#dae was the journey she made

[saywhatyouwillbut]

what’s so hilarious about min ho and kitty is that he convinces himself she’s obsessed with him, meanwhile she literally could not give less of a fuck until he confesses his love for her on a plane

[daenysthedreamer101]

Daughter of Steel and Bronze ~ HOTD

Ch 2 - Claiming your birthright

HOTD x Targaryen!OC, eventual Targaryen!OC x Harwin Strong

Warnings: none, fluff, Nyra and Daena being adorable besties

Masterlist

"In 105 AC, Prince Daemon claimed Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm, for himself. Caraxes was previously ridden by Prince Aemon, Daemon's uncle. This fact made many people at court wary, especially Ser Otto Hightower, the Hand, for Prince Daemon was hotheaded and quick to anger. It seemed he found his equal in Caraxes. Prince Daemon was also the wielder of Dark Sister, one of the ancestral swords of House Targaryen. As for his daughter, her egg never hatched. Nevertheless, this would not stop the Prince in his journey to make his beloved Daena a dragon rider like himself."

(Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros, by Archmaester Gyldayn)

~

The next day was the first official day of Rhaenyra's name day celebration. The whole of the Red Keep was bustling with excitement - from the cooks in the Royal kitchens to the stable boys and of course, the Royal family. Daena was expected to be there for her cousin and make this special day even more special. Today at noon the celebration would officially begin with a great feast in the Great Hall. 

She was woken up by Amanda and told that Rhaenyra had called for her for a visit. They were to break fast with the Queen. Daena liked the idea of that. Queen Aemma was kind, soft-spoken, loving, and nothing but caring. She was always nice to Daena. But Daena felt bad for her. Every time Daena saw her, which wasn't a lot but still, she was pregnant. And as far as Daena knew, none of the babies the Queen was pregnant with survived. Daena, dressed in a simple silk dress decorated with bronze and silver threads, was now being escorted to the Queen's chambers. 

There, she was greeted by Rhaenyra who pulled her in a tight hug. "Cousin! You're here! We're going to have the best time today!" Nyra exclaimed happily. 

"And why is that, dear cousin?" Daena asked. Nyra giggled, pulled her closer, and whispered in her ear. 

"Because...I convinced Father and Uncle Daemon to let you see Syrax! I know how much you wished for it. So I thought we could do it after the feast!" Nyra said. 

Daena's eyes widened in shock. Daena couldn't contain the squeal that left her mouth. She and Nyra jumped in delight. Aemma was chuckling in the back.

~

At noon the great feast began. She had the honor of sitting next to Rhaenyra. "You're the closest thing I have to a sister. I think you deserve to sit next to me." Nyra told her when they sat down at the high table. From there, Daena could see the entire Hall and all the lords and ladies who came for the celebration. 

Uncle Viserys was in the middle. To his right was Queen Aemma and next to her was Ser Otto Hightower. To the King's left was Rhaenyra. To Daena's left was her father, Daemon. After the first course, Rhaenyra got up and danced with their cousin, Laenor Velaryon. Daena never interacted much with him. She preferred his sister, Laena. Laena was a year younger than Daena and was lively and fun to play with.

During the feast, Daena could see many people looking her way and whispering to each other. The daughter of the Rogue Prince was making her first official appearance at court. She didn't understand why they all feared her father. He was always kind and gentle with her. He would braid her hair and teach her High Valyrian.

He would sing her lullabies in the ancient language. Most importantly, he would comfort her anytime she was sad about not having a dragon. But apparently, other people thought he was "dangerous" and "cruel as Maegor". She wanted to roll her eyes at those ridiculous words. 

After the feast held in the Great Hall, Daena was tired. Well, not tired per se, she felt heavy and sleepy from eating so much food. She yawned quietly and saw Nyra looking at her. "Issi ao ēdrugī, hāedar?" (Are you sleepy, little sister/cousin?) Rhaenyra asked Daena.

Daena smiled sheepishly and nodded her head. Nyra chuckled and took Daena's hand in hers. "Nyke tolī. Māzigon va. Ivestragī's jikagon se gūrogon iā adere ēdrugon." (Me too. Come on. Let's go and take a nap.) The two young princesses walked happily hand in hand toward Rhaenyra's bed chamber. 

There, they took off their dresses and were left only in their small clothes. They unbraided each other's silver hair. Daena pulled the big, heavy velvet curtains over the windows. They crawled into Rhaenyra's bed and slept with full bellies and happy hearts. 

~

Daemon couldn't wait for the feast to be over. The only reason he was there in the first place is because it was expected of him, as the King's brother. Also, he knew just how much it meant to his niece, Rhaenyra, and his daughter Daena. The two girls were inseparable and were sisters in everything but name. His primary goal in coming to the capital was to secure a dragon for his precious girl. Even now he could hear people whispering around the court about how his daughter's egg didn't hatch. How it's too late for her. 

"Lies. All lies." He claimed Caraxes when he was 24. His daughter had plenty of time to claim one for herself. But Daemon was anything but a patient person. So, of course, he was planning on speeding up the process. He planned on suggesting to the King that, since Daena was down South, she should visit the ancient ancestral seat of their House - Dragonstone. There, she could explore the island and its many caves. Hopefully, she would bond with a hatchling.

"Where is that mischievous little girl?" Daemon murmured to himself as he walked down the halls of the Red Keep. He checked her room. She wasn't there. She must've snuck somewhere, away from the buzz of the court. And if his instincts were right, she wasn't alone. 

He quickly turned to the other hallway, which housed Rhaenyra's room. In front of her door was her sworn shield, Ser Harrold Westerling. "Prince Daemon." The knight greeted him. 

"Ser Harrold...did you by any chance see my daughter? I can't seem to locate her." Daemon inquired. The knight nodded, opened the heavy oak door, and gestured for Daemon to walk in. So he did. The sight that greeted him warmed his rogue heart.

On top of the big oak bed, his little girl was curled up with her favorite cousin, the two blissfully asleep. Their silver hair was loose, their round cheeks red from the heat of the fireplace. The room was barely lit and the air was stuffy. Their little hands were intertwined. They seemed to be hugging each other, their breaths mingling. He originally wanted to scold Daena for sneaking out of the feast with Rhaenyra, but he didn't have the heart to wake them up now.

At the foot of the bed, he saw a book, lying open. It seems the girls were reading before taking a nap. He picked it up. It was in High Valyrian. This particular chapter was about commands riders would use on their dragons. "My little dragon...always eager to learn." Daemon thought to himself with a smile on his face. 

He walked closer to the edge of the bed and looked at the sleeping figure of his little girl. She was so beautiful, she looked like a little angel - now even more so. He caressed her rosy cheek and moved a silver curl from her face. "Ñuha gevie riña." (My beautiful girl.) He whispered and pulled the covers over their small bodies. He left the room silently. 

"Inform me when the Princesses wake up." He told Ser Harrold and went in the direction of the stables to get his horse. He was going to the Dragonpit with a plan in his mind.

~

They were awakened by the harsh afternoon sunlight. Daena could feel the light hitting her eyes. She groaned and turned around, almost colliding with Nyra's face. 

"Princesses...It seems you fell asleep. Prince Daemon told me to wake you up. Have you forgotten about your little arrangement in the Dragonpit?" Amanda told them with a small smile on her face. 

"Oh Gods! Yes, of course! Come on Daena, get dressed!" Rhaenyra said with a gasp and urged her cousin to get dressed quickly. 

"But my clothes are in my room...Besides...I don't have any clothes for dragon riding..." Daena argued. 

"That's not a problem. Take one of my suits." Nyra offered graciously. This made Daena smile a wide smile. 

The trip to the Dragonpit was short. The two girls chatted the whole time so the time went by quickly. Once they arrived, Daena could not believe her eyes. The Dragonpit was a huge, cavernous building made to house the dragons. And the sight that greeted her brought a smile to her face. Her father, Daemon was scratching the scales of his monstrous red dragon, Caraxes, known as the Blood Wyrm. She could see that Caraxes was restless to fly.

"Come, sweet girl. He won't hurt you." Daemon called for her. She looked at Rhaenyra who was beside her. Nyra just smiled a mischievous smile. 

"But what about you? You told me I would see Syrax." Daena questioned.

"Don't worry. I will introduce you two later. Now, go!" Nyra said and pushed her deeper into the Pit. 

Daena slowly approached her father and his dragon. She has seen the dragon many times. Her father took her hand and pressed it against Caraxes's hot scales. For a second she thought her skin would melt off her hands, but it didn't. The dragon clicked and whistled, happy to see his rider's child. He could sense the little being was a Targaryen, that she was Daemon's offspring, and that she too had the blood of the dragon. His big yellow eyes bore into her lilac ones.

"He likes you. He can tell - you're a dragon too." Daemon told his daughter. She smiled shyly, happy that her father's dragon liked her. 

"Now. Climb up." Daemon ordered her. She whipped her head. 

"What!?" Daena said, shocked. 

"You heard me. Climb up. I will be right behind you." He assured her. She took a deep breath and started climbing the ropes to get to the saddle, her father right behind her. 

"Sōvēs Caraxes!" (Fly Caraxes!) She heard her father say behind her. And then, they flew. 

High Valyrian:

Issi ao ēdrugī, hāedar? - Are you sleepy, little sister/cousin?

Nyke tolī. Māzigon va. Ivestragī's jikagon se gūrogon iā adere ēdrugon. - Me too. Come on. Let's go and take a nap. 

Ñuha gevie riña. - My beautiful girl. 

Sōvēs Caraxes! - Fly Caraxes! 

***

In this chapter we see more of Daena's bond with both Nyra and her father. It was mostly filler but next chapter will be a crucial one for Daena.

Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading! ❤❤❤

If you have any opinions feel free to comment!

[butterflydm]

2x7 - daes dae'mar (more thoughts)

I threw some thoughts out last night before I went to sleep because they were bouncing around in my brain and I wanted to get them down but I wanted to expand on some of that this morning.

Two things we were told in 2x1:

every choice has consequence(s)

alone, we are exposed but, together, we can be a shield wall

We have seen a lot of consequences coming to roost on people's heads this season. One that seems to have surprised a lot of viewers is that we are seeing big consequences from Moiraine and Lan's twenty years of secrecy. Which is both things wrapped up together - the choices they've made have isolated them. While in some cases that's a good thing (Liandrin knowing about the Dragon Reborn hunt would have been very bad!), they've also now had two different Sisters willing to go against Tower law in order to help them (Verin & Alanna).

Choices and consequences.

Moiraine lets Rand go at the Eye of the World in 1x8 -> it takes her until 2x4 to find him again, and it's only after one of the Forsaken has already been manipulating him for months.

