#beast bond and animal messenger!!!

[readwithnox]

10 Indie Fantasy Books with A-spec Main Characters

Enjoy some magical a-spec spec-fic.

From asexual to aromantic and every variation inbetween, these fantasy books have a wonderful selection of a-spec LGBTQIA+ main characters for your next read!

While some of these books don’t outright announce some of the characters’ identities in the story, there are cues that a-spec readers are likely to pick up on either in the first book or later in the series. For the ones that aren’t completely obvious, I’ve received confirmation from the authors.

Structural Integrity

by Tabitha O’Connell Fantasy Romance featuring an a-spec trans mc

Messenger boy Kel never expected to strike up a romance with a government official. But Yaan lacks the self-important snobbery of the others, seeing Kel as more than just a pretty face. Living with him in the city’s plush government complex is everything Kel could want: no more expenses, kitchen workers and resident animals to befriend, and of course seeing Yaan every day. Even if Yaan does spend most of his time working or worrying about work, and seems to have forgotten that they used to have actual conversations…

When the city decides to tear down the iconic theater building in Kel’s old neighborhood, Yaan’s indifference toward his pleas to help save it forces Kel to confront his growing unhappiness. In the aftermath, both will have to decide whether their relationship is salvageable.

Song of Phoenix and Ink

by Margherita Scialla New Adult Portal Fantasy featuring an a-spec mc and a-spec li

All Nadzia Kaminski wanted was to finish writing her novel.

When she finally finished the manuscript for Crimson Mayhem, she did what any writer would: gave it to her best friend to read. Her friend’s reaction, however, wasn’t what she had expected and, upset by her criticism, Nadzia left her at the café where they had met.

Waking up the next morning, Nadzia was no longer in her bedroom, finding herself in a world of her creation, surrounded by dangerous magic and vaguely familiar settings.

With a country at war and no clear way home, time is running out and Nadzia has to find a way to gain the trust of the very people she created and figure out her confusing feelings for two of her own characters.

She soon realizes stories aren’t perfect when there is no one left to write them.

Dirt-Stained Hands, Thorn-Pierced Skin

by Tabitha O’Connell Fantasy Romance featuring an a-spec nonbinary mc and a-spec li

A queer, Beauty-and-the-Beast-inspired novella

Heron thought ey wanted to be with handsome, charming Tiel — but the relationship hasn’t quite lived up to eir expectations. With Tiel’s confidence comes a tendency to be overbearing, and now he wants Heron to leave eir farm life behind and move to town with him. And Heron can’t figure out how to explain to him that ey doesn’t want that.

When an accident strands Heron’s mother at a castle rumored to belong to a family of mages, Heron rushes off to make sure she’s all right — only to find the castle occupied by a single man who isn’t a mage at all. Prone to hiding behind his long mess of hair, the mysterious Theomer possesses a long-neglected, semi-magical garden. A job tending it is Heron’s perfect opportunity for some time away from Tiel while ey decides what to tell him.

Heron did not plan to be drawn in by Theomer’s attentive gaze and understated sense of humor. But as an undeniable bond forms between them, ey’s soon going to have a much bigger choice to make…

A Searing Faith

by Audrey Martin Epic Dark Fantasy featuring an aroace fmc

When sixteen-year-old Rena finds herself the sole survivor of the fire that destroyed her home town, the only thing keeping her going is the suspicion that the tragedy wasn’t an accident. She is determined to find those responsible, no matter how far her quest might take her. But no one in charge of the kingdom of Kal-Hemma seems to care that this isn’t the first town destroyed by a mysterious fire. And according to Rena’s travelling companions, there’s a lot the members of the Royal Council aren’t telling their subjects.

If Rena is truly the only survivor of the tragedy, why did she find her sister’s ring outside of their destroyed home?

Who planted the strange bird figurines around the town’s church before the fire?

And what do the old, forgotten Gods have to do with any of this?

A Searing Faith is the first book in an epic fantasy series and based on the award-winning, interactive audio drama The Heart Pyre.

A Kind Voice in Hell

by Ames Mullery Urban Fantasy featuring an a-spec trans mc

What’s a few years of bloody gladiator matches and witchcraft-for-hire when your best friend’s life is on the line?

To cover the soaring costs of his best friend’s life-saving healthcare Lark signs away everything he’s got — his body, his freedom, even his witchcraft — to a billionaire who plays at philanthropy for entertainment. Although Lark may have the heart of a saint, he doesn’t have the patience of one. It isn’t long before he begins to rock the boat and ends up threatening the very people he wants to save in his reckless heroics.

A KIND VOICE IN HELL is a story about an occult-obsessed billionaire looking for away to bring gladiators into the twenty-first century, a trans man with a hero complex who has never known illness a day in his life, and the disabled people caught in the middle. It contains queer love, found family, and a hero who needs to sit down and shut up before he tries to help anyone.

Follow Lark as he forges an unlikely alliance on the inside and weaves masterful spellwork in hopes of changing the world for the better.

Havesskadi

by Ava Kelly Fantasy featuring an a-spec mc

The red dragon is hunting her own. Up in the icy peaks of the northern mountains, Orsie Havesskadi spends his days hiding from her, but eventually he is found and his dragon magic stolen. Cursed to wander the lands as a mortal unless he recovers his magic before twenty-four rising crescents have passed, Orsie embarks on an arduous journey. Spurred by the whispers in his mind, his quest takes him to a castle hidden deep in a forest.

Arkeva Flitz, a skilled garrison archer, discovers an abandoned castle in the woods. Trapped there, he spends his days with his two companions, one cruel, the other soothing. One day, a young man arrives at his gates, and soon they are confined by heavy snowfalls and in danger from what slumbers in the shadows of the castle.

The Thirteenth Key

by Cara Nox New Adult Science Fantasy featuring an ace mmc

The chaotic crew of heisting misfits in Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows meets the familiar yet fantastical, modern landscape found in Robert Jackson Bennett’s City of Stairs.

“The thirteen emblems given to the original rulers weren’t just symbols. They’re keys to the Vault — one that no one’s ever opened.”

Noa has lived her life as an unsuspecting, ID-burning, face in the crowd that disposes of “problems” for her miscellaneous, secretive employers. So, when Noa’s surrogate father — a Seer — hands her a long-lost emblem, telling her with his dying breath that it’s her responsibility to reignite magic, she laughs at the idea that the fate of their world rests on the shoulders of a killer. Instead, she uses his words and the key he gave her as an excuse to go on one final suicide mission to seek out the power supposedly waiting for her to annihilate his murderer.

Prince Glacier Caelius has lived his life trapped inside a gilded cage, pushed down by the ever-present threat of death as the bastard son of Amarais’s late king. But when the rebels attack during a nationalist party, Glacier’s rescued by none other than Noa and her merry band of thieves, who are scrambling to salvage a failed attempt at stealing his country’s emblem: the Soul of Amarais. When the dust settles, he’s the only person left alive to unlock the palace vault and give the Soul to Noa in exchange for saving his life.

Well, once they’re able to formulate a plan to take the palace back.

Struggling with their tentative, newfound freedom, Noa and Glacier must learn to work together to survive the urban landscape of Avaria’s greatest cities fortified by technology in the wake of dwindling magic. The goal: steal as many keys as they can before their pasts catch up. But the further they go, the more they realize that something worse may be lurking on the horizon, and they may very well be the only ones able to stop it.

Bloody Spade

by Brittany M. Willows Young Adult Urban Fantasy featuring an ace fmc, aro mmc, and demi fmc

Bloody Spade is the first installment in an upper YA urban fantasy duology that follows a cat-eared thief and a softhearted girl as they navigate his wild magic, her hotheaded brother, a sinister plot, and the feelings they’re developing for each other. Suitable for fans of A Darker Shade of Magic and This Savage Song, or anime/manga such as RWBY and D.Gray-Man.

A girl full of heart A thief touched by darkness A hot-tempered golden boy An unwitting servant of evil

The era of magic was once thought to be a myth, but after the Reemergence ushered forces both dark and light into the mundane world, it has since become a harsh reality. Now those affected by this strange power — a specialized group of Empowered called Jokers, known collectively as Cardplay — must protect their world from the darkness that threatens to consume it, all the while fighting for equality in a society clinging to normalcy.

But the Reemergence was only the beginning.

When another influx occurs on the seventh anniversary of that fateful event, an unfortunate encounter at ground zero lands Iori Ryone, a teenage boy in possession of a corrupt and legendary magic, in the care of recent Joker graduate Ellen Amelia Jane. From him, she learns the Reemergence may not have been the inevitable natural disaster it first seemed.

Someone is trying to tear down the barrier that separates the magical realms from the mundane. The question is why, and can Cardplay stop them before it’s too late?

Tell Me How It Ends

by Quinton Li Young Adult Fantasy featuring an aroace nonbinary mc

A coming-of-age cozy fantasy with a queer cast, witches, and tarot. Perfect for fans of Legends & Lattes and Our Flag Means Death.

Iris Galacia’s tarot cards do more than entertain gamblers.

With the flip of her fingers she can predict the future and uncover a person’s secrets. But under the watchful eye of her mother, she is on thin ice for pursuing a passion in the family business, and then cracks start to form until she eventually she falls through.

She is given an ultimatum — a test to prove her worth: earn a thousand coins or leave the business, and the family.

Enter Marin Boudreau, a charming young person who can scale buildings and break off door knobs, who comes for her help to rescue a witch who’s been falsely imprisoned in Excava Kingdom.

And Marin is willing to pay a high sum for her talents.

But saving a prisoner from royal hands isn’t easy, nor is leaving home for the first time in eighteen years.

Now Iris must learn to trust in herself, Marin, and this new magical world, while racing the clock before the royals decide the fate of the witch, and before any secrets catch up to her.

Trick

By Cara Nox New Adult Urban Fantasy featuring a demi fmc and aroace mmc

Cassandra Clare’s The Mortal Instruments series meets V.E. Schwab’s The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue with a dash of Disney+’s Loki in this new adult urban fantasy.

WELCOME TO NEW ATLAS: A CITY WITHIN A REALITY JUST BEYOND OUR OWN.

Evie is a nobody. Spending her days in college classes and her nights studying, having a social life has never really been a priority. With her sights firmly set on the future to keep away her thoughts of the past, she loses her grip on the present when her world is ripped out from under her. And it’s all thanks to two mysterious strangers showing up on her doorstep, claiming that she can turn back time.

Cade is a notorious troublemaker. He’s never been afraid to throw around his name to get what he wants as someone who’s clawed his way to the top. But power is quick to change hands in this city, and when he chooses to blatantly disregard an order from his leader, his older brother, he’s tossed back down to the bottom again. He’ll be more than lucky to regain any sort of trust when everyone knows he’s one of the best spies there is, sliding in and out of shadows in the blink of an eye.

Ren is a bored teenager. Always labeled as the “golden child” or “gifted student,” he finds himself writing down cryptic messages and following strange leads, rather than putting on the same old song and dance for his family. Especially once he discovers his little stolen fragments of the future are starting to take a darker turn. Perhaps chasing the life everyone wants him to have isn’t necessarily in the cards for him, but there’s only one way to find out.

So when someone within the secret society known as the Custodians targets Evie for her power, the clock starts in the final sprint to hunt down the culprit. In order to uncover whatever hidden clues are lurking in the past, the three of them have no choice but to peel back the layers of obscurity built up between their factions to figure out why she’s being hunted and how they might be able to fix their bleak futures before it’s too late.

Just remember: time is nothing but a trick.

Follow the divine archivists on twitter for more queer indie lists, reviews, and recommendations.

Where to find Cara Nox: instagram • twitter • writing tumblr • reading tumblr

Disclaimer: anything purchased through the links provided in this article helps me continue writing with compensation through Amazon’s affiliate program.

[applebees4prez]

i'm working on disney fairies homebrew for my friends and i and thought i'd share in case anyone wants to use it and especially if anyone wants to give me suggestions.

Race: Fairy

Ability Score Increase: Dex increases by 2 and choose one other stat to increase by 1. 

Flight: You have a fly speed of 30 ft.

Walking: You have a walking speed of 1 ft.

Language: You can understand, speak, read, and write Sylvan. You can understand Common. 

Classes:

Tinker:

Ability Scores: +1 to Intelligence

Saving Throws: Constitution, Intelligence

Skills: Choose two from Investigation, Sleight of Hand

Tools: Expertise with Tinkers’ Tools

Animal:

Ability Scores: +1 to Charisma

Saving Throws: Wisdom, Charisma

Skills: Animal Handling (expertise), Insight

Spells: 

Animal Friendship

Beast Bond

Speak with Animals

Animal Messenger

Beast Sense

Summon Beast

Locate Animals (or Plants)

Water

Ability Scores: +1 to Dexterity

Saving Throws: Strength, Dexterity

Skills: Nature, Sleight of Hand

Spells: 

Shape Water

Create or Destroy Water

Light

Ability Scores: +1 to Dexterity

Saving Throws: Dexterity, Wisdom

Skills: Acrobatics, Nature

Spells: 

Light

Shape Light (homebrew)

Faerie Fire

Produce Flame

Absorb Elements

Moonbeam

Garden

Ability Scores: +1 to Wisdom

Saving Throws: Dexterity, Wisdom

Skills: Arcana, Nature

Spells: 

Druidcraft

Mold Earth

Earth Tremor

Goodberry

Locate (Animals or) Plants

Fast-Flying

Ability Scores: +1 to Dexterity

Saving Throws: Dexterity, Constitution

Skills: Acrobatics, Arcana

Fly Speed: 50 ft.

Spells: 

Thorn Whip

Absorb Elements

Fog Cloud

Air Bubble

Dust Devil

Gust of Wind

Warding Wind

Dust

Ability Scores: +1 to Intelligence

Saving Throws: Strength, Intelligence

Skills: Investigation, Nature

Tools: Alchemist’s Supplies

let me know what you think or if you use it! i would especially love some thoughts on gameplay.

[gorbalsvampire]

Building Koldun in V5

So a while back I was in the 'tism hole over Tzimisce koldun, and talking a big game about rebuilding Koldunism as a series of Rituals for non-Sorcery Disciplines. I pulled a bunch of names from the WW Wiki, assigned them to parent powers and started writing situational modifiers. But I also looked at the Paradox Wiki to see what had made the jump to V5, and... there's a lot more of the old Tzim-Tzim flavour in Blood Sorcery than I'd initially realised.

