#The totems in the path of PAIN

[littlebittyhollowbugs]

They drive me insaaaaaaane !!!!!!!!!!!!

[luminescentmoth]

It's called the Path of Pain because the sound of the buzzsaws gives me a migraine.

[foxstens]

room randos are fun... and also really annoying sometimes

[dinosus]

₊˚.༄ Bonds That Run Deep₊˚.༄ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

[Sully Family x Lost Sibling! Reader (reader is Na'vi)] Synopsis : Years after a devastating loss, the Sully family is reunited with their long-lost eldest sibling, a moment that reignites both joy and heartache. Once thought gone forever, their sibling returns as a formidable warrior—precise with a bow, swift to tame an Ikran, and gifted in strategy—leaving the family in awe of their strength and resilience.

The reunion reshapes their bonds: Neteyam finds a steady partner to share his burdens, Lo’ak gains a rival and confidant, Kiri discovers a spiritual kindred, and little Tuk showers her newfound sibling with endless love. For Jake and Neytiri, it’s a bittersweet journey of healing, balancing pride in who their child has become with the weight of time lost. Warnings : very wholesome you will combust

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

-Jake and Neytiri had spent years mourning the loss of their firstborn, their hearts heavy with the weight of a child they believed Eywa had taken back. They never spoke about it openly in front of the other kids, not wanting their grief to cast shadows on the present. -When they first hear rumors of a lone Na’vi wandering far from the clan’s territories—someone who doesn’t quite fit in—the hope seems too fragile to entertain. -Neytiri dismisses it at first, her voice hard with pain: “It cannot be. Eywa has already decided their path.” -But Jake, ever to hold onto that speck of hope, feels something stir deep within him, a nagging sense that they need to find you. “What if it is them? Yawne, we have to try."

-When the family finally sees you for the first time, it’s almost surreal. -Your features are unmistakable—your eyes, your build, the small markings that Neytiri remembers tracing when you were just a baby. -Jake freezes in his tracks, his normally steady composure cracking as he whispers, “It’s you... It’s really you.” Neytiri’s reaction is more visceral. She falls to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she reaches out, her voice breaking: “My child... my baby...” -Neteyam is silent at first, the realization hitting him like a storm. He had heard stories of you but never imagined he’d see you. His hands tremble as he approaches, his voice soft but shaking: “Is it true? Are you... my sibling?” -Tuk clings to Kiri, confused but excited. “We have another sibling? Really?!” Lo’ak, ever the joker, tries to lighten the heavy moment: “Guess we’re not the favorites anymore, huh?”

-The initial reunion is a flood of emotions—tears, laughter, disbelief. Neytiri holds you close, her hands shaking as she cups your face, her words a mix of apology and joy: “I thought we lost you. Eywa has brought you back to us.” -Jake struggles to maintain his composure, his voice thick with emotion as he says, “We thought we’d never see you again. Look at you... You’ve grown so much.” While they’re overjoyed to have you back, Jake and Neytiri also carry immense guilt. -Neytiri often stays up at night, staring at you while you sleep, whispering quiet apologies to Eywa for letting you slip away. -Jake tries to make up for lost time by teaching you survival skills, even if you already know them. “I should’ve been there for you. Let me show you, just in case.” His attempts to reconnect often come with a tinge of overprotectiveness, something you can’t help but find endearing. -They both shower you with subtle but heartfelt gestures—Neytiri weaving intricate beads into your braids, Jake carving you a small totem to carry as a symbol of family.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

-Neteyam, being the oldest after you, feels an immediate kinship. He idolizes you in a way that catches you off guard. “You were always the strong one, weren’t you? Mom and Dad used to talk about you like you could do anything.” -From the moment the family reunites, Neteyam is drawn to you. His role as the responsible older brother has always been his identity, but now, seeing you—capable, strong, and wise—he feels a weight lift. -One evening, as the two of you sit on a high branch overlooking the forest, Neteyam glances at you, his voice soft: “I always wondered what it would feel like to have someone like you to look up to. Now I know.”

-Lo’ak’s first instinct is to test you. He’s always been the rebel, and he wants to know if you can keep up. -He constantly challenges you to races, sparring matches, or daring climbs. “Bet you can’t beat me to the top of that tree,” he taunts, already halfway up. But when you outpace him, he groans dramatically. “Okay, okay, maybe you’re a little cool.” Beneath his playful teasing, though, is a deep admiration. -Lo’ak rarely says it out loud, but the way he watches you when you're literally doing anything—speaks volumes. After a particularly close hunt or winning a race, he slings an arm around your shoulders, his grin boyish and proud: “You’re just showing off now, aren’t you?

-Kiri feels an almost spiritual connection with you. She’s drawn to the way you carry yourself, and often spends hours talking with you about Eywa and the balance of the world.

-“Do you feel it too?” she asks one evening, her voice soft as the bioluminescent forest glows around you. When you nod, she smiles, her eyes filled with quiet wonder. “I knew you would. You’re one of us.”

-She loves showing you the hidden wonders of Pandora, her excitement bubbling over as she guides you to a glowing grove or a stream filled with darting, luminous fish. “This is my favorite place,” she confesses, her voice a whisper. “Now it’s ours.”

-You often catch her sketching in the dirt or weaving patterns inspired by your adventures together. When you ask about them, she shrugs, a shy smile on her lips: “Just trying to remember these moments.”

-Tuk is absolutely smitten with you. From the moment she met you, she declared you her new favorite sibling. She’s always by your side, her small hand slipping into yours as you walk through the forest. “Can I come with you?” she asks, her big eyes shining with hope. -You find yourself teaching her little tricks—how to shoot a tiny bow, how to climb trees safely—and her laughter fills the air as she tries to keep up. “Look! I’m like you now!” she cries, beaming with pride. -At night, she curls up beside you, her head resting against your arm. “Don’t ever leave again, okay?” she whispers, her voice tinged with the innocence of a child. -The Sully siblings have always been close, but with you, their dynamic shifts in the best way. -You quickly become the target of their good-natured teasing, but you’re not afraid to dish it back.“I think you’re losing your touch, Neteyam,” you tease after a sparring match, earning an exaggerated groan from him and laughter from Lo’ak. -Lo’ak and Tuk team up to prank you, only to get caught when Kiri casually spills their plan. “You’re terrible at keeping secrets,” Lo’ak mutters, glaring at his sister. -One night, under the stars, the five of you sit together, the forest alive with its soft, glowing hum. Tuk is nestled against your side, Kiri is braiding your hair, and Neteyam and Lo’ak are arguing over who caught the biggest fish that day. -You take it all in—the laughter, the warmth, the love—and feel an overwhelming sense of belonging.“We’re stronger together,” Neteyam says, breaking through the chatter. He looks at each of you, his gaze lingering on you last. “All of us.” -Lo’ak groans dramatically, “Alright, enough of the sappy stuff.” But he doesn’t pull away when you ruffle his hair, nor does he hide the smile tugging at his lips.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

-Jake has always carried the pain of losing you deep within him, a wound he thought would never heal. As much as he’s overjoyed to have you back, there’s a part of him that struggles with the guilt of all the years you spent apart. -He watches you carefully in the first few days after the reunion, his sharp, observant eyes catching every movement, every expression. His voice, usually confident and steady, softens when he speaks to you. “You okay, kid? You settling in alright?” It’s casual, but there’s an unspoken fear behind the words, a need to make sure you’re truly here. -Jake’s pride in your abilities is almost immediate, but it grows tenfold as he watches you adapt to the Na’vi way of life with such ease. -When he sees you take down a target with a single, precise arrow, he lets out a low whistle, a grin spreading across his face. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. You’re a natural, just like your old man.” -Jake has always been fiercely protective of his family, but with you, it’s different. It’s not just about keeping you safe—it’s about making up for lost time. He wants to be there for every moment, to catch up on the years he missed. He’s quick to jump to your defense, even when it’s not necessary. -If anyone in the clan questions your place, Jake steps in before you can even respond, his voice firm but calm: “They’ve earned their place here. You’ve got a problem with that, you talk to me.” -As much as Jake wants to protect you, he quickly realizes you’re more than capable of handling yourself. -This both surprises and humbles him.“You don’t need me hovering,” he admits one day after watching you dispatch a group of enemies with precise, calculated movements. “But you can’t blame a dad for worrying.” His grin is sheepish, but there’s a flicker of pride in his eyes that makes your chest ache. -Jake doesn’t always say the words outright, but his love for you is evident in everything he does. The way he checks your gear before a mission, the way he pats your shoulder after a successful hunt, the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention—all of it speaks volumes. -One night, as you sit beside him under the stars, he breaks the silence with a rare, heartfelt confession. “I thought I’d lost you for good. And now, having you here... I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank Eywa enough.” His voice is rough, filled with a mixture of gratitude and regret.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

