#based her colors off bearded vultures

[chickensauras]

I think Laois and MY personal favorite creature, The Simurgh, would get along :]

[leafnighthybridwolfsbane]

Sandwing Headcanons

(Info below the cut)

I had fun drawing this one! I nearly forgot one of the back legs, so that was interesting. I kinda based this one on red sand and the mesa/badlands. This one is a bit more simplified than the others, but honestly it was a nice break from doing more detailed designs.

Tribe Headcanons

The black sclera and cheetah-like marking helps them see through the blazing haze the sun creates on the sand. Especially sand that is nearly white.

The tufts of fur on their ears helps keep flies and other insects away from their ears.

Sometimes a Sandwing will grow a beard and resemble a Bearded Vulture, though this is extremely rare in the tribe. Maybe 1 in every 10,000 of them get the genes to be able to grow one.

Some Sandwings are also born with retractable fangs like a venomous snake's.

The bearded plates on their necks can puff out as an intimidation tactic.

They also can cry blood as a way to scare off oncoming dragons that might try to kill them if nothing else works.

Their scales match the palette of the sands that they hatched in. This means different natural sand colors can influence the color of a Sandwing's scales. It is near impossible to have them hatch the color of dyed sand. When it does happen, they are considered defective.

Sandwings are the third largest tribe in general, beaten by a a few hairs by the Nightwings.

Their wings are made for long distance travel, making staying in the air for long periods like a walk in the park. They are only beat by Skywings when it comes to flight time between landings.

The top of their wings are colored the same as the sand they hatched in. The bottom coloration of their wings matches their lighter colored underbellies.

Sandwings have the easiest time getting freckled scales due to their length of time in the sun.

Sandwings tend to show emotion though music, dance, and their festivals. Most dragonets are even pushed to learn something to help with one of those three things instead of actually feeling out their emotions.

Sandwings are considered the best ambush predators out of all of the tribes due to their tails and lack of outward showing emotions. A lot of assassin groups either are lead of Sandwings, made up of mostly sandwings, or are purely made of sandwings.

Most tribes mistake them for being an angry tribe. They're not. They're a vengeful and ambitious tribe. If a perfectionist could be put into a single tribe, it would be the Sandwings. They hold their pride high, but not on a faulty pedestal.

Their patience is unmatched, even by a Nightwing's standards. Having them angry at another dragon is silent, but it oozes into the atmosphere is a scarily silent way.

On a lighter note, Sandwing scales are warm to the touch, like a heated rock on a mid-summer's day. They're unfazed by the chill of an icewing's scales.

On that note, fire scales were once such a common ability in Sandwings that Sandwings used to be their nickname. They used to be called Sunwings.

Their spine sail is to help them regulate their internal body heat.

Lore Headcanons

One of their greatest exports in the past was their assassination services. The Scorpions Den used to be this mystical den of assassins before it became a place for what most of the tribe would consider "Undesirables".

Festivals dedicated to the longest day of the year are full of joy and laughter. Their hard, almost completely unreadable, outward expressions melt into this calm and most of the time happy celebration.

It took several centuries for Sandwings to show the array of emotions they do now. Some say that it was because a cowardly queen had used her subjects in a manipulative way that broke the tribe of feeling anything. Others say it was almost like an animus curse. No one really knows.

Survival is their main priority due to them having this sixth sense of having a strong gut instinct about what another dragon will do. Though they are getting better with trusting other dragons under the current queen's guidance.

Current exports include tanned hides and poisons. With their aloof nature, business is done upfront. They take trades and deals seriously, so backing out with enough time or a good excuse means you aren't cut off. They tend to talk to other Sandwing traders, meaning a dragon will not be able to scam others, or waste their time. Scammers are killed on sight. There are no questions asked.

Betrayal upon one is betrayal of all. Sandwings, no matter their position in life, will back one another unless they have done something egregious. Family units are commonly not broken, but in recent years it's not unknown of.

Keeping a singular bone of one family member, be it blood or not, is considered a sacred thing to the individual Sandwing. It means that dragon was extremely important to them. It is sacrilege to take or destroy it. This is the highest form of disrespect and other Sandwings will plot the dragon's death if that Sandwing doesn't kill the dragon.

Sandwings take marriage seriously before the ceremony, but all marriages are considered another festival that has been known to last weeks. A honeymoon isn't necessary due to the weeks long festivities. This is the longest another dragon will see a Sandwing be open about their emotions.

Drawing Inspirations

Their bodies resemble an American Short Hair. These cats give the best build that would be similar to a Sandwing.

Sandwings having primarily desert reptile patterns would be the best, but other desert/savanna/badlands animals would work as well.

The behaviors resemble a more strict regimen household where showing emotions would cause the inhabitants to be severely reprimanded.

Bearded dragons/toads are great for references for the expansion of the neck plates expanding.

Wings of Fire Headcanon List

Skywings

Icewings

Mudwings

Leafwings

Hivewings

Silkwings

[ofluckandmagic]

FANDOMLESS OC | JAIME ROANN |

Temporary artwork made with Komoworm's Person Maker

Name: Jaime Roann

Alias: Death’s Eyes, Bluejay, The Death Head Moth, A Voice on the Wind

Age: unknown, appears late 40s.

Gender: Genderless, Femme-adjacent

Sexuality: Lesbian.

Pronouns: She/Her

Origin/Role: Goddess of Death

Based off of: Death Head Moths, Bearded Vultures

Current residence: Earth

Eye color: red-orange (olive green when disguised)

About this portrayal:

Jaime is an oc for an upcoming webcomic/animated screenplay called ‘Soulmakers’, thus her portrayal may change through time. She’s one of six characters for that, but she’s a work in progress.

I made her long before watching any media with death played by a woman, but she holds a very special place in my heart.

(I’ll update/edit this to reflect her actual artwork once I finish it)

In most verses, Jaime is as old as life itself. She is the embodiment of death and chaos, and all things decay.

Her animalistic features are a result of gods taking aspects of animals when they come to Earth, but also represents her tie to life itself. Bearded vultures are inherently the bringers of carnage, picking off roadkill and whatnot, while Death’s Head Moths are omens, both good and bad.

Her specific design is meant to emulate the cutesy nature of these animals, while also showcasing the misconceptions about them. Similarly, the misconceptions about death.

She wears gloves at all times, preventing her death’s touch from harming others. In some au’s she’s cursed with death’s touch, others it’s in her nature.

She loves the color pink, but is very fond of hues of purple and black. Her favorite color, despite these claims, is green.

Jaime is ourwardly cocky and cunning. She loves playing tricks on the other Gods, causing chaos and mischief.

Her smile is like a predator hunting prey, but she has a soft spot/fondness for children. While she can be unnerving, she makes an effort to not come off as too off putting. Her confident nature leads her to having self discovery.

When someone dies, Jaime makes an effort to bring them like any grim reaper might, but with the added bonus of guiding them either in her vulture or moth form.

She is deeply fascinated by humans, and finds their shorter lives… confusing. While she does her best to ensure they are able to get where they need to after death, she has also been no stranger to helping them linger on earth.

Her favorite foods include warm autumn soups, pumpkins and coffee. She loves autumn in particular due to the orange and brown hues, and the start of the end of the seasonal cycle.

[drabbles-of-writing]

Please gush more about this wings AU thing

aaaAAAAAA sir you’ve opened the floodgates

K so most things are similar to canon? But there’s wings and that’s fun. Luz is just a common lil house sparrow, nothing particularly special about her. Eda, on the other hand, is a whole melting pot. Hybrids between different species are a thing, but the thing is, the hybrid traits show up in color and mannerisms of said bird. Wing shape sticks to only one specific species. Eda got the owl gene, but has a mess of other birds in her, too. She’s got raven (shiny things), cardinal, scarlet tanager, vulture, probably goose, and many others. Lilith was given the raven wing shape, which added to the reason on why she dyed her hair, so she can at least look like a pureblood.

Willow was pretty easy, hummingbirds fit her Aesthetic. But she’s also Buff, and I thought it’d be funny if she was a giant hummingbird, since those bad boys are, as far as I know, bigger than house sparrows. Gus was a little more difficult. I wanted a small bird, but I didn’t know which. Then I looked up the white-breasted nuthatch and found that 1. they are very loud. 2. they will fight bigger birds. So obviously I had to go with that. Gus is babey but he is loud and he will fight. probably a bit of a mix with chickadee or finch in there somewhere, too. A fast bird just seemed to fit Amity. But I wanted a fast but dainty-ish bird, not like a hawk or eagle. She was almost a gyrfalcon, but mutuals thought an american kestrel would fit her better. They are tiny, they are fast, and they are babey. Mattholomule was obvious. Shrikes are assholes. That’s just how it is. Boscha gave off the vibe of a bird of prey who would destroy me. But parrots could also bite my face off without blinking so I went with pretty and deadly. Lovebirds have a color similar to Boscha and also her being a bird with that name was funny so I chose it. Skara as a songbird was obvious, she’s in the bard track after all. So a nightingale was inevitable. Simple feathers, but with a beautiful voice. Viney,,,,,,honestly I just thought of birds that hang around other animals and came up with Oxpecker. She’s also probably a bit of a melting pot with dove, egret, and a couple different starlings. Jerbo is tall. Secretary birds are tall. Enough said. Belos was almost a bearded vulture, but I decided against it. I decided “let’s give him the biggest wings imaginable. simply because I can” so I chose the wandering albatross, the bird with a wingspan of twelve feet. Yeah, they’re thin, but these guys can also fly for a really long time, and idk, I thought the threat of that looked interesting.

In this AU, the rich don’t really,,,,fly. Flying, in the high-class, is seen as too much work. People who don’t fly are seen as powerful because they have better things to do, or they simply have no need for it. This has led to a couple of high-folk simply,,,,,not knowing how to fly. Also a lot of wing muscle issues. The twins can fly, not well, but they can fly. Amity, on the other hand.....can’t. At all. Of course, nobody else knows this. Choosing not to fly is one thing, but not knowing how is a disgrace. 

Luz is a different story. She uses her wings all the time, which helps strengthen them. It’s not just because she flies often, but because she is constantly moving them. She uses them as extra hands to push and pull things, she flaps them excitedly and hovers an inch or two off the ground when excited, she hangs them when she’s tired or sad, she flares them when she’s mad, and she just moves them around when she talks or is showing off something. She simply cannot hold them still. Which is fine for her, since sparrow wings are small and thin, but for Eda, who also moves her wings a lot, it’s a hassle. It’s a common occurrence for something to fall over in the Owl House because neither of these two can hold still.

Also, they have more than just wings. That’s some weak shit right there. They’ve got tails, patches of feathers, can make chirps similar to their species, if their species has crests of feathers or a certain piece of feather(s) that stands out, it shows up. Along with dots of color if it stands out. Peacocks have those three frills on their heads plus faint whites around their eyes, turkeys have those dangly things I’m too lazy to look up the name of, and sometimes the size of the bird affects a person's height. The whole sha bam. It’s hell for Eda, who’s a blend of at least 5 different birds. What surprise will today bring? Who knows!

There’s also of course, accessories and fashion for wings. Jewelry, ribbons, scarves and silk that can be pinned or pierced on wings and sometimes tails. Of course, the rich have the most lavish, but the prettier ones are usually very heavy and weigh down flight near completely. And trying to fly with ribbons or silk around wings is difficult, and can tangle and cause birds to crash. In fact, some types of silk or techniques for fashioning wings are banned or heavily mandated due to the hazards and accidents that occur. Fake feathers are also a thing, usually for those who want their wings to look more grand, hide knives in their wings, or, recently, to hide clipped wings. Binding wings are also a thing, though they are typically only for prisoners or for people with such big/broken wings that they can’t keep them closed properly. These are usually covers that wrap around the entire abdomen to keep the wings shut, but for people who don’t want others to know they need them binded, there are thin strings that stretch across the backs of wings that hold them shut or up at a certain angle. Some people put painful pricks right underneath their scapulars to keep their wings at a regal posture. There are also piercings. Some are rings, some are simply nubs. A common piercing is to piercing the base and tip of the membrane and hang a thin chain between the two. Emperor Belos has a tradition of stabbing hooks through the membrane of prisoners and hanging them by their wings alone before they are to be petrified. 

