#consider: they forge your muse weapons

[wolfkcst]

Eivor… low key blacksmith thanks to Gunnar’s teachings… 🥹

[idlebirdsparagon]

Musings On Sacrifice And Happiness Regarding Ram & Bheem

@hag-lad this snowballed a bit and took me a few days, but I was not making empty promises in the tags; it is done.

All right folks. This little analysis was inspired by this post by @enigma-the-mysterious and is an exploration of Ram and Bheem's attitudes toward their mortality and potential deaths. Neither of these two knuckleheads (affectionate) seem even the least bit apprehensive at the thought of their own deaths and I want to unpack that.

Content warning for talk of death, and disregard for personal safety, as per the movie.

Bheem: "I'll die with pride."

[Note: this section will be a little less of a deep dive into subtext and deeper meaning/conjecture and more a general explanation of the text, mainly because Bheem, barring the necessity of his Akhtar persona, functions narratively as the "what you see is what you get/I said what I meant" type. But it's fun to talk about him, and I'm making a culminating point at the end of this so I need this here for the sake of ✨️balance✨️]

Given his role as the protector for the Gond people, I would argue that it's reasonable to assume Bheem is, at any given point, ready to sacrifice himself for those he considers to be under his protection, whether directly a part of his tribe or not, especially based on the description of the protector given by Venkat Avadhani; yes Bheem is often likened to a tiger within the fandom (I do this too), but I think the imagery presented of a man willing to break a tiger's teeth and pry open its jaws to save someone is incredibly visceral and indicative of how far Bheem is willing to go as just one person.

Bheem lives with the knowledge that there's always a high chance that he will die as a natural outcome of his role among his people, as evidenced by how he doesn't promise his return when comforting Ram, saying instead "If we get out safely, I'll come meet you again."

And if he dies for the sake of ensuring that others get to live, that's a net positive for him; his purpose as protector fulfilled.

His entire line to Ram before he leaves to rescue Malli is a verbal acknowledgement of how much love he holds for his friend and an assurance to Ram that he'll have comfort in his final moments should they come to pass; he's not actively seeking to die, and he'll do his best to avoid dying, but he won't deem it an untimely tragedy should it happen. And having forged such a close friendship with Ram, that's another net positive he's been party to, so he can die with pride having done his job and holding the memory of Ram in his heart in his final moments.

Ram: "I will die gladly, Uncle."

I'm not gonna ease into this idea, I'm too eager so I'm just going to lay it out: Alluri Rama Raju does not live for himself and does not pursue his mission with his wellbeing in mind. Ram operates under the notion of being an instrument of the revolution and, even in times of his most heinous acts, regards himself as such rather than as a person. This is ultimately a topic for another dissection, but to tie it into the point of this post: when a tool breaks, do you weep? Does the tool?

I'm not going to wax poetic about material loss versus emotional loss; there is a nuance there that begs for a much longer word count. However, I will underline the point I'm making about Ram and how he regards his life.

Ram is given the mantle of being the weapon of the revolution at a very young age and we are told that he has worked for 15 years toward his (and his father's) goal; if you subscribe to the ideology that your life is that of a tool meant to achieve a goal, rather than as evidence of a living being, how will that change how you regard that life? Is it something precious outside of the mission?

Ram has a severe reckless disregard for his personal safety; jumping into a throng of protesters with nothing but a lathi as his weapon/protection being the biggest example of this.

(look at him go. wild. i'm armchair diagnosing him as clinically unwell.)

Ram is well aware of his prowess as a weapon and that gives him the confidence and internal permission to take wild risks without a moment's hesitation; he also knows that, ultimately, a weapon, if broken beyond repair, is replaceable; while he isn't looking to break himself, he certainly isn't being precious with his existence either.

And I would posit that he functions on a day to day basis under the need to accomplish his mission, get the weapons for his people and expel the British; beyond that? I wouldn't put money on Ram having planned for the future, or even having thought of making it to whatever future might be there for him. Though this idea is more of a headcanon than anything else; feel free to agree with or dismiss it as you like.

Then comes his ideological shift in the face of Bheem's rousing defiance of the Empire, and Ram's participation in it, in front of the people of Delhi at the whipping post.

Ram is forced to reckon with the fact that in his bid to be the weapon that brings about the downfall of the British Empire, he has effectively put that weapon into the hands of the enemy and allowed it to be wielded against the people he has been trying to liberate, and he knows this. The thought has been building for some time, as evidenced by his letter to Sita, but being ordered to flog Bheem expedited the process of cementing it as truth, with the final acknowledgement of that truth happening during Komuram Bheemudo.

But what to do with that realization?

What do you do when your purpose is thrown at your feet and you're forced to look at the culmination of your life's efforts as something that has been horribly corrupted and been rendered ultimately impotent? Let's me be specific with this rhetorical bit: What is Ram meant to do when looking at his guilt made manifest in the wounds littering Bheem's body, put there by his hand? Guilt that has been looming over his actions since his final shot in his village at his father's back?

(do you ever think about the fact that they show us the moment Ram stopped genuinely smiling until the day he met Bheem?...i do)

After the flogging Ram says Bheem is a volcano; I want to take that metaphor and turn it in my hands a bit to say I'd regard Bheem more as the catalyst for the eruption of people in Delhi, the introduction of magma into the chamber that triggers the previous buildup to come rushing forth; again another analysis for another time. Suffice it to say Bheem's actions and defiance in the face of the British and his torture incite immediate and tangible results in a way that Ram's methods from the inside never have and never would have been able to.

Here's where I'm going to bring it back to the idea of Ram and his happiness to potentially die for Bheem

Ram pins his hopes of a successful revolution onto Bheem. He doesn't seem the type to excuse failure in any capacity in regard to himself, and he has just been made painfully and undeniably aware that what he has been doing for the past 4 years has not been working; time to effectively decommission himself as the weapon. And if he dies, well, such is the way of things, no? Ram is beyond skilled in a great many things, especially combat, but I doubt he's ever regarded himself as invincible, he gets hurt too badly and far too often for that to make sense. Luck eventually runs out. He can do what needs to be done, he has every confidence in that, but he's aware of the possibility that doing so will come at the cost of his life. And with all that he has done up to the point of his about face after Bheem's flogging, he's more than ready to pay that price in his own blood.

Ram's life is not his, at least not by his estimation, and if he can keep Bheem alive, his own life is fine to be forfeit. He can die happy knowing Bheem still lives, with the added bonus of knowing the revolution will continue in his absence. At least in death he will have successfully done something good for his people and country.

To Summarize:

Both men are at peace with the idea of their respective deaths: Ram ultimately because he doesn't see his death as a loss if Bheem is still alive, and Bheem because he doesn't see his death as a tragedy if it means saving the life of another, especially with the knowledge that he can hold his friendship with Ram in his heart as he dies.

Though of course, within the context of the movie, neither of them has to die for the other, and I like to think that after the events of the movie they will gladly keep each other alive and never even think to regard doing so as a burden.

And that's where I'll end this analysis. If you made it this far, or just skipped to the summary, thank you for reading!

[steak-n-popotoes]

FFxivWrite '24 - 5

"You really drew all these yourself, kupo?"

Beef nodded. The top of his head barely peeked above the sketchbook he held up for Kupopo's perusal.

"Well, your landscapes are pretty good, and the flowers are even better - they should make for some powerful pictomancy!" the moogle exclaimed, wings fluttering and pom bouncing. "We could go over elemental pigments... but the basics are boring, kupo. Why don't we see how you fare with some other subjects, instead?"

The two relocated to their local striking dummy in order to practice a few tricks of the pictomancer's trade.

"You know kupo, I only had the one job crystal to give away anyway, so if you think about it, it's actually a bit of a blessing that you were the only adventurer interested in being my student."

Beef's only response was to stare at the moogle in silence.

"I can see you're eager to learn, so let's get started, kupo. How about we try weapons?"

After a few minutes of watching Beef stare at his beginner's palette, Kupopo thought it best to offer some more guidance. "It doesn't have to be perfect, kupo, just come up with something you can pound a few poms with."

The suggestion seemed to help somehow, as Beef snapped his fingers and began to paint, stroke by stroke. Once it had taken shape, he raised the finished piece aloft - a feat that would never have been possible were it truly a weapon forged in iron.

"A hammer, kupo? Kind of silly at that size, don't you think?"

"Dwarven decking."

"I have no idea what that means, kupo." Kupopo shrugged. "But I guess it's true what they say: when you have a kupo nut, all of your tools start to look like hammers, kupo!"

Beef didn't think he had heard that one before.

"How about we switch tactics, kupo? You could really fill any role on the battlefield, if you think about it. A pictomancer is only limited by their imagination, after all! You could draft up a shield, or even cure pain with... paint, kupo!"

Beef's face scrunched up in response. "Messy."

"Look, that's up to you and how you imagine it, kupo."

For a while Beef tried to conceptualize a depiction of healing, but the line that distinguished between these two uses of magic lay somewhere outside of his grasp. To his untrained eye, it was all just magic.

"Well, you passed the job interview, so I'm sure you've got imagination to spare, kupo." said the moogle. "If you can't visualize how casting a healing spell would look, why don't you try sketching a healer that will do it for you?"

Beef looked to Kupopo, then his brush, and then back again. After another dose of erratic encouragement from his moogle mentor, he gave his best attempt at painting L'kozu.

The resulting evocation defied all description.

"THE HAMMER, KUPO! GET THE HAMMER!"

In a panic, Beef hurriedly sketched up another hammer and scrambled to grip its handle.

"STAMP IT OUT QUICK, KUPO!!"

In a whirlwind of color and magic, he rapidly and repeatedly pounded the dissatisfactory piece until it was rendered across the V&C garden as little more than a painterly pulp.

After a few moments for the two to catch their breath, Kupopo fluttered past Gale to speak a little too close into Beef's face. "I changed my mind, kupo. Maybe we should work through the basics after all... then we'll consider building toward a living muse."

[blackhardtt]

gimme answers for both muses, please. 🩷🩷💋

dried paint brush — how creative is your muse? do they create anything with said creativity or are they considered 'wasted potential'? ( Saint vc: Cyrus seem like he jus’ entirely too talented, honestly. is there anything he can't do? )

orange creamsicle — what's a topic your muse could talk about for hours? is there a reason this particular topic means so much to them?

instant messenger — if it's not already taken, what is your muse's go-to username? ( Saint vc: prolly sumn dumb for Rod )

random character headcanons // accepting

dried paint brush: Roderick & Cyrus

Roderick, in his main pirate verse, is incredibly creative. His life on the seas fosters an appreciation for the beauty and unpredictability of nature, which he channels into artistic pursuits. He’s a talented musician, often playing the violin or singing shanties, especially when morale needs lifting or when the ocean demands an offering. Additionally, he is passionate about sketching, frequently drawing maps, sea creatures, or the waves themselves. Despite his pirate nature, he's refined in his artistry, showing that he's not just a brute but someone with an eye for the world’s finer details. His creativity is far from wasted; it’s woven into his life as a pirate, enhancing his journey and the experiences of those around him.

Cyrus, in his King Verse, possesses creativity rooted in tradition and discipline. While he isn't known for painting or music, his creativity shines in crafting strategies, forging weapons, and training his soldiers. He’s skilled in weapon craftsmanship, having honed his abilities in both wielding and creating swords, which are more than just tools of war but extensions of his soul. He might not indulge in the arts as much as Roderick, but his creativity manifests in the beauty and precision of his weaponry, his ability to lead, and the structures he builds for his kingdom’s growth. Though not artistic in the conventional sense, Cyrus's creativity is essential to his role as a king, and it's far from wasted.

orange creamsicle: Roderick & Cyrus

Roderick could talk endlessly about the sea and all its wonders. He’s mesmerized by its vastness, mysteries, and unpredictability, often viewing it as a living, breathing entity with its own moods and desires. The ocean represents freedom to him, a place where he can be himself without the constraints of society or nobility. It’s more than just a home or battleground; it’s a companion that’s been with him through his highs and lows. This deep connection stems from the fact that the sea saved him countless times, becoming his escape from a life he didn’t choose and providing him the freedom he craved. Whether it's discussing legends, its hidden dangers, or the thrill of navigating a storm, he could lose himself in talking about it for hours.

