#Much greener than the desert was

[pushing500]

Our caravan was viciously ambushed by... two lil' munchkin cats. They were no match for Laursen, and our nomads continued on their way without any issues.

Until...

They were ambushed again! This time by a pair of terrifying... blind salamanders. These ones were dealt with by none other than our favourite lucky charm, Shamrock the donkey. A hero for sure!

Finally, we arrived at a lovely stretch of grassland where we decided to settle down for a few weeks to resupply. Don't they all look adorable camping out around their ominous obelisk? I wish I could draw scenery better. I'd love to be able to paint this up in a pretty oil-painting scene. Still, the screenshot itself is cute enough. <3

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[tovaicas]

ysayle’s backstory of having to literally run for her life from the calamity and that she was very nearly just a number that Didn’t Make It to ishgard or was turned around at the gates of judgement to die bc space is limited and she is unimportant is only used as an aside rather than the very real horror that that’s a huge, major reason as to why ishgard is Like This right now, why the brume is overflowing and there’s not enough food or supplies to go around even for nobles, and why aymeric can’t keep control over his own people

[jadiealissia]

Worldbuilding Countries (Part 1)

I've lived in and visited a few countries in my life, which gave me a lot of inspiration for my fantasy novel. I'm not an expert, but I thought I'd share what I learned!

Climate

The climate will most likely come up at some point. Do you mention the cool breeze, or the orange leaves on the trees? All those nice weather descriptions will depend on the climate!

If you have a couple of different countries, it may be a little weird if they all have the same climate (especially if they are far away from each other), so there's a few things you can consider to make them a bit more specific.

Climate is of course a very complicated topic, so I will simplify it a bit.

Temperature

I like to pick a real country/city and look at its temperature graphs on Wikipedia. One important thing to note is that countries aren't simply colder/warmer than one another. I know a lot of people think that a country like Russia is cold all year round, but it is actually quite warm in summer. Some areas have a larger variation between temperature throughout the year than others (normally, the closer to the equator a country is, the less variation there is. They also tend to be warmer).

Look at Singapore:

The temperatures are basically stable all year round (the letters up top are the months). The numbers are the average minimum and maximum daily temperatures. You can see that on average the variation every day is less than 10°C.

Here is Moscow:

The temperature changes quite a lot throughout the year. Note that the maximum temperatures (summer) will occur at the opposite times of the year in the Southern Hemisphere.

You can see this demonstrated in Copiapo (Chile):

This city is in the Southern hemisphere, so their coldest months are June and July :)

One thing you may have noticed is that the bars here are taller, which means that the variation for the daily min and max are higher too. Why is that? I'm simplifying it a bit, but generally, the dryer a place is, the more variation you will get in daily temperature. Which brings us to the next thing to consider:

Humidity/Precipitation

There are a few things to consider:

Rainfall. This can vary month-by-month, and due to some complicated factors, some countries have more rain in their colder months, some have more rain in their warmer months. Some places don't follow a neat pattern or stay consistent throughout the year. Have a look at climate pages on Wikipedia to get some ideas! Even just this page on Chile has a lot of cool examples. Each city is quite different!

Although of course the "wetness" of a country related to rainfall (e.g. you'd expect greener grass somewhere with more rainfall, brownish dry grass or a desert somewhere with less rainfall), it's not that simple. UK is a wet country, right? And if you've heard of Gold Coast (Australia) it seems pretty dry, right? Well, actually the Gold Coast gets twice as much precipitation (rain) as London!

To demonstrate, I took a screenshot (randomly selected street in each city) from Google Streetview.

Why this difference? I suspect it's because the Gold Coast is much hotter. Living in Australia, puddles are normally gone by the next day (often the rain even evaporates as it hits the ground!), but in UK, the puddles would always stay around for a while.

The UK is always mossy, often the clouds hang in the sky for ages. It can look quite grey. When it rains in the Gold Coast in summer, the raindrops evaporate as soon as they hit the pavement, which makes the air feel very humid and smell strongly of rain. You can use these sorts of sensory details in your stories :)

Also, one thing I noticed, is that in hotter weather, rain can be much more heavy than in colder weather. In Australia we often get heavy rain that causes flooding. In UK the rain usually dribbles all day but doesn't get heavy. In a place like the Gold Coast you can get rain that last 10 minutes but soaks you all the way through and floods the street.

The rainfall may also vary year-by-year. Australia goes through periods of floods and droughts that last a couple of years. The mechanism is a bit complicated so I won't go through it now, but it gives you something to google!

Humidity: Deserts have low humidity, which means that you can cool off more easily in the shade and the nights are colder. The breeze feels more refreshing at low humidity as your sweat evaporates.

High humidity (like Singapore) will feel much hotter at the same temperatures and it is normally still quite hot in the shade. High humidity feels really muggy, the air feels thick. The sweat doesn't evaporate as much, so you are left all wet and sticky. The breeze can feel much less refreshing because of this.

When the temperature is below freezing, the humidity gets very low, so your skin may need more moisturiser or your lips may crack.

Those are just some things to consider while describing your weather!

Generally, closer to the sea will be wetter, further inland is dryer. Have a look at some climate maps on Wikipedia, you will learn a lot! Climate is quite complicated since there are so many factors, so there's a lot you can do with it.

UV: This is one thing that people often forget about when they think about weather. In the UK, even on a very hot and sunny day, you are unlikely to get sunburnt (unless you are very pale). In Australia, you can get sunburnt very easily in even Tasmania, which is our coldest state, even when the temperatures are chilly.

You can't actually feel being sunburnt, which I fully understood when I visited Tasmania. I was freezing, but the whole time I was being sunburnt.

Normally, UV index is higher closer to the equator, which is why people who live closer to the equator tend to have darker skin. The melanin acts as protection against the sun. Still, this protection isn't perfect, so in the real world people in Africa used different methods to protect their skin, such as using clay as a "sunscreen".

Australia has the highest rate of skin cancer in the world. This is partially because most people in Australia have pale skin (originally from the UK), but the UV index is high.

This is something to consider in your story, since it can play a bigger role in behaviour than you'd expect if you live in a cold climate. In Australia, they recommend staying indoors between certain hours of the day to avoid sunburn, and if you do go out you should wear clothes that cover your skin, a wide-brimmed hat and sunscreen. Someone with very pale skin can get sunburnt in minutes. Wide-brimmed hats are compulsory at schools in Australia - you are not allowed to play if you forget your hat.

In low-UV areas, there is the opposite issue. People with darker skin can have problems getting vitamin D. Same goes for people who cover their skin with clothing (e.g. for religious reasons). However, this is a bit simpler to fix with some vitamin D supplements.

How do I use this for worldbuilding?

If you have a map of your countries, you may want to keep their location in mind when deciding on the climate :)

I like to draw up some graphs with the temperatures throughout the year for each country and some quick notes on the humidity, rainfall and UV.

You can also add some other elements to your story. Is it a fantasy? Maybe magic affects the weather! Sci-fi? You can play with the distance of the planet from the sun, axial tilt, sun size etc. (I won't go into that since it's a whole another topic and really complicated as well)

You probably don't need to know the exact details of the climate for most stories, but having a general idea will allow you to consistently describe what sorts of clothing your characters wear, the weather etc. Those are the sorts of things that comes up in almost every story (if it's long enough).

If you read this and found this useful, please reblog so I know that it was helpful. If it seems like people enjoyed this post, I will make more (I was going to talk about so much more, but this is already too long).

[peregrinethegryphon]

Scorching Era Dragon Species

(Headcanon, until canon confirms or disputes)

🔴 Mountain Dragons

Based on dragons described in The Flames of Hope, pages 186-187.

The Mountain Dragons were the most common species of dragon on Pyrrhia. They inhabited the entirety of the central mountain range. Their scales tended towards warm colors like red and orange, but it was common to see other colors on them. Dragons at this time were far more likely to hybridize with other species as a result of their overlapping ranges and lack of formal society. They were one of only two species that possessed firebreath. Their diets consisted primarily of large ungulates, but they were opportunistic and would eat anything.

Mountain Dragons could be classified into two populations. The Northern Mountain Dragons were distinguished by their brighter colors and diurnal lifestyle. The Southern Mountain Dragons by contrast were darker, with more black scales as an adaptation for a more nocturnal or crepuscular lifestyle.

The Scorching was led by one large Northern Mountain Dragon (The Flames of Hope, page 186, see above image) who would become the first queen of the first dragon tribe, which would be known as the Skywings. Mountain Dragons made up the majority of the early Skywing tribe, but Forest Dragons were also common within their ranks.

The Southern Mountain Dragons, however, would not stay in the Skywing tribe for long, instead forming their own tribe, the Nightwings, and keeping their nocturnal lifestyles and building their own society around it.

Hundreds of years after The Scorching, the Skywings, under the rule on an ambitious queen, would start a conflict with neighboring tribes over territory. This would be known as the War of Skywing Expansion. The war would see the Nightwings pushed out of their mountain territory and the tribe would find a new territory on the southwest peninsula.

🟡 Stone Dragons

Based on an obvious Sandwing ancestor in The Flames of Hope, page 183.

Stone Dragons lived around rocky areas and caves at the base of cliffs and mountains. They were an offshoot of the Mountain Dragons, distinct only in their much paler coloration, back sail, and venomous tail barb. They usually possessed flecks of black scales. Their venom evolved independently of other species. Diets consisted of anything they could catch.

After The Scorching they were the first to colonize the newly formed desert that once housed a large human civilization. Other species would try to colonize the area, but as temperatures got more extreme, only the Stone Dragons would be able to adapt. Their descendants became known as the Sandwings. This species has remained virtually unchanged since The Scorching.

🔵 Sea Dragons

Sea Dragons are mentioned in The Flames of Hope page 181. Page 185 states they couldn't breathe fire.

Sea Dragons were semiaquatic, coming mostly in shades of blue and green. They lived on the eastern coast, on islands and beneath the ocean. They had specialized gills and kidneys that allowed them to tolerate a wide range of salinity levels. They had bioluminescent spots along their body used for communication. This species did not possess firebreath. Their diet consisted of fish and pinnipeds.

While a majority of Sea Dragons lived in the ocean, there was a small population living in freshwater rivers and lakes on the southeast coast, sometimes referred to as Swamp Dragons by local humans. They were more on the greener side than their marine cousins. They ate fish and whatever animals they could ambush from the water.

During the War of Skywing Expansion, some Skywing defectors would flee their kingdom and find refuge in the southeast with the Swamp Dragons. After the war they would eventually form a new tribe together, calling themselves the Mudwings.

The Seawings would be one of the earliest tribes to form. They’ve remained virtually unchanged since The Scorching.

🟣 Ice Dragons

Ice dragons were the most isolated species of dragon. They were fully adapted to Pyrrhia’s northern tundra and possessed frostbreath in place of firebreath. Their diets consisted primarily of fish and pinnipeds, but would hunt anything if the opportunity presented itself.

After The Scorching the Icewings would be one of the earliest tribes to form. They’ve remained unchanged since The Scorching. This is, of course, a point of pride for the Icewings. It is unknown if Animus Magic had appeared yet.

