#Widgets & Stone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rooksunday · 2 months ago

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hi okay so we’re onboard with fox and his droid buddy and all i’m saying is

there’s a universe where the kaminoans weren’t quite as confident in their product and they slid one perfect android into each dispatched division, to report back on defects in the clones in the field. to protect the IP, and all that.

the AD units don’t know what they are. why would they need to know that someone else sees through their eyes? besides, all vode know they are observed from the moment they’re decanted until the moment they die. what would one more set of eyes be, after all that?

anyway what i’m saying is that, in the coruscant guard, those eyes are thorn’s.

but the force is dark on coruscant and it does strange things to thorn’s circuitry. he gets blackouts—but many in the guard experience blackouts. he should report them—he feels strongly that he’s supposed to report them and yet—but it’s probably just the weather. the job. not getting enough fresh air or laps. that’s probably it.

then thorn is lost on scipio, and all his data is lost with him.

(by that point the kaminoans don’t bother issuing new AD units. the war has firmly cemented their galactic reputation.)

time passes. then, one day that resembles every other murky day, a knock comes at fox’s door. it’s honk!, the mouse droid that adopted fox for some absurd reason, and behind him trails—

fox stares. “that’s a b1 in a trench coat.” he jolts to his feet, drawing his blaster in the same motion, and shouts, “that’s a kriffin’ b1 in a karking trench coat! i’m going to hang widget by his toes!”

the clanker dodges the first shot, and the second, and then fox yelps as honk! tases him in the shin and—

“what in haran is going on in here?” stone demands, bullying past the crowd. he stops in the doorway to fox’s office and has to take off his helmet. “i reiterate my question more forcefully.”

fox is hopping, holding onto his shin with one hand, and waving his blaster in the face of a placid b1 droid. a droid wearing a trench coat. a droid with red wings painted on the crest of its chassis.

“honk! is a separatist! arrest these droids!” fox yells. his eyes are wide and his forehead glistens with sweat. he has, stone notes, impeccable balance.

“i’m not a separatist, sir,” the b1 says. “you said they’d never take me, anyway. remember?”

it sounds—

fox’s blaster hand is shaking. “i don’t— i don’t know what you’re— stone! shoot it!”

stone didn’t reach for his blaster. he’d get decommissioned, but he waved off the troopers crowding behind him, and he didn’t reach for his blaster.

at least the clanker would shoot him in the front. stone swallowed.

“sir, i—“

“commander—“ the clanker started.

fox barked a command, underscored with a wave of his blaster. “no!”

a flurry of beeps came from the region of fox’s ankles, loud in the standoff. honk! whirred around fox’s desk and chittered at stone. he glanced at his vambrace, then honk!, then the clank— then the droid. then fox.

fox’s hand was trembling on his blaster. he could’ve shot the droid a dozen times by then but he hadn’t. he didn’t seem able to look away from those red wings for more than seconds at a time.

stone swallowed again.

he’d been wishing for thorn to come back for a long time, and now he finally understood the warning in all those tubie tales. be careful what you wish for didn’t cover even half of it.

#if echo can have his brain uploaded to the system then the reverse can also be true #come with me on this journey #thorn maybe cracked the firewall by accident when he came back #we all have a chip he says #you’re just like me! :):)#cmo shiv like mmm gonna get my scanner out real quick okay #they get him a bunch of purloined battlefield scrap and thorn upgrades himself #(he’d already figured out the voice modulator)#he keeps the trench coat #oh crap i just realised i made him the outlaws droid ahahahha i’m sorry #putting my blorbo in situations #commander thorn #commander fox #commander stone #coruscant guard #star wars #the clone wars #honk! the mouse droid

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chrismerle · 9 months ago

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Been a while since I posted an ad, so I tossed one together with some of my favorite pieces! If you're interested in any of them, all of them are available in my Etsy shop, Widget's Apparel. There's a link to the shop in my pinned post and my blog description. There will be a link to the shop and the individual listings in the notes of this post!

Items, left to right, top to bottom:

Labradorite and sterling silver necklace. $72.

Moss agate, jasper, and copper crescent moon pendant. $35.

Rhodonite, sunstone, agate, and copper necklace. $52

Iridescent glass and silver-plated copper necklace. $38.

Gold stone and silver-plated copper pendant necklace. $50.

Quartz, aventurine, glass, and silver-plated copper necklace. $48.

Sodalite, glass, and steel viking knit necklace. $75.

Glass and silver-plated copper pendant necklace. $42.

Dyed palm room and copper tree pendant. $65.

Sodalite, lava stone, and silver-plated copper bracelet. $30.

Unakite, glass, and copper bracelet. $30.

Quartz, aventurine, and silver-plated copper bracelet. $28.

#necklace #necklaces #pendant #pendants #bracelet #bracelets #jewelry #jewellery #quartz #sodalite #agate #jasper #sunstone #aventurine #gold stone #silver #copper

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chernabogs · 1 year ago

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if you're still taking requests, can you maybe do "You're lucky you're cute" with either Malleus or Sebek? (and reader) You can choose one of them and have fun!!

Thank youuuu this is just a glorified excuse for me to info dump about etiquette with Fae interactions LMAO (also I need to work more on my Sebek down the line... my boy...I will write him soon)

CAVEATS

Inc: Malleus, GN!Reader (referred to as Prefect once) Warnings: None! Except the ominous undercurrent of danger through words at the amusement of a Fae WC: 2.5k! Excerpt: Truthfully, many of the things he’s saying are things humans should know—but the crevice between the sharing of information from Fae to humans means many of the modern humans don’t. He’s granting you a one up by doing this—at his own entertainment.

People find it hard to speak of things with him sometimes. Exulansis, Malleus learns it’s called. A resignation to stop talking about an experience because the other cannot relate. When the other House wardens speak of motor vehicles, of vacations, of the latest tech and similar topics he finds his mind turning in circles as he puzzles over what that experience is like. What is a vacation to the Tropical Isles like? What benefits does a magic-powered vehicle have over a gas-consuming one?

