#cloudkin

[grimmwolf]

No context, no explanation, no rant, just…

I am a place. I am heaven. I am light. I am the sky. I am a cloud. I am sunshine and rainbows. I am the warmth on your skin and the breeze in the air. I am the grass you trample and the water you splash. I am paradise. I am a utopia. I am the beyond. I am nirvana. I am the promised land. I am eden. I am the firmament. I am a haven. I am the universe. I am the stars. I am the suns. I am the galaxies. I am space and time. I am…

…everything

[angelkin-food-cake]

White Peach and Rose Sorbet

4 cups white peaches, sliced

2 Tbsp. lemon juice

2 Tbsp. rose water

1 cup sugar

½ cup water

2 Tbsp. lemon juice

rose petals for garnish

In a medium pot, combine the peaches, lemon juice, rose water, sugar and water to a simmer. Cook for about 5 minutes, stirring often, until the sugar has dissolved and the peaches are soft.

Let the mixture cool for about 15 minutes, then pour the contents into the jar of a blender. Puree on high until the mixture is very smooth. Add extra 2 tablespoons of lemon juice and quickly blend for a few more seconds.

Pour the sorbet mixture into an ice cream maker and churn according to directions or just pour it into a metal loaf pan and put in the freezer. Either way, the sorbet should be in the freezer at least 6 to 8 hours.

[randompolykin]

hrt that makes you a cloud

Why need anymore explanation?

[tumberkin]

Can I pleasssse have rainkin and cloudkin stimboards??? I would love that so so much!

- deer 🌧️ (@kindkin)

Rain & Cloud Stimboard!

i hope u like it :3

[himeprincessa]

[jupiter--dream]

what discoveries have you made since the 2021 ghostkin / cloudkin post ? :p

Omg hi! Little warning for a ramble that might sound incoherent and "weird" to people who don't know how to have fun lol /lh (aka: I'm talking about my non-humanness, lol)

Warning! this gets VERY long, VERY specific and personal (not in a vent way, but in a "I'm rambling about myself" kind of way), and, somehow, incredibly scientific. Like, actually talking about a physics phenomenon and chemical reaction. I don't know, but yk how it is lol, I may be cringe but I am free

Well! I am indeed cloudkin and Ghostkin; rather, I've realized that I mostly feel like a cloud-looking spirit of sorts, inhabiting a human body if you will. I know some of my features (antlers, fangs, multiple eyes and dots and markings) but they're slightly shifting since my form isn't stable in itself!

Also, I know I'm fictionkin to some degree... Except I'm... not? See, I'm part of a system. I keep referring to myself as otherkin instead of just being a non-human sysmate because, despite this not being everyone's experience (completely valid), I technically "am" "the one that was here before the others""", rather, I was just here pre syscovery even if I know I've been plural for longer than that; but I felt so at home with kin terms that they felt right to use even when I don't see many systems referring to their individual members as X-kin. However, I did eventually realize that my connection to a certain character (I'd hide who it is... But I post about Dream sans on an almost daily basis and they've been the mental representation of myself for about five years now, like. They're me) but it didn't feel like being fictionkin to me; I AM some sort of introject, a semi-fictive I'd say. Plus Dream is a little ball of golden energy inhabiting a skeleton body... And so am I, a golden-looking spirit inside a body! So I'm ghost/cloudkin, galaxykin (simply because of the shifting nature and because my mind always feels so -vast-, like my body's too small to contain it, and it felt right to think of myself as a galaxy, and it was a good metaphor until it was just... intrinsically tied to who I am) and starkin for similar reasons (glowing mass of continuous chemical reactions... Me relating myself to chemistry doesn't end here, keep reading and you'll notice lol)

Stupidly enough, because this is so specific and no one ever seems to talk about stuff like this, one of the things I've realized about myself is what I'm made of; as in, which chemical-

