#this is like prime first full sapphire set | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shankss-magnificent-ass · 3 years

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Hello😊 I'd like to request something with Silvers Rayleigh (no preference to if he's older or younger) with either the trope of consuming an aphrodisiac or becoming enemies to lovers.

also love all your red hair pirate scenarios, those got me hooked on your page! ♥️

Thank you, I'm glad you like my content, it means a lot to me ( ˘ ³˘)♥. Enemies to lovers or aphrodisiacs huh? why not both? Damn it I got way too carried away with this one.

support me on Kofi and Patreon

Silvers Rayleigh x GN younger reader

words: 1160

You waited in the shadows, sitting on a sack of grain, eyeing the clock tower periodically. He was late, he usually arrived at the drop locations twenty minutes after you did. You pouted and brought your knees up to your chest, determined to wait a little longer. Stealing the artifacts was too easy without Rayleigh competing with you for the goods. You two had know each other since you first started your life of crime. He taught you quite a lot about surviving as a thief, his competitive but playful nature led you to use him to hone your skills because no matter what happened he never hurt you. Although you were usually broke because Rayleigh always managed to snag the treasure first. After about thirty minutes, you stood to your feet and started to prep your grappling hook, when you heard a voice.

“I was wondering when you were gonna stop sulking and get to work.”

You turned around to see Rayleigh lounging on a crate above you, putting your hands on your hip you retorted, “ I was waiting for you,” giving him the stink eye.

Rayleigh mused, “so you did get the scoop about the extra security,” seeming impressed until he noticed your blank look, “ you didn’t, did you?”

“Obviously not, care to share with the class?” You huffed.

Rayleigh sighed, “ you forgot to talk to the porters again… so predictable,” shaking his head, and he jumped down from the crate.

Rayleigh never ceased to surprise and intimidate you, because despite his age he still moves with the power of a man in his prime. He reminded you of a tiger as he rose from the crouched position he had landed in. He put his hand on the wall beside you and leaned over your shoulder, pressing his chest against your back and his chin against the side of your head, and pointed to the storehouse holding the treasure. “They’ve stationed dozens of marines with devil fruits at every entrance, this no longer a job either of us can do solo.”

“My intel said it was just an only necklace, why would they need such heavy security?”

Rayleigh sighed, “the stone set in the pendant is a sapphire the size of your fist and it just so happens to be an heirloom of some wealthy family. It should have been an easy score, but it seems someone was careless when gathering information and they suspect that it might get stolen. So you wanna work together on this or what?”

After planning and entering the building through a skylight, you and Rayleigh made your way into the vault where the necklace was held. It was dark inside the vault, which would make it difficult to go through all the deposit boxes that lined the walls. Rayleigh grumbled, “let's get looking,” he pulled a box out of its slot on the wall and opened it, only for a large fleshy-looking flower to be inside. You both stared at it for a minute before it released a large plume of pollen in Rayleigh’s face. Rayleigh chucked the box across the room, rubbed his watering eyes he exclaimed, “Don’t open any of the boxes! We need to get out of here!”

At that moment the vault door slammed shut, and all the deposit boxes launched out of their cubbies and opened. Each box had a flower that started to pump thick clouds of magenta pollen into the air.

Through these clouds you spot the necklace, you lunge for it only to get a face full of pollen the moment you wrap your hand around it. Rearing back you coughed and choked on the pollen for a moment as you shoved the necklace into your jumpsuit. Rayleigh grabbed you by the back of your jacket and lifted you off the ground. “ Damn it (y/n), don’t breathe that stuff in!!” He sliced the vault’s door in half and books it out of there with you in tow.

Rayleigh stops running once he’s sure he lost those that were pursuing you, he combs back the loose strands of hair that were hanging in his face and takes a deep composing breath. “How are you holding up?”

You were unable to get up, your body hurt too much, you wrapped your arm around your stomach and gasped shrilly, “It hurts! What’s going on with my body,” as you tried to get to your knees. Panic settled in right beside the pain, making your chest feel tight.

Rayleigh crouched down next to you and said, “ you got quite the dosing, didn’t you? Mine is mild because the flower got me exhaling.” He slouched down next to you and rested his elbow on his knees. You could smell him now you could see a line of sweat dripping down his temple, it made your mouth water. He looked down the alley as he explained, “ those flowers have pollen that is a very powerful aphrodisiac, even a few milligrams of that stuff are potent enough to make even me weak in the knees. I think got you probably ten times that but don’t worry it’s not lethal or anything,” he waved his hand and looked over at you. You were giving him a doe-eyed stare, frozen to the where you sat. Rayleigh’s eyebrows fell and he grumbled, “ you didn’t hear a word I said did you?” He waited a few moments for you to respond, but you only started to visibly tremble. “Oh alright.” rolling his eyes he picked you up and carried you off to the hotel he’d been staying at.

Rayleigh threw you down on a chair and shoved a water bottle in your hand, ordering you to drink it as he grabbed towels from the bathroom. In your haze, you drank the water and looked around the room not registering anything other than the blazing need in your body. Rayleigh piled the towels on the bed to form a barrier between you and the mattress, he knew from experience how messy this was going to be. Once he had snacks and water bottles and more towels within reach of the bed, Rayleigh gestured for you to come over to him, you felt drunk as you stood, walking over to him with a big happy smile on your face. He mumbled, “ you’re lost in the sauce huh? I can’t believe you fell.”

You flopped down on the bed with a giggle, you slithered into a comfortable position as you explained, “I didn’t fall, I was grabbing something”

Rayleigh stared and echoed you, “grabbing something?’

You gave him a sly smile, before unzipping your jumpsuit and pulling out the necklace the two of you were trying to steal with a giggle.

Rayleigh was impressed, you had managed to be sneaky enough that even he didn’t notice you had it. You put on the necklace as Rayleigh pulled open your jumpsuit and dove in with teeth and tongue.

#one piece x reader #one piece #silvers rayleigh #rayleigh x reader #rayleigh x you #dark king rayleigh #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #3/17/22 #no beta we die like men

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tabletoptrinketsbyjj · 4 years

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Trinkets, Valuable, 9: More useful than simple baubles touched mystery, these items have either a clear purpose, a reliable ability or are made from a fairly costly material. The items could fetch fair prices to collectors of the strange, jewelers, antique or art dealers or simply to barter with if the owner is short on actual currency.

A collection of mink furs and lightweight silver plating expertly tailored to resemble a suit of plate armor. This was either created as some sort of artistic expression or for a foppish noble who wanted to play at looking like a knight.

A tiny adamantine box filled with curiously strong mints that refills every week.

Portable Shade: A circle of black silk three feet in diameter, but can be folded up into the size of a handkerchief. When unfolded, the material floats into the air and hovers over the bearer's head, moving as he does but no more than 30 feet per round. It automatically tilts to block the sun's rays, providing all the benefits of a parasol, but leaving the bearer's hands free for combat or spellcasting. Folding up a portable shade (An action equivalent to drawing a weapon) ends its effect.

A whale shaped, crystal bottle filled with ambergris.

An ivory signal horn that produced a clear, even, high note. The noise isn't loud, exactly more like it makes everything else quiet around it so that it's instantly the only sound in the area and everything resonated with its pure, simple strength. It is natural and perfect, blowing a single note that sounds like a grand chord before fading away like it had never been.

A large gear of solid iron, enchanted to turn constantly by means of a circular magical diagram inscribed on its face. Although it turns slowly, it does so with apparently unlimited torque; it will turn at that constant rate no matter how much resistance is put on it.

A gold pocket watch with an acorn engraved on the cover. On the inside of the cover will be an illusionary image of the most heinous deed the bearer has ever committed.

A heavy stock business card, coated in wax and decorated with a stylized gold trim. Precisely calligraphed words at the bottom detail how the bearer is a member of the imperial household of Yaret and is entitled the protection of the Yaret name. There is a red thumbprint is the center of the card and the entire object looks impressively difficult to counterfeit. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize the house of Yaret as an ancient noble family with significant political clout.

A shimmering violin carved from elderwood. The instrument has a deep amethyst luster and golden inscriptions in an elvish script. The story tells of a tryst between the God of Forest, and the Mountain Goddess.

A golden falcon statuette encrusted from beak to claw with rarest jewels.

—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A tiny adamantine box filled with curiously strong mints that refills every week.

A whale shaped, crystal bottle filled with ambergris.

A gold pocket watch with an acorn engraved on the cover. On the inside of the cover will be an illusionary image of the most heinous deed the bearer has ever committed.

A golden falcon statuette encrusted from beak to claw with rarest jewels.

A bundle of excellent quality, thickly furred otter pelts tied together with silken cords and wrapped in a protective oilskin case.

A single bone earring that when worn, allows the bearer to speak the language of the undead, but only to say: "I don't actually speak Necril. I only know that sentence, and this one explaining it.” The bearer is not granted the ability to understand the language and doesn’t comprehend what they just said unless they are already fluent.

A light blue orb that is cool to the touch and floats and glows when it's thrown in the air. It hovers five feet off of the ground, shines with the intensity of a candle and always appears to have small snowflakes orbiting it. The floating and light effects cease functioning when grasped or stowed away.

A decorative Random Sword with a hilt consisting of a round pommel, a flat grip and an arched crossguard. The grip is rectangular in cross-section and its hard edges make it difficult to handle and impractical for fighting, which is indicative of the sword's purely ceremonial usage. The pommel and the crossguard are made of silver, while the core of the grip is a brass chest encasing the tang of the blade. All parts of the hilt are covered with golden plates, which are engraved with rounded styli and decorated with niello that contrasts against the golden background.

A pair of silver goblets, decorated with a relief depicting two figures whose arms are entwined, each holding a goblet in their hand and drinking from them. The goblets are identical in appearance, even to the well-trained eye.

An indigo silk purse that belonged to a noble lady. It is intricately crusted with diamonds and sapphires in the pattern of the constellations.

A humanoid skull, which has two large, precious green jewels embedded in its eye sockets and similar gemstones for teeth.

An electrum cylinder the size of a man's thumb, engraved with geometric patterns. Holding it, one can feel a faint magnetic tug towards their head. If released near a person's face, it begins orbiting their head about a foot away until it's caught and stowed away.

A jeweled, ivory hair comb that resembles a great horned owl. Its golden topaz eyes appear to wink under moonlight.

Redhot Hammer: A set of smith's tools that have been enchanted to be able to work metal as if it was red hot without actually needing a forge or changing the temperature of the metal. A bearer proficient with blacksmithing tools does not require a hot forge to work metal but would still need a stump, pile of bricks or an anvil to hammer atop of.

A silk fan that entertains both its bearer and onlookers as it flutters. The fan's animated images show a flowering tree's blossoms first budding, then blooming, then blowing away in a breeze. The bearer is magically refreshed by the slight, fragrant gusts that come from this accessory.

A well-polished silver bowl, the bottom of which has a mirror-like quality. If the blood, hair, or skin of a creature along with a measure of pure rainwater is mixed in the bowl the mirrored bottom with reveal that person's deepest fears and anxieties.

Dragpipes: A set of bagpipes where the bag itself resembles a dragon’s skull. The horns are exaggerated to form the reeds while the player blows through the mouthpiece connected to the back of the neck. The instrument can be played like traditional bagpipes but it can also convincingly mimic the roars of various species of dragon if the bearer is proficient with mundane bagpipes.

A hand-sized black jade casket, lined with gold-shot red silks cradling a jade mushroom.

A carefully-coiled vine of white bleeding-heart, preserved in spirits within a globular glass flask. If used to strike an undead creature, the blossoms will cause damage double that of holy water and then fade into motes of light.

An egg shaped mask cut from an angular, opalescent crystal.

An opaque glass bottle sealed with wax filled with Feywine. Developed centuries ago by an elven wizard and alchemical hobbyist, Feywine is made from grapes grown in the Prime Material Plane combined with ones grown in the Feywild. Sourcing transplanar produce is difficult in the best of circumstances, and combined with the time dilation effect that travelers to the Feywild often experience, the handful of artisans who make Feywine can do so only occasionally. Feywine is dark purple in color, nearly black, but it shimmers when poured as if reflecting bright light. In a glass, it sparkles as if it were full of starlight. Feywine is simply delicious, supernaturally decadent, with a nose of leather and moist earth and dark, fruit-forward flavors.

Box of Smoking: A hollow cube of cedar one foot long on any side with a latched top. When up to two pounds meat and a pinch of salt are placed within and left for one hour, the box's magic smokes it to mouth-watering perfection.

A glittering silver dagger, with a jeweled golden hilt. The object is purely a showpiece and is an unbalanced, unsharpened, unwieldy weapon would be more of a hindrance than help in combat. It would look dazzling if worn on the hip to a formal event which is likely its intended use.

Reusable Writing Tablet: A rectangular slate tablet one foot by half a foot in size that can be drawn on simply by tracing a finger or stylus over the surface. The tablet creates clean white lines in contrast to the grey slate and can be wiped perfectly clean by shaking it vigorously for a few seconds.

A spherical astrolabe, small and brass, inlaid with gold leaf, without a stand. It has six rings, and none of the celestial details thereupon correspond with the earth's night sky. It has a loop upon which it might hang from a cord or chain.

Scarf of Illusory Strands: A bountiful scarf made of long, extremely fine strands of spider silk expertly woven together. Certain strands of the scarf can be tugged to alter the coloration of the scarf, which can change both color and pattern as well as produce a soft bio-luminescent glow of any color desirable.

Captain's Cat: A life sized, black ceramic cat that will animate into a semblance of life if a drop of blood taken from the captain of a ship is smeared on its forehead. The construct will then prowl the ship, until it hunts down and kills one mouse or rat and takes its kill back to where it was animated, whereupon it will return to a statue. The cat can be animated one per day and items like this are typically found on waterborne vessels.

Garment of Lust: A short generic tunic of filmy, expensive material, rumored to have been created by a goddess of desire and love. When worn, the garment transforms into any body garment (dress, lingerie, etc.) desired by the bearer, but it will always be provocatively cut, near diaphanous, or otherwise obviously sexually appealing. Though this item looks unsturdy, it is quite strong, and has the added side benefit of keeping the wearer comfortable in warm or cool weather, but will not protect from natural or magical extremes.

Saddle Blanket of Comfort: A well-made horse blanket with simple but colorful designs. If placed on a suitable mount (Donkey, riding dog, gryphon, goat, etc) the fabric automatically resizes to fit the creature and the material adjusts its own temperature. No matter what the environmental temperature is, the blanket will become either up to five degrees warmer or colder than the standard body temperature of the mount currently it. The mount will naturally make use of the blanket to find a temperature most comfortable for itself without any additional instruction or guidance. For some strange reason, the blanket's magical properties cannot be utilized by humanoids of any sort. Perhaps the creator was more fond of animals than people.

Dawa’s Scrollcase of Safekeeping: An embossed brass scrollcase decorated with scenes of everyday life in Hu Shan, a famous monk of a holy order dedicated to the documentation and preservation of knowledge. The twin endcaps are inset with alternating ivory and malachite wedges. Any item placed in the scrollcase is impervious to fire, moisture, and the effects of aging.

A large, artificial nose made of pure silver, etched with the image of a charging bull on the exterior. The interior of the prosthetic that directly touches the skin, displays celestial runes within an inverted five-pointed star.

Fork of Toasting: A fine silverware dining fork, that would be quite at home on a noble’s feast table. The first time per day that the fork is struck against a piece of glass or fine ceramic less than a cubic foot in size, the object reverberates much louder than it should, gaining in frequency until it shatters. Knowledgeable PC’s will remember stories of objects like these created by disgruntled servants, spiteful nobles and minor trickster gods who for one reason or another wish to upset the toasting of high class society.

Krakenesque Quiver: A sharkskin quiver worked with intricate designs of a monstrous squid destroying ships and eating sailors. Any ammunition kept within it, is sheathed in an illusion causing it to appears as one of the squid’s writhing tentacles. As soon as it’s removed it returns to its normal appearance.

Cerulean Candle: A foot-long blue wax candle, that’s engraved with flowing letters and decorative golden emblems. Creatures sleeping within 30 feet of its light experience unfamiliar but joyous dreams, clearly from the life’s of other creatures. The candle will burns indefinitely, never consuming its wick or wax and can be extinguished and relight as often as desired.

Shadowdancer: A one-foot-tall pink quartz statuette of a masked, dancing succubus. It somehow remains clearly visible in darkness, though it appears to shed no light. If the statue is held and moved about, it causes all shadows within 60 feet to dance about as if they were cast by flickering candlelight.

A brass oval that always displays the current temperature with a moving set of lines.

Eau de Faerie: A crystal nebulizer with a pink bulb that mists a pleasant floral perfume. The scent of the perfume lasts for one hour after application and makes you irresistible to pixies, sprites and other fey creatures. These creatures can smell you from up to 50 feet away and will attempt to touch you, unless you have shown yourself to be a threat to them. Goblins, hobgoblins, bugbears and other natural enemies of the fey can also smell the scent from 100 feet away, but they will become furious and attempt to seek out the source of the scent and destroy anyone wearing it.

