#birost

[xciur31uc0]

[memurfevur-archive]

just some rays being rays

Rayqua is on the left. Absess is on the right and belongs to @byrdstrolls :)

[memurfevur-archive]

Karlai, local cowboy, is a Cerulean >:3c

oh fuck what was his name? Expo Marker? ;)

Expo Marker's daddy, the Expo Maker

my lovely bunny girl Retepa (her moirail is also a blueblood but he's not on the blog yet :c )

Rayqua <3

Heeeeeeey.... Can I pretty please see everyone's Bluebloods? Twirls some hair around my finger while kicking my legs Like.... I would looooove to see your Teals. Your Ceruleans. Your Indigos. Or whatever blue colored blood your trolls have

[tallomere]

Waltzing Memories, 2023, 932 words, Biröst/Eindle

Eindle had come all this way, and he was now hesitating. The small alcove of the beach, shrouded from the outside world by tall trees and dense forestry, was cast in a blanket of deep midnight. The sand shone silver. Ankle deep in the sea stood the deity Biröst.

Eindle wasn’t sure if he had been noticed, so he reached his bow. His mission was to investigate, not to confront… Yet knowing he should, he could not find the strength to step away. He only moved to reassuringly reach for his quite frightened familiar- who’s jellyfish silhouette grew transparent in the moonlight. Eindle, too, felt his emotions rise, and curse grow stronger. What emotion was causing it? Fear? Anticipation? Or…

And then Biröst turned. Eindle had been noticed since the beginning. His long hair was deep against the backdrop of sand, caught and dancing in the night wind, the antlers on his head cold and shining. If he were human and encountered on this beach, Eindle thought, one could mistake him for a person of the sea that learned how to walk.

Alas, he was not- the force of nature stared at him, unblinking. It struck Eindle in that moment that he should leave. By all means.

As he turned around, the small, carefully woven tunnel made of branches and vines that he had so delicately and quietly entered the alcove from was now overgrown, impassable. The knight could only glance back at the now approaching figure. Approaching. Were his intentions…?

Biröst only held out a hand. Eindle’s familiar, if it had a mouth, would have shrieked from surprise and terror.

As Eindle turned, hardly there, searching for any intentions in Biröst's expression, waiting for the inevitable… he felt possessed to take it. And after a moment of internal conflict, Eindle reached with his own hand, finding it grew more visible the closer it got to Birost.

His hand wasn’t cold, as Eindle expected. Rather it was lukewarm- like someone who was sick, who’s body couldn’t afford to warm its extremities. Unmarred, yet not soft. Not yet able to meet Biröst's eyes, Eindle stared at the sculpturesque hand as he was led from the trees, onto the surface the white sand. Ah, perhaps I have made a fatal mistake…

Gently, without reason, Biröst began to dance with him.

Eindle had learned formal dancing as part of his training. Crowlas insisted “A knight is not without his sensibilities!” or something along those lines. Biröst's movements were languid, inexperienced, and almost curious as they waltzed across the sand. Stepping gently across the surface of a calm tide, leading Eindle into classical routine, hand on his own hand and waist. And it was silent.

The knight mustered his courage to look up at Biröst. Face all stone and unreadable as it was in that church, on that day. Unreadable, yet… His eyes held a sense of questioning, of being lost.

He lost sight of those eyes as he was dipped, not violently. Eindle felt as if he were a doll, being danced instead of dancing. Perhaps dancing with was an improper classification.

Against his profile the water’s curves bent the light of the glowing jellyfish- Eindle swore they were not in the sea when he arrived. The jellies glew a soft blue-white, illuminating the waltzing two, as if they had adapted over thousands of generations for that single fleeting purpose.

It continued on. On, and on they danced, as if he had learned this waltz a long time ago and simply forgot.

At some point, he lost sight of Biröst, the firm touch of his hands had disappeared without notice, but he continued to dance. It was as if the white sand went on forever, an illusory stage for his own. He only came to himself as he knelt down, his choreography finished.

