#forgotton souls

[stalwart-spirit]

❝Though the ways of the Viper can be traced to Tural, there is another variant of these soul crystals having been linked to Ivalice, more than likely down to the kingdom's vast trade among other regions within Etheirys, giving them access to the various eclectic ways of the star's many inhabitants.

Sharing the same title (however there has been some unveiled documentation of them being called Sword Saints within Dalmasca), these men and women were known for tackling the various beasts birthed from the abuse of audacite by the hands of the Sect of Germonique, striking them down before destruction could befall the kingdom.

Acquisition of a genuine Ivalician Viper soul crystal has become rare in the years following the kingdom's decent into legend, but some have been found in position of those within the Dalmascan Resistance with old traditions being brought forth in the wake of Rabanastre's fall, as well as wayward souls travelling across the star seeking refuge in Tural, their ancient Ivalician ancestries being channeled by the soul crystal's contained knowledge.❞

The Rabanastran Record: A Study on Our Forgotton History Saeed Iscitan

---

Just some non-canon lore for Saeed's variation of the Viper class!

[memorycycle]

lucky for them the collosus had single glaring flaw: it had to keep driving no matter what. using clever engineering the created a trap. it put it on a infinite loop track. there it was confined for centuries and centuries until it had been completedly forgotton by everyone.

one day a young traveler was digging in the earth with his spinny cone thing. he was so curious so he dug really deep and he uncovered the giant apple car sealed in the earth. he saw the apple cars power so he killed it and sucked the soul out of it for himself. the apple cars body couldnt decay after losing its soul so it just sat there infecting the ground around it. the young traveler used the new power to rule the world and he lost his heart.

the apple car curse was spread every where. nothing could decompose anymore which meant nothing could be born either. only the oldest trees that could outlive everything would remain to see the final years of earths activity.

the young traveler had an option to save everything but he would never use it. the world was his kingdom. his powers got weaker over time to the point where hd could no longer reset the world with fire even if he wanted to. he kept up protective barriers around his shrinking cities until he died wrinkly when the thin circle around him broke

[babypeachsims]

The Vampire's Daughter

Pandora Straud

I was born to the two most powerful vampires of our time: Vladislaus and Arabella; Count and Countess of the Straud House and bloodline.

Our species had all been nearly wiped out if it wasn't for my father founding our small town of Forgotton Hollow, and spreading his gift amongst the remaining survivors who still had enough strength in them.

However, I've been told that his new offspring didn't have the desire to follow my father's teachings, bringing forth a new alternative way of existence.

My father secluded himself away to the shadows of the Straud mansion, despairing in the fact that the Old Ways of existence ended with him.

That was, until, he met my mother: Arabella.

It was rare for a mortal to show such potential: historically, only a select few bloodborn vampires would be lucky enough to possess such strength. But my father knew he couldn't let the opportunity go to waste, so he turned my mother, and soon began the task of teaching her the Old Ways of our kind.

My mother surpassed all expectations, and becamce the strongest Grand Master our kind has seen for centuries.

They fell in love, wedded, and eventually had me: Pandora Straud; the second generation of the Straud bloodline. It is my duty to continue our bloodline and ensure the Straud House becomes even greater, just as it was when my father was a Fledgling.

However, I find that the stronger I become, the more I question the other ways of existence our kind have discovered. There are two siblings in our town; Caleb and Lilith Vatore, who seem to be the leaders of this New Way. I cannot let my parents know, but I find this fascinating.

Caleb is well acquainted with my mother, and while he and my father despise each other, he does occassionally come to visit. I must try to get him alone, so I can know more about this alternative existence.

I know I should be grateful for my title, and the power I possess, but I can't help but feel in my soul that there must be more than this eternal night...

Hair - Dress - Necklace - Poses

[ridreamir]

My grief addled heart wanting to draw parallels between Dagoth Ur and the Nerevarine to the Last Dragonborn and Nebarra... This is overly complicated I understand if you don't want to read it lol

Warning: Some Morrowind and Skyrim spoilers/ lore ahead, mumbo jumbo I'm sorry if I'm not making sense. Same for Nebarra's backstory but the spoilers are very vague.

