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bluegiragi · 2 years

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hello! i'm gira, i go by she/her, and i've been making fanart for the cod fandom for about four months now :) the majority of that time's been spent on the soapbox saga, which is sort of just what i call the very plot-ridden porn comic featuring ghost, soap and konig. and recently i've been working on the monster 141 au!

i'm here to address the reasoning behind how i assigned certain monsters to certain characters, particularly the POC characters as well as accusations of racism regarding me neglecting gaz in all my art :) whoever you are, if you're reading this in good faith, i thank you! i earnestly never intended to make anyone feel uncomfortable from my work.

The Monster AU

i won't post the blog who brought this issue up mainly because, (realistically speaking) i think people might go after them and spam them with hate so I'm paraphrasing here. but basically..."how come all the POC in the Monster AU are assigned animal-associated monsters? Comparisons to animals can be incredibly demeaning when it comes to minorities".

I completely agree! But earnestly, I think my desire to assign every character a 'monster' that was relevant to their culture overshadowed the part of my brain that would've raised red flags about this sort of thing. There's the argument here that I could've assigned these characters cooler monsters such as Price who is a dragon, and Ghost who is a wraith, but I wanted to be respectful of all the minorities in the COD cast by giving them creatures that reflected their culture and personality.

ALEJANDRO - NAGUAL

In the Monster AU, Alejandro is a nagual, which is considered a guardian spirit in Mesoamerican culture. Typically, it's said that the nagual is the shapeshifted form that powerful men can transform into in order to do evil (although that doesn't apply in this case, Ale's a heroic lad), and can come in the forms of a jaguar, deer, dog or bird. I chose a jaguar, since it seemed to be the most common form of nagual depiction in the resources I was looking at. The 'panther mode' isn't pre-established as part of nagual mythology, but since most panthers are just black jaguars, i thought the association wouldn't be unreasonable.

I chose Alejandro to be a nagual because it's so in character for him to be protective of his home. The idea of him being a literal guardian spirit for all he considers his just made sense to me :)

RODOLFO (RUDY) - CADEJOS

In this AU, Rudy is the vessel for two cadejos, which are legendary dog spirits popular in the mythology of Central America, parts of South America and Mexico. Historically, they've been known as psychopomps (guides to help humans into the afterlife following their death) but modern interpretation has shifted to depict them as the good guardian dog and the evil attacking dog respectively.

A lot of the minute information about the cadejos tends to differ depending on the source. Like whether they're actually two separate dogs, or they're the same dog just in different 'modes', or how big they are. My personal depiction of them has them sized as normal dogs (although their spirit nature means they can move into small spaces pretty easily by just becoming immaterial temporarily) and as separate spirits that have been passed down through Rudy's family generationally.

I chose the cadejo for Rudy because although I wanted to include him in the Monster AU, i still liked keeping him as a character who was a bit more 'human' than Alejandro. I think Ale needs Rudy to hold him back sometimes, and having the two cadejo definitely helps with that. Sort of like how cheetahs in zoos have therapy dogs growing up because they're so anxious all the time! I think it also does a good job of showing Rudy's two sides as well, like he's a softie who just wants to protect those he loves, but he's capable of a lot of violence too.

VALERIA - GORGON

Valeria is a gorgon which, admittedly, is not part of Mexican mythology. However, I was put in a bit of a bind here, since my research didn't really reveal to me a monster in Mexican culture that I thought would suit Valeria's vibe (manipulative, elulsive) and I just felt like a gorgon would be perfect for her. Medusa's myth has her being continuously demeaned by the men in her life and is a symbol of female empowerment, which I thought was a great reflection of the implied reason that Valeria left the army was due to internal sexism. There's also the perfect parallel of how anyone who sees El Sin Nombre's face dies, and Medusa's whole 'turn you to stone' thing.

I thought i could compromise by making Valeria a gorgon but her hair would be Mexican black kingsnakes but...turns out they're actually not that dangerous. Some people even keep them as pets! So I decided to keep the visual, but make her a pit viper, a subfamily of vipers found in the Americas as well as Eurasia.

HORANGI - HAETAE

Horangi is a haetae (해태) which is a beast in Korean mythology that typically comes in the form of a horned lion or dog. It's prevalent in a lot of cultures in East Asia actually, although it goes under different names depending on the region - kaichi for Japan, xiezhi for China. I made Horangi a tiger variant on the creature because...well...'horangi' means 'tiger' in korean. It just made sense to me to put that little twist on it.

Typically, haetae are seen as spirits of judgement, that decide on innocent and guilty parties in disputes and punish the latter. It's also considered a guardian against fire (hence the fire immunity and cloud manipulation powers I gave him).

GAZ - HARPY

Gaz is a harpy which, I won't lie, was purely inspired by the fact that he seems to keep falling out of helicopters. But it's also because...yeah, I did neglect Gaz in the soapbox saga. But I think I neglected...everyone in the soapbox saga who weren't directly involved in the main ship. I sort of just tunnel visioned on the main three, so my exclusion of characters isn't just limited to Gaz, it was included Price, Laswell, Alejandro, Rudy, Graves etc.

I just want to make clear that my treatment of Gaz in particular isn't reflective of any inner preference against him. And to make good on that, me assigning Gaz wings of all things was to help me spend more time on him in the Monster AU! I think the contrast between Gaz being an upstart harpy, and Price being a one-winged dragon has a lot of potential as a mentor/protege relationship (and perhaps even something more) and it's why I assigned this monster to him. I really wanted to establish a connection upfront, but just making Gaz another dragon felt cheap - the harpy thing felt a little more in turn with his character :)

I really hope this cleared up any remaining frustrations with my designs for the Monster AU. I hope you can see that I never meant anything demeaning by assigning these monsters to their respective characters - in fact, I earnestly tried to go out of my way and be respectful to their backgrounds.

In any case, if you have any more questions I'd be happy to answer them - I'd just ask you to please ask politely :)

#gira speaks #monster 141 au

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mariacallous · 4 months

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Climate denial may be on the decline, but a phenomenon at least as injurious to the cause of climate protection has blossomed beside it: doomism, or the belief that there’s no way to halt the Earth’s ascendant temperatures. Burgeoning ranks of doomers throw up their hands, crying that it’s too late, too hard, too costly to save humanity from near-future extinction.

There are numerous strands of doomism. The followers of ecologist Guy McPherson, for example, gravitate to wild conspiracy theories that claim humanity won’t last another decade. Many young people, understandably overwhelmed by negative climate headlines and TikTok videos, are convinced that all engagement is for naught. Even the Guardian, which boasts superlative climate coverage, sometimes publishes alarmist articles and headlines that exaggerate grim climate projections.

This gloom-and-doomism robs people of the agency and incentive to participate in a solution to the climate crisis. As a writer on climate and energy, I am convinced that we have everything we require to go carbon neutral by 2050: the science, the technology, the policy proposals, and the money, as well as an international agreement in which nearly 200 countries have pledged to contain the crisis. We don’t need a miracle or exorbitantly expensive nuclear energy to stave off the worst. The Gordian knot before us is figuring out how to use the resources we already have in order to make that happen.

One particularly insidious form of doomism is exhibited in Kohei Saito’s Slow Down: The Degrowth Manifesto, originally published in 2020 and translated from Japanese into English this year. In his unlikely international bestseller, Saito, a Marxist philosopher, puts forth the familiar thesis that economic growth and decarbonization are inherently at odds. He goes further, though, and speculates that the climate crisis can only be curbed in a classless, commons-based society. Capitalism, he writes, seeks to “use all the world’s resources and labor power, opening new markets and never passing up even the slightest chance to make more money.”

Capitalism’s record is indeed damning. The United States and Europe are responsible for the lion’s share of the world’s emissions since the onset of the Industrial Revolution, yet the global south suffers most egregiously from climate breakdown. Today, the richest tenth of the world’s population—living overwhelmingly in the global north and China—is responsible for half of global emissions. If the super-rich alone cut their footprints down to the size of the average European, global emissions would fall by a third, Saito writes.

Saito’s self-stated goals aren’t that distinct from mine: a more egalitarian, sustainable, and just society. One doesn’t have to be an orthodox Marxist to find the gaping disparities in global income grotesque or to see the restructuring of the economy as a way to address both climate breakdown and social injustice. But his central argument—that climate justice can’t happen within a market economy of any kind—is flawed. In fact, it serves next to no purpose because more-radical-than-thou theories remove it from the nuts-and-bolts debate about the way forward.

We already possess a host of mechanisms and policies that can redistribute the burdens of climate breakdown and forge a path to climate neutrality. They include carbon pricing, wealth and global transaction taxes, debt cancellation, climate reparations, and disaster risk reduction, among others. Economies regulated by these policies are a distant cry from neoliberal capitalism—and some, particularly in Europe, have already chalked up marked accomplishments in reducing emissions.

Saito himself acknowledges that between 2000 and 2013, Britain’s GDP increased by 27 percent while emissions fell by 9 percent and that Germany and Denmark also logged decoupling. He writes off this trend as exclusively the upshot of economic stagnation following the Lehman Brothers bankruptcy in 2008. However, U.K. emissions have continued to fall, plummeting from 959 million to 582 million metric tons of carbon dioxide equivalent between 2007 and 2020. The secret to Britain’s success, which Saito doesn’t mention, was the creation of a booming wind power sector and trailblazing carbon pricing system that forced coal-fired plants out of the market practically overnight. Nor does Saito consider that from 1990 to 2022, the European Union reduced its emissions by 31 percent while its economy grew by 66 percent.

Climate protection has to make strides where it can, when it can, and experts acknowledge that it’s hard to change consumption patterns—let alone entire economic systems—rapidly. Progress means scaling back the most harmful types of consumption and energy production. It is possible to do this in stages, but it needs to be implemented much faster than the current plodding pace.

