#The Outcast Odyssey

[koraesrambles]

Devin is looking at you judgementally because you've read my rants about comic book characters but haven't even checked out my comic.

... but also yeah, that's just his face. READ OUTCAST ODYSSEY CHAPTER 5! https://www.webtoons.com/en/canvas/outcast-odyssey/stop-being-a-bully/viewer?title_no=933154&episode_no=5

[koraesdoodles]

EPISODE 4 IS HERE. Also, look at all those shoes. I drew so many shoes this last week. I need everyone to congraulate me on actually giving my characters shoes.

[animangalover-writes]

I need more skip x norman content asap and I'm not talented enough to make my own. Somebody please heed my call.

[dukeofriven]

So often alt-Earth worldbuilding falls apart under the slightest bit of pressure: what if every human on earth from birth had a sentient, speech-capable, physical manifestation of their soul that could shape shift and eventually settled on a form that revealed some inner truth about your person would that not radically alter the course of human history? To which the answer, apparently, was 'not in any meaningful way, no.'

Live theater in the His Dark Materials universe must be wild. Surely an actor's daemon also has lines to recite, so their daemon's form probably also factors into casting decisions. Maybe some plays have vague character descriptions for daemons, but I bet other plays have really specific or central daemon characters. And sure, big-budget theaters can afford to hire a separate actor with a particular daemon to stand backstage while their daemon plays its part onstage, but community theaters don't have those kinds of resources.

Like if you're casting for Julius Caesar, surely the real historical Caesar had a pretty iconic daemon, right? Are you going to cast an actor with a pigeon daemon as Caesar and just have everyone suspend their disbelief that it's Caesar's lioness, ἁμαρτία?

[thyrinea]

Limbus Company - Nostos Theory

For a long time I’ve been a huge fan of Greek mythology, so it was natural for me to gravitate towards Outis when my friends showed me about the game Limbus Company. But knowing by heart how her source material goes, I was skeptical about how the team would be able to translate Odysseus’ travels and make it fit in an episodic method just like how they managed to do to the other sinners. 

We have so much information going on when we dive into the Odyssey, and since everything is connected through narrative, cutting a part of it for the sake of condensing the plot would make the story feel rushed or incomplete. Honestly, for a time I was scared thinking about what Project moon would do with it.

But then I remembered, Homer’s Odyssey is categorized as a Nostos - In Ancient Greek literature, it is a theme related to giving a high level of heroism for those who managed to return home, especially after dealing with myriads of mortal trials during their travels. And isn’t that exactly what Outis will accomplish once her Canto arrives?

With that in mind, I decided to reread both the Odyssey and all the cantos available until now in-game to see if maybe there was something I missed during my playthrough. You’ll never guess what I’ve found. 

What if I told you that we have been going through Outis Nostos since the very beginning? I believe I have some solid evidence that all cantos up until now are following a path similar to the one written on the Odyssey. This might seem crazy, even I was skeptical of this theory at first, but knowing Project Moon there’s probably a reason why we are getting the lineup we have in Limbus Company. 

So, with that said, hi! My name’s Thy, and welcome to my little insanity corner that I would like to call the Nostos theory. I hope you can read through everything without any problems, and if you have any new information that you would like to add to this, I’d be delighted to chat! 

[writing-with-sophia]

Common character archetypes in literature

Character archetypes are universal patterns of behavior, personality traits, and motivations that are commonly found in literature, mythology, and other forms of storytelling. They are often used as a shorthand to help readers quickly understand and relate to a character's role and purpose in the story.

Here are some common character archetypes:

The Hero: The hero is a brave and noble character who goes on a quest or journey to achieve a goal or overcome a challenge. Examples of heroes include Odysseus in Homer's "The Odyssey" and Frodo in J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings."

The Villain: The villain is an evil character who opposes the hero and tries to prevent them from achieving their goal. Examples of villains include Darth Vader in "Star Wars" and Iago in Shakespeare's "Othello."

The Mentor: The mentor is a knowledgeable and seasoned figure who directs and encourages the protagonist throughout their adventure. Examples of mentors include Gandalf in "The Lord of the Rings" and Obi-Wan Kenobi in "Star Wars."

The Trickster: The trickster is a mischievous character who uses their wit and cunning to achieve their goals. Examples of tricksters include Loki in Norse mythology and Hermes in Greek mythology.

The Damsel in Distress: The damsel in distress is a female character who requires saving from a hero. Examples of damsels in distress include Princess Peach in the Mario video game series and Sleeping Beauty in the fairy tale of the same name.

The Wise Old Man/ Woman: The wise old man or woman is commonly portrayed as having immense wisdom and expertise, and often acts as a mentor or guide to the protagonist. Examples of wise old men and women include Dumbledore in the Harry Potter series and the Oracle in Greek mythology. Such archetypes have been frequently employed in literature over time to communicate universal themes and concepts about human existence.

The Innocent: The innocent is a pure and uncorrupted character who often serves as a symbol of hope and goodness. Examples of innocents include Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz" and Boo Radley in "To Kill a Mockingbird."

The Outcast: The outcast is a character who is rejected by society and often feels a sense of alienation or isolation. Examples of outcasts include Frankenstein's monster in Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" and Hester Prynne in Nathaniel Hawthorne's "The Scarlet Letter."

The Temptress: The temptress is a seductive female character who lures men into danger or temptation. Examples of temptresses include Circe in Greek mythology and the character of Delilah in the Bible.

The Scapegoat: The scapegoat is a character who is blamed for the problems or issues of others. Examples of scapegoats include Tom Robinson in "To Kill a Mockingbird" and Piggy in "Lord of the Flies."

The Rebel: The rebel is a character who challenges authority and often advocates for change. Examples of rebels include Winston Smith in George Orwell's "1984" and Holden Caulfield in J.D. Salinger's "The Catcher in the Rye."

The Everyman: The everyman is a relatable character who represents the average person and often serves as the protagonist in a story. Examples of everymen include Bilbo Baggins in "The Hobbit" and Winston Smith in "1984."

The Wise Fool: The wise fool is often portrayed as someone who appears to be simple-minded, foolish, or even insane, but who possesses insights and wisdom that are not immediately apparent to others. Examples of the wise fools include the protagonist in "Diary of a Madman" and Yorick in "Tristram Shandy".

The preceding list outlines the typical character archetypes found in literature. Can you determine which archetype best fits your characters?

If you want to read more about The Wise Fool archetype, click here: The Wise Fool - Who is that?

[sunlightmurdock]

The Odyssey | 0.6 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

In Verona, you’re an outcast. Bradley’s determined to make up for the day before.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance, professor / student relationship, age gap ( 22 / 33), will be smut, virgin reader, swearing, infidelity, them actually getting along for once?, kissing, bradley has a corruption kink and doesn’t know it. wc: 7.35k

…

“I don’t know why you’re bringing this up now.” His voice grew agitated on the other end of the line. Understandably, he expected a delightful update on your sunny summer in Italy and was blindsided by you bringing up a fight from last year. “It’s been months. We’ve moved on.”

The phone pinned between your cheek and your shoulder, you fidgetted nervously with the band around your finger, inspecting the expensive diamond that sits on top of it. Hearing the annoyance in his voice, you should have stopped there, and told him that it didn’t matter. You hadn’t.

“I know, I know we have,” Your voice trembled. Your fiancé sighed hard on the other end of the line. “But the last thing I remember is being at that party with you. If I hurt you, Malcolm—“

“I asked you to marry me.” He blurted out, abrupt and biting. There was no point lying to you. There never had been, you would never let something like this go. He was upset. You could tell. You had continued anyway.

Your brows knitted together. “No… you proposed to me at my parents’ house. O-On Christmas Eve.”

“I did,” Malcolm breathed out through gritted teeth. Thinking of how you had humiliated him that night isn’t a fond memory. “But I asked you to marry me that night, at that party, without a ring. I told you that you’re the love of my life and I asked you to spend the rest of your life with me.”

You had closed your eyes, trying to force yourself to think. You still don’t know how anyone is supposed to reply to that.

“And you cried your eyes out, then left me standing there like an idiot.”

This morning, you’re sitting silently in a library with a notebook in front of you, trying to fathom how you could have done that to him. You wonder if he told anyone but you about that. You had spoken with your mother about marriage not long before he had proposed on Christmas Eve — you had agreed to marry him enthusiastically that day.

