#ask stichtite

[rosewriteswhump]

Oc Ask Game 2

letters N-Z of the crystal asks!

website ref

if you use these tag me in the answers you get! I'd love to read them! /genuine

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Nundoorite: If you are on a team, is group harmony important to you?

Nuummite: How do you handle a work/life balance?

Obsidian: Are you better at protecting yourself or others?

Opal: Are you hopeful?

Phosphosiderite: Do you believe in past lives?

Pyrite: What does your life have an abundance of?

Quartz (Flame Aura): How do you deal with mental blocks?

Quartz (Hematoid): What is the bravest thing you've done?

Rhodonite: Do you love yourself?

Rhyolite: How do you cope with change? Is it hard no matter the size?

Sapphire: What is your favorite way to express yourself?

Stichtite: Do you forgive yourself?

Tektite: Do you believe in magic?

Tiger's Eye: What give you the most strength?

Unakite: Are you compassionate? How do you express it?

Vanadinite: Biggest personal accomplishment? Does it match with what others' think?

Vesuvianite: What leads you? Head or Heart?

White Howlite: How do you fall asleep? Is there anything you absolutely need to fall asleep?

Zoisite: Can you turn negative situations positive? What helps you do so?

[save-the-spiral]

InkWizTober Day Twenty-Nine: Injured + Endgame

Welcome to day twenty-nine of inktober, and holy FUCK its. A good one. I spent hours on this, writing the end to my Pirate!Queen concept. It’s so good, y’all, read all four parts in order please. Warnings for graphic depictions of violence, narrator having a real bad existential crisis, thoughts about the afterlife, self doubt, death, body horror kinda.

(link to prompt lists) (link to inktober tag)

Captain Avery’s plan to destroy the Armada was, in a word, infuriating. 

The old captain was content to send the young pirate out on his orders- without backup! Just a crew led by a captain who couldn’t be older than seventeen. Any leads or intel came from ‘allies’ who were simply spineless pirates who owed Captain Avery favors. 

Even Queen, who was a member of Kane’s court in the past, who was created to never had an independent thought in her life, knew this was all wrong. She took the lead, fully accepting the pseudonym of ‘Reyna Ferro’, budding pirate captain, with her mysterious and loyal crew of the Pyrite Swan. 

(She ignored the fluttering, ecstatic part of her that reveled in having a ‘normal’ name. How she never wanted to go back to being ‘Queen’. Never wanted to use the name Kane gave her ever again.)

Captain Reyna Ferro seemed to be the only fully competent pirate out of the triad of captains, once she started giving orders. She organized sieges on docked fleets of resting Armada soldiers, got them the useful intel and blueprints (mostly from her own perfect memory), and she made sure that Captain Avery didn’t take it too far.

(A giant, mocking puppet show to draw the Armada soldiers to battle them in Skull Island? Really?)

...Reyna had only recently realized that Avery was likely presenting these plans just to hear how incredulous her tone could get in response. Organic, human pirates could be so difficult to figure out. 

Even now, planning what would likely be their last official mission of this endeavor, Reyna was taking charge. Captain Avery hadn’t even bothered to show up.

“All of the Armada have fallen back, following ingrained protocols to hide in a last resort fortress and begin creating more clockworks to bolster their numbers and buy time. While we were waiting and recovering from the last battle in Monquista, where we took out almost all of their ships and unfortunately lost the young pirate’s ship as well- I got intel from a spy.” 

Reyna took a breath, staring down at the vast array of maps and internally hoping they didn’t question who was spying. She wouldn’t want to reveal her connections on the inside. When this quest started they agreed that Reyna would get any captured soldiers, and she had been working with those very soldiers, turning them slowly towards her side. She let them secretly join her crew, or go back to the Armada as a spy, or gave them a secret hideout to live in peace.

In a way, Reyna was glad she was so adept at lying at this point. Hiding the crew’s identities- and her own- was a matter of life or death. They’d lost far too much to the Armada at this point for the pirates they allied with to not slaughter them outright at the reveal of their clockwork identities. 

Reyna grabbed a thin knife with her gloved hand, casually walking across Captain Avery’s office, trying not to think about how familiar the room had become to her. She let the knife point trail across the large map of Cool Ranch and its skyway. 

“Cool Ranch? Isn’t that a bit out of their usual locations for forts?” Sterling, Reyna’s first mate, asked.

“Yeah but think about it.” Zircon replied, sitting casually on Avery’s ornate desk, slightly damaged mace in hand. “Big, open country. Lots of mines to hide in, could go out where no one would hear you. Find a ghost town to reinforce or whatever.”

Bonnie Anne, one of the young pirate’s crewmates, nodded. Her large, canon-like weapon was leaning casually against Avery’s desk, and she was leaning into Zircon’s side. “Lots of shadowy characters in Cool Ranch. They could easily spread out too- dark corners in saloons, becoming farm hands or apprentices- they wouldn’t have to show their face, just work and plan their next moves.”

Reyna tuned out the conversation between crews, tracing coordinates until she found the building marked by a small square, the one she was looking for. She stabbed the knife into the spot, the amber handle and silver blade glinting in the sunlight of a nearby window.

She turned around, grabbing a piece of charcoal, and began writing small neat notes on the map. “It’s actually an abandoned railway station, right by an abandoned mine. They’re grouped together, reinforcing the area like Zircon said.” 

If Reyna could grin, she would. The sight of Zircon and Bonnie Anne fist-bumping was something she wanted to imprint in her brain forever. Zircon had become much more outgoing and trusting since this all started, becoming fast friends with the fox privateer. 

