#Calesvol

[negreabsolut]

La Dama del llac dóna Escàlibor al rei Artús. Dibuix d'Alfred Kappes; 1880.

[ria-starstruck]

LIKE to get me to finish these refs. REBLOG to fill me with determination (to finish these refs). IGNORE to leave me to die, frostbitten and alone, in the middle of the cursed woods in midwinter where nary a living soul dares set foot, paw, claw, or wing.

[tamaslin]

absolutely in love w this commission by @forystr of my tav, galatine!

[duunswitch]

It would like to clarify it's not actually a sword despite being sword shaped. It's actually a shield.

[duunswitch]

"Oh at this point I'm just keeping it to «spite» you."

It may be stuck in this particular form, but a shield is a shield is a shield–it was made to defend and protect before it was made to attack. Calesvol digs into its core, yanks on the magic inherent in its forging that had made it such a formidable shield in the lost king's hands and watches magic crackle into place around it.

The crash of metal meeting magic is loud in its ears, eyes nearly glowing with the level of magic it channels. It wonders briefly if any of the weapons had been damaged beyond use in the collision.

"I," it snaps, baring teeth in a snarl up at Gilgamesh. "Am the loyal shield of ―, and if you want to shatter me then you'll need to do better than that." Taking it clearly isn't an option, as far as the weapon's concerned. (It can, however, admit that it probably should have taken a chance to convince the other sword to teach it how to fight in a human form first before the pests had come out of the wood. This is less than ideal. More so, when it's stuck as a sword and unable to access any other more useful forms.)

The magic crackling around it shifts, changing shape from a protective dome to something more pointed as it split apart in a mimicking of Gilgamesh's own arsenal. Less extensive, it noted with a flicker of annoyance. Not enough magic for it to be nearly as impressive.

"Hold still for a minute."

      THE beginnings of a sneer curl at the bridge of his nose as his face shifts with the subtle contortions of derision thinly-laced — his glower is a Damascus blade that pierces the sword’s every move. It is found wanting. The king did not make such bumbling, clumsy movements, transgressions of the subpar that might have been thought passable ( if not inherent to their nature ) had his quarry not been donning the skin of one who did not make such mistakes. Its capacity toward rapid adaptation, while impressive, was not enough to rectify the grievous blasphemy that incited this strife to begin with. 

      “I acknowledge your will and your defiance. I acknowledge them but I will not respect them.  You lost that right the moment you decided to copy something that was never yours to imitate.” Gilgamesh calmly shifts his head by degrees as a deflected blade whistles past his ear, his own footwork characterized by a precision that bordered upon surgical; practiced, yet organically adaptive — for he was born in war, raised in war, embodied war, and even if he was not in his physical prime his physical capabilities were not to be discounted. The same could be said of his senses: for when he hears the beginnings of crunching earth he dashes backward with shielded eyes, scoff slipping past his lips. Cheap. How coincidental that Calesvol’s words were as tawdry and inconsequential as its tactics. Gilgamesh didn’t need to see nor hear to fire blades at will, he needed only to give a simple thought and he does so, spears, sabres, lances, falchions and their ilk discharged with speed so exceptional they cracked the air like gunshots. 

     “WHETHER done for you or your Master’s sake, the crime is yours to bear. Did she force you to take that form? I doubt it. You’re quite the hypocrite, calling me covetous while wearing a stolen face you refuse to let go of,” the child’s assault of armaments is ceaseless, blades projected and returned to his treasury in a shower of gold, the once-subtle levitation of his soles from the ground implying that the little sword’s move wouldn’t work a second time. “Here’s the deal. Understand it, or don’t.” The king’s body ascends amidst the sonic orchestra of steel and sound, palm raising to slick through aureate locks.

  “YOU’VE got something that’s mine. If you insist on keeping it, then I’ll insist on taking it back. Do not mistake my rectification for interest, object. You are arrogant to presume that anything other than your face makes you worth something to me. Whether I shatter you or obtain you,” golden ripples halo his acclivitous form in a pareidolia of seraphic wings, metal feathers brutally descending upon his target below. “The end result is all the same to me.”

[sunshinemoonrx]

I've been thinking about the original folkloric Arthur

Not a king, not a knight, but a great hunter and a humble soldier.

I'm not really an artist but I spent all yesterday filled with the urge to draw this version of the character, so here's a post that's 50/50 doodles and historiographical rambles about him.

I wanted to do scenes depicting the feats this earliest 9th-century Welsh folklore describes him doing, so first I needed a design for the guy.

Notes on my choices and historicity:

-These earliest local Arthur legends are recorded in an appendix to the Historia Brittonum (c. 830), where he is referred to as simply "Arthur miles" ("the soldier"), a protector-figure in south Wales. The name Arthur is thought to derive from the Latin "Artorius", so I've just written it here to create a consistent Latin version of the name and title. That doesn't mean it was his "real name"; there probably wasn't a specific real guy. Some have floated a 2nd-century Roman general named Lucius Artorius Castus as the "real king Arthur", but there's a 600-year gap between his life and any mention of Arthur, so that's extremely unlikely.

-The visuals are a mix of historic (he wears a tunic, a mail shirt and a cloak with an early medieval brooch) and the kind of anime boy that appeals to me personally. I can't tell you why I was so sure he had to be black-haired, it just felt right. I tried to avoid depicting him as too elite a warrior; I imagine the necklace was obtained as plunder from a raid. For his build, I wanted him to have some mass but not to look like a modern gym bro, and that crashed headfirst into my predilection for messy twinks, and I ended up drawing him (and the other characters here) with kinda "curvy anime babe" proportions, I guess, lmao

-The 10th-century Annales Cambriae say that at the battle of Badon, "Arthur carried the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ for three days and three nights on his shoulders and the Britons were the victors". This is probably referring to to a shield design, but I thought it'd be fun to interpret it as a back tattoo. The practice is attested as being practiced in the north of Britain from a 786 synod in Northumbria. The English clergy weren't fond of it and actually tattooing a cross isn't attested until the crusading era, plus from a modern perspective the vibes of a guy with just a big Christian tattoo are a bit questionable, so I decided to pair it with something else. Earlier Roman accounts of Briton tattoos mention animal shapes, and Welsh legends often depict people or their souls becoming birds (early modern Cornish folklore even held that Arthur survived in the form of a bird), so I went with a wing-pattern.

-The precursor to Excalibur, Arthur's sword Caledfwlch ("hard-cleaver", Caliburnus in Latin, Calesvol in Cornish) isn't magic yet, and his spear and dagger are given equal prominence, so I depicted it as the kind of straight sword common at the time, derived from the Roman spatha design.

