#artisan teal

[socalscents]



A Soft aquatic on a candy citrus. "Artisan Teal" by John Varvatos

XX Artisan Teal by John Varvatos is a Aromatic Aquatic fragrance for men. This is a new fragrance. XX Artisan Teal was launched in 2022. Top notes are Lemon and Rosemary; middle notes are Pink Pepper and Water Lily; base notes are Sea Salt, Driftwood and Musk.

[wumblr]

You seem to know perfumes. Let's say I want to smell unpleasantly intensely of sea water and metal. Can you recommend anything?

no ❤️

[greyias]

In between bouncing between two fic projects, two original projects, I got obsessed with this no-knead everything bread recipe from King Arthur Flour, and made a weekend project of putting it together. Despite many trials and tribulations (the dough is super sticky and hard to work with, the bread got stuck to the sides of the dutch oven, and the crust cracked in my attempts to get it out), the loaf actually turned out well!

But I needed to show you all how comically large a single slice of toast is.

The monster looks like a gd mini baguette on the plate. Anyway, I have bread forever now (or however long it takes me to go through the slices I've carefully put away in the freezer). But this has also ignited my intrigue for other potential fun artisan loaves.

[swanatlast]

Enclosed (New York)

[cursedbeasts]

Urum-13 Lore

General Info

Location: Urum system. Calixis sector. Segmentum Obscurus. 

Forge World colors: Teal gray and bright orange

Exports: Augmetics 

Unique traits: Antennae that give its tech priests access to Urum’s noospheric network. If a tech priest of Urum commits a crime, their antennae are removed, and they are exiled. Skitarii are sent after them, and if they are caught, they are executed, but if they manage to escape, they are free to go.

A volcanic forge world located in Calixis sector. Mechanicus activity is centered in six forge centers known as Spires. They are named after the tech priest in charge.

Spires

The majority of Urum's inhabitants live in six huge forge cities known as Spires. Each can be mostly independent, with its own voidport, but each also has its own specialty. The spires are connected with miles of railways.

Spire Aurelia

The biggest and central spire. Houses augmetics manufactorums and the fabricator general's personal forge temple. 

Spire Cordelia

Houses the largest voidport and guest quarters. A beautiful place decorated with sculptures and lush gardens for the less augmented guests to enjoy. The Spire is covered by a massive canopy that keeps Urum’s ash-choked air out. 

Spire Kassander

Urum’s data storage, library, and working spaces of Lexmechanics and Logi. 

Spire Karhu

Urum’s genetors work in the myriad laboratories housed here, monitoring Urum’s genestocks, the health of its inhabitants, and conducting research. 

If you mention the Prime Genetor's name while inside the Spire, he might just appear from practically nowhere.

Spire Maledicta 

This spire houses Urum’s Skitarii and Secutor barracks and training grounds. The spire sits on the side of a volcano, and is protected by a forcefield.

Spire Teyron

Teyron’s spire houses the strategic center, as well as weapon and armor manufactorums.

Ruling Council

Urum-13 is ruled by a council of six tech priests led by Fabricator General Aurelia. The members of the council represent different branches of Mechanicus operations on the Forge World. 

Fabricator-general Aurelia Alpha-1-Omega

The priestess in charge of the forge world. Aurelia's origins are shrouded in mystery, there's evidence that she once started as a Lexmechanic. Now she is a master artisan in charge of her own Forge World.

Fabricator Locum Cordelia

The diplomat and Aurelia’s right hand woman, Cordelia conducts dealings with the outside world.

Secutor Prime Maledicta

Once plucked from a world besieged by Tyranids, Maledicta was entrusted to the previous Secutor Prime, whose name was also Maledicta. Maledicta senior gave the girl her name, and raised her as her apprentice and daughter. Maledicta rose through the ranks and now commands her own Spire and oversees the training of Skitarii and more militant Tech Priests. She resents Aurelia for taking her away from her home, but she feels like she owes it to her mother to make Urum her home.

Magos Dominus Teyron

Teyron oversees the planetary defense and strategizing along with Maledicta. 

Prime Genetor Karhu

A weirdo genetor trapped on Urum because it’s the only place where his ideas of using Terran animal parts to strengthen humanity aren’t seen as tech heresy. Bonds with Maledicta over disliking Aurelia. Also knows that Maledicta is a former genestealer cultist.

Lexico Arcanum Kassander

A quiet fellow who can fivine the future using numbers, data analysis, and statistics. Mostly keeps to himself.

[en8y]

[IMAGE ID: three horizontal flags with nine stripes; each flag has a simplified browser window, with a globe icon inside it. it has a left-to-right blue-to-dark-blue gradient on it. the middle stripe is twice as large as the rest of them, which are equally sized. the first flag has these top three colors: dark brown, medium brown, and light brown. the second flag has these top three colors: dark blue, medium blue, and light teal blue. the third flag has these top three colors: dark cool grey, medium cool grey, and cool off-white. each flag has these bottom six stripes: bright teal, off-white, bright teal, light grey, bright green, and deep purple. END ID.]

webisan: a gender connected to being a old web artisan; this gender is connected to old web aesthetics, construction aesthetics, and being part of, or made by, the construction coven. can be Solid-in-Nature (SOLIDiN), Geo-in-Nature (GEONiN), and/or Magical-in-Nature (MAGiN), but doesn't have to be!

mediwebic: a gender connected to being a old web medic; this gender is connected to old web aesthetics, healing/healer aesthetics, and being part of, or made by, the healing coven. can be Doctor-in-Nature (DOCTiN), Nurse-in-Nature (NURSiN), and/or Magical-in-Nature (MAGiN), but doesn't have to be!

webiceptor: a gender connected to being a old web deceptor; this gender is connected to old web aesthetics, illusionary aesthetics, and being part of, or made by, the illusion coven. can be Changing-in-Nature (CHiN), Hypnoceras-in-Nature (HYPNiN), and/or Magical-in-Nature (MAGiN), but doesn't have to be!

@radiomogai @liom-archive @obscurian

[grey-and-lavender]

Good morning!

I have been toying with the idea of fixing my sleep schedule for what feels like millennia at this point. Life ebbs and flows and so too does my sleep hygiene. Sometimes I have all the practised skill of a sleep artisan, and so I know I feel best getting into bed around 10 pm and waking up at 6 am. And yet I satisfy myself with much less, much later sleep for no real reason.

But no longer! I have a habit to develop and some motivation to do it because today I found some green nail polish.

Not just any green, the lush green I have been hunting for since 2020. For some reason as soon as you move darker than the "has a second job dyeing safety vests" category of green nail polish manufacturers seem to think you want teal. But I don't want teal! I want green. If I can manage three weeks of a consistent-ish bedtime, she will be mine.

While I will be day dreaming about decking my nails out in this lush find, I have some emails to send (boo, hiss, boo, hiss), a large pro-con list about taking on another TAing gig to make, and some reading on party cleavages to explore! Woo! What are you folks up to?

[b0kksu]

 The old lore post was kinda dusty, so, in summary let’s discuss the Gojo Clan.

      They originate from the mountains of Hokkaido, they were meant to be nothing more than farmers, artisans, people that generally worked with their hands. During times of war && famine, they often helped those around them, while few of the clan were hunters, most knew of them due to their humility && charity. The first heir of the Six Eyes was hailed as more of a curse than a blessing, it would not be till the third inheritor did the tides begin to turn, the first is deemed as All Knowing, the Second was the Timid Child, while the Third was the New Dawn. They are meant to resemble that of ‘reunion’ the binding agent in their family will always be the new heir, they are the core that helps to guide them into prosperity && uphold the sanctity of the clan. For this alone, that individual is ‘deeply’ loved, a soul that is never forgotten && hailed to meet again hence their death is always a parting.

    By the Golden Age of Curses, the Gojo Clan is refuted as one of the strongest for holding the pinnacle of the Heavens in their arms. It is in that particular era their will is made sure && all will come to remember them as the foundation that holds the realms together. The Gojo Clan has always been in a bitter feud with the Zen’ins for the focal point of the Heavens cannot align with the darkness, because of this, they view that of wolves as an ill omen && denounce those who hail from such clan. There will be no marriages, agreements, ect with the Zen’in blood to do so is at one’s own peril. Their nature shifts from warm individuals to that of desolation && isolation after the death of the infant heir. From there forth, the successor or the Six Eyes would be raised in isolation. They often dawn white masks or a veil to cloth their features, in their secrecy, anonymity && separation they can protect one another. If an individual is found to be a traitor or to conspire against the clan, they are executed, there is no discussion && it is a heavy burden they carry. To this very day, the estate is still located in their ancestral lands && there is a modern day compound within Kyoto that is used during the summer, otherwise, it is common in the winter months for Satoru to vanish in order to head home. 

Here are some in depth facts along with prominent figures that are often seen along with the origins of Satoru’s parents.

  The mark of a Gojo often includes silver to white hair, some carry a different sheen, pearlescent pink, violet, or cool steel gray. They will always have a variation of blue eyes, resembling the ever shifting nature of the sky, for those most blessed some are particular to ice. They are long, slender && tall beings who naturally carry an air of grace to them. Almost every Gojo walks with a haughtiness even the lowest figures will not be shaken. Often, they have an odd way of speaking that comes off as melodic && sweet. Their common colors are teal, royal blue, silver, lower ranking members are often regaled in sapphires && wooden bracelets. For the highest honor, the one who sits on top shall be garbed in gold && diamonds, the mark of their God. They tend to gravitate to sunflowers, tulips, bright && colorful things that remind them of winter's end, dietary needs are often riddled in veganism except for the fourth successor who was a hunter, thus, in such an era, furs && meats were prominent. 

  The Six Eyes is regarded as a genderless entity that encapsulates the soul of the user. Every eye is a life that was lived, though the body may be different, the personality may shift, they will always stand exactly the same && resemble that neon hue of blue in their gaze. Gojo Satoru is regarded as the most ‘pure�� naturally boyish with a kindness that the rest lacked, many though endured strife, warring times, disease, hardship to endure while Satoru is to keep the balance. He is the thread that holds all together && bends it to his will. 

In the eyes of the other noble houses, the Gojo Clan is referred to as ‘rowan in the snow’ a term of endearment that stems from their origins within the tundra. For others, it is also a derogatory term hissed && seethed over. No one pays mind to it whatsoever, the unblemished purity of such a notorious family is sought after && vetting for marriages begins young, the current incarnation has all but destroyed each prospect.

Satoru was sired by Gojo Itsuki, the towering willow tree of a man that is known primarily for his RCT usage (here’s a short blurb on him). He is one of very few sons in the clan only to be wedded in his early 20's to a woman named Umeko, whom Satoru resembles in every mannerism, despite both being unable to actively be a part of his life, Itsuki is shown to favor the young lordling. There have been many instances of moving the chessboard in Satoru’s sway, he is known to be cunning, ruthless && disinterested in anyone outside of the family. His name is spoken in hissed tongues thus, Itsuki has sought little favor amongst the rest of Jushiki society but has hailed his name in healing abilities enough to be sought after in secrecy. Itsuki has taught his child hymns, songs, the arts, along with comforting him in the namesake as nothing more but an unworthy attendant that wishes to seek an inkling of attention from a mere God. Not much is known about Umeko except that she departed the estate when Satoru was four, they are said to mirror one another in vanity, thus when one gazes at Satoru - they will see her.    

[quinloki]

I don’t know what put this in my head but I don’t have anyone to share it with but you

I was thinking about how because of his devil fruit powers you can’t really leave marks on Marco BUT what if you convinced him or made or bet or something for him to wear sea stone cuffs just for a little bit and you just go crazy bc for once it actually shows up

Too bad they disappear as soon as they come off and he’ll definitely return it worse

*Ahem*. Story time!

One of things you got from the land of Wano, as thanks for a job well done, was a small sea stone heart, woven in silken string, making a surprisingly weighty, but unobtrusive choker style charm. It was an odd request, the artisans all thought, but you knew exactly what you wanted to use it for, and who you wanted to use it with.

The sea stone was weak, even weaker than they used in Udon so that people still had strength enough to work in the mines. It wasn't your intent to use it as actual shackles.

Far more devious in a way, for your target would willingly put himself at your mercy.

You waited until you knew you'd have ample time. Crawling into his arm with hooded eyes and hungry lips, the weight of your need apparent.

You showed him the gift, and watched put it on without question. His eyes met yours knowingly once it was in place, and he put his arms back, placing them against the floor and leaning back a little. The easy smile carried no concerns, just a heat all its own.

"As you wish, pretty bird." He murmurs softly, watching as you move closer, lips parting as your tongue slips eagerly along your teeth. "Carve your desire into me with all you have."

And so you did, for all the hours you knew were available to you. For all the sweet moments that he allowed it. A powerful dance, and a fragile dream - a moment that would be gone the moment he willed it.

