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For those who are wondering: My “Robbery in Absalom” is over! And I have some drawings with Firuza! The original mission was to free the slaves, rob the house, find valuable papers. Here's more of the beginning of the whole thing and a bit of her conversation with the alchemist.

Yes, you could. And you got it right, they really did like each other. But unfortunately, my bad luck and a dice game with a terrible situation said a stubborn “No”. Although there were plenty of chances for everyone to save themselves. Hellknights. The Order of the Chain and the Order of the Pyre came from Cheliax.

It turns out that our alchemist Ruggiero is a revolutionary and a follower of Milani. Milani is the goddess of all those who fight against oppression and unjust rule. ...It was horrible. They caught us by the hand like children and we didn't last long. The situation itself caused me incredible despair.

We were miraculously released. One of our Tieflings signed a contract with the Devil for this (really with the Devil) + even under terrible interrogations Ruggiero did not give Firuza away (from all the thieflings she was the only one who was caught trying to protect the others).

It's sad. A bittersweet happy ending not only for me, but also for Firuza (I actually cried at the end).

Who would have told me before that a fun rakshasa created for fun would become a deeper and sadder character?! Again!

This is where Firuza's story ends. Will she go in search of her roots and relatives, or maybe her plans will become much grander? I don't know. But now she will be troubled by herself and her mistakes, and finally have a reason to meet her brother after all these years.

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The game now supports new languages, including Italian. I'm incredibly happy that there will now be new faces in the community!

Now I'm a fan of the Italian variation of the word "Hellknight" - Cavaliere Infernale.

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Lizard husbando gift

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and for today, here's my commission from @the-raging-tempest of her oc lairel! i went wild with rendering the hair and i think it turned out really pretty

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Jasper National Park, Canada by Sergey Pesterev

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Song of Elysium (Reprise)

my own ending slide for Georgies run, and he finally gets to not only bring all his friends home to meet his family, but also wed his lover. no spoilers

Many years after the closing of the Worldwound, several people of note were seen travelling towards a quiet part of the continent, among them, Count Daeran, accompanied by the teifling Woljif, was seen venturing in a gaudy carriage, and the knight errant Seelah was in the company of The Eagle Watches Tirabades in a contrastingly humble carriage.

The small hamlet they ventured to, along with other less notable to the general populace but still important figures, such as an Ember and her crow Soot, and many wandering bards and worshipers of Desna, including one Arueshalae, to all manner of creatures, large, small, and of all natures and alignments, welcomed them all with open arms, opening barns and laying down bedrolls by the dozen.

The hamlets Headwoman greeted the travelers with special joy, and the half orc woman beside her shed her gruffness for one night, and a shepherd normally so isolated on his hills, was smiling with joy with the rest of them.

Anyone travelling past would have thought it was a festival, those knowing the holidays of Desna would say it was for a ritual of stardust, and in many ways it was both. Taking place on the summer solstice, people and creatures from across the continent joined together, and stood in one location, the first time all were assembled since the final attack on the Worldwound.

Together they laughed, weeped, sang and danced, for all those they had saved, and all those who made it possible, but could not be saved themselves. At night they lit giant bonfires, the light of which cast the whole valley in warm glow, and once the light died, gemstones fell to the earth and were scattered in the wind, taking flight on currents unnatural, accompanied by a flourish of azure butterflies, and several winged creatures, all dancing through the shimmering air. 

As this happened, two men cloaked in white kissed, each holding the other with hands worn from the strings of both bows and fiddles, and stained with a rainbow of colours from paint, respectively, as the people around them cheered at the love found in the corruption of the Worldwound.

Flowers sprung from the ground, and the song of Elysium rang through the valley, calming the hearts of everyone in it. The song was taken up by an eclectic variety of singers, musicians, and those with little skill in either, but as all the sounds wove together, there was never a more beautiful song than it.

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kitsune family comm

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Ok, for the Pathfinder Winter prompts, of course I'm gonna ask Ritual of Stardust for Siavash and Woljif! If someone else has already asked that, how about Kissing in the Snow?

@silversiren1101 I grouped these together (great minds you two) and threw in the kiss in the snow. Thanks for the asks 🥰

Pathfinder Winter Solstice prompts here

*TW: minor references to drugs and alcohol

The Abyss had robbed them of six precious months they could never make up for. The only silver lining Siavash could think of was that one of those months was Lamashan, so this year he didn’t have to organize Iomedae’s Ascension festival. He had a better idea.

“It organizes itself,” he told Anevia excitedly. “You just whisper the word on the wind, and people show up.”

“What about food? Latrines? Sec—”

“They bring everything they need, and always a little extra to share. They clean up after themselves, and anyway it’s a battlefield. There’s no money allowed—it’s all gifts and barter, so no need for tariffs or regulations.”

“Security, was what I was going to say.”

“Yes, all right, I’ll concede that part.”

“Which will be my job.”

“I’ll help,” he shrugged. “Come on, Nev, it’ll be fine.”

