#Volition Chronicles

[thevolitionchronicles]

Volume One: Chapter One: Scene Nine

The friends exchange a look of nervous excitement for the approaching undertaking and Tobii shatters again into finely segmented pieces that withdraw form Calvin’s hands and re-mold themselves to his original form. All of their peers partake in the unequipping of their armaments and procession towards the exit of their environment and entrance to the next. The volume of chatter rises again to that of a fervent buzz, as individuals discuss how they intend to navigate the following event. Concurrently Tobii silently drifts away from Calvin and dims all of his flickering lights at once until he appears completely deactivated and there he remains, still and inactive. Calvin watches Tobii’s hibernation for only a mere second or so before returning his focus. After meeting with their organizer and trainer, Nathaniel, and preparing their bodies and minds, the students are now armed to combine each of these finely tuned abilities into one adrenaline-filled experience. Awaiting on the other side of the automatic gateway boasts the greatest and most expansive realm within the academy walls. 

An octagonal tunnel spaciously measuring a grand four hundred feet in diameter and easily one thousand feet in height is crowned with an intricate ceiling framed by dense scaffolding with a large skylight in its center, constructed of reinforced glass. As their footsteps echo through the arena’s seemingly endless volume, at once one million lights activate responsively as if to invite them into its enormous now-illuminated cavern. With each individual that passes the threshold of its entrance, the arena displays holographic information to reflect the individual’s statistics and data. 

Calvin’s garnet irises dart about the space, and his hand anxiously reaches towards Melody’s for momentary comfort as he enters along with the crowd surrounding them. But with hesitance, his fingers only just graze the remaining feathers on her neighboring wrist, as he considers the possibility of further disorientating her. Yet, noticing the warmth of his brush, she glances to him once more and nods to him reassuringly. As the arena displays their information, a green light approximately palm-sized brightens on the center chest of their uniforms, an indicator of their status concerning the circumstance. 

The perpendicular walls connected to their open platform house glass screens that are lit with brief instructions and various selectable rectangles. Convening with one of these small, docked computers, Melody taps an item which then opens up a new menu of options and images on the panel, which she quickly scrolls through by stroking her finger along the screen before spotting an image of her exact plasma shooting handgun previously utilized in the shooting range. She selects it abruptly, and the machine makes a quiet whirring sound, before opening a compartment that offers the weapon before her. Yet this gun now being grasped hurriedly by her eager fingers, is not the same as the one she held moments before. Though the grip feels entirely as solid and heavy as the one before, visually the pistol appears different as its surface is accompanied by fine lines and seams that subtly flicker and glow. Beyond that, its nature is entirely different than the original it replicates. Likewise Calvin presently brandishes his own replications of his Tobii-formed Gauntlets, equally littered with elusive, strange contours of light.

Together, they turn to face the long expansion of open flight space, consisting of hundreds of feet above and below their present altitude. The other challengers have already begun soaring through the training arena, brandishing their own mock arsenal. As they  implement their attacks, their artificial armaments emit glowing blasts of mimicked plasma that, when reaching their targets, cause a flash of scattered particles and lights and a brief holographic display, accounting for the virtual defeats and victories.

“On three?” Calvin asks. Melody’s gaze meets his and her eyes are vibrant with ferocity. She can feel her body responding to the anticipation of conflict, her heart beating faster than it has all day, feathers ears drawn back and raised, listening to her surroundings carefully.

[smashorpassgilf]

The Vampire Armand

[sapphopringles]

//XC1 Spoiler talk//

I havent played XC2 or 3 (yet) so this could end up being not entirely canon accurate based on future games but just keep in mind this is thoughts based exclusively off XC1 DE

Ever since i finished xenoblade de on my switch (currently playing epilogue) ive been going Insane over the implications of the strength of Alvis

Based on my understanding of the ending, Monolith Soft fucking found a way to establish a character within canon whose powers trancend the limitations of fiction and into the very fabric of reality as real life humans percieve it

Like, the world of the bionis and mechonis being the result of the recreation of the big bang in the scifi future real life actual universe caused by computer alvis under the command of zanza and meyneth resulting in the laws of reality being reborn and rewritten as such so that alvis' mechanical capability to recreate the big bang with exact precision on the outcome is manifested as a physical being thus creating a god only surpassed by the biblical christian god (who himself is only like "most powerful" cus the propagandaization of dieties requires yours to be better than everyone elses in every concievable way to assert dominance)

Basically, it is impossible for Alvis Xenoblade 1 to lose a fight against any fictional character without severely altering the very basis of his being due to the core of his existence being the physical manifestation of a being capable of rewriting the fabric of reality that also can just see into the future seemingly without limit

The alvis vs goku death battle is the epitome of hydrogen bomb vs coughing baby with goku as the baby and im going insane

I want this fucking twink obliterated

[crumpet099]

I come to tumblr with a new interest,, Find it here!!

[autism-disco]

im back at the FUCKING MODULATION AGAIN

[dlandofdreams]

Don’t mind me, just going through and reblogging all of my sister’s art that I missed lol

[theguywithaplan]

List of Video Games turning ten (10) years old in 2025

Alone in the Dark: Illumination (if you thought the AitD game from last year was bad, check this shit out).

Angry Birds 2 (yes, there was a 2).

Animal Crossing: Happy Home Designer

Animal Crossing: Amiibo Festival (two AC games from 2015 and neither of them were what people wanted).

