#Bronze Primary

[bonusdragons]

September 15, 2024:

Bronze Primary, Banescale, Edged.

Charizard of Konzen's clan!

[scryingworkshop]

[kristhekrispy]

I kinda like how it came out, so here's a scry based off the San Francisco Garter Snake!

I felt kinda iffy leaving the primary ungened, but I wasn't really sure what could fit. I settled on pinstripe by the end, though

[iamthepulta]

I want to knock the socks off all the presenters every year I come here for four years lol. I bet I can make the history of the hoist shaft absolutely fascinating.

[fantastic-fr-scries]

Bogsneak Female

Bronze / Honey / Murk , Petals / Flair / Koi

Arcane Unusual

[prismaticutie]

I've been watching a lot of Omega Strikers guide videos lately and the one thing all of them have in common is that every single one of them highlights the importance of "just have fun".

That's something people say all the time, about any game. But there was one guide I watched yesterday, and in addition to giving that tip, also mentioned the importance of not being toxic and blaming your losses on your teammates.

This is genuinely the most helpful tip of all time. Like this guide really grilled into me just how horrible having that toxic mentality is. The full first minute of the video was dedicated to that. He also talked about how being toxic and playing w that mentality actively makes you worse at the game, period. Full stop. And he explained the reasoning for that as well.

I've heard this said and yeah I believe it as well, but this was the first time I'd ever had it thoroughly explained to me. It really put things into perspective for me.

Hoping I can improve at both Omega Strikers and Splatoon by keeping this in mind 👍

[planetbabel]

Master Bath Bathroom Newark

Large transitional master bathroom with a built-in vanity, recessed-panel cabinets, white cabinets, green walls, an undermount sink, marble countertops, and white countertops with gray flooring and a double sink.

[mephestopheles]

Process shot of the asteroid truck stop Helix Paradox in my homebrew spelljammer game. I ran session three with the uncoloured version today but I really wanted to break out the markers I bought so I'm adding some much needed colour and depth.

Session three went great, we added a new player, so we're up to a five person band now, which is a good number for a group. I'm still calling it some Assembly required, while they figure out a name for themselves. Managed to get a bit of a battle in, they de-escalated a situation with a wraith, picked up some cargo for the ship, and are currently doing a job for a Hag who's hanging out in the garden.

Also the rp between them all is stunning. *Chef's kiss* I need to get better at writing things down during the game. I think I named four NPCs today and I don't know if I wrote any of the names down.

[gothhabiba]

hey guys, I could use your help with something! Sue is a Black disabled mother, migrant, and PhD student at Newcastle University who urgently needs solidarity. Newcastle University is reporting her to the Home Office in retaliation for her complaint about her abusive supervisor, in full awareness of her Stage 5 kidney disease. this is a life-and-death situation.

here's how you can help:

retweet Unis Resist Border Control's tweet about Sue's abusive situation at the University of Newcastle

sign the open letter to Newcastle University by 22 May

pass a motion with your UCU branch (template here)

donate to help Sue find a kidney donor, apply to Leave to Remain, pay solicitor fees, and cover living costs

Sue's story from the #WeAreAllSue toolkit:

In 2022, Sue Agazie, high-achieving in her field, was promised financial support for her tuition fees through scholarships and paid opportunities and enrolled into the PhD programme at Newcastle University Business School with this understanding. When Sue arrived in the UK in 2023, however, she learned that all of this financial promise was a lie; the scholarships that she had been promised never materialised. Instead, she has gone into horrific debt and is having trouble surviving.

For almost a year, Sue sought financial support for herself and her family, including grants and opportunities that would burnish the reputation of her supervisor and university as a whole. However, in that year, her supervisor not only prevented her from applying to scholarships and paid opportunities, but further controlled her research and day-to-day quality of life, with a high-level of surveillance, inappropriate supervisory practices, and escalating harassment of both her and her family.

These practices include this supervisor repeatedly preventing Sue from taking part in important professional development activities, such as research presentations, within the Business School. He also isolated her from her senior colleagues, forbidding her from attending particular activities they were facilitating, or spreading malicious rumours about them. Further, the primary supervisor repeatedly ignored Sue's pleas for support on funding applications and other opportunities that would alleviate the precarious financial situation into which she had been placed, telling her to “stop sending me links to scholarships”.

This behaviour would culminate in the primary supervisor verbally abusing Sue a number of times, and maligning Sue’s husband, alleging that he has been too lazy to financially support her. These inappropriate supervisory practices belie Newcastle University’s commitment to gender equality under the Athena SWAN Charter, for which it holds a Silver award, and for which the Business School holds a Bronze award.

