#People with barrel chests and stocky legs

[slyandthefamilybook]

idk who needs to hear this but holding up the hourglass figure as an ideal for men instead of women is not progress

[anonymouspuzzler]

To the trio, how do you like to spend your days off??

some variation on this happens, like, three times a week Minimum when they're not on or preparing for a heist.

[Full transcript / image IDs under cut!]

A black-and-white, digital ink comic featuring Puzz's OCs, Buck, Minnie and Davey. Buck is a middle-aged white man with a barrel-chested build, balding hairstyle with a tuft of hair on top, large nose, heavy brow, and large shaggy mustache; he is wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cuffed, dark pants, and heeled boots. Minnie is a 13-year-old white girl with a stocky build, freckles, buck teeth, and hair with short bangs and large braided pigtails; she is wearing a t-shirt with a label tag on the bottom hem, a pleated skirt, shin-length socks and mary jane type shoes. Davye is a middle-aged black man with a lanky build, amputated right arm, large ears, large eyes with long eyelashes, diagonal scar across his face, large eyebrows, and lnong curly hair; he is wearing a baggy tank top and sports shorts. Each individual image is one panel of the comic.

Image/panel 1 shows shows Buck walking to the left, pushing a sponge-type mop with both hands and looking up towards the viewer with a casual expression. He is saying, "I mostly try and catch up on chores."

Image/panel 2 shows Buck having stopped in front of a messy kitchen counter, with an open bag of bread and two jars on it. One jar is tipped on its side and the other is open with a knife sticking out of it. Minnie casually walks off to the right, bringing a sandwich up to her mouth with both hands and ignoring Buck. He is looking after her with an irritated look, cartoon steam clouds coming off of him, one hand clenched into a fist at his side and the other still holding the mop. He says, tersely, "...which would be easier if some people would clean up".

Image/panel 3 shows Minnie continuing to walk off to the right, taking a bite out of the sandwich and looking in the general direction of the viewer with a casual, aloof expression. She says, "I do online classes sometimes when we're not doing heists, but I guess that's not a "day off". Other than that I mostly watch TV or play video games."

Image/panel 4 shows Minnie, back to the viewer, having arrived at the sofa. Davey is sitting in a slouched position on the sofa, one leg dangling off the edge, elbow propped up on the sofa and head leaning heavily into his hand. He is visibly asleep, drooling and snoring. A TV remote is balanced on top of his knee. Minnie glowers at him and says, "...or I would if some people weren't hogging the TV."

Image/panel 5 shows Minnie, glaring, climbing up onto the sofa, holding her sandwich in one hand and shoving Davey's shoulder with the other. Davey visibly startles awake, shouting, "I'M UP. Totally awake."

Image/panel 6 shows Minnie settling down on the sofa next to Davey, taking another bite out of her sandwich and saying, "Uh huh. So what are you watching while you're 'totally awake'?" Davey, leaning back and stretching out his arm, tongue sticking out, responds, "Mmph. Catchin' up on telenovelas." Minnie replies, "Mhm. So what's happening?" Davey responds, "Affairs, mostly."

Image/panel 7 shows another angle of the room, to Davey's left, as Buck leans in past the doorway and says, with an incredulous expression, "Don't tell me it's Julien again?" Davey, leaning forward and shouting with a similarly incredulous, outraged look, replies, "Yes!! With his own wife's new assistant this time!!! Can you believe it?!" Minnie leans forward to stare at Davey with one eyebrow raised.

Image/panel 8 flips the angle to over Buck's shoulder, showing Minnie and Davey looking at him from the sofa. Minnie, grinning smugly, says, "I thought you were all about cleaning today?" Buck glares back, looking slightly embarrassed, and replies, "I am cleaning." Davey leans slightly forward, propping his arm up on his knee, and says with a disarming grin, "Buck, you can come take a break." Buck replies, "No, no. I still got the dishes to deal with."

Image/panel 9 shows Buck standing beside the couch with his arms folded, clearly watching TV, with an arrow pointing to him reading, "Proceeded to stand there for 43 consecutive minutes." Minnie and Davey continue to sit on the couch, Minnie taking another bite of her sandwich, Davey leaning against the arm of the sofa and gasping at something on TV.

[thepilgrimbetweenworlds]

Antiverse Revised Character Profile: Quad Smack

Almost there... just one more.

Quad Smack

Donor Name: Qilla

Age: 39

Species: Tetramand

Birthplace: New Khoros, Orbit of Chimera (Antiverse)

Hair: Black, balding

Eyes: Red

Height: 8ft 3in

Weight: 487 lbs.

Powers/Abilities:

-Superior Strength: Show them who’s boss. Quad Smack’s strength is second to none. He can easily lift objects many times his size, and can destroy his opponents with just a few swings. However, his immense size makes him slow and clumsy, and he expends a lot of energy whenever he fights.

-Fantastic Durability: You’re hard, so make them know it. Quad Smack’s incredibly thick skin and muscles can absorb extreme amounts punishment, and he is easily one of Kevin’s most durable aliens. His ankles and joints are weak to damage if struck in the right place however, and his hide is weak to acid.

-Multiple Arms: More hands, more fools to put down. Like all Tetramands, Quad Smack carries a secondary set of arms which increases his versatility and offensive capabilities.

-Steroid Injector: To survive, you need every edge you can get. Grafted into Quad Smack’s spine and arms is an experimental steroid injector. The chemical cocktail it contains increases his lacking speed and agility, but sends him into a bloodthirsty rage. The steroid also has a chance to inflict detrimental side effects.

Physical Description: Qilla is less a mountain and more a hill, in that his powerful physique is hidden by a doughy exterior. His head is oblong shaped, ending in a very sharp and thick jaw. Of his four eyes, one has been scratched out. His stomach is noticeably round, and his thick chest barrels outwards to create a very imposing figure. His heavy shoulders slope down to his massive twin set of arms, with sharpened spines protruding from each elbow. Qilla’s legs are stocky and powered by a thick rear, and powerful feet give him a powerful, stomping stride when he moves. He wears a black tank top/tunic combo and a pair of black leggings. His shoulders and joints are protected by black metal armor. His skin is a faded, dark purple which lightens on his chest. The Antitrix symbol is located on his right pectoral.

Backstory: Life isn’t fair. Not for the Tetramands, not for anyone in the Antiverse. To Qilla, the only way to get through life is to have a crueler reputation than your neighbors. Hundreds of years ago, the Tetramands were once a race of proud warriors much like in the Prime Universe, revered as symbols of strength and primal might. One day however, Khoros was decimated by a series of asteroid strikes, killing millions. The survivor’s became refugees, settling on a barren moon orbiting Chimera. Much of their culture was lost in the interim and with it many role models for developing Tetramands, thus the more cunning and cruel warriors took on the mantle of leadership.

The once proud Tetramands regressed into savage thugs for hire. Qilla was born to a people that now sought strength through fear and reputation. His clan became infamous for selling weapons and narcotics across the galaxy, and as he grew Qilla was brought up to view reputation as the most important goal in life… and that no one should ever get in the way. When his father died in a war with a rival clan, Qilla set out to build his reputation. He garnered infamy as a hired thug and spent years working for warlords and other criminal organizations. The bigger job, the greater the glory. His reputation became so great, he was secretly asked to work for a warlord who promised all he could ever dream of. Qilla didn’t care who this punk was, as long as more people remembered his name…

Personality: Qilla is a vacuous and fame obsessed brute. His short fuse and natural inclination to savagery create a scary individual to face, not helped by his skill at applying physical violence. Qilla’s lust for recognition and glory are rooted in an impulsive need to create a legacy for himself. He’s got a reputation to uphold, and he’ll crush anyone who dares challenge it.

Influence on Kevin: Kevin’s pride skyrockets as Quad Smack, while his impulse-control plummets.

Trivia:

-Alongside Whiplash and Undertow, Quad Smack is one of Kevin’s least favorite aliens.

-Has a persistent odor of narcotics around him.

[sordideuphemism]

How to Finish a Fight

In a prior post, I explained some basics on how to avoid getting in a fight. The other half of that is what to do when the fight can't be avoided. I'll try to cover that here. Apologies for those of you who read the Twitter post in the same vein, a lot of this will repeat what you've seen.

When the fight begins, you need a goal. Between yourself and your goal will be your opponent. And then there's your ability. Let's address the goal first.

It could be that you just want to get away. Unless you're being restrained or are someplace you can't leave without assistance? HIT. THE. BRICKS. The hypermasculine bullshit about 'running away' being 'cowardice' is just that - hypermasculine bullshit. Run, as far and as fast as your legs can carry you. Sure, do what you can to slow your opponent, but until you are somewhere safe getting your ass out of there is the only focus you should have.

It could be that you need something your opponent has. An irreplaceable item, to be clear, and one they're likely to destroy. I'm talking an epipen when someone actively needs it level of irreplaceable. Narcan for someone ODing. Maybe even a meal, if it's the only one you'll have for a while. (Anything less? That's not worth the fight. Work outside of violence to achieve its return.)

Maybe you have to fight now to prevent a fight later. (While this is rarely the case it does happen.)

Maybe the opponent doesn't want anything more than to harm you.

Maybe you have to fight because someone else can't fight for themselves, and they are facing harm that can't be negotiated.

If that's the case, you clearly need to stay put until the problem is resolved.

Before that first swing comes, you need to internalize a few things. Make them part of your awareness:

First, a fight typically ends one of two ways: very quickly with one or both people walking away, or on the ground as the two of you try to disassemble each other.

Second, there are no rules in a fight. None. You need to be willing and able to use any advantage you have, whether it be sharp teeth, a hand covered in rings, piles of sand, or the strap of your handbag.

Finally, as a fight should only be engaged due to self-defense or the defense of another (see above) that makes every fight, until it ends, a matter of life and death. You may be adverse to killing your opponent, or causing them permanent injury. But do they feel the same? Don't bet on it.

So you're in a fight. Your goal is now to end the fight, as quickly and decisively as possible. In order to do that, you need to engage with your opponent. Let's talk about them.

Unless you've been attacked unprovoked, you likely have seen your opponent, and gotten a sense for their size. Size is (usually) a good indicator for how someone will move, and where you can focus your efforts. This is likely to be the last chance you'll have to think before the fight begins in earnest.

Are they big and stocky, barrel chested, with strong hands? See if you can outrange them, ducking in and out to make your mark. Make them jog a little. Avoid their grip. Larger people typically have less overall energy in the cardio range, but have great stores of anaerobic strength. If they look like they've skipped leg day? Fold that knee backwards until you hear it crunch. They'll never need to worry about exercising it again.

What about the inverse, where they're lithe and fluid? You'll need to outlast them by conserving energy and taking shots where you can. Blocking and grappling are your best bet. If you manage to grab a piece of them, break that piece, whether it be a finger or wrist or anything. If you get lucky and can grab some hair? That's your handle, now. Don't rip it out, but tighten your grip and try to keep them facing away from you. Once in position, take them down with strikes to sensitive areas.

In either case? Keep your stances grounded but mobile. Don't rest too much on one leg or the other. Throw sand in the eyes, or spit, or blood. Punch for the throat, or the side of the neck, or sensitive muscles/organs in the chest/back. Don't punch for the face unless you know what you're doing - humans have bony, thick skulls.

You want them to stop fighting, so make them regret choosing to.

You might get lucky. They might give up, or be rendered unable to fight. But if not, you're going to end up on the ground.

If falling, try to land away from your opponent and brace for the impact, then be ready to move. If following an opponent's fall, see if you can steer them into an obstacle - bouncing their head off a parking curb is a great way to convince them you're not worth it.

Once you're on the ground, unless you're a trained grappler, you're going to want to pull out all the stops. Act as if you're not going to get up again, because there's a good chance you're correct. Gouge. Bite. Scratch. Break joints, tear muscle, pull anything that can be gripped.

Hopefully, you'll be able to stand up again when it's all over.

And when it is all over - when your opponent has either surrendered or been neutralized - STOP.

If you keep going, you've just crossed the line from self defense to assailant, and nothing you've done to that point will matter to the cops, or the judge, or to anyone.

That leaves us with your ability. I'm afraid there's not much I can say here. Physical combat cannot easily be trained with a few paragraphs. But I can point you towards some tools.

First, figure out your physical dynamic, and where it's lacking. Are you the lumbering hulk, or the speedster, or somewhere in between? You don't need to be physical perfection, but knowing your own strengths will help you judge how a fight should be pursued. Have you been training your cardio and your strength? Both are necessary.

Second, work on your balance. You can do this yourself with some YT videos and time, or dance, or some fitness video games. Or you can seek some entry-level training in gymnastics, yoga, boxing, martial arts, or any number of sports (I like field hockey and soccer for this).

Third, learn how to strike and how to block. You can do this with training through a boxing program, or a martial arts studio. Your trainer will drum this into you, but a strike is an opening. Make sure once you've attempted to strike that you bring your limb - arm, leg, elbow, whatever - back and away from your opponent, otherwise you've just given them a way to yank you around and cause you all sorts of interesting new pain.