It's something I've known for a while, before I went by Júpiter I went by Jay because I knew I wanted a name that started with J bc J and Q are the only letters not in the periodic table and I was like "oh, my name starts with J because I'm the missing element"; and then way before I had my gender figured out, the easiest way to explain my feelings was to talk about myself in pokemon types... I'd be a ghost/poison type, something about poison types always made me relate in a way? fitting lol

I think I had a huge species euphoria moment when we did the gold rain experiment (link leads to page explaining how to do the experiment) in my lab class. To put it simply, it is a mix of lead nitrate and potassium iodide that crystalizes, and then forms this snowball kind of effect, it looks like THIS:

I don't know, the mix of something looking so glittery, yet being so toxic (8g of lead nitrate are enough to kill you lol) made me go OMG ME

I want to also add that as a physics student + chemistry enthusiast, me feeling species euphoria from physics/chemistry concepts extends to more; for example I learnt about the De Broglie wave length and I haven't been normal ever since... idk how to properly explain it, so here's the wikipedia definition lol, shorter than what I was gonna write: "Matter waves are a central part of the theory of quantum mechanics, being half of wave–particle duality. At all scales where measurements have been practical, matter exhibits wave-like behavior. For example, a beam of electrons can be diffracted just like a beam of light or a water wave." And I don't know how to explain the inherent non-human euphoria I got being "related" to waves like light; like, yes!! I feel more incorporeal and more wave-like! I'm a ghost! Of course my specific properties aren't really "realistic" but come on, no one's trying to (dis)prove my existence.

I think I've just become very comfy in being non-human since 2021, maybe it's because my partner is also non-human and we've related a lot to each other in that regard; I just do the things that make me happy about it. I hide in bed with my prized possessions, makes me incredibly happy in an animalistic kind of way!

Other people find where they came from, who they were at some point. Personally, I do not have a spiritual past related to my non-humanity, I am a creature inhabiting a human body, so I don't have hearthomes or kin memories... I have weirdly specific attachments to physics concepts (part of the reason I must study physics, I need to understand the world on a deeper, non-human level) and feel euphoria over the weirdest shit lmfao

[animalisticdivine]

Calling Conceptkin/Objectkin!

I’m questioning being cloudkin and some other things as well.

I wanna know your experiences figuring out you are concept kin? Feel free to add any details!! I don’t seem much posts on us conceptkins, or even objectkin, etc.

[fictionkinfessions]

I'm never going to see any of my friends again, am I? Tifa, Barrett, Red, Aerith, Reeve, Yuffie, Zack, Vincent, Cid... Aerith's Mom, Marlene, Bugenhagen, Biggs, Wedge, Jessie... Sephiroth... the leader of Tsunami... all of Barrett's summons... uh... Dolphin Blow guy? I was a friendly guy. Anyways! I'm from a comedy spinoff! Canon Tifa is so... nice! So even talking to regular sourcemates, it'd be... strange. Not right.

But they're gone, and they're never coming back.

And I can't even show anyone my source. Because it kind of sucks. :(

- Cloud (FF7 Machinabridged)

s

[loveisinpictures]

Puppydog shaped cloud chasing a bone!

[randompolykin]

i feel a similar way about being a storm

I am a gray little cloud, but eventually I become one with other clouds and we become a storm. And I can't really be just a cloud without being also just a storm itself. (Well this is how I feel, and I couldn't see it being another way for me, but you can have another experience) And there is definitely a divinity to it. That's definitely on the same level as my (fallen) angel kintype(s) because of this greater than myself thing I was apart of, but not anymore. Being apart of a storm...it's a sort of divinity that can not be fully described by that word. I miss it a lot. Even though I have no idea if it was ever mind

Hey dude!! Thanks for always liking my posts! You rock!! 😸 I think you’re super cool btw! Being a fellow cat AND a thunderstorm too?? That rocks!!! How did you discover you were a thunderstorm? Does the feeling tie into being a griffin too since griffins can fly and thunderstorms are above ground, or are they more separate feelings?