Assassin's Creed Syndicate (the Bri'ish one).

Atelier Shallie

Axiom Verge

Batman: Arkham Knight

Battlefield: Hardline (the last game from Visceral Games, the guys who made the Dead Space series).

The Beginner's Guide (the second game from the creator of The Stanley Parable).

Bloodborne (anything for the 10th anniver-- no. Never gonna happen).

Broken Age

Call of Duty: Black Ops III

Chibi-Robo! Zip Lash

Cities: Skylines

Crypt of the NecroDancer

Devil's Third (one of the rarest Wii U games ever).

Disgaea 5: Alliance of Vengeance

Disney Infinity 3.0

Dragon Ball XenoVerse (the first one. not the second).

Dying Light

Evolve (these guys would go on to make Back 4 Blood).

Fallout 4

Fatal Frame: Maiden of Black Water

Final Fantasy Type-0 HD

Game of Thrones (the Telltale game)

Guitar Hero Live

Halo 5: Guardians

Hatred (a game so edgy and terrible that it got itself kicked off of Steam).

Helldivers (the first one).

Heroes of the Storm (the Blizzard MOBA).

Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number

HuniePop (for all you pervs out there).

I Am Bread

Just Cause 3

Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes (the quintessential VR game)

Kerbal Space Program

Kirby and the Rainbow Curse (one of the few Wii U games that hasn't been ported to the Switch. And probably never will be).

The Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel

The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask 3D

The Legend of Zelda: Tri Force Heroes

Lego Dimensions (a crossover game with about a billion different franchises).

Lego Jurassic World

Life is Strange (controversial opinion: I sacrificed Chloe and felt nothing).

Mario Party 10 (the only MP on the Wii U)

Mario Tennis: Ultra Smash

Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain

Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate (back when the 3DS was single-handedly keeping MH alive)

Mortal Kombat X

Need for Speed (the reboot)

The Order: 1886

Ori and the Blind Forest

Pillars of Eternity

Pokemon Super Mystery Dungeon

Prison Architect

Rainbow Six: Siege

Rare Replay

Resident Evil: Revelations 2

Rise of the Tomb Raider

Rock Band 4

Rocket League

Saints Row: Gat Out of Hell (RIP Volition. You were too good for the modern day).

Shadowrun: Hong Kong

Skylanders: SuperChargers

Soma (the best horror game ever made. Play it if you haven't yet).

Splatoon

Star Wars: Battlefront (the EA reboot).

StarCraft II: Legacy of the Void (RIP StarCraft. You were too good for modern day Blizzard).

Steven Universe: Attack the Light!

Story of Seasons (the very fight one)

Super Mario Maker

Tales from the Borderlands (the best thing that Telltale EVER made).

Tales of Zestiria

Tembo the Badass Elephant (published by Sega and developed by Game Freak... the Pokemon guys).

Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 5

Total War: Attila

Transformers: Devastation (RIP PlatinumGames. You... kinda started sucking after Astral Chain).

Undertale (yep, it's happening).

Until Dawn

Warhammer: End Times - Vermintide

The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt (just in time for the 4th game)

Wolfenstein: The Old Blood (remember, kids: Nazi lives don't matter).

Xenoblade Chronicles X (finally escaping the Wii U this year).

Yakuza 5

Yo-Kai Watch

Yoshi's Woolly World

[mightydyke]

The way that Paul Shapera presents love in The Puppetshade Chronicles, specifically the second album, is so fascinating to me.

You have Jes, who declares "love is perfect, love is all" before shooting the girl she loves at the end of the first album, claiming it's the only way to prevent Jenna suffering and betraying her. At the end of the second album, she kills Molly after finding out that she wasn't tortured into betraying her but actually wanted to abolish the monarchy of her own volition. Jes claims "now the girl I love is gone". To me, it seems like Jes has such an idealised view of love that anything that doesn't live up to her perfect expectations must be eradicated. It fits with her character, being a princess who's used to getting what she wants and views anything inconvenient to her as unacceptable. But before she kills Molly, she hesitates and changes her mind multiple times, almost like her view of love is shattering as she realises that it isn't perfect, that it doesn't guarante that there will be no conflict between people who love each other.

This is even more interesting compared to Paisley Piper's view of love. She thinks that love is painful and maddening. She says that love can be sweet, but ultimately it will entice you and drive you crazy. And yet at the end of the album she decides to go and rescue her love. Entirely the opposite to Jes, she acknowledges the pain caused by love and how it's far from perfect, but decides to help the person she loves.

Then you have Oki, who seems entirely dissilusioned with love (and every aspect of existence), saying that his friend Jeza said "love was just a fleeting treat, illusion to me now." He's clearly been caused a lot of pain by love and is definitely going through a sadistic phase, but seems to genuinely love the other Puppetshades.

And all this just makes me wonder how Jenna, L3X and Yery will think of love now. Jenna has been betrayed by a person who claimed to love her, L3X loves Jenna but her love makes him feel guilty, Yery has had the person he loved most killed. They've all seen people they love murdered. And then there's Cobalt Rose, who can almost be seen as a metaphor for how people who are loves live on in the memories of those who loved them. I think love is such a fascinating driving force and motivation behind this story and I can't wait to see how this theme develops.

[davos-allyrion]

𓆩♕𓆪 MUST I BOW? 𓆩♕𓆪

(Starter with @theprincessofd0rne, after Davos' absence from the Dornish council, rumors surrounding him resurface, prompting the princess to ask on her own volition.)