An environment of terror and retaliation

This environment of surveillance, harassment, and terror has grossly impacted the health of Sue as well as that of her spouse and children. In particular, her kidney condition escalated to stage 5 kidney disease, a severe and terminal illness that causes disablement and time-sensitive, highly-delicate medical needs, during this ordeal. The National Kidney Foundation in the United States indicates that “stress and uncontrolled reactions to stress” can “lead to kidney damage.” These compounding issues have also understandably affected Sue's studies, although she has bravely persisted in her research, meeting important deadlines.

Sue raised these issues using relevant avenues of informal complaint, including her supervisory teams and student support services; there are multiple complaints that have been raised in this department. However, she did not receive sufficient support. Further, her severe health issues were not treated with the urgency and importance that they deserved. In October and November 2023, Sue's supervisor accused her of allegedly plagiarising his work in what Sue sees as a malicious act of retaliation and victimisation over her informal complaint, and an attempt to sabotage her reputation not just at Newcastle University, but to prestigious global networks. Following all of this mistreatment, Sue filed a formal complaint against her supervisor in February 2024.

Newcastle University is closing ranks

The university came back to Sue on 5 March 2024 with its response, alleging that she had fabricated the complaint against her supervisor in retaliation for his accusations of research misconduct against her, painting this vulnerable, disabled African student as a malicious liar. The supervisor even denies the relevance of her terminal illness and implicates her young child's behaviour in his response, while maintaining that her terminal illness "has nothing to do with her studies or work pressure here". Sue maintains: “During the time that I was supervised by the primary PhD supervisor, he neither kept in regular communication about my disability nor did he signpost me to relevant services within and outside of Newcastle University that could help me. It is dangerous for the primary supervisor to maintain that my disability would not have affected my studies. His comments show a gross level of disability discrimination that does not befit the reputation that Newcastle University seeks to cultivate as an inclusive place.”

Now, the university is claiming that Sue is not "engaging" sufficiently with the programme, and is threatening to report her to the Home Office, despite a written promise in January 2024 that her status would be unaffected due to the ongoing complaint process, and full knowledge of her terminal stage 5 kidney failure. Adding more insult to injury, Newcastle University Accommodation Service has been hounding Sue for rent arrears, even though they know she is critically ill and in a complaint with the university, surviving with the support of Food & Solidarity. Sue has pleaded with the university’s Accommodation Service for a rent freeze, indicating her urgent health complications and her complaint underway with the university. In all correspondences, the Accommodation Service has ignored Sue’s pleas for clemency. There is real fear that the Accommodation Service will evict Sue, her husband and their child. This will, no doubt, cause real precarity to Sue’s already fragile health condition.

We are appalled that the Newcastle University Business School is utilising obvious misogynoirist tropes to close ranks around a disabled Black migrant student who has been treated horribly, and weaponising her precarious migrant status against her as she attempts to seek justice. We are also aware that Sue is not the only student in this situation and that there have been other complaints in this department. It is a stark illustration of the pernicious institutional racism at Russell Group universities that a disabled Black migrant woman with caring responsibilities has been treated this way not only by a supervisor, but by the institution, as well as the abject way these universities instrumentalise migrant students from the Global South as sources of income that they can afterwards dispose of.

Sue maintains that this ordeal has not diminished her resolve to complete her PhD studies at Newcastle University Business School. She says, “I want to finish my PhD research. But for that to happen, Newcastle University must provide the necessary support for a disabled student in a non-abusive environment. I hope that the university listens to me and we can come to a resolution on this matter soon.”

[blueiscoool]

The 'Carnyx' Nightmare of the Roman Soldiers

The Carnyx was a brass musical instrument used as a psychological weapon of war by the ancient Celts between 300 BC and 200AD in western and central Europe and beyond.

The carnyx was once widespread throughout much of Europe, although only a dozen or so fragments are known to us.

It was carried by bands of Celtic mercenaries; it was present at the attack on the Greek sanctuary at Delphi in 279 BC; it defied Julius Caesar in Gaul; and it faced Claudius when he invaded Britain. They are even shown on a Buddhist sculpture in India, proof of the far-flung connections of the Iron Age world.

However, they were not only used by the Celts; they were also used by the Dacians in modern Romania. The term “Celtic” is a complicated one. The concept of a pan-European Celtic culture is a myth; rather, aspects of art and technology were shared across vast distances by diverse cultures. The carnyx was one example of this.