Perhaps he has a face when they speak of this. A furrow in his brow, a darkening of his gaze. He doesn’t mean it in hostility—it’s all coming from a purely clinical stance. He’s tried so many times just to get his older flip phone model to work that he’s entirely given up comprehending what this ‘widget’ is, or the benefits of ‘bio-metrics’, which sounds like some poison you’d feed someone in his opinion.

Maybe this is why he finds somewhat of a solace in your company at times like this. Even though you seem to know all about most of the things the others speak of, you’re still clueless about the magic aspects, and that gives him something of a purpose—explaining those to you.

“What if you mix it?”

You’re lying back on the stones of a cottage that once stood proudly in the forest surrounding Night Raven College. It’s since been reduced to nothing more but a few bits of the foundation and a lot of rotting wood. He raises an incredulous eyebrow at your words.

“No, I would not recommend combining any fire magic with any form of wind magic. Most think it would just blow the fire out, but you are more apt to end up with an inferno than a resolution. Fire magic is measurably different from your flint and stick type, after all.” His gaze travels over your form as your expression shifts to one of intense thought. It reminds him of the one he wears when speaking with Shroud about his broke phone (again)—and it feels wonderful to be on the receiving end.

“Grim and Ace did that once, you know. Combined Grims fire with wind magic Ace summoned. I probably should have thought of that before asking you.” You sit up with a groan and rub your face. “What about water magic, then?”

“It depends on if the mage has used a sub-spell when summoning their fire spell. If a sub-spell was used with the intent of permitting the flames to burn more intensely, such as an oil or metal, then the water would simply feed the flames more. Hence why it’s quite important to pay attention to what your opponent’s actions are.” You remind him a little of Sebek and Silver when they were younger and just trying to master their own magic. You have the same curious disposition—and frustration about things just not being concise.

You give him another look as you pick up the book you had tossed aside earlier. When he had invited you for a walk with him, he hadn’t anticipated it becoming a late-night study session. It was a refreshing experience, though—an opportunity for a ‘school-life’ moment that Lilia always pushed him to have. Midnight cramming.

“When fighting someone, aren’t there a whole ton of other things to worry about beyond whether a sub-spell was used or not?” You sigh as you begin flipping through the pages. He notes that your writing gets rather chaotic at some points, and figures these are the things you’re picking his brain over.

“Not every incidence of magic is for combat purposes. Why, in Briar Valley, magic is used for the most basic of tasks—such as cooking. That ties in with the fire information I just disclosed, no?” His lips quirk into the faintest of smiles. “It would be in poor taste if the cooks at the Palace were to mix magic with the wrong sub-spell by mistake.”

“Have you ever barbecued something before? It’s practically combat.”

Barbecue. Malleus remembers the first time he tried grilled meat, when he was younger, and Lilia had enough with the raw diet the prince had been kept on for the majority. The food had tasted like charred wood and from that point on Malleus had deliberately minimized his requests for it. “I am… not experienced at the barbecue, no.”

“The barbecue.” You repeat, glancing at him with a smirk. “So, Briar Valley doesn’t have any fun cookouts? No throwing something on the BBQ and having a night of it?”

“This is getting off topic.” He stands from where he was sitting on the foundation next to you and waves a hand. “Perhaps you should return to your dorm and study there. We can reconvene another time.”

Your expression shifts to surprise and you’re quick to protest his words. “No, no, I’d rather we stay. Besides, I’m not going to do anything if I go back, and you’re probably not going to do anything if you go back, so…”

“So?” He repeats with a raised eyebrow as a bright grin appears on your face.

“Is it not better to do something together then nothing on our own?”

Ah, you’re trying to work a strange sort of logic to your argument here. His arms cross over his chest as he looks from where you sit and out to the dark woods that surround you. It’s a quiet night, with a few fireflies flashing amongst the trees that loom like dark figures just beyond. Their towering presence ignites a sense of occhiolism that has him moving just a few steps closer to you.

“Do you desire my company so much? All I’ve done is give you answers to your homework woes.” He gives a pointed look to the pen and book you have in hand as a flash of embarrassment crosses your face. You shift uncomfortably and close the book.

“Well, I do want to say thank you for all that you’ve done so far…” You mumble. Your comment strikes a thought in his mind as he observes you a bit closer. “I guess I don’t really need to keep bugging you with questions.”

“Did I ever imply it was a bother?” He moves through the grass to sit back down next to you. The lack of sound that his motions make would be unsettling to most, but your blindness to the unusual and the strange makes you seem entirely unaffected. “Do not read things that aren’t there.”

“I… sorry?” He can see you struggling a little to navigate the right thing to say, and this brings a sense of amusement to him. Your confusion about this discussion may be mean on his part, but it’s only temporary.

Malleus may not know much in terms of technology, or the best place for a vacation, or whether a gas-car is a better deal—but he does know magic. And he is feeling rather playful this evening as he watches your panicked gaze dart around his features.

“Do your studies incorporate learning of magical beings, by chance?” He begins to lay the foundations for his plan as your shoulders relax at his question. You hum and flip around the book.

“I mean, vaguely? There’s a bit about dwarves, and elves, and a very small paragraph on the Fae… but not much else.”

He clicks his tongue as his pale fingers reach out to touch the edges of the pages. “Oh, that won’t do. You can be forgiven for not understanding magical spells should you ever visit Briar Valley, but to not understand the Fae? You might find yourself in conflict.”

Then he makes his expression light up. “I would feel terrible should that happen, knowing I could prevent it, so I ask now—would you like to know more about my species?”

It’s like dangling a forbidden fruit in front of a starving soul. He rarely shares anything about himself or his thoughts, even though you’ve both been attending these walks together for a few weeks now. You close the book again and nod, and that’s all he needs you to do. “Sure, thank you!”

