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synnthamonsugar · 3 months ago

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DESTINYTOBER: Day 28 - Found Family

Read it on AO3

. . .

Under a flawless blue sky, Zavala, Ikora Rey and Cayde-6 stride three abreast into the Midtown crucible arena. Fans crowd into safely-distanced stands, their cheers blurred together into a low roar.

"I still can't believe the two of you talked me into this." Zavala's deadpan is belied by the faint upturn at the corner of his lips.

Basking in the attention, Cayde twirls Ace of Spades as he swaggers forward. "We fought a god. And won! You can withstand a little mano y mano."

"Besides, it's for charity," Ikora reminds, Invective held proudly in her hands. An occasion this special called for the best in her personal armory. "Shaxx is thrilled to have us. Near-record for ticket sales, he says."

"I can't recall ever seeing the seats so packed."

"I can," Ikora boasts. "Game twenty-five of my win streak. Standing room only."

"I missed your Crucible stories," Cayde says sotto-voice, holstering his cannon to pat the Warlock on the shoulder. "You'll have to get me caught up."

Expression softening into something more wistful, she slings her shotgun over her back and returns his gesture. "There isn't much to catch you up on … not with everything happening."

"That just means we'll make new stories together today," says Zavala, patting Ikora on the opposite arm.

Approaching the center of the arena, they link hands — lifting them overhead to a wave of rambunctious applause from the audience and the swell of triumphant drum music from a small marching band as they approach Lord Shaxx, master of today's ceremonies.

Holding the microphone to about where his mouth would be beneath his helmet, Shaxx speaks. The stands quiet to anticipatory murmurs.

"Hailing from Tower North, Last City, our first team requires no introduction. Please give a warm welcome to your Vanguard: Commander Zavala, Ikora Rey, and the newly returning Cayde-6!"

Ear-splittingly loud despite the distance, cheers erupt from the stands — as do banners, flags and hand-written signs bearing words of encouragement.

From the other side of the arena, the opposing team begins to file in.

"Our first challenger should be known by all. Originally from Old Russia but joining us today from Empress Caiatl's War Council, make some noise for Lord-Valus Saladin Forge!"

The crowd responds in kind, nearly drowning out Shaxx's booming voice over the P.A. as he enters.

"Vanguard," Saladin smiles, walking down the line to give each a warm greeting.

He pauses at Zavala, clapping him on the pauldron. "It's been too long since we've spared."

"It has indeed," Zavala replies with a return of his gesture. "I look forward to it."

As he circles back and takes his place opposite, hands clasped at the hilt of the battleax drawn before him in a picture of knightly valor, Shaxx announces the next contender.

"Originally from —" a pause as he checks his notes, " — and hailing now from a utility closet in the Tower Annex; don't tell the Vanguard! Drifter is here!"

Appropriate to his notorious reputation, hisses and jeers join the raucous cheering. Drifter struts with a wide grin and hands held aloft, working the crowd effortlessly.

"Finally get to settle up with you over that twenty-thousand glimmer bar tab you stuck me with when you croaked," Drifter chuckles as he sizes up Cayde, drawing him into a surprisingly familiar handshake. "Hah — just messin' around. I cut my losses on that years ago. It's good to have you back, buddy."

"Word on the street's you've been the resident smartass in my absence," Cayde responds, pulling him into a half-hug. "I'm glad I had you to carry the torch. But I'll be taking it back now."

Drifter saunters next to Saladin, flipping a coin across his knuckles to increasing frenzy from the audience.

"Last but certainly not least — making her crucible debut, and representing the Lucent Brood all the way from the Throne World, welcome the Guardian of the Pale Heart: Luzaku!"

The Lucent wizard approaches with a flourish of her arms, the swarm of incandescent moths that orbit adding to her ethereal appeal. The enthusiasm from the crowd is barely contained, clumps of attendees jumping up and down in the stands, others gesturing with heart-shaped hand-signs. Handshakes aren't a part of hive culture — wouldn't work even if it was, given the disparity in height — but she greets each of her competitors personally.

"Ikora Rey! I've read so much of your work on circles — we all have. It's an honor to meet you, and a thrill to face you in the Crucible."

"The honor is mine," Ikora responds. "I admire your defense of the Traveler and the Light. Your bravery at the final battle won't be forgotten."

She flits over to her team, towering above them.

"Now if you'll excuse us, me and the band are going to seek cover! When I give the signal, the competitors may retreat to their positions, and the match shall begin!"

"Regardless of how I feel about participating in spectator sports, there's no place I'd rather be than at the sides of the finest Vanguards to ever serve — " Zavala says, " — and more importantly, my best friends."

"Cheers to that," Cayde agrees.

Ikora's smile shines as bright as the late summer sun, and infectious as the crowd's enthusiasm as it spreads to her teammates. Crowd silent with anticipation, they ready their weapons and prepare to move out as they await the opening shot from the Crucible Handler.

#DESTINYTOBER24 #destiny 2 #commander zavala #ikora rey #cayde-6 #lord shaxx #saladin forge #the drifter #luzaku

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imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese · 1 month ago

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Arc Logic

"The Hive live by sword logic. Teach them another way." —Eris Morn

Empress Caiatl has requested assistance from Eris Morn and the Vanguard regarding a Lucent Hive ritual discovered in progress on the Leviathan. Featuring @savyir-genesizz-the-wizard's OC, Cogito-4!

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read it there

"Master Cogito," Eris Morn intoned. "I am relieved to see you here. Although, I suppose I should not be surprised. Ikora did say she was sending our best."

Cogito-4 leaned on his cane lightly, using it for stability on the uneven Egregore-infested ground of the Leviathan as he approached Eris from the transmat pad. The Cabal honour guard around them stepped aside to let him pass and then stepped back together again behind them both. At Eris' feet was a plain black box with a hinge, several blinking lights, and a button.

