#The Ocean Eyes Series Blessing Ritual

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Mew Tul

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[mysticstarlightduck]

Magic System, But Badly Tag! (1)

Thank you so much for the tag @cowboybrunch (here)!

Rules: Explain the magic system of your current WIP as poorly as possible. Bonus points if you use bullet points.

Let's talk about the magic system of Song of Thorns (:

Elemental

ATLA vibes but medieval

someone really should keep an eye on the Initiates - these angsty teenagers with a god complex should not be left unattended

Powers range from "Look, I can light a candle with the tip of my finger, isn't it neat?" to "I CAN CONTROL THE STORMS, FEAR ME" and it is complicated

Lesson No. 1 - Don't trust the nice instructors on the weird-looking trial maze or you will die = STREET SMARTS

who cares about reading all those ancient tomes, let's improvise in the middle of an untamed wilderness or ocean brimming with wild magic, now that's a good idea

Animus Codex

soul magic with a celestial's blessing

can weave fates, lives, and entire existences with a series of secret runes on a specific set of cards/tablets

a select group of people know what tf is going on with this magic but everyone is too afraid to really ask

rune casting requires ancient magic components that definitely are anything but safe

either the celestials loved this civilization way too much or hated it with a passion

Sanguinex Arts (human only)

Lazy human royals really wanted to be vampires but didn't want to transform themselves and made it everyone's problem

"Can I copy your homework?" "No, absolutely not -!" "Too late already did it."

A cheap knockoff of something beyond mortal comprehension created by an insane set of human sorcerers who could not give less of a fuck

"I think I understand how they do it" - they did not, in fact understand how it was done

Feast your eyes on the eldritch abominations and trauma inducing shite created by human stupidity at its finest

A distortion of all that is moral and decent, used by the royals to expand their lifespans and oppress those who do not have access to their power

A generally bad time

Traditional Hemomancy (Vampyr/Fey only)

an ancient Vampyr tradition, tied to their very existence (and which was cheaply copied by humans to create the Sanguinex)

"General rule of thumb - do not piss off a vampire who has something or someone to protect, unless you fancy seeing how your insides look on the outsides"

Create & Destroy, Life & Death - this magic can heal or kill and is connected to the balance of nature

Blood Magic mixed with Matter Manipulation

"Roses are red, violets are blue, if the moon turns crimson you'll die soon" - a lesson some characters in this book should've learned before venturing further into this land

generally chill and laid back sorcerers who really don't want to have to use their powers to hurt people and just wanna have a good time

Alchemical Sorcery

Fucked Around and Found Out, Special Edition.

Potions slowly change you to be able to cast magic but it's fine because you know what you're doing. Hopefully.

Chemical components and suspicious magical ingredients create unforeseen creations = chemistry magic

You are cursed with the knowledge you wish you never had

Need to go to an elite academia to get a certificate permission in case you blow stuff up with your alchemy

Let's shape the very matter of existence after chemistry class 101

Melodis Mortem (forbidden)

"The Song of the Dead" - just a fancy name for a bunch of academia dropouts practicing off-the-book necromancy in a cult.

Let's raise your great-grandpa from beyond the grave because what could possibly go wrong- and he is now a murderous ghoul. Yeah, my bad. We'll do better next time.

Necromancer bards

All these books, guidelines and bloodied ritual circles might just be a way of hiding the fact they don't know what tf they're doing and are relying on lucky improv most of the time.

🎶Spooky scary skeletons send shivers down your spine🎶

"Well, well, well if it isn't the Consequences of my actions."

Mechana Ignis (elven only, secret)

combustion magic

steampunk/solarpunk elf society

gunpowder/"Sunpowder" go brr

"Nah, we ain't sharing this with you lunatics, bruv. This is our magic that goes boom and pew-pew on command. Not yours, nuh-uh, you're too fucking crazy to use it responsibly."

elves bored with eternity decide to do cool science stuff to pass the time and the world isn't ready for it

Tagging: @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab, @little-peril-stories

@the-ellia-west, @winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG

[magicaguajiro]

La Bóveda: Spiritually Cleansing Yourself and the Altar

Once you and the altar are physically clean, it is important to make sure you are spiritually cleansed. We cleanse to clear ourselves of any energies we may have picked up, to make the space clear of unwanted spirits who may impede our communication and to perfume the space for our spirits. Whatever way you choose to cleanse the altar and yourself is up to you, but it is important that you pray through the whole ritual. I personally like to pray things like Psalm 23, Psalm 7, Alan Kardec’s Books of Selected Prayers, and La Fe en Oracion. You can also pray from your heart or pray pagan prayers if you choose, but I do recommend researching the role Christianity plays in modern folk practices.

If you are just starting out, try using a spiritual cologne like Florida Water or 1800. It is important to cleanse every object that is part of the table. You may also choose to smoke cleanse with Tobacco, Incense, herbs, and resins like frankincense and myrrh. When using Tobacco, you usually will light the end, flip it around and blow, as if the altar is taking the puff. Blow this smoke all over the entire altar once it is complete and the candle is lit and fill the cups with smoke. Don’t burn yourself! Traditionally, a preparation would be made called an Omiero to wipe down the altar. If you want to put some more energy into it, you can choose to do a series of spiritual baths for yourself. These baths won’t just be cute roses and lavender in a milk tub. It will be consecutive days of blessed and charged baths, using 3, 5, 7, 9 or more herbs as well as things like oils, waters, dirts, resins and colognes. Spiritual baths are a great tool to add to a routine if you can figure out a way to incorporate it. Though, as someone with ADHD I know how hard it can be so don’t feel pressured to if other methods suffice for you.

[My Go-To Quick Spiritual Cleanses for Bóveda work. From Left to Right: Rue Water, Blessed Florida Water, water from where the river meets the ocean, and blessed Kolonia 1800]

There are many different types of spiritual baths. It should be noted that working with certain materia is dangerous and should be supplied by a professional or elder. Also, some herbs can harm you spiritually if they are poured on your head, like espanta muerte. Also, most baths will need to be “illuminated” with a candle burned in them. I usually use white tapers or novena candles. The baños used for espiritismo include some called bitter baths and sweet baths. Bitter baths use herbs like espanta muerte, agrimony, pepper, wormwood, and garlic. These baths are designed to clear you of any crossed conditions or evil eye, remove obstacles and steer you on course to your path. After that, a sweet bath using honey, romerillo (shepherd’s nettle), basil (albahaca), abrecamino (road-opener), Hibiscus (marpacifico), and Orange. This is to draw in the correct opportunities for your path as well as to increase your personal ‘magnetism’ in a way. This basically makes you more appealing in all ways, even for money and opportunities. But also for negative entities, so remember to wear protective amulets at this point in the process. Finally, a white bath will be prepared using things like coconut water, goats milk, cascarilla, white rum, florida water, kolonia, and camphor. This serves to enlighten you and make you more sensitive to spirits and energies around you. It also draws your spirits closer to you. You may also choose to fast on occasion during the first three days or the final day of this routine.

It can also be traditional to preform a sweeping, where you take a bundle of fresh herbs or a blessed broom and use them to swat away any energies you don’t want to invade your altar and session. This can be hard to do properly if an altar is already set up, so I would suggest doing this on the days you deep clean the bóveda. It is also important on these days and when doing deeper work and sessions at the altar to cover your head. This closes your energy off, and means to connect to your spirits you have to allow them to tap in.

These are just precautions you have to take when working with the Dead and Disincarnate. In Cuba, the folk magic is inherently tied to the muertos.

Luz y Progreso. 🕯️

[beesmygod]

BLOODBORNE LORE PART 8: RESEARCH HALL, MARIA, LUDWIG, AND THE PALE MOON

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6 (start of lore dump)

part 7

BLOCK #LONG POST/ TO NOT SEE THESE HUGE POSTS

i will post pure speculation in italics and important nouns in bold. these are created with the intent to be enjoyed by fans and non-fans.

---

we're back at a part of the game you actually play. all of that shit except for the fishing hamlet (and even then you don't see the raid happen) happened off screen. i had to prove it all happened to you using the stupid item descriptions and cobble together a timeline using context clues. either there's a satisfying enough thread of cohesion that can be teased out of this story in spite of its rampant and wild editing or im very ill and need to go to the doctor.

i just really like how many things have direct relations and it leaves it to you to figure out. the allure is that it doesn't spoon-feed me and trusts me to be intelligent enough/insane enough to want to figure out on my own why the hunter just did any of that. if you're actually playing bloodborne as a first time player, the plot is a series of incomprehensible and horrifying situations that makes it seem like the hunter is just stumbling unluckily into various evil rituals and happenings. the game+ system and the sheer size of the chalice dungeons encourages you to re-play the game, but this time with what little you know.

oh also when you do ng+ you'll have enough insight to see that the buildings have been crawling with enormous bug monsters the whole time. that's worth looking into. anyway:

---

Once, a young girl had an older brother who was determined to become a doctor, and so she wilfully became his patient. In the end, this led to their encounter with the Eldritch Truth, for which they considered themselves blessed.

laurence wanted to be a doctor, which makes his blindly optimistic interest in a magical blood from a hole in the ground that cures all your ailments much more understandable. this interest drove him to leave byrgenwerth with some of his associates in order to form their own research hall/church/punitive colony. he did not, however, totally abandon the eyeball-based research of byrgenwerth.

it seems yharnam has a lackadaisical approach to human rights and torture: the subjects of the research hall are criminals or heretics who cry out that they're "guilty, they know" and they "won't do/say it again". i dont think there's any reversing what they do to them, based on what you harvest out of them:

"Greyish amoeba-shaped brain fluid. Wobbles and bounces. Extracted from a patient whose head expanded until that was all that they were.

In the early days of the Healing Church, the Great Ones were linked to the ocean, and so the cerebral patients would imbibe water, and listen for the howl of the sea. Brain fluid writhed inside the head, the initial makings of internal eyes."

"imbibe water" is an incredible innuendo for "pour dirty, parasite-filled ocean water inside of their skulls" (likely using the techniques seen in the skulls of the fishing village from the previous post. just get a funnel and see what happens). makes me a bit queasy, honestly lol. also it was a huge bust, except in a handful of cases. the most significant discovery came from the aforementioned doctor's sister.

on the left is a research hall patient stock enemy. they have the emaciated, pallid bodies associated with those who experience The Eldritch Truth™ (they are, in fact, reskinned labyrinth pthumerians). some have grown into giants, some are only heads, some are friendly but insane, most are hostile.

on the right is laurence's sister, blood saint adeline. a blood saint is a woman (apparently, as all of our samples come exclusively from women) whose blood has been specially treated and cultivated to be superior in healing. adeline and a blood saint during the main game named adella both serve up blood with bonus healing (adeline's effect is superior by far). arianna's dirty vileblood increases stamina regen instead. here's all the bloods side by side with the brightness blasted up so we can see. i included iosefka in here for good measure but she is not a blood saint. it doesnt seem like the blood from the vial is hers.

blood saints are "vessels for blood", which i take to be literal. i think they are the results of a full blood transfusion of old blood. i mean, you run into some of these guys with the transfusion bags still attached to them so its a fair assumption. whatever the process, there are enemy patients with rotten track-marked arms that spew slow poison at you (as opposed to rapid poison, a different mechanic) whose transformation was unsuccessful. poisons are found in story significant places and enemies; most relevant at this moment the weapon obtained at the end of the DLC, the kos parasite, that spews slow poison. lore note: black and white healing church doctor armor sets protect against poisons. poison might have been a big problem in day to day life in that shithole of a town yharnam.

anyway, look again at the two lumps up there. adeline's head is paler than the enemy versions. the more frenzied an enemy is, the redder their head (...). check out the difference between the patients that attack you with their fists and the ones that run on all fours and growl.

remember this simple rhyme:

if its eldritch and true: its pale and blue if the blood is red, its a beast ahead. -shakespeare

this will come up a lot more later.

all this shit lead to at least SOME kind of information. the experiments lead to some interesting results, such as the notable failures who survived a grotesque transformation but their eyeless heads collapsed. there's also the patients in the lumenflower garden who have arcane magic and cast spells of "slow down your ps4's frame rate". there's some heads just oozing around without bodies. all in all, just some freaks who were on the precipice of scraping something otherworldly, but fell just short.

except adeline.

after partaking in multiple helpings of "brain fluid" (...), adeline hears/see something and transcribes it; a rune that reveals a sliver of the eldritch truth and what it means to be a "celestial attendant".

milkweed. something to be eaten to facilitate transformation.

when milkweed is equipped with the kos parasite, the hunter takes on a bizarre transformation.

okay, it's a reference to matango, but it also turns your ass into space broccoli for parasites to eat. the hunter moves jerkily like the parasite is piloting them ratatouille style. we can assume the brainsuckers operate on similar principles; parasites have some agency in this world.