-Neytiri’s reaction to your return is a whirlwind of love, grief, and relief. She holds you tightly the moment you reunite, her tears mingling with the warmth of your skin. “You are home,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she cups your face, memorizing every feature. -At first, she can’t let you out of her sight. Years of fearing she would never see you again have left her protective, almost overbearing. Her eyes follow you wherever you go, her instincts sharp, ready to shield you from anything. -Neytiri is in awe of the person you’ve become. When she sees your precise aim with a bow or the way you ride your Ikran with effortless grace, her heart swells with pride. -She takes great pride in teaching you the finer details of Na’vi culture, even if you’ve already mastered much of it on your own. “You are part of us, my child. This is your place.” -Neytiri’s protective nature manifests differently than Jake’s. Where Jake might give orders or try to shield you, Neytiri approaches with quiet understanding. -When she sees you tending to a minor injury after a hunt, she rushes over, her hands gentle but firm as she insists on helping. “Let me see. You may be strong, but even warriors need tending.” -Neytiri takes you to her favorite places in the forest, sharing the beauty and serenity of Pandora with you. She points out the hidden treasures of Eywa’s world, her voice reverent as she speaks of the balance in all things. -One evening, she brings you to the Tree of Voices. Together, you connect to the tendrils of the tree, and she whispers, “They have watched over you. Eywa has always known you would come back to us.” -Neytiri enjoys teaching you skills you might have missed during your time away, like the subtle art of weaving or the ceremonial dances of the clan. But she’s also open to learning from you, impressed by the strategies you devise and the clever ways you solve problems. “You have your father’s mind for battle,” she says with a grin one day, “but your heart... that is mine.” -Neytiri makes it clear that she will fight for you, as she always has for her family. When anyone questions your place in the clan, her voice is sharp and unwavering: “They are my child. That is all you need to know.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

-It doesn’t take long for the Sully family to notice you’re more than just their lost sibling—you’re a force to be reckoned with. -Neytiri is the first to notice your precision with a bow. She observes silently as you nock an arrow, your stance firm and your aim deadly. The arrow sails through the air, splitting the fruit on a distant branch perfectly in two. Neytiri’s lips part in astonishment before a quiet, proud smile spreads across her face. She tilts her head, her voice carrying a rare, gentle tone: “Who taught you this?” -Learning to bond with an Ikran is no easy feat, but you take it as a personal challenge. The family watches anxiously as you ascend the rocky cliffside, Jake muttering under his breath, “They should take it slow. No one gets it on the first try.” -But you surprise them yet again. The bond happens so seamlessly that Jake stares in stunned silence, Neytiri gripping his arm as if to confirm it’s real. -Lo’ak blurts out, “There’s no way! It took me three tries!” Tuk, wide-eyed, tugs on Kiri’s arm. “Did you see that? [Y/N] is amazing!” Kiri smiles, watching them with fondness in her eyes. -When you soar through the skies for the first time, the exhilaration is clear on your face, but the family’s awe is almost comical. Neteyam watches you with unshaken admiration, his voice barely above a whisper: “I don’t think Eywa has ever made someone like them.”

-As the Sullys adjust to your presence, it’s clear you’re not just “the lost sibling” anymore—you’re an integral part of the family. Every member looks to you in their own way, whether it’s for guidance, comfort, or simply a shared laugh. -You’ve become a bridge between the past and the present, a reminder of what the family has endured and how much stronger they’ve become together. -Around the fire one night, Neteyam says it best: “We’ve always been strong, but with you here, we’re unstoppable.” And as you look around at your family—the warmth in their eyes, the love in their smiles—you realize he’s right. -This was your family, your fortress.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

A/n : AHHAaararagghh finally finished this 😭(yes i edited this one) I tried a new perspective, seeing how the Sullys would react with their long lost sibling coming back. Please leave a like :') Motivates me ALOT to write more imagines/headcanons for you guys ! :D Also don't forget to drink some waterr 🚰💦🏃‍♀️ Adios >:P

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Ignore these haha <3

[talonabraxas]

Scorpio Art by Johfra Bosschart (1974–1975)

Scorpio is ruled by the planet Pluto and is the 8th sign in the zodiac. Scorpio is represented by multiple symbols, the most potent symbols that stand out are The Scorpion, The Eagle, and The Phoenix. These three symbols or totems represent the stages of transformation Scorpio undergoes during the spiritual journey. Through peace of mind, we reach spiritual enlightenment. However, to induce the calm it takes to reach higher levels of awareness, Scorpio must have command of their emotions.

The First Stage: The Scorpion

The Scorpion, the first stage of transformation, represents our baser emotions, the darker emotions that we embrace. Low vibrational impulses seduce Scorpio as they continually react without understanding, empathy, or thought. The Scorpion easily expresses jealousy and anger, the primary source of Scorpio’s reactive behavior. If these traits are easily recognizable in a Scorpio, then be aware that their perception is limited by the control their emotions have on them, and they weighed down my insecurities.

Another source of frustration stem from hidden motives that they are either struggling to achieve or struggling to get started with. The Scorpion represents Scorpio at it’s rawest form; this is Scorpio at their most destructive and intimidating. The Scorpion isn’t going around, starting trouble. Still, because it’s highly protective of itself, ego and pride will retaliate with such a vengeance, it will seem as if Scorpio was the aggressor. Scorpio, at this stage, learns from personal experience and pain of loss & betrayal. Scorpio will take other’s advice with a grain of salt while forging their own path with deliberation, determination, and a dab of stubbornness.

This is also the stage where Scorpio is more prone to indulging in substances or activities that ease the mind, also making them susceptible to unhealthy habits in an attempt to reduce the anxiety and emotional impulses in the brain. The Scorpion eventually realizes that the best way to bring peace to mind, body, and spirit is through spiritual enlightenment, personal awareness, and growth. This newfound awareness eventually leads to the next transformational stage…The Eagle.

The Second Stage: The Eagle

The Eagle is the second stage of transformation and is considered a symbol of courage and power. The Eagle flies freely, aware of its surroundings and influence. The Scorpion has reached a state of maturity and is at a state where they rely heavily on intuition and wisdom to solve personal problems and assist the ails of others.

Where The Scorpion dealt mostly with the physical aspect of life, The Eagle is concerned with perception, philosophy, and wisdom. Their keen sense of observation infused with their powerful intuition allows them to discern an individual rather quickly and positively or negatively influence them with their persona. However, The Eagle still struggles with balancing the power of insight. Does The Eagle choose to influence the self or the whole?

The Third Stage: The Phoenix

The Phoenix represents the final stage of transformation for Scorpio. As we progress through Scorpios’ various stages of power, we see Scorpios struggle with balance. Will the composed Scorpio manipulate things to be as he wishes?

The extreme-natured Scorpio is tempered, Reborn from the ashes, renewed, and rejuvenated as The Phoenix representing the capacity for empathetic observation without judgment, thus an expansion of compassion and disillusionment of self. The Phoenix strongly associated with rebirth, resurrection, and transformation is a symbol that represents Scorpio breaking the chains of attachment, having learned the lesson of letting go.