"I am unused to my expertise being needed in relation to Hive magic, but Ikora did say it was important and, if it is important to Ikora, then it is important to me." Cogito said.

Eris' Soulfire-wreathed Ahamkara bone hovered over her right hand and she inclined her head, tracking the sound of incoming footsteps.

Just as they had when Cogito had entered the room, two Cabal stepped aside as Lord Saladin strode in and closed ranks behind him.

"Eris, Deputy," Saladin addressed them both. "The Empress has need of you both. I trust you have each been briefed on the situation?"

"The Empress has discovered a Hive ritual within the Leviathan and the use of both Hive magic and the Light within it indicates the work of Savathun." Eris' fingertips slipped gently over the top of her orb as she spoke. "We have been asked to determine the nature of the incursion and, if possible, invert it. I was also asked to bring... the hostage." Her left foot lightly kicked the wooden box.

The box lurched in response. "Hey! Can anyone hear me?" Immaru's voice came from the box. "Is anyone out there? You neon nerds better not leave me in here. I have connections! Anyone? Hello?"

"He cannot hear us," Eris explained. "His containment is... insulated, but we can communicate with him if his... insight... is required."

"Hopefully it won't be," Saladin growled. "But it is good to know where he is at all times."

Eris crouched down next to the box and pressed one of the buttons. It made a loud click.

Several of the Cabal surrounding them shuffled their feet nervously.

"What does that do?" Saladin asked.

"It is... a mute button," Eris said. "The containment is a custom device built by an associate of mine. The mute button, in particular, is something I am fond of. It... brings me joy."

Saladin nodded and directed a Psion to carry the now-silent box.

"The Empress has been reclaiming the Leviathan. As you can see it is a long process and nowhere near finished. The Egregore is persistent and the residual effects of the former Emperor's influence persists despite his recent demise." Saladin explained to them as they walked through the corridors of the once-great Cabal ship.

"This is quite the escort," Cogito noted as they walked. "I'm not used to being accompanied by so many allies."

"The Leviathan is still quite dangerous," Saladin said. "And when you see what we're dealing with, you'll understand the reason for the extra reinforcements."

...

Eris hissed as the hallway they were in ended and they approached a very large area. Egregore dangled from the vaulted ceiling. In the centre of the vast room, four ritual circles surrounded a fifth. In the middle of each one was a pool of inky liquid. Blue-white crystals hung suspended above each one and surrounding it all was a glittering translucent dome radiating magic.

"This is a powerful ritual," Eris muttered. "Had it not been found before completion I shudder to think of what would have been manifested here."

"We attempted to destroy the markings on the edges of the pools," Saladin said. "...but have been unable to make any headway."

"Yes," Eris said, dispassionately, walking up to the edge of the glittering spell barrier and holding her hand inches away from it. "The Witch Queen is clever. Any attempts to disrupt the topography of this spell will suck the interoper into the Ascendant plane where only the most strong willed are able to survive for any length of time without being rent asunder."

"How do we destroy it?" Salain asked.

"You cannot," Eris answered. "Not yet. This much power must be wielded. Someone with sufficient force of will could enter and then use the ritual for something other than its intended purpose."

"Sounds like a trap." Cogito said, behind her.

"It most assuredly is," Eris agreed.

"A trap for you, specifically." Cogito added.

"Yes," Eris said, her voice suddenly soft. "She wants a sister so very badly. They both do. But I am not their sister. And I do not act alone."

Eris turned to Cogito. "These crystals," she pointed to them, "...are created from stolen Light. They are vessels, profane but also finite. While the Hive protections carved into being and made manifest through the vile runes around them form an effective barrier from outside interference, the crystals themselves are vulnerable from within. They cannot be forcibly assaulted, but they are created to absorb Light. If they could be pushed beyond the limits of their capacity, I believe they would rupture like a festering boil."

Cogito nodded slowly. Arc energy began to course through him. The Legionaries nearby stepped back respectfully as the Warlock began to levitate off the ground as sparks crackled along his body.

"Be wary," Eris cautioned, inclining her head toward Saladin. "Action of this type will undoubtedly attract notice."

Saladin grunted and made a hand movement. The Cabal around them all shifted their stances. One of the Psions appeared to be relaying a signal of some sort and then nodded to Saladin.

"You may proceed," Saladin said quietly.

Cogito lifted his cane, placing both hands in the middle of it and then pointed the end of it at the nearest crystal. He focused his Light, using it to feed, rather than attack. The magical barrier shimmered but allowed him through.

Jagged lightning stretched out, joining the tip of Cogito's cane with the blue-white crystalline structure. It began to glow brightly to a near-blinding intensity.

With an almost melodic chime the crystal shattered.

Several things happened at once.

From the other side of the room the loud howl of a Lucent Hive Ogre echoed toward them.

Saladin began shouting orders.

Four Cabal Psions clustered around Eris and Cogito, hovering in the air and forming a protective barrier around them and Saladin.

The ground rumbled and shook.

The five pools within the ritual circles began to boil.

The smell of rotting flesh and sulfur began to fill the room as the hissing and scratching of many limbs scrabbling over the marble stone floors of the Leviathan reached their ears.

All Phalanxes in the honour guard pulled out their shields, becoming living bulwarks against the horde of oncoming Thralls.

One of the Psions began relaying information to Saladin.

A high pitched squeaking sounded in their ears. Several Tomb ships began to materialize in the air above them.

"They seek to prevent further interference!" Eris called out to Cogito. "Do not allow them to stop you!"

Cogito nodded as Eris closed her eyes and began to chant, tilting her head up as she clutched her Ahamkara bone tightly in her hands.

"We will clear the way!" Saladin growled to the Warlock as he reached down and lifted up a huge flaming axe.

Seemingly out of nowhere, hundreds of Hive began to swarm down upon them.

With a shout in Ulurant from the Iron Lord, who was also their Valus, the Cabal unit surrounding them opened fire.