There’s also a little unofficial tradition with gifting feathers. A person will pluck a feather from their wings (sometimes tails but that’s more uncommon) and give it to someone. The more important the feather, the more you mean to someone. It’s not inherently romantic, it’s more of a way you show you care about someone, but it can be. Scapular (base feathers) and primary feathers are the important ones. They’re the feathers that are the closest to said person or their the feathers that are required for flight, they’re usually shown off with pride when they’re gifted to someone. Often a simple string with the single feather on it, but earrings and bracelets are also used. 

Luz has a necklace each from her friends and family. She has a primary feather from her mother, a primary and scapular feather from Eda, a primary covert from Willow, and a secondary covert from Gus. She would later get a secondary feather from Amity that would eventually be replaced with a primary feather. She keeps them all on one necklace in her room and switches them up every now and again. Sometimes she’ll wear only one feather, sometimes she’ll wear a few, or all at once. There’s no particular pattern, she just wears what she wants to that day. 

The grom note in Enchanting Grom Fright is replaced with Amity wanting to give someone a marginal covert feather (she was going to go with scapular but decided that might be too much). Luz going with her to grom coincides with her gifting a secondary feather to Amity, and Amity gifting the same type back. Amity kept that feather with her at near all-times as a necklace she hides under her shirt. A secondary and primary covert feather from Willow and Gus respectively would soon join Luz’s every now and again.

Luz would also teach Amity how to fly, once she realizes that Amity can’t. Course it’s in secret, nobody can know that Amity Blight can’t fly, but Willow and Gus do show up to help. Thing is, it hurts. Amity has barely used her wings in fourteen years. Her parents always made her hold them at a certain angle and she could barely express herself with them. They were more like large pieces of jewelry than anything. So when first learning to fly, she has to stop after only ten minutes, because her wings hurt. They ache and cramp and she’s convinced it’s too late for her to learn how to fly, her wings simply aren’t used to it. Luz, not one to back out on her word, basically becomes a coach instructor. Once a week she drags Amity off into a clearing where nobody else is and basically chucks her into the sky (stronk wings). And after a while, Amity’s able to go longer while gliding or warming up her wings. Ten minutes becomes fifteen, then twenty, then thirty, and suddenly, she can go over an hour practicing without getting tired. And you better believe she shows off to Willow and Gus. Maybe even Lilith a little bit during training, though that’s mostly on accident. Races, of course, happen a lot. 

I’m already ramblin’ a lot and I do wanna write this eventually, so I’ll stop here for now. But know that there are romantic flights, Amity’s parents do not like the ‘common species,’ wings can be clipped, Eda is not immune to wing injury, and Barcus is trying to avoid all the bird drama, unsuccessfully.

[agathaarts]

More art of Malakur, my big asskicker orc barbarian I’ve posted about before...and her family! First off is her and her kids- Malakur has four kids, two she bore herself and two she adopted in, which is pretty common. The Road Masters (the culture she’s a part of) raise children communally, so it’s expected and accounted for to take in children.

They also don’t usually garner an “official” name until they become full adults, which entails taking on the responsibility of managing one’s own home and whatnot- none of her kids are quite at that stage, yet, though her eldest is basically getting there, even if he’s dragging his feet. Until that point, kids are given nicknames or temporary names based off their traits or hopes for the future, which are readily changed to suit them better.

And down at the bottom is Malakur’s wife, the INCREDIBLY COOL Korrath Korrash, master hunter and teacher, ranger of renown!

I’m having a lot of fun designing their clothes, tinkering with bits and bobs to make them look a little different from anything else I’ve seen. At first I wasn’t sure on keeping colors limited to red and blue, but it’s really grown on me and I like the blocky, subtle patterns of their clothes. Also I guess everyone has their abs out. Crop tops ONLY for the Road Masters.

Under the cut for more information about each!

Going down the list...

Eldest Son - “Grumpy”, “Frownyfangs”, “Ponderer” This adopted grouch is stricken by the terrible malaise of becoming an adult and not knowing what you want in life- which is something a lot of us can empathize with. Trying to determine who he wants to be is a heavy burden, especially given that he’s both thinking about and reluctant to leave his society, but his mothers kind of assume that he’ll leave and are getting ready to send him off with everything he’ll need, and their best wishes. He has a very good memory and some magical talent that could use shaping and strengthening, so who knows where that’ll go!

Youngest (and Malakur herself) - “Lil Climbing Monkey”, “Wiggler”, “GET DOWN FROM THERE-” The other adopted one of the bunch, this little troublemaker has no fear, a desire to climb to the highest point of every setting, and the sheer childish mischief needed to always find the worst place to get stuck. Malakur actually found them while she was out travelling, and returned home with them- fortunately, the Road Masters are very socially accepting of “I found this perfectly good baby in a dumpster? Can you believe it?! Anyways it’s mine now.”

Second Youngest - “Leaf”, “Greenfingers”, “Lil’ Druid” Malakur’s second-born, she takes after her mother in the sense of having a bit of connection to a world beyond the physical...though unlike Malakur, who is a speaker of the dead and bare a connection to the spirit world, Leaf has a connection to the earth and the wild- an early druid in the making! So strong is her inclination that she received instructions on how to summon a companion in a dream, and promptly did so the very next day. Which is very impressive! But also, you know that bit in Lilo and Stitch where Lilo says “Send me the nicest angel you have” and it cuts to Stitch laughing maniacally? She managed to summon a little bastard.

Summoned Leshy - “Barnburner” Turns out you shouldn’t use a bunch of burning nettle and poisonous plants when summoning a forest spirit. You just get a little monster, and Leaf isn’t quite strong enough to enforce her will over her summon yet, so...it runs a bit wild. It’s a learning experience!

Second Eldest - “Furious”, “Little Warrior”, “Rising Star”, “Overachiever” Malakur’s firstborn, she’s got BIG aspirations to be legendary someday, and has already started. The equivalent of one of those super-driven-Grade-A students, by any other metric, she’s got determination to spare and has already started making a name for herself as a fierce combatant and skilled leader. She’s gonna go FAR someday, as soon as she can nail down the details of what she wants and get her brother off his ass so she can be the official “eldest sibling” in the nest and take charge.

Korrath Korrash - [Borat voice MY WIFE] Malakur’s bonded, Korrath Korrash is a hunter, a teacher, and a creche-keeper, largely splitting her time between patrols, hunts, and helping to raise children communally. Many a child’s first successfully thrown javelin or well-aimed slingstone is due to her patient coaching, and while not an adventurer, she’s known as a capable ranger in some circles. Her bearded vulture companion is VERY cool and they have matching hairstyles! She also got to touch a unicorn once, having earned it’s respect by killing a corrupted monster that was ravaging the landscape, and hasn’t stopped humble bragging about it since.

[thenecropolix]

Doodle dump of my oc Khamael

Got the idea to use a bearded vulture for reference when comin' up with a color palette for her; I thought the colors would be fitting since Khamael's name is an alternate spelling for the name of an angel of war

In regards to their hands, the talons are actually based off of a Harpy Eagle (the largest eagle in the world); I really wanted to give this sense of intimidation with them that could contrast with people's initial preconception of an angel (a contrast/foil to Gavreel, who isn't intimidating despite being a demon)

[bechnokid]

I’m in the process of redesigning one of my villain gijinka teams, and ever since Sam told me about bearded vultures, I knew that I wanted to base Mabel off of one! So here’s a rough draft of how she might look. Which is her real hair color?? It’s a mystery!!

[sinsbymanka]

The Viscount’s Muse (NSFW, Smut Ahoy)

Post DAI - Maria Cadash finds the Viscount’s smut and gets... inspired. This can also be found at AO3! Smut is under the cut. Thank you @tuffypelly for the inspiration!

“Sod it all.” Maria mumbled under her breath, collapsing in Varric’s desk chair. It groaned as if it too thought the situation hopeless. 

“My lady?” The steward asked blandly, stopping his long recitation of matters needing her attention. 

“Sorry, keep going.” She waved him on, glaring at her husband’s desk. “The Comte de Launcet wants what again?” 

The steward continued his droning and Maria listened with only half an ear. Varric’s latest serial, The Murderous Magpie, had been more of a hit that anyone could have dreamed. His next Hard in Hightown, according to all the critics and a rabid fan base. Who couldn’t love a daring, rakish heroine from the streets framed for countless murders of mighty nobles by a shadowy faction with nefarious motives? 

It was transparently based on Bea Cadash of course, but beyond their little circle, nobody else had made the connection. Bea herself actually picked up a copy, read the whole damn thing,  then wrote a real honest-to-goodness letter critiquing it in detail. Maria herself usually got mere notes, laced with profanity, from Bea. A letter was nearly unheard of. 

So, of course, both Varric’s editor and publisher were breathing down his damn neck for the next chapter. Because her husband, of course, didn’t have enough things spinning on his many plates. Ruling the city, managing both their affairs with the guild, raising their daughter, making sure the little operation trying to track Solas down at the Gallows didn’t collapse while Maria vanished into the crossroads for months…

She’d been gone too long the last time she left. Poor Varric must have been drowning in it all. She swallowed the thought guiltily and brushed aside the neat stacks of papers on his desk impatiently. She promised she’d read it before he sent it off but she couldn’t sodding find it. She was about ready to push it to tomorrow when she seized upon a neat stack of Varric’s handwritten notes in a drawer.

She lifted them triumphantly and let her eyes scan the page. 

Mariele’s plump lips opened in greedy anticipation, silver eyes flashing dangerously beneath the black lace of her mask. Viktor already felt himself swelling to attention under her hungry, predatory gaze. She looked as if she’d swallow him whole. A lesser man would fall to her whims immediately… 

Oh for the love of Andraste and all their bleeding ancestors, Varric must have finally given into Cassandra’s urging to write the next chapter of Swords and Shields. Set in Orlais, by the sound of it. Amused, Maria flipped to the next page. 

Her nimble fingers undid his trousers before he could even protest and the bard dropped to her knees in a rustle of pale silk. The moonlight in the garden turned her skin to pearl and marble, turned her hair to flickering crimson flame. She released his heavy manhood into the night, wrapping slender fingers around it and letting her pink tongue dart out over those tempting, kiss swollen lips. 

Viktor couldn’t help himself. He dropped his hand to the bare shoulders exposed by the wispy gown, traced his thumb up the pale, white scars accenting her silken skin. 

“Mariele…” He shuddered under her expert fingers. “Sweet Andraste…” 

“Oh,” The beautiful creature purred. “But I’m so much sweeter.” 

Crimson hair. Silver eyes. Scars climbing up her shoulder. Mariele and Viktor. She wondered if she’d make it through the rest of the draft to find out Mariele only had one blighted arm after losing the other to freak elven magic shenanigans. 

“My lady?” The steward asked, taking in her sudden, frozen posture. “Is everything quite alright?” 

“Of course.” She answered mechanically. “Tell the Comte we can’t assist him at this time. Where is the Viscount at the moment?”

“Meeting with the shipbuilders guild, my lady. Then luncheon with some merchants from Antiva, contract negotiations with the city of Markham, and then you’ve both accepted an invitation to a dinner hosted by one of the Merchant Guild’s…” 

Perfect. She’d been considering cheerfully murdering him, witnesses be damned, but a Merchant’s Guild dinner would be far, far worse than death. “We haven’t sent our regrets about not attending yet?” 

“I believe your plan was to feign an emergency.” The steward remarked wryly. “Fire in the kitchens was next in your rotation of excuses.” 

“We’ll save that for the next one. Please send a note to my husband stating we’ll be attending the guild dinner. I’ll meet him there.”

“Are… are you certain?” The steward asked, agog. Maria shuffled all the papers in the drawer into a neat stack and leaned back in Varric’s chair. She lifted her eyes to the steward and raised one eyebrow. 

“Did I stutter?” She asked sweetly, the tone dripping honey and venom. 

“No! No, ma’am.” He added, gulping nervously. 

“And can you ask the Hawkes if they’ll keep my daughter for the evening? I think we’ll be returning late.” Maria lifted the first paper to her eyes in clear dismissal and watched with a rather large amount of amusement as the steward scuttled away. 

