#but also he very much wants to use this particularly well bred wolf for his own purposes

[ibrithir-was-here]

i adore your bad end series! with the most recent post, i have to wonder what little quincey considers dracula to be. his weird uncle? his parents' "friend?" a spooky roommate?

Ah yes, the vampire lord in the corner.

I’m going to tag @unchartedentity for this as they asked a very similar question!

So, @animate-mush who’s wonderful writing keeps inspiring this series to new heights has had Quincey call him “Father” in parallel to Jonathan’s ‘Papa’ and yeah I can definitely see Dracula pressing for that title, both by his ‘right’ as the reason the child is a vampire in the first place “He owes what he is as much to myself as to who’s blood he shares. And doesn’t some of mine run through him now as well?”

And also just because he knows it’s a knife in Jonmina’s hearts to hear Quincey call him that

How the relationship actually pans out? I think that in actually it’s much more of a creepy weird uncle situation, mixed with a lot of Palpatine corruption attempts. Dracula finds Quincey’s whole existence deeply interesting, seeing the Harkers attempts at domesticity is incredibly bizarre to him and also humorous—I think he really feels at some moment Quincey will twist into proper Vampire mode and break his dear papa’s heart doing so, and robbed of his chance to take over England he’ll take his kicks where he can get them.

Also going to take this opportunity to post the Dracula and Quincey interaction I just drew

[talesofealdancynedom]

Professor Hara Fyrstan, in fairy robes; remastered concept.

Tale 31: If We Lost The Sea Wives (chapter 1 - Northland Family 1/5 ) part 7. Stories of Magic Forests

no warings

              Hara Fyrstan tends the Fey Conservatory, with great care; He was a prodigy, filling the role his grandfather once did. In fact, they weren’t too different from each other, in looks, roles and personality. Both red haired, grey eyed, fey loving, Northland bred passionate professors. Both with big hearts, and equal compassion for all living things; Including fey. This due to both of them being born, and raised, in the farthest North West tip of Elden Kingdom: The magic Isle of Isfisceard. This mystical ancient place, had the most magical sea in the world. Every inch of the village and islands, was coated in fey. It made the people invested in their land, and its connection to fey of the sea. Naturally, this included Hara and his grandfather, Saturn.

The fey conservatory of Pepperidge academy, which was used for rehabilitation and education, was Grandfather Firepot’s greatest accomplishment. It is a school treasure. All teachers, students, and fey; enjoyed the peaceful atrium. It is a glass walled, three stories tall, magic garden withing the school. Hara dreamed of this job, ever since his grandfather told him stories about it. It inspired Hara to work hard in his Northland schooling, to immigrate to to The Grand West, just for the position. When Hara got there, he made the most of his success. Pepperidge Academy’s infrastructure, community, and fey, received only the best love and care from their new head seer. Hara had gone so far, as to make all of Pepperidge a protected magic forest, like his ow. He had quite the reputation after only a year’s employment. Hara was incredibly thankful for his grandfather, who helped inspire and teach him.

              The conservatory didn’t just hold and heal ferries and wonderous plants, but also aquatic fey; Fish children, Sea wives, or Daughter of The Sea, as Hara knew them. As a mage of the Northlands, Hara should have a complex and deep relationship with the daughters of the sea, but instead his qualms with the Fish Kingdom came from one of his students; Rah Wintersleep. Rah was also a mage, but instead of a seer of magic knowledge like Hara, he was charmer that sung spells. Rah was also a storm-breaker, that caused epic storms when magic flowed through him in times of joy. He was working on controlling it, with a storm staph. Rah was not only Hara’s responsibility as a student, but had fallen into a trap Hara’s kin often do; Loving a maiden from the waves. Sorry, mister of the waves. While preparing food for the fey, in the back room, Hara got to over hear Rah, and his true love, Fish Prince Broc. Hara spied on everyone who came into the conservatory, in order to protect the fey and students.

“The selkie your mother made, which you suggested to her; I think she’s actually infatuated with our witchery teacher.” Rah said. He was charming the small pearly cuttle Kraken in the fountain. Hara perked up at the word Selkie.

“Oh, yeah. He’s probably going to love her back. Selkies often suffer from Stockholm’s syndrome, so it’s nice to see a little sister find actual true love; Instead of being kidnapped.” Broc smiled. Hara was too busy in school for seal gawking, back home. Rah and Broc’s conversation was making him nostalgic. As if the distant tune of proverbial bagpipes, was calling him hither.

“Now that you’re my queen in waiting, and the wolf kingdom fell into disrepair, I worry for my mother.” Broc continued. “She always frequents the Day Veil of men, but now mages have made the Beast King’s more willing to see view humanity in person. I doubt people will take kindly to a ghostly giant mermaid, or bewitchingly radiant maiden. I don’t want to be Fish King so soon. I will worry for all my new daughters, while I mourn my Mother and little siblings.” Broc said. Rah hugged Broc, to comfort him.

“I’m sorry I’m too young to be queen of a fey kingdom yet. I worry I’d be a bad fish Dad; No one can top your father Lyra… Besides; your mother, father, and family are very well loved. It would be a tragedy to all who adore the water’s fair folk. I can’t imagine life without ocean fey. All beautifully crafted, and sweet of song.” Rah said. He was getting sad, which was unusual. The two of then gazed into the pool of miniature kraken, nuzzled together like gannets.

Hara slumped. Imagining the world with fewer fey, was a chilling thought to someone who spent their life learning about and helping them. The thought that the bays of Isfisceard, could no longer echo with the haunting melody of the fish children, seemed unnatural. The ocean would have no song, no feminine beauty, and no more wonder. Hara considered if he had taken it all for granted. Rah’s words made him think of home, and all it’s verdant cliffside isles. Home would be nothing without the Sirens on the oddly formed sea walls, mermaids in the rivers and glens, selkies on the beaches, or krakens listening in the deep. The smell of sea salt, vibrancy of the hills, wool of sheep and music of home. Hara wilted at the thought of all that vanishing. It made him feel like life was short, and that he wanted to see it all again. The fey of the fish kingdom, were the ones that inspired him to study and conserve fey. They taught him he was a mage, and how to interact with the world of magic. Hara wanted to experience that again. All of this in the span of the ten minutes it took to pour milk into little labeled saucers for the pixies.

After the school day was done, Hara went to his dorm, to see his dragon princess trying to cuddle Woodwick. Hara had become a queen in waiting himself, but to the Dragon Kingdom; Fleoganan was his true love. She was an optimistic idiot. Which is an underappreciated quality in people. Hara’s heart filling with love when embracing her, combined with a day’s brooding, reminded him that his family hadn’t met Fleog yet. They had already shared the undying true love’s spell, and Grandpa knew nothing of it. Then Hara saw Woodwick, innocently preparing for tomorrow’s lessons. Woodwick also remined Hara of home; He was technically Hara’s adoptive uncle. Woodwick was one of the last two fountain nymphs, which grandfather had found on a black market. These Naiads turned the flowing pools they bathed in, into water that could heal any wound. Yet, Woodwick’s dream was to be human; And due to his value, grandpa adopted Woodwick, and kept his identity secret. This gave Woodwick his dream, by fooling everyone. Nymphs can be very convincingly human. In fact, the unpublished research grandpa Firepot left to Hara, on Woodwick’s desire for humanness, helped Hara conserve local fey.  It gave common folk, including wizards, empathy towards fey, similar to mages.

When Woodwick and Hara first met, it was on a road trip to the family beach home. They spent time packed into a hot car, after being picked up at the Main Northland Station. Their little home was in the middle of nowhere, as Isfisceard was an isolated heritage village, by the Fish Gate into the Shadow Veil of fey. The small house was on a sandy beach, along the main road into the cove. South of the magic academy and village, west of the train station. Hara was not fooled by his grandfather’s insistence that Woodwick was just a tween he adopted. Hara, though a child, was an avid seer mage; He knew a fairy when he saw one. Hara never asked why Grandpa adopted a fey, and never mentioned that he knew. Woodwick had just become a normal member of his family.

It was official; Hara missed his. He hadn’t seen his grandfather, or parents, since he graduated and arrived in Pepperidge. Hara decided he wanted to visit home, the next chance he got.

“Woodwick, I want to go home for the semester break; Want to come? Fleog, you have to meet my family.” Hara chimed.

“I’m not particularly interested.” Woodwick said. “Then again, it would make your grandfather very happy.”

“I can’t believe your not homesick. I keep forgetting that under all that professor, is a fairy.” Hara sighed. Woodwick as a fey, lived a timeless state with no opinions of past or future. Missing something, would require opinions regarding the past.

“Well, now that I know seeking a familiar face is human thing, I may consider myself persuaded.” Woodwick responded. He wanted to be human, and was very assertive about it. There was a time he was also convinced he was a real boy, and not some changeling. He was focusing too much on the words, and not enough of the familial aspects. Hara apologized, and made the plans. He felt good about visiting his safe, unchanged, childhood home. That was on a specific abandoned beach, close to the fey of the sea.

NEXT--->

[askkrenko]

Krenko's Guide to Pokemon: Goldeen Line

FUCK YEAH SEAKING!  Or, you know, fuck no is more like it.

DESIGN:

Goldeen is a goldfish. Not one of those cheap carnival goldfish, but one of those high-quality, properly-bred Chinese goldfish that's actually pretty and interesting. Goldeen also has a horn because... reasons. It's possible it's tied to the Hindu Matsya, who is sometimes depicted as a golden fish with a horn, but this is Pokemon so lots of things have horns. Goldeen isn’t a particularly unique design, but it's very pretty, so it's well known for that.

Seaking, on the other hand, is a blob. It's still a goldfish, but it's just ugly looking, with a splotchy appearance, unflattering colors, and a stupid mouth with tiny fangs. Seaking is undesirable and looks stupid.

Let me break for a storytime: Years ago I was in a freeform Pokemon RP. One thing you'll see a lot of in freeform Pokemon RP is that people will just happen to have Shiny pokemon, and it'll always be something super special and super cool, and just happen to be their favorite Pokemon. After enough people had done this with that obvious hint of 'look how cool and special my Pokemon is' I decided to have my character catch a shiny, too. He got a Seaking. He made a point, in nearly every conversation he had for the rest of my time in that RP group, of offering to trade his Shiny Seaking. There were no takers. Because Seaking is hideous and awful and nobody wants one.

EVOLUTIONS:

Goldeen evolves into Seaking at 33, which is honestly... late.  Like, really late for something Seaking's size. It's especially noticable in normal gameplay, because Magikarp evolves so early, Psyduck evolves at the same level, and even Krabby evolves five levels earlier, all of which have noticably stronger evolutions. Even worse, in RBG or their remakes, you're going to use Seaking for only a few levels before someone just outright hands you a Lapras, an all around better Pokemon.

Art by PeregrineJazmin

And then Seaking's done. Now, sure, 450 isn't an unreasonable stat total for a fully evolved Pokemon, but it's also not too high for a Pokemon to get another evolution, and definitely not too high for a Mega Evolution.

On a related note, a pre-evolution for Goldeen was cut from RBG and then cut again from GS. This is fine. A lower form of Goldeen might have some use early game, but not that much. Goldeen's about the same size as a starter as is.

Art by Rachel Briggs

TYPING:

Water is a good defensive type, sure, but it's also a type with a lot of competition. Water is the most common type, and even just counting single-type water Pokemon, there's a ton of competition.  Even in Gen 1, it had to compete with Golduck, Kingler, Seadra, Vaporeon, and Blastoise, and that's not even counting the TEN other fully-evolved Pokemon that were water and something else.

