#covenant wraith

[wh40kartwork]

Dark Eldar

by Mariusz Gandzel

[usstrekart]

In "Covenant" (S07E09, Stardate UNKNOWN) we get Empok Nor, Dukat, Bajoran Spirituality and a whole lot of exploration of matters of faith, belief and what makes people follow who and what they do. It remains a unique - and frightening - window into our lives today as it was 30 years ago.

My episode poster features what appeared to be the logo of the cult of the pah wraiths.

[halopedia]

Lore Thursday — Fuel rod cannon

The vehicle-mounted fuel rod cannon fires Class-3 fuel rods that can track heat signatures, which is a characteristic not displayed by the Class-2 counterparts typically loaded in the infantry-portable fuel rod gun.

Several variants exist within the fuel rod cannon classification and they are mounted on a variety of vehicles. Banshees employ a single forward-firing, semi-automatic cannon, while the anti-aircraft Wraith employs triple-rack rapid-fire cannons that fire a barrage of fuel rods.

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader

You were not expecting anything from this new placement. You knew better now a days, have been on the system since day 1, and at this point? You know better than to hope.

Usually the houses you ended up in were all mediocre at best. Foster parents that already had their own children were the most neglectful homes, even to their own children. Which also resulted in bad blood between the foster kids and the biological kids.

And worst of all, you were human. Just a simple, small, defenseless human stuck in the foster system. Usually, they try to match human kids with human foster parents. But, humans were not a big part of the population, in fact, different kind of hybrids were the biggest part of the population.

And now, failed attempts after failed attempts, you got transfered to a neighbor city (not for the first time), and this time, to a hybrid pack househood. It wasn't your first time with hybrids, but it was always a little scary. They were strangers, and adult hybrids were SO much bigger than humans. Especially a human your age, with your small size thanks to lack of care throughout the years.

Hybrids were bigger, stronger, scarier... still, you knew it couldn't be worse than some houses you have been in before, or at least, that's what you're telling yourself. Not that your social worker was helping with your anxiety, as the old bear hybrid woman gave you some information about your new foster family. They were a big pack, which was a concept you already had difficulty to grasp. Pack doesn't always mean the nuclear family, but could also mean family friends, or sometimes, just relatives. As a human, hearing the word "pack", or "hoard", or "coven", or whatever else they could use to name their little groups, always left you a little confused.

They were four hybrid parents, a Dragon, a Werewolf, a Harpy and a Wraith. They were all part of the military, special forces or something, and they had a lot of children already, children that were already adults and had moved out some time ago. They were taking fosters now, and accordingly to your social worker, they were delightful and very nurturing parents.

You don't know what to think of that.

So all you could do was hold tightly to your beated backpack straps as your social worker excitedly introduced you to four hybrid men in their big house, giant hybrid men with so many muscles, and why is everyone so big and buff?? You knew they were military before, but god dammit, they could crush you with one hand. Here to hoping you don't annoy them to that point.

You weren't really making eye contact, keeping your eyes to the ground as you heard your social worker talk to the new fosters, but still, you would peak at them every couple of seconds or so, just to assess how they were reacting to your presence.

The dragon, one of the biggest hybrids you have ever seen, had that kinda of... respectful and mature face, smart eyes that went between you and the social worker as he nodded along to what she was saying. He was standing still, arms crossed lightly, and just one big wing carefully drapped behind his back. He smiled lightly, trying to keep casual and confortable to the new people, avoiding staring at you too much, no matter how much he wanted to.

The harpy, that was standing by the dragon's side, had such a gentle smile on his face that you avoided looking at his face again after the first peak. Gentle eyes, gentle smile, gentle demeanour. His giant, featherly wings, were also carefully tucked behind his back, almost as if to make himself smaller. Tho, it didn't help your anxiety as you saw how his feet looked like... not feet, in fact, talons.

The werewolf, a weird guy with a mohawk for christ sake, didn't even try to hide it how much he was staring. Big eyes on top of you, tail wagging a bit too fast behind him as his wolf ears perked up and moved as the social worker talked. Still, his eyes were just on you, assessing your small and timid demeanour, how truly small a human could be, how defenseless you looked.

The wraith wasn't that different either. Staring at your face with a stoic and passive look, even tho a balaclava with some skull prints covered most of his face besides the eyes, that had some... shadowy thing around them. He was the biggest, looked bigger and buffer than the dragon, at least, and was also staring directly at you. He almost forgot how pathetic humans could be.

All of them were caught a little of guard, actually.

You were small, already small for a human, but for hybrids? Almost like a little kid. Humans rarely build much muscle throughout their teens too, so you looked like a skinny little thing, differently from how other races' kids worked. You looked like a small, young child, but even their little kids had some kind of protection. Sharp teeths, or shap claws, or sharp talons, or any kind of ability that could defend themselves.

You had nothing of the sort. You didn't have any nails, basically, short as they were in a small and delicate little hand. Feet tucked safely inside your round little sneakers, feet that, of course, wouldn't have any talons, and were delicate enough to have to stay protected by shoes. Your teeth were round and flat, looked so small too, just like your short tongue. You were soft, all soft and small and delicate. Just like a human is compared to hybrids.

Johnny had to control himself not to coo at the sight as you gently licked your uper lip and quietly fidget in place, slightly behind the big bear hybrid that was your social worker. They had a lot of kids, and he was there since all of them were a baby, but since they were all hybrids, seeing a small little thing like you, unprotected and without any kind of abilities... it made something stirr inside of him.

All of the others were in the same boat, to be fair. Parental instincts going into high overdrive just by looking at you. John was just trying his best to pretend he wasn't that effected since he still needed to pay attention to the social worker, and Kyle was making a good job of discreetly nudging Johnny and Simon so they could stop staring so hard at you.

"So, if any trouble arises, you can always call me. Even if it's just questions, anything you might be worried about, i'll help you out. Is that okay?" "Perfectly fine, ma'am." The dragon immediatly answers, smiling neutrally as he nods.

"Yeah, this isn't our first time doing this." The harpy jokes slightly, charming smile on his face as he makes your social worker laugh a little bit with him.

"I know it isn't, boys, but it is your first time taking care of a human." She points out, a small smile on her face despite the serious tone. "They are not the same as hybrids, you know that."

"Of course. We're going to be very careful with them, don't worry." The dragon immediatly goes to sooth her worries, nodding easily.

