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Entered my first attempt at jewellery making to my second Queen's King's Prize Tournament! I didn't do as well at last year's, having won the Queen's Choice, but I came away with new connections, resources, and ideas!
What I entered was a 10th century Volga Rus Dukach based on grave descriptions! I found vintage Portuguese Escudo for the coins, and the various supplies I used came from Fire Mountain Gems. My source book I used was Iuliia Stepanova's book, The Burial Dress of the Rus' in the Upper Volga Region (Late 10th-13th Centuries)
#rus#early rus#volga#upper volga#viking#viking reenactment#rus viking#jewellery#jewellery making#necklace#coin necklace#10th century#10th century reenactment#medieval reenactment#early medieval#sca#my sca#society for creative anachronism#scablr
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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼- 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 3
Part 3! We finally get to Wars, Sky, and Wind! WIND IS PLATONIC ONLY DON'T BE GROSS
Warnings: possible suggestive themes (AGAIN NOT FOR WIND), angst, mental health topics, scars/wounds
⋆。°✩
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖗𝖘
21-22 years old, one of the captain's of the Hylian Army. Zelda offered him a higher rank (general I'm assuming) and a position on the Hylian Council, but he refused almost right away.
Pretty tall, an inch above Twilight, but still shorter than Time
Blonde hair, shaggy but in a fashionable way. Idk y'all, he makes it work
Leaner muscle, double pierced lobes, wears chain linked earrings when at fromal events but usually sticks to his signature blue hoops
Can't read Hylian that well, but can understand/speak several languages, such as Twili (Twi is kinda jealous)
The strategist of the group. He was always under a time limit during the war, so he knows how to handle a tricky situation quickly and efficiently most of the time
Went to school in his developmental years, though was recruited at around 14-15 because he was way better in the fighting field than in academics. It worked out for him though, so he's not complaining.
As much as he cares about appearance and fighting for his country, he hates balls/formal events. The fake interactions and smiles make him sweat and he usually leaves an hour into them. He'll suck it up if you're there with him though
Closest to Time, Wild and Legend ironically enough. Wild and himself can relate on the aspect of being in the Hylian army, and they typically talk about how their experience was. Legend and him mostly bicker, but its all fun n' games. Time and Wars are essentially the higher-ups, though nobody actually says that, its just been silently established.
Super wary of Y/n, especially with his expriences with other dimensions and eras. He was honestly convinced you were part of Cia's plan or the shadow, since your timing seemed a little convenient, but you've gained his trust little by little, maybe a little too much.
Unlike his usual demeanor with women, he doesn't outwardly flirt with our protagonist. Yes, he throws a few quips here and there when appropriate, but he respects Y/n. He doesn't see them as everyone else. He has them on a pedestal towering over everyone
Has scars from the war, duh. He was mostly up close in the front lines, so a lot of slashes and nicks. Has a pretty bad burn on his left arm from Volga's fire, it's healed but still pretty scarred on his skin.
𝖘𝖐𝖞
20-21 years old, the "Chosen One".
Average height, light freckles across his face and shoulders, he was living right under the sun, you can't tell me he doesn't have freckles!!
Also... sleeper build. I said it. He has a sleeper build and boy when Y/n first sees him shirtless?? AWOOGA-
I headcanon him as having a gigantic triforce insignia tattoo all over his upper back. It was part of his ceremonial return, more on that later.
Suprisingly very school smart for falling asleep in class all the time. Sun was and still is very jealous of his natural smarts.
Has his lobes pierced, wears small red hoops. He wants to get more stacked piercings, a loftwing feather to match with Y/n in the future, who knows?
Doesn't have the biggest sweetest tooth, but he does love pastires of almost any kind. Pumpkin ones are his favorites, though Y/n's cinnamon rolls are quickly climbing up the ladder.
One of the most conflicted about Hylia and the whole "following the goddess" thing. He s=has insomnia because of it, causes him a lot of anxiety.
He was very depressed after his journey was finished, as he didn't identify as anything else besides a hero, and since his purpose was completed, he was nobody.
Struggled a lot with isolation and self-deprecation right up until joining the Chain. He still struggles with it, despite it being years later.
After meeting you and learning about your similar struggles of identity and burden's of mental health, he felt so much less lonely. Sure the Chain were his brothers and they knew what he had been through, you really understood him. You went through the same thing, you knew what it felt like.
Close to Hyrule and Four, but probably most attached to Y/n, even before the romantic feelings set in. He's got a big heart.
Biggest sleepyhead. Will sleep almost anywhere, especially if he's exhausted.
Hobbies include woodworking and playing his harp, but recently took up making a piece of jewelry for Y/n. He's been working on it for months, adventuring prevents him from working on it too long. He wants to give it to you during the winter festival, when you're all his.
𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖉
little shit
...
I would say I'm kidding, but he is :3
around 13 I wanna say, it's only been about a year since his adventure.
Short, duh, but his growth spurt is kicking in. He's catching up to Y/n, and you are not excited to be the shortest in a few years.
Sandy blonde hair, a bit wavy. Somehow always has a tiny bit of sand in it, no matter how many times he washes his hair.
If you think Twi or Hyrule had the biggest sweet tooth? HELL NO
If Wind ever found out about energy drinks or soda/pop, we're done for
Not the best in terms of speaking and reading Hylian, though being a pirate has helped him develop his own colorful vocabulary
Very skilled with up close combat, though the others hardly ever let him be on the front offensive
Similar to Wild, likes taking pics of anything (mostly weird faces that the others make)
Y/n and him clicked INSTANTLY. He might've not trusted them immediately, but they were best friends super fast. Wind has helped you get through homesickness by tellng you his own stories about his home.
"Captain" of Tetra's ship, or that's what he believes
Everyone knows Tetra's in charge though
Struggles a bit with alcoholism, being a pirate and all kinda leads you to be reliant on alcohol. The boys are trying to help him with it, but its the main coping skills he uses when after a high stress situation or he's feeling lost mentally.
Everyone sees him as a little brother, despite how much of a little shit he is >:3c
#yandere linked universe#yandere linked universe x reader#linked universe x reader#linked universe au#final promise au#linked universe headcanons
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CIA Agent Nathanial Ford
Agent Nathanial Ford, a master of disguise at the CIA, sat at his meticulously organized workbench, surrounded by an array of tools and materials: silicone molds, fine human hair, a palette of skin tone pigments, and dental caps. His latest mission required him to infiltrate a high-stakes criminal syndicate in Moscow, Russia—a role that demanded not just linguistic fluency but an entire physical transformation to match.
The assignment was to pose as Dimitri Ivanov, a mid-level operator within the syndicate known for his dealings in illicit arms. Nathanial's task was to gather intelligence on the syndicate's connections with corrupt government officials. To become Dimitri, Nathanial would need to master not just the Russian language, but also the specific Moscow dialect, characterized by its sharp intonations and swift, clipping pace.
First, he focused on the facial hair. Years ago, Nathanial had undergone a beard transplant to enhance his ability to grow thick, authentic facial hair. For this role, he needed Dimitri’s signature look: a dense, well-groomed beard that was slightly graying at the edges. He began with a testosterone regimen weeks prior, ensuring his natural beard matched the density and style needed, then dyed it to achieve the perfect salt-and-pepper effect.
To achieve Dimitri’s receding hairline, Nathanial underwent a temporary hairline modification using a technique involving electrical follicle manipulation. This non-invasive procedure adjusted the growth patterns of his hair to mimic a receding hairline, creating a natural appearance without the need for prosthetics like a bald cap. He carefully blended his natural hair with additional strands that matched the texture and color of Dimitri’s hair, ensuring a seamless appearance.
Next, he prepared the ear and teeth prosthetics. Dimitri had distinctly large, lobed ears—a feature that could draw attention if not replicated accurately. Using silicone molds, Nathanial crafted oversized ear prosthetics that attached with special adhesive strong enough to integrate with his skin for extended periods. The teeth were another critical aspect; Dimitri had a noticeable gold cap on one of his upper molars. Nathanial created a set of dental caps, including the gold one, which could be worn comfortably for days and would withstand detailed scrutiny.
Adjusting his height was the next step. Nathanial was naturally 5'10", but Dimitri was known to be a slightly imposing 6'1". Using specially crafted shoe lifts that fit inside his boots, Nathanial managed an additional three inches without compromising his ability to walk naturally. This adjustment required Nathanial to practice Dimitri’s walk, which was a confident, slightly lumbering gait that suggested years of physical labor.
Once the prosthetics were ready, Nathanial applied them himself and tested them extensively to ensure they remained securely attached to his body. Sometimes, the prosthetics were worn for so long that his skin began to integrate with them, a testament to their durability and his commitment to the role.
The final touches involved accessories that would round out Dimitri’s persona: a vintage Soviet watch, a worn leather wallet containing family photos and membership cards to various local establishments, and a set of keys to a nondescript, slightly rusty Volga sedan.
As Nathanial reviewed his transformation in the mirror, fully morphed into Dimitri Ivanov, he practiced his dialect again, ensuring every inflection and nuance was just right. The reflection showed not a CIA agent, but a Moscow native, ready to delve deep into the dangerous underbelly of Russia's criminal world. His preparation complete, Nathanial was ready to step into a life that was not his own, armed with nothing but his wits and his impeccable disguise
#bodyswap#transformation kink#body possession#body transformation#male body swap#skin suit#body swap#undercover agent#disguise transformation#spies in disguise
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Got any IAU fics in-progress about Warriors?
Yup, a few! For this one I decided Warriors had to get his burn scar somehow in this au, sooooo...
A loud noise had her and Loftwing startle, and they both moved to defensive positions in front of Cryonis, Ethereal gripping her weapons while Loftwing spread his wings out in a threatening display.
A figure appeared from the shadows, and Ethereal tensed, but Loftwing drooped in relief as the figure quickly strode forward, armor shining in the light.
Fierce Deity.
Cryonis’s breath hitched again, and Fierce Deity quickly kneeled by his side, his eyes seeming to flash.