STATS:

As a fully evolved Pokemon with 450 base stats, Seaking could theoretically be weak but useful... if it had a stat distribution worth noting. Instead, its best attack is a lackluster 92 attack, and everything else is an average 80 or below. Stats that are pretty evenly spread out only works if they're all decent stats. Seaking's just bad at everything, and an above-average attack still winds up being bad when compared to other Pokemon whose best stats are attack.

Art by Inosuke-0101 

ABILITIES:

Water Veil makes Seaking immune to the Burn status effect which is... not really relevant. Burn's a real effect, sure, but it's a corner case here, and being immune to burn doesn’t actually open up strategies.

Swift Swim is an ability I've spoken of fondly in the past, and it's still good here if you can set up the rain. This, of course, means a very specific type of team Seaking can go on... and also runs into the problem of 'there's plenty of other Pokemon with Swift Swim who are better.'

Seaking's best ability is, without a doubt, its Hidden Ability Lightning Rod. Trading out a weakness to Electric attacks for immunity (plus the ability to protect its partner from Electricity in a double battle) seriously spikes its survivability.  Any competitive Seaking, as much as that's a thing, is going to want Lightning Rod.

Art by thewrabbithole

MOVES:

Did you know that before becoming an HM with a use outside of battle, Waterfall was Seaking's signature attack? Seaking's only primary attack options are Waterfall and Aqua Tail, and while Aqua Tail is very barely stronger on average, Seaking's speed isn't so low that Waterfall's flinches aren't a factor. Both are viable options, with Waterfall getting better if your specific Seaking is faster.

Seaking's other big attack optin is Megahorn. Though its accuracy leaves a bit to be desired, its damage is on par with STAB Waterfall, and it'll be more effective against Dragon, Grass, Water, Dark, and Psychic enemies.

Though not huge or special, Drill Run provides a solid hit that's super-effective against Steel, Poison, and Electric. Combined with Lightning Rod, this makes Seaking a surprising counter to the Electric type.

For a fourth move, the right option is the new move Flip Turn. While not as quite as strong as Waterfall, it switches Seaking out, allowing you to put in a Pokemon that's significantly better.

Art by Shoxxe and boy-wolf

OVERALL:

Seaking is bad. It's a physical attacker without great STAB moves, its abilities are solid but not enough to actually help it win fights, and its stats are too evenly spread to be good at anything. It's not quite as down there as some things- there are some fully evolved Pokemon with stat totals below 400- but it's definitely all around weak.

If Seaking didn't have so much competition, I'd be looking at it more favorably... but it does. It's an ugly Pokemon that has no niche except maybe catching Thunderbolts in doubles. I'd say it needs a new evolution, but I don't actually like it enough to think it deserves that much.

...And maybe I'm being harsher to it than I should be, I just really hate this fish for some reason.

Art by JoshuaDunlop

[covrtofnightmares]

&&. cauldron above, ( laurent morningstar ) was just spotted in the fae lands — word has it ( he ) is affiliated with ( the day court ). ( he ) is a ( 450 / appears 34 ) year old ( half wild hunt / half high fae ). it’s been said that ( he ) resembles ( charles michael davis ). ( he ) has been said to be ( charismatic & seductive ) but also quite ( cunning & cruel ). ( he ) is currently serving as ( the day court spymaster ).

— ❝ fine. make me your villain.❞

name: laurent wolfgang morningstar

birthday: october 31 | scorpio

scent: white ginger, basil flower, bergamot, cedar, violet leaves, haiti vetiver, coconut, and hibiscus + ( SIGNATURE COLOGNE: l’homme - yves saint laurent )

appearance:  standing at 6′2″, laurent is known for his large, fit frame; with broad shoulders and a body honed from countless centuries of fighting and preserving himself, laurent is well aware not just of his preserving his body, but of how attractive he is to others. an alpha in the broadest sense of the word, laurent is noticeable for his cheshire grin and sharp, inquisitive gaze. he may look like a sweet, suave high faerie from legends of yore, but he’s a ruthless ancient who doesn’t mind tearing others down if they stand in his way. his physical appearance often serves as a lure for unsuspecting fae and humans who become ensnared in his web. he tends to keep short, groomed facial hair and a shaved head more often than note.

personality:  ( + ) charismatic, seductive, intelligent, intuitive ( - ) cunning, cruel, untrustworthy, proud

current familial / relationship status: laurent has one younger half-brother, with whom he has a horrible relationship with. his estranged relationship with lucien is the only true blood relation he has left, and while laurent knows he should care more about preserving it, there’s just something about watching the wolf king burn that thrills the day court’s spymaster.

biography: laurent morningstar was the product of a passionate love affair between the daughter of the wild hunt and one of the day court’s most prestigious, influential tradesmen. laurent’s patriarchal lineage dated back centuries prior to the summer court, but the morningstars have been a part of the day court so long it is an integral part of both their blood and magical affinities. laurent considers himself a day court high fae above all else; it’s the cultural upbringing he was most exposed to and the one his father has instilled into him for years. 

though laurent’s parents loved each other, they had a very volatile relationship--political affairs kept them apart above all else, so when laurent’s father, killian, received pressure from his own parents to devote himself fully to the day court and laurent’s mother, jade, began to take her role in the wild hunt as an heiress more seriously, there was a great rift in his small family. though laurent could shapeshift, the same as any graced member of the wild hunt, his wings and most of his magical attributes hailed from his father, and so laurent was sent to live primarily with killian morningstar in the day court. it was a pivotal moment in young laurent’s life: one that shaped the rest of his immortality...and the fate of his relationship with his family, as well.

laurent shuffled back and forth between his parents, living primarily with his father, but never felt wholly connected to the pack of the wild hunt. laurent became accustomed to his life, but a part of him always believed--or foolishly hoped, perhaps--that his parents would be able to reconcile their differences and marry. so when jade nightborne mated with the wild hunt’s leading general and bore his child, laurent was devastated. he had little to no reason to resent his mother’s new husband or his half-brother, but laurent couldn’t help the resentment he felt. killian remained unmarried, and laurent constantly worried that news of jade’s marriage to a man her family and the wild hunt approved of would shatter his father’s self-esteem. and as jade raised lucien in the night court, laurent withdrew emotionally from his mother and drew closer to his father. he was a young adult, by immortal standards, but he couldn’t shake the sense that something was wrong.

he belonged to both the wild hunt and the day court--so why did it feel like he only fit in with one? why did it feel like he would never connect with his mother’s family and court--not truly?

the role of a crown prince--or a wolf king, as the wild hunt called it--didn’t particularly appeal to laurent. he felt that his strengths did not lie in leading a country diplomatically, but in other manners. as his younger half-brother, lucien, grew up, the two proved to be opposites in almost every single manner. their mannerisms and behaviors were vastly different from one another; where lucien was all fire, laurent was ice. where lucien had the strength and determination of a stone cold warrior and leader, laurent was a silver-tongued serpent who got what he wanted by taking it, by whatever means necessary. as the morningstar and nightborne brothers grew older, their estranged relationship with one another only solidified. their mother, jade, wished desperately that her two sons would have the close relationship she had always envisioned for them. lucien, to his credit, attempted to get along with laurent; but in the end, the brothers were too different.

there were too many unspoken things that settled between them, creating tension thick enough to cut with a knife. they grew into two entirely different men--while lucien went off to learn the duties of a ruler, laurent worked his way up the ranks of the day court, earning the trust of the royal families and inner court. working as a spy for the day court, laurent often seduced, sweet-talked, and bribed his way into the beds, hearts, and minds of others. he cared little for the feelings of others--they were but stepping stones along the path of success, and laurent held no qualms about destroying anyone who held him from what he wanted. naturally charismatic and silver-tongued, laurent was a persuasive high faerie, often utilizing his looks and speech in order to wrench what he wanted from his targets. and if they failed to supply him with information of their own accord, then, well, that was what his hallucinations and illusion-based magic was for, wasn’t it? eventually, laurent’s skill and prowess gained him the coveted position of the spymaster within the day court. it was a position laurent didn’t take lightly; his loyalty to the day court was already much stronger, in his own mind, than the link he had to the wild hunt as an heir to the throne.

things came to blows, finally, between laurent and lucien when the wolf king discovered that his elder brother was spying on the wild hunt. laurent seduced his brother’s favorite lover, using his charm to will information out of her, and sat back and watched as the woman, poisoned by laurent morningstar’s words, turned her back not just on lucien nightborne, but the entirety of the wild hunt, and sought a world outside of the walls of the garden and the wild hunt. she defected to the day court for a short period of time, where laurent had little use of his brother’s discarded plaything, and eventually sent her packing. he was a cold, callous, manipulative creature--one who, evidently, held little regard for the kingdom which was rightfully his by blood. but no, the wild hunt had chosen lucien--a warrior bred purposefully for the throne.

if jealousy and rage burned within laurent, it was nothing compared to his brother. lucien’s rage was an eternal flame, burning brighter with each betrayal, and the two brothers came to physical blows worse than the wild hunt had ever known. their fight was catastrophic, leaving behind singed trees and craters in the earth from where their bodies had slammed into the ground during combat. it was a raw and brutal fight, one that left both brothers scarred, and resulted in lucien exiling laurent from the wild hunt. and so laurent morningstar became the lost prince, exiled from his kingdom and forced to watch his brother wear a crown that had never been offered to laurent in the first place.

laurent still serves the day court faithfully, and his relationship with lucien is estranged at best. with the new alliances blossoming over the horizon, laurent is more curious than ever to see how the tides of war will work in his favor. and should they choose not to cooperate, well, he will simply will them to. the fight is just beginning, and the eldest heir of the wild hunt has no intentions of backing down.

after all, you should see me in a crown.

affinity: shapeshifter with ties to the earth and nature; illusion-based / hallucination magic

wings: laurent’s wings are a shimmering gold, reflective of the day court’s coveted golden city; reflective of the strength of the day court. as his wings have always been closely linked to the day court, he often stands out among those in the wild hunt. to laurent, his wings are just another symbol of the path in life he has chosen.

[drowningsongsrp]

These are the Canons from our first subplot Founding Families.

Faces can be mixed and matched and are not necessarily bound by what’s suggested here. If you have specific ideas for the character, feel free to reach out to an admin to talk through, we’re happy to be flexible and help brainstorm.

We do not permit whitewashing of any of the canons listed here. Please keep this in mind when choosing a FC that is not suggested below.

THE WOLFF FAMILY

Eleonora Wolff  Deceased ᐧ NPC 

ELEAONORA WOLFF was one of the last remaining true believers, who sustained a practice of feeding THE ABYSS through rituals, even when its demands became greater. Tourists were chosen and stolen away to become its annual offerings. Eleonora called them ‘sacrifices’ whereas others saw them for what they were: murders. As THE ABYSS grew hungrier than she could ever feed alone, she made one last offering by walking herself into the cold sea. Eleonora left one child behind, a daughter born out of an affair with a PENEWAIT man – LIANA PENEWAIT. The child was raised by the Penewaits after Eleonora’s own family disowned her.

FC: Helen Mirren

Emanuel Wolff  54 ᐧ Taken by Lina 

A disappointment, the odd one out. Emanuel was soft, yielding, and therefore weaker in their aloof eyes. He took a shine to the seas and steep lands around them, learning all that he could of Alderhelm. Their world seemed so great and so small all at once, and he wanted to document what he could. In doing so, he learned the unpleasant truth of their legacy, and of the town’s strange occurrences. As a young man he fell in love, as one is bound to do, and had a daughter. Emanuel was left to raise her on his own, much to the shame of his parents but even more so to his own delight. 