"As i hope. Please, call me if you need anything! And, good luck, boys!"

Now, it's just you and your four new foster parents.

[beansprean]

😯😧😨😰

My Familiar’s Ghost part 43

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Mottled green background; Laszlo's hand pops into frame from the bottom, holding a corded phone receiver. He calls, 'Little wraith! Lilith on the telephone!' Ghost Guillermo flies in sharply from the opposite side, reaching out to snatch the phone with an irritated expression. He snaps, 'Don't call me that.' The wraith energy around him is still amorphous and in pieces, but has formed into a definite hood and cape. 1b. Split panel, close up on Guillermo on a green background on the left and Lilith on a purple background on the right. Guillermo holds the phone to his ear with a smile, anxious but eager, and says 'Lilith! Did you find out anything?' Lilith is dressed down in a grey tee shirt over a black lace camisole with a gold chain necklace and some silver rings, hair piled into a messy bun on top of her head. Her hands are busy with something below screen, pink smartphone wedged between her ear and shoulder. She grins smugly and replies, 'You bet your cute little bum I did! And it's just as I told you - self inflicted!' 1c. Repeat. Guillermo frowns, brow furrowing in confusion, and says 'Huh? But I didn't-' Lilith interrupts him, still grinning and aiming a wink at the phone, 'You didn't, but your great great great grandpappy sure did.' She gestures with her right hand which holds a rubber spatula dripping with some kind of neon green slime. 1d. Repeat. Guillermo's frown deepens, a growing anxiety forming lines between his brows. He squeaks out, 'He-what?' Lilith raises a brow with a frown and explains, 'Beautiful work by a sister coven in the Netherlands - good for 10, 15 generations, I'd say. Now what was that wording she used...' She straightens her head, now holding her phone with her left hand and leans over to rummage offscreen with her right. 1e. The area outside the panels fades from white to a muted brown as we switch the scene back to Nandor at Panera. Close up of Nandor's hand pushing the head of the dead vampire in the 70s gear that was slumped near the door with two fingers, exposing his throat. He has been bitten messily once or twice, blood dried in streams dripping down to his collar. There is a stake sticking out of the center of his chest. Nandor notes aloud, 'Not drained, just...sipped. And killed. 1f. Zoom out as Nandor stands and turns to survey the rest of the room nervously, the dead vampire slumping over behind him. Nandor twiddles his fingers together and says to himself, 'Yeesh, Guillermo, always with the slaying, even now...'

2a. The area outside the panels continues to darken as it goes down. Close up of Lilith, purple background darkened as a shadow falls over her face. She is holding her phone to her ear with her left hand and holding up a yellow post-it note with her right, stuck to the tips of her fingers. She reads out, 'Should blood be supped / and end thy life / your body lay not still- / a slayer wakes to turn the knife...' 2b. Close up of Guillermo as Lilith reads out the last line: '...and succumb to slayer's will.' Guillermo's eyes widen with horror, mouth slack with shock. The background turns to mottled reds and oranges, his wraith cloak flaring out in terrified spikes around him, and the phone receiver falls from his frozen hand as it loses corporeality. 2c. Zoom out to a green background and wooden floor, the rotary phone placed on a small side table. The receiver clatters to the floor as Guillermo retreats to a glowing blue vapor and voops out of view. Lilith's voice continues from the phone, 'And then something about an unstoppable vampire-killing frenzy. She couldn't figure out how to rhyme that bit in English.' 2d. Back to Panera, the area outside the panels now nearly black. Close up of Nandor in the foreground facing the viewer, having walked further into the room. He is grimacing down at the next vampire corpse he is examining. The blood-smeared cabinets and open doorway are visible behind him. In the doorway, the silhouette of a short round figure has appeared silently, orange eyes glowing from the darkness, narrowed into slits. Lilith's voice continues from the phone from the previous panel: 'Hello? Memo? Hello?' /end ID

[atari-phantom]

This would also be the time to mention that the ONLY reason that was done is because they challenged me to get four moris on Wraith using only Thwack. The "best" killer perk in the game.

I did it, too, funny enough. But now I'll never hear the end of it.

I love having a special interest in Dead by Daylight, and a friend who plays the game with me and comes up with stupid bs with me.

For a long time now, we've been calling the Dredge a turkey, alongside some other fun names.

So... now my brain automatically associates the Dredge with turkey. Sometimes, autocorrecting it.

Yeah, so I brought a turkey sandwich to work today, and almost looked at my coworker and said "Wow, this Dredge sandwich is really good." Not even thinking.

Dredge. Sandwich. It's fucking turkey.

@bacondaddy

[littlebluespoon]

Choices

Werewolf!Soap is here! Apologies for how long it took, I couldn't figure out how to end it.

2K words, tw: werewolves, cheesy romance books, chasing, kinda kidnapping, scaring, if there's any you think I've missed let me know

Look, I'm Scottish and I hate writing Scots and the accent, so you're just gonna have tae deal wi' it awright? 😅

There might eventually be a part 2, depends on if y'all like this part

You couldn’t believe your luck when you found the rental listing. A two bedroom, guest house on 4 acres of land in the middle of the countryside. Your only neighbour being your landlord who lives in the main house but was away on deployment most of the year. It was like a dream come true for you. Plenty of privacy and space for you to write, beautiful views of the loch and there was even enough space for you to finally have an office space. The best part about it all though was your landlord, Johnny. When you first saw him you were scared, this massive hulking guy in the middle of nowhere and you. He made you feel small, and he had this aura around him, something you couldn’t quite understand but it made the hairs on your arms stand up. When you learned he was military, you figured that was it but the feeling never quite went away completely. He showed you around the place and the more you talked, the more he cracked jokes, the more you got to know him, the more charmed you were by him. Before the tour was even over you were asking him when you could move in. It was a dream come true for you and it was even better when Johnny was home. 

The house always seemed to wait for him to come back to break but that was alright with you, it meant you got to see him under your cupboards and up ladders fixing whatever went wrong. It certainly gave you plenty of material to write about. In the eight months you’d lived with Johnny you hadn’t stopped writing. Your publisher was ecstatic because you were churning out best seller after best seller all with Johnny as your muse. Seeing as you were using a pseudonym you were careful with the details you used to describe Johnny as well, knowing that he could be followed back to you but this time you just couldn’t help yourself. Your bestselling books were dark romances and taboo themes but your new one was your first about supernatural creatures. 

