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rythasbrenelle · 3 months ago

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Prompt #14: Telling

Locke stumbled at the top of the hill and decided that was enough effort for the day. He removed the Doman sword from his belt and shrugged his bag and gunblade away, set all three to the side, and fell onto his back to catch his breath. The sky overhead was a bright blue, the clouds dispelled by the storm a couple days prior, and the midday sun was shining bright, chasing away the autumn chill. Locke basked in the warmth and let his eyes drift shut. “Come on, delivery boy,” Odranne said. He heard her step around him and continue toward her workshop. “No time for a nap. I’ve got a job for you to do.” “Been on my feet too long,” Locke grumbled. “Nap first.”

“I won’t mix our friend’s medicine otherwise.” Locke cracked an eye open to stare at her. She waited by the front door, a covered basket dangling from one arm. “He didn’t tell me I’d have to do anything for you. Neither did you, not until now.” “I apologize, I couldn’t speak of it in the market. Regardless, it’s important, and I won’t work until you hear me out,” she insisted. Her tone was firm, leaving little room for argument. Locke sighed but didn’t move. “Won’t work for free.” “You won’t have to. I’ll pay you.” He considered that for a moment. He did need the money. Both for the boss’ rent and to fix his arm. “Food too,” he said, imitating her tone. “I want a meal first. I’ll do your job. You pay me. Then you give me the old man’s medicine. In that order.” Odranne made a show of considering the offer, tapping her chin with one slender finger. “Very well. Though you’re being a little too bossy, I agree to your terms.” Locke stifled a yawn and closed his eyes again. “Great. Wake me when the food’s done.” “I can’t explain the job while you’re sleeping,” she pointed out. “You need to be awake for that. Awake and preferably inside, it’s of a…” she trailed off, searching for the right word. “A sensitive nature.” “Tell me over dinner.” Whatever face Odranne made, Locke was pleasantly unaware. He heard the door open and then shut behind her, leaving him free to fall into sleep’s waiting arms, cradled by soft grass and caressed by sunlight. Like that, he dreamed. A trail wound its way through the woods, gray branches and green leaves reaching up through the snow underfoot to carve the outline of a path. It was well-trodden, made smooth by the footfalls of those who came before. Reynir led the way, the kit trailing behind. Long strings of meaningless noise drifted through the air as the kit chattered away. Engrossed in the one-sided conversation, he strayed from the path, prints fresh against the untouched snow. Reynir called him back. He spoke softly, more meaningless noise, but the kit hung on every muted word. When he finished his brief speech, Reynir ruffled the kit’s hair and ordered him onward. His chest swelled with pride as the kit followed the trail unerringly this time. The forest gave way to a clearing of white and gray. A two-headed wolf with the body of a man waited at its heart, seated upon a throne. Too many teeth filled its grinning mouths. It rose to its feet, armor clanking and chains rattling. Swathes of starlight fell into its outstretched hands. The beast threw its heads back and howled at a red sky streaked with blue. The kit answered with a shrieking war cry. “Delivery boy? Delivery boy, are you alright?” Locke opened his eyes. A tan face with sharp features stared down at him, mouth twisted into a frown, eyebrows knitted together. He had enough time to rub the sleep from his eyes and look past the face, up to a red and orange sky, before he remembered he was visiting a potionmaker in Gridania. Without answering, he sat up, forcing Odranne to take a step back in doing so. He got to his feet and collected his things, returning his swords to his back and hip and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Starving. Food ready yet?” he asked, forcing a chipper note into his voice. He studied the houses below the hill, looked toward the gate in the distance, checked the claws of his right hand for dirt. Whatever expression Odranne was wearing, he didn’t want to see it. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “Yeah, it is. But what—” “Good.” Locke trudged past on uncertain legs and pushed the door to Odranne’s workshop open. The smell of something rich and savory met him at the threshold, and his stomach growled, urging him to step inside. “Come on. Tell me about this important job.”

#FFxivWrite2024 #FFxivWrite #viera vagabond vibes #Locke's Trading Quest

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bluenpinkcastle · 5 months ago