---

following the events of the fishing hamlet, lady maria abandoned the hunters and took up residence in the astral clock tower above the research hall. while beloved by the patients for her compassion, she was unable to ease their intentional suffering and was driven to despair. when the hunter finds her trapped in the hunter's nightmare, she is forever in her final horrible moments. her wrists are slit.

---

lady maria's suicide drove gerhman over the edge. his "curious mania" for her was such that he buried her in his workshop (where you find the old hunter bone), made a porcelain doll of her (uhhh...), and dressed it in weird doll clothes completely unlike her real duds (O_O). and like. combed its hair and groomed it and shit.

and in his manic, feverish, obsessive grief, gerhman was heard by a sympathetic spirit: the nameless moon presence. the umbilical cord in the workshop says as such.

said umbilical cord had a different description before the patch on day one. it seems like an old description from the alpha. it reads:

One of the heirlooms used to contact the Great Ones, originating in the child of the Vilebloods. Long ago, in an encounter with the Great Ones, a contract was established, establishing the hunters and the hunters dream. Keep one to fend off foul spirits, or use it to obtain great Insight.

i find it a satisfying explanation to assume that of the many things the church pilfered from castle cainhurst, any remains of an attempted "child of blood" would be at the top of that list. it puts annalise's predicament more into focus. she has to start all over again to create her mysterious "child of blood" but with hardly anyone to serve her.

---

in the deepest depths of the labyrinth (my guess is isz, given this cut scourge beast intended for that chalice dungeon that shares a color scheme with the following items- and literally nothing else in the game), old hunter turned tomb prospector ludwig discovers three things that change his, and all of yharnam's, fate forever. the first is a sword with an initially unremarkable appearance. when called upon by ludwig, the sword would shine with eldritch moonlight, rallying his own spirits and those of his cadre of hunters who were drawn to his heroics (the sword would remain an iconic symbol of the church hunters). the second was found in conjunction with the sword; a rune meaning "guidance" that glows with the same strange pale moonlight as the sword. and third, in the seemingly eternal darkness of his closed eyes, suddenly ludwig could see tiny flecks of light dancing in his mind's eye. or perhaps, in his real eye, as the dlc he appears in establishes is quite possible (albeit with different result when a kos parasite is used). it is worth considering that ludwig's mysterious and otherworldly "threads of light" that he secretly feared were something literal, and physical, and not figments of his imagination. something parasitic from the moon that facilitated the blood thirsty hunt for a greater purpose.

this is the greatest voice acting of all time. please spare one minute to listen to the funniest "scary" horse sounds ever made

---

ok thats all for now. its a lot. this shit is complicated. i can finally get out of the stupid shit that happened before the game that we have to guess at soon. like the next post should wrap it up to old yharnam burning. i feel like my brain is melting.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Lullaby for the Gods

You have two options

"Stories brought on to the wind will bloom into legends in due time; An ancient tale comes whisked into the wind; In time it will grow and sprout once again." The Weaver and Nurturer of Tales, how they came to be and how they have gone.

Pairings -> Venti x God of Time (Ambiguous, Can be Reader)

Word Count -> 1976

Themes -> SCENARIOS, Background, Timeline, It's sad kinda

Series -> #Bonafide specials (100 followers event) Special slot from a special someone : not sure if they want to be tagged

Warnings -> This is my interpretation on the God of Time based on the Sacrificial Weapons Series. And since the prompt only mentions Venti, I won't focus much on their relationship with Decarabian.

Winds of the North are migrating through the crown of the continent once again. The clouds and breezes shift at the peak of day and the grass, the trees, the flowers they all sway. This was the first encounter, as one of the threads of the thousand migrating winds that is Venti, he had always been fascinated by the strong gales that covers a vast land beyond his reach. The city of Mondstadt protected by raging winds far stronger than he.

"Come now, little guy, are you not straying from your stream?" Such beaded eyes of the little sprite detaches from the crown of the North, with its giggles accompanies a sound reminiscent of bells as he nuzzles at the outstretched hand, fair and smooth. A finger consoles his little cheek as the God of Time echoes his snicker. As the sprite settles on their hand, they both spare a minute to watch the God of Storm's dominion. And then they turn to guide Venti back to his current, to his family of winds.

And the little sprite will not witness them until the second cycle of wind passes the cold land of Mondstadt.

So when the time came, several weeks after, Venti once again strays from the winds to venture to his own current. Where are the satin robes that flows with the breeze, that witnesses the rage of another God? The sprite follows tinkling of tin carried by the thousand winds, harmonizing to produce a soft and sleepy melody that lulls those to sleep.

In a distant island he finds himself upon a huge sundial atop a mostly quiet temple. And there stood again the God of Time, with a distant look over the ocean horizon, eyes clouded yet sparkling from the stars that bounced from the surface of the water. Their skin never frails nor wrinkles, hair lustrous and thick, yet their eyes carry a thousand yard stare of shrouded sadness.

"Little wind..." the sprite nuzzles against the cheek of the God, vibrating in worry as he urges them to smile. And they did, even if did not reach their eyes. "You've strayed again, your achon is far from here," cradling the elf to their neck, they turn away from the horizon to the west.

Yet when they urge him to go back, he stubbornly stays.

A stubborn wind playing around the wielder of Time itself. His courage was admirable, and he is lucky that this God is benevolent to his advances.

So they entertain Venti, and the wind begins his stories. Tales of those he'd witnessed when the wind ventures through the continent; and in every word he spills the God of Time is attentive, for when his accounts finally come to their end, Time puts into their memory for keeping. You weave the tales and I treasure them for that is my duty, they spoke with melancholy.

Decarabian is a God that loves his people more than others would know, more than the people would know. And he is also a lonely God. Perhaps it is this distance and disconnection from the world and his people that had made him naive to what he has forced upon his subjects.

The first prayer was heard beyond the wall of storms, only befalling to the ears of the God of Time and the wind spirit who were enjoying a leisurely stroll through the frozen land Andrius had covered in his territory. A man's woe for salvation of the city beyond the gales first reaches the God.

Yet they are unmoving and silent as they watch from afar the Gunnhildr.

But the wind spirit was not that, he was curious and as always he is carried away to his own feat. So without warning he strays from Time and listens to the crying one ever so patiently, and there he receives a glimpse of power that shall manifest one day to greater good.

God of Time offers a smile in the forests where they hid. But only that. For despite being the God of Time, they are solely there to protect its flow. To maintain balance and what should be.

There is nothing they can do to help the people of Mond.

"Little wind." The moniker carried a hard edge of worry unlike the other instances it was used. "The land of Decarabian is... treacherous and suffocating. You are but a tiny wind against his storms." Yet they knew such words will not remove the resolve in the tiny spirit. "Come back to me in one piece, alright? Remember your tales."

Venti softly bumped his hooded head to the God's cheek in reassurance, before he too disappears past the walls of gale front.

And so the God of Time can only do nothing but stand in wait. Like they had always been. Like they had always done. For Decarabian then, for Venti now.

"Bring forth the freedom we all desire."

Many of those that dwell the King of the North's cold wasteland once talked of an ethereal being of satin and silk, of flowing sands, that which overlooked the land of the storms with a somber look. Perhaps it was the waiting and the hoping, but many felt great semblance with the deity. Of the longing look for a distant freedom.

"Little wind," immediately after was a chorus of laughter at the irony brought upon by habits. Venti, now Barbatos with his great wings loom over the God of Time, hands outstretched to feel upon their smooth hands. "I always knew there was more to you."

"My muse," he tastes the new name with his newfound voice, and with his there was a chorus of angelic echoes. "There are festivities upon us, for the city of Mond trapped that was. The people had prepared a grand temple, for just us two Gods it is already ample."

Yet the God of Time smiled only with their lips at the mention of a shrine. You told them about me, they mused as the archon carried them both with the wind where the temple by the east cliff resides.

Give yourself some credit, the new Anemo Archon responds in light banter.

But the God of Time does not.

And so days of reenactments and performances were all that they were driwned upon. For daily, between the peak of the moon and the glimpses of the sun, devoted subjects would appease to the two Gods of Mondstadt through retelling and theatrics of their hard-earned journey to freedom.

Although they cannot glimpse upon the forms of the deities, the light giggles reminiscent of bells that comes from amusement and the flow of draping satin are enough reassurance that their important audience still lingers and listens to their offerings.

This dwelling became their place of rendezvous. And whenever the amphitheater was not crowded by devotees, a lyre plays with a melodic voice, weaving tales of Mondstadt's anew. The God of Time would be there to treasure every story that is weaved, but their subjects remember such moments in a different light: the strum of the strings and the lilt of Barbatos carries with it a hint of serenades.

It seems as tho the faceless God enjoys the Anemo Archon's tales the most.

Whenever it is the Gunnhildr's clan that performs their tale of courage in honor of defending Mondstadt, life and freedom, Barbatos' happiness was the most extraordinaire. The winds breeze by to caress everyone with comfort.

The Imunlaukr receives praise from the God of Time when they are the one on stage. Of courage and bravery, with their desire to not only protect the city of Mond but to appease the Gods, time slows when they follow their script. As if honored by time to stay and linger for the amusement.

And finally, the Lawrence clan holds with them a different reaction, for when their time has come it is quiet. Other clans would comment that perhaps the Gods do not favor their performance but they continued regardless, and they carry with them the essence of wisdom and strength, from the frozen lands to the new city. And only after they perform are they graced by the softest winds and the kisses of youngness that they carry with them even after.

This clan's performance sings with expertly woven symphonies and journeys of hardships through the cold, not harsh but comforting, soft melodies and that of longing. During their performance unbeknownst to their eyes is when the wind embraces the passage of time, where it is in its calmest moments, cradled between his arms and resting against his chest.

The bloodline of the Lawrence always ends the rituals for the morning, for the God of Time had finally found themself free from the shackles of the storms, peacefully resting in the arms of freedom. And it is in these moments that the people appreciate the lessened harshness of time.

Time is harsh and unrelenting, and should always be moving.

The God of Time protects time, nurtures time, and urges time. No force or law shall break the equilibrium of time nor tip its balance. And this unbreakable rule applies to them.

For this reason they ask one day, to the Anemo Archon, why they praise Time. What do they expect from time. And there Barbatos finally sees the burden of a thousand years, of the constraints of that whom is held down by prayers, held down by incapability.

Time only knows harshness. And they cried to the winds without restraints, for not once will they be able to gift the people that so desperately long for their blessings.

And for once, the wind was silent.

For once, the winds... understands the insanity of being one with time. A force made to be unmoved and unrelenting, to be shackled to a single tale when you are burdened with the pleas of many others.

Time is harsh, because they are meant to be.

So when the Anemo Archon finally desired rest and detachment to procure the essence of freedom, they too felt the chance to finally breathe. "Can you set up my awakening five hundred years from now?" Venti laid his head upon the lap of Time, teal eyes and smile somber yet gentle and reassuring. "Preferably at the peak of Ludi Harpastum, if you would allow." An hour glass manifests next to him, allowing his wish.

"When you wake, I will be here," they mumbled as the archon lets his eyelids rest, feeling a soft kiss to his forehead that lulls him to sleep.

"Tell me the tales like a balladeer." And he slumbers away the years.

"When I came to be, the Lawrence ruled over Mondstadt, governing with the most disgusting aristocracy. It was only right that they lost the blessings of thy winds, after all it is only for those who fought to be free," Venti sighed with pure disappointment, "Honestly."

"What happened to your Time friend, then? Did they tell you what happened during your sleep?"

The windborne bard looks at Paimon with a wide yet steeled gaze so daunting it made her squeak and hide behind the traveler. Who silently watches as Venti once again sighed and resigned to strumming his lyre.

"They're gone." No rhyme, no smiles, no cryptics.

Barbatos sought out the help of the winds of Teyvat to tell tale on the dwellings of the God of Time yet came out empty handed. And his only salvation, the oldest of the Seven, can only shake his head as he too does not know of the whereabouts of the God.

The fragments of time lingers in cursed windswept ballads and stories. And as the years go by, all worshipers and records had forgotten about the deity.

