#verses tag to be determined

[lieutenantmongoose]

Verse Info: Good and Faithful (or, a polite haunting) 

The Story - 

( Good and Faithful, Codifier )      -     In which Jopson died just before the 1839 expedition. He tends to avoid discussion of how it actually happened, but in any case he had just accepted the stewardship position and had been counting on those wages to pay the doctor for his mother’s treatment, and needed to ensure that she and Avery would be reasonably comfortable in his absence.  

Being that he had neither time nor inclination to be dead, and truthfully not quite even realizing he was dead, Jopson simply collected himself and carried on as usual, under the impression that the whole incident was simply a minor dizzy spell.

The issue, of course, with continuing to pilot one’s corporeal form with a severed connection between body and ghost, is that it’s somewhat akin to clutching a bedsheet in front of yourself while standing outside in a hurricane. And in addition to keeping hold of that bedsheet, you also have to hang up the rest of the laundry on the lines, and avoid letting your neighbors see that you’re out in a hurricane in nothing but a bedsheet still trying to finish your laundry, because odds are your neighbors will have Questions about this type of behavior. 

Fortunately, Jopson had always been quick to catch on to things so it was with only a minor bout of sudden collapses and fits of uncharacteristic clumsiness that he mostly got the hang of the situation before setting sail, and for the most part was able to avoid any trouble. 

Avoiding trouble lasted until a point about halfway through the expedition, when he very nearly frightened Captain Crozier into a similar state by forgetting to shiver. Or keep up a pulse. This almost led to a rather tender moment indeed as Crozier was quite unhappy to see him Dying, but this was abated by admitting to already having been quite dead from the beginning and thus unchanged in status despite what ought to have been a lethal case of hypothermia.

All in all, Crozier was actually rather more amenable to the idea of having a dead steward than he’d thought ten minutes prior, and all continued as normal. 

However

Once the Franklin Expedition begins

( Oh Dear, My Heart/The Moon Plays Host ) 

It turns out that keeping hold of the proverbial bedsheet is a lot more challenging under certain conditions, and there are only so many ‘fainting spells’ that can be got away with without arousing suspicion, and that the presence of a strange magic in the air tends to have interesting effects on ghosts improperly connected to the mortal plane.

It further turns out that this arrangement creates a bit of an impasse when faced with soul-devouring creatures. They are used to tackling a body and pulling the soul from it. The soul simply moving out of the way is not generally expected, and is regarded as highly inconvenient. 

Or, 

Jopson is a ghost during the Franklin Expedition, which is fine, except that improperly tethered ghosts start to get a little bit creature-y the longer they drift in seemingly-cursed landscapes trying to reject their souls like a bad transplant. Also, at night, Jopson can see the crew’s Dead still wandering the ice. 

[vidra-comprehends]

What in the world are we going to do? Look at what everybody's going through What kind of world do you want it to be? Am I the future or the history?

[halogenseas]

A picture of my brain right now. 

[pink-link-lemonade]

• • •

[angclradiio]

( @wantdead ) .... ( cont from ) his voice was weakened through the pain.  he felt dizzy, felt like he was about to pass out, but he was STILL STANDING, still trying.  he took short breaths between his words, as he tried the best he could to remain still, stand strong before her.         ‘  this isn’t you.  you know that.  you don’t wanna hurt them. ’

      ‘  it’s not too late.  you can still stop! ’ 

hands went over her ears as she paused in her walk towards him. he was confusing her. he wasn't listening to her. she'd escaped. this was HER choice. she wasn't doing heaven's dirty work. she didn't do that anymore. RIGHT?

       ‘  this isn’t you.  you know that.  you don’t wanna hurt them. ’

" I have to, " she finally yelled. " Don't you understand? This is the only way. If I don't more will die. I am trying to do the least damage here. " though it was the most damage to herself. she cared for dean. he was one of the only beings she did care about. and she was going to have to destroy anything related to him in order to keep the peace. it was killing her. she felt like she was dying.

she almost dropped her knife. anna looked down at him, her eyes showing just how confused she was. how scared. everything hurt. none of this felt right. why was she here. why was she doing this. it didn't make sense. " Dean... "

[crystal-verse]

OKAY this is out of nowhere But

So according to FFXIV wiki (console games wiki, as opposed to the fandom.com wiki), there are six g tribe miqo'te that we currently know exist: g'raha tia (main character introduced in Crystal Tower quests, beloved by many), g'wahneko (armourer's guild receptionist in Limsa), g'jusana (vendor of the books needed for ARR relics), g'nibnpha (maelstrom commander, sidequest in the fringes), g'zensta, and g'nanghal

Of these six miqo'te, I've found the least information about g'zensta or g'nanghal -- gamerscapes says they're affiliated with Limsa, but I've searched both Limsa Lower Decks and Limsa Upper Decks, as well as all cities or little towns in La Noscea, and have been unable to find either of them.