Moiraine hides her weaknesses and fears even from the people she loves most -> the people that she loves worry about her intentions. Lan had to go on an entire season-long journey to come to terms with being shut out of Moiraine's head; Siuan has only just learned that Moiraine has been lying to her by omission for six (!) months. (Siuan has just as much right to be angry over this as Rand's loved ones have to be angry with him over lying about being dead imo)

Lan keeps Moiraine's secrets at any cost -> Alanna, Ihvon, and Maksim note his shady behavior and are worried that he's a Darkfriend.

I find both Alanna's worry in 2x5 and Siuan's worry in this episode to be incredibly reasonable reactions to the actual information they had been given (or not given).

Not telling the people you love what you're afraid of or about your failures creates separation (one of the themes of the season). It happened with Moiraine and Lan, and now it's happened with Moiraine and Siuan.

So Siuan has, for the last six months, believed that Moiraine was in control of the situation with Rand. Siuan sent Logain to Cairhien so that he could teach Rand and otherwise has been hands-off, trusting Moiraine to do what was needed to be done. And she just found out that this appears to have been a huge mistake - the Dragon has no control over his power, enough so that Siuan was able to easily shield him. He's barely been taught at all. And at the end of the episode... Moiraine feels betrayed because Siuan used her Oath against her; Siuan feels betrayed because Moiraine help the Dragon break out of Tower control using the help of one of the Forsaken. Even if you strip away Siuan wondering if Moiraine is a Darkfriend/Black Ajah (and given that she straight-out accuses Moiraine of lying, Siuan must be wondering if Moiraine is BA), Moiraine's actions look terrible. Especially since I'm assuming Moiraine didn't mention Lanfear in any of her letters either.

Rafe mentioned that one of the priorities about this season was making sure that the stage would be set for The Shadow Rising and I definitely am feeling that way in this plotline especially. We've just set up the fault lines that will lead to the coup and we've set up chaos in Cairhien.

Choices and consequences.

Rand leaves his loved ones behind, cutting his past life off behind him -> leaving him incredibly emotionally vulnerable when 'Selene' comes to call on him. We are still seeing the consequences of that initial choice unravel. His choice to try to strike it out alone has meant that he has no clue what he's doing.

Mat stays behind at the Waygate, confirming to himself that he's a coward -> again, this opens the door to emotional vulnerability. Something that both Liandrin and now Ishamael are taking full advantage of, pressing on that button of self-loathing in the hopes that it will break, and Mat will break with it.

This season has been making it clear, over and over, that it is a choice to be united, not something that happens by default. You don't have to come with me; you don't have to stay; you don't have to help. Nynaeve tells this to both Egwene and Elayne; in a reversed way, Elyas tells this to Perrin (you can come with me instead of helping your friends who were captured); Rand tells this to Mat.

Moiraine has spent all season trying to make it impossible for Lan to stay by her side, because she believes that she can't protect him without her powers. But that's Lan's choice, not Moiraine's. This fight is his too, not just hers. We see this echoed in Anvaere's storyline -- Moiraine doesn't even know that her life was threatened! She doesn't know that Anvaere destroyed all her hopes and dreams of the future, and of her son's future, to save Moiraine's life. And Anvaere did this in the full belief that Moiraine doesn't love her (which I don't think is true, but Anvaere absolutely believes it). Anvaere will lose everything and gain nothing out of this... except that she is doing the right thing.

It matters to Anveare that she does the right thing, even if it costs her dearly. Even if it costs her everything.

And this is exactly what Siuan does too -- I love that both Siuan and Moiraine make extremely terrible choices because they believe those choices are necessary to save the world -- which ties them into what Renna tells Egwene this episode in a fascinating way. We are definitely getting our Rand & Egwene parallels in 2x6 & 2x7!

Doing the right thing is a choice. But it's a choice that you need accurate information in order to make good decisions about. Lan did a lot of fact-finding recently, and what he learned helped him parse out what 'the right thing' was in the cloud of possible right things.

Nynaeve actually said something like this, back during 1x7 -- Moiraine has already made her choice, now it's time for the Two Rivers' group to make theirs. She does not get to make it for them. And that's what we're seeing this season. We're seeing all of these other players on the board making their choices (and seeing how information, or lack of information, informs those choices).

(which also ties into the theme of cages and freedom; we have to be given the freedom to make choices. Which ties into... well, something that is more spoilery than my tag, so I will stop there.)

[silken-threads-bah]

Creator's choice with the long template, if that's okay?

We made this as a personal pack a while ago but never posted it, so thanks for giving us the opportunity to! If you want a non-fictive Creator's choice though, you can send us another ask and we'll do it eventually :)

Name: illyana rasputin, magik, illy, anya

Age: 19 (Age regresses to 3-9)

Pronouns: she/it/dae

Gender: demongender, bloodcoric, offgirl

When regressed: softdemongender, innoruien

Orientation: pansexual

Source: the new mutants (based more on the movie than the comics)

Personality: the type that likes to hurt people before they can be hurt. Is terrified of letting anyone get close enough to her that they could hurt her, so she pushes everyone away. Wants to scare people away before they find out who she is and end up leaving her. Pushes people away. Is very protective over those it's decided to trust. Basically like a cat that likes being near people but hates when they get pet or interacted with.

Personality when regressed: becomes much nicer and more open, will talk to people honestly without a shield of irritability. Very creative and likes to come up with long stories that have drawings to accompany them, and usually they follow fantastical journeys that her and Lockheed have gone on. Very sensitive when regressed, any form of teasing or rejection or sign that they don't like her will make her spiral.

Likes/interests: Lockheed, dragons, demonology, drawing, comics, pushing people's buttons, getting what she wants, the colors black and purple, metal music, horror movies, parallel play

Dislikes: personal questions, people touching Lockheed or trying to touch her, when people think she's evil even though she tries to get them to think that, being alone, people talking to her unless she likes them

Other/extra info: has a tail, horns, and goat hooves when regressed and when angry

Species: mutant, demon

Signoffs/emojis: 🗡🛡,🪄✨️

Faceclaims:

[the-antiapocalyptic-man]

How do you handle more morally grey characters like Catwoman or Lobo in the context of Earth-3?

they're still morally grey, it's more of a shift of context. Mouse (Maggie Kyle) has a very different dynamic with Owlman than Selina does with Bruce, while White Cat (Min-Dae Hawke) has aspects of Catwoman absent from Mouse while also filling a Black Canary role between Tom and Blue Bowman (tho all Dinah's powers go to Scream Queen/Laurel Lance).

Warwolf is pretty much exactly Lobo but the Crime Syndicates of Earth are more than willing to pay him for his services, so his new context is more to do with Czarn continuing to exist and Warwolf's exile hanging over his head. If anything, he's happy to be on Earth to hide away from the Galactic Empires that want him dead.

On the other, there's a character like Harley Quinn where there's room to explore a negative arc. She can start as Jack Dent's friendly, helpful manager and devolve into one of Owlman's Made Men (or even an independent crime boss) after abandoning Jack and striking out on her own, all as a reverse of Harley's journey from Joker's "girlfriend" to an independent figure who's morally dubious but now often portrayed as being in the right.

[survivalistghost]

it's time for

sh**ting stars !

look at them.

i will never understand why it's censored.

welcome back to unwanted reviews <3 today we're talking about shooting stars, a series that is not well known but one of the best ones out there.

we've got our fighter oh han byul and rich hot traumatised gong tae sung, college (?) friends but working enemies transition to (obviously) lovers.

i. well-placed transition between friendship to crush to love to hatred to love again from both the sides, tbh. it was difficult to see han byul feel anything during the first few episodes but loved the way lee sung kyung brought her to life. han byul was treated as a proper working woman, who was not some miracle worker or anything, but her journey of learning and growing was explored well.

ii. all bow down before kim young dae. istg, i completely understood the hype about tae sung in the series. also, kdrama actors look better with their hair pushed back and you can't fucking change my mind. this man was the perfect example of petty but i think he redeemed himself well. his bromance with almost every male character in the show was simply *chef's kiss*

iii. side characters special shoutout they were so cute, everyone ended up together like one happy family. it's like watching your kids grow up and all marry each other. (quote: the office us). special mention to tae sung's manager bec damn that actor was a pain. manager was also pretty dumb in the beginning but he made up by helping tae sung flirt with han byul.

iv. han byul and tae sung were SO cute together. the ending scene was so wholesome and gave me sm closure on the entire series, it made me cry. also, the way she never gave a crap about his celebrity status when he kept DOING COOL THINGS AND MA'AM NEVER PAID ATTENTION i felt so bad for tae sung

v. those two side actors getting married was cute and deserves a special point.

8/10, sung kyung never fails to impress (kim bok joo????) and young dae stole my heart. it was so weird seeing lee jung shin in c4k after this but love him all the same. loved kim yoon hye's diverse roles from vincenzo to this she was absolutely amazing.

go watch shooting stars, honestly.

oh sorry, sh**ting stars. (honestly, is there something im missing? WHY IS IT CENSORED??)

8/10

[liselicanis]

Good Things Fall Apart

[AO3 Link]

Chapter 6: Chase Disaster

Time seemed to pass too quickly in the weeks after the omnic went missing. Her casts were removed and Hana was finally permitted to do her job again, staunching off attacks of the Gwishin and streaming it to the delight of her millions of fans all over the world. It was almost surprisingly easy for her to get back to her usual self since then, smiling pretty and just be 'D.Va'.

D.Va who has a bit of an attitude problem, who has no problem being toxic to some of her competitors ('git gud noob'), who will sometimes do 'trick shots' to fell an enemy while giggling and calling for F's in the chat.

Of course she's still a soldier at the end of the day. A defender for her country, someone her people, her city, can count on for protection. Ever since that night and her subsequent recovery, she's been on high alert, scouring the streets of Busan during patrols, a small pit of anger and betrayal lodging itself in her heart. Searching for any signs or hints to his whereabouts.

Why did he leave without a goodbye? Why did he attack Dae-Hyun? Questions she wouldn't ever be able to ask because even after all that time she had spent with the omnic, she never even learned his name. It clawed at her, and she'd lie awake in her bed at night, long after the others had fallen asleep, just wondering what became of him.

Dae-Hyun hadn't been hurt, but what provoked the omnic into knocking her best friend unconscious? She couldn't make any sense of it. It made her question if she had made the right choice of bringing him home that night.

A Ravager.

She had searched through archives to learn more about the R-7000s. Commanders for the omnic uprising during the Crisis. Omnics created for the sole purpose of leading others against humans. Until the Awakening.

"But he didn't seem like that..." she muttered to herself, holding her bunny pillow aloft her head and glaring at its cheerful face. Granted that she didn't know fully understand what the Awakening was. Just that one day, omnics were...different. No longer just bolts and circuits, but something more.

That omnic had been touched by it. She was sure of it. So why the needless aggression towards her friend? They had helped him, so why? Why?!