They only sing praise to the wind shrine now.

Now who shall nurture the stories brought by the winds?

I seem to have a knack for hurting Venti.

@creation-magician @boxofteenageideas @zelos-simp @ellitx @your-local-venti-simp @indigodreamtime47

[cherrylining]

Kakuriyo Light Novel Volume 5: Finale

I debated whether to translate this chapter for a long time, but in the end they didn’t confirm it in the anime, so...... you’re welcome, everybody. 

Picks up after the ceremony, when Orio-ya and Tenjin-ya are saying their farewells to each other. This is from Ranmaru’s perspective (mostly. I guess.)

If you were waiting for this, thanks!

Previous chapter

My body, will be imprisoned here forever. 

My destiny, will forever be watched over by the cradle of this sea. 

Sometimes, I will suddenly want to return back to a certain destination. 

I feel that I can hear, from the far end of the sea, from the far end of the country, that there are compatriots who are calling me. 

But my body however, is still bound to this southern land. 

Maybe one day, my soul will be able to travel through the storm, and return to that country.

Dear children, please forgive my waywardness.

Isohime-sama wrote down these words in her notebook. 

This is the handwriting left by her after the failure of the ceremony, just before she slept forever in the filthy cave. 

.

“Ranmaru, do you hate me?”

While looking at the majestic sea in the south, Ginji asked me. 

I stroked Nobunaga’s back in my arms, and laughed. 

“You ask me this even now? Didn’t you make up your mind to leave Orio-ya already?”

“But……”

Ginji’s silver hair fluttered in the wind, and his face still carried an earnest look. 

“In the end, I just evaded the fate of the southern land and put all the responsibility on you.”

“......”

“Only I was free. But Ranmanru, you have always been here……”

“Ha! Ginji, you are still as naive. I thought you were using your own way to accomplish this mission.”

“What?”

What does this mean- Ginji showed a dumbfounded expression, as if these words were written on his face.

He has so much capability in doing business, but sometimes he could still be so natural. Really, it’s unbearable. 

“Your decision to leave then was a turning point, just like this time, and triggered a series of fates in the end. You returning, this fact alone, has already brought many additional good things.”

“Additional…… are you referring to Aoi-san?”

“Not only that woman. I’m also referring to the Odanna of Tenjin-ya, the Fuyin couple, and many others that were also affected by you. Thanks to them, this ceremony ended with a great success- I knew by my intuitions that this time it would be successful, and until I had been notified by that messenger of the water mirror in the palace giving out a good omen, could I really confirm it…… But this success is by no means only on the surface. I also feel that I, who had been trapped for so long within the stagnant waters, being unable to escape, has finally been able to take a step forward.”

“......Ranmaru.”

These words, so different from what I would usually say, made Ginji feel overwhelmed. 

However, the truth is that aside from achieving success for the ceremony this time, we have also received considerable gains in reviewing the form of the ceremony. 

Although there is no way to know how long the ceremony of the southern land will last in the future, we must rethink how to receive the Umi-bouzu. 

‘Entertainment’ should not be a ritual dominated by fear and silence in the past, but should be full of warmth. 

Being able to find a view like this, that not even Isohime-sama had seen, could be possibly because we work in the industry of ‘inn’, and thus were able to find such an answer. 

“In the end, the Umi-bouzu was just an ayakashi who was locked in the darkness and led a lonely life.”

“That place…… is it actually the dark side of the Eternal Realm?”

“Who knows. The only thing that is certain, is that the Black Sea at the other end will open once every hundred years, allowing impurities to pour out, causing disasters. But the Umi-bouzu isn’t an impurity, I think…… he probably exists to manage the impurities there.”

“An ayakashi to manage the impurities……”

Assuming that both the treasures and kagura dance were both necessary procedures to purify filth, the function of the ‘ocean treasures’ was different from the beginning. 

--Only to satisfy the Umi-bouzu. 

As for why his displeasure with the banquet would lead to the ceremony to fail, one of the reasons probably lie with whether he had enough “power” to keep the filth back.

In some respects, this power may refer to whether he ate enough and whether he was in good spirits. Although it sounds cheap, I think everyone can understand that without this banquet, the ceremony would not be successful.

From this point of view, the food and hospitality provided by Tsubaki Aoi this time were indeed surprisingly good. The reason lies with the fact that her cooking improves the “spiritual power” necessary for the survival of all youkais. 

“Ginji, you made the right choice to initially leave. If we had both remained here, maybe we would not have been able to see these facts. It was you who led this ceremony to success.”

“No…… how could it be, Ranmaru. The effort that I could give was limited, and it was all thanks to Aoi-san’s help……”

“Ha! And that was all thanks to you that we could get her to act. DIdn’t she do all this, just to bring you back?”

“......”

Ginji suddenly looked up at Tenjinmaru, which was stopped at the docks.

His eyes followed the target of Tsubaki Aoi, who had poked her head out from the deck to bid farewell to the twins. 

Even I, who had known him since young, seemed to have never seen before the warmth that was contained in his eyes. I think to myself, this really is……

“Haha! I really think you are a guy who likes picking the hardest road to walk.”

“What?” 

“Falling in love with that woman…… you will be the one who suffers in the end.”

“......”

Ginji’s eyes slowly widened.

Seeing this guy’s surprised and speechless appearance, I could only speak happily. 

“Alright, you should quickly go back. Your home is not here anymore.”

I patted Ginji on the shoulder, then left him and walked towards the front of the pine forest to meet the other groups in Orio-ya who came to see them off. 

Glancing back at Ginji, he looked thoughtful and stared at the sea again. 

After a while, he quickly climbed onto Tenjinmaru. 

“Ah ah, that’s right, you should quickly go back. Just cherish the most important person in your heart right now, and it will be fine. Take care, my stupid brother.”

That will definitely change our way of survival in the future, and bring us good luck. 

Tenjinmaru, which Ginji had boarded, set off not long after, and left here. 

Carrying Ginji and the hero of this time, Tsubaki Aoi, returning back to where they should go. 

“Goodbye!”

“Take care!”

“The clouds are gathering in the sky, watch out for the rain!”

Orio-ya’s employees and Tenjin-ya’s were fundamentally enemies of each other, but by the time they parted, they had formed a connection worthy of saying farewell to. 

I thought this was a strange chance, and I smiled wryly. 

“Hmph!”

“What’s wrong, Nobunaga?”

The normally well-behaved Nobunaga started rubbing his nose against my chest, whining frequently, looking up at the sky with an uneasy expression, and extended his tongue. 

Do you want to leave this place also?

--He seemed to question me like that.

“Ha! Nobunaga, what nonsense are you saying. I like this southern land…… I, and my body, will coexist here with Orio-ya forever.”

My body, will be imprisoned here forever.

My destiny, will forever be watched over by the cradle of this sea. 

Sometimes this heavy burden will also make me feel overwhelmed, thinking of what Isohime-sama said.

But I have never thought of flying far away, nor did I want to run away. 

This magnificent southern sea endows me with grace, and I will be able to dare continuously. I have only this awareness.

Together with the companions of Orio-ya.

The beam of light shot into the sea from the other side of the sky illuminates us, who have struggled in the dark clouds and are finally breaking through.

Just like a blessing brought from the deceased person I love and respect, Isohime-sama. 

[aion-rsa]

Lovecraft Country Soundtrack: Complete Details and Playlist

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HBO’s latest blockbuster drama effort, Lovecraft Country, is a unique Lovecraftian beast. As adapted by Matt Ruff’s novel of the same name, the show takes classic horror, sci-fi, and adventure tropes and adapts them into a timely story of American racism.

Though the series is certainly timely, it’s also timeless. As evidenced by our helpful explainer article, it wasn’t immediately clear when Lovecraft Country even took place. That’s partly because the Jim Crow era of American institutionalized racism was a lengthy one. And the fact that Atticus “Tic” Freeman was a war veteran didn’t help out much. Which war coincided with “whites only” restaurants and sundown towns? World War II, The Korean War, The Vietnam War – take your pick, really. That pleasant disorientation is enhanced by an equally disorienting soundtrack.

Rest assured, Lovecraft Country takes place in the mid 1950s. But the show’s excellent soundtrack is not limited to the mid 1950s. Sure, there are your standard old-timey classics like “I Just Want To Make Love To You” by Etta James and “Sinnerman” by Nina Simone. But the show’s music choices also include some anachronistic numbers. The hard-changing “Clones” by Tierra Whack is unmistakably modern hip hop. Even Marilyn Manson of all people contributes a song as an episode closer.

Lovecraft Country’s superb soundtrack isn’t even limited to music itself. The series’ first two episodes both feature extended spoken word monologues from Black academics and deep-thinkers that serve as the score for certain scenes. Episode 1 “Sundown” brings a James Baldwin debate to the table while episode 2, “Whitey’s on the Moon” gets its name from a Gil-Scott Heron poem that scores a climactic scene. 

Given the depth of Lovecraft Country’s fascinating soundtrack, we decided to catalog it. Follow along with the show’s song choices here.

Episode 1 – Sundown 

“Main Title (From the Jackie Robinson Story)” by Herschel Burke Gilbert

“Sh-Boom” by The Crew Cuts

 “I Just Want To Make Love To You” by Etta James

“Clones” by Tierra Whack

“I Want a Tall Skinny Papa” by Sister Rosetta Tharpe

“Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On” by Big Maybelle

“September Song” by Sarah Vaughan

“You Upset Me Baby” by B.B. King

“Recipe For Happiness” by Jimmy Self

“Sinnerman” by Alice Smith

Episode 2  – Whitey’s on the Moon

The Jeffersons Theme Song by Ja’Net DuBois and Oren Waters

“Bad Moon Rising” by Mourning Ritual (feat. Peter Dreimanis)

“The End” by Earl Grant

“Blackbird” by Nina Simone

“Killing Strangers” by Marilyn Manson

“Whitey’s on the Moon” by Gil-Scott Heron

“River” by Leon Bridges

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Episode 3 – Holy Ghost

“Window” by The Album Leaf

“Ain’t That a Shame”by Fats Domino

“Ständchen” by Marian Anderson and Franz Rupp

“God’s Been Good to Me” by The Mighty Walker Brothers

“Boogie at Midnight” by Roy Brown

“Good Rockin’ Daddy” by Etta James

“Is You Or Is You Ain’t My Baby” by Louis Jordan

“I Don’t Hurt Anymore” by Dinah Washington

“Take It Back” by Dorinda Clarke-Cole

“Satan, We’re Gonna Tear Your Kingdom Down” by Shirley Caesar

Episode 4 – A History of Violence

“Bitch Better Have My Money” by Rihanna

“Get Em” by Jade Josephine

“Cops and Robbers” by Bo Diddley

“Devil or Angel” by The Clovers

“Cows” by Kbn Kbnlondon

“I Put a Spell on You” by Marilyn Manson (cover)

Episode 5 – Strange Case

“Tonight, You Belong To Me” by Patience & Prudence

“Dark Phrases” by Janet League from For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf (1976)

“Return to Love” by Black Atlass

“Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea” 

“Money” by Cardi B

“Bad Religion” by Frank Ocean

“Please Give Your Love to Me” by Robin Robinson

“Tutti Frutti” by Pat Boone

“My Baby Dearest Darling” by The Charms

“Sweetly Sad” by Alain Bernard Denis

“Melody in F” by Trevor Brown

“Tutti Frutti” by Little Richard

“Lovin’ Machine”

“Lonely World” by Moses Sumney

“Bodak Yellow” by Cardi B

Episode 6 – Meet Me in Daegu

“The Trolley Song (from Meet Me In St. Louis)” by Judy Garland

“Neujeun Jajinmori” from APM Music Library 

“Main Title (from Easter Parade)” by Johnny Gree, The MGM Studio Orchestra & The MGM Studio Chorus 

“Oppaneun Punggakjaengiya” by Park Hyang-rim

“Overture (from Summer Stock)” by MGM Orchestra 

“You Wonderful You (from Summer Stock)” by Gene Kelly and Judy Garland

Episode 7 – I Am.

