#would Death herself grant him new organs if he lost vital ones?

[littledreamling]

I saw a post joking that Death wasn’t the only Endless in the family that helped Dream find a boyfriend, which got me thinking: at what rate does Time (Dream’s father) affect Hob?

We know it does; his hair grows (presumably, or else he’s been REALLY careful with his haircuts over these 600 years) and it’s not explicitly stated but we can assume that he has some sort of healing ability, but my question is this: does he have any regenerative powers?

We’ve never seen Hob suffer from any injury that would require regeneration; he’s never (that we know of) lost a limb or been decapitated. Yes, he’s been drowned and starved to death, but neither of those deal a loss of anything. However, it’s assumed that his body will do anything it takes to survive, so could he survive decapitation? We have to assume so, but the ability to do so would put him at a much higher level than just an immortal human. If he does have regenerative powers (which, logically, we have to assume he has something of the sort), that has a lot of implications, too. Can he have piercings without the holes immediately closing the second he takes the jewelry out? Can he have tattoos? Could he be a perpetual organ donor if he wanted to be? I don’t particularly need official answers, but it would be a fun concept to explore

[thetygre]

30 Day Monster Challenge 2 - Day #15: Favorite Great Old One/Monster God

1.      Nurgle the Great Unclean One (Warhammer)

I think you can tell a lot about a person by knowing which of the Chaos Gods is there favorite. I’m not saying there’s a right answer, but I’ve always been a Nurgle man myself. Nurgle is more than just the daemon god of disease and entropy; he’s the god of the value of life. Nurgle loves all of his children equally, down to the smallest virus. It can be hard for people to accept that, to realize that they have as much cosmic significance as a single-cell organism, but that’s just because they don’t realize how much love the Urfather has for that little cell. In Nurgle’s phlegmatic embrace, all of us are equal, regardless of race, gender, or cell count.

Nurgle asks only that you spread the love he has so willingly given, so that all may be his children. Death and disease are natural parts of life; we struggle to fight them so, but they always come back to us. Through Nurgle, we may exalt in the power of pus and the greatness gangrene. We grow stronger with each infection, and every tumor is a sign of endurance. We do not die when the Plague Bearer calls us; we merely transform for the vermin and bacteria that consumes us, to be reborn in the eternal cycle. Truly, Grandfather Nurgle moves in wondrous ways.

2.      Ithaqua the Wind Walker (August Derleth)

It should come as no surprise that the god of all wendigos is one of my favorite Great Old Ones. The Ithaqua Cycle is probably the best thing August Derleth wrote, for what ever that’s worth. Ithaqua is just such a chilling god; the image of some skull-faced giant thing turning around a mountain is the stuff of nightmares. Ithaqua is the primal urge inside life, the need to do anything to survive in an unrelenting environment. He walks in the cold places of the world, but also in that cold space between worlds, spreading his cannibalistic madness from world to world. Ithaqua himself seems hardly necessary, or the countless wendigos that follow him. It’s the chaos and horror he causes between people in a desperate situation, pitting one man against the other and breaking taboos until only the strongest is left. Ithaqua is the cold and brutality of the North personified.

3.      Lolth the Queen of the Demonweb Pits (Dungeons and Dragons)

Lilith is so pastiche these days. You know where the real rebellious queen of evil action is at? Spiders, man, and Lolth is the Spider Queen. Lolth has been in Dungeons and Dragons since the beginning. Wherever the dark elves go, Lolth goes too, like any deity, and her absence from a setting is noticeable. She’s one of D&D’s greatest villains, and countless adventurers have lost their lives in the Demonweb Pits. Her entire realm is an arachnid hell crawling with spiders as small a mite to as big as her spider-golem palace. Lolth is an entity of contrasts; her priesthood is a strict matriarchy, but Lolth herself is absolutely insane. It’s hard to tell if there’s anything left of the elf goddess she used to be. Beneath the layers of scheming, beauty, racially motivated hatred, and plans to conquer the known multiverse lies a beating heart of blind hunger, an overwhelming instinct to survive by strength alone.

4.      Saaitii the Hog (William Hope Hodgson)

Saaitii is actually what got this particular entry in the challenge. See, I wanted to do just ‘Top 10 Great Old Ones’, but then I was worried that not everybody would know what the Great Old Ones are and it’s kind of an arbitrary category that Lovecraft wanted people to change from story-to-story for fun, so then I just broadened the category to ‘monster gods’ and now here we are. Anyway, Saaitii is a monster that William Hope Hodgson’s occult detective Thomas Carnacki encountered in his monster-hunting stories. The locals tell Carnacki that Saaitii is the ghost of a boar wrongfully killed long ago, but Carnacki suspects that it’s an extradimensional something using the spirits of dead hogs to try and come through.