How is it that less than a month before, he could have asked you the same question, and your instinct was to run? — Not only to run, but to kiss another man. To spite Malcolm maybe. To act out. Whatever it was, you can’t pretend that it isn’t a relief to know that Bradley wasn’t the reason.

You hadn’t kissed him because he mattered, just because you were drunk and scared.

He’s standing at the end of the table now. Is long and wooden, not dissimilar to the one in the university library. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and faded blue jeans, speaking confidently in Italian to the restoration technician that you’re here to work with today.

This is one of the first pieces of actual research that the students have been allowed to engage in so far on this trip. You’re not thrilled about it. Trying to piece together some old man’s memoirs so that Bradley can write about it.

Bradley’s in a world of his own anyway, deep in conversation about what’s in front of him. Since he got here this morning, all that he has done in terms of being a teacher was to list eight roles and tell you to decide amongst each other who would be doing what.

Deemed the least intelligent by all of your peers simultaneously, you’re just the scribe. Taking notes on observations that they have, that Bradley could one day use when he writes about this. It’s bullshit, and it doesn’t seem fair, but you won’t argue with them on it. They already dislike you enough.

And you’re still reeling from last night. No wonder Malcolm wouldn’t speak to you for three days. No wonder he hadn’t followed you out into the snow. You’d just broken his heart.

The day of no work passes by exceptionally slowly. Your only reprieve is Pasquale, telling you stories about his mother’s farm. It’s not something that you would care much about if you were back home, but here, it’ll do.

“So, what do you think of Verona?” Pasquale asks as he flicks through an anthology. His role is more important than yours and he isn’t even here for a grade.

You shoot a look towards the end of the table and watch Bradley pull a loose pair of glasses from his pocket, setting them on the bridge of his nose and leaning closer to examine a text. He doesn’t even have a case for his glasses.

“I, uh — haven’t seen too much of it yet. I stayed in last night, and I’ve been here all day today.” You explain to him, tapping the end of your pen absently against the page.

Bradley takes the page carefully from the technician and frowns as he brings it closer to his face. When he’s serious, faint creases appear between his brows, his lips point down. His eyes narrow slightly.

“You really should. It’s the city of love, you know. You could find your husband a souvenir, maybe. When we have time off tomorrow.” Pasquale tells you with a big grin. You offer him a weak grin in return. You’re lucky to even have someone that wants to be your husband after what you did. Either way, Pasquale seems to like you.

He’s about the only person here that does.

That’s only confirmed later when Bradley steps out of the bathroom in a towel and finds Luke buttoning a salmon coloured Ralph Lauren button up.

“Going out?” Bradley questions, walking over to the desk for his cigarettes before he thinks about his clothes.

“Uh-huh. We’re all going for dinner in the city.” Luke confirms as Bradley scrunches his nose at the obnoxious cologne smell coming from that side of the room.

“All of you?” Bradley checks as he puts the cigarette between his lips and lights it. Luke scoffs, angling himself towards the awkwardly short mirror on their vanity. He rolls one sleeve up to his elbow and squints.

“I’m not inviting her. They’ll kill me.” He shakes his head, glancing over at Bradley and trying to remember how Bradley wears his button ups. Sleeves rolled, definitely.

“She wouldn’t be as bad if she had friends to keep her occupied.” Bradley notes, stepping into a pair of blue boxers and draping the damp towel over his shoulder, exhaling through the corner of his mouth.

“And I wish her the best of luck in finding some. It’s not gonna be me. Anyway, I have to go. See you later!” Luke pats Bradley’s bare shoulder and steps around him, heading for the door before they can discuss this further. It swings shut behind him.

Bradley sighs, leaning his head back towards the ceiling, the lit cigarette dangling between his index and middle fingers.

As much as he would like to avoid you after you’d thrown him off of you last night, the thought of you eating alone in your room just doesn’t sit right with him. Or, even worse, you venturing out by yourself.

The thought of last night makes him want to drive to the nearest beach, dig a reasonably sized hole, and bury his head in the sand. He’s never felt dirtier. The thought that he went further than you wanted him to.

The fact that you’re his student. He doesn’t do that. He isn’t one of the creeps that drools over the girls on campus. Christ, you’re the first girl he’s ever kissed that’s more than a year younger than him. He just needs to put it behind him.

So, he pulls on a pair of faded, light blue Levi’s 501s and a white button up that’s tolerably ironed, then heads up a flight of stairs and down the hall.

You flinch at the knocking on your door.

Bradley blinks as you tug it open moments later. Then, looks you slowly up and down. You’re wearing a cute button up pyjama set. He furrows his brows at you.

“It’s 6pm.” He points out disapprovingly. He really can’t help it. He could have told you that he actually thinks the little hearts on them are kind of cute.

“So? I don’t have anywhere to be.” You answer back, frowning up at him as always.

“Yeah. About that, uh — me either,” He’s trying not to be patronizing about this. He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s taking pity on you. This isn’t necessarily pity. You also just started trying in his class and it would be a shame if you quit now. “Do you want to get dinner?”

“With you?” You gawk.

He shrugs. This is more awkward than he hoped it would be, but he can’t blame you after the way things went yesterday. “Yeah. Unless you know anyone else who’d like to join us.”

“I’ll get ready.” You decide quietly. He gives you a small nod and starts to step back.

“Alright. I’ll meet you in the lobby in… twenty?”

It’s a good thing that he gets down there early, because so do you. You’re more dressed up than he was expecting, but then, so is he. His shirt doesn’t even have any wrinkles in it today.

Bradley looks you slowly up and down as you walk towards him. He doesn’t know what to call the style of dress you’re wearing. Thin straps that tie at the shoulders, a sweetheart neckline and a lightweight georgette fabric. You’re wearing a pretty necklace that compliments the neckline, elegantly small hoop earrings with pearl drops. Those are probably real pearls.

You’ve dressed the outfit down slightly with summery loafers instead of heels. All that does is make Bradley have to tip his chin down to look you in the eye when you’re up close.

“So. Do you know a place?” You exhale, hugging your purse closer to your body. It matches your shoes.

Bradley shakes his head dumbly.

“No,” He answers quietly. Then, he realizes he’s being ridiculous. He’s been on plenty of dates, there’s no reason to be nervous. Except this isn’t a date. Because you’re getting married. And you’re his student. He clears his throat like that will help clear the momentary fog in his brain. “No. But there are a tonne of places around here. We’ll find somewhere.”

The two of you step out into the still warm evening, the sun still pretty high overhead. It’s quiet out, quieter than when you had first arrived. It makes you feel exceptionally alone next to Bradley.

As the two of you walk in a painstakingly heavy silence, you consider briefly if you should apologize for calling him an animal yesterday. After all, you were the one to kiss him. But his hands are big, and they’re heavy, and you could feel them starting to trail along your skin.

You swallow at the thought, shooting a quick glance at the back of his head. His shoulders look wide, and strong, when he’s not wearing a shirt that’s a size too big. Not only could you feel his hands starting to roam, but his tongue too. That, you remember well.

It hadn’t been forceful, or even really too intrusive. Just like he would push his tongue out to wet his lips, he had pressed close to you and gently trailed his tongue along the seam of your lips. That hadn’t ever happened before. Malcolm doesn’t kiss like that. Really, he’s your only point of reference.

So, when Bradley’s tongue had flicked knowingly against your bottom lip, maybe you had parted them. Just a little bit. But then his tongue was in your mouth, trailing against your own and — nice girls don’t kiss like that. Not any nice girl that you’ve ever known anyway.

“How’s this place look?”

You’ve been following him blindly and daydreaming about his tongue long enough now that he has led you down a side street. Peach coloured stone buildings on either side, lanterns on the walls that aren’t lit yet and a string of mostly empty restaurants.

Bradley’s standing by one covered in plants. The awning is practically entirely green with foliage. The railings outside are the same, flowers tucked into small vases on each table. You’re surprised, honestly, that he picked it. It’s pretty.

You turn your head and he’s looking right at you. The first thing to cross your mind is his hands flexing around your waist, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips.

“This is fine.”

He doesn’t untuck your chair for you, but you wouldn’t have expected him too. This is the same man that would have happily had sex with a married woman on a balcony on a work trip. God, and you let him kiss you.

Bradley catches you grimacing at your menu. “What? — Not a fan of Italian food?”