A rusty old fishing hook which becomes a grappling hook when submerged in water for more than a few seconds. It reverts to its smaller form after being dry for one hour.

A pair of heavy earrings each bearing a sapphire carved in the shape of a leaping fish hanging inside a golden hoop.

Dwarven Mastbreaker: A particularly mischievous item that resembles a collar for giant animals and is comprised of two large halves, hinged in the middle. It is masterfully sculpted out of bronze and decorated with several dwarven runes. When clasped around the mast of a sailing ship, the runes glow orange and a soft humming sound can barely be heard as the device slowly spins around the outside of the mast. After one minute, the device will have cut through any mast, causing it to fall, possibly on the ship itself. The object was designed for sabotage but it can be used in a more mundane setting to cleanly cut down large trees in a single minute without much effort. The mastbreaker will function twice per day and it can be stopped at any time by unclasping it from the mast or tree it’s attached to.

An ornate chest made of solid gold, banded with silver, filigreed with platinum and encrusted with precious stones. Inside it is a stone tablet engraved with the words "The real treasure were the friends found along the way."

Animal Caller: A small carved wooden oval, with a hole at both ends and a piece of sinew strung across one of the holes. When the name of an animal is whispered into it and the bearer blows into it the Animal Caller will perfectly produce the mating call of that animal. The item is indispensable for use by hunters and rangers however it does have a niche use at confusing keen eared bird watchers.

A pair of wire and glass spectacles that fits most humanoids. While worn, the bearer is able to see musical notes as they emanate from musical instruments, creatures or objects. In additional the spectacles impart the bearer with the ability to read the notes and comprehend which notes are which.

Blanket of Warmth: A soft fur blanket makes whoever is touching it comfortably warm. The material magically eliminates sweat, and bodily odour on the area of the body it covers. No matter what the environmental temperature is, the blanket is always five degrees warmer than the standard body temperature of the species currently using it. ---Note: A human's average body temperature is 37° Celsius or 98.6° Fahrenheit.

A long, sleeveless surcoat covered in the holy symbols of the elven pantheon, embroidered with threads of precious metals. The garment is intended for ceremonial wear by the highest clerics. Stoles of four different colors accompany the garment, corresponding to the four seasons.

Decanter of Decanting: A crystal decanter that holds one gallon of liquid when full. When used to pour a liquid or powder, the bearer can always stop pouring at precisely the amount desired (Unless there is not enough to begin with), down to a single drop or grain. These are often used by alchemists, potion makers and mages when preparing concoctions that require extreme precision. The bearer gains advantage on any checks made to mix or measure exact portions of ingredients.

A Randomly Coloured crystal collar that has no obvious means of opening. When placed near a creature’s throat and the command word is thought, the object liquefies, flowing towards the victim's neck entirely then solidifying. The fit is tight, causing the creature some discomfort, though not enough to cause any harm or penalties. The bearer can never remove the collar, however any other intelligent creature can remove it by simply touching the crystal and thinking of the command word, causing it to liquefy and reform in the other creature's hand.

Flask of Scent: A clear crystal flask filled with a clear liquid that can absorb the strongest scents of its immediate surroundings and distills it into perfume. Once absorbed, the liquid will retain the scent indefinitely within the confines of the closed flask or until the bearer pours liquid onto another object which replaces that object’s smell with the absorbed scent. This effect is temporary and wears off after 3d4 hours. The flask must be filled with pure alcohol in order to be able to absorb a scent and can only absorb a single scent or environmental scent every 24 hour period. When found, the flask contains the following random scent: (Roll 1d6 to determine): 1. Fresh wildflowers 2. The smell of an exquisite perfume 3. The smell of deliciously cooked meat 4. The smell of a sexually active animal (Imperceptible by most races) that can act as a musk lure 5. The smell of hideously spoiled dairy 6. The smell of feces.

An elegantly curving silver clasp wraps its way around an orange-red gem, which has been polished to a near-perfect smoothness by the flow of time.

Matchmaker's Band: A gold Claddagh ring, crafted in the shape of two hands clasping a heart. If the wearer places it on their left hand ring finger they are aware of any creatures within ten feet who would make good romantic matches (Either with the bearer or with each other), as well as roughly how good together they would be.

A crystalline human heart wrapped in gold barbed wire.

A bundle of insulating yeti pelts tied together with seal sinew cords and wrapped in a protective oilskin case.

Malleable Symbol: An undistinguished lump of indeterminable material that radiates divine potential. By concentrating on it for one minute, a creature who worships a deity may transform the lump’s shape and material into a masterwork holy symbol of their God. The symbol reverts to its nondescript lump form after being away from its bearer for 24 hours.

A golden mask resembling a stern face, glowering at the world.

Sanguine Veil: A simple veil, made of blood coloured silk and decorated with small red gemstones. If the bearer bites a creature through the veil they deal damage and drink the blood of the target as normal but the bite leaves no mark of any sort. The victim will experience an orgasmic rush when the bearer bites into their flesh and repeated attacks over a period of time may lead to an addiction to being bit in this manner. Knowledgeable PC's will recall that objects such as these where extremely popular with vampires and certain demons such as succubi for a length of time before the only artificer capable of creating them died of blood loss.

A flask of a silver mithril alloy that uses a crystal prism as a stopper. It is covered with concentric circles engraved with astrological symbols, representing the influence of the stars.

A mithril piton set with a flawless crystal embedded into the spike just below the striking end. Several golden runes are inlaid down the shaft.

A gold comb, with a tail cast in the shape of a swan’s head and neck, its wing revealing the teeth of the comb.

A torc made of mithril and gold twisted together in an intricate pattern capped with balls of leaded glass.

A fist-sized gemstone that glows with an internal light, illuminating the cloud-like formations within. Knowledgeable PC's can identify the mineral as fire opal.

Wands of Dueling: A lacquered wooden box on the lid of which there is an image of two wizards holding wands pointing at each other. The inside of the box holds two wands and a note with simple instructions. One wand is black with three red gems on the bottom, the other white with three blue gems. While a pair of individuals hold these wands they engage in a competition by having one wielder request a duel and having the other accept. The wielders then engage in a battle of wills (Making opposing intelligence rolls) and the winner’s wand launches a bolt of arcane power at the losing duelist. This deals no damage but causes pain similar to a potent static shock. Afterwards the one of the gems of the winner’s wand lights up. The duel is a best of five competition and when a player wins, their wand creates a small victorious melody.

A pair of ruby-studded gold bangles, the interior engraved with tiny flowing script too small to read with the naked eye.

A fist-sized spool of fine silvery wire, thinner and stronger than anything you’ve encountered before. You get the feeling that it would be more likely to cut you than to break if you put your weight on it.

A square foot pane of amethyst quartz with a gold symbol representing chaos in the middle of it.

An elegant, polished driftwood sculpture depicting a griffon and small dragon mid-combat. The intricate detail and delicate features demonstrate a mastery of the craft, even to a layperson.

A finely sculpted marble bust of a middle-aged, balding bureaucrat. The moment that you make eye contact with the statue, it acknowledges your presence with a wink.

A brilliantly coloured bright silk tapestry animated to depict a quiet wooded hill overlooking a pond. It is incredibly relaxing to gaze upon.

A well carved, half walnut prosthetic foot complete with carved toes set with gold nails.

The skull of a sphinx set with a gold torc depicting a sphinx being pulled apart by wild elephants.

A burial linen containing a silver and gold funerary mask depicting a raven.

A pair of loaded dice made from platinum that jingle melodically.

A rose water sprinkler made from ornately woven gold and agate. It contains an unidentified substance that does not smell like rose water.

A beautiful silver pocket watch whose face is studded with a glorious profusion of detail: two extra dials, a moving star chart, the phases of the moon.

A weatherproof scrollcase containing a legal deed for the ownership of a tavern called the Knotty Pine in a nearby province.

A matching set of eight ivory figures. When left together and unattended, they will shift positions and poses. They will remain in their new pose until they are observed and then left unattended again. These poses are always scenes from a famous tragedy written long ago. Once complete, the figures simply repeat. If any figure is removed from the set, they all stop working.

An extravagant crystal decanter filled with a rich amber liquor

Coin of False Fates: A common looking silver coin that when flipped and called in the air, always lands on the opposite side called.

A rolled coil of fine, dire spider silk rope, 50 feet in length and woven so closely that it seems like a solid, flexible cable.

Fool's Ace: An unassuming card that to the untrained eye, is a faded ace of any suit. However, on further inspection, the "A" is actually a small rune which creates weak illusions. By tapping the Fool's Ace against another card, the rune changes that card into another ace- and any card touching the changed card is also changed, turning the entire hand into all aces. The illusion is broken by taking the cards affected by the magic and shuffling them. These cards are used for cheating in games, but there has been the occasion where a Fool's Ace has been implemented where the goal is to find the original card before the entire deck becomes identical and has to be re-shuffled.

A masterwork lute made of ceylon ebony wood, with a fingerboard of rosewood. The base is constructed of ancient mahogany, while the face is of the now-extinct cradlewood tree. The edges of the sound hole is a deep green made from powdered jade which has been epoxied into the depression. Within the jade is fine gold inlay in elvish script that reads “Sil vyrdaes sai tyli sil shys bethaendrol amon si vyrdaes sai tyli caethiel” (The power to move the world begins with the power to move hearts). Knowledge PC’s will recognize the instrument as the one played by Ilestria a bard of great renown.

A fire opal that seems to glow with an inner fire, scattering the light across its many intricate facets. Whoever cut this stone did so with an expertise that is nowadays rarely seen.

A clay statue, in the form of a man with a Phrygian cap, an elongated chin and nose and a sardonic expression. His eyes are cut glass which resemble gems and down his chest and stomach are three other cut glass imitation gems. Knowledgeable PC’s recognize the image as one of Phuukh, an ancient god of trickery and jest. Some hieroglyphs are scratched on his back and legs but apart from that, there is nothing of interest on the statue. Inside the clay, however, are three real gems, a piece of diamond, a topaz and a sapphire. They can only be obtained if the statue is broken and when it is, a peal of mocking laughter will ring out and slowly fade away.

A large iron box inside which can be found seven bolts of expensive silk dyed in rare colours. The box has three locks and sealing material set into the edge of the lid to prevent moisture and pests entering and ruining the contents. The box is not currently locked. On the side of the box are the remnants of a customs seal that shows the box was last used six years ago and gives partial identification of the shipper.

An ivory-inlaid snuff box. A knowledgeable PC can determine that the decorative crest of a boar smashing a ship belonged to the infamous privateer Sir Brutus Blackwater. To the right expert, such a piece of history could fetch quite a hefty sum.

A solid gold wine chalice encrusted with a diamond and ruby rim.

An intricate mechanical clock with the inner workings exposed. Every day at noon the gears shift into a new configuration but the clock continues without missing a beat.

An embroidered indigo silk robe with cloth-of-gold panels, blue gem-beaded sleeves and mink trim. The beads are lapis lazuli and there are 50 on each sleeve. It is suitable for a tall human woman and fit for nobility.

Victory of Elora: A large and intricate tapestry showing the life of a great human cleric named Elora. A piece of the tapestry has been ripped out, what it missing is unknown, although Elora is shown with child in the next panes, so it’s possible it to have been censored by an overzealous inquisitor. The tapestry is very valuable, the missing piece would make it nearly priceless.

A strange coin that seems to be an amalgamation of copper, silver, gold, and platinum, shaped into the image of an eight pointed star. The faces of the coin both depict a warped, tentacle creature of aberrant origin.

A heavy silver chalice. It is engraved with a myriad of blasphemous obscenities and polished to a fine finish. It is cool to the touch and the unholy object is a hateful mockery of the communion cup that holds consecrated wine in some religious ceremonies.

A set of noble's clothing spun with gold and silver thread adorned with malachite and red quartz stones.

A silver statuette of a saint that unscrews to reveal a hidden flask filled with holy water.

Last Words: A scrimshawed bone bracelet, enchanted by an unknown restless spirit that often whispers indescribable commands to its bearer. Should the bearer rest a hand upon a dead creature, the bracelet whispers the last words they spoke before their death.

An illustrated map of hell drawn on vellum fashioned from the skin of an angel.

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luca-moreno · 3 years

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operation asteria

“Ben,” Luca wheezes, clutching at the hard edges of Ben’s scarlet armor as Ben holds him up. It’s slippery under his gloves, streaked with dark blood from whatever unfortunate creatures had found themselves in a hurricane’s path. “Wait, we can’t… we can’t go yet.”

There’s a furrow to Ben’s dark brows. “Why?”

“My pack… They took my pack. Neeboo-“

Ben goes phoenix still and Luca wonders what he’s sensing. In the distance, the dust cloud grows bigger and Luca has to bite back the whimper in his throat. He hates that he has to ask this of Ben but without his pack, his drone, this whole exercise would be for nothing.

Eva would be hurt for nothing.

“Ben,” Luca begs, a lump thick in his throat. “Please.”

There’s a shift in Ben’s eyes as he gently unhooks Luca’s hands from him. He helps Luca sink weakly back to the ground. Luca squints up at a shimmer of sapphire and rubies and emerald eyes.

“Stay,” Ben tells him before backing away and whirling to disappear in a wink of blue sparks. The displaced space he leaves behind makes wind rush in Luca’s lungs and his damp curls billow in the dusty air.

In Ben’s absence, Luca prays and count his own heartbeats in an effort to stave off his rising panic.

One…

(Please hurry)

Two…

(Please, Ben)

Three…

(Ben!)

Ben reappears with a boom before Luca can make it to five.

The space port is pandemonium, but at least as bloodied and limping as they are and with the captain carrying an unconscious Eva against his chest, they blend in easily with the frantic crowd.

Luca is relieved to find the shuttle still in one piece, except when Ben practically has to carry him inside, past the crates full of parts and supplies Luca had arranged to be delivered earlier (was it really just a few hours he was draping a scarf around Ben’s neck and licking sticky sweetness off his fingers?) they discover a panel has been ripped out and the shuttle’s coms have been severed.

Luca is good with tech and basic repairs but even he can’t unmelt a circuit board.

That’s not what he concerns himself with first though.

The medkit is strewn around him on the floor of the shuttle and his hands shake - not from blood loss but from the cocktail of stims injected into his system. He’s going to overlock himself, he knows, the human body couldn’t exist in this state for too long, but Ben grabs his hands and holds him until the shaking stops. “It will settle. You will be… okay.”

Luca wonders how Ben knows, or if this kind of heightened state is just normality for a phoenix.

“Uh, thanks, I think,” Luca gulps and shudders as the captain crouches beside him.

Isaac had ripped off his helmet earlier and his dark hair is now plastered to his forehead with sweat and concern. Luca glances past him to where Eva has been reverently placed onto her side, her head pillowed under one of the decorative cushions they’d bought before their encounter with Vance. She’s so still and pale. So pale, it’s all Luca can do not to lose it right there at the thought she might not wake up.

“Luca,” Isaac says calmly. How does he do that? How does he stay so calm when she’s so still? “Son, I know you’re injured but-“

Luca jerks his gaze away from Eva’s still form. He knows what his captain needs, he’s the only one that can pilot the shuttle and the longer they stay here, the higher the chances Vance is going to finish whatever he started. If they were going to get off world, it was going to be up to him.

Luca draws in a deep breath and sets his jaw determinedly with the realisation, forcing down the queasy roll of his stomach. He knows it, and they know it, which was why they didn’t question the pricks he’d been shoving into his own skin.

“I can do it,” Luca tells him, proud in himself when his voice doesn’t shake. Or at least he doesn’t think it does. “I can get us out of here.”

The relief on Isaac’s face is palpable and Luca flips the med kit shut and shoves it away. Ben helps him limp into the pilot seat and Luca thanks him for the second time in as many hours. He’s going to have to think of another way to thank Ben for continually coming to his rescue, Luca thinks to himself briefly. Maybe a whole shipment of scarves or fried eyeballs.

He wastes no time running through the pre-flight sequences and priming the shuttle’s engines. No one says it, but Luca knows they’re all praying that whatever sabotage the shuttle received was limited to coms and not much else. The last thing he wants is to break past the atmosphere and discover this little tin can isn’t space worthy.

A sudden explosion nearby rocks the shuttle in its clamps. Isaac growls something under his breath and wheels back to Eva. Luca doesn’t need to look back to know he’s gathered her up against his chest protectively.

“Get us out of here, Ensign,” Isaac calls, the curt command in his tone dripping with urgency. Luca responds on instinct, disengaging the clamps and pushing the throttle forwards. The engines fire and screech as the shuttle lifts.