She heaved a sigh. “Morale could use a boost, I suppose.”

“Well, that’s for sure.”

Thus it was that a few short weeks later the biggest Ritual of Stardust ever not organized began to gather on the flat, blasted plains south of Drezen. Festive carriages rolled in pulled by ponies in jingling, feathered harnesses. Colorful tents were erected full of arts and crafts and music. Mobs of people in all sorts of bizarre costumes spontaneously formed to dance, cook soup, dig privies or build whimsical, towering, temporary statues out of scrap wood and stone.

The Worldwound in the middle of Kuthona was swept with a dry, stinging cold wind so brittle and insidious Siavash feared people would turn away, but Desna’s gentle hand diverted the wind and tucked insulating clouds like a down comforter over the sky, and the day before the bonfires it began to snow like a soft dream.

On the longest night of the year, thousands had come to gather around the bonfire and sing songs to the Great Dreamer, to join hands in the dark, full of hope at the turning point when day would outstrip night again at last, just as the Fifth Crusade too seemed to be rising from its ashes: the Return from the Abyss. But most all, they came to party.

With his new wings, Siavash blended into the crowd of costumed revelers effortlessly. He mingled with the Free and not-so-free Crusaders, marginally succeeded in getting Lann to relax, sang a few songs, and spent some time in Daeran’s extravagant tent until things got a little too wild even for his taste, and then went in search of Woljif.

He was in the main tent by a mulled wine stand, deep in conversation with another tiefling, a hand on one hip and the other thrown over the top of the wine vendor’s awning in an unselfconscious, casually graceful pose, tail darting back and forth. A cunning smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. There was a streak of glitter on his right horn he was probably unaware of. Looks like Aivu snuck up on him.

Siavash watched him and felt that little thrill—like he had caught a falling star or a rare butterfly, something elusive and unique: this man so different from himself, so full of surprises, so clever and charming and hopeful and brave.

He couldn’t wait another minute. He dove in and seized him around the waist. “Sorry, it’s urgent,” he apologized over his shoulder to the other tiefling as he threw a fur-lined cloak over his shoulders and guided him out of the tent.

“Chief I was in the middle of—”

“I said it was urgent.” He took Woljif’s hand and they tramped through the snow to the huge central bonfire, now burnt low, and stood for a while watching the sparks rise and the snowflakes fall against a starless velvet backdrop of night.

“So… urgent, huh?” Woljif asked presently.

Siavash produced a pouch from his pocket and poured a small handful of sparkling red dust into his palm.

“That’s not some a’ Daeran’s stash is it? I wouldn’t if I were you, chief.”

“No. It’s a star ruby, ground to dust.”

“Wait, what? A ruby? How much is that—”

“Don’t worry.” Siavash put an arm around his shoulders and held up the handful of twinkling ruby shards. “Make a wish.”

Woljif shook his head but couldn’t repress a smile. When the chief was like this, you just had to roll with it. “If you say so.”

They looked at each other in silence for a long moment in the firelight, blinking away snowflakes.

Then Siavash tossed the dust into the wind and it shimmered against the night sky like a million crimson stars.

“I have something for you.” Siavash was smiling like an excited child. “But you’ll have to pick my pocket to get it.”

“You’re such a flake. Fine.” Woljif’s hand darted into his pocket, and came out… with the Moon of the Abyss. Just like that day he’d hidden it in that Andoren sap’s pocket so the Thieflings wouldn’t find it, only this time, he was the one in for a surprise.

The clouded demonic crystal he had destroyed in the Abyss had been replaced with a clear, bright sapphire like a spring morning.

“Chief—how much did this cost? Are you crazy?”

“You’re welcome.”

“Sorry—Siavash, I—” Woljif had to grab him and bury his face in his neck for fear someone would think the snowflakes melting on his cheeks were something else. Siavash felt him trembling with emotion.

A clear blue sky—freedom, instead of domination. An azata’s legacy, instead of a demon’s.

When he felt he could trust his voice again he pulled back and clasped the familiar silver necklace around his neck. His eyes were shining. “Thanks.”

Siavash brushed snowflakes from his cheek and drew his mouth in. Their lips touched tenderly.

“Hey hey, you two! Come on in out of the snow, you’re gonna catch your death,” Seelah beckoned loudly, her color high, beer sloshing from the mug in her hand.

In embarrassment they broke off.

She threw her arms around both of them, completely spilling her beer this time. “Now, this is my first Starlight—”

“Stardust.”

“—Stardust, and I’m sold. Is there such a thing as a paladin of Desna? Oh shit, don’t tell anybody I said that.”

“Don’t worry, I think Iomedae slammed the door when she left.”

Seelah grinned at the two of them. “So, heh, you two gonna make this official or what?”

There was an awkward silence.

“Contracts, priests, vows,” said Siavash. “Way to kill romance, Seelah.”

A little too quickly, Woljif agreed. “Yeah, who needs that stuff. I’ve had my share a’ the literal ball and chain. I’m done with that. Imagine, we’d be at each other’s throats about doin’ the dishes and takin’ out the trash, and…”

As he chattered, Siavash and Seelah exchanged a glance.