-One of the two prior stories recorded in the HB is Arthur's fighting and killing his son Amr ("fab Arthur", "son of Arthur", is my translation into Welsh); I drew Amr in a half-tunic/half-dress because, again, I just kinda wanted to

The other story involves Arthur hunting the great boar Twrch Trwyth (Troit/Troynt), so that was the next thing to design:

This is very cool to see referred to this early, because the hunt of the Trwyth is the climactic set-piece of Culhwch ac Olwen (c. 1100), the most complete Arthurian tale we have from the period after the Historia Brittonum transformed him from a minor local figure into a magical warrior-hero for all the Britons and centrepiece of Welsh legend, but before Geoffrey of Monmouth's Historia Regum Britanniae further began his transformation into the chivalric king popular in France and across Europe.

In Culhwch, Trwyth is a king who was turned into a boar by God as punishment for his sins, so I came up with a human design as well as a big pig design. The king in question was probably intended as a Briton, but I thought it would be fun to depict him as a Saxon, Arthur's enemies in the HB, especially as Saxon warriors often wore boar-crests on their helmets. I did one take with a mostly historic boar-helmet, and one more fantastical, almost like a boar-themed Kamen Rider helmet, as if rather than becoming an actual boar he became this more fearsome but still humanoid warrior.

I also made his sword slightly asymmetrical, to mirror the seax knives that gave the Saxons their name. Their actual main battle swords were straight, but I thought it was a fun touch for this magical tyrant.

As for the boar-form design, I like depicting monsters with sketchy outlines, like they aren't fully solid creatures of this world.

And that's how we get our first scene proper!

The legend recorded in HB says that when Cabal (Latinisation of Welsh "Cafall"), Arthur's dog, was hunting Troynt (Trwyth), he left a paw-print in a stone, which Arthur then assembled a cairn under, and if the paw-print stone is ever removed, within 24 hours it returns to the mound. (Cafall is also featured in the version of the hunt in Culhwch!)

Anyway, I can't really draw animals that aren't big scary creatures, so I didn't want to draw an actual dog. So since I'd already turned Trwyth into a guy, I figured why not just turn Cafall into a guy too? Plus, I get to draw a guy in a collar with a dog-tail and a little fangy. So win-win, really.

I also wanted to draw a version with the human Trwyth, and I figured I'd combine that with the story of Amr, and just do a page of swordfights:

"...on fatal field / we fended our lives, as the ranks clashed in battle / and the boar-crests rang..." -Beowulf

The Amr (or Amhar) story relates that Arthur built a tomb for his son, and that every time it is measured it comes up as a different length.

The fact this is such an early story is also very interesting, because one of the most famous parts of post-HRB chivalric Arthur is the killing of his son Mordred. Early Welsh references to Mordred (Medraut or Medrawd) portray him entirely positively. I do wonder if when Mordred became the more famous son of Arthur the story of Amr got folded into his, but we don't have evidence to do more than speculate.

I also now realise that my human Trwyth looks a lot like a Ringwraith, and honestly the more medieval lit I delve through the more moments of "oh that's why that bit of Tolkien is like that" I have.

Those were what I originally wanted to depict, but in doing them two more ideas occurred to me. One was depicting the Arthur of the Historia Brittonum itself (not just the pre-existing folklore it recorded), this local hero plucked into a much grander stage, cast as a pseudohistorical general leading his people against the Saxons.

This one came out very "edgy teenager on Deviantart", but fuck it, kill the part of you that cringes and be free, right:

The title comes from one of the medieval Welsh "triad" texts, each one a short line listing the "three great X of the Isle of Britain" to help bards remember. Arthur is referred to in many of them, here as one of the "Three Red Reapers of the Isle of Britain". I thought that was a good fit for his war-hero portrayal here. Also I tried moving the cross-tattoo lower down to make it sluttier.

HB's Arthur is an interesting middle ground. He's leading the Britons as a whole, but he still has one foot in his humble origins. He's named as Dux Bellorum, "battle-leader", and it's specified that the kings of the Britons were under his leadership although he was less noble than them. It's only somewhere between the grander Welsh legends that sprung up after this and the HRB that he would get upgraded to king.

For the final picture, I was inspired by a much more recent piece of Breton verse, a 19th-century gwerz (ballad) telling of Arthur arriving in Brittany (on account of being king of all Britons) to slay a dragon and getting help from Saint Efflam. The core story, though, is remarkably consistently preserved from the Vita Euflami, the original saint's life written around 1100. I was captivated in particular by the verse in the gwerz where Arthur announces himself:

Me zo roué ar Bretonet Artur an terrub lessanvet Deut aman deus a Lannion Evit tistruji ann Dragon.

I am the king of the Britons/Bretons Arthur, known as the terrible Come here from Lannion To destroy the dragon.

For one, the way the lyrics flow in the Breton just kinda goes hard, but the bombastic tone and the length of time the story was transmitted across brought a scene vividly to my mind, inspired by the persistent story of Arthur's prophesised return: Modern travellers in the Breton countryside being set upon by a dragon, only for Arthur to miraculously appear with this declaration, defeat the beast and vanish, his original task as hunter and protector fulfilled once more.

So I drew that! Once again, I like sketchy impressionistic monsters. Also, I think the people in the back are lesbians, but that's less of a conscious decision and more just what happens when you ask me to draw two people.

And that's what's been occupying my mind for the past few days! There's a couple more things I could do. Cai and Gwenhwyfar (precusors to Sir Kay and Guinivere) are characters I'd love to whip up designs for, and there's a bunch of really wild scenes in Culhwch. But that'll only be if I'm still feeling this specific creative energy.

Thanks for reading!

[brilliantpride]

LOSTBELT 6: AVALON LE FAE.

i didn’t really feel like writing out a ton of drabbles for this really long really cool lostbelt so instead, i have. Lots of notes of what yako’s up to during the lostbelt. christ ive been working on this for a year and a half, my god

PREPARATION —

   There are three weeks between Heian-kyo and Avalon le Fae. Under the assumption they were to be sent to South America next, Yako spends much of this time stocking up on materials she creates, like healing scrolls and ether shots; practicing her defensive spells, wards, and purification spells; and refreshing her survival skills for wilderness exploration. But, oops, it's Britain actually, good luck.

ARRIVAL — 45 DAYS REMAINING

   Upon arriving in the Lostbelt, Yako is separated from the rest of Chaldea and drawn into the Nameless Forest, whereupon she is taken in by Shub (who had been enjoying the breath of fresh air the Lostbelt gave her) as a knight of the forest, still bearing her holy sword on her hip. She spends many days there, slaughtering invasive Mors that attack the edge of Shub’s forest, before she is rescued by Connla and Kama, who remind her of her true identity. She challenges Shub’s intentions, but as always, the god is inscrutable, and Yako is eventually let out of the woods without a fight.

