#common uses of brass

[aroaessidhe]

I went to the library sale :) i am a picky bastard and only got hardcovers with the removable dustjacket covers , so they're pristine on the outside! I've read the wayward children books, the others are on my tbr.

[pyrriax]

losing my mind losing my mind losing my mind losing my mind

[dhampling]

the gate girl!dadstarion, 1.5k

He knows vaguely where the building is - he’s sure he’s passed it on one of his late night jaunts - but you’re coming along too. He knows he’s prepared for this moment, down to the most minute detail.  - astarion is a school-gate dilf on his first pick-up adventure with you. wc: 1.5k a/n: dadstarion fridays! wooooo! hope you enjoy - love, dal x

“Come on. We’ll be late.”

Your hand meets his with a toothy grin.

Astarion teeters a little.

He knows vaguely where the building is - he’s sure he’s passed it on one of his late night jaunts - but you’re coming along too. 

He knows he’s prepared for this moment, down to the most minute detail. 

Weeks spent designing the overcoat now covering his clothes - almost feltish in texture, a deep blue with gentle golden threading. Brass buttons. The smallest red ribbon detailing in the seams. The fit is immaculate, despite the fact he had to take his own measurements. The gloves match beautifully, just as he’d intended.

Shoes polished within an inch of their lives. Shirt and trousers pressed to perfection. Hair neatly coiffed with assistance from your gentle hands.

He grimaces.

“She’s going to think I’m weird.”

“Is this for her, or you?’

He takes a moment. Examines both sides of his glove with a flex. Sniffs pointedly. 

‘She’s not going to think you’re any weirder than she already does. She’s your little freak.” You grab at his sides playfully and he shimmies around your clutches, breaking into a timid laugh. 

The dark skies of Deepwinter are primed to allow Astarion his first ever school pick-up. 

He hasn’t slept, you know that. Bag in hand holding the gift he’d spent the short day hidden away working on. Your matching scarves around your necks. The biting chill beyond the threshold of your hearth.  

Eyes round in a contemplative lax as his hand rests atop the door handle. 

“I’m being stupid, aren’t I?”

Your eyes roll fondly into your skull.

“Yes. Now, get moving.” 

It takes you enclosing your hand in his for the door to open, immediately facing a brutal fracas of ice-cold winds lapping at your face. 

“How in any realm is a child expected to walk home in this? Ridiculous!” He shuffles from foot to foot as he chunters while you lock the door and pocket the key, looking up to the stars.

“With a coat. And gloves. And…’

You point to the bag in his hand as you interlink your arms.

‘A scarf.’

Astarion gives a small smile, pressing a chaste kiss to your head.

‘Come on, now. We might get there in time to see her out the door.”

-

The walk there isn’t the leisurely gander Astarion had dreamt of when he’d thought of this moment. 

In his head it was always late summer. Sunblushed.

And yet as you turn your head to him in your giddy half-canter; cheeks flush and breath clouding the space around your perfect head, he can’t believe he ever imagined it any other way.

The stars overhead are familiar as they always have been. The slightest slippy tread of frost on the cobble. Windows around you lit with candles and the loud taverns you pass en-route seem well hunkered-down.

He finds himself pulling you closer with each corner turned, stumbling to keep with your gait.

And then, there it is.

A huddle of parents waiting out in the cold, hands rubbing together; a low hum of chatter. School gates still closed. When you greet some of them with familiarity - one or two even getting a hug as you make your way to your preferred circle - and introduce him as your husband, his heart swells. 

He didn’t realise you were friends with these people. That these fellow parents could be people to have anything in common with in the first place. Astarion is hardly the enigma he used to be within the city walls and they know of him. They know you’re with him.

But none have ever seen him in the flesh.

There’s a minute where he ponders what they think of him. How you’d described him, how they may have looked at your daughter under the orange gloaming light of Leaffall and wondered which features of hers came first from him as opposed to you. How they’d pieced him together in their minds.

He feels a little out of place as you chatter - hyper aware of each stolen glance in his direction. The whites of new eyes flickering in the darkness. 

It isn’t often he meets new people anymore. Even his client roster is exclusive. 

“Why would I tell you how good-looking he is when he isn’t even here to hear it?”

He tunes back in. They all look, you included.

“Hm?”

“Marta-’ 

A faux accusatory glance on your face as you look over to the human who - Astarion presumes - is Marta. 

‘Asked why I hadn’t told the group just how attractive you are.”

The way the most blinding smile breaks over your ruddied cheeks. He melts behind a scoff.

“Actually darling, Marta has a point. I’m hurt, frankly.”

Gods. They’re all laughing. Your gaggle of school-gate friends and he has them laughing.

“No, it’s just dark. See him by light. Then you’ll change your minds.”

You huddle closer despite the brazen lie and the group laughs away. He throws in a small chuckle for good measure and presses a kiss to your head once more.

They’re all relatively harmless, he decides.

What do school gate friends do? Why have you never invited them over for wine or something? 

“I mean - Astarion, what do you think?”

“Hm?”

“They’re showing a rather keen interest to come over one evening for dinner. Inconspicuous, I’m sure.” 

He looks around warily. Can they read his mind? Is someone here a weird school gate mind reader freak? What the fuck?

Your eyes narrow at Marta in jest.

Oh.

If you’re even showing the slightest hint at wanting the doting husband, the doting husband he will give you. Freely and willingly. Far too easily. Naturally.

“Oh! Whatever you want, my love. Anything.”

Astarion takes your head in his hands and brings you close for a warm kiss, eyes softening as he holds you in place. A gentle smile against the harsh wind.  