On the other hand, Cyrus could talk endlessly about the concept of loyalty and what it means to him. As a king who’s seen betrayal, unwavering loyalty, and the strength it takes to lead, this topic resonates deeply with him. He values loyalty not only to one’s kingdom or cause but to family, friends, and oneself. Having experienced the pain of betrayal from those closest to him and the immense love from those who stood by him, loyalty is the foundation of everything he builds. It’s a subject that ties into his identity as a king, a warrior, and a man who strives to lead with integrity. Whether discussing loyalty in relationships, duty, or the bonds that make life worth living, Cyrus finds profound meaning in exploring this concept.

instant messenger: Roderick & Cyrus

Roderick would definitely be something humorous xD: SeaSimp69 BootyRaider TidalTroublemaker

For Cyrus, it would be more serious than humorous: VanguardLion Valorborne Crownforge

[winterdeepelegy]

Prompt #12 - Quarry

It had been a long time since his last visit but Glace remembered well the gleaming white walls of Terncliff. What had once been an exclusive resort for Garlean higher-ups was now more of a refuge; a somber place trying to reclaim its former identity as a peaceful town, but a sense of melancholy still hung over it like a shroud. The remnants of a shattered Empire still marred its fair features, both in cold, dark metal, and in personage. Glace was here to meet Gaius for a job, not the first nor likely to be the last. The once "Black Wolf" had sought him out some time ago to help put a stop to Black Rose, and through this endeavor had forged a sort of alliance. This, too, came with the understanding that no matter what became of Garlemald henceforth, or what measures Gaius chose to take, that Glace owed them no further allegiance. None would be imposed, if Gaius was to be believed, and he knew what to expect from Glace if he tried. As it stood, Gaius had enough on his hands. With the end of Valens' Weapon project, he had his only surviving adopted daughter to look after now, and her heart and soul had a long road of healing ahead. Glace hadn't been present for those events, though he heard about them later, and it was something he could empathize with only too well. A specific terrace had been designated as the location for their meeting, and the Elezen went directly there. Gaius and Aly were already waiting. "My apologies, sir," he brushed back the leather hood that had kept his face shaded. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long." "Not at all." Gaius rose from his chair to extend his unbandaged hand to this would-be business partner in a shake of greeting. He still had a vice grip, which Glace firmly returned. "Shall we make this brief?" Nodding once in response to the former Legatus, Glace also greeted Aly with a smile and a small gift box. "Cousin. One of my Sisters made this, we thought you would like it." Aly was as much a cousin to him and the Colossus Project subjects as any survivor of Garlemald's inhumane experiments. As such, he kept a sort of thoughtful affection as one might show for a relative not seen in too long. The gift box contained a polished piece of bone which was carved into the shape of a dolphin and set as a pendant. Quiet though she was, she smiled in appreciation of the new trinket. "Yes," he finally said to Gaius. "You wanted me to track someone down?" Gaius handed over a few pages of information and explained, "Not simply track him down, this person was a loyal subordinate of Valens Van Veros. Even now, with the Empire destroyed, I'd consider him no less dangerous or resourceful. He was last sighted in Ala Ghana and is believed to be headed toward the Sleeping Stones, due east of there." "Odd place to hide out. I would've thought he'd try to pick the wreckage of Specula Imperatoris first," Glace mused. "I suspect this is what he's been doing for a while now, and the Sleeping Stones - as an abandoned quarry - provide a decent place to stash his ill-gotten gains." Slowly, the Elezen nodded his understanding and tucked the papers into his coat, "And do you require any proof of job completion?" "From you? No," Gaius shook his head, "I know enough about you, and seen enough of your work to know that once you've found your prey, there is only one end result. Just be sure to report back once it's done." "I'll be as quick as possible then. And while I'm at it, I'll see if I can suss out any others who might be working with him..."

[gnostichymns]

All of the joys of Summer have waned at last, the mysterious islands and all their festivities disappearing in hardly a heartbeat as though they had been your imagination all along. Or perhaps not, since everyone else seems to remember them just the same. But hey! Your boats are back, in any case. Seems that all good things must come to an end eventually, after all.

Solstice 2024: The End

Congratulations on surviving completing June's month-long beach episode! We hope everyone had a wonderful time, and are eager to hear your opinions as well as see more of the bonds forged in blood sand!

Here is what you need to know to claim your prizes:

For a total of 5 Shiny Flotsam, you will acquire:

One event weapon from the Solstice 2024 category on our event prizes doc. (This must be in line with the weapon your character uses according to GH combat. For HSR/Hi3 muses, you may reference here to discern what your muse is considered as.)

Your choice of either 1 additional Talent Point or 1 Crown.

For muses that have multiple accessible kits, you may claim another.

To claim these, please send an ask to the Masterlist including links to any interactions or participations you are claiming for flotsam. This includes asks and threads pertaining to the event, your Harpastum Toss thread, or at least one of your posts from one of the Requiem 2024 threads. Do not forget to detail your choices in prizes.

The deadline for claims is July 7th at 11:59PM EST.

For Requiem participants, you may also include the your team's prize in your total claim.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask them! And feel free to continue any interactions/answer any asks from the event even after its conclusion.

Thank you all again for such a successful event! Don't forget to check the month's feedback form to let us know how you felt!

[voidtouched-blue]

[ flower hc meme ] anemone, forget - me - not & zinnia

anemone :   how does your muse view the world ;   as a cruel   &   unforgiving place ,   a land full of wonders ,   or something in - between ?  where does that world view come from   (what experiences ,   life lessons ,   etc .   ) ?  

Excellent question!

Cyra sees the world as both a heartless hell and a place to be marveled at. If it weren't for the ingenuity of man, then the land would be far more peaceful than it was. From the moment she was born, she had been treated as though her very existence was a burden. Being brought into the world under a new moon (or an empty one as her tribe refers it as) has rather important social and practical implications in their society. Being born without the light of the moon meant that her role in life was useless. Her only benefit to their clan was to be sold so that the island could prosper. It's the cruelty of man that she resents, and it was only perpetuated when the Garleans spent the entirety of her life performing experiments to forge her into a weapon of their own. There were few things during her imprisonment that kept her from losing herself to the violence committed against her. One of which was the decision that she would not allow herself to be like them. She would use her hands to heal, and not to harm as the Imperials intended. Yet, even then, she still struggles with the vengeful rage built up within her as a way to protect herself. She very much struggles to try to view the world in a brighter light. After all, it's difficult to understand peace and a gentle breeze when she was born into the dark of the world.

forget - me - not :   has your muse ever forgotten something that is or was important to them ?   are they afraid of forgetting things like that ?  

There is a point in her life where she does forget the morals and values that she tries to live by. Lost in her grief after the death of a beloved friend, she ignored all else in favor of a study that would end up being a curse. She forgot the whole reason why she became a white mage in the first place. She lost her sense of belonging and purpose the moment she realized she couldn't protect her friends from death. Having few people in her life that knew about her past made her feel isolated, and without the understanding of having someone she can truly rely on, losing that one person absolutely broke her.

In another point, she is afraid of forgetting herself. She's afraid of losing herself to that wrathful anger at the world for what its done to her. That anger is only amplified by the experiments done on her by the Imperials as they wanted to tap into a rage they could control. But since she escaped before their research and testing was finished, she is an incomplete product with a delicate trigger. She's afraid of losing control and harming others, which she has absolutely done before.

zinnia :   how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ?   has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?

I somewhat answered this in the previous one, but I'll go into more depth.

As incorrect as the lesson is, Cyra has learned that forming bonds with others will only lead to pain. It's really quite dramatic if you look at it this way, but she genuinely believes that creating friendships is a death sentence to those she comes to care for. The only two people in her life (up to the point in the story that most people choose to interact with her at) have disappeared or died. Both of which, she had what she considered a really strong connection with. They were the only two people who knew about her history with Garlemald, and they didn't pity her for the suffering she had already lived through. They encouraged healing, and provided her with that sense of security and confidence in her own abilities. They gave her the strength to push back against the fear that constantly ran through her as her own blood.

Losing them meant losing everything. She didn't care about the peaceful life she now had, or the freedom that was hard fought and earned. She didn't care about how impressive it was for her to learn not one, but three methods of healing to further secure the health and safety of her companions and any who seek her aid. Of course this is only covering the story up to Shadowbringers, and she does eventually learn Sage as well as dabbling in Alchemy only for the purpose of having a method that doesn't entirely require the use of Aether to aid others.

If anything, losing loved ones and comrades has pushed her to self-isolate more. If she can't form connections and friendships with others, then it won't hurt as much when they die or leave as fate decides. Though, this has also lead her to become close with a handful of people on accident. She craves having someone she can tell her fears to. She doesn't want to suffer through her painful memories alone. And on occasion, she's accidentally stepped out of that cold fortress only to realize she's become too close to someone. The process of building that wall back up again in itself is painful, and it leaves her conflicted. This heavy contradiction of wants versus needs in her heart and soul are what drives her actions. She wants to be comforted. She wants to be cared for. Yet, in the same strand she cannot allow it for the sake of her own sanity. The constant tug-of-war with her desires has left her rather frayed. She's more likely to lash out at people or have heavy mood-swings the longer she takes to realize that she's let someone in on her life. And then the comfort of another becomes a sword in the chest, twisted slowly the longer she takes to push them away.

Losing others has taught her that she is too weak to process the loss of that comfort. She learns that it is better to bear the pain alone, to become strong through the weight she stacks on her own shoulders, than to allow another to be crushed by the same gravity that all living things share.

Thank you so much for this! I had a blast writing it all out!

[unboundwanderers]

"I mean, do you call this a war? This funny little thing? This is not a war! I fought in a bigger war than you will ever know. I did worse things than you could ever imagine. And when I close my eyes I hear more screams than anyone could ever be able to count! And do you know what you do with all that pain? Shall I tell you where you put it? You hold it tight till it burns your hand, and you say this: No one else will ever have to live like this. No one else will have to feel this pain. Not on my watch!"

THIS HEADCANON POST COVERS THE ENTIRETY OF THE TIME WAR. Every plot, thread, prompt, and discussion has been carefully notated and constructed into this COMPREHENSIVE TIMELINE POST to help MUTUALS (New & Old) understand the ENTIRE scope of The Time War and its effects on the world as a whole. ALL OF IT IS MIXED CANON / DIVERGENT CANON constructed by myself, and it is housed within my OWN UNBOUND TIMELINE (the canon of this blog).

This is the culmination of not just myself, but EVERY roleplay Partner who's ever asked to plot this era of my blog's timeline with me. It incorporates every single idea we've all collectively discussed into one comprehensive timeline.

FOR MY GENSHIN MUTUALS: // You only have to acknowledge what you feel comfortable acknowledging. The Time War did and DIDN'T happen. The Canon of my blog is only as canon as YOU allow.

GREEN HIGHLIGHTED TEXT REPRESENTS THE SCARF DOCTOR

ORANGE HIGHLIGHTED TEXT REPRESENTS THE WAR DOCTOR

THE TIME WAR IS AFFILIATED WITH MUSES BELONGING TO @kemikorosu & @lunaetis. At the moment, this list may be SUBJECT TO CHANGE depending on how many mains and mutuals start getting involved in the TIME WAR. TO AVOID UPSETTING ANYONE, or PUTTING THE LONGEST POST KNOWN TO MAN ON DASH, the TIME WAR is going to be slid under a READ MORE.

TRIGGER WARNING: The Time War is Dark, too dark to list all the triggers off- so it's considered TYPICAL WAR ANGST. You have been warned.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

The Time War is a war across space and time that is fought between two races; The Daleks & The Timelords. In one Corner, The Daleks are the mutated remains of THE KALED PEOPLE, who now survive by living in battle tanks. They believe they are the totally genetically superior species in the universe, and make it their life's purpose to conquest and enslave The Universe. In the other corner, The Timelords- A race of omnipotent gods that mastered the use of Time Travel and are practically immortal. Sworn to never interfere, they only watch.

When THE TIMELORDS foresaw a point in time where The Daleks would become TOTALLY unchallenged across The Timeline, they sent The Fourth Doctor back in time to try and avert their creation or delay their growth. While he didn't technically SUCCEED in this mission, he didn't technically FAIL- either... however, this was essentially the spark that lit the fuse within The War.

FROM THAT POINT ONWARD, The Daleks would begin mastering Time & Space Travel, naming THE DOCTOR their greatest enemy, and swearing to totally take over and control Gallifrey...

THE BUILD-UP.

THIS IS A DIVERGENT TIMELINE. The Source of The Divergence came at the end of the SEVENTH DOCTOR's life, when he was killed SHORTLY before The Enemy Within (The 1996 TV Movie) but not until AFTER Survival (The Final Episode before Doctor Who's a cancellation in 1989.) The Alternate Eighth Doctor, otherwise known as THE SCARF DOCTOR- is the beginning of a DIVERGENT TIMELINE.

In The Doctor's SEVENTH INCARNATION- He encountered The Daleks (Episode: Remembrance of The Daleks) having a civil war on Earth and battling for a Timelord weapon known as THE HAND OF OMEGA, the device used to forge THE EYE OF HARMONY and make Time Travel possible. Due to The Doctor's meddling, the Daleks were tricked into destroying SKARO's OWN Sun... which expanded and engulfed the planet.

