#broken compass

[snowlattes]

broken morals

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have i posted this here...? im reposting this on twi/tter so might as well as throwback hehe

[drawinglinestoconstellations]

Finally finished this short teaser comic about my beloved OC Brandon I worked on with @stefanomaglianoart! ✨ If you’d like to read it and support the further development of our stories and OCs it is now on Patreon! 💕

[chrysoula]

i have got to get this mess out of my head:

The Sumeru plot of Genshin Impact can at least be interpreted as a story about the power and necessity of unreason. The early introduction to the starving artist district, where those shunned by rational society for their emotional pleasures congregate, serves to set up the conflict between emotions and reason, heart and mind, dream and knowledge. (Between them lies understanding, which is where the tree of Wisdom grows. The people of Sumeru do not dream, and shun the dark (which is not the same as shunning the night. in darkness, you do not see, you feel, smell, taste, remember. You are not a mind in a machine, but a dream in a body alert and alive.))

Nilou was declared to have the biggest dream in Sumeru. I didn't see this addressed much in a serious way, but at least once upon a time, I thought I understood. Everybody knows she's the current Goddess of Flowers, even if they don't know the words to express that. That's what all her stories tell us. She has the power to tap into something primal, bring it to the surface, and share it with everyone. She might even be the dark side's akasha-equivalent, wordlessly communicating with her whole body, taking, reflecting back. Now, this is mostly a symbolic, metaphorical thing. But in the Kingdom of Dreams, metaphors are monsters, and monsters can be tamed.

Ahem. This is the stuff of dreams. But in Sumeru the dreams are everywhere. The world is thick with them. They cling to its people like spiderwebs and morning mist. Like the jungle, they have grown. In Sumeru, the dreams well up into the world. They find outlets. They find her. And the Sages are absolutely dependent on her for the samsara to work. She's basically the power source, the soul of the city.

[haveyouplayedthisttrpg]

Have you played BROKEN COMPASS ?

By Riccardo Sirignano and Simone Formicola

Broken Compass is an Adventure Role-Playing Game inspired by the great movies and games of the genre, from the Mummy all the way to Uncharted, passing through Indiana Jones and Tomb Raider

You want to play pulp ? Use this.

Basis for the Fortune System

[amjustagirl]

Broken Compass: Fireflies

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x f! reader

genre: parenthood, fluff

wc: 1.5k

summary: tales of a firefly.

a/n: outtake of broken compass

Broken Compass: Tales of a firefly 

Sakusa doesn’t know how the nickname firefly for his little daughter stuck. 

As a rule, he hates insects. Loathes them with the burning passion of a thousand suns, mosquitoes that draw blood in summer (reminding him painfully of Atsumu), flies that buzz about his ears and destroy the sanctity of the cakes you bake on your days off for him (like Bokuto stealing his food from his locker), grasshoppers squatting in his sneakers, beetles crawling over his laundry and he most certainly hates hates hates cockroaches with every inch of his being. 

But fireflies. They’re different. 

He grew up in the city, where trees are scarce and the shift in seasons is marked by nothing much more than a dip or rise in temperature. But he and Motoyo used to be sent to their grandmother’s home in the countryside over the summer holidays when they were younger and their time less occupied by volleyball practice and camps. He’d hate it to bits, moping about the grass stains on his socks, the incessant chirping of cicadas (in hindsight, they remind him of Hinata), longing for his comfortable bed and neat, orderly room back home, even though Motoya would do his best to draw him out of the shell and into the games and fun he’d organise with the neighbourhood kids. 

“C’mon, live a little”, Motoya would always say, a common refrain. 

Kiyoomi tries his best, follows behind his gregarious cousin with a reasonable amount of grumbling, but he truly does not enjoy the rough play and tumble that the other children seem to prefer. 

One summer evening, the heat so stifling it settles on his skin like a scratchy woolen blanket, he’s dragged out of the house by Motoya.  “It’s already dark”, he grouches, but Motoya, used to his cousin’s cantankerous ways, just tugs him along with a steady smile. They walk and walk and walk, wending their way through backyards until they reach an open field where other children are gathered. 

