#It was started back in september I think

[stestir]

[leonardburton]

the thing is. juno & nureyev's relationship has been such a major guiding thread throughout the podcast and the major drive of season 5, and the fandom has built itself so much (as fandoms often do) around shipping the two of them.

and yet nureyev doesn't show up at all in the last episode! or, he does, but it's only implied (for all we know it could be like. alessandra strong)(i know it's not but it would be really funny) and we don't hear his voice.

and it's so important to me that despite the room that their romance has taken in the plot and in our hearts, his absence reinforces that the point of juno steel's story wasn't a lady getting his man, it was about learning to grow as person for himself and for his friends (and not just his love interest), and it was about finding his footing in life and being at peace with himself and his place in the world. and he did! his growth and relative serenity is so apparent and just. a balm to the soul

and the fact that his man is back is just a nice add-on, not a necessity for his happiness

[windydrawallday]

I always fall over heels for the intrepids like 7; I tend to stick to creative-driven characters like 6; and... surprise: I love the jerkass leader 1 because... Do you think I need excuses? Yes? No?

Old doodles circa 2020... well, not so old but still makes me feel old (did this during my years learning to paint my photo-scan doodles with a mobile phone app) but because I didn't have time to do proper new artwork for the anniversary of this dear movie (I try to do it every September) I thought why not share some of the art I have so far?

So, before this month closes I'll show some of my favs, yay!

[cuubism]

Hey, i hope i'm not being super annoying by asking this but do you ever plan on finishing 'In Waking Dreams'?

This fic is probably one of my favorites of you (along with 'some kinda benefits', 'The Apocalypse Is Nigh!', 'my eyes are up here' .... honestly if i go throught all my bookmarks we would be here all day, your writting is just that incredible aksjka) and it has lived in my head for so long, i love how hob's initial reaction to the news of "you have a husband" is simply oh fuck yeah, i love the whole set up of the marriage just happening because dream said yeah sure why not, what could ever come from this? and then slowly actually falling in love with hob, i love the tenderness that which you write them with when they actually reunite and just, i really love the whole fic 😅

So yeah, i hope you find in you that Dante Alighieri spark of fanfiction inspiration to pick it up again it one day, is a really good story ^w^

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

i am, yes! i've been ever so slowly working on it

i often find that after the climax is the hardest part of a story to write, especially if it's a really obvious and delineated climax like 'hob rescues dream' - before that you always have the climax as a north star, if you start getting lost you just remember that you're supposed to be going in that direction, but afterwards it's like... where does it go now? there's a lot to wrap up and you want to try to do it organically, not just like... infodump all the answers to the outstanding questions XD so i'm slowly poking away at that.

this is making me think that i should probably just write the very last scene of the fic (don't know what that is yet) and then i'll have a new north star...

but here's a small bit from the beginning of the chapter

--

Hob’s home was in a bit of a state, thanks to all the crazed research and rescuing he had been doing. Books and ledgers left open, a mug of tea still cooling on his desk, jumper thrown across the couch instead of put away. He tried to remember, as he led his husband to bed, hand low on his back to guide him, if their home in dreams had ever been in such disarray. Home was a bit of a nebulous concept, in their dreams. They had had many different houses over the years, the details of which were hard to remember upon waking. Really, home was the man beside him, an inexorable force that drew Hob back, across landscapes and time, from cottage to manor to palace. King, he thought, it coming to him again, the way dreams appeared and disappeared as context called them. The ragged, slumped form of the creature beside him, leaning into Hob’s side for support. Hob remembered taking his hand, pressing his lips to those fragile bones. My king, he’d murmured, at his side, in bed, like he was in a fairytale. A king would have a kingdom. A kingdom of dreams? His king of dreams turned to him as they stopped by the bed. Now that the rush of power, of darkness, had bled off him, he looked haggard, swamped in Hob’s coat, which was still all he was wearing. Strange, so strange to be here, in Hob’s so ordinary bedroom. Not the half-remembered palace of a hazy dream-life, but just here, standing by the bed. Hob, and his dream-walker. He had come to him, hadn’t he? Once, or so he’d said. Hob didn’t remember the specific instance of someone ringing his doorbell and not being there, but he could imagine it. God, if he’d been just a moment sooner in opening the door. If his Dream had been just a moment sooner in knocking. “Hob,” said his husband, in his solemn, sleepy voice. Hob had missed that voice. The dreams he had had of him, the ones that were memories, were never quite the same, never quite right. He said nothing else, like Hob’s name was all he had wanted to say. So Hob said it back—“my Dream”—and the softening of his husband’s face was worth everything.