You look quickly back up at him. There’s a caught look on your face that he can’t quite place. Like you’re waiting for him to tell you that you’re in trouble. “Huh? — No. I like Italian food. What are you getting?”

Bradley looks between you and the menu, wondering if he’ll ever get to a point where he understands you.

“Uh…” He has no idea. He hasn’t even read the menu, he’s just been looking at it so that he doesn’t have to look at you. He exhales. “Do you drink wine?”

Whether the wine helps is debatable. In terms of loosening the two of you up to the point that you can actually have a conversation without burning with embarrassment, it’s a great success. In terms of professionalism and keeping up with boundaries, it is not.

You’ve both eaten, you’ve finished an entire bottle of Malbec and you’re a glass and a have into the second bottle — and Bradley’s a lot funnier tonight than he is normally. There’s a connection between those two things, you’re sure.

Even if it’s just that he’s feeling relaxed enough to actually tell you something interesting about himself for once.

“I was taking a still life art class in Tuscany,” He brings the glass to his mouth and takes a drink of the sweet, red liquid. Relaxed back into the chair, it’s like you’re watching a movie star give an interview when he smiles at you. “Staying with a family outside of Siena. They had a daughter, Maria. She was about a year and a half older than I was, and um…”

He trails, biting his cheek as he sets the glass down on the white table cloth again. The candle flickers in its glass jar between you. With one leg crossed over the other, you’re watching him with your own glass sitting in your hand and a smile on your face. The pale blue of your dress makes your skin glow, your hair is tucked back on one side with a pearl barrette. Verona looks good on you.

Bradley chuckles and pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, she — she taught me a lot.”

There’s a brief moment of sense where he sits back and pushes fingers through his curls, shaking his head. Where you can see it in his face that he’s telling himself that this isn’t right. You’re his student.. He exhales amusedly, “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

He shouldn’t have had his tongue in your mouth yesterday.

“You can’t leave it on that cliffhanger! Come on, I won’t tell.” You grin across the table at him and he bites his lip, visibly grimacing at the memory.

You laugh at him, watching his cheeks turn red on the other side of the table. Breeze catches your hair and brushes it back off of your shoulders. Bradley feels himself grimacing as he thinks back to that time. He can’t believe he’s sharing this with you.

“Y’know, I was in the middle of the Italian countryside but this girl was… she was experienced enough long before I met her. But her father was the town’s butcher, and he had some livestock of his own, and one day Maria and I were… fooling around in the granary…”

“Oh my god, Bradley, no.” Your eyes go wide and you sit upright, breaking into a fit of laughter again. Red faced and reliving every moment of the embarrassment he had felt on that August day eleven years ago, he can’t help but laugh with you as he covers his face with his hands.

“He came after me with a meat cleaver, screaming about how I’d, uh, deflowered his little angioletto.” Bradley admits finally from behind his hands. Even with his face covered, that red blush is already spreading down his neck and onto his chest. You watch it go between the open buttons at the top of his white button up.

The sound of your laughter in front of him is the only thing that makes him pull his hands away from his face. He’s got to see the smile that goes with it. Blinking, he’s quiet for a moment. Candlelight from the lanterns overhead and from the table bathe you in a warm light. The centuries old buildings behind you. The smile on your face. He smiles back at you.

“You know what I find hardest to believe about that story?” You ask him, smiling as you lean forwards and set the wine glass down, propping your chin against your palm.

“What’s that?”

“That you were taking an art class for an entire summer.” It just seems so out of character. He’s all about facts and analysis, using sources to come to a conclusion. Sure, his focus is literature, but so far he hasn’t seemed especially creative.

Bradley chuckles, giving a quick shrug of his broad shoulders. “I can draw. I learned some interesting stuff, got kind of good. Painting… not so much. I failed that class.”

The admission makes your jaw go slack, eyes widening in excitement. He just sits back, lips quirked in amusement as you hit the table and point across at him.

“You hypocrite! Putting love before your studies!” You accuse, grinning at him. He laughs, really laughs, leaning his head back and shaking it at you. Your mind starts to wander in the absence of his eyes on you. Him, at your age. Here in this place, taking an art class.

Maybe the two of you would have liked each other. Maybe in another universe, you would be the kind of girl to be kissing him hard in a granary on a summer day.

“I wouldn’t call what Maria and I had love.” He’s still smiling as he makes the decision. If there was ever much of a decision to make in the first place. Bradley knows what being in love feels like, both in written fact and in personal terms. Head over heels, heart-thudding devotion.

“Sex. Putting sex before your studies.” You correct yourself, still grinning as you take a sip of the wine. Bradley watches your tongue leave your mouth to catch a droplet of the aged red intoxicant from your bottom lip. He studies you from the short distance between you. Sun kissed and with the kind of smile on your face that threatens to have you spilling over into laughter again any minute now.

There’s a small silence between the two of you. The bustle of Verona at night just a few streets away. The two of you, tucked away here. It feels private. Even with the wait staff, the few other guests, Bradley hasn’t looked at anything but you in a while now.

“I just don’t get it,” Bradley says softly, staring across at you like he’s searching for his answer on your face. On a good track to finishing this second bottle of wine, you take another drink from your glass and simply raise your eyebrows at him. “Why you’re waiting until you marry this guy.”

The wine sits on your tongue, still, as you blink at him. Shit. Bradley lifts his palm in defense. This is nice, the last thing he wants is to argue with you.

“It’s none of my business, I know — and it’s your decision. I just don’t get it.”

He watches you swallow the wine in your mouth and look down at your knees, silent for a moment. While you’re thinking, Bradley’s thinking too, of a million ways to apologize and change the topic as quickly as possible.

“There are two reasons.” You tell him quietly, sounding uncertain in yourself already. Bradley’s watching you intently when you look up. “But if you tell anyone then I’ll call you a liar to your face and make this entire trip hell for you. Understood?”

His lips twitch, almost smiling. “Understood.”

“The first reason is that it’s what’s expected of me. I’m a nice girl, from a nice family and nice girls don’t have bad reputations.”

“Having sex with your long-term boyfriend would give you a bad reputation?” Bradley questions, brows drawing together. It’s times like these that you believe he grew up in California. He doesn’t understand the social lives of these North-Eastern socialite mothers.

“Yes.” You deadpan, sitting up a little bit straighter. “And the second reason is that we tried, once. And never again since.”

“Tried.” Bradley repeats to you, squinting his eyes slightly. He mulls over the word, then wets his lips with his tongue. He’s preparing to speak again.

You beat him to it, giving a calm shrug. “We were eighteen. I wasn’t the problem. That’s all I’ll say.”

His lips quirk upwards into a small smile. Your hot shit boyfriend couldn’t keep it up. Bradley’s smart enough not to say anything else on the matter, and instead asks you how you’re liking the book that Pasquale gave you. The two of you finish the bottle of wine in polite conversation.

Bradley calls the waiter over and asks for the bill. It sounds like he’s polite about it. Once it has been set down between the two of you, you’re both quick to reach for your wallets.

“I’ve got it.” Bradley waves you off, opening up a brown leather wallet. You look at him through your lashes, squinting dubiously.

“Since when are you a gentleman?” You play, lips quirked. A week ago, this would have started an argument. Maybe you’re growing on him. He just smiles and shoots you a quick wink, dropping the notes onto the bill.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He jokes back, starting to close his wallet on the other side of the table.

“What’s that picture in your wallet?” Your eyes linger on the black and white photo booth picture in his phone. Bradley’s gaze shoots between the picture and you. He pulls it from the sleeve and passes it across the table to you.

Briefly, your eyes widen. The man in the picture looks so much like Bradley that you think the woman in the picture must be an ex. And then you look across to the woman, and somehow he looks even more like her than he does the man.

He watches your lips quirk softly into a smile as you inspect the grainy picture. No explanation needed, you know exactly who they are.

“You look like your mom.” You tell him gently. Her blonde hair is settled into short curls in the picture, the man at her side is practically beaming. He looks happy in a way you’ve never seen Bradley match, maybe that’s it.

“Really? — Most people say I look like my dad.” He comments, resting his forearms on the table to lean over and examine the photo for himself. You smile at him, lifting the picture up and holding it next to his face.

There’s a brief quiet between the two of you. Bradley’s still, trying to keep his face neutral as you study the differences. His lips twitch. The serious look on your face just makes him smile. Once he’s smiling, your decision is made.

“You do,” You nod, glancing between him and the picture. “You’ve got your mom’s lips. And her eyes, I think. She’s really pretty.”