   Asked what the nature of the forest is, Connla answers it’s a forest which takes away names and lets those within it wander until they die or are killed, permanently lose themselves and go mad, or are taken in by the village in the center - where he found himself when he woke up. He tells Yako that he had been searching for her since he remembered there was someone important he was missing. Kama had been wandering nameless through the woods when Connla found them and restored their memories, as well. There has been no sign of Cú, who would experience the most tampering by this Lostbelt due to the nature of his legends.

   Reunited, Connla, Kama, and Yako set out to find Chaldea and Cú.

AWAKENING — 14 DAYS AFTER ARRIVAL — 31 DAYS REMAINING

   Yako begins her search for Chaldea in a nearby town, but opts to keep their name out of her mouth, in case enemy forces are searching for them. She leaves a note at an inn on the notice board, “To 48, From 43”, reading, “I’m safe, but I need to find my hound. I have my arrows and knife with me. We’ll meet up soon, don’t worry!”

   While traveling in search of Cú, Yako, Connla, and Kama have many adventures, from rescuing travelers from Mors or bandits, to recovering treasures from destroyed villages for displaced fairies, meeting strange ladies who live in lakes, slaying vicious wild beasts attacking farmers, or freeing humans trapped in fairy-made prisons. Yako makes a name for herself among the humans of this land, who wonder if she might be their very own ‘Child of Prophecy’; she rejects this notion out of hand, not because she isn’t confident in her skill, but because she rejects prophecy and destiny, and that whatever prophecy there might be about her, she wouldn’t hear about it.

   While on her travels, Yako encounters Beryl infrequently, having dialogue about what it means to live life on your own terms and the nature of goodness and heroism. He attempts to mock her, but Yako is firm in her beliefs, though she adds complexity to her understanding of herself, and solidifies her answer about what being a hero means for her. Beryl seems annoyed by these answers, and draws Mors to attack her, but she and her Servants are able to put down the threat. He leaves a hint about an impending calamity at Norwich and departs before Yako can deal the finishing blow.

THE CALAMITY OF NORWICH — 26 DAYS AFTER ARRIVAL — 19 DAYS REMAINING

   Drawn by the sound of ringing bells, Yako makes her way towards Norwich, armed with Fairy-made armor and a strengthened Calesvol. Here, she meets up again with Ritsu and da Vinci as they help evacuate citizens to shelters, and then Mash as a Calamity rises from the depths of the sea.

   While Mash deploys her shield to hold off the Calamity, and Ritsu engages their Command Seals to empower her, Yako makes use of a limited deployment of Calesvol; as she’s unable to unleash all of the seals in Fairy Britain, she can’t use the sword’s god-slaying abilities, but its blade is able to cut away at the grasping hands of the Norwich Calamity. They’re able to vanquish the Calamity, saving the town of Norwich, and subverting one of the Prophecies.

   Just after their victory, Mash is forcibly transferred away from Norwich using Morgan’s Water Mirror, and Habetrot joins Ritsu’s expedition until the pair are reunited. Yako learns about the prophecy and Artoria’s role in it, but declines joining Ritsu’s team to meet Morgan; her current priority is finding Cú. With an anxious but resolved heart, her party departs Norwich, certain they’ll meet again soon.

CÚ-SÍDHE — 28 DAYS AFTER ARRIVAL — 17 DAYS REMAINING

   “Those who hear the howl of the cú sídhe must turn and run, or be overtaken by terror.”

   Yako hears a rumor. At night, one can hear howling from the Lake District; those who hear it are doomed to die. Investigating the rumor, Yako's party ends up near Orkney, evading Knocknarea's territory to find themselves in a misty patch of woods. There, they end up at the spearpoint of a young man dressed in warrior's clothes, a wild white hound by his side...

   In these woods, Yako’s party solves the mystery of the cú sídhe, recovers Cú’s memories and sword, and make their way back on the road armed with new knowledge about the nature of fairies in this Lostbelt, and the legend of a giant beast whose body makes up the island. Cú finally reaches his third Ascension, and Yako makes a promise that she’ll let him save her—that she won’t be too proud to call on him for help when she needs it.

--- END OF PART 1 ---

ON THE ROAD AGAIN — 30 DAYS AFTER ARRIVAL — 15 DAYS REMAINING

   While Ritsu has an audience with Queen Morgan, Yako’s gang investigate the myths surrounding the Child of Prophecy, and old, forgotten stories, trying to find out more about the giant beast. Though the fairies in towns have little to say, there are fairies living in out-of-the-way homes outside of Morgan’s notice, where they speak freely of their antipathy for her and her ‘existence tax’. Occasionally, Beryl will reappear to cause problems for Yako, and she insists he drop himself down the Great Pit as soon as possible.

   Residing in Londinium, the last outpost of humans in Fairy Britain, Yako and Cú learn more about the plight of humanity in this land of fairies: though Yako is familiar with their maltreatment at the hands of the upper-class fairies, she’s less familiar with the general state of humans here. They aid the Londinium guard in exterminating Mors near its borders and help repair the ramparts in exchange for food and board.

   Ritsu, Artoria, and company arrive just a few days after Yako’s party does. Reunited with Chaldea, Yako shares her findings, learns more about the state of Chaldea’s mission, and spends time getting to know Artoria. From hereon, Yako rejoins the group as they plan to retake Norwich.

AFTER THE FIRST BELL — 32 DAYS AFTER ARRIVAL — 13 DAYS REMAINING

   Yako talks with the fairies often during these days, trying to get to know them, their goals, and their dreams, though her questioning yields little result. Oberon avoids conversation about himself, not that Yako notices under his smooth-talking spell. She admires his careful and clever nature, is fascinated by his stories, and enjoys learning more about his past and the fairies of Wales. Artoria is not very comfortable around Yako, which she would later find out is due to Artoria's own fear of fire - Yako's primary elemental magecraft. At least she gets along with Gareth and Muramasa...

   At Londinium, the Fang Clan are beaten back, but reports come in that the Queen's army is marching on Wales - where Oberon's forest is. The crew head out with all haste, Yako using magecraft to hasten Red Hare's speed, but arrive too late; the forest burns. They split up to cover more ground; Yako tries to find survivors, but sees only ashes, corpses, and soldiers in need of a thrashing. It's all she can do to put out fires with sprays of water runecraft, but eventually Kama drags her out of the forest, Yako and the boys coughing violently and gasping for breath. Yako wants to go back in, but Kama makes her use her healing scrolls on herself, Connla, and Cú before they die from smoke inhalation.

