#g: dust: an elysian tail

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 2

ASGORE from Undertale

vs.

Everdawn Basin from Dust: An Elysian Tail

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

ASGORE:

The desperation. The sadness. The fact that he's not even the final boss, but this song makes you feel for him.

Everdawn Basin:

Good grief, this song plays on an active battlefield as down-to-earth elf people fight back against an oppressive military regime in a volcano. There is quite a bit to criticize about Dust's storytelling, but the way Hyperduck chose to embody this final section of the game is so cool. Starting off with elegant strings and an ethereal choir, the track is not letting up on the tension for even a second. Inevitably reaching a crescendo with the marching rhythm and electric guitars. Absolutely glorious.

[pinkys-library]

Introduction!

Hello! I’m Pinky! But you can call me The Mod if you’re shmancy fancy! I use She/They and I love fangans and fighting games! I am 18!

Fandoms I write for!

Despite my blog theme, I do not write for Guilty Gear! Sorry Guilty Gearers! Here are the fandoms I write for!

Under Night In Birth[Excluding Eltnum and Akatsuki, sorry Eltnum and Aka fans!!]

Dust: An Elysian Tale(Tail?) [For simplicity’s sake, I will only be taking requests for Dust and Fidget, and for my comfort, all Fidget requests must be platonic. And all requests for Dust must not be nsft/lemon! Sorry!!]

Gwain Saga

DNF Duel

Trillion: God of Destruction/Makai Shin Trillion(I will not do romantic headcanons for Perpell and Ruche)

Rules!

Here are my rules to go by when requesting!

Reader is often either G/N or heavily described to be a female as default when you don’t specify the reader’s gender!

I do Yandere, but to an EXTENT.

Angst is allowed, but once again, there’s an extent to it.

Try to fetish farm and istg,, If your request is a lil *too* specific, then I’ll have to check your blog and even search up the key words in your request.

I have full permission to deny your request, the last rule I mentioned kinda goes hand-in-hand with this one.

I do not write smut!

D. N. I. // BLACKLIST!

I’m sorry to any of those on this list! But please leave if you:

Ship Fidget X Dust

Are a Racist, MAP, AAP, Pro-Ana, etc

Post abt Trevor Henderson and/or reblog fanart of his creations(he’s not problematic as far as I know! I just really don’t like creepy stuff and his work sends me into fight or flight mode :( sorry!!)

Are a Hyde X Linne shipper(Ship just makes me uncomfortable, sorry!!)

[zelebirbo]

up top, big guy

(11 days til 5th yr anniversary!)

[teawithaura]

A, F, G, P, T, and V

A:  All time favorite game is Dust: An Elysian Tail.  A fantastic metroidvania that I think everyone should try out. F:  Favorite sequel is Left 4 Dead 2.  Blame the mods and maps, that game is fun for way too long. G:  Counter-Strike: Global Offensive P:  First Person Shooter T:  Best game memory.  Wow, that takes a bit of thinking.  I’d say it was finishing chapter 3 of Xenoblade Chronicles 2 because after finishing the cutscenes for it, I didn’t realize I could feel so emotionally attached to fictional characters --still haven’t finished the game.

V:  It was either Freddi Fish and the Case of the Missing Kelp Seed or Putt Putt Goes to the Moon.  Humongous Entertainment’s games for the early years of my childhood.

[regents-hidden-artblog]

The Flower of Bifrost

It was late December, some few days before the gift-giving holidays coincidentally shared by Elysians and Earthlings alike. It was a time, I suppose, where I was lenient with myself, and allowed myself something special. A gift given to myself by myself, and this year, knowing the trial ahead of me, I decided that my gift to myself would be utterly spectacular.

I had travelled a week away from home, up to the much mythologized mountains of Muspel. Above all things, I knew that the mountains housed a peculiar grove, an anomalous zone of early springtime where a one-of-a-kind specimen of flora bloomed. The grove had but a single entrance, a cavernous tunnel haunted by what the Elysians supposed was a guardian spirit, perhaps born to protect those beautiful flowers that bloomed here and here alone.

As I stepped into the darkness of the cave, a chill swept over me, greater still than the windy bite of winter that I would soon escape. A sudden and deep-running fear crawled through my skin, leaving goosebumps as I slowly ambled forward, going willingly blind into the dark.

It was a dark I knew no light could penetrate. Torches would be snuffed out, lamps would sputter and die, and sorcerous fairy-lights or shining auras would slowly fade. It was beyond me to fight what I knew was a pointless battle; whatever spirit presided over this grove would have me probe the dark to find its home, and I would oblige its game.

No sooner than the thought crossed my mind, I tripped, half-stumbling over a wayward root. I heard a noise, though it was difficult to tell exactly what it was - laughter, or the barking of an animal? In my confusion, I felt a piercing stare, simultaneously from everywhere and nowhere at once. The sensation felt like a choice - go further, or go away.