“What’s in the bag?” Another asks in a jarring fettle. Your head whips round. He answers softly. 

“I- I made the little one a scarf.” 

A coo arises from those huddled around the two of you. 

“He’s a tailor. A good one, too. Really good.” 

You nod with a smile, looking at him. You’re mid-cycle and the idea of your daughter spotting him with those big eyes makes you a bit weak.

A saccharine voice from somewhere in the mix - “He’s immaculate, honey. I’m a little jealous?” 

If he can blush, Astarion feels one coming on. This feels staged. 

“He can’t take his shoes off without kicking them up the wall. Or catch spiders.”

-

As you resume your quiet chatter amongst the group, Astarion catches the door open in the near distance and a soft amber glow pouring from it from the corner of his eye.

It’s a trance. He looks over the heads obscuring his view, the tips of his toes touching the ends of his pristine shoes. 

And there she is.

Absolutely perfect. Small, searching the crowd for the parent she knows will be here.

Then she sees him.

It’s not difficult from afar, even in the dark - she recognises the shock of white hair anywhere - and the look of sheer confusion painted on her face shifts to unfettered joy in seconds.

Gods. She’s running. Tiny legs, bag flailing in her hand. Shouting-

“DADDY!”

As she hurtles towards him, he realises he’s never seen her run like this. She can’t run like this in the house. It’d be enough to make him sad if he weren’t so wholly elated.

He crouches just in time for her to barrel into his open arms.

The way he cups the back of her head is as if he hasn’t seen her in years, spinning her as he stands and holds her at his hip. She’s babbling something wicked and all of it sounds like utter nonsense and he’s so besotted it doesn’t even matter.

His little girl, out in the world. Being a person. 

And it’s him that she chooses to run to. 

“Charming! Hello love!” You shuffle closer and plant a large kiss on the back of her head, taking the bags from her hand and hoisting them up over your back in a routine twirl.

You take Astarion’s hint of a glance toward his bag and roll your eyes fondly, feeling for the scarf and slipping it back into his hand.

“My little darling! Hello! I have something for you - close your eyes.”

He haphazardly wraps the scarf around her neck with one hand as she bristles against his hip, wiggling her shoulders in some impromptu happy dance.

“Look now! You match us!” He exclaims. 

She opens her eyes and squeals with glee you haven’t seen at the school gate before, ever.

And true to his word, the scarf wholly matches both of yours. Embroidered with small golden stars on navy fabric. Her name in some immaculate loopy hand. Far too big for her at present, but warm on this coldest of evenings.

“I love it daddy. I want another one.” She nods acutely and smatters his face in small kisses. 

As you look to Astarion, he raises both brows in amusement at her request. She tucks her head in under his chin.

“Come along now. Let’s get you warm by the fire.”

✦

[blorbologist]

Y'know, I think I figured out why the Hells still feel like a new low-level party to me, even though they're level 13 and almost 100 episodes in.

I don't quite think it's the lack of conversations, or the fact half the party's plot hooks are big ties to past campaigns - though that definitely plays a part.

... Bell's Hells still primarily rely on quest givers.

Most of their goals are given to them and do not feel organic to the party, and constantly remind us that the Hells are pretty much never the most powerful people in the room. Which is usually something you see with a low-level party.

NPCs offering jobs is not a bad thing; it's a very common plot hook. Matt has been extremely skilled with using NPC quest givers in those two campaigns. Not only do they provide an obvious plot thread, but they can put the party in the path of others (say, the Nein running into the Iron Shepherds while doing a job for the Gentleman and everything that came of that). And the Hells had a solid start with it too - Eshteross was an excellent quest giver!

The problem is that Bell's Hells have never really not had a quest giver.

Maybe it's a byproduct of the more plot-heavy structure of this campaign? But while prior parties have felt like they decided on their course of action and what they prioritized, Bell's Hells feels less like level 13 (13! Level 13!) experienced adventurers and more like an MMO group clicking on the exclamation point over an NPC's head. Where does the plot demand we go next? Who do we report back to?

They're level 13.

At level 13, Vox Machina had just defeated a necromantic city-state to clear their name and Percy's conscience. And, you know, the Conclave just destroyed Emon. No one was explicitly telling the group to gather Vestiges and save the world (though Matt guided them there), and they were usually among the most powerful people in the room. They chose which Vestiges to prioritize, which dragons to tackle when, even if the over-all plot was pretty clear.

At level 13, the Mighty Nein were celebrating Traveler Con (another PC goal, I'll note) after brokering peace between two nations, accidentally becoming pirates and heroes of the Dynasty. The Nein regularly chose what to do based on personal goals, not grand ones. Though definitely smaller fish than Vox Machina at this level, they were very independent and gaining solid political clout.

While we're at it: level 13 is one level lower than the Ring of Brass, who had a huge amount of sway over Avalir. They ended the world, and also saved it, while in the grand scheme of things being only a smidge more powerful than Bell's Hells are now.

Can you really see the Hells wielding that amount of influence, when they're constantly being told what to do next?

The god-eater might be unleashed, so Bell's Hells have no time to do anything but what is asked of them. No time for therapy unless stolen from Feywild time, no travel on foot and late-night watches. They haven't even had time to grieve FCG. Percy was grieved in the middle of the Conclave arc. Molly was grieved when half the party was still in irons.

Matt is in the very unfortunate spot of not being able to give the Hells the same agency as the other two parties. Not only because of the world-ending plot introduced so early on; they are surrounded by characters they know (and the cast knows) are stronger and wiser than them - the familiarity of the past PCs and NPCs is to their disadvantage.