   At the edge of the burning forest, Fairy Knight Gawain greets them with an ultimatum: Submit now, or die. Artoria, Ritsu's party, and a surprise Muramasa beat Gawain back while Percival, Gareth, and Yako's Servants fend off soldiers. After Gawain is weakened, Artoria reveals her true name: Barghest, the Black Dog. The battle rages into the night, ending in Barghest's defeat and retreat. Yako stands with Percival and Gareth against the just-arrived Fairy Knight Lancelot, who leaves the scene after clashing with Percival. The forest fire has died down, leaving the charred remains of Wales behind.

   Oberon, though... "...Would you give me some time alone? It's going to take some time to say goodbye to each and every one of them."

   Back in Salisbury, Artoria is greeted with a hero's welcome. The group plan for their defense of Londinium and retaking of Norwich, but Yako wanders outside in the early morning air, trying to decide her own next move. Of course she ought to stay with Ritsu and bolster the team, but could she do more good helping them cover more ground? Or staying with the rebel army, helping them fend off threats?... Ahh, no matter which way she figures it, she doesn't want to be far from the action after all. If only they could make tracks in finding Mash. It's really worrying...

AFTER THE SECOND BELL — 34 DAYS AFTER ARRIVAL — 11 DAYS REMAINING

   The second bell is rung, from high atop Salisbury, adding yet another victory to Artoria's belt. The group departs for Londinium, bustling with new recruits from Norwich. Peperoncino has made the effort to show up in person and lay out the situation for Yako, Ritsu, and da Vinci: that the Lostbelt has surpassed 'a possible point in history', instead rapidly becoming a world with the same strength of existence as Proper Human History. Rather than a "Lostbelt", it's a "Lost World". The denizens of this world, being proper existences themselves, wouldn't disappear if the Lostbelt disappeared... and being fairies, born of the earth, could move outside of Avalon, unlike the humans of the Lostbelt.

   "...It means there's a possible future together."

   With this news, Artoria reaffirms her desire to save the fairies of Britain and follow the path of the Child of Prophecy. Yako mulls things over after Pepe leaves. If there's a way to save everyone... why aren't they searching for it? Could they have done anything differently to save the people of the past Lostbelts, while still saving their own world...? And why aren't humans a part of the world to be saved?

   "...Say, Ritsu. Should we have been looking for... a different option?" She rubs her neck. "—Sorry, forget I said that. It's not like we have a lot of options here in the first place. I just..." she says, glancing up at the dusk-blue sky, "...Before, I was frustrated I couldn't do anything... and now, I'm frustrated that what I do isn't enough. There's no way to save everyone. I'm not that optimistic. But I just feel like we're missing information. I wish... I wish we weren't stumbling around in the dark. I wish we knew what else we could do..."

   The attack on Londinium comes quickly as night falls. Woodwose's army strikes fast and viciously, but are driven back by Percival and Gareth; Yako and Ritsu hold the fort as best as they can. Percival activates his spear, revealing it as the Lance of Selection - blowing Woodwose into the lake, and claiming victory.

THE BALL — 39 DAYS AFTER ARRIVAL — 6 DAYS REMAINING

   Ritsu and Artoria receive an invitation to a ball held by Murian in Gloucester. After being properly outfitted by Habetrot, the group make tracks into the city. Yako, having no invitation and not being chosen as a +1, decides to spend her time looking around the city and spending time in Pepe's shop, where she asks about the nature of humans inside the Lost World while they take her measurements. (In the meantime, her team enjoy a trip out on the town on their own, to reconvene later.) Yako expresses her concerns to Pepe, who chastises her for coming this far only to get cold feet. Yako leaves the store with new formalwear and mulls around the gardens outside the castle, waiting for news (and, if Ritsu knows her well enough, some decent food.)

   ...It's boring. What if... The walls look easy enough to climb. There's windowsills here, some facade work there... Before Yako can tell herself if it's a bad idea, she's scaling the wall, no denizens below her to look. She hoists herself into a balcony overlooking the garden... to come face-to-face with the fallen Fairy Knight Gawain - no, Barghest, wearing a fine evening gown. Oops. "You... You're the companion of that human boy. You look like a fairy, but there's something off about you." Barghest grips Yako's shoulder, keeping her in place. Haha. Oops. Hahaha. Danger. "It's almost like you're also..." Just then, the doors open, and she meets Ritsu's gaze, then Artoria's, then da Vinci and Muramasa; they all shoot her an exasperated stare. She gives a peace sign back. Teehee. After some chatting and explaining the circumstances, da Vinci invites Barghest to try to leave for the outside world with the fairies she wants to protect; Barghest invites the group to her manor in Manchester before departing.

   The group sneak around to the bell tower, and Yako infiltrates the party to enjoy some of the banquet before it's gone. After having her fill of chocolates, cake, cheeses, and steak, Yako hears a rumbling above her, faintly... Sneaking past some doors using lockpicking spells learned from her Caster, she makes her way to what seems to be a huge stage and theater seating, with fairies in masks... Not feeling like getting chased around today, Yako hides behind a curtain and watches the fight between Artoria and Fairy Knight Tristan in hiding. (Though she could swear when Beryl waved at the crowd, he glanced her way and smiled... Eugh.) It isn't long before the third bell is ringing for Artoria's victory, and Yako decides to make a speedy exit from the scene.

TO ORKNEY AND BACK — 40 DAYS AFTER ARRIVAL — 5 DAYS REMAINING

   Detouring on their way to Orkney, the gang stops by Barghest's mansion in Manchester. Yako stays behind, saying, "I'll get too angry if I have to look at her face again. I heard the death cries of the fairies in Wales. Even if they don't die for good, they're still..." She roams the town some, picking up rumors, getting into fights, and writing down her thoughts and observations. After the detour, the team make for Orkney, where they see the destroyed remains of this Lostbelt's Tree. Habetrot gives them a brief overview of the history of the Queen's Calendar, which Yako tries to listen to but loses interest halfway through. Later, while making camp, Habetrot shares an even older history, telling the story of 'six fairies, an endless sea, and Cernunnos.'

   While in the Mirror Clan's territory, they drive away Koyanskaya's Mors Dragon, learn Fairy Knight Lancelot's true identity Melusine, and are led by a man taking the guise of Yako's old Caster - Sage Grim, he calls himself - to the bell's location, where they put down the lingering regrets of Tonelico and her Black Knight... and find Mash, who had been sealed away for, apparently, thousands of years. After sorting out the timeline, they ring the bell at Orkney, sort things out with Knocknarea in Edinburgh, and make their way to Oxford.

   Baobhan-Sith attacks Ritsu and co., in the process trapping Artoria, Ritsu, and Yako in the "Garden of Lost Will". Yako wanders scenes from her past, facing her anxieties and fears—wandering a bleached-white Earth alone, after everything she'd done to bring her future back. Endlessly wandering, no friend or foe in sight, only white sand under her feet and blue sky overhead, she starts to give into the despair in her heart when the illusion shatters, dragging her back to reality - to the underground prison of New Darlington.