To Her Grace, Aliandra Martell, Princess of Dorne,

It is said that the sun sees all, yet it seems the shadows cast by its light are more fertile ground for tales than truth. The rumors that reach your ears about my dealings at Godsgrace are as colorful as the sands of the Red Mountains, though less reliable than the shifting dunes. Still, it would be poor form to dismiss a royal inquiry without due care, and so I will offer you the clarity you seek.

First, let us dispense with the idea that Godsgrace remains peaceful through any sinister design of mine. If peace is sustained here, it is because I rule with the same principle that you guide Dorne: a steady course, bending only where wisdom demands. Men whisper of disappearances, of vanished enemies—but those enemies would be better served accounting for their own missteps, for I have neither the time nor inclination to murder every fool who raises his voice against me. If I was to dedicate myself to such endeavors, I imagine the halls of Godsgrace would be far emptier than they are.

As for rituals and forgotten gods—well, I do not deny that I disappear from time to time. But my absence is not for the purpose of cloaked rites or blood sacrifices. There are matters that require my hand, and there are questions that cannot be answered within the confines of a lord’s hall. If I wander, it is in search of knowledge and allies, not spirits and curses. Dorne has its share of forgotten gods, true enough, but I have yet to find one worth kneeling to—or one whose favor could do more for me than my own family and wits.

It amuses me, I confess, that these rumors have found their way to you. Your family has long been the architects of Dornish identity, shaping the desert’s story with skill unmatched by any chronicler. Yet even the most storied legacy is not without fault, and my opinion of the Martells remains unchanged. You opened Dorne to the dragons and bent the knee to their fire, forging peace at a cost I would not have paid. I do not hold this against you personally, Princess Aliandra, but I will not deny that I rule my corner of Dorne with less reverence for the decisions of your ancestors than some might prefer.

Nonetheless, I respect you as a ruler. Sunspear remains the heart of our land, and it beats strongly under your hand. If I was not confident in your leadership, I might not bother responding at all. But know this: while I keep my distance, it is not from disrespect, but preference. The council chambers of Sunspear do not interest me nearly as much as the lands I must govern and the people I must protect. If that means sending Nymeria or Kierra in my stead, it is because I trust them to represent me well, not because I scorn the Martell throne.

If there is aught else you would know, you need only send word. Godsgrace stands as it always has: unshaken by the whispers of cowards. Should those whispers ever grow into something more, you may rest assured I will meet them with the strength of my name and my house.

May the sun shine kindly upon you, and may the sands remember your rule fondly.

Davos Allyrion,

Lord of Godsgrace.

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by David Harsanyi

The reaction to the rescue of four Israeli hostages from Gaza is a microcosm of the past 70 years of this conflict. Every time Palestinians pay the price for acting out in some horrific, irrational, self-destructive, violent way, their defenders want to rewind history to a more convenient moment — this time to Oct. 6, 2023.

Sorry, that’s not how life works. Hamas, the chosen political entity of Gaza — the overwhelming choice of Palestinian civilians, in fact — launched this round of the conflict by massacring, sexually torturing, and kidnapping Israelis whose only sin was attending a music festival. Palestinians took hundreds of these hostages back to the Gaza Strip — a place Arabs have political autonomy over for nearly 20 years — and held them in the middle of densely populated areas hoping to dissuade Israel from liberating them, or, if it did, to create as many martyrs as possible.

Critics of Israel now ask the usual dishonest question: Are four lives worth the alleged 200-plus Arabs that were lost rescuing them?

Israel is the only nation on earth that is tasked with protecting its own people and its enemies. Every innocent lost life is, of course, a tragedy. But if you don’t want to be placed in harm’s way, don’t hold hostages in your homes and neighborhoods, and don’t cheer and support a government that puts your life in constant danger for a lost cause. This is the reality of the world.

Now, if reports are correct, Hamas — and perhaps “civilians” (it’s difficult to tell because terrorists are often dressed as noncombatants) — opened fire on the rescuers. The Israelis, who do not indiscriminately target civilians, fired back, as they should. Whatever the specifics, every lost life is Hamas’ fault.

But, as always, it also needs to be stressed that the casualty numbers that are endlessly repeated by the establishment media are fiction��— as everyone in those newsrooms is surely aware. So, we must assume outlets like The Washington Post and CNN — which also detestably contends that the hostages had been “released” — are fellow travelers. One BBC interviewer even asked an IDF spokesman if Israel had warned Palestinians of their sting operation.

Then again, even if there were over 200 dead, it is also surely the case that many of the dead were members of Hamas or holding hostages of their own volition or helping those holding hostages. Avoid doing so if you value your life.

The “Health Ministry” makes no distinction between terrorists and civilians, and in this case there might be little difference. Among those holding the Israelis hostage in their homes in Nuseirat, for instance, were a “journalist” (who apparently worked for Al Jazeera and the U.S.-based Palestine Chronicle, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit) and a “doctor.” The entire neighborhood was ostensibly under UN control. We already know that UN workers had likely participated in the Oct. 7 kidnappings and UNRWA schools are used by Hamas bases of operation.

Even now, there’s a (terrible) ceasefire deal on the table being pushed by Joe Biden (still chumming for antisemitic votes) that Hamas continues to reject. Would we not expect the United States to act the same way as Israel if some homicidal cult had our people?