“Steady,” Luca mutters to himself. “Steady…”

Another explosion rocks the air around them, this time close enough that Luca struggles to keep the shuttle level. Ben throws out a hand to brace himself against the console as they’re jostled and Luca winces in apology.

“Sorry,” he mutters then points the nose of the shuttle up and maxes the power out. It’s a rocky climb, the shuttle handles differently in the atmosphere – and slowly. So slowly it feels like they’ve aged ten years before they finally escape into the black.

By the time the artificial gravity kicks in, Luca is panting over the controls and desperately trying to keep the meagre contents of his stomach down. The effects of too many stims is wearing off and he’s nauseous and weak but he can still hear Isaac behind him, although it sounds like his voice is coming a long way away.

“Luca, what… what are you doing?”

It takes him a second to focus enough to formulate an answer. “No comms,” he mumbles. “Navigation is shot. Trying to… al.. alert… L.. Ryan. He’ll come… he’ll come get us.”

Ben catches him just before he passes out.

Back on the SSV Berlin, Lieutenant Ryan is not having one of his better days.

“Luca, what the hell, boy,” he mutters, noting the erratic blip of the shuttle on his displays. “I taught you better than tha-“

He hunches forward then realization dawns. “Bloody hell. Get Commander Miller up here, NOW.”

#scooter roosevelt #eva novakov #isaac cerrillo #lt ryan #luca moreno #operation asteria #it was more epic in my head

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aros001 · 3 years

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Going in blind: Watching season 5 for the first time. Random thoughts.

Episode 1: Well...that dinner got dark. From what other fans have told me apparently Glimmer gets a lot of hate for her decisions during the series and I just find that odd. I was more annoyed with her in the early seasons where her actions were more harmless simply because she had no patience and wouldn't listen because of her immaturity. Season 4 and here though? Even her most reckless and risky actions have at least been fueled by the genuine desire to keep people safe during a very hard situation. Even here, yeah, she tells Prime something it's very bad for him to know but he was going to have Adora and everyone else literally murdered before her eyes if she didn't. I can't really be mad at Glimmer for making a bad choice when it flows logically and fueled by the desire to keep the people she cares about from being slaughtered.

I don't think we've ever seen Catra this completely at the mercy of another person before, save maybe for Shadow Weaver when she was a child. She has nothing to offer that Prime doesn't already possess. Nothing he wants that he can't get for himself. Her relationship with everyone these past few seasons have been either "I'm your commander and you have to do what I say" or "You are my commander and here's the reason you have to keep me around". This time she has nothing to protect herself behind and the only reason she's still around is because Prime might think of a use for her later.

I love having Scorpia on the heroes' side.

Episode 2: That ending though.

I think what helps elevate Entrapta for me and keeps her for being annoying or irritating is that the show really sells that she just genuinely has trouble understanding why she should/shouldn't be doing certain things. It's not stupidity or even pure self-absorption, she just struggles with people and social ques while machines and science is a lot more straightforward. Heck, she was probably able to bond so well with Hordak because work together in the lab was them meeting on a common middle ground she could understand and relax in. The way she's trying to overcome the issue to help save Glimmer reminds me a little of Mob from Mob Psycho 100, feeling a little frustrated in not understanding something that she knows she should be.

Episode 3: Anybody else get a Disney's Hercules vibes at the end there?

Catra: "Besides, O Oneness, you can't beat her! She has no weaknesses! She's gonna kick your...!"

Prime, smiling: "I think she does, little sister." [Strokes Catra's hair] "I truly think...she does."

This episode really sold how completely isolated Catra is. With the sole exception of Glimmer, she's in space, no idea where exactly she is, onboard a ship filled with nothing but Prime and hundreds of cultist clones. Throughout the entire series we've seen Catra push everyone away and now that she's in a situation where she is almost well and truly on her own with no power, freedom, or authority, she seeks out the one other person around to find any sense of comfort in. Despite everything, Catra doesn't like being alone.

Little child Catra lashing out because she didn't want Adora to have any friends other than her kind of reminds me of Glimmer and Bow during the Princess Prom episode. I imagine it's the same mentality. Growing up in isolation, even if in different forms, and finding only that one person they feel thay can really lean on, there is that fear that they'll find someone else they like more and start caring about them less, or even outright stop. The difference is Bow set Glimmer straight, assuring her he'll always be her friend no matter what but he's not going to be just solely dedicated to her. Her fear was understandable but she was not respecting him as a friend either. Adora never really had that with Catra, one because she was much younger and less mature than Bow, and Catra was probably all she had too, to an extent. As we saw season 1, she was always trying to look after her, even when Catra needed to take responsibility for herself. Bow is not Glimmer's keeper, while Adora too often was that for Catra, so Bow and Glimmer have a better foundation of mutual respect while Adora and Catra's dynamic has been really screwed up for a long time.

Kind of tying into that, despite all that's happened between them, the minute Adora hears Catra's in distress she starts panicking and tearing up. The last time they saw each other they were very much enemies and Adora was done reaching her hand out to her. I suppose you could make the argument she's really been hoping all this time that Catra would finally do the right thing for once, just probably didn't expect it to be like this.

Prime better not mind wipe Catra like he did Hordak.

Episode 4: See, calling the heroes the rebellion now makes sense since they are rebelling against the established power, which is Prime.

Love that trick with the reflections, where you can sort of see/sort of can't see She-Ra. A nice little tease for what I imagine will be a big reveal later.

I really like that explanation for what Bow's going through. Last season's finale was the last he'd seen Glimmer and was desperately trying to save her, and he's been consistently worried for her since then. Now that she's safe he's starting to let himself process his other emotions towards her, and I totally get it. It's hard to be mad at someone when you're also terrified over what might be happening to them, even if your anger is justified. While I get why Glimmer last season did what she thought she had to, it was still a big risk that Bow warned her about and she didn't listen, putting them all in danger. This situation and Glimmer's words is a very mature way of handle this topic. He's not wrong for being mad and it's not a contradiction to what we've been seeing from him this season. Humans and emotions are complicated.

Episode 5: SHE HAS PAAAAAAAAANTS!!! (I will miss the cape though)

That almost makes up for them cutting Catra hair. Seriously, that mane was beautiful!

But boy, speaking of Hercules, that return of She-Ra definitely felt like Hercules emerging from the pool of souls to save Meg.

With the one clone being disconnected from the hive mind and having a breakdown over it, that does make me wonder if Hordak has been connected to it. Wasn't he deemed a defect because Prime couldn't connect to his mind? I suppose it's possible that flaw was corrected. Clearly Prime can take over minds other than just his clones, like with Catra. But if he could do that I'm wondering why he just didn't when Hordak was first created and he instead cast him out to Etheria.

Was Catra purring at the end? I swear there was a sound that sounded like purring.

Episode 6: Assimilation is easily one of my biggest fears in fiction, be it zombies, Borgs and Cybermen, Get Out, the freaking Sapphire Dragon from Xiaolin Showdown that scared the hell out of me as a kid! Just the concept of having your free will and autonomy completely ripped away from you, potentially with you still being aware but unable to do anything about it, is horrifying! At least with Prime's chips the process is reversible.

Anyway, in lighter plots, I kind of love Wrong Hordak. He's really funny. I feel bad that he's being deliberately misled, but he really shouldn't be following Prime anyway, so...

I do like that Adora is being a little more tough on Catra. She needs kindness, yes, but she also needs honesty and discipline, the kind that has actual love and care behind it, unlike what she got from Shadow Weaver. Adora is genuinely trying to help so Catra needs to stop acting like a brat and LET HER HELP.

Episode 7: Catra was definitely purring.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume people probably ship Scorpia and Perfuma. Not that I have any problem with that. It's like the Midoriya/Todoroki ship; I don't ship it myself but I totally get why others do. It's a relationship based in mutual respect and one of the characters having a significantly positive effect on the life of the other. As long as the shipper themselves is not horrifically toxic, I don't care.

Also, I don't think I've ever been so intimidated by Mermista before than I was with that one shot of her in silhouette, just before the reveal she was chipped.

Episode 8: Okay, I definitely love Wrong Hordak. Just that realization of his. "Horde Prime...lied to us..." There's just something about it that's so full of character. Obviously he's a brainwashed clone but he was truly devoted to Prime and just to find out that he would keep something so big from them, from the hive mind that's supposed to be so open to him and each other, it destroys everything he ever believed in. It's hilarious to watch him prepare to lead his brothers in a revolt against Prime.

I assume magic is Prime's "weakness" in that he himself cannot control it. Obviously he can control magical beings like Spinnerella and have them use magic but magic itself is too free and too powerful for him to contain and fully fight back against. He's all about order and stillness and magic is basically chaos.

Episode 9: I like to believe the mushroom kingdom they saved is a Mario reference.

Something I like in hero stories is "the power of a name" or "the power of a symbol". Something as simple as Superman's S-shield can have so much weight and meaning behind it just because of the person it's tied to. She-Ra isn't just a powerful warrior to the people of Etheria, she's a hero of legend. We saw it touched on even back in season 1 how much Adora returning She-Ra to the world meant to everyone. She-Ra to them is a symbol of hope. If they have her on their side, then they believe they might be able to win and with that ordinary people can find the strength to fight too. It's something I think the Green Lantern put best with how the Blue Rings of hope supercharge the Green Rings of will but lose a lot of their functions when the greens are not around. Hope is useless if you don't have the will to also act, but in turn hope can give people the will to act. The more hope they have that they can win, the more they will fight to win.

That was the nerdiest comparison I've ever made.

Episode 10: I appreciate a good bad dad joke and that's why I can't approve of "punderstand". It's too much of stretch to flow well. "Ruined" was good though.

I'm less surprised that Scorpia's been chipped and more that she's even alive. She was at the bottom of the ocean when the roof broke and she's a scorpion woman. I don't think water is a very friendly element for her. She's even commented on how good the desert was to her.

I wonder her She-Ra mode is not working for her simply because Adora is exhausted; mentally and physically. I don't think she's ever used the form this continuously before, and she's been doing it without the First Ones' sword that she has experience with. Her new sword and its transformations may be made out of her own energy for all we know. And then there's just the emotional toil of having Catra back in her life while it feels like more and more of the world is being turned against her.

Episode 11: Oh, I'm definitely shipping Hordak and Entrapta.

I think Re:Zero has spoiled me on dark magic. While Micah with his dark magic is a threat, in this show and many others dark magic basically just equates to "spooky, evil, bad stuff" magic that isn't that different from most other kinds of magic other than being either harder to control or more geared towards causing harm. In Re:Zero, dark magic was DARK. It felt unnatural, like a perversion of how their world's magic is supposed to be and that it didn't belong in this reality. Micah's dark magic is basically "I'm attacking you with shadows, oOoOoOo so scary!"

Not really surprised Catra left. She just got Adora back and now she's potentially about to let herself die. Perfuma said it best, letting people in and letting herself be vulnerable is hard. Caring about Adora and watching her die would be a huge blow, so Catra would rather curl back up into her shell and block out Adora again than have to risk taking that hit.

Episode 12: I keep saying it but now having them right next to each other, yeah, Mara's She-Ra outfit is better than Adora's. I don't know, there's just something grander about it. Anyway, on topic, I'm a big fan of superheroes and legacy and all that and I really like Mara's words to Adora. All she did and sacrificed was so that others, especially the next She-Ra, wouldn't have to do the same. It doesn't matter how noble and heroic it is, tragedy is tragedy and anyone who knows that kind of pain doesn't want anyone else to have to go through it.

I'm not surprised by the love confession between Glimmer and Bow. I felt it could go either way with them either hooking up or just staying really good friends, but that in itself is a sign of how good and natural their friendship is. I can easily buy how it would evolve into something more between them. The situation they're in probably helps. When Glimmer was taken they both thought they might never see each other again and that fear and worry probably caused them to reevaluate how they feel about the other. They've been clinging to each other since getting back, as every day could be their last. Something like that is naturally going to push two people together.

Episode 13: So...are there any plans for a season 6? Or a comic continuation like Avatar and Korra got? Because this was a good finale...buuuuuuuuut I feel there are definitely some things that needed a bit more exploration.

This is typically why I like stories with epilogue endings, especially those set some number of years in the future. Little glimpses of what everyone's doing now, allowing the audience to fill in for themselves what happened in-between. There's nothing wrong with this episode but it does just kind of...stop. They beat Prime. Everybody's cheering and happy. Adora suggests they bring magic back to the universe. And...that's it. We don't see anything more. No aftermath, no post-war, nothing. We end on the moment of victory, and while it's not a bad moment it leaves the ending feeling a little incomplete.

It kind of feels like the writers either really had to rush to the ending to make the 13 episode deadline or simply didn't want to address whatever happens with Catra and Hordak now. With the bigger threat of Horde Prime it makes sense why everyone puts aside past issues and works together. But now that the crisis is over, naturally everyone would have to address everything the Horde had done to Etheria for years with Hordak and Catra leading it. Don't get me wrong, I believe that Catra loves Adora, I believe Adora loves her, and I believe Catra wants to be a better person. It's not like I'm saying she needs to be locked up or executed. But she did cause a lot of damage and put Adora especially through hell, and just because Shadow Weaver is the one who screwed her up so bad doesn't mean she doesn't have any responsibility for her own actions. So it just would have been nice to get even a little bit of lip service to show that Catra would be trying to right her wrongs from this point forward, instead of just "Prime's gone, everyone's happy, bye!" At least with Entrapta she seemed to genuinely not understand why what she was doing at the time was wrong and Scorpia, like Adora and Huntara, defected from the Horde to do the right thing despite it being even more part of her upbringing than anyone else. I can't even imagine what happens with Hordak now.

Don't get me wrong, this is far from the worst I've ever seen a redemption handled. I haven't read/watched any of Boruto outside of the movie and Gaiden tie-in but I've read all of Naruto and there is no reason that Orochimaru should just be walking around and casually talking with people after all he's done. Kaiba in the Yu-Gi-Oh manga built an entire theme park to try an murder Yugi and his friends and they bring it up like twice after that arc. Kylo Ren turning back to the light was one of the potential paths for his character, so that made sense in TROS, but they essentially did "He died heroically and therefore totally redeemed himself for every terrible thing he's ever done."; basically a cop-out. Catra's alive and can at least potentially still own up to her actions and work to redeem herself. And I love Steven Universe, but kind of like with Catra nearly killing everyone (including herself) via the unstable portal, fans have naturally pointed out that the Diamonds enslaved and committed genocide on multiple planets and really faced no consequences for that other than "Stop it". Catra's not at the gold standard of redemption stories, which for me is probably Zuko and Endeavor, but she's far from the bottom. I think the best way to describe it is that Catra had as good, if not better, reasons for being so bad and screwed up as Zuko did, just as good step-up for turning good as Zuko did, but she didn't have nearly as much payoff afterwards to make it feel like a full journey like Zuko did.

But enough about all that. Love the basically goddess She-Ra Adora became. Given the emphasis on healing powers with She-Ra we've had, I'm guessing that's essentially how she destroyed Prime. She purified Hordak and Prime was basically an infection within him. I like when heroes snatch victory from the jaws of defeat but I also when there's an implication towards the villain that "Wow. I never stood a chance." She-Ra's power just dwarfs his. Full potential realized by Adora and he was just gone.

Also I don't know how I forgot that Prime could jump into the bodies of his clones but his possession of Hordak got me. I genuinely couldn't think of how he'd survive after Hordak shoved him off the edge (set free by the power of love!).

And even if the ending feels a little incomplete, the episode itself still did well with my emotional investment. I was gripped by during Catra's confession and the tension within the heart.

Season 5 and overall series verdict: I'm very glad I saw this series. Even though its ending falls a little short for me, this was still really good. Seasons 3 was probably my favorite overall but this story had a very good flow to it. It steadily built up bigger each season, with Catra and Hordak being really compelling villains driving the whole thing. Not that Prime was bad. He was a genuine threat and his cult of clones is a good creepy concept. He's just not as good as the other two. I'm sure part of what elevates him up is because I'm thinking of the JL director's cut but Hordak really is just better Steppenwolf. Everything that worked about that character, Hordak is that to an 11.

Given how I've talked about her more than any of the others, Catra is probably my favorite character. Just the damage that girl has been through. I always understood why she was doing what she did, even though there was rarely a moment I'd agree with exactly what she was doing. Again, it's one of the reasons it feels like the series just kind of ended. There's a lot to be seen with Catra's character now, a lot that can be done, and it just feels like a shame to really not show any of it. This isn't a fault of SRPOP itself because so many series, especially animated and anime, are guilty of but it always bugs me when a series ends on two characters hooking. Relationships are interesting, I'd argue more so than the build-up to them, but no writer ever wants to actually explore them after the hook-up. I never cared about Korra and Mako being a couple but I still found their relationship as a couple more interesting and character building than any of the will they/won't they build-up to it. And I actually like the idea of Adora and Catra as a couple. It's a big reason why I'm so happy the Harley Quinn animated series got renewed for a third season, as it otherwise would have just ended on a hook-up between two characters who, like Adora and Catra, love each other but have had a complicated dynamic for a while. I believe Adora and Catra love each other, but they've got a lot of stuff to work out and I want to see that! Catra's got abandonment issues and that in turn caused her to be unhealthily possessive over Adora. Just seeing the two of them try to work through that alone would be fascinating.