Cogito tossed an Arcbolt grenade, calling down a bolt of lightning to fry the cluster of Hive beside the next crystal he planned on rupturing. The crackling energy made a sizzling sound as the chitinous exoskeletons of the Acolytes and Thralls it hit danced briefly and then collapsed.

Saladin pointed his axe in the direction Cogito had tossed the grenade and the Phalanxes all lifted their shields and began to move as one, stepping slowly but methodically toward the goal that had been set for them.

The discipline of Saladin's Cabal was impressive and Cogito sensed the pride the soldiers around them felt in themselves and each other at being able to demonstrate it for himself and Eris. He floated in the centre of the focused regiment as they marched through the hordes of scrabbling Hive now accosting them.

Eris waved her arms with a guttural shout and raised an empty hand, palm open, toward one of the Tomb ships above them. She closed her fist.

The ship began to crumple from the middle as though something were sucking it through the end of a large invisible straw.

Eris cackled menacingly as the Tomb ship imploded into itself.

The former Hive god of Vengeance had contested the will of the Hive piloting it and disproven the ship's right to exist.

A Void-infused serrated chitin shield whirled through the air. Deflected by one of the Imperial Psions, it narrowly missed Eris and bounced away.

"Guardian," Eris turned to Cogito, "Show them what it means to wield the Light." She pointed at the Lucent Knight charging toward them before turning away and crumpling another Tomb Ship as it screeched into, and then out of, existence above them.

Cogito stowed his cane and pulled out Riskrunner, sending a spark from his fingertips into the weapon. The submachine gun lit up and began to crackle with lightning. The Warlock stopped levitating long enough to touch both feet to the ground and jump up, soaring above the battle toward the Hive Lightbearer, firing in the air as he flew.

Several Imperial Cabal watched in awe as they continued to fight while the Warlock in front of them channeled the fury of the storm.

Arc-infused submachine gun bullets flew rapidly at the chitinous Hive Titan in the middle of the gun battle raging all around them. The Titan dodged and rolled to the side, but Cogito had anticipated this maneuver and kept his opponent within Riskrunner's sights.

The Lucent Lightbearer tossed its second Void-infused shield.

Cogito willed his levitation to cease and he dropped rapidly through the air. The whirling chitinous serrations on the shield whistled in the air as it passed by harmlessly.

The Warlock landed lightly in front of the Lightbearer, sidestepping a punch and letting go of his machine gun. The gun dangled by its strap as Cogito placed both hands, palms flat, against the Lucent Titan.

When performing this particular attack, Cogito could not help but be reminded of an old Earth medical procedure for intervening during a heart attack. It worked on a similar principle. The patient would be electrocuted by a charge built up between two flat panels in order to jolt their heart into a regular rhythm.

Hive had no hearts and Lucent Hive no longer needed to feed the worms within themselves with tithes from the Sword Logic. But they still had worms positioned roughly where a human heart might be located. Cogito placed his palms on either side of the Hive Lightbearer's chest and released the energy within himself. He felt the worm inside jerk and twist as it seized, shuddered and burst. The Lucent Titan, too, jerked, twisted, seized, shuddered, and then collapsed at Cogito's feet, oozing ichor and smoke from between its chitinous plating.

A cheer arose from the Phalanxes and Legionaries surrounding Saladin and Eris as the Hive Lightbearer went down.

The Titan's ghost materialized above it, spinning its spiky shell.

"Guardian!" Eris called out.

Cogito looked over his shoulder.

Eris held out the box containing Immaru. "We have a containment device. Quickly now!"

She opened it, reached in, and pulled out Immaru. He struggled in her fist and sputtered. "Put me down you wanna be half-Hive!" Then he gasped at the firefight going on around him. "What the hell?"

Cogito grabbed the Hive ghost, jumped, and landed next to Eris, thrusting the Lucent Knight's ghost into the box. Eris added Immaru.

"Hey! You can't just-"

She snapped the box lid shut and clicked the mute button with a vicious smile.

"Quickly now!" Eris urged Cogito. "The other crystals! Go! Fill them with your light!"

An Ogre's eye beam began to fire at them. It was cut down by a Cabal Incndior who fired a Magma Launcher straight into its brain.

A Gladiator with two Cabal Severi chopped through two Hive Knights nearby.

An Acolyte shooting at them was bounced into the air by one of the Psions next to Saladin. It landed with a wet splat, its chitin crunching under it in what looked like a very uncomfortable configuration.

Cogito took another running leap and sailed through the air above a clash between about a dozen Thralls and about half as many spike-covered War Beasts snarling and biting at their legs. He landed next to another blue-white crystal and stretched out his hands.

The chime from the shattering crystal resonated through the battlefield, emboldening the Cabal forces and driving the Hive into even more frenetic attack patterns.

"Do you feel it, as I do, Cogito?" Eris called out. "The ritual is shifting! Do not falter! You must persist! Drive them back!"

Another Tomb ship in the air above them crumpled out of existence.

Cogito looked at the mess of Thralls and Acolytes between himself and the next crystal and jumped once more. The shockwave from his Stormtrance erupted down and outward from him as chain lightning spurted from his fingers, vaporizing every Hive he came across as he floated toward his goal.

The third and fourth crystals burst as musically as the first two through the fighting going on around Cogito. Soon there was only the final, central ritual crystal remaining.

As the Warlock approached it, the boiling pools of black ichor which had been lying under the first four crystals all overflowed. Four Hive wizards rose, dripping, from their depths.

A frozen-over orb whipped through the air. It hit the first wizard, bounced off of it diagonally to another, pinged off of that one to the third and then bounced off of the fourth. Each wizard froze solid in mid-air. The orb returned to Eris' hand.

"Now!" she shouted.

Cogito opened fire. Riskrunner spat electrified bullets, lightning arcing from them to jolt and shatter the frozen wizards as though they had been made of glass.

Shards of the Hive wizards fell, splashing when they fell into the liquid in the pools and tinkling softly when they fell on the ground between them.