His shoes were wet. His legs were wet. He was kneeling in the shallows. He recoiled, searching for Biröst, but the mysterious individual was nowhere to be seen. And when Eindle then looked for an escape, he noticed the now left behind cleared path back away from the alcove.

The knight’s jellyfish approached, reaching out a tendril, seeming concerned. Eindle shook his head.

“No, I am fine… Do not worry, friend.”

Yet his familiar protested. Standing up, sand (that had not been waterlogged) cascaded down Eindle’s uniform, catching moonlight.

“What’s wrong…? I’m not hurt …Ah,”

Eindle only now grew aware of the tears that were falling down his cheeks.

“When did I…?” It wouldn’t stop.

“Eindle…?” Familiar voices echoed from the vine-filled passage leading to the beach.

He couldn’t answer, searching for a piece of fabric on him that didn’t have sand or salt on it to dry his face with. His familiar tried desperately to assist, but a jellyfish (kin of the sea) can only do too much, and…

“Eindle! There you are! We were looking all over for you…” Zhen’s look of relief and worry became only worry as the hidden knight turned to face him, the face he possessed almost frantic.

“Sorry, I… don’t know why…”

He was soon crowded around. Perhaps Crowlas grew worried when he didn’t return on time. Eindle learned, soon after, that he was several hours past due. He eventually stopped crying, unsure of what spell came over him, and he and the other knights returned home. As they left, the passageway of mangrove silently overgrew behind them.

A "write a song" challenge of Waltzing Memories.

Silent in the night magic in the light

Haunting like a dream, peaceful and serene

Floating on the water

Eyes of ocean blue hiding in the dunes

Smiling in the sunshine, crying in the dark night

Whispers on the water

Dancing with the moon, stars fall 'til morning

Softly, a voice sings

Gently, sweet, reminding

Waves of golden hue fly far above me

Was it truly you? Or was I only dreaming?

Gently and sweet, softly reminding

Gently the sea will always remind me

[finnicart]

round one of artfight attacks !!

characters are: koburo and etsuni by silvertheexchanger, birost by eldur, and serena and marty by @gadgetron !!

[memurfevur-archive]

i have a lot more fishies than i thought

in order: Baikal, Holy Mackerel, Esther, Cretchur, Ripjaw, Rayqua, Cyprin, Kisame, Aingel, Archer, and Piomor :)

I wanna see some fucking FISH

Purplebloods pink bloods mutants any one of em show me your FISHES

[bioticgoddess]

Exiles of Asgard (1/?)

Notes: Hey look at the pretty! I did a thing - The sequel to Ward of Asgard! Minor Ragnarok spoilers ahead. 

Pairing: Loki x Althea/OC

Exiles of Asgard: Introduction  - Heimdall

The Gatekeeper stood near the podium in the Bifrost gate. He ran his hand over the sheath for his great sword. The great sword – only his weapon and gungnir were capable of unlocking the Bifrost. With a heavy sigh he spoke, “I know you’re aware of who sits on the throne.”

“I am,” Althea replied softly.

The golden eyed god continued, “He is surprisingly effective at governing Asgard when unchallenged. But I swore my oaths to Odin not to your husband. I cannot, however, in good conscience continue to serve when I know there is a…pretender upon the throne. When the nine realms are again sinking into chaos and he does nothing.” This was hard for Heimdall, harder than he cared to admit – to step down from his role as the Bifrost’s Gatekeeper and guardian. His last duty had been opening the bridge to allow his sister, Sif, to return after her altercation with the Kree on earth. At least Odin – Loki – had seen them as a threat. If nothing else, the pretender had an interest in keeping Midgard safe.

Althea climbed up the stairs to the keyhole, walking around to face Heimdall. She’d protected all of them from any repercussions under Loki’s rule. Not that he’d been particularly concerned with penalizing any of his former friends. “Heimdall,” the elf began, “You’re the only person we can truly trust with the Bifrost.” She paused, “You’ve protected every single one of us. More than once.”