Sorry for not answering this sooner! I saw your question and I had to think about it for a WHILE.

Extremely Long Ramble below:

So, I’m still not sure if I actually am a thunderstorm itself, but I’ve always (like, since I was a kit) been extremely connected to storms and other such weather. Whenever it’s stormy out, or just “bad weather” (the best kind of weather) like hail or rain, I cant help but smile ridiculously. I love it so much and I associate myself strongly with it.

Additionally, as you said, me being a gryphon gives me another layer of deep love for and connection to the sky and its weather. Something interesting I’ve found is that I (as a gryphon) consider myself under the umbrella of dragon, though moreso dragonfolk than anything, and (being a werecat), I see myself in most big cats (& larger lesser cats). As a werecat, I carry many lion and mountain lion traits- including my build and coloration. So, I find it fascinating that I associate thunderstorms with these creatures. Did I project myself onto them, or did they leave an imprint on me?

In a bit more detail, storms always felt like they embodied the archetypical role of a lion or a dragon- like how a thunderstorm can purr or roar, how it can shake the sky, and is, in general, animalistic. Weather always seemed like a living thing to me (in a way).

It’s also always been interesting that I, as both a sub-arctic gryphon and a cold weather feline (with thick fur & feathers) am so well suited to storms. The storms I’m used to are cold and biting, and I, in a body that is without my true fur or feathers, somehow was born with all of the features I need to endure the cold and wind. As an avian and a feline, I should have thick integument, ample fat reserves, and thick skin to insulate me. And somehow, despite being born into a body that is neither of these creatures, I have these things. Out of most people I knew, I’ve always been uniquely suited for harsh weather and cold environments that perfectly match my hearthome- the habitat I should be in.

I’m not spiritual in any way, yet the perfect alignment of my shape and the ability to enjoy the storms I so love is amazing. I’m a bird whose literally meant to hold and be held by the sky, and despite it being unable to reach me here, I still carry the traits that show I belong to it. Being so intertwined with something like that, in both love for it and design for it, often makes it difficult to distinguish between it and myself. When a bird is flying in the sky, being lifted by both its own wings and the sky’s updrafts/winds, is it strange to not separate the two? When I fly (if I COULD) we’re the same entity, I am a bird up in the sky- in a storm- just as I am the storm and the sky carrying a bird within it.

That interconnectedness often leaves me with a feeling similar to an almost animalistic angel. Since I am both myself and the storm, it’s difficult to perceive the whole of me without losing part of it from your field of view. Having my feathers, my talons, my wings, and pairing those with something as ever shifting as a storm gives the impression of an angel, despite me being perfectly mundane. It makes me feel bigger than myself, which is a sensation similar to the divinity(?) of a fallen angel- changed, but not fallen too far (aligned with earth). I fill that grey space that often drives humans to apotheosis, something large and impactful, but not supernatural. Like how some people say a supercomputer or the interconnected root system of a forest is an “angel”. I’m not divine, deific, or angelic, just large and interwoven between the parts of myself.

Being dragonkith as well gives a sense of belonging with the large growling things of the sky (not saying all dragons must be large or flighted, but those are the ones I relate my storm + self form to). As a gryphon on my own, I am a creature (or even a critter)- barely bigger than a bobcat and only intimidating towards small rodents and leporids- but in tandem with a storm, I am a beast, a force to be reckoned with (a dragon, in a sense).

I haven’t found a label that encompasses my “connected -> being” feeling that I have for storms and the sky, and despite attempting to make my own label, nothing fits. So, I just say that I’m a thunderstorm- even though that doesn’t even begin to cover or properly convey being sense of being.

So, yeah! I’m a thunderstorm, both distinct from my gryphon-ness and because of it!

[ffxivxd]

The Branchbearer of Yak T'el is a peculiar species of seedkin that takes the appearance of a flightless bird. This ambulatory flora mimics the shape of cloudkin to lure in unsuspecting carnivores, slaying them and feeding on their vital fluids.