This is why Not the End of the World: How We Can Be the First Generation to Build a Sustainable Planet by Hannah Ritchie, a data scientist at the University of Oxford, is infinitely more pertinent to the public discourse on climate than Saito’s esoteric work. Ritchie’s book is a noble attempt to illustrate that environmental protection to date boasts impressive feats that can be built on, even as the world faces what she concedes is an epic battle to contain greenhouse gases.

Ritchie underscores two environmental afflictions that humankind solved through a mixture of science, smart policy, and international cooperation: acid rain and ozone depletion. I’m old enough to remember the mid-1980s, when factories and power plants spewed out sulfurous and nitric emissions and acid rain blighted forests from the northeastern United States to Eastern Europe. Acidic precipitation in the Adirondacks, my stomping grounds at the time, decimated pine forests and mountain lakes, leaving ghostly swaths of dead timber. Then, scientists pinpointed the industries responsible, and policymakers designed a cap-and-trade system that put a price on their emissions, which forced industry into action; for example, power plants had to fit scrubbers on their flue stacks. The harmful pollutants dropped by 80 percent by the end of the decade, and forests grew back.

The campaign to reverse the thinning of the ozone layer also bore fruit. An international team of scientists deduced that man-made chlorofluorocarbons (CFC) in fridges, freezers, air conditioners, and aerosol cans were to blame. Despite fierce industry pushback, more than 40 countries came together in Montreal in 1987 to introduce a staggered ban on CFCs. Since then, more countries joined the Montreal Protocol, and CFCs are now largely a relic of the past. As Ritchie points out, this was the first international pact of any kind to win the participation of every nation in the world.

While these cases instill inspiration, Ritchie’s assessment of our current crisis is a little too pat and can veer into the Panglossian. The climate crisis is many sizes larger in scope than the scourges of the 1980s, and its antidote—to Saito’s credit—entails revamping society and economy on a global scale, though not with the absolutist end goal of degrowth communism.

Ritchie doesn’t quite acknowledge that a thoroughgoing restructuring is necessary. Although she does not invoke the term, she is an acolyte of “green growth.” She maintains that tweaks to the world’s current economic system can improve the living standards of the world’s poorest, maintain the global north’s level of comfort, and achieve global net zero by 2050. “Economic growth is not incompatible with reducing our environmental impact,” she writes. For her, the big question is whether the world can decouple growth and emissions in time to stave off the darkest scenarios.

Ritchie approaches today’s environmental disasters—air pollution, deforestation, carbon-intensive food production, biodiversity loss, ocean plastics, and overfishing—as problems solvable in ways similar to the crises of the 1980s. Like CFCs and acid rain, so too can major pollutants such as black carbon and carbon monoxide be reined in. Ritchie writes that the “solution to air pollution … follows just one basic principle: stop burning stuff.” As she points out, smart policy has already enhanced air quality in cities such as Beijing (Warsaw, too, as a recent visit convinced me), and renewable energy is now the cheapest form of power globally. What we have to do, she argues, is roll renewables out en masse.

The devil is in making it happen. Ritchie admits that environmental reforms must be accelerated many times over, but she doesn’t address how to achieve this or how to counter growing pushback against green policies. Just consider the mass demonstrations across Europe in recent months as farmers have revolted against the very measures for which Ritchie (correctly) advocates, such as cutting subsidies to diesel gas, requiring crop rotation, eliminating toxic pesticides, and phasing down meat production. Already, the farmers’ vehemence has led the EU to dilute important legislation on agriculture, deforestation, and biodiversity.

Ritchie’s admonishes us to walk more, take public transit, and eat less beef. Undertaken individually, this won’t change anything. But she acknowledges that sound policy is key—chiefly, economic incentives to steer markets and consumer behavior. Getting the right parties into office, she writes, should be voters’ priority.

Yet the parties fully behind Ritchie’s agenda tend to be the Green parties, which are largely in Northern Europe and usually garner little more than 10 percent of the vote. Throughout Europe, environmentalism is badmouthed by center-right and far-right politicos, many of whom lead or participate in governments, as in Finland, Hungary, Italy, the Netherlands, Serbia, Slovakia, and Sweden. And while she argues that all major economies must adopt carbon pricing like the EU’s cap-and-trade system, she doesn’t address how to get the United States, the world’s second-largest emitter, to introduce this nationwide or even expand its two carbon markets currently operating regionally—one encompassing 12 states on the East Coast, the other in California.

History shows that the best way to make progress in the battle to rescue our planet is to work with what we have and build on it. The EU has a record of exceeding and revising its emissions reduction targets. In the 1990s, the bloc had the modest goal of sinking greenhouse gases to 8 percent below 1990 levels by 2008-12; by 2012, it had slashed them by an estimated 18 percent. More recently, the 2021 European Climate Law adjusted the bloc’s target for reducing net greenhouse gas emissions from 40 percent to at least 55 percent by 2030, and the European Commission is considering setting the 2040 target to 90 percent below 1990 levels.

This process can’t be exclusively top down. By far the best way for everyday citizens to counter climate doomism is to become active beyond individual lifestyle choices—whether that’s by bettering neighborhood recycling programs, investing in clean tech equities, or becoming involved in innovative clean energy projects.

Take, for example, “community energy,” which Saito considers briefly and Ritchie misses entirely. In the 1980s, Northern Europeans started to cobble together do-it-yourself cooperatives, in which citizens pooled money to set up renewable energy generation facilities. Many of the now more than 9,000 collectives across the EU are relatively small—the idea is to stay local and decentralized—but larger co-ops illustrate that this kind of enterprise can function at scale. For example, Belgium’s Ecopower, which forgoes profit and reinvests in new energy efficiency and renewables projects, provides 65,000 members with zero-carbon energy at a reduced price.

Grassroots groups and municipalities are now investing in nonprofit clean energy generation in the United States, particularly in California and Minnesota. This takes many forms, including solar fields; small wind parks; electricity grids; and rooftop photovoltaic arrays bolted to schools, parking lots, and other public buildings. Just as important as co-ownership—in contrast to mega-companies’ domination of the fossil fuel market—is democratic decision-making. These start-ups, usually undertaken by ordinary citizens, pry the means of generation out of the hands of the big utilities, which only grudgingly alter their business models.

Around the world, the transition is in progress—and ideally, could involve all of us. The armchair prophets of doom should either join in or, at the least, sit on the sidelines quietly. The last thing we need is more people sowing desperation and angst. They play straight into the court of the fossil fuel industry.

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afghanbarbie · 6 months

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The sex-based apartheid against women in Afghanistan cannot be reduced to, "Afghan men saw Afghan women enjoying freedom and got mad, so they established extremist religious governments to stop it." I am really tired of seeing this misconception and oversimplification spread around by leftists, liberals and feminists – it's racist, and simply not fucking true.

The majority of Afghans want a secular government and for the oppression of women to end. The Taliban represent a minority of Afghanistan's people. The deterioration of Afghan society – in particular, women's rights and freedoms – directly results from decades of foreign intervention, imperialism and occupation. Afghans did not destroy Afghanistan, the United States did, and the USSR paved the way for them to do so.

Had Afghanistan never been treated like a pawn in the games played by imperialistic powers, had we not been reduced to resources, strategic importance and a tool for weakening the enemy, extremism would have never come to power.

An overview of Afghanistan's recent history:

The USSR wanted to incorporate Afghanistan into Soviet Central Asia and did so by sabotaging indigenous Afghan communist movements and replacing our leaders with those loyal to the USSR. The United States began funding and training Islamic extremists – the Mujahideen – to fight against the Soviet influence and subsequent invasion, and to help the CIA suppress any indigenous Afghan leftist movements. Those Mujahideen won the war, and then spent the next decade fighting for absolute control over Afghanistan.

During that time period, known as the Afghan Civil War, the Mujahideen became warlords, each enforcing their own laws on the regions they controlled. Kabul was nearly destroyed, and the chaos, destruction and death was largely ignored by the United States despite being the ones who caused and empowered it. This civil war era created the perfect, unstable environment needed to give a fringe but strong group like the Taliban a chance to rise to power. And after two decades of war, a singular entity taking control and bringing 'peace' was enticing to all Afghans, even if their views were objectively more extreme than what we had been enduring up to that point.

When the United States invaded Afghanistan in 2001, they allied with the same warlords that had been destroying our country the decade prior and whom they had rallied against the Soviets – these are the people that made up the Northern Alliance. The 'good guys' that America gave us were rapists, pillagers, and violent extremists, no better than the Taliban. And that's not even mentioning the horrible atrocities and war crimes committed by American forces themselves.

So, no, Afghan men did not collectively wake up one day and decide that women had too much freedom and rush to establish an extremist government overnight. No, this is not to excuse the misogyny of men in our society – the extremists had to already exist for Americans to fund and arm them against the Soviets – but rather to redirect the bulk of this racist blame to the actual culprits. The religious extremism and sex-based apartheid would not be oppressing and murdering us today if they hadn't been funded and supported by the United States of America thirty years ago. And despite all the abuses and restrictions, many Afghan women prefer the Taliban's current government to another American occupation. I felt safer walking in Taliban-controlled Kabul than I did being 'randomly searched' (sexually assaulted) by American military police in my village as a child.

Imperialism is inextricably linked with patriarchal violence and women's oppression. You cannot talk about the deterioration of Afghanistan without talking about the true cause of said decline: The United States of America. Americans of all political views, including leftists and feminists, are guilty of reducing or outright ignoring Western responsibility for female oppression in the Global South, finding it much easier to place all blame on the foreign brown man or our supposedly backwards, savage cultures, when the most responsibility belongs with Western governments and their meddling games that forced the most violent misogynists among us into power.

(Most of this information comes from my own experience living as an Afghan Hazara woman in Afghanistan, but Bleeding Afghanistan: Washington, Warlords and the Propaganda of Silence covers this in much more detail. If you want more on the Soviet-Afghan war and Afghanistan's socialist history, Revolutionary Afghanistan is an English-language source from a more leftist perspective)

#afghanistan #taliban #anti imperialism #feminism #radfem safe #america is a terrorist state #america is a failed state #global south #western imperialism #hazara genocide

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leo-muscle · 7 months

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I’ve heard a little bit about this King Leon guy. Who does he think he is to call himself a king? Seems far to pretentious if you ask me. I wouldn’t be caught dead bowing to someone like that. Not in a million years.