“A Message From The Man In The Moon” by Josephine Baker 

“Baby Let’s Make Some Love” by The Penguins 

“Besame Mucho” by Josephine Baker 

“Tear The Roof Off” by Moonshine (Extreme Music Library)

“Piel Canela” by Josephine Baker 

“Better To Miss You” by FirstCom Music Library

“Bam-A-Lam” by Roy Milton Orchestra with Mickey Champion

“Lady Marmalade” by LaBelle

“Fire” by Mother’s Finest 

“Sinnerman” by Alice Smith

Episode 8 – Jig-a-Bobo

“Cruel Summer” by Bananarama

“Wee Small Hours” by APM Music Library

“Stop Dat Knocking” by Peter Di-Sante, Brian Mark, David Van Veersblick & Roger Smith

“I Put A Spell On You” by Alice Smith

“Topsy With Her Yellow Eyes” by actors

“’m here to say never again for black girls too” by Naomi Wadler at the March for Our Lives rally

“Stormy Weather” by Bilie Holiday

“Sinnerman” by Alice Smith

Episode 9 – Rewind 1921

“Avalon” by Al Jolson

“My Baby’s Foxtrot” by FirstCom Music Library

“Don’t Kill Dub” by Rob feat. Sonia Sanchez

“Tulsa, 1921: Catch The Fire” by composer with Janai Brugger of the Metropolitan Opera

Episode 10 – Full Circle

“Easy Living” by Billie Holiday 

“Ready Or Not” by Gizzle

“Jungle Alibi” by FirstCom Music Library

“Weary” by Solange

“Swing Out Sister” by 5 Alarm Music Library

“I Am Blessed” by Nina Simone

“Sh-Boom” by The Chords

“Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning” by Mississippi Fred McDowell

The post Lovecraft Country Soundtrack: Complete Details and Playlist appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[peterjakes]

Sam x Grizz Fanfic - ‘Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth’

Third part and possible last of ‘The sun is but a morning star’ series - grizz meets eden and its cute x

also posted of ao3; https://archiveofourown.org/works/21281282

It had been a week since Eden was born and she was thriving. Being constantly showered in affection but not only her extremely tired parents; but her extended family which included Kelly, Gordie, and Bean. Little did she know the biggest disaster of the small world of New Ham she had been born into. Things still hadn’t mellowed down; even with many trying to figure out what they were going to do to try to fix the mess they’d been landed in. This was something that was extremely worrying for Grizz. He hadn’t seen Sam since they reunited; he thought it best to give him a little bit of space, especially as he still technically had a new-born to look after. Grizz ached to see Sam but he didn’t want to disturb him or Becca. Although the tension between him and Sam had finally disappeared; he still felt as if he still couldn’t barge in on Sam and Becca. It was as if he’d ruin their little family of bliss, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

It was his third day back since arriving from the expedition and he’d spent most of that time in his room, hiding. Anyone else who had been living in his house had already cleared out when he first arrived, which was actually a blessing. Back when Allie was in charge, as part of the guard, Grizz spent most of his time at Allie’s, rarely going home (only to change or shower). He remembered how after a few weeks of Allie being mayor, Grizz and Gordie started their own little book club, just to past the time. Soon enough Bean and Becca joined in, just to listen. Then Sam. They’d all try to least have breakfast together at least once a week, like a family ritual. Gordie made coffee, Grizz the tea, Sam the toast (even though it was burnt almost every time). They’d take about menial, mundane, meaningless things. Life before New Ham. What they were going to do after graduation, how much they all hated Mr. Cam and his dumb moustache, missing their families, the normality of their lives before. Grizz took charge of watering all the plants, whilst Bean and Becca would go around the garden picking out the prettiest flowers to decorate the house. Will changed all the light bulbs whenever they broke, even though he seemed to smash most of them. If anyone was having a rough day; Grizz would leave a small but inspiring quote on their pillow or pin it to the fridge. Daily group naps became an important part of everyone’s day. They all took care of each other. But all of that was gone now. Cassandra dead. Luke, a traitor. Allie arrested. Will arrested. Becca, a mother. Sam, a father. Bean scared. Gordie alone. Grizz alone.

These thoughts floated around Grizz’s mind whenever he wasn’t thinking about Sam. Sam’s lips. Sam’s freckles all dotted perfectly on his face. Sam’s soft, soft hair. Sam’s sparkling, vivid blue eyes. He wanted to touch him again, all of him. Even just to be in his presence, Grizz pined for him. The space between them was almost becoming too much. It was as if there were oceans between the two. Grizz was being pulled down by the weight of his need for Sam. He knew he’d have to talk to Sam again. No, not ‘have to’, he wanted to. He wanted to see that special smile, the one that seemed to make Grizz forget anytime he wasn’t with Sam.

Once again, Grizz knew he’d have to be the one to make the first move, Sam had a new-born to take care of after all. He moved along his bed, reaching for his phone which was placed on the bedside table. Before typing, he quickly scrolled through the texts he and Sam had sent each other, nothing special, nothing incriminating but every single word held so much more than it first appeared. Grizz typed out the message and hit sent before he could think otherwise, not wanting to waste a moment longer.

Grizz: Hey

He flicked off the message, not wanting to see the non-existence of the three little dots and scrolled down to his last conversation with Luke. Again, meaningless. Luke had taken Grizz’s varsity jacket by mistake when they were on duty one night and was offering to swap. Grizz’s slender fingers started to type up a message but quickly deleted those words. No real words could be sent. No real words could describe the hurt Grizz felt when he realised what Luke, his best friend, had done. Yes, he felt betrayed. Luke, who’d Grizz had known since he was 7 years old. Luke, who’d Grizz had stuck by through all of those years. Luke, who was popular with everyone, but never seemed to let it go to his head. Luke, who loved Grizz like a brother. Luke, who Grizz couldn’t tell who he truly was. Luke. This intense thought was interrupted by a slight vibration coming from Grizz’s phone, to which Grizz scrambled to pick up and dropped the phone 4 times before opening up the message.

Sam: Hey; sorry I haven’t been around much. Are you okay?

Grizz: It’s fine, I’m fine. Are you? How’s Eden?

Sam: All she does is cry and poop; like Becca 😂

Sam: I want to see you; can I see you?

Grizz: Haha, I’ll tell her you said that 😉

Grizz: Of course, you can.

Sam: Come to Becca’s house later. 6?

Grizz: I’ll see you then x

As soon as Grizz sent that kiss, he regretted him. Not completely sure why, especially as he and Sam had done far more to warranty a simple ‘x’ on a text, but still. Sam and Grizz had seemed to move so fast, something that at the time Grizz wasn’t aware of. At first, it definitely wasn’t something to complain about. But the day Grizz and the group left for the expedition, only moments after he said goodbye to Sam, that bittersweet departure, he wondered how they’d gotten to where they were.

Becca’s house was the other side of town, and unfortunately for Grizz that was a sure set for him bumping into someone he really didn’t want to see. The last time Grizz had around Becca’s, it was the first time he’d been properly alone with Sam. After meeting in the library, to his Grizz’s delight, Sam had invited him round to practise some ASL. It had only been for a few hours, but Grizz had actually learned a lot. Not just about ASL.

Upon arriving at Sam’s, Grizz contemplated knocking or just walking straight back home. His nerves had started to kick in once again, something that was becoming a regular occurrence when it came to Sam. He doubted Sam even knew what he did to him. Brushing those thoughts aside, he lightly tapped on the door, as if there was a small part of him that hoped no one could hear it. Of course, he wanted to see Sam, but it had been a few days and that meant time to think. And in his current state, thinking wasn’t particularly wise.

Only a few seconds passed before the door swung open as if Sam was eagerly waiting for the other boy. Grizz was greeted by those beautiful, blue eyes, the ones that made him feel all giddy inside. When Sam looked at him with those eyes, it was as if they were made especially for him and only him. Grizz didn’t care if he never looked at anything else.

“Hey,” Grizz quickly signed to Sam, before being pulled into a big bear hug by the smaller boy, something he’d missed in their few days apart. Sam seemed to grip tightly on Grizz’s shoulders as if he never wanted to let go. Grizz was wearing his hair in one of his tight buns; a look that made Sam go absolutely crazy.

“I missed you.” Sam looked up at Grizz, his eyes glistened with complete and utter despair, which was something Sam didn’t like to see. He hadn’t expected things to go back to how they were before; that would have been stupid. It would take some time. But all they had was time.

Grizz raised his eyebrows, “It’s been two days, Sam.”  to which Sam shrugged and led Grizz to the kitchen, which Grizz hated to say was a complete tip. The table was covered in a variety of different baby essentials; baby wipes, a breast pump, nappies. Parent life he supposed.

“You’ve been busy, huh?” Grizz said, whilst picking up a loose baby wipe, frowning at the sight of it.

Grizz didn’t know much about babies. How many 18-year olds did? Grizz had never had much to do with babies or other children. Being an only child and living away from any cousins or extended family made sure of that. Grizz liked to think he was pretty good with kids, he and Luke helped out with the junior football team sometimes and he enjoyed it. He liked to think he’d be pretty good with younger children too. But he never got the chance.

“Babies,” Sam answered and yanked the baby wipe out of Grizz’s hand, throwing it aside.

“You look tired.” Grizz signed hastily, to which Sam gave a ‘no shit’ look.

“I am exhausted. All I want to do is sleep.” Grizz chuckled at that comment, edging closer to Sam, closing the gap between the two. He wanted to touch Sam again, even if only for a moment. Skin on skin. Something. Just something.

Sam waited a moment before asking his next question, unsure whether it would be too raw still. “Do you want to meet her?” Sam couldn’t think of anything better, than seeing Eden in Grizz’s arms. That was what his dreams were made of.

“What?” This had caught Grizz off guard; something that had happened quite a lot when it came to Sam. Grizz couldn’t explain what he did to him, but he wasn’t going to deny that he enjoyed it. The natural path for this meeting to go would likely have included meeting Eden, but this thought hadn’t crossed Grizz’s mind. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought or didn’t care about Eden, but there had been more important things for Grizz to worry about. Firstly, figuring out how the fuck everything had turned to shit so quickly. And how he could protect Sam.

“Eden. You wanna see her?” Sam cocked his head, not wanting to pressure Grizz into anything, but making it pretty clear that he would absolutely love to see it.

Not wanting to disappoint Sam, Grizz slowly nodded, trying to seem as eager as he could at that moment. “I..uh…yeah, yeah.”

“Sure? You don’t have to.” Sam knew this was still difficult for Grizz. Sure, Sam wasn’t the biological father, but he was Eden’s father and he would be for the rest of his life. He never wanted to hurt Grizz or make life hard, but he didn’t want to separate the two sides of his life. And Grizz holding Eden was something he had to see. Desperately.

“Yes, Sam. I want to see her.” Grizz signed carefully, wanting to make sure that Sam understood that he wasn’t going to be awkward. How could he? It wouldn’t be fair of him.

Sam nodded, “Okay.” And pulled Grizz towards the staircase near the back of the house, Grizz hadn’t paid much attention to the interior the last time he was here. He obviously had other things on his mind at the time, which had been on his mind ever since he’d spoken to Sam properly. But the house was quaint, relatively small and had that ‘homely’ smell Grizz could only dream of when he was growing up.

The two entered Sam and Becca’s room, which is occupied by a very exhausted sleeping Becca and gurgling Eden. Grizz stopped dead, like a deer in traffic lights when he first saw Sam pick up Eden. He looked so natural, cradling her in his arms. This image, such a perfect image, still brought some sadness to Grizz.

“She’s beautiful.” Grizz signed this, putting special emphasis on ‘beautiful’, unsure if he’d actually signed it right. He’d been practising this sign specifically after last seeing Sam. He had a feeling he would be using it more often.

“We think so too, perfect little angel apart from when she starts screeching. Loses her charm a little.” Sam whispered this, obviously not wanting to stir the small child. He moved closer to Grizz, delicately placing Eden in Grizz’s strong arms.

“Oh, she could never,” Grizz mused, looking down at Eden, giving her a small smile. She was so small, so tiny, so soft, so clean. She seemed to stop stirring as if she felt so calm in his arms. Looking down at this perfect being, Grizz couldn’t understand how anything could be bad again.

Sam gave Grizz a tired smile and motioned to take Eden back. Grizz complied, carefully handing Eden back to Sam, cradling her head as he did. “She has her eyes, Becca, don’t you think?” Sam nodded again, his eyes started to droop ever so slightly, whilst placing Eden back in her crib. He stared down at her for a few seconds, as if he was in his own little world, waiting for her to drift off once again.