The bruises that bloomed across his perfect skin were beautiful, and nothing compared to the thin red trails your fingers nails left behind. The pleasure of your own body leaving marks instead of lines of pale teal fire. Razor thin trickles of blood creating the occasional extra line to slip along his muscles, a testament to your voracity you'd never seen before.

Sweat and cum, blood and drool. By the end of your hours together you were both well and truly spent. Him, for once, more than you, and it was your lips kissing the tender parts of your sweet lover as you both caught your breath. Your fingers following along the lines of your passion. Your voice that praised him for giving you such control and trust.

That calm smile pulls the trinket loose, flames flickering around you. The dazzling effect of the pale blue light dancing along the sweat on his skin, the tremor of light in your eyes, the promise that you're not done just yet.

It's his turn to be sure to carve his desires into you.

[eudaimonia83]

OMG OMG OMG IM ACTUALLY UPDATING

This is not a drill!!!

I know no one cares anymore, but I’m SO EXCITED bc I literally pulled this out of my brain about eight words at a time, for ten thousand+ words. It was excruciating.

CHAPTER 7 — LUCIEN

The wind was cold, blessedly cold, against his hot face.

Lucien felt as though the past few days had slid by in interrupted bursts of time, everything occurring too quickly before screeching to a halt where felt like he was stuck in honey, or a fish snagged on a hook. Either too much had happened, or not enough. The taut, tense meeting with Rhysand in the River House the morning after Solstice had started it all.

Well, no. His mind prickled, and he rubbed the back of his neck. He knew what had really sent him into a spin. Not court work or spycraft. Not even worrying about what had happened on the docks, which he had been so careful to try to conceal.

He opened his cloak to check that it was still there. The amber pin with its gold clasp and black lacquer etching, sitting pert against his tunic and protected by his coat, that drew his attention at all times of the day or night, wondering…how had she known?

He’d gotten used to the whole Solstice experience of being invited to the party but existing on its fringes, weathering Azriel’s cold glances and Cassian’s overbearing merriment, evading Amren’s keen stares, playing the dapper gentleman to Feyre because it was easy, how they’d first known each other. But she had taken him aside and given him this.

It was beautiful. He knew it as he trained his Fae eyes upon it, knew from his upbringing around treasures and artisans, knew it to be handmade of fine materials and worked with spells from time out of mind, that the jewelers and metallurgists had learned from the gods themselves, if you believed such things.

But how could she have known that this…that the hyraeths…that they were a part of his heart as much as the blood vessels and the beat and the muscle?

Lucien ascended the stairs to his Velaris apartment slowly, trying to let the rhythm of the climb clear his head. His place was the second floor of a majestic stone house that had long since been divided into multiple residences. It had loud hallways and several families with multiple children, all coming and going at all the times of day; which was why he had chosen it. In a secret city, he wanted as anonymous an existence as he could maintain. No one asking or noticing or seeing if he’d come or gone or stayed.

The door creaked as he leaned into it, opening into the narrow entry hall. He’d managed to get some furnishings before he’d been shipped back to Spring and then the human lands, though the floors were still bare and the kitchen still empty. There was a massive oak wardrobe from Dawn, complete with intricate locking mechanisms to keep papers and valuables secure, all warm with inlaid wood in the design of the rising sun; wide couches and ottomans in buttery soft leather from Summer, dyed the rich teal of the ocean; deep gold wool blankets with patterns of scarlet leaves from Autumn, folded neatly on the arm of the sofa. It was there that Lucien sat, facing the windows, still lost in thought. Remembering.

The bright light of a hyraeth glittering just out of reach. Two hands reaching up to scoop it out of the air, to show him as it lit the cocoon of her hands like the flame of a candle. No, brighter. Like a tiny star flickering with exhaustion between her fingers. Setting it on a thread with its fellows, to rest and to feed until they mated in the massive grove. Staring up over his head at a great tent of them with the hemlock trunk at its center, glittering and undulating in the wind, sparkling bravely against the darkness. And how grief had welled up in his chest as they died, falling in golden drips to the ground as their lives came to an end. Her voice, gentle and warm, thrilling him with every word: I’d protect them all until I died. It’s my mission and my purpose. A flash of copper, bright across his vision, peering between the fuzz of pine needles on branches, lit from behind by two brown eyes dusted with flecks of gold…

He jolted back to the present with a sigh. It would do no good. It had never done any good to let his mind wander back to those days, halcyon and gleaming and studded with the fluttering, rippling light of the hyraeths…before everything had gone so terribly, terribly wrong.

He leaned forward, letting his head hang until his braids touched his knees. Those days were gone, and he was here in this cold court, and he had questions to answer.

Questions.

A new voice, echoing soft in his ears, hollow with despair: I have more questions than when I started, Lucien…

Elain. Anxious and mysterious and torn.

He shook his head and got up, pacing down the hall to the kitchen, where a solitary bottle of Velaris whiskey sat half-finished on the counter. Lucien poured it into a glass and took a sip. It was bitter on his tongue, not smooth and sweet like the Autumn whiskey he’d grown up drinking, but it had that hint of smoke that he craved, and the bite of the alcohol pulled him into focus. She was researching — he knew Gwyn and Clotho had allowed her to go to the library. But would she find what she needed if she couldn’t tell them what she was looking for?

She found what would touch my heart, somehow. Even though I didn’t tell her.

Maybe he could do her that favor. Be her research assistant, even from a distance. Answer some of the questions that tore at her heart.

Two brains are better than one, he could almost hear another sarcastic voice teasing.

Yes. Maybe there. Maybe she could point me to the right scholar, the right library, the right court…

He tossed back the contents of the glass, winced at the burn, and wiped his mouth. It wasn’t too far to winnow. And no one would miss him if he was gone for one night, to see an old friend.

Lucien seized a clean tunic and breeches out of the wardrobe and stuffed them into his shoulder bag before strapping on his knife and pulling his cloak around him.

He left the little hyraeth pin snug against his chest. It wouldn’t do to leave it. It was too valuable to sit rotting in this apartment while he was away.

Happy Solstice, Lucien…

He felt the echo of her fingers on his collarbones as the winnow opened and he spun into nothingness, and out again.

——————

As always, the first thing he noticed was the light. The rosy gold glow spilled across his shoulders at a low angle, stretching his shadow to twice his own height. And the plaster of the houses took that light and turned it into a gentle yellow, so soft it almost looked spreadable.

Dawn.

Dawn was one of Lucien’s favorite courts to visit, for as long as he could remember, if only to see the pink clouds scudding across the sky. It was the loveliest sky in Prythian, even eclipsing the magnificent stars of Night, because the sun was always peeking gently around the horizon, as though you might catch it in mischief. And the city of Eós was stirring awake like a cat, stretching languidly in the early light. Bakeries bustled behind closed doors, brimming with the buttery smells of kouign-amann, and the caramel of burnt sugar. The multiple workshops and tinkerers’ houses were rustling to life. And on the hill at the center of the city, the great Sky Mirror, a huge lake ringed with a massive and ornate glass frame, would catch the rising sun and amplify it as it ascended, sending brilliance bursting into each home.

He was steps away from the house he was heading to. The roads here were yellow slate blocks, pushed vertically into the ground so only a narrow edge showed, and clustered into intricate patterns and geometric mosaics. His bootheels thudded against it. You could never hide your approach in Dawn; even the ground would announce your presence. He noticed a little mechanical owl scuttle up the branches of a small tree. Someone’s alarm system, he had no doubt. In this society filled with tinkerers and engineers, there was always some new gadget out for testing, some new fusion of alchemy with physical science to achieve a new goal. There were fewer libraries here than in Day, but far more workshops and experiments proceeding into the final phases, all with the backing of the High Lord and his councilors.

And as he came around the corner, he ran almost headlong into the woman he’d come to see.

She was tall and slender, angular, even though her shoulders sloped from leaning forward over books, endless mock-ups, and prototypes. Her dark hair escaped in tendrils from the cursory braid she’d thrown it into, and her tunic was covered with an oil-stained apron. She’d been in her workshop then. And on her shoulder, blinking its bright brass eyes, was the little owl. He heard the hiss of a gear as it hopped once and took flight.

She was staring at him, face blank. Her eyes were dark and troubled, her face more lined than when he’d last seen her.

“Nuan.” He stepped closer.

She drew herself up, almost as tall as he was, and brushed stray hair out of her face with a brusqueness indicative of irritation. She was working on something. I interrupted. He gathered himself to apologize, but she cut him off before he even began.

“Lucien,” she said, her voice rich and sorrowful. It was always how she greeted him. Just his name, just an acknowledgement of his presence. It said more than she probably even meant it to. It brought back so many memories, all in a rush: her, tight with anger, fixing a metal tendon on her mechanical arm, growing more and more frustrated as the metal refused to stretch to give her more freedom of movement; her, shrinking away as Tamlin melted back from beast to fae, begging her for help and offering to shield her from Amarantha in return; her, refusing protection, standing straight and gaunt, fully expecting the attor or Rhysand to come steal her away for torture in the darkest spaces Under the Mountain; him, gore crusted on his face, eye searing with pain and bubbling dark blood whenever he talked or moved, croaking out “please…I’ve been so stupid,” when she finally stepped closer and those cold golden fingers reached for his face.

She had forgiven him his foolishness, at once and fully. It was the strangest and most complicated friendship he had in the entire continent. And yet it was also the simplest, in its way. She was the only one who was scarred as he was, the only one for whom she’d agreed to tinker a new body part, despite hundreds writing her asking for her help, despite generals and barons and lords offering her wild sums of money and gifts if she could but rebuild their armies, their warriors, their friends. She had said no to all of it, shut the workshop doors firmly, taken up study in other fields of science and engineering.

Except for once. Except to help him. He had never known how to thank her for that, and she had never given any reason why she’d said yes.

Now, standing before her as the pink rays played on the horizon, he knew he was coming to take advantage of her yet again. And yet he loved her fiercely. It was a truth that welled guilt inside him anytime he thought about it too long — how many people had sacrificed how much to take in his prodigal ass. To care for him. To love him. How would he ever return that favor?

“Hello.” He reached out his hand, hoping she’d take it. “It’s been a…long time.”

“Yes,” she said, sharply. He frowned in confusion, and caught her expression as she looked hard to the side, and gestured to the wall lining the street he’d come down. She pointed silently, and the stones of the wall began to roll in their mortared settings, rumbling apart to reveal a narrow doorway. She pushed him through it with a hand on his head, still saying nothing; they emerged in a little courtyard, where the grass grew a bit too long and the main features were the lopsided shapes of unfinished contraptions, like some sort of half-built sculpture garden. Prototypes, built in wood and brass and leather. Skeletons that would not deteriorate, but would grow into…what exactly? He stared at the wooden outline of a person, arms akimbo. The frame of a wing extended behind it, and thin leather oiled to near-transparency stretched across delicate wooden bones and joints. Tiny brass wires fanned out across the leather from the wooden joints, labeled with little tags that fluttered in the breeze.

He spoke without turning around, knowing she was behind him with her arms crossed, the gleam of her golden wrist bright behind her work gloves. “Are you teaching this little wooden pixie how to fly?”

Her face was closed tight. “Something like that. What are you doing here, Lucien?”

Not going to go the way he had planned, then.

“I came to see you. It’s been too long and I love the Dawn sky.” He smiled disarmingly.

She raised her eyebrow. “Yes, and? You don’t go anywhere without the behest of the High Lord of the Night Court these days, and even then, you never came to see me unless you wanted something.”

He faltered.

She barked a laugh. “Twas ever thus, I suppose. Be honest, lost little prince. What are you looking for? The Faebane antidote wasn’t enough for the King Under the Mountain? Because you can go back and tell him all his jeweled dragon hoard isn’t enough, I won’t be on his payroll.”

“I’m not here because of Rhysand,” he objected. It was a reasonable thing for her to assume, but it still stung, worse here than even in Spring, since it meant that his wretched position in the Night Court’s employ had attached firmly to his reputation. “I really did come to see you.”

“Bullshit.” She squared her shoulders, but her jawline weakened ever so slightly. At least she would listen.

“What is it you’re working on?” he asked, hoping to steer the conversation by asking her about herself. Nuan was private, but she had passions, and her intellect was sharp and expansive enough that with a little prodding, she would overflow with enough detail to spin the heads of anyone but the Scholars’ High Council in the Day Court.

“Don’t con me,” she snapped. “I’m tracing nerves and micro vessels in skin and connective tissues, and trying to mimic their function, if you must know. And does that make any sense to you?”

“No.”

“I wouldn’t think so.” Pride swelled in her voice. “So why did you come? You know that travel safety all over Prythian is worse than it was before Hybern invaded, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“And traipsing around hither and thither is the best way to run into something, or someone, unsavory?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“And you still came here unannounced.”

“It was important.”

“To whom?”

“To me.” It was out of his mouth before he could think better of it. “Not to anyone else. If Rhysand knew I was here he’d think about it for all of two seconds and then move on to his mate.”