And fourth, learn how people act and react. This is something that will come with time, but a few things I can mention.

Defensively, if they're resting on one leg more than the other? They likely favor that side for strikes. Most right-handed people will rest on their right leg, and favor their right arm for punching. If they drop a shoulder when moving in? Expect a hit from that side. Watch where their eyes go, see if you can catch them arching a foot or clenching a hand. Those are called telegraphing and over time you'll understand them instinctively.

Offensively? Your opponent is trying to read you too. Everything I just said should be used to confuse your opponent. Do you have good peripheral vision? Great. Unfocus your eyes and stare at a point above their head, or at their neck. If not, simply refusing to make eye contact will unsettle them. Want to punch them in a high location? Feint low. Telegraph all your intention for that belly shot and then introduce your knuckles to the back of their throat.

That's what I've got, for now. Fighting is a grim, ugly way of engaging with the world, and for good reason. It should never be the first or fifth choice, but when the time comes it should be nasty, brutish, and swift.

I hope you never need anything on this page.

Take care of yourselves, kids.

Love, Dad.

[sevlgi]

believe

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: jisoo x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: guardian angel!jisoo, near death instances, unlucky reader. [22/33].

warnings: none

synopsis: You’ve never believed in guardian angels, but that just might change when you’re saved from certain death 3 times in one week.

a/n: idk if I’ve ever seen anyone do a similar au... tell me if you have! also i’m actually hella proud of this one lmao

word count: 1.8k

Do guardian angels exist?

Well, that’s a subjective question, and there really isn’t a yes or no answer... But if yours does, they’re doing the shittiest job of the century.

The amount of times you’ve been hurt in the past, both physically and emotionally, is stupidly high. You’ve always had an aptitude for getting injured, stories of broken bones and gashes making up basically half of your entire life. Your friends and family pride themselves on having a fully loaded arsenal of embarrassing tales, practically making it a rite of passage to visit the hospital with you. And don’t even mention the heartbreaks- those just seem to follow you wherever you go.

When you move to a different city for what must be the 10th time, you vow that it’s going to be different, no matter how obvious it is that it won’t. You vow that there aren’t going to be any incidents that land you in the hospital, nor any relationships that just end in chaos.

Suffice to say, all of that goes haywire on your first day in town.

Without a car to drive you to work or any friends to hitchhike off of, you take the subway, line #224 to Solace Building. There just so happens to be a new girl group song you’re obsessed with, blasting on the highest possible volume in your earbuds, when you’re shoved from the back right into the subway tracks. “Fu-”

Time slows down as you start to fall, the dusty railways coming too close to your face for comfort before a warm hand wraps around yours, the socket of your arm straining to carry your entire weight as you’re jerked back sharply.

You collide with a warm body, soft curves lessening the impact and delicate, impossibly strong hands steadying you on either side of your waist. By all logic, you should’ve knocked your savior over, should be sprawled on the ground right now with dirty palms and a heat-flushed face. “Are you okay?”

When you step back sharply, you’re met with the sight of the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life. Her heart-shaped smile and delicate features are framed with cascading brown hair, and she has ethereally flawless porcelain skin. She’s the kind of beautiful that makes the plainest outfit look designer, that could make you believe sea glass to be pure diamond. “Uh. Y-yeah. I’m good.”

“I’m glad,” she chuckles, smiling even wider and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Maybe she doesn’t realize the effect she has on you, humming as she dusts something invisible off your bag. “You should be more careful, Y/N, wouldn’t want someone as pretty as you being killed by a train.”

If it was anyone else, the words would sound creepy, especially with the added factor of the girl knowing your name. “How-- how do you know who I am?”

She juts her lips at the card hanging off your bag, your name written in big, bold letters. “Nametag. Y/N Y/L/N, employee in Solace Building?”

To hide the heat in your cheeks, you look to the floor and stutter out, “Well. Since you know my name, uh, isn’t it fitting that I know yours?”

It’s not nearly as smooth as you’d like it to be-- usually, the natural flirt in you would’ve made an appearance-- but the petite brunette extends a hand, tipped with gentle pink nails. “Jisoo. Kim Jisoo, if that’s helpful at all.”

Your next words are interrupted by your train arriving; when Jisoo doesn’t follow you on, you turn to look at her with your eyebrow quirked. “Are you...?”

“Not my train,” she smiles, shaking her head, even though it’s the only one arriving for hours where she stands. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Stay out of trouble!”

It’s an odd way to end a first meeting, but you don’t think much of it as you grab the nearest seat and pull out your phone to search her up. K-I-M J-I-S-O-O, you type, eyes scanning the screen fervently as the train starts.

Plenty of people show up-- after all, Kim Jisoo is not a rare name-- but none of the dozens of profiles you click through are the beautiful girl who saved your life. It’s too late when you look back out the window towards the station, the only thing you see becoming brick wall.

The next time you almost die, you’re just walking to the coffee shop across from your apartment.

The activity should be safe, considering that not many people in the area own cars. At first, you think you are safe, crossing the silent street with no problem and receiving your usual order just fine; you’re on your way back to your lonely little apartment when you hear the screeching of car tires on the road.

“Watch out!” someone screams, but you’re frozen in the middle of the crosswalk. You forget how there wasn’t a single car in the street when you were crossing as you stare at the grill coming close. The car doesn’t stop or slow down, and you scrunch your eyes shut with your arms raised up, just waiting for the impact.

It never comes. When you hesitantly open your eyes again, you find a familiar figure standing in front of you, the force of her hand having knocked your coffee onto your blouse. The car bumper is pressing into her bare leg, which is miraculously clean of a scratch or bruise, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she turns to grin at you.

“Sorry, I ruined your coffee,” Jisoo frowns, her hand coming up to almost touch the steaming stain on your chest. You stare at her mutely, following obediently when she grabs your wrist and pulls you back to the coffee shop. “Can I buy you another one?” she offers, plucking a napkin off a street-side table.

“Kim Jisoo?” you say disbelievingly, not even feeling it as she dabs the coffee away. “You again?”

“Me again,” she confirms, pulling some more napkins out of her purse with a smile on her face. “I hope you’re not disappointed; after all, I just saved you from dying. Again.”

“No, that’s not...” Taking a deep breath, you smile too, wrapping your fingers around her hand to gently brush her off. “It’s okay. I’m glad to see you, actually-- I searched for your profile to thank you, but I couldn’t find anything.”

Jisoo shrugs, opening the door to the coffee shop for you. “Oh, I’m not really on social media. If you wanted my number, you could’ve just asked.”

You laugh lightly, tossing the crushed cup in your hand into the trash. Of course it’s odd that she isn’t on social media in the 21st century-- with her face, you’d expect Jisoo to be a major influencer. “Then I’ll ask for it. Later.”

“Of course. Order what you want, I owe you one after all that,” she offers, plucking a couple loose 20 dollar bills out of her purse.

Once again, you’re faced with another weird habit of hers, but you order anyway and thank her after she pays. Before you can say anything else, though, she gets a text and frowns at her phone. “Oh, sorry, I have to go. Catch you next time?”

“Sure,” you answer, forgetting to tell her that she still forgot to give you her number. You stand dumbly on the sidewalk and watch her go, taking a deep breath and looking both ways before you set off towards your apartment for the second time that day.

Maybe next time?

The third, and hopefully last time, is the absolute weirdest of all. 

You seem to have a thing for being knocked into ditches-- this time, a group of teenagers barrels into you while you’re walking by the side of the only river in your entire city. You open your mouth to tell them off, but before you can, an especially hard shove from an stocky little boy pushes you right into the water.

Luckily, the fall isn’t high, so you don’t hit the water with much force, but the boats cruising along and the recently terrible weather stir the current strong enough to pull you right under. In the icy water, you feel your fingers let go of the phone in your hand, your lungs slowly being crushed by the pressure of your surroundings.

It’s hard to tell how much time passes while you’re in the water. From what your doctors have told you, trauma is difficult to remember clearly for a while, but you vaguely feel hands linking in front of your chest and forearms bracing under your armpits to drag you out of the water.

The heat of the summer sun warms the stone under your back and you can hear whispers sounding around you as you flop onto the floor. Hands push hard on your breastbone, once, twice-

After maybe 30 pushes, fingers pinch your nose, and soft lips meet yours. It feels more like a kiss than CPR, no air really being blown into your mouth, but nonetheless, you feel water leaving your lungs, and you open your eyes in shock, coughing out loud.

To your (somewhat) shock, it’s the same girl hovering over you. Jisoo’s skirt is wet at her knees where she kneels beside you, her hands still hovering over your chest. She must’ve been the one giving CPR, then. Sitting up, you hack violently until most of the water’s out of your lungs, the other girl waving away all of the spectators. “How’re you feeling?” she asks, once you’re alone on the sidewalk.

Your hands move faster than your brain, pulling her forward by the nape of her neck until you kiss again, something about her tasting familiar in a way you can’t quite place. “Who are you?” you breathe once you’ve pulled away, searching her warm eyes for an answer.

She smiles again, handing you your miraculously dry phone instead of answering. It should be waterlogged and dead, but nothing seems to make sense when concered with Kim Jisoo. “How about you take me for dinner or something before asking the serious questions? Soup should be good to warm you up.”

Hand clasping in hers, you’re pulled to your feet with strength that doesn’t match her petite stature. You barely remember that you look like an almost-drowned rat, your lips purple with cold and your hair stringy with icy water. “Sure. Soup. But you need to answer me first.”

She exhales, hitching her bag higher up on her arm. “I’d say I’m your guardian angel, but you wouldn’t believe that, would you?”

“I wouldn’t,” you answer, eyes narrowing as you follow her down the street. “But maybe you can convince me. Over soup.”

[pkg4mumtown]

Welcome to Hawkins PD (Ch. 1)

AN: Finally got far enough along in writing to post the beginning. First Hopper fic so...yea...let me know what you think so far.

Warnings: smoking, cursing, y’know normal Hopper stuff, Female Reader

Summary: You’re a new officer being assigned to Hawkins without being warned of the attractive but grumpy Chief.

Title: The New Kid

Chapter 1 of ?

Chief Hopper slammed the door of his Blazer shut, squinting at brightness of the sun he had underestimated. He set his wide-brimmed hat firmly on his head and slid aviators on his face, all while never dropping the lit cigarette hanging from his lips. He strode over to a white-haired, stocky man who stood just inside the open gates of the Indiana Law Enforcement Academy. The older man gave Hopper a pointed look as he strode through the parking lot.

“C'mon, Hop, no squares on academy grounds,” the man sighed. He wore a tan uniform and wide brimmed drill instructor cover on his head, like the other instructors at the academy

Hopper grimaced around the cigarette, pulling it from his lips and flicking it off to the side, “I’ll pick it up when I leave, Cap.”

The white-haired man shook his head and laughed softly, leading Hopper inside the confines of the academy, “Haven’t been a Captain in years.”

“Bridge, you’ll always be ‘Captain’ to me,” Hopper slapped Bridge on the back. “What do they have you doin’ now?”

“Basic Training Commander,” Bridge winked and tipped his hat.

“Look at you,” Hopper chuckled and shoved Bridge’s shoulder.

They walked in silence for a minute before Hopper finally spoke up, “So, why’d you call me here? I’m betting it wasn’t just to catch up,” Hopper looked over at the shorter man, who sighed.

“Hop…” Bridge started, “…the director, deputy director, and myself have decided to attach another officer to your station.”

Hopper stopped walking all together, giving the man an incredulous glare, “Excuse me?”

“Look, after the lab and Byers fiasco, you’re lucky we're not adding ten times that. It was a shit show and the media were hounding us as to why Hawkins has only six officers, three of which never seem to leave the office,” Bridge stressed. “We had the Roane County Sheriff’s patrolling the town for you and your boys, just to keep the citizens at bay, while you were doing fuck knows what, Jim.”

“While I was fixing the problem,” Hopper growled. “You have no idea what was going on!”

“Why don’t you enlighten me?” Bridge challenged with raised eyebrows.

Hopper ignored him and kept walking with no direction, “And anyway, the lab is empty now.”

“The ratio is still six to thirty thousand people, man. Detroit's ratio is one to four hundred.”

“Detroit is also the ‘Murder Capital’, is it not?” Hopper huffed. “Why’d you call me here, then? You could have told me this over the phone, so I could at least throw something after I hung up on you!” he raised his voice slightly, itching to pull out another cigarette.

Bridge smirked and tilted his head up, indicating Jim to follow him. The sound of gunfire grew louder with every step, telling Hopper that they were heading to the range.

“Thought you might want to check out who we’re assigning to you,” Bridge said as they finally came to a stop.

Below them stood about twenty recruits in unmarked tan uniforms with black ties, which would change according to their departments after they graduated.

“That one,” Bridge pointed to the recruit on the far left, a moderately tall woman with her hair pulled back into a bun. With her strong shoulders and stern expression, she definitely looked like she could hold her own amongst the males in the class.