Before they had finished hitting the ground, Cogito reached out and with one last burst of Arc energy, he overloaded the central crystal. The tone it made as it burst reverberated through everything in a wave of sound.

Suddenly everything, the battle, the fighting, the weapons firing, the screaming, all fell silent. The Hive withdrew, disappearing or dying. Everything became still.

A low chortling laugh came from the central pool.

Eris stepped next to where Cogito was hovering and growled low in the back of her throat, pulling out her Night Terror sword.

"Eris, you overachiever," Savathun's voice emanated from within the central pool. "You never do cease to impress." The liquid shuddered with each syllable, its waves making patterns to match the vocalizations coming from it.

"And you?" The black liquid swirled up into the shape of a clawed hand and pointed at Cogito. "Oh I like you. I'm going to remember you. You're going to be so much fun later. I can't wait."

Eris walked up to the liquid-formed hand and sliced it off at the wrist with her sword. It fell back into the pool with a wet splash.

"Your incursion is done here," Eris pronounced.

"Oh fine, fine. You can keep that rotten husk of a ship. I didn't really want it anyway," Savathun's voice crooned from within the pool. "And watching you all scurry around to deal with this lovely reminder of my affection really was entertaining. I missed you, dear sister. Do give Xivu my love when she shows up later, I know how much fun you'll have when you do."

The black ichor formed into another clawed hand that waved and then disappeared before Eris could chop it off.

The pools were still. Nothing further attacked. The Lucent Hive, previously so numerous, were all gone.

Saladin stood next to Eris and Cogito and surveyed the area.

"I will inform the Empress and dispatch a unit to clean up anything else still here. These pools will be drained and their contents incinerated."

"Yes," Eris said firmly. "This is good." She looked at the Warlock. "Thank you again, Master Cogito. Your assistance here, as always, has been invaluable. Please inform Ikora that I shall be submitting my report as soon as I have had time to interrogate our new prisoner."

She took the box from the Psion carrying it, then muttered briefly and created a Hive portal in front of herself.

Eris paused for a moment, holding the box in her hands as she stood in front of the portal. Her three eyes from behind her bandage regarded first Saladin and then Cogito.

She clicked the mute button. Then she shook the box twice, vigorously.

"Ow! Ow! What the hell is your problem you-" She clicked the mute button again.

Eris' mouth quirked into a small smile before she turned away from them both and walked through the portal, box in hand. The malachite-coloured oval disappeared behind her.

Saladin sighed and turned to face Cogito. "My thanks as well, Deputy. The Empress will hear of your work today."

...

Two days later, Cogito-4 received a message regarding packages waiting at the Tower post box.

"Package for Cogito-4, happy Dawning!" Kadi 55-30 handed him a medium-sized box with Cabal Imperial insignia emblazoned on all six sides, as well as a smaller one wrapped in brown cloth with red velvet string and a small metal sigil bearing Eris' symbol.

"Checking... checking... one moment!" Kadi said as Cogito started to move away.

He paused, his arms full, waiting.

Kadi turned away from the counter and then returned. "Package for Cogito-4, happy Dawning!" A third box, completely black without any identifying markings, was added to the stack in Cogito's arms. For some reason it reminded Cogito a bit of the box Eris had used to contain Immaru and the other Hive ghost. He looked down at it in confusion but carried all three away with him.

The Cabal box contained a lush and expensive set of Warlock robes in the Empress' Imperial colours with a formal invitation in gold foil on fine parchment to attend dinner with Caiatl and her retinue. An additional typewritten note on plain paper from Saladin was included detailing some specifics regarding what to expect from an Imperial dinner and some tips on how to avoid making any Cabal-specific social blunders.

The box from Eris contained several burnt, lumpy, and completely unappetizing cookies. A note was within it, in spidery, difficult to read penmanship:

Master Cogito, Thank you again. Happy Dawning. E

Within the unmarked black box a small card lay on top of black tissue paper. It had neat printing in block letters. It was unaddressed and unsigned but it read:

Did you know Cabal War Beasts are actually big fans of burnt Ascendant Oatmeal Raisin cookies? The more hard and burnt the better. They'll eat them right out of your hand and be your friend forever. And those spiky puppies are often hanging out under the table at the Empress' shindigs, just in case you didn't know. Anywho, thanks for helping Eris. Happy Dawning.

Under the tissue paper was a very nice selection of perfectly baked Dawning cookies. They looked delicious.

#destiny 2 #destiny dawning #gift fic #eris morn #ao3 #fanfiction #writing #arc logic #imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese #cs member writing

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lady-lucida · 8 months ago

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AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Best part of Final Shape I will protect this wizard with my life I swear

My hunter is *obsessed*! Luzaku is so prettyy 🥹🥹

We first met Luzaku here in WQ in the Lucent Tales lore book!

Also fun random fact! Luzaku actually looks different from normal lucent hive she is wearing the lucid shader! Guess I should match that instead of being a stereotypical all black shader hunter 😅

Assuming we see her again I'll take more pictures and make more memes

#destiny 2 #destiny the game #destiny spoilers #crying #spoilers

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theguardiananatak · 4 months ago

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Revanant Livestream Recap

——Revenant——

Seasonal weapons NOT craftable, but are focus farmable similar to BRAVE weapons

Onslaught Salvation: revamp with different enemy types, 3 new maps (widows court is one; mothyards getting update for combat flow), new upgrades (player turret from D1 combined arms, air strike)

Episode exotic weapon: Stasis primary ammo GL

New Scorn enemy, Revenant Baron, respawn mechanic similar to lucent hive guardian

Masterworked double perk versions of seasonal weapons drop from higher rounds (30/40/50) of onslaught

Seasonal weapons

2x fire GL - “Envious Arsenals” perk - damaging with other weapons reloads the weapon, for damage rotations

Handcannon - “Rime Stealer” perk - shattering gives you frost armor

Arc Smg - new perk with jolt interaction

Artifact - stasis focus

GL perks, overload, weaken

Col 1 champs, 2/3/4 equivalent, 5 are pinnacle mods

Returning revamped strike - Inverted Spire

More enemies, mechanics, death lasers, etc

Act II - Hinted at return of a fan fav activity (probably not SRL for Christmas but a Guardian can dream)

New earnable skimmer, Nine themed Xûrfboard, 97 strange coins

Vespers Host - new dungeon

Hooded jacket & bracelet

Top 3 get embroidered jacket with gtag

Icebreaker - dungeon exotic - assists and final blows from other weapons generate Icebreaker ammo, possible interaction with breaking stasis crystals?