A 12-foot-long, thin bronze tube with right-angle bends on both ends made up the carnyx. The lower end ended in a mouthpiece, and the upper end flared out into a bell that was usually decorated to look like a wild boar’s had. Historians believe it had a tongue that flapped up and down, increasing the noise made by the instrument. The carnyx was played upright so that the boar’s head bell protruded well above the warriors’ heads. Its primary goal was to create more noise and confusion on the battlefield.

The Greek historian Polybius (206-126BC) was so impressed by the clamor of the Gallic army and the sound of the carnyx, he observed that “there were countless trumpeters and horn blowers and since the whole army was shouting its war cries at the same time there was such a confused sound that the noise seemed to come not only from the trumpeters and the soldiers but also from the countryside which was joining in the echo”.

And the Roman historian Diodorus Siculus wrote, “Their trumpets are also of a peculiar and barbaric kind which produce a harsh, reverberating sound suitable to the confusion of battle.”

Archaeologists discovered a hoard of ritually destroyed weapons in 2004, including a dozen swords, scabbards, spearheads, a shield, bronze helmets, an iron helmet shaped like a swan, a cauldron, animal remains, and seven carnyces. Before the Tintignac discovery, the remains of only five actual carnyces had been found.

The finest was unearthed in Deskford, Scotland in 1816. The Deskford carnyx only has the boar’s head bell and is missing the mane, tongue, and tubing. Images of Carnyx players have been found as well. A Roman denarius, dating from 48 BC bears a representation of a Carnyx. Three carnyx players are featured prominently on the Gundestrup Cauldron, which was found in a Danish peat bog.

One of the seven found at Tintignac, on the other hand, was almost entirely complete. The Tintignac Carnyx was broken into 40 pieces. When puzzled back together, it was found to be just an inch short of six feet long with a single missing section of the tube. The bell was a boar’s head with protruding tusks and large pointed ears. Once restored, the Tintignac Carnyx proved to be the first virtually complete carnyx ever found.

By Leman Altuntaş.

Music video by John Kenny.

[helen-with-an-a]

Clumsy

Hi. So this was a request that I thought was such a cute idea. I hope you enjoy it.

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Description: Moments were Lucy helps take care of R when she's clumsy

Word Count: 2.8k

TW: Injury

You were clumsy. That had been a fact of life since you were born. In nursey, you had a designated Mr Bump ice pack that was used solely by you. In primary school, the office lady who doubled as the nurse was your best friend, often spending more of your playtime with her getting something patched up than running around with your friends. In secondary school, things didn’t get any better. You often sported random bruises that you didn’t know where they came from. You would think that being placed into a sport that required a level of coordination and skill from a young age and then becoming a professional footballer would improve your balance and dexterity, yet you were often on the ground in matches due to your own idiocy rather than a harsh shove or poorly timed tackle from the opposition.

The bruises to your ego hurt more than the ones on your skin, but you often just laughed it off, accepting the hands that came to help pick you up off the floor and wipe away the grass stains. The hand that, more often than not, belonged to Lucy. She was always the first to come to your aid with a poorly concealed laugh and a kind smile. In a match, it was followed by a raised eyebrow and a squeeze to your shoulder as she shook her head, trying to remain professional on the pitch. In training, it was a gentle kiss to the forehead and an arm around your waist as she steadied you. In your daily life outside the training ground, you could never fully fall as she often tucked you safely into her side or had a firm, supportive grip on you if that wasn’t possible. In your own home's privacy, you could hardly move without Lucy fretting over you. She had seen too many injuries occur for you to be allowed to do much without her personal supervision – not that you really minded your girlfriend’s near-permanent presence.

------------------

It was a wet and windy day as you battled it out on the pitch. It was not the most ideal conditions to play in regardless, but with your inability to stay on your feet, you were having more trouble than most. You were making a run up the wing when you tripped, stumbling over your own feet as you went flying, skidding painfully along the sodden grass. You groaned, embarrassed that you had, once again, ended up face down on the pitch. You lay there for a minute, waiting for your mind to catch up with what happened before rolling onto your back.

“You good, love?” Lucy laughed as she came to your side.

“Ow,” you groaned, but reaching for her to help pull you back to standing.

“Are you ok?” Lucy asked again, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder as you drew level with her again.

“Yeh, sweets, I’m ok,” you sighed, wiping the worst of the mud off your jersey. Her eyebrow raised, silently asking if you were being honest with her. "I might be a little sore tomorrow, but I’m okay,” you mused. You had gone down a little harder than normal and could already feel the ache in your body as a result.

“Do you need to come off, bubba?” She asked, face full of concern as she scanned you discreetly.

