#conflict zenith

[guilty-shot]

@lesterpesterson

The three have been riding for a while now, it would usually start to get boring right about now, especially with how badly conversations go on loud bikes.

The blue hills would just keep flying past, but interest arose as a bizarre, droning, unnaturally mechanical chord slowly faded in from high up.

The bike slowed down, and everybody looked up above to see weird aircraft flying above. They featured wings, jet-like shines on the back, and all that planes needed. All human technology, yet none of them were anything like Lester saw before.

…

…why are they flying in all directions?

!!!

With a sudden sharp turn, Kip swung the bike right off the side of the highway, nearly causing the passengers to fall out. She stopped the bike. The reason for this all arrived shortly after, as a very large, behemoth of a vehicle drove past, taking up the whole highway.

One could only procces a set of tank treads the size of a house, shining spotlights on the road, driving at speeds of a sports car. This terror seemingly flew by three more times, with more aircraft flying by at lower altitude, all lifting a noticable wind.

…everyone was definitely shocked by this.

[killikhive]

oh yeah ive been losing my mind over whatever the hell is going on with zenith and antaeres btw

they are so alike and because of the ways they are alike neither of them can really trust the other but also they understand each other in a way that no one else really does. IT'S SO GOOD....

[moe-broey]

WHAOFH

This is literally so fucking funny I was just laying down thinking about all the potential for stupid family/found family dynamics and was like. Man... I really haven't given Thrasir a lot of thought .... I wonder when she'll be summonable again..... Oh? Now? Hm. Okay. Freyja color sharing? Augh.... it May be useful to get her........ for studying purposes .......... maybe I'll give it a shot -- AH

[wanderingandfound]

#as a wanderhome appreciator #and a general 'coziness' resenter #it's always so weird to me to see wanderhome compared to severe weenie-ass bullhonkey of the dancing-allowed-footloose ilk #like wanderhome doesn't have a system for combat. sure. #but there's a pall hanging over the whole setting #like i don't wanna get all fuckin lacan in tags but #sometimes the absence of a thing weighs a lot more than its presence #everyone talks about the veteran like ooo wow kills you instantly and becomes unplayable what a quirky thing for the 'cozy' game #as if that playbook isn't there to point a blood red finger at an absence (via @anonajn)

some indie TTRPG settings are so obsessed with being Wholesome and Low Conflict that they end up being like "what if Footloose was set in a town where dancing was ALLOWED!"

well I'll tell you. the answer is that that would not be very interesting

[philokaliist]

'Jealousy'

Clarisse La Rue x DaughterOfApollo!Reader

In which Clarisse gets jealous after you kiss Luke

Clarisse strolled through the lively grounds of Camp Half-Blood and her expression was as fierce as ever.However, beneath that tough exterior, there was a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within her.

It all began with you,a daughter of Apollo known for your radiant smile and musical talents. You and Clarisse had been friends, or rather,reluctant allies since your days in the camp.The tension between you was palpable,fueled by your differing personalities and the constant competition for recognition as formidable demigods.

One sunny afternoon, the simmering conflict boiled over into a heated argument.You and Clarisse clashed in a verbal spar near the training arena,your voices echoing off the surrounding trees.The words you exchanged were sharp and cutting,each accusing the other of perceived weaknesses and failures.

Amidst the escalating tension, a familiar figure approached, Luke Castellan, the charismatic son of Hermes. Luke had a way of navigating through conflicts with a sly grin, but on this occasion, he found himself inadvertently caught in the crossfire of you and Clarisse's feud.

As the argument reached its zenith,you, perhaps fueled by a combination of frustration and a desire to one-up Clarisse, did the unthinkable.With a defiant glint in your eyes,you turned to Luke and planted a passionate,lingering kiss on his lips.

Clarisse's rage flared to new heights, and her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword. However, something unexpected happened. Instead of escalating into a full-blown brawl, the tension shifted, and an electric charge lingered in the air. The intense gaze between you transformed, and the anger that had fueled your argument morphed into something else entirely-pure,unadultered fury.

She grabbed your hand forcefully - not even attempting to be gentle,and dragged you all the way back to her cabin - which luckily for her and unluckily for you - was empty at the time.She slammed you against the wall,towering over you,her hands placed on the wall behind you,resting besides the sides of your face.She looked right at you,her eyes burning holes through you as she leaned in,whispering in your ear

"You wanted to make me jealous?Was that your fucking plan?Of course it was.Then...I'll show you just how jealous I can be when someone touches what's mine,angel."

A/N:I need her so bad it's not even funny anymore

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hey, I wanted to ask, do you have any tips for numbers and their meanings, For example: what does the number 5 represent?

Writing Notes: Symbolism of Numbers

In symbolism, numbers are not merely the expressions of quantities, but idea-forces, each with a particular character of its own.

The actual digits are, as it were, only the outer garments.

All numbers are derived from the number one (which is equivalent to the mystic, nonmanifest point of no magnitude).

The farther a number is from unity, the more deeply it is involved in matter, in the involutive process, in the“world.”

The first 10 numbers in the Greek system (or twelve in the oriental tradition) pertain to the spirit: they are entities, archetypes and symbols.

The rest are the product of combinations of these basic numbers.

Below are the most generally accepted symbolic meanings of each number.

ZERO

Non-being, mysteriously connected with unity as its opposite and its reflection; it is symbolic of the latent and potential and is the “Orphic Egg.”

From the viewpoint of man in existence, it symbolizes death as the state in which the life-forces are transformed.

Because of its circular form, it signifies eternity.

ONE

Symbolic of being and of the revelation to men of the spiritual essence.

The active principle which, broken into fragments, gives rise to multiplicity, and is to be equated with the mystic Centre, the Irradiating Point and the Supreme Power.

Stands for spiritual unity—the common basis among all beings.

Guénon draws a distinction between unity and one, after the Islamic mystic thinkers: unity differs from one in that it is absolute and complete in itself, admitting neither two nor dualism.

Hence, unity is the symbol of divinity.

Is also equated with light.

TWO

Stands for echo, reflection, conflict and counterpoise or contraposition; or the momentary stillness of forces in equilibrium; it also corresponds to the passage of time—the line which goes from behind forward; it is expressed geometrically by two points, two lines or an angle.

It is also symbolic of the first nucleus of matter, of nature in opposition to the creator, of the moon as opposed to the sun.

In all esoteric thought, two is regarded as ominous: it connotes shadow and the bisexuality of all things, or dualism (represented by the basic myth of the Gemini) in the sense of the connecting-link between the immortal and the mortal, or of the unvarying and the varying.

Within the mystic symbolism of landscape in megalithic culture, two is associated with the mandorla-shaped mountain, the focal point of symbolic Inversion, forming the crucible of life and comprising the two opposite poles of good and evil, life and death.

THREE

Symbolizes spiritual synthesis, and is the formula for the creation of each of the worlds.

Represents the solution of the conflict posed by dualism.

Forms a half-circle comprising: birth, zenith and descent.

Geometrically it is expressed by three points and by the triangle.

The harmonic product of the action of unity upon duality.

The number concerned with basic principles, and expresses sufficiency, or the growth of unity within itself.

Associated with the concepts of heaven and the Trinity.

FOUR

Symbolic of the earth, of terrestrial space, of the human situation, of the external, natural limits of the “minimum” awareness of totality, and, finally, of rational organization.

Equated with the square and the cube, and the cross representing the four seasons and the points of the compass.

A great many material and spiritual forms are modelled after the quaternary.

The number associated with tangible achievement and with the Elements.

In mystic thought, it represents the tetramorphs.

FIVE

Symbolic of Man, health and love, and of the quintessence acting upon matter.

Comprises the four limbs of the body plus the head which controls them, and likewise the four fingers plus the thumb and the four cardinal points together with the centre.

The hieros gamos is signified by the number five, since it represents the union of the principle of heaven (three) with that of the Magna Mater (two).

Geometrically, it is the pentagram, or the five-pointed star.

Corresponds to pentagonal symmetry, a common characteristic of organic nature, to the golden section (as noted by the Pythagoreans), and to the five senses representing the five “forms” of matter.

SIX

Symbolic of ambivalence and equilibrium, six comprises the union of the two triangles (of fire and water) and hence signifies the human soul.

The Greeks regarded it as a symbol of the hermaphrodite.

It corresponds to the six Directions of Space (two for each dimension), and to the cessation of movement (since the Creation took six days).

Hence it is associated with trial and effort.

Shown to be related to virginity, and to the scales.

SEVEN

Symbolic of perfect order, a complete period or cycle.

Comprises the union of the ternary and the quaternary, and hence it is endowed with exceptional value.

Corresponds to the seven Directions of Space (that is, the six existential dimensions plus the centre), to the seven-pointed star, to the reconciliation of the square with the triangle by superimposing the latter upon the former (as the sky over the earth) or by inscribing it within.

It is the number forming the basic series of musical notes, of colours and of the planetary spheres, as well as of the gods corresponding to them; and also of the capital sins and their opposing virtues.

Corresponds to the three-dimensional cross.

The symbol of pain.