I would go further.

Within minutes, a distant light shown at the end of the tunnel, and wisps of blue light began to outline the path. Dirt and stone and roots were illuminated by the spectral candlelight, and as I continued, I began to see shadows moving in the dark, faster than I could follow, but noticeable in the dim light.

The spirit was closing in on me, and I began recalling its origin. On Elysium, the people of Isonade had a story about the Woman of the Smoking Room, hidden away on a northern mountain, a generous woman who bore fox-like features. Many people would seek her out, but only a few would be allowed audience with the capricious woman.

Her story extended to Bifrost, where the guardian spirit of Muspel Mountain was said to be her daughter, equally generous and capricious as her mother, but with a fondness for beautiful places. I was certain the story was twisted for many such strange groves that dotted this intermediary planet, but there was a certain tangibility to it in the present moment.

I heard the noise again, and it was more clearly laughter, a warm giggle as though I was so close, but still so far away from something. Had the spirit probed my thoughts, and found the lie in her own mythos, or was she simply holding me away from the grove a while longer?

And, just as it seemed to know my thoughts, I felt the ground give way underfoot, and just a mere few inches down I stepped into warm soil and verdant grass.

The grove was an anomaly twice-over; warmth and overflowing life in the midst of winter, and separated from the cold, unforgiving foothills at the base of the mountain by a dark tunnel that, looking back through it, was scarcely as long as it felt. Weeping cherry blossoms loomed over a wide pond, and a wide variety of flowers and trees bloomed besides, but the light streaming in from above shone down almost specifically on the center of the grove.

And there I saw two things that made me catch my breath. Wide, white petals bleeding blue at the base, silver dust hovering thick in the heart of the plant, and behind it, sitting demurely with her eyes downcast and a smile creeping at the corners of her mouth was the spirit.

She was slender, almost frail, though there was a subtle curvature to her body that made her elegant. She had vulpine ears and a samelike tail, and had long, wheat-gold hair pinned back into a streaming ponytail. She wore a blue yukata, and the summer dress was worn close over her body, but one half was let to rest lower on her shoulder, exposing her collarbone.

"Y()u l()()k quite c()ld, stranger," she said, her voice low and inviting, "perhaps y()u might c()me warm y()urself beside me?"

For a moment, I was stunned by the offer, but I wordlessly obliged. I moved to her side, settling down and crossing my legs. She chuckled, shifting herself so as to lean against me. Even with the warmth of the glade around me, I was shocked to find myself completely abandoned by cold at her touch.

"Better?" she asked, looking up at me with a delightful smile.

I hesitated a moment, dreading to speak. "Better."

The spirit reached down, cupping the flower in her hand and gently plucking it from its stem. She breathed in the silvery dust, and gave a satisfied exhale as she offered the bloom to me.

"What brings y()u here t() my little hideaway, stranger?" she asked, holding the flower up to my nose, making the dark, sweet scent unavoidable. "Y()u've c()me a l()ng, l()ng way in the dead ()f winter, and I d()ubt y()u were driven by mere curi()sity..."

"I...Will be facing a daunting challenge soon," I began, "and so I thought to impress myself with something beautiful before I leave."

"()h()h()...S()mething beautiful, y()u say?"

She brought the flower back down to its stem, and before my eyes, it began to sew itself back into place, radiating an amber glow. The fragrance from the flower's pollen began to hit me, only barely noticeable, but I could feel my senses becoming cloudy as my mind was intoxicated by the flower's curious dust.

"May I ask if y()u f()und what y()u were l()()king f()r?"

"I did...And then some."

The spirit chuckled, wrapping her tail across my lap as she lowered me gingerly into a bed of moss. Her eyes were dreamy and half-lidded, though it seemed she was perfectly aware - and I had her full attention.

"Tell me, stranger...What's y()ur name?"

"I...Can't." I said, trying to still my mind, though I was surely losing to the pollen. My muscles eased, though I could feel my fingers slip between hers, holding her hand firmly as though that act could ground me to reality. "Though, I suppose...A monicker couldn't hurt." I allowed.

"A m()nicker will w()rk just fine."

"Call me...Merlin." I said, my eyes fluttering shut against my will. I could feel the spirit press a kiss against my cheek, and she still held my hand firmly, being careful for my comfort.

"Merlin...And y()u may call me Imer()s."

When I awoke, I found myself at home, laying across my couch and decorated in the heavy traveling gear I had worn to Muspel. I struggled to my feet in a bleary-eyed haze, and across the room I saw that peculiar flower that had whisked me away into unconsciousness, and resting against its pot was a note, handwritten in short, charming writing.

G()()d luck, Merlin.

I'll see y()u s()()n~

~Imer()s