“What are we doing?” he hisses to Motoya, who just shrugs. 

One of the older boys whips a  jar out, a flickering gold light gleaming softly against the clear glass. The other kids ooh and aah as he shakes the jar with a shit eating grin, the light fading in and out, the pathetic creature trapped in a macabre dance. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi is not one to make a scene, but something snaps in him and he stalks forward, grabs the jar away from the boy before he can react, twisting the cap to let the poor creature escape back into the summer skies. 

“Oi!” the boy hisses, taking a threatening step forward. 

Kiyoomi just glares at him, taking advantage of every inch of his already formidable height until the other boy shuffles back and the crowd around them disperses, disappointed that the night is ending without any further excitement. He watches the swirl of gold and amber in the purpling dusk, ends up borrowing books from the library about insects, grimacing until he finds the section on fireflies. 

He reads about how fireflies have special organs in their bellies that absorb oxygen, combining it with luciferin to glow. Each firefly has its unique flashing pattern, designed to communicate with one another, warning predators to stay away, their blood venomous. They’re fierce yet fragile creatures, their existence in the world beautiful yet brief. 

Fireflies should be treasured, admired. 

So when he holds Sachiko for the first time, listens to the sound of her soft warbling cries, the soft shine of her brown eyes, he can only think about the fact that the decades he’ll hopefully get to spend with her is still too short a time,  and he needs to spend every moment treasuring the time he has with her, basking in her glow. 

“Hello firefly”, he breathes. 

She snuffles against his chest. He loses his heart to her light. 

He knows he’s an overprotective dad. For his little firefly, he wears his heart on his sleeve, celebrating whenever she does something new even as he mourns each day passing, texting you with photos of her gummy smile, exclaiming ‘I can’t believe we made this perfect, precious being’, laughing openly when she gurgles, fretting whenever she cries. It’s an easy decision for him to take half a year off work so you can restart your career without worry, even though his boss at the JVA blinks at the unexpected request, but he’s not afraid of walking away from the job - he’s not afraid from walking away from anything but you and Sachiko. 

“She’s too young”, he argues with you when you first bring up childcare. 

He knows that he should get back to his job, that Sachiko will be completely fine in the hands of professionals, that she’ll just toddle happily after Bokuto’s wolfpack of sons, singing songs and drawing pictures and frolicking in the park, watched by doting teachers. But time is a-ticking, and every day that passes is one less day he gets to spend with his little firefly. 

“It’s for her own good”, you reply, softly but firmly. He hates that he knows you’re right. 

She needs to socialise with her peers lest she become sullen and surly like him, and he needs to get back to work so he can squirrel more savings away for her future. 

So he has to let his firefly go, let her share her light and warmth with the world. 

Still, there are tears in his eyes on the first day of preschool when Sachiko runs off ahead, hand in hand with two of Bokuto’s sons. 

You press a soft kiss to the curve of his jaw. “She’s gonna have fun all day, and we’ll see her at home all evening.” 

He’s not even embarrassed that his throat is so tight he can only croak. 

It’s a relief when he picks her up in the evening after work. She runs to him, throwing her little body in his arms, chattering to him about the friends she’s made, the drawings she’s made of her ‘to-san, her ‘ka-san and a dog - cos we should adopt a dog, Kouichi, Kouji and Kousuke just got one last week. He shudders at the chaos a dog would add to the Bokuto household and resolves to send Sachiko over there less for playdates (fat hope, his firefly has turned their trio into a quartet). 

“But I still missed you, ‘to-san!” 

“I miss you too”, he replies, eyes suspiciously wet. “Let’s go home, firefly. Your ‘ka-san’s gonna cook our favourite dinner.”

Sachiko gasps. “Umeboshi fried rice?” 

“Mmhm. Smart girl!” He lifts her up, refusing to let her down the entire walk home. 

So maybe he can’t freeze time, not even for a second. He can’t stop Sachiko from growing up. He has no right to stop her from spreading her wings, from taking flight from their burrow, her absences growing longer and longer. 