And so I turn to Tumblr, because I am desperately trying to find g'zensta and g'nanghal (who were apparently added in patch 2.1) in hopes of getting any bit of information on them. If you know these two NPCs, have an image of them, and/or can tell me where they can be found in-game, it would be greatly appreciated if you did so!

[halphcs-a]

" Sorry, I didn't catch what you said. I apolgoize. It's quite noisy in here tonight it seems. I wasn't expecting this at all. " /@3katanas

[tevintersnakes]

a quick comparison of a comparison I'd done last month (19-Apr-24) while getting back into the knack of drawing my guy

[b1uedcollar]

CODY    +    HOH    .

will    huh?    your   ass   to   death   and   knows   enough   sign   language   to   get   through   a   conversation.   learned   through   many   backseat   lessons   in   the   squad   from   COWAN,   the   homeless   vet   who   insisted   the   beauty   salon’s   porch   swing   was   the   best  sleeping   spot,    —    despite   numerous   calls   to   the   station   from   the   owner.   cody’d   respond,   late   by   the   hairdresser’s   standards,   with   two   of   the   guy’s   favorite   double-cheese-triple-bacon   burgers   and   a   box   of   crinkle   fries.

#to bring this back … just for a second. a minute if you will.   #pop wasn’t That shy or /slow/. he was deaf in one ear and couldn’t keep up with most conversations.   #especially cody. who talks double the speed of his wife. tee always filled the gaps for the kids. cody covered with the cousins. making it   #work but there was still that barrier. shrugged off by his shyness. his ocd. the ever-insulting /inability to connect/ whatever that means.   #cody’s older when he learns why. catching pop in the shed lookin at sign language from some dusty book.   #and then they quietly get in the routine of studying together in that same shed. squinting at cody’s tiny ass phone screen.   #he’s trying not to spook the man. get too excited about finally having a solid way to communicate with his grandfather.   #but he still buys that monitor and all the cords so they can screen some app thing the library lady suggested.   #of course he never gets it all set up. with the funeral. and the blood. and then all those hours in that white room at the hospital.   #cody swipes near the app during late shifts. as it shakes he swears he can hear the squealing. but he can never bring himself to hit delete.   #then he signs an offhand comment to cowan one day. and real world practice becomes better than the whatever rosey stoner app.   #if only to keep everyone feeling included. right?   #( this also ties into cody’s own problem keeping up with conversations [ which inevitably causes fights ] because his hands stay busy.   #with a tool. a baseball. signing. he’s always 69.96% focused on the actual words. which is why it can be frustrating for the other person.  #anyway ………………..

[xflashbastardx]

{ talking about verses reminded me that I haven't finished the behind the scenes stuff on my blog hgjfkdslkdjfhg oops }

[scientistredacted]

❝IT APPEARS YOU HAVE REACHED❞ ❝AN END.❞

[jeoseungsaja]

What's your role in a tragic play?

bold protagonist

you're the star of the show, baby! and boy does that come with a lot of emotional turmoil. you have a seemingly endless supply of determination. whether you have a lot of goals, or one big one, you're constantly working towards it. you're pretty restless, and struggle with imposter syndrome and generally feeling like you should be doing more. your insecurity might not be immediately obvious to others, however, as you come across as very strong and bold. vulnerability is not your strong suit, and that's likely to be your downfall. if only you had just let people in, and asked for help... well, maybe this was always gonna be a tragedy.

TAGGED BY: @rippleofwords TAGGING: @astremourante | @mythvoiced | @ofgentleresolve (How about K? 👀) | @eclavigne & whoever wishes to do this one!!

[ensnchekov-a]

@my-timing-is-digital, x.

An abandoned, dilapidated building on the outskirts of a Federation colony had been his temporary residence — hideout would be a more appropriate epithet to ascribe to this former domicile — for less than a week. The partially disintegrated walls were permanently damp, and draughts wailed lugubriously and at irregular intervals. The sonic phenomenon was, regrettably, an accurate rendition of his present disposition, but to him this was a consolidation rather than an undesirable disturbance; despite his ineptitude to express the state of his emotion, it fascinated him that an element, such as air, could articulate it immaculately. He had deliberately opted to deactivate the chip indefinitely, for he had anticipated the possibility that a frenzy of unquenchable rage could corrupt every last particle of his programming if it remained operative, and thus would provide the Federation with a legitimate reason to apprehend, decommission, and dismantle him should a subsequent conflict lead to casualties. His error would be the pinnacle of their evidence against all synthetic lifeforms; it would corroborate the falsifications the Federation had been spewing at everyone who cared to listen, that androids are compromised and dangerous. Fortunately for him, not everyone believed this preposterous malarkey.