Why would the party reasonably ignore Keyleth's task that will help save the world and go off on a romp? Why would the cast when they know well Keyleth has to be sensible and with the best intentions in mind? The stakes are just too high.

It means that the Hells still feel like they're running errands instead of pursuing their own destiny. Their accomplishments are diminished as just being parts of a to-do list, and any stakes feel padded by several level 20 PCs/NPCs standing 5 steps away ready to catch them.

This isn't Bell's Hell's fault, nor is it Matt's. It could be amended, I think, if the Hells are really left to their own devices for a long period of time without support and shortcuts (like during the party split)... which would be really tricky to pull off at this point in the campaign.

They're level 13. They're big fish, but they're stuck in a pond full of friendly sharks, so they don't feel big at all.

[artistmarchalius]

Cockney Rhyming Slang Phrases Part 1

Part 2

In a previous post I went into Cockney rhyming slang history and gave some tips on how to use it.

In this post I’ll give you some commonly used Cockney rhyming slang phrases, phrases that I find funny, as well as some phrases that I think would be useful for Spider-Verse fic writers specifically.

So let’s get started!

A-B

Adam and Eve - Believe

E.g. “I don’t Adam and Eve it!”

Apples and Pears - Stairs

E.g. “He fell down the apples.”

Aunt Joanna - Piano

E.g. “Play me a song on the old Joanna!” Or “Get on the Joanna and we’ll have a sing song!”

Barnet Fair - Hair

E.g. “How do I fit my barnet under my mask? Wouldn’t you like to know.”

This is a very common Cockney phrase; you’ll hear a lot of true Cockneys talking about getting their barnet done.

Barney Rubble - Trouble

E.g. “Looks like someone’s lookin’ for a Barney!”

Bread and Honey - Money

E.g. “I ain’t got enough bread for that.”

Bird Lime - Time (in prison)

E.g. “He’s doin’ bird.”

Bird lime is a sticky substance you spread on trees to catch birds (now illegal, thankfully). You can understand why people relate it to feeling trapped.

Boat Race - Face

E.g. “He’s got a handsome boat!” Or “Shut your boat!” Or “I’m not just gonna show you my boat race, mate. Secret identity and all that.”

Bottle and Glass

I’m going to let you figure this one out.

E.g. “Look at the bottle on that guy!” Or “I slipped on the steps and went bottle over tit!”

Brass Tacks - Facts

E.g. “Let’s get down to brass tacks!”*

*Some people think that this phrase originates from the Cockney rhyming slang, however others say that it is referring to brass tacks used in upholstery or tacks that were hammered into sales counters to indicate measuring points. I don’t have the answer.

Brown Bread - Dead

E.g. “He’s brown bread!”

This is an example of a Cockney rhyming slang phrase that you don’t abbreviate. You always say “brown bread” and never just “brown”.

Bubble Bath - Laugh

E.g. “Are you having a bubble?”

This is meant more in an irritated sense rather than joyful laughter, like saying “You must be joking!” Or “Are you having a laugh?”

Butchers Hook - Look

E.g. “Let’s have a butchers at that.” Or “Take a quick butchers at this!”

It’s good to keep in mind that there can be multiple Cockney rhyming slang phrases for the same word, as well as multiple Cockney rhyming slang phrases that start with the same word. For example, ‘Birds Nest” and “Bristol and West” both mean chest, and “Birds Nest” and “Bird Lime” both can be abbreviated to “Bird”. For the latter, context is important for knowing what someone is talking about.

As always, I’m not an expert; a true Cockney would know far more than I do. I just want to share the knowledge that I have. I hope that someone will find this helpful, informative, or entertaining at the very least.

I’ve got more Cockney rhyming slang phrases coming, but if there’s any other areas of British slang you’d like me to go into, let me know and I’ll see what I can do!

Happy writing and happy speaking!

My other British slang posts: Cockney Rhyming Slang, British Police Slang, Terms of Endearment, Innit VS In’t - a PSA

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Headcanon that George learnt some basic magic and uses it exclusively for cleaning.

Can’t reach the top of the wardrobe to dust?

Magic a rag to do it.

Arthur saw him once but when George said what he used it for, “I’m a servant, sire. My duty is to clean the castle. I found a tool that makes me more efficient at my job and would rather continue as I am. Sire.” Arthur decided he wasn’t doing any harm and that the ‘corruption’ had already gotten to him but it had only made him obnoxiously boring so it was easier to let him be.

Merlin fully disagrees with both points because to the first, George is really trying to become him? What the hell. He’s not willing to lose his job to George of all people.

And to the second, he just adamantly refuses to believe that George is actually boring, his running theory is that he doesn’t like anyone in the castle enough to want to talk to them so he does his best to deter them by refusing to be social. It’s because Merlin heard George break character after a feast once while he thought he was alone when one of the nobles dented a brass tray and George cussed them out so bad that when Merlin repeated what he’d said at training the next day, quite a few of the knights had blushed. Even Gwaine was impressed.

He’s been trying to befriend George ever since, and it’s just not worked. He’s pretty damn close to revealing his magic so they’ll have something in common, but he also doesn’t know if brass genuinely is George’s idea of an interesting conversation starter, he might send Gwen out drinking with him so they can talk about metal or forges or something and she can bring back the intel.

[foldingfittedsheets]

One of my favorite DnD things is that my beloved and I have been playing with the same DM since 2017. We’ve had several campaigns within the same setting and our old characters often make appearances.

