#;epitaph (queue)

[de11amorte]

#𝐃𝐄𝟏𝟏𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄 is an independent, private, and selective role-play blog based on the character 𝙻𝚄𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙸𝚂 𝙳𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙴 of the franchise 𝖣𝖱𝖠𝖦𝖮𝖭 𝖠𝖦𝖤: 𝑉𝐸𝐼𝐿𝐺𝑈𝐴𝑅𝐷. expect canon divergence as mun's lore knowledge is limited. malikai, me, is  21+. themes of demonic possession, gore, murder, &. organized crime will be referenced. please read rules before interacting !

   𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 • 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 • 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 • 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 • 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 • 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 / 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒

[lykorises]

tags /

[dailyadventureprompts]

Deity: Nerull, The One Who Sorts The Bones

It's said they found the god in the old tombs, in that forgotten quiet where long eras had worn away all the epitaphs. They drew in a breath of the still air and on their exhalation the god took flight into the world on vulture's wings. -The Silent Testimonies, book 1

A god not of death, but of the dead, Nerull presides those aspects of the mortal coil that lay beyond the Raven Queen's domain of mourning and memory. Someone must keep vigil for the departed long after their names have passed from the memories of the living, and so that duty falls to Nerull, who's chosen people are the spirits that have lingered in the world far longer than they were ever alive.

Beyond the dead, the vulture’s faithful are an eclectic lot. Itinerant gravetenders, scholars of forgotten tongues, Bonesetters who's experience with embalming helps them minister to the living.  To Serve Nerull you must first die, though this is often symbolic.

Unlike his fellow carrion-bird death god, Nerull's following does not frown on the use of necromancy, or the existance of undead. Ghost stories, whether vengeful or sorrowful are considered holy for the way their memory transcends time. The exception to this reverence of course are those trapped in suffering, and the "hungry" dead who feed on the living. Pain and want are after all the purview of life, and Nerull dispatches hunters and psychopomps to ease such spirits along their way.

Adventure Hooks:

While out on their travels the party encounters a procession of grey pilgrims, masked and shrouded, all silent save for the leader of their procession who carries a staff jingling with bells and welcomes the party to sit by his fire. He tells tale of conflicts across the realm, new and old, shared with her by her flock, and invites the party to walk along with them the next day if they wish to see something splendid. Should the party agree to such unsettling company they will walk until sunset when they come to a hillside dotted with loose stones, where one by one the pigrims will walk out and begin constructing their own cairns. The procession leader will thank them for their observance, not many are so kind to the unnamed dead, and will reward them with answers to five questions before departing on pallid wings.

After inexplicably befriending one of Nerull's agents (and possibly his daughter?) during one of their adventures, the party are liable to be put out when they don't see their favourite psychopomp for a while. Queue sightings of a foreboding spectre that's knocking one by one on the doors of the city at night, sending people into a panic. Imagine their surprise when it turns out this wraith has a message for them... their favourite omen of doom has been kidnapped by a necromancer and her boss (dad?) wants them to get her back.

The Vulture's work is never done, and this time he's decided to enlist the heroes for aid. Perhaps there's an undead spirit that needs to be quieted, perhaps there's something sinister at work in a ruin once consecrated in his name, perhaps it's just making sure they clean up after themselves after their latest stint of tombrobbing. Regardless, Nerull can offer the heroes something far beyond coin... closure with the dead, ensuring visitation with a loved one for some much needed closure.

Titles: The Vulture, The Bonesorter, Dead Ned, the weary reaper, the vagabond end.

Signs: Plants too dry to rot, the voices of the departed carried on the wind, skeletons rearranged into trees or gardens.

Symbols: A scythe or sickle entwined with flowers.