The thing is, Blood Sorcery is a messy Discipline, with its powers representing (at least) three magical traditions and spread out across (at least) five rulebooks. So... I went through everything I could access and picked out the Rituals with the right vibes, plus powers at each level to serve as the baseline. And then I started making full character builds because, er. I have brain problems?

Blood Sorcery

L1 - Koldunic Sorcery Beelzebeatit, Clinging of the Insect, Coax the Garden, Craft Bloodstone, Douse the Fear, Enrich the Blood, Herd Ward, Letter Ward

L2 - Scour Secrets [Protean: Visceral Absorbtion] [Dominate: Ancestral Dominion] As Fog on Water, Calling the Aura’s Remnants, Depths of Nightmare, Elemental Grasp, Tiamat Glistens, Viscera Garden

L3 - Transitive Bond Communal Vigour, Elemental Shelter, Essence of Air, Eyes of the Past, Firewalkerm, Galvanic Ruination, Herd Ward (Major), One With The Blade, Seeing with the Sky’s Eyes, Seeking Tiamat, Soul of the Homunculus, The Unseen Change

L4 - Blood Aegis Compel the Inanimate, Defence of the Sacred Haven, Feast of Ashes, Guided Memory, Land’s Sustenance, Rending the Sweet Earth, Riding the Earth’s Veins

L5 - Reclamation of Vitae Dominion, Elemental Attack, Fisher King, Heart of Stone, Transferring the Soul

The parent powers I've selected are mostly concerned with acquiring knowledge (the scrying effect of Koldunic Sorcery and the speed-reading capacity of Scour Secrets), moving into management of Retainers and Herd at the higher levels.

Other Disciplines

Dominate: Compel, Cloud Memory, Domitor’s Favour, Ancestral Dominion Protean: Eyes of the Beast, Feral Weapons, Earth Meld, Visceral Absorption, One with the Land Animalism: Bond Famulus, Animal Messenger, Messenger’s Command, Animal Succulence Fortitude: Resilience, Enduring Beasts Auspex: Sense the Unseen, Unerring Pursuit [Reveal Temperament], Eyes of Beasts

You're not going to get all of these and Blood Sorcery, but I wanted to showcase a few potential pathways. Dominate is there for the Old Clan vibe, building up Retainers and Mawla once the utility powers are out of the way.

Protean powers are more in the vein of touching ground than meat crimes, but you can totally sub in Vicissitude for Feral Weapons and Horrid Form for Visceral Absorption if you want to be basic. ;)

With Animalism and Fortitude I've tried to build into another "retainer" concept with the Famulus powers, kind of a witch's familiar that evokes the Mephistophelean Minx ritual from before.

And finally, Auspex. For the old-fashioned true-Tzimisce stans out there, we have perceptions extended into the spiritual and bestial, tying into Animalism to observe as well as instruct through the Famulus. You could also take a swarm approach here, if you wanted (for example) a chattering rookery as spies for the Koldun.

Recommended Loresheet: Veins of the Earth.

Predator Type: If ancilla, Osiris will allow Blood Sorcery 3 at character creation (if you can twist your ST's arm into letting you take the first one despite Not Being A Tremere, which I think is reasonable: it's not like there were Tzimisce rules when the V5 core was written). If neonate, Osiris is still the most efficient from an XP standpoint, but the 10 XP for Koldunic Sorcery and a Ritual are within easy reach for any Predator Type.

The house considers Montero to be flavourful for an aloof scholar and scryer whose Retainers do the boring bits for them. I've been wanting to make that Predator Type work since I first saw it and it just hits right for a Tzimisce.

Complete Builds

First up, the Refugee. This neonate character has a lot of flexibility, isn't bad in a fight (six dice Brawl pool with a Rouse, and Aggravated damage - you could always shift the 4 dots into Strength if you wanted more combat focus, or chuck Feral Weapons for Vicissitude if you wanted some classic meat crimes in there).

I've built them as dependent on a sponsor, an elder of their chosen sect who's taken them in: perhaps they were a street kid with potential, or perhaps they're a recent defector from the Sabbat who left without much more than the clothes they stood up in.

And now, a playable ancilla, the Lady of the Scene! This concept eschews broad Disciplines in favour of deeper Koldunism and a more developed Famulus; they're a leader, not a fighter. They've been around for a while, building a community around themself and embedding themselves into the city at large. They're not exactly famous, but it's known that they can intercede on your behalf and get things done. If you have a problem nobody else can help with, the witch is there...

We've got some classic vampire weaknesses: the invitation thing works for an old-fashioned Tzimisce (this one's much more Old Clan in feeling, without even the potential for Vicissitude) and holy water ties nicely to selecting water as their Koldunic element (I see this character having a scrying pool in their basement). There's some post-Sabbat baggage in the form of the Shunned flaw, and Stigmata feels like an appropriate "hide in plain sight" choice for a character who could well be a cult leader. In fact, if we look closely at the sheet, I went more specific with this one without meaning to... I engineered this with the Santa Muerte cult in mind, and that's the concept I'd lean into if and when I personally got to play this one.

This is the first time I've shared something like this, but I really hope people like it, and it makes sense, because I love building premades and I could very easily do more of these. Maybe even by request? If you've got a concept you want me to put some numbers behind, get in my askbox. Otherwise I'm gonna start blurting about the Redemption coterie - unless people REALLY hate the focus on sheets and numbers and want me to go away and stop talking.

[dawn-of-worlds]

Love Herds

(Turn 15; Haebarik has 4+3+2d6->9=16 power)

Slowly, over time, the Tarbra bold enough to venture into the southeastern mountains of Haebrach discover passes and goat paths, guided by a desire for new grazing grounds and lands free from ohmlings. Eventually, passage is found, and migrants stream south, bringing what animals they can, and taming those they find.

As they spread out over the continent's southern peninsula, they find something else entirely.

A mark, perhaps the last mark, left upon this world by an ancient slumbering god. A great region of the plains, dozens of miles in length, where the grass is purple-hued, the wind is always still, the stars above seem off. The first herders avoided this land, which they thought to be terribly cursed. But purple grass can be grazed still, and so ever bolder Tarbra led their beasts through these lands, until at last it became just another odd landmark.

Over generations, changes begin to take hold.

Their beasts grow more docile, less fearsome, their tusks and claws shrinking and dulling. Some grow blisters of soft flesh, which can be harvested like one picks fruit without harm to the animal. Some retain their umbilical, which toughens and strengthens until they may move it as a Gegant its trunk. Some are born dead, or too deformed to live; these the herders bury without further thought. The eldritch influence that lingers in their bodies leaks out, over time, and spreads the change-marked zone ever further.

The Tarbra, too, have their changes, but theirs are more subtle. Many develop purple eyes or lose their fingernails; some find the taste of meat now repulses them. A rare mutation sees their back-arm split fractally at the three joints, so that eight hands all grow from a single point.

The Tarbra tendencies towards communal labor and pack-bonding are strongly intensified in these beings, which universally tend towards altruism, empathy, and nonviolence. Some claim that all these new Tarbra, who call themselves Mera, love all life as they love themselves; a ridiculous notion that seems frightfully true.

Individual clans swiftly fuse, sharing herds and lands. Old institutions fade, a pseudo-eusocial system arises in its place, centered around a grand stone city at the magenta heart of the plains, where wandering herds come and go with their many docile beasts to provide the citizens with milk and flesh-blisters. Here in Lach Lero, the place of love, are born most new Mera, who grow ever more distant from the Tarbra, who feel a love ever more universal.

The Mera are prosperous: their herds are not ravaged by conflict, their people know they may all trust each other, and each is possessed by a drive to improve the lives of their fellows. Their civilization sends out scouts and missionaries, preaching compassion across the mountains: some travel south in search of utopia, but most ignore the messengers and continue to raid upon each other. It would be wrong to ascribe this to malice: each year some herds suffer more than others, and the divided northern people have no way of correcting the balance but warfare. A few even try to strike at the Mera, who are torn between their aversion to violence and their concern for their fellows, and at last tearfully repel the invasion.

Some, after those events, come to believe that only the transformation they underwent can bring about true peace. But others suggest that the right rulers, the right laws, they too can foster peace and love. Both groups research and theorize, and Lach Lero's knowledge of eldritch energies and psychology grow side by side.

In time, those skilled in both arts find ways to channel the power of long-gone Zaag. This mind-magic, in the local language called Psyk, is employed to create great crystal pillars that link the thoughts of Lach Lero's denizens, to tame and command beasts without a word, and to reform that rare Mera born without the endless compassion they all share.

(those that resist, that hide their condition and flee, that are born outside Lach Lero's reach; they often find refuge amidst other tarbra, and though some in time find their own path to a more human kind of love, some wield great psychic power unmarred by compassion, and so become the terrifying potentates of northern tribes)

For now, this power is restricted to the Mera and those subject to their meddling. But that meddling extends ever further north, and already some dare hope of 'civilizing' the whole continent, of establishing One Great Herd that all life might flourish by, of abolishing disease and death, of joining all minds in one and ending the cruelty of separation!

Perhaps the love of gods is too great for a mortal mind to hold?

(Create Subrace 10 points, Advance Civilization 6 points, 0 points left)

(Obviously, Zaag-Ghvaash can command these as if they were her own)

[ainews]

In 1602, a mighty warg was used to solidify Taiwan’s first international posts. Commissioned by the Dutch East India Company, this fierce but spiritual beast helped secure the treaty sent by the Governor of the Chinese province of Fujian to the colonial authorities in Southeast Asia.

The treaty, signed by Governor Zou Ben, granted trading rights to the Dutch, and detailed the exclusive relationship between Fujian and the foreign traders. The governor sent a messenger to Taiwan with a letter outlining the terms and a portrait of a wolf as a symbol of the "power" that should be respected by both sides.

The warg, known also as a wolf or "ling", is a powerful animal in Norse mythology. It is believed to be a harbinger of chaos, destruction, and death - but also a source of protection, personifying fierce, intelligent, loyal warriors. This symbol held a special significance to the imperial court in Taiwan, as the Dutch East India Company was a long-time ally to the Fujianese.

Not only did the warg appear on the portrait sent with the messenger, but a ceremonial warg-head was also sent separately. It sat, watching, on the threshold of the Dutch trading posts for many years, a symbol of the ancient and meaningful bond between the Dutch traders and their Chinese neighbors.

The warg is an important sign of the past and the strength of the trading networks between Taiwan and South East Asia in the 17th century. For centuries, the warg has stood as an emblem of power and loyalty, and its presence will serve as a reminder of the Dutch trade with China.

[cagemasterfantasy]

Ranger Spells (5e)

1st level spells: Absorb Elements, Alarm, Animal Friendship, Beast Bond, Cure Wounds, Detect Magic, Detect Poison and Disease, Ensnaring Strike, Entangle, Fog Cloud, Goodberry, Hail of Thorns, Hunter Mark, Jump, Longstrider, Searing Smite, Snare, Speak with Animals, Zephyr Strike

2nd level spells: Aid, Air Bubble, Animal Messenger, Barkskin, Beast Sense, Cordon of Arrows, Darkvision, Enhance Ability, Find Traps, Gust of Wind, Healing Spirit, Lesser Restoration, Locate Animals or Plants, Locate Object, Magic Weapon, Pass Without Trace, Protection from Poison, Silence, Spike Growth, Summon Beast

3rd level spells: Ashardalon's Stride, Conjure Animals, Conjure Barrage, Daylight, Elemental Weapon, Flame Arrows, Lightning Arrow, Meld into Stone, Nondetection, Plant Growth, Protection from Energy, Revivify, Speak with Plants, Summon Fey, Water Breathing, Water Walk, Wind Wall

4th level spells: Conjure Woodland Beings, Dominate Beast, Freedom of Movement, Grasping Vine, Guardian of Nature, Locate Creature, Stoneskin, Summon Elemental

5th level spells: Commune with Nature, Conjure Volley, Greater Restoration, Steel Wind Strike, Swift Quiver, Tree Stride, Wrath of Nature

@doodl3 Emma

[prestigious-subclasses]

Effigy Master

A subclass for artificers

Fascinated by the animating force of life itself, the effigy master is an expert in the imitation of true life. Through long study and experimentation, he learns to infuse his creations with a pseudo-life far more resilient and vital than that which animates similar creations of other spellcasters. The effigy master brings to life sculptures made of clay, snow, wax, or mud, and uses this ability to create guardians, defenses, and even companions and cohorts.

Tool Proficiency

When you adopt this specialization at 3rd level, you gain proficiency with potter’s tools. If you already have this proficiency, you gain proficiency with one other type of artisan's tools of your choice.

Effigy Master Spells

Starting at 3rd level, you always have certain spells prepared after you reach particular levels in this class, as shown in the Effigy Master Spells table. These spells count as artificer spells for you, but they don’t count against the number of artificer spells you prepare.

Artificer Level Effigy Master Spells

3rd Entangle, Find Familiar

5th Animal Messenger, Summon Beasts

9th Phantom Steed, Summon Fey

13th Grasping Vine, Summon Construct

17th Animate Objects, Insect Plague

Summon Effigy

Also at 3rd level, you begin summoning effigies; lifelike automatons. Whenever you cast a spell that summons or creates creatures that aren't already constructs, those creatures gain the two following benefits:

The creature is a construct.

It is immune to poison damage and the poisoned and charmed conditions.

Effigy Companion

At 5th level, whenever you finish a long rest, you can sculpt a single beast out of clay, snow, wax, or mud, and spend an item infusion to create an effigy companion. This counts as one of your item infusions, and you can only have a single effigy companion at a time. It uses the stat block of a CR 1 or less beast, except that the creature is a construct and it is immune to poison damage and the poisoned and charmed conditions. If you create a new effigy companion, the old one falls apart as a pile of its original materials.

In combat, the effigy acts during your turn. It can move and use its reaction on its own, but the only action it takes is the Dodge action, unless you take a bonus action on your turn to command it to take another action. That action can be one in its stat block or some other action. You can also sacrifice one of your attacks when you take the Attack action to command the beast to take the Attack action. If you are incapacitated, the beast can take any action of its choice, not just Dodge.

Better Effigies

Starting at 9th level, your effigies improve. Your effigy companion and any construct summoned or created by a spell that you cast gains two benefits:

It’s HP becomes the higher of its usual HP or 7 + seven times your artificer level.

It is immune to psychic damage and the frightened and petrified conditions.