Sure I’m the most basic looking white dude on the planet. My face gets lost in the crowd and my body is light enough to be blown by a breeze. But a king can’t change that, and I would like to see him or any of his subjects try to.

"Are you sure about that?" The bartender told you. You had just arrived on your vacation in Haiti, and the resort's bartender had decided to strike up a conversation with you over drinks. He was enormous, seven feet of pure surfer boy muscle, with a thick gut that was the very picture of strength. He would have been the most beautiful man you had ever seen, if you weren't in the middle of a massive rant.

"Oh, absolutely." You continued. "Whoever these 'kings' are, I don't want anything to do with 'em. Who are they to declare rule over the entire world, and who are we to listen to them?"

It was true, of course. Much of Africa, the British Isles, Central America, and even the islands you were now in had been united under the rule of these Kings. While many praised them for their novel social reforms and exponential increase to quality of life in their domains, many others, yourself included, remained attached to the old ways. Even this vacation was a scouting trip, to see if whatever propaganda these Kings were putting out was true.

"On the contrary, my friend, I am perfectly happy to listen to the rule of my King. You should have seen this island before King Kai came here. Homelessness, poverty... it's all been amended since he arrived."

"Really?" You asked, taking a big swig of your drink, savoring its tingle on your lips. "And NO one's uncomfortable being ruled by just one person?"

"People love King Kai. He is kind and just, like any good king should be. You'll see that soon enough." The bartender said.

"What do you mean by that?" You asked, your heart racing.

"Oh, nothing much. Just give it a few seconds."

"What are you-- UGH!" You doubled over, your skin on fire with a sensation entirely alien to you.

The bartender walked out from behind the bar, and soon, his magical hands went to work. With his kingly essence in your system, you could be molded into a respectable citizen of the world.

He started with your pecs, cupping them from behind as they burst through your tropical shirt with new strength. They were enormous, voluptuous pillows, jiggling with muscle and a thin layer of fat.

He then moved his hands along your shoulders, pumping them into cannonballs of strength. The moment his hands reached your arms, they pulled and pushed, leaving your twiggy biceps and forearms as but a fleeting memory, replacing them with pulsing, powerful cannons of strength. In awe, you flexed your right arm, forming a mound easily as big as a baseball if not more.

You moaned softly as King Kai's beautiful hands lightly traced a six-pack onto your stomach, each ab popping into existence, forming an impenetrable wall of strength.

Soon, his hands navigated south, one massive hand palming your flat ass, while the other grabbed your tiny three-inch cock. You moaned, long, low, and hard as both of his hands began to move out from your body, pulling your cock and ass with them. Your cheeks rounded out into a big, bouncy bubble butt, bigger than most women's. It shook with strength and sexuality with every slight movement you made, much like your cock, which had grown so big with the King's touch that no pair of pants could conceal your enormous bulge. His touch was electric on your shaft, causing you to pre almost endlessly.

Your mind was in heaven as he continued to your legs. Your cock was at full mast at its enormous eleven inches as he took his hands to your legs, and blew them up into corded steel pillars as big as any christmas ham. You moaned, your cock firing blanks as he looked you deep into your eyes, placing one hand to completely cover your currently-unchanged face.

"As much as I love my people, we cannot be a global community if all my citizens are homogenous." King Kai said. "Hmm, where should I send you..."

Your skin flickered through thousands of shades in a single moment, before settling on a tone a few shades darker than your original. Your hair darkened to black, and you instantly sprouted a thick dark mustache, and a chinstrap beard to match. Your eyes became narrower and monolid, your stare intensifying into a sexy smolder. As King Kai leaned in and kissed you, your bulk increased, and your muscle became padded with a thin sexy layer of fat.

"Cum." King Kai commanded you, his voice sexy enough to send you over the edge.

You had been reborn, a Vietnamese stud in the Carribean. Your brain was aflame with new neurons, making connections faster and better than ever before. You knew you had been improved, in every conceivable way. You were stronger, smarter, wiser, and you had no one but your new king to thank.

#male tf #male transformation #race change #muscle bear #bear tf #jock tf #pec growth #butt growth #asian tf #mental change #kings of the world

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draconesmundi · 2 months

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What species of dragons are found in Africa? What clades do they belong to?

ooo so I was wanting to do a Smaugust Post about this but I was unsure how, so I'll just reply to this question with 12 very rushed dragon doodles...

(edit; to be clear this is in my creative project Dracones Mundi, not 'real dragons' or a comprehensive list of mythology. Dragon designs inspired by mythology)

Click the 'keep reading' to learn more!

West African Rainbow Serpent (Dracovermidae: Afroserpens iris)

This dragon is specifically a 'west African rainbow serpent' to differentiate been this and the Australian rainbow serpent. The West African Rainbow Serpent is based on West African folklore (Vodun tradition among other things, deities such as Ayedo Wedo etc.) and the physical design is based on an art sculpture of Ayedo Wedo a friend sent me a picture of (black head, white neck collar) + some snakes I like (spots with dark rims) + rainbow gradient.

Grootslang (Dracovermidae: Afroserpens magnus)

A gigantic dragon with diamond eyes said to live in caves under South Africa - looking into South African caves to discover there are vast bodies of water in huge caves was an experience - the above design is a loose idea, the final Grootslang for the Dracones Mundi project may look different...

Elephant Eating Serpent (Dracovermidae: Afroserpens aethiopicus)

Based on bestiaries saying 'big serpents in Africa wrap elephants in their coils'.

Chicken Headed Serpent (Afroserpens gallocephallus)

I might merge this design with the existing cockatrice design (see further below), only time will tell...

Nile Serpent? (Dracovermidae: Dracovermis hydra)

Huge serpent found in the Nile, and in the Mediterranean. Inspiration for Apep/Apophis in Egypt, but also for the Hydra in Greece.

Congan Plated Dragon (Testudracidae: Stegosuchus monstrum)

Large dragon that lives in the Congo Basin - inspired by Mokele Mbembe, Emele Ntouka and Mblieu Mblieu Mblieu

Dinodrakes (Drakonidae: Dinodrako...? )

Silly dragon I put on Madagascar - not inspired by folklore, these are just funny dinosaur inspired dragons. Mr Razzledazzle and his beautiful big wife.

Green Wyvern (Megaviperidae: Megavipera virida)

Based on Europeans slapping a little green dragon on maps of Africa for 'Aethiopia', 'here be dragons'. Also this is Saint George's dragon, so in versions of the legend where the saint fights the dragon in Libya I decided to put the green wyvern in Libya. Green wyverns therefore have a wide distribution in Dracones Mundi as Saint George has fought the dragon throughout North Africa, the Middle East and Europe.

Kongomato (Megaviperidae: ?)

A swimming dragon that lives in Zambia - it can grab boats with it's powerful jaws, swim with it's powerful tail and has huge wings. I am not certain on this final design, working on it...

Cockatrice (Medaviperidae: Basilliskos gallimimus)

CHICKEN DRAGON. Very deadly. Found throughout the world, including Africa.

Jaculus (Megaviperidae: Pteraserpens jaculus)

Jaculus, the javeline serpent, can fly at intense speeds, stabbing prey with it's sharp face.

Terrorsaur (Megaviperidae: Pteroserpens...?)

Silly dragon based on "what if janky cartoony green pterodactyls are dragons?" and then I found a lot of cryptozoology places 'pterosaurs' in central Africa. Playing with this concept, nothing solid yet.

...

There are some other African dragons that I'm not sure about including - Ninki Nanka is something I have had on my radar for a while but I could not find enough info on it to write or draw something (recently looked it up again and there is more info wow... Okay next draft will include Ninki Nanka!!!!)

and Akhekhu which I had in a previous draft then abandonned. Might put him back in. Not sure if he's dragony enough?

So in this current roster of African dragons we have 6 inspired by African folklore and mythology (Grootslang, Rainbow Serpent, Nile Serpent, Congan Plated Dragon, Kongomato, Chicken Headed Serpent) 4 inspired by European mythology saying 'this lives in Africa' (Cockatrice, Green wyvern, Jaculus, Elephant Eating Serpent) and 2 I made up just for fun (Dinodrakes and Terrorsaurs)

#Smaugust #Dracones Mundi #Dragons #Asks #Africa

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starfishstark · 2 months

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MOONLIGHT

SYNOPSIS The moment tribals heard of a rumor of an outsider inhabiting their planet, Kaibre volunteered to find this man, see if he was a threat to their people or if coexistence was viable. With their blooming friendship, will they become more or will Kaibre find out about his dark origins...

PAIRING qimir x tribal! reader, reader uses the name Kaibre (i cannot write using y/n sorry chat!), reader uses she/her pronouns, the reader has a kid (rhysin my beloved)

WARNINGS 4.7K words, fluff so far, very mild descriptions of violence

pt 1

There’s someone else on the beach…

Word spreads ridiculously fast on Bal'demnic. Even between the coastal tribe to the river tribe, and even back to the mountain tribe driven in solitude with their forever warm underground pools filled with steam and the sound of laughter and prayers all night long. Even more from a single rumor, everything is exposed.

Kaibre assumes, sure, it’s easier, when a single rumor about a crush becomes a marriage proposal in the course of a week. Why bother hiding attraction? Just propose, and if they say no, go sing melancholy songs to the moons above, and sit in your corner of the lagoon for while till you no longer feel so worrisome over something so trivial. If they say yes, grin like a madman and get married that night in front of the black sands, a cortosis thread tied around their neck, and the high moons. On Bal'demnic, when word spreads, it spreads fast.

When the morning scouts went on their early rounds, they noticed the disturbance in the waves. It was a little irk in the back of their heads, making them tread lightly until one of the boys caught sight of another person on the beach. An outsider!! On their little planet?!