Varric, Varric, Varric… she thought with no small degree of hidden fondness. If this had made it to his publisher, she’d shave his chest hair off herself, but deep down she knew it hadn’t. He’d been naughty, though. That wasn’t in doubt. 

He’d missed her. So he’d written smutty literature starring them. She could already tell it was absolutely awful. And glorious. She couldn’t wait to tell Cass. 

xx

At first, Varric thought his wife had been kidnapped and the note sent under duress. After all, the only person who hated guild dinners as much as he did had to be Maria. After he’d managed to ascertain that, yes, she did indeed order the steward to send it, he’d assumed it was a joke.

Until he went searching for her and saw his finery laid out neatly on the bedspread, a command if he ever saw one. After that, he desperately tried to track her down, but as usual if Maria didn’t want to be found, nobody could find her. The only one who could, their precocious daughter, had already been shuffled to Hawke’s to spend the night. That, of course, meant Maria was indeed deadly serious about attending the guild dinner. 

With absolutely no other explanation offered, of course, because she was the most maddening woman he’d ever met. 

He took his time making it over to the quarter, showing up rather later than fashionable. Shocked, skeptical expressions latched onto him as soon as he entered the hall. Followed, immediately, by a bronto’s charge of dwarves in his direction. Complaints. Flattery. Threats. Varric reached for a glass of wine, immediately wished it was something stronger. He was going to absolutely murder Maria for putting him through this. Particularly since she was nowhere to be found. Clearly, she needed a distraction for something and decided this was the best one she could offer up. 

“The price of parchment is outrageous!” A dwarf growled, spittle catching at his beard as he worked himself into a proper frothing rage. “The tariffs at the harbor are bleeding us all dry. If you can’t allow free trade, I’ll…” 

“Surely the young mistress is getting a bit old to be unbetrothed.” A woman with elaborate, heavy braids sighed. “It isn’t good for a girl’s reputation to…” 

Their Sunshine was barely five and not for sale regardless. For the love of…

“There you are.” 

Oh thank fucking Andraste. Maria’s good arm slipped into the crook of his easily, her lips curved up in wicked, sinful amusement. “Having fun?” She asked, far too sweetly. 

He shot her a pained glare even as her mere presence caused everyone to wisely take one step back. Despite the elegant gown and the pretty braids in her hair, Maria’s every move screamed lethal grace. No guild seat or crown could ever quite make her reputable in the eyes of the very worst of Kirkwall. 

And tonight, apparently, Maria had no plans for appearing even slightly respectable. Her gown was nearly the same color as her hair, blazing ruby red among the dull, drab colors of the guild. It dipped scandalously low, displaying her cleavage with delicious perfection. The thin straps fell off her slender shoulders in wisps of chiffon. The silk bodice curved and clung to her wicked figure like a glove. 

Varric’s mouth went dry as he took her in and he nearly forgot how annoyed he was. Nearly. 

He dropped his lips to her ear and bit back the smug satsifaction at the nearly imperceptible shiver his breath sent through her. “This is not my idea of a good time, Princess.” 

She laughed, low and soft, the ripples sending heat right into his belly. “Come dance with me then.” She challenged, tossing her head back proudly. 

Anything to get away from this crowd of vultures, besides, he never could tell her no. “As my lady demands.” He smoothly slipped his other arm around her waist, admiring the way the silk warmed with the heat of her skin underneath it. The crowd around them parted with muttered, muted disappointment pierced with disapproving glares. 

The ballroom floor itself was full of nothing but awkward, gawking teenagers. After all, dancing was for the young. And humans, of course. Certainly not for respected members of the guild and their stolid, unimpressed wives. The ones Maria outshone without any effort. 

The youths scattered before them, ducklings before swans. Varric took Maria’s hand and stepped back, bowed over it, then placed a searing kiss on the back of her palm. Because he wanted to, (dammit he never could resist that red dress) he pressed another even more desperate one on her fingertips. 

Her lips tipped up, amused in spite of herself, and then she slipped into the space between his arms like she was meant to be there, like it was made only for her. Her hand rested lightly within his and she pressed her delectable breasts against the silk of his tunic. “There’s a disappointing number of buttons done up on this shirt, Varric.” She whined quietly. 

“Hey, you picked it. Thought you were trying to tell me to show some decorum.”

“Never.” She sighed happily. “How can I possibly flaunt you when you’re hiding your best assets?” 

He chuckled, squeezed her fingers within his and dropped his voice low. “For fucks sake, Maria, why are we here?” 

“We were invited.” She replied, gray eyes widening innocently in her face. “Ages ago, remember?” 

“I tend to block out those invitations. Makes them easier to ignore.” Varric’s fingers traced the stiff boning of the gown at the flare of her waist. “You’re not going native on me, are you?” 

“Dressed like this?” Maria asked, laughing as Varric spun her under his arm. He caught her securely and she pressed even more firmly against him, a predatory smile dancing on her lips. “The Guild wouldn’t even know what to do with me.” 

They never did. Fools, every single one of them. “You were awfully late arriving. Suspiciously late.” He pointed out.

“I was on time, actually.” She purred, delighted with herself. “You were the late one, serah. I took advantage of your appearance to extricate myself from a rather lascivious Master Dace and explore all the hidden little nooks and crannies in the garden.”

He groaned and dropped his face into the coiled braids framing her face. She smelled like honey, cloves, cinnamon. A unique and beguiling scent that clung to her no matter what. “So you sacrificed me to snoop around for something.” 

“In a manner of speaking.” She agreed, nuzzling into his neck, her breath warm against his jaw. “I read something very interesting today and this was the only way to get to the bottom of it while ensuring the guilty party squirmed a little.” 

“Nobody’s listening, Princess.” He chuckled and jabbed his chin at the empty dance floor and the disapproving crowd miles away. “Don’t spare the salacious details. I demand to be entertained if I’ve got to be shoved into this bucket of rats.” 

Maria hummed lightly under her breath, her smile wicked and sharp as diamonds out of the corner of his eye. The music stopped, but he tugged her more tightly to his form and waited for the next song to strum up. As soon as it, Maria lifted her lips to his ear. “I’ll try to remember what I read. You’ll have to make allowances if it’s not verbatim. It got me rather… hot under the collar.” 

Was it his imagination, or was there a slight, breathy undertone to that statement? It of course could mean that she’d been furious by whatever she’d discovered, some nasty little guild secret. Maria’s temper meant there was a pretty good chance he’d be needing to have blood cleaned up off of some surface… 

But when she purred the words, he pictured a rather different kind of heat. One well suited to the red dress she wore. 

“I was in the study upstairs.” Maria recounted quietly, little puffs of air against his overheated skin. “Looking for that next chapter of your serial, the one that definitely isn’t based on my sister. I never did find it.” 

“That’s because it’s on the desk in the library.” He supplied less than helpfully. 

“Good to know.” She laughed. “Instead… well, I’ll just tell you what I found at your desk.” 

He made a mental note that he needed to remind the messengers, again, that guild correspondence went right into the rubbish bin. “All ears, Princess.” 

“Let me think…” Maria trailed off, her thumb lightly tracing his palm as they glided smoothly, thoughtlessly, together. Easily in tune with each other, just the way they always were. “It started…”

He waited, eager and amused at her drawing it out. It had to be damn good if she was taking such care to tell the story. 

His amusement vanished almost instantly as the words began to pour from her lips, hot and filthy in her sultry, smoky voice. 

“Mariele had many a man in her time as a bard, surely. A woman of her exquisite beauty didn’t lack for lovers on cold, lonely nights. But Viktor was no fumbling knight. It had been years since he left his sinful, boisterous exploits behind him, but his deft, practiced fingers remembered exactly how to turn a beautiful woman into a puddle of pure, uncomplicated need…” 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

“Forget the steps, Varric?” His wife teased dangerously as Varric very nearly stumbled to a stop in the middle of their dance. She took over leading, eyes sparkling with danger. “Your sinful, boisterous exploits a thing of the past?” 

He was a dead man walking. She’d brought him here to torture him before she shot him. Probably with his own crossbow. “I can explain.” He protested weakly. 

“I’m not done.” Maria’s imperious voice brooked no argument. “I forget the next part. But I clearly remember this bit…” 

He groaned, tried to beg her to stop, but she didn’t heed him at all. “Viktor nearly forgot what it felt like to have a nubile young lady on her knees, but Mariele could hardly be called a lady, particularly with his steel between her perfect, plump lips. ‘Is this what you wanted?’ Viktor asked, twisting his fingers in the crimson braids she wore. The only answer was Mariele’s pleased, throaty moan…” 

Maria twitched her hips to the side threateningly and Varric pressed hard up against her to hide the effect her words were having on his own cock. His filth spilling from her lips was… sweet Maker, he hadn’t known he could want her more than he usually did. “Maria…” 

“My favorite part went…” Maria paused and brought her lips closer to his ear until he could feel their feather light touch as she whispered. “Viktor ripped the delicate silk covering her glistening mound, too crazed by her teasing grin and wicked silver eyes to do anything but plunge his sword into her snug sheathe and…” 

His breath whooshed out, leaving him dizzy. His hands dug into the silk covering her hips and he struggled to think past the liquid arousal running through his blood. “How dead am I?” He asked weakly. He could feel her wicked grin against his neck. 

“What happened to no kissing and telling, Varric?” She asked lightly. “Does Cassandra really need to know about the birthmark on my…” 

“Fuck, it wasn’t for…” Varric couldn’t think. Her perfume was too heady, her eyes sparking, mouth curled up dangerously just the way he loved best, and he couldn’t stop thinking about his cock in her mouth, her warm wet heat… 

“It was just for you?” Maria’s words sent shivers up his spine and she untangled her hand from his to twist her fingers through his loose hair. “Your dirty little secret when I’m gone? Dreaming up what Mariele and Viktor get up to in elaborate Orlesian gardens…” 

“Yes.” He confessed as she rolled shamelessly against him. He could barely hear the music over the pure, screeching need thrumming in his veins. He missed her, Maker he missed her when she was gone. All he could do was spill out the things he wanted to do to her while he waited for her to come back and warm his heart, share their bed, send his entire life into chaos and…

She pulled away and beamed into his face, flushing prettily pink under her freckles. She traced her fingers from his neck, over his jaw, down his chest and hummed thoughtfully under her breath while her eyes sparkled with mirth and… 

Lust. An inferno of roaring lust. 

Maybe she’d kill him, but it would be the best kind of death. 

She twisted her fingers with his again and turned, hiding his bulging cock strategically with her skirts while she dragged him off the wooden dance floor. Varric chuckled breathlessly as he followed her right through the crowd. Several guild members attempted to approach, but thought better of it as the Viscount and his wife slipped into the evening air of the gardens. He couldn’t see her face, but he’d seen Maria march into enough battles to know exactly what it looked like. 

He wouldn’t get in her damn way either when she was a woman with one thing on her mind. 

Thank the damn Maker that one thing was him. 

She shoved him into a dark nook, one she’d clearly scoped out for this purpose alone. It was hidden by a tall hedge and the soaring walls of the mansion behind them. As soon as the shadows enveloped them, Varric reached for her like a man starving, pressed her hard against the stones looming above them. “Minx.” He growled against her lips. “You’re a menace, Maria. You brought me here just to…” 

She brought her one arm up to her generous bosom and pulled something from the bodice, something dark and…

Lace. A lace mask just like the one in his filthy smut. Varric’s cock doubled in size and he reached out with unsteady fingers to pluck it from hers. Her grin was as smug and self-satisfied as a cat who’d eaten a canary, but his imagination was already on fire. “Turn around, baby.” He directed softly. 

“Is Viktor rather bossy, then?” She asked, but she turned and he gently fit the mask over her eyes, tying it with a simple knot over her braids. He dropped his hand to gently run his knuckles down the line of her neck, lower over the dip of her spine. He dropped his mouth to kiss down her right shoulder, tracing the scars that were left there, the remaining marks of the anchor that nearly…

Nearly, he reminded himself. But she survived, she was here, and she was warm, willing, pliant under his large hands when they settled over her waist. She tipped her head to the side to look over her shoulder at him, silver eyes shining in the moonlight, framed to the best effect by the black lace just like he knew they would be. 