Plant Effigies

Also at 9th level, when you create your effigy companion, you may have it take the form of an awakened shrub or awakened tree, except that the creature is a construct and receives the benefits of Summon Effigy and Better Effigies.

Effigy Bond

By 15th level, you may, as a bonus action on your turn, create a link between yourself and a friendly construct that you touch. This link is active while you and the construct are within line of sight of each other. Through the link, the construct can understand your telepathic messages to it. If it speaks or understands any languages, it can send telepathic messages back to you; otherwise, it can telepathically communicate simple emotions and concepts back to you. While the link is active, the construct gains advantage on attack rolls against any creature within 5 feet of you that you can see.

[thearcanacheck]

A Note on Beastmode Spells

Quite a few spells and magical abilities in common use exclusively work on creatures classified as “Beasts.” What exactly makes a Beast a Beast? A beast is a creature that is affected by spells that target only beasts.

Or rather, mostly beasts.

The following spells have niche use-cases for when they can be used on a creature that isn’t explicitly a “beast.” The following magical effects are hard to replicate, unless cast by an especially powerful mage.

Animal Friendship: This spell has similar effects on Monstrosities, Humanoids, and Undead Beasts -- although such creatures have advantage on the saving throw. Although intelligent creatures are immune to this spell, druids, rangers, and outlanders often cast this on one-another as a greeting, as if to say “I mean you no harm!”

Beast Bond: This spell can be used on raging, humanoid Barbarians. However, if the Barbarian has an intelligence higher than 4, the sheer anger of the rage can be too much to bear. Whenever the bonded Barbarian takes damage, you take half as much damage as psychic damage.

Speak with Animals: Using a spell slot of the 3rd level or higher allows you to target humanoids and a 5th level spell slot allows you to target monstrosities and dragons -- however, creatures you target must have an intelligence of 8 or lower. Using a 9th level spell slot grants you the benefits of “Contact Other Plane” without having to make an intelligence save. The entity you contact must be a “Nature” domain deity.

Beast Sense: For each spell slot you use above the 1st, the caster can target a Monstrosity/Humanoid with a slightly higher intelligence score than 4. For example, a fifth-level spell slot allows you to target a humanoid with an intelligence of 8. If used on a non-Beast, the spell’s duration only lasts one minute.

Animal Messenger: This spell can be used to target non-beast familiars who are friendly to you. If you target a friendly Druid that has shape-changed into a tiny beast, the Druid is able to maintain that shape-change for the duration of this spell -- reverting back to a Humanoid the instant they arrive at the location. This spell ends early if the Druid reverts back to a humanoid 

Locate Animals (or Plants): Rangers casting this spell can target a creature that is their favored enemy. Bards are able to channel the “voice of nature” through their instrument, allowing nearby creatures to listen to the directions as well. Druids can cast this spell as a ritual if they’re transformed into a bloodhound, however, the Druid “loses the scent” if they revert back to a humanoid.

Conjure Animals: Undead beasts, dragons, monstrosities, oozes, and plants of the appropriate CR can allow themselves to be summoned if you’ve previously secured the creature as an ally. The creature also must live in the Feywild, so that the “Fey Spirits” can spirit the creature to you at a moment’s notice (otherwise the summoning may take a few business days).

Dominate Beast: Polymorphed creatures, shape-changed Druids, Eberron Shifters, and raging Totem Barbarians are vulnerable to this spell.

Awaken: Casting this spell at the 9th level (with an impossibly rare agate from the heavens of Arborea) allows you to target friendly creatures of any type, however the creature is not charmed afterwards.

Awakening a Druid increases their maximum wisdom to “30,” allows them to speak while shape-changed, and allows them to shape-change into any creature that isn’t an undead, fiend, celestial, construct, or aberration. 

Awakening a Barbarian allows them to cast wisdom-based spells while raging, and they can expend a use of their rage to gain the benefit of a Druid’s Wildshape. The limitations for a Barbarian’s wildshape corresponds to how many levels of Druid/Barbarian they have.

Awakening a Lycanthrope or a Shifter allows them to willingly shape-change between different Lycanthropes/Shifters, respectively, as an action. Furthermore, the Lycanthrope’s alignment reverts back to what it was before being cursed.

[nerdythebard]

#3: Ah Muzen Cab, God of Bees

Hello again, gods and goddesses!

This time, we focus on a very unusual figure. I'll be(e) honest, I had no idea there was a separate function as the God of Bees, but apparently, several ancient religions do have somebody for that specific task. Plus, there is surprisingly very little information on Ah Muzen Cab, who holds that position in the Maya pantheon, but when you think about it, it actually makes sense: honey was believed to have medicinal properties, it has an almost infinite shelf life, and is used as the main ingredient for mead... no wonder people would think of bees as divine creatures and honey as a sacred food. Sure, why not. Let's see what all the buzz is about!

Next time: When there's no more room in hell...

Now, let's set up some goals for this build. What do we need to make Ah Muzen Cab sting:

Bees: Goes without saying, what's a god without his minions? We gotta get those lil' buzzers somehow;

High Movement Speed: Pretty obvious, you're a bee god, you gotta zoom around;

High Attack Speed: Your sting stings and many stings sting even better. Let's make sure we can get a few extra hits on our turn;

Honey: Bees are cute and their puke is delicious. We have to include it somehow.

When it comes to Ah Muzen Cab's race, there were several options. I could've made him a Simic Hybrid for the nice carapace feature; or maybe a Gith, to reference his mysterious origins; at some point, I believe I even considered a winged Tiefling... but luckily, Wizards of the Coast came to my rescue with their latest Unearthed Arcana 2021: Folk of the Feywild.

Ah Muzen Cab is a Fairy. He's not the largest of gods in SMITE, so making him a size Small shouldn't be an issue. Fairies get a ground speed AND flying speed of 30 feet each, and a +2 and +1 to two stats of your choice; let's go with +2 Wisdom and +1 Dexterity. Instead of humanoid, we're now considered Fey creature type, and we have innate, unlimited flight ability (with hovering). We know Common language and one more of our choice (I suggest Sylvan) and we get the Fairy Magic feature, which gives us two spells from the start: Druidcraft, a cantrip that lets us interact with nature in one way or another (by for example opening flower pods, making them bloom, creating harmless sensory effects, etc.), and Faerie Fire, which marks everything in a 20-foot cube range with a bright aura, essentially preventing invisibility if a creature fails the saving throw (it's normally Dexterity, but we can pick Wisdom here, and so we shall). Another curious ability is Fey Passage, which allows us to squeeze through an opening even 1 inch wide.

For Ah Muzen Cab's background, to reflect his solitude and mystery around his very being, we're gonna pick the Hermit. We get proficiency in Medicine and Religion skills, proficiency in Herbalism Kit and we get to learn one language of our choice. We're now prepared to gather pollen and make our own honey. We also get the Discovery feature, which means we possess a particularly important piece of information. It honestly can be anything, from a crucial part of the campaign's plot to something more personal (for example 1001 recipes involving honey).

ABILITY SCORES

For the quick and nimble Ah Muzen Cab, Dexterity will be our first stat. We will be a caster in some degree, and our casting ability is going to be Wisdom. Follow that up with Constitution, for some Hit Points, then Strength and Charisma, and finally we'll dump Intelligence.

CLASS

We have yet another no-multiclass build. Ah Muzen Cab is going to be(e) nature-themed, quick, and ready to deal a plethora of ranged damage. He's a Ranger (Revised) start-to-finish.

As a Ranger, our Hit Dice is a d10. We start with Hit Points of 10 + our CON modifier, proficiency with light armour, medium armour and shields, as well as simple weapons and martial weapons. For Ah Muzen Cab, I think we should go with studded leather armour and a hand crossbow to mimic his carapace and stinger. We don't get proficiencies with any tools, and our saving throws are Strength and Dexterity. We get to choose three class skills, I'd say Animal Handling, Perception, and Survival fit Ah Muzen Cab's personality best.

---

Level 1: We start this build by choosing our Favoured Enemy. That's right, using the power of fantasy racism we can select a type of creature we are most effective against. We have an option of being the natural enemy of beasts, fey, humanoids, monstrosities, or undead. I'd say to choose either humanoids or fey, but this is to be adjusted to the campaign played. What's important is that we gain +2 damage against the chosen enemy type, we have an advantage on Survival checks related to tracking an enemy of said type, and Intelligence checks to recall any information about that type. We also get another language of our choice.

Another 1st-level feature we get is called Natural Explorer. As a master of the wilderness, we receive various benefits:

We can ignore any difficult terrain;

We have an advantage on initiative rolls;

On our first turn of combat, we have an advantage against enemies that hadn't acted yet.

Additionally, we grant the following benefits if we travel for an hour or more:

Difficult terrain doesn't slow our group's travel;

The group cannot be lost (unless by magic);

Even if we're engaged in some activity while travelling (foraging, tracking, etc.), we cannot be surprised by enemies;

If we're travelling alone, we can move stealthily at a regular pace;

We find twice as much food while foraging;

While tracking creatures, we learn their exact size, numbers, and how long ago they were at our current location.

Level 2: At this level, we get to learn some spells. Although we don't get any cantrips, nor can we cast ritual spells, there are a few tricks that will enhance our build. Wisdom is our spellcasting ability and we begin with two 1st-level spell slots and we learn two 1st-level spells: Alarm lets us put a 20-foot cube under magical surveillance for 8 hours. If any undesignated creature enters the cube, we are notified of the intrusion. We can flavour this spell by creating a small hive with bees buzzing around the perimeter. Hunter's Mark puts a target on one enemy for 1 hour (or until our concentration is broken); until the spell ends, the marked enemy receives extra 1d6 damage and we get an advantage on any Perception or Survival checks we roll in order to find it. If the enemy dies while marked, we can spend a bonus action to mark another creature.

At this level, we also get to pick our Fighting Style and Close Quarters Shooter lets us eliminate the disadvantage while shooting at a target that's within our melee range. We also ignore half-covers and three-quarters covers within 30 feet, and we get +1 to our ranged attack rolls.

Level 3: Our bond with nature deepens at this level. We get the Primeval Awareness feature; we can establish some basic-level communication with a non-hostile beast - we can learn of its emotional state, or if it's under any magical influence. Additionally, we can spend a minute of concentration to detect our Favoured Enemy within 5 miles of our current position.

This is also the level at which we pick our subclass and the Swarmkeeper Conclave finally lets us get our bees!

Our Gathered Swarm is a buzzing bundle of bees, which stays with us until we die. On each of our turns in combat, the Swarm can assist us in various ways. After we successfully hit the enemy:

The enemy receives additional 1d6 piercing damage;

The enemy has to succeed on a Strength saving throw, or be moved by our Swarm up to 15 feet horizontally in any direction;

We can be moved by our Swarm up to 5 feet horizontally in any direction.

We also gain access to Swarmkeeper's Magic feature, which grants us extra spells when reaching specific levels. At the 3rd level, we'd get Faerie Fire but we already know it because of our racial features. So we either forget about it or ask our DM if we could replace it with an extra 1st-level Ranger spell.

We also get another spell: Ensnaring Strike is applied to our ranged attack. On a successful hit, the enemy has to make a Strength saving throw or be restrained up to 1 minute (or until the concentration is broken) by magical thorny vines sprouting from the ground... or perhaps a puddle of extra-sticky honey? While restrained by the spell, suffers 1d6 piercing damage at the beginning of their turn (perhaps some bees hide within the honey and sting them).

Level 4: We get our first Ability Score Improvement! Let's raise our Constitution by 2 points, to get some more Hit Points later on. Survivability is important for the quick and nimble ones.

Level 5: At this level, we get our first subclass upgrade and it's... Extra Attack. We can now attack twice instead of once during a single action. It helps with our target goals, so it's good.

We also gain access to 2nd-level spell slots. Animal Messenger lets you select a critter and charm it to act as your courier for the next 24 hours. You speak a short message (up to 25 words) and describe a target and the creature does its best to deliver your words. I don't need to tell you what kind of creature to use, right?

Your Swarmkeeper's Magic feature also gives you an extra spell: Web fills a 20-foot cube space with sticky webbing. Creatures caught in the web must succeed on a Dexterity saving throw or be restrained. Once again, we flavour web as honey and we're good to go.

Level 6: Our power of Fantasy Racism grows even stronger with Greater Favoured Enemy. We can pick another type of creatures to gain advantages against. This time, we get to choose from aberrations, celestials, constructs, dragons, elementals, fiends, or giants. We once again learn another language, and our bonus damage against both types of Favoured Enemies changes to a +4. Once again, choose whatever suits the campaign best.

Level 7: Time for another subclass upgrade. Writhing Tide lets our Swarm form a pair of wings around us, giving us flying speed of 10 feet for 1 minute. This ability seems a bit pointless, since we have a much better one from our racial background, so I would consider asking the DM if we can apply this for our party members and give them some slow flight instead.

For this level's spell, I think we should get Healing Spirit - we call upon a nature spirit (gee, I wonder what form it would take) to reside in a 5-foot space. If we or our allies movie into that space, or start our turn there, we get 1d6 points of healing. The spirit can heal only 1 + [our spellcasting modifier] number of times and disappears after the final healing. As a bonus action, we can move the spirit up to 30 feet to a space we can see.

Level 8: Another ASI! Let's put one point in Constitution and one in Wisdom.

At this level we also get Fleet of Foot, which lets us use the Dash action as a bonus action.

Level 9: We get access to 3rd-level spells: Conjure Barrage lets us magically multiply a projectile we shot. Each creature in a 60-foot cone must make a Dexterity saving throw or take 3d8 points of damage (half on a successful save), the type of which is the same as the projectile used.

We get another spell from our Swarmkeeper's Magic feature: Gaseous Form transforms us or whoever we touch into a cloud of smoke (or perhaps pollen). While in cloud form:

We have flying speed of 10 feet;

We can occupy another creature's space;

We have advantage on non-magical damage;

We have advantage on Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution saving throws;

We can slip through cracks and narrow openings;

If we're stunned or incapacitated mid-air, we don't fall.

While in this form, we cannot speak, use items, attack, or cast spells.

Level 10: At the midway point we get Hide in Plain Sight, which helps us hide so well we reach Drax levels of invisibility

When we choose to Hide, we can decide to not use any movement on our turn. If we do so, any creature that attempts to detect us receives a -10 to their Perception check until the end of our next turn. As long as we do not move, we can use this feature indefinitely.