NPCs are consistent and it’s funny that one party might have a positive relationship with someone only for the next campaigns party to struggle with that person.

Our previous campaign was a party called The Storm Giants: my fighter centaur, my beloved’s drow monk, our cleric luxodon, and a rogue tiefling. But while playing in that setting the DM was also in talks with my beloved and I about our next characters.

See, he had already broached the idea of letting me play a secret dragon, a character who would join the party in their mortal form to spy on my beloveds upcoming character. I was only a little dragon for balance reasons, so I wasn’t OP. I was so excited to play Orion, a gender-fluid tiefling courtesan chock full of secrets.

Together the DM and I were plotting out my characters family and backstory while the current party was stumbling through their adventure. That meant that I got inside information on who we were interacting with who were also dragons in disguise.

My centaur was all for ambushing an NPC giving us trouble, when I secretly knew that we absolutely should not do that because he was in fact an ancient dragon. We also ended up passing a brothel and my centaur went to see a sex worker. The party joked it should be Orion as it was common knowledge my upcoming character was a sex worker. The DM and I made eye contact.

It would be incredibly fitting for Orion to be spying on the Storm Giants for their boss, and my centaur was a huge blabbermouth. So the joke ended up manifesting, Orion got an off screen cameo and the party was jumped shortly afterward for being a nuisance to the blue chroma and couldn’t figure out how the enemy knew so much about them.

But the best was that at one point the party was sailing through the region that the DM and I had established would be where Orion grew up, and where their moms, ancient blue and brass dragons, still lived. It was a beautiful tropical archipelago.

Our cleric, Joe, decided to go swimming. While deep underwater he came eye to eye with an ancient blue dragon who blinked then swam away.

The Storm Giants flipped the fuck out. Why was there an ancient dragon?? Were we supposed to go track down an ancient dragon? What had it been up to?!?!?

The DM gave me a tiny secret smile and I knew he was just foreshadowing Orion’s origin but the Storm Giants were pissing themselves over it. A year and a half later the party screamed when they realized what had happened.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Open Door 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: silverfox!Thor, side of silverfox!Loki

Summary: you're neighbour needs a little extra help after an injury but starts to expect too much of you.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Thank you again for all your help,” Thor says as he shifts on the couch. His weight draws a creak from the frame as he grips the back cushion and tries to reposition himself. “I must admit, I have a hard time accepting any.” 

Your neighbour is always friendly enough. He waves or says hello or good morning, but you never really stop to chat. Not until you witnessed his avalanche of groceries as he attempted to balance his bag between his crutches. It was too heart-rending a scene to ignore. 

Despite his size, you got him inside. He grunts and you rush over to help prop his leg up on a pillow. He grits as you gently lay the cast on the fluffy bundle. He groans and leans back against the armrest. 

“Ah, the shame,” he decries dramatically. 

“I don’t mind,” you insist. “Really. I couldn’t just watch you struggle.” 

“Too sweet,” he praises, his silver hair glinting in the low lamp light. “I didn’t know there were still neighbourly neighbours.” 

“Well, I’m not that nice,” you assure him. “I got all your groceries away and you have your tea. I gotta get back to my desk. Work.” 

“Ah yes, of course, of course,” he waves you off, “I could not infringe further on your day.” 

“It’s no trouble. You can text me,” you assure him. The soft smell of chickory wafts in the dim air. 

Your eyes wander as you make your retreat. The decor is a blend of brass and walnut. Warm in a visual way. It’s a space that has been long lived in. 

“Before I go, you’re good?” You ask as you stop in the doorway. 

“I’m wonderful,” he assures you. “You’ve already done too much. Once I’m back on my feet, I promise I will be certain to repay you.” 

“You don’t owe me anything,” you assure. 

“Says you,” he counters. 

You chuckle and leave him. You can’t be too bothered by the interruption. Your work is tedious and most of it solitary. Working from home is flexible and freeing, but it can just as often be constraining. 

After smelling the spicy strain of tea you brewed for Thor, you’re in the mind for a cup of your own. Apple chamomile. Calming but not tiring. 

You sit and go back to work. It’s a fair bit of excitement in the usually dulcet neighbourhood. You sink back into the monotonous tasks. Check, check, check. Done, done, done. But why is that doing that? Ugh, it’s not supposed to look that way. 

Your alarm goes off, notifying you that your day is fifteen minutes from over. It’s a necessary reminder otherwise you’ll work three hours over and not realise. You wrap up your work and leave yourself notes for what needs to be done the next day. 

You yawn and grab your empty mug and phone and go back to the kitchen. Your phone vibes once. A missed message. You unlock it and check the waiting text. It’s your neighbour. Sent thirty minutes ago. 

You tap on the convo and frown. There’s only the picture of a ceiling and the edge of the wall. Oh, that can’t be good. 

You hurry to the front door and step into your shoes. You shuffle down the steps, slightly off-kilter, and cross the street. You get to Thor’s porch and knock, breathless as you wait for an answer. 

“Brother, is that you?” He calls from within. 

“No, uh, it’s me,” you say back through the door. 

“Yes, I figured you were hard at work.” 

“Can I come in?” 

“Please,” he hollers back. 

You turn the handle and find him in the entryway, lodged in the alcove beside the stairs awkwardly. You want to ask what happened but you’re sure he wouldn’t want to recount that story. You come forward and tuck your phone away. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I got restless. Tried to do a bit of dusting,” he looks at the feather duster on the other side of the hallway. “I didn’t realise it was such tight squeeze and...” he wiggles his shoulders between the wall and the cub shelf that houses various shoes, boots, and accessories. “I anchored the thing you see. It’s not giving.” 

