, then Buu becoming an ally of Goku. Where a sorcerer failed, a Demon God plans to succeed. The Demon God & Makaioshin notice that Goku & company are always victorious due to their strength, transformations, and friendship that encourages each other. So somehow, they are all turned into children to make them doubt their chances of victory. And their power is nerfed too. The Saiyans might have to struggle just to turn SSJ again. I believe it will be through a spell just to be different from GT and not use a wish granting Dragon. The part that shows that a wish was made to Shenron wish was likely after they were turned into kids and they needed help in some way, or they tried to reverse the spell and it was beyond the power of Shenron.

So they venture into this new realm to fix things. Perhaps splitting into groups. Goku & Kaioshin, Vegeta & Bulma, Gohan & Piccolo, Krillin & 18, ect. Some teaming up with other groups too. Get to see stuff like Goku & Tien team up. They learn about the depths of magic & Bulma is surprised because her technology she relies so much upon doesn't matter much in the Demon Realm where magic is their technology.

At some point, they find a way to return to their actual ages and adult bodies. In the end, they confront the Demon God & Makaioshin. Of course Goku would face the main bad guy (along with Vegeta & maybe with Gohan & Piccolo). Godly power vs godly magic. Or something like that.

Now let's wait & see how wrong I am 😂

#Dragon Ball DAIMA #DB DAIMA #DB #Dragon Ball #DBZ #Dragon Ball Z #DBS #Dragon Ball Super #Goku #Son Goku #Krillin #Kuririn #Toriyama #Akira Toriyama

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