“No, I’m ok. My ego took more of a battering than I did,” you laughed, lifting your shoulder to trap Lucy’s hand between it and your cheek. She squeezed three times and winked at you. You stuck your tongue out in an attempt to playfully lick her hand, demonstrating to her that you were clearly fine.

“C’mon, then. Let’s try to stay vertical with your feet on the ground for the rest of the match, shall we?” Lucy teased as you moved back into your respective positions.

“I can try, but I make no promises,” you joked back, grinning widely at her as you separated.

She shook her head at you. “I love you,” you mouthed at her.

“I love you,” she mouthed back.

------------------

“Shit,” you said as you stumbled up the stairs to the training pitches.

“Careful, idiota maldestre.” Aitana called as she came to steady you.

“Mi héroe,” you thanked her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “And I’m not an idiot. I might be clumsy, but I’m not an idiot.” You slipped her into a headlock that she quickly broke out of.

You came to stand beside Lucy in the huddle before training started, her arm automatically drawing you into her side.

“No quiero ninguna herida,” Jona said as he finished his pre-training speech, his eyes lingering on you for a second longer than everyone else. You just smiled at him.

“Now, what are we going to do today, love?” Lucy asked in a serious tone, but you knew she was teasing. Her hands came to rest on your hips as the others split off into their training pairs.

“Stay upright,” you replied in an equally severe voice.

“Good.” She squeezed you lightly before glancing around and pressing a swift kiss to your cheek. You rolled your eyes at her antics and beamed anyway.

Your promise only lasted about 20 minutes. You were in a trio with Alexia and Patri; Alexia pushed against you with a yoga ball as Patri passed the ball for you to kick back. It was going well. You remained strong and firm, leaning back into the shoving and stabilising your core muscles. But you were so focused on keeping your body straight that you forgot where you planted your feet.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed as you went tumbling to the ground, Alexia and the giant blue ball following you. Patri stood, slightly stunned, as her group was no longer in front of her; instead, there was a pile of limbs on the floor. “Ay, dios mío. Estás bien?” Patri asked, recognising the grimace of pain on your face. “Ow,” you winced as you tried to wiggle it. Now standing again, Alexia left your side, heading toward your girlfriend.

“Bubba?” Lucy’s concerned voice reached you as you shifted to sitting, her hand coming to rub your back as she crouched by your side.

“I’m ok, sweets. It’s just my ankle. I put my foot down wrong.” You tried to move it again, but it didn’t hurt, though it definitely felt funny.

“Ok, let’s get you up and to the medics.” Lucy moved to help you up, taking most of your weight. You gently added more pressure to your foot, relaxing slightly as no pain radiated up your leg. “What did I ask you about injuries?” Lucy sighed dramatically as she guided you to the bench where the physio was waiting.

“I’m sorry,” you said guiltily, your cheeks flaring with an embarrassed blush.

“I know you are, love,” she said, depositing you on the seat and pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “No funny business,” she said seriously as she cupped your face. "And listen to the doctors.” You nodded, taking her hand and kissing her palm lightly.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you,” she answered, equally as quiet before she returned to training.

------------------

“Anem, anem,” Aitana chanted, her excited calls encouraging everyone to increase their speed as you walked to Manuela’s. There was finally a break in the busy schedule, so naturally, you used it to your advantage. The drinks were flowing, and the carefree atmosphere helped relax you immensely.

“Oops,” you muttered under your breath as you tripped over the uneven pavement. You didn’t go very far, not with Lucy's iron grip on your hand.

“Okay?” She asked you as you shook off the jolt.

“Yeh. You saved me, sweets. My knight in shining armour.” You lifted your intertwined hands and pressed a loving kiss on the back of hers.

“Ew, ustedes dos son asquerosas,” Mapi gagging as she fell in step with you. You clicked your teeth.

“Girl, you have no leg to stand on with that. You and Ingrid are so in love, it’s hideous to witness.” You laughed at how offended she seemed.

“Es cierto,” Lucy agreed. Ingrid giggled at her girlfriend’s expression.

“Uhh, mi Princesa, no deberías estar de acuerdo con ellos.” Mapi continued, outraged at the apparent attack on her relationship.

“She just recognises the truth,” you goaded, drawing Ingrid closer as she swung her arm around your shoulders.

“Relax, min skjønnhet. She’s only teasing.” Ingrid placated her girlfriend, extending her hand out for Mapi to take. You watched as she and Mapi fell into a quiet conversation, love clear on both of their faces. You turned to look at Lucy and found her already looking at you, her own adoration clear on her face, which you were sure echoed in yours. She squeezed your hand three times, causing a blush to bloom on your cheeks. You squeezed back three times and watched as she looked down, slightly shy under your intense gaze.