‘Loosely inspired by every vampire romance out there; Stain the head vampire of his coven seeks a mate. One day he comes across a young female who’s just perfect for him. But she’s not charmed by his rugged mohawk or his deep Scottish brogue. Just how will Stain win over his bonnie lass?’

The dark erotic scenes and the cliff-hanger ending almost guaranteed that it would be another best seller for S.P. Wraith. But what really sold the book was the concept art for Stain, you’d commissioned an artist and you had them draw a likeness as close to Johnny as you dared. Within weeks of publishing you had a contract for a series of books and art of Stain was everywhere.

___

“Hey sergeant! You got a modelling gig we don’t know about?” 

“Soap! Show us yer fangs!”

“Let’s see you sparkle Sergeant!”

Soap was confused and starting to get a little annoyed at all the comments the recruits had been shouting at him. He was used to banter and camaraderie between everyone but this felt almost mocking. As he walked into the 141’s meeting he noticed Gaz was waving a book around and reading from it aloud,

“’You don’t like my mohawk?’ Stain said, shocked at the admission from his little pet. ‘Why I thought it complimented my roguishness and charming smile’ he went on to sa.. Soap!” Noticing Soap’s entry Gaz struggled to hold in a laugh as Price looked at him in disappointment,

“You know son, if we’re not paying you enough I’m sure there’s other options before whatever this was,” Price says waving a hand towards the book but Soap knows he really wants to say ‘What the fuck Soap?’

“I didnae do it! I don’t even know what ye’s are talkin’ ‘bout!” Soap tries to defend himself while grabbing the book and reading the cover: ‘The Life of Stain, Volume 1; A Beating Heart by S.P Wraith’ and staring back at him was a drawing of his face, right down to the scars from his first transformation. Before Soap can respond Price takes pity on him and starts their meeting, the bear shifter easily grabbing the attention of the other team members.

Soap finished the book in record time, in fact it takes him longer to work out who had written it and once he does he kicks himself a little because it should have been obvious. His sweet little tenant who can’t keep their eyes off his arse whenever he’s over fixing up the guest house for you. For the rest of his deployment he can’t stop thinking about you. What he’d do to you, how you’d look wrapped up, naked in his sheets, covered in his marks, completely his. So he fantasises, he reads as much of your writing as he can get his hands on because it’s obvious to him that you’re writing out your own fantasies, waiting for someone, him, to come along and make them real. By the time he’s heading home he has a plan for how to make you his.

___

You’re cleaning your kitchen when you see his car drive up the long path between both your houses. Freezing behind your window, as if that would stop him noticing you, you watch as he hauls his bags out the boot and ambles his way through his front door. You don’t move until even his shadow is gone from your sight and once it is the only thing on your mind is dinner. 

It’s tradition now, the first night Johnny’s back from deployment you make dinner for both of you and carry it over to his house. It started after you realised he never had any food in the nights he comes back because he’s never sure if or when he’ll get back so you made it your mission to welcome him home with a good meal and if it let you be in his company for a while, well that was just a bonus. Tonight you made a spaghetti bolognaise, quick but tasty and headed over. Like every other night, you ate together, chatted long into the early hours and watched as he slowly relaxed his posture and got used to being home again. When it came time for you to head to bed he watches you go and says goodbye with a 

“I’ll be over in the morn’ to check that gutterin’ o’ yours,” 

It’s the hammering that wakes you the next morning, taking two cups of coffee out to the front you find him just finishing up,

‘Early start Johnny?” you ask, handing him the cup and giving him a once over.

“Aye, can’t sleep in even if I tried,” he gives you a nod in thanks for the coffee and continues, “Well, that’s yer gutterin’ fixed at least, Wraith” You watch the smirk on his face grow at the same rate your confusion does,

“Wraith? Is that some new nick…” Your face drops in horror and you pale, “you know?” His smirk turns into a full on belly laugh at the expression on your face,

“Did ye really ‘hink I’d never find oot?” He takes the cup out your hand and crowds you into the wall, “Ya know, lass, if you wanted some monster inspiration all ye had tae do was ask. I only bite sometimes.” With your back against the wall and his hand sliding up your neck, holding you in place, you’re transfixed as you watch his canines lengthen before his face changes shape and ears sprout from his head, 

“Ye git thirty seconds tae run lass,” a voice growls out, it could only be him but it doesn’t sound like the charming Scottish accent you’ve come to love.

His hands drop and he steps away so you can see everything. The tail, his clothes being ripped, the giant paws for hands, “30, 29, 28… run!” the screeching is what gets you moving as you bolt towards the forest in your back garden. You can still hear him counting as you dart between the trees and jump over logs, not daring to look back because you know that’s how you’ll fall. Catching glimpses of a shadow in your peripheral vision you decide your best action is to climb, aiming for the first tree you can feasible climb quickly you do so. Hauling yourself up into the branches and trying to remain as quiet as possible with a hand over your mouth to quiet your heavy, panicked breathing.

The panicked breathing turns into full on sobs when you hear a loud howl, there are no wolves in this part of the country, no normal wolves that is. Hearing the sound of branches being snapped, you freeze in your hiding spot praying that he can’t see you but Johnny’s a werewolf, he’s never needed to see to know where you are. All you can do is sit there and watch as a giant, black wolf stalks around the base of the tree sniffing at the ground. The wolf circles the tree a few times before settling down at the base of it and looks directly up at you. It’s eyes, you notice, are oddly human. They’re still Johnny’s eyes.

For hours the two of you exist in this silent standoff. It’s not until the sun begins to set and the cold begins to make itself known that a move is made,

“Come oan lass, give it up. I dinnae want to drag you out the tree” Jolting awake at his voice your fear returns, “Lass, get down now.” There’s a bite to his words now, a command that you’re sure he uses on recruits, and it would have worked on you had your limbs not been frozen with fear.

‘Fine, dinnae say ye weren’t warned,” is the last thing he says to you before he walks away.

You’re shocked at this turn but you take the opportunity. Once you can’t hear him anymore you scramble out the tree and make a dash for your home. If you can just get to your car. Get to the car. Car. It’s all that’s on your mind, your car is synonymous with safety now. But you barely make it three feet from the tree when the wolf returns. With a single pounce, you’re face down in the dirt, the wolf is on your back and the growling in your ear causes you to pass out in fear.