[alluralater]

hey everyone, i won’t be as active for a while. got home last night super late after being on the road for 20 some odd hours. dealing with some family things and as an older sister, my priority of taking care of my siblings comes first before anything else. being on here is amazing for me but i don’t think i’ll have much time for it. reminder to please treat those in your life who are battling addiction with patience and care. i lost my older brother (sweetest person i’ve ever known and he remained that way up until his last night) to suicide and alcoholism, trauma and ptsd, depression and his feelings of hopelessness. talk with the people you care about. another of my siblings is dealing with the same and i refuse to let it escalate to such a terrifying end twice in less than a fucking year. remind the people you care about that there are beautiful things to live for. show them kindness and love. there is all kinds of misinformation out there but know this, you can make a difference for someone. don’t let them suffer in silence.

[golyadkin]

ok i finished editing the final draft of endless mouth last night which you would think would mean i'm at peace but unfortunately there are other words in there¹

my brain

[inkykeiji]

i love it when he sits like this ฅ^•⩊•^ฅ

if you’re reading this, wesley and i hope you have a good thursday!! <3 sorry i’ve been so absent lately, i promise i’m not gone forever, just taking a lil breather c: busy living life and writing without putting any pressure on myself! lately i’ve been (yet again) daydreaming about starting to vlog for no reason other than wanting to capture my life in a way that is creative and expressive—a moving visual gratitude journal, if you will. thinking very much about my autobiographical film class, chantal akerman, and italianamerican (which might be my favourite scorsese film ever >.<)

[spaghett-onaplate]

responses to rehearse bc i'm seeing my grandparents tomorrow and they have a tendency to ask weird questions about the whole trans thing:

that's a personal question

that isn't your business

that's a weird thing to ask

you don't need to know that

i never said that

i don't know why you think that

[uygfiug]

thought my school was finally going to try & help me next year but it sounds like theyre just trying to get me to act normal without actually helping

[buckera]

.

[batshaped]

never satisfied

[dimonds456]

Gonna take a break from Tumblr for a while, I think. My mental health has been plummetting, and I need time to get back on my feet.

Though a large part of it is definitely the on-going genocide, my eyes are still on Palestine. If I reblog anything in the next few days, it'll more than likely be either personal stream stuff (huge maybe on that) or Palestine news.

I'm okay, I'm not going to do anything drastic, I just need to take a step back and take a breath. If anyone needs me, DMs are good, or if you can reach me on Discord that would be better.

See ya when I see ya. Eid muburak.

-Dimonds

[whisperprime]

Edit: Somehow a ton of paragraphs got moved around before posting this. Not sure how that happened, but they should all now be fixed now.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Interlude | Part 11 | Part 12

It rains near nonstop over the following day, but it puts little damper on Hob's good mood.

For the first time in centuries, he knows he will see Dream again. He doesn't have a precise date, but he will see him again.

And it won't be life or death or some other traumatic reason.

He hopes.

The thought buoys up his good mood and keeps it there through the morning and well into the afternoon.

Lucas, the head of his team of contractors, has been eyeing him all day. Hob is a little surprised it takes the man as long as it does to finally comment on it. "You’re in a good mood today. Meet someone new last night?"

Hob took a moment to finish sanding the area of the bar he had been working. They had just recently installed it and he'd wanted to try and knock out the staining and finish before the end of the week. Spot to his liking, he turned his attention to his nosey, friendly acquaintance. "No, no one new."

Lucas raises an eyebrow. His look is far too knowing. "Ah, one of those." He pats Hob on the shoulder, telegraphing the intent before following through when Hob doesn't move away, as he passes to get some more paint. "Old flames can be alluring, but you're just as likely to get burnt the second time."

Hob makes a noncommittal noise, both at the touch and the comment. From what he's observed, Lucas is always tactile with those around him that will let him get away with it. He thinks it his way of showing that he's come to see Hob as one of the boys.

He also thinks Lucas views him as a feral cat in need of getting used to human touch. Hob blames that on the fact that the first time the blond man had done it, the immortal had flinched so hard he'd spilled his drink. It had been the first time Hob had been touched by someone other than Dream since he'd been rescued.