Sterling sighed, toying with an antique telescope. “They’re likely re-purposing the few machines from the mine, and they can transport any materials they need far too easily for my liking.”

“Exactly.” The young pirate murmured, then went back to silently arguing with Egg Shen about something small- probably eating just oatmeal for breakfast, with no fruit, opposing Egg Shen’s exacting health standards.

Reyna pondered the railroad line that went through the huge island of Cool Ranch, all huge plateaus and gorgeous vistas. “They might have dynamite too. Let’s fight fire with fire here, Bonnie. Get some dynamite of your own by the end of the day, please.”

“End of the day?” Sterling asked, a bit alarmed.

“Yes.” Reyna said sternly, turning to face the room, all eyes on her. The dozen or so of the young pirate’s crew (the rest in Skull Island’s infirmary), and her own crewmates in the brash and protective Zircon, the curious and anchoring Sterling, the quiet and observant Malachite, who even now is sitting perched on a tall bookshelf, watching.

“Timing is essential here. We need to get in on their next shipment, at dusk tomorrow. We hide in a car, ambush the clockworks collecting the cargo, and move on from there. Spread out, follow the marks I’ve made on these blueprints of the area. Destroy weapons and clockworks being made, capture the rest. My crew will deal with them.” Reyna stopped, weighing down the blueprints and making a few amendments to the lines on it.

Egg Shen nodded at this, getting up and examining the papers. “We trust your planning, Captain Ferro. You haven’t steered us wrong yet.” 

The nods that followed from the young pirate and his crew were disarming. 

Reyna stepped back, standing awkwardly due to her prosthetic leg. “But- most of your crew are in the infirmary- you lost your ship because of my plans. I understand if you want to change this, you do not have to-”

“Relax, Reyna.” Bonnie Anne offered, gesturing around at the others in the room. “We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t already trust you with our life. If we had made the plans- well, we would have had much more trouble without you and your amazing crew.”

If Reyna could blush, she would be bright red right now. 

“Yeah Captain!” Zircon said, tilting her head in a way that conveyed childishness. “Our crew is pretty amazing, but it’s nothing without you guiding us.”

Sterling and Malachite were nodding, and Reyna was slightly worried for her internal processing, with how long it was taking to understand and absorb what they were saying. With stuttered thanks, she quickly turned everyone back to the plan, delegating roles for every pirate on the mission.

Bonnie Anne and Malachite, who would climb on top of the train cars when the ambush strikes, and gun down any backup from the Armada. 

Egg Shen and Sterling would work with the young pirate on finding the leader, and the workshop for clockwork creation.

The twins, Rhodium and Rhenium, alongside Nanu Nanu and Emmet of the young pirate’s crew, would be a distraction on the south side, near the large ravine. 

Everyone else was nodding, happy to follow Reyna’s orders. It made her feel nervous, knowing that failure or success rested on her plan, on her shoulders. Some part of her wanted to just stop, to sit down and tell someone else to take responsibility, to do the hard job. The restless part of her, the one that drove her to piracy in the first place, that filled her with wonder at beautiful nature scenery, and rage at how governments and outlaws alike take advantage of the poor. 

She would keep moving, keep planning, only to appease that dark pit of dissatisfaction with life. 

The waiting, right before a mission truly went underway, was what killed her inside. It took Zircon’s firm grip on her hand, Spectrolite’s silly puns, and Osmium’s toothless threats to every annoyance, to calm her down. Her crew, her strange crew of ex-battle angels, of ex-dolls of the Armada, all of them like family, they truly had a calming effect on her, made her remember her purpose. 

They took up half of the large storage train car. Rhodium and Rhenium were playing tic-tac-toe with chalk on the floor and far more threats than proper, Meteorite was checking her ammo compulsively, doing it again and again to ensure she would not forget, Stichtite was jokingly adding ridiculous ideas to the plan, Sterling nodding seriously as she listened, only to laugh when it got truly bizarre. 

There were a few more that joined her. Rehabilitated clockworks saved from their missions by being captured and handed over to Reyna and her crew, ones who wanted to repent, to atone for their cruel actions under another’s order. They remained nameless, still new to their sentience and trying to find themselves, these three clockworks. One was a battle angel, like the rest of the crew, one was a musketeer, and another was a buccaneer, halberd resting by his side always.

Reyna felt the train, racing across the Cool Ranch countryside, begin to slow. Everyone became alert, even the dozing young pirate.

Reyna was tempted to follow in Egg Shen’s footsteps and bother the young pirate into getting eight hours of sleep a night an eating their fruits and vegetables upon seeing the dark circles under their eyes. 

The train rumbled as it stopped, the only other sound being the breathing of the organic pirates, and the cicadas singing. The sun was setting, sky a dusky red, light falling. It was time.

As they heard the exacting footsteps of clockworks, people hid in storage containers, behind them. Bonnie Anne and Malachite climbed out on the opposite side from where the clockworks would be approaching, the two clambering up onto the roof for a better vantage point.

Rhodium and Rhenium were looking at each other, conversing in a strange twin speak that seemed to transfer even to clockworks, and they moved forward in sync as the door slowly opened. Nanu Nanu and Emmet followed behind the two, slightly reluctant, but willing nonetheless. Zircon, next to Reyna, shifted in excitement, and Reyna knocked their heads together lightly, a soft ‘I’m here’, practically a kiss on the cheek. A common clockwork display of affection the crew had developed.