As she mulls over it in her head, circling around everything over and over, she is finally aware that someone is banging on her door. A small irritated noise leaves her mouth as Hana sets her bunny to the side and goes to see who is bothering her.

The face that greets her is Yuna's, looking exasperated. "The captain wants us in the briefing room. Ten minutes ago."

-

6 Months Later

The air in Cairo was dusty. He'd adjusted his cloak several times to prevent unwanted dust and sand particles from getting into his joints and wires. He had spent the last few months refitting himself as well as working on certain upgrades to better fit his vision for making the world a better place for his people.

He thought back to Mondatta and the monks of the Shambali and how they earnestly believed that with time, humans would come to understand them better. After his travels, Ramattra knew the truth. It was naught but a pipe dream.

Every place he has visited thus far on his journey has proved to him that humans weren't interested in making peace with their once terrorizers. In the past week alone he's had rocks thrown at him, some humans brave enough tried to attack him. Those he had dispatched quickly, leaving them face down on the dirt, just barely breathing. As a warning.

Never again will he fall to humans like he did in Busan.

The memory of that night has him curling his fingers tight around his new staff, and he willed himself to calm down, there was no need to think about the past. Only the future.

He is meeting with someone today. In the last month as he was trying to formulate a new plan, he had found a cryptic message lodged into his computers. At first Ramattra had been livid, determined to find out who had infiltrated his space, but once he read the note, he was intrigued to find out what this 'Talon' group wanted.

The name wasn't new to him, he knew that they were an organized group of humans bent on bringing chaos to the world. Their MO was that conflict is what made everyone stronger, and to a certain extent, Ramattra did agree with that sentiment.

So here he was, on the outskirts of Cairo, heading to the place where his creator had once been housed, the Temple of Anubis. He hadn't thought about the God AI in a while, but being here gives him pause for a moment.

Here is where the Omnic Crisis had started and here is where the seeds for Null Sector will be nurtured as well. The wind picks up and he finds himself adjusting his hooded cloak once more, until his fingers graze something on it that he had thought he had gotten rid of.

A pin with a bunny emblazed on it. Picking it off, the Ravager regarded it for a moment, thinking of its owner. How did she look when she saw he was gone? Upset that her little project had gotten away? Or had she been more concerned with the human guard he had left on the floor.

Rotating the pin between his fingers, he thought about throwing it away, it wasn't something he needed after all. It was a reminder of his time in that human's table, of him being helpless nd vulnerable. He should cast it aside.

Yet he doesn't.

The girl's face pops up from his memories, of her working on his body, promising him that she'll fix him. Of the time she tried to take the blame for something that she had no control over. Of her apologizing to him for what had happened to him.

It left him with...what was it that he was experiencing? It felt heavy. Unpleasant. It frustrates him because he can't quite put a name on it. His fingers close around the pin, careful not to crush it in his moment of frustration and hides it beneath the folds of his cloak once more.

There was no room to think about her. Not when his objective is standing in front of him, the setting sun shining over the large man's bald head.

The man doesn't face him just yet, still looking out of the alcove they are meeting in, just but a few steps away from the entrance to the Temple. It is another moment before he begins to speak.

"My friend," the man begins, his tone soft and coated in promise. "the world doesn't understand visionaries like us." He paused and took a deep breath. "I respect what you're trying to accomplish."

Ramattra remained silent, waiting for the man to continue, already not liking what the man was saying. It almost sounded condescending, in a careful way. He gives points for that.

"It's...noble and doomed to fail," and then he turns to face the omnic and had he been human, Ramattra thinks he might have held a surprised look on his face. He had heard of this man. Akande Ogundimu, better known to the world as the current Doomfist, and one of Talon's current leaders.

Interesting.

Doomfist continued on, removing his sunglasses to better see Ramattra. Face to face. "But with Talon's help...that can change."

Removing his hood, Ramattra inclined his head. "You have my attention." There was no need to second guess this opportunity. Because of his catastrophic failure in London, his forces had been greatly diminished. It had taken this long to get but a fraction of them back.

With Talon's...he hesitated on calling it 'help', with their resources, he could get back on track much faster than on his own.

"Good, good." Doomfist smiled, clearly pleased that this conversation was headed in a direction he wanted. "Let us discuss what your terms are and what we can provide. I trust that you will be pleased with what we can offer."

"That remains to be seen."

-

4 Months Later

"Is it just me or have the Gwishin been a lot more aggressive than usual?" Seung-hwa winced as he reclined his head on one of the many cushions that were housed within the common room of MEKA's base.

The others either groaned or sighed. Hana massaged her temples as she leaned into Yuna's shoulder, her eyes trained on the touchpad that her friend was holding in her hands. A news report about the growing activity of different omnic sects. Some peaceful, some not. The news report at the moment was praising MEKA for yesterday's battle. Though in Hana's opinion, it wasn't really something they should be praised for. It was their job and it felt like the media was treating them as if they were no more than actors in a play.

"From nearly bi-monthly attacks to almost every three days? No, you think?" Kyung-soo says dryly while taking a sip of his bottled water. It's a small repose they get to have in recent days. All five of them are tired, running on barely four hours of sleep.

The general vibe of the place is filled with uncertainty, as they reflect on how much more dangerous the Gwishin had become.

Next to King, Jae-un is lost in thought before he leans forward, a pensive look on his face. "It's like they are deliberately tiring us out or something..."

The other pilots look at each other, wearing varying looks of confusion. Hana finally looks away from the touchpad and clicks her tongue. "So they're getting more organized then? We've been fighting the grunts but we have yet to see the big guy show up. Something is definitely coming and we need to be ready. I'm going to go work on Tokki, see you guys."

Yuna squeezes her hand in support and tells her that she'll stop by later while the boys shrug and go back to watching the newsfeeds. Hana waves and slips out the door, her bottom lip caught on her teeth as she makes her way back to the hangars.

In her workshop, she finds Dae-Hyun there, speaking with one of the technicians. He raises his hand in a small wave to acknowledge her presence, which she returns before going straight to her mech, inspecting the large gashes on the front capsule. Not too bad, that can be buffed right out.

Not for a while though, it would take another few days for repairs so she moves to the next Tokki, one that she affectionally calls Midnight due to it's black exterior. This is the one she'll be using the next time there's trouble.

When that would be...she doesn't know. As the reports said, the Gwishin were growing more erratic. Their attacks were so sudden sometimes that their radar would detect them a little too late.

She frowns and tightens her hands into fists, angry that they could only do so much to protect Busan. And then Dae-Hyun is by her side, a supportive hand on her shoulder.

"Huh? Weren't you busy with....uhm," she can't recall the technician's name but she does notice that they are gone. "Oh."

He removes his hand and the warmth that was there disappears almost too quickly, but he smiles at her. "Just ordering more parts. We'll have them by tomorrow so you can use your favorite girl sooner than you think." He nods over to her bright pink mech and she laughs.

"The bestest girl! Number one!"

If only this moment could have lasted a little longer.

-

And a week later still...

Her conversation with the captain had been cut short by the blaring alarms. With a grim face, she practically sprinted back to Tokki, her fingers pulling at the gloves of her plugsuit. She's anxious, dreading the battle that is to come. All their mechs are starting to show signs of distress, repairs not happening fast enough and she worries that this next one could be one of their last.

Climbing in Tokki, she took a deep breath as she waited for clearance to launch. 'Ok Hana, you've got this. Kick butt as usual, save the city.'

-

"These aren't Gwishin!" Seung-hwa yells through their comms, his voice frantic over the sounds of battle. Ahead of him, Yuna blocks an attack and she turns to Hana, who loads up her defense matrix to delete the incoming barrage.

After three seconds, she maneuvers Tokki to a different position, eyes on the cooldown of the matrix while she patches in a call to the Captain. They need to get to the command ship that is floating overhead.

"Permission denied, Song. There are too many, and we do not have enough information about this enemy. You have to pull back!"

It leaves her staring at the screen blankly. Pull back? The city is under attack and the ship is within their sights! They can at least take it down and put a stopper on the attacks until reinforcements arrive.

"D.Va?"

Gritting her teeth, she suppresses her anger, teeth biting the inside of her cheeks and nods in understanding. "Yes, Ma'am."

The Captain signs off for the moment, leaving them with instructions to help evacuate the civilians while she tries to gather more info. Over the radio, the sounds of Casino and King fending off more drop pods can be heard, and Hana takes off, plowing into the side of a large enemy unit, setting it off balance.

In a second it regains its footing and turns its attention to her, twin barrels pointed at her. Hanna narrowed her eyes, her fingers gripping Tokki's controls, ready to fire.

"D.Mon, get everyone you can out of here!"

"I can't! The path's blocked by these guys."

Swearing a string of curses, Hana fired a barrage of micro missiles in the omnic's face, stunning it, and went back to help out her friend. Yuba's mech, Beast, was absolutely crawling with smaller omnics that reminded her of chickens. If chickens could fire lasers and were made of metal.

They were using those lasers to try and slice through Beast's outer armor and Hana swung Tokki's right arm and knocked them off. Yet no matter how many she fought off, it seemed like more and more took their place. Yuna was doing her best to keep them at bay as well, but it was clear that the slicers were going to overwhelm them soon.

"GET OFF HER YOU LITTLE-!" Hana's scream was cut short as what seemed like a flimsy bubble enveloped Beast, easily pushing all the little robots off of the mech. Hana looked around, trying to find who did this when she heard her communicator beeping. "Overlord?"

"Above! There's another ship!"

Another enemy? She looked up to see a much smaller ship hovering almost above their position, but rather than omnics dropping out of them, the hatch opened to reveal humans.

One of them called out as loudly as they could from the ship. 'We're Overwatch, we've come to help!'

[joeabdelsater2]

D'Adda's Ghibli-Style Mountain Village - Part 1

This post will explore the work done by Lara D'Adda, a 26-year-old art student at Howest DAE in Belgium. She shares her journey from fine arts to her new passion for 3D art, particularly in environment creation. She presents her most recent creation, the Stylized Mountain Village, which demonstrates her passion for creating landscapes evocative of Ghibli films. I find the breakdown of her process with this project exciting, particularly modelling and texturing, as I am looking to achieve a similar level of artistry in the future.

D'Adda's success depended on thorough planning and preparation. Before beginning the production process, she picked a concept art as a reference for her art and spent significant time evaluating it and finding the necessary assets and resources. The task was to dissect and understand the various components of her environment and what techniques she could use to create it. This initial phase, while admittedly messy and subject to change, served as a vital roadmap for the project's execution, providing her with a solid basis to ensure her vision had accuracy and clarity.