The problem with alcohol for you was that it caused you to fumble even more. You had gone outside with Ona and Keira to get some air – the sweaty club was getting to all of you.

“So, yeh. I think I want to try to get a long weekend away in soon ish,” Ona finished her conversation. You weren’t really paying attention, your minds drifting between the chicken nuggets you would pester Lucy for on the way home and if you wanted another drink or not – the world spinning slightly as you sucked in the cool night air.

“You alright over there, clumsy?” Keira asked, noticing you staggering somewhat as you drifted away from the pair.

“Um? Oh, yeh. I’m a-ok,” You threw Keira the universal ‘ok’ sign – pausing slightly as you commanded your fingers to do what you desired. Your drunkenness was obvious; you blinked a little too slowly, and you were clearly not in complete control of yourself, but your speech wasn’t slurred yet.

“Sure, you are,” Ona laughed as you tried to wedge yourself between them, throwing too much weight into the action and launching yourself forward. You crashed heavily into the ground, your knee taking most of the force. You yelped a little at the pain before flopping down on the floor behind the bar. You looked down, and a slight graze on your right hand captured most of your attention until Ona gasped.

“What?” You looked around, trying to see the cause of her alarm.

“Su rodilla,” she said as she pointed to your knee. Your drunk brain didn’t know what she was referring to, but you followed her finger and came to stare at your bloodied knee. You gasped.

“My knee,” you whined, only now becoming aware of the throbbing cut.

“I’ll get Lucy; you stay with her.” Keira rushed back inside.

“Oni, I fell,” you pouted. You looked from your knee to her and back again, your frown increasing with every minute. Ona had to admit, drunk you was very adorable.

“Love?” Lucy appeared, looking around frantically for you.

“Sweets?” You perked up, looking somewhat like a meerkat.

“Hey, lovely. How are you doing?” She asked gently, taking a seat next to you.

“I fell,” you said wetly through the tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks.

“Oh, Bubba. It’s ok.” She cooed, drawing you to lay your head on her collarbone. She shushed you gently, used to your drunken antics after the number of years you had dated. It was easier for her to treat every issue with just as much seriousness as you did. “It’s just a small cut. Let’s get you patched up, and we can head home, ok?” You nodded, refusing to leave the sanctuary of Lucy’s chest. “Do you want me to do it, or are you ok with Manuela’s staff doing it?” she asked, leaning back slightly to hear your answer.

“Want Mazza to do it,” Lucy sighed. You often missed your best friend when you were in Barcelona and she was back in Manchester.

“Mary’s not here, Bubba. How about Keira?” Lucy comforted you, nodding to Keira to take the first aid kit from the security guard who had joined you outside. You sniffled slightly, burring yourself further into Lucy as the alcohol wipe stung your cut.

“Can I have nuggets?” You asked, your mind still lingering on the food you craved.

“Sure, love.” Lucy laughed as you sat up straighter at her response.

“I love you,” you said, staring straight into her eyes.

“I love you,” she responded, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

------------------

You stared at your relatively empty fridge. An onion, a pepper, some leftover chicken, and 3 eggs stared back at you. It's not particularly inspiring, but it would do. You gathered the ingredients, deposited them on the chopping board, and started cutting. You should have started with the pepper to avoid having watery eyes as you chopped everything, but you weren’t thinking and now you were regretting it. The lingering sting of the onion made it harder to see what you were doing. The front door opening also distracted you even more. Lucy’s calls of arrival made you not watch where you placed the knife and try to cut the pepper.

“Fuck,” you swore loudly. The red liquid came streaming out alarmingly quickly. “Ow, ow, ow.” You blinked away the tears.

“Love, what’s wrong? Are you ok?” Lucy ran around the corner, skidding on the hard floors as she rushed into the kitchen. You were aware of how scary it must have looked, you standing wide-eyed at Lucy, blood running down your hand with a knife in the other.

“Oh, Bubba.” Lucy soothed, her gentle fingers taking the knife from your hand and manoeuvring you to stand by the sink, letting cool water wash over the cut. “What happened, lovely?” she asked her.

“I was trying to make us tea,” you said dejectedly. Why couldn’t you do anything right? All you wanted was to do one small thing for Lucy, and here you were, bleeding into her sink. You looked up to the ceiling, trying really hard not to let the tears fall. She gently patted your finger with a clean towel before holding it tightly, trying to stop the bleeding. “So stupid,” you whispered dejectedly.