___

It's the heat that wakes you up eventually, smothering like a weighted electric blanket. Completely unaware of where you are you go to try and take your pyjamas off only to find a furry weight pinning you down. It’s the fur that brings your memories back, Johnny knows about your writing, Johnny who turned into a wolf in front of you, Johnny who chased you through the woods. It startles you into alertness and you open your eyes to find a sleeping wolf on top of you.

Moving slower than a snail and as smoothly as you could manage with the full body shakes you’re battling, you manage to slide out from under him. Finding the door you get to it on shaky legs and are, reaching for the handle when a growl makes you freeze. You can hear his claws as they scrape across the ground, feel his teeth as he snags your shirt in them and his arms around your waist as he pulls your back against his chest,

“Yer no goin’ anywhere sweetheart. I’m no lettin’ ye” Johnny buries his face in your neck as he talks, muffling his last words.

“Johnny, I’m sorry. Okay, I’ll give you the money from the book, whatever you want,” you can’t decide whether to pull at his hands or push at his face, “I’ll find somewhere else to rent,” it’s something you’d hate to do but right now your life is more important.

“Leave? Lass, I ‘hink you’ve got the wrang end o’ the stick. Ah dinnae want ye tae leave, in fact imma gie ye a choice,” he pulls away from you, pushing you back against the door and caging you in between his arms, “I’ll even gie ye some time to ‘hink aboot it, awright. Ye can be my wife, and live happily with ev’ryhing ye ever want… or ye can be my pet, and this room will be the only thing ye ever see again.” The kiss that comes is surprising and gentle. He leaves you in a state of shock for a few seconds before grabbing a handful of your hair and dragging you across the room, “Just a little preview o’ yer options. Have a ‘hink, I’ll be back later sweetheart.” You’re too shocked to hear the door but what you do hear are the locks, three of them that signal no way out for you. All that’s left for you to do is sit in the dark and make your choice.

___

What will your choice be?

___

[cobalt-owl]

So if you've been following me for a while you'll know that I've been wanting to make a warhammer 40k army but with Halo Covenant models as a proxy. I was originally wanting to make them a proxy of the T'au but I found issues with figuring out Drone tokens, base sizes (specifically for elites), and invuln saves for things like shield Jackals. Well I'm happy to announce that I finally found a faction due to a new release in rules including rules that allow Imperium factions to bring deathwatch space marines. And here is my choice in faction shown by the Combat Patrol.

I chose the Adeptus mechanicus as, while there are some issues (not restricted to but including struggling to pick if Skitarii Vanguard or Rangers should be the Jackals since they both have a 5+ invuln), they by far have the best array and arguably fitting themes around them. I have a full 1500 point list that involves a deathwatch squad of elites, skorpius disintigrators as wraiths, Kastelan Robots as hunters, etc. Also I apologize for the shit photoshop

[nocifer]

Lore Dump the Third: The Origins of Witchcraft

Chaos lies in all things, it is ephemerality, energy, being. All things change, sometimes so imperceptibly that it seems as if everything is still. The life of a mortal being is chaos in its purest form, transience, evolution, movement. Beyond death and through the mortal coil, in all things, over and over again, without end.

Everything changes, everything except... nothing. The absence, the void, nonexistence. Everything changes, but never darkness, never emptiness, always the same, as it always was. Is it not comforting to know at least... something will never change? Is there anything more absolute, anything more worth giving in to?

In the eternal. In the infinite. In Nihil. The first and final curse of the universe unto itself. A solution to chaos.

The first curse, for the first witches.

Old History:

From the age of ruin and through every age after, no matter how far back one casts their gaze, should they look carefully, they would notice the faint shadow of witchcraft.

The Harbingers of the first ages have often been seen as the precursors of black magic, the true heirs of the dark arts. Yet it always seems as if the elusive witches are more ancient still.

Yet there was one among all others, that history remembers as the first witch. The mother of all witches, the seedbed of curses, the mistress of darkness and the first of Hexweaver witches. Cereza, the first witch.

Once known only as a companion of the hero Radamanthe, he who led the armies of the living against the Wraith King. Yet it was her who slew the undead king, her who pried open the gates of the abyss and cast the old shade unto the void, never to return.

She who slew the Holy King Radamanthe, betraying her own lover, and became the infamous Witch Queen of Avalon, before being defeated and cast down by the Archwizard Grey and Radamanthe's loyal paladins.

Though she faded into the shadows, never to be seen again, her legacy would remain. She taught her craft far and wide to all who shared her desire to delve into the depths of magic, and her students scattered to the wind with her defeat, hunted and reviled, but unbroken.

Yet time comes for all of us, and the remaining children of Cereza found their paths straying from each other, splintering into their own factions. So were born the witch covens.

Covens:

A witch coven in essence is nothing more than a gathering of witches brought together through common goals, ideals or beliefs.

Witches are used to the scrutiny, distrust or outright fear they inspire, and so do they understand just how isolated, how vulnerable they would be should they face the world alone. Covens were the solution. A network of like-minded witches, augmenting their power, their reach, their knowledge... assistance, protection, teaching, the covens allowed witches to flourish like never before. And made them all the more terrifying for it.

Many covens also use the concept of triads, three witches joined through bloodbound oath, sworn to protect and aid each other no matter what, shielding against the inherent treachery and cunning of practitioners of the dark arts.

Though throughout history the vast majority of witches have been human women, anyone may become a witch, and few care to uphold this so-called "tradition" at all except for the most conservative covens. The majority of covens readily accept men and other species among their ranks.

It also happens that witches of different covens move between them, though many covens are dedicated to particular profiles and goals they certainly would hesitate to turn their back on a fully trained witch, or even a competent apprentice. Many covens are far more diverse than they appear on the surface.

There are covens of all sizes, some overwhelmingly powerful, others completely insignificant. These are but a handful of them:

The Daughters of Cereza: One of the largest and easily the most dangerous coven. True believers in the cause of the great witch Cereza, they consider themselves her only true heirs, the only remaining witches still loyal to her and her ideals. They are by far the most conservative coven but also the most actively malignant, no other coven wages bloody goethic war against their own than the daughters of Cereza.

The Raven's Answers: The Raven-of-Ways' followers are as enigmatic as the culprit itself. The Answers are all too fond of gleaning secrets, and make extensive use of phasmiurgy among the Raven's various boons.

The Locksmiths of Infinity: A peculiar gathering of witches dedicated to uncovering the ways of the Black Gate and other such aspects, eager to explore reaches of the void that none other have. They are masters of pathways, and eager to throw themselves at any and all obstacles.