“What happened?” he asked, voice harsh, and Ethereal swallowed.
Fierce Deity was not a hero to anger.
“Cryonis fought Volga to a standstill,” Loftwing explained, voice quiet. “They were blasting their powers at each other, and we couldn’t get close enough to help, but then Volga got the upper hand and he...”
Cryonis let out a weak moan, and Ethereal could see Loftwing further pale.
“...he did that,” he finished in a whisper.
#answers from the floor#anon#incredibles au#wip#wip Wednesday#Ethereal: oh man he’s so intimidating oh gosh—#Time inwardly: WHAT DO I DO WHAT DO I DO#wars is fine obviously but he has a rough time of it for a bit there
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The Vikings who attacked the Byzantine capital in the summer of 860 were hardly unknown to Photius and his contemporaries. The patriarch called them Rus’, like the members of the Rus’ embassy of 838. He even stated that they were subjects of Byzantium but left it to subsequent generations of scholars to figure out the details. Who were they? The search for an answer has spanned the last two and a half centuries, if not longer. Most scholars today believe that the word “Rus” has Scandinavian roots. Byzantine authors, who wrote in Greek, most probably borrowed it from the Slavs, who in turn borrowed it from the Finns, who used the term “Ruotsi” to denote the Swedes – in Swedish, the word meant “men who row.” And row they did. First across the Baltic Sea into the Gulf of Finland, then on through Lakes Ladoga, Ilmen, and Beloozero to the upper reaches of the Volga – the river that later became an embodiment of Russia and at the time formed an essential part of the Saracen (Muslim) route to the Caspian Sea and the Arab lands.
The Rus’ Vikings, a conglomerate of Norwegian, Swedish, and probably Finnish Norsemen, first came to eastern Europe mainly as traders, not conquerors, as there was little to pillage in the forests of the region. The real treasures lay in the Middle East, beyond the lands through which they needed only the right of passage. But judging by what we know about the Rus’ Vikings, they never thought of trade and war – or, rather, trade and violence – as incompatible. After all, they had to defend themselves en route, since the local tribes did not welcome their presence. And the trade in which they engaged involves coercion, for they dealt not only in forest products – furs and honey – but also in slaves. To obtain them, the Vikings had to establish some kind of control over the local tribes and collect as tribute products that they could ship along the Saracen route. They exchanged these in the Caspian markets for Arab silver dirhams, troves of which subsequent archaeologists have discovered. They punctuate the Viking trade route from Scandinavia to the Caspian Sea.
Serhii Plokhy, The Gates of Europe: A History of Ukraine
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...
I am begging you, please stop using Himaruya's creation as "canon". We have history for this.
The reason why Ukrainians and Belaruthians usually don't say anything is because we are really damn tired of explaining the most obvious to us things over and over. Unfortunately, if we don't do that, there will be more and more people who genuinely believe in things like on this screen.
"Muscovy, on the other hand, grew out of the share of Yuri Dolgorukiy - "Suzdal Valley", or the Volodymyr-Suzdal Principality , located in the basin of the Oka River , the upper reaches of the Volga and its tributaries - Sheksna and Kostroma . The main cities of the Suzdal Forest were Suzdal , Rostov , and Vladimir . The earliest inhabitants of this region were the Finno-Ugric tribes, some of which were later conquered by the boyars of Dolgorukiy Long-armed"
"The ancient history of the Scandinavians often mentions two Finnish countries, free and independent: Kyrialandia, which stretched from the Gulf of Finland to the White Sea and included modern M. Karamzin Olonetska and part of the Arkhangelsk province, and Biarmia, which covered the space from the Northern Dvina and the White Sea to the Pechora River".
"That Moscow is a Finnish word and that the future capital of Great Russia was, using colonization terms, a “fortified trading post” in the Finnish country, everyone knows this, as well as the fact that the surroundings of Moscow were extremely densely populated even in prehistoric times, so depict the emergence of this city how the settlement by "cultural Slavs" of a completely wild place is possible only by ignoring everyone, again, well-known archaeological data. - Pokrovskiy M.N. "The emergence of the Muscovite state and the "Great Russian nationality"— historical science and class struggle. Historiographic essays, critical articles, and notes." Edition 1. [archived on 11 December 2019 at the wayback machine]/ Pokrovsky M. N.— M.—L.: Sotsekgiz, 1933— P. 267—284.
It's a russian source that they most likely used for exusing the attempt to occupy Finland in 1939-1940 . Finland has nothing to do with russia.
"Ukrainian historian N. D. Polonska-Vasylenko claimed that "In the territory remote from the centre of the state of Ukrainians - Kyivan Rus' - on the basis of not only a non-Ukrainian, but even a non-Slavic people in the 12th century - the foundations of the state organization were laid, which slowly began to assume not only a leading role in the history of Ukraine, but also to claim its historical heritage and even the name Rus, although it had no rights to that heritage or to the name Russia" . This is what the Russian historian Vasyl Klyuchevskiy wrote about the ancestors of the Russians (so-called "Great Russians"): "The first separate principalities into which, starting from the 12th century, Kyivan Rus was divided, were also not ethnically homogeneous. In the northeast of Russia, as a result of the subjugation of the Finnish tribes, a new ethnic group was formed, which in the 19th century was called the Great Russians"
"During the 11th and 14th centuries, a huge state populated by numerous non-Slavic ethnic groups arose in the northwest around the territory of the Novgorod lands. The inner circle of Finno-speaking tribes in the north — Karels, Votyaks, Izhorts (Ingras) and Veps — was governed directly from Novgorod, the outer circle was subject to weak indirect tribute authority. Finno-speaking Lapps in the Far North and further in the northeast also Finno-speaking Zyryans and Permians, Ugromov Ostyaks and Voguls, as well as Samoyeds belonged here."
"The emergence of Muscovy in the second half of the 13th century was facilitated by Mengu-Timur, Feodora Sartakivna, and Peter Ordynskyi. The 16-year-old son of Alexander Nevsky became the first prince of Moscow." - Alexander Nevsky, just another occupier who wasn't loved by people of Novgorod at all and became "Saint" in russia XV century, when a great historiographical myth about this prince began to take shape.
Prince Alexander really succeeded in intrigues against his own brothers and neighbouring princes. "Andriy Yaroslavovych (brother of Alexander. - V.B.), becoming the Prince of Volodymyr (Grand Duke. - V.B.), concluded an alliance with the strong prince of Southern Rus (Kyivan Rus; with such tricks they try to convince us that there was another Rus - V.B.) Danylo Romanovych Halytsky, marrying his daughter, and trying to conduct politics independent of the Golden Horde. But in 1252, Batyi organized military actions against Andriy and Danylo. Against the Galician prince, Batyi sent an army of Kuremsa, which did not succeed, and against Andrii - an army under the command of Nevryuy, which ravaged the outskirts of Pereyaslavl. In the same year, even before Nevryu's campaign (pay special attention to this fact! - V.B.), Alexander went to Batyi, received a label for the Volodymyr Grand Duchy, and after returning settled in Volodymyr. From 1252 until his death in 1263, Alexander (Nevsky. - V.B.) was the Grand Duke of Volodymyr." / "Batkivshchyna" magazine #11, 1993, p. 29./
"...it was Alexander's collaborationism towards the Mongols, his betrayal of the brothers Andriy and Yaroslav in 1252, that caused the Golden Horde to establish a yoke in Rus." / "Batkivshchyna" magazine No. 11, 1993, p. 30./
"The population of the Moscow principality grew rapidly due to the flow of colonizers: the southern, from the lands of Vyatichi and the Kyiv region, and the western, from the Polatsk, Novgorod, and Smalensk lands, as well as immigrants from Western Tartary. The incoming population mixed with the Finnish tribes - Meri and Muroma - who had long lived in these lands." Alberto Campenze, in a letter to Pope Clement VII around 1523-1534, wrote about the Moscow principality (Moscovia) that it was inhabited by various peoples: Yugras, Karelians, Pechorans, Vogulychis, Cheremis
In 1493, Ivan III independently added to his grand ducal domain a prefix - "all of Rus," which was not found in the Moscow princes in older documents and was not recognized by other monarchs.
"In all this [built by Ivan III] - in church and secular buildings, in the names and dedications of churches, in inscriptions or chronicles about the construction - there is almost no hint or even allusion of Kyiv's heritage. The temples, with some details of the Italian Renaissance, are generally modelled after Russian Upper Volga cities such as Vladimir and Suzdal, but not Kyiv. There is neither the Tithe Church, nor Borysoglibska, nor even St. Sophia (as in Novgorod and Polatsk) - despite the fact that Ivan's second wife, who obviously put a lot of effort into creating a new image of the capital, was named Sophia (Zoya). As for the gates of the Moscow Kremlin, not only were none of them named after the famous Kyiv gates (especially the Golden Gate), but the inscription on the main one was not written in Cyrillic, but in Latin! A hundred years later, Boris Godunov, in accordance with his grandiose plan to renew the capital, partially rebuilt the Kremlin and added a bell tower, and again, the same striking absence of Kyiv reminiscences. These people have never even thought about Kyiv." - Edward Keenan. Russian historical myths [Archived August 9, 2019 at the Wayback Machine]. Kyiv: "Krytyka", 2001.— 284 p.— P. 8-9
"The rise of Muscovy began under the vassalage of Ivan III, who conquered, either by force or by agreements, the lands surrounding the Muscovite principality: the largest trade center, Veliky Novgorod, was taken thanks to a crusade organized in alliance with the Tatars, the main slogan of which was: "force Novgorodians to appoint archbishops in Moscow" (the Novgorodians sent ambassadors to the canonical Metropolitan of Kyiv to consecrate an archbishop for them), as well as the principalities of Tver, Rostov, Yaroslavl and Ryazan."
"His policy was continued by his son Vasyl III (1505-1533) and grandson Ivan IV the Terrible (1533-1584), and later by representatives of the Godunov dynasty (descendants of the Chetov princes of the Golden Horde)."