[titanfalling3]

here we go again lads

WELL. staff decided to eat my content. Again. so here we are. Again.

because both the larger TMA fandom and my blog were pretty dead when this happened, i haven't been especially invested in remaking – at the same time though, people have reached out regularly enough for me to want to leave an avenue of contact open that isn't ao3 comments. sorry for the delay in setting this up – losing everything again really sapped my energy

don't expect a whole lot of new posts here (though I do want to fix up things that were under cuts/etc where i can), but the inbox is open for a reason!

brief content directory below – a little lengthy, but like hell am i going to leave things under cuts to get deleted for the third time 💝💝

–

FICS:

my ao3

the Road to Damascus series [end!tim, S4 AU]

the Come What May series [danny stoker lives and there are so many consequences for that, S3-S5 AU]:

Head in the Lion's Mouth (danny POV)

Sail Close to the Wind (callum brodie POV) (yes I'm serious)

Devil May Care (melanie POV)

playlists: RtD [yt / spotify / lyrics]; HLM [yt / spotify / lyrics 1, 2]; the contortionist (OC) [spotify / lyrics]; fairgoers [yt / spotify / lyrics]; SCW [yt / spotify / lyrics]; epitaphs [yt / spotify / lyrics]; DMC [largely unfinished - spotify]; tim [spotify; lyrics]; martanny [spotify]

–

ART:

largely up to date at this point -- if you happen to have a reblog of something i don't already have here, just shoot me the link! it's very appreciated 💝

–

METAS:

thank G-D i had more of these saved in google docs than i thought

STOKERS:

a defense of s2/s3 tim

why desolation!tim blows and is wildly ooc

follow-up: yes, tim is marked by the desolation, but that doesn't make him an avatar of it

follow-up 2: how every avatar backstory we know insinuates the entity they later align with, and how tim's doesn't read as desolation -- instead, it's the end

what mag104 tells us about danny

tim is a dom. i'm right. (nsfw, not explicit)

tim is not a himbo good gd

on tim being able to remember sasha in small ways

OTHER:

thoughts on (and critique of) mag200

annabelle's perspective in mag197, and how the narrative dropped the ball with her as a character

the contradiction between robert smirke's taxonomy and the established themes of the show

how no one is obligated to forgive jon for his actions, and why that's okay

in defense of georgie cutting off jon after a point

why the others' distrust of jon after s3 is reasonable within the narrative, even if it's sad

stop fucking drawing martin skinny.

the fandom double-standard between WTGFs and gerrymichael

melanie as a femme

follow-up: more musing on femmelanie

please gd can people stop being weird about basira's development for two seconds

on the weird infantilization of and whump obsession towards jon, especially when depicted as disabled

if you remember a meta that isn't listed here, just say the word – i should be able to give you a summary even if i don't have the full thing anymore. if it's already in my queue, I'll go ahead and post it!

[hotvintagepoll]

Sorry, I just wanted to ask if you received my propaganda for Dolores Hart. You don't have to post it of course, I read the rules :) but I was just wondering if you haven't posted it because you received it and didn't get to it yet or chose not to, or because you didn't receive it at all. It's completely uselss propaganda, more of an epitaph really 😊😂

Since this is anonymous I have no idea—I've received some Hart propaganda and it's in the queue, but right now I'm more focused on getting the new polls up. Sorry!

[vocaloidsongpoll]

uh. here after a very belated realisation that a song submission needs. a song, specified, and not just a gushing of enthusiasm

i be the ferry submitter

please consider comfort zone by ferry :> it was a strong contended between this and 100 epitaphs, but while i prefer 100 epitaphs musicallyncomfort zone is able to stand independently more, i think

you are totally fine, honey!! reading your submission last night honestly brought a smile to my face. it's easily the sweetest, most passionate message i've ever received since i started this blog, and that's why i love to do this. i love getting to see how excited vocaloid fans get when they see their favorite song(s) posted, and i love seeing all of the support and gushing over these songs, no matter how short or how wordy they may be!

all of the songs you suggested have been added to the queue, don't worry!! it might take a little bit but they will be posted before the end of january!

never apologize for being passionate or enthusiastic about something, especially around here <3

[mysticallion]

A Tumblr Epitaph

I’m hopelessly in blog with you.

We’re mutuals ‘till the end.

You meme the very world to me:

A following followed friend.

So when that final post comes,

And my queue all fades to black,

Just have a little faith in reinblognation:

In a GIF I’ll be right back.

[dailyenglishvoca]

May I ask for "100 EPITAPHS" by Ferry? Thank you so much!!

I was literally just listening to that song, I'll queue it up!

[kylo-wrecked]

{ expanded from here }

No place is sacred but the work. Work is good and keeps him off the bag. Work comes with professional difficulties, sure, but that’s why Hannahs and Rachels create themselves in their own images, into bastard tamers and umpires. Just as Ben created himself in his own image- which gave him permission to kick Grant’s parameters under a sound desk and lid it like the Ark of the Covenant: do not look at God. 