Lucas had been more mortified than Hob had been, the latter brushing off the apologies. He hadn't explained why he'd flinched, but he had assured Lucas that it was fine to touch him, just warn him first. None of the rest of his crew were quite so tactile, but word had still spread amongst the group.

Since then, there was always a pause for permission before any contact.

Hob still felt the twinge of fear that Mammon had stolen the ease and love he'd had with touch, even as he reminded himself that all wounds took time to heal from.

Amy snorts from where she was tackling another wall. She's one of two women that made up Lucas' six-person crew. "You only say that because you have terrible taste in partners."

Mary, the second woman, laughs from near by Amy. "All of them might as well be incubi, for all Lucas can't stay away from them."

Lucas points a paint brush at them. "You're both just jealous I have an eye for excellent looking men."

The women made a few jeers at his exspense. Lucas might have an eye for great looking men, but he was not great at distinguishing keepers from one's that really should have remained one night stands.

Hob joins in their merriment. "It's not nearly that exciting. Just ran into an old acquaintance I thought I might not see again. Said they'd come by sometime."

Mary gives him a sympathetic hum. "Oh, but we know that look, luv. You definitely want them to be more than that."

Hob won't deny it, but he also doesn't want to prod this topic too much. His hopes are far too close to being up. "Cheeky, the lot of you. Am I paying you to build my pub or tease me?"

"Both!" Six voices ring out together. Hob contemplates flicking paint at them but doesn't care to start a paint fight when he still needs to get this bar table taken care of.

He finishes it within the next few days, which is just as well. In the weeks leading up to the start of the new term, Hob is forced to switch his focus from working on the New Inn with the builders to preparing for returning to the classroom.

Seeing the office that will soon be his home away from home feels like some integral part of himself sliding back into place. He wasn't always a teacher in the time between the Other Dream's death and when he met the Herald, but it was a preferred profession.

Add all this to teaching at a new school for the first time and Hob's feeling really good about his near future.

The afternoon of the day before the start of classes, Hob retreats out to a bench not far from the Inn. The contractors hadn't been in that day, so Hob had been taking it as an excuse to take some down time before everything went straight into the chaos that was the start of any semester.

The weather outside is a nice 21°C and Hob just takes a moment to close his eyes and bask in the sunlight. He has had ample opportunities over the summer to get some sun, and even taken many of them, but it still hasn't gotten old.

Hob's lounging spot is close enough to the park to hear the sounds of other people also taking advantage of the good weather, but far enough away so as not to be bothered by them. He is getting better with crowds, but he still finds them to be overwhelming after a while. There are too many people to keep track of and he has difficulty truly relaxing.

He absolutely could not allow himself to close his eyes and let his guard down in one. This is the other reason he had chosen this spot. Close enough to hear civilization, but far enough away that the sounds of a crowd would not drown out the noise of someone approaching while he has his eyes closed, face turned up to the sun.

It's been a fairly good system, so far.

Which is why he nearly jumps out of his own skin when he hears someone take a seat beside him.

Hob tenses. The average human shouldn't have been able to sneak up on him, so this is either the not so average human or something not human at all.

He's aware the being he's waiting for is perfectly capable of sneaking up on him, and has already done so once in this new timeline, but one doesn't spend 96 years not knowing when a demon is going to come for them without becoming more than a little hyper vigilant.

Hob slowly cracks an eye open and tilts his head to the side to get a look at his guest.

And all at once feels the tension drain out of him as he sees that it is, indeed, Dream.

"You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days, dove," he says as he relaxes back down onto the bench.

Dream nods in acknowledgement of the critique. He does not give any promises that it will not happen again.

Git.

Hob huffs as he sits up properly. “Good timing, as usual, though. If you showed up this time tomorrow, I’d be neck deep in afternoon classes.”

The Dream Lord raises an eyebrow at that. His attention focuses fully in that way that Hob has come to know that Hob has said something he finds of curious. “You are returning to school.”

“Yes, but not as a student.” The immortal grins and does a partial bow, similar to how he’d done when he’d introduced himself as a knight in 1589, but while still sitting. “Professor Gadsen, at your service.”

Something warms behind Dream’s eyes in much the same way they had when Hob had told him he’d started in the printing profession. “You’ve become a teacher.”

Hob straightens back up, his hand going to his ear in slight embarrassment. He’s forgotten how nice it felt to have his old friend look at him like that. “I did some off and on work as a professor in the other timeline. Must have taught at a dozen different schools. Didn’t always do it, but it’s probably my favorite profession, with publishing after that.”