[briar-ffxiv]

FFXIV Write #03 - Tempest

FFXIV Write 2024 Master Post

Prompt #3 - Tempest

Note: This is my little take on Bardam's Mettle and Briar (as the Warrior of Light) taming his yol.

With a shriek of fury, the giant cloudkin lashed out with a massive wing. Briar threw himself backwards, rolling to cushion the fall and twisting to his feet. A gathering of aether formed a shield, protecting the slim half-Elezen from the massive blast of wind the yol threw in his direction. Panting, Briar twisted his hands, gathering the aether and sending it back at the bird.

The yol gave a pained, frustrated cry as the spell slammed into its broad chest, wings flailing to keep from tumbling to the ground. With another shriek, the giant eagle-like bird spread its wings and flapped hard. In a few moments, it had retreated, lost in the stormy clouds above.

Briar held his ground, green eyes darting, looking for a sign of attack. The bird had risen above to swoop down, claws extended several times in the drawn-out battle. After several long heartbeats though, the yol did not reappear.

The half-Elezen stood slowly, moving to pick up the bow that had been knocked sailing when one of his dodges was not quite quick enough. He slung it across his back, still watching the sky warily. He stared when he saw a brief flash of wings as the bird circled the peak slowly. Biting his lip, Briar withdrew the carved bone whistle he'd been given. After a moment, he blew it, sounding a sharp clear note that echoed off the granite. An answering call came from the yol and the bird folded its wings, heading down again but slower than before.

In mere moments, the yol flared its wings and sank its talons into the ground. Settled, the bird flared its crest up, tilting its head to study Briar with keen, grey eyes. Taking a shaky breath, Briar walked forward, reaching a hand and slowly resting it on the yol's shoulder. When the bird just studied him more closely, he smoothed his scarred palm over the sleek feathers. Breathing out slowly, he met the bird's gaze, sucking in a breath as he felt the shift of aether and the sense of a presence solidify.

"Not it," he murmured aloud to the bird. "She."

She was beautiful. The yol was a mixture of greys with touches of purple and silver, like one of the massive Steppe-born storms given form and feather. Even her beak and talons were pale grey turning to black at the tips. Briar could sense a fierce, strong spirit within. She was not cowed nor even 'tamed' by their duel, but she was willing to listen for now. Briar had no doubt she was too proud a creature to serve, but she would aid if she was treated well.

"No less than you deserve," the Shroudborn whispered, lifting his other hand to scratch her jaw gently as the yol lowered her head to watch him more intently. "You are no one's pet and you need a name that shows it."

Cirina had explained the importance of name, the power of names to those of the Steppes. To truly claim their yol, a warrior must name them and the yol must accept.

A flash of lightning and a crack of thunder had both Briar and the yol looking. The half-Elezen huffed a soft laugh as the first cooling drops of rain fell, easing the exhaustion that made his muscles burn. A storm could be a blessing or a danger, depending on the circumstances. The thought made Briar smile as it seemed perhaps a sign of the gods here.

"Tempest," Briar said quietly, looking at the yol. "You are Tempest."

And his smile widened as Tempest flared her wings and her cry rang off the granite mountains, declaring her name to all that could hear.

[angelkin-food-cake]

Twice Baked Cheese and Bacon Mashed Potato Casserole

3 lbs. russet and/or yukon gold potatoes, quartered

½ cup butter, room temperature

½ cup heavy cream, room temperature

6 oz. mascarpone or cream cheese, room temperature

½ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon pepper

6-8 slices of bacon, cooked and crumbled

¾ cup shredded cheddar or gouda cheese

½ cup grated parmesan cheese

Place potatoes in a large saucepan filled halfway with salted water (make sure there's around 1 inch of water covering the potatoes).

Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and cook for 10-15 minutes or until tender. Drain.

With a potato ricer or a masher mash the potatoes. Add the mascarpone or cream cheese, butter and cream; beat until blended.

Season with salt and pepper.