Evil Eye's Bloody Hags: Some of the Raven Queen's favored children. The Hags embody the violent and vengeful nature of the queen, they may be the most aggressive coven against the enemies of witches and pursue reckoning with reckless abandon. They are known for their particularly vicious use of the more physical aspects of Sarkothurgy.

Initiation:

There are a few ways to become a witch, each coven has its own rule concerning what kind of apprentice they are willing to take on, but though it's very useful, being recognized by a coven isn't strictly necessary so long as you are able to claim the title.

Apprenticeship is a very important part of witchcraft, and though it's possible to be self-taught it's a difficult path that would test one's determination at every turn.

Usually, another witch will claim you as their apprentice if you desire to be taught and are found worthy. Every witch would have their own ways to teach you, but unless you have magical capabilities of your own, she will also arrange a pact for you, negotiating the terms in your stead for an entity to pass on a fraction of their power to you, until your own grow strong enough to thrive without their help.

If no witch claims mentorship of you, it is possible to seek a mentor in a demon or fae, who are often more than willing to make a pact of mentorship and pass on some of their powers to you, in exchange for your service.

Once you are ready, a trial will usually be arranged by your coven, triumph over which will earn you the title of witch and the recognition of your peers.

Witchcraft:

To call Witchcraft a discipline is a disservice to just how dedicated witches have been to the study of many forms of black magic and even more conventional magic as well. Witches have been known to practice Hexcraft, Curseweaving, Sarkothurgy, Demonology, Phasmiurgy, Necromancy, and most of all things forbidden.

Above all witches are pioneers, in the same ways as a wizard may be. They seek to tread paths uncharted and uncover secrets hidden in darkness, at the core of every witch's goals is usually the accomplishment of a great work.

The ways of Goethy are too many to list, but some notable examples are:

Hexcraft: Hexes are often known as lesser curses, a discredit to their power and usefulness. A hex can take many forms, but it tends to share the strange but inescapable nature of a curse. They come in various forms, some of them merely hindering, others outright deadly, but they usually center around fulfilling certain conditions to unleash devastating consequences on one's enemies.

Curseweaving: Curses may be the essence of witchcraft itself, they are absolute, inevitable, in ways only spells of such a nature may be. Curses are difficult to use, often requiring many conditions to cast upon their enemies. But once cast, it will stop at nothing to fulfill its purpose, it cannot be escaped, it cannot be dispelled, save for a very particular way. They are rightfully feared by all, and one who masters curses is one that should never be crossed.

Sarkothurgy: The magic of blood, flesh and bones, beloved of many witches for its incredible powers. Capable both of manipulating the body of others to heal or inflict harm, or a witch's own to enhance it, Sarkothurgy is a complex, and incredibly painful, discipline to master, but should one have what it takes, the could become nearly immortal and have complete mastery of their form.

Demonology: The study of the infernal plane and its denizens as long been a staple of witchcraft, the summoning and contracting of demons is so essential that few witches go without at least basic knowledge of demonology. Those who focus on the discipline could even have powerful archdemons at their beck and call.

Phasmiurgy: Though not outright goethy, Phasmiurgy is of great interest to many witches both for its powers of illusion and divination. A witch who focuses on Phasmiurgy would be a terrifying foe capable of divining and altering infinite pathways of the future.

Necromancy: Necromancers are beasts of their own, but it remains a discipline of Goethy, and many witches are quite adept. Necromancy is the magic of death and souls, reanimation, communication with the dead, withering, transference of life, the applications are myriad and some witches would not hesitate to make it their main source of power.

Aspects:

These old beings the witches commune with are varied in nature, and said nature is often difficult to parse, but they are fierce allies of witches and easily willing to part with powers for witches they are pleased with.

Cronemother: Possibly the most personable aspect, and the most mysterious. Cronemother as been likened to an aspect, a spirit, a fae, even to a primordial goddess, but no one can truly pretend to know the nature of this old monster. She presents herself to witches as an aspect of wisdom, power, bonds and teaching, she loves all witches but she is an elusive being whose motives are difficult to discern. For your path to come across her wandering abode is a chance no witch should ever squander. Her boons often come in the ways of sound advice.

The Red Grail: One of the most infamous aspect, its domains are life, renewal, sacrifice and rebirth. It takes the form of a black chalice, its base a tangle of roots and its cup constantly runneth over with a spill of blood. It is known as the foremost patron in the ways of sarkothurgy.

The Black Gate: An aspect of thresholds, transition, pathways, obstacles and trials. It often appears as a towering black gate, devoid of locks, impassable, all witches are confronted with the gate, at least once in their lives. It seldom offers boons, for they are to be wrested from beyond it, some witches say that the trial itself is the gift of the gate.

The Raven-of-Ways: An aspect of knowledge and its pursuit, secrets and journeys, the Raven is an elusive aspect who loves its riddles but is all too willing to show the path to witches looking for answers. It is known above all for its mastery of phasmiurgy, especially its prophetic aspects.

The Raven Queen: An aspect of retribution, grudges, balance and bloodshed. The Raven Queen is known to be a vengeful creature, of whom vicious and warlike witches are beloved. One of the few aspects to directly interact with witches, she is known to hunt down and slaughter those who betray their oaths. She is known for her violence and boons of might.

[thisbelongsto-nohbodys]

So, post-series headcanons on Luz, Amity, Willow, Gus, and Hunter?

I'm mostly waiting on any creator/crew post-series Q&A interviews to really dive into major headcanons but here's a few off the top of my head that I have atm:

Luz: After finishing University (with flying colors), Luz became a writer/comic artist in the human realm and both a writer and explorer in the demon realm. With King's new glyphs, Luz got not only to see which old glyph combos still work but also test out new ones that she thought of in the 3+ years that she had before King figured out his Light glyph.

Amity: Due to taking over her dad's factory and working on both new abomi-ton inventions and exploring Amity got buff, her muscles are not as large as Willow's but Amity could dead-lift Warden Wraith's weight. Amity got to meet Mildred Featherwhyle at a human convention Luz took her to, Amity got all of her books signed and keeps them behind glass cases guarded by new abomi-tons she designed.