Your politeness is quaint—but he knows such an approach may not last once he begins talking. He smiles a little more, and it’s an expression to hide how eager he feels about this.

“To begin, you may find that while all of us have a degree of pride, some of us are more prideful than others. You are very generous with your thankfulness and apologetic responses, and although I appreciate the words and the acts as I know they come from a place of good intent… this is not the case for all my kind.” He hums thoughtfully. “In fact, some may think your thanks imply that they are subservient or—even worse—that you are now in debt to them.”

He pauses and lets his words linger as they run through your mind. Your eyes widen slightly. “Subservient? I don’t want anyone thinking that whenever I just say thanks.”

“I know that, and so does Lilia, but that’s because we’ve interacted with humans a great deal. Some Fae have very little interaction, and with that, hold very old beliefs. One should simply be… cautious. Express gratitude for what they have done, but do not say thanks.”

Malleus feels his amusement grow as your expression becomes solemn at his words. He takes it as a sign to continue as he taps his nails against his thigh.

Truthfully, many of the things he’s saying are things humans should know—but the crevice between the sharing of information from Fae to humans means many of the modern humans don’t.

He’s granting you a one up by doing this—at his own entertainment.

“We also value honesty immensely. Have I ever lied to you?” He asks, and when you shake your head with confidence, he chuckles. “No, and so I would hope that sentiment would be reciprocated. Lying or deliberately keeping information from me is something I don’t appreciate, but I will not curse you over it like some may.”

“This makes me feel like I’m in politics instead of a conversation,” you mumble, resting your chin in your palm. He hums and nods.

“In a sense, it is like politics. Be cautious of what you say, and if you don’t know what to say, say nothing at all. The same applies to accepting gifts—both obvious and not. Accept what you trust, but if you have a bad feeling, decline and simply do so in a way that is not apologetic.”

“How do I know if something is being given as a gift?” There’s concern in your tone as you ask this. It makes Malleus smile wider—a sharp flash of white fangs in the dark—and he shrugs.

“You don’t always. For example, you were quick to accept my offer of this information, even though this information itself is a gift. But we have a rapport; I trust you, as you trust me.” He stops tapping his thigh. “It’s the same for how willing you and the others have been at granting me and Lilia your names. There’s a great deal of magic tied into a person's name.”

Malleus notes that flash of unease in your gaze again as you grip your book a bit tighter. Perhaps this is unsettling to you. Perhaps the reminder of just how different the two of you are is throwing you into a perilous loop; you became comfortable enough with him that you began to see him as equal, and the reminder that you aren’t is jarring.

He doesn’t want to scare you too terribly, though. This isn’t what these lures of information were meant to do. It was meant to amuse him with your expressions and awe at these simple rules of etiquette, but also to guarantee your safety if—well, when—he asks you delicately to visit Briar Valley soon. Plus, you are the one consistent person outside of his close family who has bothered to hold extended conversations with him.

“What can you do with my name?” You ask slowly. It’s a valid question. What can he do with your name?

“Oh, one can do many things with a name. Take it as their own, bend it out of shape, lock it in a box or toss it into the sea. A Fae can wipe it from your mind and put it in their pocket should they be so inclined. They can make you do whatever it is they please.” Not that many would anymore. Perhaps in the days when humans and Fae were at war the notoriety of name-theft was known throughout the Valley, but in these recent days of languid peace, name-theft is more apt to find the Fae imprisoned than anything else.

“And will you?” You ask, catching him off guard for a moment. When he looks at you again, you look nervous as you stare back. “Take my name, or anyone else's?”

Malleus blinks slowly as he processes your words. Ah… maybe this has gone too far now. He softens his expression and watches as this mirrors on your own. Then he warms his smile to grant some reassurance as he laughs softly. “Oh, no, no. You have my name as well—we are equal, in a sense. I don’t have power over you or anyone else in this school beyond what any other mage may hold.”

You exhale slowly and relax your shoulders. His words have put you at ease and this pleases him before your expression takes a sharp turn into a scowl.

“Thanks for instilling all this paranoia in me. You know, when I finally visit you in Briar Valley, I’m going to be triple thinking everything that comes out of my mouth now.”

“When?” He jumps on that word really quick as his expression shifts to one of smug delight. He didn’t even need to push the topic—you just dove headfirst into it yourself. He hears you clear your throat loudly as you yank open your book again.

“Don’t. I’m going to write this all down in the margins before I forget,” you grumble as he chuckles softly again.

“Ah, you’re lucky you’re cute, Prefect.” He hums as he returns his attention to the treeline beyond. The fireflies continue to lazily flash in the night, and the silence of the forest brings a sense of peace. There’s solace in your company—and he looks forward to experiencing it more in the future.

So long as you don’t agitate another Fae. He can’t help you with everything.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #malleus draconia

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whiteheartlight · 4 months ago

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hey I wrote a fic while my internet was down about the world's grumpiest Toa while he and the others were traveling back to Mata Nui with the Matoran. please let me know if you enjoy. Onewa is such a bastard. but a bastard with nuance?? I've always thought he and Vakama should get to talk after the Visorak arc

It would actually be pretty cool, Onewa thinks, if Nuju didn't manage to concuss himself so bad while he did it.

He was up there where he needed to be, that's the thing. And Onewa's not afraid of heights like Whenua is, but when that bird smashed through the window of their airship and tried its damnedest to get Vakama by the waist, Onewa did think to himself, for a moment: I'm a Toa of Stone. Maybe the others should handle this.

Nuju might have intuited that thought, or maybe he had just been itching for some action after being stuck on a ship with the rest of them for weeks on end, but one way or another, he pulled out those ice spikes and practically leapt out the window to go after that over-sized set of knives on wings.

“Can't we just let the poor thing go?” Whenua had called, clinging queasily to a nearby support pole as the wind rocked over him. “It was probably hungry!”