First off, I just want to know what William Hope Hodgson’s deal with pigs was. This is explicitly his second pig monster story, following the pig men from The House on the Borderlands. But the usage of that aesthetic is definitely refreshing a little unsettling. In an age of meme-tentacles, we need new and different cosmic horrors. Pigs can be disturbing; we think of them as cute at best and filthy at worst, but rarely evil or malevolent. Even the meanest boar has a kind of nobility to it. But the Hog brings up images of mindless, vicious cruelty, dark things in the forest and filth. The concept of a higher life form like some extradimensional whatsit coming into our world through ‘lower’ lifeforms strikes a little close to the karmic bullseye for some, turning the tables on humanity and reminding us that in the eyes of the cosmos, we’re just so much more food.

5.      Ogdru Jahad the Seven Who Are One (Hellboy)

You’d think there’d be more dragons on the list, but so far it’s just the one. Seven. 369. Whatever. The Ogdru Jahad are the Hellboy/BPRD universes Great Old Ones, and the source of… a sizable amount of trouble there. Not all of it, but most of it. At the dawn of time, the Sons of God formed the mud of creation into seven great dragons that were filled with the shadow of the moon, for whatever reason. Things would have been fine and dandy there, but one little angel named Satan, for reasons that are still unclear, took the fire of God and filled the dragon with it, giving the Ogdru Jahad life. The Ogdru Jahad birthed their 369 offspring, and the angels had to fight them off before the whole Creation thing could get rolling. From that day on, every human culture has been warned about the Ogdru Jahad, and they have been ingrained in the human consciousness as the Dragon, from Tiamat to the Beast of Revelations.

It’s a nice fusion of Judeo-Christian Biblical lore and cosmic horror. I honestly don’t think it would work if it wasn’t for the fact that Satan is notably absent from the Hellboy series and, as of BPRD: Hell on Earth, the Ogdru Jahad are winning, where even their smallest children can cause natural disasters. I love conflating the image of dragons with cosmic monsters. Cthulhu as Leviathan, flying polyps as oriental dragons, hunting horrors as wyverns; it’s a direct play to the archetype that both types of creatures fill. The Ogdru Jahad illustrate that perfectly, simultaneously something the most modern of cosmic horror and the most ancient of monsters.

6.      Flowey the Flower (Undertale)

Flowey’s final form gets in on design alone. There aren’t a lot of monster designs that actually freak me out, but Flowey is just horrible. Of course that’s also because it’s a genius bit of sprite animation, with the usage of textures contrasting so hard with the rest of Undertale. It looks like something that ate its way inside out from at least three Madoka witches. The claws, the eyes, the mouths; it all makes something perfectly awful and abhorrent. And, of course, the music. I actually think Flowey’s boss theme rates pretty low compared to other Undertale boss themes, but the title is just something else. How are you supposed to do better than “Your Best Nightmare”?

7.      Rom the Vacuous Spider (Bloodborne)

It’s Rom. C’mon. Look, I know she’s not actually a Great One; she’s Kin, like Mergo’s Wet Nurse. But look at her. When I think, “What’s my favorite eldritch monstrosity boss from Bloodborne?” I keep coming back to Rom. Just look at her dumb, stupid face. One of her attacks is just falling over. That’s the most relatable a video game has been for me since I was an undergrad. Rom doesn’t want to hurt anybody; she’s just a giant, stupid bug/fungus thing. You could just walk away, man. You could just leave poor Rom alone. She’s doing her best trying to grant people eyes and you’re over here hassling her. In front of her kids, man. Just leave her alone.

8.      Moder the Bastard of Loki (The Ritual)

Y’know, as a jotun, this guy could have been on the giant list, but I feel like its design and concept are too unique for that. This is a special monster, a kind of revelatory creature. Its design is just out of this world, blending human and stag and those creepy little eyes. But there’s so much more to it than just a great design. Its ability to create illusions essentially gives it access to shapeshifting, tying it to the actual mythology of Loki and Norse giants. The actual ritual to appease Moder, where it picks a person up and impales them on a tree, is reminiscent of the story in Norse mythology where Odin impales himself on the World Tree Yggdrasil to gain the knowledge of the runes. Before a person is killed, Moder shows them something precious to them, or a defining moment in their life; it is, in its own way, giving the person a revelation about what is vital in their own universe. Moder, like any good monster, delivers a message about the meaning of reality to the people it encounters.