IT WOULD TAKE THE DALEKS A LONG TIME to find a new home planet, which they would dub a NEW SKARO. However, Skaro's destruction marked the END of The Dalek Civil War, as the empire began to disappear into the darkness. They would NOT return until The Doctor had reached his EIGHTH incarnation (Scarf)- in which he found The Daleks scavenging for resources that they were pulling into a pocket dimension that he could not follow them through.

AFTER ENCOUNTERING THE DALEKS and REALIZING THAT THEY MAY VERY WELL BE PLANNING A RETURN- The Doctor ventured to GALLIFREY and attempted to warn Romana of The Threat, he found that Gallifrey was currently undergoing preparations for a TIME TREATY, in which Gallifrey would extend its resources out toward other races.

DURING THE TIME TREATY, The Daleks EMERGED from their POCKET UNIVERSE (Which made way for The Unbound Adaptation of THE APOCALYPSE ELEMENT to take place, with Scarf as a stand-in for Six.) They Assaulted The Gallifreyan assembly and took many lives, while also capturing TIME TRAVEL EQUIPMENT and fleeing. It was a smash-and-grab.

THE RETURN OF THE DALEKS (The Inciting Incidents)

WHEN THE DALEKS ATTACK GALLIFREY- It sends The High Council into a frenzy, and the citadel of Gallifrey goes into a panic. In their panic, Romana steps down from her Presidency. She becomes head of the Celestial Intervention Agency- while The High Council and The Next President- Lyvia, assemble a WAR COUNCIL for the upcoming and inevitable conflict with The Daleks.

AS THE CONFLICT BEGINS TO BREW, The Doctor carefully monitors Dalek's activity and tries to stay out of their way. He occasionally attempts to trip up their war efforts but to little avail. The Doctor is involved in many confrontations across Time and Space with The Daleks while they prepare their lead-up to The Time War.

In One Encounter, The Doctor comes across a new Dalek Supreme Variant. The DALEK TIME STRATEGIST is a fearsome Dalek BATTLE COMMANDER who can view shifts in a timeline. Tapped into The Dalek Patheweb and The Time Vortex, The Time Strategist proves to be one of the most fearsome foes The Doctor has ever faced. In their first encounter, The Time Strategist outsmarts The Doctor... resulting in the death of his Companion, Dehya [LUNAETIS' PORTRAYAL.]

THE DEATH OF DEHYA BREAKS THE DOCTOR, who goes on a one-man hunt for THE DALEKS and Their Headquarters. Along the way, he realizes that Davros has also been recruited by The Dalek Empire- who have SUCCESSFULLY RESTORED THE DALEK EMPEROR- (WHO HADN'T BEEN SEEN SINCE THE 60'S STORY EVIL OF THE DALEKS)

THE DOCTOR eventually DISCOVERS that The Daleks are hiding in the abyss, a pathway to the VOID accessible through a little planet called TEYVAT (One that The Scarf Doctor first made contact with long before he'd met Dehya.) During his mission to find The Daleks- The Doctor encounters LUMINE [KEMIKOROSU's PORTRAYAL] In this timeline- Lumine is the traveler, and Aether is the abyss prince.

The Doctor & Lumine venture into the Abyss and learn that (SOMEWHERE AROUND WHEN UPDATE 2.6 HAPPENS) The Daleks OVERPOWER and OVERTHROW the Abyss Order. Those who surrender are used to harvest resources from The Abyss and Khaenri'ah technology. By the time The Doctor discovers what The Daleks have been doing, The Daleks have already engineered their BRONZE armor via HARVESTED ruin guard armor and combined DALEK technology.

THE DOCTOR can do NOTHING to stop the NEW and IMPOWERED Dalek Empire from waging war with GALLIFREY. He Time Locks Teyvat to prevent The Daleks from invading through the abyss rifts and prepares to leave to warn The War Council. IN THIS TIMELINE- Aether (Who had been previously rescued by Lumine & The Doctor) takes over as the guardian of Teyvat so that Lumine can accompany The Doctor, arguing that he needs someone to watch his back.

THE DOCTOR arrives on GALLIFREY with LUMINE to learn that THE WAR COUNCIL is already engineering BATTLE TARDISES and preparing for WAR with THE DALEKS. The Doctor is too late, nothing can stop it: THE LAST GREAT TIME WAR HAS STARTED.

RUNNING FROM THE WAR

THE FIRST STRIKE FROM THE DALEKS COMES WHEN THE DALEKS ATTACK AND ANNEX A PLANET THAT IS HOME TO TIMELORD ALLIES. Gallifrey launches a counterattack immediately, and the war breaks out across the universe.

ASHAMED OF HIS PEOPLE and ASHAMED OF HIMSELF, The Doctor runs from The War while doing his best to try and help people caught in the crossfire without getting involved. Lumine continues to travel with him through this.

The DEVASTATING effects OF THE WAR begin affecting all of TIME AND SPACE. Enemies, Friends, Allies, and even FAMILY beg The Doctor to do something- and he refuses everyone. He wants nothing to do with The War.

When Lumine & Scarf go on one final adventure to the town of storybrooke, where they get involved in all kinds of hijinks- The Time War begins to spread to earth, and things start to leak through- things The Doctor can no longer IGNORE. When a PSYCHIC PROJECTION of an old ACADEMY friend: Damon, appears before THE DOCTOR- begging him to fight... he presents The Doctor with an EXTRA LIFE, coded in the language of a SOLDIER... a WARRIOR... and The Doctor knows... there's no more running from the war.

PHYSICIAN HEAL THYSELF: DOCTOR NO MORE.

THE WAR DOCTOR IS FORGED: JOINING THE WAR.

REGENERATING INTO A SOLDIER and THROWING his old name away, The War Doctor immediately gets involved in The War by rejecting BOTH SIDES. The Timelords attempt to pull his TARDIS to Gallifrey and in breaking free- The War Doctor and Lumine crash upon a strange planet.

There, they find Davros- who has been EX-COMMUNICATED from the Dalek army, but he attempts to prepare a barter for his children in the form of THE NIGHTMARE CHILD- A Virus based on a conversation The Doctor & Davros had back when they first met- THE VIRUS destroys ANYTHING it touches. It consumes, destroys, and infects...

When even DAVROS' OWN REPROGRAMMED DALEKS reject the idea, Davros goes mad- and unleashes THE NIGHTMARE CHILD on the planet. In his first ever war crime, The War Doctor is able to stop the Nightmare Child from spreading across the universe- however, the Nightmare Child is programmed to never stop until it completes feeding... The War Doctor keeps it limited to JUST the planet the duo is on... and they flee. Davros is consumed by his own virus.

DURING THE TIME WAR, GALLIFREY RESSURECTS RASSILON to lead them in the war. Rassilon goes through many regenerations- settling on a general and a queen by the very end of the war. RASSILON IS RUTHLESS, and orders PROJECT REVENANT to be used- qn engine that brings dead timelord soldiers back to life, over and over.

AS A SOLDIER in The Time War, The Doctor & Lumine act INDEPENDENTLY and do what they can. Together, they thwart all kinds of schemes while being tasked with SUICIDE MISSIONS for The War Council, who wish to see the duo destroyed. IN ONE MISSION, The Daleks even try to USE LUMINE to re-activate ANCIENT CELESTIAL TECHNOLOGY that could help them rewrite reality. This fails and the weapon overloads, but it consumes THREE galaxies in its detonation.

DURING THE MIDDLE OF THE WAR, The Borders of Reality grow weak enough for The Daleks to pass through. When The Timelords pick up intelligence that indicates The Daleks might be planning to build a BASE within the ALTERNATIVE. The Timelords CAPTURE LUMINE and send The War Doctor on a suicide mission ALONE into The MIRROR UNIVERSE.

THE MIRROR UNIVERSE AND THE CATACLYSM

THE HIGH COUNCIL WAS RIGHT. Daleks WERE breaking through to another universe. In a PARALLEL timeline where The Daleks and The Timelords are ABSENT- The War Doctor chases The Daleks to a parallel universe. Due to the corrosive nature of The Time War, the other universe isn't moving as UNSTABLE or AS FAST as The War Doctor's. When The Doctor arrives, he meets a DOPPLEGANGER of Lumine, on her FIRST JOURNEY through Teyvat- prior to when the OTHER TWIN AWAKES. [The Mirror Lumine // Lunaetis' portrayal.]

While CHASING THE DALEKS across THE HISTORY of this alternative Teyvat, The War Doctor ACCIDENTALLY leaves Dalek and remains in Teyvat's past. These remains go on to help Khaenri'ah discover FORBIDDEN KNOWLEDGE which leads to The Cataclysm and Celestia's intervention.

THE DALEKS MAKE A HOP RIGHT INTO THE CATACLYSM, Where The War Doctor confronts them again. This time, during the fall of Khaenri'ah, where he confronts MIRROR LUMINE again, and he tells her about The Time War and The Daleks. The War Doctor is able to defeat The Daleks and return to his own timeline through a hole that was torn open by The Daleks... but the effect he leaves upon the Alternate Teyvat sends ripples into his future...

THE FINAL DAYS OF THE WAR

AFTER RETURNING and REUNITING WITH his NATIVE LUMINE, The War Doctor & Lumine continue to battle in The Time War, but the conflict gets even more devastating when Rassilon and The War Council start unleashing weapons from The OMEGA ARSENAL.

Rassilon SUBJECTS THE UNIVERSE TO HORRORS BEYOND BELIEF. They unleash the NEVERWHEN, The Could've Been King, and HIs Army of Neverweres. Rassilon's EFFECT on The War Effort does more damage, as Rassilon directly threatens THE DALEK EMPEROR on MULTIPLE OCCASIONS, forcing too many more AGGRESSIVE attacks and counterattacks. The War Doctor begins to believe that there might not BE a peaceful resolution to The War or any end in sight.

THE CLIMAX OF THE WAR begins to BUILD WHEN THE DALEKS steal a WEAPON FROM THE ARSENAL called THE MOMENT. The Moment, a sentient weapon with consciousness, is used by The Daleks only once. They test its REALITY ALTERING CAPABLITIES on TEYVAT. The Instability of the War causes enough damage to be done for THE TIME LOCK to break, AND THE DALEKS TURN TEYVAT INTO A WASTELAND RULED BY THE DALEKS.

TO LURE THE DOCTOR into the alternate Timeline, The TIME STRATEGIST kidnaps Lumine. This forces The War Doctor to call upon AETHER to help him rescue Lumine. Due to The War Doctor's interference, AETHER is not subjected to the changes to the Timeline The Daleks made. [THE AETHER / WAR THREAD IS BETWEEN MYSELF AND @artificeheart, AND CAN BE READ HERE.]

The War Doctor and Aether work through their difficulties to try and save Teyvat from The Daleks and their interference. Observing the damage The Daleks have done through just ONE use of The Moment- The War Doctor believes that it is the key to ending the war and saving the current timeline- so he ventures to THE STRATEGIST IN ORDER TO CAPTURE IT.

THE WAR DOCTOR RECOVERS THE MOMENT FROM THE STRATEGIST. Aether and Lumine are able to be reunited- but just before anything can be done- THE TIME STRATEGIST GUNS DOWN LUMINE... Her Death appeals to the consciousness of The Moment, who undoes The Daleks' damage to Teyvat and Restores Lumine to life.

Understanding that the END OF THE WAR HAS COME, The War Doctor prepares to end The War once and for all by using the Moment to Destroy both Gallifrey and The Daleks. He leaves Lumine behind in a heartfelt goodbye and heads for Gallifrey.

THE REVIVAL OF THE MASTER

WHEN THE TIMELORDS AGREE That there is a probable Chance The Doctor will destroy them, they concoct a plan in order to try and avert the end of the war to deliver Gallifrey's supreme victory of The War by ELIMINATING THE DOCTOR'S INTERFERENCE.

THEY RESURRECT THE MASTER- (WHO ALSO GETS A DIVERGENT HISTORY HERE- Last seen also in Survival- Doctor Who's the final story before cancellation.) THEY RESTORE THE MASTER into a new body, marking The End of THE TREMAS MASTER and The Birth of THE WAR MASTER. In this timeline, The War Master is young and ferocious- insane and unhinged.

BELIEVING THAT THE MASTER WILL BE SUCCESSFUL IN HIS MISSION if he has all the same advantages and parameters as THE DOCTOR, The Timelord High Council pairs The Master with a companion based on shared psychological profiles. He is assigned The Fourth Harbinger, Arlecchino, as his companion [LUNAETIS' PORTRAYAL]

THE WAR MASTER AND ARLECCHINO are TASKED ASSASINATING THE DOCTOR. They begin their mission by tearing open a hole in the universe and pursuing The Doctor to where he's been stranded.