Level 11: Another subclass feature! The Mighty Swarm feature gives us more bees than before. The damage dealt by our Swarm increases from d6 to d8; if a target fails their saving throw against being moved by our Swarm, they are also knocked prone; when we are moved by our Swarm, we get the benefit of half-cover until the start of our next turn.

We also get another 3rd-level spell: Protection from Energy gives us, or any creature we touch, resistance to one damage type of choice - acid, cold, fire, lightning, or thunder - for up to 1 hour (or until our concentration is broken).

Level 12: Time for another ASI! Let's raise our Dexterity by two points.

Level 13: We don't get new class features, but we do unlock 4th-level spells; Grasping Vine creates a wiggly plant tendril in a point within 30 feet from you, which can be directed to lash at a target within 30 feet from it. The target has to make a Dexterity saving throw or be pulled 20 feet towards the vine.

We also get another Swarmkeeper spell: Arcane Eye creates an invisible magical beacon that we can use to scout our surroundings for up to 1 hour (or until our concentration is broken). As an action we can move the Eye up to 30 feet without any distance limit; although it cannot enter other planes of existence, or pass through solid barriers, it can enter through an opening even 1 inch wide.

Level 14: We get to put a little extra sneaky to our build with Vanish. This allows us to take the Hide action as a bonus action (which pairs really well with our Hide in Plain Sight).

Level 15: For our final subclass upgrade, we get Swarming Dispersal. When we take damage, we can use a reaction to transform our body into a swarm of bees for the best representation of Naruto's Substitution Jutsu.

We gain resistance to the damage dealt to us and we teleport into an unoccupied space within 30 feet of where we started. We can use this ability the number of times equal to our proficiency bonus and we regain all uses when finishing a long rest.

We get to pick another 4th-level spell: we use Locate Creature to name a creature familiar to us and learn their location as long as they're within 1.000 feet from us. If the creature is moving, we will detect that as long as they don't live that range.

Level 16: We get another ASI! Let's cap our Dexterity with those two extra points.

Level 17: Here we unlock our spellcasting limit - 5th-level spells: Swift Quiver is a bonus action spell that turns our ammo supply into the infinite quiver of Legolas. For 1 minute (or until concentration is broken) on each of our turns, we can take a bonus action to make two additional attacks with ammo from our quiver. Combined with our Extra Attack, this lets us attack one target four times during our turn for 1d6+5 piercing damage.

Level 18: We get a feature called Feral Senses, which helps when fighting invisible enemies; when we attack something we cannot see we no longer get disadvantage on attack rolls. We are also aware of any invisible creatures within 30 feet of us, provided we're not blinded or deafened and the creature isn't using its Hide action.

Level 19: Final ASI of the build. Let's round-up our Wisdom into 18, and with one point to spare we can't do much so allocate it wherever.

We also learn our final spell for the build: Steel Wind Strike lets us do a flourish with our melee weapon, and turn it into an invisible blade of slashiness. Up to five creatures within 30 feet of us have to make a Dexterity saving throw or take 6d10 force damage. Additionally, we can choose to teleport within 5 feet of one of the targets that we hit or miss.

Level 20: For our capstone we get Foe Slayer: once on each of our turns, we can add our Wisdom modifier to the attack roll or the damage roll of an attack we make.

---

Now, let's see what came out from this build for Ah Muzen Cab.

I think we've reached all of our goals. We got our bees, we've got honey-flavour in some abilities, we get extra Movement Speed with Dash as a bonus action... we even get a good Attack Speed with Extra Attack and Swift Quiver.

Our Spell Save DC is 18, AC is 17 if paired with the studded leather armour, and we've on average 164 Hit Points.

Unfortunately, our Intelligence and Charisma scores are pretty low so any checks and saving throws involving those might give us trouble. We are also pretty much range-oriented, with just +1 in Strength.

But that's it! Hopefully you guys enjoyed this ride, and I'll see you for the next one!

Nerdy out!

[sebastianshaw]

@sammysdewysensitiveeyes - And finally, Shinobi for World of Darkness, three different versions/games! Under cut because like always, it’s long!

For a vampire, he’d be a Toreador. They’re the type who will turn someone just because they’re pretty, then get tired of them within the week, and that’s how their ranks get flooded with dilettantes who don’t posses any artistic talent, like Shinobi. Toreador are famous for being the most emotional and passionate and in touch with humanity, but in truth, many are emotionally hollow, chasing fleeting highs of false feelings that are shallow and brief despite their deceptive intensity. This leads them to become callow and callous, trying forever to breath life into themselves through new experiences that become banal all too soon, leaving a trail of broken mortal hearts and lives behind them, to say nothing of fledglings that, like, Shinobi, are pulled into this world they’re not ready for and typically destroyed by soon enough. While many people deride them as romance novel vampires, I think they’re actually a very clever subversion of that, and in their own way as horrifying as more famously frightening ones. Shinobi, bitter and wounded over being rejected and abandoned by his sire, has become exactly that kind of Toreador himself. He also strives to be as seductive and glamorous as other members of the clan, and he has the image down, but it falls apart quickly when others question or reject him. He’s also a very young and weak vampire, so he has no political strings to pull, and since he has no art, is looked down by his clanmates as a poseur. All this just makes him more pathologically driven to prove himself and gather allies who will love and respect him, even as he fails at it every night. Also, the Tories are often called divas and “Degenerates” is literally a nickname for the whole clan, it’s perf. I also think he’d make a good Ghoul. When someone---be it a human, animal, even a fellow vampire---drinks the blood of a vampire three times, they become Blood Bound to them. In the case of animals and humans, this makes them the vampire’s ghoul, and the vampire their domitor or regnant. The blood bond is one of the most powerful tools of vampirekind, as the victim is completely enthralled to them, forced to obey. The ghoul is obsessed with them, usually in love, and will do anything asked of them. Continual drinks reinforce it, and the ghouls WANT this, for vitae---vampire blood--is addictive. And the longer they serve a vampire, the more they’ll need it not just out of addiction, but to survive. Ghouling a human (or animal) will freeze them at their current age, just like a vampire, and even grant them some vampiric powers...but when the blood stops coming, all those years catch up with them...all at once. It’s not pretty. Some ghouls who manage to escape their masters---usually by the latter’s death--become vampire hunters in order to get their vitae fix, drinking from different ones in order to avoid the “three strikes and you’re out” Blood Bond. As for what vampires get from this, ghouls have any number of uses, from daytime bodyguards to managers of mortal affairs, messengers, servants, it goes on. The sad, cursed existence of a Ghoul is in many ways worse than that of a vampire, and with none of the benefits. I could see him either as a group ghoul, perhaps, serving a coterie (small group) of powerful female vampires...but I feel like that’s more his fantasy than anything. The reality is probably that he went looking for his birth father, tracked him down successfully, and got a lot more than he bargained for...but hasn’t aged a day since either. Much like Ghouls serve vampires, Kinfolk serve werebeasts, and out of a very different sense of being bound by blood. Kinfolk are the human and animal relations of a werewolf or other werecreature, and breeding with them yields a higher chance of a Garou offspring (since, remember, the offspring of two Garou is a sterile, deformed metis) A Garou birth will still be rare, and most or all of their children will just be Kinfolk, but maybe the next gen will have a Garou, or the next. Because of this, the Garou (or Bastet, or whatever they may be) maintain close ties with their Kinfolk, watching them like shepherds over their flocks. There’s a dark side though. Their primary role ultimately is breeding stock, and many tribes treat them exactly like that. They’re automatically seen as part of the Garou tribe to which they’re related (or worse, its property) and are thus beholden to its regulations, owing them their loyalty, but get none of the respect and glory that the Garou do in return. They’re "valuable second class citizens" at best. Besides breeding, other roles they take includes childcare (since the werewolves are off battling the Wyrm), financing, politicking, and bureaucratic maneuvering on behalf of the Garou, directly or in their interests, are all examples, but there are dozens more things an individual Kinfolk might to do serve their family. Sebastian would definitely be a Shadow Lord werewolf as described in Fabian’s section, and Shinobi his unfortunate Kinfolk pup. A disappointment twice over, firstly for not being Garou, secondly for not even being the USEFUL kind of Kinfolk. All the tribes have an individual approach to their kin beyond the general basics I just described, and Shadow Lords tend towards the abusive. To quote the canon,  “[Shadow Lord] Kinfolk don't receive much coddling, however. Weaklings and victims don't deserve to breed.” So not only is Shinobi not supposed to be sticking his dick in anything that can get pregnant, he’s supposed to purely serve his father’s interests while also growing up a society where he will NEVER be good enough. Which...look it’s horrible, but you can’t deny it FITS! (Also: While Sebastian def would be a Shadow Lord himself as a werewolf, he also could easily just be a human "target" of one as a mate. To quote canon: "Female Shadow Lords are sometimes drawn away from the flock toward men with power. A ruthless businessman, a brilliant crime lord or even a military dictator may find himself overpowered by a stalking suitor.") Since Shinobi is half-Japanese, he could be a kuei-jin if he was born/raised/died in Japan or a place with a strong Japanese (or other Asian) culture. Now, the kuei-jin are very problematic, White Wolf (the game company that does all this) mashed together a bunch of different Asian cultures together (even “kuei-jin” is a combination of Japanese and Chinese) and appropriated a bunch of terms they used incorrectly (ex: dharma) but I really like them and I’d like it if one day they could go back and fix them like they have with other creations they made that were really problematic at their conception (most all of this shit was made up by white nerds in the 90s) So, kuei-jin are vampires of a sort, but an entirely different sort than the Kindred are, despite some calling them ‘the Kindred of the East’. Firstly, their range has more to do with culture than geography. They populate Asia, but have begun emerging in the West in places like Chinatowns where Asian cultures are prevalent. Which brings us to the second difference---they are not Embraced like Western vampires, they rise from the grave on their own. Something drove them so hard that their souls clawed their way out of Yomi World and back into their bodies...well, usually their bodies, there have been cases where they came back in a DIFFERENT body. The goal of the kuei-jin is to remember what this something was, for they believe it is their purpose, and they must then accomplish it. In order to discover their purpose and fulfill it, they will choose different paths that they think will be best for this. These paths, called Dharmas, are liked clans, but, as I said, can be chosen, and even changed. Shinobi’s Dharma would be the The Dance of the Thrashing Dragon, also known as the Laughing Rainbows. Yes, they all have names like that. Again, white nerds in the 90s. The Thrashing Dragons are the Yang-Aspected paths, they  seek to defy their undead state through frenzied revelry and acts meant to celebrate life (in all its beauty and bloodcurdling savagery both).  These Kuei-jin are as alive as the undead can be, believing  creation is a rainbow – illusory, but too colourful to ignore-- and their ideal is to experience each of those colours as vividly as possible. As a result, Laughing Rainbows shun society's restrictions, are often messy and vulgar, indulging themselves with wild feasts and drunken orgies - celebrations that usually feature living "entertainment," too. In their calmer moments, a Thrashing Dragon can be gentle and compassionate, nurturing life even though they consume it---the kuei-jin are still a type of vampires, and they feed on chi. They can get it from flesh and blood, but, as they get older and more powerful, can suck the pure chi out of the air from a person. But the Thrashing Dragons like to eat their prey raw, and often alive. They’re violent and combative, in addition to  shameless, impulsive, lusty, and having a tendency towards nudity. What’s interesting is that in life, many Thrashing Dragons denied the flesh, and believe they came back due to their repression during life. Some ferociously carnal people do return to finish what they started in life, but most Laughing Rainbows learned to laugh only after they died. So perhaps Shinobi had a sad life that ended prematurely (COUGH DAD COUGH) and now that he’s come back, he’s “living” large at last. Or perhaps he’s one of the ones that was ALWAYS a hedonistic idiot and he was actually brought back as a lesson to live a better life, but he hasn’t learned it yet. Kuei-jin have two souls, the Hun and P’o, and they struggle against the latter. The Hun is  higher, rational half of the soul, akin to  morality, conscience, honor and devotion to duty. The P’o is the evil bestial half of the soul, akin to “the Beast” that Western vampires struggle against. Each person’s P’o takes one of several archetypes, based on which is most likely to tempt a kuei-jin off their path, and Shinobi’s would be The Monkey. The Monkey is  a creature of the moment, its each new pleasure or distraction being the most important thing in the world. The Monkey is capable of concocting elaborate plans to achieve small or momentary goals, but it’s in no way concerned with any overarching mission that the Kuei-jin might have. Indeed, the Monkey seeks, at every turn, to waylay Shinobi from his appointed goal, to divert all of the his attention and energy to lesser, transitory things. So basically it tempts him to be HIMSELF. (As a note, I think the Adversary would translate REALLY well as a P’o for a kuei-jin Haven; India is part of Asia too!) Finally...I might be typecasting him too much by race, but there’s also the kitsune. The kitsune, as one would expect, are the werefoxes of East Asia, mostly found in Japan and China. They are the youngest of the Changing Breeds, and the story goes that when a fox named Bai Mianxi was brought before Gaia (who created all the werecreatures) by Luna (the moon) for playing tricks that created havoc in the world, Gaia’s punishment was that Bai Mianxi be given a duty. Bai Mianxi tried to trick her way out of it, claiming that  Gaia's other children were all adequate enough in their duties and she was not needed. Gaia's wrath at Bai Mianxi's impudence shook her residence, but after soothing words from Luna, Gaia promised the fox that in return for their service, the fox-people would one day become the BEST at something, better than all the other werecreatures were at it, whatever it is. Like all other were-types, the kitsune are born in animal or human form, and the offspring of two Kitsune will be born in hybrid form and be stuck that way until their First Change. Unlike the Western metis of the Garou and many other fera though, these “shinju” as they are called, are NOT sterile or deformed, nor are they looked down upon by other kitsune. But all kitsune, no matter what form they were born in, carry a curse, and that is that when a kitstune is born, at least one of its parents will die. Usually, it is the non-kitsune parent, and there is also a one-in-ten chance that the Kitsune parent may die, either instead of, or along with, their mate. So my thinking is kitsune Shinobi was born in human form in Japan to a kitsune mother, but has a human white dad in America (Sebastian obvy) who despite the great distance still passed away mysteriously at the moment Shinobi drew his first breath. And so Shinobi grew up raised by his mother and her Kinfolk, and he never saw his father and he grew up feeling loved and wanted, and now he is a happy healthy adult werefox who will indeed be the best at something one day! You can see why I wanted this for him ^^

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Mon., Apr., 26, 2021

 Great Monday of Holy Week

April 13/April26

The Priest Martyr Artemon (303)

     The PriestMartyr Artemon was born of Christian parents in Syrian Laodiceia in the first half of the III Century. From the time of his youthful years he dedicated himself to the service of the Church. At 16 years of age the saint was made a reader and in this position he laboured during the course of 12 years. For his zealousness in Divine Services, Sainted-bishop Sisinios ordained him to the dignity of deacon. Saint Artemon did also this service with fervour and diligence for 28 years, after which he was ordained to the priesthood. And in this dignity Saint Artemon served the Church of God for 33 years, preaching the Christian faith amongst pagans. When the emperor Diocletian (284-305) began a fierce persecution against christians, Saint Artemon was already old. The emperor issued an edict, that all christians were to offer sacrifice to idols.