Zircon looked at Reyna, and bumped her back, right before the fighting started.

It was loud- the twin clockworks were always loud, calling confusing orders, yelling nonsense, acting like it was a game. The rest of the pirates stampeded out of the train car, hopping onto the dusty ground of the plateau. The clockworks, a neat, matching group of five, were in pieces.

The visual, slowly cloaked by the night’s darkness, made Reyna wish she could vomit. It was disgusting, unnatural- to see bodies- ones so similar to her own, ones that bled oil, that were made of metals, had the potential to feel- to see them shattered, it hurt. To see pieces of a being that once had a consciousness, even if it was controlled by others, to know a personality was behind that, hidden deep, it made something in Reyna shatter a tiny bit every single time.

The only thing that gave her solace every time was knowing that those Armada clockworks were free now, free from the trappings of being a soldier, of only following orders, having no free will. At least, if there was a personality in there, it would not have to suffer, would not have to watch as their body was controlled by something they could not fight.

The group continued on nonetheless, twins taking point and dragging Nanu Nanu and Emmet along for the ride, playing with firecrackers and yelling to draw attention

Sterling chuckled under her breath, but split off from Reyna’s side, moving to join the young pirate and Egg Shen on their mission to find the workshop. From above they heard Bonnie Anne’s exclamations about the twins doing their thing, and most of the secret clockwork pirates were snickering, before returning to their jobs.

Personally, Reyna was glad to lose herself in the violence, the strategy of it. Her sword was sharp, mind sharper, and she ached to prove it to herself once again.

Maybe she was too eager, in the end.

Maybe that was her fatal flaw, some twisted kind of hubris, some need to prove her own humanity to herself. 

Some need to feel alive, and believe it.

Reyna was trapped in a tar pit of self pity, of doubt, of existential horror and comedy in the same suffocating breath. 

She was slumped in the train car, having retreated to their getaway vehicle once she realized the gravity of her wounds. One of the newly created clockworks had been a monstrosity to behold- some strange, hulking creature of screeching metal and regurgitated oil, a terrifying thing. Reyna was selfish, was just plain stupid, and didn’t run back to get other to help her and the young pirate, she just rushed in, sword at the ready, some strange synthetic adrenaline in her system. 

Reyna Ferro, Queen, just some upgraded battle angel, just some dysfunctional clockwork- she rushed in, like an idiot, like an impulsive human, side by side with the most impulsive human she had ever met, the young pirate captain. They had fought hard, fought well, almost downed the thing, but it was clever. Reyna had to shield the young pirate with her own body, the sound of screeching metal against metal, hopefully something the other pirate had mistaken for armor against weapons, was all Reyna knew for a moment.

When she became aware, the young pirate simply helped her up, and defeated the clockwork beast, telling Reyna to go back to safety. 

Reyna was done for.

She could hear the pirates returning, the cheers of victory, the few stray firecrackers and loads of dynamite being set off, followed by hysterical laughter. They had torches, lanterns, with them. They would know.

Reyna was leaking black, bleeding oil into the layers of concealing clothes and armor that hid her clockwork status. It wouldn’t work for long, not with her wound.

She wouldn’t work for long with this wound, a ravine cut diagonally down her abdomen, metal curling inwards, sparking gears malfunctioning. 

The pirates were approaching, and she wished she could cry. Out of all the things she envied humans for, it was the ability to cry. To sob and scream and fill the entire world with her tears, to cough and hiccup and cry out about the unfairness of it all. 

Reyna, in all technicality, was only a year and a half old. That was how long she was sentient, she had free will. Before that she might as well have been dead. She had so many more years in her, and there was a desperate, clawing need to experience those years, those thousands of sunrises and sunsets, the lazy hours and minutes full of frenzied battle.

She wanted it all.

The group entered the car- emptied now, for easier travels back- and the leader (Sterling, her beautiful first mate, Sterling, who she named, reasonable, perfect Sterling) stopped in her place, mask facing Reyna, as if in disbelief.

“Oh no.” Sterling murmured faintly. Reyna would agree if her vocal mechanisms hadn’t already shut down to preserve power.

Zircon (strong, brave, powerful, protective, amazing) bumped into Sterling, and with a confused sound, looked over her shoulder, and saw Reyna, saw her pitiful, dying form. A wordless cry echoed off of the metal walls, and suddenly Reyna was in a strong embrace.

A chorus of amazingly creative swears followed as the rest of the pirates, both in her own crew and in the young pirate’s, followed. Reyna’s own crew crowded around her, hiding her from the others.

“Can you speak, Captain?” Malachite (wonderful, wise, observant, quiet, pretty) eventually asked.

With a stuttering shake and a quiet, chirruping sound, she indicated that no, she could not speak, she was dying. 

Maybe not in those words, but the message got across.

“Okay, okay okay okay.” Someone was saying, trying not to panic- maybe Meteorite?- we can heal her, we can do this. 

“How?!” Someone whisper-yelled, a sharp motion drawing Reyna’s fuzzy gaze. 

Her optics were going to shut down next. Then her hearing, her movement, her-

Reyna fell into sleep, internally floating, a child in a womb, a baby, a little fawn with no legs to stumble with. She was nothing, everything, mind trying to process the never ending darkness of her emergency protocols. She was dying- was going to die.

She had never thought about death, never thought it applied to her in the sense of experiencing it. Did she even have a soul? Was she worthy of some salvation or damnation? Some quiet, peaceful end? Endless nothingness, like now? A beautiful facade of her perfect life? 