But there’s still time for more memories to be made. 

In summer, when the entire family is in need of a respite from Tokyo’s sweltering heat, they spend a week or two back in his grandmother’s home. It’s nice bringing Sachiko to the aquarium where she squeals over colourful fish, picnicking in the mountains with umeboshi onigiris, and visiting the zoo. But the highlight of the trip is when you and Sachiko unearth some ancient camping tent from the attic, identical puppy dog eyes round and pleading for him to agree to a night out under the stars. 

A barbecued dinner later which Bokuto would drool over, they lie down on the camping sheet with bellies full, watching as the sun fades and the night slowly arrives. There’s a flicker of gold at the corner of his eye, and all his effort setting up the campsite pays off when Sachiko sits up abruptly, her face lighting up with a brilliant smile. 

“Look!” 

He drinks in the scene. Sachiko and you, spellbound by the sight of fireflies dancing in dusk, identical expressions of wonder on your faces. 

“What are these?” Sachiko asks, a few minutes later, after sight before her loses its novelty. 

“They’re fireflies, little one”, you reply. 

She blinks, processing your answer. “That’s what ‘to-san calls me too!”

“That’s right”, you say. “Cos’ they’re just like you.” 

Sachiko stares at him. “Why! Am I a little bug?” 

That makes him laugh. “C’mere, firefly”, he says warmly, opening his arms so she can snuggle in. “It’s not cos’ you’re a little bug, silly girl.”

She crinkles her nose up at him. “Then why!” 

“Because”, he boops her nose. “They’re amazing and special and smart and beautiful. Just like you, firefly.”

She’s not at the age where she disavows parental affection which she inevitably will be, which he dreads. So he’s thankful that she chirps a sweet “you’re special too, ‘to-san!”, winding her arms around his neck to pepper his cheeks with kisses. Later, when they get home, you borrow books from the library about fireflies for Sachiko, and he’s absurdly happy when she asks him to read them to her every night before tucking her into bed. 

“Goodnight, firefly”, he says, turning the lights off. 

“Sleep tight”, she mumbles, eyelids already drooping shut. “No bedbugs tonight.”

a/n: hope this little bit of fluff brings some joy to you!

much love, nikki.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Character Playkit - Broken Compass 2.0

Broken Compass is a ttrpg inspired by movies like Indiana Jones, setting you up as globetrotters on daring expeditions. And I've made a playkit for it!

I've talked about it before, but I've updated the original sheet to add Safety Tools and made the character sheet easier to read. You can check it out here!

As always, you can also check out my full collection by clicking on the link below.

Clicky.

[skzfaker]

We do not follow maps to buried treasure, and ‘X’ never, ever, marks the spot

[ai-megurine]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (if you feel like it, no pressure) Spread the self-love 💖

Not me answering six months late 😭 sorry bestie 🥹

Five? That's a lot 😭 Still, please enjoy!!!

Lady Dreamfyre (HOTD)

Broken Compass (Fate Franchise)

Lady Moon (Naruto, in French)

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken (MHA)

Full Moon and Faes (MHA)

[danbisroom]

Ep. 7 - We’ll return when we drift apart

Hello my fellow souls,

welcome back to Danbi’s Room, your weekly dose of safe space. Go grab a cup of something warm and get yourself cosy.

I hope you had a nice and fulfilling week!

I’m back with original pieces, thank you again for your patience and understanding.

Goodness, so many things to say…okay let’s start.

I feel that, in general, we have given up on magic. I wouldn’t say it’s because “we have the proof it’s total nonsense”. I see it more as “ we got to a point where we’re conditioned to think we can’t afford to believe in it”. Now, obviously this topic is sociologically complicated, but at the end of the day it doesn’t even matter, ‘cause we’re in Danbi’s Room and what matters is to talk about our feelings and share stuff right?

So, call me crazy but I do believe in magic. I also believe that the concept of what magic is can vary for each one of us. An advice I’d give you is to start looking for it in the small things. You know, it’s just another way of connecting the dots and following what our heart actually wants.

Like the broken compass.