FC: Mads Mikkelsen

—- Wolff  early 30s ᐧ Open

Her dad kept her safely out of the corrupting influences of their family tree, keeping their gnarled branches from coming too close. It never did leave her fearful, only aware. The town was built on blood-soaked sand and she was determined to see it get its comeuppance. On most days, she can be found organizing protesters and leading pickets outside of town hall. It is vital to her to use her own privilege, and so what if it gets a little out of hand sometimes? A night or two in lock-up is a small price to pay.

Suggested FCs: Rebecca Ferguson, Keira Knightley, Haley Bennett

—- Wolff  50s ᐧ Open

It’s true what they say about apples and not falling very far from the rotten tree. It would seem he has some of the fallen patriarch of the family under his skin. He’s not as cruel or brutal as his predecessor but just as callous and greedy. He can never have enough, always wanting his reach to be wider and deeper. He runs the OLDE ALDER HOTEL with a strong grip and steers the family to even greater riches. Sometimes his hand slips, taking money where it shouldn’t (read: embezzlement). It’s alright, though, he stands sure as the husband of the Mayor and when the dusk settles he dons the cloak of a Son of the Sea alum.

Suggested FCs: Oliver Masucci, Rufus Sewell

—- Wolff  Early 50s ᐧ Open

The Mayor of Alderhelm, at least for the past two years. She is a local; born and bred in the salty air of The Dregs. Came from a heap of penniless nothing and clawed her way to the top where she now stands as a Wolff, scoping out a view she is unlikely to let slip from her grasp. For someone who has only left the town limits a handful of times, she carries herself as a well-travelled, learned woman. Some claim it’s all surface-level, but her cunning mind and articulate tongue say different. 

An key facet of the Mayor is that she has a vision for the town, though the nature of this vision is open and flexible. Perhaps she very opposed to THE KING FAMILY’s new reign, feeling they’re threatening all she’s worked for to get where she is or maybe she admires them. Perhaps she decides to work with them and, if she does, perhaps she’s secretive about it with her husband/his family. Or maybe she’s playing both sides, waiting to see who comes out on top. Whether she upholds and attempts to maintain/strengthen the Wolff name or is secretively plotting against it is up to the player of her and her husband. She also has ties to THE PENEWAIT FAMILY given that she grew up in the Dregs.

Suggested FCs: Rachel Weisz, Christy Turlington, Uma Thurman

—- Wolff  Late 20s ᐧ Open

What are they if not the dried up husk of their father’s daydreams? Unlike the rest of their family, they were born into a feeling of uncertainty. Father taught them the importance of maintaining a unified front and not letting the public see you slip. They took that, bottled it up, and drank it until they couldn’t see where they began and their father’s idealized first born ended. They followed him closely, learning about the secrets of the business and the funds father pocketed for himself. Eventually, they were asked to leave town to get more investors for Father’s embezzlement scheme only to fail miserably. Now they have returned home, cloaked in their father’s disappointment and attempting to carve out a new identity for themselves.

Suggested FCs: Bill Skarsgård, Imogen Poots, Andreea Diaconu

Cordelia Wolff  23 ᐧ Reserved for Darc

CORDELIA WOLFF is every bit a wolf in sheep’s clothing. As the youngest, she grew up like a cankerous lullaby with all of Alderhelm as her playground. For most of her life, she has been dangerously underestimated. Though the girl looks like a daydream, she’s more nightmarish, sinister, and ruthless than she seems. Cordelia is presently attending Alderhelm College and majoring in finance. She is also a legacy member of the shadowy secret student society THE SONS OF THE SEA and may or may not have a thing for drowning.

FC: Andrea Madlova

*

THE PENEWAIT FAMILY

—- Penewait 40s ᐧ Open

Often regarded as more brawn than brains, he is his brother’s right hand man and can almost always be relied upon to get his hands dirty. Once he had been widely admired for his adventurous and at times reckless sailing abilities, his boat among the first to be seen in the morning and the last to dock at night. 

However, sometime in the last 10 years, he was involved in a shipping accident that not only marred his relationship with the sea, but left him a little unstable: prone to violence and quick to anger. If money is owed, he’s the wolf sent to retrieve it; him and/or any of his droogs at the docks.

Suggested FCs: Zahn McClarnon, Alex Meraz

—- Penewait 35-40 ᐧ Open 

Unlike his siblings, he is a very calm and observant man, showcasing his wit and ruthlessness to anyone who threatens him or his family. He has been instrumental in the success of the family business. He is widely respected among the community and seen as a dangerous foe by his enemies. Dissatisfied with the size of the Penewait empire and concerned about the legacy they will leave behind, he has begun playing his hand at relatively small, organised crime. In particular, he has drawn the family into pushing drugs, particularly weed, cocaine, pills, and meth. He has been known to use or leverage those closest to him in order to achieve his goals, believing that the ends justify the means. 

Suggested FCs: Gerald Tokala Clifford, Martin Sensmeier

—- Penewait Mid-late 30s ᐧ Reserved for Therese 

She idolizes the Family moniker and their image and reputation amongst town. Not only is she a formidable business woman, having worked for several years covering the family’s finances, but she has also been widely noted in the local community for her beauty and charm. It has been said that she could ensnare a person with just one glance. And while she is more good humored than her brothers, she maintains the infamous family temper. She handles the books and balances the family ledger to ensure their criminal dealings are untraceable.

Suggested FCs: Julia Jones, Q'orianka Kilcher

—- Penewait Early 20s ᐧ Reserved for Cyl 

As the youngest of the Penewait siblings, it seems he has spent his life looking up at closed doors or catching the tail ends of hushed conversations. His family has always made it a priority to shield him from the worst of their actions. And as a result, he’s developed a bit of a ‘devil may care’ attitude toward the business, enjoying the limited Alderhelm “luxuries” it affords him. 

Suggested FCs: Haatepah Clearbear, Forrest Goodluck, Boo Boo Stewart

—- Penewait  Early 30s ᐧ Reserved for Asteria

The love child of Eleonora Wolff and a Penewait man. She spent her formative years raised by her eccentric mother after her mother was disowned by The Wolffs. However, as her mother’s fixation with The Abyss grew, so did the Penewaits concern for her, and she eventually moved in with the rest of the family and raised alongside her cousins. She has a complex relationship with her mother and, until recently, maintained a cynical attitude toward The Abyss. 

Following her mother’s death and the disbanding of her cult, she has begun looking into ways to reassemble them, as a means to finally understand her mother and honor her memory.

—- Penewait Early 20s ᐧ Reserved for Shayne 

Somewhat estranged cousin, they grew up away from the family and the spoils of the Penewait “empire”. They are an excellent mathematician, even earning themselves a place at Alderhelm College.

And though they are relatively new to the town, their ambition is clear. They have already begun working their way up the ranks of the family business, and can often be found shadowing their cousins and trying to prove their worth.

Suggested FCs: Amber Midthunder, Audreyana Michelle

*

THE KING FAMILY

—- King 50s-60s ᐧ Open

As head of the family, he is determined to do right by the people around him. After losing his wife and teenaged son to a car accident shortly after arriving in Alderhelm, he has since thrown himself into his work as a distraction. Family is important to him, and he holds some varied feelings for some of his siblings, as they are not as serious about the family endeavor as he is. 

Very much becoming overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the revitalization project, the weird occurrences in town have only helped to exacerbate his frustrations. His guilt around surviving the accident has especially begun to turn into blame against the town that he’s committed himself to saving.

Suggested FCs: Mahershala Ali, Orlando Jones, Laurence Fishburne

—- King 50s to 60s ᐧ Open

She has long since committed to the success of her family, especially when it comes to her best friend and older brother. Two halves of the same whole, she is very outspoken where her brother is deliberate, more confrontational where her brother exercises patience. But a sour life of being overshadowed by her brother in her early years and her sister later in life has hardened her heart. As an adult, she manages to maintain her temper and composure but can often come off as cold and unyielding, especially when her vast intelligence is challenged. 

With the reappearance of her younger sister, she is once again being overshadowed and has taken to working at the local hospital to keep the distance between her and her sister and, as a result, keep the peace.

Suggested FCs: Gina Torres, Naomi Campbell

Theodora King Early-mid 30s ᐧ Reserved for Grim

Determined to take the reins, she was deemed a queen from birth. She was a headstrong child with little interest in her much older siblings and has a dwindling patience for those who have come after her. A Harvard graduate, she worked for years in politics as a campaign manager in Washington DC, but after a bad affair with alcohol and bribery, lost her credibility, job, Congressman fiance, and was pushed out of the circles she’d strived so hard to form. 

She has since returned to her family in an effort to find a place for herself again. Presently, she combats the eldest sibling in regards to control and tends to bait her older sister into confrontations by playing off her jealousies and insecurities. But despite all of her flaws, she is an effective political ally. Overseeing her family’s image and relationship with the mayor and the town, she has decided to be her brother’s lackey just long enough to force him out of his position and take over the family business, even if that means dabbling in illegal and illicit businesses to make it happen.

FC: Laura Harrier

—- King Late 20s ᐧ Reserved for Tea

The rebel without a cause, he fights his family at every turn and is the most outspoken against the revitalization project. While there is good in the cause, most of what he sees is the negative effects that could befall the community. Prone to brooding and bouts of sadness, he will come out of his shell for causes that he deems truly good for all involved. But his rejection of his family’s ideals are a hindrance to the cause, as he thinks of himself as a hero with an unwavering moral compass, saving the people from yet another powerful family that will do them wrong. 

Suggested FCs: Lakeith Stanfield, Trevante Rhodes, Nathan Stewart-Jarrett, The Weeknd

—- King 20s ᐧ Reserved for Olivia

The youngest sibling, but hardly ever forgotten about. Their older siblings coddle them at every turn, forcing them away from their lavish life in the big city in exchange for the middle of nowhere. A bit of a tech sleuth, they have worked hard toward the interests of his family by digging up dirt on the Wolff and Penewait families that can be used as leverage to push out their older, more conservative regimes. 

But at the heart of it, they are bored and missing their lavish life in the city. So they’ve taken to organizing a start-up on the side with a few friends to break away from the family name and to create a legacy of their own, far away from Alderhelm.

Suggested FCs: Sharon Alexie, Rachide Embalo, Amandine Guihard, Ashton Sanders, Duckie Thot

[morganas-pendragons]

I’m Running To You | B.B.

Before you fade from me. 

This will have minor and major Endgame spoilers. You were warned. 

I’m really only writing Bucky for @buckychrist now, so this is for you hayley

00000000000

He knows it’s not right from the first time he arrives at your door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Sunflowers. The amount of heart that he intentionally puts into your relationship is unlike any of the relationships he had before he fell. He shouldn’t pursue you, but he does. He chases you harder then he’s ever chased anyone, and Bucky is one hundred percent anticipating smacking his face against the ground in the process. He’s anticipating falling, 

No. You... You are everything Bucky has been searching for since waking up in the ice. HYDRA had drilled it into his brain from the start - a mantra on repeat in his mind - Unworthy, unloved, bred for war and stained in the blood of millions. A ruthless killing machine incapable of feeling loved. Of being loved. 

You had taken his broken form, malleable in your hands, and crafted him into this remarkable man he almost didn’t recognize when he glanced in the mirror. And when he looked at you, oh he knew. Bucky knew you were proud of your creation and proud of him for learning that he could stand on his own feet. That he could be his own man. 

That didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified of losing you, though. Terrified of how his heart would betray him when you inevitably died before his eyes, or died by his own hand. 

What a nightmare that would be. 

2018

Dated for two years, married just a few weeks ago, and now here the two of you stood side by side in arms against the forces of Thanos. You were human - simply mortal - and without any skills like his own. You didn’t have serum flowing through your blood like he and Steve did. You weren’t a genius like Bruce and Tony, but he learned quick after meeting you in 2016 that you were more then capable with a weapon. 

  After the Compound had dove into chaos, you’d parted from Steve and Sams side in frantic search of Bucky. The two of you had only met weeks before in the slums of Bucharest, when you’d caught him rifling through his jacket for money to purchase his plums. He was sweet, and your heart ached to provide for him. 

He just didn't know how much of an influence you’d have. 

You gripped his hand in your own and lead him through the alleys that provided cover for your apartment. It was a one bedroom, one bath, but surely big enough for you and your newest acquaintance. He’d been reluctant. You had to reassure him that no one would find you here, and that he’d be safe. 

That was a word he very rarely heard anymore. Safe. 

Bucky told you about The Soldier from the first night, and made it abundantly clear that you were to not get in his way if HYDRA ever reactivated him with his trigger words. 

  “I don’t think you get it, James.” You whispered, caressing his cheekbones with the back of your hand. “No matter how much he’d want to, I don’t think The Soldier would be able to hurt me.” 

You are still the only person he’s never physically harmed. The Soldier succumbs to the tenderness in your words, the soft gaze of your eyes, and he’s ready to comply to whatever you say because you are and were the only human being who sought to never harm him. 

  “Why’s that doll?” 

  “Because in the end, he only wants a home for his aching heart.” 

You found him rather easily, but it took some coaxing for The Soldier to believe you were not a threat. It was only after you kicked your gun across the room that he chose to believe you, and then Steve came barging in and well - We all know what happened there. 

The point is, he’d never hurt you. And you thought he never would.. not up until the two of you were together in Wakanda. Upon hearing that Shuri Udaku, a mere sixteen year old, was capable of removing HYDRAS brainwashing from Bucky’s mind - you almost forced him into doing it. It required extensive cryosleep, but if it meant there was a possibility of a future, you’d take it. 

  “Will you be here when I wake up, doll?” 

Your lips quirked upward in a smile as the cryo-chamber slowly began to close, and you rested your hand against the lid. Bucky had been particularly skilled in the art of reading lips, and so you murmured, “Until I fade from you.” 

You’d fallen in love with him. Gradually, slowly over time, but he’d stolen you alot quicker then you’d been anticipating. 

Bucky came out cryo in late 2017, early 2018, but you’d put off marrying each other until he was comfortable with himself. The two of you lived in Wakandas country side and tended to the fields, meditated together, took charge of the children for the other tribes together. It was the closest thing you’d get to a future. 

T’Challa came to you in the early days of summer, dressed to the nines in his regal robes, and very politely asked if you wanted a wedding. You were so stunned by the question that it was hard not to say yes. 

  “I’m sorry.. what did you say?” 

T’Challa smiled at your shock and flexed his fingers. “It seems my sister has not kept quiet about your relations with our White Wolf, and so she has convinced our mother and the Dora to prepare a ceremony. Traditionally Wakandan, of course. I’m here to see if you’d accept.” 

Of course you’d accept. It would’ve been ridiculous not to. 

The ceremony was held in the most beautiful part of the city. You wore the best dress they could provide, which was a marvel in itself, and donned the most beautiful wedding rings you could’ve asked for. There was joy and laughter and song. No one left disappointed.

You went home to your tent that night as Mrs. Bucky Barnes. It was less then a month later when he came back again and asked for the two of you to fight, and now here you stood in the ruins of the Wakandan outskirts with Steve Rogers by your side. 

It was deathly silent. 

  “Well, is that it? Did we-” The word win lingers on your tongue, and somewhere deep inside of you, you know there was a price to be paid. “Steve?” 

You realize about 2.5 seconds later that Bucky also simultaneously said the name of the other super-soldier, and your happiness is short lived when the man you love turns to dust right in front of your very eyes. 

And then it’s silent again. Silence in the air, silent in your mind, until you begin comprehending the reality of what has just happened: Bucky Barnes is dead. He faded from you before you could catch him.

That’s when you start screaming. 

2023

It’d been 5 years since “The Snap” and learning how to adjust to a life without Bucky is the hardest thing you’d ever done. You had buried yourself into taking care of the other Avengers who still lived in the compound. It granted a distraction for a little while, but then you were right back at the beginning. Mourning over Bucky. 

Natasha took it upon herself to send you out to Tony. Given that he didn’t live in the Compound any more and instead sought out solace in the country with his daughter and wife, she thought it was the best place for you to find peace.

What you found instead was two of your current best friends and the best god-daughter you could’ve asked for. 

  “Y/N!” Morgan eagerly pulled on your jeans as you looked over the prints for the machine beside Tony. It had been a few days since Natasha and Steve had left him alone with his daughter after the proposition of traveling through the quantum realm to receive the stones. The only logical way to get your husband and the others back. “Daddy says you like to sing.” 

  “Your daddy is a liar, Morgan-” 

  “But he said you used to sing to him all the time!” 

You hadn’t sang a note since Bucky had died. You’d lost your voice when he'd gone, and you weren’t planning on getting it back. “Okay, sweet girl. Just cause you’re my favorite Stark, I’ll sing you one of my favorites. Are you okay with that?” 

Morgan Stark was a precious, precious girl. A girl who’d get to grow up with her father and would know the story of the woman who had died to save the world. 

You gently tucked the youngest Stark into her bed and propped yourself up at her side, fingers carding through her hair as you began to sing, “And the blood will dry.. underneath my nails..” 

You’d found him in the aftermath of the battle. Everyone was there - all those who had faded before - ready to face the threat of Thanos and his armies. The gauntlet was missing in action, away from the hands of the Titan, but the only way to resolve the issue was to snap. 

And up until the last five minutes, you were sure it was going to be Tony. Tony, who would have sacrificed worlds if it meant that Pepper and Morgan were safe. Tony, who had been held captive by his own demons and forced to face his mistakes time and time again. Tony was not the one who was meant to sacrifice himself for the greater good of the world. He had too much to lose, too much to live for.

  “And the wind will rise up to fill my sails...” 

Thanos had snapped his fingers, and nothing happened. It wasn’t until he turned around and looked at you - a human who had done nothing special - that he realized his fate. You wielded the gauntlet, rage coursing through your blood stream and determination flashing in your eyes before you said, “I am.. worthy.” 

Worthy. Worth. The one thing Bucky had never thought he had, or that he was deserving of. Funny how it’s the minuscule details that come to mind when you’re dying. 

 “I’m coming home... I’m coming home..” 

Keeping your eyes open proved to be difficult. The entire right side of your body had lost feeling almost as soon as you’d snapped, and you knew when the other Avengers came to surround you that this was it. You’d sacrificed yourself for them to get their happy ending. 

But you weren't gonna get yours, and neither was he.

  “Tell the world I’m coming home.. let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday..”

Steve gently pressed his thumb against the earpiece tucked into his ear as Tony maneuvered you into his arms. “Bucky,’’ He said quietly. “Follow Mjolnir. Hurry.” The super soldier rose his arm and used the hammer as a flag while Bucky hurriedly sought him out. What he wasn’t anticipating was the consequence of whoever had snapped. 

You. 

  “Y/N? Y/N!” You can’t move. Your lungs are deflating, barely taking in air, but it’s just enough to keep your eyes open long enough to see your husband come crashing down at your feet. Chasing you, as he always had been. “What-Stark, can you-” 

Tony shook his head as he loosened his grip on your form. There is no hope for a cure. You’d taken that gauntlet very well knowing the consequences of it, of what you were to lose. You just didn’t think you’d miss him more after he came back home. 

  “We can’t fix her, Barnes.” Tony replied. “This is.. It’s permanent.” 

 “And though my kingdom awaits, and they’ve forgiven my mistakes..” 

  “James.” It’s all you could manage, but it was just enough for Bucky to look up at your face. Despite the pain radiating through your bones and the lack of air your lungs were inhaling.. You looked oddly at peace with yourself. 

Bucky swallowed the knot growing in his throat as he took your hand. “It’s-It’s okay, doll. I’m gonna be okay. We’re all gonna be okay.” His metal arm slowly rose until his fingers came in contact with your cheek, and he cursed his inability to feel your skin beneath his fingers. “You’ve spent so much time taking care of me.. showing me I was a better man then what HYDRA turned me into. You’ve done your work, soldier. And don’t forget, never forget how much I loved you-” 

  “I’m coming home.. I’m coming home, tell the world I’m coming.. home.” 

It had been rather difficult to keep himself composed in front of you, but Bucky managed to whisper, “Sleep.” just before your eyes fluttered shut and your hand went limp in his own. 

There’s a million things that flash before his eyes at that precise moment - all the lives that never came - and then he realized how silent it was in the aftermath of the battle. Thanos’ armies have been vanquished and they’d won the war, but the silence was deafening. They should’ve been celebrating, for Gods sake-

And then he realizes why it’s so quiet. It’s because they’re mourning you, all the people around him who watched as Tony Stark rose from the Earth and cradled your body in his embrace while Rhodey pried the gauntlet from your arm. Those who stood in the background that had ventured back into the world with him, and those who had been influenced by your kindness and softened heart when you’d been working with the Avengers. 

But then it hits him, when he starts screaming until his voice is raw, that you are dead. Bucky ran and ran and ran after you and the future you were supposed to have, and because he fell flat on his face, his worst nightmare had come true.

Bucky thought learning how to live again would be possible after they’d buried you at Tonys countryside cabin, but when Steve inevitably leaves him as well, it became too overwhelming. He drowned himself in alcohol and home-videos, and his eyes burned as an hour became days of watching the evolution of your relationship unfold on camera. 

And he thinks about the days that never came as the words flow freely from the speakers of his TV. 

  “Oh Sergeant Barnes... I’m running to you before you fade from me.” 

He just hadn’t been fast enough to catch you. 

[luckydoogs]

8 COMMON MYTHS IN DOG TRAINING

Before I delve into the training methods that work, first I’ll shed some light on commonly held misconceptions about dogs to make sure we’re starting on the same page:

Myth #1: Dogs are domesticated wolves, so you need to establish yourself as pack leader. 

Truth: Have you ever heard that the surefire way to be a good dog trainer is to be the “alpha”? I did, years before I became a dog trainer, and even I thought it sounded reasonable at the time: dogs descended from wolves, and wolves supposedly live in hierarchal packs, so it made sense. There’s little to no truth behind this idea. No one is arguing that dogs aren’t descendants of ancient wolves—they certainly are. However, dogs are not wolves, but unique animals predisposed to learn very advanced concepts from human beings. We likely first selectively bred today’s domestic dogs at least fifteen thousand years ago to cohabitate with us, provide companionship, and perform certain tasks such as hunting, herding, or alerting us when a stranger is near. To ignore the human influence in the domestic dog reflects a failure to acknowledge why the modern dog even exists at all. Yet many mainstream dog trainers seem to completely disregard this central point in favor of using methods that undermine the intelligence of our dogs. Also, these trainers are basing their philosophy on an archaic understanding of wolf behavior that has been discredited by researchers who study wolves extensively.  In the 1940s, animal behaviorist Rudolph Schenkel found that when wolves are forced into captivity, they fight for top status or what he referred to as the “alpha.” For decades, this concept reigned in the dog training world, and one of the world’s leading wolf experts, L. David Mech, discussed it extensively in his popular 1970 book. However, thirty years later Mech himself completely refuted the “alpha” wolf concept, so much so that he has pleaded with his publisher to stop printing that previous book. He had found, through his extensive research, that the dog training industry was basing their teachings on a highly artificial situation. Yes, when wolves are randomly placed in confinement together, they do fight for resources; however, that happens only when these animals are in a very unnatural environment. “Wolves in the wild—the wolves that our dogs descended from—get to the top of their pack merely by maturing, mating, and producing offspring,” says Mech. “Leadership roles are simply parental roles. The pack is a family social structure, a lot like human families.”