     Saint Sisinios, knowing about the impending arrival in the Laodiceian district of the military-commander Patricius, went together with the priest Artemon into the pagan-temple of the goddess Artemis. There they smashed and burnt the idols.      Afterwards, Saint Sisinios and Saint Artemon gathered the flock into the church and heatedly exhorted the christians to remain firm in the faith and not fear the threats of torturers.      Having arrived in Laodiceia, Patricius made a five-day celebration in honour of the pagan gods, and then went off to the temple of Artemis to offer sacrifice. He learnt who it was that had destroyed the temple, and set off with a detachment of soldiers to the church where the christians were praying. Not yet having gotten in front of the church, Patricius suddenly felt a chill, and afterwards heat, such that it left him hardly alive, and they entered into the first house they found along the way. "The Christians have put a curse on me, and this their God tormenteth me", – he said to those about him. The prayers of Patricius to the idols did not relieve his sufferings. He dispatched a messenger to Saint Sisinios and asked for his help, promising by way of thanks to make a gold statue of the bishop. The Saint answered: "Thy gold keep to thyself, but if thou wishest to be healed, believe in Christ".      Patricius was afraid of dying and he declared that he believed in Christ. Through the prayer of Saint Sisinios the affliction left him. But even a miracle having been worked did not alter the obdurate soul of the pagan. Although he did not touch Saint Sisinios, he however set off to enforce the imperial edict against other christians in the city of Caesarea. Along the way he encountered an old man, for whom there went in pairs six wild donkeys and two deer. This man was the priest Artemon.      To Patricius' query, how he was able to lead after him these wild beasts, Saint Artemon answered, that everything in the world confesses the Name of Christ and with true faith in Christ nothing is impossible.      Patricius learned from the pagans that the old man he met along the way – was the same Artemon, who had destroyed the pagan temple of Artemis. He gave orders to seize him and take him to the city of Caesarea.      Saint Artemon went along with the soldiers without fear, but he ordered the animals to go to Saint Sisinios.      One of the donkeys received the gift of speech from God and told the saint-bishop that he had come from Saint Artemon. The bishop sent him in Caesarea a blessing and prosphora by deacon.      In Caesarea Patricius summoned Saint Artemon to trial and began to try to force him to offer sacrifice in the pagan temple of Asclepios. In this pagan temple there lived many poisonous vipers. The pagan priest never opened up the doors, nor previously carried in the sacrifice to the idol. But Saint Artemon, calling on the Name of Jesus Christ, went into the temple and let out from there the plethora of snakes. The pagans turned in flight, but the saint stopped them and by his breath killed the snakes. One of the pagan priests, Bitalios, believed in Christ and asked Saint Artemon to baptise him.      Patricius thought that Saint Artemon killed the snakes by means of sorcery, and he again started to interrogate and torture him. At this point in time there arrived in Caesarea the donkey which had spoken with Saint Sisinios. The donkey lay down at the feet of the martyr, and afterwards again having received from God the gift of speech, it denounced Patricius, predicting for him an impending death in a boiling cauldron. Patricius was scared, that the miracles done by Saint Artemon would draw still more people to him, and he gave orders to execute him.      The filled an enormous cauldron with boiling tar. Soldiers were needed to throw Saint Artemon therein. But when Patricius rode up on horseback to the kettle, wanting to be sure that the tar was indeed boiling, two Angels in the guise of eagles seized and threw him into the cauldron, but Saint Artemon remained alive. Through the prayer of the saint there issued from the ground a spring of water, in which he baptised the pagan priest Bitalios and many pagans, who had come to believe in Christ. On the following morning Saint Artemon communed the newly-baptised with the Holy Mysteries.      The bishop of Caesarea went to visit with Saint Artemon. He cleared off the place where the martyr suffered, and afterwards was built a church there. Many of the baptised were ordained to the deaconate and priesthood, and Bitalios was made bishop of Palestine. The Priestmartyr Artemon, through a calling by the Divine Voice, went preaching the Gospel into Asia, to the settlement of Bulos. Along the way an Angel appeared to him and transported him openly in view of the villagers. He converted many there to faith in Christ. Pagans seized the saint and beheaded him (+ 303).

St. Martin the Confessor, pope of Rome (655)

"Martin became Pope on July 5th, 649, at the time of a furious quarrel between the Orthodox and the Monothelite heretics. Constans the Second, Heraclius' grandson, was on the throne at the time, and Paul was Patriarch of Constantinople. To restore peace in the Church, the Emperor himself wrote a dogmatic decree, the Typos, which leaned heavily towards heresy. Pope Martin summoned a Council of 105 bishops, at which the Emperor's statement was condemned. At the same time, the Pope wrote a letter to Patriarch Paul, begging him to uphold the purity of the Orthodox faith and to counsel the Emperor to reject the theories of the heretics. This letter infuriated both the Patriarch and the Emperor. The Emperor sent one of his generals, Olympius, to take the Pope to Constantinople in bonds. The general did not dare to bind the Pope with his own hands, but instructed one of his soldiers to kill him with the sword in church. But, when the soldier entered the church with his sword concealed, he was instantly blinded. So, by the providence of God, Martin escaped death. At that time, the Saracens fell upon Sicily, and Olympius went off there, where he died. Then, by the intrigues of the heretic Patriarch Paul, the Emperor sent a second general, Theodore, to bind and take the Pope on the charge that he, the Pope, was in collusion with the Saracens and that he did not reverence the most holy Mother of God. [!!] When the general arrived in Rome and read the accusation against the Pope, he replied that it was a libel; that he had no contact of any sort with the Saracens, the opponents of Christianity, 'and whoever does not confess the most holy Mother of God and do her reverence, let him be damned in this age and in that which is to come.' But this did not affect the general's decision. The Pope was bound and taken to Constantinople, where he lay long in prison in great sickness, tortured by both anxiety and hunger,until he was finally sentenced to exile in Cherson, where he lived for two years before his death. He gave his soul into the hands of the Lord, for whom he had suffered so greatly, in 655. The evil Patriarch, Paul, died two years before him and, when the Emperor visited him on his deathbed, he smote his head against the wall, confessing with tears that he had greatly sinned against Pope Martin and asking the Emperor to set Martin free.'

(Prologue)All texts© 1996-2001 by translator Fr. S. Janos.

Matthew 21:18-43

18 Now in the morning, as He returned to the city, He was hungry. 19 And seeing a fig tree by the road, He came to it and found nothing on it but leaves, and said to it, "Let no fruit grow on you ever again." Immediately the fig tree withered away.20 And when the disciples saw it, they marveled, saying, "How did the fig tree wither away so soon?" 21 So Jesus answered and said to them, "Assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith and do not doubt, you will not only do what was done to the fig tree, but also if you say to this mountain, 'Be removed and be cast into the sea,' it will be done.22 And whatever things you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive.23 Now when He came into the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people confronted Him as He was teaching, and said, "By what authority are You doing these things? And who gave You this authority?"24 But Jesus answered and said to them, "I also will ask you one thing, which if you tell Me, I likewise will tell you by what authority I do these things:25 The baptism of John-where was it from? From heaven or from men? And they reasoned among themselves, saying, "If we say, 'From heaven,' He will say to us, 'Why then did you not believe him?'26 But if we say, 'From men,' we fear the multitude, for all count John as a prophet.27So they answered Jesus and said, "We do not know." And He said to them, "Neither will I tell you by what authority I do these things.28 But what do you think? A man had two sons, and he came to the first and said, 'Son, go, work today in my vineyard.'29 He answered and said, 'I will not,' but afterward he regretted it and went.30 Then he came to the second and said likewise. And he answered and said, 'I go, sir,' but he did not go.31 Which of the two did the will of his father? They said to Him, "The first." Jesus said to them, "Assuredly, I say to you that tax collectors and harlots enter the kingdom of God before you.32 For John came to you in the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him; but tax collectors and harlots believed him; and when you saw it, you did not afterward relent and believe him.33 Hear another parable: There was a certain landowner who planted a vineyard and set a hedge around it, dug a winepress in it and built a tower. And he leased it to vinedressers and went into a far country.34 Now when vintage-time drew near, he sent his servants to the vinedressers, that they might receive its fruit.35 And the vinedressers took his servants, beat one, killed one, and stoned another.36 Again he sent other servants, more than the first, and they did likewise to them.37 Then last of all he sent his son to them, saying, 'They will respect my son.'38 But when the vinedressers saw the son, they said among themselves, 'This is the heir. Come, let us kill him and seize his inheritance.'39 So they took him and cast him out of the vineyard and killed him.40 Therefore, when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those vinedressers? 41 They said to Him, "He will destroy those wicked men miserably, and lease his vineyard to other vinedressers who will render to him the fruits in their seasons."42 Jesus said to them, "Have you never read in the Scriptures: 'The stone which the builders rejected Has become the chief cornerstone. This was the LORD's doing, And it is marvelous in our eyes'?43 Therefore I say to you, the kingdom of God will be taken from you and given to a nation bearing the fruits of it.

Matthew 24:3-35 

3 Now as He sat on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to Him privately, saying, "Tell us, when will these things be? And what will be the sign of Your coming, and of the end of the age?" 4 And Jesus answered and said to them: "Take heed that no one deceives you. 5 For many will come in My name, saying, 'I am the Christ,' and will deceive many. 6 And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not troubled; for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. 7 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. And there will be famines, pestilences, and earthquakes in various places. 8 All these are the beginning of sorrows. 9 Then they will deliver you up to tribulation and kill you, and you will be hated by all nations for My name's sake. 10 And then many will be offended, will betray one another, and will hate one another. 11 Then many false prophets will rise up and deceive many. 12 And because lawlessness will abound, the love of many will grow cold. 13 But he who endures to the end shall be saved. 14 And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in all the world as a witness to all the nations, and then the end will come.15 Therefore when you see the 'abomination of desolation,' spoken of by Daniel the prophet, standing in the holy place (whoever reads, let him understand), 16 then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains. 17 Let him who is on the housetop not go down to take anything out of his house.18 And let him who is in the field not go back to get his clothes.19 But woe to those who are pregnant and to those who are nursing babies in those days! 20 And pray that your flight may not be in winter or on the Sabbath.21 For then there will be great tribulation, such as has not been since from the beginning of the world until this time, no, nor ever shall be. 22 And unless those days were shortened, no flesh would be saved; but for the elect's sake those days will be shortened. 23 Then if anyone says to you, 'Look, here is the Christ!' or 'There!' do not believe it. 24 For false christs and false prophets will rise and show great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect. 25 See, I have told you beforehand. 26 Therefore if they say to you, 'Look, He is in the desert!' do not go out; or 'Look, He is in the inner rooms!' do not believe it. 27 For as the lightning comes from the east and flashes to the west, so also will the coming of the Son of Man be. 28 For wherever the carcass is, there the eagles will be gathered together. 29 Immediately after the tribulation of those days the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light; the stars will fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens will be shaken. 30 Then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. 31 And He will send His angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and they will gather together His elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other. 32 Now learn this parable from the fig tree: When its branch has already become tender and puts forth leaves, you know that summer is near.33 So you also, when you see all these things, know that it is near-at the doors! 34 Assuredly, I say to you, this generation will by no means pass away till all these things take place. 35 Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will by no means pass away.

[uhxrp]

wolves

I. OVERVIEW

therians gifted with the form of a wolf are known as wolf therians, werewolves, or, more commonly, just wolves. they have the ability to turn into wolves of slightly abnormal size, and with it many other abilities to go alongside this form.

wolves are known for having a pack mentality, of sticking close to one another and more easily clumping together. they are almost always social beings due to their wolf forms, though this can be limited strictly to their packs. for them, a "lone wolf" is less a rugged individualist, uncompromising and independent trying to forge their own path and more a wolf in search of something, typically other wolves that fit to their own ideals and ideologies. wolves form deeply emotional bonds and are known for being collaborative and communicative - though, again, this can often be limited strictly to their packs.

II. GOVERNANCE

therians typically govern themselves the same way their animals forms would. wolves have a hierarchy consisting of different positions within each pack, much like their wolf counterparts. this includes leaders called alphas, second-in-commands called betas, messengers known as deltas, guardians known as epsilons, and much more. a full list of positions within packs will be available on site once we open.

III. ALLIANCES

therians have a connection to those who also know what it's like to walk in another form, to have feet in two worlds.

shifters shifters and therians are branches of similar species and as such when it comes to their hatred against vampires, they can ally with one another. however, this is only under dire circumstances as normally the two species hate one another.

familiars familiars and therians both have animal forms, something that breeds a sense of understanding between the two.

merfolk merfolk and therians both can communicate with their respective animals and have two separate forms, something that breeds a sense of understanding between the two.

IV. FOES

therians have natural foes in any who stand against them, as they are typically fiercely protective and have enhanced survival instincts naturally.

shifters as the cursed version of shifters, therians are seen as lesser than. as such, therians rightfully take offense to this and the two species have been at odds since therians were created.

vampires for as long as anyone knows, vampires and shifters have been at war. one being around the other has always made them both uncomfortable, as if their very being is at war with the other. when therians were cursed and their species created from that of shifters, this behavior stayed as well.

V. PHYSIOLOGY

BEGINNER

- THERIAN PHYSIOLOGY therian physiology gives them enhanced features, such as strength, durability, speed, agility, etc, as well as allows them to transform into their therian form, a dire beast version of their animal spirit, something that occurs with the lunar cycle due to their curse. this also allows a therian to convert another being into a therian. therians can not turn to and from their animal form at will until mastering this at a higher level and they must transform under periods of extreme mental or physical stress, such as illness or exhaustion. additionally, they can sense directions like a compass, knowing where a specific direction is.