“So it gets to eat Vakama?” Matau replied. “Or do you think it needs two of us?”

“If we let it go it could go after the Matoran spheres,” Vakama called over the wind. “We need to at least knock it out of the sky!”

“I'll handle the draft it's riding!” Matau shouted, leaping out the window and spreading his wings. He dipped hard before he caught the wind and came back up towards the bird, one hand curving through the air as he redirected the draft.

Unfortunately, he didn't redirect himself to avoid it. The bird panicked at the sudden change, flapping hard to try and course-correct, and Onewa heard Matau go “oh, whoops” before a metal wing was slicing towards his own. Matau disengaged his wings to avoid the blow, and he instantly started to plummet.

Onewa grabbed him neatly by the back of the armor from the side of the ship.

“Can you watch it, Matau?” he snarled at him. “What a stupid fucking stupid way to die that would have been.”

“Aw, were you worried?” asked Matau, making a fake pout.

“There would have been a whole village of Matoran with no one around because you weren't paying attention. Do you even care about that?”

“Spirits, Onewa, I would have quick-caught myself. Don't be a stuck crab about everything.”

“You two both focus!” Vakama called sharply, and Onewa swore before hauling Matau back in to safety. The bird swooped past them again, enormous talons reaching for either one of them before it darted back out again. He probably did need to focus, but honestly, in that moment, he felt so angry he could scream.

Look, it's not just been this, okay? Ever since Vakama got back from his stupid fucking solo trip that he still won't even tell them about, the others have been wearing on his nerves like they're getting paid good widgets to do so. He doesn't even really know why. They're just all... the same. They're all the same beings they always were. Weren't they supposed to change over time? Not just Vakama putting his shadows to rest, or Matau toning down the sarcasm, or whatever you want to call what any of them have been through. Wasn't there supposed to be a moment where he looked around and realized that they were all – you know – professionals?

Aren't they supposed to feel like real Toa?

Instead they're here, on a busted old airship, trying to caravan a pack of comatose Matoran across unexplored waters because they couldn't save their real homeland. It seemed to strike him in the chest for a second, as the shadow of the bird's wings passed over him. No matter how many times he thinks it, it always punches him. He always thinks to himself Lhikan expected more from us.

He was thinking it again when Nuju distracted him by finding his footing along the side of the ship. Onewa couldn't even see what support beam or structuring he was standing on, but, with his ice spikes in the side of the ship's metal to steady him, Nuju got up.

“Oh, wow, he's up there,” said Whenua, and then promptly covered his eyes with his hands. “Be careful!”

“Matau, be ready to catch him if he falls,” Vakama ordered, and Matau bounded back into the sky. Nokama had a selection of clouds pouring down a fence of rain, bringing the predator bird towards Nuju, there on his feet, and he pulled an arm free, striking it through the air like he was giving a command. Onewa saw the light catch brilliantly on the heavy ice that formed along the creature's wings, sending it swerving, shrieking, and then falling. It came close to Nuju, who leapt away gracefully, back towards the entrance of the ship –

And, in one unfortunate push from the bird's spiraling wing, cracked his head hard against the edge of the open window.

“Oh!” groaned both Whenua and Nokama at the same time, everyone shifting towards Nuju in a collective alarm. Vakama grabbed Nuju's shoulders from the front while Matau swooped back inside to grab him from behind. He was only limp for a second or two, a white hand staggering up to grab at his head, but they had all heard that metal clunk of his cerebral casing connecting solidly with the harsh edge.

“Is it cracked?” asked Onewa tersely, coming to stand at Vakama's shoulder, hand out-stretched with nothing to do. Vakama was looking at Nuju's casing with a forger's eye, searching for any fractures.

“I don't think so. It'll be the inside we should worry about. Nuju, you need to sit down.”

Nuju was trying to get onto his feet without needing support, but not having much luck at it.

“I'm fine,” he snapped, voice shaky. “I handled it.”

The attitude is what's really getting Onewa mad, now that they're all here, crowded around Nuju. Onewa scoffs, shaking his head at him. “Seriously? You could have fallen too. We couldn't have just handled that from inside the ship? A couple ice darts wouldn't have taken it down the same? Oh, you were just aching for a fight.”

“Onewa,” warns Nokama, trying to get Nuju to at least lean back on them. “Not now.”

“Don't worry, sister, I think the odds of him remembering any part of today are pretty slim after our resident genius's latest idea.”

“Nuju, sit down,” Vakama insists, pulling his shoulders. Nuju's being such a pain. Is this how Toa act?

“I don't want you all touching me!”

“We're trying to stop you from falling. Let us get you checked over and then we will all back off, I promise.”

Nuju grabs at his mask again, groaning, but he doesn't let them lower him. He grips at the wall and then shoves Matau's arm off him. “Brother, just one second,” Nokama's telling him gently. “You're okay, we've got you.”

“I'm fine, get off!”

“Oh, by the spirits, Nuju,” Onewa hisses, something molten rising up in him. “Just sit down and shut up.”

Nuju's legs give out from under him so fast he nearly smacks his head a second time, but Matau scoops him up with a yelp. Pale blue eyes pierce Onewa with a fury that needs no words, but as his mouth fails to glow, Onewa realizes he can't talk.

Something races down his spine. He didn't mean to command him like that. Or maybe he did – the intention was there, it has to be, for his mask to work, but he didn't mean –

Nokama grabs Nuju's wrist before his hand can come up to strike back with ice. He grabs her wrist in return, mask contorting, but then something goes blank in his eyes and he sways, just trying to breathe. He hit his head hard.

“Onewa, go cool off,” Vakama orders shortly.

Oh, yeah, of course the Fire Toa's going to handle this. Their fearless leader.

Onewa scoffs and turns his back on his siblings, feeling four sets of eyes on him as he goes.

He shouldn't have done that. But this is it. This is... this is destiny, he supposes.