You look up, picture still between your index and thumb. He’s pretty. Tanned from days strolling around northern Italy, the golden colour to his skin just makes his freckles more pronounced. It makes his eyes less dark, more of a golden honey colour. Everything, just a little bit warmer.

Bradley’s silent for a moment, watching you watch him. You can see the idea cross his mind. He smiles and reaches out for his picture back, pushing up from the table as he sets it into the wallet.

“You want to see something cool?” He pushes the wallet back into the pocket of his faded blue jeans and the look in his eye tells you that this night is far from over.

Your instinct should probably be to reconcile with your fiancé. To apologize, maybe. But, Malcolm told you to come back with stories to tell, and hiding in your hotel room isn’t much of a story.

The smile on your face is answer enough, Bradley nudges his elbow into yours and rests his hand against the small of your back to guide you in the right direction.

“It’s not that far, I promise. Across the bridge and up some steps.” Bradley tells you, dropping his hand from your back once you’re walking at his side.

He’s right. It’s really not that long of a walk at all. Not with him being your tour guide every step of the way. He walks you across the Ponte Pietra, which is a stone bridge built in 100 BC, making it the oldest bridge in Verona.

From there, it’s a short walk through some more paved streets and up some steps to the Castel San Pietro. Of course, not without first hearing a brief recount of its history. Bradley doesn’t really know much about this spot, much more than he has picked up as a visitor in past visits anyway.

Still, he’s a firm believer in leaving a girl impressed on the first date. He’s able to answer every single one of your questions with ease. As he had hoped, you sit at his side on a stone wall, facing the city, impressed.

It’s after a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you that you ask him a question of your own.

“Do you believe in fate?” Your cheek presses into the muscle of his shoulder, staring out over the lights of the city. Bradley exhales an amused noise from beside you. Like the notion itself is something to laugh at.

“No. Do you?”

“I haven’t made my mind up yet,” You tell him, kicking your feet just slightly. There’s more of a breeze up here, a slight chill now that the sun is down. “Plenty of intelligent people believe in fate.”

He nods at your side. “Of course.”

“Shakespeare did. Romeo and Juliet’s all about fate.”

He makes a sound, but doesn’t shake his head. “It’s about human will and making the wrong choice.”

Bradley has a way of replying when it comes to discussions like this that makes it sound like he’s correcting you when he’s just stating his opinion. You fight the urge to roll your eyes and instead lift your head to look at him.

“Okay, so the prologue of the play tells the audience exactly what’s going to happen. It doesn’t just foreshadow, it explicitly tells us that the two families hate each other and that the lovers will die. Right?”

“Right.” He confirms to you with a brief nod.

“‘Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife’. The feud would never have ended if they weren’t to fall in love and die. The entire structure of the play is this tragic fate that neither one can escape from.”

Bradley’s eyes flicker over your face. He turns his head towards the city and smiles. “I know. I wanted you to explain it and I feel like I can’t get a straight answer from you unless I piss you off sometimes.”

Your mouth gapes. Bradley flinches as you jab a finger into his ribs and laugh at his side, making him turn back towards you grinning. He chuckles along, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe you just quoted Shakespeare at me. I’ve been busting my balls trying to get you a C in my class and you’ve got passages from Shakespeare memorized.” He muses. When he turns his attention back to the city this time, he leans back on his palms to observe it. Your cheek presses softly into his shoulder once more.

He feels you squeeze closer to him for warmth.

“My grades weren’t ever bad. I still got into an Ivy League. I’m not dumb.” It’s playful in the way that you say it, but you’re not joking.

“No, you’re not dumb.” Bradley agrees. You’re just wasting your potential on being nothing but that kid’s wife. He keeps his mouth shut. Even though the two bottles of wine are telling him that you need to hear it, he’s got enough sense not to.

Bradley lifts his palm and drapes his arm around your shoulder. You shift closer, pressing into the warmth of his torso. Silently, the two of you look out over the city.

You set the curve in your English literature classes once upon a time. Back when you were still trying. Your work was showcased at school fundraisers. It’s easy to convince yourself that you have wholeheartedly believed in every decision you have made so far. That at this age, you have no regrets.

If that were true, you would have been happy the first time that Malcolm had proposed. You wouldn’t have kissed Bradley. You wouldn’t have done it again yesterday.

This doesn’t feel like the right decision either. It can’t be, when it would cost you everything back home.

A light turning on in a bedroom across the river catches your eye. From here, you can’t see much other than her silhouette. A woman, changing alone in her room.

Turning your attention instead towards the sky, you think about the fate Shakespeare wrote about. Ill-fated love that ultimately leads to death, but is inevitable.

Malcolm wouldn’t lead you to your death. Life with him would be safe and comfortable. Close to home with a pleasant income — in-laws that get along with your parents just fine. And yet, that fate does nothing but make your heartbeat thud in your ears.

“You know that Shakespeare wasn’t the first to write about the Montagues and the Capulets?” Bradley interrupts the silence and almost makes you jump out of your skin. Your fiddle with your cuticles, staring down at your knees.

“Really?”

“Dante.” Bradley answers quietly. “This poem he wrote in the fourteenth century that he wrote, the Divine Comedy, he wrote about two warring Italian families. The Montagues and the Capulets.”

His thumb strokes softly at your shoulder as he nods his head. “Like two hundred and fifty years before Shakespeare did.”

“So?”

“So?” Bradley scoffs, pulling his arm back from your shoulder and squeezing playfully at the nape of your neck. You turn and find him looking at you. Your lips twitch. “So, I’m sharing a fun fact with you. So. You’ve got an attitude, you know that?”

The sun is down now and the thin tie straps, the soft georgette fabric, neither does much to ward the chill of the evening air from up where you’re sitting. Even pressed into Bradley’s side, the cold grazes you suddenly and makes you shiver.

“Come on. Let’s go.” He squeezes your nape playfully once more and gestures his head back the way you had come. Standing up, he almost drapes his arm around your shoulder again out of instinct. He pushes his hands into the pockets of his faded Levi’s.

Neither one of you really says anything, but the walk is far from quiet. It’s like he can hear you thinking. The soles of your cream coloured loafers are quiet along the paved streets, you trail just slightly behind him. He knows you’re just taking in the scenery, but it’s not in his nature to let someone walk alone in a foreign city after dark. He finds himself slowing to the point that he’s dawdling by your side.

“You know we have three more days here, right?” He tells you.

“I know, it’s just pretty,” You answer back, not bothering to turn your gaze back towards him. He watches you taking everything in. “Why, you have somewhere to be?”

“No, but you’re cold.” Bradley points out.

You just roll your eyes and stop walking to correct him. He bumps his shoulder into yours and grabs either side of your waist with both hands, guiding you abruptly forwards.

“Don’t argue. You’re shivering.” He leans forward to tell you softly. Biting your cheek, you push your elbow back into his stomach. He scoffs and nudges you forwards again. His hands are still on your waist when he’s guiding you through the hotel lobby and up the stairs.

Your floor is one up from his, but neither one of you says a word when he skips his all together and keeps walking. Bradley wouldn’t dare call this a date, but he has never let a woman walk home alone after a first date. He walks you to your door wordlessly.

As he opens his mouth to thank you, and tell you goodnight, he watches you pluck the silver key from your bag and push it into the lock. The latch clicks compliantly and you walk inside, leaving it open behind you. Bradley glances down at the threshold, and back at you.

“Here,” You breathe out, crossing to the small dressing table in the corner and picking up the sheets of lined paper there. Bradley rests his forearm against the doorframe, apparently taking the vampire approach after his overstep yesterday. “I finished the practice exam.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He blinks. The expectation is that you’ll turn and bring the paper over to him any second now. Instead, you turn your head and look at him over your shoulder.

“Are you going to come look?”

Fuck. Bradley nods. He swallows and dips his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans as he walks inside, a silent reminder to keep his hands to himself. You had told him no yesterday, and one mistake is more than enough. He’s old enough to know better.

His shoulder brushes yours as he leans around you to get a look at the paper. Reaching out, he rests his thumb beside the line that the first question begins. Glancing back, you watch his eyes scan the paper for a few moments.

“The first three are right.” Bradley notes. All that he can focus on is your perfume. The sweet notes, the expensive, layered undertones. You turn towards him, sitting down on the edge of the vanity. He swallows.