- REGENERATIVE HEALING this ability allows a therian to heal in half the time it might take a human. minor wounds such as cuts, bruises and light burns heal faster than normal and therians are easily able to recover from minor to moderate blood loss. critical wounds such as lost limbs, damaged nerves, and internal organs cannot be regenerated, as wounds would simply close up faster and lost organs remain lost, and cells that are fatally damaged, such as by burning, cannot be regenerated, resulting in permanent scarring.

- MIND LINK RECEPTION this is the power to link minds with other living being, sharing thoughts, memories, emotions or feelings. this is a pack or therian family connection. at this level, the therian is receptive of the mind link created by others within their pack if allowed but they cannot create that link on their own until a higher level.

NOVICE

- CANINE PHYSIOLOGY this power creates a link between the wolf therian and canines, such as wolves, foxes, jackals, coyotes, and domestic dogs. this can be used to calm these animals, to handle these animals, and can call these animals to them, something that can be scary when first encountered. it does not, however, allow the user to communicate with these animals.

- ENHANCED SMELL this power allows the therian to detect specific persons, objects, substances or even places, locate their origin, and track targets with nothing but their nose.

- TEMPERATURE REGULATION wolf therians have the power to maintain a certain body temperature for extended periods of time, allowing them to stay cool when in hot temperatures and warm in cold temperatures to a point.

- ENHANCED ROAR therians with this ability are able to shout so loud that the user can blow away objects or break objects with their ferocious vocal cords, if at an expert level and using this ability. this is most commonly used to alert someone of the user's location. for wolf therians, the roar comes in the form of a howl.

COMPETENT

- PREDATOR INSTINCT the user possesses predatory instincts, allowing them to become masters of hunting and tracking. one with this ability can discern numerous factors of a situation that make them a master of pursuit and capture, just like their animal spirit.

- FERAL MIND user can tap into primal, unstoppable rage that allows them to perform in vastly increased capacity, taking and inflicting damage that they wouldn't in their normal state. in some cases, the user's mind descends so far into the feral rage that, mentally, they are little more than animals. typically, this is saved for rare occasions when it is life or death.

PROFICIENT

- ENHANCED BITE the user has particularly strong bite, because of sharp teeth and strong jaw-muscles. their bite is like that of a wolf, easily piercing and tearing flesh and typically causing harm the same way their animal form would. this is especially powerful if when in animal form. they can also use this bite to infect others and turn them into therian, something also specifically powerful while in their animal form.

- MIND LINK CREATION this is the power to link minds with other living being, sharing thoughts, memories, emotions or feelings. this is a pack or therian family connection. at this level, the therian is can create a link on their own with any and all members of their pack that are receptive, including one on one conversations.

EXPERT

- PARTIAL TRANSFORMATION the user can partially transform their body, either by transforming certain parts of their body independently of the rest of it or into a "half-state" between two forms. in the case of therians, this is largely due to increased control over the transformation as well as having experience to get used to the pain that goes with their transformations.

- CONTROLLED TRANSFORMATION at this level a therian can control their transformation, regardless of emotions or nearness to the full moon. therians still need to transform with the full moon but can now transform at will in the time between and can keep from transforming when of high emotion.

VI. WEAKNESSES

therians are harder to kill than humans, but not as hard as the vampires. each have their own weaknesses and advantages, but all are supernatural and gifted in the power to transform, something that can make them dangerous opponents against any who do not suspect their true species. the reality of silver's effect on shifters and therians has been lost to the pages of history, but for generations, packs have passed down similar stories. it goes that judas, the follower of jesus of nazareth, was turned into a shifter in retribution to the lord's suffering. as penitence for betraying the son of man judas' bloodline was cursed with a dire weakness to silver, the very element for which he betrayed jesus, and those very same bloodlines are what make up the earth's modern population of both shifters and therians.

it is known that silver is a lethal conductor of the magic that turns one away from their human form, but the siphoning of said magic is extremely painful, so much so that it has been known to bring the even the strongest of either species to a crashing halt irrespective of age or ability. while brief exposure is painful enough to momentarily cripple an opponent, if silver were to enter their bloodstream they would experience the sensation of being set ablaze. as their body temperature rose, the heat they give off would be enough to boil their main organs, until eventually, they would be met with death.

(note: we would like to note that we do allow the use of creative weaknesses in play, such as a witch and human coming up with their own decision on how their abilities counteract one another, but we urge you to remember that we are trusting you to keep this balanced and fair. as such, the weaknesses we list will be minimal but are by and far not a full list of possible weaknesses. should we notice a character who seems too powerful, you will be asked to bump that character back down or be denied continued play here on unholy for the sake of creative freedom for all members. this includes the knowledge of the strengths and weaknesses of the species that your character would have here on unholy.)

[ducktracy]

161. ain’t we got fun (1937)

release date: may 1st, 1937

series: merrie melodies

director: tex avery

starring: mel blanc (cat, old man, elevator operator), billy bletcher (mobster mouse), berneice hansell (mice), tommy bond (taunting mouse)

the last cartoon we saw, which was another tex cartoon, was the behemoth porky’s duck hunt, which revolutionized the fate of looney tunes. pretty big shoes to fill after the fact! unfortunately, the shoes aren’t filled all the way. nevertheless, we’ll explore why. as the old saying goes, when the cat’s away, the mice will play (which is coincidentally the title of a 1938 tex cartoon as well!)

the opening shot is a homely multiplane pan across a sleepy, snowy landscape at night, underscored by a comfortable piano accompaniment. hone in on one house in particular, where a cat lounges in an armchair, positioned right in front of a roaring fire. another long pan across the household, where we meet our antagonist.

though this is a blue ribbon reissue, thus covering the credits, chuck jones and bob clampett get the animation credit for this one. chuck jones’ work is noticeable right away as we spot his animation of the old man, shuffling along the vicinity of the house, the newspaper in his fist shaking from the old man’s tremor. “yeah, there’s nothing like a good ol’ easy chair when a body’s tired.” 

our old man displays his endearing, warm-hearted charm as he approaches his cat, abusing it by smacking the cat repeatedly with the newspaper, ordering the cat to “git!” the poor cat settles on a rug for comfort instead, nestling down for the night. then, tex displays some succinct timing as a book is thrown out of nowhere, konking the cat right on the noggin. 

perhaps the only one who enjoys the cat’s suffering more than the old man is a mouse tucked away in the safety of its mouse hole, peering into the living room with glee as it tinkers around slyly. carl stalling’s accompaniment in conjunction with the mouse’s furtive footsteps create a combination that we would be seeing in many a cartoon, but primarily in friz freleng’s cartoons (the ever sly genius sylvester comes to mind). with the cat asleep, the mouse boldly takes a few strides outside its territory, waving its little paw in front of the closed eyes of the beast. no reaction. the mouse skirts back to the hole, not taking any chances. now sure that the cat is out like a light, the mouse gleefully grabs a paper and pencil and scrawls “the cat’s asleep”, fashioning the message into a paper airplane.

quite an impressive shot as the mouse tosses the airplane inside the mouse hole. we’re met with an elaborate vertical pan, showcasing the structure and inter-workings of the household. one mouse catches hold of the plane at the other end, opening it up. his mouse buddies crowd around to read the message. can it be? berneice hansell’s giggles overlap the underscore of the title song as a slew of mice stream into the mouse hole tunnel, arriving to the lookout mouse. the eager chattering ceases as the guard mouse shushes the crowd, indicating for everyone to move in slowly. 

tex experiments with shadows quite a bit in this cartoon, spicing up an otherwise slightly tedious routine. the mice creep along the walls, their shadows dramatically enhancing the risk they’re all taking by being out. a clever avery-ism as a cuckoo clock chimes, threatening to blow the cover of the mice. the mice shush the cuckoo bird, and the bird, understanding, pulls out a clock of its own and showcases the time around to the invisible crowd.

freleng-esque trepid footsteps in conjunction with a minor key arrangement of “ain’t we got fun” transforms into another avery-ism as the mice suddenly whoosh past the sleeping cat. the cat wakes up, shivering from the draft left behind, and closes the open window, returning to its slumber.

now, the mice are free to roam and play as they please. the swarm all pack into a collection of mousehole elevators, an elevator operator ushering them in. in the elevator, they make various stops in the pantry to gorge on some foods. “first shelf: cheese, bananas, groceries, and jams. second shelf: candies, donuts, breads and pies. third shelf: things and stuff.” a relatively mild gag, moreso cute than funny. nevertheless, the gag redeems itself with a kick: all that’s left in the elevator is a polite, elderly woman and the operator. a bit of gallows humor as the granny inquires “could you tell me where i can find the mousetraps, please?” the operator is rightfully horrified.

the mice gorge themselves silly. one mouse chews his way through a loaf of bread, marching along with his gigantic belly. one of the more clever gags involves a gang of mice playing pool, a slice of bread as the tables, peas as the balls, and the open mouths of the mice as the pockets. one spare pea is left, and a mouse “breaks character” to slide over and catch it in his mouth. a mouse narrowly avoids being decapitated as it eats a line of cheeses from a row of mousetraps, another mouse attempts to uncork a bottle with his tail and ends up getting stuck in another bottle, one mouse indulges on a hearty helping of salami, and so on. all while this is happening, billy bletcher lends his voice to a mobster mouse warning one of his companions. “ and if the cat comes, give us a whistle like this--” he demonstrates, and his confidant nods.

raucous laughter inevitably wakes the cat from its slumber. the guard mouse takes notice, but at the worst time: just seconds before, he had been stuffing his mouth with crackers (the box, labeled WENEEDA CRACKERS, is a take on the old brand uneeda biscuit). the mouse attempts to whistle, but his efforts are in vain. whistling with crackers in the mouth, impossible. tex would reuse this gag in one of his last WB entries, the cagey canary, down to the whistler’s face growing red. 

someone cries “the cat!”, and the gang of mice carving a turkey disperse just in time for the cat to shove its body through the turkey, narrowly avoiding its targets. now furious, the cat/turkey hybrid bounds through the kitchen in all of its ridiculous glory. just as it attempts to dive through an open mousehole, the doors of the hole shut the cat out, sparking a daze. an animator switch later (bob clampett maybe?), the mice retreat into their now open hole, throwing various food items in the grasp of the cat to frame him.

more chuck jones animation as the old man wakes up, finding his dirty, no good kitten sitting in the kitchen with a turkey for a body, candy cane in mouth, balancing a pile of food items. the kitchen is a total wreck. the old man chastises the cat--there’s a neat angle as all we see is his gangly, wrinkled, almost threatening finger jabbing at the cat, talking about how this is the last straw. the poses of the cat are lovely, from stan laurel whimpering to dubious shrugs. staging here could be comparable to the early sylvester and tweety cartoons, which are quite tom and jerry in nature (tweety pie comes to mind).

with that, the old man picks up the innocent kitty by the scruff of his neck, removing the cat from the turkey and kicking it outside into the snow. another avery-ism as the old man yells out the door “give ya a home and what do ya do? you eat it! now GIT!” a slam of the door in finality... or not. like in i love to singa, the old man throws the door open to blow a raspberry at the cat. the cat retaliates with a raspberry of his own. 

a clever dissolve as we fade away from the cat parking its butt in the snow to the old man parking his butt in his armchair, complaining about how that old pussycat’s always in his chair. tex is a man of eloquent syntax as he displays with the old man’s rant of “good for nothin’ lazy old cat old cat lazy good for nothin’ old lazy cat.”

back to the mice, the guard mouse from before writing a new paper airplane message, this time with a bigger announcement: the cat’s gone. as the eager mice mow down the messenger as they scramble out of the hole, we finally segue into the eponymous number, “ain’t we got fun”. 

definitely a highlight of the cartoon. the song itself is a classic, used since the bosko days of warner bros cartoons (honey sings it as she and a begrudging bosko wash dishes together in bosko’s mechanical man). lyrics are of course outfitted to the plot of the cartoon. the song is happy, peppy, with a nice jive. a nice opening pan of the mice playing makeshift instruments (like a pipe as a saxophoe). i believe the majority of the animation is bob clampett’s handiwork, that or virgil ross. tex experiments more with his shadows as we watch the singers dance and sing the song, shadows growing bigger and smaller and creating quite the theatrical effect. albeit brief, this is certainly one of my favorite song numbers we’ve seen thus far, in terms of song AND animation, and it definitely constitutes a watch. 

now, the kitchen is a rowdy, hectic zone, so loud that the old man is woken up from his slumber. he ambles into the war zone, and is promptly pelted by various grocery items upon arrival. intriguing camera shots for sure, especially the overall layout of the kitchen. the scene is reminiscent of the merrie melodies of 1934-1935, primarily how do i know it’s sunday, where weaponizing groceries saves the day in that cartoon. interesting to note, bits of the music cue are reused from the fella with the fiddle when the mouse scrambles to disguise his home, but it’s not from the same recording. 

the old man scrambles outside to safety, where he meets his kitty “friend” he kicked out. any notions of contempt and disgust are dropped from the old man as he attempts to coax his cat back into friendliness, hoping the cat will kill the mice. however, the cat’s having none of it, shaking his head and crossing his arms in defiance. great posing--definitely very avery. now, a few of the mice have congregated at the feet of the old man to witness the drama. one of the mice (who sounds suspiciously like tommy bond) remarks “see? the old cat’s not coming back!”

with that, the mice pour gas on the fire to spark some drama, taunting “YOU ARE A ‘FRAIDY CAT! YOU ARE A ‘FRAIDY CAT!” to the cat. the cat, visibly angered, zooms inside, barreling the old man over as it attacks the schoolchildren. the other mice aren’t too thrilled with the arrival of the cat, the guard mouse hurriedly tweeting on a whistle to signal the danger that approaches. various mice yell “the cat!” (including a very tiny mouse with a super high pitched squeak, a gag from the bosko days) the cat corrals the mice into their hole, and marches away proudly, tail in the air in triumph. 

mice now gone, streaming out of the exposed cellar doors and into the cold night, the cat settles down in the old man’s armchair after a night of hard work. we end just where we started, the old man ambling to the chair, remarking “yeah, there’s nothing like a good ol’ easy chair when a body’s tired.” he notices the cat in his spot and raises his newspaper, preparing to strike, when he halts. in a change of heart, we get this lovely, hilarious, and absurd visual of the old man crawling on the rug, circling around in the manner of a cat and cozying up, complete with a blank stare of heavy realization that this is his new norm. he pops his head out to tell the audience “i ain’t such a mean old man after all, am i?” an offscreen book answers his question as it knocks him right on the head. iris out.

this is an interesting case. while the cartoon had moments of pure avery-isms, this feels more like a friz freleng cartoon from 1934 or 1935 than a 1937 tex cartoon. the structure, look, and feel all seem very freleng-esque, but even then towards the more milder freleng entries. with that said, it’s not a bad cartoon. it had some wonderful moments: the title number is such a wonderful mood raiser, and gags such as the gallows humor of the old woman asking where the mousetraps were and the end with the old man curling up on the rug were great. but for a tex avery cartoon, this is a weaker entry on his part. i suppose half of it is because his previous cartoon is one of the most influential cartoons to exist, and coming down from that high isn’t very easy. it just doesn’t quite feel like a tex avery cartoon. the cat is the one with the most avery influence, whereas the mice look straight out of a freleng cartoon or even a frank tashlin cartoon with those big, pie cut eyes. nevertheless, it’s a mildly entertaining cartoon that isn’t bad, but i would hardly call it a masterpiece. i’ll post (or have posted) the main highlights of the cartoon, so i suppose there’s no raging need to go out and watch this one. with that said, of course, watch it by all means if you want. 

link!