It doesn't feel right in his chest. Nothing has for weeks.

“You come to kill me, ice-weaver?”

Onewa's adjusting the shape of his whetstone carefully in his hand, its form shifting like water beneath his fingers, when he hears the steps approaching him.

Honestly, he's impressed Nuju knows about his little hiding spot. At the back of the landing bay, on the bottom of the ship, the tow cord stretches out towards the airships connected to their own. The windows around it are meant to allow Matoran to check that the cord is intact and undamaged, but it also makes a nice viewpoint. The other ships bob along through the air behind them, and at this time of evening, the sun comes through everything like its trying to cram the light inside. He likes the white noise of the nearest blade spinning through the air too – whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, low and heavy.

“Nokama's trying to talk him down,” comes a voice that isn't Nuju's. “He was more sullen than angry. I think he's embarrassed. It wasn't very kind of you.”

Onewa turns to level Vakama with a look, taking in the sight of him crouching to meet Onewa's gaze, still outside the bubble of the tow cord area, which is not tall enough for a Toa to stand in. Onewa shakes his head and pulls out his proto pitons, setting them on his lap.

“There's no difference between embarrassed and angry for a Ko-Matoran. He'll have his revenge, and I'll take it. End of story.”

“You lost your temper with him.”

“My real punishment is right now. Nokama really knew who to send to give me the most grief, didn't she?”

“She didn't send me.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Come on, you know she's focused on Nuju right now.”

Onewa snorts. Okay, that's fair. She takes care of all of them in a lot of ways – probably more than she should – but she does pick favorites sometimes. He doesn't care, though. He doesn't want her coddling and he loves his sister no matter who she's standing up for.

“Look, Onewa,” Vakama says, taking in a deep breath. “I understand entirely that you have extra doubts about everything since what I did with the Visorak, but – ”

“Can it,” Onewa cuts him off, curving his whetstone along the underside blade of his piton. He loves that slide of protodermis on stone. “If you could get out of your head for more than five seconds you'd remember that I'm not treating you any differently than I always have. Honestly, that whole drunk-on-power shtick might be the most interesting thing you ever did in your life. No more big sad eyes. Just bright red rage.”

Vakama scowls at him. “It was monstrous.”

“I can't tell you how little I care about your pity party. Seriously, if I tried to find the words – ”

“Alright, alright,” Vakama sighs, sitting down beside him. “Well, you're certainly treating the others differently.”

Onewa examines his piton in the light. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Sure,” Vakama answers flatly. “Onewa, one way or another, couldn't we try getting off on a better foot? All of us?”

Onewa finds that pretty funny. “A tiny bit late to be asking, don't you think?”

“Now's the time. We're going somewhere new. Leaving old enemies behind. Old shadows. Speaking for myself, I can acknowledge I'm in a much better headspace to be...”

“Less aggravating?”

Vakama pins him with a look. “Whatever you need me to be.”

“How noble.”

“Onewa. You controlled Nuju today. He's going to have your head. You can't be treating the others like that. I don't know why you'd choose Nuju of all people to pick on, but whatever I need to do to help you – ”

“Did you ever meet Toa Rooka?” Onewa asks.

Vakama stops short, evidently turning this change of topic over in his head. “No,” he replies. “Saw him from afar, you know how it would go. Rooka, of course, was – ”

“Larger than life?”

“In a number of ways,” Vakama agrees. When Onewa doesn't answer, he presses on. “You knew Rooka?”

“I saw Rooka die,” Onewa says.

Vakama goes quiet. “I didn't know that.”

Onewa nods at nothing, frowning out the window.

“How did it happen?” Vakama prompts him.

Yeah, he still remembers that answer in vivid detail, no matter how the years pass. Onewa presses his thumb hard into his wrist, below his vambrace. “Dark Hunters. Long before Nidhiki started crawling around or anything, just... the war, or its remnants. I was out in the fields where the fighting had happened, part of a search and rescue thing that the Mangai were leading. All the Hunters were supposed to have cleared out, but... I wandered onto them. Had my carver's tool in my hand. I remember coming over this crest and seeing him there, more gold than brown in the sun like he was. They put an axe through most of his throat, and the ichor sprayed like crazy. He didn't make any noise or anything. I think I said his name, so I'm lucky they didn't hear me. Or maybe I said 'Toa.' I think I just said 'Toa.'”

Onewa shifts in place and shrugs. “Anyway, some of the others must have been patrolling with him, because Naho and Lhikan were already looking for him before he was gone. I didn't go fetch them or anything, but they saw me sitting on top of the rocks, watching. Naho started cleaning up Rooks, and Lhikan came and got me. He picked me up – and you can imagine how much I would tolerate that normally, but I let him that day – and he took me home. Checked on me, afterwards, and then, he just never stopped checking on me.”

He can see the second Vakama becomes tempted to cut in with some anecdote about how Lhikan was always so caring like that, wasn't he, and Onewa cuts him off sharply.

“So I'm saying you aren't the only one who lost him, Vakama.”

“I never said I was,” Vakama shoots back, with a little of that Fire Toa heat.

“Yeah? You act like it sometimes. Now you know. And whatever, okay, you were stuck in your head, that's fine. But if you could stop acting like this is the fire-spitter show for two minutes, it would help me out, thanks very much.”

“It's always something I'm doing wrong, isn't it?”

“And here we go, right on schedule.” They glare at each other for a second before Vakama reels himself in, puffing out this hot, annoyed breath and crossing his arms over chest.

“So, what? You're saying you're just grieving, then, and that has you tearing into Nuju for no reason?”

“First of all, the reason was that he's insufferable. But no, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying – it's been on my mind – I just thought you should know that I miss him too.”

“Oh.”