Dream tilts his head to the side at the reminder that Hob has lived this whole other life. “What subject?”

Hob doesn’t know if he means what he’s taught in the past or if he means this time around. Decides to stick with the present, for now. “History 101, this time. Got my first two classes tomorrow.”

Dream nods. He falls silent, afterword, seriousness settling back on him like a cloak.

Hob, knowing this was unlikely to be a simple pleasure trip, waits to see what this is about.

He’s not kept waiting long. 

“I have some questions about the memory.”

Ah. Of course.

Hob sighs. “I think it would be best to move this conversation indoors.” He stands up and points over his shoulder. “I know a place we can chat uninterrupted, if you’re okay with a change in scenery.”

The Endless nods his consent, before rising to his feet as well. He follows as Hob starts heading back home. “Where are we going?”

The immortal throws a smile over his shoulder and points to the building in question. “Just a little something I’ve been working on for the last five months. She’s not done yet, but she’s getting there.” He near bounds up to the door as they near it. Opens the door and holds it open for Dream to enter for. “May I present: The New Inn.”

Dream pauses in the doorway, taking in the room before him. Most of the structure is finished, along with the bar and back room. He hasn’t gotten all of the appliances for the kitchen just yet, nor has he brought in even a fraction of the table and chairs, but there is a fridge and stove back there, along with a single table and chair out on the main floor that Hob, Lucas, and his crew take breaks out.

It’s not quite how he’d hoped to first introduce it, but he’ll take his victories where he can.

When Dream finally enters, allowing Hob to follow, he slowly works his way around the bar and into the main sitting area. A single, pale hand reaches out and runs along the lacquered surface of the bar table. “The New Inn is a pub?”

Hob puts his hands into his pocket to keep them from giving away his nervousness. Is glad he did when his old friend turns to face him fully, something intense laying behind those blue eyes staring back at him inquisitively.

“Yeah.” Hob answers simply. “I built her the first time, too.”

He watches as the implications of the statement lands. Blue eyes briefly darken, before that heat is banked. 

Hob clears his throat. Gestures to one of the seats, as he offers, “Would you like some tea? I think I have a brew you’d like in stock.”

He knows full well that Dream will like it. It had taken a few tries, but he and the Other Dream had found one he’d like. It hadn’t done anything for him, truly, the way tea drank in a dream would, but he’d enjoyed the taste of it. Hob had made sure to keep some on hand in the decades that followed, even if he couldn’t bear to drink any of it, just so he wouldn’t forget.

Dream nods as he takes the seat and Hob quickly escapes back into the back.

The excuse of making tea gives him the chance to settle himself. Knows that this isn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. Curses the fates, again, for the memory having somehow followed him. 

Maybe dawdles a bit more than he should, because he really doesn’t want to talk about this. Hob briefly daydreams about hiding up in his flat upstairs, until he belatedly remembers that the being in the other room can hear daydreams and that really is going to give off the wrong impression.

Sure enough, when he returns to the sitting area, Dream looks like he’s mere minutes away from getting up and hunting him down. Hob chuckles softly at the look, ignoring the glare he gets in response for his amusement. “Sorry, dove. I wasn’t really going to do it.”

Dream’s glare turns to something more considering, as it sinks in that Hob was saying he wasn’t planning on following through with his daydream. He clearly wants to interrogate the immortal human over what all he knows. 

Hob isn’t about to hide that from him, but he’s kind of enjoying being the mysterious one for a change and he’s not about to give up all his secrets unless asked for them.

It seems that line of questioning is for another day, because what Dream asks is: “What originally happened in 1916?”

The wave of anger, both old and new, is familiar, and Hob doesn’t try to tame of his face as it twists into a snarl. “Some half-assed magician thought he could summon Death. Planned to try and get her to bring back his son.” He wrapped his hands around his mug in a way that suggested he wished it was something else. Blue eyes ticked down to them, cataloging the response. “Wasn’t Death he got though.”

The room around them dropped several degrees, anger and affront in the downwards twist of Dream’s lips. “Did he not understand the damage he would have done to his world?”

Hob took a sip of his tea - the same flavor as Dream’s - and shrugged. “He wasn’t affected, so what did he care?” He placed the mug back down on the table. “Bastard died in 1926. To my understanding, it was his son that held your counterpart captive for the most of the time he was down there.”