[santoschristos]

Scorpio Art by Johfra Bosschart (1974–1975) Scorpio is ruled by the planet Pluto and is the 8th sign in the zodiac. Scorpio is represented by multiple symbols, the most potent symbols that stand out are The Scorpion, The Eagle, and The Phoenix. These three symbols or totems represent the stages of transformation Scorpio undergoes during the spiritual journey. Through peace of mind, we reach spiritual enlightenment. However, to induce the calm it takes to reach higher levels of awareness, Scorpio must have command of their emotions. The First Stage: The Scorpion The Scorpion, the first stage of transformation, represents our baser emotions, the darker emotions that we embrace. Low vibrational impulses seduce Scorpio as they continually react without understanding, empathy, or thought. The Scorpion easily expresses jealousy and anger, the primary source of Scorpio’s reactive behavior. If these traits are easily recognizable in a Scorpio, then be aware that their perception is limited by the control their emotions have on them, and they weighed down my insecurities. Another source of frustration stem from hidden motives that they are either struggling to achieve or struggling to get started with. The Scorpion represents Scorpio at it’s rawest form; this is Scorpio at their most destructive and intimidating. The Scorpion isn’t going around, starting trouble. Still, because it’s highly protective of itself, ego and pride will retaliate with such a vengeance, it will seem as if Scorpio was the aggressor. Scorpio, at this stage, learns from personal experience and pain of loss & betrayal. Scorpio will take other’s advice with a grain of salt while forging their own path with deliberation, determination, and a dab of stubbornness. This is also the stage where Scorpio is more prone to indulging in substances or activities that ease the mind, also making them susceptible to unhealthy habits in an attempt to reduce the anxiety and emotional impulses in the brain. The Scorpion eventually realizes that the best way to bring peace to mind, body, and spirit is through spiritual enlightenment, personal awareness, and growth. This newfound awareness eventually leads to the next transformational stage…The Eagle. The Second Stage: The Eagle The Eagle is the second stage of transformation and is considered a symbol of courage and power. The Eagle flies freely, aware of its surroundings and influence. The Scorpion has reached a state of maturity and is at a state where they rely heavily on intuition and wisdom to solve personal problems and assist the ails of others. Where The Scorpion dealt mostly with the physical aspect of life, The Eagle is concerned with perception, philosophy, and wisdom. Their keen sense of observation infused with their powerful intuition allows them to discern an individual rather quickly and positively or negatively influence them with their persona. However, The Eagle still struggles with balancing the power of insight. Does The Eagle choose to influence the self or the whole? The Third Stage: The Phoenix The Phoenix represents the final stage of transformation for Scorpio. As we progress through Scorpios’ various stages of power, we see Scorpios struggle with balance. Will the composed Scorpio manipulate things to be as he wishes? The extreme-natured Scorpio is tempered, Reborn from the ashes, renewed, and rejuvenated as The Phoenix representing the capacity for empathetic observation without judgment, thus an expansion of compassion and disillusionment of self. The Phoenix strongly associated with rebirth, resurrection, and transformation is a symbol that represents Scorpio breaking the chains of attachment, having learned the lesson of letting go.

[owl-with-a-pen]

So, I have reached the final episode of season 6 of my Supergirl rewatch and I just have to reiterate: they did Nyxly so dirty.

I still don't understand what they were thinking. Nyxly is the first person to pass the Courage Totem's test, she's inundated with empathy from the Humanity Totem, she's completely open with the Truth Totem and is granted access to the Love Totem by choosing the life of a child over her own quest for power.

So, why did they just bung her back in the Phantom Zone!?

It wasn't a satisfying ending, it wasn't even a character arc - it was a circle! She ended up exactly where she started. Sure, Lex's hubris being his own downfall made sense for him, but him being in the second leg of season 6 at all felt so unnecessary that that wasn't satisfying, either.

Here's how I like to imagine this story arc going, because I'm never going to have the time or energy to do anything with this idea besides writing it down like this:

So, we've got Humanity, Hope, Courage, Dreams, Love, Truth and Destiny. 7 Totems. 7 Super Friends. Say, each Totem was tied specifically to a member of the Super Friends and so we're given an episode per Totem exploring a member of the team and their unique relationship to what that core element represented for them. (They sort of did this in the show but only for a couple of the Totems and they never really committed to it as a theme).

Narratively speaking, the Super Friends are working together to beat the trials, which is exactly what a superhero team should be all about. Together, they represent the best the planet has to offer.

Except, that's not the point of the trials. To gather the AllStone, you have to do it alone. And who's doing it alone? Nyxly. Nyxly bares her soul to these Totems, she gains most of them independently without cheating and the further along she gets into the trials, the more she's able to overcome the very reason for her pain and anger that led her down this path to begin with.

The Super Friends aren't looking for power, that was never their goal, and so of course they aren't playing by the rules to gain it, they're doing it in a way that everyone equally shares a part of the burden and so the effect isn't as intense. For Nyxly, though, by gaining all 7 Totems and going through those associated trials, I like to think that by the end of her arc, she willingly gives up that power.

And maybe that's the whole point of the AllStone. Only someone worthy of power should gain it, and the only people worthy of power are the ones that don't want it. The AllStone isn't meant to be a weapon or even a tool used by an individual, it's supposed to be for the whole world to share. And so the very mechanics of the trial will either fail those corrupted by their thirst for power long before they get a taste, or teach someone the true values of their own humanity by fairly passing every test.

I know the show wanted to go out with a bang and a big-stakes CGI battle with all the trimmings, but Nyxly was never designed as a villain. She was hurt and angry, but that never made her evil. She was a fifth dimensional imp, all she ever did was cause mischief, and so having her face her own reality through the trials would have been a major grounding factor for her.

To have the final villain of the show willingly give up their power not because it was beaten out of them, but simply because they decided to feels right to me. They built up the stakes so high in this season to make Nyxly out as the most powerful villain they'd ever faced -- and so maybe the only way to beat her was for her to decide that the fight was no longer worth fighting.

I dunno, it just would've been nice if the AllStone had actually meant something at the heart of it, and that Nyxly actually had a satisfying end to her story that made sense for her character.

Oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[found-wings]

Phil has never been afraid of Death.

Not with the way Death seemed to follow him everywhere no matter where he goes.

A murder of crows always close by to watch him go about his day, bringing him gold and bones and small messages that mean the world to him. They guide him to where he needs to be and in return, Phil does as they want him to.

Phil was not afraid of Death.

Not with the comforting hold she has on him, staring into the eyes of any danger without hesitation because he knows that eventually Death will get him, will bring him back to where he belongs. It doesn’t scare him when he knows that Death is as gentle as Life is rough, throwing everything it has at him only to end up in Deaths warm embrace to tell him that he has lived a life of adventures, mistakes, success and constant running. That he may now finally rest and go back to what he once was and always will be.

Phil is not afraid of Death.

Not with his friends around, who he would gladly trust his life with if it ever came to it again and again.

So, why?

Why is he feeling like this?

Why is he holding on?

Why is he so..

"Etoiles-" his voice is barely a whisper when he chokes out his friends name, barely even there with the way his body is barely responsive by now. He can‘t properly move his arms nor wings, not his legs and definitely not his head.

Phil barely even registers the pain anymore and yet it hurts all the same, the pulling from his subconscious numbing his thoughts but igniting his feelings more and more.

"It‘s okay," Etoiles whispers back and his touch is so gentle. He can feel the way Etoiles cradles him, hand brushing away the stray and blood stained hair out of his face. "You are going to be okay."

And Phil knows he won‘t be.

'Okay' means alive, and Phil is not okay.

Phil is not going to be okay, he is not going to live.

Usually it wouldn‘t bother him, he‘s been here on the edge before more times than he can count. He knows when that mindset changed, doesn‘t want to admit to it, but it‘s just him and Etoiles. He wouldn‘t admit it to anyone but him. He who has been by his side from the beginning. He who has helped him out of the dark more times than he can count. He who has been a shining star in this dark and clouded life he‘s been living.

"'M scared." Phil admits, and he almost misses the way Etoiles‘ expression shifts to nothing but pain. Not physical pain, but he knows how much this must hurt Etoiles as much as it hurts Phil himself to admit this.

Phil, who has been a respected leader and figure of guidance.

Phil, who has been a force besides Etoiles in their battles against those that cross their paths and a consistent support.

Phil, who has been a favourite of Death herself.

..so scared.

Phil, who is so scared and terrified in all the ways he has never been.

"Why?" Is all Etoiles can ask in return, one of his hands letting go of Phil to rummage through his backpack to try and catch one of those totems he‘s lost track of from lack of usage. The brief loss of contact sends a small panic through Phil, a high pitched chirp escaping but he’s quickly reminded of his friends presence when Etoiles‘ other hand gives a small squeeze in return.

Phil tries to turn his head to gaze up at Etoiles more easily, ignoring his own pained whimper at how much it still hurts to move despite the numbness. "You.. 'm don't want to leave you."

And Etoiles freezes.

His body stops its motions and his eyes glance back at Phil, watching as his Phil gazes up at him with the weakest yet softest smile he has yet seen.

"You are not leaving. When have I ever let you die?"

Phil tries to chuckle, though he ends up in a small coughing fit that makes Etoiles wince.

"Never," Phil mumbles in response and it‘s this time Etoiles‘ turn to offer a smile.

And this wasn‘t going to change. Not now and not ever.

[samueldays]

To expand the animacy mention in previous post in a different direction,

people believed in ritual human sacrifice partly because it was forbidden and it attracted dark powers who liked murder and would reward murderers. By contrast, “blood magic” as it appears in for example the 2013 Shadowrun RPG locates the magical power in the blood itself, which leads to stupid shit about blood banks and blood storage and magical healing and economistbrain optimizations. Dark spirits won’t reward you for running a blood bank.