Willow: Willow is a coach for the new Hexside's Flyer Derby team and really likes helping the kids, she still plays with the original Emerald Entrails but as they have their own thing she's had to remake the team and will have her team skirmish against the Hexside team to help them get better. She helped Dell and Eda rebuild the Palistrom Woods with the help of the Plant Coven Artifact (before turning it over to the new Plant Coven Leader). While not the Plant Coven head now, rumor has it that many are considering suggesting her in a future Coven Head election.

Gus: He and Vee run the University of Wild Magic's Human/Witch Exchange Program, however it's less sending witchlings to human school and more an extended summer field trip (less likely to be hounded by authorities for kids not in school in summer as Luz and Vee points out early on), Gus and Vee help show witchlings around the human town of Gravesfield and teaching them about human things. He has yet to make peace with the Giraffes but he's getting close.

Hunter: After doing some digging into the history of Caleb he discovered that he's related to the Clawthornes, Eda tried to make a "little nephew" joke but Luz pointed out that since Hunter is a Grim Walker clone of Caleb that he's actually Eda's Great Great Great (insert more) Grandpa. This new family connection brought him to Dell who taught him Palisman carving alongside Eda also helping. Hunter considers both Darius, Eberwolf and Camila as his parents, all of whom consider him as their kid.

[kinhelp-permitoffice]

Gengar themed NPT's

For anon <3

Names ★ ˎˊ˗

Cheshire, Shriek, Spectre, Nox, Amethyst, Harley, Yule, Pierre, Inky, Clyde, Grimm, Nyx, Wraith, Buffy, Coven, Mal, Fantasma, Lillith, Omen.

Pronouns ★ ˎˊ˗

Ae/aer, em/er, spook/spookself, ghoul/ghoulself, sca/scares, boo/booself, hau/haunts, prank/prankself, mal/malice, sur/surprise, Howl/howlself, shri/shriek.

Titles ★ ˎˊ˗

[Prn] Who Spooks The Unexpecting, The Poke-Prankster, The Midnight Screeching, The Ghastly Presence, [prn] Who Haunts The Night, The Fiendish Smiler, [prn] Who's Laugh Is Impish, The Ghostly Veil.

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: Stay Put

The streets of the Forerunner city on Alpha Halo were deserted, a silent testament to a civilization that had vanished eons ago. These pathways, once bustling with life, now played host to only whispers of the past and the occasional footfalls from John.

The Master Chief moved with a deliberate pace, his towering figure cutting through the eerie stillness. There was no need for weapons in hand; the man was a walking arsenal, a fact well known across the galaxy.

Trailing behind him, a sight that would baffle any onlooker—a young Sangheili. This child, swathed in robes rather than armor, seemed out of place following a human, especially one as formidable as the Master Chief. Yet, here he was, tailing John like a lost puppy, albeit one that could potentially rip your arm off if provoked. His movements were hesitant, betraying a mix of reverence and fear that one might reserve for a deity or, in this case, a heavily armored super-soldier.

Cortana's holographic form flickers into existence. She looked like she'd walked straight out of ancient Athens, though the furrow of her digital brow suggested she was more concerned with the present than the philosophies of the past. "John, you've got a tail. And I'm not talking about our little friend here," she said, her voice carrying a hint of snark that belied her skittish posture.

Almost on cue, a squad of Covenant enforcers rounded a corner, their presence an instant threat in the quiet of the abandoned city. They were a small group, but they packed enough firepower to make a dent. Their armor glinted under the artificial light of the Halo, a silent challenge to any who dared stand in their path.

Without missing a beat, John scooped up the Sangheili child, a move so swift it was almost casual. "Hang on, kid," he muttered, an odd note of tenderness in his voice that contrasted sharply with his next actions.

Ducking into an alleyway, he set the child down with surprising gentleness. "Kee'rah here, gah'nu? Nu'keh vo'rah, kee'lah so'ko." (Stay here, got it? Don't come out until I say so) he instructed in Sangheili, a language he spoke with the ease of a native.

The kid nodded, his eyes wide behind his mask. The fear was palpable, but so was the trust. "Vah'ruum kee'na." (I will wait) he said, the words heavy with an accent but clear in intention.

John nodded once, then turned to face the emerging threat, his figure a stark silhouette against the dim light filtering into the alley. Cortana's form hovered near him, her earlier apprehension replaced by a focused concern. "Don't get too cocky, John. Remember, pride comes before a fall, and I'm not equipped with a broom to sweep up your ego."

The Spartan couldn't help but crack a small smile, barely perceptible beneath his helmet. "Keep an eye on our six, Cortana. I'll handle the front."

As he stepped back into the fray, the alleyway behind him became a temporary sanctuary for the young Sangheili, a silent witness to the unlikely alliances formed in the shadow of war...

John burst from the alleyway, his eyes quickly scanning the scene before him. The air was charged with anticipation, the quiet before the storm. Ahead, a Wraith tank, menacing and bristling with firepower, was flanked by two Ghosts, their drivers cackling with glee. A squad of Zealot Elites, their energy swords humming with deadly intent, completed the deadly entourage. The battlefield was set for a clash of titans.

Without a moment's hesitation, John charged forward, his Spartan armor enhancing his speed to a blur. The ground beneath his feet seemed to quake with each step, a testament to the impending showdown. WHOOOSH! The first Ghost lunged at him, its plasma cannons blazing. John leapt into the air, a twist of his body turning his momentum into a devastating kick that sent the Ghost spiraling into a nearby ruin, exploding in a ball of fire and smoke. BOOM! Landing gracefully, John didn't pause.

The second Ghost zoomed towards him, cannons firing wildly. ZZZZAP! ZZZZAP! With an agile roll, John dodged the plasma bolts and, in one fluid motion, ripped the plasma cannon from the Ghost. Turning it on the vehicle, he unleashed a torrent of energy that shredded the Ghost apart.

KA-BLAM! Now, the Wraith tank took aim, its main cannon charging with a deep, ominous hum. The air vibrated with the power of the impending shot. John, eyeing the massive tank, sprinted towards it, the plasma cannon still in hand. As the Wraith fired, John leapt, using the cannon as a shield. The plasma bolt hit the cannon, engulfing John in a blinding light, but when it cleared, there he stood, unscathed, the cannon obliterated.

With a roar, the Brutes driving the Wraith emerged, brandishing gravity hammers. John dashed forward, meeting the first Brute with a powerful punch that sent it flying back into the tank with a CRUNCH. The second Brute swung its hammer in a wide arc, WHOOSH, but John ducked under the swing, then uppercut the Brute into the air, following up with a swift jump and a mid-air tackle that crashed them both into the tank, denting its armor.