Like I suspected early on, Scorpia's my favorite supporting character. Entrapta's a decent 2nd. Took a small dip when it seemed like she was joining the Horde over feeling abandoned by the princesses when they thought she was dead but that picked back up once it was made more clear "Oh, okay, you're not being petty or stupid. You genuinely don't understand." It made her a more interesting character, and I love her and Hordak's relationship.

Least favorite characters...probably Sea Hawk and those three former Horde friends of Adora and Catra. I never hated them but I never cared about what was happening when they were on screen. They fill out the world a bit, they drive the plot, they're not wastes of space, they even get some laughs. There are just so many other characters in the series way more interesting than them.

Biggest surprise for me was definitely Glimmer and Bow. I never thought I'd dislike them but the best friends characters in series like this can kind of go one way or another with how relevant or deep they are. Glimmer especially I was surprised how much I was invested. She really grew a lot as a person throughout the series and I thought the dilemma over the Heart of Etheria was a good one.

Honestly there's a lot more I could talk about but I have only so many words and my thoughts are a jumble right now so I'm going to leave it at that. I will say I really appreciate how supportive you all on this Reddit have been. It's something I hate about some other fandoms I'm in where they basically are so toxic that they make no one else actually want to watch/read the thing they're fans of because they can't help but associate it with them.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrincessesOfPower/comments/o2p6wq/going_in_blind_watching_season_5_for_the_first/

#she ra #she ra spop #random thoughts #reddit repost

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spirit-of-vengeance · 3 years

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@spxcemuses @mr-mansnoozie @xxstar-bluesxx

Guess who gathered enough mind to finally write her full backstory of Western Verse. Her being a bounty hunter is set in the Wild West time period (1865-1895), there is no current year(s) to set her story in mainly because I don't want to make a mistake messing up the timeline.

Calm before the storm

Her father, Attila a lesser Hungarian noble whom supported the 1848-1849 revolutionary war but after the failure of it he escaped emigrated to America to avoid the Habsburg revenge, soon followed by his brother Gábor. He could save a small amount of his fortune along with his two most important horses: a purebred Lipizzan stallion and an extremely rare Akhal Teke mare. He had settled near a small town, due to his financial situation and education as a noble he established a school with the support and approval of the local church. To quieten his guilt for abandoning his country in its peril, he poured all of his heart into educating children; at least he is still useful in some way.

One day, a group of artists traveling artists, acrobats traveled through the town and the aristocrat fell in love at first sight. She was like the queen of fairy from the folk tales he'd heard in his childhood, she was tall, blue eyes sparkled like light sapphire, long golden brown hair floated ethereally with every twirl. The smitten lord shamelessly courted the the graceful acrobat, determined to know at least the name.

The group had stayed in the town for a few weeks, allowing Attila's and Myra's romance to blossom; after a month she ended up staying with him, just like in true fairytales.

My obsession with angst backstory strikes again

The lord was in love, deeper than poets could express it. Since the loss of his home and country he had found his place in the universe along with the perfect companion by his side. He paid less attention to the school, the church and other public affairs; it wasn't like he abandoned them but became more withdrawn to spend time with the love of his life, especially after the birth of their daughter. She was almost the perfect miniature of her mother, same beautiful hair glinting gold in the sunlight, only her eyes were the brightest emerald green he'd ever seen.

While Myra's heart and aura was as pure as a fairy's; the local church was beyond distressed. They claimed that Attila had completely abandoned helping those in need because of her wicked seduction. When they witnessed her performing for the amusement of the crowd, the 'temptress witch' brand couldn't be lifted. They gathered a few enthusiastic townsfolk whom shared their views and a few morally questionable men whom only wanted a piece of the lord's fortune.

10 year old Karma was awakened from her deep slumber by her frantic father; smoke and yelling blinding her senses as he carried her out of the burning house into the nearby forest so the mob won't find her. He promised her he will be back but he had to return into their home for Myra; he couldn't leave her inside. Karma watched her dad disappear into the flames, the air filled with suffocating smoke and religious shouts for god to smite the sinners. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the spot where her father was gone, waiting for her parents to stumble out of the half collapsed building; but that never had happened. She sat unmoving from her spot, struck staring into the flames then into the ashes as the sun has risen.

Birth of the marksman

Attila's brother, Gábor arrived the next day after hearing the news, he was the one whom found Karma still staring at the ruins in a catatonic state. He couldn't avenge his sibling as it meant endangering his niece and she has lost more than enough.

Gábor expected her to become a soft spoken, reserved lady once she overcame her trauma; that theory was soon abandoned when once he had awoken to his niece practicing with his rifle outside with frighteningly great accuracy. The young girl naturally had an extraordinary aim and after a few long talks, he'd seen the determination burning in her to avenge the murder of her parents. Given by her mother's dance lessons, she was also flexible and capable of many different acrobatic moves; this combined with her aim proven to be a very dangerous combination.

To not awaken suspicion he told his friends Karma was an orphan whose parents were killed by bandits and he had adopted her to give her a family and education. Karma was fascinated chasing greater heights of her skills, this involved reading every possible book about anatomy, marking, engraving the useful spots of the body. Karma knows where to shoot to disarm, to cause a slow death, to paralyze, to disable for life and when it is only a warning: an injury which will heal with time. Along with her accuracy, her drawing speed only can be compared to lightning. Although she prefers/most comfortable with her dual revolvers (model undecided yet), she is still a menace with shotguns, rifles, flintlocks and even bows due to Gàbor's 'A Hungarian is not a Hungarian if they can't use a bow' mindset.

The bounty hunter quicker than death

Karma had her first official gunfight at the age of 18 on the auction. for Vihar (Storm), the filly of her father's horses.

Detailed post about Vihar

She officially entered the bounty hunter business when she was 20 and Vihar was 2, aiming for the most dangerous criminals whom committed the worst acts possible. In her early years after the kill she slit open corpses she trying to find the bullet, surverying the damage it caused and adding filler information to her anatomy knowledge. Of course she didn’t bother burying the bodies, she knew as a woman she has to be extremely vicious above talented to be hired and mutilated dead bodies did send a great message & served as cement for building her reputation. The name Karma wasn't entirely her idea, many thankful family members claimed that karma has came for their loved ones' murderers. Her talent spread like wildfire among the men of law, glad to be rid of the dangerous scum; with careful planning, use of environment and Vihar as backup she had wiped out gangs, not solely focused on individuals.

Unfortunately her reputation summoned an unofficial grand price on her head as well in certain circles; they had tracked her back to her uncle's house. The battle claimed Gábor's life and nearly her sight as her right eye was almost slashed out. The new loss opened old wounds: her not being able to protect her loved ones. She couldn't look into a mirror, the scar a reminder how despite all years of training she wasn't untouchable; after burying her uncle plan to gain control over her psyche already formed.

She took a knife and carefully carved four half circles around her eye to form a crosshair with her pupil being the middle of it. She made sure she kept the wounds open for enough time to scar as visibly as the vertical cut; she wanted a symbol to add to her legend. Excuse my pathetic excuse of an edit, I'm not good in this, nor I can draw.

Now Karma is 25, Vihar is 6, both of them in their peak physical prime; the name Vihar is also symbolic a little, Karma is the lightning to her horse. She is dancing on the thin edge of bounty hunting and being an outlaw as she often takes...side jobs to help people who deserve it and usually that person doesn't have a bounty on their head, therefore it is technically murder.

Local antisocial feral monk & cocky gunslinger feral lady / addition of the AU with the amazing @mr-mansnoozie

Near her uncle's house, Karma had discovered a cave and a grumpy mute monk living in it along with his pet bear. The monk, Sandy eventually became a second uncle to the traumatized angry orphan, he taught her how to move & creep upon someone soundlessly, disappear without a trace, cover her stances and behavior patterns of various animals. Before and after returning from a job she always visits her uncle of choice for a chat; a silent way to prepare him to the possibility of her not coming back. But she always do. She considers Sandy as part of her tiny family, although his...copying mechanisms with his own traumas were a bit strange to get used to; she adapted quite fast, after all who is she to judge with a past like that?

I'm a dead man walking, Hell's at my door.

aka collection of small headcanons

🎯 Her dual revolvers are called Salvation and Damnation because she's dramatic

🎯 Karma has a small sketchbook filled with anatomy drawings for further practice.

🎯 She actually can sing, but rarely does, only to Vihar since she never received positive feedback on it. Her voice is gritty, rugged and deep; definitely not the usual and desired sounding from a woman.

🎯 If her target was an outstandingly cruel bastard and/or one of those whom killed her parents she uses a little psychological torture. After fatally wounding them she starts whistling (for the most terrifying experience wear headphones & close your eyes while listening) as they try to crawl away or beg for mercy. The first time the whistle gets shrill & more intense is when she lazily reloads, knowing she has both the time and the upper hand. The second pace shift is when she aims; she shoots during the last, long drawn out high note.

🎯 This is her only verse where Cindy is afraid, no terrified of fire; during her....26 AU's she's always been associated with fire despite dying in or being wounded by it. In this verse she is more tied to lightning, the scent of smoke is enough to send her into a silent panic attack and despite loathing the cold she will never sit close to the fireplace. Her other deep fears include injuring her hands & sight and losing Vihar. Her horse is the only remaining family member of hers, she can't fail her too.

🎯 Most of Karma's scars, injuries are a result of her standing between Vihar and a knife/bullet/ even a bullwhip when a criminal was smart enough to catch on their deep emotional bond.

🎯 She has recurring night terrors about the night her parents died, she always wakes up in cold sweat; she's sort of used to them. Though, sometimes she still cries but thankfully Vihar is there to comfort her.

🎯 Karma has a special morning stretch routine to keep her flexibility and warm up her hands & keep them steady and fast.

🎯 Due to her dad and uncle she received high quality education

🎯 For the untrained eye, the belt of her hat are simple crosses while in reality, they are inverted crosses to symbolize her stance with Christianity

🎯 Karma's middle name is Emerald, given by her father due to her eye color.

🎯 Karma was first inspired by League of Legends Miss Fortune because that name alone is great but unfortunately she is too pirate coded for a western so I abandoned the relation. Though when Karma is not being the 'Call me a slow reader but I only made it to the Dead part, the or Alive didn't register.' ; her personality is similar to hers.

🎯 Due to her dad, Karma is actually half aristocrat. Not like she cares about it the slightest; the only indication of noble blood is her idle stance. It is an unconscious mirror of how her father used to hold himself: back straightened to almost impossible point, left arm behind it, right hand resting on the grip of in her case, revolver instead of hilt of a sword.

🎯 If given the chance to live a normal life, she would've grown into a captivating, lively young woman, much like her mother but with the aristocrat elegance of her father; finding a suitor who lives up to her parents' and her standards would've been the challenge of the century.

🎯 Her special move is called Dance of Death. This is used as last resort when she's facing more opponents up to 12, as with her dual revolvers she has 12 bullets without reloading. She mentally marks the stances of all opponents, predicts their movement, firing order and possible way of their bullets before whirling out of her hiding place. Each pose minimizes the chance of getting shot, and with each change of movement two bullets are fired, two men drop dead.

🎯 Her accuracy isn't just 'gun goes boom >:D' but a combination of natural talent, endless practice, movement prediction, sharp, quick thinking & analytical skills and different techniques molten together to utilize them all at once

🎯 Her hair is now as long as her mother's, she always keeps it in a single tight braid to keep it out of the way; without her hat and hair down she actually loses some of her dangerous edge.

🎯 The only physical memory Karma has of her parents is her dad's hussar sword she found underneath the ruins of the house, it was protected by a very thick wooden box & a lock of her mother's hair is tied to the grip. She has hidden it in the nearby forest, her thoughts often wander to it along with the wish to wield it.

#🦂 western au🔥| one shot; one kill #🔥headcanons🔥 | secrets of the fire #I can't help myself with the little hungarian details can I?#it just makes me so happy because my country doesn't really get any recognition in media & it feels good to weave the history of my country #into a badass character #I also spent 2.5 hours typing this. my fingers ;-; though totally worth it 😄#🔥alright to reblog🔥| let the wind carry the cinders

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im-the-king-of-the-ocean · 4 years

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Rose Puppetry Ch3: Grimm

Summary:

A century ago or so, Atlas set out to conquer the world. Penny was built to be a spy, an infiltrator meant to find weaknesses in Vale’s defenses before the invasion.

She did. Then she fell in love. And rebelled against the kingdom that had created her.

Ch1. Ch2.

No thick, pollution smog billows over Atlas.

As they emerge out from the service tunnel onto the streets, Penny and her team stop to gaze upwards. They don’t have the time to spare, but they can’t help themselves. It’s not often they get to see the sky like this, sprawled out above them like some great, sapphire painting.

Penny grimaces. Beautiful as it is, the sky is a reminder of all that’s been taken from her too. Even after this mission, even if it’s successful, she won’t be able to simply relax and enjoy a peaceful, sunny day. Not so long as she has to always look over her shoulder for the Atlesian Military.

At least she’ll have Ruby back, Penny quietly reminds herself, so, perhaps, being haunted by the ghosts of her past won’t be so horrible.

Setting a determined, brisk pace, Penny leads her team down the street. She glances at each and every person they pass. Sure, they have a well-prepared cover story for why they’re there and what are likely some of the best fake IDs in existence, but those things were attained for the eventuality of them being stopped and questioned. They do nothing to prevent that happening in the first place.

The first pair of eyes that avert their gaze when they accidentally look in Penny and her team’s direction she doesn’t think much of. The second, and then the third, though, indicate a pattern. No one wants to notice them, Penny realizes. She observes as fancily-dressed Atlesians see them, and then abruptly cross the immaculate street. Businessmen in finely tailored suits push past like Penny and her team don’t exist. Elegant ladies in silky dresses huff and avert their gaze as if coming marginally close to resting their eyes on maintenance workers will sully them.

Penny and her team are invisible.

It shouldn’t bother her. It makes traversing the streets of the city unchallenged that much easier. Still, an uncomfortable feeling settles in Penny’s gut. She remembers a time, long ago now, when she was treated like an object. A robotic toy with no mind of its own that simply did as instructed. One that could be flaunted like a trophy.

Maybe not today, because today she needs to be focused and covert, but one day, one day, Penny will make sure they see her. They really see her.

Atlas Academy rises above the rest of the city, a verifiable stronghold of sleek, ivory towers, unmarked by the dirt and grime of the world that sustains them. Originally, the academy was meant to be a symbol of brilliance at the heart of Atlas. The crowning jewel of the flying marvel itself. A declaration of all the greatness that Atlas encourages its people to aspire to.

To some, namely the heirs and heiresses of the wealthy elite who can afford to enroll them as students, the academy remains so.

Maybe once the less fortunate believed in the school, too. But then, the gates were closed to them. Access to the hallowed halls where so much knowledge lies in wait restricted, unless they first enlist and fight in Atlas’s war of conquest. After all, the wealthy elite fund the academy. Why should the mostly the poor of Mantle be given the same privileges, without offering something in return?

A small handful of such hopeful, would-be students lived through their tours of duty and were granted a place at the academy for their service. Many more did not.

Stories are told in Mantle, of the ones who don’t come back, and the hardships faced by the ones who do. Very few make the attempt anymore. Not that the General King needs them. Years have passed since he ordered the first unit of Atlesian Knights. The Atlesian Army is far more robotic than man these days.

Penny and her team stop in a forgotten library. Tomes of their kingdom’s history before Atlas rose sit in wait, gathering dust around them. Seeing these books makes Penny sad. Since joining the Rebellion, she’s met so many who would be eager to come here, read them, and learn from them. She doesn’t have much time to ruminate on the books, though. They’re only here for a brief stop, a final preparation before their move to infiltrate Watts’s laboratory.

Penny checks her connection to each of the daggers she has on her person and their battery charges. All of them, as expected, are primed and ready to go. The daggers are far smaller than the blades Penny uses as part of her main combat weaponry system, but far easier to conceal and faster to activate if the need should arise.

Penny thinks back to that last night with Ruby, and how her swords had been far away, on the other side of the room, useless, during the attack. She forged her daggers at the first opportunity she got after joining the Rebellion, and seldom takes them off her person. Never again will she be caught off guard without means to protect herself and the ones she loves.

Once everyone is ready, they set out for the laboratory.

Contrary to the mental image Penny created for herself, the building housing the laboratory of Arthur Watts looks like any other on the Atlas Academy campus. Penny knows this, has always known this in fact, but, since Ruby’s capture, she’s started to think of it as a darker, more sinister place, similar to the villains’ lairs she’s read about in storybooks. A looming castle-esque fortress with intimidating battlements and twisted gargoyles. Not a squat, clean, whitewashed building lording over an out-of-the-way courtyard.