“You need to sleep, Sam.” Grizz interrupted Sam’s thoughts, whatever they were, placing his hand on Sam’s right shoulder, wrapping his fingers down, slotting in perfectly with Sam’s skin. Sam brushed him off, physically and mentally, frowning. Of course, he needed sleep. Understatement of the century. But everyone needed sleep. Grizz doubted anyone slept a goodnight’s sleep the day the expedition group came back. Everyone was filled with worry. Gordie had visited Grizz after dinner that first night back, briefly filling him in on the events. That had scared Grizz. But that wasn’t the main thing. People had stopped going to the cafeteria, only a handful turned up for that night’s dinner. This just reminded Grizz of when Cassandra died; they had just managed to sort it out before it got any worse. But Grizz didn’t think they’d be so lucky this time.

“I’m serious. You look like shit.”

“Is that how you charm all your boyfriends?” Sam muses before realising what he said, quickly looking at Grizz, a worried look started to appear on his face. “I didn’t-“stuttered Sam, wondering why he ever said anything when he was around Grizz. It was like his brain didn’t work.

“Right…” Grizz couldn’t help but a chuckle a little but tried his best to keep it in, not wanting to embarrass Sam. Quickly changing the subject, Grizz interjected, “But seriously, if you don’t go to bed right now, I’m gonna have to carry you.” Now that was a threat. Grizz wasn’t even sure if that was possible. Sure, Sam wasn’t the biggest guy in the world, he was quite a few inches shorter than Grizz, but who wasn’t? From his 13, Grizz had always been the tallest in his class, that’s what made him so good at football. It was just easy. But that world seemed so far away, and nothing in his life now was easy.

Inching away from Grizz, Sam started to pick up some of Eden’s things; a baby pink blanket that had seen better days, the raggedy elephant plush that Gordie had gifted them and a single dummy. Grizz could tell Sam was doing his best to ignore him, but it became obvious that he was failing.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” Grizz said this more sternly, he was genuinely concerned about the amount of sleep Sam was getting. No one was sleeping properly, but still, Sam looked like he was about to collapse.

Sam shook his head, moving away from Grizz once again. “I need to keep an eye on Eden.” That’s all he had done for the past few days. It was the least he could do for Becca, who had carried Eden all that time, and was so damn exhausted. It wasn’t like it was a chore though, Sam relished every moment he spent with her. He never knew anything could be so precious. So precious but so loud. So, tiring.

Grizz knew this tactic; he’d himself used it before when blocking Sam out. This was one of the things he’d regretted. He never wanted that, quite the contrary actually, he wanted them to be honest with each other.

“Nope. No way. Bedtime.” Grizz only signed ‘bedtime’, placing his right hand onto his left eye, and tapped the top of his wrist, where one of his hair ties was wrapped around.

“But-“

“I’ll look after her. Least I can do.”

“You’re tired too.” Sam sighed, he didn’t want to ever put Grizz out or make him uncomfortable. Sure, Eden was adorable, and no one in their right mind could resist her. But Sam knew it was still a delicate subject and he didn’t want to force that onto Grizz. Then again, it was becoming very clear that Sam could not work with next to no sleep. And who was he to argue?

“I’ll come join you, later. When she’s settled. Deal?”  Grizz signed all of this, allowing his fingers to move swiftly and smoothly, once again unsure whether he’d done it right, there still seemed so much he needed to learn. That was something he wanted to request from Sam, but in his current state, thought it best to wait until Sam could actually stand up without his eyes drooping as if his eyes would roll out of his head.

“You. Are. So. Annoying.” Sam enunciated these words, poking Grizz’s chest with his index finger each time. He knew he’d might as well give in, Grizz didn’t seem to be wavering and Sam never wanted to fight with him again, that had been far too exhausting.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go, before I have to pick you up and carry you there.” Grizz started to manoeuvre Sam towards the door, giving him a slight push, to which Sam complied. If he was being completely honest, going to sleep was something he’d wondered if he’d ever experience again. He never knew babies could be so demanding. Cute, but demanding.

“Bossy.” Sam signed, placing his index finger on and off of his chin three times, almost aggressively. This quite new to Grizz, he’d only ever seen Sam sign with an almost calmness, even when he was angry, he never seemed to raise his voice. Which was something he loved about him.

“Stop winging.” Grizz scoffed just as Sam directed them to the only other bedroom in the house, which Grizz quickly realised must have been Becca’s moms’ room. The remnants of a middle-aged woman living there were still quite clear; the odd photo of Becca and her mom, a single David Bowie vinyl and a plush velvet throw sprawled across the king-sized bed. Even though Becca’s mom had likely never even been in this version of her room, Grizz felt slightly uncomfortable, as if he was invading her privacy.

Sam flopped down on his bed, star fishing across the sheets. Grizz turned to leave the room but was quickly pulled down on top of Sam. Sam let one of his hands go from Grizz’s wrist, placing it on the back of his neck, slowly caressing it. He gave him a little smirk, before crashing their lips together, almost in slow motion, like a blurred dream. This kiss was fuller, Sam seemed to have complete control, moving his tongue around Grizz’s mouth, wrapping it perfectly against the other boy’s. his hungry mouth melded into the other. Making sure he didn’t pull away, Grizz slid his body down beside Sam, holding tightly to his head. Their lips magnetised with each other; they were naturally attracting to each other like a type of force of nature. Meant to be. Sam quickly moved his hand up towards Grizz’s head, pulling out his hair tie and gripped onto a lock of hair, pulling it slowly. Moans escaped Grizz’s mouth as the kiss developed and Sam could feel his breathlessness against his own mouth. Grizz hungrily pushed back, working his mouth against Sam’s, their tongues battling with each other, trying to pin each other down. Grizz could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and removed Sam’s other hand from his wrist to feel his face. The kiss started to slow down a little, Sam’s muscles were tiring. He slowly pulled away, but placed a short, sweet kiss on Grizz’s lips before laying back down on the bed. The two boys laid there quietly, both breathing hard.

“Now, I’m tired.”

[silencedglaive-moved]

@solrisen​.

               even during the months when summer would wane   &&   begin to trickle into autumn, the lands of the fire nation remained warm   &&   nearly suffocating with their humidity. to celebrate the close of the season, her grandfather had brought her   &&   his wife here, to the beaches of ember island, to escape the business of caldera while the opportunity still presented itself. besides, it was an acknowledgment of hotaru’s return to live with them for the remainder of the year. they were doing this for her.

               it still, somehow, felt a little hollow.

            there’s a chill blowing in from the sea, one which makes her pause, pale hands gliding over thin arms, trying to stir warmth just beneath her skin. restless nights led to restless mornings. restless mornings were often spent watching the sun rise from the shoreline, sand uncomfortably weaving its way into her nightgown, her hair, her very bones, it felt like. slowly, gradually, hues of sandstone   &&   red rise, trickling into the oceans, bleeding across the rippling midnight blues. the reflection shimmers   &&   glows under the waking sky. rays of warmth, of life, reach far across the endless ocean, beginning to light the coast with its confidence   &&   power. hotaru inhales deeply, breathing in the very energy that the rising sun weaves into her muslces, rolling her shoulders back   &&   closing her eyes, allow this moment's tranquility to wash over her. limbs, no longer weary   &&   leaden but electric   &&   invigorated, unfold, bare soles burying in sand as she stands. these were the moments in which she felt most connected to herself, her nation, her element, standing before the sun as it awakens from its own long slumber, blessing the day with a new morning   &&   the fire in her veins with strength.

             blacks turn to purples turn to warm, warm oranges. wiggling her toes, she stretches, arms high overhead   &&   reaching, as though to grasp the very blanket of sky itself   &&   wrap it snugly around her little frame. they fall in large exaggerated arcs, her fingers straightening as little licks of blue form at their tips, extinguishing in time with her exhale. her stance widens, heels finding purchase in the loose grains, body finding comfort in the familiar position. with a swift motion, she twists, right leg rising in a sweeping motion as she spins   &&   creates a wide bow of azure. it’s followed by another, then another. a series of graceful, sharp kicks, one right after the other, building in speed, in force   --   until the exertion catches her breath in her lungs. hotaru stutters, almost choking on the hitch, in the same instant in which the beach seemingly slips from under her. tactlessly, she falls on her side, tingles of shock immediately traveling up the length of her arm. the sand is a soft cushion, but its cruel against her skin as jagged pieces press uncomfortably into her arm. 

               ❛   oh for   ...   ❜    she mumbles to herself, sitting up, legs sprawled out. pallid fingers brush quickly at her bicep, trying to rid herself of as much of the offending beach as possible. 

            “   your flames are blue.  “

             the observation startles her, little raven jumping slightly at the rough voice that comes from her left. she turns sharply, an explanation playing on the edge of her lips   -   an excuse, maybe   ?   though all thoughts halt instantly at the sight of her observer. of the rough, damaged skin consuming most of the left half of his face. recognition widens already round violets. the banished   -   restored   ?   -   prince. who has been on the beach for who knows how long, observing her, observing her morning ritual as she greets the day with flame   &&   excitement. before she can apologise or even bow, he surprises her yet again.

            “   ...   but your form is terrible.   ”

             silence hangs long   &&   heavy between them. hotaru feels her breathing gradually correct itself, one hand absently falling to rest just below the dip in her collar, as though to urge her lungs   &&   heart to steadiness. emotions flicker though her too quickly to process. shock, confusion, understanding, embarrassment, annoyance. the defensiveness takes hold of her with tight, unrelenting fingers   &&   she lets it. irritation scrunches up her nose, lips curling back   &&   nearly unveiling a section of teeth in her attempt at ferocity. 

            ❛   well i didn’t know i was performing for an audience   !   ❜   hotaru insists, suddenly feeling very affronted by his presumptions. she didn’t know that someone, especially someone of the royal family, would be watching her practices. as an after thought, another barb sticks itself into the tip of her tongue.   ❛  and i haven’t exactly had a formal teacher   !   ❜

[aricastmblr]

Tul tomando fotos a Mew

[heliotrope-journey]

Fridays with Cronix

Good evening, vampire hunters.

Cronix has done such a marvelous job with the series so far that we thought we would start featuring a segment on our blog called, "Weekdays or Weekends with Cronix" where we will showcase his finished products, what our plans for them are going to be down the road, and have the whole day revolve around our star digital artist. Don't get used to it, though. He's a busy dude and our budget can be tight so this will be a once every blue moon thing. In the meantime, let's see what he's got;

An important word of advice that I learned from working with Cronix after I assigned him to illustrate his take on Treyton and Michaela is that I must learn to expect the unexpected. As artists, we must be spontaneous and passionate with our work by not only viewing the world through our own eyes, but also going wild with imagination. While I was on vacation, Cronix demonstrated that he embodies these characteristics by transforming these vampire hunters into monstrous creatures, an idea that wasn't originally planned for their respective stories. It surprised me so much that was brainstorming during walks around the shore in between my week long photo shoots, wondering how these concepts can work. Then I realized that they both had fewer obstacles that challenged their abilities to keep their tainted sorcery in check and put their friendships with the people they cared about to the test.

Does anyone remember when I established the negative effects that black magic can have on a mortal? If you either don't remember it or haven't read it at all, we got you covered. We saved you a ton of time spent scrolling by enclosing a link to the article. No need to thank us. ;) Michaela is well aware that her mental state is fragile so under normal circumstances, she has no trouble leaving emotions to the side. She rarely loses her composure even when facing situations where she's had falling outs with old friends and ex-lover. At the start of her quest, however, she had slain the reclusive cyclops, Polyphemus, in his hideout in the Victoria Oakley Bridge. His death allowed her to acquire water magic in large quantities, allowing her to seamlessly manipulate the element and survive underwater. In comparison to other types of elemental magic she would acquire later on, water magic has made it the hardest for the young swordswoman to control her emotions.

Bearing in mind Michaela has not been blessed by the likes of Poseidon nor has a blood relation to him or another ocean deity, prolonged use will temporarily transform her into a humanoid water elemental for a minute and a half. While Michaela is mostly invincible in that form and her water-based sorcery is far more dangerous, she loses her sense of self, causing her to go berserk. This side of her is a figment of the ocean’s wrath during a storm. It is a transformation that shouldn’t be triggered too often because Michaela can accidentally harm innocent lives assuming they’ll attack her next. She remembers everything that occurs while in this state and is not above remorse if she caused unnecessary, long-lasting damage. The stronger a water-based weapon Michaela is currently using, the faster she triggers this transformation so she needs to be mindful of that power. Her water elemental form is a testament of how badly black magic can affect its user if they let that power go to their head.