Do machines get to go to the afterlife if they can feel, can love, can hate, can reason, just as much as any other sentient creature? Did being made of metal make her any different, any more or less deserving?

She floated, existentially paralyzed by the broad endlessness of death. 

When she woke up, it was strange. It was little clicking sounds, soft whirring, clunky gears beginning to work. It was her internal processing telling her that her joints were working, hearing, eyes-

Goodness, it was bright.

Reyna woke up lying flat on a bed, bright light shining right into her optics. Blinking her vacant, black ‘eyes’, she blocked out the light and sat up, before opening them again, and wanting to gasp.

She was... well, not naked, but it was strange, to not be clothed in layers upon layers of pirated finery, to not have armor and mystery to protect her and her clockwork body. She looked down, seeing gloveless hands, ones that worked perfectly, every metal knuckle in place, clicking slightly. She saw her legs- one silver and slightly longer, from a musketeer clockwork who was dead before she found him- and the other her original, glinting in bronze and gold.

By the rocking, she was in a ship. Looking around, she realized- it was her ship, the Pyrite Swan, in her own bed. Not that she used it, seeing as clockworks didn’t need to sleep. Apparently, not until now.

“You’re awake!” The excited, in unison voices of Rhodium and Rhenium filled her ears, and she looked towards the doorway, seeing the two standing guard. “We’ve got to tell the others!” 

“Wait!” Reyna’s voice was rough, scratchy and screechy, painful. “Wait.”

The twins stopped, standing seriously and tilting their heads.

“What about- the humans- they-?”

“Oh!” Rhenium gasped. “Oh! So- okay, so after they figured it out- not until we were boarding the ship, but they did find out- Rat Beard almost hurt you, but Zircon almost killed him, and Bonnie Anne of all people defended us! She said to trust us, and the young pirate agreed, said you took that hit for them of all people!”

Rhodium nodded. “And then- oh dear- Emmet got a shot off I’m afraid, almost killed Sterling! She was so angry, told us all to calm down in that Mom Voice she has! It was so cool, they all shut up and let us explain! We set sail and told them our story- well, Sterling told most of it, we all chipped in with our own individual backstories- but goodness, you should have SEEN their faces. I didn’t know whether to laugh or hide!”

The two continued to ramble, back and forth, until finally someone was drawn to the commotion. 

“Zircon- help.” Reyna said simply, and the other clockwork nodded, pulling the twins out by their collars like misbehaving kittens, and then coming back. 

“Captain.” She started, voice stuttering, fearful. “You almost...”

“I didn’t, though.”

“Osmium and Meteorite finally worked together on something, figuring out how to heal you. It was... not pretty.” Zircon said, sitting gently on Reyna’s bedside.

“Maybe they’ll finally get over the romantic tension then.” Reyna muttered, and Zircon laughed.

“Yeah, finally.” 

Reyna sat up again, leaning heavily against Zircon as her systems got used to movement. “Help me up?” She finally said.

“Always, Captain.” Zircon said quietly.

Using her crew mate as a crutch, Reyna limped across her quarters. “I’m going to get dressed. Still doesn’t feel quite right without clothes, anymore.”

“I can help.” Zircon offered. Reyna’s grip on Zircon’s hand strengthened for a moment, a squeeze, a thank you. Heads knocking lightly, a clockwork kiss on the cheek.

Simple black trousers, a white shirt with a ruffled collar, and a captain’s hat, black with a broad golden feather. 

Reyna leaned heavily on Zircon, half starved for the touch, half actually needing it. They made their way across the room, and Zircon opened the doors again to sunlight of a new day. 

“Hey, Captain Ferro.” 

Reyna’s head whipped to the side, a blank slate of white and bronze and gold, maskless, and watched the young pirate captain approach.

“Captain.” They said. “You up to planning the next great adventure?”

Their voice was weak, hoarse. They had bloodshot eyes, a tear stained face. They had shaking hands, but offered Reyna’s sword to her nonetheless, standing tall, like a proper captain.

Reyna stood tall as well, arms off of Zircon, stepping forward. “Of course, Captain.” She said, almost playfully, head tilting as she reached forward- slow, cautiously- and grabbed the hilt of her sword almost reverently. It had dulled from battle, still covered in oil stains. 

She looked back at the young pirate, at their companions and friends behind them, watching. Finally, she spoke again.

“Just give me a few days to rest up, and our crew will be ready to take over the entire Spiral, before you know it!”

At her words, the crew, united, co-captained, broke into a wordless cheer, and Reyna fell back a bit, leaning on Zircon, letting the other girl half carry her back to bed.

Maybe pirates weren’t as savage, as uncivilized as she was programmed to think. Every one of them were thinking, living beings, with feelings, wants, needs. Just like clockworks, like those individual cogs that made up the once existent Armada. 

Pirate, Armada, Clockwork, Compassionate- 

Why not just be every single one? Take every label for herself? 

It’s what pirates do, after all.

[teenmanhua]

The Isolated King and the Imprisoned Princess

Born to be a princess, Fine was raised in a tower with a blindfold on because of her golden eyes, which are said to be unlucky. Though she believed her parents loved her, it all turned out to be a lie when her father decides to offer her to the god to end the kingdom’s long-standing drought. But right before Fine is pushed into the spring, the king of the powerful kingdom Stichtite, Sieghart rescues her. “I want to make Fine my wife.” Fine is utterly confused by both the relief of having her life saved and his sudden request. Why did he save Fine and ask her to marry him when they’ve never … More… The Isolated King and the Imprisoned Princess 孤高の王は囚われの姫から愛を知る Read the full article

[mythharvester]

Walking in my shoes chapter 2

Chapter Two Day 2- Dreamtime.