“Romance, yeah,” Seelah said, barely repressing a laugh. “Well, you can still throw a party, right?”

“Seelah, I think you spilled your beer.”

“Oh yeah. Better go fill up, eh?”

“Yeah,” Siavash said. “We’ll be right behind you.”

They watched as she half-stumbled off through the snow.

“Boy, Seelah sure does put her foot in it sometimes, I swear,” Woljif was complaining. “Remember that one time at the Half Measure with Elan, and she was layin’ into me about deserting and Jannah was sittin’ right there—”

“Woljif, stop talking for a second.”

“What?”

Siavash took a deep breath. It was not something he had ever contemplated. Simply not in his nature. But the look that had passed across Woljif’s face—halfway between hope and panic, like a puppy about to catch the cat he’d been chasing—and he knew he had to do it.

He was afraid his voice would sound strangled but he forced it out: “Do you, uh, do you want to?”

Woljif turned the deepest shade of crimson he had ever seen him. He swallowed hard, looking past Siavash, eyes going glazed for a moment.

“Nah. Nah, I’m good. You?”

“You know you have my heart.”

Woljif grinned. “Contracts are for suckers.”

“I know, right? And devils.”

“Thanks for askin’.”

“I’m so glad you said no,” Siavash laughed. “I love you so much.”

Woljif threw his arms around him and held him tight. It was weird, almost like that wish stuff actually worked.

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Maybe one day.

Anyway, 21 Kuthona, the winter solstice, has several holidays and this is my contribution for Desna’s Ritual of Stardust. I’m only a day late on this so I think I did a pretty good job on timing overall.

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Updated introduction after the redesign for Celia, one of my jojos part five OCs! adult/Muro version coming soon- and the writing is in plain text under the read more<3

i have a longer version of the writing, which covers her life and especially her forced decent into the criminal world in more in depth, posted here, you can read the fics on ao3 here, and this is her post redesign art tag, and this her main tag[both shared with Muro, her as adult]

Celia "Muro" D'Oro mechanic/student/caretaker/fighter

She/her Sexuality: Sapphic Country of residence: Italy Birth Country/Nationality: Egypt/Egyptian

An Egyptian immigrant who came to Italy with her mother as a child, Celia was forced to grow up too fast and start working illegally as a mechanic by the poverty her family lived in.

Her school life is made hellish by her strong dyslexia and her teachers discrimination, but Celia finds friendship in a group of girls also ostracized for various reasons, Elena, Dina, Russo and Cherry, as well as her classmate Conficcare and Elenas friend and later Conficcares boyfriend Tesoro, and they work together to protect each other, and maybe one day escape the poverty they live in.

Despite everything on her shoulders, Celia tries her best to fight for others and call out injustice like her mother, her most endearing and worrying trait, though she is forced to give in and stay silent again and again for her own safety, even as it makes her heart ache She cares deeply for her friends and family, taking a increasingly larger role in raising her brother as her mother gets ill.

Over time she is forcibly dragged further into Napules criminal underbelly, her desperation and struggles with education used to manipulate her as she is forced to decide between whats right, and keeping herself, her family and her friends alive, resulting in her getting a stand and becoming part of one of Passiones district squad, and locking away the passion for justice that used to drive her, instead fueling herself on desperation, vowing to do anything to keep those she cares for alive, even if it means damning herself even further.

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Not only are the Comedy Wildlife Photo Award winners all excellent, the banner announcements are glorious when taken out of context.

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they are on a date

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The Wicker Man (1973) dir. Robin Hardy

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I like the contrast between the softness of affection and the intensity of desire

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Killing people I don't even know/ I was trained to give them that fatal blow/ Just take orders I don't ask/ Carry out my savage task/ Killing Machine decides your fate/ Get out of my way before it's too late

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tagged by @jean-dieu, @the-raging-tempest, @gutterspeak thank you! 💕

Favorite color: burgundy

Last movie: The Substance

Last TV show: for closure’s sake I felt compelled to watch S4 of ST (the curse) and I could write an essay on everything that bugs me but at least there’s Eddie. Also finally got around to watching The Good Place.

Sweet/spicy/savory: holiday cookie time ��

Last thing I googled (besides work stuff): vegetarian holiday meals / pathfinderwiki’ed “alcoholic beverages”

Current obsession: collab writing! I’m also getting invested in my new PWOTR gold dragon OC. Yesterday he and Seelah were having a shouting match in my mind. I may need to start posting about him.

Looking forward to: winter break starts today woohoo freedom!! And a couple comms on the way...

Currently reading: A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles. Another thing I’m looking forward to: finishing it. ugh

Last song: Metallica - Master of Puppets

tagging no pressure @dragonologist-phd, @fantastic-mr-corvid, @kaleido-scope-lady, @dmagedgoods, @goddevouringserpent, @undyingembers and anyone else who wants a free tag!