She snorted derisively. “He’s a fanatic about that female.”

“He’s become increasingly short-sighted,” Lucien said, anger welling up in him anew, despite all the dozens of times he’d exhausted himself trying to suppress it. “Nothing matters to him besides Velaris and Feyre, and maybe his son, now. Before he was just a blackguard with too much power. But now, whatever we tell him of uncomfortable truths gets lost before it even reaches his thoughts.” He thought of their meeting, in the great office with the mountains in the background, trying to impress upon the High Lord the suffering of the humans; and how when he hadn’t been distracted, he’d been annoyed just to bring up the subject.

“Through love all is possible,” she intoned solemnly. “So. Perhaps the rest of his court can finally flourish while he focuses his black gaze exclusively on Feyre. They’ve certainly been waiting long enough.”

“I doubt it.”

“Is she properly recovered from her birthing yet?”

How she’d heard of that debacle, he had no idea. “Yes. Thanks to her sister.”

“Which sister?”

He frowned. “Nesta. Why?”

“Because Rhysand’s not the only one obsessed with an Archeron.” She gave him a pointed glance, then turned and stalked into the house, calling back over her shoulder. “Come in. If we must talk politics, at least let’s not do it in the cold.”

He crossed beneath the threshold, and the little brass owl chirped and whirred. His eye spun in response, for all the world as though it were saying hello.

The kitchen was cluttered but warm, lined with terracotta tiles and yellow slate in the exact same hue as the street paving stones. The fire caught all the gold and russet and played with it merrily, casting the whole room with golden light. Nuan crossed to the open hearth and filled a giant teakettle, then dropped in a handful of leaves that smelled of ginger and pear. She added cardamom as the steam began to rise, then placed the lid back and turned around.

“Well. Since you’re not here in an official capacity, then, can I ask you how you are?”

“I’m well,” he responded automatically.

“Of course you are,” she agreed. “Angry at Rhysand, who pays your salary…living in exile with humans and pleading their cause to the mighty to no avail…let’s hope that mate of yours has warmed to you, else you’d understandably be tense as a cat amongst the pixies.”

Lucien smiled. Nuan always did this. Despite her sharp tongue, which she wielded with even more accuracy than Nesta Archeron, she had a way of making anyone feel protected — provided they were under her wing. It was the difference between being in a dragon’s nest, among the eggs, or facing it head-on. “I missed you,” he admitted.

She finally grinned at him, her dark eyes crinkling at the edges. “I’m sure you did. So much you couldn’t even send a letter. Paralyzed by nostalgia for my cluttered workshop and my dusty company.”

He laughed helplessly and shrugged, accepted the tea mug she held out, and then collapsed into a chair, leaning back on two of its wooden legs so that it tilted against the wall. A little circular brass brush buzzed officiously under his feet, cleaning up dust and crumbs. “I started writing many times. I just…never finished.” He took a deep draught of the tea, which was hot but not scalding, and tasted refreshingly sharp from the ginger.

She cocked her eyebrow at him and curled her fingers around her own cup. “I know you’re wanted by everyone in all seven courts and at least two foreign kingdoms, but spare a thought for your old friends occasionally.”

“I think about you all the time,” he protested. “Especially when I’m talking to Vassa.”

“The human queen?”

“She has your tenacity.” Lucien always found describing Vassa to the Fae difficult, but Nuan nodded with a slightly faraway look in her eyes. “She wants to know everything; asks incessant questions, doesn’t relinquish conversation until she’s satisfied I’ve told her everything I know. And even then I’m not certain she believes me. I can imagine her holding out through all the mess that the human lands are going through now. Trying to understand things, to find solutions.”

Tendrils of Nuan’s dark hair slipped over her shoulder as a ribbon of steam rose from the cup. “She could do good things for her people. If the curse can be broken…”

“It seems not.”

She gestured in the air, a weary acknowledgement of the difficulty of the task. “Perhaps broken is the wrong word. Perhaps we’re thinking about it in the wrong way. Advancement in science and engineering and innovation is, after all, most often a shift not in knowledge but in perspective. I hope that’s also true for magic.”

He raised his eyebrows and felt his scar pull as the golden eye, excited by the presence of its creator, whizzed beneath the eyelid. “Exactly why I said she reminds me of you.”

“Stubborn.”

“Smart,” he countered. “And of course unwilling to let anyone else win an argument.”

The whites of her eyes flashed as she rolled them, but the laugh that jumped from her was genuine. “At least you didn’t call me resilient,” she shot back, a note of bitterness in her amusement. “The worst word, I think. When no one sees you except for how you’ve been hurt.” She flexed her golden fingers. “Speaking of wounds, how is yours?”

He pointed to the eye. “This? Unsightly as ever, but no worse.”

She squinted over the rim of her cup. “I meant more invisible ones. You came from Night, didn’t you?” Her nostrils flared as she scented. “You smell of Velaris…all river-water and cold air.”

Damn her. He’d been wondering how to elegantly bring up the questions he came here to ask, but as usual, she’d arrived at the heart of the matter with the precision of a scalpel. “I did.”

He’d tried to keep his tone neutral, but something must have changed in his face. She gazed at him sharply for a moment, then reached out a hand, palm up. “Let me see the eye.”

“Why?”

“I’ll give it a tune-up,” she said briskly. “Check the gears, adjust the spells. While you tell me what you went back to that awful city for.”

Lucien hesitated and then, cringing slightly at the sensation, pulled down his lower eyelid and stuck his finger and thumb into the socket, bracketing the golden eye between his fingers. He hated the sucking pull of removing it…it was remarkably close to how it had felt to have the real eye gouged out, which came rushing back with revulsion whenever he touched it, although with less pain. He swallowed hard and tugged. It came loose after a moment’s resistance and whizzed in his fingers, sounding — though he knew this was idiotic — a bit irritated.

Nuan grinned as he handed it to her, and set it down into a soft cloth on the workshop table. “I like how it likes you,” she said, pushing her sleeves up. Her arm gleamed dully as it caught the light. “One of my best creations. Hello, little thing,” she crooned at it, tilting it back and forth, peering acutely at its shimmering surface. There were minuscule etchings on it that fired as she examined it. It rolled over of its own accord and she chuckled. “You’re a proper little rascal. Has Lucien taught you, shown you all manner of things you shouldn’t know? I don’t doubt it.”

Lucien squinted, limited to half his field of vision. “It’s an eye. What shouldn’t it know?”

She gave him a dirty look. “Just trying to acknowledge all the hot spots you’ve gotten into.”

“Most of them weren’t even mine,” he objected. “Except the times I mouthed off.”

“Oh yes, except for those rare instances.” Her sarcasm dripped like nectar, and he rolled his natural eye with a helpless chuff of a laugh.

“I can’t keep quiet. Never have. Likely I never will, at this point.”

But Nuan was no longer listening; she had put on her magnifying spectacles, which cartoonishly enlarged her eyes so she looked remarkably like her little brass owl sentinel, and she was staring at the orb of the eye with a tiny line forming between her brows, shifting into a perplexed expression.

“What is it?” The back of Lucien’s neck prickled.

It took her a moment to answer, holding the eye as though gauging its weight. “It’s odd,” she finally said, tilting her head to the side and elevating the eye so the shop faelight descended from overhead to cover the table in a brilliant cone. “It’s as if — as if it became unbalanced. Like all the charms in it are stuck on one side. Have you noticed any change in the way it functions? The way you see? The things you can see?”

He shook his head, dumbfounded. “It’s been normal, but…”

“But?”

“Well…” He had wanted to talk about this, to ask her opinion, so why did it suddenly feel illicit? Dangerous? “There was an incident. Recently.”

She put the eye down and lifted off her spectacles, watching him with crescent eyebrows.

“I encountered magic I’d never seen before. Never heard of.”

“Where?” A crisp, precise question. The answer was more troublesome.

“It was by the docks in Velaris. A strange place…sort of a squatter’s nest. But made of boats. Anchored to trash and refuse.” He took in a breath to slow his heart, which had begun to race. “I think the people there had odd abilities. Or some of them did. I noticed that my eye was moving oddly, like it was sticky. Or like it was pulled towards this female with the strange powers.”

“What in the name of the Mother and her Cauldron were you doing in a place like that?” Nuan demanded. He bristled; it was the sort of tone his mother might have adopted to berate him for staying out all night.

“I didn’t intend to visit, I just…ended up there. I winnowed in.”

“Blindly?”

He nodded. “I was looking for Elain.”

Surprise bled over her so quickly it altered the entire shape of her face: everything went round, from eyes to mouth.

“Before you ask, I didn’t know why she was there, but…she pulled on the bond. So I went. And she was being chased by this female. A Lesser Fae, I believe, but with deep and strange powers.”

“Of what sort?”

“I don’t know,” Lucien admitted. “She told Elain she was a witch, trained in folk lore and legend.”

“How did you get away?” Nuan demanded. Her fingers were rigid against the work table; if she held it any tighter, it might have permanent imprints of her nails.

He ran a hand over his face — how to tell the rest of that night simply, without sacrificing accuracy? He settled on a half-truth, at least for the moment. “I shot her with a Faebane arrow.”

Nuan brought up the eye again, turning it, and picked up a tiny, narrow screwdriver from the table. She blew on the eye and traced one of its etchings with the tool, painstakingly drawing the pointed edge along the surface. It hummed, then hissed and split open along a near-invisible line. Inside, a multitude of tiny gears whirred and spun — and indeed, all of them were clustered along one side, instead of being evenly spaced in the center. She stared at it, open like an egg cradled in her two hands. “A witch, she said? Elain said she called herself that?”

Lucien shrugged. “I assumed she was being dramatic. For effect.” Everyone knew witches were only creatures of legend. They had vanished from Prythian before even the creation of the Middle, when the Daglan ruled the lands and goblins and strigoi preyed on High and Lesser Fae alike.

When Nuan spoke again, her voice was low and tremulous. “The charms on my tinkering are nearly ironclad, Lucien. On any tinkering, as a condition, a quality control of its manufacture. Only a powerful force — an elemental force, like a current — could affect its material this way. It is built to respond only to you, and your ideas, your brain, your commands. To resist influence by anyone else, so no one can co-opt its use. As its builder, I will always have a small degree of control over it, but it is supposed to function as if it were a part of your own body. To see it like this is —“

“Strange?”

“Concerning.” She picked up the screwdriver and slowly, painstakingly began loosening the gears and moving them in the tiny orb, stationing them back where they were meant to be. “Witches. Hmm.”

“It was nonsense. Just a way to shield herself from telling Elain the truth about her powers, I’m sure. Witches are gone from Prythian,” Lucien said. He was suddenly tired. Half of his vision gone pounded his head into a dull throbbing ache.

“Well,” Nuan said absently, applying a minute drop of amber oil to the gears and nudging them with the point of her stylus, spinning them faster. “That’s very possible. Even after they disappeared their abilities stayed legendary, all over Prythian. To this day. In some tribes it’s almost like invoking a monster to call down the witches. Even to mention them. There’s at least one tribe in the foothills near Under the Mountain who tell a folk tale that Amarantha came to Prythian because someone made the mistake of calling upon the Morgana, the darkest of the witches from their lore.”

“How do you know so much about them?” Lucien asked.

“I don’t,” she said, matter-of-fact as she extracted a tiny gear from the eye and elevated it into the air, where it rotated idly. She lifted another tool that looked like a tiny golden pin, looping it as though writing, and as she did, more tiny golden marks appeared on the surface of the metal. “But no one ever really did. The only thing that was ever clear about their magic was their ability to take it from others — which of course made people fear them deeply. They were strange, wild creatures, preying where gifts were plentiful. But they had a place in the natural order; a way to keep things in check. To keep a truce between the powerful.” She snorted derisively as she inscribed more golden writing on the tiny gear in marks so small they were almost invisible. “It fits that Dawn would be a place their influence and legend would stay alive. We have always been the interim, the balance between the stronger solar courts, ever since Dusk disappeared into memory. The bright, blessed Day, and the dark, looming Night. Each of whom could roll over in their sleep and crush us without a second thought. Equilibrium is in our interest here. But who knows what price we might have to pay to get it?”

She looked up at him and blinked, her eyes huge behind the spectacles, and after a moment of silence, burst out into peals of laughter. “Oh, Cauldron boil me. Close your mouth, Lucien, you look like you’ve been hit in the back of the head. It’s my privilege to wander in thought a bit.” She flung the cloth at him, hitting him in the face; he scrabbled, tilting backward in his chair as the cloth covered his eyes.

She continued, as he tossed the cloth onto the floor in annoyance. “It was often said by the early masters of magic that balance is as important as power. Like calls to like, yes, but without an opposing force it will bring chaos eventually. So perhaps the witches’ essential balancing function could be preserved somehow, in the greater scheme of things. There was a group of Lesser Fae who they thought might have descended from the witches, in theory. Although that can’t really be proved. Perhaps their powers merely grew to match those of the ancient witches. A sort of convergent evolutionary mechanism.”