THINGS GO DOWNHILL — 43 DAYS AFTER ARRIVAL — 2 DAYS REMAINING

   Peperon, Mash, and Yako's Servants free Artoria, Ritsu, and Yako from the prison, and things get very bad, very fast. Peperoncino takes on hundreds of humans infected with Mors, receiving the full brunt of their curses; Beryl attacks, fatally wounding Peperon, but taking the brunt of the Mors curse and a severe wound, then fleeing; and the church above their heads crumbles - Yako blows a hole in the wall to escape out of.  Ritsu and Yako are reunited with da Vinci and get back on the road toward Oxford, where they ring another bell. The Queen's army attacks Londinium, and it's ugly; they lose Gareth and every resident and soldier living in Londinium, even though they eke out a small victory. The nothern army bolsters Londinium's lost ranks, Artoria tolls the final bell, and the armies prepare for the siege on Camelot.

   Yako wrestles with her feelings that evening, and the despairing future she saw in the Garden. Admitting to herself that there are things she still fears, and that the future is a huge unknown, she wonders if she and Ritsu haven't just sealed a terrible fate for themselves... to say nothing of everyone they've lost along the way. She doesn't dare bring it up to Mash, da Vinci, or Ritsu, or even her own Servants, out of fear of seeming like she's lost her nerve. Whatever the future looks like, they have a present to protect.

TIME LIMIT — 45 DAYS AFTER ARRIVAL — 0 DAYS REMAINING

   The day has arrived to lay siege to Camelot. Yako joins the main party and splits off in the upper districts to reconvene at the castle through different entrances. Yako fights past guards, arriving at the throne room in time to fend off attacks against Ritsu's weakened party, though her sword still won't let her attack Morgan directly. She doesn't need to, though; a proclamation from Aurora permeates the city naming Morgan the false Queen and perpetrator of the Calamities, and the fairies of Camelot turn against Morgan, ripping her to shreds. A bell tolls. Its sound is distorted, anything but victorious.

--- END OF PART 2 ---

CALAMITY — 49-50 DAYS AFTER ARRIVAL

   Although it's Chaldea's victory, Holmes urges the gang to prepare for the worst, as there are too many untied loose ends. Castoria elects Knocknarea to be crowned Queen, but Knocknarea is betrayed at the coronation and killed - and the killing spreads to the armies outside. Coral accuses the Chaldea party of poisoning and killing Knocknarea, and sends Melusine to attack them; the party barely manages to escape, and the seat of Queen is left empty. Many fairies are turning into Mors. There's no doubt about it: the Great Calamity has begun in earnest, and the Lostbelt is collapsing. Upon returning to the Storm Border, instrument estimates put the Collapse at 2 days, and the Calamity is arising from the Great Pit.

   Their new directives: Stop the Collapse, and retrieve the Divine Construct Rhongomyniad. They have just a few hours to rest, heal up, restock, and head back out for another battle. Yako uses the materials stash to bolster her Servants' skills, and puts away her various acquisitions from the Lostbelt into a storage container in her room, ensuring the clothes she obtained from Peperoncino will not be harmed.

   The world outside is burning; corpses litter the cities. The temperature in the air is in the thousands of degrees. At Camelot, a giant creature covered in curses has emerged from the Great Pit, and crushes Camelot in its wake with massive curse hands. Koyanskaya's tails fend off the hands, but she soon disappears, cryptic as ever, and the Storm Border barely escapes from Camelot, unable to retrieve Rhongomyniad. If the Calamities aren't stopped here and escape to PHH, they'll incinerate the world. Everything seems lost... until Merlin's friendly face hijacks the screens, illuminating the means for their victory.

   It rests on Artoria's shoulders. She, Ritsu, Yako, Mash, and Muramasa—and only them, he adds—will make their way through Albion's corpse to the Inner Sea of the Planet, and Artoria will complete her true mission. On their way, they fight against the will of Albion, learn the truth of Avalon le Fae and the Insect of the Abyss, and arrive to a paradise unmarred by sin. Yako wonders if she ought to stay at the entrance, but Mash drags her along with the party. It's an utterly beautiful sight that etches itself in Yako's heart; she cries, grateful she had the chance to see something this stirring.

   They fight against Artoria's memories, guiding her through the seasons until she reaches the Place of Selection. Once she arrives, she will become the Holy Sword, stabilize Human Order, and the Lostbelt will fade. The storm inside her heart is vicious, manifesting as the ugly truths she encountered along her journey. At the end, there is no 'Spring' memory awaiting her; no happy memories to call her own. She runs ahead. Yako hangs back, wondering what she ought to say. Muramasa implores them to leave it to him. Merlin, in the meantime, explains the process of Artoria's conversion; Yako becomes angry, then sullen, wondering why she should have to take on such a burden.

   Artoria comes back. Muramasa doesn't. It's not hard to put two and two together. They obtain the Essence of the Holy Sword, the 'Star' that has been born upon the planet. Yako can even feel Calesvol crying out in joy. With Artoria's new skills and the Holy Sword Essence in hand, Merlin sends them to two hours before the Collapse, to defeat Cernunnos before it becomes unstoppable.  —Of course, they have to contend with two other Calamities first. They split their forces: while Yako and Percival deal with the Red Calamity, Albion, Ritsu and Mash handle the Black Calamity, the Black Dog. Yako is finally able to turn her sword against Albion, but Percival is the one to strike its heart.

   Both Calamities suppressed, Yako moves to rejoin Ritsu and Mash, who are exhausted from their own battle. She senses bad energy and creates a weak Bounded Field around them using Seimei's techniques, stopping Beryl in his tracks. While Mash and Ritsu are weakened, Yako fights Beryl with her Servants' and Douman's support, burdening him with curses. Even though her sword won't let itself be turned against Fairies, Yako's absolute conviction in her ideals lets her overrule Calesvol's restrictions, turning it into the Sword of Conviction—and letting her cut Beryl Gut's head from his body. The sword breaks in half, corrupted. Yako watches Beryl's blood soil her boots and leggings. An evil born from a heart like hers, but unlike her in every way, shaped by his choices and the choices of others on him... Silently, she prays that he finds a new start in whatever world lies beyond.

   In fighting Cernunnos, Yako, swordless, stays behind to bolster Caster Cú's magical energy through her old contract's pathways as he deploys his sanctuary spells and absorbs Cernunnos's curses. It's a long and tough battle; Yako holds firm, deploying purification spells to shave off even just a few curses. "After you saved me, all I wanted... was a chance to tell you," she says, fighting through her exhaustion, "what a hero you were to me. How much I looked up to you. ...How much I still do. Your Saber says he looks up to me, too, and I don't know how to feel. I realized that you were just bullshitting things most of the time, trying to act like a little bit like a mentor. Well... Maybe I can be for you what you were for me. Pay it forward. Or back. Even if you don't remember any of this, I feel like it has meaning. It has to. So... thank you for everything. I'll carry on your legacy, whether you like it or not. I'll always wear these Command Spells with pride."