Hopper tilted his glasses down and scrunched his nose at the brightness, “The girl?”

“Jesus Christ, Hop,” Bridge sighed.

“It was a question!” Hopper retorted back, huffing at Bridge's insinuation.

Bridge rolled his eyes and nodded, “Yea, the female recruit.”

At that moment, one of the drill instructors shouted a nearly indistinct command. It was unintelligible to Hopper’s ears, yet all the recruits responded immediately by clutching their right hands to their chests. Hopper watched, intrigued, as they fired the last of their rounds single handedly. His gaze swept over all the recruits and their targets before focusing back on the female as she shoved the barrel of the revolver between her duty belt and her trousers. Hopper’s expression turned impressed as he peeked over his sunglasses while she flicked open a pouch, retrieved a speed loader, and reloaded before shooting again.

“When did you guys start grading one-armed reloads?” Hopper wondered.

“When we finally got speed loaders that weren’t shit,” Bridge chuckled and shrugged. “Better to make it mandatory so they don’t fumble later.”

Hopper stuck around for a while, to make his trip worthwhile. He watched from a shaded area with Bridge as they started a defensive tactics lesson, always keeping his eye on the girl. He eyed her and a male recruit curiously as they circled one another in a scrimmage. The male was aggressive and lunging in order for her to practice a specific maneuver, which she did fairly well after deflecting some of his hits. The ferocity in which she fought back made Hopper curse under his breath in admiration.

“So, what d'ya think, Hop?”

“Why her?”

Bridge groaned, “Hop…I thought you were better than this!”

“Better than what? I’m just asking why her specifically!” he raised his voice in irritation.

“Because she’s a woman?” Bridge retorted and raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, man, because she actually has skill. Like the Sheriff’s or Trooper material, not for some boring town like Hawkins. I’m just…” Hopper sighed, “I don’t know, it feels like a waste of resources plus she'd be bored off her ass.”

“We don’t decide their departments, Hop, she chose local police over Staties,” Bridge pursed his lips and chuckled to himself.

“What?”

“Maybe she’ll kick your boys into gear. Lord knows, your station could use some energy.”

Hopper just rolled his eyes as the dig.

“Her station request, though, was anywhere but her hometown and we were already planning to add another officer to your station anyway,” Bridge revealed.

“Hmm,” Hopper grunted, “bad family relationship?

“Probably a question for her, not me.”

-

I shrugged on my heavy, oversized, black duffle bag and picked up my equally oversized briefcase before leaving my sleeping quarters for the last time. With my free hand, I pushed my aviators, a graduation gift from my best friend, up the bridge of my nose. Said friend had already departed the premises after the graduation since it was a bit of a drive back to our hometown.

The academy grounds were a sea of uniforms from local police to Sheriff’s deputies to Staties, with various shades of blue and tan. My uniform, however, was the only blue one with a “Hawkins Police Dept.” patch. I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or excited when I found out, since the town had a reputation of being quiet, save for the couple occurrences over the last two years.

I made my way back near the front of the Academy, pushing through the sea of people still lingering while they congratulated the new officers. I peered over people’s shoulders, looking for the exit and finally seeing the open gate. I spied the bus stop just beyond it and stepped into the parking lot, only to be stopped when I heard my name called.

“Y/L/N!”

I snapped my head to the left, seeing Commander Bridge leaning against a Blazer with another tall officer. He waved me over with his hand and said something to the officer. I glanced at the side of the Blazer, my eyes widening when I saw “Chief” in bold print followed by “Hawkins Police Dept.” Not an officer, then.

I stood straighter as I approached my new boss. His all tan uniform was almost form fitting his large frame, while a wide-brimmed hat adorned his head. As I approached, he took his sunglasses off and hung them on his shirt, revealing impossibly bright blue eyes. I let my eyes trail up his form, lingering on his lips pulling in as he took a drag from the cigarette in his mouth.

“Officer Y/L/N, this is your new boss,” Bridge motioned with a wave of his hand.

“Chief Hopper,” the man stuck his hand out. I couldn’t help but rake my eyes over the dark blonde beard adorning his cheeks and framing his lips.

I quickly dropped my briefcase to the ground and stuck my hand out as well, “Officer Y/L/N, sir.”

“Yea,” Hopper chuckled and pointed his thumb at Bridge, “he said that. You can tone it down. Relax, you graduated.”

“Sorry, sir,” I apologized for no reason and paused. “Why are you here?”

“Bridge told me you dormed. Figured you might need a ride into town,” Hopper shrugged.

“Oh, well, you didn’t have to do that. I can take the bus, sir,” I gulped. An hour drive with my new, very attractive, boss? No, thanks.

“Well, I’m already here,” Hopper grunted out a sigh and grabbed my briefcase off the floor.

“Sir, no, I can—” I tried to stop him.

“For the love of God, Y/L/N, take a load off,” Hopper responded, almost annoyed with my behavior. He circled around to the back of the Blazer, “Any family you still have to say ‘bye’ to?”

“No, they didn’t quite approve of my career choice,” I murmured.

Hopper simply grunted as he opened the back hatch of the Blazer and tossed the briefcase not-so-gently in the bed. I shrugged my bag off and did the same, nearly jumping when he slammed it shut.

I turned back to Commander Bridge, offering him a smile and shaking his hand, “Thank you for everything, sir.”

Bridge laughed lowly and shook his head, reciprocating the handshake before slapping my shoulder, “Good luck, kid.”

I nodded and jumped into the passenger side of the Blazer, seeing the two men exchange goodbyes like old pals in the passenger mirror. I shook my leg nervously as the Chief rounded the Blazer and jumped in with a heavy sigh.

An hour drive and I’d already managed to annoy the shit out of him before the trip even started. Great.

Chapter 2

[antiquechampagne]

Antique Champagne - CH45 - Riding High

“How do you think Oswald got that little rad rat to sit still like that?” Hancock pulled out a chunk of funnel cake from a box and crammed it into his mouth. He shook the box at Payne. She smiled but refused more ancient sugary confection.

“Didn’t he say the little guy’s name was Murphy? I think you could train just about any animal if you get them young enough.” She gave the box in his hand a little poke. “Isn’t that your second box? You better put it away before you make yourself sick. This time you won’t be able to blame it on a ride.”

They walked together across the promenade as the sun set, the slender crescent moon glowing softly in the color-streaked sky.

After one more small piece of cake, Hancock handed the box to Payne to stash away.

“Where do you think we should head next?” she asked.

“I thought I told you that you were driving today… but since you asked so nicely, why don’t we go on a little safari?”

Something about his tone hinted at something more beneath his words, but Payne only let herself flash a coy little smile. “A safari, huh? That might be fun.”

Just inside the gate to Safari Adventure, they saw Nate talking with a burly shirtless man in a loincloth. Nate waved them over.

“Hey, guys! Did you enjoy Kiddie Kingdom? I’m guessing Oswald gave you the royal treatment given how long you were in there.”

“You were waiting for us?” Payne asked.

Nate glanced at them; a bit confused. Hancock looked at a nearby decaying fake tree before Payne could get a good look at his face.

“Never mind,” the Overboss murmured. He turned to the man next to him, introducing him. “This is Cito. He lives here with his family. Cito, these are my friends, Mayor Hancock and Payne. They’re from the Commonwealth.”

Cito seemed to be studying them, stone faced. He did not move.

Hancock extended a hand, but the man just looked at him. “Nice to meet you too, big guy. Is your whole family as welcoming as you?”

“Cito’s a bit leery of strangers. I’m sure he’ll warm up to you as we show you around. You might even meet his family, if you play your cards right.”

“Cito not play. Cito lead. Follow.” With that, Cito dashed off into the park.

“Ooo-kay then…” Hancock shrugged.

The group ran after him, stopping at a large building.

“Go see monster.” Cito ordered as he pointed to the doors. Nate grabbed a bucket filled with what looked like offal waiting by the front door. The three started to head inside.

Nate turned back. “Are you sure you won’t come in with us? It can’t get out. I promise.”

Cito snorted and stood his ground.

Once inside, the hairs raised on the back of her neck. Instinctively, Payne grabbed her weapon.

“It’s okay. The cage is reenforced. Plus, we feed her all the meat scraps we produce.”

Hancock seemed unconvinced. “Her?”

Though the entry way lay a gigantic cage filled with stagnant water. Payne caught a slight movement under the grime right before a large reptilian form rose from the water, splashing them. Its massive jaws snapped at the bars, exposing row after row of teeth. The creature’s huge muscular arms raked the metal as it hissed and sniffed the air.

“What the fuck is that?” Hancock jumped back. He had left his shotgun in the room, but his knife made a speedy appearance.

Nate motioned for them to lower their weapons. “She’s the last remaining gatorclaw.” He nodded towards the exit. “That’s why Cito won’t come in here. It’s a bit of a story, but the gist of it is Cito and his family were plagued by these monsters. They were all over the park, picking off anything that got near them. See, they were coming from a malfunctioning cloning facility under the building. I destroyed the machines and killed every gatorclaw I came across… but I couldn’t quite find it in my heart to kill her, so I kept her here.”

Nate stuck a hand in the bucket. “Feeding time, girl!” He put the unidentifiable organ on a long pointed stick. The creature quickly snapped up the bits, never taking it’s tiny eyes off it’s incoming meal. Payne watched curiously. She could tell the creature was immensely powerful under it’s armored hide but was starting to grow round in places.

“Gatorclaw…” Payne mused. “Let me guess… someone had the great idea to mix an alligator and deathclaw?”

Nate nodded.

“That’s one hell of a combination.” Hancock remarked.

“You’re telling me… you didn’t almost have your head bitten off by one!” Nate chucked. The bucket empty, the beast slithered back into the water, perfectly hidden in the murky pool.

When they left the enclosure, Cito was still waiting for them. When they got close, he grunted and sprinted off to the next enclosure. Nate explained that, given Safari Adventure was an exotic animal zoo before the war, he had it cleaned up and renovated to house some of the species found only in Nuka-World.

“The herbivores were the easy ones. Brahmiluffs and gazelles took to captivity relatively quickly. Rad-rats took a little longer. Even the gatorclaw, given enough to eat, has become mostly manageable. Cito has even started to work with some of the Pack members in charge of taking care of the animals.” Cito’s chest seemed to puff out the mention. “Some, however, are proving to be more of a pain than they are worth.”

They stopped in front of a metal cage with multiple layers of metal bars, many broken outwards.

“What was here?” Payne asked.

Nate frowned. Cito grumbled. “That was… a mistake.” Payne could tell Nate was not used to failure. “I tried to house a cave cricket there.”

“A cave cricket?” Hancock balked. “One?”

“Bug angry. Not like cage. Kick. Kill many.” Cito bowed his head slightly. “No more bug.”

“That’s right. No more bugs.” Nate agreed. They walked further down the path. Nate turned to Cito again. “So, Cito, what do you say? Can my friends meet your family?”

Cito stopped and thought. “Family de-cide. Come Hat Man. Come Pretty Lady.” Cito led them through a maze of cages to the Primate House.

Nate drew close to Hancock and Payne. “Let me go in first. They know me. We’ll see what happens from there.”

The Primate House was once a sterile series of concrete boxes and metal bars. Not much had changed through the centuries. They could hear movement and noise from inside, but Payne was not expecting to see a dozen or so squat dark furry bodies on the other side. She froze at the sight of, what appeared to be, a full troupe of completely healthy unmutated gorillas.

Cito was greeted warmly by a pair of females. One even had a small face peeking out from between their stocky legs. Cito grunted, sat on the floor, gesturing to them while they groomed each other.

“Those are his sisters. See the baby? He’s about a year old now. Cito is such a proud uncle!”

Payne was transfixed. As she watched she noticed something very particular and familiar. The baby extended two fingers to it’s forehead and gave them a quick twist before clinging to Cito’s calf. Something dawned on her. She started to study the rest of the family.

“They’re signing!” she exclaimed breathlessly to herself.

“What?” Hancock asked confused.

Ignoring him, Payne quickly scooted away, separating herself from the group, sitting quietly on a nearby concrete step before anyone could stop her. A smaller young adult gorilla had also been watching them intently. With Payne by herself, they crept closer, sniffing, vying for a better looking at the strange people.

Slowly, Payne began to sign. “Don’t be scared. I’m a new friend.”

The gorilla’s eyes widened in surprise, before they excitedly tried to answer her back. Unfortunately, the young one’s enthusiasm made it hard to understand, as they bounded excitedly back and forth.

“You can talk! Look! Look! The stranger can talk!”

More primates inched closer, encircling Payne. Even Cito came over, curious over what his family found so intriguing about her.

“You know hand talk?” Cito asked out loud.

“Yeah.” Even though her was thrilled, she knew better than to startle the powerful animals. She did her best to keep her voice calm. “Growing up, my grandmother lost her hearing. We learned ASL… um… hand talk to talk with her.” She couldn’t help but smile, some of the other gorillas seemed to be just as excited as she was. “I never thought it’d come in handy again.”