Stir in the crumbled cooked bacon, 1/2 cup cheddar or gouda cheese and 1/3 cup Parmesan cheese.

Heat the oven to 350F.

Transfer the mashed potatoes to a 2 qt. casserole. Sprinkle with remaining cheeses. (you can reserve 2-3 tablespoons crumbled bacon to sprinkle on top as well)

Bake in the preheated oven for 20-25 minutes or until heated through.

[randompolykin]

could I wake up tomorrow and be a little grey cloud? Floating across fields. Please? I'm sure my family will be fine, I can comeback after I float float float, and form into a storm cloud. A beautiful collective. Once the storm is over, and we all evaporate, I can go back, to my "home" wake up again, like nothing happened, but the storm is just as much as my home. But not the one I have to return to. One day I won't have to. One day

[himeprincessa]

Don't want that California love

[kootiepatra]

#FFXIVWrite2024 - Day 1: Steer

“Everything all right up there?” Wedge called.

Keimwdya was leaning back in the pilot’s seat of the magitek armor, having relinquished hold of the controls with all the speed and vigor of someone who had just laid a hand on a hot stove.

“Keimwyda?”

“Fine, I think,” she answered, as she willed her heart to stop racing. “Just… a bit startled. Was it supposed to do that?”

The two Ironworks engineers who were assessing the machine’s repairs looked at one another in brief confusion.

“Was it supposed to do what?” Wedge asked.

“Lurching like that?”

“You barely moved it,” Biggs replied. “Everything looks fine from down here.”

Keimwyda bit her lip and looked back at the control panel in front of her. Warmachina. She didn’t like these things. She never had. Experiencing them up close did nothing to warm her opinion. She found no fault in Cid’s scheme to infiltrate Castrum Centri—it was a good plan—but that did little to ease her discomfort.

Her homeland, the Black Shroud, was far from renowned for their battlecraft, preferring to avoid conflicts if at all possible. But when fighting proved inevitable, their weapons—the kinds Keimwyda was used to handling, or even to seeing—were of simple, reliable make. They were wood and hide and feathers and flint, and for some, they were still-living branches. They were light; they were silent. Weapons they may be, but it was not hard to understand them through the lens of instruments of protection and defense. They were of the woods, and they fit well in the woods.

Not so the Garlean machina. Their polished dark metal was all harsh lines and angles. Their cerulean lights cast a haunting, unnatural glow. They were big, they were heavy, they were clumsy, and they were loud. Their mere approach sent small cloudkin scattering into the sky in a panic. Their gunfire was even worse. While Garlean advances into the Twelveswood had been few, and never made it very far—undoubtedly Gridania could thank the elementals for that—every incursion left a trail of broken underbrush and torn earth, with burn marks and bullet trails scored into the trees. Every aspect of these contraptions served one purpose, and one purpose only: to destroy.

But even leaving aside her misgivings about the machina overall, Keimwyda had never before sat astride anything more complex than a chocobo. And while the birds were not exactly the smoothest ride, and could be unpredictable in their own rights, if you were kind to them and fed them they at least had some incentive not to kill you. 

She was not confident of the same for this armor.

“Try it again,” Biggs instructed her. “We need to see it in motion. Just a quick turn around the workshop if you please.”

Keimwyda took a breath, rallied her courage, and placed her hands back on the wheel. …Then took them back off of it again.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do this part, Wedge?” she asked. “You’ll be piloting it for the mission, after all.”

Biggs frowned. “I need his eyes down here. Unless you’ve somehow managed to become an engineer in our absence.”

There was nothing for it, then. Keimwdya chided herself for her reluctance, took hold of the controls, and began to very gently ease the throttle lever forward.

Nothing happened. She pushed it a little further. Nothing continued to happen. Further still—and then three lumbering strides, far faster and more abruptly than she felt like should be possible. She instinctively yanked the lever all the way back, forcing the armor to shudder and halt.

“Why did you stop?” Wedge asked.