EIGHT

The octonary, related to two squares or the octagon, is the intermediate form between the square (or the terrestrial order) and the circle (the eternal order) and is, in consequence, a symbol of regeneration.

By virtue of its shape, the numeral is associated with the two interlacing serpents of the caduceus, signifying the balancing out of opposing forces or the equivalence of the spiritual power to the natural.

It also symbolizes—again because of its shape—the eternally spiralling movement of the heavens (shown also by the double sigmoid line—the sign of the infinite).

Because of its implications of regeneration, eight was in the Middle Ages an emblem of the waters of baptism.

Corresponds in mediaeval mystic cosmogony to the fixed stars of the firmament, denoting that the planetary influences have been overcome.

NINE

The triangle of the ternary, and the triplication of the triple.

It is therefore a complete image of the three worlds.

The end-limit of the numerical series before its return to unity.

For the Hebrews, it was the symbol of truth, being characterized by the fact that when multiplied it reproduces itself (in mystic addition).

In medicinal rites, it is the symbolic number par excellence, for it represents triple synthesis, that is, the disposition on each plane of the corporal, the intellectual and the spiritual.

TEN

Symbolic, in decimal systems, of the return to unity.

In the Tetractys (whose triangle of points—four, three, two, one—adds up to ten) it is related to four.

Symbolic also of spiritual achievement, as well as of unity in its function as an even (or ambivalent) number or as the beginning of a new, multiple series.

According to some theories, ten symbolizes the totality of the universe—both metaphysical and material—since it raises all things to unity.

From ancient oriental thought through the Pythagorean school and right up to St. Jerome, it was known as the number of perfection.

ELEVEN

Symbolic of transition, excess and peril and of conflict and martyrdom.

According to Schneider, there is an infernal character about it: since it is in excess of the number of perfection—ten—it therefore stands for incontinence; but at the same time it corresponds, like two, to the mandorla-shaped mountain, to the focal point of symbolic Inversion and antithesis, because it is made up of one plus one (comparable in a way with two).

TWELVE

Symbolic of cosmic order and salvation.

It corresponds to the number of the signs of the Zodiac, and is the basis of all dodecanary groups.

Linked to it are the notions of space and time, and the wheel or circle.

THIRTEEN

Symbolic of death and birth, of beginning afresh.

Hence it has unfavourable implications.

FOURTEEN

Stands for fusion and organization.

And for justice and temperance.

FIFTEEN

Markedly erotic.

Associated with the devil.

OTHER NUMBERS

Tarot

Each of the numbers from sixteen to twenty-two is related to the corresponding card of the Tarot pack; and sometimes the meaning is derived from the fusion of the symbols of the units composing it.

There are two ways in which this fusion may occur: either by mystic addition (for example, 374 = 3 + 7 + 4 = 14 = 1 + 4 = 5) or by succession, in which case the right-hand digit expresses the outcome of a situation denoted by the left-hand number (so 21 expresses the reduction of a conflict—two—to its solution—unity).

These numbers also possess certain meanings drawn from traditional sources and remote from their intrinsic symbolism:

24, for example, is the sacred number in Sankhya philosophy, and

50 is very common in Greek mythology—there were fifty Danaides, fifty Argonauts, fifty sons of Priam and of Aegyptus, for example as a symbol, we would suggest, of that powerful quality of the erotic and human which is so typical of Hellenic myths.

Repetition

The repetition of a given number stresses its quantitative power but detracts from its spiritual dignity.

So, for example, 666 was the number of the Beast because 6 was regarded as inferior to seven.

Contained within a multiple

When several kinds of symbolic meaning are contained within a multiple number, the symbolism of that number is accordingly enriched and strengthened.

Thus, 144 was considered very favourable because its sum was 9 (1 + 4 + 4) and because it comprises multiples of 10 and 4 plus the quaternary itself.

Lastly: Dante, in the Divine Comedy, has frequent recourse to the symbolism of numbers.

Sources: 1 2 3

More: On Symbolism

Hope this helps, would love to read your writing if it does!

[slavicdelight]

The Last Embrace

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Lannister! OC

Summary: Lorelle, Tywin Lannister's youngest daughter, forms an unexpected alliance with Oberyn Martell after defeating him in a duel. Their love blossoms, but tragedy strikes when jealousy leads to everything falling apart.

Warnings: death, cursing, angst

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In the heart of the Westerlands, Tywin Lannister welcomed his youngest daughter into the world, a fierce and spirited girl named Lorelle. From the beginning, her fiery nature clashed with the traditional expectations of a lady born into such a prestigious family.

As Lorelle grew, her independent spirit grew with her, driving her further away from learning of noble etiquette. She abandoned needlework for the training yard, where she observed the art of swordsmanship. Tywin, torn between pride and concern, could only watch as her interest differed from other young noble ladies. Word of Lorelle's exceptional skill with sword spread through the Seven Kingdoms, reaching the ears of Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper of Dorne. Although he despised the Lannisters for what happened to his beloved sister Elia, he was curious if the rumours were true.

The first encounter between the two was marked by a clash of swords, or in this case - a spear and a sword. Each duel became a battleground for dominance, a fierce dance where neither was willing to yield.Oberyn's disdain for the Westerlands and its houses fueled the fire of their rivalry. In his eyes Lorelle was not just an opponent but a symbol of everything he despised about the realm.

Despite their hatered for each other, they decided to combine forces to travel together through Essos.The tension between them kept both nobles balanced on the egde.Yet, amidst the clashes, moments of understanding and mutual respect began to emerge.It wasn't until a decisive duel where Lorelle emerged triumphant that Oberyn's disdain began to shift. As he lay defeated, he finally acknowledge her skill. The dislike eventually evolved into a strange alliance, a bond forged on the edge of blades and the heat of their conflicting personalities.

During their tumultuous journey, Lorelle and Oberyn faced numerous challenges, each encounter adding layers to their complex relationship.One day, as they were riding through Pentos, a group of men attacked them. They were strong and quick. It was obvious that they’ve been trained to steal and kill. Thankfully, Oberyn's quick thinking and combat finesse saved Lorelle from an ambush, blurring the lines between adversary and ally. The tension that once defined their interactions slowly transformed into something more.

When Oberyn knelt before her, proposing a marriage with sincerity in his eyes, the tension reached its zenith. Tywin, recognizing the potential for an alliance, reluctantly agreed to their union. Lorelle became the Princess of Dorne, thrust into a political landscape that mirrored the complexities of her relationship with Oberyn.Yet, tragedy struck their already fragile union.

Ellaria Sand, fueled by jealousy and resentment, plotted against Lorelle. In a venomous act of betrayal, she poisoned the Princess of Dorne. As Lorelle's life slipped away, Oberyn's grief transformed into a burning desire for revenge, reigniting the tension between them in a different, more profound way. In a fit of righteous fury, Oberyn confronted Ellaria. The clash was brutal, mirroring the intensity of his battles with Lorelle.

In the end, justice was served, but the cost was high. Oberyn stood still after delivering avenging the woman he loved, a shattered man, his heart torn between the love he discovered and the unresolved tension that lingered between him and the memory of Lorelle.

In the aftermath, the halls of Sunspear echoed with a haunting silence. Oberyn, having avenged Lorelle, found himself with conflicting emotions. The memory of their fierce clashes lingered, intertwined with the love he discovered and the unresolved tension that defined their relationship.

As Princess of Dorne, Lorelle's absence left a void in the court. The alliances formed through her marriage hung in delicate balance. Oberyn, once fueled by a desire for revenge, now faced the aftermath of his actions. The people of Dorne witnessed a Red Viper who had lost his venom, a man torn between the love he found and the ghosts of his tumultuous past. The court of Sunspear whispered of Lorelle's legacy – a fiery princess who defied conventions, a skilled swordswoman who left a mark on the pages of history. Yet, the tragedy that befell her cast a shadow over the realm, a stark reminder of the fragility of alliances and the cost of vengeance.

Oberyn, haunted by the memories of Lorelle, retreated into solitude. The tension that once fueled their clashes now manifested as an internal struggle within him. The flames of revenge had consumed him, and in their wake, he was left with the ashes of regret.In the quiet corridors of Sunspear, Oberyn's gaze lingered on the places where he and Lorelle had faced both adversaries and each other. The sword that once clashed with hers now rested, a silent witness to the battles fought and the love lost.As the years passed, Dorne found itself in a delicate dance of politics and intrigue.

The memory of Lorelle became both a symbol of defiance and a cautionary tale. Oberyn, a once vibrant force, moved through the shadows of the court, a man forever marked by the flames that burned between him and the Princess of Dorne. And so, the tale of Lorelle and Oberyn became a legend – a story of love, rivalry, and the high cost of vengeance that echoed through the corridors of Sunspear, leaving behind a legacy as enduring as the ancient stones of the castle.

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A/N: This is a shorter story, but I hope you'll enjoy it just like the other ones.

[dragonfly0808]

Musa and Tecna’s First Conversation

the next little drabble! After I finish the next one (will put up a poll for it soon) I’ll start putting these on AO3

This is set in the middle season 1 chapter 5

Musa followed Tecna into their dorm, happy to not have been dragged into helping Stella with her unpacking.