   The twelve spears are deployed, exposing Cernunnos's core; Ritsu and Mash at last deploy the Black Barrel, destroying Cernunnos. Caster Cú, his duty done, offers a few words of encouragement before departing.

A DREAM —

   Oberon reveals his true nature: the Insect of the Abyss, the Pit that will swallow Britain whole, Pretender-class Oberon-Vortigern. The Collapse is still on cue, with a vast fog devouring Fairy Britain. Everything, everything, falls into the void, endlessly falling. Yako falls into a nightmare she can't wake up from, though its contents are hazy. A beautiful star appears in the fog, drawing her out of her nightmare, and waking her up on the surface of the Storm Border just in time to face Oberon-Vortigern with the rest of Chaldea.

   As the battle ends, Yako falls into a dream once more. It's hazy and indistinct, but smells like flowers and sweets. The storm has parted, and she's greeted with twilit colors and a figure clad in white. "That sword has done well, but being pushed past one's limitations is different for those who are created than those who are born. You shouldn't be so rough on your allies, Yako! Hahaha. Now, heed my words: Take this child to the edge of the Inner Sea, and from there, make an offering..."

EPILOGUE —

   At this point, the journey in Britain is over. Chaldea’s mission is completed, and the Lostbelt will disappear soon. Yako, in the last few hours of the Lostbelt’s existence, makes a pilgrimage to return the sundered Calesvol to the Lady of the Lake at the edge of Avalon. Vivian, seeing its damaged state, purifies and repairs the blade using Yako’s own Origin—her soul—as the bridging material. The blade’s silver shines as mana streaks across its blade, and its gems change color to the brilliant crimson dye of her soul. Vivian kisses her forehead, chasing away the weariness in her body. “Fare you well, Chaldean,” she bids, “and may you find victory.” With that, she disappears at the Lostbelt’s edge. Yako returns to the Shadow Border, ready to depart for home.

HOMECOMING —

   After LB6, Yako finds herself adrift back at Chaldea. Following a grand adventure, she struggles a bit to fall back into the rhythms of everyday life. She retreats to the simulation room as she does in her melancholies, often losing herself to fantasies and memories. After a few months, she’s able to find comfort in Chaldea life again, though often seems wistful and can get lost in daydreams. She's developed a new sense of herself with an unshakable certainty. Rather than someone desperately trying to attain an unreachable ideal, Yako seems much more sure of herself, and her playfulness has less neuroticism to it. She seems like she’s finally grown up.

   Her swordplay improves with guidance from Merlin, Lancelot, and Bedivere, and Calesvol’s new evolution lets her imbue the blade with magical effects more easily, giving her an edge against opponents with low magical resistances and against monsters whose forms are composed of magic. It feels as though a mass of her magic circuits have become concentrated in the blade itself, like a part of her body. She can summon it to her side with a thought, letting herself use new and riskier techniques in her swordplay and magic use, but if it becomes damaged, she feels it as keenly as if it were a part of her body. Even her Magic Circuits have been given a boost in quality, letting her use magic and transfer energy to her Servants with far more ease than before. It even seems like the sword is regenerating the part of her magic circuits healed from irresponsible magic use before, though it's slow going.

   With the sixth Lostbelt behind her and the final stretch in sight, Yako resumes her training in earnest. There is an end in sight, and they will see home again. They have to. They must. And yet, a bit of doubt eats away at her: What if the world... is bleached for good? What if there's no 'tomorrow' after today?... All she can do is hope that there is a sunrise waiting for them after it all.

[valiantsword]

FROM: @xx--ofmanythoughts--xx RE: ❛  seems like we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together.  ❜ (andy) STATUS: accepting

arthur had a harder time sticking with the group than he'd like to admit. while booker was handling what job to take next the immortal liked to take the opportunity to go back to cornwall. tourists trampled all over the ruins of his old abode. while there was nothing he could really do about that he could sit in the house he'd built nearby, listen to the waves crashing along the cliffs, and pay homage to the tombs beneath.

not this time, though. this time he checked into a safe house on the outskirts of geneva. for some reason being there reminded him of the chocolates he'd bought joe once. only, those were from antwerp. so, the former king made his way north.

" that's never a bad thing on my end, andy, i hope you know that. " arthur offers what he can in terms of a smile. there's something off that he's trying to put a finger on. until he can define what that is, he decides to straighten his back and stretch. his backpack is resting on one of his boots and the case calesvol hides in is leaning against his left knee. as soon as their ride arrived he was ready to grab both and jump in.

" how've you been? "

[endlight]

ORIGINS OF THE EBONY BLADE

camelot was not magical, nor was it inherently camelot. it started as tintagel, a small kingdom along cornwall's shore; a little bastion against the coming onslaught of the holy roman empire. though based in bloodshed by arthur's grandfather, the legendary king managed to transform the kingdom into a harmonious unit of love, respect, and equality.

the king disappeared more than he actually died. no one saw him after the battle of camlann. still, the land needed leadership. guinevere was grieving and in no place to do so. their last surviving son was too young for anyone to be comfortable with it, so was arthur's nephew. his sister had come to be sincerely disliked by the knights of the round for her discovered lies and manipulation over the years; all for the sake of trying to upend the crown.

nimue was one of few druids who had been allowed to take refuge in tintagel by uther. afraid for their future without stable leadership, she prayed to her own god. cernunnos, the horned one, the lord of wild things, and the dark man of the otherworld. he imparted knowledge to nimue and several other druids attending the rite shortly after arthur's ' passing. ' not only runes but an enchantment to put into a weapon. since arthur's blade, calesvol, had gone missing in the battle they had a new one forged. in it went the protective enchantment and while the blade was still smoldering nimue etched the runes blessed upon her.

myrddin ( merlin ) took the blade first. most of the kingdom deemed him the smartest choice in the interim. little did they realize this new blade would not only protect tintagel but it blasted a door wide open to the otherworld. sometimes known as the weirdworld. a voice came to merlin saying he was now keeper of the door; that whoever wielded the sword would not only be able to cut through any object, escape any death, and deflect any magic. yet, what remained unsaid was that every death upon the tip of the blade fueled the enchantment. it made the enchantment stronger by increasing the link between blade and wielder. at the same time, that bloodlust slowly starts seeping in. the blade starts to crave it until the host is nothing but a bloodthirsty berserker.

some whisper it was not cernunnos at the fire that night but the symbiotic god knull.