🟢 Forest Dragons

Based on Freedom, with the caveat that Freedom is a Mountain/Forest hybrid. The dragon described in The Flames of Hope, page 186 is heavily implied to be her mother.

Forest Dragons were a species adapted to an arboreal lifestyle. They were brightly colored and came in all color combinations, and had rounded wings. They possessed venomous fangs in place of firebreath. They made their nests in the trees. Those living in the southern rainforests were primarily frugivores and were much more colorful, while those in more temperate forests were more omnivorous, eating anything they could find, and had greener scales. They would often take naps in the middle of the day to gain energy from the sun. Leafspeak was a rare ability possessed by some individuals.

The Forest Dragons would give rise to three tribes after The Scorching. Those already adapted to the rainforest would form their own tribe, the Rainwings. The Rainwings would independently evolve their color changing ability over time.

Those best adapted to temperate forests formed their own tribe, the Leafwings. The Leafwing tribe happened to have the most Leafspeakers within their population, which they enthusiastically integrated into their agricultural practices.

During the War of Skywing Expansion, the Leafwing tribe would be forced out of their territory and would eventually make their way across the ocean to a new continent, Pantala.

One isolated population of Forest Dragons had already been evolving some odd traits by the time of The Scorching, such as a second set of wings and silk glands. This population evolved on the southwest peninsula, and would form their own tribe, the Beetlewings.

During the War of Skywing Expansion, the Beetlewings would be forced out of their territory by the Nightwings, who would then take over the peninsula as the Beetlewings joined the Leafwings in their exodus from Pyrrhia into Pantala.

Pre-Scorching Range Map

Original Bases Free to Use

[moralesispunk]

Astra - Prologue

(Din Djarin x Witch! Reader fic)

Summary: An injured Din lands on a planet he has only ever heard of in his mother’s bedtime stories, a place where salvation may come when he least expects it

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, injured Din, grief of lost parents

Word Count: 1.1k

Series masterlist | next chapter

Before Astra, there had been Terra.

When he was a child, Din’s mother would soothe him to sleep with stories of a planet on the outer rim called Terra. The planet had one moon, named Astra, and a sky that was so clear at night you could see her rough, alabaster surface, alongside the millions of stars that shone brightly in the sky.

It is known to be a fruitful planet, with tall trees and fields upon fields of green, but it had not always been this way. The story goes that years ago Terra did not have a moon and, instead, at night the sky was a dark blanket of navy with only the dusting of stars that twinkled above. That had been until one day a star fell from the sky and crashed down to the surface, breaking off a piece of Terra that floated up into the night. That piece of rock became Astra and it shone brightly down on Terra every night.

Terra was heartbroken at this loss and each day that passed the desert planet turned into a fruitful one; the rivers that had been dry raged with her tears and the wind that had been still howled in pain as it carried the pollen to greener grass. She cried from dawn till dusk, silencing only when the sun set and Astra could be seen high in the sky.

Terra would bask in her glow and even though they only had the night together, it was long enough for the rivers and wind to calm and for the planet to bore life once more.

Whenever Din’s mother told him this story she held him tighter against her side, like she was scared that he would suddenly break away from her to never be seen again. If he closes his eyes, he can still feel her hold.

Rough fingertips from hours of hard labour. Soothing circles rubbed into the skin of his arms that had still been scar free. The clean smell of her bath salts, used sparingly and after particularly long days at work.

Din doesn’t let himself think of his parents often. He fights against any memories of them that will creep out from the dark corners of his mind; times when he smells a broth like his mother’s or watches a small child play with a carving made by their father. He can’t stand the ache that follows when he does, one that is more subtle than the grief he first felt as a boy, but has stayed with him for years since.

It makes him think too deeply about what he is doing with the life that he is so lucky to have when theirs was ripped away while protecting him. He thinks about what they would see when they looked at him now. Would they even recognise him with a wall of beskar and weapons covering every inch of his body?

It’s not the grief he fights against. It is not the grief he is scared to feel. No, it’s the thought that even if they would recognise him as the man he has become, they may not be proud of him.

Mandalorian. Warrior. Bounty hunter. Killer.

There is no fighting against the thoughts of his mother when he stares up at Astra and is reminded of the stories she told of the moons and stars while putting him to bed at night, her voice gentle and quiet as she brushed the hair from his eyes and told him stories of love and promises and kindness. The thoughts of her remain as he flirts in and out of consciousness for hours, barely finding enough strength to remove the blade from his side before losing the battle against sleep once more.

The only time Din ever truly thinks of his mother in his dreams, her presence in them is enough to keep her face and voice fresh in his mind. She is always smiling when she appears, much like the way he had never seen her without a smile until that final day. Sometimes in his dreams she talks to him with that same smile on her face but most of the time he finds himself walking away from her, the pain that follows when he wakes up in the morning, the one that reminds him that she is gone, being too much to carry.

Now, as his feet carry him towards the home he recognises all too well, he is too weak to fight her. He lets her slip her hand into his and she pulls him to the chair he would always sit at for breakfast and dinner, that same hand coming to brush the hair from his eyes like she did when he was a child.

“You are injured.”

“I always am,” he replies and doesn’t miss the way her smile falters. “I think… I think I may be too hurt this time.”

He looks around the room, one he usually refuses to enter in his dreams. It’s exactly as he remembers if he tries hard enough, the sets of three that are placed around the room; three bowls, three plates, three sets of cutlery; three pairs of shoes lined neatly at the door, three cloaks hanging on the hooks above them; three chairs that surround the table with three marks from where the bowls had been set for years now.

He eventually looks back to his mother, a woman who is still the same age as she was when she passed, the same age that he is now. She is - was, he reminds himself - a beautiful woman with hair and eyes as dark as Din’s and round cheeks that were always flushed with pink after a day of work.

“There is someone who will save you,” his mother goes on, sitting in the chair by his side and scuffing it along the floor until her knee bumps his and she places her hand over his own.

“There is no one on this planet, Ma. It’s all land and barely any people.” He finds his voice softening, much like hers had when she patiently explained something to him as a child, and it has her eyes lighting with humor.

“Why did you come here then?” She asks, her thumb stroking over his scarred hand. “If not to be saved, why did you come here?”

Why did he come here?

Fleeting thoughts of crawling to his ship, of slumping into the seat to flee the planet that seemed to turn against him when the bounty had gone wrong. His hand bumping across the controls, his blurry vision tracking the map before he finally clicked on the one name he could recognise from his memories. Or perhaps, from his dreams.

He doesn’t - he can’t - answer.

“You are where you’re meant to be.” The pain between his ribs begins to return - slowly and then with all it’s might and he clings to his mother’s hand. “I’ll see you again, Son.”

“Ma-”

“Soon.”

[rosedere]

Murder Mountain

(Yandere Azul Ashengrotto x Afab Reader)

Modern AU

TW: Dark Content, Attempted Murder, Harassment, Non Con/Rape.

Part 1, Part 2 (You are here), Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Cross Posted on AO3.

Part 2 Summary:

Azul and you take a trip into the mountains; Little do you know Azul has his own agenda.

-

Can you take me to northern California

Where the grass is greener

Can you make me dissappear

Be my puppeteer

Don't you leave again

-

You really didn't expect to get this far

literally and figuratively.

Arriving at the gated estate full of pine trees and golden fences, on the tall menacing gate before you was a entry buzzer, roughly, you pressed the button, a ring resounding from the buzzer on the outside post was heard echoing around the woods.

You weren't expecting to immediately be let in, the dark metallic gates opening before you effortlessly.

Pausing you looked around cautiously; no way your boss just let you in.

But you couldnt back down now was what encouraged you to walk up the winding driveway leading past the numerous gardens and waterways connecting to a massive renaissance fountain in the center of the estate further back.

Keeping your eyes peeled for any witnesses it seemed his sprawling estate was deserted.

Only after a few more minutes of walking, you made it to the illustserous main house.

You knew him being a multi billionaire would entail a huge house, but not to the extent of having a house as big as a small town.

At the doorstep, you observed his three doorway poarch the doors were made of a see-through glass with frosted tint coating said doors. Being able to see the interior of his spiraling house with dark wooden floors and almost minimal walls but nothing more without walking up to the door to look in.

Taking note of the garage next to the doorway along with a ten foot tall ornamental tree, you notived the massive garage was open with a several expensive cars sitting there,ominously, lined up in order of price most likely.

Noting Azul was no where to be found you approached the door in the middle looking for, something, to announce your presence.

Finally you spotted a doorbell, quickly you went to where the smart doorbell was.

you had your finger extended but before you could ring he doorbell, a hand was firmly pressed onto your shoulder.

With a hard swallow, you retracted your hand.

Turning, you were met with your enemy.

Azul Ashengrotto.

"No need for that, I'm already ready to depart"

You only looked stoic at him.

"You said you'd be here 30 minutes ago," He replied in his usual business tone.

Azul was wearing an expensive camping long-sleeve shirt you'd seen at designer sports stores, almost as much as your rent was if you had to make a guess was what he wore on his body along with matching hiking khakis.

It almost seemed like he was dressed up for someone.

Other than that, he didn't look noticeably different from how you'd normally see him in the office.

Including his scowl that was practically oozing discomfort.

Focus (name).

"just traffic, the walk up from where I parked didnt help either," you shrugged hoping your answer would appease him.

Not like you cared for his response, though.

waiting for a snide remark about your outfit or about your flimsy excuse it was silent for way too long.

Looking over at your boss instead of seeing him disgusted you watched him look you up from head to toe.

"it seems you decided to dress more feminine today" azul smirked, "it looks good on you I can actually see your body more in detail"

If only there wasnt so many cameras and possible witnesses out of sight...

Before you could stay angry however, he tossed you a black rectangular item, looking closer you realized it was a Electric car key.

Of course, he's rich enough to have a keyless car.

Azul walked off towards a car parked the furthest in the garage, looking in the back of the trunk you could see almost ten bags of god knows what stacked neatly in the deep trunk bed.

Thank god he did; easier to hide your lucky bag.

You load your "bag" into his trunk with hesitancy, loading it into the back of all the luggage so it wouldn't be of note to him or anyone looking through the trunk if the worst case scenario occurs.

"Is that all you brought?" Azul abruptly says from behind you causing a flinch from you.

He probably only was watching to make sure you didnt steal his luggage.

"It didn't seem necessary to bring much," you murmured, closing the trunk you walked towards the drivers side.

You got inside as fast as you could into the car first almost about to put the key inside when you realized Azul was still outside.

He seemingly was looking through his luggage off course confirming your earlier suspicions.

Ignoring him, you looked for the start button eventually finding it next to the console.

Pressing the ignition button, a jolt of worry from this morning stung you.

Why was this going too well?

Does he know I'm going to get my long-desired revenge?

Maybe this is a set up he probably is going to lure me there and Jade and the police will be waiting to-

"Never driven a car like this before or what?" Azul mocked this from his side in the passenger seat as he started buckling himself in closing the door with a hard slam.

"It's automatic; all you do is press the screen twice, put your location in, and then you steer once every 30 minutes," he explained, idly combing his finger into his hair seemingly in his own little world.

The mountain specifically.

You grabbed the steering wheel after you entered the directions to the campsite.