Cassidy woke up to the ping of his mobile at 6. 05 am, only 4 hours and 20 minutes sleep. The sound of the phone snapped him out and the dream was gone. He was not upset because he knew he would have had to wake up soon as he had to jump out of bed and get to the toilet before the flood come. Just a function of reaching the autumn years he thought, then the notion that maybe that was a bullshit belief right there stuck him and he smiled to him self. For a man who does not visualise the dream had been pretty vivid, but it was a bit like trying to find a document in the cloud for the old fellow, he was close but just could not get it back. Not to worry this is just a maybe moment, he thought it was only a I see it and believe it opportunity.

He had asked his angels to help him remember and while the exact details eluded him the overall content was firm in his mind. There was a challenge, a dragon to slay, an opposition. It was almost like a military operation. He was in dangerous terrain, they had set up about six bunker type stations in front of the target. It was nighttime and they had been successful in moving forward and backward without being detected. The strategy was solid the last fifty metres to the target building was well covered. The approach zone had been checked and was clear of booby traps. Radio communications had been established and the countdown to attack had begun. 10, 9, 8, ping they phone went off. He was glad in a way because he knew he would not have made it and laughed at himself imagining stopping the countdown, sorry bravo team can we wait till I have a pee? I’m absolutely busting. Worse than that what if he went in his dream and became a 59 year old bed wetter? Not good for his manly image? His sense of humour kicked in, he wondered if it would be more embarrassing at the chemist than buying condoms? Can I have these extra large incontinence knickers please?

He pulled out his pendulum time to find out the truth of the matter, his gut was telling him that there was a message in the dream so he asked that question and his pendulum started spinning in a clockwise circle, his yes response. So he relaxed and focused on his breathing, time to quite his mind. What was the message? As he relaxed and focused on the meaning he felt the explanation come to him. Be patient friend, develop your strategy and implement it. Take care not to rush in, take baby steps and hone your skills. Keep your eye on the prize and you third eye will open for you. So was that the message.? Pity his angel was not as precise as Joseph’s in Mathew 2. Pretty clear message, “get up flee to Egypt with the child and his mother” Not for him, so he used his pendulum to see if his interpretation was correct and the answer was yes.

Time for a walk so he said a little prayer, holy father and my angels please open my mind today to your countless messages and communications, let me notice and connect with at least two of your miracles and be able to connect the things I see to your messages, let my see your plan for me today as I walk in the wonder of your creation.

He looked for a deck of cards and picked up the crystal cards and started shuffling. the card he picked was stichtite in serpentine. The message-Meditation, Clearing your every centres detoxifying your thoughts. Few and negative thoughts are preventing you from experiencing joy in your life. Consciously choose to love and trust the universe. There is nothing to fear you are eternally surrounded by love.

Once again he smiled at how relevant the card was, last night he asked his support crew to join him in sleep and help him unblock his chakras. This mornings card is about unblocking those energy centres.

During his walk a car cut through at a crossing just as his friend and he turned to cross. A close call? Was it a sign, a message? the car was white, Later he used his pendulum to confirm it was a sign, keep your eyes open and on the path, you will reach your destination but it will be a journey with challenges and road blocks. He decided to use white as a guide for any connecting synchronicities during the day. He set the intention.

At bedtime he decided to say the prayer of Francis of Assisis. Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen

Now it was permission time, time to exercise his free will, ask and it shall be given. . Holy Father, my guardian angels, my angels, spirit guides, my higher self and ascended masters I give you permission to join me in my dreams and please guide me and help me to clear and unblock my Chakras and open up my third eye. Help me to remember my dreams and to interpretate any signs or messages I need to help me on my journey. Thy will be done. Lights out so he picked up the phone and started a guided meditation to help him drift of to sleep.

[chromarrays]

What fusion comes next? I'd love to see grossular, stichtite, or golden haze tanzanite

none of them, but is one that specially YOU asked since the first time you saw it.

[ask-stichtite-blog]

I LOVE THIS THING...!

You know sometimes you just gotta... whip out what you’re good at...! I’m good at this...! I’m so good...!

Uh.... So yeah, you guessed right, it’s a horn basically... I can make good stuff happen if I remember when I play it correctly, because of the components. Usually I tend to stick with three effects... Either bad for you, good for you, or, uh, oh heck no bad for you.

Basically if you’re strong willed I’ll have to.... toot my horn... a little louder...! I can make you see things, make you panic, or boost you up...! Usually I... save that for allies. But sometimes I can play so bad your lightform doesn’t know what to do, and well.... if you’re fighting someone it’s pretty disheartening to lose control of your... limbs? ha ha ha.

Usually if they get too close I just smack ‘em away. This things heavy!

I think there’s three components, actually... but I never care to pay attention when it’s time to let it loose!

[fattransghast]

Stichtite is a Homeworld gem best described as "freelance" in terms of their services. They'll help anyone who needs a hand out, especially if it involves smashing enemies or empowering allies- when Stichtite's not at their regular job. Otherwise, they're content lazing around.

Stichtite didn't appear until a few millennium before the War on Earth. They gained a bit of a reputation as a bodyguard for high-classed gems on the invasion fronts, as their weapon was more suited for the rear lines. Empowering their allies and weakening enemies with a bellow from their massive hunting horn, Stichtite became iconic with the divisions that they worked with. They even co-led their own divisions for a short time during the peak of homeworld invasions.