Shadowrun (5e) isn't alone about this stupid shit, RPGs have it going on lots of places.

Exalted had that whole deal with Wyld-Shaping Technique that creates implausible and esoteric magical reagents like "lost innocence", and frequent errata and contradictory developer comments on just what it can create.

D&D's Book of Vile Darkness introduced "liquid pain" that could be extracted from torture victims, allowing artificers to substitute it for experience points in crafting, and forgot to put any rules stopping wizards from creating liquid pain with various spells of creation ex nihilo.

Still, I'm going to highlight Shadowrun because it retains more of the 'silhouette' of a trope which IMO makes much more sense if you imagine a pact with dark powers, and then Shadowrun accidentally becomes economistbrain about it.

Shadowrun makes a big point out of blood magic being far beyond the pale even for 'normal' criminals. Shadowrun has fluff like this:

No one, save the truly mad, who practices blood magic can be blind to the inherently harmful nature of its practice, so the motivations for beginning to practice it must be strong enough to override any moral objections the individual may have.

Blood magic taints the user's aura, making him look demonic to those with the Second Sight.

Shadowrun has mechanics backing up the sort of thing you'd expect an evil spirit to demand in exchange for granting power to the magician. Blood of sapient creatures generates more power than blood of beasts. Blood of unwilling victims generates more power than willing victims. Lesser spirits you summoned by magic can't be used for sacrifice at all.

Power-from-blood is hard to store, fading in seconds unless one has a specially prepared ritual knife, and half of that still fades after a week because

The magical energy generated from a Blood ritual is tied to the spike in emotions that coexist with the violent act. As time passes and the emotional imprint of the event fades, so too does the magical energy associated with it.

Which mostly fits the archetype of a wicked patron that wants the magician to keep stabbing and killing people, not optimize a resource like it's a spreadsheet. The game narration warns:

Gamemasters should be cautious about allowing player characters to learn blood magic techniques and should be very clear on the costs—social, moral, and in game terms—about choosing this path.

But then Shadowrun sadly chickens out because less power from willing sacrifices doesn't mean no power, and less power from nonlethal harm doesn't mean no power, and the rules explicitly say the caster may count as a willing victim by cutting himself, gaining blood magic points based on damage inflicted. And then things turn economistbrain with blood as a generic resource to be optimized.

A skilled caster can cut himself lightly, store blood magic points in the ritual knife, heal the cut, repeat until the ritual knife is fully charged for a week. Moral costs? What moral costs? (For context, this is a setting with rapid magical healing.)

There is something called a "Blood Spirit" in Shadowrun. It does not teach blood magic. It is not a patron, nor a familiar. It is a summonable creature class that obediently does the will of blood mages. What a missed opportunity. Especially in light of the fact that several other magical traditions in Shadowrun do have totems and patrons that impose expectations and behaviors on the mage.

Some DMs might want to patch the flagellant battery exploit with rules that damage inflicted for blood sacrifice cannot be magically healed, or something else strictly mechanical.

But I think the more interesting approach is to use fluff: bring back animacy, stick a patron in blood magic, and have the patron inform the mage: "No more blood points until you stab someone else, smartypants."

[therealpactcommander]

CHARACTER POST: THORNE VÆTKISSON

The Pact Commander

Thorne is… different. That’s obvious enough. He’s short, has weird ears, and a tail.

That’s what happens when you’re ’wrong,’ he guesses.

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him exactly, he just knows that it’s ruined his entire life. He had been so proud when Snow Leopard came to him as a spirit guide when he was so young. Yet, the first time he had tried to ‘Become the Leopard,’ something had gone… wrong. Transforming had been described to him as a fast, enlightening experience- but why had it been so goddamn painful? He remembers little but the agony and his parents easing him through it, but it didn’t work. And then he was stuck, some half-cat abomination that stunted his growth and pushed him to the bottom of the totem pole. He had fought tooth and nail just to even be considered a good hunter- and at that point, that’s all he ever wanted to be.

Then he killed him.

His parents had been murdered the night his little brother was born. No clue who did it- just that it was the Sons of Svanir. Leaving him and his new family member with- to be frank- a horrible excuse for an uncle, only to hear that son of a bitch call Jormag ’Dragon,’ he realized all of it. He lost himself- he didn’t realize it until blood was on his hands.

But hey, participating in the Grand Hunt should take his mind off of it, right?

Thorne left for the Order of Whispers without telling anyone but his boyfriend about his real situation- he told his little brother that he was ‘going on a hunt up north’- when he never came back, it was assumed that he had been killed by the Sons of Svanir. This lead his little brother to start actively joining the fight against the cult on the assumption that they had killed his entire family, but that’s a different oc so a different story. Thorne, though he doesn’t like to admit it, didn’t think about his family for five years, only realizing he hadn’t seen either of them when he was about to be murdered by a rouge god. That, along with the fact that he had literally died by burning alive, he started spiraling into a depression that he tried to hide from the rest of Dragon’s Watch, and this goes on until the present in the story.

(It’s somewhat alleviated when he sees his brother and boyfriend in the Icebrood Saga, but the PTSD is not)

He was fairly “””fine””” up until The Departing, but after he was violently reminded that he was mortal, Tybalt, Eir, and Trahearne’s death started weighing even heavier on him. Every new death of an ally adds to this.

Around the end of Path of Fire after he successfully kills Balthazar, he starts dealing with chronic pain that he ALSO decides to hide (from everyone but Taimi, but he only tells her after Kralkatorik is killed.) Hiding this and forcing himself to continue functioning as normal is very debilitating and often leaves him extremely weak when resting at night. He also ‘makes up’ for it by throwing himself info anything, which only leads to him being downed often. (Lore reason to hide I’m ass at the game, but lets not talk about that)

The reason for most of his issues is actually caused by the ability to absorb magic like a dragon, which he is unaware of for the entire decade until it comes up in conversation with the Astral Ward exactly why he was considered a ‘magical anomaly’ outside of being a dragon champion. Of course when he does learn, it is a little obvious in hindsight- he’s able to summon aurene’s magic as wings (glider) before she was even born after getting her egg to the chamber. He also does the whole ‘commune’ thing despite having very little skill in spells. And of course, he was around for every time a magical deity released magic- and while the other dragons got most of it, he still got a little too much at once for his body to process, leaving him with the weakness and chronic pain. (This also allowed him to absorb some of Kralkatorik’s magic when his hip was branded, meaning it didn’t spread and he could remove the brand.)

He has a theory that it may have something to do with his (and his little brother’s) inability to shapeshift, though he doesn’t have anything to back that up.

This only makes him hate himself more, of course, because he literally can eat magic like a dragon and most dragon’s he’s met have been trying to destroy the world.

His father is from Hoelbrak, where he grew up, but his mother was from up north, where a select few words of the norn language had survived, (as opposed to the south 100% losing the language and the only surviving world LITERALLY being ‘Hoelbrak’) and Thorne was taught these few words as a kid and mostly uses them to curse. Once being around the Astral Ward, however, it’s only common sense that ancient Wizards and such would have dead languages around, and he took his mind off of everything by studying it and becoming fluent because besides hunting kryptis he had nothing to do. at all.

[axelssillystories]

The Lantern (2020)

The Seer stared into the machine, willing forth its dire visions. A golden glow entranced his eyes and infinite strands of light wove together to induce hallucination. Dreams overtook him, dreams of a time distant in an uncertain direction. Yet each flash of the people and places beginning, growing, and dying violently before his eyes bore a painful familiarity. He knew that he was watching the end of the world, and of every world conceivable. Trillions of winding paths through starry blackness converged on one point, one locus of unavoidable and profound catastrophe. It was the end of everything. 

Inhaling sharply, the Seer drew his face back from the device, a black metallic object which resembled a lantern. He thumbed the power switch to the off position. A deep sigh sounded to the Seer like it came from somewhere far off, but he knew it to be his own breath. His eyes scanned slowly across the familiar space of the little cabin in which he lived. Arcane totems and obscure texts cluttered the walls and the shelves and the table at which he sat. Books and codices were strewn about, left open to pages on topics that bore no logical correlation with one another. The curtains were drawn tightly shut. 

It hadn’t always been like this. The Seer’s home had been a place of order and peace. The cabin was the type of sanctuary he’d always sought. It had been seven weeks since he acquired the lantern, seven weeks of encroaching disarray. The thing was damned puzzling, and he had spent his recent days on a rotating schedule of manic study and long hours of half-sleep. Exhaustion weighed him and fear would not let him rest. 