“Oh,” your brows ripple. It’s a strange situation and you’re not sure you’re strong enough to help. “Right...” 

“You could get a screwdriver. I can reach to undo the anchors, at least enough to get free, I think,” he says. 

“Right, a screwdriver,” you nod. 

“In the utility cupboard. Right by the back door,” he instructs. 

You give him one last look. He can’t be comfortable. He’s a big man and his shoulders are cramped between the small space. His leg is also jutted out in the cast as his other is bent to take pressure off. 

You go to the backdoor and find the dark wooden cabinet mounted on the wall. You open it and take out the small toolbox. You bring it back to Thor as he groans again. 

“Star,” he says, “please.” 

“Sure,” you shuffle through and hand him the star driver. 

“Great,” he grunts and raises his arm up awkwardly. He twists as best he can and angles his hand toward the shelf. He fumbles and knocks against the screw. He growls in frustration. “Too tight.” 

Before you can response, a voice drifts through the open door. “First, I must come and fetch you off the basement floor, and I’ve come again to save you from yourself.” The dark-haired man with streaks of silver in his long locks proclaims, unimpressed. “Oh, and I see someone has beaten me to it. What a wonderful detour this has been.” 

“Brother, wait,” Thor says. “You can help. I’m... stuck. I’m afraid it might be a two-person job, as it were.” 

“Certainly, would be,” the man drones as he comes closer. “You hired a nurse?” 

“Neighbour,” Thor supplies and reaches up. “Please, I’m losing feeling in my tailbone.” 

“Perhaps in your brain too,” the man quips. 

“Right,” Thor wiggles his hands impatiently. 

You take his right and the man takes his other. Thor counts and you haul him up onto one foot. He’s so big, he nearly falls into you but the other man catches him by his shoulder. They are almost of a height but the man with the black in his hair is much thinner. 

“You should consider hired help,” his brother reprimands. 

“I am not helpless.” 

“Sure not.” 

“Um, thanks,” you say to the man. He looks down his nose at you. 

“Loki,” he offers his hand formerly, “the brother. I should apologise on his behalf. He can be overly needy.” 

“I’m just glad he’s fine,” you say. 

“Mm,” the man hums and his eyes slit skeptically, “well, then, brother, do I need to stay and chaperone or can I be on my way?” 

“Go,” Thor huffs in agitation, “thank you both for your help.” He faces you in particular, “I owe you.” 

“As ever,” Loki agrees and spins on his heel. 

You smile at Thor, “you sure you’re okay?” 

“I’ve spent enough of your time and effort,” he gently squeezes your shoulder, “I will be sure to use my crutch next time.” 

[yourplayersaidwhat]

[Context: We've been splitting the treasure more or less evenly between the five of us for the whole adventure and before and a shit ton of gold just got dropped into the party's laps.]

DM: [evilly] What will you spend it on? You can buy practically anything you want--

Fathomless Warlock : [wicked grin] I already know what I'm doing with my share!

DM: Oh?

Fathomless Warlock: I'm opening a shelter, soup kitchen, and free healer clinic to help the common people of the city. :)

Celestial Warlock: And this will be great as a warchest for my political campaign!

DM: ...Oh its not like you needed that money to complete the game or anything.

Fathomless Warlock: (ooc): What? This is what my character would do? This is clearly a serious societal problem for Waterdeep and it's really not safe for all these folks to be sleeping in the dungeons we're crawling through. I'm friends with a lawyer and a cleric and with help from our allies I sure we could swing this. And I just took my fifth of it, like we previously agreed? But look if it's plot important to have a lot of cash on hand, I can pay some of it back to the party pool from my own funds from what I inherited as a noble and just from the treasure we've accumulated on this adventure. You know I'm also still working for the paper and we've got the tavern and that should cover personal expenses...

DM: No no no it's not important.

[Beat]

DM: How much?

Celestial Warlock: And I'm not spending my fifth all at once. It's just sitting there until I use it. At first it's probably gonna be smaller expenditures like flyers and pins. And it's not like we have to pay for TV ads, just need to use my Book of Shadows to learn Skywrite...

DM: Oh, okay... So what will you all spend it on?

[Collective shrug]

Fathomless Warlock: I think you all should get yourselves a fine set of clothes so you don't have to rent a tux again. I already have one because like, you know...

Wizard: I'll be getting spell scrolls and inks to study my magics.

Fathomless Warlock: Cool!

Monk: I bought brass knuckles!

Paladin: Alright, then I'm buying plate mail.

Monk: They cost 10 silver. :)

Paladin: ...I'm still buying plate mail.

Celestial Warlock: That's cool! (Won't have to spend as many slots healing her.)

Paladin: Is that really all you're buying...?

Monk: [thinks for a moment] Steel toe boots? (Can I wear boots as a dragonborn?) ...A second silvered wakazashi in case I lose the first one?

DM: That's it?

Monk: I'm a monk. I don't really need material things. Though I figured I might buy some bamboo and knick knacks and things for our Tavern. If we need more money for the tavern (or the campaign) for the tavern I won a lot of prize money doing those mixed martial arts competitions that I don't really use or need.

DM: No no no that's okay...

[Beat]

DM: How much?

[echo-bleu]

More concept sketches for Maedhros post-Angband needing skeletal support/correction. I focused more on the spine/neck braces this time, I'll draw some more slings and shoulder braces ideas at some point.