The War Master is able to learn via the high council that The Incarnation of The Doctor he must hunt down and destroy is stranded in a parallel universe- unable to return. If he DOES return to the main universe, it'll be at the exact moment he LEFT... and he will kill them all.

The War Master learns that DALEKS were the ones who first stepped through to the Mirror Universe- and tricks The Daleks into providing him with technology to reach the Mirror Universe by promising them he will OPEN THE DOORWAY and allow them to kill The Doctor.

THE STRANDED PLOTLINE

BEFORE HE CAN REACH THE END OF THE WAR, a crack in time swallows a broken, end of his ropes War Doctor. Being Flung back into The Mirror Universe, where time moves slower- The War Doctor believes he might be able to return to The War at the precise moment he left.

However, he's paired with a new COMPANION: Abyss Princess Lumine, who he previously met in his suicide mission into the Parallel universe. The Abyss Princess agrees to help him return home, and travels with him during this plotline.

Together The War Doctor & Abyss Lumine surmise that the only way to get The War Doctor home is to gather the Key to Time- as the moment is powerless in an alternative universe. The Key to time was a powerful object that was hidden at the start of the war by its respective guardians. It's hiding place? Just so happened to be the Mirror Universe...

THE WAR DOCTOR & ABYSS LUMINE travel together across different planets assembling the key. Along the way, they travel to Teyvat's distant future and discover on a colony moon- that Khaenri'ah descendants have "restored" the Hilichurls to their "evolved" state. Recovered Remains of Daleks left behind during The Mirror Mission incident were used to Mutate Hilichurls into DALEKS NATIVE TO THE MIRROR UNIVERSE.

DURING THEIR TRAVELS, The War Master & Arlecchino intercept the duo and steal their segments of The Key to Time. The War Master uses the segments HE'D collected himself (upon LEARNING that the key was hidden in the universe) to assemble THE WHOLE KEY, and RIPS a hole open between The Mirror Universe and The Stranded Universe... ALLOWING THE TIME WAR DALEKS TO INVADE MIRROR LUMINE'S UNIVERSE.

THE WAR MASTER attempts to TRY AND USE THE KEY TOO REWRITE THE HISTORY OF THE DALEKS so that THE MASTER was the creator as opposed to DAVROS- but this plan backfires horribly when THE WAR DOCTOR interferes and uses the key to CLOSE THE RIFT BETWEEN UNIVERSES-- All promptly before he can say goodbye to ABYSS LUMINE.

THE WAR MASTER is left to The Mercy of The Daleks, but he SAVES both himself and Arlecchino by sending his companion back home using a VORTEX MANIPULATOR he acquired on his travels. The War Master then uses the last of his TARDIS' power and the instability of The War to ESCAPE... but regenerates in the process.

WITH THE KEY SCATTERED and THE WAR DOCTOR returned to his point of departure in the native universe... The War Doctor heads to Gallifrey.

THE TIME WAR REACHES ITS CONCLUSION WHEN THE WAR DOCTOR TRAVELS TO THE HEART OF THE WAR AND USES THE MOMENT TO DESTROY BOTH THE DALEKS & THE TIMELORDS. THE ACT CAUSES THE WAR DOCTOR TO DIE FATALLY AND REGENERATE INTO THE GOTH DOCTOR...

IT ALL ENDS WITH ONE... BIG... BANG...

[nihilisticgenesis]

“   I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. ” / sloan!

-> || Theseus — “It only takes 2,555 days…”

“Such is the slow agonizing horror of living… isn’t it?”

His voice rings hollow in the empty cells where good people had once been forged into weapons to carve out a future that didn’t include them. Strangely, he had never considered himself one of them, despite also being a product of the doctor’s and his savior’s machinations. This place was important to him, in the sense this is where he had been fundamentally changed in the course of his service to his master, he wondered if it was the same for Sloan.

“It only takes two thousand, five hundred and fifty-five days for every cell in your body to be replaced with a new one. Seven years, give or take depending on health, and environmental concerns. Only medical journals I ever got to read were ancient archaic texts from a people so far from us now that who knows if it even applies to us here in gunsmoke anymore.”

His smile is bitter, and all too brief as he glances over his shoulder and continues to pace the vacant corridor half lost in the memories of what he helped commit here. Comforting another wasn’t in his nature as it was an act all to foreign to him, so all he could offer his nervous charge were the idle musings of a mind left far too long in isolation. A glimmering light caught his eye and stopped him in his tracks, a familiar empty vial on the ground.

“Seven years… at least that’s how it was supposed to go.” Even his laughter was empty of joy, silent in his lungs at the impossible reality of it all. “The doctor never told us the drugs make it happen faster. The first dose, for some, induces the death of entire decades of biomaterial in the span of a few hours. By comparison a death every seven years is almost comforting… almost.”

Legato turned the small glass Vial in his palm thoughtfully before turning around and offering the empty cylinder to Sloan with a look of uncertain apology.

“By which I mean to say, You’re not… and never will be again. Yourself died a long time ago, killed by myself and the others within this facility before you had the chance to know what was happening. It might not have been the drugs that did it but… it certainly didn’t help. And someday… this ‘you’ I’m talking to will die as well, again and again until there’s nothing left.” He shrugged softly, his eyes darting about in search for more to say as he couldn’t bring himself to focus fully on his companion’s gaze. 

“That’s the horror of living, no matter what sort of choices you make in life, an imperceptible part of you dies every single day without your knowledge. Life goes on and you slog through it and suddenly when you come for air… you can’t recognize yourself anymore. In the blink of an eye everything is completely different.”

After a few moments of torturous silence, Legato seemed to steel himself a bit, reaching out to hold onto Sloan’s hand with the vile as he continued.

“I guess, by death I really mean change. Death is a scary word, as it is definitive and final, but death also welcomes change. You might not recognize yourself someday Sloan, but for every part of you that dies a new one is created soon after. And whatever becomes of you then, it doesn’t necessarily mean that all the new parts of you are inherently wrong or scary, or anything. That’s all for you to decide.”

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO NEFE COSMIA, MAI ZENIN. 🌓

ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: Jessica

age: 26

pronouns: she / they

ooc contact: causalitymark on twitter

other characters in xc: Raven (Path to Nowhere)

ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

name: Mai Zenin

age: 16

pronouns: she / her

series: Jujutsu Kaisen

canon point: Chapter 149

app triggers: child abuse, misogyny, mass murder

personality: If there was a world where Mai could live a boring life as a girl with nothing special about her, she would pick that world over any other. Instead, she was thrust into one where she had something more than the average human yet nothing compared to everyone else around her. In this world, she and her twin were punished simply for existing.

It was with this curse placed upon them that she forged a shield against those who would look down on her. Mai learned to protect herself by acting snide and abrasive, unaffected by the constant horrors offered in the jujutsu world, but at her core, she is just a scared girl. Unlike her twin, she lacks the tenacity to withstand everything. She is emotional, feels with everything she is, and doesn’t know how to separate from her heart. 

Yet these innate parts of her were never a sin to begin with, and it makes Mai an intensely loving individual towards those she cares about. Always attuned, she is insightful to their feelings and makes an effort to look after them. Although she still struggles to express such affections outwardly, she pays it forward through her actions. Through love, she becomes brave.

something your muse struggles with: Reacting based on emotion. Too often, Mai has trouble coming down from the height of her emotions and tries to run away by acting on them, no matter how much she’ll regret it later.

your muse’s greatest strength: Loyalty. It’s quite difficult to earn the trust of someone who hasn’t received much of it early in her life, and most especially not since someone she placed all of her trust in broke it into tiny little pieces, but once it is accomplished, she will do almost anything for you. 

history / background: In the jujutsu world, twins are considered the ultimate curse for a family. This was no different for Mai and Maki, who were twins born into the Zenin family, one of the three prominent jujutsu clans. In addition to being perceived as a blight by their clan, they were made to work as servants because they were women. Such mistreatment reached its peak when Maki decided to become a sorcerer in spite of her status as a twin, a women, and one without any curse technique. The head of the Zenin clan laughed in her face and ensured he would make this process as grueling as possible, thereby subjecting Mai to the same treatment. They are, after all, considered as one in this existence.

Forced to become a sorcerer, Mai dragged herself through ordeal after ordeal to reach Grade 3, having never wanted to fight cursed spirits in all those years. She was molded into the shape of a soldier, but her heart remained a girl who dreamed of the sea. If just once in this life, she would’ve loved to wear a flowing dress, wasting her time away until the sun went to sleep on the horizon.

A similar peace was brought forth on the day she made a wish with Maki.

After Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer in the world, was sealed away, a power struggle fell among the three clans. The late head of the Zenin clan wrote in his will that Megumi Fushiguro would become his successor and passes all Zenin assets to him. Unwilling to lose so much power to an outsider and an ally of Gojo Satoru, they decided to kill Megumi, Maki, and Mai. 

Mai was already found bleeding on the ground when Maki had arrived, seeking to retrieve the cursed weapons from the Zenin storage. Their father grievously injured her, and he was planning to do the same to Maki. The man dragged his daughters down to an area filled with cursed spirits waiting to devour them. In that moment, Mai made a decision.

So long as the both of them remained in this world, they would remain in a constant tug-and-pull for cursed potential between them. Maki’s physical prowess will never be fully realized so long as Mai is here, and Mai’s cursed energy will never fully bloom so long as Maki is here. 

Mai decided to create a cursed weapon for Maki to use and defeat all the cursed spirits around her. In exchange, she wished—and cursed—Maki into destroy everything for her. Having already been deeply injured, Mai dies from the exertion, but she would never separate from Maki in the end. With Mai’s weapon in Maki’s hand, they fought as one. 

powers / abilities:

CONSTRUCTION: This is Mai’s cursed technique. It gives her the ability to create something from nothing permanently, but it also takes up most of her cursed energy. She is only able to create things like a bullet once per day without suffering major consequences for it.

inherent abilities: 

CURSED ENERGY: Mai carries a low reservoir of cursed energy, a power source that is created from negative emotions. This allows her to enhance her gun and bullets to create a stronger impact. She can also see cursed spirits and surround her body with the energy to protect herself from external forces, though hers is thinner than most.

SUPERIOR MARKSMANSHIP: Although it isn’t a prominent skill in the jujutsu world, Mai does possess precise marksmanship with guns. Having trained extensively to understand the firepower, recoil, and effective range of any gun in her hand, she is able to snipe someone with from a far distance away, even if it’s a revolver.

items / weapons: 

REVOLVER: Her emotional support glocky. Also, it’s the prettiest gun to her.

starting ability: Construction

starting item: Revolver

extra:

i binge read the entirety of the shibuya arc into the zenin mini-arc in the span of 7 hours i feel like melted cheese

when the ducks migrate, they search for true north together..... . ... . ... ......

mai is a lesbian (:

discord id: reedworth passcode: dude how did u survive all of that in the span of a day ur stronger than god

[wexarethewalkingxdead]

Which female horror archetype are you?

the heroine

the ingenue, the maiden, the madonna. you're feared because of your cleverness. like the survivor, you're often the target of terrible horrors, but unlike her, you find your strength in knowledge instead of physical endurance. your patron saint is reiko asakawa. you're most compatible with the she-beast, whose torment could be eased by your gentle touch.

What kind of supervillain is your muse?

lovestruck henchman to the big bad

just like smee and captain hook <3 but yeah, you're not a huge baddie yourself. you're in this for the love of the one closest to you, a noble and miserable cause--but your fierce loyalty knows no limits. you will not hesitate to hurt those who pose any threat to your favorite. your devotion will devour you. your villainy is at its core, a loving tragedy.

If you were a deity what would be your domain?

Warfare and the Forge

You are the divine patron of battle, conflict, and the weapons forged to fight them. You are quick to temper and obstinate in disposition, and you also govern heroic attributes such as strength, courage, and honor. Due to your domain’s ability to bring widespread death and suffering, much of the mortal realm often looks upon you with fear and disdain. However, you also give life to transformative and regenerative forces such as revolution and rebellion, and your innovative forge has birthed vital technologies of science, beauty and prosperity alongside its spears and armor. Mortals look to you for bravery and prowess in battle as well as skilled craftsmanship, and your mythological equivalents are Greece’s Ares and Hephaestus, Scandinavia’s Odin, Egypt’s Sobek, and Mesoamerica’s Huītzilōpōchtli.

What kind of touch do you possess?

powerful touch

you leave me breathless. you are someone that is destined to do great things. everything you do is with a purpose and dedication. you are a powerful presence that leaves their mark on the world. focused, confident, and striking is how others would describe you. others come to you for trustworthy advice and honest opinions. you have few that you consider close and whom you will open up to. you often push down your emotions and put up a strong persona because you are scared of vulnerability. you protect others hard and your heart harder. i love you, bad bitch.