Festival of the Lost:

Hunter evil wizard

Warlock evil wizard

Titan good wizard

——Frontiers——

Medium sized expansions, 2 “tentpole” moments to move story forward

Comparable to Rise of Iron size (D1)

Compelling stories with unique experience & post-campaign

APOLLO

metroidvania inspired destination

Nonlinear campaign - choose region and path to explore

25-30 story threads

Narrative: plot pacing is faster, more focused stories

Shaking up storytelling loop with Revenant, then very different in Apollo

Keep the player out in the world & exploring

Frontier Concept Art

location & people we haven’t met yet

Cavernous world to explore, find powerful abilities to uncover secrets at own pace

Creative theme:

1960s music thematic inspiration, early prog, king crimson, slaughterhouse five

“Scavengers reign” tv show inspiration for scifi worldbuilding aspect

“Imagine going to mansion, going to parlor, told there’s a secret door, check the book/statue, suddenly a dead end turns into a new entryway. That’s what we want to build”

New gear chase:

making the players WANT to swap to new tiered armor/weapons

Next Generation Armor: value and easy to understand, play into build crafting identities, fewer stats per armor piece, fewer dump stats (like a low resil roll)

beyond 100stat roll armor, 100-200 str range has chance to grant activate second double melee charges, set bonuses (2-4 pieces for bonuses, can mix and match)

Ex: Tex mechanic set buffs hipfire (cammycakes lol go nuts)

Next Generation Weapons

How to create aspirational weapon chase

Reprised weapons in addition to new weapons

Reprised: getting a new updated version of your fav weapons (chroma rush mentioned), like BRAVE arsenal rollout

Customizable difficulty/modifiers

Create a NEED to chase and craft perfect gear sets to take on max difficulty activities

#destiny 2 #destiny 2: revenant #bungie livestream recap #ana talks #the final shape #destiny #destiny 2: frontiers

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flowers-of-io · 1 year ago

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My piece of an AMAZING collab @synnthamonsugar, @endivinity and I put together for @d2artevents Crimson Days event. This was such a fun thing to work on with you guys, and I’m extremely proud of us!!

Read on Ao3 // Full piece

Light filters through the massive rosette window on the far wall of the ballroom as thin, shimmering beams. It dances on moth wings and Wizards’ crystal pendants and rows of glasses carried on trays by Thrall waiters, their claws trimmed and chitin polished to shining. The walls and floor are polished too, almost mirror-like; the chamber reflects in them in an uncanny way, diffused and a little warped, the figures moving across them deformed and blurry at the edges but not entirely passing as shadows either.

And there are dozens of them, Knights and Wizards and even a few Acolytes in wormsilk cloaks and woven hoods. The Witch Queen hasn’t been known to hold back when it comes to theatrics, so the party is lavish, all flowers and garlands and hovering lanterns with shimmering moths fluttering inside. There is music as well—sounding surprisingly little like the tortured screams of the dying, played on strange instruments Eris has only read about in the World’s Grave but never seen before.

And there is dancing.

Through all her years of studying the Hive, Eris wouldn’t have thought they danced. Maybe it would have occurred to her earlier if she'd ever discussed it with Toland; he's always seen them as both more and less than she has, not only mindless beasts and not only gods. He would've said, of course they dance, they're a complex, highly advanced society, the kind that had built palaces and dreadnaughts before the Earth was even created. They have music and art and insanely complicated biotechnological mechanisms, philosophy and cuisine—why wouldn't they dance?

Toland is, at the moment, spinning away from her in a flowing gesture, his fan rising like a shield when she chases him with her sword. He has always been good at this, Eris thinks fleetingly—ever since those scarce and liminal nights a lifetime ago, when he would dance with Eriana in the yellow lamplight of her living room to whatever it was the radio played at 3 am. There is a sense of rhythm all Sunsingers have, perhaps, a certain attunement to the melody of the universe, and for all that Toland forfeited for Ascendance, he’s never lost that instinct.

He looks ridiculous, frankly, in his half-Warlock, half-Hive attire, the charms that tinkle louder than the music and sleeves catching on the buckles of her coat. He also looks gorgeous. The fabric flows and shimmers as he moves, and in a certain light, in the split-second glances between turns, Eris can almost see his true form underneath, the shivering spark of Ascendance wrestling free from her grasp as he sharply pulls away.

When the dance ends, they are both panting and bright-eyed, the rush of blood and adrenaline humming in Eris’ ears. It is not unlike after a fight, she figures; aptly put, for a Hive party.

She catches Toland glancing back at the cluster of Wizards over by the buffet, their claws wrapped around wine glasses and horns adorned with pendants glinting in the light. They have been staring at them since he dragged Eris onto the dance floor, and though she can’t quite interpret their expressions from so far away, the spark in their eyes is unmistakeable. She gives Toland a Look.

“Do try to return with a correct number of limbs,” she says mock-sternly. Toland scoffs, but his hands snake across her back and she is pulled into an embrace, long fingers knitting through her hair. She revels in the kiss, spiced up by the awareness that a good half of the room is looking at them.

As he scurries away, robes fluttering behind him, Eris gestures at a Thrall precariously balancing a tray of snacks in one hand. She has grown used to the Hive's questionable taste in sweet, mushy things, though the variance in what the Lucent Court's cooks have presented for tonight is truly astonishing. Chewing on a clam, she leans against a pillar and watches the dancers.