She fluttered her lashes, the perfect imitation of an Orlesian coquette, and smoothly turned, dropping to her knees in one sinuous motion. His stomach knotted itself as her fingers reached to undo his laces with one efficient tug. 

“And what information am I trying to seduce out of you, my lord?” She asked in an almost flawless Orlesian accent, ruined only by the hint of her reckless laugh under the surface. “I couldn’t quite glean…”

“I’ve got to admit, Princess.” He saw stars, fought to keep his voice even, as her nimble fingers circled his cock. “The plot was secondary.” 

“Oh really?” She stroked him with her one hand, nothing but a light, teasing touch. “You know, some people read for the plot and skip these steamy scenes.” 

Those people must not have a damn pulse, but before he could retort, her lips opened and the sheer anticipation made him groan, thoughts fleeing as his mind was erased by warm, wet, sweet, sweet bliss and…

“Shit.” He swore, one hand steadying himself on the stone above her, the other twisting in her elaborate braids. He watched her mouth stretch around his girth obscenely, her eyes flicking from the task at hand to meet his and hold them as she worked to take his cock into her mouth inch by torturously slow inch. 

The sight alone was almost enough to make him cum. He ran his thumb over her cheek, voice unsteady, praise falling from it effortlessly. “You’re so beautiful. I love my cock in your mouth, baby. Sweet Andraste, Maria…” 

She laughed, a little bubble of it that brought something warm and bright to life in his chest. She pulled back, cock slipping from her swollen lips, eyes wicked and teasing. “She may be sweet.” She answered pertly. “But I’m sweeter.” 

His cheesy line from his smutty story. He laughed as well, but it tapered off into another long moan as she resumed her work. She slid him almost to the hilt inside her mouth, fingers wrapping around the last inch or so she couldn’t quite fit, slicking him with her saliva as she began to bob her head. 

“Maker I miss this when you’re away.” He continued, watching with worshipful zeal as she licked and sucked. His voice trembled with lust and awe. “It’s all I can think about at night. All I want. It isn’t enough to imagine your lips around me, isn’t enough to think of warm and wet your sweet cunt gets…”

She moaned around his length and the vibrations had him seeing stars. He curled his hand against the stone into a fist and watched her, the great rise and fall of her chest, her shining eyes on his framed by the sexy black lace. She sucked eagerly and his heart thumped unsteadily, liquid heat pooling in his groin. He tugged gently at her braids. “I want you. I want all of you, Maria baby please…” 

The wicked glint in her eyes resurfaced and she hummed around his length. Varric’s hips bucked in spite of himself and he tried, valiantly, to fight the urge to do it again and again until he spilled down her throat. She was ruthlessly driving him insane, playing into his fantasies, his desires, and he couldn’t…

She squirmed, shifting on her knees, and Varric knew she had to be as affected as he was, knew she had to be as needy and desperate. Perhaps more, in fact, since she’d been planning this little encounter all damn day without his knowledge. If Varric thought this would happen every time they came to one of these dinners… 

“Did you touch yourself?” He asked in a low growl. “Reading all that smut, knowing how bad I wanted you, what I wanted to do to you? How hot under the collar did it make you, Princess?” 

He could just picture her on their bed, legs spread, ass in the air and fingers dancing between her legs while she brought herself off to his words. 

She pulled off of him with an obscene plop, her lips shimmering with saliva, his cock shining the same way. She smirked up at him, that crooked little smile that belonged only to him. “Maybe a little.” 

Too far gone to be gentle, he grabbed her by the upper arms and hauled her to her feet, shoving her roughly back against the hard stone. Her fingers grabbed for the fasteners of his tunic, undoing them, sending at least one of them snapping, a button falling to the ground as she whimpered, his mouth devouring hers. She nipped his lip in sweet revenge and he began to pull up her skirts, rucking them around her hips and lifting her by her spread thighs. 

“Yes.” She keened, nails gouging his shoulder as she arched her back, pressing the creamy tops of her breasts to his greedy mouth. He wanted them out of the bodice, wanted her naked and in their bed begging for him as a fair turnabout for this little trick, but first…

First, he was going to fuck her thoroughly against this wall. 

His fingers felt the sopping wet lace of her smalls and tore through them in a moment, the shredded fabric falling in pieces to the grass. She laughed again, but he captured it with his mouth and her arm twisted around his neck, holding him to her as he thrust smoothly inside her. 

Her cunt clenched down on him, muscles rippling with his sudden entrance, but her thighs curved around his waist, scrabbling for purchase, the hard heels of her boots urging him on as they pressed against the small of his back. 

“Tease.” He growled, moving from her lips to nip lightly at her exposed throat as he started a bruising pace, making sure to thrust right into the spot he knew she loved so much. “Wanton little…” 

“You love it.” She bit the lobe of his ear. “And you deserve it. Writing that terrible, amazing smutty…” 

One particularly brutal thrust made her words drop away into a pure, animal moan of need, one that changed into his name as he tightened his grip on her ass. “Strong criticism from someone who wanted to reenact it.” 

She giggled, caught out, pressing an almost sugary kiss to his jaw. “I had a thing for Viktor.” 

Be still his heart. This woman. This amazing, wonderful, insane woman of his. He captured her lips with his own again, tenderly this time, even as his furious pace continued and Maria shuddered in his arms, muscles tightening, body going rigid. 

“Wait.” He muttered against her lips, liquid heat pooling in his spine. “Wait, baby. Wait for me, please Maria…” 

“Varric…” She half sobbed his name in desperation, but that was all it took. His movements became stiff, wooden, his cock swelling inside her. This tipped her over the edge and she half wailed her approval, milking him of his seed and burying her head into his shoulders, trembling against him. He thrust deep one final time and pressed his lips against her temple, mind going hazy at the edges as he spent inside her welcoming body. 

He lowered Maria back to the ground, both of them leaning against each other, too drained to stand. The garden was quiet. No sound but their ragged breathing. Varric wondered exactly how many of the Merchant’s Guild illustrious members had heard them. At least, he thought smugly, it had been a fine performance. 

And since they’d made a brief appearance at an event, they were free and clear of the guild for months.

“Do you think they’ll finally kick us both out?” Maria asked quietly with a satisfied giggle. 

Varric huffed weakly in return. “Doubtful. They’d never risk making us so damn happy. Poor Sunshine’s gonna inherit both those seats and spend the rest of her days cursing us both.” 

Varric bent to retrieve the scraps of lace on the ground, but she stopped him. “Don’t.” She ordered, eyes shimmering with mischief. “Leave them. I want to hear about their reaction tomorrow.” 

He laughed and settled on doing his trousers back up while she leaned against him, unsteady as a drunk. He kissed her forehead sweetly and wrapped his arm around her waist. 

“I unlocked the gate back here.” Maria snuggled into his shoulder. “And I told the kitchen staff to leave the side entrance open.” 

“You think of everything.” Varric murmured, smoothing her gown back over her hips. 

“Not everything.” Maria smirked in the moonlight, rightfully smug. “This was, after all, your idea.” 

Varric softened, pulling her tightly to his side as they wandered down the pristine garden paths in the darkness.  “But you, as always, are my muse.”

[infini-tree]

bc i cant watch the new season bc stuff is Buggy on my side, some tpod au headcanons/concepts before i Forget Abt Them :

general stuff

hot off the heels of kfp3, the sudden displacement and sudden rushing back of qi messes up with all of china and now several bad guys are Aware and want to capitalize on this wild energy. and by several its mostly jindiao

restructuring of villain order. idk what happened in s2 so dont Spoil It but jindiao's the final big bad that needs to be dealt with but the water deer clan still appear throughout the entire "series" before then

po isnt here as a teacher. he and the five are busy with repairing the valley and essentially rebalancing all of china. youd just hear references of them. this also means that ping or cart have no reason to go to the panda village which is an Absolute Travesty

the four constellations of the jade palace are their respective teachers

zhizhu and bunnidharma are the same character

jindiao is just a bearded vulture powered by stolen qi-- none of that “actually a dragon possessing a vulture body and that isn’t Addressed”

the kids'/constellations' weapons have star motifs based on namesake, but eventually their powers evolve to have aesthetic aspects congruent to the respective kid. for instance, basically what im saying here is that jing’s healing aura does the tpod equivalent of ed alchemizing things to look Edgy As Hell

bao

drama kid that hangs out w mei mei sometimes; callback to that one panda paws short where they try to upstage each other

main character arc is learning to be less selfish and accepting help

since bei's a softshell tort the barrier would be both flatter than the canon, but more malleable/absorbs shock better

can also be a simple bubble shape

can be soundproof-- good for secret plan making and team hangouts !

other kids can give it secondary effects if they combine forces (fire barrier from fan tong/invisibility from jing/overall increase in radius from nu hai; abilities can in theory stack but it adds overall pressure on bao)

nu hai

name not literally written as "girl" here

could be lei lei, with that being her old childhood nickname that unfortunately stuck and shes trying desperately to unstick. still Hyperfocuses on kung fu/tigress and gets excited easily

technically the youngest (bao's the Alpha Twin lmao), very self conscious about it and as a result of trying to emulate tigress and the aforementioned anxiety she tries to overcompensate by bossing people around since shes the Designated Leader-- main arc involves growing past that and realizing that she should be a friend first before a leader

her ability's the hardest to really specify-- she could just keep the ranged hadouken thing to balance out the melee/tank/healer in the proverbial party with her being ranged. or just give her an actual bow and arrow

jing

“angry weird kid”; up the weird/macabre part of her personality a bit more

weird quibble but her and bao should switch clothes. the medals on her hanfu makes more sense for attention-seeking bao, while the muted colors/sporty headband thing are more appropriate for jing "this place smells like dead bodies. neat" pawsofdestiny

main character growth is being less stubborn and less-one track mind abt fighting

still has healing ability, but can just ‘heal’ to do what are essentially stat buffs

still has that whole “possessed/manipulated by jindiao” plot/arc bc that was legit the best part of the first season and i would be remiss if i took that out

fan tong

for the love of god stop with the toilet humor based cowardice. like continue being timid and scared of confrontation but please

lbr hes bullied bc of how he doesn’t get certain cues/jokes by other kids outside the group; smarter than he looks but is too timid to actually Say His Thoughts. main character arc is being confident and “being brave isnt about not being scared of stuff its doing things Despite being scared” all that stuff

still a sword boy ! his sword originally manifests as a jian (like guiying’s) but after some time it morphs into something that looks like a dadao or niuweidao as a stealthy reference to humble origins

[acehotel]

“Patience Is A Vulture”: An Interview with Creative Growth Artist Ray Vickers

Ray Vickers thinks it’s “un-American not to have a pet.” It just is. The Oakland-born and bred artist also wants you to know about the exact Thursday he was born, his 120-pound dog named Ace (maybe our favorite dog name to date) and his popular series of dead rabbit illustrations. For this edition of Inside Job — a monthly artists’ series led by LAND Gallery’s Sophia Cosmadopoulos — Vickers chats about his nine years at Creative Growth, his artistic process and all the animals that he’s taken care of.

Creative Growth is an Oakland-based non-profit that serves artists with developmental, mental and physical disabilities, providing a professional studio environment for artistic development, gallery exhibition and representation.

Ray Vickers: Did you know patience is a vulture, ain’t that how it go?

Sophia Cosmadopoulos: I think the saying is patience is a virtue.

RV: I think it’s vulture. And if I found your phone and gave it to you, that’s called a good samurai?

SC: It’s whatever you want it to be. Is that some pepperoni on your drawing?

RV: Oh my goodness [brushes it off]. I told my mom and sister last week, a few days ago, if I see someone, a man, doing a horrible crime, I would take my belt off and spank him. If I see a man doing a crime, I would whoop him. I would hit him with his belt in my right hand and take my belt off and whoop him with my left.  

SC: So a double whoop?

RV: Yeah, so what questions you got for me?

SC: Well, would you like to start off by introducing yourself? RV: I’m god. No, I’m not. I am Ray Vickers. V-I-C-K-E-R-S, period. We are in Oakland, California. I was born and raised out here, lemme see, about 31 years. I am 31. Been on this earth 31 years. I lived in Hayward years ago for a short period. But I have been in Oakland pretty much all these years.

SC: Yeah, I grew up out here too. But in San Francisco.

RV: It’s freezing out there, huh? I heard because it be by the ocean.