Without thinking, he retrieved a hand rolled cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit it with a long match. The smoke was what kept him sane, he thought, or at least willing to live within the realm of madness. It felt as though not an instant had passed before he was through with one and smoking another. A third one satisfied him. He sat for a few minutes in relative contentment.

A loud, rhythmic knock sounded at the door. The Seer’s heart dropped and then fluttered, giving way to a steady pound. He grabbed an iron dagger from his table and bolted to the door. He swung it open with a violent jerk. 

“Gods below!” he bellowed into the face of the visitor standing before him, a tall man in a long, dark green coat and a broad brown hat. “You scared an old man half to death, you damn devil!”

The man’s sunburned, stubbled face was earnestly remorseful. He raised his hands like a man surrendering. “I do apologize, gray one. I intended no fright and I have no devilish business about me.” His eyes drifted to the dagger quivering in the Seer’s hand. “Please, venerable sir, there ain’t need for the knife.”

The Seer squinted at the man in the bright light of the summer day for a few moments, and lowered the dagger to his side. He took several deep breaths. “It is I who ought to apologize, traveler. I’ve not seen a soul in many days.” He chuckled and shook his head. “How else should a man announce himself but knock? I’ve become unreasonable.” 

The visitor smiled and waved his hands in dismissal of the transgression. “Think not of it, gray one. Does not every man’s reason lapse?”

“It is so,” the Seer said with a nod. “Pray forgive my rudeness, but what type of man are you? You speak well, but with the thick accent of an outland peasant.”

“No rudeness, wise man. I am a ranger from the outlands but I have traveled to many places and spoken with many esteemed scholars such as yourself.”

“Such as myself?”

The man paused and frowned slightly. “Are you not the sage Gyges?”

“I am he.”

The visitor grinned broadly and clapped his hands together with satisfaction.

“But who are you?” Gyges said. “And why have you sought me?”

“My name is Abner. Abner Longwake. At your service, I hope.” The man took off his hat

and bowed, then placed the hat back on his head. 

Gyges frowned. “I should hope so as well. Please, tell me your business.”

Abner cleared his throat. “Well, I understand that you are known for collecting and cataloguing various items of peculiar quality. It is one such item I seek, that I have been sent after.”

“What item? And who has sent you such a long way from any of the kingdom’s cities or towns?” A growing suspicion raised Gyges’ pulse.

“I am told it is like a lantern, an electric one that does not die.”

“Who told you of this thing?” Gyges clutched the dagger more tightly.

“I was told of it by the man who sent me.”

“And who’s that, boy? I dislike that you have not named him.”

Abner sucked his teeth and frowned. “It is a condition of my employment that I do not name him. And more importantly for us both, there is a further condition that I am to bring him the lantern no matter what, at any cost to property or human life.” He placed a hand on one hip, drawing his coat back to reveal a long barreled pistol at his side, still longer for the silencer attached to its muzzle. Abner gave Gyges a look of sympathy as he saw the fear in the old man’s eyes. “I must reassure you, the gun is not the only way to resolve this business. But I have brought it should verbal persuasion not suffice.”

“No devilish business indeed,” Gyges said softly. “You would kill me to possess this device of which you know nothing.”

“I would indeed. Would you die to keep it from my hands?

“I can see that I might. And I can see that I might not. We should talk of it first.”

Abner stood in silent thought for a few moments. “We may discuss it more. But while you appear uncertain, I must tell you that I shall not leave without the lantern.”

 “Come inside first, and hear my argument. You may be persuaded yet.”

Abner bowed, letting his coat cover the gun once more. “I thank you for the invitation. I’ll gladly hear you, especially in a place of shade.”

Gyges grunted and waved him in. He closed the door and opened the curtains, dispelling the darkness in the cabin. Abner looked about with mild interest at the many artifacts and oddities, his eyes lingering on the lantern in the far right corner. He took a seat on one of two wooden chairs at the table, and Gyges sat across from him. The old man had brought with him a clay jug and a pair of cups. They filled the cups with cool tea from the jug without speaking. After taking a long draft, Abner raised his cup to Gyges. “A fine refreshment, gray one. Perfect for a mighty thirst such as I have had.”

“Fine indeed for such a rogue as you. Most people would have served you piss.”

“And so I salute you for your exceptional grace.”

Gyges scowled and shook his head. “Let us dispense with banter. Your task here is unwise, and the thing you seek should not be in the hands of one who would kill to possess it.” He took a drink of tea. “I have studied the marvels of the world since I was a small boy, seen countless wonders of technology and old magic. There are a great many things I understand intimately which the average fellow would struggle to grasp on a basic level. Mathematics and history, language and law, alchemy and herblore. Many things that could snap a more feeble mind.

“But this thing, this alien machine...its nature and purpose escape my mind. Grasping its truth has been like catching not one but a thousand slippery fish with just my two hands.” He drained his cup and lit a cigarette. “The only thing I am truly certain of is that it is powerful. Whatever purpose it has must be served with the utmost potency...the strength of gods.”

Abner finished his tea and poured himself another cup. “Well, perhaps it may comfort you that the one who sent me has apparently divined some purpose for it.”

“That does not comfort, but disturbs. I have seen the visions that the lantern shows, and they are of devastation that cannot be properly articulated in the tongue of a mortal. A man with a use for that must be malevolently insane.”

“I was told that gazing into its light may have a bewitching effect.”

Gyges pointed at the lantern. “Switch it on. Look into the light. Try to explain to me what you see.”

Abner chuckled. “I think not, gray one. If it shakes you so then I can’t imagine what it may do to a simple fellow like me.” He drew out and lit a cigarette of his own. “And why should you so desire to keep it if it gives you such horror?”

“Desire? No. It is obligation which I feel. If I spend more time with it, gods know how long, I may be able to understand what it really is.” 

“Do you suppose that it’s worth straining your mind to its last fibers? To judge by the look in your eyes, it’ll drive you mad long before you grasp its mystery.” Abner’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “I can see it happening already. Your beard is gnawed and ragged and you smell of shit. You’ve had it for not two months yet, no?”

“Seven weeks.”

Abner laughed. “And that was all it took to set you to cracking up. Proud old wizard, unable to accept that there are things he cannot know. Like the subject of a parable told to children in a temple nursery. Idiot kids, but wiser than you.”

Gyges growled and banged his fist on the table. “Fool! You know not what I have seen!”

“And I do not desire to know. It’s not in my interest to be driven mad by some eldritch vision.” Abner’s hand dropped below the table, and Gyges could hear the undoing of the snap on his holster. “All that I want is to be paid for the task I have been hired for. My ignorance is better than your knowledge, for I shall stay at peace while you quake and crumble.”

Gyges stared at Abner and shook with mounting rage. 

“Have I touched a nerve, wise man? Are you now forced to look at the futility of the philosopher’s task?”

Gyges said nothing.

Abner nodded. “Well. This has been a stimulating discussion, but I fear I must press the only relevant question which remains to either of us as of now. And I require a quick answer. Will you allow me to take the lantern in peace, or will you die here on this day?”

A few long moments of silence passed.

Gyges sprung from his chair and let out a scream like a wild beast. He lunged across the table with hands outstretched. Abner’s gun came up in an instant, and he fired twice. One bullet exploded into the old man’s chest and the other blasted his face into a gruesome wreckage. The Seer’s body collapsed onto the table, falling onto the clay jug and smashing it. Blood mingled with tea and numerous documents spread across the table were soaked to ruination.

Abner sighed and stood up from his chair. “Poor old buzzard. And a waste of good tea.” He turned the body over and inspected the shirt pocket. “Smokes are ruined too. Altogether a less than ideal outcome.” He laughed a short, bitter laugh to himself, and stepped towards the lantern. With it securely in hand, he left the cabin behind and descended the path into the wooded valley below.

[dailycharacteroption]

Geminate Invoker (Barbarian Archetype)

(art by PaleLonginus on DeviantArt)

The barbarian class has had an element of the supernatural in it as far back as Advanced Player’s Guide, with these warriors channeling their rage into the elements and invoking the shamanistic power of totem spirits.

Today, we’re going to look into an archetype that taps into that spiritualist side a bit more.

Tied to the Rivethun tradition of using one’s own transitional aspects to help bridge the gap between material and spiritual, the geminate invokers do not rage the way other barbarians do, instead entering a more tranquil trance and inviting spirits into their bodies, enhancing their reactions and deadening pain to avoid and endure much, as well as tapping into the power of those spirits in other, interesting ways.