“When you failed that art class, did you know you were going to fail it?” You ask him. It’s eating you up, the thought that this might all be for nothing. You don’t know what you’ll do if you fail again. This time, it’ll hurt that much more. It’s one thing to fail because you hadn’t even attended. To fail after you have actually tried, that’s another thing entirely.

“Yeah.” Bradley breathes out, offering you a smile. He nods his head just to provide additional confirmation. “I couldn’t even paint a sunflower. I knew.”

For once, he doesn’t take a shot at the effort you’ve put into this class. You’re trying. He sees that.

“But you could draw.” You recite back to him.

“Yeah.” Bradley smiles. The top three buttons on his shirt are undone, you can see that he’s still wearing that gold necklace. His father’s necklace, his dad is wearing it in that photo. His cheeks are terracotta red, warm.

“Could you draw me?” Maybe it’s not the best effort at flirting, but you don’t have much experience with that. Your first kiss was with the man that you intend to marry. You shouldn’t flirt with him. Most days you’d rather hit him than kiss him.

But, your bed is right behind him and yesterday he had you pressed into that mattress by a fraction of his weight, and his hands on your waist, in your hair. You inhale softly, met with the increasingly familiar scent of his cologne.

Bradley doesn’t touch you, but he might as well have. His hand curls around the vanity beside your knee. He leans in just a little closer and gives a small shake of his head, smiling like something’s funny. “Sorry, honey, my specialty was human form. Posing nude.”

He’s just trying to get under your skin, see how old-fashioned you really are. Maybe you’re growing used to that by now, it doesn’t take you a second to come up with a comeback.

“Did Maria teach you that?”

Bradley’s eyes don’t move, staring right at you with that smirk on his face still. He chuckles softly, then taps your knee softly. “Alright. I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you—“

“Wait,” You close your eyes and ransack your brain looking for what comes next. You know he’s still standing there, you can’t hear him moving. “What, um, what did she teach you?”

Bradley’s not stupid. Nor is he oblivious to the fact that for one reason or another, women seem to like him. He’s used to being flirted with. And he knows exactly what you’re asking of him. He’s smart enough not to tell you that the things he did with Maria would have you clutching your pearls.

Still, he’s not going to tell you no. Not when you’re looking at him like that.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he looks downwards at your knees politely pressed together. Bradley reaches out tentatively, glancing up at your face as he curls his fingers into the hollow of your knee. Your eyes are just on his face, compliant as he tugs your leg just slightly to the side to make room for him to step closer.

Between your knees now, Bradley’s hand abandons your leg. He brings both up to cup your jaw, angling your head so that you’re looking up at him. He exhales softly. You close your eyes in anticipation. He doesn’t keep you waiting long.

He leans in close and kisses you softly, tenderly. Nothing like yesterday. It’s slow, just his lips on yours. Once more, another. Then, he pulls back and gently strokes his thumbs across each of your cheeks.

He swallows softly, opening his eyes. His intention is to search your face for doubt, annoyance — whatever had caused your freak out yesterday. His mouth twitches. Your eyes remain closed, lips pursed ever so slightly, waiting for him to kiss you again.

You lift your hands cautiously from your sides, resting them against his stomach over the cotton of his button up. Bradley kisses you again, just as soft. Building into it with gradually modern generous pecks. His hands keep your face exactly where he wants it as yours ball loosely into the fabric of his shirt.

This time when he pulls back, you chase after him, a small sound slipping your lips. Bradley bites his cheek, tenderly tracing over your jaw, reminding himself to be polite.

“You really want me to show you more?” He murmurs, lips grazing your cheek. Your daren’t open your eyes, fearing that it will give away your entire being. If you look at him, he’ll be able to tell how much your heart is pounding in your chest.

He’s already got a good idea, given the fact that you still haven’t uncurled your hands from his shirt.

“Mhm.” You manage, quiet.

He leans forwards once more and kisses you again, soft, slow. You lean into him, fighting a frown as he pulls away all too soon.

“Open your mouth, just a little, sit still.” With your eyes closed, all you’ve got is his voice. You’re okay with that. It still makes you shiver. You obey, parting your lips just a fraction.

Bradley’s eyes fall down to your lips. He blinks, studying the plush skin. But again, he doesn’t keep you waiting long. He presses closer, as close as he can get to the vanity, and tilts his head just slightly. He kisses your bottom lip, trailing it with his tongue this time.

Your thighs bracket his as you try to press them together. The next kiss he comes in for, it’s the same thing. His tongue doesn’t dare venture into your mouth, or brush yours. He’s just teasing you.

His hands are still cupping your jaw, keeping you exactly where he wants you. Then, finally, he kisses you again, deeper this time. His tongue dips just a bit further, slowly, gradually.

You’re taking the sit still instruction a little bit too literally.

“Copy what I’m doing. Just slowly, like that.” He mumbles against your mouth, his lips on yours again the second that he’s done speaking. Slowly, gradually, and his tongue touches yours once more.

It strokes along the tip of yours and curls just slightly. Nothing to complex to keep up with. One of his hands slides from your jaw to the nape of your neck, sliding his fingers into your roots.

Your tongue lets his do most of the work. He’s surprised when you’re brave enough to actually copy him and curl the tip of your tongue into his. All too soon, he pulls back and goes right back to the pecking. More urgent this time, still he finds time to be tender. Soft, with you.

And yet, you pull away from him with a soft frown.

“What? — What’s the matter?” Bradley’s face creases with concern, his thumb swiping softly over your jaw as he looks for the answer on your face.

“You stopped. Was I doing it wrong?” You ask meekly.

He almost smiles, but decides against it. A sincere shake of his head works instead. He leans in and kisses you once. “No. No, you weren’t doing it wrong. I just… like to go between tongue and no tongue, I guess.”

Bradley sounds uncertain. He hasn’t ever had to explain himself like this before. This is clearly a foreign process to the both of you.

“Okay.” You breathe out. As long as you’ve got the hang of it, you like the sound of that too. You sit upright, stretching up to kiss him again. Bradley leans down. You are rendered silent once more as he kisses your forehead.

“I should go.” Before this goes any further. Before you ask me for more, because I’m really not sure I could say no. Bradley blinks as you look up at him. He almost leans in one last time.

“Yeah,” You breathe out, barely a whisper. He’s more than close enough to hear you perfectly. Your heartbeat thuds in your chest. “Okay.”

He swallows. “I… I had a really nice time with you tonight. Thank you.”

You’re acutely aware that he still has one of those giant paws of his on the back of your neck. That he’s still standing between your knees. That he’s close enough to kiss if you reached for him.

“So did I.” You answer.

Bradley trails his thumb down until he reaches the top of your spine. He finally lets go, dropping his hand back down to his side.

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Right.” You agree, curling your fingers around the edge of the vanity as he takes a step away from you. Bradley offers you a small smile, and takes another big step.

And you leave it at that. He leaves, closing the door to your hotel room behind him, wandering back down to his own room. He should probably feel guilty.

Any guilt that he should feel hasn’t hit him yet. It won’t. If it doesn’t go any further than teaching you what french kissing is — then, what’s there to be guilty about?

…

Tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @thecitysgraveyard @sugarcoated-lame @kmc1989 @cherrycola27

[tylermileslockett]

Theseus #3 (Medea and the Poisoned Cup)

After undergoing the customary rites to be cleansed from bloodshed, Theseus arrives in Athens. With a high reputation of his heroic deeds he receives an invitation to the King’s banquet. But only the Queen Medea recognizes Theseus to be the son and heir. Afraid for the legitimacy of her son Medus, she schemes, convincing an elderly King Aegeus that this new guest comes with ill intent. But when Theseus holds aloft his sword to cut his meat, the King recognizes his son, and knocks the poisoned cup from his hand.   Medea, knowing her deception will not go unpunished, flees the banquet, and kingdom with her son.

Here is an opportune time to give a brief overview of the fascinating and complex Medea. Her grandfather was the sun god Helios, and her father was king Aeetes (son of Helios and Perseis, an Oceanid). Despite her divine parentage, Medea is most commonly portrayed as mortal with magical abilities. Medea was a devout follower of Hecate, goddess of magic and necromancy.