British historian Norman Davis in his own work "Europe. History" describes the process of the appearance of the ethnonym "Russia" in Muscovy:
Muscovite princes rose from darkness to shining heights within two centuries after the Mongol invasion.
First, by combining conquest and bribery, they brought under their control numerous principalities of the Rurikovichs around the Volodymyr-Suzdal land. In 1364, they appropriated the hereditary title of Grand Dukes of Volodymyr.
Secondly, enjoying the favor of the khan of the Golden Horde, the Moscow princes received a label that gave them the right to be the main collector of tribute for the Tatars, they were responsible for the payments and debts of the rest of the princes. Ivan I (ruled 1325-1340), known as Kalita, spent most of his reign not in Moscow, but on the way to Sarai.
Third, by generously endowing the Orthodox Church, the Moscow princes added an aura of piety to their political power. In 1300, the Metropolitan of Kyiv moved his seat (residence) from Kyiv to Volodymyr nad Klyazma, and in 1308 to Moscow. Monasteries founded in forest forests were new centers of trade and territorial expansion.
Muscovites gained strength but were still vassals [of the Golden Horde]. It was at that time that Muscovites began to call their state by the Greek word "Russia," which meant "Rus," and called themselves Russians. These Muscovites never owned Kyiv, but the lack of grounds did not prevent them from considering Moscow the only legal heir to Kyiv lands. It was their speech that became the basis of the modern Russian language.
"Another strange and still unnoticed manifestation of the interruption of tradition or historical amnesia can be seen from the names that the Moscow nobility gave to their children. It is worth talking about the importance of this act for any culture, its symbolic meaning, cultural conditioning, and subjection to fashion. Historical sources from the time of Ivan the Terrible have preserved the names of thousands of men from the upper class. In terms of uniformity, they did not differ from names in other societies. The ten most common names covered 70% of the people, and the rest were rare. The most popular were the names of the rulers of the Moscow dynasty — Ivan (20%) and Vasiliy (10%). Nothing unexpected. What is really surprising if you adhere to traditional ideas about this culture is the almost complete absence of specifically Kyivan names. Among the almost three thousand names in the digit books of Ivan's time, there are no Igors, Svyatoslavs, Mstislavs, less than 1% of the Volodymyr and only three of Gleb. The Moscow courtier of Ivan's time would rather be called Temir or Bulgak than Volodymyr, Gleb or Vsevolod". - Edward Keenan. Russian historical myths. Kyiv: "Krytyka", 2001. — 284 p. — p. 9
The very fact that Russia, having received its name no earlier than the 18th century, claimed the historical heritage of Russia, created seven hundred years earlier, gave Karl Marx the reason to assert in his work "Exposure of the Diplomatic History of the 18th Century":
«The bloody mire of Mongolian slavery, not the rude glory of the Norman epoch, forms the cradle of Muscovy, and modern Russia is but a metamorphosis of Muscovy».
At the same time, the names "Russia" and "Russian" of Greek origin "literate people began to introduce into the book language" from the 16th century. - Historical grammar of the Russian language, compiled by Ө. Буслаевымъ. Fifth edition. Etymology.— M., 1881.— P. 5.
#hetalia#hws ukraine#aph ukraine#hws belarus#aph belarus#tw: hws aph russia#WE ARE NOT FUCKING SIBLINGS#LEARN HISTORY
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Light bringer x scheming
an appreciation and condemnation of the schemes, moves and manouvers in light bringer. who served them the coldest, and who was bamboozled? This is only about stunts, not about morals or likability.
Lysander:
Lysander's scheming took a whole new level and I was really surprised at the little coup he staged with atalantia in the collosseum. In the first half of the book he really had the monopoly on well placed and daring maneuvering.
I think his best stunt was the compromise on the dockyard of venus, managing to keep apollonius, and win the carthii and julias block while simultaneously showing up atalantia, reinforcing the alliance with the rim and starting the attack on mars.
I wouldn't have expected him to be able to hold the alliance with applelonius for even a few weeks, now its been a whole book, I'm exited to see if Darrow can use the minotaur against lysander in red god.
yes in the attack on phobos he wasted ships and men and money and copied darrows helldiver strategy.. but he also surprised virginia with his strategies and finally took enough of phobos to have the upper hand in negotiations, something I wouldn't have expected him to be able to do. esp. after atlas called phobos impregnable.
Darrow:
in the first half darrow honestly took the scheming L. when I read the excerpt 2 weeks before buying the book I was CONVINCED that they didnt just land in apollonius obviouss trap, like pls let this be a trick. Darrow is such an experienced schemer, he must have expected a trap? but no he was like, tattoos look right, must be my bestie in this easily accessible prison. Its especially naive because he broke apollonius out of deep grave and so knows that apollonius knows how he would plan a prison break. and that backup plan was also flimsy, I expected better from him haha
on Europa Darrow had a nice scheming comeback, like recreating the Dead Horse strategy and beating Fa? Iconicc. bringing both obsidians (with a vote) and rim (with diomedes' oath) closer to democratic values? inspiring. Brokering collaboration between Rim, Daughters and Obsidians? A strong feat. that speech with the daughters was nice too.
but.. (and I'm not saying it didn't cost him a lot and will probably keep costing him dearly in red god) lysander still kept his scheming level established in the first half of the book. so much trickery, let's see how long he can keep it up before he drowns in it. He was backed into a corner by atlas but managed to trick both Atlas and Cassius, defeat the rim and gain a horrible weapon with one move.
It cost him the Rim Alliance and his humanity, but we already know his morals and ideology are a feeble construct held up by delusion and wanking off on silenius. and the rim armadas were destroyed by atlas so to lysander it probably only seems like a temporary loss until they come crawling back to society when hunger defeats them.
Sevro's stunts were refreshingly constant and awesome. Like.. escaping apollonius and fighting him in his own house?? rescuing his bumbling saviours? and the most bestest move: convincing the Daughters of Ares to work together with them by holding such an iconic speech like.. wish we would have gotten to see that in first person. just like Volgas ascension as obsidian queen. They both had such iconic and smart moments off screen. pierce doesnt want them to steel the stunt limelight me feels.
Aurae was able to follow her goals throughout the book, while managing the boys, the daughters of ares and diomedes. she had an emotional and moral bond to each one of them, but managed to stay true to her own values even as the parties were conflicting.
honorary mentions:
Lyria smuggling herself unto the archie, she knows how to take advantage of her size, even more impressive because darrow had the same experience with rhonna and still didn't realise (or didnt care?)
Apollonius snatching up Darrow and Cassius
Virginia having an informant in the Society (her clone bro?) and her making a pact with and freeing the obsidians. I would have loved to see more of her, she always delivers top tier schemes (except for when she is outschemed by society rats).
they were outschemed, honorary mentions:
Volga following Fa: even if he wasn't Atlas puppet,,, he's still such an obvious upholder of Gold values and tyranny, but volga didnt want to see any of it. this makes her following him so horrible, I hope it doesn't all get blamed on Atlas, I mean Volga was fine with everything except for atlas' involvment. I don't know if she was naive or blind or ignorant or greedy but that was some top tier delusion.
Lysander bedazzling himself: this is the most hilarious and complete trickery. That guy just believes every fucking excuse he can give himself, he just gobbles them up. He might have freed himself from his AA Puppetduo, but the real puppeteer in his life is his delusional ideology and hybris.
Atalantia: she had such a good and safe plan, she just didn't realize that lysander doesn't care for his friends enough. now she is some ships and influence poorer, lost her watchdog, her nephew/lover (ew) and the grip on Lune's heir
Diomedes: Lysander had him wrapped around his lying finger and he did nott see that dishonorrr coming. Cassius didn't see it either, but I think he would have tried to save lysander anyway. The himbo bamboozlement lost them the garter and Cassius was murdered, at least he could kill Fear on the way.
#this is not a measurement of merit#just of trickery#lysander obviously won the scheming contest#he tricked everyone and then himself#but darrows comeback was iconic#he entered with nothing but his name and his bros and left with a fleet and two new alliances#but my favorite stunter was sevro#I didnt expect it after his lack of screentime and they tied so well to his character development#in red god I wanna see some more tricks from the shes and the gays#light bringer spoilers#light bringer#red rising#darrow of lykos
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Hiyaa~! Big Red Rising fan + new to the fandom here and I was hoping for some help. I swear I saw someone post a speculative character height chart but I can't find it again... You wouldn't happen to know it OR (maybe better) what would your character height chart be? (Not for everyone, mostly just Darrow and the gang)
Hi and welcome to the fandom!
I don’t know about a chart, but I do know Pierce did an AMA on Reddit several years ago where he answered this question, which I cannot find at the moment 😂 (if any of my followers has that, please help a fellow howler out) (also apologies if you’re a metric system person, but both pierce and I are american and use the Dumb measurements)
I do remember he said that Darrow and Cassius hover around 7 feet, victra’s a bit shorter, in the upper 6’ range, mustangs about 6’1, sevro is 5’9, and red Darrow was about 5’4 (which, as someone who is 5’2…devastating).
Idk about you, I tend not to picture actual heights, more vibes so I think as far as golds go, Darrow, Cassius, and victra are tall, mustangs average, and sevros short. The telemanuses are Tall (probably in the mid-7’ range).
As for other characters I’d consider “mains”, I believe Volga has been described as small for an obsidian, in the mid 6’ range. Ephraim says once that he’s 1.75m, so he’s about sevros height, which makes me laugh.
I don’t picture Lysander as being as tall as Cassius, but Virginia does describe him as quite a bit taller than her, so I’d put him in the upper 6s with victra.
Lyria I’d say is probably 4’11 or so (because I need to be taller than someone). I think red women are probably usually under 5’ and red men probably max out at about 5’6 due to malnutrition and harsh environments. Also, she describes everyone she meets as being very tall, which is such a relatable short person thing. If you’re more than a 4-5 inches taller than me, you’re tall, and don’t ask me to guess your height because the perspective is skewed from down here and I literally can’t tell.