They make their approach, careful not to let the security cameras capture a full view of their faces. Inside the building, there’s a small reception area with a front desk, which an automaton is stationed behind. They hand over their fake IDs, the robot makes an affirmative sort of noise and directs them to an elevator bay.

It’s when they’re riding down, waiting for their lift to finally arrive at their destination, that Penny truly begins to worry about the ease of it all. Sure, Watts’s lab has never had as much security as other sensitive locations at the Academy. The idea anyone would break into a place where, if they were caught, they’d be left at the scientific mercy of its master, has long been considered unbelievable. But, Penny doesn’t think it should be this easy either. They planned for so long, gathered so much intel. To just walk in, find Ruby, and get back out, it doesn’t feel right.

As the elevator dings its arrival at the laboratory level, Penny switches her daggers to ‘combat ready’ mode.

No one’s there when the doors open. No soldiers, robotic or otherwise. No lab techs or assistants. Not even Watts himself. No one prevents them from approaching the heavy steel double doors of the laboratory. Their loud, echoing footfalls go unheard.

Penny stops when she reaches the door. The others stand behind her, waiting for her to make the final decision. She stares at the doors’ gleaming handles, sucks in a sharp breath she doesn’t necessarily need, wraps a hand around the cool metal, and tugs the door open.

The laboratory, surprisingly, is in a state of utter and immaculate cleanliness. Penny blinks at the space, reseting her optical receptors to ensure they’re working correctly. She expected something grittier. Bloodstains splashed across surfaces. Pieces of horrific experiments left out to rot. Something to indicate the gruesomeness of what goes on here. But there’s nothing. It’s as if Watts simply packed everything up and neatly stored it away.

Well, almost everything.

At the very back of the laboratory, pushed against the wall is a throne-like seat. Given its location in such a place as the lab and its resemblance to the other stools scattered about, it wasn’t built to be of great importance. Someone had gone through the trouble of attaching a back and armrests to it, as well as acquiring thick, deep scarlet, velvet cushions for the person upon it to sit comfortably.

The only indication that that person doesn’t have the power most would assume belongs to someone in such a seat are the clasps firmly locking her wrists and ankles down. Her helplessness doesn’t seem to bother her. The person—a young, recognizable girl—doesn’t try to fight or break free of her bindings. She simply sits on her throne, with her eyes closed, her breathing slow and calm. Waiting. Like a puppet whose master has put its strings to rest for the time being.

Upon her head is a pitch black crown of mechanical spikes and thorns. It is this that Penny’s eyes go to as she approaches, and the blood red ruby precisely centered in it above its wearer’s forehead. The jewel could have been an amazing, priceless treasure, if not taken and used for such a horrid-looking device. Now it is naught more than a cruel mockery. Beauty taken and warped into something deeply unpleasant.

Penny reaches out. Her hand trembles as it closes the distance to Ruby’s cheek. She hesitates, gulps, and then allows her fingers to touch her beloved’s cool skin. The moment Penny makes contact, the spell holding her back breaks. She lets out a relieved, little laugh. She cups Ruby’s cheek fully in her hand and affectionately runs her thumb across it.

“I’m here,” Penny tells Ruby. “I came for you. I’m so sorry. I’m going to get you out of here.” She reaches for the clasps keeping Ruby in place. Before she can touch them, Ruby lifts her head up and away from Penny’s touch. Slowly, almost mechanically, Ruby opens her eyes.

The denial Penny has been able to drown herself in these few, precious moments dissipates completely. She looks into Ruby’s eyes. Rather than the friendly, loving silver she knows so well, bloody crimson irises in a sea of charcoal black gaze back out uncomprehending at her.

“Ruby?” Penny’s voice wavers. She barely manages to keep it from breaking completely.

#rwby #nuts and dolts #ruby rose #penny polendina #whirls writing

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criticalrolo · 4 years

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Some more worldbuilding...

After explaining how the planes work in my last post, I wanted to do a write-up of the Gods in my homebrew setting Asterion. I’ve also included a sample of how I’ve gone about designing individual religions for one of the gods :)

ETHRYS' PANTHEON (THE OLD GODS)

Sovereign of the Gods/Justice/Time - Ionid

God of the Earth - Gelion

Goddess of the Skies - Cielara

God/dess of Death/Fate - Onthys

Goddess of Light/Life/Civilization - Elowen

The original pantheon of Gods created by Ethrys was made up of five individuals: Ionid, Gelion, Cielara, Onthys, and Elowen. These gods presided over the most fundamental aspects of space and time. Of the five, Ionid was elected the Sovereign of the Gods as they oversaw the flow of time through the planes and enabled the rest of the Gods to care for their domains.

In between the time of Ethrys' Sealing and the creation of the Astral Plane, Elowen and Onthys walked among the planes, sewing the rips and tears of reality back together where they found them. From these spots of condensed, healed chaos, the first humans, elves, dwarves, and other beings came into existence. Elowen loved these new beings dearly, and worked with Gelion and Cielara to make the planes beautiful for them to enjoy. When Gelion saw the beings, his tears of joy and delight splashed down and created the first oceans. Cielara created the sun and the moon so that the new beings would always be able to behold the glorious domains of the Gods. Elowen poured her sparks of light and life into the new creations, giving them the ability to create and think and love as the Gods did.

The more beings Elowen created, the more Ionid and Onthys grew concerned about the precarious balance of nature that Ethrys had sealed herself away for. Because of this, Onthys tied their strings of fate to the sparks of Life Cielara had given the new beings, and attached them to their loom. These shining threads became the first Souls. The new beings were then joined into the cycle of life that the other living beings followed, beginning with birth and ending with death, to maintain the balance of existence.

THE NEW GODS

God of Knowledge/Magic - Thaldorn

Goddess of Strength/War - Kivan God of Home/Artisans - Hipoar

Goddess of Luck/Trickery - Tiva

With the creation of living Souls came the creation of new Deities, born from the minds that Elowen gave them. There were dozens of these new Gods created. Just as the Souls were able to adapt and change, these gods partially created themselves, taking on their own aspects and domains. Some only lasted for a generation before they were forgotten and faded away, while others attained powers nearly equal to those of Ethrys' Pantheon. Some of these more powerful gods included Thaldorn, Kivan, Hipoar, and Tiva. These more powerful gods could encompass multiple aspects and persisted longer than some of the smaller, more specific domain gods. For example, a city's local god and Thaldorn could both preside over Roads, Thaldorn in general and the city's god along their own streets.

There was tension among Ethrys' Pantheon and the New Gods, especially in regards to which group encompassed the truly superior Gods. The Old believed that the New were too unpredictable and unbalanced, and that they should not be seen as parallel in power to the Old as they had not been directly created by Ethrys. The New believed that the Old were denying the innovation and creation that Ethrys had stood for by holding the New below them. This schism was present on the Mortal Planes as well, with each God's followers arguing for their own superiority. Tensions became even worse after the arrival of Oknus' Pantheon and the sacrifice required for the creation of the Astral Plane, which made the Old dependent on their followers for power much like the New.

Elowen was the first deity to decide that the fighting had gone on long enough, and started to compromise with the New on behalf of the Old in order to unify all the good and neutral aligned deities against Oknus' Pantheon. This unification effort made her a symbol of Civilization among the Souls, as a bridge between the old world and the new. Begrudgingly, the Gods agreed to tentatively put their differences aside in order to focus on protecting their domains against the more important threats from the lower planes.

Religion

Onthys Our Lady the White Wolf, Our Lord the Black Wolf, The Shepherd of Souls, The Fate Weaver Onthys is one of the original gods created by Ethrys before her Sealing. They were created as a counterpart to Ionid, the Sovereign of Time, as a means to create a direction for the flow of time. They also balanced Elowen, the Goddess of Life, to act as a shepherd for the souls from the Prime Material Plane to the next world.

Depictions of Onthys vary by different cultures, and they are typically presented as a man, a woman, or another non-binary gender according to different accounts. They are referred to by any pronouns. • Domains: Death, Fate, Balance • Clerics: Death, Grave, Life, Twilight, Blood, Unity, Nature

Colors and Symbols Depictions of Onthys typically show them wearing a mask made of a ram skull and carrying a tall black crook. Onthys' holy symbol is a black shepherd's crook inside a white circle. Wolves, dogs, and rams are all sacred animals to them. Unbroken, perfect circles are also considered sacred to Onthys, as well as looms, crooks, and the color black.

Rituals, Holidays, and Festivals • Veil's Day: This is a holy day when followers will visit cemeteries and gravesites, following the paths in and out as their souls will do someday as they join Onthys' Flock. They typically wear black veils, to represent their eventual separation from the mortal world, and will fast for twenty four hours, beginning at midnight. This holy day occurs on the first full moon of winter. • The Fated Feast: At the end of the harvest season, followers will take three full days to prepare an enormous feast celebrating the renewed cycle of life and death that has allowed them to prosper for another year. If possible, they will weave themselves a new article of clothing. This is also a day of remembrance for the people that passed in the year since the last Fated Feast, and it is believed that Onthys will allow these souls to visit the celebration on this day.

Tenets • To deny fate is to deny existence and reality. • The designs of fate that guide our lives are a gift from the Gods and an opportunity to learn and grow. • Death is as natural and vital as life -- the undead are an abomination. • If it is fate for someone to be healed, then they will be healed. If it is fate for someone to die, then they will die. Attempts to intercede in our Lord's fated shepherding of souls must be prevented at all costs.

Temple Clergy and Followers Onthys' most dedicated followers are referred to as her Flock. Local ministries are led by Denmothers and fathers, and the religion is headed by the Grey Wolves. Conversion efforts are not as prominent as in other religions, as Onthys' followers believe that everyone will join the Flock between life and death, but the church will send their followers known as Fatestrings to smaller territories in missionary efforts. The Flock typically gets along well with other followers of the Old Gods, but is hard pressed to trust the New Gods, especially followers of Tiva, the goddess of luck, who they believe disrespect the eternal nature of fate. They are sworn enemies of Oknus' evil Pantheon.

Artifacts and Sacred Items • The Staff of the Fate Weaver: A black wooden staff shaped like a shepherd's crook, supposedly carved from the first tree that withered in the first winter. It is inlaid with rows of small white diamonds and has a mother-of-pearl grip. This staff adds +1 to a spell caster's DC and has seven charges that are regained at dawn. Casting "Blindness/Deafness" costs one charge, casting "Life Transference" costs two charges, and casting "Circle of Death" costs four charges. • The White Wolf's Circlet: This delicate silver white circlet depicts the head of a wolf with inlaid sapphire eyes. When attuned, the wearer is immune to the fear condition and all fear-based attacks, as well as immune to forced movement effects.

Sects • The Northern Wolves: This splinter group is located in the far northern continent and believes that Death is the only true God that one can trust. They eschew all forms of healing and medical intervention, instead opting to put all their trust in Onthys' loom of fate to determine if someone lives or dies. They purposefully live in dire, survivalist conditions in order to be as close to their God as possible and will frequently fast for days or weeks on end to prove their devotion. These extremists live on a nearly completely carnivorous diet and will go on Hunts that they see as a form of sacrament. The most fanatical of these have even branched out into humanoids in some cases. • The Butcher Souls: Primarily an underground urban-based sect, these cultists revere Death as the most natural, desirable state of being, and believe it is their duty to return as many Souls to Onthys as possible. Their rituals involve some members drinking poison to bring themselves to the brink of death, while others comb the streets for unlucky passerby that are chosen as sacrifices to Onthys.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #world building #pantheon #idk i'm just organizing and saving my thoughts!#long post

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stevenuniversallyreviews · 5 years

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Episode 131: Off Colors

“And this is Lars. He’s all human.”

Forty-seven seconds is an eternity in an eleven-minute episode. Steven and the Stevens (the song) is forty-one. The final scene of Winter Forecast, my favorite in the series, is an even thirty. And when Pearl first poofs in Steven the Sword Fighter, it may take her several weeks in-universe to come back, but it’s only seventeen seconds until Amethyst and Garnet reveal that she’s okay.

Off Colors ends with Lars at his finest, bouncing around from friend to friend to save their lives from an alien drone, culminating in a brave, goofy rodeo show on the robotic menace. He comically yelps as the machine bucks and sprays lasers everywhere, then the baker who was once terrified of letting people try his food yells “Eat this!” as he deals the final blow, solidifying the cartoonish victory we’ve seen time and time again in action shows for kids. But then the drone explodes, and it kills him.

Laramie Barriga, the first person we ever see Steven speak with, the first human who’s ever named on the show, a depressed grouch that has resisted every opportunity to grow but can’t help growing anyway, who after countless false starts has finally seen his inner hero emerge, dies a sudden, violent death. And he remains dead for forty-seven seconds.

False deaths abound in Steven Universe, from Pearl’s aforementioned poofing to the Pink Diamond faking her own shattering. But none feel as visceral as Lars’s, because it isn’t false. He not only dies, but we see his lifeless body tumble to the ground like a rag doll, and must linger with him as the weight of his death settles in. The Off Colors are jubilant at their victory, and their cheers create the discordant atmosphere that so often accompanies death, the shock and confusion as life goes on even as another life ends. Steven is the only person on the planet who understands that humans don’t die the same way Gems do, and he doesn’t need to say a word as he grasps for signs of life and finds none.

According to interviews with the crew, there was some question over when the episode would end, and whether this death would be a cliffhanger. I’m so glad they went with this approach, and not because I think it would be too brutal for young viewers (I was raised on Don Bluth and The Lion King, kids can handle it); reviving him in the next episode would be a pacing nightmare, but reviving him here forces that uninterrupted wait, a moment that can’t be escaped by the episode ending and focusing on something else until the next one comes on. Plus, I’d imagine it helped with the censors to have him come back in the same scene, because I’ve never seen a children’s show portray death with this much physical realism; in the rare instance of a character dying on-screen, it’s always a dramatic affair with a final speech and a last gasp, but Lars is dead before he hits the floor.

The other reason Lars’s death stands out is that even if it’s temporary, it’s permanent. The rules of Steven’s inherited revival powers aren’t examined too deeply, but it’s clear that Lars is no longer mortal in the way he once was. He’s pink, with white hair. He barely has a heartbeat. If he’s anything like Lion, there’s a chance he’ll never age. This and more will be covered in Lars’s Head, but even now, it’s clear that the Lars we knew died on a cold and foreign world, and it’s another Lars that wakes up.

There’s obviously more to Off Colors than Lars’s death, considering the episode is named for the new set of characters that we spend most of our runtime meeting. But its very first line, after another stylish pan down from the title card, is “Lars, are you okay?” Much like The Good Lars appears to be a Lars episode but ends up being about Sadie, Off Colors appears to be an Off Colors episode but ends up being about Lars. Every moment he’s on screen is a reminder that he’s an alien on Homeworld, from his earthly need for food to his battle plans adopted from Jurassic Park to his vital lack of a gem. Even before he literally changes color, he fits right in with the misfits.

But let’s not cut the Off Colors short. It isn’t easy to introduce four distinct characters at once, so each gets a quirk to make them stand out fast. The Rutile Twins have two heads that paraphrase each other. Rhodonite fuses the nervousness we’ve seen from rubies and Pearl into a whole new level of perpetual fear. Fluorite speaks in the deep, slow voice of a six-Gem fusion. And, of course, Padparadscha has visions of the recent past, a running gag that I don’t predict I’ll ever get tired of.

Still, even in this first appearance, there’s more to this little family than their quirks. We meet the Rutiles first, voiced by Ashly Burch (one of the 2010s’ best new talents and the co-writer of my favorite latter-day Adventure Time episode, Hall of Egress), and despite a lifetime on the run their instinct is to help instead of hide. Rhodonite, voiced by Enuka Okuma (who like Padparadscha/Sapphire’s Erica Luttrell is a Canadian actress who started young and has steadily built up a considerable resume), doesn’t let her anxiety or societal pressure stop her from living as a fusion, which in a way makes her braver than the more confident Garnet. Fluorite, voiced by Kathy Fisher (primarily an EDM singer for the band Fisher) is proudly polyamorous and has a lot of grace for a giant caterpillar. Padparadscha, voiced by the aforementioned Luttrell...well, she pretty much is just her quirk, but she’s still a delight.

Given how many characters we meet and the amount of time we devote to Lars’s heroism and death, Off Colors can’t do much with its new characters besides introduce them. But the episode reveals their struggles not only with their words, but the setting they hid themselves in. Rather than spend any amount of time in the high tech environment of modern Homeworld (the place that reared the likes of Peridot and terrified Lapis Lazuli) we head straight to the ancient remains of perhaps the oldest Kindergarten in the universe, a massive chamber in a hollowed world without any more room to form new life.