"Now drive"

-

The first 2 hours of the drive, nothing eventful happened, which intensified your sense of dread that kept sticking to you.

You tried to preoccupy your mind with softball, Jade, and your boyfriend. Azul was looking out the windows or would check his phone and fidget with it for moments at a time.

If you really focused on the winding roads that led the two of you deeper into the evergreen sea of trees, it almost felt like he wasn't there.

Until the beginning of hour 3.

You had been focusing on directing the bulky steering wheel getting it to turn on the windy passage up the mountain when you felt something weird.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Your hands around the steering wheel tightened.

Looking over pretending to fix the mirror was when you saw Azul.

Azul had been staring at you.

You looked again through your peripheral vision.

A pair of cerulean peered back towards you.

You had no idea what was behind his locked on stare, it was more annoying to you seeing him gawking at you if anything.

"You seem tired (name)"

Oh here it comes...

"Do you want me to drive?" Azul asked as he shifted his position from his seat.

He was now facing you directly with the same sickening look on his face to receive from someone who'd been cruel to you for so many years.

"Why do you ask Mr. Ashengrotto? We're almost there, but if you need to stretch, there's several rest stops and one gas station before we get to our destination," you gripped the steering wheel harder.

The mask is back on.

"Im merely suggesting so you can have enough..."

Suddenly his hands curled around your clothed thigh before vigorously kneading it.

"Energy for later," Azul smiled his gaze now looking up your side profile again.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine, Mr. Ashengrotto."

"Azul"

Azul then placed his hand onto your thigh giving it a gentle squeeze.

The discomfort was unbearable.

But you reassured yourself you had approximately 1 hour, 40 minutes, and 50 seconds to get ready for the next and last phase of your plan for revenge.

-

Out of the sea of evergreen trees you both found yourselfs surrounded by canyons and revines alongside occasional thick redwood trees and a few meadows scattered about.

10 feet to your destination.

A vast clearing overlooked a ravine that would lead up to one of the mountain structures besides the campground, and behind the cute little wooden cabins lining the rough rocky road was a unmistakable towering mountain.

The oppressive nature it had was hauntingly beautiful; you had to admire it from all sides in your mind.

The familiar camping ground your company always had events at was finally right in front of you.

You awkwardly parked the car next to the first cabin reserved for Mostro Inc.

Furthest from all the cabins...

Turning the ignition off, Azul immediately got out and walked towards the cabin, stretching and eventually reaching for his phone to call someone you couldn't quite pick up.

Good. 

You watched him disappear, guessing Azul wanted to go to the cabin to see if it was to his taste.

Hastily, you popped the trunk and grabbed some of his bags, noticing most were arranged differently from before.

You knew he would scold you if he didnt have access to his bag for a few moments too long.

Grabbing the expensive hard case luggage two at a time you began to approach the open door.

Step

Step

Step

You entered the cabin to reveal it to be an ordinary cabin.

Definitely worn from the conditions it would face from various seasons, but it had a touched-up quality to it, with a very comfortingly decorated entrance way leading to a small kitchen and living room full of cute camping decorations reminiscent of a cozy fall cottage.

To the right was a presumed guest room, which only had a full-sized bed with a whole antique wardobe, a bedside lamp, and one small window. On the opposite side of the hallway was the actual master bedroom of sorts.

It had a queen-sized bed with a built-in closet and bathroom you were about to further inspect it when you unexpectedly caught him walking out of the bathroom.

With something in his hands, one hand had something that was reminscent of...

Personal lubricant the label read.

His other hand contained a few pills you didnt recognize.

Weird.

"Mr- I mean Azul. I have some bags here"

"I'm not sure if you want me to get the rest of your luggage or-"

You held up the luggage youd brought hoping you could dash away from whatever was happening in front of you.

"Of course" he briefly answered.

You rolled the luggage towards the door when Azul suddenly spoke.

"Actually, can you set those bags in the kitchen?"He pointed at the bags you had.

Y/N….

You thought you misheard him.

Flashing a smile you quickly walked away into the kitchen to set them by the wooden coffee table in the center of it.

You turned around to walk back out when your eye was caught on the two glasses set on the counter. It seemed as if whoever had stayed here last had left some items.

Immediately you realized what Azul was most likely doing, shaking your head in disgust at the thought of your boss using the cabins you all used as his personal getaway for his many women.

Trying to push the image of Azul having sex out of your mind you walked back outside, almost knocking yourself against the heavy lock that was on the door.

Rubbing the spot on your left side as you walked down the wooden steps to the car.

Step

Step

Step

Only about A few bags remain.

Cautiously walking inside, you didnt expect to see your boss in the kitchen. It seemed he didnt notice you enter or if he did didnt acknowledge you as you heard the sound of pouring fill the room.

The sounds of glasses clinking and cutting against a hard surface was heard but grew distant as you continued into the master bedroom.

Placing the bags next to the bed you noticed he had left a box of chocolates next to the bed.

Most likely for him to eat by himself, you snickered before carrying on making sure to avoid the lock again, you carefully opened the door and noticed a slight hesitation on the door.

Weird.

Azul must be messing with it to make sure it locks. You couldn't blame him since, once again, he was the most expensive man in the world.

You grabbed the remaining bags.

Now is the time to act...

-

After carefully concealing your "bag,” you juggle it between the heavy luggage Azul had and prayed it was camouflaged enough, walking up the steps.

Step

Step

Step

Lock.

You leave the remaining bags in the master bedroom.

Only....

That feeling of extreme dread washes over you as you drop the last luggage onto the bed.

"Y/N, would you like a drink?”

Your eyes flicked to the glass he had in his hand; Cucumber water.

"I just wanted to turn a new leaf with you (name)"

Azul took a sip out of the glass in question.

"why dont we see this trip as a way to understand each other"

You still stared at him in disbelief.

Why now would he want to become friends or anything with you now?

"Sorry, I'm not really thirsty" you turned away from him picking your "bag" off the ground.

But before you could leave he blocked the doorway.

"Just a sip" he smiled.

You knew he wasnt asking anymore.

Gingerly you grabbed the glass before putting it to your lips, His eyes watching as you let yourself consume a little swig.

Weirdly enough, you were actually parched and the cucumber was refreshing. He did drink a little bit of it anyway so you knew he didnt do anything to poison you.

Azul was still standing before you waiting for you to take another sip of the liquid. Letting your lips touch the glass once more you drank eyeing him to see when he'd move.

Except he didnt move until you had downed the whole water.

"See that wasnt so bad (name)" he gingerly grabbed your glass before setting off towards the kitchen.

You rolled your eyes before taking the "bag" to the bedroom across. Leaving your bag ontop of the bed a wave of warmth wrapped around you.

The thrill of finally being able to inact your revenge was nearly through.

You unzipped the "bag" going through the motions of unzipping it.

Until you felt yourself suddenly lose control of your arms.

And then you passed out ontop of the bed next to your items.

-

You couldnt open your eyes but you could feel your bra being unclasped.

Someone was undressing you agonizingly slow.

You tried to move your hands only to feel them heavy. Not as if you were bound but you simply couldnt pick them up.

Using your strength you opened your eyes to see.

Azul.

And the now locked master bedroom before you.

[capricornsims]

Strangetown 1984

It was a chilly autumn evening in Strangetown when Pascal decided to search the galaxies. He only had to sneak past his father and peek into the telescope. He ripped off the " DON'T TOUCH" note before looking at the vast starry sky. "Whatcha doin'?!" "Nothing, just trying to see Venus...Don't tell Dad." " Ooooooo I'm telling!" " Scram- it's past your bedtime, leave me alone!

Suddenly a flash of light came out of the sky, like a giant meteor hurling towards town! Wait no! That wasn't a meteor!? Was that a plane!? A satellite! Pascal watched as it flew past the town- a loud whirring buzzing in his ears. " What the heck was that? Oh geez, oh gosh, I gotta tell Jenny!" Jenny was the only adult in the house who wouldn't ground him for eternity for using the telescope.

Knocking on the door Pascal cried and screamed, " JENNY! JENNY! UFO! OUTSIDE! lET ME IN"

Jenny was too busy blasting David Bowie to even hear Pascal yelling on the other side of the door.

Within a few minutes - a loud boom could be heard across Strangetown. The explosion caused every household to lose power in an instant. " What the hell?" Glarn grumbled hearing the loud protests of his children throughout the house. " Jenny! oh my watcher there's a U-" pascal cried " Did you trip the power fuse!?" Jenny yelled at him annoyed. " NO IT WAS THE UFO!" " What happened to the lights?" Vidcund called out. " I'm scared!!!" Lazlo sobbed. Kitty just shook her head, peeved that her novelas were interrupted.

-

Meanwhile:

"⌇⊑⟟⏁!"

It wasn't a crash landing- most of his ship was intact, but the bio-fuel spilled onto the sand with no way to save it.

He was so close to his target coordinates when the ship's integrity decided to fail.

He only had a single wormhole jump - and he used it to get to Earth. It was a miracle it withstood the entrance into the atmosphere.

"⌇⍜ ☊⌰⍜⌇⟒" << I was so close! So close!>> He kicked dirt, punched the ships metal- taking out his rage on it. Of course, he disregarded the immense pain he was in from the crash.

"⍙⊑⏃⏁⟒⎐⟒⍀" << Whatever...this is no use.>> "⍙⊑⟒⍀⟒ ⏃⋔ ⟟" << Where am I?>>"

This was a desert, he recognized. Much like Mars it was dry and rocky. Unfortunately, his target's coordinates appeared to be in a much more greener state. He tracked them all the way from Sixam, he could continue tracking them on Earth - however difficult it would be without his ship's radar. How hard would it be two find two hybrids amongst humans?

"⟟'⌰⌰ ☊⊑⟒☊☍" << I'll just check... I could be in any desert on the planet. Rven if I have to walk across the Earth to find them I will.>>

When he read his coordinates, and the human name for his location, he couldn't believe it was a real place. " Simerica" - it sounded so fake.

Apparently he was in a place called 'Strangetown' with a meager population. There wasn't much information other than that.

Pollination Technician #9 came to Earth in order to escape the fate of his eternal government contract.

His ship was destroyed, unable to fly...just as he had planned. All he had to do was survive and become human.

[radiocmyk]

How do we all feel about questioning posts that are way too long because I originally wrote them on Dreamwidth and was just having so much fun constructing them like some kind of prose

I'm starting to think that sometimes, maybe the best answers are the simplest ones, that you came up with right away before then overcomplicating things with forced "cool" or "rare" answers. Answers that make the most sense because they're so obvious as to be staring you right in the face, and not answers that you had to scrounge up from circumstantial subconscious fragments. Red-tailed hawk was the second theriotype I ever confirmed, and the first bird one. I've always been a buteo, and I knew that, but I went with Harris's hawk instead for so long. I guess it was because I knew red-tail was the "basic" bird kintype and thought people would think not that I was faking, but that I didn't actually do any research or have expertise on birds and went with red-tail because it was the only one I knew, which is almost a worse libel to me. Or because I felt like red-tail was too obvious, too simple, too easy, maybe too influenced by media and what's always been more popular? Early on in my blog I had even written a whole post, which blew up (well, for therian Tumblr standards), about the importance of looking into other predatory birds before one confirms red-tailed hawk, so the idea of then confirming it myself felt almost fraudulent, like I was a con artist.