Myth #2: Domination is the only way to get a dog to listen to you.

Truth: Real teaching is about communication, not domination. Our goal when teaching a dog should be not to make a dog do something by forcing her into submission but to make a dog want to do something. Trying to dominate your dog by yelling at her, flipping her on her back in an “alpha roll,” or using certain collars designed to create discomfort or pain will only greatly hinder both your relationship with your pet and the training process. I know this can be confusing because many well-known trainers promote such dominant techniques. However, what we are really communicating to a dog when we rely on these tools is: “If you do something I don’t like— even if it’s something that comes naturally to you, like walking fast or chasing a squirrel—I’m going to make you uncomfortable.” Such training focuses on teaching what a dog shouldn’t do rather than what she should do. Can these methods be effective? If your definition of “effective” is getting mediocre results, then yes, to some extent they can be. I suppose if I thought I’d experience something unpleasant every time I walked a bit too fast, I’d obey too. But there’s a price to pay for this: your training will not be as effective and enjoyable as it could be for both you and your dog, and such tactics could even undermine your dog’s trust. Furthermore, your dog will not behave consistently when you take those special collars off or don’t use forceful methods. When you rely on an external device to get what you want, it’s simply a crude patch designed to combat the unwanted behavior rather than to emphasize good behavior. And when that patch isn’t there, dogs know the difference and often go right back to the unwanted behavior. It’s as though they think, “Oh, I’m not wearing that unpleasant collar now, so I can do whatever I want.” Some people might argue that while positive training is okay for some breeds, other breeds need forceful, punishment-based training because they are aggressive, powerful dogs. Let me respond to that. First, while some dogs may be more challenging or have aggression issues, that’s definitely not specific to breed. As I explained in chapter 1, the whole idea that certain breeds such as Pit Bulls have violent tendencies is completely false—when you hear stories of such dogs attacking other animals or people, it’s usually because either they have been trained to do so by a human or they have more serious underlying issues. Of course, if you have a larger dog, it’s particularly important to make sure she doesn’t lunge on the leash or jump up on people simply because she can cause more harm than, say, a Yorkie, due to her size. But that applies to any larger dog—from a German Shepherd to a Goldendoodle—and has absolutely nothing to do with breed. Positive training works with virtually any dog. In fact, if you do have a dog with aggression issues, studies have shown that using forceful methods will likely make the behaviors worse. For instance, one study in the Journal of Applied Animal Behavior found that confrontational methods such as striking dogs, intimidating them, alpha rolls, and staring them down often led to an aggressive response. “In almost all cases, dogs are aggressive because they are afraid and feel threatened in some way,” explains Meghan Herron, DVM, DACVB, lead author of the study and director of the Behavioral Medicine Clinic at The Ohio State University College of Veterinary Medicine. “When you use confrontational methods, you are just making yourself more threatening and increasing your dog’s motivation to use aggression against you. It’s like fighting fire with fire.” What about the dogs who do seem to reduce their aggressive behaviors in the face of these methods? “Sometimes people can scare their dogs enough that the animals achieve a state of learned helplessness—they just sit and take it, even though they’re exhibiting signs of panic such as an increased heart rate and panting,” Dr. Herron explains. “Some of these dogs eventually lose this inhibition and their aggression comes back much worse than before, as though they’ve snapped. And for those who don’t, they remain shut down and often live in a state of perpetual fear.” I’d hope that anyone who thinks this is acceptable would strongly reconsider the way they approach teaching dogs.

Myth #3: Only puppies can learn new things. 

Truth: Apparently this line of thinking has been around a long time: In 1534, an Englishman named John Fitzherbert wrote in The Boke of Husbandry, “The dog must learn it when he is a whelp, or else it will not be: for it is hard to make an old dog stop.”Today’s translation: “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” I know that clichés often have a good bit of truth to them, but that’s definitely not the case with this one. I have worked with thousands of dogs, and I can attest that you can most certainly teach dogs of all ages just about anything. More than half the dogs I’ve worked with in my career were adult dogs, not puppies. I even had a dog in one of my basic training classes who was fourteen years old—he did wonderfully and passed with flying colors. And to this day, I enjoy teaching new concepts to my own dogs, who are all in double digits now. In fact, I recently taught Alpha Centauri to run outside, pick up a package from my front yard, and bring it back into the house. He doesn’t mind the rain as I do! Bottom line: Dogs simply love to learn at all ages, and you should always continue teaching them new tricks and concepts to keep them mentally stimulated. No offense to Mr. Fitzherbert, but don’t buy into this old idea for a second!

Myth #4: Positive training means never disciplining your dog. 

Truth: Just because you’re not forcing your dog into submission doesn’t mean you’re going to let her walk all over you. Positive training does include consequences for unwanted behaviors, but it’s very different from the aggressive methods of traditional trainers. I have no problem with communicating that you do not like something your dog does. If you catch your dog getting into the garbage, telling her “No, don’t do that” in a calm tone, and then removing access to the trash is very logical to me. Or, in the case of jumping on guests, removal from the environment for a few minutes in a good time-out can be very effective, too. The problem comes when you start saying “No!” a lot more often than you say “Yes.” If this is the case, then you are reacting to your dog’s actions rather than taking the appropriate initiative to teach her how you’d like her to behave. The goal is to show your dog the behaviors you do like so the emphasis is more on the positive. So after you remove the garbage and get your dog to sit and focus her attention on you, then reward the positive behavior. Follow through and go that extra mile! When you learn to snap into training mode and follow through like this, you’ll start to see a dramatic acceleration in your results. Do I physically correct a dog from time to time? You bet I do, but only in rare circumstances. Here are the criteria I apply when putting my hands on a dog or forcing her to do something: Would I correct a three-year-old child in the manner I’m about to correct this dog? If not, then I don’t do it. Here’s an example: Let’s suppose I’m standing on a street corner with my dog on a leash sitting next to me. Suddenly, there’s a distraction across the street and my dog attempts to run into the street toward it. I certainly will restrain my dog and walk away from the distraction abruptly, in the same way, that I would grab a child’s hand and pull her away from something that put her in harm’s way. By definition, this is physical correction. However, I limit physical corrections to when I’m preventing my dog from potentially being injured or causing harm to another being. Keep in mind, however, that a correction like the one I just described is a far cry from a restrictive, aggressive pop with a metal collar around a dog’s throat. There’s really no comparison. Lastly, keep in mind that even the physical correction I just described is not ideal. As you’ll learn throughout this book, when you effectively prepare your dog for certain situations, then for the most part no physical correction will ever be necessary.

Myth #5: Once you use treats, your dog will never listen without them.

Truth: You can wean off treats. However, people often expect that once their dog has demonstrated she understands a particular concept or trick with a treat, she should immediately start doing it without one all the time. That usually doesn’t work. If your dog refuses to do something without a treat, this likely means you have attempted to cut treats out of the equation too early and your dog doesn’t get it yet. Your dog will certainly learn to listen without treats, but you’ll probably need to use them longer than you intuitively might think, possibly up to six months after she first learns a behavior. However, I’m talking about your dog knowing a skill completely. For her to do that, she’ll need a lot of repetition and have to practice under various circumstances. For instance, say your dog sits for you when you are home alone even if you don’t give her a treat; however, when you take her to a park where there are lots of distractions, she doesn’t. That’s because dogs don’t generalize well. The single biggest thing you can do to throw your dog off is to change her environment or other variables. When you do, you’ll need to reteach her that skill or trick in the new environment. Using a lot of treats or other rewards with sincere encouragement simply motivates your dog to do the behavior under a variety of circumstances those first several months, which is more important than insisting she does it without a treat right away. Also, once you think your dog knows a skill completely, don’t just cut out the treats cold turkey. Instead, I recommend following the principle of intermittent reinforcement. You might notice that after first teaching your dog something new, a time when you should reward heavily, that you might be able to get a “free one” without treating. That’s because you are keeping your dog guessing—dogs excel when you randomly reward, and the goal is to make sure yours can’t decipher a pattern—so you avoid a pattern by mixing it up. Perhaps give a treat for a particular behavior, then skip the treat the next two times your dog does it, and then treat three times in a row. People may argue that using treats is bribery, but I promise you it’s not. Remember, one of the most important elements of my training program is learning how to communicate with your dog, and treats will help you do just that. They are a catalyst that helps keep your pet’s attention on you and encourages her by letting her know she’s on the right track. On top of that, researchers who have studied dogs’ brains found that while food does motivate dogs, they are also greatly influenced by social interactions with humans.5 I couldn’t agree more! While you still need the treats at first to ingrain the particular behavior you’re looking for, combining that with lots of love and genuine sincerity will only encourage your dog further. So my goal isn’t to get my dogs to sit when I ask them only because they might get a treat. I want them sitting because they are listening to me, respecting me, enjoying my attention, and trusting that I have their best interests at heart.

Myth #6: Behaviors such as jumping indicate that your dog is trying to control you.

Truth: This one gets me! Your dog is not attempting to initiate a coup when she jumps on you after you return from work. Look at her body language. Her ears are probably pinned back, her tail is wagging, and if she could talk, she’d probably say, “I missed you so much! Let’s go do stuff together!” I call this enthusiasm and joy, and I’m not sure how this is so commonly confused with dog-to-human dominance. When dogs exhibit behaviors such as tugging on the leash or jumping on guests, it’s not because they are trying to assert dominance as part of their overall strategy aimed at achieving a higher status in the family. Also, doing things such as letting your dog through the doorway first, allowing her on your bed, and feeding her before you eat is certainly not going to make her think she’s now in control. These are ideas based purely on myths. So what are behaviors such as excessive jumping or leash lunging all about? I know that when dogs act out it almost always has to do with a lack of the kind of exercise that engages both the mind and body, like fetch or other dog sports. Here’s an example: I once worked with a dog named Lafitte, a very energetic dog who had the unusual habit of, well, lunging at and attacking full-size trees. Lafitte is no small dog, either, and when he did this it was a sight to see. I know that many trainers would simply say that Lafitte is a dominant dog, slap a choke chain on him, and yank away until he was defeated and exhausted. However, I figured Lafitte was a dog with a lot of pent-up energy who didn’t have a regular outlet to release it. While his primary person, Rachel, certainly tried, it was hard to keep up with his demanding needs all of the time. Lafitte didn’t care about achieving dominance; he just wanted to do something, anything! Even if it meant that the best way to release some energy was to use the closest tree as a toy. Sure enough, after spending some time with him, in a single training session I was able to teach Lafitte the concept of not attacking trees. Rachel also started playing with him on a more regular basis and has reported that his behavior has improved greatly. I elaborate on the specific issue of leash pulling, on this page, chapter 7, but the bigger point here is that I taught Lafitte without trying to dominate him or cause him discomfort. I simply took the time to first understand why he was behaving in a certain way and then took steps to preempt that behavior by communicating in a way that encouraged him to listen to me.