Which Rage Language Are You?

step back

usually, you're able to bottle up your emotions and ignore the frustrations. but, after weeks of shoving everything down, your body needs a release, and i pity the poor person who managed to piss you off. it's screaming crying, shouting, kicking lockers, whatever you can do to get it out of your system. it's a whole jean grey moment, fire and fury blasting out of you.

What chess piece represents you?

White Rook

You are a White Rook. As a piece that can move inwards and outwards, you're a master of self-reflection. You know what needs to be done and when to do it. You're a protector, and would willingly take someone's place in danger in a heartbeat because you know you can handle the pressure. But even castle walls crumble. For all your chivalry and fortitude, everything must come to an end. Will you be there to see the final stages of the war? Or will you have already been discarded in the battle?

what brand of stupid are you?

Confidently stupid

You think you are the smartest person on earth as you put your spoon in the microwave to make it easier to scoop ice cream. You give awful advice that sounds smart when spoken but terrible when executed. You insist on doing things yourself and are so absolutely sure you are doing everything right. Your confidence gives you charm, as well as the bravery to do the dumb things that you do

Why Do You Hurt?

you're choking on how much you have to try

you have tried. you have carried the weight of the world on your shoulders and accepted more responsibilities than you have ever wanted, even intended to gain. it isn't crushing - you are strong enough to hold it - but you are choking. you don't know what to do with it. you don't know where it goes, how to move this weight everyone knows you can hold onto, and do you even want to get rid of it? Never. You would not give this to - force this on - anyone else. but you /can't/. but you are choking on it. your body will hold it up even when you lose all the air in your lungs, and your footing, and your courage. it does not mind choking you. it seems almost designed to do so. if you weren't wrung out you wouldn't be doing this thing properly.

[reconnect-re-union]

RE:Connect. RE:Live. RE:Union.

It’s been over a year since the events of Kingdom Hearts 3, and people are still recovering from the Keyblade War. In the shadows of Xehanort’s evil plans, the Worlds had shuddered in fear, but now they are preservering, healing.

People long thought dead have been reappearing, living and breathing just as before, so many reunions have been happening across the Universe. Yet even those who never died are returning to homes they lost to Darkness, forging new friendships, and meeting their recompleted loved ones. Every star shines as bright as before they fell.

Yet in the Light we leave, something sinister lurks. The shadows part, revealing a foe more powerful than Heartless, Nobodies, and Unversed alike. Creatures who can craft massive illusions, drain the life of Worlds, and give off more Light than Kingdom Hearts itself: The Holy.

Will you choose to press on against this Light, or fall victim to its scorching touch? Just how long will this fight go on? How far will the Holy’s Light reach?

For roleplayers 16 and up, RE:Union is a canon divergent roleplay server set after KH3 and most of RE:Mind. The events of Melody of Memories and anything relating to Quadratum are not considered canon, meaning Yozora and similar characters can not be applied for.

What does RE:Union offer?

✦ Playful roleplay and a tightly-knit community. Our roleplay is slower paced, but we’re still available for people who wanna rp more often!

✧ Allows Final Fantasy muses, but focuses heavily on Kingdom Hearts’ original plot and Disney Worlds.

✧ Final Fantasy muses must have Kingdom Hearts-style backstories, such as being from an original KH World or a Disney World

✦ Tupperbox (our preference) and Pluralkit, as well as a handful of other bots used for fun.

✧ New monsters to fight, all designed by members of our server!

✦ Personal “muse rooms” for you to leave drabbles, headcanons, and outfits of your current muses.

✧ D&D-inspired events held about every 5-6 weeks, with miniature events and activities in between. This includes a battle system with unique spells, weapons, and items!

✦ Characters we’re looking for:

✧ Organization members such as Luxord and Xigbar!

✦ Goofy

✧ Vidar

✦ Ansem The Wise

✧ Ansem, Seeker of Darkness

✦ Cast members of the first TWEWY game such as the Reapers

✧ Members of family Madrigal (Encanto, 2021)

✦ Characters from Coco (2017)

✧ Final Fantasy 16 Characters

✦ Zack Fair

✧ And more! Here's our character list! Message us or send an ask with your discord tag for a link to the server. We hope to see you there!

[fury-of-darkin]

Chaos Interactions With Every Champ

Ahri: “I remember every battle... And I remember your kind...”

Akali: “Carve your own path, Akali, and cut down any who defy you.”

Akshan: “You would wage war alone... But what if you had allies at your back, Akshan?”

Alistar: “Are you content to watch your kind live and die as Noxian puppets?”

Amumu: “Even in a sea of sorrow, the seeds of strife can still grow...”

Anivia: “How long will your remain idle while your brothers fight, Anivia?”

Annie: “The bear merely reflects what is within you, child. Let it out...”

Aphelios: “Rise against your oppressors, and bathe the sun in blood!”

Ashe: “Your unity will never last...”

Aurelion Sol: “Even the stars are not above war.”

Bard: “May this battle be commemorated in the heavens...”

Blitzcrank: “Can a machine become a warrior? Let us find out!”

Bel’Veth: “This world was forged in war. Its people will fight until the last.”

Brand: “The second-coming of the Runewars is at hand...”

Braum: “To protect what you hold dear, blood MUST be spilled.”

Caitlyn: “The only law on the battlefield is chaos.”

Camille: “The more you oppress the masses, the more their resentment grows.”

Cassiopeia: “You know not what you’ve unleashed, snake... But I thank you, regardless.”

Cho’Gath: “Will the Void consume Runeterra... Or the reverse?”

Corki: “A war to bloody the heavens themselves... Perhaps you are onto something, yordle.”

Darius: “I sense... Hesitation. Doubt. Your time is nearing its end, general.”

Diana: “Lead the Lunari to war, Diana, or they will leave you behind.”

Dr. Mundo: “Remember who you were. Remember what you’ve suffered. Do you not hate them, Mundo?”

Draven: “Battle is not sport, Draven; it is ART.”

Ekko: “So long as Piltover stands, Zaun will suffer. You know this... You can change it.”

Elise: “What will you do, I wonder, when your followers learn the truth of your deceptions?”

Evelynn: “War drew you to this realm, but it seems you developed... Different methods.” Alternate (Joke): “The only lust I feel is bloodlust.”

Ezreal: “You’ve studied my legend. Now, your research has brought you to me...”

Fiddlesticks: “So, you have awakened again... Let us remind them why they fear us.”

Fiora: “I accept your challenge, Fiora.”

Fizz: “The battlefield is no place for games.”

Galio: “Demacia’s greatest weapon... I will cherish this fight!”

Gangplank: “You lost the battle, Captain, but you have not lost the war. Let us turn the tides, together...”

Garen: “To protect Demacia, you must crush ALL your enemies, Garen; even if they are your kin.”

Gnar: “Perhaps the only yordle fit to be considered my muse...”

Gragas: “This is no mere tavern brawl!”

Graves: “The call you a coward, liar, cheater, and fool... But when I am done, they will call you a warrior.”

Gwen: “True battle is far grander than a child’s fantasies. Let me show you...”

Hecarim: “The shadow of war... A shadow of your former glory.”

Heimerdinger: “You cannot escape war, professor. That... Is a fact.”

Illaoi: “Your god and I want the same thing, Illaoi; for you to fight with all that you have!”

Irelia: “Ionia’s enemies amass, even now. Lead your people to battle, Irelia!”

Ivern: “The Godwillow stole all that made you great, Ivern. I will avenge what was taken from you.”

Janna: “Only the worthy are remembered... Why should anyone pray to you, spirit?”

Jarvan IV: “A true king must fight for his right to rule.”

Jax: “You seek warriors to join your cause... Let me help you find them.”

Jayce: “To discard the old and make way for the new; THAT is true progress. That... Is war.”

Jhin: “Oh, the things we could do together, Jhin...” Alternate/Joke: “Finally, someone who understand my work!”

Jinx: “Fear, sorrow, anger, grief... All drowned out by madness.”

Kai’Sa: “It is not enough to merely survive. If you intend to fight, fight to win.”

Kalista: “You would have made a fine vessel for the Bow...”

Karma: “Your words ring true. Now, you must act upon them.”

Karthus: “The most elegant deaths are found in the heat of battle.”

Kassadin: “You crusade against the Void alone, but not for much longer...”

Katarina: “Assassins are but pawns of war, so easily discarded...”

Kayle: “We have fought once before, Aspect. let us see whose vessel triumphs this time!”

Kayn: “Your latest vessel has potential... More than you realize, Scythe.”

Kennen: “The Kinkou grasp tightly to their control of Ionia, strangling it...”

Kha’Zix: “Your are versatile, but can you adapt a warrior’s rage?”

Kindred: “You have witnessed each of my works. Now, prepare for another masterpiece!”

Kled: “Some call you a hero, while others call you mad. There is little difference between the two...”

Kog’Maw: “You remind me of someone I know... But you lack his eloquence.“

LeBlanc: “Do you even remember why you fight? Do you recall your true foe?”

Lee Sin: “So much potential, Lee Sin. You... May be the hero Ionia needs...”

Leona: “You cast love aside for faith, Leona. There is no room for regret.”

Lillia: “You are the walking embodiment of naiveté...”

Lissandra: “You are a coward, surrendering before the fight has even begun.”

Lucian: “Do not fear losing her again. Rage against those that would take her from you!”

Lulu: “The only color I need, child, is crimson...”

Lux: “War is coming, Luxanna. You MUST choose a side.”

Malphite: “You were made to be a weapon, Malphite. Remember your purpose...”

Malzahar: “You are not the first prophet I have slain, nor will you be the last...”

Maokai: “Life prevails, so long as it has the will to fight.”

Master Yi: “Are you truly fit to be called a master? Raise your blade, and show me.”

Miss Fortune: “Your fight is not over yet, Sarah. You must not rest until your foe is crushed.”

Mordekaiser: “We meet again, Sahn-Uzal. May this battle be as glorious as our last...”

Morgana: “How long will you hide from your sister, Morgana? Does she, too, not deserve judgement?”

Nami: “The moonstone only prolongs the inevitable. How long will the Marai tolerate this cycle?”

Nautilus: “Even the seas are but another venue for my work.” Alt/Joke: “I have seen many weapons... You are the first to wield an anchor.”

Neeko: “You may mimic my form, but can you match my blade?”

Nidalee: “Remember what the Kiilash did, Nidalee...”

Nilah: “Sadness and rage, snuffed out by Joy...”

Nocturne: “After the slaughter, the survivors will remember it in their dreams...”

Nunu and Willump: “Some day, you must take up a real weapon, child.”

Olaf: “You will be remembered, Olaf. I will see to that...”

Orianna: “What truly makes one human is the will to fight. Has that, too, been lost...?”

Ornn: “I admire your craft, but your flames are colder than they once were...”

Pantheon: “Remember why you fight, Atreus, or I will remind you...”

Poppy: “Heroes are not born or found; they are forged in blood.”

Pyke: “You are but the echo of bloodlust, wrapped in delusion.”

Qiyana: “Rouse your people, Qiyana! A new age dawns for Ixtal...”

Quinn: “Land or sky, no foe escapes my blade!”

Rakan: “Why do you truly fight, Rakan? For your cause, or for her...?”

Rammus: “People have gone to war in your name, Rammus. How fascinating...” Alt/Joke: “Yes, I am... Alright.”

Rek’Sai: “So the Void wars against itself. Interesting...”

Renata: “Wealth alone will not conquer the world. An empire must be built on a foundation of blood.”

Renekton: “So this is the Magus’s handiwork... I approve.”

Rengar: “In the jungle, you are a hunter. On the battlefield, you would be prey...”

Rhaast: “Your new vessel suits you, Scythe...”

Riven: “You are a warrior at heart, Riven. You cannot escape your own nature.”

Rumble: “An impressive machine, but how long will it last on the battlefield?”

Ryze: “The Runewars were extraordinary, but even greater conflicts lie ahead... ”

Sejuani: “Charge ahead, Sejuani! Let none stand in your path, not even the gods!”

Senna: “Your fight is not done until your enemy is dead, Senna. You disappoint me.”

Sett: “Battle is more than a spectacle. It is art, and I will make you my muse...”

Shaco: “The battlefield is no place for games.”

Shen: “You may see the realm of spirits, but you do not UNDERSTAND it.”

Shyvana: “When the war on magic reaches its apex, who will you stand with, Shyvana?”

Singed: “I know how to summon the monster in men. Allow me to show you...”

Sion: “An impressive attempt, but flawed execution. I will remind you of your true glory, Sion...”