She’d heard about the famous spell Alfea used to have every dorm suit their residents perfectly. She’d been excited to see what form her half of the dorm took.

It was obvious at a glance which side was meant to be hers, the walls painted a burgundy red with a few black circles at the corners. The bed covered in different sized pillows and a dark red comforter.

Her closet doors were open and the space seemed to be divided in two. Half the space meant for her clothes, the other she assumed was to hold her instruments.

An oak desk rested against the wall, already holding a few music sheets and a jar for pens. Her nightstands were of a dark cherry color.

Tecna’s walls were painted a lilac color, with a metallic desk and metal shelves painted an electric green, a vibrant green comforter and plush pillows on her bed.

Tecna heaved her metal suitcase on to the bed, the suitcase seeming to expand somehow, splitting into a few different compartments.

Musa carefully took down her guitar from her shoulder, placing it in the closet. There were a few boxes around both their beds, the belongings that had been transported there from their home planets.

She wanted to get unpacking out of the way, it seemed Tecna had the same idea as she threw her half-translucent closet doors open and started sorting out her clothes.

As Musa went to open the first of her boxes, a slight conflict stirred at the pit of her stomach as she took out her carefully wrapped cello and arc.

Should she put on the headphones hanging around her neck and put on some music? Try and talk to her new roommate?

Musa wasn’t the most talkative person, but somehow Tecna looked even less talkative than her. She had an air about her, seeming almost tense as she cast one or two glances her way.

Right as she was about to pull on her headphones-

“You like music?” Came Tecna’s voice, tense and awkward as she cast another glance her way.

Musa snorted, opening another box and pulling out her flute and her bass, “What gave you that impression?”

Tecna ducked her head down, blushing as she slightly shrunk into herself.

oh, no.

“I-I mean… yeah. I really love music.” She quickly rectified, realizing she might’ve been a little too dry in her delivery, “But don’t worry, I’ll try to keep it down.”

“I don’t think I’ll mind it. I mean, I come from a pretty loud house. Music will be a nice change of pace.” Tecna offered as she turned her back, quickly filling her closet, shoulders still a bit raised.

“Loud house? You got siblings?” Musa asked, still feeling the other girl uneasy.

“A big sister and a little brother… you?”

“Nah. It’s just uh… it’s just me and my dad.”

“Mmm.” Musa was glad she didn’t go to ask about her mom, “And you’re from…”

“Melody. You?”

“Zenith. The rural side. My family uh- we have a lightning farm.”

“Sounds cool.” 

AAAAAGGGHHHHHHH 

This was awkward.

Was this what Musa was going to have to deal with for the whole year?

No. This was just their first meeting.

And it was embarrassingly evident that neither of them were really sure how to continue the conversation.

Musa wracked her brain for something to say, anything.

But there was nothing, so after another minute of silence, she put on her headphones and focused on unpacking.

She mostly forgot about her roommate as she worked quickly, after about an hour, sitting at her desk and starring down her sheets of music when the clinking of metal caught her ear even through the guitar chords coming from her headphones and she turned to see Tecna overturning one last box on her bed to dump a bunch of pieces on the bed, frowning for a moment before climbing on the bed and starting to separate the metal pieces into small piles Musa was sure had some kind of categorization even if she had no clue what it might be.

She hesitated before allowing her headphones to fall on her collarbone.

“Ummm… what’s that?”

Tecna looked up, clearly surprised at Musa speaking to her again, a hand holding a screwdriver.

“Oh… a computer. Well- the pieces of it.”

“…and why is it in pieces?”

“Well…” Tecna hesitated, eyes darting around, “I have an… okay computer back home. But I’ve been collecting pieces from a few of the companies from the technological side to build a better computer. My mom offered to just go buy one but I took it as a summer project to find all the pieces. And I made a few blueprints now I just have to… build it.”

“…that… is actually like really cool. Respect girlie.” Musa snorted as Tecna chuckled through her nerves.

“I’d tell you I’m not usually this weird but… I’m pretty sure that’d be lying.”

Musa smiled, “Believe me, I don’t mind a little weird. It’s what makes people fun.”

Tecna rolled her eyes, but she was still smirking so she obviously didn’t mind, “And what are you doing?”

Musa sighed dramatically, “Trying to figure out a chord progression for a song I’ve been working on.”

“You’re an artist?”

“Aspiring.”

“Mmm.”

They both held each other’s gaze for a moment before returning to their project.

Musa adjusted her guitar in her lap as inspiration suddenly struck.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so awkward between the two.

[nomercymaster11]

Turbulent Currents

Author's note: I've been trying to divert myself from unnecessary emotions, so I attempted to craft a lengthy story. So, basically, the story will once again revolve around the Heart Pirates, joined by the Straw Hat Pirates. It's an open narrative, and I'm not adhering to any timeline from the original One Piece story. I've been contemplating various scenarios that have been on my mind for quite some time, and I aim to connect them into a cohesive storyline. The story below has a sad tone. I suggest to play "The World's Continuation" by Ado while reading.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the Heart Pirates' ship as it anchored near a secluded island. Tension lingered in the air, palpable and suffocating. The crew moved about the deck; their usual camaraderie replaced by an unsettling quiet. Among them, you stood, your eyes locked in a fierce gaze with Trafalgar Law.

The argument had been fierce, echoing through the ship like a tempest. It all revolved around a perilous mission, an expedition into a dangerous territory to retrieve a mystical artifact crucial for the Heart Pirates' plans. You, a key member of the crew, held the key to success. Yet, your disagreement with Law had escalated beyond the realm of a mere difference in strategy. It became a clash of ideologies, a storm of conflicting opinions.

The scene was set on the deck, a battleground where words were the weapons of choice. Law, his demeanor usually composed, couldn't contain the frustration in his eyes. His gestures were sharp, hands punctuating each argument as he tried to make you see reason.

"You're jeopardizing the entire mission with your reckless ideas! This artifact is our only chance," Law exclaimed, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

Your response was equally defiant, fueled by a sense of principle. "I won't compromise our morals for the sake of some artifact. There has to be another way."

The exchange continued, each word deepening the chasm between you and the captain. As the argument reached its zenith, something inside you snapped. The weight of the disagreement, the burden of being the linchpin in this perilous plan, became too much.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, you stood at the precipice of a life-altering decision.

Bepo, the polar bear mink and loyal member of the Heart Pirates, approached with a furrowed brow, his usually jovial demeanor replaced by concern.

"Please, don't go," he implored, his voice laced with sincerity.

The deck was crowded with crew members, their gazes shifting uncomfortably between you and Law. Bepo's furry hand gently reached for your shoulder, a plea for reconsideration.

"I can't stay, Bepo. Our ideals are just too different," you replied, your voice betraying the internal turmoil. The moonlit deck became a stage for the silent struggle within the Heart Pirates.

Bepo's eyes held a mixture of sadness and frustration. "But you're family. We need you for this mission. Law needs you."

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and you shook your head. "I can't compromise who I am for the sake of a mission. There has to be another way, and I can't follow blindly when our principles clash."

As the exchange unfolded, other crew members gathered, their expressions torn between loyalty to their captain and concern for a comrade. The ship, usually alive with the sounds of camaraderie, now bore witness to a somber scene.

In the midst of this, Trafalgar Law remained aloof, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. Bepo, not one to be easily deterred, approached Law with a sense of urgency.

"Captain, please reconsider. We can't afford to lose them," Bepo urged, his tone a blend of respect and desperation.

Law, however, remained stoic, his eyes reflecting the conflict within. "This mission is bigger than any one person. We can't afford distractions."

"But they are not just a distraction! They're a vital part of this crew," Bepo argued, his plea echoing the sentiments of the crew members gathered on the deck.

Law's silence hung heavy, a cold barrier between him and the crew. The ship, once a symbol of unity, now felt divided by a rift that seemed insurmountable. As you turned away, stepping onto the island, the ship's departure signaled the beginning of a solitary chapter, leaving behind a fractured crew grappling with the aftermath of a heated exchange and the departure of a crucial member.

The island embraced you with its tranquil solitude, offering a momentary refuge from the storm of emotions that raged within. As the Heart Pirates' ship vanished over the horizon, the lush foliage and calming sounds of the island became witnesses to your contemplation.

Seeking shelter for the night, you stumbled upon a small, abandoned cottage nestled in the heart of the island. The wooden structure, weathered by time and forgotten by its inhabitants, seemed like a silent companion for your troubled thoughts.

Entering the cottage, the air was thick with a musty scent, a testament to the passage of time. Moonlight filtered through the cracks in the wooden walls, casting ethereal patterns on the dusty floor. The silence within was broken only by the distant rustle of leaves and the occasional night sounds of the island.

Alone with your thoughts, you sank onto a creaky wooden chair, your mind replaying the events on the Heart Pirates' ship. The argument with Law echoed in your ears, and the pain of leaving a crew you considered family weighed heavily on your heart.