“Hey, stop that. Accidents happen.” She chastised gently, pushing some hair out of your face.

“Not just this,” you waved your injured hand around. “I constantly trip and fall, and it’s just so stupid. I’m an adult. I’m an athlete. I should be less of a fucking clumsy idiot.” You had heard it your whole life – people teasing you over your clumsiness, calling you affectionate nicknames based on your inability to stay upright. You sniffed, staring hard at the floor.

“Hey, no, stop it.” She said firmly, her free hand forcing your chin up until you had to look at her. “I love that you trip all the time. It’s part of who you are,” she kissed your cheek. “And I like that I can help you,” she admitted softly. “It makes me feel important,” she whispered.

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “You are important. And not just to me. And not just because you help me when I trip.” You spoke with such conviction. She leant in to press a passionate kiss on your lips. You hummed quietly at the feeling. “I love you,” you proudly stated when she drew away.

“I love you,” she said declared back.

------------------

You weren’t really paying attention as Leah moaned about something someone had done to her. It was very trivial, but she took it as a personal attack. You spotted Lucy walking down the path to the field with two water bottles. You saw her spot you and speed up slightly, smiling at the thought of her hurrying to get to you. She was practically speed walking down the gentle slope, her movements slowly becoming less controlled. You saw her foot catch the uneven pavement from a tree root. Before you knew it, you had abandoned your conversation with Leah and rushed to Lucy’s side, getting her just in time to stop her from falling painfully onto the concrete.

“Easy, sweets,” you teased, leaning your body into her to help steady the both of you. “You ok?” you asked her, scanning her features for any discomfort.

“I’m all good, bubba. You caught me.” She smiled broadly at you.

“You always catch me. I thought it was only fair.” You pressed a kiss to the underneath of her jaw.

“I love you,” she said happily.

“I love you,” you replied, equally as joyful.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3

[bonusdragons]

December 4, 2022:

Bronze Primary, Gaoler, Jupiter.

Abderus of Spy’s clan!

[scryingworkshop]

[yetanotherlesbianonthiswebsite]

An overly complicated analysis of everything we know about Neve Gallus in canon, as well as some additional thoughts of mine on the themes surrounding her (because I am so gay for her already)

1. Canon information

- Her age is, as of yet, unknown. In the Tevinter Nights story The Streets of Minrathous, narrated in the first-person perspective by Neve, we read “He greeted me with a dismissive ‘young lady’ that made me think he’d forgotten my name” (216). However, this is a description by an older man, whose nephew is alive long enough that his “parents had disowned him years ago” (213). In another passage of the story, the following can be read: “The man was a con artist I’d turned in the year before. To be fair, he’d nearly gotten me killed the year before that, so we were even” (221). We can therefore be certain that she has engaged successfully in detective work for at least two years, and has likely been doing so for a while. We do not know when the story is set, neither do we know anything about the parallel stories of “The Wigmaker Job” and “Luck in the Gardens”. We get the information that a Venatori cultist was wearing clothes that are fading (220), and that the cult had long since lost much standing in society; it has likely been quite a number of years since 9:42. At the same time, we know of a Qunari invasion in the eastern part of the Tevinter Empire from 9:44/45 onward, with several major cities falling to the invaders. Neve describes the catacombs as “a place to hold a year’s worth of food and supplies, securing the city’s survival in case of blight or Qunari invasion” (232). A woman as observant and politically savvy as her would likely not frame an invasion as that much of a hypothetical in case of an ongoing war. It is reasonable to assume that the story takes place sometime around the middle of the forties. Which means that by the events of Veilguard, in the middle of the fifties, we should expect Neve to have had at least twelve years of experience as a private investigator, which places her likely age at minimum in the early thirties. (Not that I am hoping for anything 40 or upward, no, there is no MILF agenda here)

- She describes the manor of a rich man as “a residence nowhere near the third-rate bookseller where I rent a room” (216), locating her residence both outside of the rich parts of town, and informing us that she does not have the greatest of means.

- Likewise, we learn that her “family has more templars than mages. I’m sure that says a lot about me. The point is, I’m not from an old family and I felt as at home in Lady Varantus’s house as Jahvis looked” (218). Within the rigid social hierarchies of Tevinter, she is privileged by magehood, but not by blood. To the degree that Tevene social classes can be broken down so neatly into stratified categories, she seems to be somewhere in the lower ranks of the middle class.