You know, the one Jack Sparrow uses. It doesn’t point to the North. As mad and useless that might seem at first, it’s the opposite. The so-called broken compass guides you towards what you truly desire, towards what your soul actually craves. Now, this naturally raises two questions. The first would be that you need to have at least an idea of what you want for all this to work. Not an easy task at all, given that you have to set directions and determine a path (that can totally change along the way), but it’s not impossible. It’s hard. it’s tiring, it requires effort, sure, but it’s between you and…you.

The second question is that if you’re not already surrounded by your people you’re going to be misunderstood, judged, looked down upon. Heavily. Why would you use a compass that seems broken to anybody else? Why would you trust it?

The point is exactly that: trusting the compass means trusting yourself. Trusting your gut, trusting your dreams who will be manifested along the way. Trusting your own magic and the one encompassing you. Again, most people don’t do that, not anymore. They let their wise inner child be buried alive. They’re still there screaming but nobody listens. Even so, magic is still such a huge component of our being we are instinctively drawn to anything resembling it: fantasy fiction, dressing up, being in Nature, religions, praying, any type of art really…and more things to count. Not that differentiating these categories is pointless but I believe we should also acknowledge they all somehow fall under the term “magic”.

Yeah I digressed. But it’s useful to make my point, which is that people who don’t believe in magic will try to drag you down in every possible way. They’ll say they do it for you, that they love you, that it’s better their way, it’s safer. And you’re crazy, you will fail, or, even worse, you’re already a failure. You’re a “weirdo”. They envy the sparkle in your eyes, that glimpse of the universe you got within you.

You might not agree with what I’m about to say, but, for God’s sake, don’t listen to them. Even if they’re loved ones, don’t let them kill you, don’t bury your inner child alive. Please, I beg you. Listen to that kid, they know better. Protect them, they will protect you. Even when it’s difficult and terrifying, hold on a bit more. Celebrate your unique way to live, of orienting yourself. You create you’re own direction, isn’t that amazing? And we’re born with it, we’re born oriented, we’re born knowing how to relate our body to space, both internally and externally. I find that extraordinary.

Don’t lose that.

And remember: you’re not crazy, and even if you are, that’s fine.

If they mock you, if they laugh behind your back, they are, most likely, even crazier than you.

Today’s song recommendation is, for obvious reasons, Broken Compass, both the 3Racha version and the Stray Kids version. I would take a look at the lyrics if I were you, while enjoying CB97’s great production.

I hope you enjoyed this episode and that you have a beautiful week ahead of you!

I’ll see you in the next one, big hug!

With love, yours,

Danbi

[halliescomut]

So I just created a document and saved about 15 songs worth of lyrics so I can make a TikTok about Bang Chan for spite....I don't know if I'm proud of myself or disappointed. 🤣

But uhh....if you never have, you should listen to 3Racha's Broken Compass:

[hollistercrowley]

Dark Naturalism #5: Lost in The Desert Edition!

[drawinglinestoconstellations]

Realized I’ve never drawn our favorite archeologists all together so I figured I’d fix that as a bit of an early bday present to myself! ~

I share these beloved characters with @stefanomaglianoart & @giorgiaodd ✨

Commissions (OPEN) | Patreon | ko-fi | VGen Commissions

[starlitsemantics]

nothing quite as terrifying as writing something i think is contextually hilarious knowing my sense of humour is. bad.

like, the scene is good but my head decided it's also comedic and i have no way of conveying that

aaaaah

[residueofsomething]

Remains after finding K-pop

I have told the story of how I discovered K-pop over and over again. I wrote about it on multiple blogs. Yet, I never vocalized the effects of Korean pop music on me. This is the remains after finding K-pop. I will briefly discuss this according to the groups/artists that impacted me. BTS This group taught me about youth and loving myself. The songs that stand out to me with this lesson are:…

[educationaldm]

The Broken Compass - Shop Floor by Tom Cartos.

tomcartos.com

[elder-millennial-of-zion]

I never want to hear the phrase “collective liberation” from people who think the Israeli/Jewish hostages should have just been left to rot in literal captivity, ever again.