Lucien felt cold trickling over his skin. “Which Lesser Fae were these?”

She tilted her head, pensive, fitting the tiny gear back into the eye and sliding it along its axle, only a hairsbreadth in diameter. It glowed, surprisingly bright, and began to rotate. She nodded in satisfaction. “They didn’t have a name, or a tribe. They were united only by magical ability. And of course that made them outcasts from the communities most Lesser Fae hold sacred. Transients, migratory; eking out a living at the borders of societies. They took over sections where magic could be siphoned away from settlements without notice being attracted, and could quickly move on before danger could come to them…which sounds exactly like the place you were just describing.” She gave him a pointed look. “I’ve heard them called many things, mostly derisive. Squatters. Schemers. Mostly they’ve been referred to as skimmers — an interesting word for what they can do.”

Take magic that wasn’t theirs…and wield it? Lucien raced to keep his thoughts logical. “Skimming? As in, taking some off the top…like clotted cream off milk, or fat off bone broth?”

Nuan nodded absently, absorbed in reconnecting the two halves of the magical eye, touching it with her tiny stylus and leaving glowing pinpoints behind, bright and bold as if the metal were molten. “Yes. And making a life from that. It’s really remarkable, you know…” she fastened it back together and gave it a gentle squeeze and a pat, and a final murmur to seal the charm. “…how they’ve managed to survive, if they truly are descendants of the witches. All these centuries, across all the courts.”

“And you think these people might have lived in Velaris? In the court that not even Amarantha could penetrate?”

She shrugged. “Don’t discount the magic of the Lesser Fae. They are not weak. They have the greatest wellspring of abilities in all of Prythian, though it’s not concentrated into individuals the way it is for High Fae. And these people can draw magic towards them; drain it out of those who wield their acquired powers. It’s not well documented, so who knows the full extent of what they could do? But it’s possible, especially in groups, that they could cross the borders of the courts. And if she was trying to frighten your mate, perhaps calling herself a witch would’ve done the trick.”

Lucien wanted to object, that Elain had likely no idea about witches beyond fireside folk tales, but something she had said surfaced, a drifting tangle of flotsam, tugging at his heart, silencing him.

Alive…but not in a way that you are, or I am. Like something that normally wouldn’t be able to talk. And it was angry.

Maybe it was part of the witch’s magic.

Old, and strong, and alive.

What had she spoken to, beneath the waters of the Sidra?

Who had she spoken to in the bobbing boats, before her fear had called him and he had come running in panic?

Nuan was talking to him again, breaking through the flailing of his worried mind.

“What?”

She let out a sigh of impatience. “I was asking if you’d talked to her about it at all. To Elain.” She offered him the eye in an outstretched hand, neatly pinched between finger and thumb. “Here you are, you rake. Good as new.”

He shook his head, and took the eye back, holding the socket open and pulling his scarred lower lid down to fit it inside. It resisted for a moment but then popped back into place, spun as though in indignation, and with a whirr resumed its function. His sight through it was cleaner, more balanced. Perhaps it had been blurred or distorted and he just hadn’t noticed.

“You haven’t?” She looked properly scandalized now, as though he’d admitted to sexual relations with a naga or something.

“It’s been a few days, and I haven’t seen her…”

“A few days since what?”

“Solstice. When she gave me this,” he said, pulling back his jacket so she could see the pin on his lapel.

Her eyes widened. “Does she know? About Jes?”

“Not unless she heard it from someone else. Her sister is a mind-reader, after all.” The words tasted bitter to him. It would be too disappointing, too crushing, to know that Feyre had whispered the contents of his mind to his mate. When he couldn’t even tell her the simplest thing: how much her regard bloomed him like one of her flowers under the noon sun.

Nuan tapped her fingers on the desk. “Perhaps she would prefer hearing it from you, even if the High Lady did tell her something.” She swiped her cloth over the surface, cleaning dust away so the wood gleamed under the bright light. “Maybe that’s her way of telling you that.”

He tried to grin, but it died on his face. “How would you know?”

She chuffed in exasperation. “How would you not know?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve bedded how many Fae over the past few centuries, and you still know nothing about women.”

“I know some things.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she smiled, but shook her head.

“You’re an idiot, Lucien. You won’t maintain contact. You won’t let her into your thoughts. You won’t ask her about her own.”

“I was giving her room…”

“Well, that’s nice, isn’t it. Maybe that was fine before. But now she’s speaking to you and giving you gifts. Making overtures. Can’t you at least write her a thank-you note?”

He thought about it for a moment. His words had failed him with Elain, time and again, when normally they flowed as easily as water with the direction of conversation. He’d never had trouble flirting; except with her. The words had faded into silence or been too weak to express what he truly thought.

Maybe writing would be better.

“Maybe I will, if I can find paper and pen,” he said, half to himself.

Nuan snapped her fingers in his face and pointed to a pen lying on the table top within arms’ reach. “Sometimes I fear you’ve lost your marbles, Lucien.” She opened a stone crock on the long counter by the window and pulled out some bread, slathering it with butter and a slice of honeycomb. With a wiggle of her fingers the massive mug filled with tea again and thumped unsteadily next to him. “Well. I have work to do and you have a mate to woo. It’ll be good practice for writing me letters, too.” She winked at him. “Tell her what you thought. What you felt. How you can’t stop thinking about her enough that you went to Dawn to ask your friend how to talk to her, for fuck’s sake.”

He burst out laughing. “Drown me in the Cauldron. I hope one day I can badger you about writing love letters to someone.”

Her face fell abruptly, settling back into lines he hadn’t noticed before. Her shoulders wilted into a slope. She looked like she had just picked up a massive, unyielding piece of stone.

“Nuan…” he extended a hand to her, getting up from the desk. “Nuan, I’m sorry…”

She shook her head firmly, but her voice, so arch and confident moments before, seemed to have dried up. She picked up the mug and took a long sip of the steaming tea, then held it tightly near her nose, breathing in the fragrant vapor, eyes closed. Lucien stood close, watching her, waiting. Helplessness solidifying in his veins. Tears shimmered in the corners of her eyes.

“Can I help?” he asked, heartbroken to see her suddenly in the grip of obvious pain.

She shook her head swiftly, then opened her eyes. “I’m well.”

“But —“

“I want you to know something, though,” she said, and there was a rigidity to her tone, an iron that he’d never heard before. “I love you and I’ll protect you to the bitter end, Lucien. But I want you to know that there was — is — a cost. You might never see it. I hope you never do. But be aware: there were lots of people who sacrificed for you without even knowing you.”

“Who was it?” He would make it up to her. Somehow.

“No. No, you don’t need to know that.” Her face cracked into a broken, small smile. “Just that they loved me. And because they loved me, they loved you. Even through Autumn vengeance, which never was selective enough to fall only on the target of their ire. Lord Beron casts a wide net. And I will not be silent about my own pain or theirs, not while I have breath. We loved you, and we shielded you, and that hurt us.”

His eyes widened. “My father came after you?”

She didn’t answer, just stared at the table. He didn’t know what to make of this. He had left Autumn, fled their cruel court with their murderous customs, would never go back or try to threaten the crown or the succession. Why would his father continue to pursue him across borders, come for his friends?

Maybe Beron didn’t need a reason. Thinking of the blood spreading under vibrant copper curls, dark eyes filming over with death, he knew that to be true. One more thing for the Vanserras to answer for. A dark bubble in his heart.

“Lucien?”

He reached out and took her hand.

“Just promise me that one day, when it matters, you’ll be better than all of them.”

“I…”

“Not just for yourself, but everyone else too.” Her dark eyes locked with his.

There was a lump in his throat. He squeezed her hand, and light glowed around their grip.

“I promise,” he said, gently, not knowing what she really meant, but feeling that this would help, that his word — which, so help him, he’d keep — would balm the hurt of her unspoken loss.

“Thank you.” She swiped roughly at her eyes. “Fuck…this anemometer isn’t going to build itself.” She bustled away, picking up a weight of bright copper and heading to the giant crucible in the back garden. Moments later he heard the crackle of flame stir to life beneath it.

He sat, pulling the paper towards him. Waited a moment, thinking.

Tell her what you thought. What you felt.

He bent over the paper, quill pen whispering.

—————-

He struggled with the letter all day, writing and tearing it up, balling the pieces into clumps and setting them alight with his fire until Nuan told him if he burned her workshop down, she’d never speak to him again. Finally, he had written something he felt was appropriate, although it came off too stilted. Just like when I speak to her, he thought grimly.

Elain, he had begun, simply. He had wondered if Dear Elain would be better, but the familiarity slickened his palms with sweat. What if she wasn’t ready to hear endearments from him?

He told her of the skimmers, and that they might be more powerful than he or she had suspected. I’m visiting the Dawn Court and came across some information I thought might be of interest…

But that wouldn’t do. What if Rhysand decided to open and read it? Or Nuala, or Cerridwen, or even Feyre, who was nosy enough for a whole squadron of spies?

He decided to bury it further in the text.

Elain — I wanted to pass along my thanks…

Fuck, no, that wasn’t right either. He wasn’t a schoolboy writing to a distant cousin.

“Stop sighing,” Nuan called in irritation from the next room, where her dinner sat forgotten as she worked on calculations for the winged harness in the courtyard. “If you can’t tell her in simple words how you feel, it won’t be worth saying at all.”

The hours spun away. Nuan went to bed finally, and he was alone in the kitchen with the faelight, and the little brass owl, whose eyes half-closed as the darkness fell like a shroud. He took the pen and paper over to the bed Nuan had made up on the wide sofa, sitting down on the clean sheets and trying to relax.

Elain — I feel badly that I left without thanking you properly for your gift on Solstice. You must think me very rude.

He breathed deeply, remembering how his stomach had knotted at the sight of the little hyraeth pin. He touched it absently at his lapel while he thought. It gleamed softly in the faelight, the lacquer shimmering along the amber surface.

I didn’t expect to receive a gift at all, and so I was taken aback, but further, I didn’t expect you to remind me so much of my past. It was so kind of you, it overwhelmed me. I knew a girl once who was a Guardian of the groves where the hyraeths live, you see — and our time together ended in tragedy.

Don’t end on the sad note, he thought desperately. Don’t let her think it grieved me…

But the words were finally flowing. He scrawled them as they came, unbound like the waves of dark that came with twilight.

But you made me think of her with less sadness. And you made me feel welcome in a place that has always challenged my ability to adapt. I don’t know if you meant it this way, but…

Tell her how you feel.

Tell her how you feel.

…you made me feel at home. Thank you, Blossom, from the bottom of this wicked heart.

I’ve been trying to think of a way to repay your kindness. Perhaps, in lieu of flowers or trinkets, a secret will do?

He flipped the page over and told her what he had learned of the skimmers, adding at the end, perhaps this could guide your research going forward, as you investigate your abilities and the promise you made that night. Although may I suggest avoiding consorting with witches? Or at the very least, staying away from the docks in future? I don’t know if MY nerves could handle it, although I’m sure yours could. You’re made of sterner stuff, after all. You have that Archeron iron.

He sat for a moment, eyes growing heavy. The faelight, hovering near his head, dimmed thoughtfully. He struggled to keep his eyes open, to write one more line…

I would like to come see you once I get back…

But sleep was weighing him down, dragging at his limbs…

…and hear what you make of all this…if you’d like to see me…

…Elain…

…Blossom…

But it was no good fighting it any longer.

Lucien was enveloped and swimming in darkness, struggling against the weight of it. It was formless. Depthless. He knew it well; and yet it frightened him. He’d been here before, so many times. Sleeping endlessly after his eye had been torn out, as his face slowly knit back together around the golden orb that replaced his natural eye. The pain of it ebbing and flowing, screaming into him when his face scrunched as he wept, receding to a dull throb as he sank again into despondency. Surfacing to see Tam sitting on the floor by his bed, fast asleep…but always, always pulling back down into darkness. Hearing the echoes of screams…his own…Jesminda’s…his mother’s…they all faded into the cottony silence of nothingness. Perhaps his own heartbeat would fade, eventually. He had hoped for that sometimes.

But now, the darkness wasn’t truly endless. It was forming into something. At first it was just a feeling, like the walls of a room enclosing a discrete space, and then it was actual sensation. The shift of the pile of a rug under his feet. The stiffness, slight creak of his leather boots against his shins and feet. The hum and chatter of voices in an adjacent room, broken by laughter. And then there was light. Golden, pooling light from a lamp, flooding the room with a gentle glow.

The River House.

He recognized the high ceilings, the open beams, the oak paneled walls. The playful spin of faelights from the recesses of the ceiling, giving a low glow to even darkened rooms.