The artist moved on to the blockout stage after her planning phase, which was a critical step in realising her vision. When faced with the problem of reproducing a large town in a landscape that has height differences, Lara used a combination of simple blockouts for structures, and basic boxes for the terrain, an approach similar to ones I've analysed in previous blog posts. She says that this technique enabled her to imagine the arrangement of the scene, playing with angles, and height positions to capture the basic look of her concept. Furthermore, she saved fixed camera locations, allowing her to build main views and adjust her scene accordingly.

To set an initial ambiance and mood, Lara used a basic lighting setup that included a skylight with an HDRI and a directional light. This helped not only to supplied illumination, but also lay the platform for further lighting adjustments, ensuring a cohesive light and colour tone for the environment. Then the post-planning stage followed through, where she handled the modelling step systematically, starting with the design of numerous general components that would serve as the basis for the village houses. Drawing inspiration from the concept, Lara chose to create assets that can be constructed modularly, using beams to form several sets of walls, a practical and efficient solution. This sped up the modeling process, and gave her the freedom to effortlessly exchange pieces when needed, increasing the overall flexibility of the objects.

The size and pivot of the walls and windows were standardised, ensuring continuity and cohesiveness throughout the production of the scene. This simple detail not only made modifications easier, but it also added to the buildings' overall visual coherence in terms of proportion which is a main factor of good composition. Lara used a smart way to create the roofs as well, starting with a flat plane mesh and then carefully adding extruded tiles to give more volume and geometry to them. Similarly, she used the same method to increase the three-dimensionality of the brick walls and chimneys, by inserting single bricks into the wall plane to create shadows and depth. I like this type of mixed approach since it helped keep the assets optimised while faking a complex mesh topology.

Initially, Lara struggled with the overwhelming task of organising the texturing process. Nonetheless, drawing inspiration from tutorials and her own creative ideas, she turned to Substance 3D Designer where she built basic materials for plaster, bricks, and roofing, which helped establish a uniform style that would be portrayed in the entire village environment. After importing her materials into Unreal Engine, she began developing master materials to maintain the uniformity and flexibility she had previously set. Lara's technique revolved around the use of blend nodes and masks in UE to give her materials some depth and complexity, a method I have yet to learn. Blend Overlay and noise textures were used to add subtle colour and texture variations, which contributed to believability and authenticity.

One unique feature of Lara's approach was her emphasis on reusability and efficiency. By multiplying instances for the various houses and using a modular approach to shader generation, she gained better productivity without losing visual identity. Furthermore, her attention to detail extended to the incorporation of moss, a minor element that helped create a rustic natural beauty in the village. Using a gradient from the bottom to the top of each mesh and noise textures for variation, Lara created a realistic depiction of moss development, a technique that is also used for grass and other types of foliage in games.

Reference:

Lara D'adda. (2023). Making a Ghibli-Inspired Mountain Village in Unreal Engine 5. 80.lv [e-journal] Available at: https://80.lv/articles/making-a-ghibli-inspired-mountain-village-in-unreal-engine-5/

[pillowfriends]

TSR new reader thoughts: chapters 16-20

Chapter 16: Leavetakings

Faile and Perrin are both being stupid but I blame Perrin more. no one in this series has a teaspoon of emotional intelligence.

oh shit, speaking of - Lan is angry angry. :0 does he really want to leave Moiraine for Nynaeve?? sir I am watching you. that entire scene was hilarious though - Lan violently making out with Nynaeve, Elayne watching avidly, Lan being all poetic.

You have made a place in my heart where I thought there was no room for anything else. You have made flowers grow where I cultivated dust and stones. Remember this, on this journey you insist on making. If you die, I will not survive you long.

like hello??? ok Shakespeare.

Chapter 17: Deceptions

most of my reactions to this chapter are spoilery and will be below the cut at the end of this post. I like how Thom thinks he could ever have the upper hand with Moiraine. keep dreaming bitch, she's been playing daes dae'mar since the womb.

I'm so repulsed by people calling Min "little girl." ew. also pour one out for Siuan, she might actually have the hardest job in the entire world. not only does she have to deal with 5000 global crises at the same time, the Tower politics are enough to make anyone crazy.

RIP Sahra

Chapter 18: Into the Ways

Perrin and Faile's dynamic is kind of hilarious rn. "I will not leave him. Not even if he is yet too stubborn and foolish to ask a simple favor. Should that be the case, he may still follow me like a lost puppy. I promise to scratch his ears and take care of him." The only way I'm getting through the casual sexism in these books is by laughing about it.

Loial is such a good bro. nothing else to say about this chapter.

Chapter 19: The Wavedancer

so much worldbuilding in this chapter it hurt my head, both about Tear and about the Sea Folk (not even bothering to spell the other name bc I keep getting it wrong). so many prophecies!! it's very cool.

I love Elayne's meltdown seeing a woman's boobs. certified bisexual moment. also love Elayne and Nynaeve's relationship, it feels very "sisters who antagonize the shit out of each other but love each other deeply" to me.

Chapter 20: Winds Rising

Thom is annoying me but whatever. I guess he's on the boat now, sure, fine. I think his relationship dynamic with Elayne/the dramatic irony of her not knowing is kind of dumb and not fun to read.

Elayne boob meltdown part 2, you love to see it. also seeing the Sea Folk channeling was cool.

there's a quote I was going to include in this post, Elayne thinking/talking about Moiraine and Rand's fate, but it's making me too crazy and I think it needs to be its own post. I'll link it here later.

< last | next >

SPOILER THOUGHTS FOR FUTURE BOOKS BELOW

okayyyy so... I learned pretty early on that Thom and Moiraine end up in a romantic relationship. my sapphic Moiraine-loving self was not very pleased about this, and I really hate to say it, but like... I can kind of see it. I like how Thom has a network of informants and is sneaky about getting information and pulling strings, just like Moiraine is.

also Moiraine going in for the leg touch/Healing? bold move and I respect it. I assume she was being a little flirty to destabilize him, and it worked, so good for her.

I guess, TLDR, I'm not entirely opposed and I could see their relationship being set up in a sort of satisfactory way. it's not as random as I thought at first.

[nijjhar]

John, the Baptist was Prophet Elijah (My god is Yahweh) and He served th... John, the Baptist was Prophet Elijah (My god is Yahweh) and He served the Holy Spirit with no family ties. He was the "Cornerstone" of the Temple of Yahweh where Judas Iscariot threw the 30 Shackles. https://youtu.be/917m_8Mi52Q HOLY GOSPEL OF OUR SUPERNATURAL FATHER ELOHIM, ALLAH, PARBRAHM, ETC., DELIVERED BY THE FIRST ANOINTED CHRIST, WHICH IN PUNJABI WE CALL SATGURU JESUS OF THE HIGHEST LIVING GOD ELOHIM THAT DWELLS WITHIN HIS MOST BEAUTIFUL LIVING TEMPLE OF GOD CREATED BY THE GREATEST ARTIST DEMIURGE POTTER, THE LORD OF THE NATURE YAHWEH, BRAHMA, KHUDAH, ETC. AND IT IS CALLED HARMANDIR OR “EMMANUEL” ACCORDING TO SAINT LUKE 1,57-66. WHEN THE TIME ARRIVED FOR ELIZABETH TO HAVE HER CHILD SHE GAVE BIRTH TO A SON. HER NEIGHBORS AND RELATIVES HEARD THAT THE LORD HAD SHOWN HIS GREAT MERCY TOWARD HER, AND THEY REJOICED WITH HER. WHEN THEY CAME ON THE EIGHTH DAY TO CIRCUMCISE THE CHILD, THEY WERE GOING TO CALL HIM ZECHARIAH AFTER HIS FATHER, BUT HIS MOTHER SAID IN REPLY, "NO. HE WILL BE CALLED JOHN." BUT THEY ANSWERED HER, "THERE IS NO ONE AMONG YOUR RELATIVES WHO HAS THIS NAME." SO THEY MADE SIGNS, ASKING HIS FATHER WHAT HE WISHED HIM TO BE CALLED. HE ASKED FOR A TABLET AND WROTE, "JOHN IS HIS NAME," AND ALL WERE AMAZED. IMMEDIATELY HIS MOUTH WAS OPENED, HIS TONGUE FREED, AND HE SPOKE BLESSING GOD. MATT. 19V12:- “FOR THERE ARE EUNUCHS WHO WERE BORN SO FROM THEIR MOTHER'S WOMB, THEY ARE BASTARDS BORN OF THE PROSTITUTE CALLED MUSTARD SEED AND THEY COULD BECOME SAINTS AND THERE ARE EUNUCHS WHO BECAME EUNUCHS BY MEN – THESE ARE SONS OF AL-DJMAR AL-KUBRA AND AL-AKSA, THE RELIGIOUS “SALTLESS” FANATIC DEVILS, THE JEW OUTWARDLY WHO KILLED JESUS AND THERE ARE THOSE WHO HAVE MADE THEMSELVES EUNUCHS FOR THE CAUSE OF THE ROYAL KINGDOM OF ELOHIM, WHERE YOUR TRIBAL IDENTITY DOESN’T COUNT. SO, JOHN WAS OF THE LAST TYPE WITH NO TRIBAL IDENTITY. WHOEVER CAN RECEIVE IT LET HIM RECEIVE IT.” THEN FEAR CAME UPON ALL THEIR NEIGHBORS, AND ALL THESE MATTERS WERE DISCUSSED THROUGHOUT THE HILL COUNTRY OF JUDEA. ALL WHO HEARD THESE THINGS TOOK THEM TO HEART, SAYING, "WHAT, THEN, WILL THIS CHILD BE?" FOR SURELY THE HAND OF THE LORD WAS WITH HIM. Hajj is for 12 to 16-year-old boys to establish their tribal covenants with their fathers Ilahs. https://youtu.be/Cs7Qvoeu_Nc Two Hajjs; one of Adam to be faithful to your tribal Ilah =Qabeela - Ba-Ilah, Shariatt and the other of Allah within your own heart of Tarikatt. That is Ba-Ilah = faithful to your tribal father for Heeya = Nasiff Eemaan and Ba-Allah of heart = Sealed to serve One Supernatural Father Allah of our souls to become a Mussallmaan, the son of Allah - The journey of Meeraaj from Kabah to Al-Aksa. https://youtu.be/624vEZLADSQ REAL SHARIAH-FREE ISLAM OF ALLAH - NOOR Kabah is the Temple of Adam. The Temple of Jesus is called Yahshua; Yah = Yahweh and Shua = Shiva = Primal Adam. There were well over 365 Ilah. But our Supernatural Father Al-Ilah, The Father, is just the opposite. He was not created by people but He is Self-Existent of His own Authority. In the Fake Islam of Al-Djmar Al-Alksa, the Mullahs are of Satan. Here is the Real Islam of Allah, Sun, that is Free of Shariah and Law - Luke 16v16; Law and Prophets were till John, the Baptist. No prayer and fasting in Allah, Al-ilah, The Supernatural spiritual Father, Abba, that his sons and He is the Primary Source of "NOOR" and He is in our hearts but in Ilah, the tribal god created by men that are mythologically called Yahweh, Brahma, Khuda, etc. and he is in heaven, alienated from us. Allah is called Elohim, ParBrahm, etc. which is purely Spirit, NOOR. Awall Allah Noor Opaayia; Kudratt dae sabhh Bandae - Aik Noor tae Sabhh Jaghh opgiyia; kaun Bhhallae Kaun Mandae. Hazrat Mian Mir Ji was NOT Hazrat but a Humble Servant of Allah called "GURMUKH SIKH". Gurmukh Sikh = Mussallmaan. Most of the Mohammedans are not Muslims but Kafirs if they have no Heeya, the Foundation of Islam and they are not truthful, contented and merciful. Kafirs are sons of Al-Djmar Al-Aksa and they are ruining Syria and other countries. NO PROPHET AFTER JOHN IN THE PROMISED LAND – LUKE 16V16; LAW AND PROPHETS END TILL JOHN. Your own choice; Inshmullah Islam of Shia/Sunni Shariah or Inshallah; Sufi Islam of Noor “Free of Shariah”? The real Islam is of Allah, the Sun, the Primary Source of Light called NOOR. This Moon and Star Islam of Mullahs, Inshmullah, is of the Satan called Al-Djmar Al-Aksa and it is bearing fruits in Shia and Sunni of men and not of Allah. Real Islam is of “ba ilah” or be the son of Man or of the tribal natural father, Bande da Puttar to “Ba Al-Ilah”, our Supernatural Father “Allah” Noor who is not Shia or Sunni. La-Ilah stands for no more the son of the tribal father but of the Al-Djmar Al-Aksa; Islam is of Satan and that is why they keep Kabah, “Temple of Shiv or Adam” to their left hand while going around for seven.........