Within the nightfall of the second day, everyone in the tribe harbored anxious thoughts about what to do next. As the closest tribe to the outsider, the stranger, on their lands, they were expected to take care of it. Word had started to reach the other tribes, and the coastal tribe would soon need to find out whether this stranger was here to harm them or not. The little kids of course thought nothing but another face to play along with, and maybe a stranger with no responsibilities would have more time to toss them up into the air while they giggled their little hearts out.

“Tell me again, what did you see…”

Everytime, the story was the same. There was the stranger in one of the lagoons further north, he limped into the pool, and he had a bag of belongings with him. In the distance, one of those space ships rested peacefully on a small island off the coast.

And everyone wanted to hear the story. Of course, when words spread, it’s not always true.

“He had scars littering his body. He’s taller than the anyone in the entire tribe! He was bleeding out his side, limping for relief to the warm lagoon, like someone had maimed him! Bested him, even! Perhaps he’s in exile, all for killing little naughty children who don’t listen to their mothers…!”

Once the sun had set, and the moons started to align again in the lunar solstice of every night, the warriors and workers of the tribe alike gathered around the central fire. Whispers of the stranger slaughtered the silence, he was a myth and legend all the same. There has been no outsider in Bal’demnic for generations.

“Silence!” Icar swished his long robe in a singular motion, letting the quiet settle throughout the crowd around the fire. Their northern coastal tribe was small, many opting to move to the south for the plentiful resources, but the ones still here remained for the sand rich in cortosis, the metal their ancestors settled here for. Powerful to the breathing heart of this planet. That said, there weren’t all that many workers and warriors around the fire, but enough that the instant silence spoke measures to how much respect Icar wielded in the tribe. “I assume we all know of the situation at hand. I am not to waste time, but we must send someone to actually see this stranger on our planet…on our beaches…”

Icar looked up expectantly from his stare at the fire. There was a wash of agreements from the people around, some people automatically raising their hands and volunteering.

“No, no warriors, we cannot seem as a threat before we know how powerful this stranger is. He could have more with him. No, no we cannot send a stranger immediately, our safest option is someone more…flexible. Unassuming. We need to show the tolerance for co-existence if they come in peace. Able to collect information, and for the worst path…someone our tribe is mendable to be without. I’m sorry, but we cannot afford to lose a head warrior if this is a legitimate threat.”

Instant groans and protests sounded from the head warriors seated next to Kaibre, one of them even getting up and ready to argue with Icar before Icar shot him a hot look.

“I can do it.”

The head warriors turned to look at Kaibre with a curious look, like they didn’t even notice her at the meetings.

Icar looked at her with a pained expression, shaking his head, “Kaibre, you have a son.”

“The- the people will watch over him.” Not gonna lie, Kaibre forgot about that for a moment she volunteered. But she didn’t feel like this stranger was going to kill her, and people like Kaibre have knack for getting things like this right. “No child goes without here.”

It takes a village to raise a child, that much was true. If Kaibre was to drop dead the next second, her son would not go without being taken care of. Without being fed, without a roof over his head, even if he might be alone in the hut Kaibre built by herself, 3 months pregnant with him. But even then, the children will come and go in their hut, he will stay with the people, and he will find his place among them.

“But you have just had a son, it’s been barely 4 cycles.” Icar reminded her, watching her carefully.

“I…don’t believe this stranger will kill me.”

The tribals went silent again, holding their breaths.

Kaibre was sensitive to the air, the kids used to say. She could always tell if one of them was lying about where they all really were. Even when she was a kid, she could tell when one of her friends would become sick the next day. She would always give her food away for the hunter and warriors who went hungry too soon too fast, like she could tell that night they would be bountiful in their hunt and bring back the food she had given away tenfold.

And even now, everyone held their breath to the girl who could feel what was wrong in the air. Their attention made her squirm in her seat, trying to focus on Icar, who was looking at her with furrowed eyebrows, but resolved in his decision.

“Are you sure? Rhysin only has one mother. One guardian.”

Her eyes focused in on the movement of the fire, swallowing her fear and trying to commit herself to this. When her eyes met Icars’ again, he knew her answer.

“You will leave one rotation from now, when the sun sets, take a cortosis blade with you for protection, and a bag of warm supper for amity.”

Kaibre nods, barely able to keep in her excitement of going out of the village again. She hadn’t been out like this in 4 cycles.

The next day goes by in a hurry, with Kaibre prepping her eyes with the dark ashes in a clay pot for seeing in the night, strapping a cortosis blade flat to her thigh, hidden by the ruffles of a white skirt. Her black drape lays artfully on her, even earning her a “Pretty Ammi!” from Rhysin when she sees her getting ready. She laughs, picking up her little boy and kissing both his cheeks, before telling him to run off to Lysa’s house for the night, her close friend.

She sees Icar one last time where he hands her a bag full of food, enough to feed two and a clear sign of appeasement. Giving her one last nod, he sends her off before the moons align that night.

The trek to the northern lagoons is not difficult usually, but with her watching every step in the darkness, and carrying all that food, it takes the breath from her just a little. However, the energy returns to her the second she sees the trail of smoke coming from an opening in the nearby cave system adjacent to the lagoons. Her breath catches, and she carefully treads on the rocks leading her to the cave opening.

She hears the whirs and revs of machinery, oh she hasn’t seen any her entire life, and peers from behind a rock wall to see the stranger…

They were right, he bleeding out his side. How did Lysa even come up with a lie that clever and accurate? Even from where she was standing, she could see the slight way he preferred to his left side, with the hint of bandages under his loose shirt.

Wow, he’s wearing a shirt…

She hasn’t seen a shirt except one time she dreamt of one, and once when she saw it in a what they call a magazine in the mountain tribe from years ago.

He had skin paler than those in the tribe, almost like someone washed him in milk compared to her own wood toned skin. His hair covered the back of his neck, hanging low in front of his face, covering it from his view, but she picked up on hooded eyes narrowed in on what he was melding.

She looked around the room, staying behind that wall keeping her from his view. It didn’t look like that of someone aggressive.

“You know, you don’t have to hide behind that wall.”

Kriff…

She leaned from the edge of the wall again, peering at the stranger all over again. He was relaxed, and open with his posture. Hunched just a little in his seat, with his lips tugging at an easy going smile.

“Do you speak Aurebesh?” He asked patiently while Kaibre stepped completely out of the shadows, standing with arm against the rock wall.

She nodded, unsure what to say after being caught so blatantly, and not more than a minute she had been there. Was she losing her touch?

“I apologize for disturbing your planet…It was recorded as uninhabited and uninhabitable. It wasn’t until I landed that I realized how ridiculously outdated that was.”

Kaibre nods unsurely, slowly - towards him and stands closer to him. “Why are you here?”

“I- uhm,” He looks taken back by the question, unsure what to answer. “Refuge. I’m, uh, searching for somewhere safe. To live, away from…all that out there.” He gestured vaguely to the stars, visible in the openings of the cave. Awful cave to be in really, absolutely useless in the rain season. “I don’t plan on hurting anyone.” To emphasize his point, he raises his open palms as a pseudo-surrender.

She relaxes, getting closer to him curiously, dropping her bag carefully before taking another step and lurching forward to cup his face with both hands.

“You look like the mountain people…” She trailed off, rubbing her thumb on his cheekbone inquisitively, as if she thought it would wipe off. Her fingers touched his hair, wondering how it was so straight on him.

It was a common greetings between tribes meeting once in a decade of rotations, just to see how different the people looked between tribes, but Kaibre was unaware how sudden it seemed to him.

“Uh….what are you doing?” He asked quietly, watching her attentively but taken off guard with how curious she was. He didn’t move her off though, a small piece of him enjoying the innocent curious touch as opposed to the violent, brash, and fleeting touch he’d escaped. Her hands were warm against his cool face, and he looked right at her, trying to meet her eyes. He breathed out softly, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Kaibre from the northern coast tribe.” She tilted her head in the same way his was tilted, her lips turning into a smile when she saw the way he started to chuckle at the same time. Kaibre noticed his hands slowly covered her own on his face. “What are you called?”

“Qimir,” he answered immediately. “I promise I’m no threat to your people…So long as they don’t hurt me…”

“Where are you from…?”

“Coruscant,” He answered in the same quiet voice, like being too loud would scare her away. Quimir squinted at her, taking in the embellishments on her ears, like little bells. Really, how did she manage to be that quiet with those on her? Her hair was pulled back into a complex braid, leaving stray hairs on the nape of neck and at the edges of her hairline.

Kaibre nodded, feeling satisfied with the way she scrutinized him as a person, and stepped back, slipping her hands from under his. She picked up the bag from the ground, holding it out to him like an offering. “A gift. We did not know if you were able to catch any food.”

He smile turned lazy, looking at her in sincere gratitude. “Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve missed good food…”

They sat on the ground next to each other, with Qimir asking what each food was called and nothing less than melting at each bite he took in his right hand. After the first two times Kaibre slapped away his left hand when he went to go grab something new, he quickly learned he had to eat with the right hand or nothing else.

Kaibre still noticed how he preferred his left side. “What happened?” If he was attacked, he could be tracked, and if he was tracked, he could lead trouble right to her little planet.

“I got in a mixup with some spice traders. Not to worry, they won’t follow me here if that’s what you’re worried about.”

That’s…exactly what she was worried about. How did he know that?

She nodded slowly, pulling out the grain drink from inside the bag, handing it over to him. Qimir squinted at first, looking at her with apprehension with the first time, eyes flickering between the weird substance and her expecting face.

“Uh…what is that?”

“It’s sathu, drink up, you’ll heal fast.”

“I can heal with some bacta, really, it’s fine—”

“Sathu is refined and prepared for hours, you know how much work goes into this?”

He looked at it again, his face betraying his thoughts. “Do I have to?”

She looked at him expectantly, nudging it forward again. Kaibre, single mother of a toddler, nailed down the ‘don’t make me ask twice’ look ages ago. Qimir stood no chance.