The young gorilla pulled on her pant leg to get her attention. As Payne turned to see what they wanted, a large commotion rocked the gathering around her. A huge beast of a gorilla burst through the crowd, scattering them. He stared menacingly at Payne, puffing out its barrel-like chest. Even Cito took a step back. This was the family’s alpha, the silver fur on his back like a shining badge of power and authority.

Nate and Hancock reacted quickly, both going to draw weapon until Payne motioned for them to back off. Payne looked down but calmly continued to sit, refusing to move. The leader of the gorillas paced by her, huffing, before eventually sitting a few feet away.

Reluctantly, he began to sign. “Do not speak to my family. Speak to me.”

Payne nodded. “Yes.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to make new friends.”

He seemed unconvinced. Thinking fast, she thought of a way to hopefully smooth things over.

“I brought a gift.” Payne slowly reached into her pack and pulled out the funnel cake box and presented it to the agitated silverback. He sniffed it before snatching it out of her hand. Everyone, human and primate, watched with anticipation. Ripping the box open, he stuffed a handful of cake into his mouth, still eyeing her.

He put the box on the ground. “Too sweet,” he conceded, sat and relax his posture. At that, the situation was resolved. Some of the family fought over the contents of the box, others began to approach Payne. She was quickly flooded with questions from every side. She kept up as best she could. Not only was her sign language rusty after 200 years of disuse, but cross-species communication came with its own hurdles. Gorilla hands could not do everything a human hand could. Plus, over the centuries, some signs had evolved and changed, the intelligent animals even inventing a few of their own.

Payne could hear Cito taking with Nate and Hancock behind her, but in the drive to keep up with the gorillas, she let the men talk without her. It’s not like she could translate everything thrown at her for them anyway. Soon enough, she was being introduced to every family member, shown every resting spot, rubber ball, bucket… generally getting the inside scoop on everything going with the gorilla troop. As one of the older female members of the family asked her where her family was, the infant who had called Cito ‘Uncle’, climbed up her leg and into her lap. When he looked up at her with his gorgeous brown eyes, her heart melted.

“You are so handsome and brave!” Payne cooed as she stroked his fur, his mother looking on.

“Pretty Lady!”

“Hey, Payne?!” Nate called. Every eye in the Primate House looked over. “Um, we’ve got to get going. Can you wrap things up in there?”

Gently, she put the baby on the ground. “Sorry, but I have to leave.” Quickly thinking, she pulled something from her pack. She handed the stuffed sloth toy she had won in the arcade over to the tiny gorilla. “A special gift for a special friend.” The baby’s eye lit up, but he had to wait until his mother inspected the item before clutching it to his chest. He thanked her quickly before clinging, toy and all, to his mother.

Slowly, she made her way back to the door. Cito and a handful of family members showed them out.

“Well, you’ve quite the impression, now didn’t you?” Nate smiled. “I’ve never seen them that excited.”

“I never thought I’d do anything like that. Not in a million years.” Her grin reached from ear to ear. It was as damn near a pure magical experience as she had ever had. “That was amazing.”

“Well, damn. I can’t believe I got outplayed by a bunch of monkeys!” Hancock teased. “Guess I’ll just have to up my game.”

Stepping out into the night, the stars shown bright, twinkling in the dark beyond the lights of the park. As they walked, a raider ran up to them.

“Sir, there is a bit of a,” he eyed the pair next to the Overboss. “situation that needs your attention.”

“One second.” Nate turned to Hancock. “You shouldn’t need me; everything should be ready for you.” He nodded to them before rushing off into the night.

Hancock grabbed her hand.

“Wait! What are you doing? Where are we going?” she asked as he pulled her along leading her towards the heart of the Safari Adventure.

“It’s a surprise!” He refused to say another word.

A huge tree rose above a dilapidated hedge maze. Without Nate to lead them through, it took a moment to find the correct path. It ended at a rickety industrial lift at the base of the tree.

“Your chariot awaits.” Hancock motioned to the lift. All Payne could do was shake her head as she stepped on. It was obvious he had something planned. The metal contraption lurched to life and raised them up into the branches. They stepped out into what was once a well sized camouflaged viewing platform in the shape of an oversized treehouse. At one end stood a wide patio, open to the sky. The other end had a long counter with a raider stooped over a makeshift grill behind it. He angrily grunted as Hancock walked Payne out onto the patio. Under the stars, a single round table was set with a pair of chairs. There was even a long lumpy candle stuck in a Nuka-Dark bottle flickering in the light night breeze in the middle.

Sitting down, Payne looked around a bit confused. “You know you could have just asked me out on a date…”

“Where’s the fun is that?” Hancock has a misogynous twinkle in his eye. “Besides, I got to pick Mr. Pre-war-ice-cube’s brain what would make a proper romantic surprise.” He gestured lightly around them. “This is what we came up with… a quiet intimate dinner made by best grill master in Nuka-World.”

Almost on cue, the raider unceremoniously announced his presence with a single word “Booze” before plunking a bottle between them, then stomping off back to the grill. Payne stifled a giggle as Hancock momentarily struggled getting the corked out. With a satisfying ‘pop’, the bottle was opened, only to find there was nothing to pour the wine into. Taking it in stride with a shrug, Hancock took a quick sip before passing it over.

Payne sniffed it before taking a swallow. It was slightly acidic and crisp, with an almost fruity taste. It went down more easily than anything she had had in a long time.

“Where in the world did you find this?” she asked. “It’s divine.”

“Apparently, Nate got a prewar bottle from the Cabots.” Unaware of the name, she shook her head. “They are an old Boston family.” Hancock explained. “They’ve been living Downtown since before the war. If you take what some people say, maybe literally… but they take great pride in keeping their stuff in pristine condition.”

Payne took closer at the wine. The bottle looked immaculate, the only signs of age the yellowing along the edges of the label. “Well, it’s better than most of the piss people pass off as wine these days, I can vouch for that.”

“Food.” The grill master roughly placed two plates down before them. Just before leaving, he pulled out a handful of silverware from his grimy apron, tossing them on a pile in the middle of the table.

“Uh, thanks?” Payne called after him. His response was a quick middle finger before heading out of sight. “I don’t think he’s getting a tip.”

Looking down, she was met with a huge slab of seared meat, the juices oozing and mixing with the jumble of roasted vegetables. What it lacked in presentation was made up by the superb aroma, something between aged beef and wild game. Even the smell of herbs and garlic reached her. She felt her mouth begin to water.

Neither Payne nor Hancock waited on ceremony. They quickly picked up their cutlery and dug in. The tasty morsels stemmed any meaningful conversation besides a few words of praise and occasional sigh of pleasure.

Once they regained their composure, they caught their breath with sips of the delightfully sweet wine.

“So, how’d I do?” Hancock finally asked.

Between the calm night with glittering stars, the perfect meal and the thoughtful man across from her, Payne was awestruck. She had not felt this cared for by someone in a long time. That’s just not how the world was anymore. She didn’t realize how much she had missed it. Looking at him across the table, she could not help but smile. He was waiting for her answer, but all Payne wanted to do was drink it all in. Nights like this were all too rare.

Finally, she found the words. “All this… it was a lovely surprise. Never in a million years would I think I would be eating such a delicious meal with such a thoughtful man…” Her eyes drifted from his face to the candle casting shadows on it. She quickly realized that, over the course of their dinner, the candle had burned down, the wax melting into a remarkably realistic phallic shape... complete with translucent drops dripping down from the tip.

Her sudden silence and change in expression must have drawn Hancock’s curiosity, because he let out a hearty laugh. “And here I thought had a shot tonight… but looks like someone else has beaten me to the punch!”

They both roared with laughter.

Finally, Payne leaned back in her chair. “You’re not getting anything until all this settles.” Payne patted her stomach. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a fun idea to pass the time.”

Hand in hand, they slowly made their way back to Fizztop under the dim moon.

[splat-dragon]

Though Arlo would never admit it, he put off visiting the new Builder until the next morning.

 He just�� didn’t know what to say. “Hello, welcome to Portia! Oh, by the way, your presence scares the light out of the kids, can you do something about that?” didn’t exactly come across too kindly. Frankly, he’d been hoping he’d have a chance to meet the new Builder, run into them around Portia before he’d have to have a word with them, have it happen more organically. After all, being chastised the first time you meet someone doesn’t exactly build a positive relationship. But they hadn’t, it seemed that she still wasn’t coming into town yet even though she’d come off the boat a week or so ago, so after his morning patrols he headed towards her workshop and walked slowly, trying to figure out what to say.

A cloud of smoke plumed up from behind the little shack and he wondered if she’d already started her work, though he’d only seen Higgins at the commission board (not that he spent much time there, mind.) As he approached though, he found no Builder’s machines, only a campfire still flickering though it was nearing afternoon, a grate placed over it and something sitting on the metal, though from a distance he couldn’t make out what it was. A heap of brown and grey somethings… fur? furs? rested in a pile not far from the fire, and it took him a moment to realize it was a sleeping bag of sorts - was she camping out? She did have a perfectly good (well, not perfectly good, he’d had to pull the kids out of the ‘haunted cabin’ more times than he could count, and he knew it wasn’t exactly the nicest place, though Gale had had it fixed up when she’d bought it) house to sleep in.

 At the far corner of the yard, tied to a long rope, was perhaps the biggest horse he’d ever seen. His Spacer would probably come only to its shoulder, if even that, and Spacer was bigger than the rest of their little herd. From a distance he couldn’t make out much, though he could see that it was a stocky thing, greyish in color with thick legs, a matching neck, and a barrel-like body. It perked its ears when it saw him, and squealed a wary, alarmed greeting.

 He paused at the gate, not wanting to intrude but needing to talk to the woman, and looked around but couldn’t see her anywhere, so knocked on the wood and called a loud “Hello?”

She’d been in Portia for four days (and counting), although she wasn’t sure you could count if being in Portia if she’d never stepped foot in the town proper.

 It wasn’t that she was procrastinating… not really. She was just… getting settled in, honest! She’d never had a house before, not even a room to herself, so she was taking her time to get used to it. And Portia did look very crowded, and there were a lot of people… baby steps, right?

 So she had unloaded the wagon full of her things - not that she had a lot, not really, she’d left most of it behind, distributed it among Sadie and John and Tilly and the rest or lost it in Beaver Hollow to the Pinkertons, the flames or the scavengers that had made it there before she could, but still she did have some things, gifted things or bought things or, to her shame, some stolen things (she swore that she would never steal again after those, but she did need clothing,) so she had a few chests of things that she needed to haul in. She’d left them beside the cabin, intending on unpacking as she went, putting things where they belonged…

 although there weren't many places to put things. She had a bed, and that was that. So finally she set to work dragging the chests inside, an odd warmth in her chest as she added the clothes that Mr. Presley had given her (“a welcome gift!” he’d said) to the chest that held what clothing she’d brought with her, stolen or managed to save from Beaver Hollow.

 She’d tried to sleep in the cabin - really, she had. But it was just so… strange. Sure, having the wind come in through the cracks in the walls made it feel more like home, but it was still unfamiliar, and there was already so much unfamiliar, so much strange, and after the second night after staring at the roof, her eyes burning with exhaustion, she’d dug her bedroll out of the chest of furs she’d brought and set up a small campfire outside, staring at the unfamiliar stars above and listening to her mare’s quiet breathing not far away.

The next day, she tried to make the inside feel more like home. Grabbed one of the wolf hides and stretched it across the broken planks on the floor, kneeling and running her fingers through the coarse fur, already missing hunting with John and Sadie horribly. One of her Double Actions was shoved under the bed - the other on her hip alongside her LeMat, although there was no way she could bear them both.

 She’d not met many people since arriving in Portia. Mr. Presley had welcomed her when she got off the boat but, otherwise, she’d kept to herself. There was a farm nearby, and she’d caught a blond-haired girl looking her way, but she seemed to have caught the hint when she retreated inside when the girl started heading over her way.

 And then, of course, there was a loud knock on her gate and a ‘hello?’ and, though she barked every sour word she knew (which, being an outlaw for almost her entire life, was quite a lot), she had no choice but to open her door - time to face the music.

[tyrannoninja]

Excerpt from “Priestess of the Lost Colony”

The following is an excerpted chapter from my upcoming novel Priestess of the Lost Colony. More information about the book can be found on my official website.

No torches burned inside the tunnel beneath the temple of Mut. Only the brazier Bek carried behind her drove back the blackness, and it was dimming with every passing second. Itawaret occasionally paused to search the floor for branches that she could toss into the brazier, but found nothing but cold and damp stone.  

Finally, they reached a rectangular outline of light at the tunnel’s end. By the mercy of fate, the pair had not stumbled into any booby-traps, nor run into any dead ends branching off from the main passage. While dark, the journey was not as perilous as Itaweret had feared…

Hopefully, it would stay that way.