#red rising#thanks for the ask!#feel free to come chat anytime#I’m not someone who is great at visualizing characters in general so I just go off vibes#like I know the golds are all blond I know but also…no they’re not#I literally cannot picture sevro with blond hair his hair is very dark to me…it’s the emo kid in him#also darrow is a brunette bitch I’m sorry it’s just the truth I see in my heart#I know I will be crucified for this vision but I accept my fate
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Saints&Reading; Tuesday, July 9, 2024
june 26_ july 9
VENERABLE DAVID, MONK OF THESSALONICA (540)
Saint David of Thessalonica pursued asceticism at the monastery of the holy Martyrs Theodore and Mercurius. Inspired by the example of the holy stylites, he lived in an almond tree in constant prayer, keeping strict fast, and enduring heat and cold. He remained there for three years until an angel told him to come down.
Saint David received from God the gift of wonderworking, and he healed many from sickness. The holy ascetic gave spiritual counsel to all who came to him. Having attained to passionlessness, he was like an angel in the flesh, and he was able to take hot coals into his hands without harm. He died the year 540.
SAINT DIONYSIUS, ARCHBISHOP OF SUZDAL (1385)
Dionysius, Archbishop of Suzdal, in the world David, was tonsured at the Kiev Caves monastery. He arrived at the Volga with an icon of the Mother of God that he had received as a blessing from Saints Anthony and Theodosius. Saint Dionysius dug out a cave not far from Nizhni-Novgorod and struggled in total solitude. Brethren constantly thronged to the holy ascetic and in the year 1335 he founded a monastery in honor of the Ascension of the Lord. Among the students of Saint Dionysius were Saints Euthymius of Suzdal (April 1) and Macarius of Zheltovod and Unzha (July 25). In the year 1352 the holy Elder sent twelve of his brethren to “the upper cities and countryside, whom God would bless” for the spiritual enlightenment of the people and the organizing of new monasteries. The monastery of Saint Dionysius exerted a deep charitable influence on the inhabitants of Nizhni-Novgorod. In the year 1371 the saint tonsured into monasticism the forty-year-old widow of Prince Andrew Constantinovich, an example of how he accepted into monasticism “various dignitaries: women, widowers, and virgins.”
In the year 1374 Saint Dionysius was deemed worthy of the office of bishop. His years of service as bishop occurred during a remarkable period, for Russia was rising to cast off the Mongol-Tatar Yoke. On March 31, 1375 the Tatar military-chief, having been shown to the bishop’s court by the enslaved inhabitants of Nizhni-Novgorod, shot an arrow at Saint Dionysius, but the Lord preserved his chosen one, and the arrow struck only the bishop’s mantle. In 1377, through the blessing of Saint Dionysius (who may have edited the document), the Lavrentian Chronicle was compiled by Saint Laurence, inspiring Russia in its struggle for freedom.
In 1379, preserving the integrity of the first hierarch’s cathedra, Saint Dionysius was one of the bishops gathered in Moscow by order of the prince, and he came out against the election of the prince’s protegee, the ill-reputed archimandrite Mityaya as Metropolitan.
In the same year of 1379 Saint Dionysius journeyed to Constantinople with a protest against the choice of Mityaya on grounds of his complicity with the heretical Strigolniki. The saint made a strong impression upon the Greeks by his sublime spiritual frame of mind and his profound knowledge of Holy Scripture. Patriarch Nilus, having termed the saint “a warrior of God and a spiritual man,” wrote that he himself saw him “at fasting and charity, and vigil, and prayers, and tears, and every other virtue.” From Constantinople Saint Dionysius sent two copies of the Hodēgḗtria Icon of the Mother of God to a Council at Suzdal. In 1382 the bishop received the title of archbishop from the patriarch. Returning to Russia, the saint travelled to Pskov and Novgorod to struggle against the heresy of the Strigolniki.
He visited Constantinople a second time in 1383 for discussion with the patriarch on questions about the governance of the Russian metropolitanate. In the year 1384 Saint Dionysius was made “metropolitan for Russia” by Patriarch Nilus. But upon his return to Kiev the saint was arrested on orders of the Kiev prince Vladimir Olgerdovich and subjected to imprisonment, where he died on October 15, 1385. The burial of the saint was in “the Kiev Cave of the Great Anthony.” Saint Dionysius is commemorated on June 26 because it is the Feast of his patron saint, Saint David of Thessalonica, whose name he was given in Baptism. In the Synodikon of the 1552 Nizhni-Novgorod Caves monastery, Saint Dionysius is called a “wonderworking monk”.
ROMANS 7:14-8:2
14 For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am carnal, sold under sin. 15 For what I am doing, I do not understand. For what I will to do, that I do not practice; but what I hate, that I do. 16 If, then, I do what I will not to do, I agree with the law that it is good. 17 But now, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me. 18 For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh) nothing good dwells; for to will is present with me, but how to perform what is good I do not find. 19 For the good that I will to do, I do not do; but the evil I will not to do, that I practice. 20 Now if I do what I will not to do, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me. 21 I find then a law, that evil is present with me, the one who wills to do good. 22 For I delight in the law of God according to the inward man. 23 But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. 24 O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? 25 I thank God-through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, with the mind I myself serve the law of God, but with the flesh the law of sin.
1 There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit. 2 For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death.
MATTHEW 10:9-15
9 Provide neither gold nor silver nor copper in your money belts, 10 nor bag for your journey, nor two tunics, nor sandals, nor staffs; for a worker is worthy of his food. 11 Now whatever city or town you enter, inquire who in it is worthy, and stay there till you go out. 12 And when you go into a household, greet it. 13 If the household is worthy, let your peace come upon it. But if it is not worthy, let your peace return to you. 14 And whoever will not receive you nor hear your words, when you depart from that house or city, shake off the dust from your feet. 15 Assuredly, I say to you, it will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than for that city!
#orthodoxy#orthodoxchristianity#easternorthodoxchurch#originofchristianity#spirituality#holyscriptures#gospel#bible#wisdom#faith#saints
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Besides the ubiquitous, domesticated goldfish and koi, known to fish fanciers the world over, a number of other cool water, freshwater species appear in the aquarium trade. In Britain and mainland Europe these include species of fishes, that are native to the wild freshwaters of those countries. One such species of fish is Gobio gobio, the common or European gudgeon, or simply the gudgeon.
This is a carp growing to a length of 12 centimeters, or a little below 5 inches long. Large G. gobio may exceed 20 centimeters or 8 inches in length. The exact boundaries of the range of G. gobio, are controversial and unclear, because the traditional G. gobio is recognized now as a species complex. This means certain geographical morphs that were formerly assigned to G. gobio, are now widely accepted as elevated to full species status, rather than them being races of a polytypic species. The traditional range of G. gobio was considered to be all the way from the Atlantic facade of Europe, and farther east beyond the River Volga and the Ural Mts, into still more eastern parts of the Palaearctic realm.
Gudgeon have evolved to live in flowing water, but the hatchlings and juveniles prefer areas of low current, high detritus, and sandy bottoms. Mature gudgeon are best associated with clear, fast flowing rivers with gravelly or pebbly bottoms, but they can be found living in large lakes also. Gudgeon are schooling fish species that should be maintained in numbers in ponds and aquariums. They emit bursts of vocalizations in order to communicate with one another. Their adult diet is comprised of aquatic insects, amphipods, and molluscs, which these demersal carp forage for at the base of the water column. It is unknown wether they purposefully ingest filamentous algae, which can be found in their gut contents They are cyprinids so it is certainly possible.
Despite its binomial, G. gobio is not one of the gobies, but a carp, of bottom swimming habits. The word 'gudgeon' comes to English via Latin, from the earlier Greek, but it is uncertain as to what kind of fish the Greek word had originally referred to, and it appears to be a substrate or loan word into Greek, rather than originally a Greek word. The Akkadian word 'kuppu' might or might not be a cognate word. Different kinds of fish that are named in some way after the Latin word 'gobio' are not necessarily related.
Aquarium literature indicates 22 degrees as the upper limits of aquarium temperature that gudgeon can be exposed to. Wild populations of introduced gudgeon, flourish at high densities where the water temperature is as high as 23 or 24 degrees in some months, and in the cool months, the water temperature falls as low as 4 degrees. One wonders how much natural selection, might have decided the temperature tolerances of gudgeon populations, that are inhabiting different environments. On average in nature, they seem to prefer waters with a pH value close to 8, but there is a little variation, and they can certainly be fine when they are accommodated in the aquarium, at a pH as low as 7.
Gudgeon are peaceful, bottom living fishes, and they are easy to feed on sinking pellets and defrosted foods, although they are coldwater fishes from temperate climates, and the water temperature must not exceed the recommended, ambient range of room temperature at 18-22 degrees centigrade, for any significant length of time. Although some wild populations briefly tolerate spells as high as 28 degrees, it is only in some months. Because they inhabit clear and usually flowing waters, the water that gudgeon are housed in must be well filtered and oxygenated. These are active, bottom swimming fish and they require an area of open substrate to live on.
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Born of a wealthy land-owning family which had dominion over two thousand serfs somewhere on the Upper Volga, Dubrov might well have led the contented life of his forebears, riding around his estates with his borzois at his heel and seasonally dispatching the bears and boars and wolves with which his forests were plentifully stocked. Instead, at the age of fifteen he visited his godmother in St. Petersburg and had the misfortune to see the sapphire curtains of the Maryinsky part on the premiere of Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty. Carlotta Brianzi had danced Aurora, Maria Petipa was the Lilac Fairy—and that was that. For the last twenty years, first in his homeland and latterly in Europe, Dubrov had served the art that he adored.
—A Company of Swans by Eva Ibbotson
#writeblr#bookblr#books#book quotes#quotes#a company of swans#eva ibbotson#a company of swans by eva ibbotson#a company of swans quotes#jamietukpahwriting
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From Russia with lawlessness : 1994 : Metromedia, Park Place, Moscow
“I am a paediatric doctor,” said the young woman cleaning the toilet bowl in the bathroom of my apartment. “I work at the hospital during the day but I cannot live on my salary, so I have to work as a cleaner every evening.”