“I see you are enjoying the party.” She decidedly does not jump in startlement at the sudden presence behind her, head turning to face the hostess of the show in a much calm and stately manner. “My Court is certainly enjoying watching you, anyhow.”

“I’ve noticed.” She doesn’t take the wine glass Savathûn offers her.

“That was a good display of dancing right there,” the Witch nods appraisingly, a gesture so very un-Hive she must have picked it up during her time in the Last City, “though it lacked a kind of flourish. It grieves me to no end that you’ll never experience the delights of the Eversion Day balls on the Dreadnaught. Those waltzes were what everyone all across the broods would aspire to.”

Eris folds her arms across the chest. “I haven’t seen you on the dance floor tonight yet.”

Savathûn puts one hand over her heart and gasps theatrically, “I thought you’d never ask!”

In a swirl of fabric and light, suddenly there is a weight at the small of Eris’ back, and clawed fingers wrapped around her own lead her towards the middle of the chamber. The sea of dancers parts before them, heads turning and glowing eyes blinking curiously.

There is no use resisting, but she tries anyway. “This is not—”

“Oh, don’t break my heart, honey.” Savathûn’s voice is a silky murmur. Eris cannot quite tell if it's just illusion or if the Witch is using some kind of magic to fool with her mind a little, but the moment she is pulled into a closed position the atmosphere shifts near-imperceptibly, like a planet's orbit knocked askew by an inch. There is the sweet, heady scent of the throne world flowers, lingering around Savathûn like perfume. It makes Eris lightheaded. She finds her gaze fixed on the Witch’s brilliant eyes as if the star-dappled collar were a gravity well, drawing her in inescapably.

The waltz is slow and languid, so unlike the mad duel-dancing of the Hive. The edges between her and Savathûn seem to blur, the whole world shrinking just to the two of them, and some part of Eris’ mind thinks that this is mad too, the way she is letting herself be swept across the room like a ship in the arms of a gentle wave. Their faces inches apart, Eris curses herself for how furiously her heart is beating.

Savathûn reaches out and caresses her jaw with a single claw, smiling with her eyes. The music dies, but Eris isn’t aware of that, she isn’t even quite aware of where she is—and then someone bumps into her and she jumps, startled, head swivelling to the side instinctively. When she turns back, the Witch is gone.

Eris takes a sharp breath. She is standing in the middle of the dance floor, the crowds of Hive swirling around her, and there is a strange sensation on the side of her neck, like a feather-brush or a droplet of water trailing down.

When she touches it to check, her finger comes stained with her own blood, red like the train of flowers Savathûn leaves in her wake.

#my fics #d2valentines2024 #aunt savathûn #eris morning #toland the sarky #destiny 2 #hive #lucent brood

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steel-peach · 2 years ago

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From the Warlock and Wizard adventures: - wizard Amanith overseeing weekly maintenance of Savathun's altar puzzles - discussing hive rune callouts

#lucent hive #warlock/wizard #destiny 2 #steelpeach

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dyvimwhitehart · 1 year ago

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all the skeletons you hide

A dark power doesn’t automatically mean a dark hand. He knew this long before meeting the Spellbinder, but seeing her wield the same magic as the Shadow Queen in such a noble way only cemented his beliefs further. or, The Wizard and Dyvim Whitehart find themselves at a dark kitchen table, unable to sleep the night before traveling to the Kondha Desert. READ ON A03 FOR ADDITIONAL COMMENTS.

Dyvim wakes up with his hand instinctively placed on the hilt of his sword.

Immediately, he looks for a Goliath. An Apiary guard. A mantis wielding her scythe. Any kind of bug to accompany the chittering in his ear, but there’s nothing. The room is empty, save for him and the bed in which he lays. A moment passes before he begins fiercely rubbing at his eyes to come back to the present.

That damned chittering is still there.

Dyvim pulls himself from bed, moving slowly across the floor to what he assumes is a window. There is a sliver of dark orange light peeking from behind a curtain. Carefully, he lifts it— anticipating the worst. What he’s met with is a limited view of two mantises battling a block or two away under the dim sky.

It hits him then, all at once: he and the Spellbinder are in the city of Sardonyx.

Under the request of both Zaltanna and Ezekiel the Lucent, Zarozinia the Deathsong had arranged for them to stay in an unoccupied home (its owners having all moved to the Hive) for the night to conserve energy before breaching the Kondha Desert at sunrise.

The chittering is a result of the city’s now-uncovered Fifth Column members clashing with those loyal to the Umbra Legion. Such battles would not have been possible without the Spellbinder’s good work. Dyvim drops the curtain, briefly wondering if she’s succeeded so far in sleeping through the night. He can’t think of anyone who deserves a quick rest more.

But, if he had to pick a runner up for that position, he’d pick himself.

“By Mourningsword,” he murmurs. “Pull yourself together,”

Before waking, he’d been trapped in that tomb again, only this time he was wide awake. As his fists pounded against the amber that encased him, the bees taunted him from above, their eyes beadier and crueler than he remembered. They were joined then by the Broodmother, who uttered no words and opted instead to scream at a pitch so loud he thought he might go deaf. Her warped voice grew more and more hysteric the harder he worked to free himself.

And then he was running down the Moon Cliffs at full speed. His armor, however, was so heavy he began to sag to the ground. One limb at a time, Dyvim fell to the dirt, his head the last thing to remain unbowed before dropping into the sand. He continued to try and scramble despite this, all-too aware of the sound of a Goliath gnashing its pincers in the distance, ready to tear him apart in the name of the Shadow Queen. In the distance, the Eclipse Tower began to crumble into the lake.