“How do you know this doesn’t lead to a trap?” Bek asked.

“Think about it. Why would Mut lead us into a trap? Don’t you trust her enough, brother?”

“Assuming that was Mut speaking to us. What if it was that Achaean demon she talked about, that Athena?”

Itaweret fought hard within herself to ignore him, and the possibility he raised. It was a valid point, if she were honest with herself, but it seemed unlikely that an Achaean deity like Athena could penetrate the sanctum of Mut. At least she hoped so. And hope was all they had left.

Itawaret walked up to the rectangle of light and pressed her shoulder against the surface, feeling the same cool stone texture as the tunnel’s walls. She pushed all her strength onto the door, groaning from exertion and the exhausting day, until it fell forward with a hard thud and crumbled outside.

A flood of daylight blinded her. Once her eyes readjusted from the subterranean darkness, she found herself on the summit of a grassy hill that sloped into a gravelly beach beside the sea. The setting sun gilded the crests of the waves, but the colors of the sky graded ominously, from dark red to black. Itaweret wrinkled her nose from the smell of smoke and burnt flesh.

Behind the hill, the city in which she had lived her entire life bloomed into a colossal inferno of flame. The fires that roared on rooftops, together with thick black rivers of smoke, obscured any sight of the carnage that, she realized, must have clogged and already begun to rot over the streets. Still, she could make out a stream of people being herded out through the city gate, prodded along by Mycenaeans in their bronze suits.

They were her fellow citizens of Per-Pehu. Her people, friends and neighbors, reduced to human livestock in one evening.

“How dare they!” Bek shook his fist while watching what she watched, quaking with rage. “We’ve got to do something!”

“We will, brother. We wouldn’t be out here if we weren’t going to do something about it. But we cannot fight now. Come on!”

She took his hand. They descended the hill to a dirt path that meandered northeastward. The cover of the olive and cypress trees alongside it, together with shadows that grew darker with each passing minute, would conceal them from any prowling Mycenaeans.

She hoped.

Less than two hours later, the scarlet heavens faded into blackness almost as pure as that within the tunnel. Now their only light was the half-moon and dusting of tiny stars around it, giving off a faint white glow reflected upon the vegetation and stones. Itaweret huddled close to Bek as they hiked up the path through the foothills, pausing only to pick up sticks to feed the fire in the brazier. If there was one thing to praise the wilderness for, it was an abundance of cheap firewood.

They ascended higher into the hills, climbing until the open, scrubby landscape of the low plains gave way to oak and pine forests that girdled the mountains. They climbed over fallen logs and boulders strewn about with increasing density. If walking uphill had not already worn away at the strength in their legs, maneuvering around these obstacles in the terrain taxed their muscles to aching even more.

Underneath the soft fragrance of the pines, Itaweret’s nostrils flared, capturing another odor, more rancid and unpleasant. She traced the scent to the gleaming, red-spattered bones of a lamb, flies buzzing around the few scraps of meat that clung to it. She had seen cattle and goats sacrificed to the gods in the temple complex at Per-Pehu, but never witnessed their gory remains in a state like this. The sight almost shoved her last meal from her stomach into her throat.

“How could this have died?” she asked.

Bek crouched over the bones and ran his finger over one of five parallel scars raked across the ribcage. He pointed to a weathered impression in the nearby earth, broader than a human hand, with claw marks sticking out before each of its five toes.

“I would have guessed a lion, but cats in general don’t leave prints like this,” Bek said. “Normally they retract their claws, so they wouldn’t show like they do here.”

“Could it be a dog?” Itaweret asked. “Or a jackal? Or one of those gray monsters the Achaeans call wolves?”

Bek shook his head. “Much, much too big for any of those. Truth be told, I have no idea. It must be a kind of monster we’ve never seen in our lives.”

Back home, everyone inside Per-Pehu’s walls had heard travelers’ stories of the beasts that roamed the wilds beyond the colony. Some spoke of cannibalistic men with singular eyes or the heads of bulls, giant swamp-dwelling serpents, or fire-breathing creatures that were part goat, part lion, and part snake. Itaweret had always considered the descriptions too ridiculous to be real. More frightening were the accounts of hulking beasts with dog-like faces and claws like knives, giant cats with dagger-long fangs, and ill-tempered elephants covered in shaggy hair. Those stories sounded almost truthful.

Itaweret wrung her hands around Mut’s scepter, shivering with a dread colder than the nocturnal air itself. “Do you know whether it could be nearby?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Bek said. “The tracks are a little worn. It could have left here hours or even a day ago.”

Two glowing specks of yellow blinked behind a nearby patch of bushes. Leaves rustled and branches snapped as the specks drifted towards them. The furry outline of a thick, stocky body gleamed from the brazier’s firelight. The creature’s snout was long like a dog’s, but its ears were smaller and more rounded. As it panted and grunted, it exuded the same stink of decayed flesh as the sheep carcass.

Itaweret took a step back from the lumbering animal. “What do they call things like that?”

“A bear, I believe,” Bek whispered. “Stand your ground. That could scare him off.”

Itaweret forced herself to stay put and waved the scepter of Mut like a warrior’s staff as Bek shook the brazier back and forth at the beast. Rearing ten feet into the air on its hind feet, the bear curled its lips back, exposing pointed canines. It uncorked a menacing roar while brandishing clawed forepaws.

With a single swat, the bear knocked Itaweret’s scepter out of her hands. She jumped to grab it, but the bear seized the scepter in its mouth and tossed it into the darkness. It swiped at her bosom, raking through her linen cloth and skin with its claws. Sharp pain swept through her chest as she collapsed to the ground.

Bek thrust his brazier again, the heated ash landing on the bear’s backside. Now aggravated, the the bear turned away from Itaweret, roared, and charged him. The bear’s attack on Bek gave her enough time to crawl over and retrieve her scepter. Just as the bear was about to punch the brazier out of Bek’s grasp, she chucked the scepter into its shoulder.

Her blow distracted the beast for another second. Then it swung around and barreled towards her again. She had no another weapon to beat it aside.

Another roar followed.

All the children of Kemet could recognize that deep feline roar. Along with it appeared a pair of yellow eyes, set in a bright tawny form. The feline sprang from the blackness and landed on the bear. The two creatures rolled in the dirt in a chaotic melee of biting and slashing.

The battle ended with the crackle of bone. The bear fell limp, a river of blood gushing from its neck, and more blood spilling from slashing cuts all over its body. The bear’s slayer stood over it, roaring with a savage exultation.

Itawaret and Bek looked upon the largest lion they had ever seen, one with a thick dark mane and faint leopard-like spots on its flanks. She had heard stories of giant spotted lions roaming the countries north of the Great Green Sea, but according to those same stories, they’d died out. Was this the very last, or did it have a whole pride behind it? If the latter, would they be seeking dinner?

Itaweret could only hope the bear’s big and meaty carcass would take their mind off she and Bek.

Then, a voice, a proud voice: “That’s a good boy, Xiphos!”

A young Achaean man in a simple wool tunic walked toward them, carrying a wooden shepherd’s crook. He stroked the lion’s mane as if it were a tame dog, while the big cat gorged itself on the dead bear. Much to Itaweret’s surprise, the lion tolerated the boy’s touch, rather than fending him off like any truly wild animal.

Itawaret brushed droplets of blood off her clothing and jewelry. “Xiphos? Is he your pet or something?”

“My father brought him in when he was a cub,” the Achaean youth said. “No need to fear him, my lady. He’s as gentle as a puppy unless you piss him off. Are you folks all right? It’s not every day we have black people come to these parts.”

“Why do you call us ‘black’ people?” Bek asked. “Our people are various shades of brown, some of us darker than others. If we are ‘black’, would that make you, what, ‘white’?”

The Achaean chuckled. “No use arguing over what we call each other. Trust me, I’ve heard far nastier names for your kind of people. Name’s Philos. And you two?”

Itaweret did not want to know those “nastier” names. “I am Itaweret, High Priestess of Mut from Per-Pehu. And this is my brother Bek, son of the Great Chief Mahu.”

“Aye, so you’re from the colony over the hills.” Philos looked up and down Itaweret’s body, his eyes following her contours in much the same gazing way as Scylax of Mycenae. “And, by Aphrodite, are you fine to look at, scratches and all! Nice curves, especially.”

Itaweret shook her head and grumbled. Achaean or Kemetian, white or black, men were all the same. Though she had to admit, the muscular young Achaean, with his flowing long black hair, wasn’t a wholly unattractive specimen.

“Anyway, either of you wouldn’t have seen a little ewe around these parts, would you?” Philos asked.

“We saw a sheep’s skeleton,” Bek replied. “We think the bear ate it sometime back.”

“Hades be damned, then! Xiphos and I have been looking for her the past couple of days. At least she was only one ewe. So, what are you two Kemetians doing out here?”

“In case you haven’t heard, Per-Pehu has been brutally sacked by King Scylax of Mycenae,” Itaweret said. “Our goddess Mut has sent us a quest northeast, one that will lead to Scylax’s defeat. We hope it does, anyway. She told us that we would find our answer in the first village over the mountains.”

Philos scratched his hair. “By Zeus, that’s my village! I don’t know why we’d know how to beat the king of Mycenae, out of all people in the world. But, if your goddess says so, I ought to help you the best I can.”

“How far is your village, anyway?”

“A few more hills to the east. But we ought to rest here for the night. Xiphos doesn’t like being dragged away from his meals, and I think we’re all damned tired anyway.”

Bek yawned. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Itaweret nodded. Almost every muscle burned from straining, even beyond her wounds from the bear’s attack. Her stomach groaned with hunger. Once the lion filled himself, she wouldn’t mind cooking leftovers of the bear over a fire lit by Bek’s brazier. Never before had she eaten bear meat, but food was food in uncivilized places.

She looked up at the treeline, and caught the flicker of little eyes. They weren’t the yellow eyes of a bear, lion or other predator, but silver-gray eyes… familiar eyes.

She blinked. The eyes were gone.

[sirfrogsworth]

Floof Shaming

A lot of people like to accuse corgis of being fat. They often shame the corgi’s humans for not taking good care of them. I don’t want to call this fat shaming, because that might take away from a much more serious problem, but it is a kind of shaming and it does really suck. Especially when people don’t know what they’re talking about. 

Corgis are stocky and barrel-chested. They have thick double coats. Even when they aren’t “fluffy” corgis, they are still pretty fluffy. And, of course, there is always the ample junk in the trunk.

It’s pretty easy for people unfamiliar with the breed to mistake these attributes for obesity. I try to be patient and explain this politely, but sometimes I do want to yell and say, “THEY’RE JUST ROUND AND FLUFFY!” And if people still don’t believe me, I just have to show a picture of a wet corgi and that usually shuts them up. 

It’s also important to have all of the pertinent information before you accuse someone of taking poor care of their dog. Yes, corgis love to eat and will stuff themselves if you let them. If it is someone’s first time with a corgi and this happens, I feel like instant shame may be a bit harsh. If they don’t let it get too out of hand, getting their doggo back on track isn’t a huge deal. 

Plus, some corgis can put on the pounds even if you feed them the recommended amounts. It can take a bit of trial and error to figure out how much to feed them and how much activity they require. Every corgi is different. When Otis was young we had to adjust his diet a couple of times. It also helped when we got a fence so he could run around in a big space whenever he felt like it. 

It’s also important not to get caught up in average weight stats. While all of their legs may be stumpy, corgis come in many shapes and sizes. A runt might only be 20 pounds, but there are some corgis who can get up to 35-40 pounds and still be rather fit. Otis is a corgi beefcake. Our vet has always been surprised at how naturally muscular he is, even as a puppy. His muscles can tip the scale a bit. If you play tug-o-war with him, he will try to remove your arm from its socket. 

A corgi’s weight doesn’t always tell the whole story. Feeling for the ribs can sometimes be a better indicator. If I recall correctly, you want to be able to just barely feel the separation between them. If they are too boney, the corgi might be underweight. If you can’t feel them at all, it might be time to break out the Richard Simmons VHS collection. “Panting to the Oldies.” 

Another reason you may not want to jump to conclusions... you don’t know the corgi’s story. I have a friend who adopted an old timer who was well over 50 pounds. She is making great progress slimming down her rotund stumper, but it has to be done very slowly. Older corgis can develop hip problems if you increase their activity too quickly. Sometimes they need special water therapy with submerged treadmills. 

My friend has trouble sharing cute pictures of her corgi because dunderheads keep accusing her of taking poor care of him. In actuality, she is a saint for adopting this elderly chunktastic loaf and working to improve his health. I think she’s helped him lose 15 pounds already. He’s such a cutie and she wants to share him with the world, but all she gets is grief whenever she uploads a photo. Which is sad because he’s a handsome old coot. Though, a good angle sometimes helps. Here is Bucky in his bow tie. 

But a full body shot usually comes with a barrage of shamers. 

The moral of the story...

Please don’t make assumptions about corgis and their weight. They could be extra floofy, a C.O.U.S. (corgis of unusual size), or a newly adopted work in progress. 