And then a sweet voice. Melodious, if slightly tremulous. Nervous. Reaching as if across a long distance. But instead of just hearing babble, like the voices from the room close by, it formed into actual words.

“It made me think that you might someday find a place for your heart to rest.” A pause. “Unfathomable as that may be now.”

It was her. Dressed in shimmering lilac, with that little plum fur-lined jacket accentuating her waist, her long neck, her slender arms. Winter roses at her breast, where he had tried — and failed, spectacularly — not to look, at the pink edges against the swell of her flushed skin. She looked like an early summer day given a Fae form, here in the tightest grip of winter and dark. And in his hand, a tiny, glowing pin of bright amber, fashioned into wings that caught and refracted the light. His vision blurred with tears.

“How did you know?” he asked, the question that had bruised his heart for days.

She shifted, twisting her hands. “Know what?”

“This…” he gestured with it. “That I missed this. That I needed it.”

Her eyebrows creased into a worried expression. “I didn’t. But I read about the hyraeths, and it…it caught my mind. Reminded me of you.”

“I…” he swallowed. “It reminds me of my past. Good and…and bad things. My last day in Autumn, many years ago.” He thought about what he had written to her in that stumbling letter. What he had seen, that last day. The great hemlocks, blasted by fire. The Guardians, scorched and burned to dry husks. The hyraeths, dead in golden droplets on the ground, their wings stilled and dulled with death. And the darkness of her blood soaking the moss, congealing on the roots of the trees, which embraced her crumpled body like the hands of a mother…

“Yes,” she said, eagerly. “I wondered if perhaps you might want something to remind you of home.”

Yes. I did…but those memories are caught in pain, like blackberries grown with thorns, and you didn’t know that part. But oh, how sweet and tender it was that you tried. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “I don’t have a home anymore,” he said, his voice catching on the words.

“Perhaps you will, one day,” she said, and he saw her throat squeeze. “And then you can put down some of the weight you carry.”

He faltered, but continued, hoping to show her how much it meant that she had thought of him this way. “I think you understood me, Blossom. Better than you realized, perhaps. Thank you.”

He could feel the warmth radiating from her, this close. Closer than she’d ever been before…

She reached out and pointed at the pin. “May I?”

He handed it to her immediately. “By all means. Please.”

She fixed it to his lapel and fastened the clasp, then straightened it slightly, like a flower in a buttonhole. Both of her hands rested against his chest, the warmth bleeding through the fabric of his shirt. He knew it would end, the sweet drug of her touch…but she left her hands there, then flattened them so her palms faced down. He could feel the outline of every finger.

Her brown eyes stared into his. He had the sense that there were worlds behind them. For a moment, they were utterly silent.

“This is a dream,” he whispered.

She nodded, her gaze traveling down his neck to where the collar met the lapel of his jacket. The place where his collarbone dipped. He wasn’t sure what she was looking at, but then he heard a gentle hiss of breath, and realized she was scenting him. This former human girl, proper and shy, using her Fae senses to listen to him with not just those soft, pointed ears, but with her body. A dream indeed. So if she was indulging her Faeness, perhaps he could, too? It would be a bold step…if he was reckless enough to take it…

“Then…” — he couldn’t believe he might actually say it, might actually do this mad, presumptuous thing — “then can I…kiss you?”

Her eyes swept up to meet his again, the lashes surrounding them dark and fuzzy — almost as if her face was out of focus, except for her eyes. They were clear, and deep enough to drown in. “Did you want to? Is that why we’re back here? In the parlor, with the party next door?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “…so, so much.”

Her fingers tightened against the lapel of his jacket. Even closer than before. “It is only a dream, isn’t it?” she said, softly, half to herself.

“Yes…”

The tiniest of smiles, the barest twitch of those beautiful lips. “I wish you would.”

And their lips met, so gently, that even as they shared breath he wondered how this could be real, and at the same time how it couldn’t be real. Her lips were so soft and warm beneath his, the whisper of a touch — and the tightness in his chest grew to nigh-unbearable tension as the bond behind his ribs squeezed, trying its hardest to pull them together. He was breathless.

It was Elain who leaned forward, and increased their contact as she tilted her head up, pressing more firmly against him. The kiss broke briefly as they adjusted their stance; she slipped closer, her feet between his, standing on tiptoes, and gripped his lapels in her hands, drawing his face down to hers, where their lips could meet and caress, sliding over one another to fit together. He hesitantly put his hands underneath her jawbone, so delicate, and pulled her into him; she lost her balance a bit and tipped forward, and he caught her around her waist. They stared into each other’s eyes, and something ignited in the depths. He fancied he could see it, like the flare of a match or the flicker of a candle, and he plunged after it, chased it down, down, into another kiss and then another, growing clumsy as he became more ardent. Her mouth opened, her tongue shy against his, one arm winding around his neck as her other hand stroked his cheek and gentled him, bringing their mouths together with a tenderness that ached in his lungs, in every breath he drew.

They broke apart, breaths serrated and hands shaking; but she held on to him tightly, pulling herself into his embrace. He didn’t want to lose any of the warmth between them, or the urgent flare of her scent, the intoxicating sweetness of summer flowers.

“They might see us,” she whispered. He felt a possessiveness flare in his gut; he would strike, stab, fight to keep this moment sacrosanct, just between the two of them.

“Who?” he strained. But as soon as he asked, he knew what she meant, and immediately felt the darkness starting to gather, talons gleaming, like it might contain a million interested eyes and ears.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” she murmured, her nose gliding against his. “Somewhere we can really be alone.”

She stepped back and seized his hand, drawing him on toward the sweeping staircase; but it seemed more open than before, the ceiling receding upwards until it was almost gone into a great vault. The bannister became rougher and more knobby under his hand, like the trunk of a tree, and he felt like if he looked back, nothing of the River House would be there anymore.

She stopped in front of a door, wound about with vines that stirred in an invisible breeze, and ducked inside, pulling him with her.

“Where are we?” he breathed, conscious of the vines, heavy with glossy leaves and flowers — and wicked, long thorns — crowding into the space left by the door.

“My place,” she answered, and walked to the window. “My secret.” She pulled the curtain back, and the room filled with bright light. When his eyes adjusted, he saw the air filled with flowers and birds and butterflies, drifting lazily around pillars of knotted vines and trunks. Fields of billowing grasses, bright-green against the sun. White cliffs, in the distance. Riotous flowering plants everywhere he looked.

“It’s safe here. Sunny. Bright. I made it myself. I wanted a place that no one could see but me. I would come here when everything seemed dark and I thought I would never feel happy again.” She took a breath. “I liked resting here.” She seemed a little fluttery herself, a little shaky, just like the tremulous wings of the butterflies. “If you don’t like it we can go somewhere else…”

“I love it,” he interrupted, heart swelling painfully inside him. “You gave yourself a garden to grow in.”

She smiled, and a ray of sun touched her face, and he stepped forward and kissed those warm lips, hands sliding into her hair; they stood, swaying in the breeze, light with a heady buzz of joy. He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up, and turned around, looking for an open spot to set her down, to kiss her and touch her, to find out if her skin was as silken and sweet against his lips as he had imagined so many times. She held him tight, her face snug against his neck. He plunked her down onto a little sward of long grass that bent into a plush mattress, and he swore he heard a distant silvery giggle. Vines swam around them, growing to shield them, forming a loose lattice that the light could peek through. It laced over her flushed face. He slid his hand from her ankle to her knee, pushing her skirt up so he could grip her leg, bringing it up into a cradle that circled him with heat beating out of her skin. She cradled his face, staring at him, and he pressed against her, her legs locking around him to keep him close. He stroked her curls back from her neck, dragged his fingers over her throat as her eyes fluttered closed.

“Do you know what I can’t stop thinking of?” he murmured against her pulse, which raced as he spoke. “Not that you’re beautiful…” Her eyes snapped open, almost indignantly, and he felt a smile lift his lips. “You are, of course. Stunning. But you’re also…delicious.” He inhaled slowly, feeling her scent flood his nose and mouth. “I crave your…sweetness. It’s in my blood, my brain, my body…” he ground against her, relishing the little gasp she let out. “…and I want that taste, of you, in my mouth so badly, I almost go fucking mad.” He pulled the roses from her bodice and cast them aside, the soft swells of her breasts heaving as he slid his fingers under the hem of the little jacket. He was desperate to touch and also to extend, so that it would never end…

But what was that bite of cold that chilled the back of his neck?

Her fingers tightened, nails digging into his skin. “What’s happening?” She sounded so sad. It wrenched his heart, which wrenched at the bond in turn. “It’s never cold in here.”

He could feel cool fabric — sheets — under his hands, and fought the sensation. No, no. He wanted her skin, that warm softness…to stay here until everything else was forgotten, to drown in her and awake with hope renewed…

“I think I’m…waking up,” he gasped.

“No.” It came out as a sob. “No, Lucien. Don’t go.”

“Fuck,” he croaked, but he could sense himself slipping away, a sensation as acute and unstoppable as if he were physically sliding down a steep incline.

“Wait…”

“I’ll come back,” he promised, leaning against her for one more kiss, one more taste of her sweet breath. “I swear it, Blossom, if you’ll let me in, I’ll meet you here. Call me from your dreams, and I’ll come.” He could hear his voice echoing. Was he saying it aloud?

He didn’t hear if she said anything in response; he was awake, sitting upright in sweat-cooled sheets in Nuan’s house, darkness enveloping the entire room.

The tears that came were searing and salty, flooding through him so fast and fully that they could have been the Sidra cresting to catch him under the mad wave that had chased him onto its banks that night that he and Elain had saved each other. They felt like heart’s blood, benediction and loss. Falling into a void like the great encircling river of the creation myth.

He wept enough to fill it with a sea of sorrow.

[villainsimpqueen]

QUEENS FANCLAN LORE: MIRE’LOK (marshland Na'vi)

Please do not steal my lore

Please ask to use any ideas from my lore or to make Ocs of my fanclans.

Minors & Ageless accounts do not interact with my pages.

Origins:

Were descendants of the Rivonyk who traveled more inland streamed finding a humid jungle and continued onward until the jungle opened up to healthy lushful marshlands. There they adapted to blend into the marshlands and jungle becoming their own people, which became the Mire’lok. They formed many tribes within the marshlands and jungle making both their vast home. 

Physical Traits:

-Elong limbs such as arms and legs, tail and queues, they become more thin like, having more muscle build than fat.

-There's tails being meaty at the base and sliding down to a narrow tip with a fin-like structure at the end. 

- skin tones changing to deeper hues of greens, teals and on rare occasions having morphs of bright greens and blues. 

-Patterns becoming more snake-like patterns, specifically python and constrictor base like patterns.

- Eyes have variant pupils, they can have slit eye pupils or they can have round eye pupils. 

Eye color can be bright greens, yellows with morphs having bright oranges and reds.

-Ears becoming smaller and closer to the head, with a protective skin flap that will cover their ear drums to keep water out of their ears.

-Noses being flat but with larger nostrils that help with the humid air. 

Clan structure: Tribes

The Mire'lok are scattered throughout the jungle and marshland in tribes, each tribe having a leader or guardian and a consultant or Tsahik.

The tribes would be made up of 20-30 individuals where young adults would leave to survive the lands on their own before meeting up with others their age and forming newer tribe's.

The eldest of the groups would become the Guardian of the tribe and their mate being the tribes Tsahik. 

Tribe Roles.

Guardian- The leader of the tribe, their soley responsibilities are to protect the tribe from dangers. Building relationships of other tribes to form trade or safe travel. 

They may also be the first generation of the tribes parent, for they may mate with all members of the forming tribe and have children as a was to show promise to them having a strong need to protect the tribe and have best interest for the tribe, for many of the tribe members are raising his or hers children. 

Consultant/ Tsahik- They are responsible for performing rituals and healing the sick. They are also responsible in tribe matters such as disputes,guidance and Spirituality. 

Hunters/ gathers

-Hunters- They are individuals who go into the jungle to hunt animals and bring the tribe a diverse variety of meats to enjoy. 

-Fishers- They are responsible to supply the tribe with bountiful fish, they fish with nets and spears.

Gatherers- They are a split group of individuals, Half of them will gather in the jungles finding vines, flora, bones and any other resource needed for the tribe.

Marshland gatherers will gather reeds, shells, scales, and other resources to bring to the tribe. 

Tsahík Gathers- Are one or two individuals who take the honored task of only gathering for the Tsahík. They will bring the Tsahík flora used in medicinal and ritual use as well as bones, crystals and shells.

Cafters- There the builders, crafters and artisans of the tribe.

They will be responsible in making the hunting tools such as spears, and netting.

The comforts which are clothing, wrapping, blankets and baskets, pouches.

They are the ones who will build small boats or rafts for the tribes. 

Teachers/ Mentors- They aid the tribe by helping parents raise and educate their children. They will also teach each child the Roles of the Tribe and will find which Role would the child perform until they leave the tribe, or if they stay in the tribe and continue that Role.