- She is canonically disabled; an amputee wearing a prosthetic leg made of dwarven metal (215). In the comic The Missing #4, we see her prosthetic, it is designed as a cobra standing up in intimidation of an attacker, and the metal seems to be predominantly a bronze or gold with blue or silver accents (6). On her foot on the other leg, she is wearing a boot which has a bronze or gold tip symmetrical to the tail of the cobra, and a high plattformed heel (ibid). Combining that with the fact that she fights and runs with a prosthetic and a heeled boot (TSoM 215, TM4 16), we learn that she expresses immense control over her body.

- Likewise, she approaches all her actions, her appearance, and her communication verbal and physical with a high degree of precision and deliberation. Her outfit is perfectly composed, with white and dark leather as primary colours, the same blue-gold metal that her prosthetic is made out of for accents as well as her belt (which is a coiling snake, TM4 6), a dark turquiose for some of the cloth (such as pants and cravat), a light turquiose for such accents as her fingernails and her meticulously applied eyeliner, and some manner of cap akin to a graduation cap at the right side of her head, in an almost black brown, with gold details. The shape of the cap has the exact same angles as a rhombus as her earrings (TM4 9). The detail on the cap forms a snake. It has been posited by tumblr user @cleric4vampire that even her movement in the trailer reinforces the cobra/snake motive (https://www.tumblr.com/cleric4vampire/752850000700194816). Despite sometimes excrutiatingly long workdays (223), Neve puts an extreme amount of emphasis on her appearance. Even in the comic, while the style does feature very dynamic character movements while talking, her gestures stick out as particularly deliberate; she talks with her hands a lot, and with deliberation (see the appendix of this post for more). This speaks to a plethora of willpower, control, and a desire to maintain a controlled barrier between the self and the larger world.

- While writing this, I have come up with the theory that the blue accents of her apparell might partially be lyrium. If she is literally wearing lyrium makeup, I will marry her.

- The only two offensive types of magic that we see her use are ice magic (e.g. TSoM 226, 227, 235, TM4 16, 17), and a manner of magic that lets her freeze the moisture in the air around a person to stagger them (e.g. TSoM 214, TM4 17). Through cooling the air around herself a bit less, she manages to hide herself in mist (e.g. TSoM 214). She is capable of some healing magic (227).

- She has a network of contacts, acquaintances, and informants all over Minrathous, particularly in its underground.

- She loves salty fried fish (221). This is not only in line with Minrathous being a coastal capital, which has a distinct influence on the caloric inflow into the city and cuisine at large, but also, once again, stresses that she does not have much money at her disposal, by emphasizing that she eats fried fish from a cheap street food stall very regularly (221), which she calls her “fish dinners” (228).

- She canonically has straight dark brown hair, meticulously kept at the left side of her face to keep space for the cap on the right, brown eyes, and brown skin. It is furthermore canon that anyone who has a problem with that or wishes to change that with mods will be exploded via elemental magic. It is furthermore canon that I will not buy Veilguard if the game whitewashes her.

- She is involved with the Shadow Dragons in helping fugitive slaves (TM4 9, 20). She expressly approves of the use of armed violence against the institution of slavery. At one point, she comments: “The cult’s dead god wanted to bring Tevinter back to what it was—to its “glory.” It was nonsense, of course. It always was. The old empire was even more corrupt and heartless than what it is now, no matter how pretty the picture Corypheus painted” (TSoM 221). In her vocal resistance to the empire, she sees it as a good usage of her time to track down Venatori (214). In spite of her resistance against the empire, she considers the city her home and would like it to be better than it is (214, 221).

2. Themes: The noir detective and the empire

It goes without saying that the formational archetype behind the character of Neve Gallus is that of the noir detective. A solipsistic cynic with little means, a private investigator, called to investigate a crime scene in dance with and against the police, depending on the point of the story. The noir detective of the movies of the first half of the 20th century, the formational corpus from which stems the archetype, is distinctly tied to the metropolis; a story that needs the urban context, the urban scenery. While of course featuring a plentitude of settings and configurations, at the root of the archetype rest particularly a white, male, US-American figure. To bring Minrathous in parallel with New York particularly is in so far a welcome change as it means a partial departure from the orientalism underlying a lot of early descriptions of Tevinter in Dragon Age canon. But, to me at least, it raises the question of how well Dragon Age is equipped to tackle the arising thematic implications. Just like the Tevinter Empire, the United States of America is a slave society fueled by the deprivation of Indigenous communities and the physical exploitation of a racialized, disenfanchised class. The metropolis is the core of the imperial core; and Minrathous is, as the largest city of Thedas and the capital of Tevinter, certainly that. The Streets of Minrathous manages but a partial critique of the society of the imperial-colonial metropolis. While Neve remains critical of the templars, the undeniable cop stand-in, the critique remains bound to corruption the higher one goes in the chain of command, as well as the bureaucracy (231). The story, in particular, follows the very dangerous trope commonly found in copaganda that the base-level officers should be allowed to disobey the chain of command and act on their own, particularly when it comes to the deployment of heavy weaponry (234). That the base-level officer is as much an agent of imperial violence as the top of the hierarchy, turning the systemic and depersonal violence of the system into concrete interpersonal violence, cannot be formulated by the text.