SC: It is definitely foggier. But now I live in New York where it gets really cold. Have you ever been out there?

RV: No, I can’t really travel because of my pets. I got my two dogs and I got my lizard. And nobody can really feed my lizard his worms. I have a bearded dragon and I feed him mealworms — they are about an inch. My mom will hold my lizard but she won’t feed him worms. So nobody will feed my lizard worms, nobody will walk my dog, he’s nine, he’s 120 pounds, he’s strong. So he used to pull me when I walk him, but he doesn’t pull me no more. So I take his leash and I put it around my waist and I take the leash and I put it around his neck, you know, a chain collar, but he doesn’t really pull me like he used to. His name is Ace.

SC: And what is your lizard’s name?

RV: Jax. J-A-X. He turned a year old on April 19, 2019. I got him when he was small but he’s still growing. He has autism, he don’t like changes. I kiss him on the lips. He don’t like changes. I chilled with him yesterday for about an hour, but I didn’t have time for him on Tuesday or Wednesday. So I picked him up yesterday and he was mad at me because I couldn’t hold him on Tuesday or Wednesday and he tried to bite me. But I told him, if he bite me, I am not going to feed him. It took about 30 seconds and he calmed down. Then I picked him up and I put him, you know, to chill in my pocket for a little bit. I let him sleep. I can pick him up and he can be on my shoulder, chilling with me.

SC: I have never heard of a lizard with autism.

RV: Yeah, it happens. They can have ADD, ADHD, all that.

SC: When did you first start coming to Creative Growth?

RV: Almost nine years, I believe. I come here four days a week: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday. But Tuesdays I am here from 9:30 to two o’clock because I leave to do my dog walking job, walking my friend’s dog for an hour. She’s a German Shepherd mix. She’s not big, she’s medium, she’s still strong. I leave today at 2:45, I do a dog walking job. But since the time change, unfortunately I don’t get home till about close to five o’clock, where it’s almost dark and dangerous. I hate to be out in a dark period. You know, I have a big dog and I have pepper spray but I still hate to be out in the dark, because that’s when a lot of badness happens. So I leave here every Tuesday about two o’clock on the nose. I am here four days a week.

SC: Can you describe an average day here at Creative Growth? RV: It has its days. It’s good. It’s like, me? I have autism and I say and do stuff without thinking, but I know how to control my impulsiveness here. Like if I saw you talking to somebody, I wouldn’t walk up behind you and talk to you, because I know how to control my ADD and everything. I wouldn’t just butt in and say something because I have R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

SC: And can you describe your artwork to me?

RV: I just draw whatever is in my head. Something simple, nothing fancy. I do dead rabbits that a lot of people like. I don’t know why people like them, but they do. They sell quick.

SC: When did you start making work about dead rabbits?

RV: Well I was watching TV and I had a freezer in my room. I was watching TV and I had a step, kinda like a stairway thing, a step stool, and it fell on my freezer, and my freezer had a dent in it and I looked at the dent, and I automatically thought of a rabbit. But the real part was, I was watching a show called Heroes, I don’t know if you heard of it, but about 30 seconds later, after the commercial, they showed a guy on there killing a rabbit. It was weird because right before that happened an image of a rabbit popped in my head on my freezer. So I started drawing them, and then everybody liked them. So I started making them out of wood and everything and on paper.

SC: And who is killing those rabbits?

RV: It varies. It could be those teddy bears killing them. Because you know those rabbits with the red eyes? I love animals, don’t get me wrong, but you know those rabbits with the red eyes? It scares the holy guacamole out of me. I ain’t gonna lie, it scares the crap out of me. The rabbits with the red eyes? That’s scary. I took my chances with petting a pitbull on the street more than once, I haven’t been attacked by one. But the rabbits with the red eyes? Wowee. I ain’t petting one of those. It would bite my fingers off.

SC: And what’s your process when you draw them?

RV: I just draw them, I just use the main colors, red for the blood, pink is for the ears — no, wait — pink is for the stomach and a purplish color for the ears. I use a hot glue gun to bring out the whiskers. When I see a rabbit with red eyes, it scares the crap out of me, I don’t know why. The next time I see a rabbit, I will leave it alone. As long as it’s cool with me, I am cool with it. Because I have ADD and everything — my mind, it never stops processing everything. Like September 11th happened on a Tuesday. There are just certain things that I can’t forget. I was born on a Thursday, August 20, 1987 and I still remember that I was born on a Thursday. And the 1989 earthquake, you heard about that one? I was two years old and I remember when that happened. There are just certain things I can’t forget, it’s like a gift and a curse.

SC: How long have you been working on your art?

RV: I was drawing as a kid. I was drawing Sonic the Hedgehog and stuff like that. But I didn’t start coming here till like about almost nine years. I was just at home with my leopard gecko. I was just at home watching TV playing PS2 with my leopard gecko on my shoulder. I was just sitting there watching TV with nothing to do and I heard about this place here and I started three days a week. Now I go here four days a week.

SC: Do you like going to exhibitions at Creative Growth or at outside galleries?

RV: Yeah I don’t go to all of them, just certain ones. I always say, if my work ain’t in it, I don’t come.

SC: What are your goals for your art?

RV: I want to go big, you know, platinum? Nah, just to sell, but I would never be cocky if I was rich because the most money I ever had, probably was about one thousand, three and a half, four years ago here. But I am not cocky with money or nothing like that. It’s like I am good at certain things, but I don’t be bragging about it.

SC: What do you do outside of the studio?

RV: I go to Comic Con. The next Comic Con I am going to is August of this year. I remember the first time I was there about three or four years ago, I was there from like 9:40 in the morning to literally 3:00pm. I walked around the whole day, never did sit down. What happened last year was, all I ate was a crummy little bag of trail mix peanuts. That’s all I had. I collect action figures. Like, when people say I’m too old to collect action figures — I’m 31 — they’re probably jealous because they ain’t got the money like I do. Because I’m 31 and I probably have 300 action figures.

SC: Wow, that’s amazing. Can you tell me a little bit more about yourself and how you grew up?

RV: I was born and raised in Oakland. Never knew who my dad was, real mom died when I was 16 and I couldn’t cry because I never lived with her, I was never close. So my main focus was watching Spiderman and cartoons in the 1990s and then going to Comic Con. I used to have a leopard gecko, now I have a bearded dragon, a bulldog and a Newfoundland.

SC: It seems like you’re a real animal guy. What’s your favorite animal?

RV: My favorite reptile would be a bearded dragon, still my favorite reptile. I like snakes too. Any animals, I am all for — any animals. I was learning something the other day — that caterpillars, I think it was in Australia — no, London, that caterpillars can actually make silk like spiders and they can silken up houses and trees and cars and all that kind of stuff. A monarch butterfly can fly 1,100 feet in the air. An armadillo’s shell is literally pretty much bulletproof, and they can actually give people leprosy. I was learning a lot of stuff on the animal shows.

SC: You’ve told me a lot about your lizard, what about your dogs?

RV: Both my dogs get along fine, but the bulldog, I actually found her four years ago by the bus stop. And I couldn’t leave her there, and I promised myself that I wasn’t gonna bring home another dog, because I had a Pomeranian, but unfortunately she had to be put to sleep because she kept having seizures. So I ended up bringing home the bulldog. I walk my dogs. I just walk, if it’s raining, I’m still walking. I don’t mind walking, because I walk everyday for an hour. Yeah, because today I got my two hour and fifteen minute walk in today. If it’s hot, cold, rainy, I’m still walking. Now if it’s thundering and lightning and hailing, I ain’t crazy. I am crazy, but I don’t get struck by lightning. I ain’t trying to get struck by lightning. I don’t wanna be in a coma for six months sitting on my ass. I would miss a lot in six months, I would be missing all my shows, my dog would be missing everything.

SC: That’s right, I heard that you have rescued a lot of animals, tell me about that.

RV: Yeah, the smallest dog I ever saved, like almost four years ago? Her name is Clara, our teacher Mady has her. She was real, real, real, real small when I found her, lemme see, that was about almost four years ago. She was probably not even bigger than my shoe. I found her by the bus stop and that’s when I had my long skateboard. And I couldn’t leave her there, she was with another dog, so I picked her up and brought her on the bus. And when I skateboarded here, she was in my backpack, because I never really fall, and then I said Mady, I got something for you, so I reached in my backpack and got it for her. I have rescued about four or five dogs total. I am good with animals. I hate to see dogs roaming the streets. Even this past Tuesday I was walking home, there’s this one dog and I thought it was a boy so I named it Homeboy, but I just found out this morning that she’s a girl, so I gotta change her name to Homegirl. She’s a chow mix. Whenever I see her, I always give her food.

SC: Do you ever bring your pets to Creative Growth?

RV: No. Well, my lizard is autistic, he doesn’t like changes. He’s only used to me. Like if anybody else try to hold him, he gets kind of spicy. But then if I hold him, he’ll come chill with me for like three to four hours. I be chilling with him. I got a thousand pictures of him. It’s un-American not to have a pet. Everybody should have one. I go to PetSmart. My mom says she’s allergic to snakes but she’s not, she just doesn’t like snakes. So if I could get a snake, a long time ago, I would have, but my mom doesn’t like snakes.

SC: Any last words, Ray?

RV: Patience is a vulture. And, if somebody tells you you are a horrible artist or you’re too old to do this or that, don’t listen to them because haters are gonna hate. And as Stan Lee would say, “Enough said.”

[miamaroo]

Northern Migration- Chapter 25 (Notes+Preview)

Surprise! I’m updating about a week after my last update! Don’t get used to it, though. It’s only because I’ve been on break. I have classes again tomorrow, and finals seasons is about ready to slap me in the face. Hopefully you’ll see me again for the holidays. (Speaking of the holidays, we’re nearing the one year mark for when this fic first started wowza).

Like always, this is brimming with spoilers, so proceed forwards at your own risk.

Spoilers!

I messed around with that Taako scene for ages, trying to make the first distilled look into his character. I have a lot of trouble writing him, especially since I’m always trying to find a happy mixture of what he’s like in the show, what he’s like in the fanon, and what he would be like in the universe of this fic. I did my best. I’m not one-hundred-percent happy with it, but considering I rewrote the entire scene right before posting, I think it’s functional.

Since the next chapter is already written, I know that I’m going to keep mentioning layers of clothing as being a status of wealth. This is a part of what I plan on doing with the future flashback chapter into their history on their home plane. I feel like I have to mention it so that you get an idea of how the cultures are different, but it’s also annoying because it’s hard for me to convey that this is a cultural aspect that supposed to be different from Faerun.

Apparently, eyeballs help keep the structure of your head. I also did not know that.

Everyone in the TAZ fandom is a coward for not giving Taako a beard, and I’m counting Justin in that. Artists who give him stubble can stay, but you’re all on thin ice.

One thing I’m trying to figure out is a balance between people recognizing Avi in his old age because they know him well, and people not recognizing him because, honestly, I see pictures of my own dad as a young man and he’s a completely different person.

When John says “give your hands now,” it’s a purposeful twist of Merle doing the exact same thing in chapter 5.

I know I said this before—but John’s philosophy is so close to being that of some hero that it’s honestly scary.

As a kid, as I started thinking about perspective and morality, I also realized that a lot of what we considered right or wrong can be manipulated by whose point of view we’re viewing it from. And, as a preteen, I used that as justification for a lot of bad things. A lot of how I’m writing John is just thinking about how someone could’ve manipulated me into thinking or doing anything, and just giving him the opportunity to get Stevie to think that way as well. Like John has no way of knowing about Piper repeating all of her dad’s bad political beliefs (remember Piper and Gansey from chapter 3?), but he gets people. And I think he would know that, in her situation, Stevie would be thinking about morality in a way that would be easily manipulated in his favor.

All that being said: you’re a lot of fun to write John, but fuck you.

I don’t know yet if I want John to be aware of the Seven Birds concept, but in case I do eventually decide that he does, Vultures is a very on the nose confession of what he ultimately wants Stevie to believe. If I decide to make it so that he never knows, then it’s just me (the author) making an on the point piece of foreshadowing of what his plans are going to be.

John is a bard. Fight me.

And here’s a thought: this is the first time in the story where Stevie gets to have fun and it’s not interrupted by plot bullshit.