Much like other Rivethun practitioners, these warriors are all in a state of between-ness. Some might be transgender or nonbinary. Others might be halfway between two worlds such as half-elves, half-orcs, any geniekin or planar scions, and other such states. However, while shamans use Rivethun practices in their magic, the power of these warriors ties more into the totems we are already familiar with in the barbarian class.

That’s right, this archetype plays with the totem rage powers in a way that the totem warrior “archetype” never did. (For those that are unaware, the totem warrior barbarian was an “archetype from APG back when the concept was introduced, and literally granted no different abilities whatsoever. It was just something you could tack on if you chose to take a totem rage power). So you can imagine my excitement in getting to delve into this topic today!

These invokers are a bit more cerebral than other barbarians, learning more skills. What’s more, their battle fury is focused less on the harm they can do, and more upon enduring and avoiding harm. They can even still use their cerebral skills in this state. However, they notably will not commit to a totem.

Additionally, these warriors can accept a haunt spirit into themselves to attempt to quell some or all of it’s fury, though this is not as efficient as when a medium does it.

The real meat of this path, however, comes when they begin to channel totem spirits when they enter their trance, effectively gaining a lesser totem power of their choice. However, they have trouble channeling spirits that are morally opposed to them, or those that would not be present in an area for whatever reason. Over time and mastery, they gain access to the greater abilities of the totem as well.

Being able to pick a totem each time you rage, treating those sets of rage powers like power suites is everything I wish the totem warrior archetype was back in the day, so I highly recommend this archetype if you wanna play around with those. However, the rage of these invokers grants no bonus to strength, so you’ll likely want to build for defense and tanking instead, and tailor you totem choice when you trance to the situation.

The geminate invoker is a perfect opportunity to explore the spirits associated with the various totems. What sort of beings are they? How does the warrior’s personality change when they invite them inside? The interactions they might have with the spirits can add a lot to the character.

Like all mustelidals, Blue Stripe is a tenacious warrior of an agathion that strikes hard against evil wherever they find it. However, what is interesting is that they do not wield their fists, but rather a large greatsword, and have a knack for speaking to nature spirits, perhaps a relic of their previous life, when they were a spiritual warrior.

Kazhao of the Tranquil Waters is a famed champion among merfolk, her skill with a trident unmatched. She even calls upon the spirits worshipped by her people to aid her, becoming ferocious and powerful in such a state.

Oten, a sun spirit, and Mani, a moon spirit, have a long history together, and they bicker constantly, much to the chagrin of Kuva, the invoker warrior who got saddled with both of them as their patron. Getting them to put aside their differences and work together is their constant struggle.

[foolish-bean]

Self-Forgiveness Enchantment: R&D Process

Before I start...

I'd like to share this: There are so many ways you can radiate magick throughout your life. This is the main idea I always revolve my spells around as I create them. Anything can be magickal because YOU are magickal. There is power in doing what makes you feel enlightened and at peace with yourself and the universe.

Yeah, spells are like recipes. If you'd like, you can replicate it to a T. But sometimes there will be missing ingredients that only YOU will have the palette to discover. I put a lot of thought and research into every single aspect of my ritual, and I'd like to explain my reasoning along the way, but by no means does that suggest there is one way to perform spellwork.

Change the hour; pick a different day; pray to another deity; replace an ingredient; omit a ritual. Do as you please, the magick starts with you.

I implore you to not replicate the rules, but instead replicate the feeling this enchantment aims to establish. I mean...why else would you cast it? Tailor this to you.

Don't let the pressure of perfection stop you from trying.

Okay, let's get this party started: Brainstorming

...feels like a spell in and of itself. I usually start off by using my favorite divination tool (tarot cards) and my greatest motivator (emotional pain) to inspire what grand message I would like my next spell to express. Think of each thing I highlight in pink as an ingredient to the spell.

This process led me to the V of Cups (Reversed). Seeing this card elicited a powerful feeling inside me. Before, I had been guilt-ridden and ashamed of my emotional downfall after so many months of hard work. I was so blinded with grief that I failed to take proper inventory of all the things I still had. Seeing this card reminded me that not all was lost...a path to recovery and self-acceptance was possible.

With this card, I can see what themes will be important for me to hone in on as I move through development: acceptance, hope, forgiveness, gratitude, kindness, and recovery (1).

Because the card itself is associated with these themes, it only felt natural to celebrate it and all of its magickal associations.

V of Cups Correspondences:

Element - Water

Zodiac - Scorpio (also associated with themes of regeneration and justice) (2)

Numerology - 5

Deities - Poseidon, Aphrodite, Isis, Boann, Hera, Hathor (3)

Out of these options of deities, I felt more connected to Isis, so I decided to honor Her.

Each of these correspondences has correspondences too! That's what makes researching so much fun, it's a never-ending rabbit hole. I continue by learning how my spell could celebrate each of these new "ingredients" in some shape or form. I'll go through each one by one.

Water Correspondences:

Performing a tea ritual (my favorite thing to do since I LOVE tea)

Collecting moon water (or really any magickal water) (4)

Bath or shower ritual! Because of time constraints I'm omitting this from the enchantment, but I still wanted to suggest this. (5)

Green/blue candles - blue candles are especially wonderful for protection and healing

Planetary hour of the moon - effective hour for emotional messages, magickal rituals, and visionary work as well (6)

Herbs: Basil - lol, there are many more but it's the only one I have on hand

Isis is also associated to water!

Scorpio Correspondences:

Wait for a Scorpio moon - I had already passed the time window for a Scorpio sun, so that was a goner lol. In my time zone, a Scorpio moon gives me a time window of around 2 days to choose my planetary hour from. I do know that the moon is in its fall in Scorpio, and unfortunately my natal chart doesn't support a Scorpio moon but I don't see any of this as a bad thing. I see spell casting during a fall as a symbol for a time of deep inner work and transformation. It might be helpful to call upon spirit guides/totem animals for protection, and to incorporate as many Scorpio associations as you can to strengthen your intentions and power. Meditation and intense reflection is also appropriate during this time. (7)

Herbs: Echinacea (also strengthens the power of other herbs), Basil (this one specifically supports a Scorpio moon, how lucky am I? lol)

The Number "5" Correspondences:

I usually incorporate numerology in my spellwork through the creation of a witch's bottle. Pick five ingredients to be in this bottle to capture the numerological intention behind the number. It's super fun to do, and gives me an excuse to use additional "ingredients" that I think can strengthen the enchantment.

Planet: Venus

Color: Pink

This number is associated with change and love, so it fits well with my themes

The door is wide open to get creative with this one. You could present five offerings to a deity, steep five herbs in your tea, recite a mantra five times, etc. The whole point is to just be intentional on how you incorporate the number.

Isis Correspondences:

This applies to any deity you call upon during spellwork: research as much as you can about them. Spending time and effort learning about their origins and purpose is already a grand form of respect to offer. This action alone is remarkably helpful in understanding nuances in how you should communicate to them, and what is (in)appropriate to ask of them. Isis is a nurturing Goddess, so She is not remarkably difficult to communicate with, she's actually a joy to be around from my experience. This is not the same for every deity, so be careful!

Loves sweets!!! Candy, raisins, milk, and tea work too. You can offer baked goods, like brownies for Her, and she'll be very pleased. Again, you can get creative. Because I'm performing a tea ritual, I'll be offering Her some tea, and some candy and raisins.

Loves the color green

Recite a prayer to Isis. You can create one or find some around the web. Don't just read the words aloud, establish your own connection to them first. You can also draw symbols associated to Isis physically or in the air. Another idea is carving them into a candle used for the enchantment

There are MANY associations you can incorporate for Isis that can strengthen your connection to Her. There are incenses, totem animals, oils, herbs, flowers, and many more offerings you can give that align with your interests.

Yay! Next up is the outlining phase...

Whew, that felt long yet I know there are so many other details I didn't expand upon for clarity's sake. That brainstorming phase was a lot so let's start this one off by recapping all the elements I'd like to incorporate in the enchantment. I'm gonna organize them by rituals I'd like to perform, magickal times I'd like to consider, and motifs I'd like to include.

