#bc solstice

[worshippin]

It’s not unusual for her to watch him as he flies away– always away–, into the dark storm and dodging lightning. A bright purple strike of a lightning bolt cuts the sky, then the air and land beneath.

She feels it all, the static, the buzzing of electricity. But he’s too far away to touch. He’s too far away to hear her prayers; and far too focused on his task to realize she can feel him flying, through every raindrop, every breeze.

Keyleth usually wakes up abruptly, with black feathers under her pillows and sharp thuds on the window. This time, however, he flies around and then floats closer as he suddenly turns from a murder of ravens into a pale-skinned half-elf, a curious look of recognition on his face.

Her chest aches and she gasps as she’s caught there, reaching for him with her whole soul just as he reached for her through the decades, sending her flocks of black birds (well, mostly ravens) to simultaneously haunt and brighten her every waking moment.

“Vax?” She calls out, her voice hoarse like the echoes she hears are different versions of herself screaming and singing  his name.

He doesn’t answer, though he stays there, unmoving, the puzzled expression never leaving his face.

“Vax, can you hear me?”

She holds a hand against her chest, realizing her own heavy breathing. The storm gets heavier. 

“I hope you can hear me,” she adds in a hushed tone. Her face is wet, but she holds onto the fire she carries inside to keep talking, keep seeing him. “I hope you remember��� I still haven’t forgotten. You promised me Zephrah. ”

There’s a spark of something for a brief moment, a glint in his eye for a fraction of a second and Keyleth’s entire body fills with hope. But then it flickers, and a mask covers Vax’ildan’s beautiful face, inky dark mist spilling from the slits where the eyes sit as it turns white.

It’s not his voice she hears when the figure speaks. [[MORE]]

“It is not yet your time, child.” 

Pure fury rises inside her as she answers without thinking, “I made the last being who called me that regret it. Were you not there to catch her soul?”

Suddenly, the mask rushes in her direction and stops inches from her face, triplicating in size, imposing with the rest of its form revealing: the long dark veils, pointy hands, swirls of magical threads.

Vax remains at a distance; untouchable.

“You are trespassing, Tempest,” the Matron says, her voice somehow gentle and echoing. “It is not yet your time.”

Keyleth tries to take a deep breath. The raindrops are now suspended in the air, halfway through falling, and she can no longer smell petrichor. Maybe it’s why she feels repulsion and not hatred: she is a druid, after all, one who not only worships but is the elements and life itself and here is the presence of her antithesis, plain death and no rebirth.

“No, it’s not,” she says, voice cracking. “I know that.”

The masked figure leans down, its massive form still towering over her and still growing, trying to encompass the horizon.

“But here you are nonetheless.”

“I can’t help it. I won’t ever stop dreaming of him.”

There’s a pause.

“Careful, Archdruid. You may yet live for a very long time, but you are not actually immortal. Do not disrespect me.”

Keyleth frowns in confusion.

Vax, still out of reach, takes a step closer. And immediately gets pulled back by an invisible force. He shifts, from raven feathers to floating pools of blood to the sharp sound of knives clashing to cloaked humanoid to naked angelic omen and over and over and over again. 

Keyleth forces herself to see and in her mind’s eye it shows itself: a singular thread of pulsating light pulled taught, more evident than the sea of threads all around him, connecting Vax’ildan to something far beyond. Like a ley line or a bridge rope or a leash .

She breathes in and out. 

So it is not just a dream.

“I respect you, Matron,” she affirms, doing her best to ignore the massive masked head nearly blocking her vision now. She keeps her gaze on Vax in the distance, back to shifting from mist to feathers to person-shaped, moving through time and space, occasionally searching her eyes and faintly grinning. “But I can’t pretend to believe to be beneath you. You were once a mortal too so maybe I understand your loneliness, since the other gods probably have their qualms with you.”

"If you wish to honor me… and him," the Matron interrupts, roiling smoke and loose bright strings more clearly pulsating around her now. "You shall leave this place, Tempest, and seek to never return until fate makes it so."

Keyleth clenches her jaw, her heart beating loud in her chest and something boiling around it, spreading through her body like rage. Her fury has no place in Exandria and all the planes together wouldn't be able to contain it. It's been so long and she's still so goddamn angry , so deeply wounded. How dare– ? How cruel .