He sighed, taking it from her hands, smelling it questionably, and took a sip. However, catching the window she had, she held her hand under the cup, pushing and pushing till he finished the whole drink.

Once he finished, he shot her a grumpy look, maybe aiming for angry, but all she could see was the little brown sathu stache that clung to his actual stache. She nodded, happy that he finished the whole drink without spilling any. “Good, good boy, you finished the whole thing.”

Qimir looked like he might have choked on something, nodding again, and looked at the wrapped up food. He hesitantly looked out the cave. “Is it really ok for you to walk back alone?”

“You came to the forest, I was raised in it,” Kaibre smiled proudly, gathering the leaves and putting them in the bag again.

“Will you come by again?” He asked casually, eyes averted as he stands up.

She thought about it. “It depends on what the people decide on. We might negotiate terms for coexistence, maybe even cooperation between us.”

Qimir just smiled.

Qimir thought about the strange woman he met. She came just up to his collarbone, with long hair swept up into a intricate braid, and dark lining around her round eyes, making them stand out when she studied him those few long minutes. The way her hands felt cupping his face and rubbing against his skin like the color might scrub off if she did it too hard.

And then the food she shared with him. No one told the tribals to do that, but they took it upon themselves. Now Qimir is no fool, they’re trying to prevent animosity in the future for sure, and he felt no aggression coming from the womans’ ridiculously untrained force signature.

He felt her energy from a hundred feet away, his face perking up at it. At first, he thought it was a group of many people traveling together, maybe for a battle. It was only when she got closer that Qimir realized it was one person. One force sensitive person. Incredible. Really, how did the Jedi not detect her?

He could almost feel tendrils of the force nudge against his mental walls, trying to poke and prod a guess of what he was like. Of course, she wasn’t even aware that’s what she was doing. He had to have her, had to teach her, he could feel the urge tugging at him the second she left.

She’ll be back… Qimir reassured himself. He could still remember the second she stepped from behind the wall, white ruffled skirt, and a black shawl draping as a top, leaving her shoulders exposed and a sliver of her hip.

Kaibre, hm? Bal’demnic, oh what a perfect place for refuge…

As the rotations flew by, Qimir became a friend to the Bal’demnic people. Kaibre communicated rules to him, and he accepted, more than happy that they were willing to share the space with them. Kaibre made the walk up to his caves more than once a week, to either bring food, or at his request to help with carving out the space in his caves. In return for the food, he would trade the village for some of the things he brought from outside the planet. He would leave maybe once a month to go run for supplies, and in that time he would return with dozens of pelts and waterskins, and sometimes gifts he saved to trade with later for.

But she would lying if she said she only went up there as often to trade. She found solstice in the quiet companionship beyond the village, given the little artificial light he had set up around the cave, technology she had never seen before. They could take forever in front of the false sun, until the moons had long aligned and she realized she had to head back to Rhysin before morning. She realized that Qimir preferred her company as well, asking if she would return everytime she left.

“Qimir?” Kaibre called out, carrying millets and grain in her bag. She looked around the cave, setting down the bag in it’s usual spot. “Where did you go?”

He could be in the lagoon maybe, but it was unusual at this time. After the sun set? Likely not.

Today was another day she came with no plan in mind, expecting no trade at the time. She came to talk with him, like they often did. He had this sharp tea that he poured to the both of them, sipping at the edge of the cave where the grass met the sand met the hard rock. They talked about the stars, what they would call each on Bal’demnic, and the rest of the galaxy.

They talked about themselves. Sitting across the archway from each other, plenty of space between them, but when they started talking about their pasts, it seemed like that space shrunk to feel much more bearable.

Qimir came from a tribe called Jedi. He tried correcting her that it was simply an organization of sorts, of people unable to love and live like the rest do, but with a name like that, they would be a sick tribe. He described how he couldn’t handle staying with the Jedi, and she was curious why they weren’t allowed to love, but he brushed it off and she didn’t pick it up again.

He felt like he didn’t belong. So Kaibre confessed how the people would say Kaibre was sensitive to the air. His demeanor changed, getting up to sit next to her against the wall instead, nodding and heeding her confession like it was a prayer.

Kaibre told him how it felt sometimes like she didn’t belong in that tribe, where everyone was just a little wary of the truth about her, and he held her hand like she was an altar.

She looked around the corner again, raising an eyebrow when she didn’t see him. She could clearly smell the sharp tea he was brewing in the corner, so he couldn’t have stepped out for long.

“I’m over here!” He called out, walking in with a new pelt in his hand. He was wearing these hamaka pants, as he told to her once, dark along with a crossed wrap top. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait Kaibre- woah! Whoa, whoa, whoa, pause. Who is that?”

His eyes were narrowed in on someone behind her, and she, confused, turned to see no one. “Who?”

“Behind- Behind the wall??”

Kaibre reached her hand up the slit in her skirt, pulling out her cortosis blade with ease, as Qimir hurried to grab her shoulder and steady her. “Wait, it was just a little kid.”

“Come out,” She said steadily, watching the edge of the wall carefully. And out padded little ol’ Rhysin in all his glory. “Rhysin?!”

Kaibre sounded undignified, sheathing her blade back into it’s place, walking over to Rhysin with the intention to dragging him by the ear back to the village. Rhysin, sensing her intentions from a mile away, ran at his window and right to Qimir, grabbing onto the hamaka pants and tugging at them. By reflex, Qimir picked him up and turned him away from Kaibre.

“Rhysin, hm? What brings you all the way here? With Kaibre?”

“He was supposed to be sleeping!” Kaibre emphasized. “Do you know how dangerous that was? What if you tripped on something? What if you got stuck in a hunter trap? Hm? I almost threw my blade at you!”

“Ok, ok, it’s not his fault he’s just a little curious. I know someone else that was just as curious as him too,” Qimir spoke easy to her, breaking down the tension and anxiety she had from seeing Rhysin here. The way he adjusted his grip to bounce Rhysin up and down to comfort him at the same time didn’t go unnoticed to Kaibre. He was a natural. “Besides, you’ve been hiding me from the rest of your tribe, isn’t it around time I saw some new faces?”

“Rhysin when we get back to the tribe, you are in big trouble,” Kaibre wanted, narrowing her eyes onto him.

“Hey! Be nice to him.” Qimir all but pouted along side the three year old. “Who is this little adorable little monster anyways-”

Kaibre sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Rhysin, meet Qimir, the outsider and my friend. Qimir, meet my son, Rhysin.”

Qimir’s entire body stiffened up, looking appalled, shocked, and nervous at the same time. “Son?” He choked out, still bouncing Rhysin up and down. “I-I didn’t know you had a son.”

“It…didn’t come up…” Kaibre answered. Actually, she preferred that he didn’t know she had a son with no father, just appearing one day in her womb. Where was she going to start explaining that one?

Qimir hummed, and then just smiled at Rhysin. “Well, I don’t suppose you guys can make the trek back this late. Especially with this little one, and the pelt at the same time…”

Kaibre sighed, looking regretful. “Rhy, baby, why?”

“I wanted to see him too.” Then he had the audacity to pout.

Qimir practically melted, pouting back and then at Kaibre, “Oh please, Kaibre, one night won’t harm anyone.”

“Qimir, you have a tiny bed. And I’m not sleeping on the floor because someone decided to play explorer tonight!”

“Actually, I have a new pelt,” Qimir pointed out, “And this little guy wouldn’t mind sharing now, would he?”

Kaibre pinches the edge of her nose. It’s alright, yes, but the fact her son would be this reckless…ah, what was she thinking? He was her son after all. Hers, and unpredictabilitys’. She couldn’t get too mad at him, but at the same time she had half the mind to chase him down the coastline all the way to the village the next morning.

“C’monnnn.” Woah. When did he move that close to her? Qimir tugged at her shawl lightly, mindful of the way it would fall off her if he wasn’t careful. He and Rhys gave her matching pouting faces, but she was a little preoccupied with the fact she could count the strands of hair falling in front of Qimirs’ face right now, and the little laugh he did when he realized her staring. “The pelt is really really soft, promise.”

She sighed, nodding while Qimir and Rhysin both giggled in glee and celebrated in their own separate world. Rhysin was not going to getting off Qimir any time soon.

When Qimir finally set him down, Kaibre practically flew at her chance to get her hands on Rhysin, by holding him upside down by the ankles. She emphasized her point while Rhysin giggled at her antics, and agreed he would never do it again (lies). They ate dinner in less tension after that, Qimir exuding off a strange energy. He seemed at unease, but acting completely fine otherwise. She gave him weird looks, ones that he couldn’t have not noticed, but he ignored them outright. It’s fine, she’ll confront him about it next him she sees him, without Rhysin here.

“See? The pelt is pretty great, right?” Qimir laid it down in a carved out corner, perfectly fit for it. She supposes he’s been planning for a while after the initial discomfort of his ratty mattress dissolved. She told him good pelts were found further north, where the thick fur was essential in cold seasons. He even knitted a large blanket to match it. After securing down the pelt onto the bed and moving the pillows back, and placing the blanket on top, he stepped back to show it off in a “ta-da!” motion.

Kaibre shrugged, picking up Rhysin and laying on one side with him, while Qimir laid on the other side.

It was fine, it was incredibly warm and comforting on the pelt, and even the blanket insulated heat inside. Just the one night…

“Ammi, ammi, ammi, get up, get up, get up-”

Kaibre whines quietly, feeling warmer than she has any morning in a long time. She batted away his hand tugging at her arm, moving closer into the warm corner she was against, “Rhy, go catch rabbits, let me sleep…”

Rhy ran off, she rolled her eyes, leaning further into the wall— that wrapped back around her?

Kriffkriffkriffkriff, that was not a wall, that was mister ‘wall-of-muscle’ Qimir.

But dank farrik, he was so warm.