Furthermore, the Venatori, in their supremacist-fascistic death cult, remain cast in ableistic terms that deprive their ideology of systemic connectedness: “that didn’t stop remaining loyalists from acting delusional and stirring up trouble when the mood struck. That’s fanatics for you” (213). That fascism is but the logical conclusion of empire, particularly a weakened and collapsing empire, remains just as unacknowledged. And yet, what haunts the story is a profound sense of loneliness and alienation. A rich man estranged and alienated from his nephew because of his fear of social repercussions for the nephews behavior, said nephew dying while grasping to any semblance of connection he can (“He knew what came next. He was searching for whatever company he had left” 215), Neve facing the cultists in their hideout alone because the templar Rana does not want to breach protocoll, hell, even the Venatori preacher making a ridiculous figure, alone and ignored on his soapbox while the masses rush by him and shut him out of their attention; everyone is lonely, seperated by the dividing and isolating forces of the empire. The imperial metropolis condenses people, yet they are emotionally distanced from one another. Neve’s final action in the story is to return to the rich old man, explaining to him that his nephew was trying to be good after all; a post-mortem attempt to mend but one severed connection between humans. Her entire character is defined by the trajectory that comes from wandering almost aimlessly in a desperate attempt to escape the solipsistic nature of the empire. Her defining emotional conflict is with the reality of empire, as much as her status as a brown, disabled, bisexual woman clashes with the roots of the figure of the noir detective. We see by the time of The Missing #4 that she finds a sense of fulfillment in working with the Shadow Dragons for the slaves and against the slavers, which hints at a character arc from TSoM to TM4. As Varric correctly observes, she has a heart of gold (TM4 20), one which she hides behind a particularly controlled facade, as stern as beautiful. How well her character plays out in Veilguard hinges entirely on the stories limited ability to discuss empire in meaningful terms, and the story’s willingness to further explore her emotional arc suggested between TSoM and TM4. I am furthermore worried about how well a series known for its overt centrism can handle the nuances that make her character so great, as well as fearing the reaction by gamers[TM] to having a brown, female, disabled, bisexual detective.

3. Appendix: I am gay for the way she talks with her hands and body

TM4 9

TM4 9

TM4 5

TM4 10

TM4 14

TM4 19

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Named # 1 in Dwell's Top 10 Prefabs in 2017, The Frost House is a mid-century modern prefabricated aluminum + steel + glass house, designed and engineered by Emil Tessin, and manufactured by Alside Homes Corporation. The 1964 mid-century modern in Michigan City, IN has 3bds, 2ba, and is listed for $925K including all furnishings (appraised at $400K).

The entrance foyer. You'll notice several of these 2-glass divider walls throughout the house.

The living room is in a sunny corner with a wall of windows and doors to the patio.

The open concept room also has a dining area. The chairs look like Eames.

The dining area has a door to the enclosed sun room.

This is beautiful.

The kitchen is original and untouched. There's a new dishwasher, but the bronze oven and fridge are original. Look at the wall of closets- there's plenty of storage.

On the other side of the kitchen is a family room with another table & chairs. I like the blue doors on the closet.

Colorful closet doors in the hall to the bedrooms.

The primary bedroom is large for a mid-century home. The room divider separates a smaller room with double dressers and mirrors. I imagine that it's a dressing room. There's also a large closet in each room.

Behind the dressing room is a small shower room with original gold sink and toilet.

Bd. #2 is very nice and has the dresser and a window in the closet.

Bd. #3 is a child's room. All 3 bds. have sliders to the patio or yard.

This bedroom also has a dresser in the closet.

Bath #2 is a 3pc. with a tub and has all original blue fixtures.

There's a beautiful pool. Aw, does the doggo come with the house, too?

0.78 Acre lot

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3215-Cleveland-Ave-Michigan-City-IN-46360/118695882_zpid/?

[fantastic-fr-scries]

Veilspun Female

Oilslick / Sunset / Bronze , Laced / Constellation / Flecks