[daedreamz239]

INTRO

Hey Y’all

I made this page long ago but haven’t posted anything. Time to change that!

I’m Dae (She/They) 27yr old Black, Queer, Polyam and Neurodivergent Cat lady I want to share my experiences and hopefully write a book one day. Come read comment and share this journey with me ❤️

[stumpyshocky]

Alright i finished the 1st seasons, here are my unwanted thoughts.

Overall 6/10

Likes

✔ zuko & iroh. I love their relationship. I want a whole show of just them putting around. I also enjoyed Junes interaction with Iroh. Shes just tryna hustle, i feel, but turning it to her flirting with him was great.

✔ sokka. Hes so funny i love it.

✔ how they touched on war and how people without the avatar had to survive. I like the change to Bumi. Hes right, Aang wasnt around and he needs to learn to make hard choices. Bumi was hurt being left behind. He made choices towards Aang out of anger and hurt.

✔ seeing daniel dae kim shirtless

✔ i liked seeing both katara and sokka in the spirit world.

✔ Yue was a delight. Funny and strong. Her wig leaves much to be desired but i liked her.

✔ Aang Kaiju was amazing. I felt its dispair, loved the effects. Loved the finality of there is no avatar anymore.

Dislikes (dislike is a strong word so mayhaps just not feeling it is better)

✖ katara & aang's actors. Aang is better, but both seems so young and unsure about themselves. Katara got better as the season progressed but I wish we got to see her fiery side.

✖ aang not learning a lick of waterbending (& Pakku looks fking ridiculous, actors face was not made for that hairstyle). I mean I never cared about him learning waterbending or the elements, i know thats his journey but i did enjoy them focusing on his other duties.

✖ Pakku & Katara. We didnt see her 'master' her element. Then shes titled master. This is bc we need filler episodes, just one. A day in the life of the Gaang would be great. Her and Aang training.

✖ fuck the creators for that scare with momo.

✖ fuck them for making me cry like a bitch with Iroh.

My most controversial opinion

Im glad katara wasnt in the secret tunnel with aang. I dont care about shipping, not in one camp or the other, but he is so young and i think its good they stepped back from that romance. Her and sokka make sense, they had been fighting and they needed to see that love is above all else and they are there for each other. Now, would I mind a zuko x katara romance? Hmm. Its plausible. But again I dont really care.

All in all, i had fun watching it and will give it a rewatch. I hope they make a 2nd and 3rd season. Its not like the animated version, but still good and can only grow.

I do enjoy the new LA ATLA show. Its really fun and I loved seeing Kyoshi in action. Im only 2 episodes in but im having a blast. Cried several times in the first episode.

Yess its rough, child actors are not too great, but it can only get better and I hope it makes it to the 3rd season.

Sokka ✔✔

Kyoshi ✔✔✔

Suki ✔🥺 awkward baby

Aang ✔👉👈🥺baby

Katara 👍 struggles with acting but doing good

Zuko ✔✔✔✔✔

Iroh 🍵🍵🍵🍵

Zhao ✔ hes actually really good

[introvertbard]

More thoughts about Raya and the Last Dragon

I'm starting to see posts about #RayaAndTheLastDragon make the rounds with some Southeast Asians, and here's my thoughts as a Filipino-American:

1) THE DRAGON LOOKS LIKE ELSA. As far as I know, none of the Southeast Asian dragons have that much fur. As I mentioned in my other complaining post: If they have those snow-leopard/puma-looking mounts that are perfectly regal and intimidating, why not use BIG-CATS for your dragon design, instead of... like, the art designer's little housecat??? 2) DISNEY SHOULD NOT BE USING A CRAPTON OF EAST ASIAN ACTORS FOR A SOUTHEAST ASIAN MOVIE. Even without Awkwafina's issues, I saw Daniel Dae Kim, Sandra Oh, and Gemma Chan in the main cast and I went "ohhhhhh no. Kelly Marie Tran is the token Southeast Asian lead in a movie ABOUT fantasy-Southeast-Asia. NOT GOOD, DISNEY." If they have all that money and they reveled in that whole squad of researchers for Moana, why the fuck did they backslide fifty years and go "well, they're all Asian, nobody's gonna notice! WE NEED BIG NAMES FOR OUR BIG MOVIE, LOLOLOL." And yeah, I know there's lots of SEA folks with ambiguous names (Kelly Marie among them), but the main cast is FULL of those and I am not giving Disney the benefit of the doubt that they all just HAPPEN to be SEA folks with nice, compact one- or two-syllable names. Guess which actors suddenly start sounding like TROPICAL BROWN ASIANS??? The ones who play the bit parts, that's who. “But you got Kelly Marie Tran, who else do you want???” Maybe like... the five other lead roles that you gave to East Asian actors??? While I'm on "East Asian versus Southeast Asian," the dragon's name is Sisu and people remarked that it sounds extremely East Asian. Here's some Philippine names for our dragons: -LAHO. A sea-dragon/serpent who causes eclipses ("laho" does in fact mean "eclipse" in Tagalog). He was so entranced by the moon that he jumped from the ocean's depths and tried to eat it. While he is said to be a "god," he acts more like a wild animal--his motive is "MOON SHINY, I EAT!" and human issues such as "we like to see at night" and "the moon controls the tides," and sometimes "THE MOON IS A GODDESS, BRO!!!" don't concern him. The myth doesn't tell you to appease him with offerings or even fight him like a god, either, you just scare him off like a huge version of the neighbor's dog who got loose: Scream and bang on things until he goes home. He has several other not-names--two are "Nono" or "Buwaya," which just mean "ancestor" and "crocodile" respectively. Another Tagalog account calls him Sawa, which means "giant python/boa," compared to the common word for snake as "ahas." -THE BAKUNAWA is Laho's Visayan counterpart, who ate SIX OTHER MOONS before mortals scared him off. Like Laho, the Bakunawa doesn't actually have a name, more like a descriptor/title; "bakunawa" means "bent serpent” and is most often used as “THE Bakunawa.” In some versions, the Bakunawa eats the moon(s) in revenge, after mortal hunters killed his sea-turtle sister. -BUWAYA/BUAYA. Yes, it's "crocodile" in Tagalog. Dragons and crocodiles were seen as close cousins by many precolonial tribes, and Tagalogs apparently used the word interchangeably for both creatures. There was a Tagalog psychopomp called "THE Buwaya," distinct from Laho, who seemed fairly positive since he ferried our dead souls to the afterlife on his back. Also, we needed that help because the way to the afterlife was a dangerous sea-journey in varying directions, like "east where there's no known land," or "up to the sky-world," or "down to the bottom of the ocean." -ULILANG KALULUWA. This dragon has an actual name, and he introduced himself and everything! His name means "Orphaned Spirit." He's a sky-dragon who found the Tagalog creator-god Bathala Maykapal wandering in the barren islands before the world had people, but he was angered at the potential rival to rule the world. They both made claims and fought for possession of it, but Ulilang lost and got killed. Many years later, Bathala's friend Galang Kaluluwa took ill and asked to be buried with Ulilang Kaluluwa, since they were both of the sky-tribe and therefore kinsmen; their bodies created the first coconut tree. Galang Kaluluwa was humanoid, but able to fly and sometimes said to be winged; the spirit tribes seem to align more to "elements" than "species." (Note, I use "friend” loosely because that’s the Christianized version of his relationship with Bathala, but that’s not the point of this post.) -TANDAYAG. Currently means "whale" in Tagalog, but I found some unexpected new information on Wikipedia! Some Palawan people have a myth of their own Tandayag: A great fish, dragon, OR whale, who closes the navel of the world under the sea. If angered by something and not appeased in time, Tandayag may open the world's navel and drown us all in the flood. Noticing a theme? A theme with little fur, who’s prone to anger of the world-ending kind, and has exactly one out of five “names that you’d call people?” Now there are certainly dragons who aren't as powerful as the ones I mentioned; the vast majority of "dragons" in the pre-Catholic Philippines were the ancestors of a ruling clan and their village(s), or regional nature-spirits that people would meet up with on adventures. I actually would have liked the concept of Sisu's self-esteem issues as a minor dragon who’s now expected to rescue/find her lost big-name brethren.

Like, she probably just chilled out at Lake Nowhere, somehow it turned into a city (because she’s immortal and doesn’t realize five hundred years is a LONG TIME for humans, after all), and now everyone thinks she’s a level 10 dragon who causes floods and hurricanes when her actual jobs are still boring, regular LOGISTICS stuff like helping the fishermen for a cut of the haul, scooping folks up when their boat tips over, and checking on the rice paddies.

But uhhhhhh... stories like this in Western society tend to go "WOW, YOU DID SOMETHING HUGE AND WORLD-SAVING! Turns out you ARE ridiculously powerful!" instead of "WOW, YOU USED YOUR MODERATE SKILLS IN CREATIVE WAYS!"