Her eyes fluttered just a little open, noticing that she was currently laying on his bicep (perfect pillow, wow) with his other arm pulling on her waist, fingers splayed around and over the rolls of her stomach where she was curled up. She sighed, content with the soft fur under her, the droning sound of Qimir’s breathing on her neck, and the warm vibrating off his chest. Rhys would be fine, no forest animal came near these caves…Kaibre could indulge in a while, just until Qimir woke up and realized what he had done accidentally in his sleep.

She could hear a soft groan coming from him, probably the rising sun getting into his eyes before he was ready to leave sleep. She quickly closed her eyes. No need to let him think she was letting him hold her like that…

But she didn't say anything when his breathing changed every so slightly from his sleep, and his arms furrowing deeper into his hold on her.

#qimir #the acolyte #qimir x reader #qimir x oc #qimir x you #idk what else to tag #the girls that get it #tribal ishhhhh #pls tumblr do yo thang #this is for everyone who said they wanted this #if you back out on me #ill cry.

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commajade · 4 months

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youtube

finally watched watched my brothers and sisters in the north when it's been in my to-watch list for years and it was so touching and so beautiful.

the people interviewed were of course handpicked and have better conditions than other people because of the impact of U.S. sanctions and such, but it genuinely inspired me how hard-earned their good living conditions are. the farmers had to work really hard to re-establish agriculture after the war and now they get so much food a year they donate most of it to the state because they simply don't need it. the girl at the sewing factory loves her job and gets paid with 14 kilos of food a month on top of her wages. the water park worker is proud of his job because 20,000 of his people can come and enjoy themselves every day, and Kim Jong-un himself took part in designing it and came by at 2am during construction to make sure everything was going smoothly. his grandmother's father was a revolutionary who was executed and buried in a mass grave in seoul but in the dprk he has a memorial bust in a place of honor and his family gets a nice apartment in pyongyang for free.

imperialist propaganda always points to the kim family as a dictatorship and a cult of personality but from this docu it's so obvious that it's genuine gratitude for real work for the people, and simple korean respect. if my president came to my work and tried his best to make my working conditions better and to make my life better, i would call him a dear leader too. if my president invented machines and designed amusement parks and went to farms all over the country to improve conditions for the people, i would respect him.

the spirit of juche is in self-reliance, unity of the people, and creative adaptations to circumstances. the docu rly exemplified the ideology in things like the human and animal waste methane systems powering farmers' houses along with solar panels, how they figured out how to build tractors instead of accepting unstable foreign import relationships, and how the water park uses a geothermal heating system.

it rly made me cry at the end when the grandma and her grandson were talking about reunification. the people of the dprk live every day of their lives dreaming of reunification and working for reunification, and it's an intergenerational goal that they inherited from their parents and grandparents. the man said he was so happy to see someone from the south, and that even though reunification would have its own obstacles that we have the same blood the same language the same interests so no matter what if we have the same heart it would be okay.

and the grandma said "when reunification happens, come see me." and it's so upsetting that not even 10 years later, the state has been pushed into somewhat giving up on this hope. the dprk closed down the reunification department of the government last year and it broke my heart.

a really good pairing with the 2016 film is this 2013 interview with ambassador Thae Youngho to clarify political realities in the dprk and the ongoing U.S. hostility that has shaped the country's global image. the interviewer Carlos Martinez asks a lot of excellent questions and the interview goes into their military policy, nuclear weapons, U.S. violence and sanctions, and the dprk's historical solidarity with middle eastern countries like syria and palestine and central/south american countries like nicaragua, bolivia, and cuba.

#my brothers and sisters in the north #dprk #Youtube #sung-hyung cho

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flyin-shark · 1 year

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Well now you know I have to ask- why do you hate liberals?

Ok so the main issue is their support of capitalism. Capitalism exploits workers, greatly exploits the global south, gives capitalists (the people that own capital not the supporters of capitalism) way more than they could ever hope to work for. Literally look up the numbers on bezos and other billionaires it’s ridiculous. There’s a LOT more on capitalism but that’s enough for this post.

Besides their support of the system that exploits us, they fail to understand the connections between capital and the state. They’ll say things like “vote with your dollar” without realizing that people with more dollars get more votes. On a larger scale this means governments are going to side with capital. The nature of power structures is to centralize like this.

Liberals will say they support bipoc and queer folk without caring to change the power structures oppressing us. Sure they’ll sell rainbow pins on Etsy but they aren’t going to address the structural changes that need to be made to protect queer people. Sure they’ll support black artists but we can’t do anything about the prison industrial complex. Maybe putting even more cops on the streets will help /s

So much of what they do is performative. Look we painted Black Lives Matter on a street. We solved racism. Look all the corporations used rainbow logos for a month. Homophobia and transphobia have been defeated. Like at least you sound like you want change but only enough to keep enough people happy so the status quo doesn’t change.

Last point I’ll mention is that liberals always expect compromise. One side is fighting for their rights and the other wants that side dead. Liberals come in saying come on guys let’s be civil here. Surely there’s some compromise we can come to. My existence and the rights of others are not up for debate. Compromise is what got us the three fifths rule where African Americans were counted as 3/5 of a person. Compromise gets us the 13th amendment which outlawed slavery except in cases of s crime. Which then leads to the prison industrial complex and the prison population of today. Compromise is what gave the right the Supreme Court, ending abortion rights for millions of people.

That’s a good portion of why I don’t like liberals. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

#shark sayin stuff #196 #liberals suck tbh #they should get better ideologies #long post

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fightforthesoulofthecities · 10 months

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VOTE YES ON THE STRATEGY CENTER ON YOUR FUNDRAISING BALLOT 2023 VOTE NO ON TRUMP AND BIDEN

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#Akunna Uka #Barbara Lott Holland #bus riders union #Channing Martinez #Eric Mann #Fight for the Soul of the Cities #Free Public Transit #Free Public Transportation #Labor Community Strategy Center #LACI #South Central Power Up #Strategy and Soul #Strategy and Soul Bookstore #The Strategy Center

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honkowo · 5 months

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WHEEEEEE ETHNICITIES POST PART 1!!!!!!! COS I GOT NO CLUE HOW 2 GO ABOUT CULTURES N SHIT!!!!! LOL!!

OK SO ive FINALLY finished the 5 main colour variations (& overall morphology) for angels!!! posting these separate from the culture post cos i still have fuckall idea for that(plus theres already a fair few images in this post if i tried combining the 2 i would have..... a long ass post lol) ANYWAY:

SALT DESERT: least populous of the 5. theyre essentially tundra angels but w thicker skin & MUCH paler. built to handle extreme temperature variation as well as VERY STRONG air currents & high altitudes. body type is typically tall & skinny, with long wings & sail. theyre 3rd best in terms of long-distance flight.

TUNDRA: most populous of the 5. theyre the goldilocks in terms of preffered climate, in that they stick to the tundras & savannas of homeworld(not too hot/cold, average wind speed, etc). body types vary, but theyre usually on the leaner side for aerodynamics, with long wings & sail. 2nd best at long-distance flight.

CENTRAL CLIFFS: 2nd most populous of the 5 & are built to survive the warmer temperatures of the equator throughout the year. body types are typically on the heavier side to help with burrowing & to accommodate for the much higher likelihood of getting domed by flying debris, as well as broad-but-short wings & sail. theyre 2nd worst at long-distance flight, as theyre more suited for climbing & gliding than powered flight.

NORTH/SOUTH COAST: 3rd most populous of the 5. coastal angels are the largest of the angel types, and are built to survive & navigate the seas & frozen coastlines of homeworld with ease. theyre the best at long-distance flight, as they often take regular journeys from the north to the south to ferry resources between both the coastal spheres as well as other spheres that might be up to trade. body types are usually TALL & WELL BUILT, with a long sail & wings.

TROPICS: 2nd least populous of the 5 as well as the shortest. theyre an offshoot of coastal angels who preffered to burrow amongst the more varied plantlife of angel homeworld. theyre the worst at flying, often only able to glide & fly in short bursts(similar to earth chickens) as theyre almost entirely suited to burrowing. the average body type for tropic angels is short & stocky, with short wings.

like usual, gif stills r under the readmore :)

angles:

map:

(was gonna send the stills but i hit the image limit LOL so youll have 2 have the merged map sorry)

#owo whats this #angel tag!!! wahoo #speculative biology #spec bio #alien species #xenobiology #OK IM FINALLY GETTING THERE #the 5 took me SO LONG i was at a loss 4 designs for AGESSSSS HOLY FUCK but its ok now theyre done :) i dont have 2 think abt pulling entire #-variations if angle outta my ass #fun fact i came up w the tropics angle thanks 2 banana man by tally hall :) thats why theyve got a banana sail lol #anyway i also had this 5-way venn diagram of most the potential color variations between the 5 but i figured thatd be better suited for-#-the updated ref that i STILL HAVENT POSTED(that will literally be next all the art is done now lol)#but yea thats my rambling 4 today

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nightswatchdisbandmentera · 5 months

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What do you think are the chances that the Others won't be portrayed as these pure evil monsters that need to be stopped but instead will have a sympathetic side.

I understand fandom wanting the Others to be more “humanely" complex, I really do. But I personally don’t think it’s narratively necessary or even interesting to do so. There's absolutely no emotional weight to making the Others "sympathetic" or more human. At least, there's no new themes to be surveyed when exploring this new narrative beat. Do the Others have a history of being systematically oppressed by humans? Not that we know of. Is there a massive power imbalance that heavily favors the humans over them? Not really. If anything, the Others will make easy work of humanity and its our heroes who will have to give everything and more to defeat them. Dany's dragons are certainly not big enough, Jon is struggling to get everyone on the same page, and Bran is a traumatized 9 year old boy with little control over his magic. Humanity's survival stocks are at an all time low at the moment....