Like Earth’s Prime Kindergarten, it’s a perfect place for horror, this time from a drone that’s so relentless that it kills one of our characters. The drone’s theme resembles the opening of the Love Like You reprise and Holly Blue Agate’s motif, adding another layer of looming alien danger to the atmosphere, and the machine itself has the vicious efficiency of Peridot’s old robonoids. The world is old, but the technology hunting the Off Colors down is new, lending the sense of an endless struggle that must be endured rather than overcome.

Life on Homeworld is dictated by doing what you were created to do, but it’s important to show that deviating from this path doesn’t lead to instant happiness. If Gems could break away from their oppression with ease, it wouldn’t be much of an oppressive state, so the Off Colors trade lives in constant servitude for lives in constant survival mode. It isn’t as if we needed more evidence that Gem society is a mess, but there’s power in personalizing how misfits are persecuted to this day, compared to how the Crystal Gems were able to form in the past. The struggles from back then remain the struggles of the present, and the only way to fix them is with an outside push. We won’t see that push until the end of the series proper, but are primed to understand the power of external changers from Blue Zircon’s own ability to stand outside of the story and punch holes in the narrative the characters took for granted. It’s no wonder that Steven is fated to do the same thing.

It’s refreshing to see Lars and Steven get along from the start, instead of going through the usual ornery motions until they reach the sense of understanding they had in Stuck Together. It makes sense that we’d cut to the chase in an episode with this much to do, but given how often Lars forgets his lessons, it’s a nice change of pace for his growth to stick.

Even more refreshing is Steven forgetting about his martyr complex for a moment as his own survival instincts take hold: we see him instead channel the leadership lesson he learned with Peridot in the drill, assuring Lars that everything will be okay even when it’s clear that he doesn’t believe it. This time it’s Lars who must deal the barriers he sets up for himself, railing against his own cowardice and needing Steven’s positivity in the same way Steven needed his negativity on the spaceship. When Lars shows signs of an imminent panic attack, Steven gives him the same hand to the heart we’ve seen in Lars and the Cool Kids and Lion 3 and tells him that it’s okay to be afraid, a line Lars repeats to psych himself up for his last stand.

Steven also forgets about Zircon’s big reveal, which initially seems like a negative. As viewers, we’re invested in learning the truth about Pink Diamond and are made to wait even longer to get more clues. But I see this as the beginning of a major step forward, because even though Steven is hardly over his issues with Rose, this is where he starts focusing on where his priorities should be: his life in the present, rather than his mother’s ancient past. In Off Colors and Lars’s Head it’s all about escaping Homeworld and helping Lars and his new friends, then it’s straight to the Breakup Arc, and both journeys recenter Steven in a way that lets him grow enough to reexamine Zircon’s information through fresher eyes.

And as complicated as his relationship with Rose has become, let’s not forget that this episode ends with the first instance of her healing tears emerging from her son. He’s had healing spit for ages, his own Steven-y take on his mom’s power, but he evokes her far more directly as he revives Lars with a method that solves a mystery we weren’t even thinking about as we entered Homeworld: the origin of Lion. But more on that next time.

For now, it’s enough to have a full-to-the-brim episode of new friends and tense drama, written and animated to punch you in the gut with a surprise death that feels no less powerful when it’s half-reversed. The Off Colors show us problems unique to Gems (Homeworld society, fusion stuff, malfunctioning psychic powers), and Lars shows us problems unique to humans (general physical frailty, from hunger to the inability to shrug off explosions), but both reach an understanding that makes their imminent team-up feel as natural as can be. Each of them lives in fear, and each of them learns that the only way to work past this fear is to accept it and work together to overcome it. I know that they can be strong in the real way, and they’re about to prove it.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

The streak of Love ‘em episodes holds strong. What seems to be a pure set-up episode is blown up by its shocker of an ending, and while it may lead to yet another cliffhanger, there’s a sense of completion as Lars goes from cowering mess to genuine hero.

Top Twenty-Five

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Steven’s Dream

When It Rains

The Good Lars

Catch and Release

Chille Tid

I Am My Mom

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

That Will Be All

The New Crystal Gems

Storm in the Room

Room for Ruby

Lion 4: Alternate Ending

Doug Out

Are You My Dad?

Stuck Together

The Trial

Off Colors

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Adventures in Light Distortion

Gem Heist

The Zoo

Rocknaldo

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

Tiger Philanthropist

No Thanks!

6. Horror Club 5. Fusion Cuisine 4. House Guest 3. Onion Gang 2. Sadie’s Song 1. Island Adventure

(Despite the header image looking very Sugary, there’s no official promo art; that lovely picture is actually from the wonderful ferryperson.)

#off colors #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

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jahaanofmenaphos · 4 years

Photo

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

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QUEST 11: SLISKE’S ENDGAME

QUEST SUMMARY:

The eclipse is nigh. The end of Sliske’s games draws near. All the gods gather for one final race for the Stone, taking them through a shadowy labyrinth of the devious Mahjarrat’s design. Not only does Jahaan have to survive the trials Sliske sets out for them, but he has to compete against every major deity in Gielinor. Then, and only then, will he have a shot at ending Sliske’s madness once and for all...

CHAPTER 1 - INTO THE ABYSS

Of all the people Seren thought she would have an audience with on that day, her brother was the last she expected, and certainly the last she wanted. But Zaros was insistent, and while every advisor around Seren urged her to turn him away, Seren sensed an importance in his visit that required her attention. If he was to reveal some small modicum of his plans to her, at least Seren could try and keep his intentions in check.

Zaros was a stain in the perfectly sculptured crystal palace. He was a blot of darkness, a symbol of corruption in an otherwise flawless city. For miles around, the icy white walls shone brilliantly in the sunlight, emerald roofs glowing and twinkling, sapphires shining from the windows. Zaros was a shadow, a vacuum of insincerity and manipulation that Seren spent her entire life trying to escape from. Now, with five days left until Sliske’s endgame, she allowed him into Prifddinas, a city he had been barred from visiting since he first stepped foot on Gielinor.

At the top of the Tower of Voices, the two siblings that were nearly as old as the universe itself conversed to the backdrop of chirping birds and the sound of distant harps.

Seren shook her head firmly. “After what you did... after what you made me do? How can I trust you?”

“You cannot,” Zaros admitted. “What you did… what I made you do, it is unforgivable. We are both damned by it. But it was a necessity. The only solution to the damage you had wrought.”

“She was our mother,” Seren’s voice cracked at the term, the wound as fresh as ever.

Zaros disagreed, “No. She was our creator. I know enough of my study of mortals to see the difference between the two. If they had been your elves, would you have even hesitated?”

“That's not fair…”

“Little is. We both know enough to be certain that the universe does not recognise fairness. Regardless, I come to you not in the hope of reconciliation, for I know that is not possible.”

Seren couldn’t help but laugh, a mirthless sound full of indignation. “No. It really isn't.”

“I come in the expectation that you recognise the danger here,” Zaros continued, “That we cannot stand in opposition. Not now, while there is too much at stake.”

Seren nodded, grimly. “The Catalyst. It cannot fall into their hands.”

“No. It would be catastrophic; the damage they could do. It could wake the elder gods prematurely.”

“But even if it did, perhaps that is the way of things,” Seren argued with despondent acceptance. “Perhaps it is Gielinor's destiny.”

“You do not believe in destiny any more than I, Seren,” Zaros countered. “You know that events must be guided, orchestrated; things happen because they are made to happen. Not because the universe has decreed it.”

“Perhaps,” Seren may disagree with Zaros’ methods, but some of his philosophy did align with hers, though she was reluctant to admit it. The divergence was that Zaros believed he should orchestrate everything. Seren believed him the last person who should be in charge of the destiny of others. “But I will not let you claim the Stone, Zaros.”

“As long as the Catalyst is out of the younger gods’ hands, that is all that matters,” Zaros affirmed, resolutely. “I do not intend to tear the world apart like they would. But our plan for the Stone is secondary - what is imperative is claiming it.”

“And how do you intend to go about that?” Seren queried, still wary. “Sliske has something planned during the eclipse. He is an unpredictable being, one that is difficult to plan against.”

“Sliske’s game is a formality,” Zaros stated. “He is foolish to deign to think he has any modicum of power or control over us. The agreement I made with Zamorak and the others will ensure the outcome sways in my favour, but only if I have your assistance, sister.”

Jahaan knew he needed allies, but despite being the World Guardian, they were few and far between. In fact, Jahaan could count all those he genuinely entrusted with his life on one hand.

Azzanadra wasn’t an option - he’d undoubtedly be standing beside Zaros, and understandably so. Wahisietel no doubt would refuse to even get involved in his brother’s twisted games. Ozan was-

Jahaan violently shook his head, forcing the man from his thoughts.

That only left one name that sprung to mind.

Short of dying and coming into contact with one of his avatars, Jahaan figured the best place to start looking for Icthlarin would be in his temple in Sophanem, Menaphos' sister city. Before Ozan had helped repair relations between the neighboring cities, legitimate migration was off limits. Fortunately, the bridge connecting the sister cities was open to the public once again.

Jahaan entered the back room of the temple to find Icthlarin and Death already in a heated discussion.

“Icthlarin, think about what you are suggesting,” Death implored, a pained weight in his glowing cyan eyes. “You do not have the powers the other gods possess. This is reckless! They could destroy you!”

“They could try,” Icthlarin countered. “Do you have such little faith in me?”

“In you I have the greatest faith. It is in them that my faith wavers. They cannot be trusted, and they will show no mercy.”

“And I would not expect them to, but this is a debate for another time. At present, we have a guest.”

Icthlarin and Death turned to the doorway to see Jahaan standing there, sheepishly. “Uhh… was I interrupting something?”

“Death is just concerned for me, my friend,” Icthlarin explained, a sad smile on his features. “He worries that I will not return from Sliske's game, but I must go regardless. It was I who brought Sliske and the Mahjarrat to Gielinor, a mistake that I must do everything I can to correct.”

Shaking his head clear of the cobwebs such memories brought forth, Icthlarin regarded Jahaan with a steady resolve. “Death and I have come to an agreement. Neither of us will seek the Stone for our own personal gain. We have no true need for it, and we cannot adequately protect it from all of the other gods. If we are to claim it, we shall find a way to keep it buried, away from all the gods, and Sliske, once and for all. Will you join us in this pledge?”

Smiling thinly, Jahaan nodded. He wanted nothing more than for the Stone to be buried for all eternity, and while that didn’t work so well the last time they tried it, hopefully with the help of an actual god they would stand a better chance of success.

The dark shape of the moon had stolen its way across the bright desert skies, capturing the brilliant clear cerulean and replacing it with thick, heavy purple, dripping through the skies like ink. The ominous atmosphere was suffocating, the tension of the impending event palpable.

As darkness overwhelmed the skies, Jahaan knew Sliske’s endgame had begun.

The meeting point was just east of Nardah, a small desert town north of Sophanem. Thanks to Icthlarin’s teleport, Jahaan didn’t have to face the magic carpet experience once again. Luckily, the desert was much cooler on this day, for he brought with him heavy armour and a rucksack full of provisions to prepare himself for the upcoming trials Sliske would no doubt unleash. Brushing some hair from his eyes with the back of his gloved hand, Jahaan and Icthlarin crossed the final distance to the meeting point.

As they did so, Jahaan wanted to get something off his chest while he still had the time. Before long, the game would begin, and they’d all be lost in the chase for the Stone. “Hey Icthlarin?” he began, quietly.

Curious by the odd tone, Icthlarin turned to him. “Yes, friend?”

“I’ve decided,” Jahaan began to smile now, content and wistful, determined and ready, akin to the faint flickers of fire in his eyes. “Let’s be honest, I’m probably not going to survive this. If I die, don’t take me to an afterlife. Get rid of my soul. I… I think I’ve done all I want to do here. It’ll also be one last way to piss Sliske off, knowing that I threw away the soul he wants so badly.” Jahaan forced himself to chuckle, but it was grim and hollow. He struggled, acutely aware now more than ever of his own mortality.

Icthlarin’s brow furrowed; he stopped walking. “Are you sure, Jahaan? You might not be in the best place to think clearly.”

“No, I’ve thought about this a lot,” Jahaan maintained, and it was the truth. Ever since Ozan… Jahaan realised he’d had his fill of life. He’d had so many adventures, lived so much, but all the good was behind him now. There was nothing to look forward to. Besides, he didn’t want to tie himself down to a deity in the afterlife. He was just… done. “I’ve made up my mind.”

Already at the meeting point were Marimbo and Brassica Prime, two deities whose absence had, in all honesty, gone pretty much unnoticed in the past years of Sliske's games. Even at the original meeting at the Empyrean Citadel, they'd refused to attend, finding such affairs tedious and not worth their time. Jahaan wondered why they'd finally decided to show up now, of all times. Have they been playing possum all along? Do they really have a plan to get the Stone?

Once he realised what he'd just considered, Jahaan broke out into a chuckle. And your winner is… a drunk monkey and a divine cabbage…

To break him out of the amusing thought he was lost in, the air crackled, energy and light reacting against each other as a crash of white lightning teleported Armadyl and a handful of his aviansie warriors into the area. Soon afterwards, a blue sphere faded into view, and once it disappeared, Saradomin had arrived, flanked by a band of imposing White Knights and Commander Zilyana. The blue-skinned god smiled wryly at his bird-like counterpart.

“Ah, Armadyl. I should have guessed you would be one of the most eager to arrive.”

“I merely see no point in being 'fashionably late'. We all want this over with as quickly as possible,” Armadyl countered, giving a friendly nod of greeting to Marimbo, Jahaan and Icthlarin.

A quick pulse of green energy teleported Death next to Icthlarin. “Are you certain about this, Icthlarin?” he checked, voice low, but apparently loud enough for Saradomin to hear.

Saradomin clucked his tongue in disapproval. “Yes, Icthlarin, should you really be here? Don't you have duties to attend to? You must know the Stone will never be yours.”

“Do not pretend to comprehend my duties Saradomin,” Icthlarin replied. “Your attention only focuses inwards. I serve a greater purpose.”

“What arrogance! You dare pretend to know my will?”

During this, Seren, Zaros and their respective entourages teleported into the fray - Seren with her elves, and Zaros with Azzanadra and Char. Seren arrived in a wisp of blue particles, while Zaros came in a storm of purple energy.

In an attempt to calm their tensions, Armadyl stepped forward, his arms stretched between them in a gesture of peace. “Gentlemen please, there is a time and a place for this argument once the Stone has been claimed.”

At that moment, Zamorak teleported in from a sphere of red energy, followed by Hazeel, Moia and Lord Daquarius.

Eyes narrowed, Armadyl added, “On second thought, if we must channel our anger somewhere, I believe the perfect target has just arrived.”

“Try it,” Zamorak spat, rounding on the winged deity. “It's been so long since I've had the pleasure of watching an avianse burn.”

“I'LL KILL YOU!”

“Yes! Armadyl, together we can destroy him once and for all!” Saradomin cheered, his followers’ hands reaching for their weapons in preparation.

“And give Sliske exactly what he wants?” Seren pointed out. “He wants us to fight. He wants to turn this into the next God Wars.”

“To destroy each other now would serve no purpose except for Sliske's amusement,” Zaros concurred. “Calm yourselves and be rational.”

“Zamorak needs to pay for his crimes!” Armadyl maintained, his voice dripping with bitter hatred.

Then, a mysterious voice floated around them. “Yes… Armadyl. He should pay. Strike him down now. Kill him. Vengeance could so easily be yours…”

Easily, Zamorak clocked the voice’s origin. “Fuck off with your baiting, Sliske. Show yourself and get this over with.”

“Oh well, if you insist…”

From black lightning, Sliske teleported into the area, his arms waving outwards in a grand gesture of welcome, though with a cockiness only he could attempt to pull off.

Instantly, Jahaan felt his throat go dry, the air being sucked right out of him in the presence of Sliske. Eyes flashed with cinders; he wanted to be sick. He wanted to take out his dagger and slash that cruel smile off his face once and for all. He wanted to run, take off into the desert and never look back, but he felt a gravity pulling him down, a weight fusing his feet to the sand beneath him. Jahaan wanted to look at Icthlarin for reassurance, at anyone or anything to distract him from Sliske’s pull.

Sliske’s canary-coloured irises shone out of the dark recess of his hood, attaching themselves to Jahaan’s emerald eyes. It was fleeting, but Jahaan could have sworn he saw a slight upturn of Sliske’s lip, a cruel yet sincere smile meant only for him. Swiftly, it was replaced by the mask of manic joviality he used to greet the rest of the crowd. “Welcome, welcome! Oh, it's so very good to see you all here. Well, to be honest, I rather hoped to see a few less of you, but we’ll make of the situation what we can. Now, before we get onto the main event, please, a round of applause for those of you who actually followed the brief and killed a god. You know, as you were meant to.”