Ever since accepting I'm also a red-tail, while I thought I was both, I just can't see myself as a Harris's hawk. It doesn't come naturally, it feels forced. I had this same problem summer of last year after I had been trying to explain why I felt like a hawk and decided on Harris's hawk, but "demoted" it to just a familiar cameo shift because it just didn't feel like I was being genuine. It felt like a mask. I had thought the problem was that I was too many different species, I had too many theriotypes, some of them were just wanting to be something, and I needed to Occam's razor down what was real and what was wishful thinking, and Harris's hawk was the first to go. But since then, I have confirmed additional theriotypes -- sea slater, mosasaur, as examples -- and harmoniously, with mental equilibrium. And it wasn't the first time I confirmed Harris's hawk only to feel like it was just off. The problem was the species, and this past August when I really truly accepted being a polytherian instead of trying to reduce reuse recycle with my theriotypes constantly and force myself down to three or four like I was shaving down a wood sculpture, which meant I accepted being a red-tail too (after so long too! Almost seven years), I was suddenly so much more focused on being a red-tail than I ever was on being a Harris's hawk. I just didn't feel like Harris's was important. It was like having a textbook that I loved reading, but then one day I got a shiny newer, updated version, and pretending like the old version was still my favorite had no point, because it was outdated and wasn't accurate.

Anyway, with all that being said, I think I have narrowed down my red-tailed species, which frankly feels more significant to me than being a Harris's hawk at all did. I see myself most in a paler color morph, but not completely white like a leucistic. I am drawn to both central northern American habitats like those in Alberta or Wyoming, and south western American desert habitats like places in Arizona and New Mexico. One of the reasons for clinging to Harris's hawk was that I felt so strongly about being a desert hawk, but felt like I must be a red-tail that lived in greener areas. I did not consider the possibility of a migratory subspecies that winters in the Sonoran.

May I introduce the Krider's hawk, Buteo jamaicensis kriderii, my specific subspecies. While much lighter in color than most red-tails, I am actually a particularly dark-colored individual of this subspecies. I see myself so gracefully in these photos.

I feel so at peace with this. I'm not a Harris's hawk, and more importantly, what makes this not like the last few times I de-confirmed Harris's hawk, I know what I am. I can send this piece of my personal history off to sea, finally satisfied with its closure.

[edosianorchids901]

It's a Dry Heat

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "an eternal summer"

“You know,” Aziraphale said thoughtfully, “I always thought an eternal summer sounded lovely.”

It took a second for the words to register; Crowley had been desperately sucking down the remaining water in his canteen. When he got the few drops, he looked to Aziraphale. “Wot.”

“Eternal summer. You know, like in Shakespeare’s Sonnets?”

“I think that’s a metaphor, angel. Thy eternal summer. Youth. Not literal summer.”

“I know it’s a metaphor.” For a moment, Aziraphale just pouted at him. “But I still thought the real thing would be lovely. Such a nice change from the chill.”

Crowley held his canteen above his mouth and shook it, hard. No water left, though. “And now?”

“Well…” Expression still thoughtful, Aziraphale looked over the cracked, barren soil that stretched out lifelessly in every direction. “I don’t think that anymore.”

“Lucky for you this is only normal summer, then.” Snorting, Crowley shook his canteen again. But nope. Nothing. “I told you we shouldn’t leave the damn path and cut across the desert.”

“It’s all desert, dear boy.”

“The other desert areas had plants.” Which meant water. Here, not so much. There was nothing here.

Aziraphale heaved a dramatic sigh as they clambered over the next crumbling hill to be greeted by even more dry ground. “I told you we ought to have taken up those cattleboys on their offer.”

“Cowboys,” Crowley snapped.

“But no, you had no desire to ride horses…”

“Horses are wankers. And honestly, they’d probably be dying right about how. Horses need water more than we do.” Technically speaking, angels and demons didn’t need water at all. But he and Aziraphale were both used to drinking something regularly—tea, coffee, cocoa, alcohol—and the inability to do so made Crowley twitchy. “D’ya have any left?”

Aziraphale wiggled his canteen. “I’m afraid not. And we have absolutely no clue how far we are from greener lands. I fear we shall perish.”

“Fuck that. I’ve had enough of trudging across the desert.” Crowley drew a deep breath, gathering energy. And then, exhaling slowly, he manifested his wings.

Black feathers stretched to the sky, and he closed his eyes as the heat of the sun seeped through them. The sun felt terrible on his corporation, but wings were different. Closer to his true nature, that of the serpent, and the serpent liked basking in sunlight.

Aziraphale gave him a skeptical look. “You can’t possibly be serious.”

“Why not?” Crowley gave an experimental flap, and sand swirled around their feet.

“Well, someone might see us, for one thing.”

“Who’s gonna see us out here? We’re in the middle of nowhere.” Not leaving time for argument, Crowley blasted into the air.

He flew in one big loop above Aziraphale’s head before the angel’s white wings appeared, and another full loop before Aziraphale launched into the air and joined him. Crowley flashed a bright grin, and Aziraphale glared in response. “I-I still don’t think this is a good idea. I’m very out of practice.”

“Me too.” Crowley looped around him again, muscles aching as he flapped his wings, twisted, dove. But it was a good ache, and it felt damn good to stretch his wings after so long. “But it’s this or probably discorporate from heat stroke.”

“I don’t want to discorporate from heat stroke.”

The matter settled, Crowley launched himself forward. The desert zoomed past underneath, seeming almost like nothing now that they weren’t crossing it step by step. His mouth remained dry, lips cracked, and skin roasted by the sun. But in a way, this was almost enjoyable now.

He and Aziraphale had never gotten to do this before, to really fly together. Hadn’t known each other in Heaven, and even in the early days on Earth they hadn’t done much more than coast down from high places. But full out flight, riding air currents while turning to occasionally grin at each other, was way more fun than he could have guessed.

And then he spotted it, green up ahead, the glint of sunlight off water. “Down there!” he called to Aziraphale, veering towards it.

They rocketed over a ranch, and a couple faces turned up towards them. Whoops. Hopefully they’d just get to be the subjects of a cool legend or something. Crowley might start one himself when they got to a town.

Crowley’s legs buckled as soon as he hit the ground, fatigue slamming into him all at once. But he was right on the shore of a small lake, and he scrambled forward to it with relief. He plunged his hands into the water, splashed it across his face, and then scooped up more to drink.

The heat of the sun vanished a split second later, and he looked up to see a white wing stretched overhead. “Gosh. Thanks, angel.”

“Of course. This was an excellent idea, my dear. And in truth, I rather enjoyed our flight.” Aziraphale beamed at him, then knelt for his own drink.

The white wing remained outstretched, providing shade, and Crowley smiled. All in all, he and Aziraphale might argue their way through trouble. But even an eternal summer wouldn’t be so bad if he and Aziraphale could spend it together.

[internallydeceased]

A Song of Dreamers - (Robb I)

Previously... Prologue

299 AC

Riverrun

The Riverlands is a beautiful place, filled with verdant plains and greener forests. The rivers that it is named for seem to run endlessly through it - broad blue brushstrokes cut across a canvas of green. It was once the home of his mother and where she had grown up, and for all intents and purposes it is far more beautiful than the gray monotony of the North. Yet to Robb, it is dreary and dreadful, and no matter how brightly the sun shines or breathtaking the landscape, it will never be anything more than a bad memory. 

It was in the Riverlands where they had received news that Theon Greyjoy had betrayed him and taken Winterfell; the home where they had grown up together as brothers. It was in the Riverlands where they were told that Theon had murdered his actual brothers and burnt his home to the ground. And it was in the Riverlands where he had found out his father had been murdered; executed by the bastard Joffrey Baratheon. 

He can still remember the day as though it were only yesterday: the skies overcast with dark clouds that held the promise of rain, the chill in the air that nipped at his skin that almost reminded him of home. He remembers the way the birds had been singing from their perches in the trees, the way his mother had smiled when they had broken their fast together that same morning. 

And then they received a raven with a scroll tied to its ankle. Dark wings, dark words. Perhaps he should have known, then.

He can still remember the way his heart seemed to shatter in his chest as he read the words inked on the parchment, the ache in his arm as he swung his sword against a tree again and again. Remembers how his vision blurred and he could not even see past his own tears. 

But most of all, he remembers the tears in his own mother’s eyes and how she had tried to hide them. How she had tried to stay strong for him, promised him that they would save his sisters and then they would kill them all. 

The next few turns of the moon had left Robb with a single-minded purpose of revenge that left room for little else in his mind. He ate little and slept even less, for he was too focused on when and where the next battle would take place. His mind filled with the intricacies of war and battle that seemed to be as much a part of him now as Grey Wind was. So when he had seen the familiar sights of red eyes and fur as white as summer snows, accompanied by a rider all in black - he had thought it nothing more than a vision at first. A trick of the mind, conjured up by the lack of sleep or perhaps even his grief stricken heart that longed for the family that remained to him. Yet there were differences to the figures before him, notable changes that were too dissimilar from the images of his memory to be anything but real. 

And the words that had left his lips in what felt to be both a lifetime ago and only yesterday echoed through his mind:  The next time I see you, you’ll be all in black. 

And the words rang true now. Jon was dressed all in black, with his dark hair wild about his head and a pained look in his gray eyes. Their father’s eyes. 

Ghost was bigger than when Robb had last seen him, though not as big as Grey Wind. Robb hadn’t realized just how much he missed Jon until they were wrapped in each other’s arms, greeting each other as though no time had passed at all. 

It was a balm to each of them, the death of their father bringing them closer together than they ever had been before. 

Robb learned that Jon had left Castle Black as soon as he received word of their father’s death, despite already having said his vows and knowing the cost of desertion. But Robb was the King of the North and the Trident, and Jon was his brother even if his surname was Snow. He pardoned him, much to his mother’s chagrin, and for the few moons that Jon was by his side again, he didn’t feel so alone or so consumed by his grief. Of course good things never lasted for long – bad things come in threes – and that adage proved true when they received word that Theon had betrayed him and seized Winterfell for his own, turning Bran and Rickon into prisoners in their own home. Roose Bolton had tried to convince him that he would send his bastard to retake it, but Robb had politely refused him. Jon had offered to go, and who did Robb trust more than him? His mother hadn’t liked it, but she had liked Jon being around Robb and being forced to tolerate his presence even less. So it was that Jon went back North with a number of men, but had arrived too late. Theon and his Ironborn were gone, and Winterfell was left in ruin. Worse still were the burned bodies he had found of two children that were roughly the size and shape of their brothers. Robb didn’t truly believe it was them. In his wolf dreams, he could still sense Summer and Shaggy Dog far off in the North, further North than Ghost was then. If their wolves were still alive, then his brothers had to be as well. When he informed his mother of what Jon had found, she had screamed and raged that it was somehow Jon’s fault. That Jon was the reason her youngest boys were dead. Robb had tried to console her, for they were Jon’s brothers too and that he would have Theon’s head for what he had done. But all his mother could do was sob and blame him for ever trusting Theon and Jon in the first place.  Robb wrote to Jon to have him send men to search for any trace of Theon and to hold Winterfell until he could return. After all, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell, and even though Jon was a Snow, he still had the blood of the Starks running through his veins. His mother had done her best to appear strong in public, to hide her tears from his men. Though Robb was sure that no one would blame her for them, she had lost much and more in the last year that no wife or mother should ever have had to. In private, when it was just the two of them, she made no effort to hide them from him. It was then that he became her strength, when before she had always been his.