Originally, Lucas was going to have the weird crush on Avi, and it was going to be something that was going to making Johann feel extra sure about never confessing, but Avi already has so many other shit going on that I had to redistribute some things.

That being said, Sloane and Avi having this bitter history together is very important to me. With Griffin wanting TAZ to be about found family, I sort of wanted to take the opportunity to explore the idea of two people who became family before it was ruined. Basically, since Lucretia didn’t destroyed her family (minus Taako being pissed), I had to destroy another family.

Avi being in debt to someone is the reoccurring theme of his life. He was in debt to the Hammerheads, then Sloane, and now Bane and Barry. This guy constantly owes other people things.

Things that are also very important to me: Ren being fiercely protective of all her friends.

I can’t remember if Merle in canon couldn’t remember if he made a sash or a belt, but I’m taking Clint’s endless confusion over the two as an excuse to make it so.

I was going to write a scene where Davenport discovered that he can’t learn sign language, but I didn’t have the space and beyond just filling in a potential loophole, it didn’t really add more to Davenport. Like, he know he’s suffering. I don’t need to remind you that much.

The same goes for the cutting of a scene where Magnus is helping Julia learn how to walk. Again, there was a space issue and the fact that it wasn’t them actually making it up allowed me to feel like I can get around writing it. That being said, it still hurt to not write it. 

Also, hey! Only two relics left to this story! I still have to write like three more interlude chapters before we can even get cracking on that, but now you can see how much progress we’re actually making in this fic!

This is such a minor detail, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out if I want stoves to be a thing in this world or not. I know that I decided a long time ago that everyone was going to have hearths except for the Starblaster, which was going to be technologically advanced enough to have an actual stove, but there’s not enough cooking in this damn fic to convey that idea. And when it does come up, it’s at Lucas’s lab, which would also be advanced enough to have a stove, but not one as advanced as the Starblaster. AND I CAN’T FIGURE OUT HOW TO EVEN CONVEY THIS IDEA. One time, I thought I could emphasize how almost scared Julia was of the stove, but then I remembered that she has had a decade to get used to it. SO YEAH. I JUST DON’T KNOW.

I know that I have to acknowledge any reasonable feelings Julia would have involving becoming disabled, but I’m also trying to be careful to make sure it doesn’t come off as condescending or pitying towards disabled folks. I’m trying to strike a balance, and I’m never sure how well I’m doing with.

Julia’s prosthetic leg is based upon prosthetic legs used for runners in the Special Olympics. I am going to add a link to a reference here, but it’s late and I might forget. If you noticed that I forgot, tell me and I’ll add it.

Stevie likes snow because it’s snowing in parley. She likes rainbows because the black scars on John’s face is holographic.

Also, Lucretia is gay. She’s like, super duper gay. Supreme gay.

I feel like I put down what color Taako’s magic is somewhere in this fic, but I don’t feel like looking through the entire thing in search of it, so right now I’m just writing around having to state its color for as long as possible.

The item Taako used to make the hole in the floor is the Hole Thrower. Don’t ask me where he got it.

Originally, I had a scene like two chapters back where Taako saw Angus, thus making his comments about seeing a kid around make a lot more sense. However, I convinced myself to get a little sneakier about Angus being on the ship and then proceeded to forget about it. Considering how much effort I usually put into foreshadowing everything (and this is still without a written outline), I’m going to give myself a pass on the bad writing this time around.

Like I mentioned in the chapter notes, I’m off break now and starting finals, so next update will take a long time. Feel free to talk to me on here and generally strike up a friendship. I’m a very lonely person. Anyway, here’s the preview for the next chapter:

Angus McDonald sits with his hands folded calmly on his lap, fancy clothes unruffled as he looks up at the circle of adults surrounding him. It’s plain from the slight quirk in his brow that nothing about being held up in the Starblaster kitchen is by any means threatening. He sits, mouth in a tight line, as he waits for his turn to speak.

“You’re such a drama queen,” Lucretia says dully, pressing a bag of frozen peas to Taako’s face.

He takes it gladly, practically collapsed against the kitchen counter as he moans. Angus’s hardy kick was just enough to make a single drop of blood creep down from his nose. “I’m dying, Lucy. When I go, tell Merle he could fuck off.”

“Whatever I do to you?” Merle demands, turning from his job of standing by Davenport’s side to shout.

Davenport, all the while, has his arms folded over his chest. His eyes are set in a harsh glare that makes Angus shift in his seat. Every adult in the room Angus is pretty sure he can handle, but Davenport is somewhere on the level of a god. Flanking each of his sides is one of the Burnsides, with Magnus in a pair of paint-splattered work clothes and Julia in a chair, her prosthetic leg still in her daughter’s possession. The kid was ordered to leave the room, but Angus saw her creep back in, armed with the prosthetic leg and a set of paints. She claimed the corner directly across from him. Every now and then, Merle and Taako make gestures grand enough that Angus catches a glimpse of the girl watching him as a curious spectator.

Davenport sighs, then nudges Magnus’s leg. At the cue, Magnus bends down into a squat, perfectly leveled with Angus’s eyes. “Angus. What are you doing here?”

“I—” Angus closes his mouth. He shifts until he’s back to the picture of innocence.

“We’re not mad at you,” Magnus says. “It’s just… we do a lot of dangerous things, and I’m sure your job as a consultant is plenty dangerous enough—”

“Detective.”

Magnus pauses. “What?”

Angus preens. “If case you forgot, my name is Angus McDonald and I am the world’s greatest detective. If you’re trying to interrogate me, I suggest that you do your best to ensure that you’re coming in with the most accurate information.”

[bioticgoddess]

Exiles of Asgard (3/?)

Notes: Well...I finally finish this section. Heheh...now...to the show! Also, I took a few liberties with the actual myth this is based on. Sorry not sorry. 

Exiles of Asgard: The Wedding Job

Long ago...

 “How exactly are you planning to explain this to father,” Loki asked, running his hands through his short black hair.  As Thor vomited for the third time, the other Odinson had to stand and take several long strides towards the balcony of his rooms. His brother was definitely hung over, painfully so for Loki to bear witness.

Belching, Thor glared menacingly at his little brother. Face pale, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed, he grabbed a goblet of water and took a swig. Audibly he swished the water around in his mouth before spitting into the bucket containing the contents of his stomach. “I do not,” he belched again, “Require your patronizing tone, brother.”

“Just because I’m not drunk doesn’t mean that I’m patronizing you,” he shot back, taking deep inhales from the mint that Althea had insisted they grow in planters on his balcony. Had the best light, she’d said, and – at this moment – he was thankful to have its smell. It mitigated that awful acidic and half-digested smell that permeated his once clean sitting room. Closing his eyes and taking a deep inhale of the herb he said, “I am asking because you know father is going to want an explanation about why you no longer possess Mjolnir. And we both know that there’s no avoiding him either. If our father, the All-Father, wants to know something -”

Thor sighed heavily, spitting more water into the bucket, “Then he’ll find out what he wants to know. Yes, I am aware of this Loki.”  His patience with the green and gold robed god was wearing thin. Though the mint leaves being shoved in his face were a welcome change in smell and, as he greedily stuffed two in his mouth, taste. “Thank you brother,” he mumbled.

“Thank Althea, she insisted it be grown here,” he countered, regarding his brother cautiously. His eyes narrowing, Loki repeated his initial question, “So how do you intend to explain this to father?”

Before Thor could answer there was a loud banging knock on heavy double doors. A moment later, one of the Einherjar opened the door. He spoke, “The All-Father summons you both – Prince Thor, Prince Loki – to the throne room. You’re required to appear immediately.”

“Looks like you’ll find out when he does,” Thor grinned wryly, chuckling as he wiped more spittle from his fledgling beard using the edge of his cape. A confident, stalwart expression cemented itself on his face. It spoke volumes about Thor’s ability in combat and his status as Asgard’s next king. Loki, however, knew better. He knew that at the moment his brother was terrified. Odin would not be pleased, to say the least.

Swallowing, Loki muttered, “Fantastic.”

The pair dragged themselves from the sitting room in Loki’s rooms. Adjusting themselves, the pair made the long trek towards the throne room. Even with their father seated on his throne in the centre of the palace they could feel his eyes on them in the corridors. It was unnerving. Pushing the doors open, Thor bellowed, “Father, you summoned us?”

“What in the name of my father Bor did you do! How in the nine realms do you lose the mighty hammer Mjolnir! You are unworthy of being called a warrior, let alone a Prince of Asgard!” He wasn’t asking, he was demanding. It’d be a miracle if he stopped yelling at Thor – and Loki by association – long enough to get an explanation from the blonde. “How dare you return to Asgard without it! And you,” his attention turned to Loki, “You! It is your responsibility to ensure that your brother does not make a fool of himself and this Realm!”

When Frigga rested a hand on her husband’s shoulder, looking at her eldest son – disappointment filling her face, Odin relented. The old king sang into his throne, voice heavy, he demanded, “Tell me how you let this happen Thor.”

“Well, Father, we were celebrating our victory over the renegade dwarves and their siege weapons. The great show of strength and courage from our warriors,” Thor began, eyes darting between both his parents and his sibling. Loki, by contrast rolled his eyes. Quickly shooting his brother a dark glare, Thor continued, “I was served a drink potent enough to send even Volstagg spinning. Unbeknownst to me, it was more than any Asgardian could drink. Before I knew it, I was passed out – slumped over the table like when we were children first learning to drink. When I woke, Mjolnir had been stolen from my side!” Quickly he continued, before Odin’s rage filled face could turn to words, “Loki has even volunteered to help find it.”

 Eyes wide, blinking in disbelief and shock, Loki stammered, “I what?”

“There will be no need for that,” snapped Odin. “The Giant who stole Mjolnir, Thrym, has made an offer regarding the return of Mjolnir. One that I am loathe to grant him since he only has the hammer thanks to the arrogance, stupidity, and hubris of my eldest son.”

The looked between one another,  Loki spoke, “What does he wish of Asgard, father?” His words were deferential despite the patronizing hand raised that silenced Thor.

“He has demanded the hand of Lady Sif in exchange for Mjolnir,” he paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. Loki understood why his mother looked so disappointed in her sons as the surprise crept across his face. By contrast, Thor’s reaction was almost immediate. His eyes darted around the room, panicked and his words melted into little more than outraged grunts. Oh yes, he was certainly his father’s son. Then in hit Loki, a plan to redeem his brother and have a little fun.

Regaining his composure ahead of Thor, or even their revered mother, Loki spoke quickly, “May I make a suggestion father? A way to get the a hammer back without sacrificing our dear friend Sif.” He had to fight the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It didn’t matter that he’d had no role in this debacle, if he got too excited about this then he would be blamed for the disappearance of Mjolnir and this Thrym’s plot to wed Sif. He continued, following Odin’s gesture to do so. “Perhaps we could give this Thrym what he wants.”

“Loki! You would abandon –“

“You did not let me finish brother,” he hissed, “No, I was thinking that you and I might go on her behalf. Say as if we were the Lady Sif and her handmaiden.” Silence fell thick over the four. “It wouldn’t be  complicated magic to make Thor appear as Sif and I could easily be perceived as a handmaiden. And the Warriors Three could come along as her escort. It would be the perfect ruse.”

--

 Thor hissed at his brother, adjusting the dress – it was uncomfortable at best and chaffing at worst. Not to mention embarrassing for him to wear, “Why did Mother and Father agree to this?” Turning to Althea and Sif, the elf adjusting the latter’s hair, “How do either of you...do anything in these!?”

 “Because it was clever, and we just do” Althea giggled, hands clamped over her mouth as she tried desperately not to cackle madly. Sif wasn’t having as much luck as the Elf – both were going along as additional handmaidens for SIf’ stand in. Loki used one of his shapeshifting spells to make himself appear female - and stolen a dress from Althea. Her wardrobe had the widest variety of gowns and most were more forgiving. Especially when all three - Loki, Sif, and Althea - would need to have weapons of some kind tucked away under the gowns.