I was embarrassed. Although the doctor had been cleaning my apartment nightly, this was the first occasion I had attempted to strike up a conversation. I had mistakenly presumed that my ‘cleaner’ spoke no English. How wrong I was! Maybe she assumed I was a snobby American corporate manager who had just been posted overseas. How wrong she was! I was an unemployed Brit forced to take some freelance radio consulting work abroad, having failed to secure a job in my own backyard. Both of us were having to do what we did to survive.
I felt disorientated here. It was my first time in Russia. I would never have chosen to work here. But it could have been worse. My client, American public corporation Metromedia, had initially told me my destination was to be Nizhny Novgorod. I had had to consult a map to even locate that industrial city on the Volga. Thankfully, instead, I was sent to cosmopolitan Moscow. But looks are deceiving. My surroundings gave the semblance of a modern city but almost nothing actually worked as it should. Here was an incomplete facsimile of Western capitalist infrastructure in which the Soviet state had copied the designs without implementing the mechanisms. It recalled the era when a ‘Made in China’ label was a surefire guarantee a product that might look good would quickly fail.
My one-bedroom apartment appeared quite luxurious, about three times the size of my poky second-floor flat in London, with floor-to-ceiling glass windows on an upper floor that looked out over the permanent pollution rising from Moscow’s busy streets. It was inside a huge, newly built trio of linked office blocks containing office spaces and 330 apartments intended for foreign businesses that required a secure location 14 kilometres from the Kremlin. It was like living in one of those vast complexes portrayed in American movies about the self-destructive life of a harassed corporate ‘road warrior’. Maybe it was designed to offer ex-pats that kind of bland fictional familiarity.
In January 1994, Metromedia had bought one of the least popular FM radio stations in Moscow, planning to turn it into one of the most popular. There was a hitch. The Americans were baffled by the radio market not just in Russia, but in the whole of Europe. They could hear 30+ stations broadcasting in Moscow but they could not fathom what they were doing on-air. This was not simply a language problem. It was a challenge because Americans were accustomed to tightly defined music or speech broadcasters in their commercial radio system. You only had to listen to the vast majority of American radio stations for around ten minutes to recognise their ‘format’. Europe was not like that, largely because ‘public service broadcasting’ had been legislated as the bedrock of its broadcast systems since the invention of radio.
Before my flight to Moscow, I had purchased a Sony all-band radio from an electronics shop in Watford for almost £100. It was now put to service all day while I listened hour after hour to a particular Moscow radio station, writing notes about the music played, the talk, the advertisements, the jingles and anything else I heard. I was used to listening to radio stations in languages of which I had no comprehension, having spent so many weekend nights as a schoolboy DX-ing radio stations from all over the world on a Trio 9R59DS radio receiver. I had also analysed local radio markets in the UK for groups applying for new licences, monitoring existing stations’ broadcasts and tabulating the results. It might be boring work but at least I was being paid to do it!
One morning I received an email requesting my presence at an important staff meeting to be held in the Metromedia office within Park Place. This surprised me for several reasons: I was not an employee, I had never previously been invited to such a meeting in Moscow and, most astonishingly, nobody had told me that Metromedia even had an office within the same building where I was living. I had to call the phone number on the message to ask where precisely this office was located within the complex.
After spending so many days alone in the apartment listening to my radio and writing copious observations, it was an adventure to walk through the building’s labyrinth of anonymous floors and numbered doors to eventually locate and knock on the Metromedia office. After weeks of perpetual solitude, it felt like coming out of prison to be greeted by a surprise party. The room was full of Americans of whom I had never been aware, let alone met, all chatting away noisily. None of them had the faintest idea who I was, requiring my explanation that I too had received THE email. They were very welcoming in the American way, despite probably wondering why on earth this unknown, scraggy Englishman was present.
The meeting started soberly with an update on Metromedia’s progress attracting paying subscribers to its broadcast television service ‘Kosmos TV’ and mobile phone system it had apparently launched in 1991 in partnership with the state’s ‘Moscow Television & Transmitter Centre’. I had no idea that Metromedia had been operating in Moscow several years already and had been investing around US$5m annually in that particular joint venture business. The good news was its success in building a growing subscriber base. However, the reason for this meeting was the bad news that the Russian who had been appointed manager of the business had just disappeared with all its funds and had proven untraceable. There were long faces. Oh dear.
Welcoming the variation from my usual lonely routine, I spent the remainder of that day in the office chatting with some of my newly discovered Metromedia colleagues. At that stage, it seemed unclear whether the television business could continue and whether the office would even remain in operation. I met the corporation’s financial analyst Muema Lombe who shared my interest in pirate radio and he generously introduced me to the basics of Excel, the software that has been the mainstay of my analysis work ever since. We remain close friends since that chance introduction in Moscow.
On the way back to my apartment, I called in at the ‘Garden Ring Irish Supermarket’ in the Park Place lobby to buy my regular supplies. It was a smaller satellite branch of the bigger shop in the city centre that had opened in 1992. I was surviving on breakfast cereal, milk, bananas, tea and snacks, particularly American ‘Oreo’ cookies which I had never seen before. There was no cooking equipment in the apartment beyond a kettle, probably to encourage residents to eat in the complex’s vastly overpriced restaurant. Lacking a corporate expense account, I only ate there when my American line manager John Catlett was in Moscow, enduring hour-long waits to be served the simplest meals.
Although the Park Place shop’s range of food was limited, it felt too dangerous to shop outside as a foreigner. Russians bought provisions at kiosks where they could ask for the items they wanted, whereas foreigners like me had to frequent self-serve retailers where they became easily identifiable targets. In 1993, more than 7,000 crimes against foreigners had been reported in Russia, including the editor of the English-language ‘Moscow Times’ newspaper who had been robbed of cash and a laptop by men with knives outside the city centre’s Garden Ring Irish Supermarket. I had watched a ‘CNN’ report that Russia’s murder rate was three times higher than the United States’ and was only surpassed by South Africa.
Due to its success attracting foreign customers, the Irish Supermarket itself soon became a target. After its owners resisted a takeover by their Russian partner Dmitry Kishiev, there were reports of an alleged overnight explosion at its city centre store. The ‘Moscow Times’ reported: “Apparently fearing for their safety, the Irish partners then fled the country, urging their more than two-dozen expatriate employees to do likewise.”
Once Russians took over the ‘Irish’ supermarket, I noticed food on sale in Park Place marked with long gone expiry dates, the prices increased, customers deserted and eventually the shops closed altogether. Like everything else in Russia, ‘business’ was not considered a product of entrepreneurial spirit or managerial prowess. Instead, it was considered a lucky lottery ticket permitting almost anyone lacking relevant skills to intimidate, bully and exert power to enrich themselves over others.
Russia during the 1990’s was frequently referred to as the ‘Wild West’. There was a sense that just about anything you could imagine might happen there … and it frequently did. My corporate apartment felt like a haven of relative ‘normality’ within a crazed parallel universe. I cannot recall anyone being murdered at Park Place during my initial stay, unlike subsequent visits to Russia when I was given accommodation in hotels of variable quality and security. Never did I value boring old Britain so much as the days I would thankfully walk on the tarmac of Heathrow airport after yet another prolonged stay in Russia.
“A powerful bomb blast in the city’s centre on Saturday afternoon took the life of a Moscow student. The bomb which, according to police, had power equivalent to approximately 400 grams of TNT, had been placed inside a large metal dumpster on ul Bolshaya Spasskaya not far from Leningradsky train station. According to eyewitnesses, at the time of the blast, the 23-year-old female student of farming was walking by the dumpster. The strength of the explosion tore off one of her arms and blew out most of the windows in neighbouring buildings … Witnesses reported that just a few moments before the blast, several men had tried forcibly to enter a building next to where the explosion took place, but that after a doorman refused to let them enter the building, they threw a package into the dumpster.”
Small story on PAGE SEVEN of the ‘Moscow Tribune’, 30 January 1996
#commercial radio#Grant Goddard#local radio#Metromedia#radio#Radio 7#radio broadcasting#radio industry#radio sector#radio station#Russia
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youtube
The upper Volga in tsarist Russia
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Playing With Fire
CW: OCs(if y’all don’t like that) OC x Canon(eventual, again if y’all don’t like that)
Characters: Volga, Silva(OC), Lizalfos and Dinolfos
Tags: Self-Indulgent, A whole village worships Volga, like a cult, Human Sacrifice, Gifted Bride, I’m bad at pacing, Wrote This For Me, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, fat OC, just to keep that in mind, Friends to Lovers
Month 15(March)
With the arrival of March the forest started to return to the way it had been during summer; full and green.
The deer were more abundant again, animals came out of hibernation.
With a clearer path available Silva was able to visit Kai and Myra again. Volga wanted to send someone with her and won in the end.
He was right, after all: she’d been nearly abducted, then, nearly killed. It was clear she was a target, both in and outside of the caves.
Melusine escorted her, reassuring Silva that she would be fine patrolling the edges of Myra and Kai’s farm until Silva was ready to leave.
“Silva!” Myra hugged Silva tightly, making up for the cold months. They looped arms and started walking to the house. “What’s been happening?”
There was no point in putting it off.
“I was… attacked. Twice.”
Myra stopped in her tracks, dropping Silva’s arm. “Attacked? By who? Oh, Goddesses are you alright?!”
Myra took hold of Silva’s arms, nearly shaking her. Silva reached up and put her hands on Myra’s upper arms.
“Myra, I’m alright now! I’m alright.” Even as she said this she started to tear up, voice cracking.
“Oh, Sil… let’s get you to the house.” Myra wrapped her arm around Silva’s shaking shoulders and they walked to the house.
They made it as far as the porch, sitting on the steps.