Rituals: Research deity Moon water collection Tea ritual Prayer to deity Witch's bottle Magickal Times: Scorpio moon (Ex. Dec. 9th, 3:35 AM - Dec. 11th, 11:11 AM) Hour of the moon (Ex. Dec. 9th, 6:40 PM - 7:51 PM) Motifs (think of these as the main ideas of the spell): Themes: Acceptance, hope, forgiveness, gratitude, kindness, recovery, self-love, healing Tarot Card: V of Cups (Reversed), Suit of Cups is also applicable Element: Water Planet: Mars/Pluto (Scorpio), Venus (number 5) Zodiac: Scorpio Number: 5 Deity: Isis Sub-motifs (think of these as supporting ideas): Planet: Mars/Pluto (Scorpio), Venus (number 5) Colors: Blue (water), Green (water/Isis), Pink (number 5) Herbs: Basil (water/Scorpio moon), Echinacea (Scorpio) Deity offerings (ex. sweets)

If the brainstorming phase looked like a hot mess beforehand, I hope it looks more digestible now! Keep in mind, this is still a planning phase so I might omit/add "ingredients" to adjust for time constraints and availability. Usually, ingredients added during outlining serve as "strengtheners" in the spell.

For example, I know I want a witch bottle containing five ingredients, but also know my current list of sub-motifs lacks a diversity of magickal items. I could include more items that align specifically with the themes of the spell. This is where additional research into crystals, flowers, oils, spirit guides/totem animals, and more comes into play. This is also where trusting your witch eye will be most vital in determining what the last few ingredients will be.

I have many crystals associated with themes related to healing and hope and even the Mother Goddess, Isis, but it is my responsibility to determine which stones will be fit for the job. It's like they're all auditioning for Witchcraft Idol and I'm their Simon Cowell, but much nicer, of course.

I'm gonna skip the long explanation and provide a small-ish list detailing the extra ingredients I'm adding.

Herbs/Spices: Rosemary: A favorite that I love adding to my tea ritual. Works wonderfully at healing and removing negativity. Also best to use on Saturdays or Sundays, the very days I'll be casting. Himalayan Pink Salt: Works wonderfully as a cleanser. The pink salt aligns nicely as a witch bottle ingredient. Totem Animal: Dinosaur: I've recently felt a strong spiritual connection to the dinosaur, specifically the Brachiosaurus. I was hesitant at first, but upon some digging, I think the dino is a great totem animal for this enchantment. The dino's reign on Earth reminds me of the tenacious spirit of Isis. Their ultimate demise can teach us to let go of the past, embrace new beginnings, and make peace with the highs and lows that come with the cycle of life. Sounds like a perfect fit to me. (8) Crystals/Stones: Carnelian: Associated with Isis and the number "5". Works to restore vitality and motivation. One of my favorite crystals, and the only one I have as a sphere. Will serve as a wonderful offering to the Mother Goddess. Tourmalinated Quartz: This buddy is like an old reliable to me. This crystal is remarkably powerful as it combines the energies of Black Tourmaline and White Quartz to serve as a mighty protector and amplifier. This baby is also one of few crystals that can be associated to all planets, zodiacs, and elements. Also happens to be my only tower, lol. This gorgey hun will solely serve as support during the enchantment. Merlinite: Another bestie of mine. I have this one in the shape of a palm stone, making it perfect to hold as I meditate. Merlinite is especially effective at connecting with totem animals and encourages you to face your shadow self. A very, very wise, trustworthy stone that is great for healing rituals. Hematite: I felt like I was missing an earth related ingredient that could serve to ground me. Upon learning the power of Hematite, I knew this would be a great addition to the line-up. This stone works to lift shame and despair and replace it with the determination to do better and take responsibility. Self-forgiveness can go nowhere without the intent to work for a better future. Moonstone: Very powerful as it is associated to Isis, all planets, and the Scorpio zodiac. The spell will be cast when the sun is in Sagittarius, another sign supported by the Moonstone. Insanely perfect fit for this spell. It can function as psychic protection and as an emotional balancer. Peach Selenite: I have a bias for my peachy baby! Serves as a cleanser and is associated to Pluto, a ruling planet of Scorpio. She also promotes self-awareness and acceptance. A perfect 10. Pink Opal: Associated with the Divine, Scorpio, Sagittarius, and water. Great healer...and it's pink! :) Rose Quartz: This will be an ingredient placed in the witch bottle, as I have a few small chips ready to put in some work. It's pink and aligns with water and Venus....so it was practically made for this bottle! This last addition is an incredible healer and fills the soul with love thy self and thy neighbor.

OMG, this was wayyyyy longer than I anticipated. I'm gonna make another post soon with just the spell itself, but I thought it would be interesting to share my process, as I'm always curious to understand all the moving parts that create magick.

See ya on the flippity flip flop! :)

Sources/Further Notes:

(1) I've been using this beginner tarot deck I got from Temu to help me get reacquainted with all the magickal associations to the cards. If you're new to tarot, I think this is a wonderful deck to start your journey off with and it's super affordable as well.

(2) Silver Ravenwolf. Solitary Witch: The Ultimate Book of Shadows for the New Generation. Woodbury, Minn., Llewellyn Publications, 2009.

The bulk of all the magickal associations and info I've gathered come from this FANTASTIC book of shadows. Just thinking of this grimoire makes me want to cry tears of joy because it single-handedly kickstarted my obsession with spellwork.

(3) Tarot card and deity associations Tumblr post I found that was sooooo helpful

(4) Magickal water properties from Pinterest

(5) My bathtub looks like it came out of a horror film, no way am I bathing in there, I won't be able to focus! Witchcraft can do a lot, but it will never convince me to fester in that tub! Here are some effective shower alternatives if the bath is a no-go.

(6) Use this wonderful planetary hours calculator to find the astrological association with the hour of the day from your locale.

(7) There is sooo much information about the moon that is instrumental to spellwork, this post is already long so I won't go any deeper into it. Here is a great site to get detailed astrological info about the moon from your locale

(8) Additional information on the spiritual meaning of the dinosaur can be found here

[ask-naraenil]

Unconditional Love - 25th Oct 23

Fatigue shot through her body, aching her muscles and burning her nerves. She felt heavy and worn in a way she never felt until a few decades ago.

Nara’enil grabbed the last handhold on the rise and pulled herself onto the ledge. Under the light of the two moons, she squinted at the Ohn’ahran Plains, its green vastness peppered with thickets of trees spread before her. 

Once upon a time, a girl with hair as blue as the depths of the ocean winced as the mighty bear whose scalp she grazed with her arrow transformed before her eyes into a full grown druid. With blood streaming down his white hair, he shouted at her so loudly she swore his voice echoed through the woods and scared away any other predator within the next mile.

She followed his footsteps as they departed for Feralas the following day. 

She remembered a pair of faces welcoming them when they arrived at his home after their lengthy journey. Both were similar in their dark hair and sculpted cheekbones; similar in their soft jawlines, and in the shapes and golden hues of their eyes. She remembered thinking that she had been adopted into a family of greatness, so the ancient stories went. 

She remembered the formal yet gentle kindness of the woman - the druid’s wife. She remembered sleepless mornings when the elder priestess sat with her by the sea, and taught her about the Goddess in ways that the sisters in Hyjal who looked after the orphans did not. 

She remembered the reticence of their son, who looked too much like his mother. A youth of her age who had yet to fully grow into himself. Who shied away when his father introduced her as his new sister. She remembered the realization that he - that they - were her family now, and for as long as she lived, she would protect them with her life. 

Once upon a time, a young Sentinel with violet leaf markings destroyed a cursed totem atop a peak in a mountain range. She was descending a cliff when the skies erupted with torrential rain. Her grip slipped on a moss grown rock and she could not grab another in time before lightning struck the outcropping just beside her, and broke the rocky shelf she clung to.

As she plummeted, expecting to be welcome in the arms of the Mother Moon, the beat of wings reached her ears and the pain of sharp talons dug into her shoulders, trying to slow her free fall. It dragged her mid air towards the trees near the shrine of Aviana, that was the nearest place of refuge. Her leg broke, as did her arm as she crashed through several layers of canopy and landed in a heap on the ground. The owl that saved her life turned into the most beautiful man she ever saw. He brought help and rushed to her side.

A century later, they tied the knot under the roots of their home, in the presence of their handful of friends and family, and with the stars as their witnesses.

There was a tall tree nearby with branches low enough to climb onto. Nara’enil scaled its bole and found enough space on a particularly broad limb to lie down. It was something she had done all of her life: find a safe vantage point and seek refuge in the open. The sky was a roof more familiar to her than those indoors. 

She could feel the leaks. The ‘surges’ of the Dream coming into the physical world, frontlines where the Circle’s archdruids went to contain them, while recruiting anyone willing to help not just with collecting the living energies, but to fight back the opportunistic incursions from the Firelands. 

The burns on her torso and her arms still stung, even though they were healing. Nara’enil rested her weight against the trunk, carefully unholstering the staff on her back. She tried not to let the flashbacks to the fires and flames stop her from seeing to her comfort.

“It’s a twig of Shaladrassil, given to me by my Shan’do before he passed on.”