In the dim light, you traced the contours of a faded portrait on the wall - a depiction of happier times, the crew united in laughter and camaraderie. The faces of Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, and Law stared back at you, a stark reminder of the bonds that now seemed strained.

The ache in your chest intensified as you recalled the concern in Bepo's eyes, the futile attempts to persuade you to stay. The memory of Law's stoic refusal to reconsider gnawed at you, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of unresolved emotions.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you stared out of a cracked window at the moonlit landscape. The gentle rustling of leaves outside seemed to carry the weight of your contemplation.

"Why does it hurt so much?" you whispered to the empty room, the words hanging in the air.

The sense of loss, not just of a mission but of the camaraderie you had cherished, enveloped you like a shroud. The realization that your principles had driven a wedge between you and the crew you held dear stung deeply.

As the night wore on, the cottage became a haven for your introspection. The pain of departure mingled with the longing for resolution, and the moon cast its soothing light on a soul wrestling with the complexities of loyalty and self-discovery.

In the silence of the abandoned cottage, you found solace amid turmoil, grappling with the echoes of the past and the uncertainty of the future. The island, though a temporary refuge, became a silent witness to the profound journey of introspection that unfolded within the confines of the forgotten dwelling.

-----------------------

The Heart Pirates sailed away from the island, leaving behind the echo of a fractured camaraderie. Onboard, the crew moved about with a palpable heaviness in the air. Bepo, his usually cheerful demeanor replaced by a somber expression, gathered the crew for a discussion in the dimly lit common area.

Penguin and Shachi exchanged glances; their concern mirrored in the eyes of the crew members who had become a tight-knit family. Bepo, as the first mate, cleared his throat, his voice carrying a weight that reflected the gravity of the situation.

"Why does it have to end this way? we really can't just let them go," Bepo stated, his voice a mixture of determination and worry. "They're family."

Law, leaning against the wall with crossed arms, glanced at Bepo with a stoic expression. "We can't afford to let personal feelings interfere with the mission."

Bepo, torn between loyalty to the crew and understanding Law's perspective, finally asked the question that lingered in the air. "Are we continuing without them, Captain?"

Law, his jaw clenched, nodded. "Yes, but we'll need to adjust the plan. We can't let emotions compromise our objective."

With a heavy heart, the crew dispersed, each member grappling with the aftermath of the departure. As Law walked away, his façade of strength began to waver. The weight of the decision, the rift in the crew, burdened his shoulders more than he let on.

He entered his quarters, the dim light revealing the weariness etched on his face. Before going to his desk, Law found himself drawn to the closed door of your room. A moment of hesitation passed before he entered, the air within laden with memories of shared laughter and camaraderie.

The room was a silent testament to the bond that had been fractured. Law sat on the side of the bed, his gloved hands clenching the fabric. In the stillness, he found himself in deep contemplation, the sting of regret piercing through his strong façade.

"I hope you find what you're looking for," Law whispered to the empty room, the words carrying a weight of unspoken emotions. The room, once filled with your presence, now felt hauntingly empty. As Law sat there, surrounded by the echoes of the past, the ship sailed on, carrying the Heart Pirates forward into an uncertain future.

To be continued...

[utilitycaster]

Dimension 20's Failed Genre Experiments

(This is the "Has Dimension 20 lost its touch?" post I’ve alluded to; please enjoy some genuine criticism masquerading as a riff on those sorts of articles for other shows.)

Dimension 20's debut and flagship burst onto the scene with a simple and elegant premise. What if a John Hughes movie were set at a high school for D&D adventurers? Its next full length pre-recorded season was the similarly strong urban fantasy The Unsleeping City, which in turn was followed up by the channel’s most ambitious outing yet: the Game of Thrones in Candyland mash-up, A Crown of Candy. 

Widely considered to be a watershed moment for the show, A Crown of Candy explored darker themes on a famously comedic platform, was the first on the channel to have permanent player character deaths, added new mechanics and limited what the players could choose to fit the world to support this more serious tone, and on a structural level, was a welcome departure from the prior rigid alternation between episodes of combat and episodes without. It was filmed prior to the pandemic but went to air in early April 2020, when many livestreamed actual play shows were on pause and even some podcasts were scrambling to figure out remote recording. D20 introduced their talkback show as a way for the cast to hang out remotely and chat about each episode, and Adventuring Party has remained a companion to the main show. The channel had hit its stride.

Its House of the Dragon sidequest, The Ravening War, aired three years later. Despite a complicated reaction to its announcement, it was a well-received outing, but one on what had by that time become a noticeably bumpy road.

Sidequests like The Ravening War are what D20 calls its shorter, 4-10 episode seasons that do not feature the main “Intrepid Heroes” cast in full nor necessarily feature Brennan Lee Mulligan as DM. We've seen everything from the perspective of the villains in both a Lord of the Rings clone (Escape from the Bloodkeep) and a Dracula homage (Coffin Run); to a Regency romance in the Feywild (A Court of Fey and Flowers). In addition to Mercer, Jasmine Bhullar and Gabe Hicks have each run a sidequest, and Aabria Iyengar has run three. And while the Intrepid Heroes' only venture outside D&D so far is the D&D-inspired Star Wars 5e, sidequests have been run in various Kids on Bikes hacks and Hicks' own Mythic system, as their shorter format makes it even easier to experiment with the parodies, pastiches, and mash-ups the channel is known for.

There have however been two notable failed experiments, and their close proximity (both released within the past year) could be a hiccup, or could be a sign that D20’s ambition, while admirable, could use some serious reining in. They are Neverafter and Burrow's End.

Marketed as the horror season, crossed over with fairy tales, Neverafter started out strong. Only three episodes in, there was an unprecedented (for D20) total party kill. The subsequent episode is the zenith of the season, in which each character is brought back, most of them changed and twisted by the experience, playing out an analysis of their role as an archetype within these stories: Sleeping Beauty and the classic roles of The Princess (introducing such NPCs as Cinderella and Snow White), for example; or Puss in Boots as The Trickster.

Unfortunately, the quality dropped soon after. It was revealed that the darkness spreading across the fairytale multiverse was due to the influence of The Authors, and the story began to be one about the concept of stories...while still trying to incorporate not only the plotlines of the fairy tales the main PCs were from, but also an intertwined conflict between the fairies and the princess NPCs. With this, the horror, with a few exceptions, melted away: violence and monsters are standard D&D fare, and when heroes race to save the world and victory seems not only possible but likely, any distinction between horror and a typical D&D heroic fantasy is lost.

It’s not the first overstuffed campaign, but it certainly is the first one that fails to land on several levels. Starstruck Odyssey is similarly chaotic and rushed at times, but it consistently sticks to a broad message of personal autonomy and freedom within late-stage capitalism. Mulligan is famous for his capacity to spin endless dense lore off the cuff, and if it at times overcomplicates the plot of the packed and colorful comedic space adventure, at least it contributes to the baked-in excess of the setting. But Neverafter's postmodern flourishes against a horror backdrop desperately needed an injection of sparseness and silence it never received. 

This is enhanced by the nature of actual play: with a few exceptions, even when filmed and even with the elaborate production values of Dimension 20, it is first and foremost primarily an auditory medium. We only know what is narrated to us. Neverafter did not permit its audience the time and space to fear the unknown. The existential horror of the metanarrative, of being a character doomed to a specific ending, while touched on by some of the cast (particularly Siobhan Thompson’s Sleeping Beauty), took a backseat to models of giant spiders and tales of undead dwarves. The story lacked the room to build real tension, but also failed to adequately create the claustrophobia of being truly trapped within its narrative. It feels more stuffy than unsettling.

Burrow's End is far less airless, but profoundly disjointed. Neverafter thought it knew what it was, but Burrow's End went through multiple identity crises by the halfway mark, and the marketing for the series reflects this.

The initial trailer makes it seem like a cute if dramatic story about a family of stoats - think Redwall, think Wind in the Willows. The first episode was excellent, however, and sold many who had been unimpressed by the trailers on the series, with its well-played setup of the clear Watership Down/Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH parallels with a unique twist in the form of The Blue.

The promotion took a strange turn, however, with the second episode and its infamous bear carcass battle map. It was hyped as uniquely horrifying, with a teaser video posted of the cast shrieking as the map, unseen by the audience, was wheeled past them. This seemed rather cavalier of the channel once the episode was posted, accompanied by a gore content warning covering a period of well over an hour...which was then further undercut by an exquisitely crafted, but ultimately rather tame display of a bear's innards. It was left out on the table during Adventuring Party as well, further reducing the idea of any meaningful shock factor (or any attempt to accommodate those in the audience who were triggered). The combat this map was for was a creative one, and the episode itself high quality, but it furthered the sense that Dimension 20 itself was unsure of what they were trying to get people to watch.

The series continued on with two more excellent episodes as it reached Last Bast, a clearly man-made structure full of thousands of stoats, with a strong dash of the police state. The actors immediately clocking the flaws of this society, but their stoat characters having no similar sense, led to a fascinating tension. However, the Blue (called the Light in Last Blast), previously described as some animating force and driver of magical power, and mysteriously concentrated in the brain of the dead-but-animated bear, was then revealed to be ionizing radiation.