Disabled characters series

Closer look + notes/rambling under the cut

The first sketch is really just a preparatory one for the second. It's based pretty directly on an existing scoliosis brace called the Milwaukee brace, which used to be the most common and is still used sometimes for, I believe, high curvatures, which would be the case for Maedhros after being pulled by the arm for so long. The second sketch is a try at a more ornamented design, as Curufin and whichever other Noldor creating it would strive to make it beautiful.

The brace opens at the back and requires some flexibility to put on, so it wouldn't be a very early brace for Maedhros (that and the healers/smiths would need some time to attain a good design). It's geared toward correction and not immobilization, he can still somewhat turn his head but it's supported enough to lessen the pain. Leather pads can be added in various places to help with correction, so I gave him a shoulder pad, but he'd still wear some kind of sling or brace for his arm with it, I think.

The bottom sketch is a more ornamented brace meant for formal occasions, not everyday wear. It's aimed at support only, not correction, I think Maedhros could/would only wear it on a day where he's going to be sitting around and not really moving, like the Mereth Aderthad (he's in no shape or mood for dancing). And only later on, once his spine is more stable. This one also opens in the back with laces and various clasps and it's a lot lighter both visually and literally. I think brass would be a cool metal for this one to go with the leather (would it be solid enough? I have no idea).

There is a transcription of my little notes in alt, but I've basically said it all in the text.

Help I put too much research into this 😭

[hallowpen]

Episode Eleven has a lot to unpack... including some cultural nuances that even I wasn't too knowledgeable about (so I had to ask my mom for clarification)

We're heading to Chao Fah Palace (คุ้มเจ้าฟ้า) in the province of Phrae (แพร่) for this episode... which is derivative of the old Lanna Kingdom and its culture. (We spoke a little bit about Lanna traditions when referencing the hairpins in episode five). Lanna territories are now part of modern-day Siam. In Lanna tradition, women were known as ช้างเท้าหลัง (pronounced 'chang tao lahng') which would literally translate into "the hind legs of the elephant". What it meant was that the direction of a woman's life and family were to be guided by the authority of a man, ช้างเท้าหน้า (pronounced 'chang tao nahr') "the front legs of the elephant". The woman must learn to accept her place. Lanna Buddhist tradition would preach that being born as a woman in this life meant you had not earned enough merit to be born a man, and to pray for better karma in the next lifetime. Ironically, before the rise of Buddhism, Lanna was one of the few territories to practice matrilineal succession... where lineage was passed on from mother to daughter.

Both of these beliefs were somewhat knit together for TLP's narrative in regards to Uangfah... which we'll talk about later.

ผ้าซิ่นตีนจก (pronounced 'pa sin tin jok') is a traditional skirt worn by women in Lanna. The skirts are known to have elaborate borders with strips of precious metals woven together, with spun gold or silver threads, by using a traditional loom. This technique emphasizes the beauty and value of the weaving, as well as the social status of the person wearing the skirt. The garment was generally reserved for high-ranking members of society.

Another practice steeped in Lanna tradition, is the art of making ตุง (pronounced 'toong'). In the northern dialect, this refers to a type of flag used in Lanna art and Buddhist ceremonies. The flags, adorned with various patterns and designs, are used to mark the boundaries of sacred sites as a symbol of the pathway toward enlightenment.

The series highlighted the Phra That Cho Hae Temple (พระธาตุช่อแฮ), which has rich history as a spiritual center and the most sacred Buddhism site in Phrae. Its highlight is the brass wrapped pagoda that stands 33 meters tall, which enshrines holy relics of Lord Buddha.

The Peacock Feather Dance (รำฟ้อนหางนกยูง - pronounced 'ram faan haang nohk-yuung') is a cultural piece of entertainment that sees dancers move in a circle and change positions in order to imitate the movements and courtship "dance" of a peacock. The dancers wear traditional northern costumes while holding peacock feathers. Known for its striking appearance, the peacock holds deep cultural and religious significance in Thailand. It is often associated with the ideas of beauty, royalty, prosperity, and spiritual awakening.

We are introduced to Uangfah's mother this episode. Princess Dararai holds the title of หม่อมเจ้าหญิง (mom-jao ying or M.C.) for being married to a descendant of the king. Princess Dararai wishing for her daughter to remain close to her after marriage has inklings of matrilineal customs, where the husband would typically come to live with the wife's family... and not the other way around.

The suitor Princess Dararai has chosen for her daughter to marry is Lord Muang-Rahm. Muang-Rahm holds the tilte of หม่อมราชวงศ์ (mom rat-cha-wong or M.R.) as a child of one "commoner" parent, but whose ancestry can be traced back to the king.

Uangfah has accepted the fact the she must submit to her mother's wishes and marry a man she does not care for (he's truly terrible... lesbi-honest). It's a bittersweet moment where we realize the realities of a woman who cannot openly pursue the love of another woman, given the views of society.

The proceeding conversation Uangfah has with Muang-Rahm is subtlety indicative of Lanna women who were in charge in their own relationships. Uangfah quietly inserts her authority over their future courtship by informing Muang-Rahm of her intentions to not wed straight away AND by addressing him by his nickname in front of Pia. Given his behavior, Muang-Rahm knows he cannot say anything untoward in order to save face... such a fun scene.

SHE KNOWS!!! The facial expressions 😂😂😂... you have to laugh

Anil and Pin have become more reckless the more comfortable they have become in their relationship... and that spells trouble ahead.

[denial-permanente]

Hey thanks for your reply regarding that model. For the guy who asked, it does look like a cobra knockoff but I see it's made in the Netherlands and carries the EU approval stamp on the box, which should make it a cheaper but safe alternative to the cobra. Or at least I hope that's what it means.