After the War for Earth and the defeat by Rose Quartz' armies, Stichtite returned to homeworld only to leave shortly afterwards for unknown reasons. This resulted in their being stranded on a distant asteroid through their dismal attempts at piloting their ship alone.

[ask blog!]

Stat Explanation Below

Strength:

What's the point of being a huge gem if you can't swing a big weapon? Although short of being the strongest, Stichtite can swing with the best of them, especially with their weapon out. To resist damage while their shattering noises are made, the hunting horn is extremely durable. It would be almost impossible for a single gem to pick up, except in special circumstances. Their willpower picks up the gaps where their raw brute force falls short, making it easy to even lift and break stuff with their bare hands.

Agility:

Unfortunately, aside from the typical gem strength leading to some sweet air to jump out of the way of attacks and some quick swings, Stichtite is slow. They don't get out of the way of attacks unless necessary, guarding instead, and preferring to let the opponent mess up and get close. The only thing making Stichtite able even keep up with regular gem's walking speed is their giant gait from their size. The horn takes a while to make a full swing at full range, so although the connect is brutal, there's plenty of room to dodge if you can get out of the way fast enough.

But then again, short range isn't their main talent.

Confidence:

Stichtite is confident in that they’re sure of themselves, mostly because of their willpower and self-love. They don’t need to care what others think of them, because they’re certain of their ability to change the tide in their favor if they cared enough to. Although their confidence seems like arrogance to higher-ranking gems, they never thinks of themselves as above other gems, especially their friends. They are what they are, and they know it, and they don’t do what they don’t want to. There's little room for arguing that. Well... almost. Ask nicely.

Willpower:

For all that Stichtite lacks, they make up for in sheer willpower when they get the want to. Actually their strongest trait, it's best described as an instant reaction to the thought "I WILL do this." They don’t think about there being a possibility of them not doing it, even forcing themselves beyond their limits to accomplish it without a second thought. It gives them the strength to lift things their power would otherwise fall short of, swing as if their fist was hard as steel, close the gap between an opponent and themselves, and most importantly, power their horn's call across the battlefield. Only a few times has the overreaching backfired, causing them to destabilize or poof from strain. It's a very surprising talent for anyone on the receiving end.

Social Skills:

Although first glance would tell you there's a smoothness and a kindness, getting to get Stichtite to talk is an event in itself. They don’t bother with real or prying conversation unless you're a good friend, and reveal even less to strangers. Commands are met with "sure" and "yeah, ok." Stichtite's secretive- unless they’ve made the assumption that they doesn't like you. In which case you'll be quickly informed of how much a bother you are. Otherwise, they'll seem friendly enough, but it's usually a front until they learn where you stand with them. Once they’re talking, however, they’ll talk easily, although not like an open book. First impressions are decisive, and this can gain them some ire when it's not meant to.

Charisma:

Although not revealing about themselves, Stichtite does care for those they note on their side, if said person can take care of themselves. Half Stichtite’s talent focuses on boosting those fighting with them, after all. That talent and their assuredness, that seems to rub off on those around them, give them a magnetism that's hard to ignore. They’re good at listening to concerns and providing advice. If anything, most soon realize that being in their corner is a good thing.

Stamina:

Stichtite has fairly average stamina for a gem like themselves. They usually don’t have to last long- a powerful blast or so and they’re set for the battle. If enemies make it to them, they do their best to move little and end it quick. Using their horn is the most draining, but most regular gems don't last long enough to be concerned about it.

Creativity:

Stichtite enjoys a variety of downtime activities, mostly coming up with new effects for their weapon, and likes human art. Their strategies, however, are concise and effective. They only mix things up when they spot an opportunity, and usually don’t rely on it unless it's a guaranteed result in their favor. They can, however, account for what an enemy might do, though not to the degree of a master tactician for sure.

Empathy:

Like they can tell what their enemies are thinking, they can usually read the situation with their friends as well. What they feel for both, they feel strongly. They have little sympathy for those who can't help themselves, but find it impossible to leave anyone completely defenseless. They enjoy sharing in victory and relishing defeat, especially when it's in favor of friends, and so are content being a support role.

Humor:

Although pleasant and not without enjoying jokes, most humor, usually from strangers, is wasted on Stichtite. When they are serious about something (whether it's a fight or reading or steering a ship) they won't even waste their energy on a smile. Stichtite does, however, enjoy seeing people's little quirks and finds most others' conversations to be pretty enjoyable.

Discipline:

Stichtite follows orders because they don’t disagree, and when they do, aren’t motivated to fix it. They’re about as disciplined as a sack of potatoes, and would rather lounge around then work unless they do want to. In fact, that's usually what they’re doing when on the job and there's no business. There have only been a few instances of them outright defying orders, usually with the result of them just leaving.

Intelligence:

Stichtite would enjoy a little logic puzzle and can figure out how to handle situations in combat from their experience, and their regular intelligence is above average. They are more than capable of reacting quickly to challenges. They don’t, however, enjoy planning like a tactician; their stream of thought is more opportunistic. It also takes a hit from their bad recall, mostly on the short term end.

Perception:

Despite not-as-stellar intelligence, one of Stichtite's top three stats is Perception. Years of watching from the rear lines has given them an eye for picking out important details- and important fights. Loose rocks, the next hit from an enemy, and changes in mood can't hide from them. Overall, just rapid observational skills that pick up where their lack of speed stops and gives them time to prepare for the result. Whether they can remember it an hour later, however, is another question.