During gameplay in Heliotrope Journey: Son of a Hustler, Michaela's water elemental form will be enabled the same way that Frederick is transformed into a mimic after touch a coin bearing the likeness of the Dark Lord. Until that chapter is reached, Michaela will be temporarily wearing a different outfit.

Treyton's predicament is different because his transformation is not the result of black magic per se, but an external source that shared a body with him some years before the harvest moon ritual involving him and his older brother took place. The Sock and Buskin mask seen on his T-Shirt is a complicated parasitic dark spirit that relies heavily on a host body to stay alive, but only if the host themselves is alive. As you probably know, Treyton struggles with a curse that makes him subconsciously forgo eating and he starves himself. Throughout the prototype episodes, his condition is heavily focused on and the origins of it were finally revealed after his encounter with Mihnea cel Rau.

The role that the dark spirit plays is that should Treyton come close to death from starvation, it easily takes control of his body and feeds on black magic that gets converted to energy even if it means slaughtering a mythological creature to do so. Treyton has little control of himself in that state, but with a smidge of willpower once he has enough “nutrients” given to him by the dark spirit, he’ll be able to snap out of it and it retreats back to his T-Shirt. It doesn’t seem parasitic because the spirit is keeping his body alive, but it is still imperative that he eats actual food to combat his condition. It is feared that if Treyton makes no effort and lets the spirit gives him the nutrition his body needs, it would allow the dark spirit to completely take control and chances are he wouldn’t be able to revert back to normal.

For the time being, Laifl, Annalise, Ike, Clara, and Professor Onionhead are oblivious to the spirit's existence, but they nonetheless still coax Treyton to eat a healthy diet to delay the Veiled Nocturne's desire to claim his soul. Our heroes are, thankfully, being safe than sorry.

And last but not least, a new version of The Heliotrope Chronicles can be previewed on my channel. Anthony Cronander's skeleton key will allow players to unlock doors leading to boss battles and Cronix has fashioned crystal bullets to contain with flying enemies. Up next; the actual boss fight. Will you be ready to face it? D:

Thank you for your support as always and have a great weekend!

Sincerely,

WN

[dahlthir-blog]

    ➜ Leviathan has been accepted!

Welcome to Dahlthir, Reid! Your application for Leviathan has been approved. You’ll have 5 days to turn in your blog to the masterlist. If you need more time, you can send us a message!

The character portion of the application can be found under the cut. I’m crying! Leviathan’s background reads so well as its own independent tale. The way you inserted information in, describing the different lore behind Leviathans, really complimented the rest of the writing! Squall sounds so cool, too! I yell!! I love the parts of the world you’ve made aaaa!!

( CHARACTER SECTION )

Other Characters: –

Faceclaim(s) & Series: Hans Christian Anderson | Fate Series

Character Name: Leviathan Housing: Personal housing Age: 500.

Level: 5

Appearance:

Leviathan is a sea serpent who retains the form of a 13 year old boy. His human body is fragile but lithe. He has azure colored hair and celtic blue eyes. Up close, his eyes appear to glister in the same way as a certain peaceful sea he once settled in years ago. When he’s touched by water, shimmering pale blue scales will replace only the wet human skin. It is, unfortunately, something Leviathan can’t control. But at the very least, no matter how many scales spread across his human flesh, being touched by water won’t revert him back to his true form unless he wishes to. His true form is snake-like and at length, over 65 feet long. His scales, which dare one call pretty, are unique as they appear pale blue but reflect other shades of blue at different angles. His naturally shimmering scales make it seem like his body is surrounded by a thin layer of white light.

Are they a part of the Adventurer’s Guild? (Recruit or Full Member): No —- How long have they been part of the Guild:  –

Warnings: brief mention of death by drowning

Personality:

( + )  deep thinker ( + ) sympathetic ( + ) courteous 

( + / - ) curious

( - )  perfectionist ( - ) self-limiting ( - ) lazy

Background:

‘The storm never stops. The winds ruthlessly rock your ship back and forth in the same spot, never letting you move on as it chips away from your ship. And even if you domanage to pull away, you’ll either get caught by the endless number of whirlpools or eaten by Squall’s boss.

The Kraken’

–So goes the rumor of the treacherous and merciless ocean, Squall.

It’s a story which gives the cowardly a good scare and a dream to the young and the bold adventurers of the sea. But only the seasoned adventurers know that the tale doesn’t end there. Beneath the raging stormy waters of Squall, and even further below the abysmal sea where the Kraken’s den most certainly lies, dwells the sea serpents.

The discovery of the sea serpents in Squall happened by chance. A large ship captained by a man and his wife decide to put themselves to the test, to be the first to venture through Squall and it’s harsh endless storms and field of whirlpools and all other vicious perils crafted by the waters. The captains and their crew were famous for overcoming challenges like this, having returned two months prior from a deadly trip to a cursed island with a large heap of treasure after solving the island’s greatest riddle behind its curse. And after hearing about Squall, they wanted to ‘solve’ it as well by figuring out a way to cross its waters. The beginning of their journey past Squall was rough, but soon enough the unbeatable challengers were bearing with the storm with ease and had overcome the winds that pulled their ship into it’s own rhythm after a few days. With the winds conquered, the challengers ship turned left and right and around the whirlpools. Not once did the infamous Kraken appear. It seemed like an easy win at that point. Could the story of Squall be nothing else but an exaggerated tale once told by inexperienced adventurers? As the crew merrily celebrated an early victory, the captains couldn’t bring themselves to believe all was truly over in this adventure of theirs. It couldn’t have been, not when the two of them knew fully well that the adventures they chose together were always more dangerous and thrilling than this. And then he appeared. No one could believe what they saw but there was no denying the large beast who had risen from the sea right by the port of their ship and dove back into the waters from the starboard. Yes, denying the sight of the large and endlessly long body arched right above their ship would’ve been impossible for any crew member that survived afterward. Petrified by the beast, no one noticed the second and third beast appear until the third beast actively struck their ship. The ship rocked dangerously as large tentacles grasped the vessel by its main deck and began to crush it in its hold. Of the three beasts that’d appeared, two were the same but this one had been the Kraken finally making its long expected appearance. With its appearance, the ship didn’t even last for 5 minutes and there was no hope for the crew members anymore. It is said they were all immediately swallowed up by the sea and drowned.

Except for two. The captains lived on only because as they fell into the water together hand in hand, they were swept up by the claws of the first beast. It was then that the two of them fainted as they could hardly keep up with the events they and their crew had been dragged into. But the last thing one of the two noticed before they went unconscious was the beautiful pale blue scales of the large snake-like beast. She whispered the name ‘Leviathan’ and closed her eyes.

—–

What lies beyond Squall is a sea where the waves are gentle and as the sun rises and falls, the waters look as though they are sparkling. If Squall is treacherous and ugly then this could be called wondrous and beautiful.

When the woman finally regained consciousness, she found her and her husband stranded on a large rock in the middle of the beautiful sea, and almost fainted once more at the sight of the large beast in front of them. The woman gasped the name, ‘Leviathan’, once more and as if she believed ‘Leviathan’ would speak back to her, she carefully asked the beast ‘Is that who you are?’. 

Leviathan. A sea serpent, sometimes referred to as a wingless dragon, that ruled the sea unlike the winged dragons who ruled the skies. Many knew Leviathan as a sea creature who caused destruction wherever it appeared but because no one has ever seen such a beast before, they all believed the creature’s existence was a myth. 

Yet the awestruck woman called this beast ‘Leviathan’ not because she believed in the infamous story, but because she was aware of a different story of Leviathan that very few knew.

Leviathan. A sea serpent with beautiful scales, so pale at first glance but so beautiful up close when your eyes could see each scale reflect a different shade of the ocean’s color. It was as though Leviathan was the entity of all the different seas in the world. The graceful beast would bring about great fortune, perhaps even the blessing of the sea, wherever it appeared.

Unfortunately, the woman received no answer. Instead the sea serpent peered at her and then dove back into the water. Later on, her husband would stir awake and the woman would tell him of what she saw. The two would come to the decision that in order to respect the fortune Leviathan had graced upon them, their journey at sea would end here. They would tell only trusted adventurers of the beasts they saw, but only few would know one of the beasts had been called ‘Leviathan’. 

—–

Leviathan?

The nameless wingless beast who understood human dialect was confused.

Who is Leviathan? It couldn’t have been him, a nameless sea serpent.

The wingless beast who had no method of responding to the human retreated into the foreign waters.

—– 

The beast without a name recalled the events that’d taken place. An exchange gone wrong. A responsibility he didn’t want being shoved into his direction. ‘The clan needs a new leader’, they’d said, but what’s a nameless serpent like him to do about that? Shouldn’t they elect a serpent with more status? –Of course not. To the sea serpents, names and status were already too much of a burden. What sea serpent with a name and status would want to direct a bunch of other sea serpents? A sea serpent with a name and status couldn’t be bothered. So why then do the sea serpent even need a leader? Order. Because of order. The sea serpents were strange creatures that needed to believe a system existed between each of them. Yet the ones with a name couldn’t be bothered to take that responsibility themselves for some reason.

So the duties were turned down by many for the same exact reason until finally, the wingless beast was asked. He declined at first but because he was nameless and the sea serpents were growing antsy, they attempted to force the responsibilities onto him anyway. But before any sort of ritual could begin, the wingless beast fled, awakening the Kraken as he was chased by but one single sea serpent ( what lazy creatures the sea serpents were ). He didn’t know why he plucked the two humans and took off. Perhaps it was because despite how desperate he was to escape, he pitied the humans who had to suffer. Whatever reason it was, it mattered little to him for the next mere 13 years of dwelling deep below the foreign sea that calmed his nerves.

—– 

Eventually, the wingless beast grew tired of dwelling on the ocean floor of this beautiful sea. He remembered the sky he saw 13 years ago. How marvelous it’d been! He had to see it again. Surely it would be fine. Feeling courageous ( as if any sea serpent would come looking for him, right? ), the sea serpent swam up with little concern of where he would rise from so long as he was able to see that magnificent blue sky again.

When the beast had risen up to see the sky, he heard the sound of a gasp and a name. ‘Leviathan’, the human child said in awe. The beast quickly turned to face the human child who looked up at him with fascination. That name again. Why is a nameless serpent like him being called such a mystifying name by yet another human? Would he know if he asked? He can’t the way he is now. The serpent’s jaw opened. Words. A voice. He desired those more than anything else at that moment. But could it be granted to a nameless wingless beast? He’d seen named sea serpents grow bored and decide they would venture the lands with the humans but never before had a nameless done the same.

He grew frustrated. He had to try it anyway.

‘A voice. A body. Give it to me.’ The serpent ceased any useless thoughts as he tried to fulfill his desire to speak the same way as this human child. To stand the same way as this human child.

The sea serpent succeeded, and his ethereal snake-like body was transformed into that of young boy who looked as though he was the entity of the sea with his blue hair and eyes, and arms and legs marked with scales that seemed to reflect many different shades of blue. The human child continued to stare in awe at what he’d seen. But the moment hardly lasted and what happened right after was almost comical: the human had suddenly looked away, embarrassed, while the naked serpent found that they could hardly stand on their own two human legs and toppled over with a yelp.

Seeing the serpent fall onto his knees, the human child seemed to have forgotten about their embarrassment and knelt down quickly by the serpent’s side. Hesitantly, they put a hand on the serpent’s now human shoulder. They asked the serpent if they were okay, and once more they referred to the serpent by the name ‘Leviathan’.

The serpent was frustrated again – he couldn’t stand properly and this human had called him Leviathan yet another time. “I do not have a name.” The sea serpent snapped. His first words. “Yes you do,” the boy carefully replied “you’re name is Leviathan.”

—–

The human child ended up having to carry the sea serpent back with him to his ‘summer home’ ( the wingless beast hadn’t the slightest idea why humans lived in more than one home ). The human chatted away, hardly leaving any room for the wingless beast to feel at least a little embarrassed about having to be carried.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting Leviathan! You’re scales are so pretty! Just like the story my mom told me! Oh but it looks like they’re fading away. Is that supposed to happen? Do you need to be in water? Wouldn’t that make you like a… a mermaid! But without the tail!”

No. No actually everything coming out of this child’s mouth was embarrassing to hear.