Sivir: “War is on the horizon. You MUST fight, Sivir; it matters not for whom.”

Skarner: “I can help you avenge your kin, brackern...”

Sona: “The clashing of steel, the cries of the dying... These are MY music.”

Soraka: “You seek to protect them? Are you ready to spill blood to do so, Starchild?”

Swain: “March your armies as far as they will go, Grand General. Wage as much war as you can... You haven’t much time left.”

Sylas: “Rouse your kin, Sylas! Crush your oppressors! Show them you will not be silenced!”

Tahm Kench: “We meet again, River King. I thank you for providing me such a compatible host...”

Taliyah: “The earth remembers every drop of blood spilled upon it...”

Talon: “You harbor the instincts of a killer... I may make something of you yet...”

Taric: “A failure of a soldier, yet you would fight for the heavens? Pathetic...”

Teemo: “Beneath a kind smile and unassuming visage lies the heart of something greater...”

Tristana: “Allow me to teach you what it TRULY means to be a soldier...”

Trundle: “Show them your might, Troll King. Teach them to fear your kind, as they once did!”

Tryndamere: “Tryndamere... My greatest creation! Your rage will shake the heavens and earth alike...”

Twisted Fate: “Leave your fate to chance, and she will cut it short...”

Twitch: “You would wage war on the surface? ...I suppose I have worked with worse...”

Udyr: “There is little difference between men and beasts; you are living proof.”

Urgot: “Rise up, Urgot! Let Piltover and Noxus alike feel your wrath!”

Varus: “The bow is the cruelest of us all, yet YOUR hands guide its arrows...”

Vayne: “I sense the fear in your heart, huntress. Your guise cannot deceive me...”

Veigar: “You are but a twisted mirror of Sahn-Uzal... And a small one, at that.”

Vel’Koz: “For all your study, you have learned nothing of human nature. Allow me to enlighten you...”

Vi: “There can be no peace between the cities, Vi. War is coming... For whom will you fight?”

Viego: “You are a pale shadow, Viego; you will fade, and be forgotten.”

Viktor: “Emotion is no weakness, Viktor. Let me remind you what you seek to abandon...”

Vladimir: “You squander our gift, Vladimir. Where I make history, you linger in its shadows...”

Volibear: “Let us remind them of the fury in their hearts, spirit. Let us return this land to its ancient glory!”

Warwick: “An attempt was made, but the end result... I will put you out of your misery, beast.”

Wukong: “Fight and grow stronger, so that all your enemies will fear the name Wukong.”

Xayah: “The price of the freedom you seek is blood, Xayah... From human and vastaya alike.”

Xerath: “Xerath... Your work is truly outstanding. I am impressed...”

Xin Zhao: “You are Demacia’s greatest warrior, Xin Zhao. Make them remember why.”

Yasuo: “You once sought glory on the battlefield, Yasuo. It is not too late to claim it...”

Yone: “The answers you seek will not save you, Yone...”

Yorick: “A war of the undead? Interesting... I look forward to seeing the fruits of your labor.”

Yuumi: “Not all thresholds can be so easily crossed...”

ZAC: “Do not shrink away from what lurks in men’s hearts. It is beautiful, is it not?”

Zed: “Show Ionia’s enemies the might of darkness!”

Zeri: “Your home will never no peace, so long as they live beneath the boots of tyrants...”

Ziggs: “Your work would be greatly appreciated by any army.”

Zilean: “You cannot undo Icathia’s loss, but you can still strive for victory against its destroyer...”

Zoe: “Make no mistake, child: Twilight will discard you when you have served your purpose...”

Zyra: “My blade cuts deeper than any thorn.”

[archonanqi]

fragile as dust / 9 - the moments of peace

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a/n - hi! I've gotten some requests to start a tag list for this series. If you’d like to be tagged with updates, please send me an ask / message / reply! Thank you. :)

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ch 9 | the moments of peace

“To the left, to the left!” 

With an embarrassing screech, you lunged forward, desperately searching for any movement in the dry grass. You came up empty. Adrenaline still hot in your veins, you jumped violently when Xiangling pat you on the shoulder.

“ Your left,” Xiangling corrected, pointing in the opposite direction of which you threw yourself. 

You both stared wordlessly for a moment as the squirrel scurried away and out of sight. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, cheeks hot against the morning air. This was the third expedition you’d embarked on so far, and you’d still yet to catch anything that could move faster than a sweet flower.

“That’s okay! Just means that I’ll need to come up with some dishes to make with the ingredients we have so far!” You could almost hear the gears grinding in her brain as she rummaged through the basket of plants that you had gathered, murmuring to herself. “Is this everything we gathered today?”

You hesitated before rifling through your pockets and producing the brown, lumpy object you’d found at the start of your expedition. You weren’t sure it was even edible (it certainly didn’t smell like it), but you wondered if it might suffice to salvage the botched trip, even a little. 

“OH!” Xiangling’s eyes lit up soon as she saw what was in your hand. “Where did you find this?”

You peered at her cautiously, not sure if this was a good reaction or not. Also, her voice seemed to have hit a new high and you were worried it would begin to attract monsters. 

“Uh, back there, in those ruins. There was a bunch,” you offered, pointing in the direction. “Is it usable?”

Xiangling seemed to have begun visibly vibrating. “Usable? This is Matsutake! It’s a rare mushroom, and it’s so versatile that it can be used in place of any— Oh, I’ll explain later, let’s go get them all before a boar finds them first!” 

The sun was well above the horizon by the time you gathered enough Matsutake to fill the two baskets you’d brought. Xiangling had already started a fire with some Dendro slime concentrate — the way she’d taught you to do — when you returned from washing the mushrooms in a nearby stream. 

“Could you chop the Jueyun Chilis for me, please?” Xiangling said, barely looking up from the wok. No matter how bubbly she had been, the moment she stood in front of a blazing fire and a vast array of ingredients, Xiangling always adopted a demeanor of complete calm. It was almost unnerving to watch, sometimes, how focused she could get. You hurried to obey.

“How many?”

She peered up then, the licking flames painting her grin a bright orange. “Hansi, have I taught you nothing over the past week?” She thumped her chest twice with a flour-covered hand, “in Mondstadt, they might use measurements like cups and tablespoons— but that’s not how I do things! In Liyue, we listen to our hearts. Just let Rex Lapis guide your hand!”

You stared at the chilis. If you’re just giving out guidance nowadays , you directed your silent thoughts towards the earth beneath your feet, I’d love to know what your deal with the Vision is.

In the end, you emptied just half a chili into the wok, because even just chopping it was beginning to make your eyes water. It instantly stained the hot oil a bright red. For the rest of the morning, you watched as Xiangling bustled around your little campsite, tasting this and that, asking you for various small and bewildering favors — you certainly hope that she didn’t really use the lizard tail that she had you go hunt down. 

While at first you paid careful attention to Xiangling, the sight of a piece of Cor Lapis gleaming under the morning light dragged your thoughts elsewhere — towards what ( who ) was waiting for you when you returned home. 

“Okay!” Xiangling finally said, making you jump. “Sorry that took so long! I’ve never had so much Matsutake to experiment with at once.” She held out two neatly packaged lunch boxes. “Take these, one for you, one for Mr Zhongli! It’s Matsutake Stirfry with Potatoes and Carrots! … I’ll come up with a better name later.”

You accepted the boxes with gracious thanks, just the smell wafting from them making your mouth water. 

“I really want to see the look on your face when you taste it, but we’ve been out here for a little over five hours now,” Xiangling mused. Had it really already been five? Time seemed to fly when you were with Xiangling. “You should probably hurry home or Mr. Zhongli will get worried.”

You absently thanked her again, all the while wondering at the truth of that. Zhongli had certainly seemed a little worried after the incident with Tartaglia, briefly, though he quickly returned to his usual, unreadable demeanor. The idea that someone was waiting for you, would get worried if you never came home — it was bafflingly foreign, but also… so very warm. 

As you turned to go, you could hear the grin in Xiangling’s voice when she called after you, “and here you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to help. This dish was only possible because of you, Hansi!”

Briefly and painfully, you yearned to understand how Xiangling managed to make a good thing of any situation. It seemed that there was far more than just cooking that Xiangling could teach you.

—-------------------

“Wonderfully seasoned,” Zhongli praised that afternoon, and you prayed that he didn’t notice your cheeks blushing as red as the chili oil. “A perfect balance of spice. Did you help make this?”

You bit back a smile as you nodded, and sent Rex Lapis your silent thanks for his... guidance. 

—-------------------

Easing into Zhongli’s life was easier than you would ever have imagined. 

After your disastrous breakfast incident, you had made a habit of waking early and accompanying him on his walks in the morning — at first to make up for setting his house on fire, then later, out of enjoyment. You found yourself looking forward to your long walks, breathing in the fresh air and seeing Liyue Harbor bathed in the dawnlight. 

Before you knew it, you had memorized a few things about the mornings of Liyue: which routes to Yujing Terrace let you catch the early sunrise; what time Wanmin restaurant’s fresh shao’bing buns come out of the oven; and when little old Madame Ping, whom Zhongli always greeted respectfully, hobbled up the hill to water the glaze lilies. 

 It was only when Zhongli mentioned black perch stew and you lamented that Mr. Sun from the fish market wouldn’t get new stock until Monday, that you realized just how deeply entrenched in domestic life you had become.

There were other things you noticed too; the street corner where you used to play, sleep and beg. The sink behind the souvenir shop that you snuck to at night just to get a drink of clean water. Children who’d had the misfortune of being born like you, into families who couldn’t imagine feeding another mouth. 

These things struck you with increasing guilt — of every child of Liyue who grew up without a home, what made you deserving of salvation? — but mostly, with fear. If Zhongli got tired of you, if you once again found yourself in that life... 

Well. 

You swept those thoughts deep deep deeper into your head, and forged on.

—-------------------

“Another umbrella, Mr. Zhongli?” You raised a brow. When had you begun to point out his eccentric purchases? You weren’t sure. “We’ve bought four today.” 

“Ah,” Zhongli smiled, already reaching for the fifth. “Yes, so we have. Do you like white rabbit candy? Let’s get two bags.”

Resigned, you followed along, your exasperation quickly fizzling out as soon as you turned a corner and came face to face with the wide-eyed, dirt-smeared faces of a group of orphans. Dressed in lovely clean clothes and with so much color in your cheeks — you couldn’t imagine how you looked to them. You saw so much of yourself in their hungry gazes that you had to look away. 

You watched as Zhongli bent down so that he met them at eye level. “Please, accept these,” he held out the umbrellas, and suddenly you began finding it hard to breathe, “it looks like there’s a storm coming. And also, won’t you all also take some sweets—?”

—-------------------

You, of course, kept your contract with Zhongli, as religiously as you would one with an Adeptus, or Rex Lapis himself. Each book that you enjoyed, you meticulously brought to him as though an offering, and each time, he seemed to have something to offer of his own. A book about the Five Yaksha, tales of the Dragon King, the legend of how Guyun Stone Forest was formed, memoirs from Guili Assembly — Zhongli always had some twist of his own to add to the stories. 

“Did you know that before they came to serve Rex Lapis, the Yaksha were bound to a cruel, tyrannical God? Yet when they were freed, they chose to honor a contract to protect the humans of Liyue. How admirable.”

“Precious few stories speak of it, but the Dragon King was not sealed by Rex Lapis due to a disagreement, but rather, because he broke a contract. What contract exactly? Well, I can’t be ruining too many books for you now, can I, Hansi?”

“These illustrations of the spears that originally comprise Guyun Stone Forest are… certainly interesting. Why did they deem that stone spears formed from the essence of Geo themselves would possess tassels and a ribbon? I doubt that during the Archon War, Rex Lapis had time to consider the appearance of his weapons.” 

“My my, these books certainly are taking their liberties with their descriptions of the Goddess of Dust. Kind, yes, gentle, perhaps, but weak? Why, is the Guizhong Ballista not one of the most powerful mechanisms in all of Liyue, even thousands of years after it was built? I would truly like to see what these authors consider strength.” 

Each time you marveled at his vast pools of knowledge, Zhongli would, without fail, exhale deeply and smile his small smile. “I have a good memory,” was always his explanation. You couldn’t help but wonder just how many books the man had read in his lifetime — and where he found the time to do anything else. 

While you were frequently more than impressed by his reserve of stories, the sentiment did not seem to extend to others in Liyue. More than one time had you and Zhongli been escorted, forcibly, from the Third-Round Knockout after your companion stood up to correct the storyteller on the stage. 

The first time, you were mortified, though by the sixth you had learned to laugh it off as breezily as Zhongli did.

—-------------------

Sometimes, you recalled your earliest days at Zhongli’s house; how he had told you that your first order of business was to recover your health. 