( note: this what i've gleaned from comic canon blended with an old guard oc that can be found here. at time of writing there is no mcu explanation for the blade. this history may change if/when/depending on new information provided in futiure projects. )

[negreabsolut]

Escàlibor, per Sylvester0102. [font]

[ria-starstruck]

hale cale + @foileadeux's lithyum sketchdump or something

+ lilith casting spells

[tamaslin]

call each sorrow by name [ao3]

gale/m!tav | rated: T | contains spoilers for act 3

“Gale.” Galatine pulls his hand from him. “I have to return it to him.” “Are you so certain?” Gale can feel his future sifting through his fingers like sand – Mystra’s words warning him that he would do nothing but repeat the mistakes of those that came before him; the sweet promise of proving her wrong when he found his new home among the stars; godhood improved upon by his own two hands.  The same hands now gesture to emphasize his incredulity. He scoffs. “I mean – it was stolen from his domain once before, where it was doing nothing but collecting dust. You know what we can do with that power, my love. What we plan to do with it–” “–What you plan to do with it, Gale.” Silence. Like puzzle pieces, meaning falls into place. “…You promised you would help me see it through.” ––– Following the revelation of the potential within the Crown of Karsus and Gale's plan, the Wizard of Waterdeep is informed of the price of his ambition.

[duunswitch]

You're all stuck with it, now.

[valiantsword]

     a knock at the door tensed every muscle in arthur’s body.  his hand jerks along astoria’s skin, starting to reach for a gun that isn’t within reach.  mentally, the immortal curses to himself.  the .9mm is under the small pile that was the shirt and jeans he’d worn out earlier.  the knife usually sheathed at his ankle is shoved into one of his combat boots stuffed into the closet.  if danger was on the other side of the door the closest thing was calesvol and it was tucked all too safely inside it’s black case.

     the staff member looked normal enough.  arthur did his best to return to the earlier languid state he’d been in when he and astoria were relaxed.  his hand drapes back towards her thigh.  only, this time, the small circles he draws along his skin are meant to keep him grounded.  being too jumpy could get him into trouble just as much as being too lax.  it was stupid to be so short sighted, especially since he’d been more focused on flirting than he had being safe.  if something were to happen and astoria got hurt because of it he’d…well, he really isn’t sure what he’d do.  slap more guilt onto the mounting pile at the very least.

     a step forward makes the immortal tense again.  when the kid produces a bottle of wine and nothing else, arthur audibly sighs his relief.  his muscles, while not completely relaxed, loosened enough that he melted back into the mattress.  that, in turn, allows him to witness the confusion that crosses the other’s face when a choice is offered.  “ the red’s a merlot.  figured it a safe guess.  the whites are a riesling and a type of viennese wine i enjoyed last time i was here.  if you don’t enjoy any of those we can dig out the menu.   think i tossed it in one of the drawers. “

     cart close, dumplings likely under that silver dome between the empty glasses, and room free of staff once again he finds the relief palpable.  he was about to slip from beneath astoria’s body when the word sex knocked him upside the head like a deadly right hook.  he’s not a prude and he’s had his fair share over the centuries.  certainly not as much as andy can gloat and likely not as much as nicky and joe indulge in.  at the same time, arthur finds himself a little more old fashioned in the sense that some kind of connection was necessary.  there was mention of opera, right?  he’d heard something about opera.  italian?  fiji?

          this woman was going to get him permanently killed with distractions like these.

      “ have to say i agree with you on that one. “  telling her it rarely happens is a little too much on the honesty front, right?  no sense in coming across as lonely and not fun.  right?  or to give the impression he’s so inexperienced he could potentially be bad at it, right?  “ with all the travel i mentioned it doesn’t make sense to give in to anything serious.  plus, imagine trying to date someone in this environment.  what do you even tell them about your day?  i killed a warlord today, love, how was your section at the restaurant?  should be home by the weekend.“  arthur winces at himself then sighs.  which would make him a fool for daydreaming about this progressing beyond desi’s current mission or even having the chance to getting to know her better.   how would that work?  who even lived a life like this and wanted something serious?

     “ i listen to music.  boring, i know, “ arthur’s exposed shoulder shrugs.  “ haven’t found a mood that couldn’t be complimented by a song, though.  if i’m not in the mood for that then i read.  there is the very rare occasion i’m so twisted up i need to punch something but that tends to be more trouble than it’s worth. “

     the magic show is about as unexpected as the statement that it leaves traces over everything it touches.  logic would then dictate that his immortality was not connected to any kind of magical spell.  if it were she’d be able to tell and, arthur has to assume, would have mentioned something by now.  that would also tell him whatever’s in the book they’re hunting down wasn’t going to give them the answers they were looking or hoping for.  

     arthur is even more surprised to discover that makes him sad.  he’s tired.  so fucking tired of the way he lives his life.  telling someone else about it makes him feel even worse.  when was the last time he had a connection with anyone who wasn’t immortal?  several hundred years ago.  he hasn’t had a family in about fifteen centuries.  truth be told, he’s about tapped out on energy to talk around with.  

     “ i see… nothing, “ his hand lands on astoria’s thigh to try and pull himself just that fraction closer to her hands.  he can see the water beading, evaporating, and freezing but no tendrils.  no thin lines or any indication that any of it is happening with magic.  other than the fact that it’s all suspended mid-air.  “ the explanation makes sense, though.  does that mean you can untangle that cursed thread if you wanted?  but don’t because you two have that mutual understanding? “  no judgement just pure curiosity.

     “ it’s easier, “ is the soft answer that automatically comes from the travel question.  for a moment, arthur stares at the way his finger moves along the curve of astoria’s thigh.  she deserves more than that.  this entire time she’s been incredibly forthcoming with her own history.  clamming up now would be rude even if she said he doesn’t have to answer.  but, before he does, he lifts onto his elbow so he can refold the pillow.  once settled back down, arthur licks over his bottom lip to start again.  “ at this point it’s easier because i’m so used to it.  i’ve been on my own for a very long time.  even the team i told you about, being around them is… “  the immortal’s lips hover open as he searches for the words.

     “ i lead a unit at one point. “  unit being a kingdom but that was a can if worms he couldn’t open.  “ and i just feel like death and destruction follows me wherever i go.  traveling alone feels safer in the long run, even if it’s incredibly lonely. “  but you get used to it is the unspoken ending to that sentence.  instead of saying it out loud, arthur hugs the pillow a little more tightly.