Learners& Mentees-

Learners are children who are too young to help in a role. They are focused on being children, playing and learning from their parents and teachers. 

Mentees- Are children who are now aiding the tribe by taking a role in the tribe. They are dealt with patience and any hard accomplishment made should be celebrated.

Ceremonies & Rituals:

Ceremonies and rituals play a significant role in the lives of the Marshland Na'vi, reflecting their deep connection to the unique environment and its ecosystem. Here are some potential ceremonies and rituals they might have:

  Naming Ceremony:  

  Description:   A rite of passage for newborns, where the clan gathers to name the child. 

  Details:  

-   Location:   Near a sacred tree or at a special marshland site.

-   Rituals:   Parents present the child to the clan, and the Tsahík or Olo'eyktan gives the child a name believed to be chosen by Eywa.

-   Symbols:   Use of bioluminescent plants and flowers to adorn the child.

The child would then be placed into a woven basket and floated among the tribe where all will place gifts and flora of protection for the small child as they sing chants and prayer so that the child will be safe from sickness.

       . Harvest Festival:  

  Description:   Celebrating the abundance of the marshlands, this festival is held during peak harvesting times.

  Details:  

-   Location:   In the heart of the marsh, where resources are plentiful.

-   Rituals:   Singing, dancing, and sharing food. Special thanks are given to Eywa for the bounty.

-   Symbols:   Decorations with harvested reeds, flowers, and bioluminescent plants.

       . Mating Ritual:  

  Description:   A ceremony where mates publicly declare their bond.

  Details:  

-   Location:   At a sacred water body or marsh clearing.

-   Rituals:   Exchange of woven garlands and a dance symbolizing their union. They might also submerge themselves in water to signify purity and unity.

-   Symbols:   Garlands made from marsh flora and scales and shells..

        Mourning Ritual:  

  Description:   Honoring the deceased and ensuring their spirit joins Eywa.

  Details:  

When one is dead they will build a small boat and place the dead inside and loved ones will fill it with final deaths. 

-   Rituals:   Songs and chants to guide the spirit, offerings of personal belongings, and then pushed out of the marshlands down a stream that will merge into a mighty river so that their body may make its way to Pandora's Ocean where they will join ewyas arms and be found in all bodies of water.

-   Symbols:   Use of bioluminescent materials to light the way for the spirit, Others written with dyes on the boat by the Tsahik to protect the spirit from harmful ones.

       . Renewal Ceremony:  

  Description:   Celebrating the cyclical nature of life and the renewal of the marshes.

Dancing in the rain, taking showers under the first downpour and planting moss on their boats.

  Details:  

-   Location:   At the onset of the rainy season.

-   Rituals:   Cleansing rituals involving water, collective planting of new marsh flora, and dances that mimic the flow of water.

-   Symbols:   Water motifs and patterns, use of fresh marsh plants.

       Healing Ritual:  

  Description:   A ceremony for the sick or injured to seek Eywa’s healing.

  Details:  

-   Location:   At a designated healing pool or grove.

-   Rituals:   Use of marsh herbs and medicinal plants, chants, and the presence of healers and the Tsahík.

-   Symbols:   Healing totems and symbols of health and vitality.

These ceremonies and rituals not only strengthen the Marshland Na'vi's bond with their environment but also reinforce their cultural values and communal ties.

Courting:

Courting among the Marshland Na'vi is a deeply respectful and meaningful process, rich with tradition and symbolic gestures. It involves not just the two individuals, but also their families and the wider community. Here’s how the courting process might be structured:

       Initial Interest:  

       1. Subtle Signals:  

-   Glances and Gestures:   Courting often begins with subtle glances, smiles, and gestures, showing mutual interest without overt displays.

-   Gifts from Nature:   Small gifts such as beautifully woven baskets, intricately carved trinkets, or rare flowers from the marshlands can be given to show affection.

       First Steps:  

       1. Seeking Approval:  

-   Family Involvement:   Before the courtship progresses, it is customary for the interested individual to seek approval from their family. This demonstrates respect for family bonds and traditions.

-   Elder Consultation:   Often, the suitor will also seek the advice of village elders or the Tsahík to ensure that their intentions align with cultural practices and spiritual beliefs.

       2. Invitation:  

-   Joint Activities:   The suitor may invite the object of their affection to join them in communal activities, such as fishing, gathering, or participating in rituals, providing opportunities for bonding.

       Courting Rituals:  

      1. Symbolic Acts:  

-   Braiding Hair:   One traditional act of courtship might involve the suitor offering to braid the other's hair with specially selected beads and crystals, symbolizing their intention to weave their lives together.

-   Firefly Dance:   Another ritual could involve a dance during the evening when the marsh is aglow with bioluminescent fireflies, symbolizing the light they bring into each other's lives.

      2. Shared Tasks:  

-   Building and Crafting:   Working together on communal projects, such as building a shelter or crafting tools, showcases their ability to collaborate and support each other.

-   Harvesting Together:   Collecting food or medicinal plants together signifies a willingness to share responsibilities and provide for one another.

       Deeper Connection:  

       1. Personal Stories:  

-   Storytelling Evenings:   Sharing personal stories, dreams, and aspirations around a communal fire strengthens emotional bonds and allows both individuals to understand each other's values and life goals.

-   Songcord Exchange:   Creating and exchanging songcords that tell the stories of their lives and their relationship symbolizes their deepening connection.

       2. Private Moments:  

-   Quiet Time in Nature:   Spending quiet moments together in the serene parts of the marsh, away from the bustling village, allows for private conversations and deeper emotional connection.

-   Spiritual Connection:   Participating in meditative practices or seeking guidance from Eywa together enhances their spiritual bond.

       Community Acknowledgment:  

       1. Public Declarations:  

-   Formal Announcement:   Once both individuals feel ready, they make a formal announcement of their courtship to their families and the community, often during a communal gathering or ceremony.

-   Blessing from the Tsahík:   Receiving a blessing from the Tsahík signifies the community's acceptance and support of their relationship.

     2. Celebration:  

-   Feast and Dance:   The announcement is often followed by a feast and dance, celebrating the new bond and welcoming the couple's union into the community.

-   Gift Exchange:   Families and friends exchange gifts with the couple, symbolizing their support and blessing for the future.

       Betrothal and Beyond:  

       1. Betrothal Ceremony:  

-   Promise Exchange:   A formal betrothal ceremony where the couple exchanges promises and gifts that signify their commitment to each other.

-   Community Support:   The community gathers to witness and support the betrothal, reinforcing the societal bonds that will sustain the couple.

      2. Preparation for Union:  

-   Building a Home:   The couple, along with their families, may start preparing a home where they will live together after their union.

-   Learning Roles:   The couple spends time learning the specific roles and responsibilities they will take on as partners in life and within 

  Pre-Mating Rituals:  

       1. Deepening Bond:  

-   Tsahik’s Blessing:   The couple seeks the blessing of the Tsahik, who provides guidance and ensures their union aligns with Eywa's will.

-   Private Time in Nature:   The couple spends significant time in nature, meditating and seeking a deeper connection with each other and Eywa.

       2. Preparing the Community:  

-   Announcement of Intent:   The couple announced their intent to mate permanently to their families and the community during a communal gathering.

-   Community Support:   Families and community members offer their blessings, advice, and support, preparing for the upcoming ceremony.

       Mating Ceremony:  

       1. Location:  

-   Sacred Site:   The ceremony takes place at a sacred site within the marshlands, often beneath a Tsawmakto (Mossy Marsh Tree) or near a bioluminescent pond.

-   Decorations:   The area is decorated with flowers, woven banners, and bioluminescent plants to create a magical and sacred atmosphere.

       2. Ceremony:  

-   Tsahik’s Role:   The Tsahik leads the ceremony, invoking Eywa and blessing the union. The Tsahik may also use bioluminescent water and sacred herbs to purify the couple.

-   Vows Exchange:   The couple exchanged vows, promising to support, love, and honor each other for life. They may also exchange symbolic gifts, such as intricately carved tokens or woven bands.

      3. Tsaheylu (Bonding):  

-   Neural Connection:   The couple performs Tsaheylu, the neural connection, by linking their queues (neural braids), symbolizing their deep emotional and spiritual bond.

-   Communal Witnessing:   The community witnesses this sacred moment, reinforcing the importance of their union within the tribe.

       Post ceremony:  

       1. Feasting and Dancing:  

-   Communal Feast:   The ceremony is followed by a communal feast, with abundant food and drink, celebrating the new union.

-   Traditional Dances:   Traditional dances are performed, with the couple joining in, symbolizing their integration into the community as a mated pair.

       2. Gift Giving:  

-   Community Gifts:   Community members present gifts to the couple, such as crafted items, tools, or materials for building their home.

-   Couple’s Gratitude:   The couple expresses their gratitude to the community, often through speeches or shared songs.

       Life as a Mated Pair:  

      1. Establishing a Home:  

-   Building Together:   The couple works together to build their home, often with help from family and friends, creating a space that reflects their bond.

-   Shared Responsibilities:   They share responsibilities in daily life, from gathering food to raising children, supporting each other in all aspects.

       2. Continuing Growth:  

-   Ongoing Bonding:   The couple continues to strengthen their bond through shared experiences, spiritual practices, and regular Tsaheylu.

-   Elder Guidance:   They seek guidance from elders and the Tsahik as they navigate challenges and grow together.

       Raising a Family:  

      1. Children’s Blessing:  

-   Ceremonial Blessing:   When children are born, they are blessed by the Tsahik, and their birth is celebrated by the community.

-   Parental Roles:   Both parents take active roles in raising and educating their children, teaching them the tribe's values, traditions, and survival skills.

      2. Community Involvement:  

-   Shared Parenting:   The community plays a significant role in child-rearing, ensuring that children grow up in a supportive and nurturing environment.

-   Mentorship:   Elders and experienced tribe members act as mentors, passing down knowledge and wisdom to the younger generation.

       Spiritual Continuity:  

       1. Connection to Eywa:  

-   Spiritual Practices:   The couple engages in regular spiritual practices, such as meditation and rituals, to maintain a strong connection to Eywa.

-   Teaching Children:   They teach their children the importance of Eywa and guide them in developing their own spiritual practices.

       2. Legacy:  

-   Passing on Traditions:   The couple ensures that their cultural heritage and traditions are passed down to future generations, maintaining the tribe's identity and values.

-   Elders’ Role:   As they age, they take on roles as elders, providing guidance and support to younger tribe members.

       Significance of Mating:  

     1. Sacred Union:  

-   Lifelong Bond:   Mating is seen as a lifelong bond that goes beyond the physical, encompassing emotional, spiritual, and communal aspects.

-   Respect and Honor:   The couple's union is respected and honored by the entire community, reinforcing the tribe's cohesion and values.

      2. Cultural Continuity:  

-   Tradition Preservation:   The mating process and associated rituals preserve and strengthen the tribe's cultural traditions and identity.

-   Community Strength:   The strong bonds formed through mating contribute to the overall strength and unity of the community.

Mating among the Marshland Na'vi is a deeply sacred and communal process that reinforces their values, spiritual beliefs, and social structure. It is a celebration of love, commitment, and the interconnectedness of all life.

Fashion: 

       Materials:  

       1. Natural Fibers:  

-   Aquatic Plant Fibers:   Lightweight and water-resistant fibers from aquatic plants like reeds and water lilies are used for creating foot wrappings.

-   Fish Skin and Scales:   Fish skins are treated and used for additional durability and flexibility in foot wrappings.

       2. Animal Products:  

-   Animal Skins:   Skins from local animals, such as amphibians or smaller aquatic creatures, are used for their flexibility and strength.

       Footwear:  

     1. Foot Wrappings:  

-   Design:   Foot wrappings are made from natural, flexible materials like aquatic plant fibers or treated animal skins. They are designed to provide protection and support while being lightweight and water-resistant.

-   Usage:   These wrappings are primarily used during cooler weather or rough terrain. They are easily adjustable to fit various foot sizes and shapes, and can be quickly removed or adjusted as needed.

-   Style:   Wrappings are typically minimalist, often resembling wide bands or strips that are wrapped around the feet and secured with simple ties or fastenings.

       Accessories:  

      1. Jewelry:  

-   Shell and Scale Jewelry:   Necklaces, bracelets, and earrings made from shells, fish scales, and animal bones, often symbolizing achievements or clan affiliation.

-   Waterproof Beads:   Beads made from waterproof materials, woven into hair or worn as anklets and wristlets.

       2. Hair Decorations:  

-   Sleek Styles:   Hair is kept sleek and tied back or braided to reduce drag in the water, often adorned with waterproof beads and small charms.

-   Waterproof Headdresses:   For special occasions, headdresses made from woven reeds, feathers, and bioluminescent plants are worn.