The sight that greets him now is altogether different as they stand in the castle that had once been her home. Now, his mother does not pretend to be strong any longer. Her cheeks are still wet from her tears though she is no longer crying - her lashes still wet and her eyes red. There is silver in her hair where before there was only red. Her figure has thinned some, and he knows that she has not been eating well. His mother looks to be a broken woman, appearing older than her years. 

His heart aches for her, and yet there is nothing he can do. He cannot bring his father back, he cannot be the one to put Winterfell back together or bring his brothers back safely. Everyone believes them to be dead too, though Robb still holds onto the hope that they are out there somewhere - alive. 

Nor can he return Lord Hoster Tully to the land of the living so his mother might say goodbye. 

It is his first time really seeing Riverrun - the halls where his mother had been born and grown and played. Where his parents had met and married in Riverrun’s Godswood before King Robert’s Rebellion. The place where he had been born as well, though he holds no memory of this place. Yet they are here now to lay his grandfather to rest, to say goodbye to a man that he cannot recall. 

Every day this war goes on, Robb feels as though he is running on ice; his body moving yet making no forward motion. He has won every battle he has fought, yet he is still losing the war. His purpose had died the day the Lannisters cut off his father’s head, and every morning it feels as though another tragedy awaits them - to sink its claws into them and tear into their flesh until nothing remains but their bones. 

The only happy memory that the Riverlands holds for him is when he was reunited with Jon for that brief period, but even that feels so far away and is dulled by all the tragedy and heartache that seems to hound his steps like crows over carrion. 

The day was overcast, much like it had been when they received word of his father’s death, though then the clouds had been so dark they’d been almost black. As though the Gods themselves raged and mourned the loss of the honorable Lord Eddard Stark. Now, the clouds are more gray in color, and though they cover the sun in its entirety, the glow from it can still be seen. Lord Hoster Tully, Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Trident, is laid to rest in a boat dressed in his finest silks with the banner of House Tully laid over him. His armor, shield, hunting horn, and a wooden sword is added to the boat along with him. Robb, with the help of Lord Jonos Bracken, Lord Tytos Blackwood, Lord Karyl Vance, Lord Jason Mallister, Ser Marq Piper, and Lord Walder Frey's son Lothar, set the boat down the Red Fork like so many Tullys before him. His uncle Edmure tried three times to set the boat alight with a flaming arrow, before his great uncle, Brynden - also known as the Blackfish - took the bow from his nephew and successfully set the boat alight. They watched silently from the docks as the boat was consumed by flames and made its way down the Red Fork, Lord Hoster’s family and bannerman bidding him a final farewell. Robb’s own eyes are dry, though his face remains solemn. He had never known his grandfather, though he mourned his loss nonetheless. It is for the sake of his mother that his heart aches now, for the loss of a father after she has already suffered the loss of a husband and the supposed loss of two sons. Her daughters far away and out of reach, and Robb himself is the only child that remains to her. All that remains of the husband she has lost. 

He doesn’t sleep much that night. Instead, he stays awake to watch over his mother as she sleeps fitfully through the night. Watches as she tosses and turns in her bed, her eyes red and cheeks tear-stained even in her sleep. Will the Gods not allow her even this small peace? Will they continue to cause her grief even in sleep? Hound her steps with loss in dreams just as they do in her waking hours?

The final thought that echoes through his mind before sleep tugs at him where he sits at his mother’s bedside is this: When will the Gods see fit to grant us peace?

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫ It is often said that among every tragedy and loss there remains a silver lining, and the saying proves to be true once more through a message borne to him on raven wings. King’s Landing has fallen to His Grace, Stannis Baratheon. The Usurper Joffrey Baratheon died a traitor’s death. Cersei Lannister and her other bastard son are dead, all of their heads set to rot on spikes. 

It feels like the first time Robb has smiled in years, though he wishes he had been the one to take Joffrey’s head. To part it from his body with his own sword, like the bastard had ordered done to his father - too craven to do it himself. 

There is more to the scroll he has received, but for now all he can focus on is the sheer relief and happiness those words bring him. 

Robb’s feet bring him to where Jaime Lannister is caged, Grey Wind at his side and the scroll still clasped in his hand. To see the Golden Lion now: laid low and covered in his own filth, left to rot in the mud and watched over by the very same Northmen his family sought to make an enemy of… it feels good. 

When the Kingslayer looks up to see who has deigned to visit him, his green eyes are still just as bright as the day he was defeated and imprisoned. When he sees that it is Robb who has come to visit him, that self-satisfied smirk takes up his face once more. And Robb meets it with one of his own - can’t wait to see it shatter and fall.

“Ah, the King of the North!” Jaime cries, his smile smug and tone mocking. “What is it that brings you to see me today? Has my father worn you down? Has he finally gotten you to realize that you have no hope of winning this war?” 

Robb can’t help but laugh, lip curled up in a sneer. If only you knew what I am about to tell you,he thinks. Then you would not be so smug. “I’ve come with news, Lannister. To deliver to you the fates of your sister and your bastard sons.” He leans forward then, grasps one of the bars that encage Tywin Lannister’s favorite son. “I thought you might like to know, Kingslayer. But, if you’d rather continue to make mock of me, go ahead.” 

It pleases him more than anything to see that flash of fear in the Kingslayer’s eyes - that hint of doubt. Grey Wind’s hackles rise as a rumble emanates from the direwolf, lips snarling up as yellow eyes land on the Lannister - a mirror to a moment not too long ago, when Jaime Lannister had mocked him for being a boy, only for Robb to remind him that he was only mocking himself, for he was the one who had been beaten by a boy. 

When a moment of silence passes between them without any word from Ser Jaime, Robb finally speaks up. “Stannis Baratheon has taken King’s Landing. Your sister and your bastard sons are dead.” His words echo the words inked on the raven scroll, though he leaves out that their heads were left to rot on spikes above the city gates. Because even for as much as Robb hates the Lannisters, believes that everything that befell Joffrey, his mother, and his brother was more than deserved… He still recognizes that they meant something to the man before him. And perhaps the more gruesome details of that letter are better left out. 

Still, as Robb witnesses an array of emotion cross over Jaime Lannister’s face - watches as that smug grin and self-satisfied air that always seems to hang about him - shatter and crumble before him … he cannot help the sick sense of pride that claws at his chest. That sense of righteousness, that finally the Gods have seen fit to punish his enemies. 

Robb doesn’t linger before the Kingslayer for long. After all, he has many duties to attend to. Joffrey Baratheon may be dead, but Tywin Lannister still lingers to the West. The war that Robb started to rescue his father from the dungeons of the Red Keep, that then turned into a war for vengeance against the boy-king who had taken his head is not over. 

Robb knows that Tywin Lannister will not stop just because his daughter and grandsons are dead. But, Robb still holds Tywin’s favorite son prisoner, and that perhaps lends him some advantage. And now King’s Landing is beneath the rule of Stannis Baratheon, the false king Joffrey Baratheon firmly crushed beneath his heel. 

It is only when he returns to the keep proper that Robb gets the chance to read the scroll in its entirety:

To the Usurper, Robb Stark

King’s Landing has fallen to His Grace, Stannis Baratheon. The Usurper Joffrey Baratheon died a traitor’s death. Cersei Lannister and her other bastard son are dead, all of their heads set to rot on spikes. 

Come to King’s Landing and bend the knee to His Grace, and you shall be shown mercy and allowed to keep your father’s title of Warden of the North. 

If you do not, and continue to call yourself King in the North and rebel against the Crown, you will be met with the same fate that was visited upon Joffrey Baratheon. 

Robb scowls as his eyes trail over the last words inked on the scroll, brows furrowing in contemplation. Of course, it all seems so easy when spelled out in such a way. The purpose of vengeance that his war has become has been all but carried out - even if it was not by his hand. He should be able to just go home, resume his place as Lord of Winterfell and rest. After all, it isn’t as though he wanted to be named King in the North. His bannermen declared him as such, told him that he was the only King they meant to bend their knee to. 

Why shouldn’t we rule ourselves again? Lord Umber had said. It was the dragons we bowed to, and now the dragons are dead! 

Yet how can he turn his back on them now? He may not have wanted it, but he had accepted it all the same. Were he to bend the knee to Stannis now, it would be as though he were betraying them. So even though such a thing might be easier, he cannot. 

He has to go on fighting, until Tywin Lannister is defeated and until the North is recognized as a free and independent kingdom, unfettered by the shackles of the Iron Throne.

Or die trying.

[morgulscribe]

A Brief History of Lithlad: A Theoretical Human Civilization in Gorgoroth

Originally written in December 2021, this lore-heavy chapter from Book 7 of The Circles by Angmar and Elfhild explores the possibility of a theoretical human civilization in Gorgoroth in the Second and Third Ages. The Dolrujâtar are a tribe of sheep and goat herders who dwell in the arid region of Lithlad. The Dolrujâtar and their enemies, the Sand Orcs, play a major role in Book 7 of The Circles, "Land of Treachery."

Viewers who watched Amazon's Rings of Power series were introduced to the "Southlanders" - a civilization in a mysterious land which is later revealed to be Mordor. While "A Brief History of Lithlad" was NOT inspired by RoP - having been written almost a full year before the show first debuted - those who were intrigued by the Southlanders might also find this chapter of The Circles of interest. A timeline and extensive research notes pertaining to Mordor's early history are located at the end of the chapter.

Excerpt from Chapter 7: "A Brief History of Lithlad"

No one knows when the ancestors of the Dolrujâtar first migrated to the region of Southern Gorgoroth, but, according to legend, they were there when the Giver of Gifts came out of the East and bent the Fiery Mountain to His will. Though over the centuries, they came to adopt the Black Speech as their own tongue, they still retain some traces of their ancestral language. The Dolrujâtar dialect contains many words of Khandian and Rhûnian origin, a linguistic hint that at least some of the ancestors of the tribe once hailed from these lands.

According to legends passed down from generation to generation, the ancestors of the Dolrujâtar originally settled in northeastern Nurn, but conflict with other tribes who had settled in the same area forced them further north and west. Passing between the encircling arms of the mountains through the Gap of Nurn, the tribe came at last to the arid grasslands of Lithlad and Gorgoroth. Though the land was much greener in those days, it was still far less desirable than the lush paradise of Nurn, and so the tribe became lords of the wastes. During periods in which the Mountain of Fire lay sleeping, the flocks and herds grazed upon the grasses which grew about its rocky slopes. Some of the oldest members of the tribe remember a time in which Northern Gorgoroth was not a burnt-out desert, but that was almost eighty years ago. Since the return of the Lord of Middle-earth, the Dolrujâtar have remained south of the Mountain, far from its circle of destruction.