Plus, GRRM has already explored these questions in Jon Snow's arc through the wildlings. We also have resolution there. Jon is making a new peace with them. Not only is he bringing them south of the Wall but he is also allowing them to take up posts in the NW (a group they historically warred against). He's allowing them to join Stannis' united realm and become one people with the rest of Westeros. We have a profoundly human conflict where GRRM explores themes of greed and prejudice (e.g., Bowen Marsh and some other members of the NW) measured against deep love and an honor-driven need to save all and any people (i.e., Jon - spoiler: it leads to his death). We have systemic resolution on the horizon plus there's inklings of a promise that the wildlings will be part of the dream of spring through the Gift. Spring, where new life flourishes and grows. If you want a humanized take on the conflict in the North, look no further than Jon Snow's chapters. And I think that's by design - Jon is, after all, the central protagonist in this space.

You wouldn't be able to successfully explore these themes with the Others because it's just too late in the story. GRRM has spent more time avoiding the Others than he has setting them up as characters in this story. I often see the theory that a new pact will need to be forged and the funny thing is that people think Jon will be the one to do it. Nevermind that he already forged a new pact with the wildlings and they start to think of him as their king......It would be quite unsatisfying to repeat this with the Others. We don't know them like we know the wildlings. We don't have a reason to care for their survival, for their children, their villages, or culture. And when it comes to pacts, I assume people are looking to the children of the forest as the blueprint. But the children are established as helpful if not sympathetic figures from the beginning. Bran's later chapters gives life to them and their dying magic. We have reason to care for their survival (the tragedy being that there's so few of them left now) because GRRM sends out one of our two central northern protagonists to them. The children are to Bran what the wildlings are to Jon. So it's a bit useless to use the same formula with the Others since the foundation isn't even there to begin with.

I can't speak for you personally but I think part of why some people want the Others to be sympathetic is because they don't want the typical fantasy battles. They want drama and suspense. Nevermind that I don't think this conflict ends with big battles, but we can have that through our very human protagonists. I assume GRRM is going to explore themes of self-sacrifice, greed, law and lawlessness, etc. on what our human heroes and antagonists do as the conflict unfolds. The Others imo are a vehicle to GRRM exploring what he has admitted to be the all encompassing theme in these books: the human heart in conflict with itself.

I also think it's important to consider that the Others are driven by magical elements that cannot be reasoned with. Do they bring the cold, or does the cold bring them? Either way, I like to think of them as a natural disaster in the same way that we experience tornadoes or tsunamis in the real world. Do you want to reason with a tornado? No. You don't look for morality in them. Instead, when they do happen, you ask yourself: how did the government react? how did systemic racism/classism etc relate to the casualties and response times? how did policy change and who did it? how did communities come together, if at all? We look to the human condition, and that is what GRRM aims to do. These questions are what will be the meat of the conflict against the Others. Not stock fantasy battles but actual human interaction as everything unfolds.

So to your question, I think it's very unlikely that the Others are portrayed as a sympathetic party especially with humanity as the bad guy. Because at the end of the day, the lesson there is just "humans bad". But given ACOK-AFFC with the plights faced by the smallfolk, ASOS and ADWD with Dany's campaign in Essos, and Jon's entire arc starting from ACOK to ADWD, there's nothing new there to discuss. We already know people do bad shit and that brings terrible consequences, so what else is new? Tell me something I don't know.

#asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #the war for the dawn #this has been sitting in my drafts for months sdjfsakdnjkd sorry I forgot to send :((#jon snow #the wildlings #bran stark #the children of the forest #the others

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mrs-gauche · 3 months

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Let's talk (some more) about the Red Lyrium Idol

So, if there's anyone who actually read all of this and is for some reason still interested in even more ramblings, here is Part 2 of my way too long tinfoil theory/summary post about the red lyrium idol, and I swear, it's the last one. 😂 Again, I just needed to get this out before we might get the first real trailer TOMORROW and I'm proven completely wrong, because that's just so funny to me. lol

(Note: This post was written before the title of DA4 was changed into "The Veilguard", so the implications of this title for the narrative were not taken into account for any of this. 💀)

The Phylactery Theory

"A phylactery is a vessel, often a glass vial, containing the essence of a magical being. The Circle of Magi and the Chantry use small phylacteries filled with blood, to track down mages that turn apostate."

"Phylacteries, ironically, are a form of blood magic. When a templar wishes to track down a fugitive mage they will use the phylactery as a way of homing in on the fugitive by way of a "hot and cold" situation, i.e., the phylactery glows, becoming brighter the closer it gets to its respective mage."

In Tevinter Nights, the Carta assassin described the idol to feel rather heavy, like there was "liquid inside". In the 2018 teaser, we see glowing cracks creeping up the idol's surface.

Inquisitor: "You don't need to sacrifice a slave's life to make a dagger." Solas: "I suppose it depends upon the dagger."

(- Solas when talking about blood magic)

In DAO, the Arcane Warrior specialization can be unlocked while doing the "Nature of the Beast" quest line, in the Lower Ruins of the Brecilian Ruins, south the Elven Burial Chamber. Inside a small chamber which looks like a ruined library, there is a broken stone altar. A phylactery is hidden in the far corner of the room. When you touch the phylactery you experience the memories of an elven arcane warrior who has remained trapped inside of the phylactery for centuries. It offers to teach you the secrets of the arcane warriors in exchange for setting its spirit free by placing the phylactery on an ancient altar.

In the "The Hunt of the Fell Wolf" poem in JOH, there is an idol that seems to possess a spirit that is connected to a demon wolf in a way that he can only be defeated if both him and the idol/spirit are destroyed and struck down at the same time.

As demon-stone was shattered, Ameridan struck true: Beast and spirit—both felled at once, Though neither hunter knew.

The Black Vials are six small glass phylacteries that can be found around Ferelden. When the Warden takes a vial, the glass fractures and releases a hostile revenant. A revenant is a form of undead that is created when a powerful demon, usually that of desire or pride, possesses a corpse. Upon their death, each revenant drops a scrap of vellum/codex entry that reads:

"Bound by your true name, no mortal hand shall reach you."

In the Tevinter Nights story "Genitivi Dies at the End", Rasaan and the Qunari were searching for Solas' "true name".

In the final chamber of the Solasan temple, there's an ancient inscription that reads:

Faintly carved into the stone is a figure bound in chains. Two other figures have turned their gaze from the central image. "Pride in our accomplishments and in our hearts. That same pride became (a word meaning corrupted or altered) within him, he sought to claim (indecipherable), cast from favor and so he was bound." "Hidden from mortal eyes, death lies within."

A codex about an encounter with a revenant, 5:71 Exalted:

"[…] The descriptions of the creature's abilities were eerily similar to those our brothers at Marnas Pell encountered almost a century ago […]"

Solas' hideout in The Missing was located in the Deep Roads beneath Marnas Pell.

Cole's comments in Trespasser suggest that Solas was bound to Mythal.

"He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face."

While Solas seemed to have burned her vallaslin off his face, could there be a chance that he is still bound to Mythal by his true name? Could it be that he is still bound to whatever part of Mythal is trapped within the idol?

Again, the ancient spirit in DAO can only be freed from the phylactery if it is placed on an ancient altar.

So, the question is, if the idol is indeed a phylactery containing Solas'/Mythal's blood and a part of her spirit that needs to be placed on its original location/altar to free her, and if it was ripped off its original location, then where did it originally belong?

The Place Where It All Began

In 2018, we got the first DA4 teaser, showing the idol in various close-ups as well as the focal point of this mural.

Look at how the idol is suspiciously placed in the very center of the circle/tambourine which we assume to represent the Veil.

Now, what else sits at the center of the Fade that is ever present and visible but cannot be reached?

Right, the Black City.

Again, the idol is very likely depicting Mythal's death.

Now, tell me, where do you think was Mythal murdered?

Or rather, where do you think did the Blight originate?

I'm convinced that the Black/Golden City is/was Arlathan. The place where the false gods were imprisoned when Solas created the Veil. The idol/blade was likely forged after Mythal died. The 2022 cinematic clearly shows that the Blight started to spread from the center of the Golden City before it turned black and began to consume the rest of the world, but seemed to have then been contained by the Veil preventing it from spreading further.

"Had I not created the Veil, the Evanuris would have destroyed the entire world."

Corypheus is physically covered in red lyrium. We can assume that he turned into a blighted creature when he entered the Black City, which was already black and corrupted when they opened its gates.

Red lyrium only began appearing throughout the surface of all of southern Thedas in crystalline nodes following the opening of the Breach.

In Future Redcliffe, a year has past with the Breach still open and the red lyrium has spread everywhere.

It is proven that the Veil is inedvitably getting weaker alltogether, and that it will eventually come down at some point, regardless of Solas' actions.

The Veil getting weaker correlates with the Blight spreading further. If the root of the Blight lies within the Black City, and if the Blight was contained/prevented from spreading further through the creation of the Veil, and if the seven Old Gods are connected to the seven imprisoned, tainted Evanuris and serve as seals to the seven gates/mirrors of the Black City, then this banter and these visuals make a lot of sense:

Seven semi-circles with two of them still “lit” and the “tambourine”/Veil looking more broken with each new update….

Seven Old Gods/Evanuris that were banished when Solas created the Veil…..

Seven mirrors shattering….

Seven gates of the Black City, which Kordillus Drakon prophesied will someday shatter and cover both the mortal and spirit realms in darkness….

Solas: Your Order… the Grey Wardens… Blackwall: What about them? Solas: The Wardens see themselves as the world's defense against the Blight, do they not? Blackwall: Yes… why do you sound so skeptical? Doesn't everyone know this? Solas: When an Archdemon rises, they slay it. What will they do when all the Archdemons are slain? Blackwall: Retire? Solas: Without Archdemons, there can be no Blights. Is that the reasoning? Blackwall: Right. Where are you going with this? Solas: Nowhere. I hope they are correct.

Varric: Give [the Grey Wardens] some credit, it's not like you can study the Blight safely. I may not like everything they've done, but without the wardens, we'd all be blighted by now. Solas: They've bought us some time, I will grant them that.

DA4 will likely be set ten year after the events of DAI. And the Veil has gotten even weaker/Solas might succeed in tearing it down.