When the two arrived, the serpent was a little startled to see that the human child’s parents were the very same humans the sea serpent had ‘saved’ on a whim 13 years ago. But he just barely catches the shocked expression on the two humans faces because he was too busy struggling out of the child’s grasp after he heard the child say “Mom look I found Leviathan! I’m gonna go dump him in the tub first and then I’ll tell you what happened!”. ( Being dropped in a tub full of water wasn’t a very fun experience. )

Afterward, when the child felt he had shared enough to his parents who readily believed everything he saw based on the mother’s own experience, the humans went to go see the sea serpent still left (locked) in the bathroom. What they saw was the sea serpent’s human body covered head to toe in those wondrous scales. The boy was the only one who readily approached the sea serpent, enchanted once more with those scales of all blue. The boy introduced himself and his family right there – the boy’s name was Squall, the father’s was Hector, the mother’s was Joan, and Squall happily added “And you are Leviathan!”

Squall was… Persistent. He would always stay by the sea serpent’s side and talk for a long time, whether the serpent was stuck in the bathroom or sitting somewhere with his feet submerged in a bucket of water. For some reason, Squall thought the sea serpent needed to constantly be in water. The wingless beast thought it was a bit of a pain.

“Stop. It’s fine. I don’t need water all the time when I’m like this. Just what do you take me for? A fish?”

The boy almost dropped the bucket of water he was holding. He looked at  the serpent with pure joy and blurted out, “That’s– That’s the second thing you’ve ever said to me!”

And from then on, Squall began to ask the sea serpent questions, hoping to hear the sea serpent’s voice again and again.

“Where did you come from?” “How come you can turn human? And you look like you’re my age! But shorter. Sorry, sorry, don’t get mad– But hey, does that mean you’re gonna get older?” “Leviathan, has anyone ever told you you’re scales are pretty? Huh? What’s wrong? Hey, why are you hiding? It’s true!”

But there was one question that stuck out the most.

“Leviathan, don’t you ever want to go back to the sea? Wait that came out wrong– Hey, wait, don’t look like that. I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to ask. How come you’ve stuck around for so long? Summer’s already almost over.”

Why did the serpent stick around in this human form of his? Originally, the serpent meant to ask Squall why he called him ‘Leviathan’, but instead the serpent’s gotten all caught up in this boy’s pace so much that he responded to the name ‘Leviathan’ without any hesitation or confusion as if it were truly his own. But that isn’t right. A nameless beast just doesn’t getused to being called a name. It had to be bestowed onto him.

“I don’t have a name, you know.”

“You don’t have a… Yes you do. It’s Leviathan, isn’t it?”

That answer again. How frustrating.

“Then, where did the name ‘Leviathan’ come from?”

“A story. It’s about a sea serpent with scales just like yours.”

“And so you thought I was Leviathan just because of that?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, you really do match up with the story.”

“Ridiculous. That story doesn’t have anything to do with me. I don’t have a name.”

“You’re saying that again? Fine then how about this– If you really aren’t Leviathan, then why don’t you become Leviathan? It should be easy.”

“…”

“From now on, you’re name is ‘Leviathan’. Now you can’t say you don’t have a name anymore” 

What a simple child, but for some reason ‘Leviathan’ didn’t mind that. 

And so Leviathan continued to live with this human family even after summer passed. Every once in a while, Leviathan went to the sea but never for very long. Nonetheless, sightings of his presence spread, and if anyone knew his name was Leviathan, it was because of Squall who spread the kinder ‘story of Leviathan’ he faithfully believed in since childhood.

Roughly 5 years later, Squall and Leviathan part ways with Joan and Hector, and move together in Dahltir. Leviathan sometimes disappears from town to visit the sea whenever Squall (that adventure loving fool who decided to join the guild) takes on a quest, but it wouldn’t be unusual to find Leviathan in Antheia’s Spring or wandering around the outskirts of town.

General Powers/Abilities/Unusual Traits Description:

No longer a nameless sea serpent, the water faithfully acts to his bidding when he is in his true form. He can manipulate torrents of water, disrupt the ocean waves and cause whirlpools and unforgiving tsunamis, and even raise the sea to create his own chamber of water should he ever need to rise from the water. Though wingless, he can levitate and take to the skies for a while but he only ever does so if the sea waits for him directly below.

In his human form, he can beckon any traces of nearby sources of water and manipulate them however he wishes to. When he’s bored, he likes to levitate a short thin stream of water and spin it around lazily with his finger.

Specific Powers/Abilities/Traits of Note

He can use water to heal wounds

Can purify water with a mere touch

His human form can breathe under water

Extra:

Leviathan has been in his human form for about 5 years but still has the body of a 13 year old. Apparently, his body ages at an extremely slow pace.

[aworldbuildingportfolio]

Excerpts from Star Culture Notes

A star alter is called a katherzua, or “the burning place”.

Kathurza’s are carved out of one solid stone piece and consist of several square stairs and one birdbath like structure on top. The stone is blessed before carving and must be done perfectly. If any mistake is made, the whole thing must be pulverized and the dust is collected for other things as it is still considered sacred.

Katherzuas are at the center of all Star temples, present in all star houses, and are considered the most sacred of objects in star culture.

These alters are always made of either obsidian or quartz-like stone, with an opalite stone on top that hovers above a bit filled with water.

The stone for Katherzuas used to be transported by a meteorite, and the ground it struck altered to be the temple sight, considered chosen- and sacred space is scared space is sacred space regardless. Until that is, too large of a Katherzua stone was sent to earth and wiped out the dinosaurs. Then alternate methods needed to be chosen for transport.

It is a strongly held belief that all Katherzuas are connected.

~

Lovers in star stories never come to happy ends.

At best they die.

At worst… well… you don’t really want to know worst.

Let’s just say that no one dreams of growing up and falling madly in love with anything- not even something as insignificant as a brownie.

~

The Council of the Stillness is a pseudo-monastic order made up mostly of starkin, though it is open to beings of all species. These individuals are said to be both blind and deaf, communicating with the outside through oracles, and some variations of a braille and BSL type system. Their goal is mediation in order to “feel the turning of the universe” with themselves as both edge and center, inside and everywhere at once. Only those without the use of all their senses are said to be able to purify their minds enough to reach this state.

Theoretically, they seek the best in themselves and in each being- and focus on ways to call forward that version of ourselves and our world.

However, no one has heard from or seen the Council of the Stillness or any of its members in millennia so they are now largely regarded as a myth.

~

Court Color Code:

Stars wear white

Elders wear cream or gold

Nobility wear blue

Polaris wears black

Weavers wear grey or silver

Terrestrials wear variations of brown or reddish-brown

Blinded stars wear purple

Old stars are considered honorarily wise and wear gold sashes with green broaches

Mother and Father stars wear gold sashes with blue broaches

Members of the mysterious Council of the Stillness wear red… but no one has actually seen one of them. So they are probably just a myth.

Celibate stars also wear red broaches

~

Regarding weather in the Sphere:

“It depends on where you are.”

“If you’re in the court proper, or one of the populated areas, they’re quite warm. not all of them are hot exactly, but the kind of warm that makes you feel comfortable with the idea of slipping into warm water, or out of whatever you’re wearing with the assurance that you won’t be cold. This is carefully balanced, most of the time. Some stars, of course, choose to bring parts of their auras with them so that they can be exceptionally warm if they desire, and so the areas around them are usually warmer, but you might not notice unless you have contact directly with their skin.”

“In the outer regions, the spaces between constellations, districts, houses- these places are very cold. On the outer edge, its like autumn but as the glow of the court fades you walk straight into winter, where the warmth is provided only by warm furs and sudden cracks of life energy in the cosmos. There is almost no rain, and no snow, no precipitation of any kind, but there is wind. Wind storms and soft breezes all around the sphere. And a certain dull roar that is its own weather. Like the scraping of a glacier, or the roar of a waterfall of large even the moon would look small in comparison. I do not know what makes the sound, but you feel it. Everyone does.”

~

There are lots of kinds of beings in Salma’s world. These generally fit into a number of certain categories- categories which introducing one at a time is no longer working for me. So, as best I can list them, here they are.

starkin (stars, weavers, etc.) shadowkin (this includes most traditional monsters- demons, ghosts, vampires) humans earthkin (these include furies, dryads, fauns, earthgods, shifters, elves…) waterkin (mermaids, nyaids…) other (magical peoples) deathkin (reapers, soulcatchers- this type is also called soulkin) beings of the ultimate (this is pretty much angles- anything that serves the ultimate deity)

~

There was once a civilization devoted to the stars in what is northern Africa.

They had high rates of interaction with the race, and developed the summoning rituals- but at a cost.

A summoning was done incorrectly and a blinded star was summoned stella en aura (that is, in aura- the aura being the fire part) and the whole of the civilization was burned away in an instant, leaving only hundreds of miles of desert that remain today.

Citizens who were traveling recorded the event and the rituals but these were lost to time.

~

The reason that love and death share a word in Salma’s language is that in the ancient understanding, true love was an act of death. That is, to love was to die.

Not in a physical sense, but rather in the sense that to truly love someone required the death of one’s ego in the putting of that other first in all things, or death of one’s own selfish desires or choices. This caused love to be defined as a “self-death”, which was later then shortened and lost in understanding over the years so that love and death were simply the same word.

By the time of Polaris’ take over, and with the wealth of knowledge she destroyed in order to hold power, this was all that remind. In order to keep her tight grip on a people who were very difficult to control (especially when they were bonded to each other) it was in her best interests to spread the alternate understanding that love, in fact, was an act of death itself and to be feared and avoided at all costs.

~

If combined with the right herbs and incantation, the blood of starkin can treat and relieve even the most severe of sunburns. Including those of vampires.

This however is mostly lost knowledge, and most vampires aren’t keen to try anyway.

~

Star children typically grow up in the nursery, where they are overseen by the Virgo stars. These women are then also their first teachers in most cases until the children go to court and then their constellations.

However, since the Virgo stars are strictly maidens and can not nurse, they employ a group of weaver wet nurses.

It is a fact not talked about in a polite society that these women are considered the lowest in the star system, slaves who never leave the nursery building and often have very short lifespans.

~

Blobfish are the result of a failed attempt to breed mermaid by some very, very drunk stars.

They woke up the next morning, screamed, and threw them in the earth oceans so no one would know.

But everyone already knew.

~

The Thousand Mirrors Ball used to be held yearly in a rotating star house. Every year between the high holidays of the Equinox and the First of April (Before you ask- no, I don’t know what it is, they haven’t told me.) it was done to allow the free mingling of starkin and humans. Usually invited were everyone’s favorite humans, world leaders, artists, academics, explorers… the best in every field and culture were brought together for a night. When the first world war broke out through a series of stupid decisions the court put a hold on this as a public sign of disapproval. When it went on to kill almost an entire generation they ended it in a sign of disgust. Secretly though, it continued in smaller scales and secret for a few more decades until there were not enough weavers to organize it efficiently. 

~

Starkin often use “the dreamer” as an oath the way humans do wherever we would use a name or approximation of one.

~

There is no banishing spell for starkin.

There are a few summoning spells (though these are ill-advised and have burned at least one great civilization off the face of the earth) but those same priests or magicians who managed to learn or write those spells never quite figured out how to send the being back home except to have it go on its own terms.

There is an opposite spell to one such summoning, however, it is not a banishing spell so much as a rite of abandonment. Its sister spell was concocted to create binding relationships between specific beings and groups of people. The rite of abandonment is meant to break these bonds, but the result is much like a messy divorce. Best possible scenario the being leaves and the group loses all rights and protections provided by them. Less positive outcomes include an untethered being wandering around causing trouble, or the overpowered version of a temper tantrum.

It’s much safer to just hope they forget about you.

~

To starkin, nothing quite inspires terror like the threat and wonder of antimatter.

The History of Antimatter:

Once this was a form of dark power that was available to any who had the discipline to harness it. The star mothers were careful to keep an eye on those who were practitioners and had an appetite for destruction.

Since the first and second antimatter wars though, and the following rebellion, the use of antimatter had become only more and more restricted and difficult to learn. In this age, it is only the stars of the Virgo constellation that are trained in the use of this.

The Uses of Antimatter:

There are two main uses for antimatter magic- that to create antimatter from matter, and that to channel antimatter. Both of these today have only dark uses, while they may have once had positive applications these have been lost to history (see the Age of Excess in star history).

The act of antimatter creation from matter requires an intense amount of energy and is the ultimate execution as it is a sort of unbeing that removes a star from the nebular cycle and misplaces the soul (if a soul is to be had). Antimatter is believed to keep some form of feeling and while it has no control of itself as an entity seems to have some sense of itself. New antimatter has been known to sometimes act like an animal in pain before it collapses into itself. Fear of becoming antimatter is enough to enforce much of the law of Polaris’ reign.