[colormeyondublue]

Chapter 4: First Date

Chapter 3 Here - Chapter 5 Here

The next morning came and you went about your business as usual, making sure everything was in top shape in your office. If your work was coming in slow without much needing done, you often just checked to see if anyone needed help with anything, played games, or jammed out to whatever music was on. This time, you found yourself getting lost in your thoughts. It had been a long time since you were home. You found yourself not thinking much about your family or old friends recently. But somehow, it didn’t bother you. You felt like you were home. You couldn’t tell if you should feel guilty for feeling that way…but it was the truth. Although you definitely missed your family at times, this whole journey seemed to change who you were as a person.

Meanwhile, Yondu was pacing in his cabin. He asked you on a date, and he had no idea what to do. He hasn’t really dated, or courted, in years. Besides that, he’s never taken a terran out before! He decided to call someone for help. The last thing he wanted to do was get anyone else involved, but Tullk was someone he could trust. He picked up his communicator and pressed a few buttons. The comm beeped and he heard Tullk’s voice. “Yeah, Cap’n? What canneh dae fer ya?” “Uhh, this might sound strange, but could ya come to ma quarters? I need your help with somethin’.” He could hear Tullk hesitate. But then he said, “Ya, sure boss. I’ll be up in just a bit.” The comm clicked off, and Yondu walked to his desk chair and sat down with a huff. He was asking for help. This was unbelievable. “I can’t believe this girl has gotten into my head already.” He muttered to himself. A little while later, there was a loud knock at his door. “Get in here Tullk!” Tullk walked in the room and closed the door behind him. “What did ya need, sir?” He asked nonchalantly. “Well, this ain't easy to ask but, ya got any datin’ advice?” “Datin’ advice? Ya got a lass yer interested in?” “Well, yeah! Otherwise, I wouldn’t have asked!” “Well…its been quite a while since I took a nice lass out. She’s nice is she?” Tulk asked. “Of course she’s nice! She’s damn near perfect. She’s sweet and funny…and smart, and I just wanna show her a good time.” Tullk was surprised to hear his Captain use words like that. He was typically crass, rude, and a straight forward kind of guy. But everyone deserves to be loved, or at least have a chance at love, right? “So you wanna know what to do? On this date? Well…I only know about terran dates. I’m not sure what other races might do fer that kinda’ thing.” The Captain glared at him. “She IS terran ya idiot. That’s why I asked for yer help!” “Yer goin out with a terran lass? But, how? Where did ya meet a -… OH!” A devious grin appeared on Tullk’s face at the realization. “Choose yer next words carefully.” Yondu growled. Tullk let out a boisterous laugh. “You’re takin y/n out on a date? I can’t believe it!” Yondu began to grow an odd mixture of embarrassed and angry. “Yeah! I’m takin y/n out. Ya got a problem with that?!” “No, no, sir. I just honestly didn’t think she’d go for any of us. I’m not laughin’ atcha. I’m just…surprised – is all.” Tullk said with a shrug. “Well, believe it. So shut up and tell me what I need to do fer this to go right.” “Well, it’s pretty simple really. What I always keep in mind, as a Terran man, is to just be maself. Don’t try to be something you’re not, because them Terran lasses will see right through it. Trust me. Terran girls like to go out and just have a nice time. Food, drink, and good company. Don’t be lookin’ or flirtin’ with other women, or she’ll walk right outta there. Think ya can handle that?” He asked with one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, yeah, I figured that much. Is that all?” “That’s about all the advice I have. Just relax and have a nice time.” Tullk stands upright from where he was leaning on the wall by the door. “Need anything else Cap’n? He asks. “Nah, just don’t say a word to the crew!”

"Ah never do!" Tullk shouted back toward the door as he walked away.

___ The ship begins to near it’s destination, Johpar. Yondu is dressed in relaxed black leather pants, with his usual maroon long coat. The handkerchief tucked in his collar is a dark black, to match his matte black boots. The boots are adorned with a narrow gold metal strip at the edge of his toe. The gold matches his belt buckle and ravager badge. He made sure to trim and shape his beard nicely before heading down to the docking bay to meet you. As he comes in, he looks around to see if you had arrived yet. To his surprise, you weren’t there. “She’s probably just gettin’ dolled up is all.” He mutters to himself. The thought of you getting all dressed up for him makes his heart do a little backflip. “The hell?” He whispers as he lifts a hand to his chest. “That’s new.” Just as the words left his lips, he sees you. You cautiously walk into the docking bay. You were wearing a casual tan and black patterned dress, quarter sleeves, that tapers at your waist, and comes down mid thigh. You’re also wearing knee high lace up high heel boots with some black laced stockings just barely visible between the bottom of your dress and the tops of your boots. Your hair is done in a half updo. You’re holding a black leather jacket over your shoulder and glance around the room. The last thing you want is a bunch of grimy ravagers sneering at you. To your relief, there was no one around – but Yondu. You lock eyes with him and your step falters.  Wow, as if I wasn’t nervous before. You try to keep your composure as you approach him. He looks you up and down and visibly swallows. “Ya look real nice.” He said. “Thank you.” You answered with a slight blush. “You clean up pretty nice yourself.” “Well thanks, sweetheart. If yer ready, we’ll head out.” and jabs a thumb toward the bay door. The two of you walk together off the ship and quietly chit chat until you reach the rows of shops and bars. You both walk into the bar and notice it isn’t particularly busy. Yondu offers to get you a drink. “What’ll ya have darlin’”? You think about it for a moment, and realize you have no idea. Last time you ordered a drink was back on Earth. Sure, there was always beer and whiskey on the ship, but that was getting old. You decide to play it safe with a glass of wine. “Any kind of sweet wine. I’m not picky.” You smile up at him and he gives you a polite nod. “Go have a seat there in that booth, and I’ll meet you over there.”

“Okay!” You respond with a sweet smile.

He watches you make your way to the booth, noting the way your hips move as you walk. His mind goes blank for a few seconds, your legs and ass are hypnotizing. You turn to seat yourself in the booth and notice that he’s staring. You blush and smile at him. With a small wave of your hand, he snaps out his trance, and heads to the bar. His cheeks are flushed.

Upon getting drinks for the two of you, Yondu plops down in the booth across the table from you. He slides your wine to you, and you take it from him with a gentle, “Thank you.”

“So,” Yondu begins. “You been on my ship for a couple a month’s now, how’s Ravager life treatin’ ya? Better than you thought I hope?”

You take a sip of your wine and shrug timidly, “It’s definitely better than where I came from. But, my story is pretty much the same as any terran or human that ends up way out here.” “Traffickers?” Yondu says with what looks like a little sadness in his eyes. “Yeah, traffickers.” “How old were ya?” He asks. “Honestly, it wasn’t too long ago. Few years maybe? I was on a camping trip with my family. We were way out in the Ozarks when they took me. We were camped in the mountains, a fairly thick wooded place surrounded by rivers and glens. My family used to camp there every summer and I always got up with the sun when we would camp. I’ll never forget it…I got up that morning, put on a tank top, shorts, and my hiking boots and went down to the river just to breathe in the morning. I thought I was completely alone until I heard some gravel on the bank crunch behind me. I turned and expected to see a deer or another hiker or something. But I saw a strange figure. Next thing I know, everything is black. I woke up on a strange ship hearing voices that didn’t make sense. Eventually I put two and two together.” “I’m sorry.” Is all Yondu could say. He understood how horrible that might have been. He recalls his years aboard slave ships. “It’s okay. I think I was on that ship for about 6 months before they sold me to someone else. The ones who gave me a translator implant had green skin and pointed ears. Skrull maybe? I don’t know. Then they stopped on Krylor one day. I saw it as a window of opportunity, so I took it. The Skrull were a bit more flexible or lenient than the ones who took me, so I had a chance to run. I hid for 3 days before coming across that pawn shop. Worked there as cheap labor for a few years. Then I met you.” You smile at the memory of first seeing Yondu at your old job. “And then you met me.” Yondu returned your smile. Although he hasn’t mentioned it, he thinks you have the most adorable smile. The way it makes your eyes sparkle and come to life is something he’s never seen in any other woman. He continued, “Well, I’m sure glad yer here…despite what ya been through.” “Honestly, me too. I mean sure, I miss my family. I hate to think that they’re heartbroken over me. I’m sure they are. Especially my mom and sister. I don’t even want to imagine how they felt when I disappeared.” Your face turned solemn. “What about yer daddy?” Yondy asked quietly. "Oh, he died. He passed away about a year before I was taken. It makes me sick to think to think about how much my family has lost. Dad…then me. Problem is, they know what happened to dad. He got cancer...but I just vanished.” You dropped your gaze to the table. The date started to take a really depressing turn. Yondu thought quickly to change the subject. He wanted you to have a good time, after all. Yondu reached out across the table and gently placed a couple fingers under your chin. He lifts your gaze to meet his and said, “You ain’t alone. Most of us on this crew have a similar story. We been stolen, sold, lost people, seen death…we got each other though. You’re in good company.” His gentle and genuine smile spreads to your face and you simply nod without another word. “You hungry? We could get somethin’ here or we could swing by another place.” “Honestly, unless you are….I’m really not that hungry. But I would like to take a walk and look around this place a little bit?” “Sure thing darlin’. Anything you want.” As you get up and leave the bar, Yondu leaves a stack of units at the table. You walk out of the bar with your Captain in toe behind you. “Besides, I can’t really eat much when I’m nervous anyway.” Nervous?  Yondu thought. Why is she nervous? She ain’t scared of me is she? “Nervous?” He asked warily. “Well, not like a bad nervous. Like a good nervous.” You assure him. “There such a thing as ‘good nervous’”? He laughs. “Well, yeah.” You said shyly. “There’s good nervous and bad nervous. Bad nervous is self-explanatory. But good nervous is…well…” You trailed off as you walked through the brightly lit streets with Yondu. There were colorful shops everywhere. Stores were selling various items like clothing, food, jewelry and gifts from various planets. “Oh, I got it! Okay, there is a creature on my planet called a butterfly. They’re hard to describe unless I could draw you a picture of one, but they have wings. They’re very gentle and delicate. Good nervous feels like having butterflies in your stomach. It’s like a fluttery feeling. It’s a good thing!” You smile at him. Yondu just smiles to himself and looks down toward his boots while shaking his head. This girl is somethin’ else. The rest of your evening is spent wandering around the shops looking at interesting items and relishing in sights you’ve never seen before. Eventually, you end up in a part of the district that is pretty quiet. You find a bench near a fountain and sit together looking out at Krylor. “It’s so beautiful. I’ve never been on a moon before…this really is amazing. I never thought all this could be on a moon. Our moon back home is small and desolate. My people have visited it a few times, but there’s nothing up there.” “Ya know, yer really pretty when yer face lights up like that. I been a lotta places and met a lotta different people, and nobody cares about stuff like you do. I hafta say, I really like that about ya.” He says quietly. You smile, and blush lightly at his comment. You both continue talking about nothing in particular for a while. Yondu loves listening to you talk about your home, or anything you find interesting. You’re so bright and happy when you speak. You carry a light with you wherever you go. A light that, he now realizes, he would follow anywhere. As you arrive back to the ship later that night, Yondu walks you back to your cabin with your jacket slung over his shoulder. As you tell him goodnight and thank him for a wonderful evening, he says he had a great time too. He takes your hand and leans in to gently kiss the top of it. “Goodnight, y/n.” He hands you your jacket, smiles at you one last time, and casually swaggers toward his quarters.