In the end, of course, this could all end today if the hostages were returned and Hamas would unconditionally surrender. Israel haters, who fashion themselves peaceniks, will blame everyone — Netanyahu, Biden, colonialism, racism, etc., etc. — but the Islamists who are the cause of this war.

Then again, the entire conflict could end if the Palestinians would stop turning to nihilistic theocrats to lead them and accept Israel’s existence.  

[teadari]

💮 Wind of Time 💮

In the silence of the garden alleys of the Kuchiki Clan, the sounds of an invisible world lingered, where the gentle rustling of leaves mingled with the elusive songs of distant birds. All of this resembled the whisper of time sliding between the branches of the cherry trees, standing like guardians of impassive tranquility. Here, in this abode of serenity, where time itself seemed to stand still, an ordinary person might glimpse only the beauty of the visible world.

He walked along the paths of this green temple of contemplation, as if each grain of sand beneath his feet could reveal the deepest truth. In certain moments, it felt as if the sighs of the wind whispered secrets to him about how one should live in harmony with oneself and the world around. Here, in these green retreats of nature, a weary soul could find peace and the opportunity to hear melodies previously unheard.

Everything seemed to begin with the whims of fate when, in a garden shrouded in a mute silence like a gentle captivity, Ohiko appeared — a young and unremarkable maiden, but of noble birth. She came as a guest, but certainly not of her own volition; she was compelled by her vassal relatives to cement a family alliance with the esteemed Kuchiki clan. But, truly, how restless she was, that Ohiko! In her heart, anxieties and uncertainties galloped like unbridled horses, searching for a place to settle.

She found herself in the garden as if guided by an unseen hand, to a place where no words from the clan's servants or even Byakuya himself could compare. Yes, how often it happens that an invisible foot leads one to those corners of solitude where a weary soul seeks to breathe its own air, to ponder its secret concerns, removing from view the bustling distractions of the world!

Thus, she arrived in those meadows, filled with seductive blooming cherry blossoms, where Byakuya himself, the authoritative lord of the clan, was accustomed to spend his time in passionate contemplation. It became difficult for her—whether it was an inevitable meeting or whether destiny would sing a song for them. And is this union of worlds not a chance occurrence, preordained by the spirits of the squirrels? Yes, sometimes fate is unpredictable and whimsical, like the most intricate arabesque on the silk of Japanese elegance, where every curve and twist has meaning, but not always what we expect.

When their gazes crossed for the first time, Byakuya felt something so extraordinary that even the ancient clan chronicles did not describe such a thing. It was not a romantic infatuation, nor an instant spark of emotions, so praised in ancient epics—no, it was more akin to an interest, like a riddle that longs to be solved. The sensation was similar to seeing a sun dimmed in the shadows suddenly appear through a rift in the thick clouds.

An elusive strength and remarkable calm shimmered in her eyes. These qualities, which sharply distinguished her from everyone he was accustomed to seeing in his surroundings, made him contemplate how the layers of the mundane world could suddenly become transparent, revealing a hidden realm that lay behind ordinary everyday life. For in her gaze, he sensed not just power—but a depth that enticed with both clarity and inaccessibility, like an eternal labyrinth.

Of course, when Ohiko first found herself in an environment so far removed from the familiar, her behavior showed a certain awkwardness. Here she stood amidst centuries-worn stones and cherry blossom canopies, and a blush, reminiscent of the morning sky, swept across her cheeks. There was both a charming shyness and a timidity, natural for a soul that, like a forest creature, had suddenly found itself in the open.

And Byakuya... ah, of course, Byakuya! His sharpness and coldness, which a contemporary might call "thoughtful detachment," consistently earned him ascetic glory, akin to an inaccessible peak hidden behind clouds. As if the ocean itself had lifted a stone and made it into his heart—such was he. It fell upon Ohiko now to undertake this extraordinary task: to crack the cold that enveloped him like a shell and to penetrate within. Yet this was no easy task, for a stone in the sea cannot be worn away by an instant stream, even if it is filled with the warmest intentions. But isn’t life about overcoming the impossible, striving to enter places where a rational person wouldn’t even dream of going?

Every evening, seated in the solitude of her chamber, Ohiko often fell into deep thought, and with those thoughts came nights full of silence and invisible tears. Such was her fate: to ponder whether she could penetrate this unyielding bastion that Byakuya had erected around his soul, to comprehend something that was entirely unrelated to his past loss. She knew—and that knowledge cost her dearly—that his memory still clung tightly to the image of his departed wife, which echoed in his heart with a long and sorrowful melody, like the evening reflection on water.

But doesn’t the world change with time? And don’t the cherry blossom petals fall, promising life a new spring? Ohiko understood—or tried to convince herself of this—that one cannot remain a prisoner of the past forever; grief, no matter how great, should not bind one eternally in its dark chains. Life demands forward movement, so that its flow does not stagnate, along with the very possibility of happiness. In each day, one can find something that reminds us of those we loved, whose past love once warmed us. In every day, every morning promises new ascents for the heart destined to move forward, leaving behind an enduring yet still bright sadness.

Over time, Byakuya began to notice changes within his own soul. The images of Hisana, his first wife, which had always stood before his inner vision, did not disappear, but they started to take on new shapes, as if a thick fog had parted, allowing him to see the expansive mysteries beyond. These shapes seemed to intertwine with the unseen presence of Ohiko, like the finest embroidery against the backdrop of ancient fabric, bringing new shades to where only mournful sorrow had reigned before.