I know a lot of people have good intentions and just want all the doggos to be happy and healthy, but perhaps starting with a more subtle, inquisitive, polite approach is preferable to “YOUR DOG IS FAT AND YOU ARE TERRIBLE!”

[deus--irae--moved-blog]

— bold all physical traits that apply to your muse.

tagging: @darkin-within @lombra-dalla @bloodmooncarnage @runeterrasjester @hook-and-chains  @hungering-spear @trefoliium @starforgcd @shadow-acolyte @shadowofdarkin @shiedaiisms @inexorabile-fatum @shh-imchargingmylaser @illuminen @patriarchtosin @resonatingtouch @consider-the-tentacle @curioosity @watchfulbalance @hextechenforcer

tagged by: @sparkles-at-twilight and probably more people

eyes (general): large / small / narrow / sharp / squinty / round / wide-set / close-set / deep-set / sunken / bulging / protruding / wide / hooded / heavy-lidded / bright / sparkling / glittering / flecked / dull / bleary / rheumy / cloudy / red-rimmed / beady / bird-like / cat-like / jewel-like / steely / hard / long lashes / sweeping eyelashes / thick eyelashes

eyes (color): chestnut / chocolate brown / cocoa brown / coffee brown / mocha / mahogany / sepia / sienna brown / mink brown / copper / amber / cognac / whiskey / brandy / honey / tawny / topaz / hazel / obsidian / onyx / coal / raven / midnight / sky blue / sunny blue / cornflower blue / steel blue / ice blue / arctic blue / glacial blue / crystal blue / cerulean / electric blue / azure / lake blue / aquamarine / turquoise / denim blue / slate blue / slate gray / storm blue / storm gray / silver / silver gray / chrome / platinum / pewter / smoky gray / ash gray / concrete gray / dove gray / shark gray / fog gray / gunmetal gray / olive / emerald / leaf green / moss green / crystal purple

eyebrows: arched/ straight / plucked / sparse / trim / dark / faint / thin / thick / unruly / bushy / heavy

skin (general): lined / wrinkled / seamed / leathery / sagging / drooping / loose / clear / smooth / silken / satiny / dry / flaky / scaly / delicate / thin / translucent / luminescent / baby-soft / flawless / small pores  / large pores / glowing / dewy / dull / velvety / fuzzy / rough / uneven / mottled / dimpled / doughy / firm / freckled / pimply / pockmarked / blemished / pitted / scarred / bruised / veined / scratched / sunburned / weather-beaten / raw / tattooed

skin (color): amber / bronze / copper / dark brown / deep brown / ebony / honey / golden / pale / pallid / pasty / fair / light / cream / alabaster / ivory / bisque / milk / porcelain / chalky / sallow / olive / peach / rosy / ruddy / florid / russet / tawny / fawn

face structure: square / round / oblong / oval / elongated / narrow / heart-shaped / cat-like / wolfish / high forehead / broad forehead / prominent brow ridge / protruding brow bone / sharp cheekbones / high cheekbones / angular cheekbones / hollow cheeks / square jaw / chiseled / sculpted / craggy / soft / jowly / jutting chin / pointed chin / weak chin / receding chin / double chin / cleft chin / dimple in chin / visible adam’s apple

nose: snub / dainty / button / turned-up / long / broad / thin / straight / pointed / crooked / aquiline / roman / bulbous / flared / hawk / strong / lion muzzle

mouth/lips: thin / narrow / full / lush / cupid’s bow / rosebud / dry / cracked / chapped / moist / glossy / straight teeth  / crooked teeth / gap between teeth / gleaming white teeth / yellowed teeth / fangs / braces / overbite / underbite / dimples

facial hair: clean-shaven / smooth-shaven / beard / neckbeard / goatee / moustache / sideburns / mutton-chop sideburns / stubble / a few days’ growth of beard / five o’ clock shadow

hair (general): long / short / shoulder-length / loose / limp / dull / shiny / glossy / sleek / smooth / luminous / lustrous / spiky / stringy / shaggy / tangled / messy / tousled / windblown / unkempt / straggly / neatly combed / parted / slicked down / slicked back / cropped / clipped / buzzed / buzz cut / curly / bushy / frizzy / wavy / straight / lanky / dry / oily / greasy / layers / corkscrews / spirals / ringlets / braid(s) / dreadlocks / widow’s peak / bald / shaved / comb-over / thick / luxuriant / voluminous / full / wild / untamed / bouncy / wispy / fine / thinning

hair (color): black / blue-black / jet black / raven / ebony / inky black / midnight / sable / salt and pepper / silver / silver gray / charcoal gray / steel gray / white / snow-white / brown / brunette / chocolate brown / coffee brown / ash brown / brown sugar / nut brown / caramel / tawny brown / toffee brown / red / ginger / auburn / copper / strawberry blonde / butterscotch / honey / wheat / blonde / golden / sandy blond / flaxen / fair-haired / bleached / platinum / pink / purple / very dark violet

body type: tall / average height / short / petite / tiny / compact / big / large / burly / beefy / bulky / brawny / barrel-chested / heavy / heavy-set / fat / overweight / obese / flabby / chunky / chubby / pudgy / pot-bellied / portly / thick / stout / lush / plush / full-figured / ample / rounded / voluptuous / curvy / hourglass / plump / leggy / long-legged / gangling / lanky / coltish / lissome / willowy / lithe / lean / slim / slender / trim / thin / skinny / emaciated / gaunt / bony / spare / solid / stocky / wiry / rangy / sinewy / stringy / ropy / sturdy / strapping / powerful / hulking / fit / athletic / toned / muscular / chiseled / taut / ripped / herculean / broad-shouldered / sloping shoulders / bowlegged

hands: delicate / small / large / square / sturdy / strong / smooth / rough / calloused / elegant / plump / manicured / stubby fingers / long fingers / ragged nails / grimy fingernails / ink-stained / claws

[alfheimassassin]

Elvurith Fëanor

eyes (general):

large / small / narrow / sharp / squinty / round / wide-set / close-set / almond-shaped / deep-set / sunken / bulging / protruding / wide / hooded / heavy-lidded / bright / sparkling / glittering / flecked / dull / bleary / rheumy / cloudy / red-rimmed / beady / bird-like / cat-like / jewel-like / steely / hard / long lashes / sweeping eyelashes / thick eyelashes

eyes (color):

chestnut / chocolate brown / cocoa brown / coffee brown / mocha / mahogany / sepia / sienna brown / mink brown / copper / amber / cognac / whiskey / brandy / honey / tawny / topaz / hazel / obsidian / onyx  / coal / raven / midnight / sky blue / sunny blue / cornflower blue / steel blue / ice blue / arctic blue / glacial blue / crystal blue / cerulean / electric blue / azure / lake blue / aquamarine / turquoise / denim blue / slate blue / slate gray / storm blue / storm gray / silver / silver gray / chrome / platinum / pewter / smoky gray / ash gray / concrete gray / dove gray / shark gray / fog gray / gunmetal gray / olive / emerald / leaf green / moss green / soft pink / seafoam / cyan / blood red / bright pink / dawn red

eyebrows:

arched / straight / plucked / sparse / trim / dark / faint / thin / thick / unruly / bushy / heavy / curved

skin (general):

lined / wrinkled / seamed / leathery / sagging / drooping / loose / clear / smooth / silken / satiny / dry / flaky / scaly / plated / delicate / thin / translucent / luminescent / baby-soft / flawless / small pores / large pores / glowing / dewy / dull / velvety / fuzzy / rough / uneven / mottled / dimpled / doughy / firm / freckled / pimply / pockmarked / blemished / pitted / scarred/ bruised / veined / scratched / sunburned / weather-beaten / raw / tattooed / metallic / pierced / scarification / natural armor

skin (color):

amber / bronze / cinnamon / copper / dark brown / deep brown / dark blue / ebony / pure white / honey / golden / pale / pallid / pasty / fair / light / cream / alabaster / ivory / bisque / milk/ porcelain / chalky / sallow / olive / peach / rosy / ruddy / florid / russet / tawny / fawn / lurid / red / violet

face structure:

square / round / oblong / oval / elongated / narrow / heart-shaped / cat-like / wolfish / high forehead / broad forehead / prominent brow ridge / protruding brow bone / sharp cheekbones /high cheekbones / angular cheekbones / hollow cheeks / square jaw / chiseled / sculpted / craggy / soft / jowly / jutting chin / pointed chin / weak chin / receding chin / double chin / cleft chin / dimple in chin / visible adam’s apple / carved features / carved jawline / fine features

nose:

snub / dainty / button / turned-up / long / broad / thin / straight / pointed / crooked / aquiline /roman / bulbous / flared / hawk / strong / linear

mouth/lips:

thin / narrow / full / lush / cupid’s bow / rosebud / dry / cracked / chapped / moist / glossy /straight teeth / crooked teeth / gap between teeth / gleaming white teeth / yellowed teeth / braces / overbite / underbite / dimples / serrated teeth / curved teeth / fangs

facial hair:

clean-shaven / smooth-shaven / beard / neckbeard / goatee / moustache / sideburns / mutton-chop sideburns / stubble / a few days’ growth of beard / five o’ clock shadow / metallic beard extension / chin scales / plates

hair (general):

long / short / shoulder-length / loose / limp / dull / shiny / glossy / sleek / smooth/luminous / lustrous / spiky / stringy / shaggy / tangled / messy / tousled / windswept / unkempt / straggly / neatly combed / parted / slicked down / slicked back / cropped / clipped / buzzed / buzz cut / curly(sometimes) / bushy / frizzy / wavy(sometimes) / straight(Usually) / lanky / dry / oily / greasy / layers / corkscrews / spirals / ringlets / braids / dreadlocks / widow’s peak / bald / shaved / comb-over / thick / luxuriant / voluminous / full / wild / untamed / bouncy / wispy / fine / thinning / floorlength / coiffured / braid / plaits

hair (color):

black / blue-black / jet black / raven / ebony / inky black / midnight / sable / salt and pepper / silver / silver gray / charcoal gray / steel gray / white / snow-white / brown / brunette / chocolate brown / coffee brown / ash brown / brown sugar / nut brown / caramel / tawny brown / toffee brown / red / ginger / auburn / copper / strawberry blonde / butterscotch / honey / wheat / blonde / golden / sandy blond / flaxen / fair-haired / bleached / platinum / violet / mauve

body type:

tall / average height / short / petite / tiny / compact / big / large / burly / beefy / bulky / brawny / barrel-chested / heavy / heavy-set / fat / overweight / obese / flabby / chunky / chubby / pudgy / pot-bellied / portly / thick / stout / lush / plush / full-figured / ample / rounded / voluptuous /curvy / hourglass / plump / soft / leggy / long-legged / gangling / lanky / coltish / lissome / willowy / lithe / lean / svelte / slim / slender / trim / thin / skinny / emaciated / gaunt / bony / spare / solid / stocky / wiry / rangy / sinewy / stringy / ropy / sturdy / strapping / powerful / hulking / fit / athletic / toned / muscular / chiseled / taut / ripped / herculean / broad-shouldered / sloping shoulders / bowlegged

hands:

delicate / small / large / square / sturdy / strong / smooth / rough / calloused / elegant / plump / manicured / stubby fingers / long fingers / ragged nails / grimy fingernails / ink-stained / talons / long nails

Tagged by: @muchmuses

Tagging: anyone that wants to cause im too tired to pick people lol

[infabvla-blog]

—    bold   all   physical   traits   that   apply   to   your   muse.