Well. Ben cracked the Beregovsky. Curiosity and context couldn’t kill the cat, but bias could. Other morsels shared or stifled behind studio panels. He found “note urban infrastructure” particularly insulting and redlined it until the sounds bled together. And, he decided that by violin, Grant meant “strings.” He meant viola; he meant cello; double bass. He meant Charango for all Ben cared. Grant said don’t listen to Fiddler- as if, as if - but then that meant no fucking violins. 

What it did mean was long nights. Longer ones without Steven. Long rides with Jake (“do not sing at me ever”) and at least one vast, labyrinthine silence with Marc (oddly therapeutic). It meant getting into a long black car in a hospital alley. Empty blue mornings. It meant days running on dead phone batteries, Brendan/Brandon parleying between a quartet and Ben, who never met compatriots or crew; if he showed up in the flesh, it was armageddon; it was for Grant. It meant Rachel’s Rachel switching out liquor for Evian, Ben watching his hands disappear into the dark of a locked closet, and sticking his head in a freezer until half his face was rimed, hair coated in a fine layer of frost, shirt dripping.

Gargle, rinse, repeat. 

Skip lightyears into a future where Hannah, Grant, a child, and a housebroken, silent creature draped in Ben Solo’s skin and Ben Solo’s Gucci queue up in Steven’s place of worship and watch Man play God. He neither looks at anyone nor looks like he's not looking.

Where Hannah and Grant have practiced eyes, Ben's got the vision of a guy who dropped acid before the show. There’s pictures floating over the picture, epitaphs on headstones, stills and close-ups giving haunted, score giving bedside eulogy, aching like a bruise, hypothermic. Effective. Ringing in his left ear. 

Keeping his lenses focused on the lower-left screen corner for forty-five minutes yields a natural spring of paranoia that Ben finally caps them against. One-month blow-free (again) has granted him a special talent: “sleep” at will. Overwhelmed? “Sleep.” Pissed? “Sleep.” Otherwise affected? Dead to the world. He releases the seat arms and drifts. So long.

Brendan/Brandon once disturbed him in this quasi-state and got a projectile Sharpie in response. Steven gets “wet!” He gets his fistful of black shirt muscle, too. Scar over scar. He gets lips on his lids "again," measured, softer. Less tongue.

“You good with it?”

He gets a honed white elbow to the vest. No indication of Ben's hope or belief.

“The movie, asshole.” Whether Ben’s aware he’s just been watched or that he’s gazing at a certain distribution of “asshole” is its own opaque and lurking thing. “Does it outlive the vision yet?”

@silverjetsystm

[apsidioles]

Loosely organized database. Generally runs via queue.

Tag Directory

architecture / ceramics / cinematography / correspondence / embroidery / ephemera / epitaphs / fashion / fiber arts / film / #furniture /illustration / installation / interiors / graphic design / masks / metalwork / mixed media / objects / painting / performance / photography / poetry / sculpture / signs / stained glass /tattoos / words /🕯

abandoned places / advertisement / blood / bodies / candles / cityscape / colossi / eyes / fire /flora / fruit / graveyards & cemeteries / hands / lightning / movement / mythology / nature / neon / people / rain / religion /shrines / skeletons / skulls / snow / smoke / stairs / stone / storm / temples / transportation / water / windows / weapons /

aftermath / certain earth returned their love / the committee wants to see you dead / hunger / illumination / light & shadow / a look that's true / metal and concrete / my want is so wide i cannot cross it / nature reclaiming / pathways / ritual / a room in hell with only your name on the door / shelter from the storm / stained dyed colored covered / vast land / void / when there's nothing left to burn / wounds

by ANIMAL

by COLOR

art deco / art nouveau / a&c mvmt / atomic age / brutalist / byzantine / egyptian / egyptian revival / gothic / roman

[updatecrazy]