Luck:

There's not much to say on this. Stichtite doesn't have the best luck but they also certainly don’t have the worst. If anything, they make their own.

Skill/Special: The Imposition

The name for their hunting horn's general skills.

As a gem specializing in sound-based mental effects, Stichtite is immune to being charmed, hypnotized, or otherwise manipulated (though that may just come from lack of discipline and overwhelming sense of self) in most cases. Stichtite is a big gem with a resistance to blunt and force damage, meaning they can take hits and falls alike.

Stichtite is a supporting fighter. Although not capable of direct hypnotism, Stichtite can cause certain effects through the call of their horn. These range from incurring fear, to boosting physical effects, and in some instances (usually very rare), imposing modifications over the gem's form. The horn is extremely loud to anyone that Stichtite doesn't specify as "deaf"- an effect from themselves. They can use the horn to detect where others are hiding- but only after a certain time and volume. The sheer force of the sound is damning, and can even come from them swinging the horn like a hammer, though to much less strength. Certain blasts of sound, directed, can cause them to jump or rocket forward at a frightening speed.

Gems with low willpower (less than four stars) would have almost no hope of resisting the effects, though there is a chance for others that the effects won't happen. The more willing or unsuspecting are more susceptible.

Stichtite can still use some of the sonar-force generation without her weapon, usually by yelling.

All stats have a 3x star multiplier.

[save-the-spiral]

InkWizTober Day Twenty-One: Treasure + Summons

Welcome to day twenty-one of inktober! I wrote more about pirate101 because I Could Not Resist. I made a crew of OCs for Queen now, continuing on (this post). Tried to not accidentally mention SU characters or school gemstones in the process. Warnings for limb loss, weapon mentions, blood mention, general pirate stuff.

(link to prompt lists) (link to inktober tag)

She understands now.

The urge, the calling. Once out on the open skyways, where everything is laid out like a feast, the hunger sets in. It seems so simple, at first. Just a matter of survival. Her against the world now. 

She wants. And for the first time, she can do whatever she needs to in order to get whatever she wants. She finally feels worthy of her name.

Masks become regular, a mask above a mask. A disguise of rags. One that quickly becomes a disguise of a gaudy, secretive captain. Dressed in rich blacks, draped in gold and silver, a large black hat with a broad ostrich feather dyed gold.

People mutter about her. They scatter in fear of this captain running a ship with no crew, who never drinks at pubs, who will stare with shadowed eye sockets from her mask. They wonder who and what she is. Most bets are that she’s a new rival to the young captain who had been both dominating and helping the Spiral in one swoop. Some think she’s some old legend revived by a witch doctor.

Queen is glad to know that no one suspects her. No one suspects a defective Armada puppet. Not even when she brings several haywire battle angels under her protection, giving them names and clothes and freedom like they’ve never known. They all call each other sister, and tell their tales.

No, at the closest people get is assuming she was once Valencian royalty, and got sick of the Armada. Only one of those is right.

Now when she walks its not the straight backed, aristocratic sway of a proper lady. Her left leg was destroyed by a Monquistan guard who tried to play hero. It still aches, even when replaced by the slightly shorter limb of a fallen Armada musketeer. She limps, and even that is enough for people to look away quickly, still able to pity her and feel disgusted in the same glance. 

Queen loves the imperfection. It makes her more alive. It makes her feel like a pirate, battle worn.

She has stolen now. She steals and lies and cheats, even in her written notes to communicate with people outside her crew. She kills now, blood and oil and strange magics all the same when they spill under her blade. She does whatever she wants, never answering to anyone anymore. 

And so she’s a pirate now. Enemy of every government. Something to be feared. Something free and living outside of any society. The power is intoxicating, but she works hard to remember to never put herself on a pedestal. Arrogance was Kane’s downfall, it could easily become hers. 

Queen is humbled, however, when she and her crew finally reach the Skull Island Skyways. Every pirate here seems more vicious than they could ever be, all of them almost bored by the wanton violence. Crime is the way of life here, it is what builds every single home, what fuels every fire.

Queen feels like she’s coming home, another misfit finally finding her island. Her crew of fallen angels can only agree, all of them awed by the bright skies, the flourishing greenery, the intricate flags flying high. They’ve reached paradise.

Their ship is moderately sized, with plain black flags only depicting a delicate golden wing. A reminder of their past, what they all were meant to be. They wear black and don masks, metal bodies resistant to the heat. When they dock at Skull Island itself, they all glance at each other as if they cannot believe it. 

Even Queen finds an artificial breath shuddering out of her chest, a protocol meant to quiet her gears. A majority of her old protocols were to make her quiet, unseen. She tends to ignore them gleefully now.

Her right hand, an ex-angel she gave the name Sterling, was gripping the plain wooden wheel to their ship so hard it had begun to creak in complaint. Queen gently places a hand on Sterling’s shoulder, hearing faint muffled clicks as every joint in her right hand’s body relaxes. 

“Anchor down.” Queen calls, voice almost drowned by the loud sounds of ships and crews casting off or also docking. Two of her crew mates, Rhodium and Rhenium, the ones who insist on acting like twins, drop the anchor and high five, always more youthful than their sisters.

The dark wood of the deck clacks awkwardly with her limping gait, her heeled original leg sharper than the almost flat musketeer’s leg. Queen gestures for Sterling to follow, gathering her crew near the largest mast, waiting for their look out to slide down from the crow’s nest.