Onewa twists his vambrace around unhappily. “Yeah, fucking 'oh.' And I know that I've been an ass too. And now there's a lot to adjust to, and I don't know, Vakama. I only ever started following you to whatever degree I did – or sticking with any of the five of you – because I thought it's what he would want. But now look at us. Are we really getting anywhere? I'm supposed to believe we can lead a whole society of Matoran now? I don't understand why he picked us. Any of us, sometimes. But I loved him too.”

Vakama sighs and spreads his hands in an open gesture. “I know you did, Onewa. I know you're not actually... I don't know. Unkind.”

Onewa scoffs, shaking his head. “Really? How would you know that?”

Vakama frowns. “Well, I know you're not.”

“And you're so sure?”

“Yes,” says Vakama simply.

Onewa drops his hands into his lap, frowning back at him.

“Onewa,” says Vakama. “I would rather be your brother than your enemy. We all would.”

“So you're asking me to start being nicer and then we're good?”

“I'm asking you to follow me,” Vakama replies, which is pretty fucking bold, considering what they were just talking about.

“Why should it be you?” Onewa asks. “What have you ever done to deserve my loyalty? Two weeks ago you ran off on your own back to Metru Nui! Why would it ever be you?”

“Are you so opposed to it?”

He's not, Onewa realizes, turning irritably back to his other piton. No. He thinks Vakama could do it, actually. He saw him there at the end of the Visorak, coming back to them as himself, somebody upright and certain, if worn. He saw a leader.

“Maybe you're just not used to following, to being part of a team,” says Vakama, softer. “Which is fine. But here we are, Onewa. You're looking at your future and realizing we're all going to need to be leaders, together. We're going to need to be united. And not just to save our own tails when trouble comes, but because...”

His hand moves towards the other ship in the sky behind them, and Onewa stares out at it. He knows. There are hundreds of Matoran there who will need all six of them. United. There are Matoran who might need someone to carry them somewhere safe, and then to look after them. And that's him, somehow, him and these others. Because Toa Rooka and Toa Lhikan and the others are all gone, and Onewa and these five beings here with him – they're what's left. No other options, not anymore. Onewa and his brothers and sister.

“Deep down, I think that starts your heartlight flashing in a way you're not used to,” Vakama continues. “So maybe instead of telling us you're nervous, or scared – ”

“Watch it, fire-spitter.”

“ – you lash out. But Onewa, the reason that it should be me – just so we're all on the same tablet – is because that's the leader the others chose. And I have not done anything to deserve that. In fact, I've done plenty to be banished from your sights forever. But here we are. Call it destiny, or Lhikan's hope for us, or even say it's only because this is the fire-spitter show, I don't care. Here we are. I never want to be five minutes late to helping you because you didn't call for me, Onewa. I want to be your brother. I'm asking that you fall in line at my side – and all of our sides – and start accepting what we are now stepping into.”

“Well.” Onewa looks down at his pitons again, touching the cold metal for a second. “Maybe I don't know how to do that.”

Vakama hums at him. “I think you do.”

Say what you want about Vakama, but truthfully, this is that Fire Toa bravery they always talk about coming out to play, because in that moment, he has the nerves to put his stupid fucking hand on Onewa's shoulder.

“By the way,” Vakama adds, as he claps his armor and then starts to rise. “You're more gold than brown in the sun, too. Think I know where you got that from. I can't be Lhikan, but I'd be happy to check on you instead. Whatever happens, you won't be alone. We all want to be in this with you, no matter what comes next. Believe it or not, brother, but... we have your back.”

Onewa covers his mask for a second, sucking in a deep breath.

“This is real, huh? This... I'm really stuck with all five of you forever. Lhikan's really dead. It's the five of us. Mata Nui. You lot are stuck with me!”

He can grasp that Vakama's trying to be a cool and collected leader who came to give him words of wisdom, but really, when he breaks and start cracking up... Onewa thinks it's a good sound. Been a long fucking time since he heard Vakama laugh like that, bent over himself and covering his mouth. Or maybe never. Maybe he never knew Vakama when he was full of laughter. He shakes his head and turns away from his brother.

“I have your back too,” Onewa says. “At the end of the day, at least.”

“Yes,” Vakama says, smiling at him. “I know that. I'll see you later, Onewa.”

Then he's gone. Self-righteous forger.

Onewa looks back at the other ship again, the spheres that hold his people gleaming just a few bio away, and he's no tower-loving Ko-Matoran with a penchant for star-gazing of any kind, but in that moment, well... when he closes his eyes and lets himself imagine, he thinks he sees the future.

Yeah, Nuju's going to kick his ass. But there will be good things too. And bad things. And mistakes. And triumphs. The six of them will navigate it together.

He knows what Vakama means to do before he does it.

Maybe Onewa always knew it would be the price. He doesn't know how any part of him was ready for this, but somehow, he is. He sees Vakama reaching out his hand, and he doesn't feel scared. He isn't surprised. He's ready.

Vakama touches the Matoran sphere. A light begins to change him. When it's done, he's not Toa Vakama anymore, and Onewa feels the others staring at him and the spheres in silence. Onewa steps up beside him. He puts his hand on the next sphere over.

thanks for reading <3

#bionicle #onewa #vakama #white light writes #oh yeah and i ignored Nuju's clicking because the retcon is DUMB there i said it

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darkelfguy · 2 months ago

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youtube

The Morrowind Modding Community began 2024 with a bang, releasing over 140 new Morrowind mods in January alone, covering everything from stunning new city overhauls to exciting new quests and adventures, to immersive graphical additions and more!

Besides major new mod releases, the community also released hundreds of new mod updates for a ton of big name mods, and today we'll be covering not just the 5 best mods of January 2024, but we'll also be highlighting some of the more notable major updates released by the community!

After more than 20 years, the Morrowind Modding Community is still going strong, and this episode marks the return of our Mod of the Month series, revamped to better fit the bigger, more active modding community that surrounds this amazing game!