Now he understood that Ohiko, with her calm presence, like the gentle surface of a nighttime lake, had been able to bring a harmony to his life that he had not experienced with anyone he had met before. Her steadiness, her tenderness, slowly and unobtrusively began to displace the dark clouds of despair that had shrouded his heart. This tranquility, granted to him through her, became an unexplored source of comfort that he had previously forbidden himself, like a prisoner who personally holds the hostile key to his own chains.

And now, the ambiguous troublemaker, finding a quiet joy within himself, understood that one cannot remain forever on the shores of pain—life always demands movement, it requires one to release the anchor of sadness and set sail upon the waves of destiny, for every loss only more clearly emphasizes the generosity that life offers us; it asks us not to stand silently but to move on, to keep going.

For a person like Byakuya, love could not manifest as a sudden revelation. No, it arrived like the relentless change of seasons, when winged spring, with complete calm and dignity, takes its rightful place after the harsh winter, gently wrapping the cold slopes in warm breath and awakening dormant life. In that moment, as Byakuya stood under the gracious shade of the blooming cherry tree, watching the sparkling petals sway in the dance of a gentle breeze, an unfamiliar thought flickered in his heart: could he conceive of his existence without her quiet yet undeniably warming presence?

And this realization, like a stream breaking through icy concrete barriers, increasingly permeated his thoughts and feelings each day. Deep within him, changes began to take root, quietly rustling in the depths of his soul, akin to the unpredictable whirlwinds that bring shifts in the fates of people. And so, without even noticing it, he became a prisoner of this new, still unfamiliar yet deeply desired sensation.

In this way, through patience, through silent persistence and quiet strength, akin to a sprout breaking through solid rock, their love was born. It was not a flash, not the fierce flame that swiftly consumes everything around it and then, extinguished, leaves only ash. No, their feeling was something greater than just a replacement for what was lost—it was a new chapter penned by fate itself in the book of their lives, a chapter about waiting, hope, and the gentle promise of spring where snow once lay.

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

Ohiko, his new companion, carried a light aura of serenity and freedom in her manners and actions, making it seem as if nature herself, emerging from the warm tenderness of spring, had entered this house. This woman, with her indescribable charm, came to him like the morning light filtering into a dark room: first barely perceptible and timid, but with each ray becoming more confident, inevitably spreading and warming the walls and corners.

For Byakuya, a man weary of strict conventions and the weight of memories of lost love, this change was both unexpected and necessary: he often started at his own thoughts about the fact that somewhere deep in his heart, there remained a place untouched by cold, a place capable of feeling warmth once more.

And so it happened: on that day, when he slowly approached her—the one who, beneath her outward gentleness, carried the strength to live unbound—she, with simplicity and sincerity, took his hand. In that action, like the incense of an ancient temple, there was not a trace of arrogance or temptation. That simple gesture reminded him that life is not solely about the rigid order of habits or the prolonged silence of solitude, but also about a quiet wisdom, capable of warming even the places where ice once reigned.

Through this gentle connection of their fingers, a new spark ignited within Byakuya's heart—a spark of that yearning, long forgotten, which once filled his chest: the desire to be truly alive, not just to exist in the shadow of the past.

Ah, how strange and unexpected it is when a heart, bound in the chains of an eternal winter, suddenly finds warmth in another — so different, yet no less significant a soul! It seems as though fate itself, with an indescribable gentleness, ushered Ohiko into his life, like a breeze carrying the fragrance of spring plants to a forgotten corner of the world. Almost imperceptibly — yes, but also inevitably, like the cyclical change of seasons that occurs without fail.

Byakuya required more than a single fleeting moment, more than a passing reflection, to accept this new intrusion into his soul; to believe that it was possible, so effortlessly yet profoundly, to surrender to emotions that had long been buried under the heavy veil of time and memory.

"You know," he began, and in that moment, his voice grew softer, taking on the kind of quiet warmth that a glowing hearth brings to a cold night. "I never imagined I could find someone so meaningful to me again."

At this simple admission, Ohiko responded with nothing but a gentle, yet firm, squeeze of his hand. Her eyes—mirrors reflecting intentions and thoughts—were filled with understanding and acceptance. Under her gaze, Byakuya, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, realized he could allow himself the rare luxury of simply being himself—a man capable not only of feeling love but of giving it as well.

Ah, the inevitable and relentless winds of change! How often they come, not as a sudden tempest, but as a slow, unseen current, reshaping lives without notice. And so, within these changes, Byakuya Kuchiki came to the quiet realization that the isolated island he had been for so long was now becoming part of something greater.

₊˚✿𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･𑁍ࠬܓ𑁍ࠬܓ𑁍ࠬܓ₊˚✿𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･₊˚✿𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

[thevolitionchronicles]

Volume One: Chapter One: Scene Eight

Their path leads to a row of individual simulated accuracy training stations, reminiscent of Earth's more traditional shooting ranges, enhanced with streamlined digital consoles and more contemporary means. Melody’s hand darts to a front pocket on the breast of her uniform, containing compact wireless earbuds that she holds in her palm before her as she stops in front of an unoccupied unit. 