The crew’s lookout, given the name Malachite for her penchant for greens, slides down with ease. Her calm demeanor is betrayed by nervousness, and her hands shake under green gloves, fiddling slightly with her guns.

Malachite nods nonetheless. “No battles anywhere, seems as busy as usual.” 

Rhodium and Rhenium are practically vibrating, eager to explore the island, too childish for their own good. “Let’s go then!” They say in unison, holding hands.

The crew all turns to Queen. She wants to protect them all, and her chest aches with something she has not been able to name. A dozen ex-angels, all of them lovingly named by her, named after precious and unique things, stones and metals. To remind them that they are all people now, that they have worth. 

And now she had to decide if she could trust them to stay safe on an island full of pirates that would rip them to shreds if they caught wind of the clockwork hidden under baggy clothes and masks, boots and gloves and mystery.

Zircon, ever surly and combative, crosses her arms with a sharp click and, if she were able too, would surely frown. “Everyone settle down. We cannot all go at once, too many masked pirates draws attention.”

“Don’t we want that though?” Sterling asks with a quirked head. “We want to speak to Avery, after all. He would be intrigued by a new crew.”

“But they could think we were-” Malachite cuts herself off, “Well, they could assume the wrong thing. Shoot first, ask later. Then they get one of our bodies and-”

“We could take them.” Zircon scoffs. “But I still say only Captain and Sterling go.” 

More of her crew chime in, Stichtite with her wild ideas, Spectrolite with the inevitable pun, Osmium trying to pick a fight with Meteorite. The others try to add their two cents, only for it to be drawn into arguments and jokes, all while Queen tries to decide.

“Okay- everyone, listen.” Queen says. And they all do, going dead silent, and it feels like a ghost ship for one dreadful second before Rhodium giggles. “So. The plan is now that I and Zircon will go to Avery. Malachite and Sterling, you go to the pub.”

Queen is proud of the way Zircon handles herself, adjusting the dangerous mace on her shoulder, not bragging as she once may have, not overcompensating. Malachite stands at attention as well, nervous energy gone now that she has a mission. Sterling is as reliable as ever at her side.

Queen continues to speak now, reassured. “Gather any intel about current events on the island, especially the young captain. Don’t make a big deal of being on my crew, but mention it. Cobalt, you are in charge of the ship while we are away, if anyone comes to talk to you, tell them to wait for our return.” 

With a small nod to herself, adjusting her feathered hat, Queen holds one hand on her scabbard as she jumps ship, unbalanced on the dock. Sterling quickly follows, helping Queen regain her land legs. 

Zircon and Malachite follow, and they begin to walk from the docks to the beach, all of them covered head to toe in cloth or armor, revealing only the flash of blade or the barrel of a gun.

Once Sterling and Malachite break off from the group, Zircon follows Queen closely, acting the part of loyal guard dog, staring down anyone who even thinks of grabbing the bounty on the head of her mysterious Captain.

It’s a rather high bounty, to be fair. Queen is rather proud of that fact. To not have an official name, but to be feared nonetheless, it is something that does her rogue heart proud.

They enter Avery’s Court to many stares, whispers in all accents like a rushing tide. A few people scamper, some of them off to tell others, some in fear.

Queen recognizes quite a few people who she has met in battle and thoroughly beaten. Even they leave her alone, pirate’s honor in this haven as coveted as gold, only the scum at the bottom of a yum barrel would bother attacking her now in this sanctuary.

They walk up to Captain Avery’s door and knock. This is a demonstration of fearlessness, of daring that only so few can possess. Avery is a respected man, too crafty for his own good. The pirate that bet everything and won, who made Skull Island, who guides the young captain through the Spiral, who was able to retire alive and wealthy.

Queen admires the man, but only as one can admire a leader, never as a person. She resolved to be attached to no man as soon as she realized what Kane had been turning her into. 

The door opens to Captain Avery seated at a long table, sipping tea. The young pirate captain and their right hand are seated as well, looking uncomfortable. All three turn to look at her. 

“I had been waiting for an opportunity to meet you, mysterious captain of the Pyrite Swan. Why don’t you and your friend come in for a spot of tea?” Avery grins, a gold tooth shining in the sunlight. “I promise we all can make it worth your while.”

When Queen sits, Zircon stands at her shoulder, mace in hand. Neither speak, and the similarly mute young captain looks confused, their face soft with baby fat and scarred by their journeys. 

Zircon hands Queen a golden quill and a roll of parchment, and Queen turns to Avery, waiting for him to speak.

She can only wait to see what game they’ll be playing soon enough.

[chromarrays]

quantum otto is perfect (since it's made up what will the color be?) (this may be the 2nd time i've sent this, i don't think the first ask sent, sorry if it did and this is a waste of time)

Yeah it send twice haha. Idk, Purplish green maybe :0 like Stichtite or Alexandrite.

[ask-stichtite-blog]

I hope I don’t scare you nice little grey guys off....!

[ask-stichtite-blog]

I’d suggest a fusion counselor for you and the other if there were anymore. Sorry...! I’m not good at hooking people up.

[ask-stichtite-blog]

I was made with all the right stuff...!

[ask-stichtite-blog]

Radio signals? From who?

Well, holding’s never fun. Guess I’ll see what you’ve got!

[[Ask Stichtite’s Box is Open!

about: [x]

Thanks!!!]]

[ask-stichtite-blog]