Wayfinder update 1.09 (0.1.4.0) is now rolling out on PS4 and PC (Steam). According to the official Wayfinder 1.09 patch notes, the latest update brings Echo Dust and the revamped inventory system. Apart from this, Dune Spice Wars patch 1.09 (0.1.4.0) also includes stability fixes. Previously, a major update 1.0 added a wealth of new content. Unfortunetly, players are facing a number of problems with the game. Today's Wayfinder patch will fix a few of these issues. Read more details below. Wayfinder Patch 1.09 Notes - September 23, 2023 The Echo Fusion system has been overhauled. Players can now break down their Echoes into Dust. Using the Dust, players can increase the Rank of their Echoes. Fixed a bug causing echoes to grant incorrect amounts of XP (now dust) in fusion Fixed a bug where Commander Creed’s echo showed a different cost to equip than the actual cost REMOVED: “Sort By Power” for Echoes. This has been removed until we implement more informative version of this sort. There is now an item limit for Echoes (300) and Accessories (100). See the announcements channel for more details. Added warnings for when players are approaching either item limit. When you have reached the limit, you cannot pick up anything else until you are back under the limit. Fixed Non-Romanized languages on keyboard being nonfunctional in social menu Fixed Tooth & Claw, and Epitaph displaying rifle or shotgun skins. Increase XP for Hunts by 3x and mini bosses in Expeditions by 1.5x Accessories are now able to be sold at Venge’s Shop in Skylight! WARNING: On first load of the SELL screen, equipped accessories display on the ALL panel and can be sold without warning the player. They do not appear on the ACCESSORY panel. All acquired Accessories will be sold at their intended cost per Accessory level. Fixed an issue causing players to be unable to fast travel inside of Lost Zones. Fixed an issue where players would be disconnected during an expedition or hunt with the Firebombs imbuement active. Fixed an issue where Helper Coins were not being rewarded to the player as expected after completing Lost Zone Expeditions via Helper Queue. Fixed an issue causing players to get stuck on a “Please Wait” screen while backing out of the Wayfinder Founder’s Pack menu while it was opening. Adjusted the priority quest to unlock Echo Fusion to unlock at the same time as the player unlocks the Echo system. Various localization updates and improvements. Fixed an issue where non-functional Echoes were populating in the Echo menu. Fixed an issue where the Accessory menu would display blank tiles. Fixed an issue causing Kyros' “Siphon Radiant” Ability buff to exceed its intended value of 10%. Reward Tower reward emote “Kiss of Venom” will appear in the players' inventory if/when unlocked. The player will see this in their inventory when equipped with Venomess. Fixed an issue causing Venomess’s Soothing Vapors Affinity Perk to not function. Soothing Vapors not correctly displays visual feedback that you are healing Fixed an issue causing Venomess' Ultimate to fire off in the wrong direction. Fixed an issue causing masteries to be locked on Venomess Night’s Maw Echo will always drop at its intended Echo type (“Rush”) and Level (15). Talon of Pyre’s Echo will always drop at its intended Level (30). Added the proper names of travel destinations to load screens. Emoting toward an animal in the Overlands zones will no longer cause the camera to target-lock onto that animal. Improved travel time to player housing instances

[olokosomolo]

Time comedia del arte

This is Natter Dam Dam Hoppa from My Homies Tv . I’m next to Jefferson medical center. Here with me Dr. Psyciamo Psyso. The one that link stupidity to a painful illness and call anyone that feels dumb or stupid to come and get body suite made of plaster.

Pp: yes, it was me. we can see a long line of dumb people and will increase during the evening and more idiots will come to get in plaster.

NDD: And why do people need to wrap themselves in plaster? Sounds strange. Agree with me, Dr. Psyso dumbass idea, coz how can stupidity be a painful disease?

Pp: Yes yeah Dam Hoppa dumbness can easily kill And also can kill, kill too

DDH: I see it’s also contagious

Pp: what?

Let me gives you an example. Week ago we got a dead guy name John a young guy that stick his head near The blades that mixed the dough at the food processor factory after one of the stuff said that the dough smells bad. Instead to shut down the mixer he stick his head, nose first. As the blade got his nose, quickly he became part of the dough, a bloody Jhon dough the speed of the blade pool him and he been grinding in second. The moron got the title John Dough.

DDHopa: Hehehe what a dumb this John Dough so no one saw him I mean what a perfect way to be Anonymous after John becomes Dough Himself. I guess his loved ones are going to bury Dough John and write an epitaph: Our love one, Dough John Dough love share but dies prematurely anonymous

Pp: and yesterday a young lady with burning wounds after she was babysitting two little babies she fell asleep while smoking and she burned the whole house with the babies she babysit. Immediately when she felt the smoke she couldn’t find her phone to call for help, so she ran down to call from the house phone. Instead it was the microwave buttons that she push to call for help. Until she realizes she calling using microwave the fire spread and the two babies, Barbie & Queue burned to death..