He gestured towards Armadyl, his smug, sing-song voice carrying his words. “Armadyl, a round of applause to you. You were the first to really embrace this game. The way you decapitated Bandos… exquisite! Bravo, bravo!”

“I didn't do it for your game, Sliske,” Armadyl growled in response.

“Oh no, of course not. You murdered a god for peace, love, justice, blah, blah, blah…”

Then, his expression darkened severely as he turned to Seren. “You, dear, dear Seren. You had the greatest kill of them all, didn't you? Matricide. You took the life of your very own mother… our mother, Mah, who dreamed us all into existence. Part of me hates you for that. Odd isn't it? That I should care, that her death should matter in the slightest? And yet the sting is there. That slight knot in my stomach, that dull pain in my chest... I mean, bravo! You have done what so few others have achieved…” his eyes traced the crowd, finally settling upon Jahaan as he finished, “You... hurt me.”

Seren took a deep, extended exhale. “You can stop this madness, Sliske. Call off this game. Let this end.”

Sliske laughed, a bitter cackle. “And ruin everyone's fun? How could I do such a thing? I made a bargain, and one must stick to their bargains.”

Stepping forward, Zamorak sneered, “I’m not much of a team player, but what’s to stop us all setting aside our differences and making toothpicks out of your ribcage?”

At this, Sliske let out a hearty laugh. “I suppose nothing, except for the fact you’ll never find the Stone without me. And that’s why we’re all here, isn’t it? Ah, except we're not all here. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce our latest contestants... the dragonkin!”

From the darkened skies, a fierce cry pierced through the tense air, with the swooping of heavy wings to follow it. The sound grew louder, nearer, until three dragonkin descended to the ground, the earth shaking as their sharp talons embedded into the dirt.

Eyes wide, Saradomin demanded, “What madness is this?!”

“So this is your grand plan? To attack us all with dragonkin… again?” Armadyl chided, adopting a subtly defensive pose as he regarded the newly arrived dragonkin.

“Come now, don't be so rude to our guests. Kerapac here has shown nothing but the absolute pinnacle of good manners. The dragonkin have every right to be here. After all, the Stone of Jas is sort of their forte.”

“This is outrageous,” Saradomin maintained. “I will not stand for this!”

Sliske called his bluff. “Then leave. No one is forcing you to be here. All of you are free to leave. If you don't want the Stone then you can just totter off home and be free of this… indignity.”

Predictably, Saradomin remained quiet.

“Anyone? No? I didn't think so. So let's cut this bluster right now shall we? None of you are going to leave, so-”

“I am,” Brassica Prime, the cabbage god, cut in with defiance and confidence in its low, bellowing tone. “What need has the mighty Brassica Prime for such shiny baubles? Does deliciousness itself not flow through these very leaves? Am I not nutrition incarnate? The Cabbage of a Thousand Truths is like a carrot on a hook, dangling over the cooking pot. You boil yourselves alive to reach it only to find that it is withered and tasteless, leaving only bitter regret on your pallet.”

Marimbo, god of monkeys, spoke up, “Yeah… what leafy said. All this fighting and backstabbing, there's so much more we could be doing instead. You keep your stupid stone, I'm going to go and play more amusing games.”

With that, the two of them teleported away.

Sliske could only stand there in bafflement. “Well, okay… that was… right,” he shook his head, trying to regain his train of thought. “Well, none of the rest of you are going anywhere I assume. So let's discuss what is going to happen next. Below you sits the aptly named ‘Heart of Gielinor’. A focus for the vast anima mundi of this remarkable planet. From its walls I have carved a great labyrinth. To whomever gets through the labyrinth the fastest I will gift the Stone of Jas. A simple concept, but it will become oh so much more...”

Jahaan didn’t like the delivish turn in Sliske’s tone. It spelled trouble.

“Now, we’ve got a lot of strong contenders here - and Icthlarin - so it really is anyone’s game,” Sliske continued, “But I do hope one of the more interesting gods takes the prize. My money’s on Zamorak - think of the chaos you could cause, brother!”

Zamorak jumped to the bait. “Yes, immense chaos! Why not skip the formalities and just give me the Stone now. Save this little game for another time.”

“Nice try, Zammy. But I worked all week on this maze and you’re going to damn well play. Now, there is a big glowing orb in the labyrinth. That’s your initial goal. The first person to reach it gets to deal a significant blow to a contestant of their choice. Be the first through the portal and I will grant you the power to eject the entourage of any god! That's right, they will have to traverse the rest of the labyrinth alone, making them much more vulnerable to, oh I don’t know, perhaps an adversary with a grudge wanting to settle some old scores. Also, thanks to their past accolades in godslaying, Armadyl and Seren have earned themselves a little head start. But don’t let that discourage the rest of you. And with that, let the game begin! Ready… set... GO!”

Not wasting any time, Jahaan rushed into the portal Sliske created, entering the maze. Luckily, he didn’t fall from too great a height and managed to catch himself quite nimbly with a break fall, avoiding injury. For now, at least. Looking around, he was dismayed to see he had been separated from Icthlarin, hoping he’d find him soon so he didn’t have to traverse the maze alone.

The walls surrounding him were an impenetrable dark grey stone composed of jagged rock, towering about fifteen feet above Jahaan, with a murky grey mist forming some sort of translucent ceiling. Blindly, he started to hurry down the long corridors, hoping for a sign, a hint, anything that suggested he might be going in the right direction. However, wherever he went, the identical walls stretched away from him as far as the eye could see. In his peripheral vision, Jahaan noticed what looked like the head of a statue, so he went towards it, pleading in vain that it would be the first step to conquering the labyrinth. Just as he approached it, however, the eyes began to glow, and the booming, slick voice of Sliske echoed throughout the vast chasm.

“Oh… just one more thing. Those with divine natures may be feeling a little... odd... right about now. That’s because I have removed your divine nature from you. In short, I have brought you all down to the same level. Each of you is now no more powerful than the lowliest of World Guardians. It should be a novel experience for you. But enough of this idle chatter. There is a Stone waiting to be claimed. Go get it.”

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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#runescape #sliske's endgame

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 4 years

Text

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 16

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle. It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes. With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays. Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3 | Masterlist

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Saturday (the Gala)

“You know, I find it a little funny you’re doing more pampering in anticipation of tonight than you did before the wedding last week,” Clara noted out of nowhere.

Rose’s brow furrowed for only a moment, quickly relaxing before the makeup artist working on her could comment. “Are you joking? I’ve spent the last year of my life planning the Gala. This is a big deal. Of course I’ve got to be at my best.”

“More than your wedding?”

Keeping her eyes closed, Rose reached out an arm and swatted in Clara’s general direction. “Yes. I’ve got 300 guests tonight, including the Mayor- Malcolm implied on the way home the Prime Minister might even show up. Last week was thirty people.” It was hard to believe she’d already been married for a week; eight days, technically, but who was counting? Eight down, one thousand eight hundred eighteen to go. The thought was nauseating.

“I’m sure it will all go perfectly, you’re a natural at all this hosting. Every year is better than the one before.”

“Gee, thanks, no pressure.”

“You’re done, ma’am,” the hairstylist murmured, touching her shoulder briefly; Rose opened her eyes to see an entirely different woman from the one who had sat down two hours earlier. Hair and makeup done, jewelry in place, nails freshly varnished, she felt like a million bucks. How could anyone resist me looking like this?

After a week of thinking about it, going back and forth a dozen times, she’d decided this was the night to take her shot – if everything went well, and the mood was right when they returned to the townhouse, Rose was going to do everything in her power to seduce Malcolm.

If she didn’t lose her nerve.

“Thank you, Moira,” she said belatedly, standing carefully and moving towards the privacy screen where one of Moira’s army of assistants waited to help her into her dress. Undoing her robe, Rose only felt mildly uncomfortable standing in just her knickers as the woman helped her into the dress, one forearm across her breasts for privacy as long as she could – given the dress’s back, a bra was out of the question.

Or rather, the lack of back to the dress. Crimson red, it covered her entire front to compensate for being entirely backless. Clinging to her like a second skin, it was red lace over a nude-tone background, almost sheer in the right lighting. Starting at her shoulders and going straight across her clavicles, it went down to her wrists and ankles, leaving nary an inch of skin bare. A thin white belt at her hips gave her some definition. In contrast, the entirety of her back was uncovered, and she could already almost feel the warmth of Malcolm’s palm on her skin. It made her feel sexy and confident, and capable of seducing anyone – but she had eyes for only one man.

“Wow,” Clara breathed when she stepped out, ready to go. “You look incredible, like you’re straight off a runway or red carpet.”

“Thanks, so do you,” Rose grinned, taking in her friend’s equally elegant gown. Hers was a blue and white floral pattern, with a crisp white bateau neckline that showed off her shoulders. Full sleeves buttoned at her wrist, and it had a split in the middle from the hemline to the knee, letting her knees peek out when she moved. “I love that shade of blue.”

“Thanks,” Clara shifted, turning her back to the mirror and glancing over her shoulder for inspection. “Remember that sapphire necklace Dad gave me for my thirtieth? I’ve been saving it just to wear tonight, and I wanted to make sure the dress went with it.”

“It does, you look lovely,” Rose promised. “And, I think we’re ready- just in time,” she said, as the clock struck six. “It’s a minor miracle.”

“Rose! Clara! Time to go!” Malcolm shouted from somewhere in the distance, likely the entryway, and the two women shared a knowing grin.

Gathering their accessories, and with profuse thanks to the Glam Squad, as Malcolm called them, they hurried off to meet their carriage – they had a Ball to attend.

Rose let Clara go down the stairs first, waiting a good thirty seconds to let her friend have her chance to shine before following. In the deepest, darkest, still-sixteen corners of her heart, she wanted that Hollywood moment, where she came down the stairs in a beautiful dress and the boy she liked was so moved by her appearance he confessed his undying love.

A girl could dream.

She’d be willing to accept making Malcolm pause; she could hear him speaking, chattering away to Clara and Danny, who had also gotten ready at the townhouse.

Taking a deep breath she stepped carefully, making her way down and into the hallway. His back was to her, gesturing wildly as he spoke, and she caught Danny’s eye first. His gaze widened, and he sharply elbowed Malcolm, who turned to look.

And froze.

Eyes going wide his jaw dropped slightly, words drying up mid-sentence as if they’d never existed. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just looked at her, wonder and surprise in his eye.

It was everything she’d hoped for.

“Do I look okay?” she teased softly, walking up to him and touching his arm gently, seemingly sparking him back to life.

“You look… spectacular,” he murmured, voice dropping as if the words were only for her. “Incredible, unbelievable, goddess-like… Would you like me to go on?”

Rose smiled, blushing slightly. “Only if it’s genuine.”

He tentatively wrapped an arm around her waist, stepping closer into her personal space and lowering his voice further. “How about… sensational? Breathtaking? Stunning?”

“Well, if you say so,” she laughed softly, leaning into him. His cologne was strong, and it was doing delicious things to her insides. “Thank you. You look rather dashing yourself.” Unable to not touch him any longer she smoothed one finger along his bowtie, tweaking it. “Like James Bond.”

“Connery, I hope.”

“The accent certainly implies it.”

A cough from the doorway broke the spell, and Rose glanced over to find Clara and Danny waiting there, ready to leave. “Ready?” Clara’s amused expression faded, face flashing through several expressions before settling on curious. “Limo’s here.”

“Let’s go,” Malcolm agreed, a reluctant tone in his voice that Rose wished meant he’d rather sweep her into his arms and carry her off to bed. “The Gala awaits.” He kept his arm around Rose’s waist, guiding her out to the waiting limo that way, and her heart fluttered, unable to keep from hoping.

Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t the only one with expectations of how the evening would end.

Clara and Danny climbed into the limo first, Rose and Malcolm waiting patiently as they maneuvered getting her inside.

“You do look wonderful,” Malcolm murmured, sliding his hand back to center and then up. His eyebrows ticked upward when he hit flesh, and she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling as his eyebrows and hand rose in unison. “What-”

Letting her grin fly free, she took a step away and turned, so he could see the back. “What do you think?”

“Oh fuck me.”

She laughed, turning back to his gobsmacked expression. Oh, I will, mate. “Mhmm, tempting, but I’ve got this event to go to,” she teased, jerking one thumb in the direction of the limo, while smoothing down one of his lapels with the other hand. “Raincheck?”

“Oi!” came from the limo, ending the moment.

Malcolm’s slightly glassy expression faded into an annoyed eye roll at his daughter’s timing. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

She let him help her into the limo, all the while smirking to herself.

Game, set, match.

As soon as they arrived at the Cutty Sark and made their way along the short red carpet inside, Malcolm grabbed the first drink he could from the passing butlers. Downing the champagne in one go, he watched as Rose headed across the room to the site’s event planner to check in.

He’d never seen so much of her back on display before, except in a bathing suit – and always surrounded by family. But this was a professional, formal event, a week after their wedding, and she was… heart-stopping. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, could still feel the soft, smooth skin beneath his palm. Never in his life, at least to his memory, had he ever been so attracted to someone, so easily set on fire. It had been a long time since he’d been so distracted, having thrown his life into his work.

And, impossibly, it almost seemed as if Rose wanted him as well. ‘Tempting’? ‘Raincheck’? And what’s with the fuck-me dress?! Never mind her comment on Monday about her ‘talented mouth’! That alone had been responsible for half of his insomnia over the last week.

“Malcolm?”

Head jerking up as he realized he’d been staring at the floor lost in his thoughts, he barely kept back a groan. Why does her father only appear when I’m thinking about her naked? It was like the man had a sixth sense. Distantly, he realized his own daughter would be laughing her ass off if she knew his thoughts. “Pete, Jackie, thank you for coming.”

“Everything looks lovely, Malcolm,” Jackie gushed, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Where’s my daughter?”

“Over there,” he pointed, spotting her standing with the Jacksons near the bar. “You look wonderful, Jackie.”

“Thank you, dear.” Her brow furrowed as she stared at her daughter. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“Sorry?”

“Her dress? There’s no back.” Narrowed blue eyes focused on him, and he gulped.

“I dunno, I had nothing to do with her dress,” he said, truthfully enough. “I only saw it for the first time getting in the limo.”

Jackie’s knowing gaze said she didn’t believe him, and Malcolm bit back a sigh. She still didn’t know about the arrangement, and was probably thinking it was something to do with their relationship.

Sure enough- “We all know you’re newlyweds, she doesn’t need to advertise via her dress what’s happening after this is over,” Jackie huffed, making Pete choke on his whisky. “I’ll be having a word with her.”

“I think she looks lovely, dear, and she’s a grown- and married- woman. She can choose her own fashion,” Pete said patiently, catching Malcolm’s eye and jerking his head slightly. “Isn’t that Barbara what’s-her-name over there?”

“Oooh, it is, and isn’t that a horrible dress? I ought to go say hello.”

Malcolm slipped away while she was distracted, making his way over to Rose.

It would be an interesting night, to say the least.

“You’re going to do it, aren’t you?”

Rose yelped, startled, and turned to face Clara. “What?”

Thankfully, her friend waited until the Jacksons were out of earshot to continue. “Da- Antonio. You’re going to take my advice, aren’t you?”

“I’m thinking about,” Rose demurred, scanning the space and pinpointing Malcolm’s location – he was on the other side of the room, talking to guests. “Why?”

“I can tell – you’ve got that predatory look on your face every time you look at him. That, and that dress. Look at you! I didn’t see the back earlier, but… holy fuck, Rose, if that doesn’t scream ‘seductress’ I dunno what does!”

Rose blushed, but didn’t flinch. “Good. I don’t want him to have any question about if it’s a result of too much champagne – if it happens, I mean. It may not.”

“You’re afraid,” Clara understood, nodding. “You’re worried about taking the chance.”

“What if he rejects me?” She dropped her voice, stepping closer, worried about being overheard. She double checked that Malcolm hadn’t moved; she didn’t want him sneaking up on them in the midst of such a conversation. “We’re going to be living and working together for the next five years… That’s an awfully long time to spend in close proximity with someone who doesn’t want you the way you do them, and has turned you down. If I did. Not saying I do.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Stop being coy, at least with me – I know that you do. And, trust me, he does too – I promise.”

“Even if that’s true, that doesn’t mean he’d say yes.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Rose gave her an exasperated glance. “He’s a friend of my father’s, I’m a friend of yours. If it didn’t work… the consequences are…” She drifted off, trying to picture it. “It would ruin everything. I can’t do this, it’s not worth the risk.”

“What? No! I mean, yes! You can! You have to. I can’t sit around any longer and watch you make goo-goo eyes at each other,” Clara said firmly, grabbing Rose’s elbow. “Don’t overthink it, just feel. Look, if nothing else, maybe you can Stockholm-Syndrome him into loving you? Though I’m pretty sure he’s… pretty much there.”

She was too upset at how many ways it could go wrong to bear that a second’s thought. “I have to go play hostess. Um… thanks.”