As the tank reeled from the impact, the Zealot Elites charged, energy swords drawn. John landed, facing the onslaught. The first Elite swung its sword in a deadly arc, but John parried with a stolen energy dagger, the clash of energy creating a dazzling display of sparks. CLANG! He spun, delivering a roundhouse kick to another Elite, sending it crashing into a third.

THWACK! The battle was a whirlwind of motion. John moved like a specter among the Elites, dodging, parrying, and striking with precision. Each move was a dance of death, a testament to his unmatched skill and the power of the Spartan program.

Finally, as the last Elite fell, John stood alone amidst the wreckage of his foes, breathing heavily but victorious. The silence that followed was a stark contrast to the chaos that had just ensued...

In the aftermath of what could only be described as a one-man demolition derby—courtesy of John himself—the battlefield was a sight to behold. Wreckage strewn about like confetti after a particularly rowdy party, courtesy of our favorite Spartan and his less-than-gentle touch. John stood amidst the chaos, taking a moment to breathe in the... well, not fresh air. More like the smoky, charged scent of victory and plasma burns.

"Kee'lah so'ko!" he bellowed into the alleyway, the Sangheili equivalent of (Time to come out, kiddo!) His voice carried the kind of authority that even the most disobedient pet would think twice about ignoring. The young Sangheili, whose idea of a good time probably didn't include cowering in alleyways during explosive battles, peeked out. Seeing John, who was remarkably not on fire or dismembered (a common outcome for most after such a scuffle), he scampered over. With a move that was part relief, part "you're-my-hero," the kid gave John a hug around his waist. It was a touching scene, if you ignored the backdrop of fiery destruction.

"Kee'va tu'rah vah. Vo'kehm nu'keh vo'gah, gah'nu?" John said, his voice finding that gentle timbre that he rarely used, probably because it was hard to sound gentle when you're a human tank. (You did well to stay put. But let's not make a habit of this, okay?)

The kid, still clinging like a limpet, mumbled something that sounded like awe and agreement all mashed into one. "Vah... vah kee'nu'rah vah'rom. Kee'ah... kee'ah vum'rahr, thum'keeva vah'ree." (You... you took them all down. Like a... like a really angry, heavily armored bear)

John couldn't help but chuckle—a sound as rare as a polite discussion between a Grunt and a Marine. "Gah, kee'ah vum'ko. Vo'kehm, thum'keeva vah'ree kee'va so'rah vum'kah veerah, gah'nu?" (Yeah, something like that. But hey, angry bears have to make sure everyone gets home safe, right?)

As they resumed their trek through the city's ruins, the child's curiosity bubbled over like a pot left unattended. "Vah'keem kee'va nu'kuh thum'keeva vah'ree tu'rah?" (Are we going to see more...angry bear stuff?) The question was earnest, a mix of dread and excitement at the prospect of more explosions and heroic deeds.

John, casting a sidelong glance at his small companion, shrugged. "Vah'keem. Vah'zum kee'ah thum'roh, vum'la tu'keeva. Vo'kehm nu'vah, kee'na thum'keeva vah'rah tu'keeva vum." (Probably. The galaxy's a big place, filled with all sorts of trouble. But don't worry, I've got enough bear rage for all of it)

The conversation took a turn for the philosophical—or as philosophical as one can get when discussing intergalactic conflict and angry bears. "Vo'kehm vah'ruum? Kee'rah nu'kuh tu'keeva?" (And after? When there's no more trouble?)

Looking ahead, John's gaze softened, a rare moment of introspection for the Spartan. "Vah'ruum kee'va so'rah vum'kah. Vum'la kee'zum, vum'nu vah'haus... Vah'keem, vum'nu kee'na vah'bakeery." (Then we make sure it stays that way. Maybe plant a garden, build a house... Who knows, maybe even open a bakery)

"Vah'bakeery?" (A bakery?) The kid's tone was incredulous, as if the idea of the Master Chief swapping his rifle for a rolling pin was more far-fetched than any alien race.

"Gah, vo'kehm nu'kuh? Vah'zum kee'love cookies. Nu'keh kee'va intergalactic vah'rahs kee'rah vah'la eating cookies." (Yeah, why not? Everyone loves cookies. Can't start intergalactic wars if you're busy eating cookies)

Their laughter echoed through the ruins, a light moment that bridged the gap between species and circumstances. With every step, they moved not just toward their next destination, but toward a future where the absurdity of baking cookies could stand as a beacon of hope in a war-torn galaxy.

@jellotherelol, @empresskadia, @authortobenamedlater, @ageless-aislynn, @ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask, @makowrites.

[witchcraftandgeekness]

TVD X Six of Crows crossover almost nobody asked for

Kaz Brekker

(i tried to make vampire!Kaz aesthetic. The problem is, it looks like simple Kaz aesthetic)

In 20's his brother was killed by his sire but Kaz was turned. This traumatic event lead to Kaz's touch aversion, which made feeding much harder for him. Nowadays he gladly uses blood bags.

Kaz lead the gang called the Dregs in Amsterdam for years. He also formed his supernatural crew, the Crows. When the Original Hybrid contacted him, promising a big reward for kidnapping the doppelganger, Brekker couldn't resist the oportunity.

(i have no intention of erasing Kaz's disability, his leg was injured before his transition therefore he is still limping and uses cane)

Inej Ghafa

Inej Ghafa, the vampire of Nepali origin, who was turned by Kaz, which saved her from Tante Heleen, the witch known for making magically-induced contracts. She is called the Wraith for her ability to move soundlessly, even for vampire hearing. Inej had mastered her control and doesn't feed on humans (unless they really, really deserve that).

(i wanted to make her muslim but it somehow didn't work. Ravkan Saints are clear allusion on Russian saints, which are from Orthodox Christianity. Also I gave her Nepali origin because of Amita Suman)

Jesper Fahey

Jesper is a part of Dregs and the Crows. He was born in Australia (Novyi Zem is mentioned to be based on Australian colonies and i love Australia way too much), and went to college in Netherlands. Unfortunatally for him, things went wrong and he ended up working on Kaz because of his sharpshooter skills and secret magical abilities.