In Tevinter Nights, Solas claims that whatever he's going to do will "save this world".

Maybe the idol will solely be used to destroy the Veil and merge the World and the Fade, in order for him to, quote, "casually reshape reality".

BUT, you know what was proven to be the ultimate power source for Dreamers to reshape reality in a time before the Veil?

Say it with me.....

Great. Dragon. Blood.

So let's go back and assume that the idol is a phylactery that contains some part of Mythal/blood and that Solas is somehow still bound to by his true name. Mythal was likely murdered in the Black City, which might've also been the catalyst for the Blight. Solas might want to enter the Black City with the idol. Again, the ancient spirit in Origins can only be freed from the phylactery if it is placed on an ancient altar.

So… What if Solas plans to bring the idol back to its original location and free her spirit?

The Mother's Return

"Why did Mythal come to you?" "For a reckoning that will shake the very heavens."

At last, let me put on the tinfoil hat one final time and break this all down.

*takes deep breath*

The fact that it is Mythal's mosaic that is revealed to be on the platform in that final fight with Corypheus (symbolically surrounded by red lyrium!), the same ruins that were once the foundations of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

The Sacred Ashes of Andraste, which possesses healing qualities "unsurpassed by even the most powerful spells".

Andraste, who was said to be too weak to bear children, but then miraculously was able to give birth to two daughters later in life. Almost like something came into her life that enabled her to do so. Like, for example, drinking the blood of a Great dragon.

Andraste, who might have not only been a mage, but also an Old God Baby like Kieran, carrying the soul of Dumat.

Old God souls, which a certain person seems to be particularly interested in collecting.

Not the Maker, but Mythal being drawn to Andraste's Old God soul, like a moth to a flame.

Andraste becoming Mythal's host, but that host ultimately burned at the stake, so she had to find another one.

Fast forward a few hundred years. Mythal has found another host in Flemeth, who just so happens to make a bargain with Calenhad Theirin, making him, again, drink the blood of a Great dragon, to gain special powers, leading him to become the first king of Ferelden.

So she watches the Theirin bloodline, until the fateful day Alistair gets almost killed at Ostagar. So she swoops in again, nudging the course of history by saving Alistair and the HOF.

Next up is Hawke, whom she saves so Hawke could find the idol and free Corypheus, setting the events of DAI in motion.

In DAI, if the Inquisitor drinks from the Well of Sorrows and you listen very carefully to the super creepy background noises while playing the audio backwards, the voices of the Well will tell you to "Stop her" and something else that sounds like "She speaks the Calling".

The Calling. A voice, a song, dreams that will haunt the Grey Wardens. Just like a certain idol does.

The Calling, which will force the Grey Wardens to go mad and join the Darkspawn as a collective hivemind to wake the Old Gods, but only after they consumed the Archdemon's blood in the Joining.

A being controlling people as a hivemind?

Like the Titans guiding their children like a collective mind? Titans, whom Mythal was the first to kill and mine their blood and something else to create bodies for her own people.

"The First of my People do not die so easily." (- Solas in Trespasser)

An Archdemon cannot be killed, because their soul will just transfer to the nearest soulless darkspawn. Transfering the soul. The secret of effective immortality.

How do you kill an Archdemon?

By drinking their blood, slaying them and taking in their soul.

What is an Archdemon/Old God?

A dragon.

What WAS Mythal?

"The new ones are faithful to Mythal, but do not understand what she was in her fullness."

Mythal's entire image is based on that of a dragon, a form that in ancient times was reserved for the gods. Because before the Veil, it was the dragon's blood that gave those dreamers the power to shape reality, so powerful that they came to be worshiped as gods. But, I think, not only had Mythal the chief role in the pantheon because she had great dragon blood within her, but because…

Her true form IS actually a motherflippin dragon.

So. What did the Evanuris do in order to KILL Mythal?

They slayed her, drank her blood and each of the seven obtained a part of her soul, but instead of getting killed themselves, they sought to become essentially invincible through both Mythal's blood and the tainted Titan blood/red lyrium.

Let me quote this wonderful post by @virlath from a few years ago.

With her conquering of the titans, I think it’s likely that her blood is a part of the blight and the red lyrium corruption. Mythal ran the elves' lyrium operations. She had a connection to the titans and their children. She also stole knowledge of the Void from Andruil. Combining all this knowledge it makes sense that she could use this to her advantage once she was imprisoned and corrupted, because she had a connection to both dragon's blood and lyrium. She just needed a physical aspect- Flemeth, and now Solas, to act out her plans. The use of dragon fire in Dark Fortress is further indication that the combination of dragons and lyrium results in a massive power nexus. I think it’s possible that red lyrium is simply lyrium tainted with dragon's blood. More specifically, Mythal's blood. This is why dragons were strictly reserved for the evanuris in ancient elvhen times- because the key to their immortality and power was dragons and more specifically, great dragon's blood. Mythal had strict rules about taking on the form of 'divinity’. I think this was likely because dragons and dragon fire/dragon's blood was the true source of the evanuris' power, and is what allowed them to appear immortal. This could explain why the old gods are so inexplicably linked to the evanuris in the lore. I think the evanuris each had a dragon- an old god, and they each used dragon's blood and dragon fire to make their dreams into literal reality. No one could infiltrate their dreams because only they had access to the power of dragons, which they claimed was their right.

Before BioWare settled on dragons, the Archdemons were supposed to look very different.

Meaning that, each of the seven Old God souls…. is what?

Yeah, I think it's all Mythal's.

Again, WHAT did the voices of the Well tell the Inquisitor? WHO speaks the CALLING?

It's the voice of the one who's the real owner of that soul. The one who for centuries has been trying to gather the scattered pieces of HER SOUL, driven by nothing but vengeance.

"So Mythal endures."

If the idol contains a part of Mythal, and if Solas used the idol/blade to trick the Evanuris like in Dalish legends, maybe it was because they were desperate to destroy the idol and get rid of Mythal once and for all.

Remember the visions described in Trespasser.

“Hail Mythal, adjudicator and savior! She has struck down the pillars of the earth and rendered their demesne unto the People! Praise her name forever!“ “In this place we prepare to hunt the pillars of the earth. Their workers scurry, witless, soulless. This death will be a mercy. We will make the earth blossom with their passing.” “The runes say the Evanuris fought the Titans. They mined their bodies for lyrium and… something else. It’s not clear.” “They made bodies from the earth. And the earth was afraid. It fought back. But they made it forget.” "For a moment, the scent of blood fills the air, and there is a vivid image of green vines growing and enveloping a sphere of fire." “For one moment, there is a vivid image of two overlapping spheres; unknown flowers bloom inside their centers. Then it fades.”

A sphere of fire… you mean, like the SUN? You mean, Mythal actually creating a MOON, just like in Dalish mythology?

Bear with me here.

We established that Mythal mined the Titan's blood, which I believe was then used for centuries in combination with her fire to create bodies for her own people/spirits. On top of that, I believe that, after her victory, Mythal used part of a dead Titan and lifted it into the sky to use it as a "cornerstone" to build the capital city of Elvhenan, Arlathan, on top of her "enemy's corpse".

I believe that in the moment of Mythal's death, her blood altered the Titan's blood (which also sundered the Song) and that something happened to the moon that she had created, which in turn led to the unbridled power of the sun to corrupt part of the Titan that the Golden City, Arlathan, was build on, as well as both their blood. And that's when it turned black. That's when the Blight was created.

Elgar'nan is the God of the Sun in Dalish mythology. He was likely the main instigator behind the Evanuris' betrayal and Mythal's murder.

The sun imagery keeps appearing throughout DA4's promotional stuff.

If the Old God Lusacan is connected to Elgar'nan, they would represent two polar opposites. The God of the Sun and the God of Night and Darkness. Again, Kordillus Drakon prophesied that the seven gates of the Black City would someday shatter and cover both the mortal and spirit realms in darkness.

"All the world will soon share the peace and comfort of my reign."

“Lusacan, the Dragon of Night, calls to you. He lives where it is darkest and waits for the day he will rise. Drink of his blood and know the power in darkness: either fear the Night or wield it.“ "The darkspawn yearn to awaken and corrupt Lusacan to start a new age of darkness.” “A night that will never end”

But why does this need to happen? Because Mythal needs to act out her vengeance upon the ones who murdered her and doomed the world with the creation of the Blight.

"She was betrayed as I was betrayed! As the world was betrayed!" "Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!"

Solas wants to save his people no matter what, and for that, the Veil needs to be torn down, resulting in the World and the Fade becoming one again…

But, to truly restore his People, I believe that he needs the Mother to come back.

Mythal represents both Justice and Vengeance. If justice is corrupted, it will turn into vengeance. Solas makes no difference between spirits and demons.

"I am sorry as well, old friend."

That last line of Flemythal to Solas. It's so simple, but what does it truly mean? Why is she apologizing to him?

Is it because none of this would have happened if she didn't die and everything that happened to the people and the world was because of her downfall? Because it was her who started all this in the first place with the death of the Titans, stealing their hearts and corrupting their blood?

With her gone and no one left to keep the false gods in check, if it hadn't been for her death, Solas wouldn't have been left with what seemed to be the only choice?

Is she sorry for everything he had to endure, from her giving him a body against his will, twisting his original purpose, to him having to live with the guilt over the death of a world and an entire civilization for a thousand years?

Or is she apologizing for using him?

"An eclipse as Fen'Harel stirred."

"Cry havoc in the moonlight. Let the fire of vengeance burn. The cause is clear." (- Solas reciting Mythal's invication)

She knew that Solas would do anything at this point to undo his mistakes and save the people he doomed. She knew exactly what Solas would do when he came to her in that after credits scene in DAI. She knew that he would need that power and the idol to complete his ritual in order to tear down the Veil, but to what end?

Without the Veil, whoever controls the dreams controls reality.

#tinfoil time #da4 #red lyrium idol #solas #mythal #now on to being proven completely wrong about any of this! 😂

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