9.      Set the Slithering God (Conan the Barbarian/Marvel Comics)

I like this comic book version of a god. The actual Egyptian deity Set is fairly complex, and actually examining his character and divine portfolio gives insight into how Egypt’s culture changes over time. Comic book Set, on the other hand, is the god of snake villains. He is the snake villain to end all snake villains. Marvel cooked him up for their old Conan comics based off an offhand mention in one of Robert E. Howard’s stories because they needed Conan to have a nemesis. So Conan’s nemesis, the arch-wizard/priest Thoth Amon, worships the dark god Set, regardless of the fact that Thoth Amon appeared exactly once in the very first Conan story. Now, it’s fifty years later and Set is apparently one of Marvel’s Primordial Ultra-Deities.

It’s that mixture of traditional myth and the cosmic I like again, though this time it’s less H.P. Lovecraft ‘cosmic horror’ and more Jack Kirby ‘cosmic action’; new gods and a new mythology for a new medium, but still the same old story. Set is the Serpent, like the Ogdru Jahad, manifesting in human lore as everything from the serpent in Eden to Leviathan. He was the first murderer, able to absorb the power of any other god he ate, and even today he seeks reptile supremacy. Wherever there is Set there are snakes, enacting the cosmic cycle of death and rebirth while lounging in decadence.

10.   Haos the Ultimate Bio-Weapon (Resident Evil 6)

… We’re going to do this now, and then we’re never going to do it again. Because we’re going to talk about something good that was in Resident Evil 6. One of the most infuriating things about RE6 is that it had some of the most incredible monster designs in the Resident Evil series. Great designs. The kind of monster designs that other games only wish they could achieve. And they were wasted on one of the worst games the series has produced. One of those designs was Haos, the apparent ultimate bio-weapon engineered by (ugh) Neo-Umbrella in a secret facility at the bottom of the ocean good lord I’m putting this on a list with William Hope Hodgson.

Haos deserves a better game; its design is unnecessarily fantastic. It looks like a ningen crossed with a jellyfish. It’s some far future stage of human evolution driven to its most extreme and bizarre form. There’s something forlorn and sad about it, but also beautiful and powerful. Its concept is purely apocalyptic; Haos will rise from the bottom of the ocean before it finally dies and dissolves into a gas that will spread across the world, turning humanity into zombies and monsters. Herald of a world of gods and monsters and all that. Even its name is kind of cool; ‘Haos’ is literally Siberian for ‘chaos’. And every day I have to wake up with the knowledge that this wonderful, horrible monster was stuck at the end of a Resident Evil 6 campaign. It’s depressing. So here’s to good old Haos; at least here you’ll get some respect.

[shannaraisles]

Set In Darkness

Chapter: 43 Author name: ShannaraIsles Rating: M Warnings: Canon-typical violence and threat Summary: She’s a Modern Girl in Thedas, but it isn’t what she wanted. There’s a scary dose of reality as soon as she arrives. It isn’t her story. People get hurt here; people die here, and there’s no option to reload if you make a bad decision. So what’s stopping her from plunging head first into the Void at the drop of a hat?

Senior Moment

"They arrive daily, from every settlement in the region ..."

The familiar line of dialogue caught Rory's attention. She glanced up from her notes, unable to keep herself from smiling as she saw Cassandra and Kaaras standing nearby, watching the newest arrivals greeting those who milled about in the lower courtyard. Come to think of it, there were more people in evidence all of a sudden. Not that Skyhold didn't have a surprisingly large population already, but usually everyone was busy at some task or other. It was slightly strange to see so many just loitering, but then, why wouldn't they? Today was the day the Inquisitor would be named and invested. Everyone wanted to be the first to know who their new leader would be.

Ever since the news had been spread that an Inquisitor had been chosen, the subject had been on everyone's lips. It was a way to pass the time as they worked, the debate going back and forth as centuries of neglect and disrepair slowly began to clear away under determined hands. They'd taken possession of the fortress two weeks ago, and already the place was beginning to resemble the home base she remembered from the game. Most people were still living in tents, both here and in the city below, the courtyards crowded with canvas walls. There were injured still to care to - mostly soldiers who had taken damage while clearing out the spiders - but far fewer of them than she had expected. Some were dying, and she was hoping for an unexpected cure; others just needed care to rally and recover. And if, as had happened on occasion, she went to a dying man or woman only to find their throat neatly split, it didn't alarm her. She knew Cole was lurking around here, drawn by the pain and his need to help.