“It’s from Andrassil up in the north, before it had to be destroyed. My An’do declared me its heir when I chose the path of the Branch.”

“Legend has it that it was stolen from G’hanir by one of the first druids, and it has remained hidden through the generations.”

Perhaps he was beautiful because he saved her life, despite the near-impossible chance of success. Perhaps he was beautiful because he was the only one who could pull a full bellied laugh from her, no matter how dire the circumstances. He never gave a serious answer whenever she asked where his cyclically blossoming staff was from. Each explanation only grew more ludicrous than the previous. It became a private joke between them in the millennium and a half they were together.

When the Circle returned from the first Silithus war, his staff, withered and dormant, was all that they could find of his remains. 

It took her another hundred years to learn to smile again.

It was a habit - a routine she had formed - ever since she started travelling alone. First, she removed her staff - the gnarled, dead stick, then her satchel and sickle, and finally her belt, onto which numerous pouches and containers were attached.

In the darkness of the shadows cast by the mountains and the forests, she learnt from her foster father the ways that were forbidden to her and all other women, during the few moments he found her alone on patrol and away from her various units over the years. He was already training her before she met her late husband; he continued to train her through her marriage, and he kept training her after she was widowed. Their lessons were kept away from prying eyes and ears, for nobody would ever approve. 

In the rarer times she managed to bring herself to return to the home she built after they were married, she took out her husband’s books and scrolls, and tried to learn the other craft for which he was valued by their compatriots. But she was no alchemist, and without a teacher to guide her, she learnt as any commoner did: by recipe, and by memory. 

His initials were sewn into the woven belt of ironbark. He wore it when he went to gather herbs. It hung from its hook on the wall near his laboratory table. “I won’t have the chance to forage in the desert,” he said before he left. 

Paired with the knowledge imparted to her by both him as well as her foster father about medicinal flora, she refused to let her husband’s legacy die with him, as she did her utmost to apply what she learnt, and pick up anything new.

A white ohuna flew overhead, lightly rustling the leaves as it whistled. Perhaps one of the local wildlife, or a messenger for the centaur clans. Nara’enil watched it disappear into the horizon as she hung the herbalist’s belt onto the bend of her staff, the latter secured to the branch beside her. Finally, she folded her cloak and laid her head on it as a makeshift pillow.

The stars peeked through the canopy like moonlight caught on ripples of water.

In the years that followed Nordrassil’s fall, her hair had faded into a dull grey as the navy strands were gradually replaced by white. Injuries and ailments took longer to mend. Worry and fatigue have etched themselves into increasingly noticeable lines around her eyes. 

After the orcs invaded their lands, min’do Ilisana no longer walked among them. Nara’enil’s heart broke at her failure to protect her. Shan’do Maldari wore his loss like thorns that pricked his son Meladriss so badly that he no longer spoke to his father. 

Every ache of her chest for her broken family and broken home felt as amplified as the aftermath of Veldrinath’s death. 

As she took up the mantle reluctantly given to her by the Circle, and threw herself into the frontlines of each conflict that affected their home, be it within their borders or away, Nara’enil learnt how to deal with the changes wrought from newfound mortality. Adapt or die: a lesson from ancient times. Change had become the new constant after thousands of years during the Vigil. Time had become a luxury they could no longer take for granted. 

After decades of numbing herself both in yet more learning as well as a different duty, whilst trying at the same time to find a semblance of peace in fleeting but simple moments - like the beauty of the stars in a clear night sky, and the comfort of a strong supporting tree - Nara’enil, for the first time since she learnt to adapt, felt the burden of her age. Of the tumultuous unrelenting beating her home and her kin kept continuing to take with only a pitiful couple of years of respite at most; of the tenuous ties to the only two people she had left in the world that she called her family.

After all, she was a puzzle, made from the pieces of everyone she ever knew and loved. Regardless if it was as brief as her formative years, or for as long as her lifetime, she carried them with her.  From near or far, she would protect them with her life. 

“Within this space that we have made for each other, you can say anything and I will not abandon you. Show me the worst things you have done. I will hold them with both my hands and I won’t flinch.”

Through the night, she kept watch along the ridge to the Sanctuary. The Green Flight sentries normally stationed to do so were more urgently needed in the Dream just now. Nara’enil did not mind. She always preferred solitude, especially now with the gradually swelling numbers in the Gardens.

She remained until day broke, and those who were diurnal took over once more.

[mariacallous]

hmmmm, I wonder about the wider and long term impact of Harry Potter on YA and middle grades books.

I mean hers was really the first such book to make all the money in the known universe, gain mega super unstoppable popularity, that lasted for years and years and years, everyone from age 8 to 80 read them, my grandma read them (she was a big reader and was thrilled her grandkids were reading and wanted to be able to talk to us about it) did that have the effect of focusing more punishing attention on YA? did its cross over adult appeal as well as long term cultural staying power cause more people who are adults now to feel comfortable staying in YA?

I mean, yeah, at least to a certain extent?

Plus, like with the Marvel movies (but done, to a certain extent, less blatantly, at least initially, in the HP case), there's that continued and built-in buy-in that makes you keep coming back because you have to know what happens next and you have to take advantage of the latest offering. But it was executed and done more creatively and, dare I say, enjoyably.

Plus there was the same phenomenon where it went from being kind of a niche underdog thing (you're reading a book about magic? from britain?) to this mega mainstream popular thing but a lot of people didn't accept or see how it had shifted and so it became totemic, on top of the appeal it already had (like in the Christopher Hitchens review I shared last night).

But because it hit in the right sweet spot both developmentally for a lot of people but culturally (the late 90s into early-to-mid-2000s) it took advantage of (and helped create) shifts in pop culture and media consumption (plus at one point it was the progressive/liberal option since it was targeted for promoting witchcraft and satanism by a lot of the Concerned Parents and right-wing groups, so it was able to coast on that cachet for a while). I could also argue that in a post-9/11 world there was the ongoing appeal of a relatively simple message about generic good triumphing over generic evil which cuts across age groups and ideologies and which was an element of stability - yes there are individual (sometimes lots of individual) pains and suffering but the overall arc goes to a positive result.

The thing is, YA (or books that would be considered YA) have always been popular - it's never not been a profitable genre. What HP and all that did was do, in a lot of cases, what Marvel/Disney did to movies, and sort of fundamentally reshape much of how it operates and what it promotes, and the specific type of book or book series matters less as long as it can follow the general path and rules that have been laid down.

Plus, nostalgia is also always profitable (it's why a lot of trends never go away and just get cycled back - it's one of the reasons why Barbie, to use a particular example, really kind of took off in the late 80s into the 90s, because the kids who had grown up playing with those dolls in the 60s and 70s were now old enough to both have kids of their own to introduce Barbie to but also had the money and ability to indulge themselves and start collecting) and HP has that mixture of general ("timeless" I guess could be a better word) and specific appeal which continues to carry forward in a way that other stuff doesn't.

[koffieplease]

I just finished my randomizer run, and DEAR RNG LORD WHAT DID I DO TO YOU????

I found all upgrades, but no dreamers. (And no healing, but I could compensate that with the hive blood charm, so no big deal.) I was kinda going crazy. Like, I had gone through almost the entire map, but no dreamers? None?

So I am just wandering around, and decide to go say hi to the godseeker, cause why not at this point. THERE. IN THE JUNKPIT. TWO. DREAMERS. What are you doing there, dreamers? Is your selfesteme so low?

Obviously, I started to get hope again after that, and started to actively search for progress again. And there was nothing. I fought dream warriors for 15 geo. I found hidden places I never knew off for rancid eggs. I. went. crazy.

So, since I really ran out of options except fighting the really hard late game bosses, I allowed myself to spoiler myself the location of the last dreamer, to give me something to work to. It was in the distant village. I did not have the lantern, so I could not walk through that part of deep nest.

So I looked up where the lantern was.

Unreachable.

Like totally not reachable.

Why the hell is the lantern IN the black egg???????

So my only option to progress is to find the distant village stag. And I don't trust the rng anymore. I gave myself so many kind settings - no path of pain, no grey prince, no white defender - but it had been so mean. It did not earn my trust. So I looked it up.

Do you wanna know where the only option to progress was hidden? OF ALL FRICKIN PLACES?

The last soul totem before the start of path of pain. Officially not path of pain yet, but there are already So. Many. Saws.

And as cherry on top of the cake, do you know what I found next to the last dreamer? What I found, right before I went to end the game? The last item I really found? What makes me believe the rng gods are real and don't like me?

..

Yeah, it was focus.