You had recovered, and so, what was next to come? 

The house was always spotless despite the increasing number of items that Zhongli seemed to bring home each day from his walks. More than once, you reflected on his claims that he needed household help, and realized that he may not have been entirely truthful.

On particularly bad days, when the haze of doubt threatened to overtake every logical thought in your mind, you waited for his gaze to turn cruel, for his fingers to grip you painfully and for him to take whatever he wanted. 

Yet — never did he so much as touch you. 

—-------------------

The Vision sat as heavily in your conscience as it did in your bedside table.

You opened the drawer frequently to stare at the thing, more of a plague on you than a blessing, at this point. If you could not use it, then it was just an ornament — an ornament that put your  amicable acquaintanceship with Zhongli at risk. 

If he were to find out on his own, it would be so much worse than if you’d told him. The very notion of hurt, betrayal and fury in those amber eyes was almost too much for you to hear.

And so, one day, you decided that it would simply be best if you told him.

—-------------------

You rehearsed a script for hours on end, trying to guess each and every one of Zhongli’s potential reactions. Certainly, he would be upset, perhaps disappointed. You were almost sure that he would not hurt you over the discovery. And even if he did, perhaps it wouldn’t be anything you didn’t deserve, for lying for so long.

When you were finally ready, your knock on his door was answered by a deep, rich, “yes?” 

You had never seen the inside of Zhongli’s room before, and so as you pushed the door open, you couldn’t help the way your heart leapt at the idea of seeing more of the man, learning more about him.

Your gaze first laid upon his face, edged silver in the moonlight. Then, immediately, it trailed downwards, to his shoulders, then—

Zhongli wasn’t wearing even a scrap of clothing. 

“Oh,” he said, slightly raised brows betraying nothing but mild surprise, “I was changing.” 

Wordlessly, you slammed the door shut and returned to your room.

—-------------------

When Zhongli came knocking ten minutes later, you were still a little dazed. 

“Come in,” you called, and as he entered you were somewhat relieved to see that he was clad in his usual four layers of clothing. “Do you see how I said come in, Mr Zhongli? Because I wasn’t changing?”

“I believe what I said was ‘yes’.” It was never easy to tell what Zhongli was thinking, with his carefully neutral expression, but was there a small smile in his voice there?

“You can’t—“ you realized with a certain degree of shock at how casually you had begun to address Zhongli. (You searched yourself for fear, and found none.) “—You can’t just say ‘yes’ when what you mean is ‘hang on, I’m completely nude!’” 

“I do apologize. I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Zhongli said, and there was absolutely, definitely a small smile in his voice there. “What is it you wanted to tell me, Hansi?”

You opened your mouth, but paused. 

In the darkness of his room, you had barely been able to make out what seemed to be odd lines down his arms and chest — tattoos? You hadn’t expected a nobleman like him to be so covered in them. But more importantly, in the few seconds you had beheld Zhongli’s well-toned form, you had seen what you knew all too well — scars, raked across his torso, stomach, legs, the raised tissue gleaming under the moonlight. 

He had mentioned he had been fighting all his life, that he had been a soldier— but it was difficult to imagine even the Millelith facing foes so formidable that it could have left such injuries, and so many. What could have hurt him so badly? 

What was he hiding from you?

The way he was looking at you expectantly suddenly felt strangely alien; the same Zhongli you had come to know and trust, but— not quite.

And so, you swallowed your question about the Vision. “Xiangling wanted me to get a backpack,” you said instead, “for when we gather herbs. Do you think it would be okay if we got one next time, Mr. Zhongli? I promise to pay you back for it when I earn enough Mora.”

“Hansi,” he said, after his usual few seconds of careful studying, and he sounded so concerned that it was almost comical. “Whatever gave you the impression that you would be forced to pay for anything of the sort while living under my roof?” 

—-------------------

Perhaps in a valiant attempt to dissuade you of your sudden preoccupation with paying for things, Zhongli began to shower you with them. The first of the gifts was a beautiful bookmark, a thin piece of metal shaped to look like the Xiao lanterns of the Lantern Rite. It seemed to glow iridescent under lamplight, and you loved it so much that you carried it everywhere you went, the same way you never took off your glaze lily necklace.

Once Zhongli had ascertained that you did not mind gifts, and in fact enjoyed them, the floodgates swung open. Over the next few weeks, he would bring you various small items each time he returned from work or a walk: a Noctilucuous Jade hairpin, a painting of Luhua Pool, a golden gemstone that he called “Prithiva Topaz”, a small and surprisingly heavy pillar-shaped charm which he claimed came from a formidable monster from Guyun Stone Forest—

And on the most barren days, when the bustling markets of Liyue offered nothing that could meet Zhongli’s most particular standards, he would bring home various steamed buns, fresh fruit, and beverages, noting with keen amber eyes which ones were your favorites. Today, he had brought back a pitcher of “the finest gui’hua tea Liyue has to offer”. 

Sitting in a room full of memorabilia that Zhongli had picked out for you, and sipping hot tea that warmed you to your core, you began to understand the feeling of home.

—-

The men were furious. You could feel their blunt rage in the air, tense enough to cut with a blade. If your wrists weren’t tied up, you might have been able to make a run for it. 

“Welcome back. Do you know how much you cost us?” They snarled, one, two, three, four pairs of eyes staring you down. In the back, you could see the man with the scar on his eyebrow, the one who had escorted you to Zhongli. “Are you ready to pay us back?”

“Where is Mr. Zhongli?” You managed to whisper. 

“Don’t you remember? He got tired of you,” they sneered in unison. “Surely you didn’t think someone like you would be enough to satisfy his appetite?” 

Desperately, you shook your head. “He wouldn’t have. What did you do to him?”

One of them stepped forward and slapped you so hard that you briefly see white. “How stupid can you get?” His jaw cracked open into an unnatural, teeth grin, and the others followed suit all at once. “To start to trust, to start to dream ?” 

You tried to back away, but your knees would not move. They were close enough to touch now, and together, like one grotesque entity, they reached out. “You should know better by now. You should know your place .”

Before their melting, festering fingers could touch your skin, you opened your mouth and screamed for Zhongli.

—-------------------

Across the house, Zhongli’s eyes snapped open, casting the room in a golden glow.

It wouldn’t be the last, but that had been the first time you had called him simply by his name.

—-------------------

You woke up to Zhongli calling yours, and couldn’t help the violent flinch that shook your shoulders when you saw him looming over you. The relief you felt at recognizing Zhongli’s silhouette was unimaginable. 

“I heard you calling my name,” Zhongli said, raising both palms in a placating gesture. “Are you alright? Were you having a nightmare?”

Was that all it was; a dream? Your throat was hoarse — the screaming certainly wasn’t dreamed — and your chest raw from the fear and desperation. It felt like your skull was stuffed with cotton. Blindly, you reached out, relief washing away the last vestiges of the social norms instilled within you.

“You didn’t send me back?” You whispered, clutching at any patch of silk and skin you could find. “You didn’t leave?”

“No,” Zhongli met your fingers with his, holding your hand in a firm, gentle grip. He wasn’t wearing gloves, you realized absently. “Never.”

You stayed there for a few long seconds— or was it minutes? “Don’t go,” you begged when he began to pull away. Your eyelids were growing heavy, but the lingering haze of fear had you terrified of going to sleep again. “Please, don’t go.”

You heard the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor. “I’m here, Hansi,” Zhongli said, as you watched him sit down next to your bed. He was still holding your hand. “Get some rest. I will be with you.”

Zhongli’s rich, clear voice resonated through every inch of your body. You trusted him, you realized, letting your eyes shut. You would trust him with every breath of your being.

—-------------------

When you dreamed again, you found yourself in an endless land of clouds. 

Zhongli sat in the midst of it all, eyes closed, unmoving. The soft glow of stars formed a nimbus of gold and dust around his temples. His chest rose and fell gently, and you were certain that you would see no better embodiment of peace for the rest of your life, not even if you lived for a thousand years. 

You wanted to call out to him, but to break the tranquility of the moment seemed unforgivable. 

And so for the rest of the night, you watched him breathe; and you were content.

[bigskydreaming]

I don’t often muse upon PJO, but when I do, its random as hell. 

Anyway, tonight’s thought (singular, also: derogatory, as in very possibly a mistake) is about exploring aspects of the Greek gods that are extrapolations of like, what they’d be like in the modern world instead of just in terms of their ancient myths.....and how that might widen the scope of their demigod children and their powers.

Like take Hephaestus for instance. God of the forge and fire, of invention and artifice......now widen the scope on those things through the lens of the modern age.....might he also be considered the god of modern science, not just in terms of things like engineering and technology, but also physics, chemistry? Or would those things fall more under Athena’s purview......unless you separated them into finer divisions. Like, you could consider Athena’s overview of knowledge and wisdom to make her the goddess of science and higher learning or whatever in general........OR you could separate it like.....Hephaestus is the god of natural or physical sciences like physics and chemistry, and Athena is the goddess of not just wisdom and tactics but things like psychology, computer sciences, etc.

Or OR get Dionysus up in there too, and make it like Hephaestus is the god of chemistry, of chemical reactions and the like, Athena is the goddess of physics, of the most full and complete understanding of the physical universe via things like the unified field theory and its comprising forces of electromagnetism, strong and weak nuclear force, etc, and then Dionysus the god of biology, hmmmm.....

Cuz imagine then, demigod children of Hephaestus, where instead of pyrokinesis, some get powers like transmuting elements.......oh man, the things you could do with that??? Not just lead into gold but they’d be terrors in battle because they could transmute the very air someone breathes into chlorine gas, blood into acid, flesh into stone. Or using that power defensively, making them able to keep guns from firing by dampening the chemical reaction that comes from igniting gunpowder, or just knocking someone out or putting them to sleep by just tanking their metabolic reactions. Mingling magic with modern know-how and creating their own version of truth serums by turning the water someone drinks into something akin to sodium pentathol when just brushing their fingers against someone’s glass, or rendering all drugs or toxins that might have been slipped into their drink null and void by transmuting them into harmless H20. 

(I know that Luke was mentioned briefly as being good at making potions aka alchemy due to being a son of Hermes, but frankly, transmutation as a mastery of the periodic table makes waaaaay more sense for Hephaestus’ kids, I’m just saying. And plus the Greeks didn’t so much consider Hermes an actual god of alchemy as they more just kinda viewed him as their god of all things miscellaneous and tended to lump anything they didn’t have particularly strong feelings about and/or a grasp of under his umbrella. Hermes was really just the patron god of being random as fuck and oh great gods of Olympus I have no idea what I want to do with my life, give me a sign. Hermes: poofs into existence on their shoulder and says SOUNDS LIKE YOU NEED TO GO BE GAY AND DO CRIME YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST, DIVINE MANDATE, LETS GOOOOOOO).

Give children of Athena more practical applications for being heirs to her wisdom, knowledge and strategic acumen by also giving her dominion in the modern age over humanity’s quest to better understand the universe we live in and all its rules, the ins and outs of the laws that govern reality itself.......thus Annabeth and others’ potential acumen for magic being here not the end result of them stepping on Hecate and her kids’ toes, but rather more a function of making them the embodiment of ‘magic is just sufficiently advanced technology’ as they - via an innate and heightened understanding of the very nature of the physical universe - find holes in the fabric of space and time that let them slip from Point A to Point B as easily as crossing the street, play tricks with gravity and relativity and things that leave others baffled and amazed and them just shrugging and being like its all in the wrist, dude, and also, the fact that our mom just GETS reality in a way that everyone else will still be playing catch-up to a thousand years from now.

Children of Dionysus (yes I know he barely has any shhh we’re not paying attention to the series we’re just musing on demigod powers here) who combine the godhood of grapes and revelry with loud music and laughter......the way music can help with plant growth, because music is essentially just VIBRATIONS and vibrations stimulate activity in plant cells in a variety of ways.....and thus similar to Mr. D’s tricks with controlling vines and rapidly growing plants, AND his ability to affect the psyches of others, which is described as inflicting or curing madness and I’m like ehhhh do we have to describe it thus though.....put all that in a pot, shake it, not stir, and abrakadabra, alakazam, other psychic pokemon random Psyduck shout-out and voila! ALL of that could be afixed to and made the end product of godly and demigodly control and manipulation of vibrations, cuz Dionysus is literally the god of just vibing in all its infinite forms.....and thus its all just about how vibrations affect plant life on a cellular level, how they can affect brain chemistry in a variety of ways, triggering a lot of the more primal centers/functions of the brain, etc. You kids are driving me crazy, he’d yell at his demigod kids, and they’re like umm wow, like ACK CHOO UGHLY, father, welcome to the 21st century, all we’re really doing is directly stimulating the prefrontal cortex of your cerebellum with our banging rock music, and its making you angy, what about it?