"Last chance to place your bet, Ror," the familiar cadence of Rylen's Starkhaven brogue drew her attention. She looked up to find her friend grinning down at her.

"And I maintain it's not gambling when we all know who it's going to be, anyway," she pointed out with a smile, setting her notes aside to stand with him. There was definitely a crowd forming now. She nudged Rylen teasingly. "What I really want is to know is this ... when are you going to ask her?"

The captain actually blushed, glancing away with a secretive smile. "Tonight," he told her quietly. "I called in a few favors. I want it to be perfect."

"You silly sod." She laughed affectionately. "It'll be perfect no matter how you do it. Because it's you, and she loves you, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Aye, but she's a noble, Rory," he countered, nervous and uncertain. "I've no way to offer her the life she's used to."

"The life she's used to is the one she's been living for the last six months," Rory reminded him pointedly, glancing up as a murmur from the crowd around them heralded the arrival of Leliana on the parapet, bearing the sword of the Inquisitor. "A life with you, no matter the hardship."

"I can't give her the luxuries she deserves," he fretted, shaking his head with a frown.

"You're not listening," she chuckled, rolling her eyes at her friend.

"No, I'm not," he agreed, his inked face creasing in a sheepish smile. "But don't stop telling me I'm a silly sod. It helps."

Rory snorted with laughter, any chance to answer lost as first Cassandra, then Kaaras, came into view. A series of cutscenes that lasted about ten minutes on the computer, and had actually taken closer to a month in reality, were about to reach their culmination in the acceptance of a Qunari as the leader of the Inquisition. It was a satisfying moment in the game - at least, she thought it was; it had been a very long time since she'd even seen a computer - but after all this time, all this work; after all the prejudice and violence and plain stupidity he had faced, it was a privilege to watch as Kaaras Adaar accepted the honor and responsibility he was offered. To be one of many who cheered with true enthusiasm to celebrate him as their Inquisitor.

"So," Rylen said as the crowd dispersed around them in the aftermath of the investiture, "d'you really think I've a chance? Truthfully now."

Her face aching from her own smiling cheers, Rory turned to her friend with honest eyes. "I wouldn't be encouraging you if I didn't," she assured him with absolute certainty. "Just be yourself, Ry. That's the man she loves, not some mask you might put on to impress her."

"It's disgusting how you always speak sense when it comes to my relationship," he informed her fondly. "And give up no details about your own."

"It's a gift," she drawled, bending to catch her notes before a gust of wind could scatter them all over the yard. "You'd better scoot before she comes by, or you're going to blurt."

"Aye," he agreed, flashing her a warm grin. "Make a wish for me tonight, Ror. I need all the help I can get."

"Anything for you, captain."

He chucked her cheek gently as he turned away, leaving her smiling to herself as she sat back down in the afternoon sunlight to concentrate on her writing. It was still cold - still winter - but somehow the sun beat down warmer on Skyhold. She had no idea why; it could be a consequence of the altitude, or it could be magic. Whichever it was, she wasn't complaining. A little warmth after too many days spent freezing was more than welcome. Summer might not be so pleasant, but she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

So Rylen was going to propose to Evy. About time. Rory had done her level best to plant the idea and encourage him; it was rather exciting to know he was going through with it. She was in no doubt as to what Evy's answer would be, and despite the younger woman's sometimes retiring nature, she also knew her friend would fight tooth and nail to make sure no one took Rylen away from her. It was truly lovely to see their relationship progressing ... but it made her wonder a little about her own. She loved Cullen - hell, she'd been halfway there before any of this had happened - and for the first time in her life, she had no doubts about whether the man she loved, loved her. But where did they go from here? She still had no idea if this was really real, and even if it was, should she be making a life with him? She might disappear at any moment. What would that do to him? A loss like that might set him back years, but it would be salvageable if she was only his lover. Wouldn't it? Wherever she might end up, her worry was all for Cullen. But if she had the choice ... This was home now. He was her home. She'd give anything to stay.

The sound of a throat clearing got her attention as a shadow fell across her lap. She lifted her head to find Roderick waiting patiently for her acknowledgement.