She holds her hand to her chest in a fist.

Fate.

The word reverberates inside her heart as she doesn't look away from Vax. Her hand opens like a flower blossoming, reaching for the sun.

Fate…

“No," she says, voice stern and composed, as she feels herself tremble not out of fear but as a testament to her control, to her power and her prowess. "I can't do that. It’s been many long years. He won't stop visiting me. So I won't stop reaching back."

The storm starts over, big raindrops falling and twirling in the harsh wind. It nourishes the soil, sprouts roots and vines and trees, tall as mountains, flowers and fruit luscious and ripe. This is not a dream, yet it flows through Keyleth like anything in nature does.

Vax tries to take a step forward once more, but he’s still so, so far away. Still so beautiful, and frozen in time like her. 

Keyleth feels flames licking up her shoulders, her head, the side of her face, her eyes. At her feet the rich wet earth dries and cracks and a pillar grows to propel her upwards, closer to the deity. She hovers in dissipating fog, under the brightest moonlight of Catha with the red hue of Ruidus on her back. 

"I hope you understand that I really do respect you, goddess," she continues. "But I can only treat you as an equal, because…”

Facing the Matron of Death but watching the lost love of her life, feeling in her element perhaps more than she's ever felt, Keyleth promises:

“Because it’s as an equal that I will take back what you stole.”

[renaissanceousia]

i think poseidon surrendering the war for percy explains why percy choose the gods' side in the future. because percy actually saw that his father is willing to give up glory for him, and he knows that glory is a big deal for the greeks. that's why despite understanding that luke's argument makes sense to some extent, he's still on the gods' side. his father's side.

[crazy-ache]

After Elain ripped off the rose necklace on that dreadful Solstice, tossing it into a pile of Azriel’s gifts, she immediately ran off to her room. She was able to hold the tears at bay, at least for now, at the sting of rejection that brought back memories of an older wound. On that night, she sat at her vanity, and something deep inside her urged her to open the drawer to her left. Inside was a small velvet box. Very carefully, Elain opened it and put on the pearl earrings—the same ones she had received earlier from her mate.

With a deep breath, she tucked her hair behind her ears. She hadn’t thanked him. Hadn’t told him that pearls had been her favorite. Elain stared at her reflection, at the way the pearl glimmered beautifully against her pointed ears, at the swirling brown of her eyes desperate to find recognition in the mirror. It felt as if she was about to crack wide open. Would he have found her to be what every other man or male regarded her—a mistake?

No, the bond inside her chest strummed. No, he wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t ever.

It terrified her how certain she was of that fact.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

[hystericmuse]

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes…

[utilitycaster]

The thing about Otohan is that she had an awesome mechanical build and she served a narrative purpose in that the party lived in fear of her for nearly 60 episodes but she truly did die as she lived, with a personality replaced by frogs and murderous intent. And the thing is I suspect there's plenty of interesting stuff about there. I've been there as a DM, having built a super cool NPC with worldbuiding ties that the party simply did not give a shit about, and I think that's the same situation here.

Legend of the Peaks isn't particularly meaningful since only two party members have any recollection of the Apex War and neither show the slightest interest in the politics thereof and they haven't really been relevant to the story. We don't know why she worshiped the Raven Queen once nor what happened to make her stop while still using that symbol...and it hasn't really been relevant to the story. We don't know if the backpack came from her or was from Ludinus...but it's not really relevant to the story other than tracing the potions of possibility back through Treshi and Jiana. We don't know what specifically drove her towards the Vanguard other than lacking answers as a Ruidusborn - which may have simply been enough - but again. Not relevant. We have Liliana to represent the perspective of a Ruidusborn who went through the Omen Archive study and whose motivations warped and twisted from a place of genuine worry and fear, and we have Ludinus to represent the centuries-long architect of this entire plan (plus he can't stop monologuing about his motivations, and that is a compliment). That's plenty.

And so Otohan consistently fails the Sexy Lamp With A Gun Attached Test, and it doesn't really matter, and I'm sure there was a backstory there but there's quite literally been no reason to care about it at any point, and I think most people do not. Her entire purpose within the narrative was that of a sentient evil Jersey Barrier that ultimately had to be blown up. I'm infinitely more interested in the loot drop that resulted from her death (and obviously the emotional ramifications of FCG's sacrifice) than any of her repetitive zealot bullshit.