At this point, the details of my own life become relevant. My career is in the field of health physics. I hold a master’s degree in this specialty and have served as a radiation safety officer, though not at a reactor. I don’t think that this background is a requirement to understand the structural issues of this season; but it certainly made me particularly attuned to the flaws.

Before you claim that this is just a show and who cares: In addition to my love of actual play, I am also a fan of comics and all sorts of speculative fiction. I am well aware that Spider-Man’s “radioactive blood” would not realistically grant him spider powers; I know that going into a high radiation field would not create Doctor Manhattan; I know that Superman does not actually have ‘x-ray vision’, and I know that radiation creates neither kaiju nor rad roaches. This is fine. In comics, radiation is a shorthand for “mad science” or “mysterious powers” with a sense of the lethal and the eldritch and the hubristic. The story is not so much about the source of these powers, but rather the great responsibilities they require. Godzilla, meanwhile, is clearly a metaphor for the very real nuclear devastation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and Fallout is an anti-proliferation and anti-war message with nuclear annihilation as the set up for its post-apocalyptic setting. These works understand that radiation is a limited-use plot device, and, wisely, they keep it simple.

Burrow’s End, by placing radiation front and center, has lost the message. The themes of the story are irretrievably muddled: what seems like a tale of family displaced by human intervention now positions a man-made hazardous material as both sinister corruption and divine boon, and engages neither with a fitting narrative of both the pros and cons of technology, nor of human and animal symbiosis. The finale establishes the latter in a rushed cut scene reliant on a single persuasion roll, and the two episodes prior to that meanwhile establish that while the humans first introduced radiation to the ecosystem, the first five stoats were the ones who sought it out and disseminated it and built the police state, and their true nemesis was Phoebe, one of their own. This culminates with Phoebe, the previously unseen fifth of the first five stoats (who have by now already been killed by the heroes), piloting the body of a 20-years-dead human, threatening to somehow cause global radiation contamination as her grand Evil Scheme. Unnecessarily, from a narrative perspective, I might add; this occurs after the final combat has already begun and she is magically controlling two of the party members. They’re already going to kill her. It’s a hat on a hat on a hat, and the humans are incidental.

When I was a child, I was enamored with the sort of stories in which children are sent to another time or place and then return with seemingly no time passing, and at one point excitedly told my mother I had an idea for a story, of what happens back while you’re time traveling. My mother, a fan of speculative fiction herself, and never one to coddle, told me “nothing, honey, that’s the point.” I wonder if something similar happened here; an attempted deconstruction of those radiation-granted superpower tropes, focused so hard on being clever it overshot into something anything but. Other elements of the story - particularly the weak pun of “copper” to hammer home the already obvious theme of population support being the arm of the police - make me think this was indeed an attempt at cleverness that missed the mark.

I am happy to elaborate on the flaws of the science elsewhere but I think the most succinct way to put it is that while the biology and habits of stoats sans radiation has been considered with what seems to be at least a modicum of love and care (their use of pre-existing burrows, Viola’s pregnancy), the radiation science/understanding of recent nuclear history can only be described as abysmally neglectful, in and out of game. They let a Loss of Coolant Accident go on for three days with a remarkably casual attitude? This disaster was sufficient to result in what appears to be an exclusion zone (of which there have been three, ever, in human history; two of which are the immediately recognizable Chernobyl and Fukushima) and yet it isn’t being monitored closely enough for someone to notice that there’s been penned animals next to the building for years (let alone that the building itself is teeming with stoats)? For that matter, they’re opening the site only twenty years later? After the “radiation dust”, apparently present on the fully maintained roads by the reactor, but neither within nor in front of the reactor, just now made 14 people bleed out (not how Acute Radiation Syndrome works; also 14 deaths from ARS in 1982, when the series is set would in fact be an unprecedented disaster. In our world, Chernobyl - which had not yet happened in 1982 -  is the only nuclear accident that exceeds that ARS death toll.)

Radiation becomes an all-purpose plot engine with no internal consistent logic: it kills humans swiftly and brutally (though based on statements by Dr. Tara Steel and the fact that she seems fine in only a hazmat suit - which shields from contamination but will stop neither gamma nor neutron radiation - only via inhalation). But it infects chipmunks and bears with corruptive and bizarre neurological effects, turns wolves into horrifying but loyal hybridized monstrosities, and conveys to stoats not just human intelligence, but mastery of human language, magic spells, and the ability to come back as a revenant through force of will…though it also can immediately kill them, but also extend their lifespans, but also cause them to slowly mutate into wolves (but not through DNA splicing transfer, that would be silly). It kills 14 humans nearly instantly with off-site dust, but another survives a fiery attempted core meltdown with no apparent ill effects.

There is an excellent and thoughtful story about family, generational trauma, and political structures somewhere under here, and the incredible cast does its damndest to sell it, but it is all but lost beneath a sci-fi whodunnit that would make Ed Wood cock a skeptical eyebrow.

Neverafter and Burrow’s End’s respective collapses under the weight of ambition coincide, perhaps unintentionally, with some of the more dubious film editing choices on Dimension 20. Filmed actual play can be visually unexciting, and Dimension 20 has used simple shot/reverse shots, as well as some sound effects (notably for critical hits and fails) throughout its run to break it up. Neverafter, however, is marked by deliberate hisses and glitches, fractured split screens, echoey vocal effects, and nails-on-chalkboard screeches. This did not add to the atmosphere as intended; at best they were irritating and for many made it actively harder to hear key dialogue. Burrow’s End’s editing has been simpler, mostly relying on some, to be fair, well-placed cuts to black and voice distortion to indicate taped or radioed segments; but a key moment - Jaysohn’s potentially fatal rush into radioactive waters - is undercut with a frankly cheesy montage. Others I spoke to compared it to Indian soap operas, 1960s Doctor Who, The Oscars In Memoriam video, and reality show farewell reels. It takes what could be a tense potential character death - something D20 already handles wonderfully with their iconic Box of Doom - and makes it cheap and tacky, particularly jarring given the beautiful and haunting shadow puppet animation the season had previously delivered to convey the stoat creation myths. (And then, when Ava falls into the waters herself saving him, she merely comes back as a revenant with no ill effects. The stakes were never there to begin with in this smoke and mirrors season.)

Praise for Dimension 20 often hinges on its original innovative structure; most actual play shows skew towards more longform storytelling. However, the short format comes with a price. The fixed length of D20 seasons and the elaborate, custom made maps require a deft GM that can guide players to the exact right place without it seeming forced. Threading the needle is harder than it looks; even the otherwise iconic Fantasy High debut season stumbled towards the end when the players were too good at uncovering the mystery, and Mulligan had to place their characters in an inescapable prison in order to pad out a pre-scheduled episode before the finale. Perhaps the strain of this constant need to live up to a reputation as high-concept innovators, rather than simply create something good and cohesive, is beginning to show. The higher production values in Neverafter and Burrow’s End cannot hide their messy plots and confused messages, and indeed only highlight them. One interview said that for Burrow’s End, Iyengar wants the audience to trust her; after Burrow's End, I can’t say I do.

The next Dimension 20 season after Burrow’s End is a long-awaited return home to the flagship: Fantasy High Junior Year. Let’s hope this reminds the channel where they came from, and what magic they are capable of making when they keep it simple.

[guilty-shot]

...

This is gonna hurt SO good...

...

He walked forwards, grabbing that corrupt die again. Him and Asuka finally hatched a way to advance the plan, even if it involved unreliable bait.

The fact that it was likely to attract things other than whatever was threatening the world was a real concern, but that's all they could have done.

The target was a AuTank of The Union, and… right as Raven was spotted by the flying drones following it… he dashed forth, before kicking the kiloton behemoth up into the air.

He jumped forth at the unwillingly airborn vehicle, clutched the dice in his hand, and struck the machine.

Right as it connected, the corruption spread all over the metal, and up Raven's hand… But he couldn't help but laugh it out.

The random absurd velocities applying to each piece of meat, the organs and bones rearranging… It was hell… The agony lasted for half a second before he was suddenly teleported away.

...

He was back to Asuka and Elphelt with the still glitching dice, the bizarre anomaly bait was out, The Union had a distraction, and more.

Though, two of the three were definitely not getting any fun, positive emotions from, mmm, how do I describe this lightly, the half meter hole Raven had for a hand.

You did step 3 at 8.44 seconds after the initial transfer, just as calculated, yes?

I hit it at 7.89-

of course you did…

Are you okay!?!?!?

[wastelandwhisperer]

Zenith Hair

Yeah this is named after the new Ghost release. This is my first time ever trying hair color accessories weeee. The bangs are from @evoxyr 's Astrid hair (thank you for the TOU!).

bgc

hat chops

bang recolor in toenail (uv mapped to hair so shouldn't conflict w/much)

24 EA colors, 40 puppycrow colors by @simandy and 16 EOS iridescent colors by @oydis !!

bangs have all of the 80 swatches together

enabled for both frames, enabled for occults (inc aliens!!)