       Colors and Patterns:  

      1. Natural Palette:  

-   Earth and Water Tones:   Clothing and accessories feature shades of green, blue, brown, and gray, reflecting the marshland environment.

-   Natural Dyes:   Colors are derived from local plants and minerals, providing a natural and sustainable palette.

     2. Symbolic Patterns:  

-   Nature-Inspired Designs:   Patterns mimic natural elements such as water ripples and textures of local flora and fauna, symbolizing their connection to the marshland environment.

       Seasonal Variations:  

      1. Wet Season:  

-   Waterproof Layers:   Extra layers made from treated plant fibers and animal skins provide protection from the rain and dampness.

-   Hoods and Capes:   Lightweight hoods and capes to protect from the rain while allowing easy movement.

       2. Dry Season:  

-   Lightweight Fabrics:   Minimalist, breathable fabrics keep the wearer cool and comfortable during the hotter, drier months.

-   Sun Protection:   Broad-brimmed hats made from reeds and light shawls protect against the sun's rays.

       Function and Adaptability:  

       1. Practicality:  

-   Durable Construction:   Clothing is designed to withstand the challenges of the marshland environment, including constant moisture, mud, and rough vegetation.

-   Ease of Movement:   Garments are tailored for swimming and maneuvering small boats, ensuring they do not hinder movement.

       2. Adaptability:  

-   Multi-Use Items:   Many clothing items serve multiple purposes, such as wraps that double as blankets or makeshift shelters.

-   Adjustable Features:   Clothing often includes adjustable ties and fastenings to accommodate changes in weather and activity levels.

       Cultural Significance:  

      1. Identity and Status:  

-   Clan Affiliation:   Clothing and accessories often indicate clan affiliation, with specific colors and patterns unique to each group.

-   Social Status:   The intricacy and quality of garments can signify social status, achievements, and roles within the tribe.

       2. Spiritual Connection:  

-   Symbolic Elements:   Many elements of fashion have spiritual significance, connecting the wearer to Eywa and the natural world.

-   Ritual Importance:   Special garments and accessories are reserved for rituals, enhancing their sacred nature and the wearer's role in the ceremony.

Animals:

       Marshland Animals  

1.   Yilmar  :

   -   Description:   Large, amphibious creature with a streamlined body, covered in smooth, slippery scales. They have webbed feet and a long, prehensile tail used for balance and steering in water.

   -   Behavior:   Primarily aquatic, but can move on land for short distances. They are carnivorous and feed on smaller fish and amphibians.

2.   Lurri  :

   -   Description:   A large, wading bird with long, slender legs and a sharp, curved beak. They have vibrant plumage with colors that blend into the marshland vegetation.

   -   Behavior:   They use their beak to forage for insects and small aquatic creatures in the mud and shallow water.

3.   Wyl'kor  :

   -   Description:   A medium-sized, amphibious mammal with a sleek body covered in fur and scales. They have large, webbed feet and a long, flat tail.

   -   Behavior:   Social creatures that live in family groups. They are excellent swimmers and are known for their playful behavior in the water.

4.   Tsyr'nak  :

   -   Description:   A venomous, serpentine creature with a sleek, sinuous body covered in iridescent scales. They have a pair of retractable fangs and are highly agile.

   -   Behavior:   Predatory and primarily nocturnal. They hunt small mammals, birds, and amphibians, using their venom to subdue prey.

5.   Nyr’xil  :

   -   Description:   A sleek, reptilian predator with a long, agile body and sharp, retractable claws. Their scales are camouflaged to blend into the jungle undergrowth.

   -   Behavior:   Highly stealthy and solitary. They use their camouflage and speed to ambush prey, often striking from a hidden position.

       Jungle Animals  

1.   Xavok  :

   -   Description:   A large, arboreal predator resembling a cross between a jaguar and a panther. It has retractable claws and powerful limbs adapted for climbing.

   -   Behavior:   Solitary and territorial, Xavok is an apex predator in the jungle, using stealth and speed to hunt larger prey.

2.   Kyr'u  :

   -   Description:   A small, vibrant tree-dwelling mammal with a prehensile tail and large, expressive eyes. Their fur is often covered in bioluminescent patches.

   -   Behavior:   Herbivorous and primarily nocturnal. They feed on fruits and leaves and use their bioluminescence to communicate and navigate the jungle canopy.

3.   Rylat  :

   -   Description:   A massive, slow-moving herbivore with a thick, armored hide and long, curved tusks. They have a trunk-like appendage used to pull down branches.

   -   Behavior:   Grazes on leaves and fruit. They travel in herds and use their tusks to fend off predators and clear paths through dense vegetation.

4.   Vrahl  :

   -   Description:   A large, insectoid creature with a chitinous exoskeleton and multiple limbs. They have glowing, bioluminescent markings that change color based on their mood.

   -   Behavior:   Social and highly organized, living in colonies. They are scavengers and use their bioluminescence to communicate and coordinate activities within their hive.

5.   Nyr’xil  :

   -   Description:   A sleek, reptilian predator with a long, agile body and sharp, retractable claws. Their scales are camouflaged to blend into the jungle undergrowth.

   -   Behavior:   Highly stealthy and solitary. They use their camouflage and speed to ambush prey, often striking from a hidden 

       Marshland Plants  

1.   Tsawkelun  :

   -   Description:   A large, water-loving plant with broad, heart-shaped leaves that float on the surface of the water. The leaves have a waxy coating to repel excess moisture.

   -   Uses:   Provides shelter and food for various aquatic creatures. Its leaves and stems are used in traditional crafts and as natural water filters.

2.   Myrniss  :

   -   Description:   A creeping vine with thick, fleshy leaves that are resistant to waterlogging. It produces small, fragrant flowers that bloom in clusters.

   -   Uses:   The leaves can be used for medicinal purposes, and the flowers are used in rituals and as natural dyes.

3.   Zyrek Root  :

   -   Description:   A sturdy, underground root with a bulbous shape. It has tough, fibrous skin and produces a sweet, starchy substance.

   -   Uses:   Consumed as a food source and used in traditional medicine for its energizing properties.

4.   Hyrla Fern  :

   -   Description:   A large fern with wide, feathery fronds that thrive in the wet, shady conditions of the marshland. It has a vibrant green color.

   -   Uses:   Provides cover for small animals and is used in weaving mats and baskets.

5.   Veshra Grass  :

   -   Description:   Tall, reed-like grass with flexible stems that bend with the wind. It has a thick root system that stabilizes the marshy soil.

   -   Uses:   Used for construction of simple structures and for making strong, flexible ropes.

       Jungle Plants  

1.   Lumetia Orchid  :

   -   Description:   A striking, bioluminescent orchid with large, glowing flowers that emit a soft light. It grows on the trunks of large trees and has a sweet fragrance.

   -   Uses:   Its light helps guide creatures and Na'vi through the dense jungle at night. Flowers are used in ceremonial decorations.

2.   Rilkor Vine  :

   -   Description:   A thick, woody vine with large, dark green leaves and small, edible berries. It has a strong, twisting growth pattern.

   -   Uses:   The berries are a source of food, and the vine’s fibers are used for crafting and climbing.

3.   Kylin Tree  :

   -   Description:   A massive, ancient tree with a wide canopy of broad, leathery leaves. It has a thick trunk covered in a rough, bark-like texture.

   -   Uses:   Provides shelter and food for many jungle creatures. Its leaves and bark are used in traditional medicine and for making large canopies.

4.   Syril Blossom  :

   -   Description:   A small, flowering plant with brightly colored petals that change hue based on the time of day. It has a strong, musky aroma.

   -   Uses:   Used for attracting pollinators and as a natural insect repellent. Its petals are used in beauty and health rituals.

5.   Talvir Fern  :

   -   Description:   A large, shade-tolerant fern with long, drooping fronds. It has a rich, emerald green color and thrives in the dense jungle understory.

   -   Uses:   Provides ground cover and protection for smaller plants and animals. Its fronds are used in weaving and construction.

Spirit tree:

  Tsawmakto (Mossy Marsh Tree)  

       Description:  

The Tsawmakto is a majestic, moss-covered tree situated in the heart of the marshlands, often found on isolated, elevated patches of land known as marsh pads. Its presence creates a focal point in the landscape, providing essential ecological benefits and holding significant cultural value for the Marshland Na'vi.

       Physical Characteristics:  

       1. Trunk:  

-   Height:   Reaches up to 20 meters, making it a prominent landmark.

-   Diameter:   About 4-6 meters wide, giving it a solid and imposing appearance.

-   Texture:   Covered in thick layers of soft, spongy moss that hold moisture and support various small plants.

-   Color:   Dark brown with patches of vibrant green moss and bioluminescent lichen that glow faintly at night.

       2. Roots:  

-   Structure:   Extensive root system, some submerged in the water and others forming a network above ground.

-   Marsh Pads:   Roots elevate parts of the tree’s base, creating small, stable islands of dry ground in the marsh.

       3. Leaves:  

-   Shape:   Large, oval leaves with a slightly serrated edge, adapted to capture sunlight and shed water efficiently.

-   Color:   Deep green with a matte finish and subtle bioluminescent veins visible at night.

-   Arrangement:   Form a dense canopy that provides ample shade and habitat.

       4. Branches:  

-   Structure:   Thick, gnarled branches that spread wide, creating a sprawling crown.

-   Epiphytes:   Home to various epiphytes, including hanging moss, ferns, and bioluminescent flowers.

      5. Flowers:  

-   Appearance:   Small, delicate flowers that bloom in clusters along the branches.

-   Color:   Soft hues of blue and white with bioluminescent centers that attract nocturnal pollinators.

-   Pollination:   Primarily by insects and small nocturnal creatures.

       6. Fruits:  

-   Appearance:   Small, berry-like fruits that dangle from the branches.

-   Color:   Start green and mature to a deep purple.

-   Use:   Edible, with a mildly sweet flavor, consumed by both Na'vi and wildlife.

       Ecological Role:  

       1. Habitat:  

-   Biodiversity:   Provides a habitat for a wide range of species, including amphibians, insects, birds, and small mammals.

-   Shelter:   Its branches and mossy trunk offer protection and nesting sites.

       2. Water Filtration:  

-   Roots:   Help to filter and purify the surrounding water, maintaining the health of the marsh.

       3. Soil Stabilization:  

-   Root System:   Anchors the soil, preventing erosion and creating stable ground in the marshlands.

       Cultural Significance:  

      1. Spiritual Connection:  

-   Sacred Tree:   Considered sacred, often serving as a site for rituals and ceremonies.

-   Symbol:   Represents resilience, life, and the nurturing power of nature.

      2. Practical Uses:  

-   Materials:   Moss and bark used for crafting and building; roots harvested for tools and structures.

-   Medicine:   Various parts used in traditional remedies for their healing properties.

-   Food:   Fruits provide a nutritious source of sustenance.

       Additional Features:  

     1. Bioluminescence:  

-   Purpose:   Attracts pollinators and provides natural light in the marshlands at night.

-   Aesthetics:   Creates a beautiful, glowing centerpiece, particularly striking during the evening.

      2. Symbiotic Relationships:  

-   Fauna:   Hosts animals that aid in pollination and seed dispersal.

-   Flora:   Supports other plants that grow on or around it, fostering a diverse ecosystem.

The Tsawmakto, with its moss-covered trunk and bioluminescent features, stands as a beacon of life and balance in the marshlands. It serves not only as an ecological cornerstone but also as a cultural and spiritual hub for the Marshland Na'vi.

  Impact of Meteor Strikes on the Marshlands and Jungle  

Tragedy 

The Mire'lok would experience a great Tragedy when meteorites came crashing down from the skies plaguing the Marshlands and Jungle with exploding meteorite's damaging and forever changing their homelands.

       1. Jungle Transformation  

     Impact and Immediate Effects:  

-   Meteor Strikes:   Upon impact, the meteorites caused massive fires and shockwaves, decimating the dense jungle. The initial explosions uprooted trees, shattered the canopy, and sent ash and debris into the air.

-   Destruction:   The high temperatures from the impacts ignited widespread fires that burned through the rich vegetation and forest floor, turning vibrant, green jungles into a wasteland of charred trees and smoldering ruins.

     Long-Term Changes:  

-   Dead Forest:   Over time, the once-lush jungle transformed into a bleak, dead forest. The surviving trees, scorched and stripped of their foliage, stood as stark, skeletal remnants. These trees became brittle and eventually fell, their remains turning into a crumbling layer of ash and decay.

-   Ash and Dust:   The intense fires and the subsequent erosion spread ash and soot across the land. The soil, once rich in nutrients, became a dry, ashen layer. The frequent winds carried fine particles across the landscape, creating vast fields of dust and forming a barren, sandy terrain.

-   Ecological Collapse:   The loss of flora led to the collapse of the jungle’s complex ecosystem. Without plant life to sustain them, many animal species perished, and the once vibrant jungle turned into a desolate, sandy wasteland, characterized by the skeletal remains of trees and patches of ash.