Beside her, Calvin is one step ahead, his earbuds already equipped, now flexing his empty hands for a moment, loosening his individual joints. Tobii hovers mere inches from his fingers, especially still with engrossment before quietly releasing a small squeak imitating eagerness. His fingers dance for a moment longer, ensuring any momentary stiffness is entirely released and his dexterity is at its peak.

“You ready buddy?” He provokes Tobii, whose many lights begin to flash and flicker more rapidly. “, Acifelan!” This singular word command elicits an immediate transformation in Tobii, who abruptly expands into numerous levitating fragments. 

This momentary explosion exposes even more components often hidden inside his standard spherical form. More lights, finely detailed metal parts, intricate connections, and hardware elements unveil, like the bursting of a spectacular geode. With unnatural precision, every piece rearranges itself and then neatly links to another, a recomposition achieved solely through clever engineering and design. The result is metal gauntlets fitted around Calvin’s hands elegantly, the appearance of which is large and sturdy, powerful and bulky. 

His metal fingers articulating individually, Calvin’s posture straightens with renewed confidence. Along the knuckles of his gloves of steel, Tobii’s emotive row of lights are still visible, and flashing with activity, meanwhile, Melody deactivates the safety on her sidearm, cocks it and takes aim. Her form is neat, measured with equal distribution of effort toward both 

Her heart quickens in her chest, and her fingers tighten their grasp on the grip and locate the trigger. The steadiness of her grasp and cool concentration of her gaze allude to skillfulness and experience, but the coiling knots of tension in her abdomen imply another tale. Despite having two feet flush with the floor, a strange sensation takes hold of Melody. The room turns and tilts as if suspended boiyantly on the surface of a turbulent ocean. Teeth gritting together, she clenches clarity, swallows down reluctance and grants the trigger a firm press. The shock reverberation of the resulting plasma blast jolts up Melody’s taught arms and shoulders, but auditory feedback is barely perceptible as her ear inserts dampen it’s volume, only permitting a soft hollow thump not unlike a light tap to a huge and resonant canvas drum or the pounding of her own pulse. A bolt of cyan light launches and slices through the holographic target directly ahead of Melody’s line of sight, and the visage erupts in glistening illusionary particles and artificial sparks. Above the floating target, a short summary of information is generated, including numbers, and statistics, precisely expressing her recorded accuracy and effectiveness. The stiffness of her mandible relaxes fractionally at the reflected estimations. 94.6% Accurate. 82.7% Effective Form. 76.5% Fatal Injury. 

 To the unfamiliar observer, these numbers express very little, but to Melody, they reaffirm what she has witnessed over years of hard work, a gradual but consistent improvement in her marksmanship. She just as easily recalls when these same training simulations reflected numbers under fifty percent, and the sense of humility and disappointment that rendered her. Nevertheless, the resounding emotion that rises to the surface of her turbulent mind is not so much pride, but relief. Perhaps the difference between fifty percent and ninety-four percent will be significant to her someday, when the numbers will truly apply to situations that matter. 

Adjacently, Calvin raises one of his gauntlets and aligns his clenched knuckles with his own target, before closing the fist of his right hand with his thumb, initiating a blazing explosive orange blast from his right middle finger that subsequently obliterates it’s destination. Rather than grinning with confidence, his expression remains focused, cautious and studious as he observes the statistics presented. 75% Accurate. 68% Effective Form. 52% Fatal Injury. If these estimations are to upset him, Calvin’s face gives nothing away to indicate that. Not unlike a player invested in a challenging but uninteresting level of a game they’ve completed more than once, his eyes appear almost glazed over. The Neutrality of his blank stare reminds Melody of his priorities, and ambivalence to this particular element of training. 

“Not bad Cal,” She comments quietly. Despite his disinterest, he takes in a quick breath and then affords her a reassuring smile back.

“Getting better every day,” He agrees. Though the room is alight various weapons firing off, an energy throughout the space is meditative, with the majority of cadets so engrossed in the quality of their every shot that very little words are exchanged. With each attack delivered, the trainees carefully and intentionally make adjustments, continually placing effort on improvement. The caution and deliberation given to the activity is not unlike that of a serious test, with an impactful grade. Just as Melody tucks a loose lock of dark silken hair behind her ear, and Calvin prepares to fire one more blast, a beeping sound emanates off the walls of the shooting range simulation, acknowledging the end of this portion. 

[mocsbylexan]

Krama, Toa of Twilight

teachings_draft_1.crn //: LOAD NEXT PASSAGE

Eighth lesson: To hone your inner light, you must accept your inner shadow. To control your inner shadow, you must remember your inner light.