He chuckled. “That is true, my young friend,” this meant leaving his friends, his kingdom, and everything he’d ever known. “I know that this will brand me a traitor, but it’s the right thing to do.” Loki’s illusion had worked against him for over a year, clouded his vision but only when it came to the current king. What he wanted to say was that he appreciated her honest. The fact that the Silver-Tongued God’s wife had lied. That he had appreciated the friendship she’d shown him over the years.  “No my princess,” he said, “Until either Odin or Thor returns, I cannot do this.”

“And who will be here to open the Birost to them if not you,” she asked quickly.

Hanging his head and pulling off his gilded horned helmet, “Someone else I fear. Though I trust you will keep our king on the proper path. I know it was you who reigned in a great deal of his …plans.” He meant the statue, the plays, everything that effective martyred and sainted Loki. Dead or alive, his actions on Svartalfheim earned him some measure of honor and affection from Asgard but things had gone from reasonable to self-serving in short order.

She nodded. Heimdall had been on guard at the Bifrost since she was a child, not much beyond a child himself actually. Taking the role from his father after his mother passed away during a skirmish with the dwarves of Nidvallir. He’d missed the wedding between his father and Sif’s mother, missed the girl’s birth, and later naming ceremonies out of a sense of duty. That this place was both his burden and his sanctuary. Even after the battle between Thor and Loki destroyed the gate itself, he’d taken up his post on the shattered Bifrost. He sighed heavily and turned to Althea, “Unless you know where Odin is, and can return him, my decision has been made old friend.”

The elf took a step towards him, nodding. “You’ve never been one to let even Loki sway you.”

“Indeed. And I have given my life to this,” he motioned to the chamber around him, “Should real need arise, should the realm need me as well as what friends I kept, then I will return. You have my word Princess.” With that he bowed his head. “I trust you’ll bring this to our king?”

Heimdall turned the blade of the key sword towards himself, the hilt pointed at the elf. With a heavy sigh she nodded, “Of course.” As her hands wrapped around it, Heimdall took a number of steps back.

“Farewell, Princess,” he bowed his head again, practically disappearing out of the Bifrost chamber.

She sighed as he walked off, “Good luck old friend.”

--

In his guise as Odin, Loki demanded, “What do you mean Hemidall has abandoned his post?”

“Not abandoned it my king, he has...resigned,” she corrected carefully.

Brow furrowed, the gray-haired Asgardian practically glared at her. “I see.” The Warriors Three and Lady Sif were present, he couldn’t just drop the illusion and have a regular conversation with Althea (who avoided the throne room at all cost, despite the reunion she and Loki had had months earlier). Clearing his throat, Loki-Odin sat back in the throne – deliberating the fate of the now former gate keeper.

Heimdall had been correct  - these actions made him a traitor. Though it did give Loki an excuse to place a more friendly party, or at least one less loyal to Thor, at the Bifrost’s gate. “This is most unusual,” he said after what felt like hours. “However,” He looked at Volstagg and in the usual bluster of the All-Father continued, “Until a more permanent replacement is found, I charge you – Volstagg of the Warriors Three – with the care and guardianship of the Bifrost Gate.”

The red-haired goliath of a man stammered, bowing low to Odin, “I am honored my king.” Recovering, he crossed to Althea. She still possessed Heimdall’s sword, a burden she was almost happy to be rid of and somewhat visibly relieved to be passing on to Volstagg. At least he was competent and trustworthy. Sword in hand, he bowed again, “My lord, I shall go to the Bifrost Gate at once.”

Odin bowed his head, dismissing Volstagg. Hogun and Fandral followed suit and trailed off behind their friend.

“Daughter,” he spoke, that word like bile in his mouth, “If you would excuse us, I should like to discuss her brother’s disappearance with Lady Sif.”

The shield maiden protested, eyes wide, “My king, I would think it best if the Princess stayed.” She was quick, not giving either the monarch nor her effective advocate time to do anything but breathe.  

Exasperated he acquiesced, even the real Odin would have been too tired to argue at this point in the affair. “Very well.” He nodded to her, watching the shield maiden breathe a sigh of relief at the action. “Did you have any knowledge of your brother’s intentions, Lady Sif? If so, when did he mention them to you and why did you not bring them to your king? Or at the least, my daughter.” Again that word was like bile.