Nebarra, descended from the true Aldmer, potentially mixed somewhere along the way with the last of the true Chimer.

(The Chimer: Dagoth Ur's and Nerevar's extinct race, closely descended from the Aldmer) that could account for Nebarra's so called 'racial impurities'. The irony there being he'd have a close genetic link to the original Aldmer that the modern Altmer wish to emulate. (The Chimer were cursed by the Daedric Prince Azura and are now modern day dark elves, but they used to look like Altmer with fair hair and skin.) His quest is rooted in Solstheim. Maybe his soul is called to the Heart of Lorhkan still. Maybe it still longs for their past lives in Morrowind. The Last Dragonborn, bloodline unclear or sullied in reincarnation like the Nerevarine. Given a bad lot in life. Always the toy of higher powers.

They are both ill-fated individuals, reincarnations. The Dragonborn containing the essence of 'divine' dragonblood. Perhaps Neverar was also a dragon-hearted individual, drawing parallels to the divine heart of Lorhkan that corrupted Dagoth Ur. Much to do with hearts which pump blood, and divinity.

Many mortal incarnations that come in times of great strife.

The previous outside lover that prevents the two souls from connecting, once Nerevar's wife the betrayer, then Nebarra's grief-stricken heart who lost his first love to a tragic death. Again the parallel of the broken and betrayed hearts. Big emphasis on hearts here.

The parallels aren't a perfect one to one but all the elements are there. Mortals desperately wishing to return to divinity. Reincarnation. Betrayal, death, obstacles. Man and Mer. Lorhkan as a good and evil force. A betrayer. A life giver.

The accursed realms of Mundus and themes of the dead rising to life. What if this has been the tragic love story (friendship? Longing?) of two souls fragmented from before the world of man and mer, meant to incarnate and find each other again and again? Aspects of the dead divines now incarnated to haunt the divine corpse of Lorhkan that is now the Earth they walk on?

Same seeds, different soil. Different times, different places. Same souls, different bodies. The horrific part about this is that they're always separated. Sometimes not even born together or surviving long enough to find one another. In the tragic one in a million chance they do, often they'll eventually have to wrench themselves from the other in order to fulfill a prophecy and sacrifice themselves by the will of the divines (or the daedric lords as their toy puppets.) The Aedra are dead. You are in spirit the whispers of their corrupted dream. In flesh, he as an Altmer is what has become of their blood. Two halves of the same coin. Mortality and Divinity.

I could really stetch this so far, but I see how I'm kind of dragging Nebarra out of his intended role. Just an AU thing I thought of. You could technically place anyone in his role but I wanted to write more Nebarra content lol

I could definitely write a quest that hints to past lives forgotton and the karma/shared fates of these two tortured beings as a romance storyline if we're being honest here. Big emphasis on broken hearts.

They are so sad and love each other your honor.

[hadeslegacyhephgirl]

Soulmate au pt1

here is the first part. FINALLY. Sorry it took so long, I like, promised this about a month ago (or it feels like that)

So enjoy, and I'm going to stress about my upcoming English and Hass exams. 😥

----------------------I------------------------------

People at Camp Half-blood hummed.

People at Camp Jupiter whistled

The new girl came to camp singing.

~*~ She was nothing special, just another Apollo kid.

Just another half-blood.

She never interacted with anyone she deemed not worth my fucking time, which was slightly rude, but people accepted it. Ares' kids were worse, to be honest- wait, Clarisse, no I didn't mean it like tha-

Her powers consisted of… almost nothing. She could play the guitar, though it took her a while to actually pick one up- memories and trauma, she told them- and the tunes were half-forgotton remnants of old tunes her dad had taught her, or she'd taught herself. She could aim well, though that wasn't surprising, most Apollo kids had good aim anyway. She loved music and ballet, though that was useless in battle. She couldn’t handle blood at all, which excluded her from the infirmary, though she liked organising the med kits, so at least she wasn't all bad.