He thinks of Alex Burgess, who fled Fawney Rig to run off with the man he loved. Wonders what was so different this time that he found the courage to run away rather than lock himself in a prison of his own making. Ponders if it was possibly because Paul had been else where, and as such, was a stronger lure away.

It was a thought.

Dream seems to finally remember that tea was placed in front of him. He takes a sip as he ponders this new information. Pauses to stare down at the liquid like he’s never seen tea before and Hob knows he’s scored a win with the flavor. The tea gets an almost mournful look as Dream drags his attention away from it. “Who was it that tried to summon my sister?”

Hob contemplates the pros and cons of sic’ing Dream of the Endless on Roderick Burgess. Finds himself asking, instead, “Does it matter? They didn’t succeed.”

Dream breathes out slowly, lips a thin line of unhappiness. “Perhaps you have a point. They would be long dead by now anyway.”

Hob holds his tongue and lets the misunderstanding go. He does not correct him to protect Burgess from Dream, but rather because it feels too much like he would be turning his friend into a weapon if he told the truth.

He has already done that once before. He never plans to do it again.

No. He will deal with Roderick Burgess himself when the time comes.

The immortal human finishes his tea in a single gulp, savoring the sweet peppermint taste. It isn’t one of his favorites, personally, but he can still enjoy it. Especially with how long it’s been since he’s last had any. “Mm. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get some more tea.” He tips the empty cup in Dream’s direction. “Do you want anything else while I’m back there?”

Dream shakes his head, an air of distraction to the movement.

Hob does not try to stall a second time. Really just wanted some more tea. When he returns to the sitting area, he’s almost surprised to see the Dream Lord is still there.

And frowning at him. “What?” He hadn’t even daydreamed about escaping this time!

“You are still limping.”

“Oh, yes.” The immoral human returns back to his seat. “I don’t have the networks I had the first time around, so I have to wait until I can find a new doctor who’s willing to fix it but not ask any questions.” He would have been more than happy to look someone up from the first time around, but it’s been 273 years since he lived this year. He thinks he deserves to be forgiven for not remembering anyone’s names except the important ones.

Dream studies him. Carefully, he says, “I could fix it for you.”

Hob stares at him. “What?”

Dream gives him a look that states that he heard right the first time and he’s not going to get a repeat of it.

Hob coughs and shifts in his seat. The thought of those pale hands touching his ankle doing some odds things to his higher brain functions. “Sorry, dove. I just didn’t think this would be something you’d do.”

He gets a strange look in response, although he’s not sure over what. “I have broken things far stronger than human bones before.”

Oh, Hob has little doubt about that. Still, it’s not something he was expecting to have to deal with tonight, and finds himself at war between finally dealing with the issue and wanting more time to prepare for it.

He remembers that these aren’t things you’re ever prepared for. There isn’t really a reason to put it off. If set right, the bone will be healed by morning. He'll have to come up with a cover story for the sudden disappearance of his limp though.

Taking a deep breathe, he nods. “Let me run up stairs to grab something to bite on real quick. Won’t take more than a few minutes.” 

He’s halfway out of the chair, when Dream rises to his feet instead. “There is no need.” He holds out his hand, palm up and facing Hob, who suddenly finds himself flashing back to a certain encounter in 1789.

Instinctively, Hob goes completely still. “What are you doing?”

“I wish to sedate you.” Dream nods to the chair he’d just been getting out of. “You will want to sit back down first. I will wake you when it is over.”

Hob relaxes a fraction and his face splits into a smile at the consideration. “It's a kind offer, but I've dealt with worse.” 

Dream has the same stubbornness to him as when Hob tried to will off sleep right after his rescue. “If you will not do it for your peace of mind, then do it for mine. I will inevitably hurt you, Hob Gadling. I do not wish for this to be one of those times.”

“Ah, dove. How can I say no to that?” Hob feels himself folding like a wet tissue paper. He’s sitting before he even makes the decision to do so. “Yes. Yes, you can send me off to your kingdom for a bit.”

That pale hand starts to rise again just as a thought crosses Hob’s mind. He holds up his hands to block his eyes, as if that would actually protect them. “Wait!”

Dream pauses, and there’s a flash of irritation as his patience appears to be wearing thin at the interruptions. He near snaps, “What?”

The idea is mad and he’s likely pushing it. But Hob never got anywhere without being willing to take risks. And this is a risk he’s always loathed never taking. “Will you join me?” At the look of confusion, he elaborates, “In the dream.”