Although the ancestors of the Dolrujâtar had little to worry about from their southern neighbors, the region of Gorgoroth was not without enemies. Over the long years, many clans of orcs had come to make the Mountains of Shadow and Ash their home, building and fortifying their lairs in the many deep caves, rock overhangs, and narrow defiles which score the craggy ridges. Some of these clans claim that their ancestors dwelt in Mordor as far back as the dark days ere the Sun first arose, but many scholars doubt the veracity of such claims. When contemplating the ancient days, oft there is more supposition than concrete fact. These feral mountain orcs had no true overlord, only their own tribal chieftains, and they often warred against one another. When they were not fighting amongst themselves, they would harass the tribesmen, raiding their villages and stealing their livestock.

The ancestors faced other threats in Gorgoroth besides the orcs, many of which trouble the Dolrujâtar to this day; but such is life in a savage land. Roving bands of desert wolves would prey upon their herds, as well as the occasional scimitar cat from the mountains. Not even the air was safe; the winged fell beasts would swoop down from the heavens and carry away frantically bleating sheep and goats in their claws. Sometimes the fell beasts would fly off with an unlucky tribesman as well. Other creatures posed grave dangers for the ancestors… Enormous spiders, as large as horses, as well as cave trolls, made their dwellings in the mountains, devouring hapless travelers who wandered too close to their lairs. And then there is the great canyon which runs through the Gap of Nurn, Baur Tîmursham, the Dreadful Gorge. It is said that an ancient evil dwells in Baur Tîmursham, and that death or madness befall any who venture into the shadowy caverns which lie at the head of the canyon. The Dolrujâtar shun the area, considering it cursed, the home of evil spirits.

The ancestors had to be a hardy and resilient folk to survive in such a perilous realm, but it would help that they received the blessings of the Lord of Middle-earth shortly after they settled in Lithlad… Indeed, the tribe has been very fortunate to be so well favored by the Giver of Gifts. 

According to legend, one day a mysterious wanderer from the East came to the Oasis of the Solitary Cedar. Like a man He was in appearance, but yet no mere mortal was He. His skin was as pale as bones bleached by the sun, and His hair flowed in the desert breeze as a river of fire; an aura of radiance surrounded Him, and His amber eyes shone with an otherworldly light. So great was His beauty that all of the women of the tribe, and many of the men, even those who did not favor their own gender, instantly fell in love with him.

The wanderer informed the tribesmen that He was an emissary of the Elder King, who had been unjustly exiled to the Void, and that He was tasked with the rule of Middle-earth in the absence of His Master. The Giver of Gifts, He called Himself, for great was His largess, and abundant were the blessings He would bestow upon those who followed Him. Long had He wandered the lands of the South and East, seeking the ear of kings and rulers, so that He might bring truth and enlightenment to all people. For the False Gods had utterly abandoned Middle-earth, and only He cared for the plight of the earth's many inhabitants. A beautiful island and years beyond those of mortal Men had the Valar given their chosen ones, but naught but death and despair were the lot of the lowly men who were considered unworthy of their favor. But the Giver of Gifts would right all the wrongs, and usher Middle-earth into a golden age of progress and prosperity the likes of which had never been seen before.

READ THE REST OF THE CHAPTER AT https://archiveofourown.org/works/43006584/chapters/129312532

The Circles Map of Mordor: https://circlesofpower.neocities.org/thecircles/MordorMap2021.jpg

[xaallo]

How long did it take the Margavens to leave their home-world for the first time? What was their initial disposition towards the unknown universe like? What was Hifrandius like at the time? How willing or reluctant were other Margavens to make homes elsewhere?

As much as I want to say 'it didn't take as long as mankind', now that I think on it, that actually might be a lie. Margavens are long-lived and their outlook on the world is colored by that. However, they also lived on a large arid planet. If there was a compulsion to leave, it would be to search for greener (literally) pastures and other life forms.

Margavens are definitely xenophilic, in the intra and extra-planetary sense. I can't give you an exact timeframe, but I know their initial disposition was one as stewards of the up-and-coming sentients. As described in their lore, Margavens never felt a need or desire to dominate or interfere with these younger, burgeoning races.

Clashers were more reluctant. They are better suited to and rather enjoy their arid home. The dancers, however, come more from the few jungles on the world. There were some tensions when terraforming first began being used on the world, as they were slanted in the direction of the Dancers (more jungles) and away from the Clashers (less deserts). So, in order to ease those tensions, I'm sure the Dancers were more than willing to branch out!

[sachingja]

"It's okay if you fall asleep." glinda for fiyero!

he watches her, always watches her — doesn't have much else to look at all day long, the hours dwindling away one clock-tick at a time, drawing him in restless shades until, finally, he will be dismissed and given the freedom to pursue whatever he desires / as carefully as he could be, on the lookout for her, or for whatever he craves that particular day. this night, he found it in the chambers of a young tailor, who caught his eyes weeks ago on a stroll through the emerald paved city. these encounters, however rare they are, might satiate a physical need but never give him what he is really looking for, that empty space in the concave between his ribs impossible to ever be filled. he found it once, almost had it, and then it flew off into the skies towards greener pastures and left the both of them behind.

glinda understands, he knows as much. she understands better than most, than anyone else perhaps, and they understand each other. it's all they have inside the stifling palace walls, where the hallways, doorways, and floors have eyes and ears.

fiyero is slow as he strips off his uniform, the buckles coming apart slowly beneath his clumsy fingers. his bones ache but it is what they do these days, not enough rest in between frequent trips into the desert and further out; he has been to kiamo ko on the off chance elphaba might be hiding there. the only friend he has ever really known to see beneath the shallow into the depths of him, where unhappiness seemed to encapsulate every inch of him. steadfast, endless. another yearning ache. he is exhausted, but they both know he won't stop until he finds her — glinda, for as much as she loves to claim otherwise in the public eye, would never let him cease before they would have a definite answer. and in the meantime, he will keep his ear to the ground, on the off-chance that, perhaps, their alliances might be closer than they'd think.

now, though, he is too tired to resist her. it happens like this always, their bed a little too inviting, the sweet promise of sleep beckoning him closer. " i will have to wake early for the shift change, anyway, " he murmurs, but sinks into the soft mattress besides her, his head coming to rest on her thigh. she smells familiar, like home. " the new recruits would be sad to miss their captain of the guard, i am sure, " he says, a yawn stretching his jaw unattractively wide. years ago, he would have never done this in front of anyone, not even his own mirror. " you know, you do not need to wait up for me, right? " but a smile steals past his lips anyway; it is sort of nice to know there is at least someone waiting for him to come home.

⋆ . · * ·✵ · ✹ · ✹ *  gentle care / accepting.

[tentacledtherapist]

Lisa,

It's funny, despite living in New England all my life I don't think I could ever tire of it. The town I grew up in has a church from the 1780s. One of the many places George Washington stayed is nearby. I grew up in graveyards and old buildings and sinking my arms as deep as they could in the Weird and the Old and the Dark. It makes me unbelievably happy. (It helps that I run warm too, it makes a world of difference to be in a cooler area!) It is funny that we have Wild West Towns and you have Winter Villages when the weather is so opposite. It has a weird cognitive dissonance I think, that makes it humorous. A very dry fake snow covered place at 90 degrees while we have a Fake Desert covered in Real Snow. Why are humans like this I wonder, besides the novelty of what we Don't Have? Like a Medieval Times despite not ever having a european medieval period in America.

I recently watched Bones and All, and while I'm not sure about how well it measured up to the book, I absolutely ADORED it. The metaphor is not lost on me and there is something so jarring and so good about it. I actually do recommend the film, I think I know which actor you speak of and despite not liking them much either their work was really good in this film in particular. I loved making it a bit more of a 1980s period piece to give everything this distance from our current world, and also the narrative the movie is trying to pull opposed to the book. It makes the story make a bit more sense as a movie, in its own way? I'm not someone turned away by cannibalism, so it's not such a weird conept to me. I don't think I'd play a reluctant cannibal character if I was.

I'm so glad we are on the same page about these sorts of stories! Its like getting back to the roots of many of these horror genres, how they turn back into these stories with metaphors about humanity. Dracula and Frankenstein, Carmilla, they're more about people than they are about monsters to me. I'm fairly certain there's roots in Oscar Wilde's famous trials in Dracula, about the fear of male intimacy, since Bram Stoker has been more recently well known for being potentially queer, and Dracula was also inspired partially by Carmilla, itself a horrific lesbian romance. And even beyond that, the strange, the foreign, the twisted humanity, what we see in ourselves reflected from others. Then Frankenstein has its own whole host of human fears laced in it. Parenthood, homosexuality, theology, science. Human connection, our greatest fear and our greatest salvation.

I could write essays about horror, I really could.

- Your Creature

P.s.: I wish you luck with your project! Maybe order from them online? I hate when things are out of stock.

creature,

ordering things online is my Least Favorite way to order things but. i had to and now i must Await My Packidge. agony

i think we’re both talking about timothee chanalet i have no idea how to spell his name— at least i was— there’s nothing wrong with him! i just don’t… care for anything he’s really been in? it’s just never really clicked for me, i guess. but!!! if you endorse the movie, i’ll give it a shot! you haven’t led me astray with media suggestions yet! :D

as for the oddly out of place landmarks: isn’t it human nature to want what we can’t have? there’s a reason we have the turn of phrase “the grass isn’t always greener on the other side”

i would love to read your essays, if you ever decide to write any. you have such… amazing thoughts about this stuff? about horror and the nature of humanity and about love and the inhuman and just… all of it. i’ve genuinely loved reading your thoughts in our letters. i’m so sure i’ve said it before, but just in case: it’s so nice to hear your thoughts on stuff. i missed hearing from you, adam. both while i was away and also. like. lifetime kinning stuff. i keep going back to read things you’ve written me because they’re just so good. you have such a way with describing the things you’re interested in an the things you’re passionate about? i’m going a little overboard, i think, but,,,

suffice it to say: if you ever decide to write an essay and you need a proofreader? i’m your gal

the horrors of each era reflect our society’s fears during that era, but there’s something to be said about the inherent, timeless, and unshakeable fears about humanity and the Other (tm tm tm). those fears, those insecurities about the self? they never go away. i think that’s why we as a society love stories about them so much

- Your Lisa

[chaos-societies]

Episode 9, The Green Hills

[x] – The Hills – Talisk

The first day of travels after their pit stop at Búra’s homestead was light and uneventful. The night out in the wild made the gang already miss Búra’s welcome, but they managed. The next morning was cool and there was dew on the flora around. They continued northwest and soon came up on a hill. As they did, they could tell the world around them was different. It was the first hill that was completely covered in lush green grass – no signs of dirt or sand.

As they reached the top, they looked out and saw something they had never seen before. For miles, as far as the eye could see, green hills covered the expanse. Some hills small, some obscured the horizon, some were bare and some had tall and healthy trees. The sight shone a new spirit in the crew and even brought tears to Amy’s eyes. The grass was a deep green and white clouds speckled the pure blue sky overhead.