All in all, she was just another half-blood. No-one had heard her soul-tune yet, in fact, she hadn't hummed or whistled or made any kind of music with her mouth.

In fact, for the first three days, no-one could get anything out of her but hi and fuck off.

So they would shrug, move along, leave her buried in on book or another, generally ignoring the world.

No-one even knew her name.

~*~

Jason had two problems.

The first problem being that he doesn't feel right about Piper. He thinks it's wrong that their soulmates.

Don't get him wrong, he loved Piper. Just... not that way.

He whistled, she hummed, and while the tune matched... it didn't feel right. Like it was a tune so similar, but just off.

Could that be it?

Could Piper and Jason have different soulmates?

The second problem was Leo.

Who had just come back from the dead and locked himself in his cabin- room? Cave?- and refused to talk to anyone.

Not even Jason.

His best friend.

He tried everything. But Leo just would not connect.

Like it was just Leo and everything else wasn't there.

Jason was worried. Because Leo was his best friend and well- he was worried, okay? He can be worried.

So he could do something about it, right?

Fuck it.

Jasons feet took him to Bunker nine, in the forest. The door was open.

Jason peered into the half-gloom and called out

"Leo?" Clanking.

But no response.

Jason sighed and walked it, looking at the half-finished projects, dust tools, torn plans. It looked abandoned. Sad.

Just like it's inhabitant.

Leo was bent over another small project, but gave up and threw it at the wall, and then just sat there, slumped over.

Jason didn't want to break the silence. So he padded over quietly and simply sat next to Leo, taking him in.

Leo was tired. Jason could tell from his slumped position, his enormous eyebags, and, well, because Jason just knew.

Then Jason raked his eyes down Leo's body- he's not checking him out, for fucks sake, he's just checking to make sure he's okay is what he tells himself- and noticed his hands.

Scraped and calloused and bloody, dried blood mixing with new cuts on his hands.

Jason can't keep it in any longer

"Oh Leo"

Leo doesn't react. Jason gets up, searches around, comes back with a clean cloth and a roll of bandages and sits in front of Leo, cleaning his hands and bandaging them. Leo doesn't move.

Until his mouth does, and his voice comes out as a croak.

"I thought- I just- she-" Jason exhaled. He got it. "Calypso?" Leo nodded slightly. "I'm sorry."

"'s not your fault"

"I know, but still." "I- I feel like I- failed- and that- that-" Leo broke down, and Jason encapsulated him in a hug, letting Leo soak Jasons shirt with tears and snot until it reduced to hitched breathing and hiccups. Jason doesn't say a word.

"I'm sorry" Jason has to stop himself from physically shaking Leo.

"Leo." "I- I'm a fuckup- jus- just like-" "Leo" "a-and I can't-" "Leo, listen to me. You are not a fuck-up, okay? You are human, and shutting down is perfectly alright, okay? You have nothing to apologise for, okay? Nothing" "… okay"

~*~

Nico was hiding.

He did a lot of that nowadays, but now he was hiding for a very specific reason.

Because he'd just heard Will fucking Solace humming his soulmate tune.

Will fucking Solace was Nico di angelo's soulmate.

So Nico was hiding.

Why?

He had no idea.

After all, he shouldn’t have a soulmate, as far as he's concerned.

Heck, he came from the 1800's.

Why the fuck would Will Solace be his soulmate?

Just how the heck did that work?

Nico buried his face in his hands, trying to block everything out because it was all to lou-

"Nico?"

Shit

Nico ran.

Again.

Because there was no way he's talking to Will now, or possibly ever

~*~

---------------------------I---------------------------

[miqotepotatoe]

A Forgotton Soul

[misscloudiedays]

Well if you can i would ask for both, but if you can't i would ask for Treasure island ones for sure!! (I just reallyyy like the island toons)

I’ll try! Some toons I haven’t really thought to much of? Or some toons who don’t really think or do much

So yeah this for my interpretation so some characters are different from canon lol

[FNATI]

Photo negative Mickey -

Photo is one of Mothers favorite, mostly due to how well behaved he is.. he’s a “blank slate” compared to toons like Oswald and the Face, her view on him is.. tainted by the whole “hourglass” incident

Oswald -

Mother pity’s Oswald, his calls for “God” are saddening, she doesn’t try and baby him since he values his independence. But she’s WILL take action when Oswald is pushing himself too hard

Disembodied (Donald) -

Mother reasonably can find his Presence annoying, but when he’s not screaming his head off, he’s just a polite lil guy who um- sometimes claws around on the walls

The Face (Mickey) -

Mother tries to be nice to him, but the mouse makes it very hard. he has said hateful things to mother, mother brushes them off.