One of those elegant dark eyebrows goes up. “Why?”

Hob’s fingers go to his ear, nervousness winning out. “I want to thank you for this. For the rescue, too.” He drops his hand and squares his shoulders. “Let me treat you to a meal, in the Dreaming.”

Dream considers him, a knowing look in his eyes. “You do not owe me anything, Hob Gadling.”

He knows, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to spend more time with him. To take every chance he can get while he still can. “Maybe, but I still want to.”

A long silence. He’s just starting to fear he’s pushed too far, when, “Very well. I will join you for this meal.”

Hob feels his heart soar. He near leaps to his feet. “Well, if this is going to take a while, perhaps we should do this upstairs? We’ll be less likely to be interrupted if I sleep on my couch then down here.”

Dream hums in response to this. Hob gets the impression he’s said something of interest, but he’s not sure why living in the Inn would catch his interest. “You do not need to stop at the couch.” The immortal human pauses as he’s opening a back door that leads to the stairs to his flat. There’s that mischievous grin again that tells Hob he’s about to get another bombshell. “We can do this just fine in your bed.”

Hob feels his jaw drop. “Are you teasing me?”

The look he receives in return is too innocent looking to be for real. “Am I?”

Oh, one of these days, Hob is going to have his sweet, sweet revenge on this insufferable creature. He really will.

In the meantime, he’s just going to bemoan the fact that he’s totally not cleaned his bedroom recently and he had clearly not thought this through as well as he thought he had.

Part 13

[lairmadness]

hiatus notice!

It's been a long time!! We are both well, but life has been collectively kicking both our asses a little bit, and the prospect of picking up and running the blog as consistently as we used to is feeling kind of daunting as a result. So we're going to step back for a little while and work on some other stuff while we clear our heads, and come back later ready to continue.

(how much later? unsure! But hopefully not long, we still both care a lot about the blog and its story. This isn't the last you'll see of it by a long shot :))

Additionally, both mods have both moved main blogs over the past few months- you can now find us instead at @alien-shmalien and @creaturelytracker.

Take care!!

[bloomingbluebell]

me, who started uni thinking i was entirely neurotypical and able-bodied but just lazy: i'm a failure for how long it's taking me to finish this degree. i'm a failure for being unable to get a job while i do so, much less handle it while i study. i don't deserve to take a semester off, i need to be doing something. i need to be able to support myself somehow. i'm failing at life

random voice in my head: you're not even 25 yet. most of your classmates are the same age as you. you can only handle so much and the threshold is much lower for you than for an able-bodied and -minded person. everyone deserves a break and should be able to take one without consequence and it's a shame that you don't feel you deserve it. the milestones you're worried about aren't real and even the one deadline you're worried about is 4 years in the future and your advisor told you not to worry about it anyways. deep breaths. it'll be alright.

[grapecaseschoices]

May I present y'all with Amryl Shadowhoard; my Gary Sue, my batman. My everything and the kitchen sink. And I adore it.

SO. Amryl [They/It; sometimes she] is a hybrid [dhampir/werewolf, roflmao], half-elf with tiefling ancestry. Why do they have wings you ask? [Because I wanted it to fly/teleport, :-(].

I haven't ironed out the deets. But basically, Amryl is the youngest sibling to my youngest durge [Isyl]. Amryl's family found/was given Isyl. They didn't have children yet and Isyl became their beloved baby. They loved [.... I think] Amryl but they could never get losing Isyl. So they - a very wealthy mercantile/trader family - spent a lot of money trying to find Isyl.

Amryl became a dhampir; not through the traditional sense but either from a deal went wrong made by her parents OR by a trash ex [I haven't decided yet]. My original thought [that I might keep] was that it died, and through regret [if I do the parents angle] or obsession [the ex angle], and they were frankenstein'd back to life. Hence the wings [and maybe the werewolfness].

It's family was very devout to Lathander but the Morninglord [and his followers] do not suffer the undead. So when they came back, he left them out in the cold. But Bahamut welcomed her with open arms. So they're a war cleric of Bahamut and a ranger 😌.

I still have not decided their personality. Other than they're a dark wearer; the blue and white is an exception to honor Bahamut [he doesn't seem the type to care but it is immensely grateful for his kindness and strength and support]. Also, their bg is entertainer.

ty for coming to my TEDtalk.