       2. Marshland Transformation  

     Impact and Immediate Effects:  

-   Meteor Strikes:   The meteorites impacted the marshlands with similar devastation, creating large craters and causing violent shockwaves. The initial impacts flooded the marshlands with molten rock and debris, killing many aquatic and semi-aquatic species.

-   Contamination:   The meteorites released toxic substances into the environment, contaminating the water and soil. The once-pristine waters of the marshlands became polluted with harmful chemicals and heavy metals.

     Long-Term Changes:  

-   Desiccation:   The impacts and subsequent contamination led to the drying up of the marshlands. The once-waterlogged terrain, rich with plant and animal life, turned into expansive fields of dust and ash. The remaining water sources evaporated or were tainted beyond recovery.

-   Formation of Desert:   Over time, the marshland transitioned into a vast, sandy desert. The once-moist, fertile grounds became arid, with persistent dust storms reshaping the landscape. The marshes' iconic reeds and water plants were replaced by barren stretches of sand and scattered ash.

-   Ecological Collapse:   The extinction of many marshland species left the ecosystem in ruins. The terrain became inhospitable, and the environmental changes contributed to the formation of a desert landscape with minimal remaining life.

       3. Mirelok Distinctions  

    Division and Migration:  

-   Travel to Dusty Lands:   Some Mirelok, adapted to the harsh, dry conditions, migrated towards the newly formed sandy desert. These Mirelok had to evolve to survive in the arid environment, developing traits to cope with the extreme heat and lack of water.

- Adaptation to Deserts:   The Mirelok in these regions adapted to the vast, dusty expanses, learning to find scarce resources and shelter amidst the sand. They became resilient to the harsh, desolate conditions of their new home.

  Movement to Contaminated Bogs:  

 Other Mirelok sought refuge in the remaining bogs and swamps, which were heavily contaminated by the meteor strikes. These Mirelok adapted to the polluted environments, developing resistance to toxins and evolving to survive in the toxic, unstable conditions.

     Adaptation and Survival:  

-   toxic Adaptations: Mirelok in the contaminated bogs evolved to handle the toxic substances in the water and soil. They developed specialized mechanisms to filter toxins and adapt to the altered chemical makeup of their habitat.

- Desert Adaptations: Mirelok in the desert evolved traits suited for survival in the arid, sandy landscape. They became adept at finding food and water in the harsh conditions, using their adaptations to thrive despite the challenging environment.

In summary, the meteor impacts caused catastrophic changes to both the jungle and marshlands. The jungle turned into a dead forest of withered trees and ash, while the marshlands became a vast desert of dust and sand. The Mirelok adapted to their new environments, with some finding refuge in the desert and others enduring the toxic bogs.

Evolution chains-

Starts of the Barren Land ancestors

&

Parluna'vi.

_________

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY LORE

PLEASE ASK TO USE MY IDEAS OR MAKE OCS TO MY FANCLANS

MINORS & AGELESS ACCOUNTS DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY PAGES!

[sbrn10]

If [Alicent is] being loyal, she’s more in these dark Hightower colors, and then at other moments, she’s in more teal tones.

And then we also played with a language within the embroidery. So this gown that she ends up wearing, the pattern on it is dragons breathing fire at each other, which is Aegon and Aemond, her children, ending up in this battle with each other. And then another gown’s embroidery is like tendrils of weeds and thorns — it’s to signify the trap that she’s created, of her own creation.

What about her outfit in the finale, when she has a secret meeting with Rhaenyra and she is hooded and covered up?

The two of them were meant to represent their earlier selves, so they’re in the same colors as they wore when we very first met them in Season 1 when Rhaenyra came off the dragon in a gray riding outfit and Alicent was in blue. Alicent is in a pale teal color when she rides out in the woods [in Episode 7] — she’s in a much more pale outfit than the true Hightower green.

...

What about Rhaenyra’s evolution?

... When she comes back from the Grand Sept [where she meets Alicent in Episode 3], the production wanted a different look. She’s changed her mindset, changed her look. So we go into a more Targaryen look, and the hemline is raised. And she’s always in boots. You don’t you don’t see them, necessarily, but she’s always in boots from then on, and then her looks are always suitable for jumping on a dragon.

Source: https://variety.com/2024/artisans/news/house-of-the-dragon-costume-designer-1236097446/amp/

[tilthedayidice]

hello, i’m hoping you can help… I’m looking for a dice recommendation for one of my oldest OCs. He’s an elven demon hunter and artificer with black hair, green eyes, pale skin, and severe facial scarring (missing one eye and an ear), and a bit of an Aragorn aesthetic in his travelling clothes. He also has a celestial gryphon companion, wears mithril scale mail under the unassuming ranger getup, and wields an ethereal sunblade. Chaotic good to the core, but absolutely not a people person. If I had to describe a vibe for some of the dice I’m hoping to find, I’m looking for something that has the aesthetic of golden dawn light shining through a snowy forest, or onto shards of ice.

Hi!!! That specific aesthetic is a little difficult to find so Imma find as many as I can, and also include some I think would fit them well!!!!

Dice Envy Submersible ($45) (sorry these are pricey but they instantly came to mind!): Brushed Copper metal swirled with a Blue Iridescent glitter enamel

Metallic Dice Games Layered Stardust ($15): Semi Opaque Yellow, White and Teal shimmery layer set with Silver ink

Udixi Green/Blue Acrylic Glitter Dice ($10): Translucent Blue, Green and Yellow Marble with Iridescent micro glitter and White Ink

Chessex Festive Garden ($16): Opaque White with Blue, Teal, Green, and Yellow Swirls and Blue ink

Little Dragon Corp Dice Tail ($18): Translucent Iridescent Light Violet with Pink, Yellow and Blue iridescent glitter and Swirls

Metallic Dice Games Astral Swell ($15): Translucent Cl;ear with Shimmery Iridescent Red and Blue Vapor swirls

Udixi Green/Orange Acrylic Glitter Dice ($10): Translucent Green and Orange Blend with iridescent micro glitter and White ink

Dark Elf Dice Artisan Dice ($13): Opaque Pearly White, Yellow, Red, Blue and Purple Blend set with Silver Ink (look i know these are a bit of a wild card but personally i fuckin love them)

[are-you-judd-enough]

Map provided by Plush Master Artisan @phoenix-lich. Thank you for your support.

You can submit your games to the blog! Pop the match code in an ask or a message and I'll add it to the queue!

[tactician]

even though i said i wasn't going to, i ended up shiny hunting for an all-shiny team to play through the new pokemon scarlet teal mask dlc! :D meet aske the gallade, chiyoh the sinistcha, syrup the dipplin, laz the munchlax, marrow the mandibuzz aaaand crossbun the heracross! i love this lil gang so much and am so hype to progress further in the actual plot now dkfldskg

i'm gonna ramble about how each of my hunts for these pkmn went under the cut! :3c there'll be no plot spoilers because i have pretty much only scratched the surface of that!

ok so... syrup the dipplin was the first shiny that i collected for this team! i got her in a random applin outbreak a few weeks before the dlc dropped. i wasn't sure what to evolve her into (or if to just keep her as an applin), so i ended up procrastinating on that... but i realized that she was the perfect candidate for my teal mask team, since dipplin is a brand new pkmn. i generally don't keep track of encounters during outbreaks, but she showed up really fast! i was worried that i'd miss her since applin is SO small, and it's also green so it tends to blend into the grass ;_; either way, i caught her in a luxury ball o7

the second shiny i got was laz the munchlax! munchlax has been a dream shiny of mine so i was extremely hype to take this hunt on. ik it's on the more subtle side, but i think the rich, darker blue is really cute on munchlax, and a shiny is a shiny, u know? i started it off in pkmn shield a few days before the dlc dropped, since the pkmn twitter posted a screenshot with a munchlax in it hehe. i decided to try for a moon ball munchlax via the masuda method (somehow i have a TON of special apricorn pokeballs in shield?!?! we were eatin good back then wtf). i ended up going over-odds in shield for munchlax the NIGHT that the dlc dropped... i'm not sure about the exact number, but i was definitely over 512. once that happened, i transfered the parent snorlax over to scarlet and resumed the hunt over there, since i figured it'd be more fun to explore the new region as i hatched eggs. i hatched roughly 150 more of them before laz hatched on egg 668! (i also got the item finder mark on him, so his full title is 'laz the treasure hunter' - sooo cute. ;_;)

after laz, i decided to try for some more outbreak shinies, since i thought those would be quick and easy. by full odds standards, they totally were!!! but by outbreak standards, i def faced... a few little challenges! LDFGKD;GK

the morning after the dlc dropped, i had a ralts outbreak so i figured i'd go for another dream shiny of mine - gallade. that'd mean finding a male ralts, since gallade is gender-specific. i tried to hunt for a male ralts back in legends arceus and ended up finding a female one as well as a female kirlia, so i figured that i'd have some better luck in another game. i ended up finding FIVE more female ralts before finally getting a male one as ralts #8. i caught him in a net ball and named him 'aske' after a character in the dnd campaign that i'm in with my friends!! iykyk!!! LSDKFDSLKG but i really do enjoy catching pkmn that are themed after other characters so i'm totally thrilled to have this gallade!!! ;v;

shortly after nabbing aske, i got marrow the mandibuzz during a vullaby outbreak! this shiny was such a standard fun little outbreak shiny - i knocked out around 60 vullabies and she turned up very quickly after that. i think if you have the teal mask dlc and enjoy outbreak shiny hunting, the paradise barrens portion of the map is gonna be really, really good for them, since theres barely anything to obscure the pkmn that are outbreaking (and there's no grass, so there's like, no lag at all LMFAO). i caught the beloved lil birdy in a luxury ball.

after marrow came home so fast, i was emboldened, so i started my hunt for chiyoh the sinistcha(/poltchageist). i decided to see if i could get an artisan poltchageist outbreak to trigger, since, at the time, there were rumours about all-artisan outbreaks - and i suceeded in doing so!!! but then i couldn't find a shiny like... at all... to the point that i was genuinely wondering if it was glitched or something. i hunted in it for a full day and by that point i was like, Convinced that something was wrong, so i ended up giving up on that outbreak. i now realize that the shiny is REALLY subtle, though, so it's possible that i walked right past SEVERAL and didn't know... but i was being ridiculously careful when i hunted it, so i'm honestly not sure about that. anyway, while i was looking for the shiny poltchageist, i phased on TWO different heracrosses. i love heracross' shiny SO MUCH that i succumbed and decided to add one to my team! and that heracross ended up being named crossbun!

by that time, i decided that i didn't really care about having an artisan or counterfeit version of the poltchageist shiny (and tbh i kinda agree with the notion that artisan outbreaks sort of ruin the appeal of hunting down a rare forme), so i ended up doing a few encounter power sandwiches instead. when i finally ran into the shiny, it was huge relief LMAO. chiyoh was my 6th team member, so, with that, my teal mask team was complete! o7

i gave everyone mints, hyper trained them and ev trained them (using lots of mochi from the new ogre oustin' game hehe) and they're now ready to take on the plot! ik that it's definitely not all that necessary to build a team from scratch for the dlc but i had a blast doing it. the time i spent gathering these pals and exploring kitakami was really special. i'm definitely planning on doing this again for the indigo disc dlc!

[en8y]

[IMAGE ID: three horizontal flags with nine stripes; each flag has an icon of the sun in the center; a starburst shape which is white in the middle, surrounded by light yellow, and then surrounded by bright orange. it is in a light grey circle. the middle stripe is twice as large as the rest of them, which are equally sized. the first flag has these top three colors: dark brown, medium brown, and light brown. the second flag has these top three colors: dark blue, medium blue, and light teal blue. the third flag has these top three colors: dark cool grey, medium cool grey, and cool off-white. each flag has these bottom six stripes: pastel yellow, off-white, pastel yellow, golden yellow, light orange, and bright orange. END ID.]

lichtisan: a gender connected to being a light artisan; this gender is connected to light aesthetics, construction aesthetics, and being part of, or made by, the construction coven. can be Solid-in-Nature (SOLIDiN), Geo-in-Nature (GEONiN), and/or Magical-in-Nature (MAGiN), but doesn't have to be!

medilichtic: a gender connected to being a light medic; this gender is connected to light aesthetics, healing/healer aesthetics, and being part of, or made by, the healing coven. can be Doctor-in-Nature (DOCTiN), Nurse-in-Nature (NURSiN), and/or Magical-in-Nature (MAGiN), but doesn't have to be!

lichticeptor: a gender connected to being a light deceptor; this gender is connected to light aesthetics, illusionary aesthetics, and being part of, or made by, the illusion coven. can be Changing-in-Nature (CHiN), Hypnoceras-in-Nature (HYPNiN), and/or Magical-in-Nature (MAGiN), but doesn't have to be!

@radiomogai @liom-archive @obscurian