DDH: wait what, you telling me that the Young kids that burned named Barbie Queue ?

Pp: yes sir Korean twin, a boy and a girl. It was heartbreaking to watch BBQ parents moaning their lost twin, in particular their mom that cried: No mo BBQ all burned no mo no mo BBQ. And here in our Medical center we hold few stupid workers too. One nurse that heard the mom approached the morning mom, hugged her and said. It's ok you can come on the weekend I promise we're gonna make you BBQ, even better than the BBQ that burns, right after the invitation BBQ fell on the floor, fainted.

So as I already mentioned I recommend to anyone who thinks he is dumb enough to come and we will cover him head to toe with plaster.

DDH: so now I get it it’s painful disease when they practiced their stupidity then it becomes dangerous, nevertheless painful. And what you offer as I understand is to cover them with plaster to avoid the pain that might be inflicted on them at sort distance time. You know, I always was curious what is more severer to be stupid or dumber ?

Pp: good question I’ll try to simplify it by comparison to an occupation say dumber is prostitute and stupid is stripper

DDH: hey hey hey please do not offend prostitution occupation they at list making money, by charging to unload the males poisons. Like a waste management

Ddh: Very respectful occupation

Pp: Indeed my friend didn’t think like you, either way dumber are the worst stupidity can be linked to many naïve people.. and half of the one standing in the long line are the one that must feel the thrill of being covered head to toe with plaster…

And together they say:

THE DUMBASS DUMBER

[snowfallen-nymph]

🗝

The porcelain marionette lay before a snowfallen grave; she, a broken doll lost of her strings; an unfortunate lachrymose mess. Wilted ear pressed to the earth just above where the fallen rest, murmuring sweet and tristful nothings to spirits of the dead. Crystalline droplets spilled from her eyes of pearl and glass, coating plagued soil with the blessings of a sylph's tears alas. From dirt and neve, flowers of ivory and pale blue were surely born; a gift to the restless ghosts and for the places she would mourn.

"Oh, m-my sweet Shadow Lover... why do you haunt me so?" called the dejected little Nymph to the frigid night.

Still she lay upon her bed, of faerie rings and graves, singing somber lullabies to any that would heed. Slowly, then, the darling creature rose from her nest, casting doleful lunars to the darkened abyss. The petals of her blushed lips then parted, a rose in bloom, and stared at the nothingness her glassy vision consumed.

Helplessly so, her petite form shifted, and slowly her hands found their home upon the hastened rise and fall of her bosom, spidery digits lacing one-over-the-other; oh how the little lamb prayed. Her mothlike heart fluttered and thrummed as she waited dutifully for a response-- for anything at all. Yet, nothing would be returned to her; and all she felt was lost.

"M-Mmnn... Shadow Lover, how foolish you've made me f-feel. For years you've engrained your roots into every fiber of my soul, sowing seeds of doubt and f-further despair; pulling the strings of my heart as if I am a puppet... bidding your name f-from my lips... while simultaneously erasing my own. Like a moth to a flame... Your will shall be done..."

Fidgeting fingertips trembled, her svelte figure shivering despite her inability to feel the cold. Dollesque lashes eclipsed milken hues, descending like an ivory curtain tipped with snowflakes when she closed her eyes. The elven femme returned to the ground, laying upon her icy bed of flowers as she returned to whispering to the spirits drawn to her mysterial presence.

"Somebody please.... s-save me.... save me from myself..."

{ @theblackmourninquire ♡ }

[soracities]

I went out in the world. My words were my house, air my tomb.

Octavio Paz, from ‘Epitaph for No Stone’, A Tree Within (trans. Eliot Weinberger)

[warrioroflondonbelow]

Richard paused for a moment. If ever, he decided, they made disorganization an Olympic sport, he could be disorganized for Britain.

Neverwhere

[thevalicemultiverse]

If your grave doesn’t say “rest in peace” on it, you are automatically drafted into the skeleton war.

Alice: Well, that hardly seems fair -- what if you put "conscientious objector" on your tombstone instead?