    Someone has been stalking me. The words enunciated by his young associate lacerated through the silence that had engulfed him for over two hours. His ponderous frown levelled out as he turned to face the boy; a youthful countenance staring back at an ageless one. Pavel Chekov was a promising Starfleet officer who had discontinued his career to become a benefactor for a fugitive android who was in desperate need of assistance. Admittedly, Data had increased his vigilance the first three days they spent together, but over the course of 7 weeks, his mental pathways had grown accustomed to Pavel’s sensory input patterns — much quicker than he had initially anticipated. He was fond of the boy, and if they had met under different circumstances he would have gladly introduced him to his old friends and invited him to attend one of Riker’s renowned poker nights. Perhaps some day, in the distant future...

    ‘Ah, I see. Did you manage to shake them off?’ he enquired placidly.

    Chekov’s active affiliation with an individual the Federation deemed highly volatile and extremely dangerous had automatically turned him into a menace to society as well. Perhaps one of the locals, or one of the law enforcers had recognised his face from the news flashes that frequently littered the many screens in people’s abodes, and consequently decided to pursue him to locate the android’s sanctuary.

    ‘Did you procure the supplies you required?’ Data asked curiously; although he could go months without nourishments, which came in the form of his bio-lubricants, Pavel could not.

One fleeting glance at Pavel might be enough for someone to think that he's made a foolish decision or he has been corrupted and led on by these dangerous synthetics, for he is too young to really appreciate the ramifications of his actions. At only nineteen years old, already two years out of the academy and with such a bright future blazing on the horizon, how could he possibly understand that he had thrown this all away to become a person of interest—a radical—just as dangerous to the population as the people he was advocating for?

Before the academy, he'd carved a road of numerous successes and academic achievements. Genius, they'd called him, accepted at fifteen, a full officer by seventeen.

A long, scrutinising look at Pavel would reveal near-unrivalled intelligence burning behind the green of his eyes and a determination to match. It would reveal a man who understood exactly what he was doing, who sat and thought extensively about it and chose this path nevertheless.

He had no regrets. Not even when it meant that moving around could have him snapped up by the authorities and questioned—or worse—for information at any second, or all his security clearances were revoked, or even that the place they were calling home smelled of mildew, rot, and stale water.

Pavel busies himself with unpacking the bag he'd stuffed to capacity and laying everything out in what might have once been a nice kitchen if the elements hadn't gotten to it. He doesn't even attempt to bite back his scoff, throwing an incredulous look Data's way as he replies, "You cannot really believe I would let them follow me back here. I made sure to lose them in a crowd before coming back."

He always has been good at slipping away.

He purses his lips, thinking of the unsettling knifepoints of an unknown gaze he can still feel burying themselves in his shoulderblades.

"I did. There's no working replicator here, but these things will last for a while without going bad. This also made me think. Disguising ourselves while we're moving around here may not be a bad idea. If we are going to keep investigating this lead, it will help us. So I got these, too."

He pulls out a few sets of tightly folded clothes and hands one over to Data, a set of dark slacks and a shirt with a rather interesting pattern on it. "Don't ask where I got them, but these should fit you."

[glyphcaster]

@nxtleftbehxnd | starter for aurora!

Luz’s legs kicked beneath her as she sat on a tree branch, waiting for her next... victim was too mean. Target? Whatever! When she heard the faint sound of footsteps, she drew her legs up and pulled up her hood.

She pulled up her mask, and prepared for her jump. Azura flapped her wings next to her head. Luz spun her spell circle to muffle her breathing a little.

When her target (who had a strangely familiar face shape) came by, she canceled her spell and jumped down, creating a loud THUMP as she hit the ground. She held out her Palisman on a staff, grinning behind her mask. “Hey there, soldier. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll give me what I want without a fight.”

[dearestagony]

— ✿ tag dump. › reina kitagawa.

— ✿ nobody believed in me so i proved them all wrong. › reina's main verse.

— ✿ i'm living proof that when you set your mind to it you can accomplish anything. › reina's genin verse.

— ✿ i am going to be the worlds first blind ninja just you wait. › reina's academy verse.

— ✿ reina kitagawa. › in character.

— ✿ she is headstrong and determined the best of us. › reina's aesthetics.

— ✿ and that is my ninja way. › reina's headcanons.

— ✿ clouded eyes of blue and choppy brown hair. › reina's appearance.

[fleetinglotus]

To really prove his point that he was right, that she had to stop this folly, Kuragari (back then name), most definitely fought against Ei, in the plane of Euthymia for who knows how many years similar to when she had to against the Shogun puppet in her story quest.