13k polys, all LODs

Download: Patreon // DB (always free)

Thank you @alwaysfreecc @public-ccfinds @mmoutfitters @maxismatchccworld @freeexclusives4thesims @coffee-cc-finds @sssvitlanz

Other cc shown by:

Eyes: @pralinesims

Lashes: @obscurus-sims

Jewelry: Praline, @wisteriasimss4 @maximoons

Makeup: @cosimetic

Thank you @softietrait @valcore024 and @void-imp for testing I appreciate it so much!!!!! 💕

[asksythe]

MXTX Interview with Risa Wataya for Subaru Magazine P.5

Character's Allure

Risa: Among the cast, my favorites are the Nie brothers. Nie Huaissang and Nie Mingjue. As I read, I constantly prayed that Nie Shi (House Nie) would not fall. 

Mo Xiang: Shocking! I have yet to see this kind of attitude toward the Nie brothers. In the place of Nie brothers, I deeply thank Risa! Nie Mingjue was created as a foil and reversed mirror image of the 'extremely socially adept' Jin Guangyao. Nie Mingjue is someone who would rather break but never bend. Jin Guangyao is someone who would rather bend but never break. One embodies unbendable justice. One is a cunning smooth operator. I thought about these two contrasting and contradicting kinds of characters and then created them (Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao). A cunning faker (*) like Jin Guangyao, once he meets a 'violent god' (**) Nie Mingjue would become absolutely powerless and can only flee. Their situation would be quite interesting should I continue to write it. Although for them, it definitely would not be a fun time. 

(*: 狡猾 jiaohua: someone who is pretty/righteous on the outside but rotten inside, a faker, a pretty snake masquerading as a saint) 

(**: 凶神恶煞 xioengshen esha: a powerful, brutal, violent god that is consumed by the slaying of evil so much he starts to do evil himself. Someone who should be good but is consumed by rage and violence and becomes no better than the evil he seeks to destroy)

Risa: Nie Huaissang is extremely smart. Nie Mingjue still acts even though his body has been split into multiple pieces. I absolutely love these brothers' opposing approaches to life. 

Moxiang: The more the character personalities contrast with each other, the clearer their conflict and transformation is portrayed. It also makes the story even more compelling and exciting. Nie Huaissang was built on the foundation of Nie Mingjue as a character. They both use sabers as their weapons. Nie Mingjue is more or less straightforward inside and out. Nie Huaissang, on the other hand, looks weak and cowardly on the outside but is actually immensely insightful, patient, and crafty on the inside. The characters of Qinghe Nie Shi were actually complete quite early into the writing. 

Risa: The characters of "Mo Dao Zu Shi" mature into different kinds of people depending on their relationship with their parents. In terms of lineage and family ties, what were your thoughts while writing? 

Moxiang: I think the environment a person grows up in is a very important factor. The parent generation's joy and sorrow will create an increasingly greater impact on their children. Furthermore, children will inherit specific things from their parents. Only when you look at the profound yet incidental similarities between parents and children, you will see that family ties are something very real. 

Risa: Some characters in the book had a very difficult childhood. Jin Guangyao, Xue Yang, and Wei Wuxian. One type of character experiences misfortune in their childhood and then grow to become bad people. One character, on the other hand, steadfastly holds onto his good heart no matter what. Both types exist in the same book. 

Moxiang: To be honest, the character's childhood was the last thing I considered. My creative method starts with imagining the zenith of a character's life when they are shining brightly at the summit. Then I think about narrative developments leading to and from that moment, and then the character's childhood as the finishing touch. After that, I fill out details on their parent generation. The parents mostly act as supporting characters. Their designs are based on the main cast, to contrast or to complete. 

For example, first, I think of what kind of person Wei Wuxian is. Then, I think of what kind of parents could have such a child. I base his parent's characters on his character. 

Looking at it from within the story, it's that parents will inevitably influence their children. But from a structural writing standpoint, it's the children that influence the parents.        

To be continued (We are about... half-way through the interview transcript)

Translator: Sythe / NPD Khanh

[nc-vb]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐬, 𝐨𝟏. 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐳𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐜

Time is not prejudiced. It gives and takes as the ordinance of life sees fit. Time begets loss and fear, but it also spawns warmth. After centuries worth of time having passed for you, you learn that time also sires impatience, and does not wait for a lost soul to find their way. Time carries on, and flows likes the current of a river. Ironically, so, too, does blood.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 • jing yuan x reader, blade x reader, dan heng & reader

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 • sfw (series mdni), fem pronouns used, yanqing calls you "master" (as per your current position), only slightly beta'ed. • yanqing-centric!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 • this is chapter one of the zenith unto animus series! if you haven't read the prologue and wish to as a series, please follow the "prologue" link below. • if you'd like to join the taglist for this series, please comment on any of the tzua chapters or the series' masterlist.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 • jing yuan

𝐰𝐜 3.3k

zebec -> a small three-masted sailing ship.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬' 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮����

For as long as the lieutenant has known you, and for as long as he’d been allowed to enter freely into your home, the instrument sitting atop the cabinet in your otherwise empty den has never been moved. It’s never been touched, for that matter, its former glorious jade gleam shafted by years upon years of dust. Everything else in your home had been pristine, shined and polished and free from the image of time— the meticulousness of a records master, he’d often assumed.

Unbeknownst to you, and he’d supposed you’d be upset with him if you knew, but Yanqing entered the den often, even against your advisement.

Whenever he’d open the door, taking care not to push it past the point where it would squeak and alert you, he was greeted with a great plume of dust, and blinded by faded sunlight that poked through uncovered, unwashed windowpanes. Funnily enough, if he tried peering into the room from the outside, he’d find that the glass there had been buffed clean. But the fact that that single piece of furniture and the guzheng centered in the middle of it were the only objects in the room left him… confused.

It’d been as if you’d purposely left it suspended in time. It hadn’t been neglect or laziness at all; you took perfectly good care of the rest of your home, and so this was not something Yanqing dared nor bothered to question, even though there were so many things he wished to question.

Why was I asked not to enter it? Why are there only two items in the room? Why is everything else clean but the den looks like it’s never been touched? Why does she always look at it so sadly? Why doesn’t she enter it?

The temptation to wake you up earlier to ask you these questions, just for his own selfish curiosity, is strong. Maybe you wouldn’t think of it as selfish, but Yanqing reminds himself he’s old enough to understand right from wrong — he understands it, but, as he has proven by entering the room in the first place, doesn’t always abide by its unspoken law. Each time he comes to meet you here, the curiosity eats and gnaws at him until you’re both out the door and away from the source of his curiosity.

Today, the creature sinks its teeth in him particularly deeply.

According to the clock on the wall next to the entrance to the den, it’s fifteen minutes to eight in the morning— fifteen minutes until you awaken.

It isn’t always like this that the lieutenant could be found waiting for you. In the beginning, it was by General Jing Yuan’s request that if he weren’t already preoccupied with another, more pressing task, he might accompany you to the Seat of Divine Foresight in his stead. Before the Stellaron disturbance, and numerous conflicts with Sanctus Medicus supporters, he’d been able to leave with you most days, arm in arm— instead, through use of a hologram device borrowed from his office, Jing Yuan is only able to greet you when you arrive at the office, and when you return home, and then some.

The lieutenant knew you, knew of you, from his general superior. Because he preferred being in the field and out of the office, often accepting tasks that weren’t given to him so he could keep from going stir crazy (and you’d wondered why this was such a constant with him — is it a subconscious need to please the general? Or is it a child’s whim, to impress the adults in his life and “prove” he’s no longer a child? You only assume it’s an even mixture of both) also kept your interactions with him to a minimum. And because of the demands of your own job, it left you with little time to interact with Jing Yuan’s ward, always buzzing about the Seat of Divine Foresight and across the Exalting Sanctum. Opportunities to even watch his and Yanqing’s chess matches or training sessions were scarce.

In each of them, you tried hard to connect with Yanqing, interacted with him like an adult and a young man might without the air of belittlement. Over the years, he had matured fairly quickly— you’d never deny this if anyone asked. For long-life species on the Xianzhou, this was typically the case, anyway, since the aging process is much different than that of a short-life species’. Unfortunately, or perhaps not, Yanqing found himself at that age where a young man’s obsession for one thing sometimes made it difficult for others to connect with him.

Others. Not you.

The boy had only ever known you in your current capacity— the Xianzhou Luofu’s Master of Record. You worked directly under General Jing Yuan, keeping the Luofu organized in every possible definition of the word. Small incidents, incidents that some days took up so much of your time and energy that you wouldn’t leave the Seat of Divine Foresight for days on end, returning home only to shower and change, incidents that you took charge on because your juniors needed your support, incidents— all of the going ons, all of the reports, all directives assigned to them, they required your attention and signature. Another unfortunate thing; there’d never been a morning where there wasn’t a stack of papers waiting for you.

Your mornings used to be a little different. When relative peace across the Xianzhou had yet to exist for the cards, you’d been the one to seek it out through battle. A highly decorated captain within the Luofu Cloud Knights, you were one of the sharpest weapons they carried, and you took great pride in it. You’d led many a charge, and even more men. Back then, when your name appeared in conversation, so did the memories of combat, battles won at your side, and the additional question of why didn’t she get promoted to general?