Whether it's good in it's design, that's Tom's call!

🔏 Even the OG Cobra may use dyes in their resin that causes allergic reactions for some people.

Even the metal cages can be a problem for some. The Chinese cages generally use 304 stainless which is very common, but has traces of metals that may cause itching. I have even heard of some guys who can't wear the more expensive 316 grade cages.

Years ago, the original CB3000 was made with a hinged cuff ring. The hinge was a shiny, silver colored rivet. Some guys had itching that did not seem to be related to the hinge shape; it turned out that the rivet was brass plated in nickel or chrome - both metals known for skin reactivity.

[magicicephoenix]

I cannot wait to see more this au because I swear I am gobbling it up so hard rn

Can you leave us a few tidbits about this au owo?

i’m glad y’all are excited about it bc i am brainrotting SO HARD over these jokesters rhrhhhh

tidbits! absolutely i'll give you tidbits!!!

to set things straight! the Moon takes the role of the Doctor and the Sun takes the place of the Master. and Y/N is the Moon's companion of course.

Y/N ran into Moon while he was investigating some mystery (still figuring it out it’ll be really cool i prommy) and got tangled up in the danger. as seen in the initial post, Moon abruptly wraps a small blue ribbon with a little brass bell on their wrist, saying it’s “to be safe,” whatever that means. Y/N asks and while Moon does later elaborate (again, i’ll let y’all know that reason when i hammer out the mystery) there is something he leaves out in his explanation. he encourages Y/N to keep it afterwards, for extra safety, so they just end up wearing it permanently.

Y/N is a classic ‘nobody’ character. in their twenties, living alone, somewhat distant from their family, previously working a crappy job… they were in the perfect position to join Moon on his travelling.

the little necklace/collar things around Moon (and Sun)'s neck is a cloaking device! it's for if he goes into a time where cyborgs and animatronics aren't accepted as living beings; it conceals his non-organic-ness so no one notices (yes, this applies to Y/N at the start. they did Not know he wasn't human when they first met. and Moon would not have told them if his cover wasn't forcibly blown). it's kinda like the perception filter in that it doesn't project anything to cover him up, just encourages the mind to ignore anything about him that would cause trouble. and there is a reason that Moon's has a sun on it and Sun's has a moon on it. :)

finally, in the beginning of the au Moon has no idea Sun is alive. he is conflicted about it but mostly very very sad. doesn’t tell Y/N a peep about it though. internalizing! *throws confetti* something he and Sun have had in common.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Gold

beautiful words with "gold" for your next poem/story

Goldbrick - a worthless brick that appears to be of gold; something that appears to be valuable but is actually worthless

Goldcrest - golden-crested kinglet, specifically: a tiny European kinglet (Regulus regulus) having a bright yellow crown patch bordered with black

Goldcup - buttercup; a marsh marigold (Caltha palustris)

Goldenbush - any of various rabbitbrushes (especially genus Ericameria)

Goldeneye - either of two diving ducks (genus Bucephala) with small yellow eyes; a lacewing (family Chrysopidae) with yellow eyes

Goldentwig - a red osier dogwood (Cornus stolonifera flaviramea) with yellow branchlets

Goldenwing - a flicker (Colaptes auratus) or a kind of woodpecker

Goldflower - any of several yellow-flowered or predominantly yellow-flowered composite plants

Goldmist - a grayish yellow that is greener and very slightly lighter than chamois and greener, lighter, and stronger than old ivory or crash

Goldspink - the European goldfinch

Goldstone - aventurine glass spangled close and fine with particles of gold-colored material

Goldthread - a plant of the genus Coptis especially: a low smooth perennial North American herb (C. groenlandica) with alternately divided leaves and a bright yellow rootstock

Goldweed - any of several plants of the genus Ranunculus especially: corn crowfoot i.e., a common European crowfoot (Ranunculus arvensis) with pale yellow flowers and spiny achenes

Marigold - any of a genus (Tagetes) of composite herbs with showy usually yellow, orange, or maroon flower heads

Palegold - a metallic powder made of a brass alloy and having the appearance of gold when used as a paint pigment

If any of these words inspire your writing, do tag me or send me a link. I'd love to read your work!

More: Word Lists

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Belltower Triangle
Wondrous item, common ___ This brass triangle comes with a dangling set of bells and a beater in the shape of a clock’s hand. When you strike the triangle using an action, it rings until the start of your next turn. The triangle emits a soft tone, like a bell struck with a soft hammer, that’s audible out to a range of 120 feet. For the duration, any creature that hears the sound magically knows what time of day it is, up to the nearest quarter hour. Once this property of the triangle has been used, it can’t be used again until midday or midnight, whichever comes first. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[shannonsketches]

I noticed that the element of the triforce that the individual characters are supposed to represent, is also their weakness. Zelda's wisdom is being stifled by doubt and lack of experience; she's eager to learn, but her zeal is not enough and relies on faith and Link to save the day. I'm not implying that wisdom and faith cannot go hand in hand, but she needs to be able to represent her element more. Maybe her wisdom is knowing when to wait and allow someone else to bear the task? But it takes away too much initiative from her. Ganon's element is power but he's the one who ends up losing almost every time. And Ganondorf on his own, isn't powerless! He's a king, he knows magic, he can wield almost any weapon, he's patient, conniving and intelligent and knows how to make best with what he has. He isn't weak! And yet, the whole split happened, because he was feeling powerless.

They locked themselves in a self-sabotaging cycle that's powered by doubt.