“Shh…. It’s alright now. You’re okay.” Myra rubbed Silva’s shoulders and back, Silva’s forehead pressed to her shoulder.
Silva couldn’t help it. She sobbed miserably, the events still sitting heavily on her.
And why shouldn’t they? She’d been attacked in her own home. She’d nearly been kidnapped. She tried to toe the line, she tried not to overstep, and it wasn’t enough.
It was never enough.
Silva cried until her chest ached, and she had no more tears. Her head throbbed, she was hiccuping, her throat dry.
It took a while for her to calm down again, Myra leaving her only long enough to get her a glass of water. It was blissfully cool on Silva’s aching throat, helping a little. She drained the glass, handing it back.
“Thank you,”
“You’re welcome.” Myra set the glass aside. “What happened? What’s been going on, don’t lie to me. It’s pointless with what just happened.”
Silva sighed. “We had the hatchlings out one day, just to run around a little. Scylla lost her ball in the trees and brush, so I went to go and get it. While in the forest… a man grabbed me from behind. He had a syringe and said he was going to bring me to where I belonged. I managed to scream, and the others came to my rescue, but the man got away.”
Myra scooted closer, putting an arm around Silva once more. “Goddesses… what could he have meant? At least the others were close!”
“Yes, thankfully they were.”
“And… the next time?” Myra hated to bring these things up, but she needed to know.
“The hatchlings have been… influenced by the recent events. By me.” Silva paused to take a breath. “They’ve been learning about human holidays and other human things through me. But the recent events have also left them scared. The hunter attack, my being attacked, us seeing people in the forest. They’re scared.”
“Of course they are, why wouldn’t they be?”
“Some of the adults don’t like this influence I have on the hatchlings. They think it’s my fault they’re afraid. They said I’m corrupting them.”
“So they attacked you.”
“I almost died.”
Myra absorbed this silently. Silva had nearly been killed, in the place, she called home. The thought that she could have lost her best friend, her sister, and never have known it.
It scared her.
“And what did Volga do? Did he punish them? He better have, or I’ll-”
“No, no he punished them!” Silva reassured her quickly. “He banished them. Their families decided to leave with them. They left shortly after.”
“Banishment… fine, that works. As long as they’re away from you.” Myra settled. “Come on, let’s head inside. I’m sure you’re still thirsty, and lunch is soon anyway.”
---
Silva indulged and stayed until the end of the day. She filled Kai in on the events that had transpired and he reacted similarly to his wife. Like her, he settled down when Silva reassured him they were far away.
“Part of me… wants to tell you to leave and come here instead.” He admitted.
“Kai…” Silva looked down.
She couldn’t do that. She loved her home, even with its dangers. She loved the hatchlings and her friends. She loved Volga, she couldn’t just leave.
Besides, what would the village say? What might they do to Kai and Myra? They had always stood out from the others in being her friends, in changing the way they saw Volga when Silva was chosen as tribute.
Silva didn’t want anything to happen to them because of her.
“I know, I know.” Kai sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “Still, it’s how I feel.”
“Thank you, Kai, for caring so much.” Silva felt herself tearing up again.
She made sure to hug both of them tight and for as long as she dared, wanting to show them her love for them.
Soon it was time to leave.
Melusine had hunted herself a meal and patiently waited for Silva to be ready to leave. With her vision, even in the dark, they would make it home safely.
“Silva feeling better now?” She asked as they walked home.
“Oh, yes, very much. Did you enjoy yourself? I know you were patrolling, but it must have been nice to have some time to yourself.”
“Yes, was nice. Been long time.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Silva smiled up at her. “It’ll be dark soon. We should hurry.”
They walked fast, the sun setting not quite as quickly as in winter, but still early. The two made it back to the caves just after sunset, the last rays of light fading in the sky.
Silva stretched, Melusine yawning.
She’d enjoyed her alone time, yes, but it was still a bit boring. Perhaps she was just used to her routine and the presence of her hatchlings and mate.
“Well, thank you for escorting me today, Melusine.”
“You’re welcome. I will see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
They went their separate ways, Silva heading to find Volga, Melusine to her family.
As she walked to find her lover, Silva felt a little… envious. She longed for the day she had a family of her own.
Will it be with Volga? She wondered. We are courting, but that doesn’t guarantee that we’ll get married. Though I do admit…
I hope it is.
Silva peeked into Volga’s den.
“Darling? I’m back.”
“Don’t come in, I’m in the spring!” Volga called back, just as Silva was around halfway into the room.
She squeaked softly and quickly left. “I’ll be in my den!”
---
Silva was changed into her nightdress by the time Volga came to her den. He settled into her nest like it was his, kissing her cheek.
“How was your day?”
“It was good. I had a good time with Myra and Kai. How was your day?”
“The same as usual; training the others, patrolling.”
“You haven’t… had any trouble, have you?”
“Because of Fafnir and Nidhogg? None so far, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be careful.”
It was true that there were still others that felt the same as those two; several hatchlings had been pulled from the nursery, and several communications were sent out about others joining other tribes.
Silva felt horrible about this. Volga’s tribe was breaking at the seams because of her. Entire families wanting to leave just because of her.
She looked down in shame.
“Silva, there is no fault for you here.” Volga tried to reassure her, but she knew he was wrong.
It was her fault, just for existing in the caves. Because she was human, not dragonkin like them.
“Darling, you’re sweet, but we both know that’s a lie.” She looked up at him. “It is my fault, for being human and being here. For all the troubles that have happened because of me, the strangers outside hunting me, for whatever reason they have.”
“Silva…”
“Volga, there’s no denying that this is because of me.” She looked down at her folded hands.
There was nothing he could say. It was true; had Silva never come to the caves, none of this would have happened.
He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close. Volga drew her into his lap, holding her tight, trying to soothe her. But what could he do?
“We’ll figure it out. I promise.”
---
The next morning Silva headed to the nursery, she was eager to see the hatchlings. She’d been away for a few days, trying to process. Now she was ready to return to them.
“Hello!” She called as she stepped in.
As expected she was swarmed immediately, the smaller ones holding up their arms and jumping up and down to be picked up, Scylla forwent this and started climbing up Silva’s skirt.
“Scylla!” Silva laughed and plucked her from her thigh, holding her in her arms.
“Ssilva!” Scylla wrapped her little arms around her neck as far as she could, nuzzling Silva’s neck.
“I’ve missed you all. How are you?” Silva wove her way through the crowd to her boulder, sitting down.
“Ssilva… are you alright?” Lumi was worrying her hands, hovering close.
“I’m… I’ll be alright, Lumi. I just need some time.” Silva took a deep breath, wincing when more little claws dug into her leg as another hatchling scaled her leg.
“Nuri…” He climbed into her lap, looking up at her with his tongue partially out. “Hehe! You silly boy.”
Nuri looked pleased with himself.
The older hatchlings were soon herded away by Chilalea and Zysyss for scouting training, waving almost mournful goodbyes to Silva.
For the smaller hatchlings, they went to the keeps so they could run around and play. Silva left briefly to get a book to read to them but was back quickly.
She sat with some of them, reading Little Red Riding Hood to them. She’d been saving this book for a while. Sure, it had a lot of repeat fairy tales, but there were also several with heroic dragons.
Suddenly there was a cry.
“Vritra!” Silva rushed over, kneeling next to the crying hatchling. “What is it?”
“Leg!”
“He fell!” Said Edna, hopping nervously.
“Oh, sweetheart. Here let me see.” Silva reached out and carefully examined the injury.
It was a minor scrape, nothing serious, but to Vritra it was everything. Silva smiled and held her hand over the injury.
“Stop! Witch!”
She jerked at the sudden outcry. “What?”
A Lizalfos she’d never seen before ran over, shoving her away.
“Oof!”
“Witch! No touch child with your filthy magic!” She gathered Vritra into her arms, holding him away from Silva.
“What-”
“What doing?! Put down Vritra!” Lumi rushed over, snatching the frightened hatchling from the strange Lizalfos’ hands.
“Witch was using magic!”
“Silva healer!”
“Witch!” She hissed in anger.
Meanwhile, all Silva could do was watch from where she’d fallen onto her rear, the other hatchlings crowding together and watching in fright.
Lumi set Vritra down and he and Edna ran to the others. Silva scooted back, fear creeping in. Were they going to fight?
The strange Lizalfos suddenly shoved Lumi, trying to get past her to the hatchlings.
Lumi roared, a sound Silva had never heard her make, and lunged at the other, knocking her back and wrestling her on the floor.
The sound alerted any other dragonkin in the keeps, causing them to rush to the area. They tried to intervene, Lumi using her tail to knock them away. One of the bystanders helped Silva to her feet, pulling her away.
“What happening?”
It was Ryuu, the Lizalfos chieftain.
He growled and walked over, forcing the two apart with the help of another.
“What this? Why fight?” He held onto the stranger, who was covered in cuts and forming bruises.
Lumi was held back by a warrior who had tried to interfere before.
“She goes after hatchlings! Goes after Silva!” Lumi started.
“Witch!” She dragged the word out in a deep voice, hissing angrily.
“Silva is healer!” Lumi hissed back.
“Enough! What reason for attack?”
“She is witch! Uses magic on hatchling!”
“Silva heals! Magic is good!”
“Witch!”
There was no reasoning with her.
“Please, I was just-” Silva tried.
“Shut your lying mouth, witch!” The Lizalfos’ head snapped to the side to face her.
Silva flinched.
“Take her away! Send her to cells to calm down.” Ryuu ordered, handing the stranger off to two warriors, who dragged her away kicking and screaming.
Ryuu turned to Silva. “Silva alright?”
“Yes, I was just startled. She only pushed me.”
“Why was Silva using magic?” He didn’t sound accusatory.
“Vritra scraped his knee.”
“No need for magic, but I understand.” Ryuu nodded. “No need for attack. Sorry, will tell Master Volga.”
“Ah, there’s no-”
“There is need.” Ryuu cut her off. He wasn’t being mean or anything, but Silva knew he had a point.
This could escalate.