The second use of antimatter magic is that of channeling antimatter. This is how a practitioner forces antimatter to interact with the material world. This molds matter to your will through a burning process and can be done artificially through the use of channeling gloves enchanted by an ancient starkin whose name has been lost to history. Only a few such pairs of these gloves exist, and all known pairs are in the possession of Polaris’ inquisitors or the Virgo stars. More than anything in this age, this form of antimatter magic is used as a form of torture (to varied ends). This again inspires great fear in most of the starkin population. It has been noted that this form of torture does not always or even often leave scarring. The lack of scarring only makes it easier to deny it’s existence in the court when convenient or to be sure who is a victim or if or rather of some other horror.

Antimatter and Celibacy:

It has been widely noted that the use of magic in any universe requires both sacrifice and discipline. This, of course, takes different shapes in different worlds and in regards to different magics. While it may be possible to harness the power of antimatter through blood sacrifice or some other form of magic, it was a matter of practicality and elegance that led to celibacy becoming the mode of sacrifice in the early days as it could be practiced alone, required no approval or scrutiny from overseeing powers, and was found to be just as powerful as other solutions. This was taught to youth seeking to learn the art (though this may once have been in regards to temporary celibacy, the histories are largely missing) and as generations passed on the favored method of harnessing the inner power then became the only method. (This is probably better though as in the antimatter wars if it had been known blood magics might have sufficed the death tolls might have been alarmingly higher while they were already far too many to be properly accounted for or justified.)

[coreymichaelsmithson]

Lanterns In A Darkened Field

Several years ago, I attended the wedding of two friends. This happened to take place in one of my favorite parts of the world … mid-coast Maine, an extraordinarily complex landscape, brutal during the winters but gorgeous from summer into fall. Its shores are quite rugged, with broken slabs of granite jutting out into the water, the rock carved into bizarre forms by the ceaseless churning of the surf. It’s a setting where one can see nature showcasing its peerless artistry, the powers of wind and water shaping stone and wood into exquisite sculptures. It’s also a good place to ruminate on the vicissitudes of fate, and one’s situation in the grand scheme of things.

The wedding itself was beautiful … simple, tasteful, and heartfelt. I love weddings, dearly, and I cared deeply about this particular couple’s happiness. But I found myself feeling increasingly anxious and out of sorts. There was lingering within me a sadness that I couldn’t shake, and I found it harder and harder to keep smiling through all the toasts and dances and rituals, the usual duties of a groomsman. It was one of those feelings that seemed to occupy the fuzzy space between other, more clearly recognizable emotions: loneliness, envy, regret.

At one point, it all became too much. I was overcome with melancholy, on the verge of tears, and so when nobody was looking I snuck away from the party to have myself a right proper breakdown. I took with me one of the tabletop decorations … a lantern, a simple glass housing with a dinky tea candle inside. Every table had one, so mine wouldn’t be missed. It didn’t provide much real illumination, certainly not enough to navigate the thick spruce woods surrounding the estate, and I don’t know exactly why I felt compelled to take it. On the edge of the woods, I let myself leak for a while, releasing my boo-hoo-hoos beneath the hooting of an owl. After I sniffled away the worst of it, I dusted myself off and took a walk.

Part of the venue’s property lay on an isthmus of sorts, a low spit of solid ground joining the mainland to a smaller hunk of rock. As the moon rose, I found myself in a small field of grass, pinched between the ocean and a lagoon. It was that special hour of twilight, when the sun has gone down but the western horizon remains fairly bright, the sky glowing in that Maxfield Parrish kind of blue, with shades of indigo directly overhead and the edges turning a dark purple. The moon rose over the ocean, its rays spilling upon grass dampened by sea spray. Beads glistened upon the blades like little diamonds. The stars above twinkled, too, though I knew this to be only an illusion created by our atmosphere.

Suddenly, I saw green lights firing up all around me. Fireflies, in amazing numbers, a whole galaxy of them, were congregating above the field. I had never seen so many in one place before. They moved and swirled and lit up in their mysterious dances, seemingly unperturbed by my presence. I walked for a while among them, making aimless circles in the wet grass, holding my lantern before me. I could hear faint echoes of the party, muffled by distance … music, laughter, a hubbub of conversation. The motors of lobster boats sputtered in the darkening water. But civilization seemed miles away. I was alone, save for the insects. For this moment, this one exquisite moment, it was just the lightning bugs, the stars, and me, all of us just lights in the night.

My twilight idyll would soon be shattered by two noisy partygoers, galumphing into the scene like a pair of moose. I went back to the party and proceeded to get completely bombed on vodka and weed. I cozied up to the bride’s family … her brother played his guitar, her sister taught me how to dance the Electric Slide, and their father electrified me with tales of seeing Judy Garland live in concert. There were many great laughs, some genuine connections forged, and I felt safe in the knowledge that my buddy, a man I loved very deeply, was casting his lot with a terrific tribe.

But the image of the fireflies stayed with me, lingering in the way that an unanswered question might haunt a room, or a secret presses against the inner lip. I couldn’t quite understand why, but the memory kept returning, again and again, and it brought with it a strange, subtle, warming kind of sorrow.

It’s taken me years to really pin down why that moment seemed so significant. I realize now what was really happening that night, and through all of the similar nights I’ve known in my long career of yearning. At that wedding, while I was trying so hard to remain cheerful for my friends, who had certainly earned their happy nuptials, I was actually grieving over a series of losses. My heart was carrying within it a long list of unrequited loves, painful yet fruitful dissatisfactions that I’d been collecting, in the way others might collect stamps or scalps. That night, I’d felt a funny kinship with all of these little glowing bugs, all of whom were searching for their mates, all of whom were trying their damnednest to shine, so that they may find true companionship. They might have died trying.

Until recently, I’d always been hoping for love to rescue me from despair, futility. I thought love would provide the incentive for self-improvement, the means to escape from bad habits, or a latticework to build stability. That night, I was holding my lantern, among all these other floating lanterns, hoping against hope that the magic, starry night would actualize my innermost desires, and that the love I thought I so richly deserved would materialize before me, hand extended, like royalty stepping out of a fancy coach.

In the years before that night, and for many years that followed, I looked for love in other people … romantic partners, intimate friendships, strangers. I hunted for love, of a sort, within the houses of red lights, those dark and throbbing places where men gather; I’ve spent hundreds upon hundreds of hours in parks, bars, cars, nightclubs, backrooms, rest stops, hotels, gas stations, saunas, steamrooms, even a monastery … digging through the strata of lust and desperation to reveal a few genuine veins of gold. I was always trying to find something that I thought had been missing in myself. I’ve squandered love, misplaced it, thrown it around like a monkey flinging poo in a zoo, and given it to those who didn’t know what to do with it. I’ve had loves that went terribly awry, loves that limped on for far too long, loves that survived a lot of carelessness, and loves that died because they just couldn’t bear the burden of unrealistic expectations.

I’ve since come to believe that empathy, rather than romance, is the key to true happiness. Kindness, more than fulfilled desire, sustains our civilization. Those of us who struggle to keep a little love for ourselves may still release great splashing quantities of it for others. We may project an outward aura of abundant, radiant friendliness, which comes easily to the hands and eyes when it is in the service of others, but does not extend inward to the benefit of our own souls. In contrast, our innermost self may feel like an arid wasteland, or a depleted garden bed, with all of the available nourishment redirected to a spouse, a child, a relative, a lover, a friend, a coworker, a neighbor, a partner … somebody more deserving of love and attention than ourselves.

For some of us, especially those who have endured far too many crushes, loving others without the expectation of reward may be the only real happiness we can ever know. Sometimes all we can do is offer our brightest lights and hope for the best. In the darkness, somebody else may see your lantern and guide themselves to safety by its beam. In the depths of suffering, the lantern of another person can be a lifesaving beacon. If you yourself can provide that light … by offering a bit of warmth, a gentle encouragement, a touch of sympathy … you could be saving another life, even if you are doing so inadvertently.

If our lanterns cannot light our own way, perhaps they may serve to light somebody else’s.

Know this, my fellow lonely hearts and losers: I see your lights. I see the candles you’ve been holding, candles for “him” or “her” or “them”, and I bless you for all your private unanswered devotion. I see your surrenders, which number among your finest works. I see the gracious yielding you’ve shown to spouses, to the preferred ones, to the winners. I see those brave (if not entirely selfless) releases, the sacrifices which will never be fully appreciated or understood by those who benefited most from them. I sense all the sweetness of yours that hasn’t yet been tasted. I see your sleepless and writhing nights, the ones that bunch your bedclothes and soak your pillows, and your long grey mornings. Yet amid all your jealousy and self-doubt I see also the first unfurling shoots of your future triumph. I see your thwarted dreams, your dashed fantasies, your senseless but enduring agonies … but I see also your transformative, beatific glory. I see you, my brokenhearted friend, in all your perfect imperfections, and I love you. And in your honor I open the shutters of my own lantern, so that I may signal to you that you are not alone, that yours is one of many hearts gleaming in this darkened field, and that in all your hopeful hungry glow you remain ever lovely. I see your steadfastness, your worthiness, and I thank you for it. You brighten the dusk for the rest of us, because your little flame, small but sincere, brings with it the comfort of fellowship. I raise my lantern for the seekers, the poor benighted souls, the lovesick fools, and I praise those who are still searching. I salute you, sad outliers who wander unkissed at the edge of every wedding. I lift my lamp for you, for me, for all of us, the fireflies … we who blink, in our plain insistent binary, the first and last and best of our love poems, each of which says, simply and softly, “Here I am, here I am, here I am.”

[onlinemeditationgurublog]

Bali's Nightly Cultural Performances

Learn more: https://dfreer.com

An evening of cultural appreciation should leave a memorable experience on your Bali travel diary. And doing so is like a picnic, for there are countless nightly traditional Balinese dance performances held on many corners of the island for you to come and watch. 

So much more than just a form of art, traditional dances in Bali are a welcoming rituals, performed to mark the start of religious ceremonies or rituals that take place in the temples, to welcome the deities and ancestors that come down to the earth whenever the ceremonies take place and also to show gratitude to the gods for their blessings. In addition to the religious purpose, traditional Balinese dances traditionally also serves as entertainment, performed in the homes of the Balinese people, especially when they're inviting neighbours and relatives for a celebration.

Now that Bali has become one of the top holiday destinations in the world, Balinese dances have also become not only entertainment for the vacationers, but also a performing art that serves as an introduction to the island's rich culture and history.

If you haven't watched a nightly Balinese dance performance, here's some of the best places to go:

ULUWATU TEMPLE

The Kecak show at Uluwatu Temple starts at sunset time. The show here is made more dramatic with a colourful gradients of the famous Uluwatu sunset. Come here early so you enjoy the breathtaking bird's eye view of the Indian Ocean, and tour the temple's premises.

GWK CULTURAL PARK

The Garuda Wisnu Kencana in Ungasan is currently in the spotlight with the recent completion of the Garuda Wisnu Kencana statue, the biggest and third tallest statue in the world. In addition to the statue, the cultural park also hosts nightly captivating Balinese dance and traditional music at the park's amphitheater.

GWK Cultural Park Jalan Raya Uluwatu, Ungasan +62 361 700 808 www.gwkbali.com

BATU BULAN

Nightly Kecak and Fire Dance performances also takes place at Sahadewa in Batubulan near Sukawati. The Kecak starts at 6.30pm and ends at 7.30pm.

Sahadewa Barong Dance Jalan SMKI No. 25 Batu Bulan, +62 361 298 607 www.sahadewabarongdance.com

TAMAN KAJA VILLAGE

In Ubud, Kecak Dance is best observed at the village temple of Taman Kaja. The temple, Pura Dalem Taman Kaja, has recently been renovated, going through a series of two-week long big ceremonies to complete the whole renovation process. The Kecak Fire and Trance Dance at the temple is held on Wednesday and Saturday nights at 7.30pm.

Pura Dalem Taman Kaja Taman Kaja Village, Ubud +62 361 970 508 www.kecakdance.com

UBUD PALACE

Nestled on a corner at the intersection in downtown Ubud, the Ubud Royal Palace is one of the most renowned places of interest in Bali. Here the Legong of Mahabharata traditional dance performance starts nightly at 7pm, with a backdrop of ornate angkul-angkul traditional Balinese gate and guardian statues.

[aricastmblr]