Myth #7: Dogs can’t understand that much, so speak in very simple terms.

Truth: This is one of my biggest pet peeves. Most trainers advise you to keep your phrasing very simple and limit your requests to one word at a time. They say that dogs can’t understand all that much, so the fewer words you use with your dog, the better. There’s certainly validity to this when introducing a brand-new concept like “sit,” but there’s nothing wrong with evolving your language after the first few weeks of basic training. Saying “Sit down please,” “Have a seat,” or whatever else you want to say to your dog can help broaden her vocabulary. I love being able to interact with my dogs by using everyday speech. Several studies have clearly shown that dogs can have a huge vocabulary, comparable to a toddler’s. Stanley Coren, PhD, a leading expert in canine intelligence and author of How to Speak Dog: Mastering the Art of HumanDog Communication, among other titles, has found that the average dog can learn at least 165 words. Highly intelligent dogs can learn 250 words, or even considerably more. One Border Collie named Chaser holds the current known record, at more than one thousand words, and she most certainly understands some sentences and grammatical semantics.6 I know she’s an outlier, but her story shows that dogs are a lot more capable than most people think they are. I can verify that dogs can understand simple sentences, provided you speak this way often. That’s not to say that you shouldn’t use one-word requests such as “sit” and “stay.” But you don’t have to always limit your phrases to one word at a time. You also don’t have to worry that you are going to confuse your dog—they understand slight nuances in language and context just as we do. My dogs very clearly know the difference between “let go” and “let’s go.” Also, years ago when I used to perform with my dogs in stunt dog shows, I would say “Down please” to tell them to get off a platform they were standing on. This did not confuse them when I’d later ask them to lie down by saying, yet again, “Down please.” There’s also no need to dumb down your grammar. If your dog is barking, for instance, you can abandon phrases such as “No bark!” Instead, use proper grammar by saying “Stop barking please,” and teach your dog your language as you would teach a young child. Feel free to speak in a way that comes naturally. You’ll be shocked by what your dog can understand.

Myth #8: You can teach your dog only one thing at a time. 

Truth: Dogs are remarkably intelligent and capable of “walking and chewing gum at the same time.” Just like humans, your dog can process many concepts simultaneously. Of course, I’m not saying to go crazy here and expect your dog to master ten tricks or skills in one day. There’s a fine line between covering multiple concepts and confusing your dog. You’ll have to find that line with your dog, but a general rule of thumb is between two and four simple tasks at a time. As for me, I like to introduce the concepts of “sit,” “down,” “up,” and “stand” in the same training session with most dogs That’s four things! You are not only encouraging your dog to multitask mentally, which is great exercise for her brain, but also planting the seeds for more intermediate or advanced skills down the road that require more than one step. Most importantly, don’t think you have to completely perfect a concept before moving on to the next one. Many people assume they need to, say, master housetraining before they move on to basic training, as though it’s sequential. Again, I want to make sure that this is not your mind-set. While you’re housetraining your dog, you should work on other basic skills. Dogs want to work with humans, and by encouraging your dog to learn lots of things, you’re only speeding up her success.

[ruleandruinrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, JEM!

You have been accepted for the role of LUKA MRAVINSKY with a faceclaim change to Francisco Lachowski. I’m screaming because our bratva group is nearly complete! Jem, you breathed aching life into Luka. Your application was a culmination of highs and lows -- of crescendos of joy and sorrows. It was a beautiful thing, to watch you deconstruct Luka then put him back together again -- pulling him apart while making him whole. You captured his voice, his motivations, his contradictions, and his commonalities. There was a depth there that I was hoping would be captured, and you did it in one fell swoop. You’ve killed us with Luka’s tragedy, his sorrow, his potential for redemption or damnation. All in this singular application. How you managed to fit the whole of (arguably) Ravka’s most tragic pyro, I’m not entirely sure. And for that, I thank you. I can’t wait to see him unfold on the dash! You have 24 HOURS to send in your account. Also, remember to look at the CHECKLIST. Welcome to Ravka!

OUT OF CHARACTER

ALIAS: Jem!

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: She/her.

AGE: 23.

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: I live in EST, and I’d say I’m about a 6 or 7 in terms of activity! I’m always able to plot and respond to messages a few times a day, and I try to crank out replies every day or every other day.

TRIGGERS: OMITTED

CURRENT/PAST ACCOUNTS: Y’all already know: alexanderrallis (active), cygnusblck (inactive), and thesaintofsin (inactive).

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER: Luka Alexei Mravinsky.

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS CHARACTER? Luka, Luka, Luka!!!!!!!!!! Oh, Luka. To be frank, Luka sort of snuck up on me, and I bounced around between a bunch of different characters before finally settling on this sweet, sweet Sankt. When I first began writing Luka’s app, I was a little stuck, and I didn’t quite knowwhat to do with him, how to interpret him. And it was a bit frustrating, to be honest—trying to solve Luka, who, at the time, seemed so unsolvable to me. But I couldn’t let him go, I really couldn’t, and so I kept studying him and learning him, and here I am, utterly in love with Luka Mravinsky. I think I initially struggled so much with understanding Luka’s composition because his composition is incredibly complex. In many ways, Luka is an anomaly—a haphazard bundle of contradictions that shouldn’t be, but is. He’s soft and gentle and kind, but he’s also damaged and tortured and miserable, and for all his altruism, he has a tremendous capacity for destruction—and that was all a little difficult to navigate at first. How do you decode a character who aches for tenderness but was bred for cruelty? A character who wants desperately to be a Sankt but whose curse has damned him? I don’t think you can decode a character like that—I really don’t. I was searching for some Luka-esque inspiration material and discovered this little gem, and it all sort of just clicked for me—Luka can’t be known, not really; he can be learned, but never fully known, never truly mastered, because he hides—from others, from himself—and I think Luka was written in such a way that he can never be definitively decoded. Like a sad, lovely Frankenstein, Luka is a monster of creation, not a monster of origin—he is a product, a result. Half of his parts are missing, and the ones that aren’t missing are foreign—unfamiliar limbs and organs that do not belong to the sweet-natured boy who played in the trees and picked wildflowers for his mama and stole scraps of food from the dinner table for the horses and sat on his papa’s soldiers like a boy-king. The sum of Luka Mravinsky is this: no heart, no smile, wrong hands, wrong head. He left his heart in his village, buried it between the corpses of his mama and papa and left it to rot in the dead soil of the graveyard he’d erected—a shrine to his monstrosity. He left his smile in a chasm of memories stowed away somewhere between his ribs—an endless loop of crisp spring mornings spent in the garden with his mother and cold winter nights spent reading the Istorii Sankt'ya near the hearth with his father. His hands are all wrong—they ache in perpetual want of blood, of sin; they were made to destroy, and Luka was made to restore. His head is all wrong, too—it urges him to do things he ought not to, to indulge in the embers that smolder between the lines of his hungry palms, to stop fighting his nature and bow to the inferno he’s neglected to stoke for so long. So much of Luka is lost, and so much of Luka is not Luka, and so much of Luka is dead. It’s no wonder, then, that the boy knows so little of himself (angel, Sankt, darling); it’s no wonder, then, that the boy hides what little he does know of himself (monster, killer, demon). In short, I’m not certain Luka knows who he really is anymore, and if Luka doesn’t know who he is, how can anyone else? Once I was struck with that idea, everything else just sort of fell into place beautifully, and I became enamored with the prospect of exploring all of the parts (present and absent, belonging and foreign) of Luka Mravinsky. And maybe he’ll recover some of his old parts, and maybe he’ll discover some new parts, and maybe he’ll reconcile with some of his wrong parts. And isn’t that such an incredible creative adventure—to be able to take a character and learn and unlearn and relearn of the parts of their makeup until you find the right combination? He’s so stunningly complex, Luka, and so heart-achingly tragic. A benevolent destroyer, an otkazat’sya-loving otkazat’sya-killer, a lamb in wolf’s clothing, a beautiful boy steeped in tragedy, a tragedy steeped in beauty. He, a Grisha, a god, envies the mediocrity of humanity, aches in want of death, in want of relief from the curse of the Small Science. A lovely, frightening boy capable of lovely, frightening things. Feared by those who know of the monster that razed an entire village to ash; pitied by those who know of the sad almost-Sankt who tirelessly fights his nature, growing paler and hungrier and more tired each day; scorned by those who know of the fair-weathered Grisha who moons over otkazat’sya like they’re something to be admired, to be treasured. Nothing makes my muse sing like navigating a character that’s full of contradiction and complexity, and I think it would be an incredible creative journey to try to put Ravka’s very own Humpty Dumpty back together again (if such a thing is possible, of course—poor Luka had an awfully great fall).

WHAT FUTURE PLOT IDEAS DID YOU HAVE IN MIND? SAD SOLDIER BOY: A CAUTIONARY TALE  Like calls to like, and the damned call to the damned, and Valerian Petrov calls to Luka Mravinsky. Luka’s heart beats in threes: once for Shona, once for Arsen, and once for Valerian. He doesn’t think he remembers how to love, not anymore (he was very young when he last loved, a spritely boy whose mother kissed him often and whose father praised him well)—but he remembers (only just) how to be tender, and so he shares his tenderness with his brothers. Arsen has never been a particularly amenable recipient of soft things (he’s sharp-tongued and sharp-toothed, and he has too much blood in his mouth to know the taste of tenderness) and matters of sentimentality don’t seem to appeal to Shona, not much and not often. Valerian, though—Valerian isn’t tender, not really; he never was, not even before he was robbed of his Juliya. But he’s tender with Luka, as tender as men like Valerian can be. Arsen prods Luka tirelessly, always eager to provoke him, to summon flame, and while Shona tolerates Luka’s gentle disposition, it’s clear that he’s not too terribly keen on it. But Valerian—brightly-burning, jagged-edged, wildfire Valerian—has expressed to Luka on more than one occasion how very fond he is of the sad soldier boy’s stark oddities—of his quietness and his tenderheartedness. He’s always been tender with Luka, Valerian, but Luka fears that his pseudo-brother has razed his own capacity for tender things. Passion has given way to lifelessness, love has given way to grief, tolerance to impatience, and tenderness to cruelty. Grief—it’s a death Luka knows well. The hero of Ravka has fallen, baptized by atrophy, stricken from legend to tragedy, from god to broken-hearted boy. Luka has been treading the brutal current of grief for years now, and so he’s learned well how to navigate these waters. But Valerian is drowning, and Luka fears that his lungs are filling too quickly with too much water, too much grief. He needs a lifesaver, Valerian—not an anchor, but abuoy; someone to keep him afloat, to teach him how to swim in waters as treacherous as the Unsea—and who better to school Valerian in the ways of wading than the sad soldier boy who’s been swimming in the channel of grief for a lifetime? Luka has never saved someone before. He’s well-acquainted with the ways of damnation, but redemption? Salvation? Foreign concepts. Alas, Luka cannot and will not stand idly by and watch grief make a pretty tragedy out of Valerian Petrov the same way it made a pretty tragedy out of Luka Mravinsky. If anything good is to come of Luka’s tragedy, let it be this: the cautionary tale of the sad soldier boy. Woe to all who follow in his steps.