Impurity (Minnie) -

Mother likes impurity! She’s a sweet girl- has a odd obsession with teeth but it’s no real concern to mother. Mother comforts impurity when she’s questions her beauty

acephalous (Goofy) -

Ace is.. a simple guy, follows other toons around and doesn’t cause much of a fuss. It’s hard to read him due to the lack of a head, but he’s well behaved

Pluto -

he’s a dog, he’s a bit slow but it’s still Pluto, Mother appreciates his company, other toons seem to aswell

Willy -

Mother also finds Willy endearing, he’s very child like and doesn’t let his “past life” hold him down, he’s happy it happened. And happy where he is now

Mortimer -

Mortimer is a sorrowful mouse, a fuzzy mind filled with horrid thoughts. Mother does her best to aid mortimer but he tends to retreat to a place mother cannot reach.

The Forgotton one -

He’s irresponsible and reckless, he has uncontained power and uses it for party tricks! Hides his heart with a big smile. He’s letting himself be Forgotten.

[ Oblitus Casa ]

(Any character who have already been spoken about won’t be recapped)

In this canon Willy and “Willie” are the same

Belial -

Belial is a odd toon, she is unseen unless given a physical form through a drawing on a note book, mother will carry around Belial and keep track of her note book, Belial cannot speak words but her happy chirps are enough Reassessment to mother that she is Happy.

Daisy -

Daisy is around the same lines of Disembodied, she’s better at being quiet, and is much faster then Disembodied.

Photo negative Minnie -

PN Minnie is also a bit of a blank slate, she remembers some things and cares for PN Mickey. she has horrible anxiety around her self image despite her beauty, her face and her heart are beautiful.

Pete -

Pete tends to Antagonize other toons epically Willy (who now, tends to combat Pete’s words in his own goofy way.) Pete is a old soul due to his source. Mother can have decent conversation with him but he’s has some odd views.

Dippy -

Dippy is also a older soul, his constant wheezing while speaking is proof enough, but he’s much kinder compared to Pete

MickMick (who is a separate being from mother) -

MickMick is to be kept on the island, she deserves better then what the SSA had planned, she is mine

The Corruptus -

The Corruptus is new, and unpredictable, mother tries to her best to guide him in the right direction. His mind is not truly his own… yet

Purple ( Forgottens brother in the au) -

Purple seemingly came out of no where, but his purpose is very clear, she will care for this child

Dezz & Nutz (yes, there here too) -

How did they get here, I don’t know, they keep using slang terms

( if there’s anyone I didn’t mention that your curious about just ask 👍)

[yookimi]

⁀ * ❅ @griefbled ╱ continued :

humid is the breath , pitching it's race , 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑑𝑑𝑠 will you catch it . combat is necessary ( a breath , the heartbeat . ) , a strategic exercise , temperature fevered between bodies , pressed close . sunlight sprays thin, holds you in it's stage . sword hilt echoes where it falls. forgotton for the sake of redirected focus.

control that heart of yours : a rapture waged on the chest . in the belly there's 🇭​🇪​🇦​🇹​ , loud & demanding . amethyst , tanzanite , dark caves with acute stone tapered , a light triggered in the purples . stiff is the body , rigid with a sudden stimulant [ . . . ] 𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒 ?

you remember a childhood blessed with the love of a mother, only her counterpart far less compassionate , rage lit the soul of your father ablaze and it was something you inherited : only your anger invokes passion 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑡 . matches at an alter , lit in amity . sharp need holds you hostage , coiled tight in the gut that hungers ; not for substance, no feed can satisfy the famine . bred from the 𝒈𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒔 nature you are starving ! ( can you be satisfied by him ? or will you let him eat you whole ? ) heart out of body , 𝑐𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 , knife & fork , watch him taste the bitter of your heart.