“It just felt… I mean… I’m sorry, I’m not sure I’m cut out for this.”

“Listen, friend,” Biggs said, his patience audibly beginning to flag. “Where we’re going, you can’t afford to be scared of a little piece of armor.”

“I am not scared, not exactly. But I’m not used to this. And I don’t want it to accidentally hurt someone. Or break something.”

“It’s a machine,” Wedge assured her. “It will only do what you tell it to do. You are in control.”

Keimwyda grimaced. “...I’m sorry. It didn’t feel like I was.”

Biggs rubbed his eyes for a long second. Then he clambered up the footholds along the side of the machina, and reached over to the control panel. “All right,” he said. “For peace of mind. Let’s go over this once more. That wheel is how you steer—turn it right to go right, turn it left to go left. The harder you steer, the sharper you’ll turn. That lever is your throttle. Only stop it dead if you are sure you are about to crash. And that gauge there should always be between the green line and the red line…”

Keimwyda went quiet, embarrassed at herself. It had been but moments ago that Biggs had gone over this the first time—and indeed, she remembered it well enough. Nothing struck her as so complicated that she should not be able to do it. But gods, it just felt… bad.

…Though perhaps not as bad as knowing she was giving headaches to the Ironworks crew. Pull yourself together, Keimwyda.

A few minutes of review and reassurances later, it was time to try again.

“Easy does it,” Wedge reminded her as the machine began to whir. “Gently on that throttle—and when it starts moving, stay calm and let it ride.”

Keimwyda didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until it all came out in a gasp as the armor once more lurched forward. But she managed to restrain herself from killing the engines this time. Step by lumbering step, the armor began its march across the mostly-empty room.

Biggs’ face was a picture of relief. “That’s it! Now soon, get ready to turn…”

It was not the smoothest maneuver—Keimwdya pulled the wheel far too hard to the right, and then briefly overcorrected to the left, before feeling her way back to the center.

“It’s more sensitive than you think,” Wedge observed, a little too late to be helpful.

Keimwyda said nothing and only nodded as her knuckles began to whiten on the wheel.

The tour around the workshop went largely without incident after that. The armor was trudging along at the lowest speed it could (though Keimwyda would have preferred it even slower). Steering began to come more easily. She even began to get a sense for how to let her body relax into the uneven movement of its stride—and, in fact, its rocking, bobbing motion was not entirely unlike that of a chocobo. 

…A giant, ponderous, extremely loud chocobo.

She still didn’t like it.

But when she pulled up to a much gentler stop at the conclusion of the test run, there was no denying the triumphant air in Biggs and Wedge’s manner.

“That looked good to me,” Biggs grinned. “What about you?”

“Smooth as Nagxian silk!” Wedge agreed. “Everything looked stable—no shaking or buckling. We have ourselves a fully functional suit of magitek armor!”

Keimwyda felt a slight warmth of accomplishment despite herself—though, on the whole, she was mostly relieved it was over. “That’s it then?” she asked, beginning to extricate herself from the cockpit without entirely waiting for an answer.

“Aye, aye, we have what we need,” Biggs replied.

“Although…” Wedge began. 

Keimwyda paused.

“I should like you to practice a little bit more. Perhaps at a slightly faster speed.”

This was an answer she neither expected nor wanted. “I thought you were going to be the pilot for this mission?”

“Oh, yes, I most definitely am,” he rejoined quickly. “I would have it no other way! But, it would be good for you to be comfortable at the controls all the same. You never know what might happen out there.”

There was no mistaking the skepticism in Keimwyda’s expression.

Wedge’s resolve wavered. “Ah, well. It’s just…”

“It’s probably not a bad idea,” Biggs conceded.

“See?” Wedge beamed, confident once more. “Who knows? Knowing how to pilot our girl Maggie might even save your life one day.”

Keimwyda resignedly sank back into the pilot’s seat with a sigh. 

I doubt THAT is ever going to happen.