FORGIVE ME NOT Luka is a creature of passivity, a being of indifference whose once-bright passion and once-brighter heart atrophied from lack of use a long, long time ago. But Aarvas Rai summons passion from Luka as easily as the Tidemaker summons waves. Of course, the sort of passion Aarvas invokes is certainly not the kind of passion anyone with a will to live to wants to be on the receiving end of. With Aarvas, gentle Luka is not so gentle, and kind Luka is not so kind; he is hotheaded, and cruel, and brash, and bitter-tongued. Arsen practically dances with glee whenever Aarvas sidles up to Luka, for the Tidemaker has a knack for inciting the ugliness in Luka that Arsen has been trying to pry from the tenderhearted boy for years now. A sinner forged in fire and a Sankt forged in water were never meant to be fast friends, surely, but the blind, consuming animosity that buzzes between the two Grisha goes beyond elemental polarity. Who does this righteous pseudo-Sankt think he is? Preaching redemption, promising salvation. Sanctimoniously hailing the Small Science as a holy relic when he should be condemning the pitiable curse. The road to hell is paved with odinakovost and etovost, and the only fate that awaits Grisha is perdition. That Aarvas Rai has crowned himself savior of all damned Grisha is laughable. They share the same curse, he and Aarvas, abominations of water and fire, and to glorify the Small Science, to laud Grisha as heroes of the new world—it’s blasphemy. Luka is irredeemable, and he seeks no salvation, no decree of absolution from the Sankts. He wants Death’s kiss, and he wishes to wait for smert in solitude (misery doesn’t love company, it seems). But Aarvas is persistent, and stubborn, and mad, and even sad soldier boys have their limits. Tread carefully, Sankt Aarvas—do you know what happens when you push an already-broken boy to his breaking point? Do you want to find out?

GLUTTONY, THY NAME IS GRISHA He’s a glutton, Luka—all Grisha are. It’s easy to forget that sweet, soft-spoken Luka once turned an entire village to ash; it’s easy to forget that gentle, quiet Luka was once so gluttonous, so eager to taste flame and soot, that he ignored his parents’ warnings like Adam ignored God’s warnings and danced with fire like Adam danced with Eve. It’s easy for you to forget, maybe, but it’s easy for Luka to remember. He remembers every day what he did all those years ago, how he surrendered to gluttony, how he fell prey to temptation; how the fire bewitched him, enchanted him, spellbound him. He’s an inferno, Luka, always burning, burning, burning, and he tries—oh, he tries—to smother, smother, smother, to quell the flames that lick at the barren wasteland of his ribcage and gnaw at his ash-laden palms. He fights this battle from dawn until dusk, each day, each night, always trying to temper himself, to douse the fire that refuses to die. He’s always rigid, always clenching his fists to keep those damnable hands of his from playing with matchsticks, always disengaging and dissociating from those around him to eliminate the catalyst of emotion. He’s a glutton, an addict, and try as he might to rehabilitate his nature, a wildfire is a wildfire is a wildfire—they must consume, or die; there is no happy medium for wildfires—no ending but death. Luka’s regimen of restraint is uncharacteristic of an Inferni, and his rather un-Grisha-like behavior is bound to draw someone’s attention, be it the Darkling’s disapproval, his peers’ judgment, or the Ravkan court’s suspicion. After all, what use is a boy of fire who refuses to play with fire? What use is a gun with a broken trigger? Wildfires must eitherconsume or die, and so, too, must Luka. Fair-weathered Grisha don’t fair well in Ravka, I’m afraid, and It’s only a matter of time before someone forces Luka’s hand in the matter. Soon, he will have to make a choice: surrender to his gluttony and reconcile with fire and flame, or perish. What’ll it be, Mravinsky? Live a sinner or die a Sankt?

HUNTED Luka’s loyalty to his bratvas is true and steadfast, but he is not truly beholden to anyone. He is too much a monster to owe fealty to otkazat’sya, and he is too full of self-loathing to owe fealty to the Darkling, soverennyi of Grisha and champion of abominations. As it stands, he is exclusively loyal to Valerian, Arsen, and Shona, but there are, unquestionably, Grisha and Ravkans alike who have their sights set on Luka Mravinsky—namely, Luka Mravinsky’s knack for razing villages. If wielded properly, he’d make for an extraordinary weapon, no? His brothers would never use him as such, but others certainly would. Rhea hunts him, and while the she-wolf is certainly the most transparent of all of Luka’s suitors, he suspects she’s not the only one waiting in line to have a go at making a proper weapon out of the Inferni. Best wishes to the fools who seek to wield Luka Mravinsky—you can’t break what’s already broken, you can’t tame what can’t be controlled, and you certainly can’t win over the heart of a brokenhearted boy.

WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO HAVE YOUR CHARACTER DIE? Likely not, but if you admins felt strongly about using Luka’s death as a plot device, I’d certainly be open to it! (Do it for the Angst™.)

IN DEPTH

IN CHARACTER PARA SAMPLE:  “Luka.” His mothers warnings were always gentle, never stern, and even in her admonition, her maternal love shone—a bright, dazzling thing full of honeysuckle and sun. A small flame leapt from his thumb to his forefinger, dancing about like a riotous storm. He was good-natured, Luka, and obedient, too, for the most part, and so he yielded to his mother’s call, a soft “mama?” springing from his upturned lips. “Dostatochno, moya lyubov.” Enough, my love. The flame flickered once, twice.

“Luka.” Like a lark, Arsen always sings, even when they’re being cruel, but their song is rougher today, a little more exasperated than the sweet, lilting serenade Luka has grown accustomed to. A faint breeze sweeps across the Summoners’ Pavilion, and Luka is grateful, for the chill smothers the heat in his palms some, and he feels anchored once more. Arsen makes a sound of impatience, and he reaches into the bag of flint hooked onto the belt of his kefta, crooning, “Bolshe, bratva.” More, brother.

Instinct bade him to play a little more, burn a little more, destroy a little more, but his mother bade him to stop, and so he stopped. Or he’d meant to—he really had—but some wildfires cannot be quelled, and some hungers cannot be sated. It began with a single wildflower. His mother loved wildflowers, and she would’ve been sad to see her sweetling lay waste to a thing so lovely if she’d lived to bear witness to her would-be-Sankt’s mighty fall from grace. He willed the flame to jump from pink petal to pink petal, from corolla to stem, and he watched with morbid, Icarus-like fascination as fauna fell and turned to ash. It was the first lovely thing he’d ever destroyed, but it would not be the last.

Instinct bids him to bend to Arsen’s will, to indulge in his true nature, to stoke the fire he’s too long neglected. But to trust one’s instincts is to trust oneself, and Luka pities anyfool who deigns to trust Grisha. His instincts betrayed him all those years ago, and he’s since abandoned reliance on intuition, instead favoring the instruments of restraint and control, suppression and solitude. It’s safer this way. But it’s also agonizing this way, and his body aches and groans in protest, angry at being denied nourishment time and again. Hunger gnaws at his stomach, and his hooded eyes are so eclipsed by shadow that he’s beginning to resemble the Unsea. Such is the price to pay for monstrosity; such is the price to pay for penance.

The first lovely thing he destroyed was a flower; the second was a freckled girl named Irina. She was sweet-natured and sweet-toothed, and she was always cold. Her home was near the meadow of wildflowers Luka often played in, and what first consumed one wildflower next consumed a dozen of them, and then hundreds of them, and then the homes surrounding them. Like dominos, lovely flowers and lovely girls and lovely homes fell victim to the ravenous monster forged in the embers of Luka’s palms, and he watched with anguished, Atlas-like horror as home and hearth fell and turned to ash—a blazing pyre of one man’s sins, a monument to one monster’s savagery, a graveyard for one boy’s ghosts.

Arsen sighs, and it’s a mean sound, but Valerian, from across the Pavilion, pins them with narrowed eyes of daggers, and Arsen is almost immediately tempered. To Luka’s left, he sees Iskra, who’s dancing so intimately with flame that you’d think the girl and the element were age-old lovers. She speaks the archaic language of inferno, takes to flame like the stars take to shine, and she’s effortless in her art, a master of that which cannot be mastered. He isn’t sure if envies her or admires her or hates her. To his right, he sees a small crowd of Tidemakers and Squallers alike, and they watch him with a peculiar mix of pity and contempt. Sad soldier boy, they lament. Broken Grisha, they sneer. Pitiable Sankt, they sigh. His traitorous hands ache in want of liberation, but Luka is captive to the ghosts who haunt his barren ribcage, and he will never permit himself the privilege of freedom, not ever again, not even in small doses. He looks to Arsen, and then to Valerian and Shona, and he marvels at how lovely they are. The first lovely thing he destroyed was a flower; the second was a freckled girl; the last was his his family. He will destroy no more lovely things. And so he smiles, faintly and apologetically, and exits, leaving Iskra to her fire and his fellow Grisha to their judgment and his lovely brothers to their loveliness.

CHARACTER HEADCANONS:

Of the four bratvas, Luka is the least troublesome, but certainly not the least capable of trouble. Kinder than Arsen and gentler than Valerian and quieter than Shona, he’s often mistaken for a wingless seraph, a pitiable, impressionable boy who falls victim time and again to the whims of his bandit brothers. And although Luka is kind, and although Luka is gentle, and although Luka is quiet, he’s also wicked, and whip-smart, and dangerous. He’s less inclined than Valerian and Arsen to incite trouble, surely, but he makes a fine bratva nonetheless—always using his pretty eyes of melancholy to deflect suspicion; always using his sad birdsong to cajole victims of Arsen’s tongue and Valerian’s fists (sometimes—at Arsen’s insistent bidding—using his sad birdsong to lure prey for Arsen’s tongue and Valerian’s fists); always using his intellect to talk his brothers out of trouble. He’s lovely-looking, Luka, and no one ever expects lovely-looking things to be capable of anything but loveliness. And lovely he is, and kind he is, and gentle he is, and quiet he is. But boys of fire always burn—it’s all they know how to do; they burn, and burn, and burn. Lucky for Ravka that Luka Mravinsky drowns in misery each dawn and each dusk—pain makes for a handy leash.

Misery burgeons in darkness, and so, too, does Luka. It’s only fitting, then, that what’s outside matches what’s inside: shadows. He’s always swathed in shadows, Luka, bathed in the dreary dusk of tragedy and the moonlight of melancholy. His eyes are always rimmed with dark crescent moons—a result of his negligence, surely, for he does not stoke the inferno stowed in his palms as often as he ought to, and it shows. Rawboned, dark-eyed boy of shadows, hide your fires; let not light see your black and deep desire.

Luka is relatively neutral in matters of politics and prejudice. He holds no particular grudge against the Ravkan court, and he doesn’t subscribe to the overarching Grisha axiom of human inferiority—and why would he? Luka is a well of self-loathing, and he aches to be ordinary, to be human. He thinks himself cursed, thinks otkazat’sya lucky, and so the only ill will he feels for humans is this: envy. He remains neutral in all areas regarding the disparity between otkazat’sya and Grisha, and he has no stake in the game of politics. Because of the brotherhood he shares with Shona, he’s also quite accepting of those who hail from lands outside of Ravka.