Sonic and Tails let out a gasp as they sprinted (and flew) off with excitement. They could say no words as laughter and chuckles obscured their vocal chords. Rouge and Amy took a seat on top of that hill and took in the sights. Amy’s hand was mindlessly running through the soft grass. The grass was short where they were but they could see where it grew tall not far off. Sonic was already probably half a mile off in the distance. He sprinted through the tall grass leaving a trail mowed over in his wake; a path carved into the undisturbed stalks that weaved sporadically about the hills.

“I take it these are the Green Hills.” Rouge stated the obvious.

Amy wiped another tear from here eye. “It’s beautiful.” She sniffled a little. “I’ve never seen so much green!”

Rouge took a deep breath of the cool fresh air and just smiled. “Yeah.”

Meanwhile, Sonic continued to run and Tails hovered over him. The landscape became an instantaneous escape and they relished in the moment. Sonic’s arms were extended so he could feel the brush of the tall stalks as he wisped by. Tails flew a bit lower and reached one hand down so he could do the same.

At one point the grass began to shrink down to a similar height as that first hill. Sonic stopped and Tails followed suit, hovering a bit as he lowered his feet gently onto the ground below. They looked back and saw Rouge and Amy maybe a little more than a mile off sitting and relaxing. Sonic waved to them and they waved back. He placed his hands on his waist and looked around. The sight of endless rolling hills of green and the earthy scent of the greenery around made Sonic extremely content. But it also shot a pang of sadness through him. All his life, he had lived on South Island and though it was vastly greener there than in the Greater Area, it paled in comparison to this. But that was his home and he knew he would have to return to the desert once again and eventually for good once they were all finished with their journey. He almost wished he could live in the free open Green Hills forever but knew he couldn’t abandon his friends and family, and his chapter of his Society.

The sadness left him as a breeze rolled through and the light rustling of the grass was heard all around. Waves were seen rolling over the hills from the wind as if they were in a green ocean. He smiled once more.

Sonic and Tails made their way back to Rouge and Amy who were now standing on that same hill they left them on. Amy was twirling around with her eyes closed, chin high, and arms extended out. As Sonic came up, she stopped and smiled at him. “Oh, this is wonderful isn’t it!”

“It sure is!” Sonic answered. But Amy continued.

“The air is so fresh, the scent is new, the breeze is cool, there’s so much green!” She placed her hands on her chest and took a deep breath.

Something came over Sonic and he formed a light grin as he walked up to Amy and took her hand. He pulled her a bit and twirled her to kick off a bit of a dance. They moved around in the grass smoothly. Tails smiled while Rouge rolled her eyes. After a few extra seconds, Tails broke out his feadóg and began playing a light tune. Rouge couldn’t fight the feeling for long and began lightly clapping to keep a beat with Tails’ tune.

The couple continued to dance for a bit, now to Tails’ jig instead of a melody inside their heads, and as the tune slowed down to end on long note, Sonic and Amy also concluded their dance.

They rejoined Rouge and Tails and quickly decided it would be a good time to stop for some food. They sat down on top of that same hill and began eating, looking out at the vast sea of green. The meal was relatively quiet as they just stared at the sight in front of them. Who knew a view with nothing but hills and a few trees could be so breathtaking, but when that sight is new, and so different from empty desert, it was wondrous to the quartet.

Knowing they couldn’t sit for much longer, and that they could continue to take in the scenery as they journeyed northwest to Smithwick, they cleaned up from their meal and strode on.

The ground beneath their feet was firm compared to the sand they were used to but also soft and not a discomfort to their roving feet. The grass was soft as they kept up a good stride often with hands extended. The breeze continued to welcome them to the new land and the sounds of flickys in some of the trees created a peaceful ambience.

They continued their trek and as the day continued, they knew they should be able to see Smithwick at some point off in the distance. But for the first time since leaving South Island, they almost wished they would not arrive at the seaside city just yet. The buildings, streets, commotion and crowds of a city were not at all appetizing to them now that they were in the open lands of the Green Hills. But nonetheless, they continued on to try and make it to their destination before it got too late. The sun was already setting to the east as it did on Mobius and the far off peaks of the Sléibhte Scáthaigh were barely seen over the top of some of the hills. The sun began dipping below the highest peaks on the far off horizon and the sky to the west was warm with sunset colors.

They came up atop a hill and finally saw Smithwick off in the distance. The landscape sloped down from that hill but the green pasture continued to the city and beyond. The sea was sparkly with the sun’s dying light and lights from the city were beginning to shine as the night sky took over. They figured another hour to two they would be out of the fields and back to the city. They were reminded of their first visit to Cap and prepared for the variance of Societies and hustle from street vendors.

Tails broke out a piece of paper that showed a rough layout of Smithwick that Uncle Chuck gave them. The library was on the far end of the city, opposite of the ocean but was not too far from them as they were coming up on the southeastern part of the city with the ocean to the city’s southwest. Tails explained the location of the library and the crew decided to stop by the next day after finding a lodge for some rest and a warm meal. And with that, they moved on – saying goodbye to the lush Green Hills for the time being as Smithwick awaited their arrival.

[x]

As the gang entered the city, their expectations were met as all types of people moved about despite it being well past dusk by now. They did not enter right into a market place as they did when they arrived at Cap which was a relief for the weary travelers. They quickly decided to find an inn and settle for the night and pay a visit to the library the next day.

They passed a few inns that clearly delineated specific Societies. ‘Greens Only’ – they continued to move on. ‘No Reds Allowed’ – it fit the mark for the time being but they still felt weary about it, especially if Knuckles joined them before they left. Finally they came across an inn with a sign posted in the window, ‘All Colors Welcome’. It was not in as great of condition as the others but it wasn’t bad and definitely felt like a place worthy of their patronage. They stopped by.

As they walked in, they saw many Mobians dressed in varying attire attributing to their respective Society. Though all were welcome, they all still sat in cliques with groups of their own. They approached the innkeeper behind a desk near the front. “What can I do ya for?” He asked.

“Two rooms please, two beds each if you can spare them.” Sonic asked.

“Sure thing. What Society?”

“Oh, uh.” Sonic was a little taken back. He looked at the rest of his group with a raised brow. “I thought all Societies were welcome?”

“Oh sure! We have rooms available in all our Society-separated corridors!” The innkeeper said cheerfully.

It definitely wasn’t what they were expecting but they shrugged it off. “Uh, Cyan please.”

“Sure thing, right this way.” The innkeeper stepped out from behind the desk and took them to a small hallway with a few doors with a cyan colored pane. “I assume one room for the lassies and one for you two lads?”

“Correct.” Sonic answered.

Their host nodded and opened the first room. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact it looked better than the exterior of the establishment. “Will this suit ya?” Sonic gave a thumbs up. “May I ask how long you’ll be staying?”

“Uh.” Sonic looked at Amy. She shrugged her shoulders. “Can we pay night-by-night?”

“Of course. Just ask that if you are looking to take your leave you let me know at the desk by mid-day ‘tis all.”

Sonic smiled kindly and agreed. Amy brought out a coin sack of tokens and gave the innkeeper the pay for the rooms. He thanked them and gave them a rundown of amenities before returning to the desk.

The four of them decided to freshen up after their long travels and then meet in the lobby for a meal. After some time, they were all ready except Rouge.

After a few urges from Sonic and Tails to get her moving, she came out of her and Amy’s room and they headed to the lobby. They each sent their food ticket to the bar and waited for their food at a table near the Cyan hallway.

“Well I’ll be.” They all heard in a familiar voice. Sonic felt a firm grip on his shoulders as he looked up to see Knuckles staring down at him. “And here I figured you’d be staying at the ‘No Reds’ inn down the street.” He said with a smirk.

“We almost did, figured it’d keep us from running into you.” Sonic jested. He stood up and gave Knuckles a fist bump. “Good to see you! How long have you been here?”

“Got here yesterday. I had to sell a few bushels of fruit from Angel Island before I could rake in a comfortable amount of tokens. I still hate how you all have to deal with currency down here. Was getting some grub myself when I saw you all sit down here.” He pulled up a chair and joined them.

The quintet exchanged stories of the past few days. Sonic Amy Rouge and Tails on their travels, Búra, and their experience that morning seeing the Green Hills. Meanwhile, Knuckles joked about all the shenanigans his group up on Angel Island got into. They all ate their food and had a pint or two of some beer before calling it a night. They arranged a time to meet and head out to the library first thing in the morning.

…

Sonic was not greeted by any morning sun the next day. In fact, to his slight surprise, he awoke to the light sound of consecutive ‘tings’ and a grey sky. It was raining outside. He slowly got out of his bed and gave a big stretch. He scratched his sides as he looked over at Tails in his bed, still sound asleep with his hands under his cheeks and the occasional flick of his ear. The sight gave Sonic a bit of a smile before turning his gaze out the window. The rain was light but steady. It shouldn’t give them any issues to travel to the library later. He also figured it must have been much later in the day than he, or any of his crew, likely anticipated waking up to. But after their travels out in the wild and having only the grace of one night at Búra’s, he was glad to sleep in.

He and Tails were out in the common area drinking some tea while waiting for the rest of their crew. Knuckles joined them, though not from his room but from the streets where he claimed to have been searching for some fresh fruit in the market. Shortly after Amy and Rouge emerged and they took their leave for the library.

Though it was not the first time the crew had seen rain, it definitely was not as common in the Greater Area as it was there in the Green Hills. The topography would surely look different had it been. But they enjoyed it, more so than their encounter with the storm after leaving Cap for they did not have to sleep under cover from the weeping sky. The light drizzle and the cool air made for a brisk climate and the ambience was peaceful. There were many overpasses and a lot of cover as they traversed through Smithwick so their fur and clothes remained mostly dry.

The city was vastly different than Cap, as that was their only frame of reference for anything urban. Grey and white stone were the basis for the structures around. Lichen and moss were sometimes growing on the structures and vines draped portions of walls in some parts. The architecture was different as well. With arches of stone wedged perfectly together to support the block to its sides and crude etchings in the stone, there was an aesthetic to the place.

They came across a courtyard with an aqueduct that ran overhead with little rivulets spawning from it, leading to smaller channels that snaked around. Some of the outpourings led to a garden behind a rusty metal gate. Another few led to a fountain where some people were washing their clothes, not even being bothered by the trickling of the rain. A large portion of the aqueduct passed by a watermill with a small window above the wheel that allowed the scent of delicious fresh bread to creep out into the open air. A bakery must have been on the other side of the watermill, utilizing the rushing water’s motion to mill grain. The group was curious if the rain had any major affect on the water level of the aqueduct or if the flow they were seeing was about standard on most days.

They passed through some small tunnel-like passageways where steps branched off the path and led up to doors and terraces above that ended up being the cause for the small tunnels. This happened for a while as they must have been passing through a residential area of the city. They noticed the city was not as bustling as it was the night prior when they first stepped foot into Smithwick but quickly concluded it was likely due in part to the weather.

The group passed through another small passageway and found themselves in an opening with what was clearly the library on the other side. Just like the one in Cap, it had grandeur to it. It too stuck out from the rest of the city and looked much older than the architecture around. However instead of clay, like the library in Cap, it was crafted with stone and wood – much like the city that surrounded it. There were pillars outside the entrance that held up a small overhang. The doors were a sturdy red wood with delicate carvings. They entered and saw the interior was quite similar to the library in Cap. It had three levels to it with the center being clear all the way to the roof. There was slanted glass in the ceiling that would likely bring in a lot of natural light if the sun had decided to show its glow that day. The rain falling on the windows ran down out of sight to the rest of the rooftop. The library was much more populated than the one in Cap and Mobians could be seen traversing the tall bookshelves on the balconies of the second and third levels.