Download Links:

Vivec - City of Swords By Tyrant

Dagoth Ur Fleshed Out By Orion

Gares Last Gasp By Von Djangos

Immersive Grotto Entrances By Hurdrax Custos

A Familiar Song By Superduple

Morrowind Quests Redux By Kildozery

Major Mod Updates:

Caldera Priory and the Depths of Blood and Bone By Seelof and his Minions

The Stone Halls of Solstheim - Reforged By Naufragous77

The Guar Whisperer By Merlord

More QuickLoot By Herbert100

Repopulated Waters - Rowing NPCs By GrumblingVomit

Dallara Imperial Forts By Dallara1000

Amazing Balmora Expansion By Eluwil

Roaring Arena - Betting and Bloodletting By Team VonVom

Windhelm - City of the Kings By Superliuk

Blademeister By Superduple

Magical Missions Recharged By Von Djangos

Mods Featured in the Introduction:

BCOM Plus - Ald'Ruhn Expansion By Jayber - RandomPal - Zzarcon - EndoranWest

SME - Useful Widgets By Always Hungry

Divine Armory By Yeest McFouster

Maar Gan - Town of Pilgrimage By RandomPal

Loot Detector - MWSE By Gerotaritor

Of Gems and Geodes an Ald Rhun Collector By Lord Zarcon

Map Icons - MWSE By Spammer

Note: Cinematic Video Footage Created Using the CinemaCam mod by Rytelier.

This video was recorded with the MMS Graphics Mod List.

#Morrowind #The Elder Scrolls #TES #Mod Showcases #Mod of the Month #January 2024 #Videos #Top 5 #Youtube

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highland-gem-guardian · 2 months ago

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Hi all, just posting this here to let you know about a dragon combo I've been looking out for a while. If you happen to hatch one, or find one that fits I'd love to be notified c: image description below read more

An image of a screenshot from the website Flight Rising, showing a dragon in a dressing room widget with the caption "Labradorite". The dragon is the Snapper breed and has the on-site colours of Tarnish Primary, Abyss Secondary, and Tarnish Tertiary with the following genes: Lionfish Primary, Facet Secondary, and Gembond Tertiary. The following information is typed beside the image:

Any breed / Any Flight / G1 or G2+

Male or Female

Tarnish Primary

Abyss Secondary (Overcast or Denim may be considered)

Stone - Tarnish range Tertiary (Tarnish preferred but not necessary)

In a smaller font the following is written:

The range of colours between Stone and Tarnish include Stone, Taupe, Slate, Driftwood, Latte, Dirt, Clay, Sable, Umber, Soil, Hickory, and Tarnish.

#flight rising #fr

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ashleycodes · 19 days ago

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COMMISSIONS - opening soon?

it has been a very, very long time since i've openly done commissions. i think i needed to take a little brain break. but lately i've been thinking about doing a commission here and there again, as i do miss it. would anyone be interested?

pricing and caveats/deal breakers would be as follows:

$250 - base price, which would include: - fully custom html templates for the skin itself - custom forum structure (up to 3 different styles per category. any more styles will be extra, price dependent on complexity and amount of boards) - member group color changes (for whole skin + member profiles) via variables for easy addition of groups in the future - separate member & staff (or ooc) main profile - light/dark button - webpage design (2 different styles) - footer webpage if desired (for affiliates, discord widget) - accessibility widget - set of general templates (general template, face claim template, member directory template, misc claims template, bbcode multi mod template, application or shipper template if needed, 1 simple bbcode, 2 post html templates, 1 communication template)

$60 - additional templates package, which would include: - 3 additional html posting templates - 1 additional bbcode posting template - a full set of development templates (image, moodboard, quote, playlist) - 2 additional communication templates - 2 social media templates + "reply" templates

any other templates would be discussed on an additional price basis ranging on $5-$10 per template not mentioned above. the reasoning behind this is that i just feel incredibly uninspired/not unique when i code templates so i try not to offer a bunch

$35 - graphics package, which would include: - a full header graphic that matches the skin - staff team graphics that match the skin - board graphics that match the skin - 1 advertisement for the site that matches the skin - placeholder graphics for "unsorted"/brand new accounts that match the skin

anything not mentioned above to be added can be discussed. there are some things i can/will do that i don't feel like take time to add in and therefore wouldn't cost money. so if you're unsure about a feature, i'd be open to discussing it before settling on a final price. i am mostly just trying to provide fixed prices so that you know exactly what you're getting.

the deal breaker in all of this might be that i will probably request a good portion of it up front or possibly the full price. this is touchy, i know, but having been ghosted on final payments after quick turn arounds i think is part of what finally broke me down and when i quit doing commissions. i am trying to offset this, however. i will code the skin directly into your site's board wrappers and css templates (so i will need ACP access). you will get to see the progress live and provide input as i go. i will provide you xml files once it's completed as well and will be available for 1 month post-completion for troubleshooting - though i have noticed by coding live into jcink, i find quite a few bugs on my own so hopefully the implementation process is smooth.

turn around time would be 1.5-2 months depending on the complexity of the skin, possibly longer but this will be discussed. if i give a turn around time, payments are made, and can't meet it, i will discuss a percentage of money back with you depending on the extra time needed.

anyway this is 100% NOT set in stone, i am just trying to gauge the interest based on my new terms/terms that would make me comfortable taking commissions again lmao. i'm not fully committing to this yet, and may very well not do this at all but it is on my mind so here we are.

in other news, i am still working on pushing out other old SH skins as multi-sale premades (none of which will ever be priced more than $30) and will likely create templates for my newest free skin, and maybe put out another more modern free skin but that just all depends on what the ADHD demands from me!!

#misc

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x-heesy · 6 months ago

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...was a universal medicine of the 19th century.

Today it is impossible to imagine that dangerous mercury was once considered the most effective cure for almost everything - from syphilis to tuberculosis, depression and migraines; In short, mercury was a medical hit in the 19th century.