❛ if i want to ? ❜ words, mirth loaded and a crooked smile acting as companion. where the distance edged into being 𝑇𝑂𝑂 𝑀𝑈𝐶𝐻 , you close it , cut it close . noses brush but there's no kiss , your lips a phantom over your opposite. a quiet hum, deep in the bone, resonates the chords. ❛ 𝒕𝒔𝒌 — ❜ smile returns , carnivorous as the wolf . angle shifts , hips press and 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚝 into the ones that tease , pressure . ❛ what about you ? hm ? ❜

[burlveneer-music]

VA - PRAISE POEMS 9 - A journey into deep, soulful jazz & funk from the 1970s - aha, there is a new one!

After 8 years and 8 volumes, the Tramp Records crew invites you to join them on yet another enlightening journey into soulful Jazz, Folk and AOR from the 1970s and 80s. This 9th volume contains sixteen (almost) forgotton Soul, Jazz and AOR/yacht rock nuggets from between the mid 1970s and early 1980s. One of the many highlights is the opening track by Ronnie Miller, balearic soul at its very best. But that's just the beginning. Praise Poems Vol.9 covers a wide selection of genres, from AOR (Leaves of Autumn, Mirage and Germany's own People) to pop-soul-rock (Stroke, Tom Miles and Jan Lewis Group), from Terry Callier-type folk-soul (Danish-Swedish singer & guitarist Mikael Neumann, Babe and the previously unreleased "Love Is Not For Real"), to jazz (Dianne Elliott and Phil Palumbo), completing the set with a couple of melancholic soul and psych beauties, most notably AOH's mind-blowing "The Answer Lies In Love". Very few compilation series' release as many as nine volumes and those that get that far often start to run out of quality music or meander too far from their original artistic direction. That certainly is not the case with the "Praise Poems" series which leaps from strength-to-strength as our team of compilers and researchers continue to unearth lost and often overlooked music from an era long gone. Many of these records were released in small quantities as private pressings or by small regional labels. Obviously, those labels neither had the budget, expertise, nor options to promote their releases in a sweeping way. Therefore the majority of these artists failed to find the wider audience their music so richly deserved.

[asher-writes]

What a wild way to find out that my asks have been locked this ENTIRE time.

✨️So✨️

The project is still simmering but about a little while ago I tried to design dragons again, except all the attempts that excites me were Electro Corvids instead of dragons. Sparkbeaks. I took my colourful zapdos babies and moved on.

So I started looking at the world and found out there are Bones in the Earth. Large bones. One giant creature bones, and that's been haunting me for about a week trying to figure out how or why a giant cliff coasted island is an isolated archeoligist's dream.

And today it hit me.

Not so long ago, the divines and powers that be saw that the magic in the world gave mortals too much power. Why elevate the divines into true gods if all was possible already? So they sought to lower the living, strip them of their power and create a gorge between the accomplishments of mortals and the hopes of achieving it amongst themselves. The divines targeted the powerful first- for without Dragons, the people would be without the guidance and shelter under their wings.

The dragons roared in defiance. The divines expected this. However they were also isolated creatures, and the divines stole away their power one by one.

A songbird confessed what they saw.

The divines were not prepared for the mortals to roar in defiance together. Humans and Sparkbeaks and Dragons and the others among them defied those who wanted to be gods- the false protectors.

One ancient soul knew they would he able to flee, even on his old bones, but that would mean abanonding the people who fought to protect him. So instead, he cut the land from its sisters and paid the cost of the magic, flesh and blood and soul, to build a haven where magic was a thing of the earth, and not the people. The divines could not hunble what was already dead.

The people kept it a secret. And secrets are forgotton. And now the people of today have been digging, learning about their home, and the rich marrow that provides the magic. They are making it into jewelry. Some have made the mistake of making it into soup. Some marrow was burned and lost forever, weaking the magic of their home, just a little.