Yeah! So one of the reasons I really love the Triforce lore is that it’s a three-way mirror that reflects both what the user has and also what they need (very wizard of oz).

Ganondorf is a very powerful man, physically, and magically.

Politically, though, he’s next to helpless, which is an awful thing for a king to be. He’s a king of thieves in OoT, because the Gerudo are not a wealthy or thriving nation there. In-Game they don’t have a local living area like the other regions (or even a store — just one floating bombchu salesman in the middle of the desert) — they’ve got a post-war fortress full of guards, and a temple that is being used as a secret base Hylians can’t get to.

Consider also, Ganondorf is the most highly decorated of the Gerudo, and he’s not decked out in gold. He’s wearing mostly iron and topaz. Nabooru and Twinrova are the only ones who have gold fixtures/jewelry along with the higher ranked guards for their protective elements (which is why I think it could arguably be pale bronze or yellow brass, which is a common and highly durable gold alternative).

The Gerudo are implicitly just surviving in OoT, and Hyrule speaks of them like they’re monsters (except for the one guy in town who has a fetish). More than that, WW establishes that his real grief comes from the weather, which any mortal is powerless to control.

So Ganondorf is powerful as a person, but powerless as a king, which is literally the only thing he was born to be.

Be that as it may, though, he is a well-loved king, and a survivor, and a thief, so he also has to embody both wisdom and courage too!

Zelda is the most obvious mirror to Ganondorf. She is a very powerful woman politically and magically, but physically-- compared to Ganondorf -- she's terribly meek. That's the obvious read, that they're 1:1 Parallels, but her real weakness lies in her courage.

Zelda (in OoT) leans on her massive political power -- In the child timeline, she literally sees a foreign dignitary executed before he does anything wrong, based on a recurring dream she has.

Do you know how insane that is? Do you realize how powerful she is?

Ganondorf is not just some guy -- he's a foreign KING. He's a KING that a TEN YEAR OLD had EXECUTED based on VIBES.

And we think she embodies wisdom because her vibes were (as we, the audience know) correct. But it's actually because as an adult, she understands that none of it needed to happen that way. That the only reason Ganondorf was able to pull off his stunt and get the Triforce at all was because she tried to control the situation, sending Link to gather everything Ganondorf couldn't get himself and put it all precisely where Ganondorf needed it to be.

Despite being a child at the time, by the end of the story, by the time she's Sheik, Zelda is taking full responsibility for what happened, and is doing everything in her now extremely limited power to fix it. She's so sorry to need Link, and at the end of it all is desperate to give him another chance to be a kid, and to be innocent, and to be happy, because she realized so quickly that she never should've involved him, visions be damned. She knows none of it was his fault or his business, and she's mortified that she dragged him into it in her own attempt to control the weather.

These other two items shift in other games -- WW and Twilight Princess show us a Zelda with tremendous courage and very little power, physical or political. And then the Wild's era, despite removing the Triforce narrative, shows us a Zelda with immense power and terrible guilt and insecurity -- her power locked behind her fear, and she is only able to access both when she embraces courage.

Which brings us to Link.

Link, on the surface, is a third wheel in a chess game between ancients. But the reality is that he's the base of the prism. He's the foundation that reflects both of the others.

There are MANY different personalities for Link, and personally my favorite gag is that Link is simply too stupid to be scared, but that's just a gag -- because something I've come to really enjoy and respect about him is that he consistently displays fear. Link embodies courage because he is full of fear and chooses to fight anyway. Link leads a good life. He is comfortable, he has family, he has friends, he knows peace. What makes Link courageous is that he is willing to give up his access to all of that if it means that everyone else keeps theirs.

Link will lock himself in a room with the apocalypse if it means he's the only one who gets hurt, and it's not because he believes this is his sacred duty, or his life's purpose -- he'd much rather be at home chasing chickens around or riding his pony through some pretty scenic route -- it's because he is so full of love for other people that he's willing to give up anything to keep them safe.

Link's not very powerful, but he is also unburdened by any desire to be powerful. Link's not very wise, but he is unburdened by any desire to be wise. Link is content in who he is, Link is happy to keep things simple. But Link is so brave that he becomes a leader, which actually makes him the most dangerous of the three.

Courage, unburdened, is fucking terrifying. To both Wisdom and Power. Because, unlike Wisdom and Power, Courage is contagious.

Link can empower and inspire and reveal truths others might not have been able to find on their own. Link doesn't need charisma or brutality. Link can build armies just by being observed.

"But Sketches, you haven't really said anything about how Link reflects the other two." It's subtle! But he does. I see it like this:

• Ganondorf reflects Link's relentless determination, refusing to stand down in the face of impossible odds. In this way, they're connected by their power and courage. • Zelda reflects Ganondorf's burden of being born in a crown, forcing them to learn leadership, and how to use their recklessness strategically, as children. In this way, they're connected by their power and wisdom. • Link reflects Zelda's sense of love for the faceless innocent, and her dedication to protecting all who can't protect themselves. In this way, they're connected by their courage and wisdom.

Because the inherent configuration of the triforce requires those connections to be balanced -- Separately they are overwhelmed by their traits. Ganondorf is willing to sacrifice everything he is in order to reach his goals, Zelda is so pre-occupied with preventing prophecy she ends up instigating it, and Link is so ready to step in and help that he never considers the consequences.

Every single one of them, left to their own devices, would rather see themselves destroyed than fail those who may or may not be relying on their success. They're all very similar, highly reflective characters who all represent compelling foils for each other and yes, display how their unfettered strengths are also the thing that damage them most.