But soon he came to in a cell. All around him, the Broken Tower shook with what he could only justify as some kind of earthquake. Roze the Mousehunter, by name, paid no attention to him this time. This blossomed not hope, but deep confusion within him. As he stepped to the edge of his prison, fingers wrapping around the bars, he saw her far across the room moving at an absolutely erratic pace. Once his ears caught up with the rest of his body, he heard it: the unmistakable sound of a Burrower wailing for help, accompanied by the repeated strike of a scythe.

Finally, when he thought he could go back no further in his journey, he was a statue. He stood still in the Silent Market, accompanied only by the others who had been turned to stone. Who had failed to escape when the Shadow Queen’s dark magic swept over their land. His ancestors were safe, but they would bear no heroic descendant. And the more he attempted to move, to scream— the quieter things became.

Awake now, he takes special care to listen to his breathing.

Though he is proud to be the sworn sword of the king sent across the sea, Dyvim can’t help but wonder if simply being in Sardonyx had triggered such horrific scenes. Then again, this isn’t an uncommon occurrence. It's just one he’d rather have an explanation for. That makes it easier to press on.

He remembers then, a hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat, that he’d purposefully fallen asleep with his armor on. Call it a force of habit from the nights he and the Spellbinder would spend camping in caves and at the bases of trees. Though he is fortified, he lacks comfort, and one glance in the direction of his bed confirms to him that he won’t be falling back under anytime soon.

His nose twitches. His stomach growls. He wonders if those traitorous mantises left any food behind.

With his sword still at the ready, Dyvim gingerly opens the door to the common area, anticipating an equally quiet scene. What he finds is a candle on the kitchen table, still burning. Curious, he approaches it. A sheet of paper is illuminated by the light. Before he can make out the symbols scrawled upon it, he hears a soft, yet concerned voice.

“Dyvim?”

He looks up to see the Spellbinder’s silhouette approaching. The closer she gets, the easier it is to make out her face. Her dark brows are knit in what could be interpreted as frustration, maybe even anger— but Dyvim knows her well enough to see the worry in her eyes. To avoid intruding, he takes a step back from her work.

“Forgive me. I thought you may be asleep,”

“And I thought the same of you,” she says simply.

“Then it appears we both thought wrong. I think that makes us even, don’t you?”

He thinks he sees the flicker of a smile ghost across her face as she takes her seat.

“May I sit?”

“Of course,”

A sense of relief floods him as he pulls another chair out. Not that she has the authority to send him back to bed, but he’d be disappointed if she didn’t want his company. And that disappointment alone would’ve at least been enough to send him to the other end of the room.

They sit in silence for a moment. He watches intently as she waves a hand, causing a pen to rise into the air. She continues her notetaking in this hands-off way, a small section of brunette hair cascading from the braid she hasn’t bothered to fix in hours. It frames the one side of her face sweetly, accentuated by the candlelight.

Its been a long road to this point. Dyvim admitted to himself ages ago that he felt some kind of yearning when he saw her. Those feelings have little place in their current set of affairs, however. It would be deeply unfair of him to unload that on her when her plate is so unimaginably full already.

Still, in moments like this, his courtly nature almost falters. They’re hidden away from the world they have to save. If not for the sparring on their doorstep, maybe it could all melt away in the depth of her eyes.

“What are you sketching?” he asks, a selfish attempt to hear her voice, to delve into her thoughts.

Her gaze reaches him for a moment before returning to her work. “It's not so much sketching as it is… studying.”

“Ah, well then, may I ask what you’re studying?”

She hesitates, the pen hovering in midair for a moment.

“Shadow magic,”

Amber doesn’t so much as slide the paper toward him as she does move her arm in a way that he can see it if he wants to. With the added context, he recognizes the Shadow symbol immediately, accompanied by what he thinks is the symbol for Necromancy. He’s seen her draw and cast it many times before.

She seems like she’s waiting for him to say something, like she’s holding her breath. Dyvim keeps from pouring over the paper and gives a nod.

“Its been some time now since you captured the Eclipse Tower. How are you feeling?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m not a spellbinder myself. Maybe I’m just making an assumption here, but I’d imagine wielding such powerful magic has somewhat of a physical and mental impact. Especially…”

“Dark magic?”

He blinks, not wanting to imply anything. There simply isn't any other way to put it. But a dark power doesn’t automatically mean a dark hand. He knew this long before meeting the Spellbinder, but seeing her wield the same magic as the Shadow Queen in such a noble way only cemented his beliefs further. One of his ears twitches, and he shakes his head.

“I didn’t mean—”

“It is dark magic, you’re correct. That’s why it’s important for me to seek to understand it further.”

There’s an unspoken end to her words that hang heavy in the air. Something akin to… so I don’t end up corrupt and vile like Morganthe . It occurs to him then that he may have a deeper faith in her than she has in herself. Dyvim sits up a little taller, each second they spend together making his role in all this clearer. He’s always been there to stand beside her, even when he didn’t think she needed him. Now it’s becoming apparent that she does. Not because she’s weak, but because she’s a tad too strong.

His eyes are still heavy, but he fears another chapter of the nightmare: venturing to the end of this world just to lose her to the destruction of them all.

“You are still a student, yes? Back in your home world?”

“I am,” she begins writing again. “But not a classic one. My studies are more… field work based. I’m rarely ever in a classroom. Hence, well, my being here now.”

“Are your teachers reasonably lenient with you? Considering all the world-saving,” he attempts to joke.

“Well, my Necromancy professor usually can’t keep track of the days of the week, let alone my work. And there’s one who is on the Council of Light that guides me, so I suppose she reports back to the rest,” Before he can respond, she speaks again, causing his ears to jump. “They don’t offer Shadowmancy at Ravenwood,”

“Because it’s a dark magic?”

She wiggles her fingers in his direction, causing the pen to spike up and down. “It’s entirely forbidden,”

“So what shall they do when you are set to return to them?”