Ravka is a treasure trove of secrets, a shrine of gossip and hearsay. Among the well of rumors that spill from lips to ears in Ravka is the great tragedy of Luka Mravinsky. He was a mystery to them at first—a sad, soot-covered orphan boy plucked from the bedlam of war. But mysteries never remain so for long, and soon, tongues were wagging about the pyro who started the great fire, wiped an entire village. “Angel smerti,” they hissed. Angel of death. “Smert kosoy,” they whispered. Reaper. And he’d been certain—so certain—that the three boys he’d learned to love as well as any monster could would hiss the same, whisper the same; leave him to perish in the hearth of his own flame. And he’d been wrong. Every cruel whisper aimed at Luka was met with a crueler barb from Arsen’s crueler tongue, and every mean hiss at Luka’s expense was met with Valerian’s meaner fists. Shona followed in suit, and soon, residents of the Little Palace (and the Grand one, too) learned not to whisper or hiss about Luka Mravinsky, for to do so was to incite the wrath of fire and storm. To this day, most who live in the Little and Grand Palaces know of Luka’s story, but few discuss it plainly for fear of the three hellhounds that follow the sad soldier boy around like guard dogs.

Because of his consuming fear of losing control again, Luka has learned to depend less on his powers than other Grisha, and he has, in turn, committed himself to the study of hand-to-hand combat. His fellow Inferni wield flame with much more precision and ease than Luka, to be sure, but there are few Grisha who can best Luka in the training room, where the use of Small Science is forbidden and Grisha must rely on fists and reflex. To maintain constant restraint, Luka trains and meditates religiously, for he finds that exercising the most human and most base parts of himself keeps him grounded (and keeps the monster in him at bay).

Much in the same way that Luka has learned to depend on hand-to-hand combat so as to relieve his dependence on flame and fire, he’s also taken to academia. Every hour spent avoiding the Summoners’ Pavillions was, in turn, spent in the Grand Palace’s library, where Luka read voraciously and studied even more so. Because of this, he’s certainly one of the more intellectual Grisha. He’s well-versed in Grisha theory and militant strategy and is able to speak Kerch, Suli, Shu, and Fjerdan as fluently as he speaks his own mother tongue.

Of course, his excellence in academia and combat training have yielded an obvious deficit in his ability to summon and wield fire. Despite his great capacity to wield flame (as is evidenced by his burning of an entire village), his obsessive need to retain control and his reluctance to call to the fire that betrayed him all those years ago make for a poor Inferni. He can’t summon nearly as well as Arsen can, and he can’t wield half as gracefully as Valerian can. Many other Etherealki sneer, call him weak-willed and bare-boned, a broken Grisha who’s about as useless as otkazat’sya. They’re wrong, of course—Luka Mravinsky might yet be one of the greatest Inferni Ravka has ever known if only he’d embrace his nature. But he’s got no qualms about the sneers and whispers, really. Better a broken Grisha than a monster.

Luka has a tattoo on his left bicep that reads: XCIII. It’s the population of his mother village; the number of people he killed, the number of ghosts that have taken up residence in his hollow body.

Luka has crossed the Unsea many times, perhaps more than any Inferni of his age. Those who don’t know him might call it a grab for glory, but those who do know Luka know that he cares nothing for glory. He has nothing to prove, and his dreams of earning the title of ‘Sankt’ have long since perished. Those who don’t know him might call it a quest for redemption, a voyage to do enough good to make up for all the bad he’s done, but Luka thinks himself irredeemable; to try to pay penance for the 92 lives he stole is, he thinks, a fruitless quest. Why, then, does the almost-Sankt so readily volunteer to travel the Unsea? Why not? Men who have nothing to lose are dangerous creatures, beings of fearlessness who know not the confines of survival or self-preservation. They call him fearless, courageous, bold—but he doesn’t care what they call him. He’s not fearless, or courageous, or bold—he’s dead, a ghost among the living. Perhaps it’s luck that he’s not yet been made a victim of the Unsea; perhaps it’s penance, a sentence of purgatory that manifests in the flush of his cheeks and the stubborn beat of his heart. Or perhaps he’s escaped the clutches of the volcra because the ghastly beasts feed only on the living, and Luka is only half-alive, too hollow to feast on.  *All headcanons are, of course, subject to player discretion!

EXTRAS: You can find a mockblog for Luka here! MBTI: ISFJ. ASTROLOGY: Pisces (February 24th).  HOGWARTS HOUSE: Hufflepuff. MORAL ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good.

ANYTHING ELSE? OMITTED

[megadarkbouquettidalwavethings]

Is Your Dog Ready to Be an Instagram Star?

What conclusions may be drawn? For one thing, Instagram puts a premium on superficial dog traits like cuteness over ones like intelligence or obedience.

“Instagram and social media is impacting everything, and influencing all kinds of lifestyle and consumer decisions, so it makes sense that it would influence what kind of dog people choose,” said Cameron Woo, the publisher of The Bark, a dog-culture magazine based in Berkeley, Calif. In that way, Instagram is like television was in an earlier era, Mr. Woo said. “Lassie” inspired a mid-century collie boom; “Frasier” propelled a Jack Russell terrier moment in the 1990s.

That was certainly the case with Aleksandar Gligoric, a dog breeder from Serbia who named his online dog store Frenchie World, in part because of Instagram. “People are considering Instagram worthiness in all aspects of their life,” he said. “I felt that the Frenchie would be the next big thing on Instagram.”

Almost Human

So, what dog traits are favored by Instagram users? Well, for starters, they like dogs that look like them.

Breeds like pugs and Boston terriers “really resemble humans, or babies,” Mr. Woo said. These so-called brachycephalic breeds, with their shortened heads, flat faces and barely there noses, “are very photogenic with their large, forward-looking eyes,” Mr. Woo said. “They appear to be grinning or smiling,” never mind that the “smiles” are often caused by breathing difficulties native to their breeds.

Pug owners don’t disagree.

“With their smushed-in faces, all the rolls, and their funny tails, pugs are the least doglike dogs,” said Leslie Mosier of Nashville, whose pug, Doug (@itsdougthepug), is one of the most popular pets on Instagram, with 3.2 million reputed followers. “They are more like humans-slash-pigs-slash-dogs.”

The breed’s almost-human face makes it easy for owners to anthropomorphize their pets with costumes. Ms. Mosier routinely plays off Doug’s perma-frown by dressing him — wrapped in towels, say, with cucumber slices over his eyes, looking like a moneyed divorcée taking refuge at Canyon Ranch.

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As actors or models, pugs are the canine equivalent of hams. “They were bred in China to sit at the emperor’s feet and entertain,” Ms. Mosier said.

A dog’s popularity can increase exponentially when it has a signature style flourish, the canine equivalent of Anna Wintour’s sunglasses or Pharrell Williams’s hats. Case in point: the Gene Simmons-length tongue of @marniethedog, a Shih Tzu rescue that at this point may be more famous than the real Gene Simmons, thanks to an explosively popular Instagram feed.

And if the canine flourish isn’t genetic, there’s no stopping the owner from creating one with careful grooming. Take Agador (@poochofnyc), a maltipoo with teddy bear looks who has appeared in ad campaigns for Google and a teaser for Katy Perry’s “Bon Appétit” video.

Agador’s explosive orb of copper-colored frizz is routinely gussied up into a spherical confection atop his head. It is a look that conjures the Bob Ross, the TV painter who died in 1995. And who isn’t going to follow “the Bob Ross of dogs,” as Agador is billed on Instagram.

“It makes him instantly recognizable,” said Allan Monteron, one of his owners. “People stop us on the street and say, ‘I follow that dog on Instagram!’”

Exaggerated features are a plus, too. Take corgis, those squat-legged canine courtiers to the queen. They are certainly hot on Instagram, with accounts that have “corgi” in the user name rising 200 percent over the past year, according to Instagram, and that cannot all be attributable to the breed’s occasional cameo on “The Crown.”

Every feature of the corgi works as a visual punch line: those oversize Yoda ears, the squat “Honey I Shrunk the Collie” body, the 50-percent-off appendages, which make the corgi’s movements particularly comical on social media.

The same may be said of bulldogs, the one breed that appears in the top five of both Instagram and the American Kennel Club. Outside of social media, bulldogs’ popularity will be assured so long as there are Anglophiles, Marine Corps veterans and college football fans in the state of Georgia.

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And on Instagram, where user names that include “bulldog” have seen a 60 percent surge in the past year, bulldogs check multiple boxes: They look like people (specifically, grumpy old men), have inherently comic features (the volleyball-size head, the tiny bow legs) and are easy to anthropomorphize.

The breed has also reaped a windfall of “it dog” publicity from celebrities, including Brad Pitt, Jessica Biel and David Beckham, for whom these homely little bruisers seem to make the perfect foil. The message seems to be: “Do not hate me because I am beautiful, since my dog is not.”

Mutts and Tripods

Because of their associations with the queen and the British Empire, however, both corgis and bulldogs seem out of step with the current vogue for rescue dogs and less rarefied breeds.

These days, pointedly aristocratic breeds tend not to pop on social media as much as dogs with quirky features or compelling back stories, said Elias Weiss Friedman, a New Yorker photographer who spends his days snapping pictures for The Dogist, a dog-centric street photography site that has a rabid Instagram following.

“I’ve found that people prefer the more real, natural dogs,” Mr. Friedman said. “Poodles seem to give off a pretentious vibe, especially if they have the classic poodle haircut. The older generations love them, but I think the younger generation sees that style as fake, undogly.”

Indeed, his two most popular posts have been a mixed breed puppy with funny ears named Larry and a 12-year-old Labrador with vitiligo named Rowdy. “People crave relatability, and see dogs as individuals with similar life challenges to themselves,” he said.

The right kinds of mixed breed — they were once called mutts — play well on social media, particularly if their features are camera worthy. A husky-malamute-wolf mix called @loki_the_wolfdog has become one of the 10 most popular pets on Instagram, thanks in part to his rugged “Call of the Wild” aura and head-turning looks (including mismatched eye colors and a silky coat that changes color with the seasons), that his owner, Kelly Lund, uses to poetic effect in his shots of Loki in the snow-dusted Colorado wilderness.

Many dog owners interviewed also said they see mutts, rescues and disabled dogs as a more ethical choice.

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“I think the most difficult question posed to us is always ‘Where did you get that dog? I want to get one exactly like it,” said Francis Bott, who owns Agador with his partner, Mr. Monteron. “It is simple enough to provide the breeder’s name, but we are big proponents of adopting rescues whenever possible.”

(They opted buy a hypoallergenic poodle mix from a breeder, Mr. Bott said, because their previous dog, a rescue Shih Tzu/Bichon mix, aggravated their allergies.)

Rescue organizations like the North Shore Animal League and the Brooklyn Animal Resource Coalition blanket social media with heart-rending photos of doe-eyed animals looking for a home.

Such social media efforts to raise awareness have led to a demand for differently abled dogs and so-called tripods, or those missing a limb, said Jennifer Nosek, the editor of Modern Dog magazine. One such unlikely Instagram star was Smiley, a golden retriever born without eyes, and with a form of dwarfism, in a puppy mill, who went on to become a widely publicized service dog in nursing homes and hospitals. (Smiley’s death last year, after a battle with cancer, was covered by the news media.)

“Perhaps it’s an antidote to all the bad news we’re so often bombarded with,” Ms. Nosek said. “These accounts remind us that there are people, and dogs, out there doing good.”

Either that, or such dogs just provide a break from the pressure that the rest of us feel trying to look too perfect for Instagram.

Take @chloekardoggian, a gray-whiskered 13-year-old rescue Chihuahua in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn, with huge eyes and 153,000 followers. “Her ears go up, her nose goes right, her tongue goes left, and her eyes each go in different directions,” said Dorie Herman, her owner. “Everyone has felt like Chloe looks at some point in their lives.”

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ALEX WILLIAMS

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