tagged by: @thelcved tagging: *sweats bc i don’t interact with many people here and don’t wanna bother them*

eyes (general):    large   /   small   /   narrow   /   sharp  /   squinty   /  round  /   wide-set   /   close-set   /   deep-set   /   sunken   /   bulging   /   protruding   /   wide  /   hooded   /   heavy-lidded  /   bright   /   sparkling  /  glittering   /   flecked /   dull   /   bleary   /   rheumy   /   cloudy   /   red-rimmed   /   beady   /   bird-like  /   cat-like   /   jewel-like  /   steely   /   hard   /  long lashes   /   sweeping eyelashes   /   thick eyelashes /  crows feet

eyes (color):     amethyst /   chestnut   /   chocolate brown  /   cocoa brown   /   coffee brown   /   mocha   /   mahogany   /   sepia   /   sienna brown   /   mink brown /   copper   /   amber   /   cognac   /   whiskey   /   brandy   /   honey   /    tawny   /   topaz   /   hazel /   obsidian   /   onyx   /   coal   /   raven   /   midnight   /   sky blue   /   sunny blue   /   cornflower blue   /   steel blue   /   ice blue   /   arctic blue   /   glacial blue   /   crystal blue   /   cerulean   /   electric blue   /   violet  /   lake blue   /   aquamarine   /   turquoise   /   denim blue   /   slate blue / slate gray   /   storm blue / storm gray   /   silver   /   silver gray   /   chrome   /   platinum   /   pewter   /   smoky gray   /   ash gray   /   concrete gray   /   dove gray   /   shark gray   /   fog gray   /   gunmetal gray   /   olive   /   emerald   /   leaf green   /   moss green   /   mauve  

eyebrows:     arched   /   straight  /   plucked   /   sparse   /   trim   /   dark   /   faint  /   thin   /  thick   /   unruly   /   bushy   /   heavy

skin (general):    lined   /   wrinkled   /   seamed   /   leathery   /   sagging   /   drooping   /   loose   /   clear / smooth  /   silken   /   satiny   /   dry   /   flaky   /   scaly   /   delicate   /   thin   /   translucent   /   luminescent   /  baby-soft  /   flawless  /   small pores  /   large pores   /  glowing  /   dewy  /   dull   /   velvety   /   fuzzy   /  rough (in places)   /   uneven   /   mottled   /   dimpled   /   doughy   /   firm   /   freckled   /   pimply   /   pockmarked   /   blemished   /   pitted   /   scarred  /   bruised   /   veined   /   scratched   /   sunburned   /   weather-beaten   /  raw   /  tattooed

skin (color):    amber   /   bronze   /   cinnamon   /   copper   /   dark brown   /   deep brown  /   ebony   /   honey   /   golden   /   pale   /   pallid   /   pasty   /   fair /   light   /   cream   /   alabaster   /   ivory   /   bisque   /   milk   /  porcelain   /   chalky   /   sallow   /   olive   /   peach   /   rosy   /   ruddy   /   florid   /   russet   /   tawny   /   fawn

face structure:     square   /   round   /   oblong   /   oval   /   elongated   /   narrow   /   heart-shaped /   cat-like   /   wolfish   /   high forehead   /   broad forehead   /   prominent brow ridge   /   protruding brow bone   /   sharp cheekbones  /   high cheekbones   /   angular cheekbones   /   hollow cheeks   /  square jaw /  chiseled  /   sculpted   /   craggy   /   soft   /   jowly   /   jutting chin   /   pointed chin   /   weak chin   /   receding chin   /   double chin   /   cleft chin   /   dimple in chin   /   visible adam’s apple

nose:    snub   /   dainty   /   button   /   turned-up   /   long   /   broad  /   thin   /   straight   /  pointed   /   crooked   /   aquiline   /   roman   /   bulbous   /   flared   /   hawk   /   strong

mouth/lips: thin   /   narrow   /   full   /  lush   /   cupid’s bow   /   rosebud   /   dry   /   cracked   /   chapped   /   moist  /   glossy  /   straight teeth   /   crooked teeth   /   gap between teeth   /  gleaming white teeth /   yellowed teeth   /   braces   /   overbite   /  underbite   /   dimples

facial hair:     clean-shaven   /   smooth-shaven   /   beard   /   neckbeard   /   goatee   /   moustache   /   sideburns   /   mutton-chop sideburns   /   stubble   /   a few days’ growth of beard  /  five o’ clock shadow

hair (general):     long  /   short   /   shoulder-length /   loose /   limp   /   dull   /   shiny   /   glossy   /   sleek   /  smooth   /   luminous   /   lustrous  /   spiky   /   stringy    /   shaggy   /   tangled   /   messy   /   tousled /  windblown /   unkempt   /   straggly   /   neatly combed   /  parted   / slicked down  / slicked back  /   cropped   /   clipped   /   buzzed  /  buzz cut   /  curly  /   bushy  /  frizzy   /   wavy   /   straight   /   lanky   /   dry   /   oily   /   greasy   /   layers   /   corkscrews   /   spirals   /   ringlets   /   braids  /   dreadlocks   /   widow’s peak   /   bald   /   shaved   /   comb-over   /  thick   /   luxuriant  /   voluminous   /   full  /   wild  /   untamed   /   bouncy   /   wispy   /   fine   /   thinning

hair (color):    black  /   blue-black   /   jet black   /   raven   /   ebony   /   inky black   /   midnight   /   sable   /   salt and pepper   /   silver /   silver gray   /   charcoal gray   /   steel gray   /   white   /   snow-white   /   brown   /   brunette   /   chocolate brown   /   coffee brown   /   ash brown   /   brown sugar   /   nut brown   /   caramel   /   tawny brown   /   toffee brown   /   red   /   ginger   /   auburn   /   copper   /   strawberry blonde   /   butterscotch   /   honey   /   wheat   /   blonde   /   golden   /   sandy blond   /   flaxen   /   fair-haired   /   bleached   /   platinum

body type:    tall   /   average height   /   short  /   petite   /   tiny   /   compact   /   big   /   large   /   burly   /   beefy   /   bulky   /   brawny   /   barrel-chested   /   heavy   /   heavy-set   /   fat   /   overweight   /   obese   /   flabby   /   chunky   /   chubby   /   pudgy   /   pot-bellied   /   portly   /   thick   /   stout /   lush   /   plush   /   full-figured   /   ample   /   rounded   /   voluptuous   /   curvy /   hourglass  /   plump   /   leggy   /   long-legged   /   gangling   /   lanky   /   coltish   /   lissome   /   willowy   /   lithe   /   lean   /   slim   /  slender  /   trim   /   thin   /  skinny   /   emaciated   /   gaunt   /   bony  /   spare   /   solid   /   stocky   /   wiry   /   rangy   /   sinewy   /   stringy   /   ropy   /   sturdy   /   strapping   /   powerful   /   hulking   /   fit   /   athletic   /   toned  /   muscular   /   chiseled   /   taut   /   ripped   /   herculean   /   broad-shouldered  /   sloping shoulders   /   bowlegged

hands:     delicate   /   small /   large   /   square   /   sturdy   /   strong  /   smooth /   rough   /  calloused  / elegant /   plump   /   manicured  /   stubby fingers   /   long fingers   /   ragged nails   /   grimy fingernails  /  ink-stained

[noxian-rose]

—    bold   all   physical   traits   that   apply   to   your   muse.

tagging: @herbounty​ . @hook-and-chains​ . @lustyevelynn​ , anddd @hahahahavoc​ since literally everyone i typically tag already did this lol

tagged by: literally like 10 people lakjdalksjd 

eyes (general):     large   /   small   /   narrow /   sharp   /   squinty   /   round   /   wide-set   /   close-set   /   deep-set /   sunken   /   bulging   /   protruding   /   wide  /   hooded   /   heavy-lidded   /   bright /   sparkling   /   glittering   /   flecked   /   dull   /   bleary   /   rheumy   /   cloudy   /   red-rimmed   /   beady   /   bird-like   /   cat-like /   jewel-like   /   steely   /   hard   /   long lashes /   sweeping eyelashes   /   thick eyelashes

eyes (color):     chestnut   /   chocolate brown   /   cocoa brown   /   coffee brown   /   mocha   /   mahogany   /   sepia   /   sienna brown   /   mink brown   /   copper   /   amber   /   cognac   /   whiskey   /   brandy   /   honey   /    tawny   /   topaz   /   hazel   /   obsidian   /   onyx   /   coal   /   raven   /   midnight   /   sky blue   /   sunny blue   /   cornflower blue   /   steel blue   /   ice blue   /   arctic blue   /   glacial blue   /   crystal blue   /   cerulean   /   electric blue   /   azure   /   lake blue   /   aquamarine   /   turquoise   /   denim blue   /   slate blue / slate gray   /   storm blue / storm gray   /   silver   /   silver gray   /   chrome   /   platinum   /   pewter   /   smoky gray   /   ash gray   /   concrete gray   /   dove gray   /   shark gray   /   fog gray   /   gunmetal gray   /   olive   /   emerald   /   leaf green   /   moss green / ruby

eyebrows:     arched   /   straight   /   plucked   /   sparse   /   trim   /   dark   /   faint   /   thin   /   thick(somewhat)   /   unruly   /   bushy   /   heavy

skin (general):     lined   /   wrinkled   /   seamed   /   leathery   /   sagging   /   drooping   /   loose   /   clear   /   smooth /   silken   /   satiny   /   dry   /   flaky   /   scaly   /   delicate   /   thin   /   translucent   /   luminescent   /   baby-soft   /   flawless   /   small pores   /   large pores   /   glowing   /   dewy   /   dull   /   velvety   /   fuzzy   /   rough   /   uneven   /   mottled   /   dimpled   /   doughy   /   firm   /   freckled   /   pimply   /   pockmarked   /   blemished   /   pitted   / scarred /   bruised /   veined   /   scratched   /   sunburned   /   weather-beaten   /   raw   /  tattooed

skin (color):     amber   /   bronze   /   cinnamon / copper /   dark brown   /   deep brown   /   ebony   /   honey   /   golden   /   pale   /   pallid   /   pasty   /   fair   /   light   /   cream   /   alabaster   /   ivory   /   bisque   /   milk   /   porcelain   /   chalky   /   sallow   /   olive   /   peach   /   rosy   /   ruddy   /   florid   /   russet   /   tawny   /   fawn

face structure:     square   /   round /   oblong   /   oval /   elongated   /   narrow   /   heart-shaped   /   cat-like   /   wolfish   /   high forehead   /   broad forehead   /   prominent brow ridge   /   protruding brow bone   /   sharp cheekbones   /   high cheekbones   /   angular cheekbones   /   hollow cheeks   /   square jaw   /   chiseled   /   sculpted   /   craggy   /   soft /   jowly   /   jutting chin   /   pointed chin   /   weak chin   /   receding chin   /   double chin   /   cleft chin   /   dimple in chin   /   visible adam’s apple

nose:     snub   /   dainty   /   button   /   turned-up   /   long   /   broad   /   thin  /   straight   /   pointed   /   crooked   /   aquiline   /   roman   /   bulbous   /   flared   /   hawk   /   strong

mouth/lips:  thin /   narrow   /   full   /   lush   /   cupid’s bow   /   rosebud   /   dry   /   cracked   /   chapped   /   moist   /   glossy   /   straight teeth /   crooked teeth   /   gap between teeth   /   gleaming white teeth /   yellowed teeth   /   braces   /   overbite   /   underbite   /   dimples

facial hair:     clean-shaven   /   smooth-shaven   /   beard   /   neckbeard   /   goatee   /   moustache   /   sideburns   /   mutton-chop sideburns   /   stubble   /   a few days’ growth of beard   /   five o’ clock shadow

hair (general):     long  /   short /   shoulder-length ( up bust ) /   loose /   limp   /   dull   /   shiny /   glossy /   sleek /   smooth   /   luminous   /   lustrous /   spiky /   stringy    /   shaggy   /   tangled   /   messy   /   tousled   /   windblown   /   unkempt   /   straggly   /   neatly combed   /   parted   /   slicked down /   slicked back   /   cropped   /   clipped   /   buzzed   /   buzz cut   /   curly   /   bushy   /   frizzy   /   wavy   /   straight   /   lanky   /   dry   /   oily   /   greasy   / layers  /   corkscrews   /   spirals   /   ringlets   /   braids   /   dreadlocks   /   widow’s peak   /   bald   /   shaved   /   comb-over   /  thick   /   luxuriant   /   voluminous /   full   /   wild   /   untamed   /   bouncy   /   wispy   /   fine   /   thinning

hair (color):     black   /   blue-black   /   jet black   /   raven   /   ebony   /   inky black   /  midnight   /   sable   /   salt and pepper   /   silver   /   silver gray   /   charcoal gray   /   steel gray   /   white   /   snow-white   /   brown   /   brunette   /   chocolate brown   /   coffee brown   /   ash brown   /   brown sugar   /   nut brown   /   caramel   /   tawny brown   /   toffee brown   /   red   /   ginger   /   auburn   /   copper   /   strawberry blonde   /   butterscotch   /   honey   /   wheat   /   blonde   /   golden   /   sandy blond   /   flaxen   / fair-haired   /   bleached   /   platinum

body type:     tall   /   average height /   short   /   petite   /   tiny   /   compact   /   big   /   large   /   burly   /   beefy   /   bulky   /   brawny   /   barrel-chested   /   heavy   /   heavy-set   /   fat   /   overweight   /   obese   /   flabby   /   chunky   /   chubby   /   pudgy   /   pot-bellied   /   portly   /   thick  /   stout   /   lush /   plush   /   full-figured   /   ample /   rounded   /  voluptuous   /   curvy   /   hourglass /   plump   /   leggy /   long-legged   /   gangling   /   lanky   /   coltish   /   lissome   /   willowy   /   lithe   /   lean   /   slim   /   slender  /   trim   /   thin   /   skinny   /   emaciated   /   gaunt   /   bony   /   spare   /   solid   /   stocky   /   wiry   /   rangy   /   sinewy   /   stringy   /   ropy   /   sturdy   /   strapping   /   powerful   /   hulking   /   fit  / athletic   / toned /   muscular  /   chiseled   /   taut /   ripped   /   herculean   /   broad-shouldered   /   sloping shoulders   /   bowlegged

hands:     delicate   /   small   /   large   /   square   /   sturdy   /   strong /   smooth /  rough /   calloused   /   elegant   /   plump   /   manicured   /   stubby fingers   /   long fingers /   ragged nails   /   grimy fingernails   /   ink-stained  /

[mythadvocate-blog]

VOIDJAMMER 5E

Waaay back in the 80's, TSR put out an awesome (and strange) role-playing campaign setting called Spelljammer. Its all about space travel in a fantasy universe. This campaign setting was so far out that most fans of AD&D of the time had a hard time getting into it. This resulted in the mothballing of the setting in favor of more popular lines like Forgotten Realms. Though I understand the problems people had with the setting, I still had and have a strong affection for the setting. Flying ships, space elves, and cosmic themes all call to my weird heart. And so I am going to be adapting/converting Spelljammer friendly material using Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition game rules. This will be primarily for my home campaign, but I hope to make some solid and fun material for all of those spelljammer fans out there.