[astralleywright]

there's nothing orym would ask of the other hells that he wouldn't do himself, which is sort of the problem, really

[ryomaandgundhamkin]

HEHEHEH 9im finally working on it bear with me

I love evil lunar sm💖🌷🌸🌺💥❤️💓🎉🎉💐 (rvknuhiin,wrhubiuhnbmgerihjnegrmb)

so fun things about this… I started making it like 4 months ago then I gave up on the sketch. Then I went back like 2 months ago and did some lineart. Then I’m back again now and I redid the lineart and now I’m coloring. I’m going to hate the background. 💖

[have-a-hiddles]

It just occurred to me. The day the Ghost movie opens (June 20th) is ALSO Summer Solstice / Litha / Midsomer / Alban Hefin. The longest day of the year. The shortest period of darkness. From Summer Solstice until Winter Solstice, the nights will get longer and longer.

I'm Wiccan, so I go by Litha.

As a spiritual holiday, Litha is a time for rituals and ceremonies that honour the sun and the energy of the summer season. It is a time to connect with the natural world and to celebrate the beauty and diversity of life. It is also a time to reflect on personal growth and to set intentions for the rest of the year.

Like Beltane, fire is the element of Litha. Bonfires were lit to assist the sun as it journeyed across the sky, changing course and shortening the days. It was believed that the faerie realm was the most accessible during Midsummer Night.

There's a few traditional ways to celebrate.

Spend time outside, whether that means going for a hike, having a picnic, or simply sitting in the sun and enjoying the warmth

Create a special meal or drink using seasonal ingredients, such as berries, herbs, or honey

Connect with friends and loved ones and participate in a group ritual or celebration.

Lighting bonfires or candles to celebrate the light and warmth of the sun

Decorating altars and sacred spaces with flowers, herbs, and other symbols of growth and vitality

Creating and sharing meals made with fresh, seasonal ingredients

Participating in activities that celebrate creativity, such as dancing, singing, or making art

Sooooo... Ghost concerts are called rituals, yes? So a lot of us will be attending a ritual both together and apart, just as it should be on Litha. And it's day for singing and dancing and celebrating the Light. As I recall, Lucifer means "light bringer". And the trailer was all "this is a celebration of life!" which is exactly what Litha is.

The colors typically associated with Litha include gold, green, and most importantly blue. Copia's color is that bright royal blue in contrast to the others; Primo was red, Secondo was green, Terzo was purple.

Litha is also an excellent time to communicate with "the other side". It has been suggested that Copia may resurrect one or more of the dead Papas.

Am I reaching? Maybe.

But I see you, Tobias! I see what you (maybe) did there!

[layalu]

this is from *checks calendar* 2 years ago now lol but. happy longest night!

[moonlit-dreamers]

ship dynamics r very silly to me

reference under cut

REBLOGS APPRECIATED

[ask-solstice-ghoul]

cool hair, seems very edible.

-@nameless-ghoullll-brooks🐐

*backing away*

….What..? 😰

[wizard-hubris]

Okay but what if - BUT WHAT IF - (and please note that I say this in a kicking-my-feet-twirling-my-hair-kind of way and not as too serious speculation) the next M9 reunion is gonna be a heist style visit to Xhorhas to break Essek out of trouble? What then??

(Like...we don't know how long Trent had time to fuck around and actually spread the word if he intended for that to be more than a threat...yeah he expected Caleb in the evening but also he was an incredibly powerful wizard. If Caleb can pop around all across the continent so can he, probably)

(But also please the amount of plotbunnies all the different possibilities are giving me........)

(Also also I know Matt's final words were probably meant to nod to Bells Hells but do they mean we're gonna get more M9 involvement in the solstice aftermath? As NPCs or otherwise? Because pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease I misses these assholes so much <3 )

(Edit: NO BUT WHAT IF THE NEXT M9 REUNION IS THE WEDDING????? JESTER CAN'T HAVE A WEDDING WITHOUT HER JESTIE THERE!! ALSO PLEASE WE NEED ANOTHER WEDDING ONESHOT)

[schizowitchic]

what the fuck was the point of spraying orange paint on stonehenge. Like.