[medievalfangirl]

Mortals - Part I

Notes: Written for @tephi101 800 follower challenge. A massive congratulations love, your followers are a testament to your writing talent and sweet soul 💖 So now I have three WIPs - is this how I die? 

Prompt: Supernatural - Hellhound 

Summary: After a life spent dancing with death’s messenger, Halfdan is still the most fascinating thing Ylva has ever seen. 

Warnings: mentions of death, mild violence 

Words: 2891

Pairing: Halfdan the Black x OC

Ylva first saw the Helhound on a frigid winter day, nestled between her tenth autumn and eleventh spring. It had black fur, as dark as a night of wretched deeds and buried secrets. Thin lips were rolled back to form a snarling mouth, thick drool oozing over glistening teeth. It’s claws shone in defiance of the deep grey clouds that hid the sun. Yet it was the eyes of the animal that firmly named it a beast. They were blood red, and shone with the malice of another world. Those eyes were the place hope travelled to die. To look into them for too long was to know the most primal of dread, the birth of terror. A feeling that crept into your soul and blackened it beyond salvation. For less than a heartbeat she’d stared, frozen, looking deep into the chasms that led to Hel. Her own strangled scream had torn the moment in half.  

As she grew, encounters with the creature became a part of Ylva’s life. It was death given teeth, a sight no mortal should bear witness to. But she did. And each visit pushed her further towards a great precipice, terror and hopelessness gripping her heart like a vice, squeezing her tighter each time she saw it, threatening to tip her over the edge when her fear finally drove her to madness. 

She learnt it’s deadly dance, how it would appear on the edge of town and wait in the shadows. There in the darkness it chose it’s victim, stalked their steps and slept under their bed. No one survived once marked, and no one save Ylva could see it. When a stumble in the street had brushed her hand against another's, a woman recently marked by the beast, visions of the woman’s death had knocked Ylva to her knees. She understood then: the hound did not deal death - it warned of it. The lady had fallen through the ice while fishing the lake and the naive girl had tried to save her. She’d almost drowned in the attempt. Whether they met their end by sword, sickness or other means, those poor souls were caught in the clutches of fate. She couldn’t free them. She was just a woman - cursed with knowledge and bound to watch.

Word of her talents soon spread, and naturally, the great shield-maiden Lagertha wanted to benefit from this asset living in her kingdom. So the girl, now a young woman, had trained to be merciless with her shield and axes. Despite years of visits from death’s messenger, she kept it’s darkness at bay. She learnt to wield her curse like a weapon: regaling Lagertha with every glimpse, anything she saw in the blurred backdrop behind the premature demises. Anything that could sway the future in their favour. While that one death was set the rest was fluid, and sometimes, others could be warned of the circumstances, such as a sinking ship or burning home. Just as the bite of her axe helped her fell foes in battle, this weapon too helped her defend herself against her greatest enemy: her own fear. Using the visions gave her a semblance of control over the madness that thing had brought into her life. 

Yesterday she had seen the hound, blending with the shadows that hugged the docks. She could feel its anticipation to mark someone. And death was coming, there was no doubt of that. Lagertha had killed Aslaug and taken Kattegat back, but for long would she hold it? Her enemies were poised and waiting. The coming war would pit viking against viking, brother against brother. The sons of Ragnar were divided. King Harald and his brother Halfdan too found themselves on opposite sides of the gulf. Halfdan and Bjorn had returned from the Mediterranean, and a roaring feast in their honour was the root of Ylva’s drinking that night. 

Halfdan the Black was enough to pull her from her own contemplations. His presence made no sense. She simply couldn’t reconcile her memory of him with his choice to oppose his brother. 

He may have been the lighter brother in appearance but he was the darker in nature. He was a more reserved man than his brother, never one to waste words with flamboyancy. A maker of cool observations, alertness than verged on caution when around a potential threat - which he saw everywhere. For his cool manner off of the battlefield, when he fought he was wreathed in flame. As ruthless as any Viking, there was something vicious about him when he killed, something unhinged. As if he relished the chance to shake off all and any humanity. The only person she’d even seen him show any affection for was Harald. Watching them fight side by side during the Second Siege of Paris, their sibling bond looked unbreakable. Both men seemed to love sparingly, and with great intensity. And now they were ready to stare each other down across a field of blood, ready to end each other’s lives?

The man talking with Lagertha was one of two things. A different man to the one Ylva remembered, or a traitor. Curiosity piqued, concern building, she was determined to find out which. Letting ale flow across the floor like tributaries into a great lake she watched, waiting until Halfdan had drank enough to relax. Or relax as much as he seemed able to.

Only when his posture held less rigidity, one arm propped on the back of his chair, did Ylva approach. Two drinks in hand, she took the seat opposite and offered one to him. The warrior hesitated before he took the ale, watching her over it’s rim as he drank. Sharp eyes studied her from behind a tousled forelock. 

Slowly he lowered the horn, still observing her with an intensity that neared unnerving. “I know you.” 

“I fought during the Second Siege of Paris.”

Recognition dawned across his face. “You are Lagertha’s seer?”

“I am the woman you remember, yes. But I am no seer.” 

Halfdan frowned, mouth forming a straight line. “You knew what would happen that day. You warned the French had a fleet strong enough to challenge us.”

He remembered the day’s bitter loss well. But he didn’t know her, and like everyone else, he was quick to assume and slow to accept he was wrong. 

“Foresight is not limited to seers.”

“Then what are you?” 

Using the arm still draped across his chair, he pushed himself upright with the fluid grace of a cat. Ylva pulled her auburn braid over her shoulder. Fiddling with the end, she answered with a nonchalant tip of her head. 

“A mystery.”

“Tell me.” Halfdan’s eyes flashed. This man may have moved like a feline, but he was no tamed house creature. Something wild simmered beneath the surface. “I am a curious man.” 

“Your curiosity will fade,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. 

“No it will not. And I have far less patience,.” 

As he spoke he grabbed the wrist she swung between them, long fingers curling around the joint. His grip was unyielding, not painful but too tight for comfort. Ylva wasn’t stupid. She heard the warning in the harder edge his already raspy voice had taken. Bright blue eyes flickering across his face, she saw it too in the firm set of his features. 

Quite unintentionally, she had caught this man’s interest. A man who was accustomed to having whatever he wanted. A man who never heard ‘no’, and when he did, likely took matters into his own hands to change that answer. That had not been part of her plan to find out his true motives for being in Kattegat. But perhaps she could use it? She could tend that spark of curiosity; make him yearn for her truth enough to tell her a little something in exchange. 

Slowly she spoke, choosing her words carefully. Halfdan the Black was not a man she wanted to push too far. Danger glittered in blue depths behind a messy shock of blonde. And that danger’s hand currently had a rigid hold around her pulse-point.  

“I have never told Lagertha, and I have fought for her for many years. As for you, Halfdan, I do not even know if I can trust where your loyalties lie.” 

For a moment he neither moved nor spoke, some emotion flickering too briefly across his face to be named. She’d tried to toe the line between inciting his curiosity and his ire - perhaps she’d fallen to the wrong side? 

“I will fight for Bjorn,” he responded at last. 

Ylva watched him steadily, working to keep the relief from showing across her face. She sensed her fear was a weakness he would use. Tilting her chin up, she asked, “will you? Convince me.”

“I owe your leader an explanation. Not you, seer.”

The pressure on her wrist increased enough to set off a dull throb beneath his fingers. 

“And I owe one to no one,” she snapped, eyes narrowing into a glare. A fierceness slipped into her voice, a far cry from the careful cool she had maintained so far. “My name is Ylva, you will use it.”

He’d poked a raw nerve one too many times. 

Seers could cast their mind’s eye forward and read the words of the world that hadn’t yet been written. Their gift showed them both good and ill. Her curse showed her naught but doomed souls whose destiny was already written in blood. The guilt of watching friends die not once but twice had festered in her, and soon she’d found herself stood at the edge of that great cliff. The one she’d felt the hound pushing her towards since the very first sighting. It had been a simple choice - harden her heart, or fall, and break. 

So when she declared she wasn’t a seer, she meant it. She was a woman who predicted death without feeling. A woman who wasn’t sure she had any soul left. 

“Are you threatening me?” 

A sharp tug on the limb he still held brought her hurtling back to the present. Her stomach smacked into the table rim, her upper body tilting precariously, following the path of her outstretched arm. And Ylva had thought he’d felt menacing before. She would have laughed at her naivety if the situation wasn’t so serious. 

Head tilted, lips twisted into a dark smirk, Halfdan’s expression was amused disbelief. He was watching her like she was prey. Entertained in the way a wolf would be, to see a rabbit show defiance. Oh, what a deadly game she had started by drawing him into conversation. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest, icy cold trickling down her spine. He was no doubt armed, and strong enough that she could not free herself. If the mood took him he could kill her then and there. And yet, hemmed in by his intoxicating presence, she had never felt more alive. He had a hypnotic allure that set her body humming. The lethal mix of icy calm and fiery peril that seemed to wage a war in his eyes called to her. It was enough that she hesitated, considering the risk of pushing him further, just to see what he would do. Her self-preservation instincts, however, would not allow her to quench that thirst to know. 

Swallowing her pride, she shook her head. “No. I’m asking you.” 

“I name you as I see you.” 

The warrior sought an explanation - he wanted her to lay her secrets out for him, and was unaccustomed to people denying him. But he had given her nothing. He hadn’t budged an inch - and neither would she.

“And you have given me no reason to trust you with the knowledge you want.” 

The close quartered-quiet wasn’t ideal for the shield-maiden. She could not deny her attraction to the man when she was close enough to count the lashes on one eye. Lithe and tall, though not enough to tower over her as Bjorn did, his body didn’t flaunt his strength. But she had seen him hack men to pieces. She knew the power that shifted beneath his skin. His unkempt blonde hair gave him a feral look his nature did nothing to negate. This was the first time she’d been close enough to study his eyes. She found intertwining brown hues, like mighty dragons fighting in the sky. As with every part of him, body and beyond, they were captivating. 

In silence they sat, pinning each other under stubborn glares. Their obstinate dispositions had brought them to a stalemate. Each wanted to draw the information they craved from the other, without divulging anything about themselves. All Ylva’s attempts to manipulate the situation had failed. They’d spoken about her more than she’d like - Halfdan kept spinning the conversation until she was the one answering questions. Her approach had been all wrong, and had set him on the defensive. 

Dropping all pretense and veiling from her voice, she spoke plainly. “I am sorry for talking in riddles, and implying you are not to be trusted. I saw you fight at Harald’s side in Paris. I simply find it difficult to understand why you are not by his side still.” 

The warrior considered her for so long she feared he would keep her in his bruising grip indefinitely, and say nothing. But he didn’t. He released her, and the feeling rushed back into her hand like water from behind a broken dam. She eased herself back into her seat, body stiff, waiting in earnest for his answer. 

“Bjorn saved my life.” 

She’d overheard him say as much to Lagertha - she wanted more. Drawing details he didn’t want to give was like drawing blood from a stone. 

“Surely you and your brother have saved each other many times over?” 

Taking a sip of his neglected ale, he shrugged enigmatically. He held the answer over her like a bone over a dog. But his reticence begged the question: what could possibly have happened in the Mediterranean between Bjorn and Halfdan?

“I overheard you telling Lagertha about the Mediterranean. Would you tell me something?” 

Halfdan drained his horn before replying, contemplating his words.  “A wanderer named Sinric was our guide. He may have been a God, walking among men.” 

“That…” Ylva trailed off, eyes wide.. Of all the things she’d thought he would say, that was not one of them. “I hardly have the words. What made you think him a God?” 

“He has this way of appearing somewhere, without seeming to travel there. And he is always at home, wherever he is.”

“That is incredible! To be in the presence of a God… I cannot imagine it. Did he share in your adventures?”

“You could call it that,” he shook his head ruefully. “He was nearly executed alongside Bjorn and I.”   

“Executed?” Ylva echoed, enthralled. 

“By an Arab, on plains of sand that stretched as far as the eye could see.” 

When speaking about his travels he was lighter. The heavy tone, laced with warnings and implications was replaced by something natural. His eyes captured wonder, an appreciation for what the world could hold, beyond his desire to take it. A brief smile tugged at his lips, and Ylva swallowed hard, taken aback by how it transformed his face. Even his posture was different, some of the tension draining from his shoulders. 

“I would like to see this desert for myself,” she admitted, the truthful words coming with unusual ease. Pale hands gripped the worn table-edge. “But there is always another battle to fight.”  

Halfdan furrowed his brow, disagreeing quietly. “There is more to life than fighting for glory.” 

Hadn’t this man spent his life fighting alongside his brother for little reason other than power, glory, and the thrill of it? 

That was when she understood. He was no traitor; indeed it was the other, less likely option. 

Halfdan’s experiences had subtly changed him. What he’d witnessed she hardly understood - he’d surely fed her only the scraps of his escapades. But those days in a world of sand had resulted in a man who could side against his brother. 

Ylva wasn’t sure what to say, but he didn’t seem to mind. Ale may have loosened his tongue, but he had never been the most loquacious of men. Shortly after he stood. With a quiet, “seer,” he bade her farewell, inclined his head, and left. 

She watched him brazenly as he walked, people parting from his path. A few clapped his shoulders as he passed through. 