They fear the Unknown Entity that could have slain such a massive beast.

They know nothing lf their history.

Thanks for giving me the opportunity!! I'm really looking forward to developing the mechanics for how the magic behaves in different forms!

Happens to the best of us!

Also oh my god that sounds so damn cool and interesting, the lore is so enchanting! I'm really captivated by it!

I'm excited to see where it goes and how the magic develops! Please tag me in any snippets and such!

[honeysuckle-venom]

Hey that thing you said about the monologue and mythology based on that Gustav Klimt painting sounds really cool, if your comfortable talking about it could I hear about the mythology? No pressure at all though

Ooh this is such a fun question! I'm not going to go fully in depth with the whole pantheon bc tbh I don't remember all of it but I will explain what I decided was happening during the moment depicted in the painting! Also, I last played in this particular fantasy world 9+ years ago, so there's almost definitely stuff I've forgotton and/or would change if I was coming up with this now.

Basically, the girl in the painting has travelled to the underworld. The statues around her are actually departed souls. When they reach the underworld they're put into the form of statues because the god of the dead hates talking/the sound of voices. But music is very metaphysically powerful there. In this universe it is known that if you really, really want/need to, you can exchange your life for that of someone who has already died, but it's a very long and painful process and almost no one does it. What you have to do is travel to the underworld and play music nonstop for the total amount of time you have been alive (so if you're 20 when you do this you have to play for 20 years). As you play, you slowly begin to turn to stone, and playing becomes more and more difficult. At the same time, the person whose life you're exchanging for slowly begins to un-fossilize, and there's a period of a few years in there where you're both human enough to interact, except you can't speak in words bc the god of the dead hates words, and if the person playing ever stops for more than an hour at a time the whole thing is null and void. So in the moment of the painting our main character has traveled to the underworld to play enough music to bring her lover back to life, and she's been playing for a few years, and her lover has finally unfrozen enough to take her first step towards her, although she hasn't looked up and seen that yet.

[maagnatism]

Every day I come to work (retail) I feel the crushing weight of capitalism drowning my soul in water, endlessly. But every so often a little kid comes in here and their eyes light up like in a candy store. They gasp and they start running around, shouting happily at things. "Chica is my favorite!!! Chica Chica Chica Chica..." She giggles as she plops a mountain of fnaf plushies onto my desk, and the father rolls his eyes but gets it for her anyway because he loves her. I feel my day brighten up just a little. The undercurrents of the crushing nature of my job feel just a little more bearable.

Earlier, two middle school girls come in with one's dad and spend an entire 30 minutes giggling to themselves and making references and jokes with everything they find. We talk about Sailor Moon and their other interests for a bit. They seem like the kind of girls who will go far later. I wish them well, and my soul gets brighter. My day a little less monotonous.

I honestly can't understand people who say that they "hate kids." Like... how has that gotten so normalized to say? Why is that a genuine considered opinion? You don't have to be great at speaking to them, or whatever, but really? You hate them? I couldn't imagine hating kids as a whole, no matter how annoying the group of kids walking past me is or how much a bratty one messes up my store wall. I think people forget that they're the next generation. Do you really want to be the old person shouting at kids to get off their lawn? Forgotton with age and history? Get over yourself. Kids are awesome

[deadoesdrawings]

late last night thought of an amazing hermitcraft as gods au and have forgotton about it till now. need to write it down somewhere

will do proper character introductions but for now

grian: sun god

pearl: moon god

both have known each other since before they can remember and treat each other like siblings

cleo: god of lost souls

scar: war god

false: god of battle strategy

gem: god of life

xiuma: "father of all gods"

all i could think of last night but have also figured out some worldbuilding hehe!

[maximalttigers]

Second character profile for my Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go! series 'Hunted Butterfly'.