Careful in her choice of words, Sif answered the All-Father’s questions. “Heimdall and I have never been particularly close. That aside, if he had told me of whatever turmoil led him to decide to abandon his post, I would have forewarned you immediately my king,” when Odin nodded, she continued, “My brother is the most stouthearted Gatekeeper the realm has known in ages. I would not have let him leave without doing anything in my power to prevent it.”

It was true. They weren’t close. 

Heimdall was decades older than his sister, their mothers different women and he had taken his post before she was born. The All-Father asked if Sif knew where her brother may have gone – was he merely hiding or had he left the realm. Did he have a lover he might go to? She had no answers for him on those or any questions he asked about the gatekeeper.

Inevitably, Althea stepped forward, putting herself between Sif and Odin. “My king, she knows naught where her brother would be nor why he left. She has said so numerous times. Nor did Heimdall himself provide any clue as to where he would go when he turned the key sword over to my keeping.”

“Then it is with a  heavy heart that I must declare Heimdall a traitor to Asgard. Should he be found, or return, he will be punished  accordingly,” he shook his head. To Sif, it looked as though he were truly aggrieved to declare Heimdall a traitor. Althea knew better. “Lady Sif, you may return to your duties,” he said after a moment.

Sif bowed, taking her leave.

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Water's surface

[xciur31uc0]

[springydiskjockey]

Anemoi quickly brought the ringing to a stop when he noticed Alex in pain as a violetblooded seadweller stalked forward across the dancefloor to the two combatants. "I think it best you pay your tab now," she stated, arms crossed. "Unless you'd rather I summon the drones?"

The other two blanched and quickly forked over the money before hightailing it from the building.

springydiskjockey:

“Fair enough… oh no…” Hermes’ tone shifted from pleasant to annoyed as a fight began to break out on the floor. “You’re gonna want to cover your ears.”

With a quick motion, Anemoi snapped a pair of headphones over his ears, prompting other staff and severl patrons to cover their own ears as well. He held up a tuning fork the size of a short sword to a microphone and gave the weapon a sharp flick.

The resultant ringing resonated throughout the building from the speakers, driving the fighters to their knees.

Alex picked up on the noises of a brawl, which ripped their attention in half. They let out a questioning noise at Hermes’ comment, unsure if they heard incorrectly or why ear covering was the solution. 

By the time they looked out on the floor and found what was going on, the action was already done. Alex whined, bending over a little, squeezing their eyes shut and pressing their palms into their ears.

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[derinthescarletpescatarian]

I’d watch an adaptation of The Birost Incident with that budget.

Ragnarok III: Strange Meeting in a nutshell

Loki: Where you headed?

Thor: Gonna kill Odin with this hammer I found, you?

Loki: Gonna kiss my wife.

Both: *give the other a thumbs up as a sick-ass guitar solo plays*

[memurfevur-archive]

In order:

Aingel, Moreto, Piomor, Esther, Ripjaw, Cyprin, Baikal, Archer, Rayqua

I wanna see some fucking FISH

Purplebloods pink bloods mutants any one of em show me your FISHES

[springydiskjockey]

The violet sighed and relaxed her posture, gliding like a sea ray over to the bar as Hermes did the same. "Oh hello, I dion't believe I've seen a human before!" She smiled kindly. "Democa Birost, owner of this fine establishment." She extended a hand.

springydiskjockey:

Anemoi quickly brought the ringing to a stop when he noticed Alex in pain as a violetblooded seadweller stalked forward across the dancefloor to the two combatants. “I think it best you pay your tab now,” she stated, arms crossed. “Unless you’d rather I summon the drones?”

The other two blanched and quickly forked over the money before hightailing it from the building.

After a second or two, Alex uncurls and lifts their hands away, eyes still narrowed in a  grimace. Hands returned to ears, but to rub them gently to rid the leftover ringing instead of protect them. 

Alex watched the end half of the exchange between the violet and the brawlers, making a mental note or two. Otherwise, they took a breath and straightened back up again.