Their conversation had allayed most of her concerns over his loyalties - that should have been the end of it. But she couldn’t help but turn his words over in her mind, hearing him deliver them again in that throaty voice. He’d stolen her attention with his unexpected arrival. Now they’d spoken, her interest was heightened like the waxing of the moon. Except she already doubted this feeling would wane. From the darkness she’d anticipated to the lightness she hadn’t, he was a puzzle. Complicated in a way that made her want to figure him out.  

There was time yet before the defenders of Kattegat and her intended conquerors would meet. Halfdan would find she too had curiosity to burn.

@geekandbooknerd    @naaladareia    @notyouraveragegirl17  @xxxvalaryaxxx  @waiting4inspiration   @inforapound (I hope you don’t mind me tagging you? I thought you may have been curious about this other time-stealing project of mine. If not say so and I shan’t bother you with it 😉😂)

[violetnuisance]

A Spark

The Pure Attract The Toxic - Chapter 2

a/n: I-I finally did it. Things start to get explicit in this one. Here’s the link if you’d rather read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20988461/chapters/49910162

I dunno if my “read more” is working on mobile, but let’s pray

[[MORE]]

Travis could feel his pulse pounding in his ears as his hands tightened their grip around the strap of his messenger bag. Despite the dread filling his lungs, his eyes narrowed on his target. The mane of frizzy brown hair towered over the other students who sat at their respective tables eating lunch, making it easy to spot Larry from a mile away. The blond marched onwards, forgoing his own lunch. His stomach had been in turmoil all day, too nervous to digest anything. It wasn't until brown eyes snapped up to meet his that Travis paused for a second, losing his bravery.

Larry’s eyes narrowed as they caught Travis’s, and the blond swallowed. The look of intense displeasure crossing the brunet’s face was a stark contrast to the chaotic energy he exuded just the day prior. As Larry looked away from Travis for a second and excused himself from his lunch table, the blond could all but feel the annoyance radiating from the other. He continued to stand still, waiting for his death sentence as Larry approached him. The taller male’s hands were dug in his pockets and shoulders hunched as he glared down Travis.

“Come on,” Larry barked out as he grabbed Travis’s arm. The blond stumbled backwards, balance briefly knocked, causing Larry to only tighten his grip. “Without making a fucking scene.”

“You’re the one dragging me out of the cafeteria,” Travis huffed, letting him be pulled through the double doors and back out into the hallway. Larry’s bruising grip on him only lessened when the brunet scanned the area and found no wandering students.

“I wouldn’t have to drag you anywhere if you’d just stay away from me and my friends,” Larry retaliated. Travis felt his face redden as his temper rose. He jerked his arm completely out of the other’s hand, earning a huff from the metalhead.

“If I recall correctly, you were the one following me around yesterday,” the blond seethed. Larry’s gaze darkened and a snarky laugh pushed its way up his throat. Travis felt his temper drop to be replaced by fear as the taller male took a step towards him. Mouth suddenly feeling too dry, Travis took a step back.

“Don’t get so full of yourself,” Larry chastised, voice dropping to a low growl. The deep octave made the hair on the back of Travis’s neck stand up. “Just because I wanted to toy with you yesterday doesn’t mean we’re buddies or that I want you anywhere near my friends.”

Travis’s mouth worked for a second, trying to push words out, but his brain failed to find a snappy comeback quick enough. Larry rolled his eyes as the awkward silence grew between them until the blond wished it would have the mercy to suffocate him. He found himself staring dumbly at the taller male’s chest, feeling akin to a toddler who had just gotten chastised. No, he never would’ve considered him and Larry friends, but he didn't think it’d be quite this difficult to get the other’s acquaintanceship at least.

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” Travis chose to say. Larry crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight to a side, obviously not believing the admission. “I was just going to invite you to a church service.”

“Why in the absolute fuck would I want to go to your church?” As if they were in a comic or animated show, Travis swore he could see Larry’s eyes visibly twitching, ready to deck the blond.Travis felt himself become hyper aware of how his hands clutched his messenger bag strap for dear life once more, too used to getting his lights knocked out by others to process that Larry didn’t have any true intentions of hitting him.

“I mean, I was just thinking-“

“Whatever you were thinking, you were wrong,” Larry deadpanned, eyes narrowing. Travis’s own eyes dropped down to stare at Larry’s shoes. He really wished he could call upon his usual venom, but he felt stupefied. Everything moved a bit too slow for him to process it fast enough to put on a facade. “And from now on, only talk to me when I approach you.”

Travis didn’t utter a word as he watched Larry walk away, long hair bouncing with every angry stomp.

/ / /

The lackluster interaction between them had left Travis feeling disgruntled. He never envisioned that he’d be able to conquer the wild beast that was Larry Johnson in his first rodeo, but he had been hopeful to at least make a millimeter of headway. Instead, the stony brown eyes of the other had shot him down on sight, refusing Travis before he even had the chance to open his mouth. Despite the blond’s overwhelming negativity with the situation, he realized that maybe not everything had crumbled to ashes like it appeared when he made his way to his trusty bicycle after the final bell had rung.

Mirroring the day before, Larry stood against the chain link fence by his bike. This time, the brunet held a lit cigarette between his lips, and Travis watched as the smoke billowed against the “No Smoking!” sign attached to the fence. He did his best to swallow the anxiety that Larry was just there to scold him more and held his chin up as he approached his own bike, determined to let the metalhead know that he had absolutely no control over him.

“Hey angel,” Larry cooed, taking the cigarette from his mouth. “Seems like you have a little more ‘pep in your step’ now.”

Just like that, Travis could feel his temporary control snatched from him by a mere pet name. A wolfish grin covered Larry’s lips as the brunet averted his gaze to let out a low chuckle while Travis stood in front of him, frozen. “What’d you call me?”

“Angel,” Larry answered, pushing himself off of the fence. Travis took a step back as Larry became a step closer to him. “I can call you something else if you’d like. Kitten rolls off the tongue easily, but maybe you’d prefer baby boy?”

“I’d prefer my name.” The words came through Travis’s gritted teeth. As soon as his surprise at the name had dissipated, his stomach had done a weird flip flop, but then utter annoyance took place. The male in front of him had no place to be referring to him so fondly, how one should refer to their girlfriend, not another boy-

“Earth to Travis, yoo-hoo!” The cigarette was back in Larry’s mouth, and the taller male had leaned in closer to Travis, waving a hand in front of his face. From this new, much closer, proximity the blond was overwhelmed by the reek of the nicotine. One again, he took a step back, this time quickly looking over his shoulder. It just sank in that Larry could get them both in trouble for smoking on school premises. “What were you fantasizing about so hard that you didn’t even offer me a nod when I said that I’d go to your stupid church?”

“Wait,” Travis’s head whipped back to Larry, “You’ll go?” The blond couldn’t keep the excitement and eagerness out of his voice. If he could just get Larry to go to service, he was sure it’d change the brunet for the better and maybe help cease some of the feelings going through Travis’s own mind when he caught himself staring at Larry.

“I’ll go to one meeting,”Larry corrected, holding up a single finger. Travis would take what he could get.

“That’s great-“

“But only if you let me drive you to my place tonight,” Larry interrupted, smile broadening as Travis’s own shrank. That wasn’t so great.

“Why?” It seemed that Larry’s grin only continued to grow, his insufferable tooth gap making an appearance now. The brunet drew his eyebrows together and shrugged his shoulders as if to exaggerate how “hard” he was thinking about the answer to Travis’s question.

“I dunno, thought we could have a little bonding experience before I show up at the Phelps Ministry, y’know?” Travis didn’t know. He didn’t know why they needed to bond before the Wednesday night service. Larry rested his hand on Travis’s shoulder, and the blond felt like he was being smothered. He swore his knees started to buckle when the bastard started to rub slow circles into his skin with his thumb.

“What about my bike? I can’t leave it here, didn’t bring my chain today,” Travis got out, thanking God for the excuse.

“Let’s throw’er into the back of my pickup truck. I have some cords that I can tie her down with if you want to be sure she’s safe,” Larry assured, a glint in his eyes that made Travis feel cold. The blond hugged his arms to his chest, heaved in a breath of air, and slowly sighed before nodding.

“If there’s a single scratch on the bike from the bed of your pickup truck, you’re dead faggot,” Travis snapped, surprising them both at the sudden shift in tone. Larry snorted, shaking his head.

“There you are. There’s the Travis I know and love to hate,” Larry deadpanned. The brunet’s own sweet facade fell at Travis’s words, and he jutted a thumb in the direction of his truck. “Go ahead and get in while I grab the bike.”

/ / /

Travis sat stiff, as if the tiniest movement from him would make the vehicle’s alarm go off, as he waited for Larry to tie his bicycle down. The truck was the kind that only had a row of front seats, no back ones. At the moment, Travis would’ve killed to have been able to sit in the back, farther away from the gremlin of a brunet.

“Alright,” Larry began as he swung himself into the driver’s seat. The whole truck heaved to the side under the offending weight, and the blond was duly reminded of how much the other had bulked up since freshman year. “Next stop: casa de Larry.”

“You live in an apartment, not an actual house. Wouldn’t it be ‘piso de Larry?’” Travis asked the question half because he was an ass and half because he had a Spanish exam next week. Larry shook his head and turned the key in the ignition. As the engine roared to life, Travis felt himself cave in even more.

“Maybe if my mom was from Spain or some shit. We never use that form,” Larry gritted, eyes no longer focused on Travis as he tried to maneuver the truck around an assortment of sloppy student parking jobs. In the silence, Travis noted that Larry no longer had his cigarette, must’ve stubbed it out before climbing in. He was thankful for that, not really wanting to be trapped in a small space with the obnoxious smell of a cig. The odor was already present enough on Larry’s clothes. “So why, exactly, am I going to your church? And don’t bullshit me Phelps. I know there has to be more of a reason than it being a good experience.”

“I dunno Larry. Why am I being abducted to your apartment? There has to be a better reason than bonding,” Travis echoed back, his sarcasm slowly but surely firing up again. Larry’s glare whipped towards him, frown pressed into his face before he let out a dry chuckle.

“Like I told you, it’s just bonding. I wanna get to see the big, bad Travis Phelps in a new light,” Larry replied. His eyes darted back to the road to make sure they weren’t going to crash before he looked back at Travis, gaze traveling up and down his body. The Christian felt like he was being undressed.

“What if I don’t want to ‘bond’ with you?” Travis sneered. Larry couldn’t help the smile that broke out across his face, and Travis couldn’t help but cross his arms back over his chest, trying not to completely ruin his front. They both knew Travis would be putty in Larry’s hands.

A touch against his neck made him snap his attention back to Larry. The brunet’s own eyes flit back and forth from the road to Travis as his free hand traced patterns on the side of the blond’s neck. The shorter male roughly swallowed, disconcerted by the weird yet soft interaction. “Don’t worry angel, we’ll only do whatever you want to,” Larry purred, fingers dipping down to trace the base of Travis’s neck before lightly tugging at his sweater’s neckline. “But something tells me that you’re going to want to do a lot.”

Just as the gentle touches started, they stopped, leaving Travis alight. He tried to blame his longing for the caresses on the lack of positive physical affection in his own household, but that debate came up short in his own mind. He didn’t have to mull over the reason for long however because Larry’s hand suddenly rested on his thigh. Travis looked to the other, to see what game he was playing, but the metalhead was focused on the road, signaling their conversation was over for now. At first, the hand didn’t bother Travis too terribly much. He grew accustomed to its weight and warmth, could almost pretend it wasn’t there. However, when Larry started driving on back roads and subconsciously squeezing the boy under him at every dip in the road, the blond began to mind the hand very much. He knew the other, for once, wasn’t trying to get a rouse from Travis, but this might’ve been the best show Travis put on for him yet.

While Larry’s hand was resting on top his outer thigh, his fingers were curled against his inner. And while the placement was nowhere near his crotch, it still made Travis’s head spin. Right now, he was sat up stiff and straight, legs almost completely shut together. If he actually relaxed, slouched a bit, and let his legs spread to a more comfortable position, the hand would surely rest a lot higher on him. Travis wasn’t a fan of how much the idea excited him, but another part of him certainly was. The Christian could’ve screamed bloody murder when he realized he was starting to sport a hard on from just having a hand on his thigh, Larry’s hand no less. Instead, he looked out the passenger seats window and steeled himself, trying to calm down.

However, as fate would have it, the bastard beside him started to rub circles against him, fingertips curving all too pleasantly against Travis’s leg through his shorts. The blond knew in the back of his mind that it simply wasn’t normal for even a less disciplined man than himself to get hard from a hand on their leg, but Travis felt like he was positively burning. He looked like he was burning too. In the window, he could see his faint reflection, and a vicious blush dusted his features.

“Only about fifteen minutes away from the apartment complex,” Larry stated, casting a glance over to Travis. His eyebrows immediately furrowed at the sight. “Jesus, do you have a fever? My mom just got over the flu, can't be bringing any more illnesses into the house.”

“No! No, I’m fine,” Travis replied, words tumbling out quick. He ripped his gaze from the window to face Larry, offering a nerve stricken smile. Larry stared at him intently, eyes searching his face before they suddenly dropped down to his crotch.

“Oh my god,” Larry began, grip on Travis’s leg tightening.

“Fuck you,” Travis spat, jerking his leg away from Larry. His whole body shifted from the brunet, legs clamped together, but it was still easy to notice the tent in his pants.

“Apparently you really want to,” the brunet mused. His hand hovered in the air, as if he wanted to pry the other’s legs apart and see how much damage he had done, but he thought better of it. His thumbs drummed against the steering well as he grabbed it with both hands.

“Only in your wet dreams, Johnson,” Travis growled, and Larry really wanted to go into a hysteria of laughing. Only the blondie sat beside him would deny his attraction while there was a raging boner in his lap. Instead, he slowed the truck as he pulled off to the side of the road. He never cut the engine, just let it purr gently as the vehicle came to a halt. The change in pace startled Travis, and he felt his heart start to race. At this point, he didn’t know if it was from anxiety or anticipation. “What are you doing? Why are we stopped?”

Larry shifted in his seat to fully face Travis now that he wasn’t driving. The coy smirk that seemed to be ever present on his face broadened as he once again looked Travis up and down. The Christian could feel the blood rushing in his ears as Larry bit at his own finger for a second, seeming to decide something in his head. “Say Travis, have you ever heard of road head?”