"Chancellor," she greeted him politely. "How can I help you?"

"I believe the more appropriate question is, how may I help you?" he countered, taking her invitation to sit with gratitude. The wound he had taken in Haven was almost healed, but he needed time to rebuild his strength and fitness. "I have been granted a position within the Inquisition. The commander believes my talents are best suited to logistics."

That did make sense. For years before the Conclave, Roderick Asignon's life had revolved around calm and order, the organizing of the Divine's day-to-day. They had a quartermaster to procure equipment and supplies, but what happened to all that when it was delivered to the Inquisition, especially if it was not specifically military? Putting a man who clearly excelled at keeping things moving smoothly in charge of such things seemed like a very good idea. Rory felt a swell of pride in Cullen for thinking of it.

"I'm pleased you've changed your mind about us," she said discreetly. "About Kaaras."

"I was wrong," the cleric said simply in reply. "I will apologize to the Her - the Inquisitor, when I can. But for now, I am gathering information on the needs of the fortress and the city. As you have been named officially as the senior healer, it is to be assumed that you know what you are lacking."

"Just about everything, to be honest," Rory told him with candid resignation, ignoring the comment on her promotion. She hadn't wanted it, but no one would let her argue about it. "Our limited resources are running low already. I can make you a list, if you'd like."

"That would be most useful." Roderick nodded as he spoke, evidently approving of her suggestion. "I understand that you and a small staff will be remaining in the fortress. Do you keep contact with the healers in the city?"

She snorted wryly. "I don't have much choice - they send me daily reports," she admitted in a rueful tone. "Whatever I put on the list is needed down there, as well."

"Then you are able to put together an order that will cover the needs of both the fortress and the city?" he queried, impressed when she nodded confidently. "You are more organized than I had given you credit for, healer."

Uncertain whether that was a veiled insult or not, she ignored it. "Even if we had all the resources, what we desperately need are apothecaries and alchemists," she confessed worriedly. "We're capable of making the potions ourselves, of course, but it takes us away from our patients."

"I see." The chancellor frowned, his expression pensive. "I did not realize we were lacking such a vital asset."

"In Haven, we only had Adan and his assistant," Rory said, her eyes clouding as she remembered the alchemist's terrible death - a death he had suffered because his instinct had been to save her. "They ... they didn't make it."

"Let mine be the last sacrifice," he intoned softly, giving her a moment to compose herself before he spoke again. "We shall honor their loss with lives well-lived, healer. I will speak with Lady Montilyet about extending an invitation to the guilds. If you could put together a list of the supplies you need, I will liaise with the new quartermaster on your behalf."

"You could always buy direct from a reputable businessman."

Rory frowned as she looked at the source of that uninvited interjection. Seggrit had come out of Haven without a scratch on him, despite having been rescued from a burning building. And despite owing his life to Kaaras, he was still calling her friend an oxman behind his back, a man very much at home with racial slurs and the ways he could use them to best effect. Not only that, but she could have sworn he was following her around as they settled into Skyhold, always within earshot of her as she worked, always at the edge of her eye-line. The only time she didn't see him was when she curled up in her bedroll at night, and she had a sneaking suspicion that was because Cullen was invariably at her side.

Roderick gave him a cold look. "Such as you, I suppose?" he asked archly. "A man who listens blatantly to words not meant for him is hardly reputable. And you are no longer a recognized supplier to the Inquisition. We now have access to honest traders."

Seggrit flushed angrily, but held his tongue, casting an ugly glare at Rory as he stalked away. She shifted uncomfortably. She couldn't have said exactly why, but that man's presence was distinctly unwelcome to her. She didn't feel safe when he was around. At her side, the chancellor snorted at the merchant's retreat.

"What an odious toad of a man," he muttered, rising carefully to his feet. "I will return tomorrow for that list, healer. I trust that gives you enough time?"

"Plenty, chancellor, thank you."

"Well, then ..." he nodded to her animated in his pursuit of order. "Walk in the Maker's light."

Well, that was ... interesting. Rory glanced down at her notes, and groaned suddenly at the sheer amount of paperwork she had to do. Leliana wanted the names of the entire complement of healers and nurses; Cullen wanted a full accounting of the injured and their expected recovery times; Josephine was eager to know when they would be able to hold clinic for their visitors again; these notes needed to be written up and filed; and now she had a stock-list to compile as well. Good gods ... I'm not just sleeping with Cullen.

 I'm turning into him.