Yanqing adds this question to his ever-growing list. This is the only knowledge he’d had about your past, before you’d become a pencil pusher within the Seat of Divine Foresight. He’s yet to ask the general about you so seriously, though he’s quick to doubt what the general would tell him, anyhow; the general certainly displays quite a bit of anonymity on your behalf, at least to those you likely wouldn’t want to divulge your former self to. Naturally, rumours existed of you and your former profession. And Jing Yuan had always been kind enough to shut down any kind of prodding or nosiness into your business; there’d been a point where you hadn’t even told him everything about you.

But with this, you’d recently realized, would be an excellent segue into bonding with him. What you’d said only the other day about Yanqing being “everyone’s favourite”, about him being your favourite, was a most honest truth. You admired the young man; he made it easy for you to. Not only for his talent in sword arts, but for his perseverance and keen desire to be helpful— it easily reminded you of the days of Jing Yuan’s youth, under the tutelage of his master, and how far he had come since then.

Also. You’d simply desired the chance to pinch the cute from his cheeks.

And sure, it took time away from his morning training, but quickly, the request began to feel much less like a burden (not that he’d dare to think of it like that! A request from the general? Never!). He enjoyed his conversations with you, walking at your side, your stride never faltering, except when Yanqing needed to catch up; too lost in your storytelling, he’d slowed in his pace to digest every moving image that formed between each word. And even though you never divulged too deeply the details of your stories to him, Yanqing could easily tell that over the months and months of spending most of your mornings together that you’d been letting out a little more each time.

Were you trying not to spook him? The young lieutenant tries not to laugh at the idea—she does realize I’m a Cloud Knight, too, right? Of course, you do. You’ve never neglected to show your pride and enthusiasm toward him and his accomplishment. After all, you’d been where he was once upon a time before reaching your Captain status; more than anyone, you understand the frustration of being looked down upon by peers, subordinates, and even disapproving superiors. But you’d proved them wrong, as Yanqing has.

“The youngest ever Cloud Knight lieutenant,” you’d once mused aloud, tone so heavy with fondness and gaze so alight with pride that it’d managed to make the boy blush into his collar.

Yanqing blinks himself out of his stupor, somehow having entered the trance-like state whilst reminiscing on your shared memories. But he’d been doing so in the middle of the forbidden room, eyes stuck on the old instrument— he hadn’t heard the sliding door whine until it was too late.

“Yanqing.”

He’d never flinched so full-bodied before; if it weren’t for his youth, he might’ve thrown his back out.

“M-Master! I-I—!” You raise a hand, eyes not quite meeting his as you enter the room. There in the doorway, you stand, face still disfigured by the deep sleep you’d just woken up from — indents of your blanket pressed deep into your skin, cheeks swollen, and eyes barely able to tolerate the morning sun — you eventually pass him, arriving before the cabinet and standing before it like an alter. “I’m sorry, ______.”

Your hands hover inches above it, fingers shaking, albeit unnoticeably to the young boy behind you. Gaze untrained, it flits from end to end of the instrument, cautious; expecting. Your teeth pinch the inside of your bottom lip as your body floods with relief— no fingerprints. He didn’t touch it. Fast like a whip, you straighten, and Yanqing winces again.

“… Master ______,” he calls to you in testing, hands poised ahead of him to brace himself.

You turn, a tired smile stretched across your face.

“Yanqing. I do believe we’re running late today, aren’t we?” He swallows. “It’s already ten past eight and my alarm clock didn’t wake me up.”

“S-Sorry,” apologizes said alarm clock.

“It’s… fine!” Still smiling, you steer him out of the room, and he notices that when you’d first entered, you hadn’t created any new footsteps until you’d past him, opting to walk through the ones he created. “So, I’m thinking I’ll prepare us breakfast today, rather than eat out, hm? Does that sound alright?”

Yanqing doesn’t remember nodding— you don’t register that he had.

Would… the general know anything about the room? he wonders, stumbling when he lowers himself at the dining table, a four-seated rectangle made of white arbor. You pat him on the shoulder and get to work only ten feet away, pulling various vegetables, a container of eggs, and day-old rice from the refrigerator. Would… the general tell me anything about the room?

As transparent as the general might be to his ward, he thinks not. There are times he can remember, as of recently, that he’d just as easily sugarcoated things for Yanqing’s ears— ironically, the topic of the conversations generally trailed back onto your name. Something you did, something you said, something the Master Records Keeper said. Except Yanqing didn’t get to know what it was that you said. So, no, it’s easy for him to find it unlikely that the general would be so open and honest about you without your permission. He’s… loyal, in that way, he supposes.

Yanqing can’t fault him for it, for being a good superior, and an even better partner, the latter of which being something Yanqing knew and understood little of (though, at least enough to know what it meant to catch the two of you wrestling with your mouths at the end of the Seat of Divine Foresight when you thought no one was watching— you two must’ve been a lot closer than what you’d let on).

The look that’d been on your face when you’d caught Yanqing red-handed in the forbidden room was something unforgettable. Offhandedly, he’d wondered if you’d ever shown that expression to your opponents on the battlefield. He didn’t doubt it. But even for him, the Xianzhou Luofu’s youngest, most accomplished lieutenant, it struck a chord within him, and not one that produced a pleasant sound. It was discordant and tuneless, dark, something that might play upon the arrival of some great enemy, and he were being honest, you strumming it made him feel a little nauseous.

He never wanted to feel that way because of you ever again.

You serve breakfast about fifteen minutes later, a steaming plate of egg-fried rice and vegetables set down before him and accompanied by a glass of citrus-melon juice. For the most part, the two of you eat in silence— well, Yanqing does. You attempt conversation with him, but even when you’re supplied with half-baked, half-assed, or half-hearted answers from the boy, you appear unperturbed. Any other time, Yanqing internally remarks, eyeing you past his raised glass of liquidized fruit, you’d be harassing me to see if I was alright. His brows push together in scrutiny at you when you aren’t looking.

But you don’t say a word about it. Not even when your eyes had risen so quickly to meet his when you’d felt him staring, or when he’d jumped in his chair so suddenly, he’d bashed the tops of his knees against the underneath of the table. You don’t question him, not even for the reason of why he’d been in that room against your explicit wishes. You know he’s wondering why you haven’t said anything, too.

Rather than get upset at him, which had been your first instinct when you discovered the door to your former study halfway open, you’re letting it simmer. Fester. He knows right from wrong— he’s said those words himself before. Because really, it had been a simple request you’d asked of him whenever he was to visit, and it was made once, and only once— “Please don’t enter the first floor study.” Simple. Barely a burden. You know the silence is making him uncomfortable; you learned early into things that he’s a very vocal child, that he’d prefer to either talk things out or duke them out.

So instead, you simply watch him squirm in his seat and rub his barely injured knees, him refusing to make eye contact and staring floating swords into his half-eaten rice. I don’t think I’ll tell Jing Yuan, you eventually decide, and guzzle down the rest of your juice. It wasn’t touched, so there’s no reason to tell him about this; no reason to worry him.

Yanqing pokes at the final vegetable on his plate with his kuàizi before forgoing them, and leaning over to suck it up with his mouth. You snort, having seen it happen from the corner of your eye.

“All finished?” Yanqing nods, rising from his seat to carry his used dishes over to you at the sink.

“I… can wash them,” he mumbles, keeping a tight hold on them when you’d gone to grab them.

“… okay. I’m not complaining.” You gesture for him to take your spot when you move and he does, picking up the dish scrubby to brush away bits of rice and stuck-on-the-plate egg.

“So.” You watch him bristle beside you. “I’m not sure if the general mentioned to you anything about today. That we won’t be going to the Seat of Divine Foresight at all?”

The soaped-up scrubber pops out of his hand, having slipped from his surprise.

“We’re not working today?” he says. “T-Then, what…”

“I’m taking you somewhere with me. Besides, I know how much you love your swords… I think you’ll enjoy this little excursion.”

Yanqing blinks his shock away. You’ve never taken an entire day off for something like this (well, save for your two days spent awol when it’d gotten too hot aboard the Luofu). And if he’s correct in his inference, he wonders, eyes gone wide and cheeks a little warm… Is she planning on getting something for me?

You were. Not that he knew it yet. But it’d been funny watching the gears turning behind his eyes; you suspect he’d been curious to ask if this is really the case. It’s all a part of your plan to win his favour— not a difficult task so far, you’d quickly realized. Like you’d thought, you and Yanqing had a lot in common. It’s why you decided to share so many stories and anecdotes with him all this time, and he followed along with such endearing intent that you began to actually enjoy Jing Yuan’s order of him to accompany you each day he could not. It’d been less of a hassle; it saved you from having to set or forgetting to set your alarm; and, it supplied you with warm nostalgia, being tailed by someone so young, so energetic. It makes you forget how many lifetimes you’ve lived, and how many lives you’d seen lost. His youth proves time still ticks on, and life still founders.