Her first introduction is as the princess of Colchis assisting Jason to acquire the golden fleece. The lovers flee Colchis, and with the king’s army in pursuit, Medea and Jason sacrifice her brother Absyrtus. They throw his dismembered body parts into the water, forcing the king to slow and collect his dead son, allowing the argonauts to escape. Many years later having settled in Corinth, the love between the two sours, shown in the play “Medea” by Euripides. When Jason abandons her to marry the princess Glauce, Medea creates a poisoned dress for the new bride which takes the brides life. Most shockingly of all, Medea murders her own two sons in a bloody act of revenge.

Although in Euripides’ play we can empathize with her as a betrayed and lonely outcast, in Theseus’ tale she is shown in a more villainous light, when she breaks the sacred social contract in ancient Greek culture of Xenia (hospitality and protection of the guest by a host). Zeus was the patron god of Xenia, and this cultural value is a major theme in Homer’s Odyssey.

Like this art? It will be in my illustrated book with over 130 other full page illustrations coming in Aug/Sept to kickstarter.  to get unseen free hi-hes art subscribe to my email newsletter

Follow my backerkit kickstarter notification page.

Thank you for supporting independent artists! 🤘❤️🏛😁

[desmon1995]

The Warriors and their Odyssey of misogyny

I can’t stop thinking about how The Warriors is more relevant now than ever, especially in the wake of the 2024 election. This isn’t just a story about gang conflicts and survival—it's a brutally honest reflection of the world that marginalized people have to navigate every day. At its core, it’s about fighting through a sea of misogyny and toxic masculinity to survive in a system that’s dead set on crushing those who don’t fit its narrative.

Let’s start with Luther. He’s a white incel in every sense—angry, destructive, and, above all, ready to deflect blame the moment he’s caught in his own violence. After killing a black female activist, he immediately accuses the Warriors. Cleon, a character who knows what it means to fight for your community, begs for reason, for justice. But it’s hopeless—Luther’s lie spreads through his gang the Rouges, and every gang believes him. They want to believe the white man’s narrative. This is how the Warriors become outcasts, hunted by everyone.

What’s chilling, though, is how The Warriors dives deep into the nuances of toxic masculinity, showing it in forms we recognize all too well.

First, we have the Turnbull ACs—the poster boys of hyper-masculine violence. They’re the first to pursue the Warriors, and they’re more than willing to turn their hunt into something brutal. The ACs don't just want revenge; they want to dominate, to assert their power over the Warriors in every violent way possible. All in the name of Cyrus, no less—a symbol of a leader they’ll never understand. And they’re acting this way because of a lie, blindly following a dangerous white man’s narrative without question. It’s the rawest depiction of machismo and rage—almost an anthem of how Men of Color end up perpetuating harmful Eurocentric viewpoints just be a part of a society that hates them too.

Then come the Orphans. The Orphans are all talk, acting like the typical online "alpha males" we see on Reddit or Twitter. They talk big about their strength and what they’d do to women, but they’re nothing but insecure. The moment a more feminine-presenting Warrior flirts with them, they back down, only to puff up again when Mercy questions their manhood. It’s pathetic, really, but also painfully real. As soon as the Warriors fight back, the Orphans crumble, showing us exactly how performative their masculinity truly is.

Then there’s the Hurricanes—the only group to stand with the Warriors. They’re queer, and they know what it’s like to be outcast, to run because society sees you as something to be destroyed. The Hurricanes offer a quiet, resilient kind of mentorship, showing the Warriors that they don’t have to run—that they can fight. The solidarity here is beautiful, and historically resonant. Queer rights and women’s rights are so deeply intertwined because they’ve both faced the brutal crush of patriarchy, especially from those determined to keep the world “pure” and “safe” for white, conservative ideals. The Hurricanes help the Warriors see their own power, and it’s their influence that eventually allows them to survive.

But the most frightening group? The Bizzies. They’re the “nice guys,” the false allies who sing about being there to help. In their song “We Got You,” they say everything marginalized people want to hear. They’re supportive, kind, and reassuring—until they get you in a dark place, where your screams can’t be heard. Cowgirl lets her guard down with them, only to find out that their support was a façade. The Bizzies are insidious because this happens all the time in real life. Fake allies talk about helping marginalized people but vanish or even turn hostile the moment things get difficult. In 2024, we’re reminded every day that this kind of allyship is hollow.

A recent Vulture review questioned why most of the male characters in The Warriors are “bad” and argued that this one-sided view “limits” the story. But here’s the thing: this isn’t one-sided for those of us who are marginalized. For women, queer folks, and people of color, this is our reality. The Warriors reveals what’s true for many of us: that we have to rely on each other, and that the fight for our own freedom is in our hands because no one else will fight it for us without diluting or dismissing it.

In a way, The Warriors is the sequel to Hamilton we need in 2024. It’s a call to action, a piece that understands what it means to exist on the fringes of a world that was never designed for you. For those who think this story isn’t “realistic,” I urge you to think about what it means to live without the privilege of being heard, of being believed. This is the life marginalized communities face every day—the struggle of knowing that no matter how loud we shout, society might never listen.

We’re the ones who have to make our voices heard. And The Warriors reminds us that we’re not alone in this fight.

[bambiilooza]

any headcanons for perimedes, esp his family and his life before the war? (i hope things get better for you soon!)

alr here's a summary of the full biography of this man i made up. i wish i was good at writing but no, so this just lives in my head.

growing up, i think he's the youngest in an all boys family and he was an outcast of sorts. he purposefully isolated himself from his brothers and other kids and was picked on for it. i have him as shorter and less built that most of the male characters and i think he was treated like the runt of the litter. this made him very scrappy and untrusting but also sharp and quick on his feet.

i don't think he had particularly close relationship with his parents cuz he wasn't a talkative or confident kid and was seen as a mopey and cowardly. he started putting on a confidence façade as he got older though.

he gets some sort of work in blacksmithing (not the main guy or anything. he helps) when he's older. he develops this sword obsession. classic queer idiot and his sword obsession. he'd make acquaintances when working and crack jokes and all that but he's not opening up to anyone. and he thinks he's fine with that. he'd train for the army when he was in he's 20/21 y/o.

he would meet elpenor (19/20 y/o) here but they never really get time to chat. elpenor does get teased for being dense and gets his intelligence mocked often by the other dudes and peri feels this protectiveness over him and he thinks elpenor is too nice.

now ody would be mid to late 30s (?) when he left for war i think. but, in epic, it seems like he was younger so if we say he was in his late 20s during the trojan, then peri's in his mid 20s when they leave Ithaca.

after the war, it's the events of the odyssey/epic. i have him lose an arm during ruthlessness as i've mentioned here.

i think my silly gays got close during the war period. if anyone got more specific questions, plz feel free to ask <3

[tabletopgayventures]

My current list of Tabletop Roleplaying Games.

13th Age

1879

A Grim Hack

Aberrant 

Absolute Power

Abyss

Accursed 

After The War

Anima Beyond Fantasy

Animal Adventures:  The Faraway Sea

Apocalypse World

Arkham Horror The Roleplaying Game Starter Set

Ars Magica 4th Edition

Arzium

Avatar Legends Starter Set

Babes in the Wood

Badger + Coyote and their Daring Adventures 2E

BattleTech:  A Time of War

Beacon Tabletop RPG

Beam Saber

Blades in the Dark

Bulldogs

Bunkers & Badasses

Cairn

Call of Cthulhu

Candela Obscura

Cantrip

Cats of Cathulhu

Chaos 6010

Champions Now

Collateral Damage

Contagion 2e

Cortex Prime Game Handbook

Cosmic Patrol

Cowboy Bebop Roleplaying Game

Coyote and Crow

Cthulhu Awakens

Cthulhutech

Cypher System 

Daisy Chainsaw

Deathmatch Island

Defiant Role Playing Game

Denial & Yearning

Dialect

Dinocar

Dinosaur Princesses

Discworld RPG

Dragon Age Roleplaying Game

Dragonbane

Dread

Dream Machines

Dresden Files Accelerated RPG

Dungeon Crawl Classics

Dungeons and Dragons 3.5

Dungeons and Dragons 5e

Durance

Dwelling

Epitaph

Epoch

Essence 20

Fabula Ultima

Fantasy Age

Fate Core System

Fever Nights Role-Playing Game

Flabbergasted

Fragged Empire

Fratboys Vs

Girl By Moonlight

Glitter Hearts

Goblin Quest

Goblin Slayer TRPG

Gods of Metal:  Ragnarock

Hannukkah Goblins

Have Axe, Will Travel

Hellfrost

Here, There, Be Monsters!