The gang continued to walk through to a desk in the back where a small koala was flipping though an old book. She gingerly adjusted the glasses that rest on the end of her nose as she turned another page.

“Excuse me ma’am?” Sonic asked as they approached her.

“Yes?” She looked up to them with tired aged eyes.

“We are looking for some books on some ancient texts. My uncle said he sent some correspondence to this library that may aid in what we are looking for.”

“Hmm.” She looked away and grabbed a small notebook. “Ah, yes. The head librarian had passed that we might be expecting a group that meets your description.” She closed the small notebook and left a bookmark in the other book she was reading then stood up. “Come with me.”

She took them to a small study in the back part of the library. It was a cozy room with a few comfortable chairs and a single desk. “Wait here while I bring the requested material for you. We set it aside a few days ago.”

She briefly left and Amy noted how accommodating she was compared to Eiméar. Rouge joked that it was likely because they did not personally know Uncle Chuck like she did. Though they don’t know the history behind the elder hedgehog and the bandicoot, they had gathered that it must have been an exciting one.

The koala came back with a small cart and a few old books stacked on it. Tails thanked her for her hospitality but she insisted that that was the accommodation was standard in the great libraries as their intent was purely for scholastic advancement. She left with a declaration that they were free to ask for any assistance if they needed it.

To no one’s surprise, Tails was the first one to dive into the books. Knuckles was a little less interested and decided to claim one of the chairs as there were not enough for all of them in the small study.

They toiled over the books but did not find much. After some initial readings, they all ended up indulging in their own interests as Tails read up on understanding ancient Ogham. Amy looked up ancient runes however the most progress she made was relating to what some of the symbols on her tarot cards meant. Most notably a quarter of the cards seemed to relate to water and another quarter related to fire, based on the cen and laguz runes they had found. The other half of her cards must then have related to earth and air and she was determined to figure out which were linked to what. Knuckles continued to take an easy nap, Sonic became more preoccupied with a chain bookmark in a random book he was ‘studying’ and Rouge took numerous breaks between any short reading she was doing to ogle at the embedded gems and embroidery in the ancient texts.

The group left the library mentally exhausted. Up until now, they had Uncle Chuck to point them in the right direction. He was the one that would toil for weeks over possible interpretation of these symbols that have lost their meaning many centuries ago. Sonic and his troop didn’t know where to begin, let alone any hint of where to possibly find another crown.

The rain had stopped at this point and the sun was beginning to show its face behind some of the clouds. Knuckles and Rouge wanted to go out and get some food and Tails wanted to go back to the inn to look over some of the notes he took so he could try and learn more about Ogham to make future studies quicker. It would seem not all of them were mentally exhausted.

Sonic at this point had beckoned to Amy that this would be a good time to get out of the city and explore more of the Green Hills. She agreed to join him and the group took their separate ways for the rest of the day.

Outside the city, Sonic walked with Amy along a main road that headed north. The road was lined with wildflowers and had divots for both carriage and vehicles; although the latter was actually quite a rarity in the world. The Reds at Rockbase had a few desert buggies and Tails had the Syphon but even those were not a common sight in the general sense. Tails happened to come across the Syphon, abandoned in a canyon in the Jagged Browns, and was only able to get it running through his acquired knowledge of mechanics. Most of which he obtained simply by studying the Syphon’s systems. When it was brought back to South Island, with help from Sonic’s legs and Knuckles’ strength, most residents didn’t even know what it was.

But Smithwick must be large enough to see high levels of trade requiring the rare and expensive modes of transportation. Much of the world still utilized more traditional modes of travel which Sonic was quite content with, based on his natural ability.

He and Amy continued walking for a while. Amy could tell Sonic was getting a little antsy at the pace and rolled her eyes before offering to Sonic that he could carry her. He gladly obliged and swooped her up then quickly sped off into the distance.

They came across a rocky area off the main road. There were some rocks protruding from the soft earth that led down toward the bottom of a hill. There, a small creek seemed to have cut through the earth from runoff of the rain that ends up occurring in the area. The creek snaked around the base of the small hills and led off into the distance. Thousands of years of runoff must have eroded the land to expose the rocky terrain beneath as natural stone surrounded the creek for as far as the eye could see.

Something else peculiar about the stony terrain must have been revealed through the sands of time as they also seemed to create arches and tunnels; some only a couple feet in height, others tens of feet.

“Oh yeah, now this seems like a fun playground!” Sonic exclaimed.

With a huff and a grin, Amy conceded. “Go have your fun I guess… as if the past few days of walking weren’t enough for you.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he put her down and bolted off.

Amy watched in admiration at his wild spirit as he ran toward the structures that seemed so alien to what they were used to in the sandy Greater Area. She sat down and pulled out her tarot cards to try and further understand their use, all the while letting the soft breeze caress her fur while the rustling of the tall grass from that same wind brought a calming ambience to her ears.

Sonic, in the meantime ran along that creek – small in nature but mighty in the fact that it carved through the land in a timeline that surpassed thousands of generations of fauna that was found in the fields.

He followed a path of smooth stone that led to a slight drop off and leaped into the air. He curled into a ball and landed at the base of an arch, unraveled himself and sprinted so fast he ran from base to base, upside down and all, as if it were just another path and continued on. That first loop was only the beginning in his wild timeless time trail.

Amy sat there with her knees bent and off to one side and she shuffled the deck of cards. There she laid out a number of them and flipped them over one by one. Wheel of Fortune, Ace of Cups, Ace of Swords and some others… She still was unsure how to utilize them but felt a deep connection with them and the unknown guidance she was sure they were trying to lend her.

Meanwhile Sonic’s silhouette could be seen nearly a mile away already, snaking around the bases of multiple hills. He leapt off a rock into a makeshift foot track that only he could manage. He ran along the creek that seemed to have gotten larger the further from the road it went. He saw another nearly alien rock formed loop and ran its course.

The terrain around was already like nothing he had ever seen, or even imagined possible. But then again, up until now, he only knew one small corner of the vast world. He continued further where the hills became larger and the rocks protruded higher from the ground. Topping a steep hill, nearly like a small mountain, he came across another astounding sight.

There, the rocks created a fantastical formation resembling pathways of abstract spires. Steep hills, nearly small mountains, created a bowl with pillars of rocks protruding from the sides as if each one fell from the heavens and imbedded themselves in the earth below.

Sonic did not waste time with exploring the area and jumped right from the ledge he was peering into the basin from and bounced from spire to spire, leaping between them as if his feet transformed into springs. He finally had landed next to one of the rock structures and ran long it enjoying the sights of springs that wept from the rock faces and large condors that soared up above. He zigzagged up a steep mountainside and found another depression beyond the bowl where more large boulders were piled high as if the children of giants were making rock piles. He found a natural reservoir created by the dam of some creatures with a waterfall that led to a cave-like tunnel. Sprinting through the rock tunnel, leaving behind nothing but a flash of blue and his footprints, he came across a lone peak in a flatter piece of terrain nearby. Zooming around it until he reached the top, he finally came to rest. Gazing off in the distance to take in the sights, he now noticed the basin he previously traversed, a couple miles away now, looked almost like a cage from this vantage with large gaps between the rock spires that lined the edge.

He zoomed back and circled the outside of that ‘cage.’ To his surprise, he came across a ledge side where the ground had loosened and fell to the land below. He screeched to a stop and looked down to see a cave. With his curiosity, he rushed down to take a look.

The space did not allow for such swift movements as he preferred but he continued to explore as the light from the sky above would shine through the crevices that were overhead. He moved around a bit more until something caught his eye. He squinted trying to see what it was; something etched in the rock face? It was hard to tell with the limited light. Was it getting darker? He then heard a faint roll of thunder in the distance.

He left the cave and sprinted out to a high point and saw dark clouds rolling in miles away. He immediately bolted off back toward Amy, still running through the ‘playground’ as he referred to it earlier - swiveling between rocks and up and down hills, through loops and leaping over ledges.

He got back with Amy and saw her standing there waiting for him. She too must have noticed the incoming rain. “Have your fill?” She asked.

“Was pretty cool if you ask me. There’s a cool place over there like nothing I’ve seen Ames! And of course really good for stretching the legs.” Sonic responded which earned a chuckle out of Amy. “But never mind that now. Think we can beat the rain?” He smirked.

“I think YOU can.”

“Let’s see!” He swooped her back up and sprinted off back toward Smithwick.

They made it back to the city where Sonic figured Amy could now do her own walking. “Got some time to spare as well!”

“It seems we do. Though I’m not quite sure I want to stay cooped up just yet. Oh it was just wonderful being out there, feeling the breeze and just admiring the view.” Amy added. As they walked toward their inn, they passed by a little café. Amy fiddled with a token or two in her pocket. “Care for some tea before we head back?”

“I won’t complain.”

They stopped at a small table and a waitress came up shortly after. “None of y’all are whites are ye?” The statement took Sonic and Amy a bit by surprise. They once again were reminded that South Island seemed to be a much more hospitable place than the rest of what they’ve seen of Mobius. The inquiry was probably sharper to them than most people as others at the café didn’t seem to even acknowledge the question. They shook their heads with slight concern and the waitress immediately changed demeanors. “Alright, just had to ask. What can I serve fer you two?” She asked quite cheerily.

Still feeling a little awkward, they simply made their request for some herbal tea and carried on. Sonic began to tell Amy about his ‘light jog’ and how the land seemed to transform into a fantastical landscape further upstream of the creek they departed from. He vividly described the sights and all the rock like pinnacles that were scattered around.

It wasn’t long until the waitress came back with their tea. “He ya go you two. Hope everything is to your liking.”

“Thank you.” They said in unison.

“I apologize fer asking, but I saw you two coming in from the east gate there. Are you travelers?”

“Well, yes, but we actually arrived yesterday. We’re not from this area so we were just enjoying the Green Hills a little bit.” Amy responded a bit bashful.

“You two didn’t happen to see any others comin’ down the road did you? Wearing garments resembling…purples did ya?” Her tone wasn’t spiteful, nor was it concerning; it was more inquisitive if anything.

“Purples?” Sonic asked.

“Now, I know what yer thinking. There ain’t none no more. But rumor has it two Mobians been seen wanderin’ between cities that people are claiming are purples! Heard another patron say he heard they were headed toward Smithwick from over the mountains. T’was just curious is all – sorry for the bother.” She grabbed the tea pot she walked out with and headed back indoors.

“Purples?” Amy said curiously.

“Yeah, weird.”

They continued with their own conversations and Amy was discussing her tarot cards and how she felt a connection to them but still does not quite understand them. Sonic joked about how they’ll likely find Tails asleep on his notes when they get back to the inn.

They lost track of time and started to feel the light pellets of rain hitting their fur. With apt timing, they were nearly finished with their tea and decided to make their leave before the rain picked up too much and headed back to the inn to join the others.