(i imagine Colm to be Irish who imigrated in Australia while Aditi is Indigenous Australian and a witch, zowa as their coven called themselves)

Wylan van Eck Hendriks

The only human in their gang, Wylan balances this by being a demolitions expert, and having impressive knowledge of alchemy and chemistry. He is proficient in music and graffiti art as well (because I said so). Later it was revealed that Wylan knew about supernatural from his father, who was the part of Amsterdam's Counsel of supernatural awareness (which wasn't an obstacle when Van Eck needed some magical help for his own profit). Like Kaz, Wylan was born in Netherlands.

Nina Zenik

Nina comes from Russia and more specifically, Grisha – that's how the coven that consists of witches from different Slavic bloodlines call themselves. For many centuries years the coven has been lead by heretic called the Darkling, who was searching for young witches with the proper heritage and recruting them in the coven. Nina was one of them. Until she met Matthias.

When she ended up in Amsterdam and Matthias – in the jail of local coven, she joined Kaz and worked on him ever since.

Later her magic experienced harsh shift, making her magical source rotate around death instead of nature and life. Among other newfound abilities, she now can see those on the Other Side.

Matthias Helvar

Matthias was born in Swedish werewolf pack that had long-term war with the Grisha coven. The youth go through an initiation by killing their first witch. Something went wrong with Matthias' first kill.

He became an outcast by falling in love with one of Grisha, Nina Zenik. He promised to protect her in life and death and proceeded to fullfil his promise. Even from the Other side.

I got hyped up by this AU and can do nothing about it.

[halopedia]

Trivia Tuesday - Plasma Cannon

Did You Know that the Wraith's secondary plasma cannon in Halo Infinite bears great resemblance to the unfinished plasma cannon on the Scout Revenant, a vehicle cut from Halo 4?

Although the Scout Revenant was cut from Halo 4, the 2022 Halo Encyclopedia canonized the vehicle as the Phelent-pattern Ground Striker. The release of Halo 4 on PC as part of MCC has also made it possible to restore the vehicle as a mod.

[a-crit-roll]

As a necron and admech lover, I wanted to go over the new balance pass.

Starting with Admech

I think it sucks. Cawl going down is nice, but all these point cuts do is make Admech more expensive to field, and more of a horde, which is not the power fantasy for this faction. They need rule changes, not point cuts.

Robots needed to go down, but still only get the army rule in one detachment, and feel lacking at their core.

Good news is that GW says they’ll be giving admech “a shot in the arm” in a later patch. Maybe the detachments will actually apply to most of the army when that happens.

Onto the Necrons

The C’tan needed those point increases, they were way too sturdy for the price they were at. But nothing has changed with being able to use the hypercrypt’s tools on them, which was another of the big uses for them. A Nightbringer to the backline or a transcendent C’tan with cosmic precision will still be strategies.

I felt like the Immortals were only really spammed because our other battleline were Necron Warriors, who are really sad since the codex dropped due to their lowered firepower and durability.

However, I like the change. As a whole, I want Necron units to be more expensive. It made them actually feel like they actually had better technology back when the Warriors were 20 points each and Immortals were 30.

The catacomb going down is nice, since it was too costly for what it did, but I am shocked that both Flayed Ones and Deathmarks went down. (Once again, I want units to be more expensive) Those two were useful and good, especially the Deathmarks.

Ophydians, Skorpekhs, and the Skorpekh Lord going down might help make them more viable, but doesn’t feel good. These are large monstrous metal killers, but their stat lines just don’t feel like they match up.

It will help my all destroyer list, but I would prefer if stat lines and the Annihilation Legion detachment were to be buffed instead.

The monolith going up in points feels bad; it was already only good in Hypercrypt, and this just enforced that further. It would have been better to go to the root of the problem, which is Hypercrypt’s flexibility and strength as a detachment.

Chronomancer, Technomancer, and Plasmancer going up is fine, but Psychomancer is still bad and looks to be staying that way. I really wish the latter were able to join Flayed Ones.

I’m surprised that wraiths didn’t go up, but seeing as they are usually in Canoptek Court with a Technomancer, the unit as a whole will still be more expensive.

The obelisk remains the obelisk, and any inkling of a Silent King list remains an inkling as he still doesn’t have the Triarch or overlord keywords that would help him in Obeisance Phalanx. (Neither do Imotekh or Trazyn have Overlord for that matter)

Hopefully when they address rules later there will be updates to Obeisance Phalanx and Annihilation Legion, and something to bring Hypercrypt to heel for some internal balance.

It would be nice as well if the overlord could take his blade (warscythe) and resurrection orb, instead of needing to take the voidscythe to get the orb. Just silly, seeing as the official way to give your orb overlord a staff of light is to steal a rod of covenant (to the point the cover art has an overlord with a rod of covenant) when it could just be done with a warscythe from the same kit.

[beansprean]

My Familiar's Ghost part 22

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Panel split three ways, with the Guide in the top left, Laszlo and Guillermo on the bottom, and Lilith in the top right. Lilith, dressed in a black lace dress and pressing a pink smartphone to her ear, gestures wildly with her free hand and shouts "What?! I didn't curse you!! That would be very bad for business!" She looks extremely offended. The Guide calmly replies into her old fashioned wall phone, speaker bell pressed to her ear, "Could other rival covens have done so?" Lilith snaps, "They better not dare! Our Memo is off-limits by threat of raising my prices!" Laszlo is leaning his cheek on his hand, eyes closed and looking bored as he holds the phone receiver up for ghost Guillermo. Guillermo leans in close, face creased in concern, scraps of black cloak swirling around him. He prompts, "Lilith, can you check? It's really important."

2. Lilith plants a hand on her hip with a resigned curl to her lip, replying "For you? I suppose. But in my experience, creatures like wraiths and litches usually do this kind of thing to themselves in some kind of bid for power." The Guide nods solemnly from her box. Laszlo opens his eyes with a little smirk and adds, "Well, that sounds about right for this Machiavellian little tyke." Guillermo jerks in closer to the receiver, desperately insisting "But I didn't!"

3. Lilith smiles patiently and says "Of course not, Memo! I'll put the word out, and if I find anything, you'll be the first to know! Kisses!" There is a boop as she pulls the phone away from her ear and ends the call. The Guide gives a little shrug and smiles indulgently into the phone, offering "Do not worry, Guillermo! If you do become a wraith, you can always come live with me at Vampiric Council Headquarters!" Guillermo's shoulders slump as he straightens, frowning, and replies "Yeah. Thanks, Guide." Laszlo spares a glance at the receiver as the Guide hangs up with a click. /end ID