Hero Kids Fantasy RPG

Heroes Against the Darkness

Hopes and Dreams

Hounds 

I’m the Badguy?!?

In Nomine

In the Ashes

Inevitable A Doomed Arthurian Western

Ink

Interns In The Dark

Into the Dungeon

Jiangshi:  Blood in the Banquet Hall

Jordenheim

Katana-Ra

Kids on Bikes 2nd Edition

Killshot an Assassin’s Journal

Konosuba TRPG

Leverage The Quickstart Job

Lilliputian Adventure on the Open Seas

Little Fears Nightmare Edition

Lost Roads

Marvel Multiverse RPG

Mermaid Adventures

Micro rpg book

Modern Age

Monster of the Week

Moonlight On Roseville Beach

Mork Borg

Motel Spooky Nine

Musketeers vs. Cthulhu

Mutant Year Zero

My Mother’s Kitchen

Necrobiotic

Never Going Home

Night Shift:  Veterans of the Supernatural Wars

Night Wolves

Numenera

Odyssey Black Tales

OneDice Pirates & Dragons

One More Quest

Ork! The RPG

Our Woodland Gods

Outcast Silver Raiders 

Outgunned

Over the Edge

Overlight

Pasion De Las Pasiones

Pathfinder 1st Edition

Pathfinder 2nd Edition

Pathfinder Savage Worlds

Perils & Princesses

Pirate Borg

Power Rangers RPG

Prism

Psychic Trash Detectives

Punk’s Been Dead Since ‘79

Queerz!

Raccoon Sky Pirates

Raven

Rebels of the Outlaw Wastes

Reign

Rhapsody of Blood

Rivers of London

Ryuu Tama natural fantasy role play

Samurai Goths of the Apocalypse

Scum and Villainy

Shadowrun 5e

Shadows Of The Past

Shield Maidens

Shiver

Someone in this Tavern is a fucking mimic!

Spell The RPG

Squeeze

Star Trek Adventures Captain’s Log 

Star Trek Adventures The Roleplaying Game

Star Trek Adventures Second Edition

Star Wars 

Starfinder 1st Edition

Starfinder 2nd Edition

Stoneburner

Syma

Tangled

Temples and Tombs

The Bleackness

The Dark West

The Dread of Night

The Play’s the Thing

The Quiet Year

The Revenant Society

The Void

The Watch

Thirsty Sword Lesbians

This Discord has Ghosts in It

This house is Fucking Haunted

Thousand Year Old Vampire

Tomorrow City

Troika!

Unisystem

Urban Decay

Utopia

Vaesen

Vagabond

Valiant Universe

Variations On Your Body

Venture and Dungeon

Waffles For Esther

Wanderhome

Warcraft The Roleplaying Game

Werewolf the Apocalypse

What Lurks Above

What Lurks Beneath

What Lurks Beyond

World Ending Game

Yazeba’s Bed & Breakfast

Xianta Cyber Wuxia

Xoe Microplayer

Zweihander

I'll update this list as I get more. Feel free to send me ideas and also reblog this!

[koraesrambles]

BACK ON MY BULLSHIT :D https://www.webtoons.com/en/canvas/outcast-odyssey/list?title_no=933154

read the cool comic I write cuz it's cool and you'll be very impressed!

Featuring: Adalyia continuing to be too cool for school.

Devin being an angry boy

Blood spurts (very important, for my sake if nobody else's 😂)

Faces of regret

And also friends helping each other stand (I'm sure they're fine.)

Look how adorable! I'm so glad that nothing horrible or traumatic will happen to these innocent characters ever 😇

. . . someone should probably save them from me.

"Kidnapped and trapped on an alien world, Ricki and four other outcasts are forced to play a bloodthirsty game in order to get home." <- the plot

[koraesdoodles]

guys guys guys guuuuuuuuuys, I actually really like the art and pacing in this. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS? It means I'm improving ^.^ :D

[cdr2002]

Mortal Kombat Odyssey Bio: Onaga

In the ancient past of Outworld, the realm was divided into a various kingdoms, territories, townships, tribes, and communities.

The oldest of these, and for many centuries the most powerful, was the dragons. They were possibly the first sentient race to come about in the universe created from the defeat of the One Being, before even the humans who would go on to populate nearly every realm in some form or another. They were revered for their wisdom, their strength, and their majesty. And with their considerable army, they were virtually unchallenged.

With this power, respect, and seniority, the dragons of Outworld grew arrogant, believing that their position at the top of the food chain was secured, and their superiority self-evident. Even with the rise of the mighty kingdoms of the Shokan and Centaurs, it seemed that this would remain.

At this point, the latest of the Dragon Kings began to develop desires to expand his empire, and take all of Outworld under their banner. Cooler heads in his council were able to deter this ambition for a few thousand years, and Outworld remained in its status quo.

And then a child was born.

Two mere commoners in the Dragon Kingdom laid an egg which would hatch into the strangest dragon which had been seen in eons. He was… humanoid. Two arms, two legs, and while still towering like an elder Shokan, as he entered adulthood, he was smaller than many of the leviathans among the dragon race. A mutant.

His parents named him Onaga.

Onaga had a very difficult life as he entered the world. The other dragons found his mutation and appearance abhorrent, believing him to be hideous and even unworthy to be considered one of their kind. He was constantly berated and mocked, written off as an outcast and excluded at nearly every venue of life. Even his parents seemed ashamed of him, although they tried to keep up his self esteem in his youth.

This embittered Onaga over a period of centuries, causing him to hate those around him just as they hated him.

But there was something more than the pain of suffering this discrimination. Ever since he could remember, Onaga felt some kind of calling… a higher purpose. As if he was destined for some greatness. While the other dragons saw him as lesser, something told him that he was in fact a being most supreme.

He saw the universe before him and it was if he could bend it to his will…

Onaga’s arrogance allowed him to deflect many of the insults as he got older, and in the same span of time, he began to feel his own inner power grow. Something inside him that granted a might which the realms had never seen.

And one fateful day, it was time to let that power out.

Onaga suddenly snapped under the heckling of a group of his fellow dragons, killing them savagely. And he did not stop there.

As if all his rage had finally been unleashed, Onaga rampaged across the kingdom of the dragons, slaying all who stood in his path. Even his own parents fell victim to his staggering strength.

Entire armies were sent against him, and none of them were enough to stop his advance. Whatever innate power Onaga possessed was beyond them all.

Eventually, Onaga had single-handedly genocided almost the entirety of the dragon face of Outworld, reducing their once-great kingdom to ruin. His final foe was the king of their kind, who had his behind warriors for years and finally had nowhere else to run. Their battle was fierce, but Onaga ultimately succeeded, and laid claim to the title of Dragon King.

Onaga would not stop there, going across Outworld and exerting his might to encourage that all those in his path swore fealty to his burgeoning rule. Even the Protector God of Outworld, Shao Kahn, bent the knee to the Dragon King.

Within another century, Outworld had been reorganized into a unified militaristic empire under Onaga’s singular rule. Kingdoms which maintained their stature had become vassals and he had legions of loyal soldiers at his command which recognized his superior might or saw the opportunity to bring order to Outworld.

For several more millennia Onaga would reign unchallenged, using the intervening time to gain a mastery of several arts of sorcery, including a particular knack for resurrection magic, adding a force undead to his army that was fabled to be undefeatable, and which only grew with time.

He also gained a fascination with ancient legends, relics of potential use. The Amulet of Shinnok. The dark blade, the Ebbonrule. Remaining artifacts of the very dragon kingdom he had destroyed. All potential assets as Onaga began to grow in ambition beyond the bounds of Outworld…

Onaga envisioned a vast empire spanning the entire universe. All of existence beholden to his will. All he needed to do… was conquer.

The Dragon King sent forth his armies, commanded by undead generals and worshippers completely loyal to him, into other realms to seize them and allow him to merge these realms with Outworld. Among those conquests were the Kytinn home realm of Arnyek and the oceanic realm of Ebisu.

This merging of realms was an imminent threat to the relative peace the Elder Gods sought throughout the realms. If Onaga was not stopped, his expansionism risked reconstituting the One Being, and thus destroying the universe that the Elder Gods sought to protect, as well as resurrecting their greatest enemy.

Though still reluctant to interfere, they wished to put a stop to this expansion. Thus, the Elder Gods created the Mortal Kombat tournament. Onaga could no longer freely invade realms without incurring their wrath, and realms under threat had a means to defend themselves with minimal bloodshed.