You’ve kept your composure until now. You scurry into your cabin, slam the door shut behind you and lean up against it – breathing heavily. “Ohh my gosh. Ohh my gosh okay. OOHkay. Wow…that just happened.” You can’t stop smiling and get ready for bed. Finally, you throw yourself into your bed with a long sigh. You fall asleep almost immediately, only to find your Captain in your dreams. Yondu enters his quarters and just stands there, staring off into space. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, his breathing is heavy. After what feels like ages, he finally begins to undress himself for bed. He can’t get you off his mind. Your smile, that dress, your voice, your eyes…all flicker through his mind. “So, this is love. Huh. Ain’t so bad.” He smiles and snuggles down into his furs and blankets and drifts into a peaceful sleep.

[anamsgith]

-= 19 - Soul =-

[ Tw: dysphoria ]

It had been six moons now since Rhes had welcomed his newest Ward into his care. A bright young man named Seoras whose image was every bit the opposite of Rhes' own; dark skin instead of ashen, vibrant auburn hair instead of gray and deep hazel eyes that made Rhes think of an excited cat. Seoras was lanky, his movements showing a care that few youngsters grasped this early on. He'd managed to sneak up on Rhes several times and that was impressive in itself.

But lately the young man hadn't been quite himself.

Where there had been excitement in learning the skills and ways of being a Warder was now replaced with hesitance. The constant questions to learn the why of the things outside the village had gone silent. Even the young man's usually smiling eyes had gone flat and often downcast.

He was not himself.

"Here, kid." Rhes spoke up as they prepared the stone border for their campfire. He was careful to keep his tone of voice calm. "Y'daein' aricht? Ye've no quite been yersel' this last wee while. Some'hin' botherin' ye?"

Those hands hovered over the rock that had just been placed and it took Seoras quite some time before he actually spoke. When he did it was hesitant and- if Rhes was hearing correctly- fearful?

"Do you ever… Hmn." Seoras paused, starting again. "When you lookit your hands, do they ever... feel… not yours?"

Now it was Rhes' turn to pause, placing down the rock he held but keeping his hand on it. His brow drew down into a soft frown.

"Naw, can't say I've ever experienced tha' one. Y'feelin' okay?"

"Yes… and also no? It's like… lately I don't feel like me? I-I know that I'm me- that I'm here and alive- but my… me? It feels wrong somehow. That probably doesn't make sense…"

Seoras was right. To Rhes it wasn't really making much sense. How could someone not feel like themself? Sure, there were days when inner sadness could overwhelm and make someone feel like they weren't real, but his intuition told him that wasn't quite what Seoras meant.

"Ye mean like yer possessed or some'hin'? Or y'feel like yer in a walkin' dream?"

The young man shook his head as Rhes prodded, sitting back on his heels and forgetting about the rocks for now. His body had relaxed and the note of fear was almost completely gone. Once the words begun they didn't seem to stop. Whatever Seoras needed to figure out, it had clearly been haunting him for some time now.

"No quite? It's… It's like when ye dream of being someone else, yeah? One of those long dreams that when ye wake up it takes a bit to shake the feelin' of being that other person. Only… that feelin' hasn't gone away. It's got stronger. So this," Seoras brought his hands up to tap gingerly against his chest, "feels… wrong."

Finally, Rhes' brain managed to piece together what that possibly could mean. His eyes looked over his Ward in a new light and he, too, sat back and ignored the firepit for the moment.

"I think I getcha. Lemme ask ye some'hin' then, kid; d'ye miss th'village? Is this life no fer you?" When Seoras went to object, Rhes rose a hand. "Aye, I ken, boys cannae stay there, but entertain th'thought. If ye coul' go back, live that life wi' th'women, woul' ye wannae?"

Seoras fell silent. The frown that he had placed on the half built firepit was so intense it might have bored through the rock if he kept on for long enough. Eventually, he nodded, and Rhes gently asked his next question.

"An' when ye think've that scenario, in yer heid how dae y'dress…?"

Seoras turned to simply stare at him. Those hazel eyes were wide enough to swallow Rhes whole. Though his mouth worked, no sound came out. And none were necessary. That expression told Rhes everything he needed to know.

He remembered once, when he was still very young, of a Warden returning with their Ward. The youngster had been crying, but the adults had been smiling and when Rhes had asked his mother about it later she had simply said, "They understand who they are now."

He hadn't understood back then. It wasn't until many summers later when he met that same Ward, transformed, as she handed Kosve over to him that those words finally made sense. That what was inside sometimes didn't match the outside. That sometimes Wards would come back before a full summer and the next day the women would have another pair of hands join theirs. Or one of the older Warden's would appear outwith the gathering time and leave with a Ward no one had seen before but was too old to have gone unnoticed.

And there was no shame in that.

"Dae me a favour, wee yin," Rhes spoke quickly, the tone of his voice back to normal conversation in order to jolt Seoras back out of their mind. "I'll finish up th'firepit, you awa an' find us some decent wid fir a fire, aye? As much as y'can fit in those arms."

Seoras fumbled a moment as the world around them came back into proper focus. Wobbling to their feet they strapped on their quiver, picked up their bow and slung it over a shoulder. There was a brief hesitance, as if Seoras had another question, but it went unanswered as the youth scampered off to complete his task.

The moment his Ward was out of sight, Rhes abandoned the firepit and moved to the bundle of fabric that served as his fèilaedh-mòr and began to spread it out across the hard ground. There was enough fabric to wrap around his body and then cover his upper half in a cloak-like manner. Easy enough to half it. He'd just have to make do with cold shoulders in the rain for a while.

Rhes grabbed his hunting knife and sliced the fabric roughly in two with a good deal of effort. Now came the hard part.

Seoras returned after the shadows had moved a full hand over, laden down with wood of various sizes and shapes in a pile so large they could barely see over it. When it was dropped beside the firepit with a clatter, they frowned. It was still not finished. In fact, it was exactly the same as it had been when Rhes requested firewood.

"Uh… What have ye been doing?"

It hadn't meant to sound accusatory but Seoras would be lying if they weren't a little irked at having done so much work when Rhes had sat here doing nothing. Looking over, they found Rhes lounging against a nearby fallen log he had dragged over to function as seating.

"Close yer eyes."

"Excuse me…?"

"Ye heard me; close yer eyes."

Seoras did as instructed, albeit with a confused grumble. Their frown deepened as the sounds of Rhes scraping about and flapping some sort of fabric made them want to peek. His footsteps came closer until Seoras was certain that Rhes was within arms reach.

"Righ'. I've no done awny'hin' like this a'fore but it's th'best I could dae. Y'can open yer eyes noo."

Once more Seoras did as was requested and found both hands flying up to catch a gasp that all but jumped out. Using half of his fèilaedh, Rhes had managed to fashion a very simple dress. It had no sleeves and the stitching was very rough, but at that moment, as pieces of the puzzle slid into place, Seoras didn't care.

The youngster darted forward and slammed into Rhes' chest. They weren't tall enough to hug him properly so instead they settled for squeezing the life from his waist. Tears they hadn't known were hiding burst forth in relief of acknowledgment. Of realisation. Rhes brought a hand up, placing it gently atop that head of bright auburn hair while the dress stayed pinned between the pair of them.

He held onto his young charge until that river exhausted itself and a pair of bleary eyes looked up at him, tentatively fingering the dress. The laughter that bubbled up was one of joy. A piercing beam of sunlight finally breaming through a clouded sky.

Tomorrow their journey began anew.

And in two suns time, a new pair of hands would join the women in their work.

[first-and-last-neocount]

Whumptober Day 5

Aaaand here we are, second offering in the Escape!AU, though this is... third I think?... if we’re going by internal chronology of what I’ve got so far. I’m not even going to try to track that as we go, though, because of the whole still-adding-more-as-I-go-along thing. I’ll figure that shit out when the AO3 post gets made, lol. 

Have some EVEN MORE FEELINGS realization, friends! And also some sad, because y’know, Whumptober. 

With the rest of Damien’s family being pagan, I also had this headcanon that his relationship with them was pretty well trashed after he joined the Church, and that the Matriarch of Ganji had kind of... honorarily adopted him, and that they were still super close, and that’s why she backed him so firmly against the Patriarch’s bullshit. Having that headcanon, though, made me wonder - what must she have thought, when she heard about certain developmens?

Day 5 - Theme Chosen: Betrayal

Damien eyed the pile of letters with some trepidation. He had only meant to grab a few belongings from his rented room in Jaggonath before abandoning it permanently – the world needed to believe that he and Gerald had perished at Mount Shaitan, so he couldn't exactly tell the landlord that he wasn't coming back, but he'd wanted to pick up a few of the items he'd brought with him across the Dividers before he and Gerald left the city for good. He hadn't expected a pile of letters to be laying on the front hall rug, having clearly accumulated during the journey to Shaitan and back.

Gerald was currently at Alesha Huyding's house, convincing the woman to let them take the rest of Senzei's journals on the Iezu for their own project. They were supposed to meet at Karril's temple in less than an hour; Damien definitely didn't have time to read these all. He scooped the pile off the floor and started flipping through them quickly, discarding the majority of them at a glance. Most of them were notes from his fellow clergy members at the Jaggonath Cathedral, wondering where he'd disappeared to; there were a few unpaid bills from local merchants, and one heavy linen envelope with a golden seal that he knew must be his official notice of excommunication. The sight of it made his chest ache, but it was nothing compared to the shock that ran through him at the last letter.

The envelope from the very bottom of the stack was also fine quality, though it lacked the ostentatious gold seal, instead being tied shut with a red ribbon. Even at a glance, though, Damien recognized the delicate hand that had traced out the address of the Jaggonath Cathedral – it seemed the letter had gone there first, and been redirected to his temporary apartment when the messenger learned that Damien was no longer employed by the Church.

The letter was from the Matriarch of the Cathedral in Ganji-on-the-Cliffs.