“You say that so optimistically,”

“I am optimistic,”

Amber shrugs. “I guess I would have a bone to pick with them if they refused to let me graduate after all I’ve done. But I don’t seek their approval, necessarily. I just seek… whatever I have to do to stop the Song of Creation from being sung. And if that means becoming a Shadowmancer…”

She has little choice now, it appears. Actually, it sounds like she’s always had little choice. This Council of Light she speaks of does most of her decision making. In a way, she is their sworn sword. Perhaps it’s an honor for her like it is for him under King Pyat. But when he speaks of the king, he never sounds so exhausted.

“So how does it feel? You never answered me,” He pushes the envelope only because she’s been more open tonight so far than ever. Dyvim blames it on the combination of fatigue, duty, and candlelight.

“You’re asking me a lot of questions tonight,”

The knight in him wants to step back, to bid her goodnight alongside an apology. But the heart in him…

“Would you rather I not?”

“Why are you interested? If you aren’t a spellbinder yourself,” the word rolls off her tongue almost teasingly. Perhaps he’s taking this more seriously than she is.

“Because you are my… companion. And I, yours. And if this weighs heavily upon you, I wish to help you carry the burden. It’s no secret to me how those who occupy this land view the Shadow. It’s unfair of them to view you similarly when you are only here to help,”

It’s not until he finishes rambling that he sees the small smirk across her face. She brushes that loose section of hair back behind her ear before returning to her work. He doesn’t dare to wonder if the warmth across her cheeks is simply heat from the fire, or…

“It makes me dizzy when I use it. Or when I’m struck by it. Like I’ve got a cloudy head, or I’m about to pass out…” she begins tracing the Shadow symbol again upon her paper. “The better I get at it, the less it impacts me. But it does feel heavier than my Death magic. My trip through the Eclipse Tower wasn’t exactly relaxing. Sofia Darkside is an exceptional, but brutal teacher,”

His skin itches, still touched somewhat by the tomb the bees had placed him in— the coffin he’d been cheering her on from, whether she knew it then or not.

“You have an exceptional gift,” Dyvim continues to speak before she can accuse him of buttering her up extra. “All heroes are powerful, but not all of them are smart. That’s what sets you apart. Your desire to understand and respect your magic,”

“I’ve been trusted with it. It’s only my responsibility to do so,”

A task many have failed, he thinks. His desire to bring up the Shadow Queen again, however, is nonexistent.

Apparently tired of having the heat on her, Amber sets her pen down completely and turns to face him. “What about you?”

“What about me are you asking?”

“You know what’s keeping me awake. It’s only fair that you tell me why you’re up. If we’re to stay even, that is.”

Dyvim shakes his head, scooting his chair back slightly. “Ah, well, before you captivated me, I was looking for a midnight snack,”

Her eyes widen, giving him the impression that he may have stood up a bit too hastily. He glances from side to side before realizing his sword is still in his hand. As if she can’t see it, he sets it down on the table and turns to head for the other end of the kitchen.

“I suppose those mantises wouldn’t have good enough taste to keep some aged cheese around, eh?”

The Burrower knight opens a cabinet, nose twitching wildly, searching for a scent. The Spellbinder continues watching him from her seat with no intention of moving.

“Dyvim,”

“I suppose we could try our luck with the market in the morning, stock up on food for the desert. It would be horrible to end up with only the meat-eaters’ menu available.”

“Dyvim, I get them too,”

He stalls then before an open drawer. Her eyes bore into his back, rendering his armor useless. Slowly, he turns to face her, ears drooping and eyes soft. She’s similarly vulnerable, a state normally so difficult to unearth.

“You do?”

Amber laughs, though there’s no real amusement in it. “I do. It would be concerning if I didn’t when you consider… what I’ve seen. What I’ve done,”

Dyvim wonders how many people would guess that about her. A Death wizard’s heart being set to race in the dark doesn’t sound right. And she’s so composed, so straight-faced and unafraid. He’s not unwise enough to fall into such a trap, but can see many interpreting her as above such a thing. But she suffers those nightmares face-to-face so they won’t have to, those endless people she’s saved.

Like her, he suffers for generations of people he will never meet. The long dead, the never born, the gone too soon— any and all of the Burrower ghost statues that give the Silent Market its name. The misery of his people compounds on his brain and, on occasions like this, keep him up at night.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear,” his tail falls between his legs.

“And I didn’t mean to dance around it. But I sleep with my wand on me. In times like this, it’s hard to tell what’s real and what isn’t,”

“Until you wake up,” he glances at her face, at each feature in the dim light. “And even then, it takes a moment.”

The Spellbinder nods. Her eyes are weighed down by hours of rest she hasn’t gotten. Whether she even tried to sleep or not is a mystery to him, but he approaches the table again, hand nearing the base of the candle.

“Can I help you, Spellbinder? In any way? Perhaps if I keep watch, like before,”

“You mean sit out here?”

“Wherever you need me. At the table, the foot of your bed…”

She stands, looking around the room before wordlessly crossing it. Dyvim watches her take a seat on a couch beside another window bleeding dark orange light from the Sardonyx sky.

“Or we could both sit here. And I’ll… try to close my eyes,”

Dyvim picks his sword up and joins her. At first, he takes the far side, but as Amber settles her legs on the latter end, he scoots closer so she’ll have a place to rest her head. She accepts his shoulder despite the armor covering it. He’s stoic to start, but upon growing accustomed to her weight, exhales and sinks further into the plush of the cushions himself.

They don’t speak beyond that. There isn’t much to say, or much they feel they can do without inviting complication. Instead, she does just as she said she would, shutting her eyes and focusing on leveling out her breathing.

Like this, she looks cherubic. She looks the antithesis of what the public would assume an apprentice of dark magic to be. She looks so tired, so young.

And Dyvim supposes he is the same, though he stays up the rest of the night, hand ghosting her forearm though his sword sits beside him.

#wizard101 #wizard101 fic #dyvim whitehart #wizzy fandom #wizard101 fanfiction #just realized i never posted this here.... lol #my fic

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