Onaga was infuriated by this, quickly realizing that the Elder Gods were perhaps the greatest threat to the growth of his empire. He has always hated them, something inside him had always despised their arrogance and presumption to dictate the direction of the cosmos. They sat on thrones which Onaga felt rightfully belonged to him, and he would depose them through whatever means he could.

As the Dragon King regrouped his armies and reconsidered his options, he began to remember back to a story he had known since he was a boy, an unimaginable amount of time ago to most. No one had ever told him this story… at least not that he could remember, he just… knew it.

It was the story of the One Being, the Elder Gods’ battle with them, the creation of the universe

…and the advent of the Kamidogu.

Those artifacts had stayed in his mind for most of his life. He swore to himself that one day he would gather them all and unleash their power. That was his path to omnipotence and total dominion over all reality.

It was a goal his dreams of empire had blinded him to. Onaga realized that expansion through brute force was no longer necessary. If he could venture throughout the relams, or perhaps send agents to do so in his stead, he could gather the Kamidogu in time, without having to wage wars with other realms. Then he could lay siege to the Temple of Elements, claim the final piece, and unlock the secret required to unite these artifacts of the Elder Gods into one.

This however was one factor which his strange innate knowledge denied him… why? What force in the universe would grant him this knowledge of the ancients and forgo the final piece of it all. Perhaps something that had goals which did not align with his own?

Before Onaga could consider the matter of his mysterious benefactor further, he was assassinated at the hands of his advisor, Shao Kahn. The protector god poisoned a drink Onaga had been given, and laughed at him as he fell dead. Onaga damned him a coward as his body failed him.

His remaining loyalists were able to recover his corpse during the ensuing civil war for control of Outworld, taking it to a pyramid which would become known as the Lost Tomb, where powerful mystics among their number engaged a spell which caused the deaths of all present: a ritual suicide to join the ranks of Onaga’s undead army and serve him for eternity. Silent sentinels awaiting his inevitable return.

Shao Kahn succeeded in taking the throne of Outworld and began his own campaign to conquer and merge the realms, abiding the Elder Gods’ Mortal Kombat tournament for the time being.

But in his arrogance, Shao Kahn failed to truly understand the power wielded by Onaga. In his all his time of studying the mystic arts of life and death, Onaga had become virtually immortal. Death would not stop him.

His soul persisted, protected from the pull of any afterlife realm, and Onaga began to put a new plan in motion.

He commanded his mystic followers, the Lava Priests, to gather a stillborn dragon egg from the ruins of the dragon kingdom and construct a shrine around it. If necessary, the body within this egg would serve as Onaga’s new vessel in the living world when he decided to return. The Lava Priests were to stand guard of this shrine until their master’s resurrecifon, and for increased security, they conscripted a firespawn named Blaze using powerful mind control sorcery.

The second part of Onaga’s plan was to find a soul to serve as his agent in traveling across the realms and gathering the six Kamidogu so that he could seize them upon his return and begin his path to being utterly invincible. Onaga knew that this plan could take thousands of years, but despite his rage towards Shao Kahn, he was willing to be patient.

After thousands of years of searching, he honed his focus on Earthrealm, and in particular, a young boy seeking adventure…

Alternate poses

[general-kalani]

New commission post, this time gifs! Prices can be negotiated but I'm thinking temporarily $5/two gifs.

Icon commission post here, Dinosaur gif commission post here, Writing commission post here, TWD commission post here

Can be in AUD or USD but if you want to negotiate with any of the options below, lmk! Paypal here and Ko-Fi here

This is an ever growing list and if you ask for a specific movie/show/game/etc I'll do my best to get my hands on it.

Options under cut for what can be chosen:

ANCIENT ANIMALS

Dinosaur (2000)

The Land Before Time (1988 movie)

Walking with Monsters

Walking with Dinosaurs

Walking with Beasts

Walking with Cavemen

Walking with Dinosaurs special - Ballad of Big Al

Chased by Dinosaurs (episodes 1 & 2)

Sea Monsters (episodes 1, 2 & 3)

Prehistoric Planet

Planet Dinosaur

Dinosaur Planet

Primeval

Prehistoric Park

MOVIES

The Hunt for Red October

The Mist

Alien Planet

Dog Soldiers

Dragonlance Dragons of Autumn Twilight

The Last Voyage of the Demeter

Wing Commander (1999 movie)

SHOWS

Babylon 5

Battletech Cartoon

Bitten

D&D Cartoon

Stargate SG-1

Transformers: Beast Machines

Transformers: Beast Wars

Transformers G1

Transformers the Movie

Transformers Prime

Voltron Vehicle Force

Vox Machina (season 1 only atm)

ANIME - LEIJIVERSE

Cosmo Warrior Zero

Galaxy Express

Gun Frontier

Harlock Saga - The Ring of the Nibelung

Interstellar 5555

Queen Emeraldas

Queen Millennia (might not be high quality)

Space Pirate Captain Harlock

Space Pirate Captain Herlock: Outside Legend - The Endless Odyssey

SSX Endless Orbit

Arcadia of my Youth

Space Pirate Captain Harlock (2013 movie)

Space Pirate Captain Harlock: Riddle of the Arcadia

ANIME - IRRESPONSIBLE CAPTAIN TYLOR

Irresponsible Captain Tylor TV series

Irresponsible Captain Tylor OVA series

ANIME - LEGEND OF THE GALACTIC HEROES (original series only)

Legend of the Galactic Heroes series

Legend of the Galactic Heroes - Golden Wings

Legend of the Galactic Heroes - My Conquest is the Sea of Stars

Legend of the Galactic Heroes - Overture to a New War

Legend of the Galactic Heroes Gaiden

ANIME - MACROSS

Macross 7

Macross Delta

Macross Frontier

Macross Plus

Macross Zero

Robotech

SDF Macross

ANIME - REVOLUTIONARY GIRL UTENA

Revolutionary Girl Utena tv series

Revolutionary Girl Utena movie

ANIME - SPACE BATTLESHIP YAMATO/STAR BLAZERS (original series and reboot)

Space Battleship Yamato 2199 (Reboot)

Space Battleship Yamato 2199 - Odyssey of the Celestial Ark

Space Battleship Yamato 2202 (Reboot)

Space Battleship Yamato 2205 (Reboot)

Space Battleship Yamato I (OS)

Space Battleship Yamato II (OS)

Space Battleship Yamato III (OS)

Arrivederci Yamato

Be Forever Yamato

Final Yamato

Space Battleship Yamato (2013 movie)

Uchuu Senkan Yamato (1977 recap movie)

Yamato - The New Voyage

Yamato: Resurrection

GAMES - FAR CRY (only games I own, sorry!)

Far Cry 3 (Can be modded for Jason in Vaas' place)

Far Cry 4 (Can be modded for Sabal and Pagan to switch places)

Far Cry 5 (Can be heavily modded)

Far Cry: New Dawn

Far Cry 6

GAMES - STAR WARS

KOTOR (I and II)

SWTOR

Star Wars: The Force Unleased (I and II)

Star Wars: Rebellion

Star Wars: Republic Commando

Star Wars: Starfighter

Star Wars: Battlefront 2 (Classic)

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order

Star Wars: Jedi Knight series (Dark Forces I and II, Mysteries of the Sith, Jedi Academy, Jedi Outcast)

GAMES - BORDERLANDS

Borderlands (GOTY and GOTY Enhanced)

Borderlands the Pre-Sequel

Borderlands 2

Borderlands 3

Tiny Tina's Wonderlands

GAMES - MISCELLANEOUS

Aliens: Colonial Marines

Command and Conquer: Red Alert 3

Dead Island (Definitive Edition, can be modded to get rid of lens flares and more)

Dead Island Riptide (Definitive Edition)

Generation Zero

Left 4 Dead 2

Iron Harvest

Sins of a Solar Empire: Rebellion (Can be specific matches, races, etc)

State of Decay (I and II)

Strange Brigade

[thyrinea]

Nostos Theory - Document Update

So I'm here once again, this time with an update to the Nostos theory document!

Here is the summary of what I added:

- Changed all the fandom wiki redirects with wiki gg redirects; - Added an Archive for past theories about cantos that got added; - Added a Chapter for Canto 7.

If there's any mistakes, anything you would like to say or add- don't be afraid to reach out. I'd love to chat more with you guys <3