Voidjammer 5E Campaign Setting 

The Voidjammer setting is to be all about travel to other worlds in a fantasy setting. This is not a new notion mind you. The ancients long dreamed of Astral Travel, flying ships and journeys through the night sky.

The setting will mix both Greek views of Ptolemaic astronomy and Aristotelian physics with Xi,  the Chinese notion of spirit and flow. Space will still be a hostile place, but with more leeway for survival by plucky adventurers. But this survivability also includes plenty of dangerous denizens that can be far more deadly for the unwary.

But don't let this high-falutin talk about philosophy and weird science put you off. The setting will be dominated by the Rule of Cool, with archaic physics only used to make weirdly wonderful settings and all manner of high strangeness. Voidjammer will be chock-full of goofy-fun and themes from my favorite comics, cartoons and cheesy movies. But all will not be silly. The universe is deadly dangerous, especially when things seem the most relaxed. 

For starters, I will be getting into deeper details about the setting, but for starters I present a favorite race from the Spelljammer Setting, converted to 5th Edition rules: 

THE GIFF (Race) 

The Giff are a race of powerfully muscled mercenaries. They are civilized, but love all things relating to combat. Giff regularly hire themselves with various groups as mercenaries, bodyguards, enforcers, and general leg-breakers. The Mercane do a small business in Giff mercenaries, but usually local contractors do the task.       

Physical Description: Giff are thick-skinned, hulking humanoids with hippopotami-shaped heads. They have stocky legs, barrel-shaped torsos with broad chests, and podgy fingers. Their skin is black, gray or gold, and often covered with brightly colored tattoos.                                                        

History: Giff can no longer remember where their homeworld is, so long have they wandered between the spheres. They tell stories of a jungle planet where weapon caches lie between every tree, and smoke powder billows through the air.             

Society: Giff respect a chain of command that encompasses their whole race, and like structure and organization. They form platoons to serve other space-faring races on a mercenary basis. Giff tend to be fighters and rogues. Fighters act as bodyguards, marines and soldiers, while rogues function as military scouts, spies or assassins. They love weapons of any sort, and tend to accumulate a collection of their favorite instruments of war. 

Giff like unarmed fighting and will brawl just for fun. They like friendly tests of strength but can be nervous around stronger races such as giants. Drawing a weapon in front of a giff, however, is a serious matter, and they are known to fight to the death after such provocation.

Giff clerics are usually Planar Clerics of the plane of Buxenus (Arcadia), with many focusing on Taweret (closely allied with The Seekers of Ptah), but will sometimes follow other faiths. 

Giff Names: Giff names are blunt and uncomplicated, deriving from the Giant tongue.Male: Pomj, Dromb, Lewmur, Hurst, Ularn. Female: Ulyrn, Weelso, Hrusta, Beluarr, Yuralsha.                                                                                 

Giff Traits                                                                                                          

Giff have the following racial traits. 

Ability Score Increase. Your Strength score increases by 2, and your Constitution score increases by 1. 

Age. Giff mature faster than humans, reaching adulthood at 14 and old age at 60. They can live to 90 years. 

Alignment. Giff have a reputation for honoring contracts: many are Lawful. They are less concerned about the ethics of those contracts, so Good giff tend to be less common. 

Size. Giff are bulky and tall, and can be as tall as 9 feet. Your size is Medium. 

Speed. Your base walking speed is 30 feet. 

Headbutt. When you make a weapon attack, you can make a powerful headbutt. If you hit with your head, you deal bludgeoning damage equal to 1d6 + your Strength modifier. 

Menacing. You gain proficiency in the Intimidation skill. 

Relentless Endurance. When you are reduced to 0 hit points but not killed outright, you can drop to 1 hit point instead. You can’t use this feature again until you finish a long rest. 

Savage Attacks. When you score a critical hit with a melee weapon attack, you can roll one of the weapon’s damage dice one additional time and add it to the extra damage of the critical hit. 

Languages. You can speak, read, and write Common and Giant. 

[erichtai-m]

: physical traits :

Tagged by @emilyplaysgames

—    bold  all   physical   traits   that   apply   to   your   muse.

eyes (general):    large   /   small   /   narrow   /   sharp  /   squinty   /   round   /   wide-set   /   close-set   /   deep-set  /   sunken   /   bulging   /   protruding   /   wide   /   hooded   /   heavy-lidded   /   bright /  feverish  /  sparkling   /   glittering  /   flecked   /   dull   /   bleary   /   rheumy   /   cloudy   /   red-rimmed   /   beady   /  bird-like  /   cat-like   /   jewel-like   /   steely   /   hard   /   long lashes   /  sweeping eyelashes   /   thick eyelashes

eyes (color):    chestnut   /   chocolate brown  /   cocoa brown   /   coffee brown   /   mocha   /   mahogany   /   sepia   /   sienna brown   /   mink brown   /   copper   /   amber   /   cognac   /  whiskey   /   brandy   /   honey   /    tawny   /   topaz   /   hazel   /   obsidian   /   onyx   /   coal   /   raven   /   midnight   /   sky blue   /   sunny blue   /   cornflower blue   /   steel blue   /   ice blue   /   arctic blue   /   glacial blue   /   crystal blue   /   cerulean   /   electric blue   /   azure   /   lake blue   /   aquamarine   /   turquoise   /   denim blue   /   slate blue   /   slate gray   /   storm blue   /   amethyst  /   storm gray   /   silver   /   silver gray   /   chrome   /   platinum   /  white /  pewter   /   smoky gray   /   ash gray   /   concrete gray   /   dove gray   /   shark gray   /   fog gray   /   gunmetal gray   /   olive  /   emerald  /   peridot  /   a loud green  /  leaf green   /   moss green   /   soft pink   /   seafoam   /  damaged (white/blood flecked) ((ruby / hetochromia))

eyebrows:   arched  /   straight   /   plucked  /   sparse   /   trim   /   dark   /   faint   /   thin   / thick   /   unruly   /   bushy   /   heavy / defined

skin (general):  lined /   wrinkled  /   seamed   /   leathery   /   sagging   /   drooping   /   loose   /  clear  /   smooth  /   silken   /   satiny   /   fine-grained   /  dry  /   flaky   /   partially scaly   /  delicate   /   thin   /   translucent   /   luminescent   /   baby-soft    /   small pores   /   large pores   /   glowing   /   dewy   /   dull   /   velvety /   fuzzy   /   rough   /   farmer’s tan   /   mottled   /   dimpled   /   doughy   /   firm   /   freckled   /   pimply   /   pockmarked   /   blemished   /   pitted   /   scarred   /   bruised   /   veined   /   scratched   /   sunburned   /  weather-beaten  /   raw   /   tattooed

skin (color):     amber   /   bronze   /   cinnamon   /   copper   /   brown  /  dark brown   /   deep brown   /   ebony   /  dark honey   /   golden   /   pale   /   pallid   /   pasty   /   fair   /   light   /   cream   /  alabaster   /   ivory   /   bisque   /   milk   /   porcelain  /   chalky   /   sallow   /   olive   /   peach   /   rosy   /   ruddy   /   florid   /   russet   /  tawny   /   fawn   /   dark blue /  blueish-grey

face structure:     square   /   round   /   oblong   /   oval   /   elongated   /  narrow /   heart-shaped   /   cat-like   /   wolfish   /   high forehead  /   broad forehead   /   prominent brow ridge   /   protruding brow bone   /   sharp cheekbones   /   high cheekbones   /  angular cheekbones   /   hollow cheeks   /   square jaw  /   chiseled   /   severe  /   craggy  /   soft  /   jowly   /   jutting chin   /   pointed chin /   weak chin   /   receding chin   /   double chin   /   cleft chin   /   dimple in chin   /   visible adam’s apple

nose:  snub /   dainty   /   button   /   turned-up   /   long  /   broad   /   thin   / straight   /  pointed   /   crooked   /   aquiline   /   roman   /   bulbous   /   flared   /   hawk   /   strong  / sharp

mouth/lips: thin /   narrow   /   full /   lush   /   cupid’s bow /   wide   /   rosebud   /   dry   /   cracked   /   chapped    /   moist   /   glossy   /   straight teeth   /  crooked lower teeth   /   gap between teeth   /   white teeth /   yellowed teeth   /   braces   /   overbite   /   underbite   /  dimples   /  

facial hair:  clean-shaven   /   smooth-shaven  /   beard   /   neckbeard   /   goatee   /  moustache   /   sideburns   /   mutton-chop sideburns   /   stubble   /   a few days’ growth of beard   /   five o’ clock shadow  /

hair (general): long   /   short  /   shoulder-length   /   loose   /   limp   /   dull   /   shiny   /  glossy /   sleek  /   smooth /   luminous  /   lustrous   /   spiky /   stringy    /   shaggy   /   tangled   /   messy    /   windblown (often)   /   unkempt   /   straggly   /  neatly combed  /   parted   /   slicked down   /   tied back   /  slicked back   /   cropped   /   clipped   /   buzzed   /   buzz cut   /  curly   /   bushy  / wavy  /  straight  /   lanky   /   dry   /   oily   /   greasy   /  layers   /  corkscrews /   spirals   /   ringlets   /   braids   /   dreadlocks   /   widow’s peak   /   bald   /   shaved   /   comb-over   /  thick   /   luxuriant   /   voluminous   /   full   /   wild   /   untamed   /   bouncy  /   fine   /   thinning

hair (color):   black   /   blue-black   /   jet black   /   raven   /   ebony   /   inky black   /   midnight   /   sable  /   salt and pepper   /   silver   /   silver gray   /   charcoal gray   /   steel gray   /   white   /   snow-white  /   brown   /   brunette   /   chocolate brown   /   coffee brown   /   ash brown   /   brown sugar   /   nut brown   /   caramel   /   tawny brown   /   toffee brown   /   red   /   ginger   /   auburn   /   copper   /   strawberry blonde   /   butterscotch   /   honey   /   wheat   /   blonde   /   golden   /   sandy blond   /   flaxen   /   fair-haired   /   bleached   /  platinum (( steel blue / highlighted ))

body type:   too tall  / tall  /  average height  /   short  /   petite   /  fits in a locker  /  compact   /   big   /   large   /   burly   /   beefy   /   bulky   /   brawny   /   barrel-chested   /   heavy   /   heavy-set   /   fat   /   overweight   /   obese   /   flabby   /   chunky   /  getting closer to chubby /   pudgy   /   pot-bellied   /   portly   /   thick   /   stout   /   lush   /   plush   /   full-figured   /   ample   /   rounded   /  voluptuous   /   curvy  /   hourglass (SE please)  /   plump   /   soft   /   leggy /   long-legged  /  gangling   /   lanky   /   coltish   /   lissome   /   willowy   /   lithe   /  lean   /   slim   /   slender   /   trim  /   thin   /   skinny   /   emaciated   /   gaunt   /   bony   /   spare   /   solid   /   stocky   /   wiry   /   rangy   /   sinewy   /   stringy  /   ropy   /   sturdy   /   strapping   /   powerful   /   hulking   / fit  /   athletic  /   toned   /   muscular   /   chiseled   /   taut   /   ripped  /   herculean   /   broad-shouldered   /   sloping shoulders   /   bowlegged

hands:    delicate   /   small   /   large   /   square   /   sturdy  /   strong   /   smooth  /   rough  /   calloused   /   elegant   /   plump   /   stubby fingers   /   long fingers   /  crooked   /  gloved   /   ragged nails   /   grimy fingernails   /   ink-stained / burned

Was an interesting little thing to think about considering to describe Taimu in terms of the chosen words. XD really I just sum it up to lost child with a really long resume XD. 

Also headcanon, despite Taimu’s stature and fairness of her skin, her hands isn't as soft as they may look or expect them to be, considering the many roles she tries to fill on a daily basis from War and Magic to Hand and Land. when she realized they were getting close to calloused she got self conscious and started wearing more gloves and or gauntlets to help prevent it. ( she get’s embarrassed a bit if people comment about her hands)

Tagging: @velvetomen, @the-imperial-blade, @rinrin-rinalys, @relnhart and @goldbasar