“I understand,” Silva said quietly.
She looked at the hatchlings, who slowly approached.
“Ssilva?” Vritra snuggled up to her leg. “Are you alright?”
“Oh, sweetheart…” She knelt. “I’m going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.”
She opened her arms, hatchlings crowding into her embrace.
“It’s going to be fine…”
---
“Master!”
Volga turned to see Ryuu headed for him, concern on his face.
“What is it?”
“Thorne attacked Misss Ssilva.”
“What! Is she alright?”
“Yesss, stopped by Lumi. Also went after hatchlings.”
“She went after the children? Are they hurt?” Not even the children were safe?
“Hatchlings safe, unharmed.”
“Where is Thorne now?” Volga gripped his pike tightly.
“Cells. Sent to calm down. Kept calling Misss Ssilva a witch.” Ryuu shifted his weight.
“A witch? Why?”
“Misss was going to use her magic to heal hurt Vritra.”
“Vritra was hurt?”
“Only scrape.”
“I see. I will go to Thorne, and try to sort this out.” He left Ryuu, who nodded and went back to his duties.
It took a little longer to get to the cells than any other area in the caves.
The cells were purposefully built away, to keep danger away from the residents. It was rarely used.
There were three guards there, two standing near the cell holding Thorne, and another near the entryway to the cells.
“Master.” He greeted, stepping aside.
Volga nodded in acknowledgment, stepping inside.
“Let me speak to her alone.”
The other guards left, safe in the knowledge that their Master could protect himself.
“Thorne.”
The Lizalfos sat against a wall near the middle of the cell, curled up. She didn’t respond.
“Why did you attack the hatchlings?”
“Not attack! Protect!” She shot to her feet. “Protect them from the witch!”
“The witch?”
“The witch you take to your nest. Evil woman, who sent Fafnir and Nidhogg away!”
“Silva is not a witch!” Volga snarled before managing to compose himself. “She’s a good woman.”
“She’s human! Humans are evil! Humans drove us from the valley to start their village! Tried to drag Master into war!”
“Silva is not like those humans!”
“Humans are all the same! She will betray Master!”
“She loves me!”
“Humans lie!”
“Silva has lived among us for over a year now. If she planned to betray me, wouldn’t she have done it by now?”
Thorne was quiet again for a moment.
“She will betray you. Humans are all the same. She’s a witch.”
“Silva is different, her magic is only for healing. She’s gentle and good. She isn’t like the other humans. Silva is one of us now.”
Thorne stopped responding, sitting down and curling up again.
“Thorne.”
She didn’t look at him.
Volga sighed. There would be no getting through to her it seemed. He shook his head. It was understandable. As she’d said, the humans had driven them from the valley into the caves so that they could build their own village.
They had difficulty figuring out how to survive, and how to navigate the caves, at first.
They had lost more than he cared to think about.
“I’ll deal with you later. Make sure she’s fed and given water.”
But Silva is different. He thought as he left. She isn’t afraid of us, telling stories of what animals we must be.
He charged down the halls, lost in thought.
But would my people be happier in a village, like some other tribes? He slowed to a stop. Would they be happier outside of these caves?
He stood there, pondering this. He could always ask, he knew. He could poll the population, and see what the majority thought.
If they wanted a village, he would find a way. Volga would give them a village.
He just needed to know if that was what was wanted.
Volga would gather his people and ask them. What else could he do?
---
He called his people to him in groups, asked his question, and let them think for a while. It was a life-changing decision, after all, of course, they would need time.
Some, however, answered right away.
To Volga’s surprise, the desire for a village was strong among those who answered right away.
They could connect better to other tribes, and maybe set up supply lines.
There were, of course, those who hated the idea altogether. They were loud, angry at the idea of living ‘like humans’.
They seemed somewhat soothed at the idea that they didn’t have to live in the proposed village. If they wanted to stay in the caves, they could, Volga suggesting building the village near enough that this was a possibility.
This was less soothing.
But what else could he do? If the desire for a village was the strongest he wouldn’t deny them. He couldn’t.
It took all day to go through each group, writing down a tally of who was for and who was against the idea.
He went through several sheets of paper and so far, to his surprise, the village was winning.
Volga sat at his desk and tucked his papers away carefully, thinking over his proposal. There would be plenty of wood to build houses with since they’d need to clear the trees for the village.
“Volga?”
He looked over his shoulder, seeing Silva. Of course, it was her. She was the only one who never called him Master.
She walked in, almost looking shy, stopping by his side.
“I… Ryuu told you what happened?” She wasn’t looking at him.
Volga sighed softly and stood, taking her into his arms.
“Yes, my treasure, I heard. I spoke with Thorne, but I don’t believe I got through to her.” He nuzzled her hair.
Silva sighed as well, holding herself close to him. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. There are those with their own beliefs and convictions. It isn’t your fault. You can’t help being Hylian. You can’t help being human.”
Silva buried her face in his chest. He still smelled like leather and cinnamon, but it seemed the cinnamon was stronger today.
They held each other for a while, Silva trying not to wallow in self-pity over the recent events.
“Shall we head to bed?” Volga asked as he pulled away.
Silva nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
They parted ways long enough to change, before slipping into Volga’s nest and each other's arms.
---
The next day Volga received a visit.
“Lixue?”
The other dragon stood in the entryway to the caves, holding several letters.
“I was asked to bring you these since you don’t have a mail system set up.” She walked over, handing the letters to him.
He flipped through them a moment before opening one. He read it over, still somewhat slowly, and sighed.
“I’m assuming all of them are like this. Offering to take in members of my tribe who wish to leave.”
“I assume. Is it that bad for them, having her here?” Lixue put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
“For them? Yes. For the rest of us? No, she’s wonderful.”
Lixue suddenly gave a toothy grin. “Wonderful, huh?”
Volga glared at them a moment. “Yes, wonderful. And yes, Lixue, we’re courting.”
“Aww haha! I knew you liked her!” Lixue laughed, but it wasn’t mean.
Volga gave a half-smile, more concerned with the letters. He opened them one by one, and as he’d expected all were the same.
Offers to take in members of his tribe who’d rather leave.
What could he do but tell them of these offers?
He sighed. Would there be a mass exodus from the caves?
Volga hoped not.
“Is there anything I can do?” Lixue asked, head tilted.
“What could you do? If they want to leave, I can’t keep them here.” Volga sighed again.
“I suppose not.” They patted his shoulder again. “In other news, we need to get you set up with a mail line! I’m not always going to play messenger Little Red.”
Volga glared up at her, but there was little heat. She was right, after all. They lacked basic necessities, like mail and supply lines. Things that had been set up by his parents, had deteriorated over time with his lack of care.
“To be honest, Lixue, I’ve been considering building a village.”
Lixue looked at him in shock, jaw dropped a little. “A village? Finally! You’ve been in these caves too long.”
“You can help there,” He offered tentatively.
“Well,” Lixue put a hand to her chin. “You’d need help clearing the land, but your people would be a good start. You’ll need carpenters who know how to build for dragonfolk. There’s quite a bit that goes into building a village. Are you sure you want to?”
“I need to tally the votes first. But I’m hoping to.”
“Well, get it sorted first before I go poking around. We’ll deal with it from there.”
“Alright.”
“Well, I’ll see you later.” Lixue patted his head teasingly.
Volga knocked her hand away with another mild glare, watching her leave. She flew off, Volga sighing again as he looked upon the three letters. He knew two of the writers, Glycon and Errier, but wasn’t sure of the last one.
Who was Daina?
He’d never heard of them.
---
Volga called his people to him in groups again, asking who would like to venture outside of the caves as messengers.
“I warn you, it will likely not be easy. You’ll travel far at times, facing humans and other opposition. You must be strong, and brave.” He informed them.
“How many do you need Master?”
“As many as are willing, or who’d like to take the job. You’ll have other jobs until you are needed, but we need messengers.”
There was a small group who accepted the job. A desire to serve, as well as a desire to explore.
For their first test, he would send a response to Glycon and Errier after informing his people of their offers.
Neither had anything against humans but rarely interacted with them. His people would like that.
Well… they wouldn’t be his people anymore, would they?
He called them together again.
“For those of you who wish to move on to a tribe without humans hear me: there are two who are willing to take you. Come to me, one by one, and tell me your answers.”
For hours he sat, taking names and making sure of who wanted to go where. There were more leaving than he’d expected, and it hurt. He felt like a bad leader, but what else could he do?
Silva’s life was in danger, and he couldn’t let their hatred result in an innocent death. If this was what it took for peace to return to the tribe...
So be it.
When he was finally done, Volga wrote out letters to each dragon. He explained how many wanted where, and that he would wait for their responses before sending the dragonkin who wanted to move.
He handed off the letters, as well as maps to where Glycon and Errier lived, and his messengers were off.
He sat back with a deep exhale.
When he’d taken Silva up on her offer to teach him to read and write, he’d never imagined it would be used for this.
---
Silva was by the river, doing her laundry. She knew today would be tough from the moment she saw Volga with paper in his hands.
He’d smiled sadly at her and went on his way.
She was bent now, scrubbing her dress, wondering how she could cheer him up.
It was her fault, and she knew it. If not for her being human, Hylian, then they wouldn’t want to leave.
But what could she do? It wasn’t like she could change it.
All she could do was try to soothe Volga and the remaining members of the tribe.
She stood and sighed, wringing out her dress.
“What can I do?”
There was nothing she could do.
She put her dress in the basket.
She looked up, measuring the sun and how much daylight was left, but her laundry was done. All she needed to do was take it back to her den to dry.
Silva looked around. “Tanit? I’m ready to go home now.”
Tanit and her small group of guards emerged from all around. There were three of them altogether, spread out through the small area of the forest behind the river.
They waited patiently for Silva to gather her things and walk with them home.
It was slower going with her arms full with a heavy basket, Tanit gently taking it from her eventually with a teasing smile, but they made good time. The sun was still high overhead, it was afternoon, and there was plenty of time left in the day.