log_231.de //: RESUME PLAYBACK

T: What are you looking over there for? V: I'm… reading what you wrote. The beginning of it anyways. T: By all means. I could use an editor I think. V: … T: … V: … Few regrets, hm? T: Few. Not none. V: … How is Krama doing, turaga? T: I… believe he is improving. Slowly. Did you get any results back from the Ghosts on his protodermis sample? V: Nothing that's useful. All they can say is that he has less light left than the others. They haven't figured out how much yet. T: As if we didn't know that already. V: How exactly is he improving? Is his mental state more stable? T: Like I said, slowly. I think the new thoughts he's been dealing with since the procedure frighten him. But it's hard to tell with the way he expresses his emotions being so muted now. V: And his elemental powers? Has he regained some control of them? T: No. V: … T: … V: Is that thing you were telling me about with his mask still happening? T: Yes… It's strange. We focus on practicing his kanohi use most of the time because I think it's grounding for him. To still have at least one toa-like thing he can do. But the things he can do with that mask… V: You've worked with the first Toa Nuva, aren't you accustomed to strong kanohi powers? T: Even Artahka's kanohi Nuva don't match the level of power that that toa seems to be able to draw forth from a simple great mask. V: … Turaga, that kind of power with a Komau- T: I know. Sometimes I fear it will become dangerous enough that he'll turn away from even this in fear of what he might be capable of. V: Maybe we should get him a different mask to use. Something more positive. T: I've tried that. It doesn't even work with a different Komau. It has to be the one he's worn all his life. V: Really? Why? T: … I don't know. I've examined the mask in and out and it's unchanged. It's just a normal kanohi. V: … T: … V: The others worry about him, Turaga. T: I know. V: They try not to show it, but I can tell. They… they were expecting him to lead them. T: He did. He led them in his bravery, in being the first to undergo our… V: Our experiment. T: … V: Turaga, the future students that you're writing this chronicle for… do you plan to have them all drain some of their light? Once we're sure the process is perfected? T: … No, I think not. For certain we've seen that the procedure grants great power… V: … Control over two elements alone is incredible, let alone two of the most powerful… T: Yes, but to change oneself in such a way… I do not intend to push that upon anyone. The students may come and they may learn our ways, just as you learned them from me. There's no need for them to undergo such a drastic change. Unless they… seek to make such a sacrifice of their own volition, and with an understanding of what it means. V: Like these ones did. T: Yes. These students are… a very special team. I am not sure I can ever be grateful enough to their commitment to this project, even knowing what they risked. V: They did gain great power, turaga. T: And a heavy burden of duty. You know that. V: Yes. T: … V: … I should go to bed. Training will be hard tomorrow. T: As always. V: Yes. T: Goodnight, Viama. V: Goodnight, Turaga Tanma.

log_231.de //: CLOSE teachings_draft_1.crn //: CLOSE LOGOUT

[kentuckycaverats]

edinburgh chronicle update!! in which del bleeds sunlight and the coterie takes on petaniqua

tw: self-harm

it's the coterie (del, mitra, sami, bene) + tara (del's fiance) + justicar lucinde and a couple other allies vs. petaniqua and four (4) black spiral dancers. we're in petaniqua's domain, deep belowground in some old mining tunnels. lucinde's on petaniqua, everyone else on the BSDs, and del's covering tara while she finishes a ritual to destroy petaniqua's last remaining font of power

petaniqua evades lucinde by setting her aflame, drops a knife at del's feet, and does some baali shit to command del to carve her fae True Name into her own flesh. she outrolls del, who watches in horror as her hands move against her will to begin carving aelsidhe (her estranged fae soul)'s name into her forearm. she can't take any other actions until this is finished

mitra uses horrid reality (chimerstry) to craft an illusion that everyone can see but is only materially real to petaniqua: where del's vitae flows from her wounds it spills not as blood, but sunlight. and petaniqua burns

del finishes her carving and, free to act of her own volition again, amputates that arm at the elbow and kicks the discarded limb into the flames so petaniqua can't have it

the rest of the coterie and allies take out the BSDs and sami creates an opening for lucinde to grapple petaniqua. del gets a scorpionated blood (blood sorcery) + sunlight illusion double whammy in on petaniqua. we need to stake her but she's ritually protected against staking. hm. good thing mitra's got horrid reality <3 his illusion isnt a real stake, but it's real to petaniqua, and that's all it takes. he stakes her, she's paralyzed, and del gets to give petaniqua her final message:

before we send you off to whatever tar pit a slug like you spends the rest of eternity rotting in, just wanna make sure you know that the moment this became inevitable was the night you let your stupid fucking dog murder my sister. all your thousands of years haunting this miserable earth, and for what? to be brought down by a handful of neonates for one mortal teenager. fuck you.

lucinde hands her an arcane dagger enchanted for just this purpose, and del plunges it through petaniqua's eye and into her brain. she screams and shrieks and thrashes as del make scrambled eggs of her brain, then dissolves into a mountain of ash

it's over. after 27 years, it's over.

except it isn't.

petaniqua didn't need to see del's true name. it was the knife she made del use to carve it. petaniqua's master, the demon foebok, wyrm of fear, has it. and with it he now knows where to find aelsidhe

countdown to the final battle begins.

[virginiaisforvampires]

Hi, love your blog! I am going to apologize for this rambling ask in advance because it's a lot lol. I only read the first three books so I'm not familiar with the last ones. I don't have much time to read anymore (though I might if I didn't spend so much time on your blog, but anywho...) I was wanting to read the last three books for the Loustat content. However, I recently saw a blog stating that readers are looking way too much into the Loustat relationship because it just isn't as big a deal in the books so viewers shouldn't be surprised if it's not a big deal in the show after a few seasons. They said that other bloggers often post book quotes that are out of context making Lestat and Louis' relationship look more profound than it actually is. For example, the blog was saying:

1. Lestat only wants Louis with him in the end because he is possessed and whoever is possessing Lestat is really who wants Louis so it is debatable that Lestat wants louis of his own volition.

2. After Louis does come to court, Lestat pawns him off on others because he is bored with Louis but Louis is okay with it and prefers being with other vampires? Louis supposedly even tells Lestat prior to going to court that he will go but he warns Lestat that he will hate him when Lestat gets tired of him and wants him to leave?