Abraham Lincoln himself took blue pills containing mercury during periods of depression, although he quit in 1861 when he noticed that they led to uncontrollable outbursts of rage.

In 2010, those same blue pills from the President of the United States were exhibited in a museum and analyzed by the Royal Society of Chemistry. It turned out that they could cause insomnia, mood changes and worsen cognitive function

#history #historyofart #historycal #historyfacts #historylovers #historyinpictures #historymade #historygeek #historyera #historyphoto #historyclass #historychannel #historylesson #historygram #historynerd #historytour #historyofphotography #historyplace #historylover #historyphotographed #historymatters #historyoffashion #historyiscool #arthistory #historical #historicalplaces #historicalpix #historicalclothing #historicalphotos #historicalromance #historicalmonument #historicalfacts #historicalart #historicalsnapshots #historicalphotography #historicalphoto #historicalpictures #historicalhome #historicalcenter #historicaldesign #historicalfantasy #historicalusociety

she wakes from sleep, deep from ambien treats

down for hot wet drops from Columbian beans

then she drives goodbye with her kid back seat

moving fuel chewed from a desert heat

I sit alone, with my fragile bones

got my crackberry malls and my twittered drones

bleeding eyes, multiplayer moans

got my youporn love feeling facebook stoned

who’s got the power,

when we follow the noise?

it’s our drug of choice

then I walk downstairs for a midday break

got no time to dine, there’s no sun on my face

so my food machine spits out fresh direct

and stumbles sandwich crumbs on my keyboard desk

so I scan sales in the amazon rain

last chance dance to heal our lonely pain

maybe if I buy her that diamond star

to fill that plastic wrapped widget packed hole in my heart

who’s got the power,

when we follow the toys?

it’s our drugs of choice

and then she takes a drink, like a gladwell blink

suddenly face to face with the way she thinks

she asks, what’s the source of the clothes I wear,

the meat to eat, as the trash burns through the air

where does it come from

where is it going

where does it come from

where are we going

though she chokes of smoke from the 10 o’clock blues

seeing god’s facade fuels the family feuds,

she seals her ears with pod filled tunes

and walks the talk as her mood future moves

everything’s possible in our time

everything’s possible in your mind

I want to fall back into life,

don’t fall don’t crawl,

just rock n roll, and choose your fuel

yes the drugs I use, they feed my fuse

let’s replace the waste with waste that’s food

we’ve got the power,

when we choose the view

to use our drugs of choice

Drugs and Choices by Superhero 🦸‍♂️

#soothing #vintage #medicine #19th century #5/2024 #history #pharmacy #x-heesy #now playing #music and art

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dionysian-socialism · 7 months ago

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Ted Kaczynski was an awful dude, but the amount of times I've recently thought to myself "the Industrial Revolution and its consequences have been a disaster for the human race" (just that phrase, not any of his additional reactionary ramblings) upon seeing late-stage capitalist widgets, waste, and war has been nigh uncountable.

Uncritical progress narratives — upheld by both Pinkerist liberals and Promethean socialists — always presume that the good of modernity far outweighs the bad. Capitalism is seen as a necessary step in the arc of history, even as it dehumanizes billions and turns everything into a commodity at the altar of profit. People have to just "put up with it" in some sense because the deterministic march of destiny demands that humans develop the productive capacities, despite this putting the world ecologies on the brink of collapse.

The Industrial Revolution gave us polluting factories, concentrated exploitation, fascism, the nuclear bomb, state surveillance, car culture, AI art, the military industrial complex, the abstract movement of stock lines mattering more than the concrete material needs of human beings — the list goes on and on.

For the sake of balance, I don't want to act like modernity is all bad. Certain yet-to-be-realized worldviews and structures fostered in the pockets of capitalist civilization are definitely worth taking with us into a potential classless future.

Left-libertarian ideas of reconciling negative liberty and positive liberty, and reconciling the freedom of the individual with the larger collective good? Great stuff.

An internationalism whereby all people are seen as part of the same global community that can thrive via cooperation? Hell yeah.

A collection of sustainable technologies that can be used in a humanizing context to reduce toil, save lives, help us steward the Earth, or otherwise improve our lives? Sign me up.

But I don't believe that those things required dragging humanity through the slaughterhouse that was/is hundreds of years of imperialism and capitalism. We could have came to these conclusions and innovations through a different path, one that didn't put us at the mercy of industrialists and racists and bureaucrats and war profiteers. Hell, various indigenous groups and cultural communities throughout the world across the thousands of years since the Neolithic were realizing those above-mentioned positives in their own ways long before the modern west did; so the path was certainly not set in stone and the rest of humanity could have ended up following their examples. All of this outlines how west-centric progress narratives truly are — their conceptions of "development", their ideas of what structures are inevitable or necessary, their preoccupations with the dehumanizing technologies which have alienated the life out of people and planet.

We can do so so much better. And it's not because socialism will inevitably follow capitalism in some preordained script; it's because we always had the potential to realize a classless, cooperative, ecologically-rooted society by virtue of being human. Material conditions do matter, but that doesn't mean socialism requires capitalist conceptions of "development" — it doesn't mean that the good society is only possible once we've trudged through the back-breaking grind of an imperial machine at its apex, like some kind of proverbial Heaven at the close of a grueling sinful life and purgatorial repentance. Yes, it will take a lot of work to reach socialism, but that "work" shouldn't follow the dualistic laws of progress forced onto us by the civilizational leviathan presently setting the world on fire.

Socialism was, is, and shall be always immanent within humanity. Though there is no true "end of history" — no literal socio-political eschaton — socialism acts a kind of realization of our deepest and fullest potentials, as well as a negation of and ending to the eons of imperial civilization. Socialism is a metaphorical eschaton we absolutely must immanentize.

#dionysian socialism #anti capitalism #ecosocialism #degrowth #solarpunk #immanentize the eschaton

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