 Sif swatted feverishly at Althea’s hands as she finished knotting and braiding the other woman’s hair. Thanks to the her actual handmaidens (and Queen Frigga), Sif’s hair had been colored a shade of blonde-red and her makeup done in such a way that she didn’t look like herself. She looked more like a sibling or other relation of Fandral - on any other day that would have made her skin crawl. Today, however, she was thankful for the disguise. It was far better to play the part of a handmaid who may/may not be kin to their womanizing friend than it was to be ransomed as a bride to a giant.

 “Well then,” Loki said, his voice going from his usual timbre to a falsetto closer to Frigga’s tone. All three of his companions turned their heads so quickly they nearly hurt themselves. Eyes wide, he wasn’t sure surprise was the correct word to describe the shared expresion. “Oh like none of you have ever seen me pretend to be a woman or speak as one before,” he said waving it off as he walked away.

 Sif regained her composure first, “Um, no, I’m afraid none of us have seen...this…” She waved her hand at him in circles, voice trailing off.

 “You as a woman is quite the sight brother, but Sif you’re mistaken my lady, he used a similar guise to sneak us out of Nornheim the last time.” Thor was grinning, ear to ear.

 ---

 Accompanied by the warriors three, “Sif”  and her wedding party made their way to Nidavellir for her wedding to Thrym. The giants living in the Dwarven realm circling the small group of Asgardians like vultures. Loki and Althea stood close together, combining small spells to keep the giants from coming too close. All the while disguising Thor as Sif while the shield-maiden-herself stood close behind the Elf.

“Ah,” Thrym hummed when the six Asgardians entered his halls, “The lovely Lady Sif! How I have longed to see you again!”

Elbowing her brother in the side, Loki hissed, “Remember what we practiced…my lady.”  She forced a smile that, despite being absolutely on edge, looked serene and natural. Only the god of mischief could claim such skills.

Thor, by comparison, fumbled and stumbled over his words. The magic of Althea and Loki making his voice sound like Sif’s. “Thrym, how wonderful to be in your…um…magnanimous presence. You are a…a…um…”

“A warrior of greater strength than even Mighty Thor,” Loki’s voice echoed softly in Thor’s ear. She hovered by her brother’s side, leaning close to give some illusion of modesty on the part of both Sif and her retinue. It also allowed her to feed lines to Thor whenever necessary.

Despite his disguise, the elder Odinson wanted to glare at his brother. For once, however, he knew the deception was necessary. Forcing the most girlish giggle he could, Thor continued, “A warrior greater than even Mighty Thor.” It made him want to vomit. Correction, to punch someone and then vomit. - It took everything the others in the Asgardian retinue had not to laugh. Though Volstagg did have his ever impressive beard to hide in.

A grin spread across the giant’s face and he motioned for “Sif” to come sit beside him. Robotically, she did just that – handmaidens in tow. On cue, composure returned, Volstagg spoke with a level of performed deference usually reserved for formal audiences with Odin, “Master Thrym, the All-Father has met his portion of your marriage contract request. We would humbly request that you reciprocate with the presentation and return of Mjolnir as it is sorely missed in Asgard. Just as you would miss Lady Sif’s radiance were she not here.”

Both Sif and her decoy glared daggers at the practiced politician.

Roariously he laughed, leaning over the arm of his chair farthest from the bridal party he pulled the hammer from a compartment in the alter table. “After the ceremony,” He chuckled darkly, laying the hammer across Thor’s lap. They could all hear the spears and longswords being drawn by the giants around them. “After all, we wouldn’t want my lady to be absconded with now would we,” he ran the back of his hand along Thor’s cheek as he spoke.

The group held their breath as Thrym smiled almost lovingly at Thor – never once suspecting he wasn’t Sif.

 “No, we would no,” the disguised shield-maiden snapped as Thor wrapped a hand quickly around Mjolnir’s handle. Before she could take the sword, wrapped in ribbons and scarves, from where it was secured at her back the very daintily dressed Asgardian Prince called down a blast of Thunder and LIghtning. Hilariously graceful, Thor moved with Mjolnir as he struck out at Thrym - sending the Giant flying headlong into stone pillar. His tribesmen, startled by the revelation that Thor stood before them all froze in place.

 A few laughed at the sight of him in the gown. Everyone saw the lightning flash in Thor’s eyes and the rage bubble into his face and voice as he roared and brought further electric fury down upon them. As tended to happen in situations like this, when the Asgardian Heir’s temper took hold, and everything went to shit.

 --- 

In Asgard’s healing rooms, wrapping bandages around Loki’s bare midsection Althea snapped, “I am not explaining this to your parents.” Her words were directed at Thor.“But I -”“No! No! No! You can explain why that gown is charged to bits, your brother has three broken ribs, lady Sif a broken arm, Volstagg’s beard is burned off, and why Fandral has a burn along his back! I am not going to be the messenger of this folly Prince of ...of...Sparklers!” The elf had not only raised her voice, but was yelling. It echoed off the vaulted ceilings as her eyes shonw like angry embers over Loki’s shoulder when she glared at Thor.

 Thor’s mouth flapped open and closed a few times, eyes wide and blank. “I...um...uh...ah...um...very well,” he stammered, slinking off towards the throne room with Mjolnir clutched in his hands.

[sciencespies]

Celebrate Five of Nature’s Best Beards on World Beard Day

https://sciencespies.com/nature/celebrate-five-of-natures-best-beards-on-world-beard-day/

Celebrate Five of Nature’s Best Beards on World Beard Day

Smithsonian Voices National Museum of Natural History

Five of Nature’s Best Beards for World Beard Day

September 3rd, 2020, 6:00AM / BY

Erin Malsbury

Smithsonian anthropologists hold up the world’s longest beard after it was donated to the National Museum of Natural History in 1967. (Smithsonian)

People get attached to their beards. So much so, that this Saturday is World Beard Day — a day just for celebrating facial hair of all shapes, colors and sizes.

But humans aren’t the only bearded beasts. In the sea, the sky and the land between, organisms sport bristles, fuzz and fur of all styles. Instead of splitting hairs over what type of beard is best, here are five of nature’s finest.

The world’s longest beard

Left: Hans Langseth displays his 17-foot beard at the age of 66. Right: At Langseth’s wish, his beard was removed and saved after his death. It is currently in storage at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History. (Smithsonian)

North Dakota farmer Hans Langseth had an unusual postmortem wish: he wanted his beard cut off and saved. He started growing it at the age of 19, and at 17 feet and 6 inches long, Langseth’s beard was crowned the longest in the world by the Guinness Book of World Records. To keep from tripping over it, he would reportedly roll the hair around a corncob and tuck it into a pouch or pocket.

After his death in 1927, his children fulfilled his wish and saved the beard. Not knowing what to do with the odd heirloom, Langseth’s son eventually donated it to the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History in 1967.

Researchers at the Smithsonian can use human hair to learn about a person’s diet, health and even exposure to pollutants. Langseth’s beard is unique in that its length and debris found in it provides a sort of timeline for his life. For example, Langseth harvested wheat as a young man, and a few small kernels are still tangled throughout the sections of hair that he grew early in his adult life.

Bearded vultures

Unlike most clean-faced vultures, the bearded vulture sports a stylish black tuft. Richard Bartz (Richard Bartz)

Bearded vultures (Gypaetus barbatus) are named for the black bristles beneath their beaks, but beards are hardly their most distinguishing characteristic. These birds paint their plumage a rusty orange color using iron-rich soil to show age and status. And their wingspans can exceed nine feet.

Bearded vultures are also known as lammergeiers, which means “lamb-vulture” in German. But despite their fearsome name and appearance, they rarely attack live animals. Instead, they search for carcasses and pick out bones. The scavengers drop femurs and other large bones onto rocks from hundreds of feet in the air to shatter them into digestible pieces. They are the only bird known to subsist almost entirely on bone and bone marrow.

Bearded fireworms

They might look soft, but the “beards” on these fireworms cause a painful sting. (Nick Hobgood)

The bearded fireworm (Hermodice carunculata) is named for the hollow, white bristles that line its body. These bristles are filled with a neurotoxin that burns and irritates skin if touched.

The worms are native to the tropical Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea. They live on reefs, rocks, sand — even drifting wood — and eat corals, anemones and small crustaceans. Though brightly-colored all the time, bearded fireworms really shine during mating, when the females emit a greenish glow to attract mates.

Bearded irises

Left: This 126 year-old bearded iris is preserved in the U.S. National Herbarium alongside millions of other plant specimens. (Smithsonian) Right: A close-up of a bearded iris shows the hair-like fibers that give the species its common name. (Sid Mosdell)

The bearded iris (Iris germanica) gets its name from the row of fuzz near the base of the petals. These “beards” might help attract pollinators like bees. The sun-loving, vibrant purple flowers bloom in late spring and early summer, and although native to the Mediterranean, they can be found throughout Europe and North America.

T. Beardi fossils

Images 10-15 show T. beardi from Kentucky in the original paper that first described the species in 1987. (U.S. Geological Survey)

This fossil’s beard is in its name. Triticites beardi was named for the man who first collected it: John Beard. T. beardi is a species of extinct fusulinid — single-celled, shell-building marine organisms. Researchers have found fusulinid fossils on every continent except Antarctica, but T. beardi has only been seen in Kentucky.

The intricate fossils of these tiny organisms help scientists determine when and how rocks formed. Rocks that contain T. beardi, for example, are typically around 300 million years old.

The Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History has the T. beardi holotype — the individual specimen that scientists used to describe the species.

Related Stories: Five Species to Wrap Up Invasive Species Week Six Bewtiching Smithsonian Specimens to Get You Ready for Halloween Five Things You Shouldn’t Miss in the New Fossil Hall Check Out These Unexpected Connections in Natural and Presidential History 10 Popular Scientific Discoveries from 2019

Erin Malsbury is an intern in the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History’s Office of Communications and Public Affairs. Her writing has appeared in Science, Eos, Mongabay and the Mercury News, among others. Erin recently graduated from the University of California, Santa Cruz with an MS in science communication. She also holds a BS in ecology and a BA in anthropology from the University of Georgia. You can find her at erinmalsbury.com.

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#Nature

[retro-hime]

The Ask Arcana Questionnaire

an awesome ass thank you to @fireflytrio for making this~!! Because looks like I’mmmm doing it again. 

I have two more apprentices I’ve been meaning to do this for. Emirion and Xolaria. Xolaria’s will always be in bold and Emirions’s will be italicized

Part 1.) Characterization. Use these questions as a way to flesh out some of your character’s personality, background, likes/dislikes, etc.

Their surname?

Alumin

Torres

Halloween costume?

A sexy circus costume

Tuxedo Mask from Sailor Moon

Familiar/animal friend?

Spiney Bush Viper and Bearded Vulture

Boar or Peacock

Big spoon or little spoon?

Both

Little Spoon

Religious?

No, but has a healthy fear of the gods

A bit

Favorite fruit?

Strawberries with whipped cream

Peaches and Plums

Idea of a nice date?

Fancy restaurant that normally takes months to get in to and then end it with a nice spa bath with her S/O

Something small and intimate, like laying in bed and eating in bed together all day and talking about everything under the sun.  

Favorite season?

Fall

Spring

When is their Birthday?

September 7th (Virgo)

 April 30th (Taurus)

Favorite carnival ride?

Log water ride

Ferris Wheel, even though the height scares her

Favorite emoji?

The tea cup

Blushing emoji

Like to do in their free time?

Likes to exercise and do physical hobbies, dancing, yoga, those things. She’ll put on mini magic shows for kids, especially if they ask nicely or they’re crying. But she actually likes baking and cooking

Sewing, trying on clothes, being an ear for people to need to vent. She bakes to cheer people up and will periodically give random neighbors a dish just for being a good person. 

What sports would they play?

Ballet, Pole Dancing, the cool scarf dancing thing they do at cirque du soleil

Fencing

What kind of car would they drive?

Convertible AND an a mini van. One for picking up friends and one to just drive around in

Fiat or a bug

How do they treat their significant other when they’re feeling unusually affectionate?

Nose rubs, gentle cheek touches, forehead kisses, might feel the need to tease more than usual. Will also do their hair and pamper them, full blown spa treatment

Bakes and sews something special for them, makes the first move for a cheek kiss, but is otherwise usually too shy to do anything. 

Favorite manga?