What shall I do after hanging my clothes? Silva pondered.
She supposed she could train a little. Much as she loved the hatchlings, it was nice to have a break from them sometimes.
Volga will be busy. He was still waiting on the return of his messengers from when he sent out the letters the other day. They’ll probably be gone for a while.
There were days when she missed her work in the village, but with how they had been acting she knew it was better to stay away.
“Ssilva, we’re home.” Tanit nudged her gently.
“Hmm? Oh, thank you.” Silva took the basket and said her goodbyes, the group going their separate ways.
“I should probably train a little, I need to get better with my daggers.” She started hanging her clothes, the soft drip of leftover water filling the silence.
---
A few weeks later
The messengers finally returned, some worse for the wear, but they all returned.
Glycon and Errier were both more than willing to take the ones leaving, both reassuring Volga they would be well cared for.
Volga closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
This is happening. He thought. My people will be separating.
The tribe his parents had led before he was born, was being torn apart.
It’s not her fault. She can’t help being who she is.
He took another breath and set the letters down.
It was time.
Once more he called his tribe together, a full tribe for the last time.
“Errier and Glycon have both agreed to take those who wish to leave. Select group leaders, and I will give maps to those who can read them.”
It hurt.
He watched groups form, a pit in his stomach.
Mother, Father… I’ve failed you.
---
Silva stayed away from the main chamber as soon as she heard Volga call for his people to gather. She knew what that meant.
The messengers were back, and they had news.
She stayed away from the nursery, lamenting the decreased size of her groups. They had been overflowing once, and now…
Now they filled the nursery, but it felt like so much less.
Silva remained in her room, curled up in her nest.
It’s all my fault. Because I’m Hylian, because I came here…
She buried her face in her bedding and wept.
---
At dinner, there were few in the dining hall, friends and families getting ready to depart.
Silva ate alone, Volga too busy to pause for a meal, and, besides, she was in no mood for company.
Once done she cleaned her dishes and went back to her den. She refused to cry anymore, trying to focus her mind on other things.
She took out her drawing pad, going to a sketch of the hatchlings playing.
It only made her sad.
Silva flipped the page over and over, looking for something to take her mind off the looming dark mood that hung over her.
She finally settled on a blank page.
It took her a long moment to decide, but she finally chose her subject.
She drew slowly, meticulously, doing her very best to capture her subject. She wanted it to be perfect.
Time seemed to slow around her, her eyes softening as her picture became clearer.
Each stroke of the pencil was loving, every line planned and placed.
“Silva?”
She was drawn out of her trance by Volga’s voice. “Huh?”
The moment she raised her head it started to buzz, neck aching.
“Agh…” She reached back and rubbed her neck.
“Are you alright?” Volga came over and knelt next to her.
“Yes, I just kept my neck bent too long.” She rubbed her neck some more.
Volga reached out and replaced her hand with his, the warmth sinking into her skin.
“Mmm… that feels nice.” Silva closed her eyes and leaned closer to him.
Volga chuckled softly and kept rubbing as his eyes drifted to the paper.
On it was a beautiful woman, half of her face covered by her long hair. She had a soft smile on her face, a gentle air about her. A simple, but lovely, dress clothed her, and the start of some kind of background was around her.
“Who’s this?”
“Hmm?” Silva opened her eyes and looked down. “It’s… the woman I’ve been seeing in my dreams. I don’t know what she’s called.”
“I see. I wonder who she is, and why she is visiting you.” He wondered if this woman was the source of the voice from his dream.
He drew his hand away and kissed her cheek. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes, have you?” Silva flexed her hand a little.
“Yes,” He sighed and leaned his head on her shoulder.
“Darling…”
“Can I stay with you tonight?” His voice was softer than she’d ever heard it.
“Of course, you can.” She kissed his head.
He went to change and she put her drawing pad away.
---
Volga’s mother and father stood before him at the entrance to the caves, smiling, his tribe behind him.
Volga reached out, longing filling him.
His tribe suddenly started filing out around him, leaving the caves.
“Wait!” He was frozen in place.
No matter how he plead, they ignored him, leaving en mass without so much as a look behind them.
His parents' smiles turned to frowns, eyes full of disappointment.
“Please…”
Silva walked from behind him.
“Silva!”
She stopped in front of his parents, turning to look over her shoulder at him.
Then she turned back around, and left like the others, his parents following behind her.
He was a child again, crying helplessly.
“Don’t leave me!”
Volga jerked awake, eyes shooting open, breathing heavy. Silva lay next to him, facing him, fast asleep, his arm draped over her waist.
Her hand was tucked under her cheek, squishing it slightly, and she let out a soft breath as she snuggled further into her pillow.
Volga let his breathing slow, his heart calm, before moving closer. He brought his hand from her waist and gently touched her cheek. Silva made a little noise and tilted her head slightly, but did not awaken.
He leaned close and kissed her forehead.
“Please, don’t leave me.”
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I was thinking about how apart from the guardian scars, Wild probably has other scars from like cooking, and Four from being a blacksmith. Do you have any hcs for scars or lasting injuries that the others might have?
Boy howdy do I, now ive only played some games, so some are specific to game events some are generalized! Read under the cut!
Four:
Dozens of scars along his hands from the hammer in the forge
along with some speckle shaped scars along his neck from splash back of ambers when working once w/o he mask.
Rather large scar along his leg from being grabbed by an inn keepers cat as a minish.
Can’t close his left hand completely due to improper healing after smashing it
Head scar under headband from vaati
Hyrule:
Numorous scars along his calfs from just barely escaping monsters,
scar along his shoulder blade form being swatted at as a fairy,
Small lines across his leg from getting stuck in an iron trap
lots of smaller scars from general falls and clumsiness
Legend:
big ass scar along his back from the shipwreck of Link's Awakening,
smaller scars along hims hands and legs from magic items and his lack of pants.
Calf burn from the misfire of a magic rod when he first discovered them.
Sky:
Lightening scars along his arms and back from forging the master sword,
scar on his cheek from ghirahim,
Scar along his leg from one time groose pushed him into the lake and he hit a rock,
lots of little baby scars along his fingers from wood carving
Time:
Scar along the back of his head from his fall in Majoras Mask,
beast marks along his chest from Ganon and other fights.
A lot are from learning how to use farm equippment but will never admit that
Scars along his jaw and neck from overuse of certain masks
Twilight:
Larger scar along his nose and lip from a run in with a wild wolf pack after his adventure.
Scar circling his upper left arm from where it was cut off in the started of his journey (manga),
Severely callous scarred hands from handing goats and farm equipment.
Missing pieces of left ear from ripped out earrings/jewelry
Burn scar along his side from Rusl
Warriors:
Massive scar along his forearm from his fight with Volga
Hundreds of small, barely noticeable scars from hits in the war that got through his chain mail
Similar ear tear from ripped out jewelry like twilight
3 perfect hole scars on his thigh from being shot with dirty arrows
Wild:
Star shaped scar on his palms from trying to pull the master sword over and over
“U” shaped scar on his right side from getting kicked by a horse
Ragged scar along his back from falling onto a rock after climbing in the rain
Small burn scar on his shoulder from FireBlight Ganon
Wind:
Scar under his chin from fight with Ganon
Burn scar on his wrist from a canon miss fire on tetras ship
Scratch marks on his head and back of his hands from his first attempts at working with seagulls
Misshapen scar along his upper arm from a poor attempt at stitching a wound on his own
#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu#four linked universe#hyrule linked universe#legend linked universe#sky linked universe#time linked universe#twilight linked universe#warriors linked universe#wild linked universe#wind linked universe
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POD: December 1241 - Ögedei Khan manages to avoid drinking himself to death in a bout with Abd-ur-Rahman, and the conquest of Europe continues for another decade. 1251 - Ögedei Khan, having presided over the conquest of the northern territories of the Holy Roman Empire dies at his encampment along the English Channel. The Mongol Empire soon splinters and Batu Khan establishes the Tzarkhanate after calling a kurultai for dominion over Mongol Europe. 1253 - Start of the Polish Revolts led primarily by Casimir of Kuyavia, the heir to the Piast dynasty following the death of Duke Bolesław V. The rebellion lasts over a decade, but constant infighting from rival nobles prevents Casimir from gaining the upper hand over the Prussian and Lithuanian vassals of the Rus. 1265 - The Margraviate of Brandenburg revolts against the Khanate hoping to spark a wider German revolt, however the nobles are never able to consolidate around a leader. 1282 - Constantinople falls to a combined force of Turks who were driven out of eastern Anatolia by the Ilkhanate. The Byzantines are progressively driven back to the Peloponnese and the surrounding territories. 1319 - At Kalmar the Swedes, Norwegians, and remnants of the Danish court agree to form a personal union under Magnus IV of Sweden, largely in response to the death of Eric VI of Denmark during the Mongol conquest of Jutland. 1339 - Pope Nicholas V and Holy Roman Emperor Louis IV meet in Rome to launch the Anti-Mongol Crusade. Concurrently, King Edward III of England launches what would become the War of French Liberation (1339-1422). 1350 - The Anti-Mongol Crusade comes to an end after the humiliating defeat at Vienna. Emperor Louis IV returns to Rome and officially dissolves the Holy Roman Empire in favor of direct rule over Italy as the first of the Wittelsbach Kings. Louis and his heirs continue to claim the Duchy of Bavaria. By the middle of the 14th Century the Tzarkhanate is seen by the rest of Europe as a badly run state with an arrogant polyglot culture, unworthy to call themselves Europeans. But the fact remains that the Tzarkhanate is also the wealthiest and most powerful realm in European history, and its nobility remain surprisingly unified despite (or possibly because of) a chaotic political system. Mongol overlordship would continue until the end of the 15th century with the "Great Stand on the Volga River" leading to the establishment of a genuine monarchy centered at Moscow under the Rurik dynasty. Thanks to all my Patreon supporters who made this map possible. All my patrons get early access to my projects before they go live. Please subscribe at: patreon.com/SeanMcKnight
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