Just Stop Oil why do that?? I get that they're trying to make a statement/get attention by targeting a national monument .

but doing damage to a World Heritage site isn't going to help. ESPECIALLY since it is sacred to druids and pagans in Britisn and the timing is off as well - 2 days before the summer solstice when people gather there for religious and spiritual purposes??

I just think the target for orange paint was not well picked

[sparring-spirals]

There is a universe in which i was caught up properly on CR whenever what the fuck went down and Imogen verbally and definitively declared that- after everything leading up to this and the back and forth and indecision- that she'd be willing to take down her mom if need be. and i would have been deeply insufferable and writing 20+ separate meta posts and liveblog yelling posts and shitposts. This is not that universe so instead we will put this post here where i can have wildly uninformed (aka 20 eps behind) Emotions about it until someday i actually catch up.

(I know. i accidentally wrote potentially wildly off base/deeply out of date meta again. what can i say. i like shaking the concept of An Imogen (even if it is Outdated Imogen) in a jar. sorry.)

Because i was watching long enough, I think, to see Imogen in the throes of the hope for something better, to understand that Imogen was viewing her mom was a figure and an idea and an answer, that would make things easier. Her mom was- gone, so early. And so her mom, in her mind, was not a person she was an idea, and there was so much hinged on that! Dogged determination and anger at her father and a deep seated dislike of the powers in her hands and head even as they gave her a guilty rush. There were promises there that maybe no one else had made, but Imogen believed. Things built up. Expectations made. Lore crafted, even unconsciously, around someone who was, yes, important to Imogen, but more importantly: Missing. Gone. A blank slate to be filled in. A promise of an answer guide to open questions.

And then she meets her mom, and Liliana Temult goes from a figure to a person- with all the bells and whistles and rough edges. She meets her mom and her mom turns her away. Tells her to run. Tells her she should go. Tells her to leave.

And Imogen doesn't. In the same way she kept visiting libraries, keps asking, kept pushing for answers when it was just about her magic and her headaches and the voices. Imogen always, always wants to know. She keeps digging, she keeps trying, she reaches out, over and over and keeps trying to touch this figure in mist until she's real under her hands, and. Evidence piles up- of deeds gone wrong, blood on her hands, a figure standing next to Otohan (her friends bodies scattered, lifeless, around Otohan). She keeps reaching out, keeps trying, and is rebuffed, over and over. Things get worse and the skies get redder and magic goes dead and she's still- unsure, because what if there's a better reason, what if there's a better way, there has to be a reason, why. There has to be, right- maybe if- maybe. Maybe-

Its just like- a person as an idea. As a symbol. As a promise. One you build yourself up around and towards. One you talk about, not talk to.

And then the fog clears, and they are a human.

(And she's your mom, and she's not what you imagined. She's done you wrong. She's done your loved ones wrong. She's hurt you. She's hurt others. She's going to keep hurting you. She is going to keep hurting everyone. She is too far gone to reason with. She is not listening to you. She is flawed. She is. dangerous. She looks so much like you. You look just like her. You are so similar. You have always known you were similar. You always hoped. You.

Are not her. You are not hers. She is not yours. She is not who you thought she was. She was always someone else. So are you.)

Imogen walks through the bases pretending to be her mother. Liliana is a known face- a powerful one, a figure people fear. A well known silhouette. Imogen slips into the shadows of it, sometimes, when it serves her, but we know- she knows- its all an act. All a lie.

Liliana, after all, is alive, and well, making choices that she believes in and fighting for things with a dogged determination maybe only matched by her daughter.

Imogen knows this. I think. There's a part of her that maybe wishes that wasn't the case.

"There is no loyalty with this blood." And after all- only living people bleed.

[sfsolstice]

i want someone to take this soul i can't bear to keep it i'd give it just to give

[astralleywright]

the craziest part is that orym really does love imogen so much. he saw keyleth in her, he told her she could be like the person he admires and respects most in the world! and then told keyleth that any faith she had in him she could have in imogen! and its all still true!! he thinks she's their only hope!! ahhh!!!