And speaking of actually, if we and by we I mean me cuz I am and its wheee, are theorizing about Athena’s brood getting to be all magical wunderkind whizkids with their scientific acumen and divine cheat-sheets for the physical universe, maybe Aphrodite and her kids could snatch up those psychology and psychiatry job titles instead. Love, desire, also things like obsession, hyper-fixation......is Cabin Mighty Aphrodite really just pheromone central or are its campers more like magical dopamine and serotonin factories just pumping out good vibes all around them, being like come hang out, its free brain juice. Like, imagine kids of Aphrodite who just by their mere presence could help the legions of ADHD demigods focus better, concentrate easier, get shit done because the goddess of passion and her children like....have the gift of helping people to more productively pursue their passions in ALL forms, not just the physical desires they hold for others but the passions they hold for arts and crafts and sports and y’know, saving the world on magical coming-of-age quests when their milkshakes bring all the monsters to the yard. 

And then Ares not just as a god of war and conflict, but of entropy....the tendency of the universe to trend towards disorder, randomness, uncertainty....the kind of things that so often incite or enflame conflict......but applied at large not just to interpersonal dynamics but to the world itself. With his children possessing demigod abilities that disrupt or weaken bonds, both in the form of emotional ties between allies and commitments towards various ideals or courses of action, but also the ability to PHYSICALLY weaken bonds, resulting in an enemy’s weapon falling apart at a touch, or increasing the instability or volatility of an object so it blows up akin to how Gambit of the X-Men’s powers work and can turn even playing cards into a weapon, etc, etc.

And don’t even get me started on Hermes! No, seriously, don’t. Mostly because I haven’t thought that one through yet and I got nothing. I mean I got some things but they are nebulous and have yet to spring forth fully formed from my head like Athena from the fuckhead of Zeus, that absolute fuckhead of legend and yore. In my defense though, I haven’t like, eaten any primordial goddesses of thought and memory, so.......like, idk, I’m taking the longer route here I guess.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7

- Chapter 8 -

Nie Huaisang was really growing up quite well, in Meng Yao’s opinion.

He’d mostly recovered from the terrible fright of his father’s death, something Nie Mingjue was still struggling with – the blessings of youth, Meng Yao supposed – and he learned every single one of their mother’s tricks as if he were secretly a fox spirit, even if his commitment to saber training was still far from what Nie Mingjue might have hoped. Meng Yao feared what would happen when they unleashed him upon the world in all the best sort of ways.

Meng Shi was better now, too, with Sisi by her side: more human, Meng Yao thought, than she’d been in years. Cruelty had driven her to extremes, and it was easy for her to forget the good things that were so few among the bad, but Sisi had been kind to her when there’d been no reason to be, no advantage, and with her around Meng Yao’s mother regained a little of the joy she’d had when she was younger and still hopeful.

Some people still liked to laugh about her background, to talk about how she had been a prostitute (and worse, Jin Guangshan’s prostitute, one he hadn’t even bothered redeeming when it would have been as easy as flipping over his hand, and that in people’s minds made her his trash), but it didn’t seem to bother her as much anymore, even if it bothered the rest of them.

They each reacted to it in their own way: Nie Mingjue with a snarl and an open threat, Meng Yao with a gentle smile backed up with secret vengeance, and Nie Huaisang…well, Nie Huaisang tended to respond aloud.

“At least she could be bought,” he said to one especially arrogant young master, “unlike your mother, who couldn’t sell herself even if she tried – didn’t she have to pay for her husband?”

“Please stop fantasizing like that,” he told another. “It’s really disturbing to hear you lust after my mother so openly – and she so much older than you. Don’t you have any shame?”

“I never knew you were a spendthrift, daozhang,” he said to a rich old sect leader who’d crudely offered a chest of gold for a night with her. “Imagine, spending all that much money on something that you don’t even have the ability to use – what’s even the point?”

Yes, he was growing up quite well, Meng Yao thought, happy and content, and even Nie Mingjue agreed.

Nie Mingjue was growing into himself as well, still (somehow?!) growing taller as time marched on, taller and broader still until he was a bigger man than even his father had been before him. But more important than his size was how it seemed to settle him into himself, the gawky awkwardness of adolescence fading swiftly in the figure of the man he’d become – the figure of the man he was.

Meng Yao had worried, he wouldn’t lie, about how Nie Mingjue, carefree and free-spirited and easily fooled, would handle becoming sect leader, but in the end his worries were for nothing. Nie Mingjue was a good sect leader, just as he was a good man: principled and righteous, thoughtful yet resolute, and surprisingly discerning for someone who still believed Meng Yao without question even after having seen what he did to people who underestimated him.

Though perhaps that was only because it was Meng Yao, who he trusted.

Nie Mingjue was brutally fair, never valued birth over merit, and was as exacting and just as could be hoped for – though Meng Yao liked to think that he and Nie Huaisang were the one glaring blind spot in Nie Mingjue’s harsh rules of righteousness. No matter how strict he was with others, he always spoiled them.

Indeed, spoiling them could be said to be his only hobby.

His father’s murder and eventual death had crushed the more frivolous parts out of him, and the burdens of being sect leader threatened to do the rest – Meng Yao and Nie Huaisang had had to conspire, with great difficulty, to force him to take some time out of his day to continue learning how to forge spiritual weapons, or to paint something other than talisman arrays and battlefield maps, or sometimes even, rarest of all and only on special occasions, to dance in that strange, almost hypnotic way he said was his mother’s.

Nie Mingjue had that classic Nie temper, of course, and he was prone to over-hasty judgments when that temper was roused, most especially when he felt he had been betrayed, but he was also capable of controlling it despite himself, something Lao Nie had struggled with; he was more aware of the consequences of his actions.

Maybe that’s why it came as such as surprise when he nearly destroyed their alliance with the Jin sect over mere words.

It was Meng Yao’s first Discussion Conference that he attended at Nie Mingjue’s side as his advisor, and that had been the problem. Jin Guangshan could just barely resist commenting on Meng Shi when she wasn’t around; with Meng Yao put front and center before him, he hadn’t quite managed to refrain from saying something.

Meng Yao had expected that.

He’d composed himself ahead of time, recited some of the worst things he could think of that could be said; what his father came up with by comparison was positively mild, merely some comment about being surprised that the Nie sect allowed someone like Meng Yao into good company being what he was, and it rolled off his shoulders like water off a duck’s feathers. He could lower his head and let it pass, so as to avoid making himself any more of a burden for his sect than he already was.

He’d somehow forgotten to account for Nie Mingjue’s temper.

He didn’t pull out Baxia, though Meng Yao might have wished he would have – that might have been forgiven in time. Instead, reaching for his tea, he’d only said, as casual as if he were remarking on the weather, “Yes, Meng Yao’s parentage is rather unfortunate, but luckily his mother’s traits dominated.”

Jin Guangshan choked – everyone knew who Meng Yao’s father was, after all – and in that moment of silent stewing rage, Nie Mingjue added, his tone musing, “Perhaps that was why she didn’t get along with my father that well. He could never tolerate being stepped on by anyone.”

Some unfortunate in one of the smaller sects sniggered, perhaps thinking of how clearly Nie Huaisang’s features echoed his brother’s even if they were writ on a smaller and more graceful frame, while Meng Yao’s face could only be considered in very broad strokes to be his father’s, and while they were silenced when Jin Guangshan turned to glare, the damage was done.

(Nie Huaisang had been there, sitting around and looking bored; afterwards, he’d made excuses to leave, and Meng Yao would bet serious money that half the rumors that sprung up afterwards about Jin Guangshan being unable to get it up unless he was being humiliated in bed were from his somehow impossibly dirty-minded little brother. Where he’d even gotten the idea about the one with the shoes, Meng Yao couldn’t even begin to guess…he grew up in a brothel, damnit; a spoiled young master should not have the ability to make him blush for shame!)

“You didn’t have to do that,” Meng Yao scolded him lightly, later. “You know I prefer to be underestimated.”

Nie Mingjue huffed. “I don’t interfere with your business,” he said, and most of the time he didn’t. “Father always said that if people talk about you, it’s your job to do so well that they have nothing to say, and I suppose that must be true –”

It wasn’t, but it was nice enough that Nie Mingjue really thought so that Meng Yao wasn’t going to spoil it for him.

“– but anyway you can’t expect me to leave off when he says something that can be construed as an insult to Huaisang.”

Meng Yao blinked. “To Huaisang? He was talking about me.”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “Meng Yao, you’re brilliant, competent and capable; you would be a shining star in any sect you chose to join. You’re so surpassingly talented that the only negative thing people can think to say about you is that you’re the son of a whore – and what does that make Huaisang?”

A recognized son of a sect leader who wanted him, Meng Yao thought, but oh, Nie Mingjue did make it hard to remain bitter. If they’d met too late, as adults, the Nie Mingjue who only survived his father’s death by shutting down so much of himself would never have presumed to say such things to him – he probably would have thought it, but he would have kept it locked inside, oyster-tight, the way he did most things these days – but Meng Yao had gotten to him early enough that there wasn’t any point in trying to keep things back; they’d long ago passed the point of etiquette.

“I appreciate your defense nonetheless,” Meng Yao said with a faint smile. “And the compliments as well – I always like to be complimented.”

“Forget compliments,” Nie Mingjue said. “Wait for the poaching.”

Meng Yao laughed, but in the end he was the one surprised: a number of sect leaders threw out hooks in his direction, incorrectly thinking that Nie Mingjue’s statement had put Meng Yao down, and most surprising of all was the pointedly casual conversation that a pair of Jin sect retainers had within hearing distance of him, clearly meant to be overheard, that suggested that an application to switch sects might not be met with such a cold reception as he would have otherwise have thought.

How he would be treated once in the sect would be a different matter, of course, but no matter how bad an idea it probably was, Meng Yao couldn’t quite help daydreaming about how it might go.

He’d never be the Jin sect heir, of course – though if he was legitimized, he supposed there was only Jin Zixuan and maybe Jin Zixun between him and the position. Even without that, though, he could shine bright enough to catch everyone’s eye, the way Nie Mingjue had said he could; he could show them all how good he was. He could make Jin Guangshan regret not having taken his mother out of that brothel, not having brought her home as a concubine, not having raised him as his own –

He could have all of Lanling Jin at his fingertips.

Then they got word that Meng Shi had fallen ill, a letter passed in by messenger, and Nie Mingjue immediately started wrapping up his business, giving orders that they would leave by sundown without even considering that finishing up the odds and ends of sect business might be more important than going to sit by the bedside of his father’s concubine, a former prostitute, a woman he had little enough reason to honor.

Meng Yao remembered that all the gold in Lanling was only a façade over their rotten hearts, and that the approval of his father was nothing to him over the well-being of his mother.

(He might have been more insistent if she had died in that brothel, he thought. It was not so hard to become fixated on power and glory when you had none, to feel it was something owed to you, to her, and to see it as a need when it was only a want – but she hadn’t, and he didn’t, and Jin Guangshan with all his riches had done less for them when they needed him than Nie Mingjue had when all he’d had was the trinkets on his body and a fierce determination that his younger brother should be born at home.)

Of course, there was one offer he couldn’t turn down.

Wen Ruohan made an effort to be subtle about it, Meng Yao would give him that much – one couldn’t deny the man was smart, smart and powerful and very good at getting even more powerful, with his only stumbling block being the fact that he was also conceited and thought that no one was as smart as he was.

A meeting was orchestrated to appear as though an accident, a few words exchanged –

Meng Yao smiled at him, letting his eyes show the warmth of future revenge, and Wen Ruohan left, satisfied that Meng Yao secretly wanted dominion but felt it was impossible with how he was situated: neither a true son of Qinghe nor a recognized son of Lanling. A perfect tool, easily understood, and with a convenient lure that was perfectly in line with Wen Ruohan’s own plans for conquering…

Everything was so going well.

Clearly disaster was about to strike, Meng Yao thought gloomily, and braced himself.

And yet, somehow – it didn’t.

Nothing happened except more of the same: Nie Mingjue’s reputation growing in leaps and bounds, winning him the title of Chifeng-zun, and Meng Yao was the shining star by his side, reputed to be clever and talented and behind many of the Nie sect’s political coups. The Wen sect made only small moves, their arrogance growing but only slowly, and despite the anticipation of war in the future, in that blissful window of peace, they were able to watch Nie Huaisang grow up.

Maybe, Meng Yao thought, looking at Nie Huaisang lazing around in the shade shouting encouragement at the men training rather than joining in himself, maybe the world didn’t need two monsters like him.

Maybe he could do it all himself.