3. They also mentioned that Lestat isn't all that effected by Louis' kidnapping and the concern he does show is because David and Gabrielle are also kidnapped along with Louis?

4. Armand even accuses Lestat of never truly loving Louis and Lestat doesn't deny that accusation?

I know this is a lot of questions that probably makes for a very long response, but is there truth to these claims? It just seemed so out of left field because I know some bloggers that know these books well would not be saying Loustat is endgame if it wasn't so! I understand that the books are more about the adventures and aren't intended to be romance novels per se. I also know a lot of the relationship is subtext. However, this blog made me disappointed because I only wanted to read the last books solely for the Loustat content and the relationship element is what I liked best about the show...

Thank you 🙏

Hi! ❤️

It’s all good! I actually love getting longer asks, because it gives me a chance to passionately ramble about these vampires. 😁 So first of all, I couldn’t help laughing when you said that other blog thinks we post book quotes “out of context.” If anyone follows me, they know context is a big deal to me. Any Loustat moments I post are always exactly as I say they are. The relationship is profound. Louis is everything to Lestat, and that is made abundantly clear throughout all the books despite the fact a lot of their intimacy is protected by Lestat, because “he” is the one writing these books after all. Secondly, and I’m not surprised they’re ignoring this since they apparently also ignore literal book canon, every single individual involved with the show has confirmed the show will center around Loustat, because Loustat is the heart of the Chronicles. Sam, Jacob, Rolin, Mark Johnson, etc. have all confirmed this. If anything, the show will actually give even more Loustat content than the books, because these two are home to each other. If that blog has deluded themselves into thinking the relationship isn’t a big deal, they might want to just stop watching now. Or perhaps maybe actually read the books? 😬

Now to answer those examples….

1. When I first read this, I was like possessed? Huh? Then I realized they meant Amel. 🤣 So, Lestat is not possessed. Amel is a spirit, and Lestat’s body hosts him, but Lestat’s own mind is still very much separate and in tact apart from Amel. Amel starts growing in strength to the point he can start minutely controlling Lestat’s body, but at no point is Lestat “possessed” by him or not of sound mind. Lestat wants Louis for the same reason he’s always wanted Louis, just like in all the books before he became “possessed” by Amel — he loves Louis. It’s that simple.

2. Lestat does not pawn him off on others. Louis is constantly with Lestat during the Amel ordeal in Prince Lestat And The Realms Of Atlantis, and he’s constantly at Lestat’s side in Blood Communion until a certain event. (I’ll get to that.) Louis isn’t much for the courtly proceedings, and he does have other friends, but he’s not pawned off at all. Lestat actually seeks him out when he’s with others at the Château. Also, in Blood Communion, Lestat meets Dmitri Fontayne in New Orleans after he goes there when a group of rogue vampires break into his home and destroy one of Louis’ favorite paintings. Yes, Lestat is mad, because they upset Louis over a painting. Anyways, he wants Fontayne to meet Louis since they both love books and the same authors and both share a love of art and history. Lestat mentions he wants to tell Fontayne all about Louis and that he knew Louis would love him. The thing about Louis saying he’d hate Lestat was in reference to Louis never understanding why Lestat always wanted him or loved him. He meant he thought Lestat would eventually get tired of him, but that was never going to happen. Both Louis and Lestat feel they are not good enough for each other and both are continually amazed that the other loves them.

3. David isn’t kidnapped. You want to know Lestat’s reaction about David during the kidnapping ordeal?

He totally forgot about him. Rhoshamandes takes Gabrielle, Louis, and Marius. Lestat’s mother, Lestat’s husband, and Lestat’s mentor. Why does he abduct those three in particular? He wants to hurt Lestat, and he knows these three are the most important people to him. Lestat’s reaction to Louis being abducted? He literally shuts down. He’s upset when Gabrielle is taken, but Louis? That’s the one to shatter him. He’s on autopilot after Louis is gone. There’s no coherent thought or emotion. He goes catatonic, and describes feeling nothing but agony.

4. Armand says Lestat never loved Louis and was cruel to him, because he wants to hurt Lestat. Lestat doesn’t deny it because one, he’s blaming himself over what happened to Louis. And two, because he’s shut down in grief. Lestat doesn’t respond to hardly anything during that time, because his heart is destroyed.

So yeah, I don’t know what else to say other than that blog is living in an alternate universe and completely ignoring book canon facts about Loustat. They probably aren’t the best source when it comes to knowing Louis, Lestat, Loustat, or that context they think isn’t included. You ever want context and truth about Loustat? You’ll find it right here. 😊😉❤️

[treesarewhispering]

Trenchpunk - Dead Legions soldiers

Dead Legions are the dregs of armies, forgotten and disabled veterans from every nation, that swore their loyalty to carving out a nation of their own where they can finally live peacefully.

I decided to do some "basic" infantry, I never really draw the normies of the army. I think it's because I am always wanting to push my ideas. I also almost never do marker drawings on my own volition, so I need to get back into it!

This one is heavily inspired by Valkyria Chronicles, lancer and shock trooper.

His gun is based on a the concept of a Vickers QF rocket gun. I totally brain pooped and forgot where to put the rear sights. Guns are hard, okay?? Hers is based on a Sten but with a heat shield to give it that WW1 feel.

The raccoon dog is there because I need to put a cute animal in everything.