Guilt pooled in his chest like icy water, and Damien cursed softly. Stuffing the two Church envelopes in his jacket pocket, he left the rest of the letters on the kitchen table and went to gather what he'd come for in the first place. There would be time enough later to deal with the two he'd kept; neither of them, he suspected, were going to be an easy read.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He ended up putting off looking at the letters for a few days. Between gathering everything they would need to get them to another city, and tying up any loose ends they'd left behind, he actually managed to more or less forget about the envelopes tucked away in his pocket. Gerald had decided that their best bet was to head back northeast, retracing their steps yet again to get some distance from Jaggonath now that they had what they needed from the city; Damien wasn't any more keen on running into any familiar faces than the adept was, and agreed that it was probably the safest plan. Ensuring that they remained anonymous was enough to keep his mind occupied on the road, and it wasn't until they stopped at a dae three nights later that he remembered.

They'd both had their fill of sleeping on the unforgiving ground as winter crept closer again, and when the dae had come into view, they had agreed with only a glance that they could afford the minor risk  of dealing with the residents if it meant getting to sleep in proper beds for a night. Damien negotiated for their rooms while Gerald saw that the horses were stabled comfortably, and they met up in the common room of the dae, at a small table in the corner farthest from the light of the fire. As they sat down, though, Damien made to tuck the room key into his pocket – and his fingers brushed the envelopes still tucked into his jacket.

Either his face had shown his dismay or Gerald had felt it through their link, because the adept turned to look at him immediately, grey eyes narrowed in concern.

“What's wrong?”

“It's nothing urgent, just...” Damien pulled the letters out, feeling dread settle into his gut like a stone. “There were some letters that had been slipped under my apartment door, when I went back to get my things. Most of them weren't important, but I kept these two. I meant to look at them later that day, but – I forgot.”

Gerald's gaze fell on the golden seal of the Cathedral on the top one, and Damien heard his sudden, sharp breath. The former Knight's mouth twisted in a bitter half-smile.

“Yeah, I think we both know what that one is. This one, though...”

He pulled the other envelope out and set it on top, his heart in his throat. Gerald frowned at it, then glanced up at him.

“Who is this one from?”

“The Matriarch. In Ganji,” Damien whispered. “I wrote to her when we were sailing back from the Eastern Continent, telling her everything that had happened. The Master of Lema, what we'd discovered about the rakh, the Undying Prince... you.”

The adept went very still. He was rather like a hunting hawk in that way, a distant part of Damien's mind observed; when they laid eyes on their prey, such birds would freeze, in a manner that could look almost like a prey response itself unless one knew what to look for. In reality, the bird was preparing for the swift, sure, devastating movement of an attack – but the only warning you would get was that unnatural stillness.

“This is her response.” The soft words weren't a question. Damien sighed deeply, rolling his shoulders back in a fruitless attempt to shed some of the tension.

“Yes. And probably more, given that I'm fairly sure the Patriarch wrote to her as well – she likely knows by now that I've been thrown out of the Order, even if she hasn't yet heard about our... tragic demises.” He looked up and forced himself to meet Gerald's gaze steadily, feeling the prickling anticipation through the bond, the chill creeping over his skin. When he spoke, he kept his voice very low, not wanting to speak too loudly even though Gerald had put up a Warding when they sat down that would keep anyone from eavesdropping on them.

“I know you're hungry. Take what you need. This is going to be miserable for me either way.”

Gerald's eyes flashed, but the adept only inclined his head slightly, a silent gratitude. Damien swallowed against the lump that had formed in his throat, then reached with shaking hands to untie the ribbon and unfold the letter.

My dear son,

I hope you will forgive my informality. I know that, as the Holy Mother, I ought to have worded this more properly – but at the moment, I care nothing for propriety, so long as I can reach you.

Your letters have given me enough nightmares for a lifetime. This demon that conspires to corrupt our world, Calesta, is all that the Church most dreads; not a passive evil, but an all too active one, darkening the minds of men and swaying them to its nefarious cause. I was horror-struck to learn of the men and women that willingly served it, and what it plans for our world, but those concerns too have paled in comparison to the chill that fell over me when I read what you had written of our fallen Prophet.

Damien. If ever you felt, as I did, that our bond was that of true family – that you were my son in more than the titles that the Church proscribes, that I cared for you as I would have for a child of my flesh – then I beg of you, in the name of that bond... turn aside. I do not need it written out to know that you hope to save Gerald Tarrant, to redeem him from his dark deeds and guide him back into the light of God. I cannot stress enough how much I fear for you if you pursue such a path. There are some choices that a man cannot make without altering who he is forever, and some roads are too dark to retrace one's steps. You cannot save him. God's greatest gift is forgiveness, but a man such as that will not accept it, for to do so he would have to admit that his deeds require forgiveness – to admit that he has become a monster, and repent of what he has done. A man like Gerald Tarrant can never do that.

If you try to save him, I am certain that he will poison you. Slowly, no doubt, and subtly, for to have survived all that he has the Hunter must be a devious creature indeed – but inexorably, and perhaps, irrevocably. I know you, Damien, and your greatest strength is also your greatest weakness; your incredible determination. It has carried you through so much adversity, and it held you to our faith and cause when your family would have dragged you away... but I fear that it will also keep you from recognizing when you are outmatched, and hold you to your resolve to alter his nature, even as his corruption takes hold. If you are focused only on his redemption, you may not see what is happening until it is too late.

Please come home, Damien. I know it goes against everything we preach, but this once, I reach out to you and speak not as the Holy Mother, but simply as a mother. Come home. Let another fight this war; let the Hunter carry this burden alone, if you truly believe he wishes to make amends. We are all of us sworn to give our lives for the Church, but I beg of you, not like this.

Come home.

With all my love and prayers,

Carla

No title. No Holy Mother. Not her regnal name, Aelia II. Just her given name, as a mother might sign a desperate letter to her son.

Damien didn't know when he'd started to cry, but his eyes burned by the time he reached the end; his cheeks were wet, and his chest ached from staying quiet, even as his whole body shook with silent sobs. He dropped the letter on the table and pressed his hands over his face, past caring if his distress was obvious. No one else in the room was going to notice anything with the Obscuring still in place, and it wasn't as if Gerald needed the visual cues to know that he was upset – with the way he felt, in that moment, the grief and guilt had to be flooding out of him like blood from an arterial wound, staining the fae around him black and crimson.

He'd known, since the night he braved Hell itself to bring the Hunter back, that he was turning his back on everything he'd ever cared for. Not merely his faith, intangible as it was, but also his home, his friends, and his family.

Perhaps his parents and brother would not have disowned him for the choices he had made on this quest – but it was years too late for that to matter, after the way they had fallen out when Damien chose to join the Church. The faith of the One God had forced Damien to distance himself from their aggressively pagan lifestyle, and they had seen his choice as a betrayal, a self-righteous attack on their way of life instead of the deeply personal calling Damien had felt it to be. The only thing that had gotten him through that loss and upheaval had been the support of a woman who, at the time, was just another priestess at the Ganji Cathedral. Mother Carla had been his bedrock of support, his sponsor in the seminary and a gentle voice of reassurance whenever Damien felt himself faltering; by the time Damien was Knighted, she had ascended to the Holy Mother's seat as Matriarch Aelia II, and their bond had been unshakable. It had been Carla who recommended Damien for the experimental program teaching young Workers in Jaggonath, who had seen him off with a warm smile and the assertion that she knew he would do well, and that he would return to Ganji-on-the-Cliffs having shaped a whole generation of new minds.

And Damien had betrayed her.

It wasn't what he meant to do, but what did intent matter when measured against the cold facts of the outcome? He had betrayed the faith they held in common by choosing to forgive the Hunter's centuries of crimes; he had betrayed the Church they both served by thwarting Andrys's attempt at vengeance and helping Gerald elude the Crusade; he had betrayed the personal trust she had placed in him by deserting his duty and turning his back on the very principles that he himself had once preached to the Church's young followers. She had sent him east to further the vision of the Church, and instead he had struck it one of the most staggering blows it had suffered in centuries. She had reached out to him in compassion and love, ready to absolve him of every responsibility if he only turned back... but even if the letter had reached him in time, Damien knew in his heart that it still wouldn't have altered his course.

That, surely, was the bitterest betrayal of all – the knowledge that seared through him and left him shaking and cold and sick. That letter hadn't said anything that he hadn't already, on some level, known; he had held all those arguments with himself a thousand times, those long lonely nights on the road to Mount Shaitan. He had recognized the risk that his own stubbornness was blinding him, recognized that his judgement and morals were compromised, recognized that he was nearing the point of no return. Even with all of that, though, when the moment of choice had come – he hadn't even hesitated. He'd seen the murderous rage in Andrys Tarrant's eyes, known that it was the reckoning for all of Gerald's sins, and he'd still stepped in front of the bolt.

He might not have surfaced from that yawning abyss of despair for a long time, if not for the gentle sensation that ran along the link between himself and Gerald. Unlike the assertive, even imperious force that Damien was used to from the Hunter's power, this was softer, almost inquisitive; a coaxing tug, instead of a firm push. He was still too badly shaken to muster any kind of coherent response within his mind, and a moment later, he felt an equally gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Damien.”

With an effort, the former Knight swallowed back the sounds of pain he wouldn't allow himself to make and lifted his head, blinking through tears at his companion. Gerald had shifted his chair and was sitting close by his side now, one hand raised for that steadying grip on his shoulder, and the look on the adept's face took what little breath Damien had regained away; genuine concern, traces of sorrow and guilt – unmistakable compassion, raw and unpractised and honest. A more human expression than the Hunter's face had worn in centuries, one that no one else would even have believed him capable of.

Damien realized, quite suddenly, that his heart was beating so forcefully that it might have been trying to break free of his ribcage.

He heard himself speak, without consciously deciding to do so.

“I wouldn't change it. Even if I knew, if I could go back and do it again, I wouldn't choose any differently.”

Gerald's grip tightened on his shoulder, and for a moment he just held Damien's gaze, silent. Damien could see the thoughts racing behind his quicksilver eyes, and even with the link, he couldn't read them all – but suddenly he knew, with a certainty so firm that it had to be resonating through the link, that someday he would be able to. They'd been operating on the unspoken understanding that Damien would be helping Gerald fulfill his new goal of establishing proper communication with the Mother of the Iezu, and that their work would keep them together for some time yet, but in that moment Damien knew that it was more than that. He hadn't just chosen betrayal for its own sake, in that moment in the Hunter's Keep; he'd chosen Gerald, and that choice was always going to be there, just like the link that hummed between their souls. They were walking the same path now, and wherever it lead, they would be treading it side by side.

Finally, Gerald spoke, his voice soft but ever so steady; the unwavering voice of a man who had stared Death in the face, and made it bow to him.

“I don't know that I can ever find a way to repay you for that... but I swear, on my life, that I will never make you regret it.”

Damien reached up and took the hand that had gripped his shoulder in his own, lacing their fingers together, the Hunter's once-chill hand now almost warm against his own.

“That's good enough for me.”