Reimei No Arcana, Shirayukihime, and Mob Psycho

Ouran Highschool Host Club, Reimei No Arcana, and Kaichou Wa Maid-Sama… and Say I Love You and Princess Jelly fish aaaaand Sailor Moon, any magical girl series that ISNT sad (yes I know their the same as Vals, but they have similar tastes and are big romantics)

Main store to shop for clothes (if they lived in our world)?

Windsor, Deliahs, and Icing

Likes to go to thrift stores and refurbish the clothes for herself or to sell

What were they like growing up?

If she HADN’T have been treated as a slave/attraction in a circus, she probably would have been a really caring kid, making sure everyone is ok. But since she had it pretty rough growing up, she was quite and bitter and acted as the wild animal she was treated as. Until she was taught that sh was better than how they treated her

Emirion was shy and quiet, always has been. She used to barely talk at all or above a whisper for the longest. She was sensitive and had a tendancy to cry a lot and be dubbed a cry baby, but she had a heart of gold, and would still bake cookis for people that were mean to her. 

What kind of drunk are they at a party?

Sings, pretty well, but will pick up a guitar and sing, uses it to make some coin. She has a tendency to.. strip if she gets too drunk and will do all the fun stuff of belly shots, dancing on the bar, whole nine. But it rarely happens because she holds her liquor pretty well and knows her limit. 

Cries and gets insanely affectionate and gushy, but also steps out of her shell.. Just think of the Yuri on Ice photos.. Thats her

Reaction to someone telling a dirty joke?

Will make it into a competition who would tell the dirtiest joke

Flustered and blushing mess

Reaction to stubbing their toe?

Tenses up and tries VERY hard not to curse. Says “I’m okay, I’m okay” over and over

Just lays on the floor until it stops hurting, or will try to act like shes ok through the tears

Favorite color?

Rich colors, like royal blue and purple. Loves golds and silvers

Peacock colors, or anything with a nice color scheme. 

Favorite See’s chocolate?

Melted chocolate (fondu)

Milk chcolate with hazelnuts

Favorite poptart flavor?

Cinnamon Roll

Maple Bacon

Favorite hobby?

Dancing and taking care of animals

Sewing and baking

How they sing at karaoke parties?

Always DIsney songs, and purposely sings them as good as possible to shame everyone for daring her

Nope. Wont sing, can’t get her to do it. She’ll cry. 

Preferred social media platform?

Pinterest

Facebook

Opinion on puns?

The punnier the better, but only when she does it, otherwise its tasteless and she hates that she laughs everytime

Puns are great!

How do they typically deal with their problems?

Prefers to go with the flow. If its out of their control, they try not to worry about it. 

Hide from them for as long as possible

Spice girl nickname?

Glam Spice

Sweet Spice

Personal hygiene routine?

Showers twice a day and always rubs herself down with oils and does her hair, she’ll always smell good, even on the battle field. She has no problem roughing it though. 

Showers twice a day as well and is very big on smelling nice and looking nice, even if she may not FEEL nice. 

Favorite alcoholic drink?

Sparkling sweet alcoholic cider

Margarita with sugar rim

Favorite genre of music?

Any form of music that has classical music in the backround.. Also EDM

Jazz or sad songs

Modern AU job/career?

Vet, does strip club ‘amateur’ night on the side

Fashion Designer/Model

Favorite musical?

Rent

Highschool Musical (i didnt stutter)

How would they celebrate their significant other’s birthday?

Would make this a personal one. So an at home spa day, home cooked meal, which she rarely does, and small, well thought out gift. Would like to spend it talking and getting drunk and home together. 

Would have over thought it and opted for doing something home done, baking and making them their gift, but would always ALWAYS.be worried its not good enough. 

Would they rather turn into a tiny rhinoceros or a giant hamster?

Tiny Rhinoceros

Giant Hamster

What would they do for their significant other for Valentine’s Day?

Would have it prepared months in advance. She’s all about pampering and wants the person to feel insanely special and includes a Spa day. So it’d be a lot of expensive extravagent things that ends with a “I’ll do whatever you want today, just say the word.”

Would try very hard to make sure eveyrthing is romantic, a picnic on the beach during the sunset. Would like to be in the kitchen with them to have a fun time attmepting to bake together. Would also attempt a poem, but chicken out half way through it. 

Pros and cons to having them as a roommate?

Pros: Always has a side hustle, cleans, makes sure you look presentable, good at listening, but will TRY not to be rude, will do your hair for you

Cons: Hates mess and will be picky about you staying on your side, will judge you based on your bathing schedule, hates being woken up

Pros: Can cook, is homely, nicely decorates the house, house always smells good, makes sure everything is where it should be, likes to help, can stitch your clothes for you

Cons: Too quiet to speak their mind, lets people walk over them, stress bakes

On a scale from 1-10 how Extra are they?

8

3

Favorite meme?

harambe and blinking white guy

Vines.. just vines

Favorite three pokemon?

Dragonair, Ninetails, Haxorus

Empoleon, Togepi, Servine

How tall are they?

5′5″

5′9″

Part 2.) Scaling. Using your best judgement, where does your fan apprentice fall on these scales?

[Example: Shortest to tallest?

Portia, Asra, [MC name here], Nadia, Lucio, Julian, Muriel]

Most to least superstitious?

Portia, Emirion, Julian, Nadia, Lucio, Asra, Xolaria, Muriel

Most to least excited to be at a WWE event?

Xolaria, Portia, Lucio, Asra, Emirion, Julian, Nadia, Muriel

Worst to best at handling children?

Nadia, Lucio, Muriel, Emirion, Asra,Xolaria, Portia, Julian,

Worst to best alcohol tolerance?

Muriel, Emirion, Asra, Lucio, Julian, Xolaria, Portia, Nadia,

Best to worst at keeping secrets?

Xolaria, Asra, Muriel, Emirion, Nadia, Lucio, Portia, Julian

Best to worst dancers?

Xolaria, Asra, Portia, Julian, Nadia, Lucio, Muriel, Emirion

Most to least likely to slap you for stealing a mcnugget?

Nadia, Xolaria, Lucio, Asra, Portia, Julian, Muriel, Emirion

Least to most likely to eat something weird on a dare?

Nadia, Emirion, Julian, Muriel, Lucio, Xolaria, Portia, Asra,

Least to most old?

Asra, Portia, Muriel, Emirion, Julian, Xolaria, Lucio, Nadia

Part 3.) Extra characterization tidbits (whether you want to make a description or insert a photo for these is up to you!)

MC as a:

•MCR song

Famous Last Words

Welcome to the Black Parade

•vine

Any Mike Khoury video and this

Im dying inside

•a piece of furniture

Chandelier

Vase

•character from the Labyrinth

Jareth

Didymus

•character in a cliche Noir film

The femme fatale, the woman whose hawt as hell but also kicks ass

The over worked and under estimated partner, who ends up actually being useful

•Tarot card

The Empress

Fool

•Micheal Jackson song

Dirty Diana

Earth Song

•character in the play “Cats”

I have no idea honestly

•Panic! at the disco song

Lying is the Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off and Impossible Year.. Honestly most of their songs (Yes same as

Crazy=Genius and This is Gospel

•cliche high school student stereotype

The ‘whore’ of the school, but they’re mostly rumors and is actually a really good person. Mom friend tm

Quiet girl who no one is sure they’ve ever heard speak but is actually talented and has a passion

•furby

•flight rising dragon breed

Tundra Dragon

Coatl Dragon

•deadly sin

Pride

Glutton

•DnD class

Sorcerer

Paladin or Monk

•character from Mean Girls

Janis

Gretchen

•hogwarts house

Gryffindor

Hufflepuff

•cryptid

Akkorokamui

Emela-Ntouka 

•monster factory character

Way too complicated for me to get into

[evilweasel24]

Me & my friends are starting a new D&D campaign & I'm playing as a Aarakocra. I based her off of a bearded vulture cuz they're super cool birds. She's a barbarian & her name is Pecan but she got the nick name Blood Wing since Pecan doesn't sound tough enough for a barbarian mercenary. So far she punched 2 owlbears to death after dropping her glaive. I drew her in charcoal, cuz I'm indoors, & I hope next time I can use chalks so she gets some color.

[bunnipuff]

I'm not sure how comfortable you feel giving advice, but I'm trying to come up with different designs for creatures like demons for a project, and I'm wondering if you had advice? (Yours all look so fantastic and I'm just having a really hard time with it)

aw ty so much im glad you decided to come to me!! i love helping out a lot so dw about it but also keep in mind that whatever i say is FAR from the only way to do things, whenever i make a post like this its generally about like.. what works for me, and what are good guidelines to start. the most important is to soak in information and find your own way to do things (:

 i havent designed creatures in a little while but ill try my best. demon design under the cut 👌

first of all! i think the most important thing to begin with is to find a theme for the design you’re about to create. do you want them to look scary, or friendly? what is their purpose going to be? you can find a theme by getting a color palette you like a lot and working from here. for instance i based kyrie on a lammergeier vulture, since i loved the overall spikiness of them as well as their color scheme; for her i wanted a big forest-dwelling monster kind of look, so i built her silhouette to look very inhuman and strange. the long creepy neck, the four-legged stance, the human face tacked onto a very much not human body are all things people are not used to seeing and generally think of as pretty spooky, so i assembled those elements together into something i thought looked pretty cool. the art for her is pretty old and i could have done a lot more with her, but the general elements are there - you can see her theme is “scruffy and unkempt” as well as “uncanny valley”, like she’s an assembly of animal parts that don’t quite work together and make the whole thing look. off. which is what you kind of want in a more monstrous character! exaggerate the features, elongate some, add limbs, remove limbs. make something thats visually interesting to you. start from an interesting looking animal and just Fuck It Way Up

a good way to figure out what design elements you’re going to need is to look into the character’s backstory. some example questions: are demons in your universe based more on animals, on their specific sin? are they humanoid or more creature-like? do they come from angels or are they created from humans? all of these are going to influence what theyre going to eventually look like, so theyre important factors to consider if you want them to fit into a story; but if you just want to make a cool looking design, you can always put that aside and make them fit in later. it’s just a step that can spur you into the right direction. for instance: belphegor is a demon i’ve helped design who is based on the cardinal sin of sloth, so making him i tried to have elements kinda representing that: long unkempt hair, scruffy beard from not shaving, droopy eyes, big fluffy tail to sleep on, that kind of stuff. however do try not to fall into the trap of making a character only based on those attributes because you might end up with something thats really just. generic. (hint: all those lust demons who are just a generic sexy big chested small waisted lady. zwuoto is a lust demon belonging to one of my friends that i helped design and i personally think shes very visually striking; she has that idea of luxury and decadence about her without losing too much of the demonic part and shes attractive without being generic. i guess what im trying to say is that you should vary what you make and try not to only rely on stereotypes and tropes??) you can also work based off of existing folklore creatures, or cryptids, or such things. theyre a good jumping point and a lot of them are vague enough to be able to be built over; very helpful when you don’t really have a solid idea but you want to make something.

otherwise just work with what you find visually interesting.. jacqueline is a really old design that was just me trying to play around with delicate little body/big monstrous paws as an interesting contrast. marina and kaluoy are basically just humans with a pleasant fish motif because thats what i felt like drawing at the time. starchild is very self-indulgent because shes all vibrant colors and soft curves and streamlined silhouette… really, theres no rules in character design, just put in what you feel looks interesting and draw it. it doesnt necessarily have to match, it can even intentionally clash, as long as you make it interesting and own it, and i think thats really the beauty of it!

aside from all that you should still like, follow the general character design rules; have an interesting silhouette, have a cohesive idea, sketch them in different poses to get a feel for them, dont be afraid to start over or scratch things out if youre not too sure about them. sometimes less is more, sometimes more is more,  really, it depends what works with your style and what you like to draw.. dont design a character youre going to hate drawing because thats the best way to just abandon them entirely! make something you enjoy drawing.

if you need inspiration i have a few tags on my main blog that i sometimes go through to get ideas for designs: demons, color palettes, angels, characters, inspiration, interesting objects, fashion,makeup, creatures. this is by no means an exhaustive list but these are usually what help me; the best bet is for u to make yourself a folder or a tag of things that visually strike you, and pull them back up once its time to make a character; having a visual bible of that sort helps a lot more than you would think!