It’s… a relief, after everything.

Certainly, immortality used to be something you feared, not something you revered like most others. Living forever, or at least, living many lifetimes past that of short-life humans, was overrated. Sitting at their bedsides and watching them die in your hands from illness or old age seemed to never hurt any less each time it happened. You thought you’d grow numb after several hundred years of it. You found few things worth existing for in this extended existence of yours, and over the many years gone past, that number has easily dwindled to only a handful.

Yanqing, as young as he is, has taken his longevity with grace. Barely in his double digits (though with how long-life species age, he’d be in his early teen years, anyhow), his maturity and seriousness has shown itself to be deft and in abundance. Rather than flit his youth away on games and merriment (like Jing Yuan once had, many centuries ago), he’d taken to train both his body and his mind after his developed passion for weaponry and battle (as you once did, a handful of centuries earlier than even he).

The flow of time changes in every decade, you remind yourself, staring at your reflection in your bathroom’s mirror. Even being all refreshed from the shower and under eyes covered with a thin layer of concealer, you still manage to come out looking gaunt. Yet you’re still clinging to the past. You’re going to be left behind again.

Suited and dressed, you walk down your stairs to find Yanqing slipping his own shoes back on.

“Finally ready, Master?” he asks, grinning a little knowingly, as if he’s already figured out your plan to spoil him today.

Aren’t you embarrassed? a new voice asks. You freeze, hand squeezing the banister just a little too tightly; you feel the metal bend beneath it, a new indent forming around your fingers.

Aren’t you tired of making that man wait for you?

“Yeah,” you say, landing on the first floor with both feet. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Aren’t you tired of making that man worry for you?

Yanqing, ever the chivalrous young knight, holds open your door for you to exit after you’d put your own shoes on. Of course, he’d also wanted to look to see where exactly that cracking noise had come from, and easily zeroes in on the wrinkled banister you’d finally stopped hiding when you moved.

He swallows, then shuts the door.

© nc-vb 2023 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 (5/55)

@trailblazernet @yanqingisim@sadflightlessbirds @copjaeminissiperior @thevoidwriting @osiritheous

[symphonybracket]

YouTube links: Mahler 2, Tchaikovsky 6

Comments:

Mahler 2

Have you ever wanted to feel like you're going to shake apart into a billion pieces if someone so much as looks at you. That's how I feel after listening to this beast. This symphony changed my life for real. It's famous for it's ending and for good reason!! It truly feels like your soul is getting blown up and steamrolled. Listening to it live was like getting peeled by god. It calls for 10 horns which is how you know it's going to fuck severely. It comes in 5 movements: good lord oh my god, hehe teehee, oh so that's why they call it the death shriek, crying on the floor for 5 minutes, and I Have Died. The part known as the "Death Shriek" is shown below! And if you're interested in learning more about the symphony, here's my favorite analysis website!

It's an everything in the universe piece and when I sang in the choir for it I think I actually ascended to a higher plane of existence for 15 minutes

I came across (imo) a good video giving a summarised background of Mahler 2, it’s called ‘Gustav Mahler - Symphony No. 2: Explained in 3 Minutes’ by orchestra of the music makers on YouTube

There is also a piano arrangement!

Tchaikovsky 6

Everyone bangs on about the 4th movement but it's the 3rd movement that really hits

tchaik 6 is what i would listen to if i had an hour to live

the 5/4 movement of the tchaik lives rent free in my mind and i think about it every day

It’s beyond gorgeous. The melodies soar, the orchestra swells, and you just need to lie down for a while after listening to it. It’s Romanticism at its zenith. You want to weep and sigh, and it’s impossible to listen to it without literally feeling something.

Symphony No. 6, titled “Pathétique”, was Tchaikovsky’s final symphony. It is an intensely emotional piece, and to many scholars demonstrates the emotional turmoil that characterized much of Tchaikovsky’s life. He died about a week after its premiere, a fact which leads many scholars to debate about whether the content of the piece itself reflects the possibility that he may have committed suicide. The title itself is often translated to mean “impassioned suffering”, although this was most likely a later addition by Modest and not actually part of Tchaikovsky’s vision. Given these facts, many scholars interpret this piece to be about death and suffering. However, this piece can also be seen to represent life and all its contrasting moments. This interpretation is more holistic and inclusive of all of the moments captured in this piece, and also serves to break down the common narrative of Tchaikovsky as a tragic figure.

More comments about Tchaikovsky 6 below the cut (length warning):

Scholarship surrounding Tchaikovsky’s music tends to focus heavily on the ways his confliction over his homoerotic desires appears in his writing. However, his personal letters reveal a much more balanced understanding of himself that goes beyond the common narrative. In one letter written to Modest describing a new relationship with another man, he writes: “I awoke today with a feeling of unknown happiness and with a complete absence of that emotional sobriety that used to make me repent in the morning for having gone too far the day before.” Many of the letters he wrote regarding his relationships demonstrate no shame and no anguish beyond what can be expected of a man living in a homophobic society. It is important to take this information into account when listening to a piece such as this one that has been discussed so frequently, and to understand it beyond the turmoil and strife that it is seen to represent. Like many of Tchaikovsky’s works, this symphony displays a range of human emotions. It is not only representative of tragedy and “impassioned suffering”; it is a depiction of what it is like to live. It is also interesting to note that this piece is used as a signifier of queer desire in the novel "Maurice" by E.M. Forster, a novel also notable for its radical portrayal of a queer man who gets a happy ending. Much to think about there.

The first movement begins with a lone bassoon soloist playing a plaintive minor melody, which later comes back in the strings. As the movement progresses, it grows in intensity and texture. More instruments are added, and the music becomes more frantic, building and building towards the dramatic trumpet fanfare. Throughout this piece, Tchaikovsky continues to make significant use of contrasting dynamics and melodies, reflecting the emotions he hopes to convey through the music. Dramatic, tumultuous sections are interspersed with pastoral woodwind melodies, and the angry brass fanfares give way to a quiet ending.

The second movement is reminiscent of a waltz, and uses the strings and woodwinds more than the brass to achieve its floating melodies. The dynamics ebb and flow to build tension, but this movement never reaches the same levels of anguish that the previous movement does. Tchaikovsky makes use of pizzicato in the strings to convey a lighter, more cheerful mood, and features the upper woodwinds prominently. He also repeats themes frequently, giving the audience something familiar to listen out for as the movement progresses.

The third movement begins with frantic energy in the strings and woodwinds. As more instruments join the rush of music, the underlying eight note accompaniment does not let up, continuing the vivacious beginning through the whole movement. Instruments pass the melodies between each other and engage in conversations across the orchestra. Like the first movement, the brass play a prominent role in creating dramatic climaxes in the music, as well as supporting the march-like conclusion. Conductor Myung-Whun Chung describes the deceptively dramatic ending as, “one of the greatest, most thrilling, but most empty of victories in musical history,” observing that this movement has the energetic finality of a final movement. The reversal of having the true finale be a slower movement represents a shift away from the “Beethovian model of light over darkness” common in most other symphonies of this time period.

As mentioned before, ending on a movement with a slow tempo was a significant shift away from the standard of the time. This innovation inspired many other future composers to use the same technique, most notably Mahler in his Ninth Symphony. The quiet beginning builds up towards a chaotic rush of fast runs throughout the orchestra, only to stop abruptly and continue in halting, cautious bursts of melody. The movement continues with this cycle of rushing up to a climax and backing away as the movement progresses. Tchaikovsky highlights the horns in this movement, giving them both angry, blaring notes which cut through the string melodies and the flowing, lyrical lines that are passed throughout the orchestra. As the piece ends, the instruments fall away until all that is left are steady repeated notes in the basses, bringing this lament of a movement to an understated close.

[yermes]

How to deal with the lil bullies at work 🤏🏻 (or anywhere)

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Pick a meme

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Disclaimer: please take what I say with a grain of salt and not as the gospel. I just want to share some ideas of practicing and giving advice using the medium as often as I can with school, work, and my own personal studies and practice. But I am working on sharing my notes soon so that will be exciting! Liking and sharing does a lot 🥰

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The cards

9 of cups

The best thing to do about the nit pickers who will never leave their current role is to be happy. Be happy you do things to move yourself forward, be happy you have fans that obsess over every little thing you could possibly do. Be thrilled you are not sad and shallow enough to be hung up on the small actions of everyone else. The best thing you can do while in this situation is to thrive and flourish despite it all.

7 of wands

You are already winning because you will not stay here forever. And even if you did? They are not as well liked and they think they are and the people love you much more. Their own downfall is their bitterness and resentment. They drag themselves down so when the conflict finally reaches its zenith, it will be okay and it will work out for you.

9 of wands

Uhm yeah so this situation is causing an absolute fucking disaster. This is not your fault this is managements fault to let such a toxic work place fester. Everything is a mess and shitty co workers make it that much worst, when the disaster is a constant spiral and everything sucks absolute fucking ass you may consider leaving if they don’t get fired or quit themselves soon.

Extras:

Story/vent:

Godddd I can’t wait for my vacation