Lower lip trembling she walked away, ignoring Clara’s hissed calling of her name behind her.

What on Earth made me think this could actually work?

#bbatcfic #ficandchips #Doctor Who #doctorroseprompts #Human!12xRose #Human!Twelfth Doctor #Rose Tyler #Human AU #AU #The Nuptial Necessity

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nighttimepixels · 5 years

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what are the ladies styles of flirting,,, like who normally flirts and teases playfully all the time but then gets more serious about it when they realize they have a crush? who is more subtle doing small things in the background hoping you'll notice in your own time and come to them,,, and who treats you like some kind of rival someone to trade quips with and raised eyebrows and cheeky smiles before theyre like oh my god ive been flirtin this whole time,,,,,

Stars help me, why do your asks always have to be so excellent! Alright, I’ve been sitting on this so heck yeah I’ll bite ✧(ô▿ô )

Serif: casual flirting - so casual you won't even realize it for the longest time, honestly - her friendship always includes a lowkey teasing/flirting style that becomes the norm, so it backfires a bit when she actually wants to make that impression on someone, woops. She'll just kind of inch up the sincerity a bit and hope you'll catch on sooner or later - she's in no rush, after all, not as long as you're still at her side as her friend, even if she's just itching to close that last bit of distance...

Vellum: Compliments! So many compliments, oh stars help you. She's already effusively complimentary as a friend, but there's something extra sincere and heart-skippingly sweet when she's flirting with you through them. She'll make eye contact, lean that little bit closer, and stars, you're blinded by that million-watt smile. How can you resist?

Sapphire: A deadly combo of sincere words and teasing, Sapphire's outright dangerous when she truly turns her charm on. She's another lowkey friendly flirter, but when you find yourself the focus of her actually flirting, you find yourself very suddenly aware of just how wrong you were. There's no way you can keep from flustering at least a little when she's truly flirting with you. She's got an impeccable way with words and a sincerity that hits you right in the doki-dokis ;D

Amber: Flirts with teasing for sure, but also compounds it with flirty touch. A graze of the hand over your arm, an arm slipped around your shoulders, pulling you gently to stand in front of her at a crowded event so you can get the prime viewing spot over the balcony railing while she frames your back... you'll have a hard time with this one, to be sure, but a very good time too ;)

Crimson: Oh stars above, Queen of Flirting right here. Flirting's as easy as breathing for her - and if she really means it, she doesn't back down. It'd be easy to think you could write it off as just more of Crimson Being Crimson™, but... if that switch has flipped in her, and she realizes she's truly serious about you? She's not only gonna flirt, but she's gonna be upfront about it. The first night you truly question or push back, claiming she's just teasing you, you'll likely find yourself kabedon'd... her face hovering so close, and in that fluid accent of hers, husky and warm, she'll tell you she's dead serious when it comes to you, cariña...

Scarlet: Ahhh here she is, the first contender for Rival Flirting. Even if you've already been friends, she'll absolutely start... challenging you to things. Cooking competitions, dance offs, first to convince the others of a movie for movie night, first to kiss each other- wait, no!! she meant!!! to... tooo..... miss... each other? A traveling competition! Yes. For... a day. A day trip. That's what she meant.

*coughs* she'll get her game together eventually though, really - besides the excuses to be in close, high-adrenaline settings leading up to this... one of these days something's gonna happen, and you're going to find yourself in her arms unexpected as she's caught you from falling, and... something deeply romantic is going to spill from her. Oh man, woops, she's actually a natural romantic, she's just... lacking practice >v>

Pepper: Rival Flirting, part two! Only Pepper's maybe a little more... deliberate ;)c you'll find yourself getting... self-defense lessons, as well as a curiously even more active Pepper who happens to protect you from things you don't even notice. But in your new self-defense classes with her, you'll find her egging you on more and more as time passes, and touches that are surely just instructional, and yet - there, your shirt's pushed up a little, and you swear you feel her phalanges linger for a moment - but then they're gone... or there, where she's caught your wrist and twisted you around, now your back is to her chest and your breath's coming a bit too heavy- cheeky smiles and quips come more and more as the atmosphere continues to grow tighter with every session~

Cinnamon: A natural flirt, to be sure - she's great at the wooing, great at the flirting and flattering... but when she actually falls for you? Well, she's the most romantic flirter from the get go. It comes so naturally from her - what is she, a reborn Cyrano de Bergerac?? But you can't even doubt her sincerity. She's extraordinarily eloquent... so long as you haven't caught her off guard with an unexpected sincere flirtation first ;)

Blade: another subtle type.... usually. There's a lot of casual things that you just... don't even notice, really? Not consciously, at least. But things ramp up - physical touch, slowly but surely, especially - you don't even realize it until it's missing, probably some night where there's a larger group and she's more on edge for something. She'll likely wait for you mostly... unless you happen to push one of her buttons just right, in which case... stars help you, she's up close and personal, and if you need it, certainly willing to tell you just what you do to her...

Twist: Surprisingly sly as a flirter, actually! She's high on the quip list, cheekily grinning and waggling a brow as she looks towards your general direction. She's got a hell of a wit, in fact, and she, uh, might not realize immediately she is treating you differently. When she does, though, she's going to have an entirely freakout for a minute, before deciding, well, yes, this one right here she's mine, so! flirting continues, increasingly so ;Dc

Alpha: Sassy and witty, she's a total charmer to the umpteenth degree. Flexible, too - sometimes the flirting will be subtle, you may or may not catch it - but be certain she's watching very closely to see how much you reciprocate... if at all >v>;;;; Other times, her flirting is purposefully very clear, and she has a bit of a thing for getting a reaction out of you, admittedly. In a good way, of course - and stars, when she turns her full charm on, stars help you resist because let's be real, you probably won't want to ;)c

Glyph: Easygoing and flirts as naturally as breathing. Her touch is a big thing for her, as is her music; she'll absolutely pull the 'singing her song in a crowded room but making eye contact directly with you' trope. Most of all though, you know her flirting's serious when she pulls you aside or takes you on some adventure with her, and you find yourself breathing heavy after finding shelter from a storm or pursuing calls after a little questionable trespassing - pressed up against her with her finger pressed to your lips to signal you to be quiet... she'll do something as simple as wink, then lean in- and kiss the other side of her finger, just a breath shy of your lips. The moment'll hold... and then you're on the move again, laughter bright as the flirting transitions just as smoothly into more of a wild ride of a night under the stars with her ;)c

#night answers #lilytale asks #flirting #flirting styles #heck yes flirting time #my wlw butt is weak for this sort of thing heck yeah #I always have to stop myself physically from rambling for several paragraphs each #i'd never finish if i did XD #hope this much is acceptable and enjoyable though >:)c #thighsofthistle

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whitecrossgirl · 5 years

Text

Incriminating

AN: A massive thank you to everyone for their awesome feedback on the first part of this story; if you missed it; here’s a link to it: https://whitecrossgirl.tumblr.com/post/186099974328/why-dont-you-do-right This is just a follow up because I haven’t planned a full AU but I hope you like it. Special mention to @sassbewitchedmyass for her support for the original fic and for letting me bounce stupid ideas off her.

Brienne knew this would happen. She had recognised Tyrion the moment she spotted him on the stage. It looked like Daenerys had surpassed even herself this time. She was so convinced that Brienne was trying to lure Jaime away from Three Dragons or that she would force him to leave by breaking his heart; that she had planted the idea of her and Tormund’s affair. Brienne knew it had been happening; when she visited Jaime at work she could feel the stares and whispers. She had had a lifetime of people staring and whispering about her; it was partly why she created Sapphire. Sapphire was the persona who took those whispers and jibes and rumours and turned them into something she could use and make herself stronger. But this, hiring a detective to find what wasn’t there, was something that she needed to warn Tormund about.

They weren’t having an affair, she adored her husband and Tormund was actually in a committed relationship with Jon Snow. Their frequent meet ups and lucrative shopping trips and meals out were actually covers for Tormund’s plans to propose to Jon. Brienne was the only one he could trust with the secret; Jaime was too much of a gossip and there were too many people in their worlds who would turn any new information about any of them into a way to get more money, fame and power. Tonight he was going to show her the ring he had bought and they were to finalise the plan for his proposal.

Brienne estimated that they would have three minutes from when Tyrion would try to sneak backstage before trying the window. Riverrun had some of the best security and more than once, although she could protect herself, security had been needed to stop a man from sneaking backstage. It was a downside of Sapphire’s seductive personality. Some fancied themselves in love with her and tried to win her heart. Still, no one managed to get past Sandor yet and indeed, as Tormund entered her dressing room, she could hear his gruff voice at the end of the corridor.

Quickly, Brienne put on some music and turned to Tormund, whispering into his ear. “We’re going to be watched, play along.”

Tormund nodded, he has suspected as much when he had spotted the little Lannister detective. He didn’t get why some of these Southeners couldn’t just believe a man and woman could be friends. Besides, she had her lion. He had his wolf. They were both happy with their lot but if they had to play this game to protect Jaime and Jon then they would. “Then sit on my lap, act like I’m Jaime.”

“Only if you act like I’m Jon,” Brienne retorted as she took a seat on his knee and he began to play with her hair. They could hear a small clang of a hand hitting a dustbin lid. Showtime.

Although Tyrion couldn’t hear them through the glass window, he could see everything before him. Tyrion primed his camera and took the first incriminating show. Brienne was sitting on Tormund’s lap, his hand was in her hair until she took his hand and used it to cup her face. The second shot, Tyrion took as Brienne moved as if about to kiss him. Just as he took that photo, Tormund pulled away and seemed to be speaking earnestly to her; now holding her hands and resting them over his heart. That was the third shot, the two of them looking into each other’s eyes as their hands rested on his heart. Before he could take another picture, Tyrion was distracted by a sound at the end of the alleyway. Tyrion looked away from the window to see two drunks getting into an argument and by the time he looked back, he froze, stunned at what he had seen.

Even if all the other shots could be dismissed as two close friends in a conversation; this image couldn’t. Despite everything, his heart broke for Jaime as he prepped his camera and took the shot.

“He’s still there,” Brienne mouthed after a sneaked glance at the window, spotting Tyrion’s turned away head. Tormund thought for a second before he gestured for Brienne to stand.

“There’s one more thing we can do, remember how we did stage kisses as kids?” Tormund asked and Brienne nodded. It was a trick they learnt when they had been at school together, two outcasts within the drama club. The trick was to cross their left hands at the wrist, holding them close to the chin. They would suck their own thumb and wrap their free arm around the other, hiding the hands and their close faces gave the illusion for kissing. As they got into position, Tormund glanced at the window and saw Tyrion’s head turning.

“He’s looking,” Tormund whispered as he lowered his head. To anyone looking, they looked like two passionate lovers entwined together, which was unfortunately what they were aiming for. They held that position until they heard Sandor’s voice, calling from outside now, clearly yelling at Tyrion. As they stepped back, Brienne buried her face in her hands; even though she knew it wasn’t real, that she and Tormund hadn’t done anything wrong, that it was a set up; she still felt like she had betrayed Jaime.

And that was enough to break her heart.

“We’ll have to be honest with them. Tell them before someone else does.” Tormund said and Brienne nodded. Jaime had been due to work late tonight; rehearsals for the newest Roger Rabbit cartoons. She just hoped that she could speak to him before Tyrion or Daenerys did.

Jaime Lannister wasn’t impressed. The rehearsals were due to have finished over an hour ago but it seemed like nothing they did was making Daenerys happy this evening. No matter how many takes they did, no matter how many tones and pitches and re-recordings they did, she wasn’t satisfied in the slightest. And he wasn’t the only one impressed. Even Missandei, Daenerys’ closest friend and his co-star was beginning to get annoyed with the constant cuts and re-dos. Add to it, he had planned on surprising Brienne at Riverrun tonight. He hadn’t seen her perform as Sapphire in what felt like forever. Now it was too late as her performance time was over an hour ago.

Jaime was broken from his train of thought as Jorah, Daenerys’ head of security walked in and whispered something in her ear. Immediately, Jaime noticed a shift in her demeanour and she turned to them. “We’ll leave it there for this evening. Go home. Rest and perform better tomorrow.”

None of them were foolish enough to grumble in her presence but Jaime wondered if his expression spoke for him as Daenerys turned her focus onto him and him alone. “Jaime, I need to speak with you in my office.”

“What for?” Jaime asked. He knew he was damn good at his job and he put his heart and soul into playing Roger Rabbit. Despite the serious, action-based, romantic hero characters he had played; there was something special about being Roger Rabbit; being a character who brought joy and laughter to kids across Westeros. Whatever bone Daenerys had to pick with him, he knew it would do nothing but worsen his already dire mood.

“You’ll see,” Daenerys replied as she led him towards her office. As they walked in, Jaime was stunned by the sight of his younger brother standing in front of Daenerys’s desk. The years hadn’t been kind to Tyrion; there were deep lines around his eyes and his beard was unkempt; the loss of his friend had clearly hit him hard, but it didn’t explain why he was looking at Jaime with something akin to pity in his eyes as he handed some pages to Daenerys who leaved through them, shaking her head.

“What’s going on?” Jaime asked. Something was wrong; his estranged detective brother and now his tough-as-nails boss were both looking at him with pity.

“You need to see these,” Tyrion said as Daenerys handed the sheets to Jaime. Only they weren’t sheets of paper, they were photographs.

“What is this?” Jaime asked sharply as he glanced at the photographs. Then he looked again more intently and he shook his head in disbelief. “No! No! No! No! No! These aren’t real! Brienne… My Brienne would never... I don’t believe it!”

“Believe it Jaime, I saw it with my own eyes. She was flirting with him in Riverrun, even tried it with me before he went backstage with her. They were all over each other.” Tyrion explained as Jaime flicked through the photos over and over again, willing them to change. But they didn’t.

Brienne on Tormund’s lap.

Tormund cupping her face.

Brienne and Tormund speaking intently to one another.

Brienne and Tormund kissing each other passionately like the world was ending…

Like… Like…

Like how she kissed Jaime.

“No! These aren’t real! You don’t know her Tyrion! You have no right to come storming back into my life and accusing the woman I live, my wife, of this! If you knew her, you would know she would never do this to me. Especially not with Giantsbane! It’s a set up, a ruse! She wouldn’t! She never! She’s innocent!” Jaime yelled as Tyrion took the photos from his hands and slammed the one of the kiss onto the table.

“She’s not Jaime! She’s been playing you for a fool and you are a fool if you believe her!” Tyrion argued but Jaime let his anger take over. He tried to remember the simple fact that Tormund was with Jon Snow. But Tormund had always been open about his bisexuality and he would flirt with Brienne all the time. He said it was a joke but even if he acted on those feelings; Brienne was the most loving, loyal, kind hearted woman in the world. She would have never done this.

“No! She wouldn’t do this. We’re in love. We’re married. We, we want to have children! She would never do this to me.” Jaime denied furiously, tears in his eyes as he looked at the photos and his heart shattered into pieces. “Whatever this is, I’ll find out the truth for myself but my wife is innocent and if you dare imply that she is anything but honourable and true, then I don’t care that you’re my brother, I’ll kill you myself.”

With that, Jaime snatched up the photos and stormed out of the room. Tyrion watched him go and turned to Daenerys, handing back the money she gave him. “Keep it. Hope it was worth it.”

Jaime sat in the alleyway behind the studio, slumped on the ground with his head buried in his hand, his body racked with sobs as he wept bitterly. Jaime looked through the photos and crumpled them up, throwing them far down the alley as he wiped his face and stood up. He was going to find Giantsbane and get the truth from him. Either he and Brienne were pretending or he forced her into that situation for those photos to be taken. Regardless, Jaime was getting the truth from him, one way or the other.

As Jaime stormed off, he didn’t notice the figure clad in black who had been watching him from the other end of the alley. He didn’t see the figure walk forward and pick up the crumpled photos with a gloved black hand. He didn’t see the smirk that played on her lips as she followed him; finding the perfect catalyst for her plan. She would destroy Jaime’s life. Like he destroyed hers.

The next morning, Tyrion woke up to a dry mouth, a splitting headache and vague flashes of Brienne singing, Jamie yelling and at least a bottle and a half of scotch on an empty stomach. As Tyrion went to splash water on his face; he turned on the radio and froze at the sound of the headline.

“Breaking News: Tormund Giantsbane, Deputy CEO at White Wall Studios was murdered late last night. His body was found in his office and both witnesses and security report that beloved actor Jaime Lannister, famous for voicing the character Roger Rabbit, was seen fleeing the scene, moments after gunshots were fired. Lannister is now on the run and police are advising witnesses to come forward. Lannister is believed to be armed and dangerous and any sightings should be reported to police. Again, our breaking news headline is the murder of Tormund Giantsbane. Prime suspect Jaime Lannister is on the run, armed and extremely dangerous.”

“Shit.” Tyrion whispered to himself. This just got a whole lot worse.

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