     “ guessing a simple ‘ desi told me to ‘ is a little too obvious,  “ arthur grins at the ceiling.  his head tilts because, honestly, that had been the answer.  “ he said i’d like you, “ comes out without arthur meaning it to.  “ and, i admit, that made me curious.   when we first met i… well, i found that i really did.  coming with you means i get to enjoy your company a little longer.  i get to hear that radiant laugh.  i get to bask in the way you get excited about things…which is probably too much honesty.  really, i can sleep on the floor. “ 

She opens her mouth to answer when there's a knock at the door—the wine, no doubt, and she calls out a polite come in, though she finds she resents the interruption. One of the members of the hotel staff rolls in a cart with the bottles and a covered plate, and Astoria nods cheerfully as he gives them both what she can only assume is a thorough explanation regarding each bottle. She doesn't move from where she's settled, drumming her fingers lightly against Arthur's knee, and for a moment she imagines the sight: affectionate, comfortable, domestic. She'd buy it, if she saw it.

The problem is that she buys it now, which means she's either going to have to do something to get this out of her system, or she's going to have to give in to it sooner than later. She's never been much for denying herself what she wants; enough of her life is spent alone, her exile overlapping with a self-imposed penance for youthful and foolish trust in other people.

(She's twenty-five and miserable, her uncle helping her carry the last of her boxes into the house. Her father had been threatened with expulsion and exile just the same as hers if he stepped foot on her land, and so she'd shushed him when he said fuck them, you're my daughter. She could survive without community; even after so little time with him, she knew that he'd suffer. Viktor's hands settle on her shoulders and he squeezes them lightly; only twelve years apart, they grew up more like siblings than anything. You're going to have to forgive yourself someday, he says, and she knows that even if he doesn't understand why she's punishing herself, he understands that she is. And maybe Viktor was right. Maybe she's closer to that day than she imagined.)

It's only when their visitor turns towards her with a bottle of red in one hand and a bottle of white in the other that he seems to realize she hasn't understood a word he was saying. He looks distraught for a moment, then clears his throat and, she presumes, begins his speech again in slow but sure English, until Astoria holds up a hand with a warm smile.

"It's fine," she insists, "could you just push the cart over here?" Once it's close enough to the bed that she won't have to move to reach it, she points to the pair of jeans she'd left draped over the chair at the desk. "And could you reach into that pocket and—yes, thank you—" He hands her his wallet and she tips generously enough that when she asks him to put a do not disturb on the door, he doesn't hesitate.

But her eyes are back on Arthur practically before she's finished speaking, and she makes no movement away from him, the need for wine forgotten in favor of enjoying where she is.

"It might be me being a snob," she says after a moment, and now she leans her whole body into him, and she has to expend more energy than she'd like to keep herself from staring at his hand on her thigh or inching forward to drive it higher still, "but the key really is to start with Italian opera." She lets out a contented sigh at the thought, and her grin widens as she leans forward, tone dropping to a playfully conspiratorial whisper. "When we get sick of Fiji, I'll convert you on the opera issue."

She settles back again, all too easily. She'll have a hell of a time leaving him when this is all done, enough so that she thinks she just... might not. It's an insane thing to think, especially so soon, and maybe she really does need to just get it out of her system. Maybe part of the appeal is that he's new, and that for all the honesty of the past few days, he still doesn't know her all that well.

And some part of her knows that it would be easy. She knows what she looks like. She's seen him looking at her often enough that she knows he's just as aware of it. And if she made a move now, she sincerely doubts he'd have any inclination towards putting a stop to it. Getting it out of her system would be simple. Straightforward. Exactly what she's used to, these days. The problem is that she doesn't want to get it out of her system. She's enjoying that he's somehow slipped past the professional and the defensive, and that he seems to like knowing her as much as she likes letting him.

What does she do to relax? This, apparently. "Sex," she answers honestly. "It's been ages since it was anything serious—fuck, close to a decade—but nothing works out tension like getting your legs bent behind your head." Just because she wouldn't want this to be a one-off doesn't mean she isn't going to tease. "I started aerial silks a few years ago, just for the hell of it. Used to dance when I was a kid—ballet. I wasn't great at it, but it made me flexible. Beyond that, magic, honestly. Here. Watch."

She moves only enough to free both her hands, and she pulls her hair, still wet, over her shoulder. It's the same trick she used before, though this time for an entirely different purpose. "Every bit of magic leaves traces. If you've got the gift, you can usually see it, once you learn how to look." A twitch of her fingers, a twist of her hand, and the water still clinging to her hair gathers into the palm of her free hand. "You might catch a glimpse of it if you watch it carefully." She can see it, like gossamer threads connecting the water to her body, as the water begins to bubble in her palm; she lifts her other hand about a foot above the first, palms facing each other, and with a bit of concentration, the water evaporates, only to freeze as it hits her skin again. Within moments she's created a little snowfall, and her fingertips glow a pale white. "The curse on that sword I told you about? It's got those traces too. If you learn how to identify each thread, you can learn what binds a spell, and how to untangle it, or change its nature. It's a puzzle. And once you've learned how to manipulate one of those elements, you can do it pretty much anywhere. Like healing—it's all water. Water in the skin, in the bone, in the blood, and once I find that, I can nudge the body to do what I need it to do."

Her fingers flick out and the water dissolves into the air, and she returns her hand to where it was, resumes the rhythm she's been tapping against his knee. "Why do you travel alone so often? Is it just work? You seem to enjoy the company. Sorry. That's personal, I know." But she thinks they might be edging beyond the boundaries set against personal questions. "You don't have to answer if you'd rather not. I won't push." And she pauses, then, before she asks the question she's been asking herself, the question she can't shake. "Why'd you agree to come with me?"

[the-creative-lounge-blog]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Naruto Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Fusou/Jiraiya (Naruto), Jiraiya (Naruto)/Original Female Character(s), Jiraiya/Tsunade (Naruto), Katou Dan/Tsunade, Jiraiya & Orochimaru & Tsunade (Naruto), Hatake Sakumo/Original Female Character(s), Tsunade & Uzumaki Mito Characters: Fusou (Naruto), Jiraiya (Naruto), Tsunade (Naruto), Orochimaru (Naruto), Katou Dan, Hatake Sakumo, Yuuhi Shinku, Sarutobi Hiruzen, Namikaze Minato, Hiruko of Mount Shumisen, Uzumaki Mito, Hatake Kakashi's Mother Additional Tags: Second Shinobi War, War, Action/Adventure, Konohagakure | Hidden Leaf Village, Politics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon - Manga, Canon Timeline, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Multiple Relationships Series: Part 4 of The Way of Yin & Yang Summary:

In the tumult of the Second Shinobi World War, one truth has been made completely and utterly clear: that Team Hiruzen, since dubbed the Sannin, have one of the strongest but most dysfunctional relationships that the village has ever known. To an outsider looking in, however, even one so fated isn't necessarily spared from the strangeness and charm.

[latte-abstract]

hello art dump for artfight and my own chars or something