This is Chrome, he is one of the monkeys created after the Hyperforce team as a form of counter team against them for the Dark Ones however the Alchemist sent him with his other creator Professor Dominic to protect him from that fate. He is fully aware of his origins due to Professor Dominic telling him and the small memories he remembers but he does not know everything. Unlike most of the monkeys, he is fully robotic. This is due to a similar case to that of Antauri with the difference is that he caught a mysterious illness that had no cure and was slowly killing him so his soul was transferred into the experimental 'Metal Monkey'. His life as a normal monkey is very much forgotton as this happened very early on in his life.

He's had a rough life; losing the people he was closest to, taking on a heavy burden of protecting his home and cruel mercenary work based on revenge. You can tell by looking at his scars and usual expressions. Despite this, he's managed to make the most of it. After all, he's got friends and uses his skills for good instead of evil. He is also a godfather and he loves his goddaughter like she was his own, albeit he's not that open about it. At least to others. Lately he's been opening up a bit to the Hyperforce, although reluctantly, and he seems to be more interested in Otto than he anticipated.

About the 'Silver Effect', he got that by accident when he discovered an ability within his robotic body that presumably didn't work. At the beginning, he hated it because he got mistaken for Antauri but he eventually found it useful as the coating repelled a lot of energy based attacks. The 'Dark Reaper' is a blade that was created an incredibly long time ago; A lot of information has been lost to time but many believe it was created by a Veron Mystic while others believe it was created by an outside source. Regardless, its purpose is to permanently kill Dark Ones and acts as a form of symbol to show who is the main protector of his home planet due to it being there since its creation. The Veron Mystics felt very threatened by it but they never mentioned it to their students. It was inspired by the sword 'Galaxia' from the Kirby series although more of the Anime version since it is sentient in its own way and can activate it's true form on its own if it senses hostiles that the wielder is not aware of.

Designing him and his weapons was interesting as I wanted a unique set of weapons instead of the usual robotic arms turn into the weapons while the design I wanted to focus on the seriousness of his life while hinting at some form of softness.

In the series, there will be flashbacks to better explain his story and the events of the story that will shape his character.

I will reveal more about him at a later date.

[feisty-yordle]

It is starting to feel strange that i get homesick for a single tea shop i frequented in London during our multiweek stay (maybe because my husband thinks its funny and extraordinary the way i miss it). After all, i cant say that London is a place that i feel home in, or that i enjoy the thought of visiting again. Why that shop? What do i like about that shop?

Something about it was magical. Like it didnt belong. Yes it was next to a park, and had a lovely outdoor seating area for enjoying said park (i could and should make a whole post about the parks and park culture, which is quite different from what ive experienced in the States). But compared to the rest of the organized, modern city, complete with modern problems and modern pedestrians, it seemed out of place. Like there was a veil shrouding it like the one around the university in the Magicians that only i and certain people could see and walk through. Maybe this is not so uncommon a phenomena in England, considering Harry Potter and how unabashedly English it is.

The tea house also was what i wanted out of England that seemed missing everywhere else. Most of the area i stayed in was very cosmopolitan, but not in the favorable ways. It was city but off. Nothing objectively wrong, just not my vibe (i am very happy it was very much my husband's vibe). When i first walked into the tea house i was overcome with wonder and for the first time since i landed, felt like i truly landed.

The cast of girls was consistent, as was their warming effect on my soul whenever i was around them. Almost as potent and delicious as the tea they served, in worn, living, unique mugs as i sat on well-kept antique furniture that was probably rescued from hoarders. I experienced a strange delight every time i opened the mason jar set next to the tea filled with what looked like hand-made brown sugar cubes and dropped a chonky-boi into the cup, adding a satisfying complex flavor that i have yet to find in the States and probably never will. It was a house that was probably not very old, but felt like it had existed as-is for centuries, grandfathered into a modern city center due to mere lack of fuss to be spent about it. Everything about it was so personal, and never felt that way out of design or consious politeness, but out of a innocent "but what else could it be" habit that had been my sought-after stereotype of Europe; a continent that has modernized but has never forgotton the slow way of old.

I have been inspired to look for that tea house's brethren wherever i go. But i think there will always be a special place in my heart for that one. A memory that resurfaces, refreshed, every time i crave that tea of black that i used to never spend thought on.