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20240802: the History of LEGO Castle day 215. 10332 Medieval Town Square (2024, 3304 pieces, 696 different parts) Medieval Town Square is another refresh on a previous set, in this case, the 2009 Medieval Market Village (10193). The Medieval Town Square provides the narrative, naming the village of Felsa, home to new stories and quaint buildings from a bygone era, including the old farmhouse, cheese factory, Broken Axes Inn, shieldsmith’s workshop and the watchtower. There are eight minifigures in this set. -The carpenter has a long braided tan hair pulled into a ponytail braid, a yellow minifigure head with sideways peach lipstick, an olive green torso with white arms and yellow hands and a printed corset with a white undershirt and a brown belt with pouch, and plain dark brown legs. -The tapestry weaver has fluffy light bluish gray hair, a yellow minifigure head with full light bluish gray beard and mustache, a sand blue torso with dark orange arms and yellow hands and a printed tunic with a brown belt, and plain dark blue legs. -The young cheese maker has a sand green cap, a yellow minifigure head with open tooth grin, a tan torso with dark orange arms and yellow hands and a tunic with a brown belt, and plain short dark brown legs. -The modernized Wolfpack member has a reddish brown hood, a yellow minifigure head with dark bluish gray facial scruff, a dark brown cloth cape, a reddish brown torso with black arms and yellow hands and a silver front-facing wolf head on a black background with a red triangular border, and plain dark bluish gray legs. -The innkeeper has a white hood, a yellow minifigure head with cheek age lines and closed peach lips, a dark red torso with white arms and yellow hands and a printed corset with a white undershirt and a dark tan belt, and a plain 2x2x2 slope to indicate a dress. -The shieldsmith has long dark brown hair, a yellow minifigure head with freckles and peach lips, a sand green torso with blue arms and yellow hands and a printed tunic with a brown belt and pouch, and plain tan legs. -The tax collector has should length dark orange hair, a yellow minifigure head with full dark orange beard and mustache, a cloth black cape, a dark purple torso with black decorated collar and black arms with dark tan hands, and decorated sand blue legs with a dark purple belt. -The lion knight soldier has a metallic silver axe helmet, a yellow minifigure head with dark tan chin rat patch, a black mustache, a red torso with blue arms and yellow hands and a gold lion rampant on a blue background on a triangular gold border, and decorated blue legs with decorated red belt. Parts inventory can be found on BrickLink or Rebrickable and a free download of the instructions is available on LEGO.

#lego 10332 #lego medieval town square #lego castles #lego #lego castle #lego history #lego castle history #history of lego castle #lego system castle #lego castle system

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unikittybigbrightworldau · 1 year ago

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My OCs in Uniflip

The Uniflip AU belongs to @uniflip-official!

Uniflip Swanna, first of all, is a very posh peacock girl named Peahenna. She is always seen wearing a sophisticated pink dress. However, she’s not very talkative. She’d rather stay at home and weave. Lee is a cherry-shaped gemstone who is adventurous and very talkative. He has an almost magical archery talent, as well as an eye for fashion. The two of them are from Graceia, a fashionable, high-society land surrounding a lake. They took up work in the Unidominion for reasons known only to them.

Floela, who in Big Bright World is Neapolitan’s friend, is Master Smile and Brock's friend. She likes to make ice cream, but she’s very clumsy and tends to make a mess. She just wants everyone to get along, but she tends to be a little hotheaded. She is close with her twin brother Neapolitan, who likes piloting and air-related things besides making desserts. Their family has lived in Uniflip!Frowntown all their life, but their heritage comes from Sugar Valley.

Germafrost is a mischievous and playful boy from Sugar Valley. Though he sometimes stumbles and falls, he goes wherever the wind takes him. He likes to prepare delicious ice cream cakes and collect sprinkles and chocolate chips he finds in the ground. He eventually meets Floela, and he helps her improve her skills in baking. Also, in Sugar Valley, there are ten types of desserts you can make, including cakes, ice cream, cookies and candies.

Lute, a sheep/ice cream hybrid, is Germafrost’s caretaker who likes to play the lute when she’s not baking cookies. She’s very punctual and is often seen at work. It’s rumored that when you eat one of her cookies, you’ll be able to see the possible futures of how the rest of your week will go. She gets really concerned for her loved ones’ safety.

Abigail, or Abby, is Germafrost’s other caretaker. She is a gray wolf who likes to improvise, and like Germafrost, she is drawn to things that look tasty. She likes to look up at the stars at night. She makes freeze-dried candies.

Tennatop, noted for his long, swirly antennae, is a pink and orange butterfly who lives in the multi-biome kingdom of Teravi (TEHR-ah-vee). He loves having a good time, and he’s always ready to have fun and play. He still tries to be conscious and keep himself safe. He is a huge animal person, doing his best to care for the fauna of his world. He’s also quite the party animal.

Lily is Tennatop’s inventive friend and the princess of Teravi. She is a blue butterfly. She is a problem solver who tinkers with the things she finds in nature. She also tries to make sure that her inventions won’t leave behind waste or use up too much energy. She can often be found in her workshop.

Lucian, who nicknames himself Spike, is the liveliest and peppiest member of Tennatop’s friend group. He is a golden sun moth who styles his hair in points that look like sun rays. He is a graceful and agile circus performer, and he loves when people watch him flip and swing on the trapeze. Though he sometimes falls down, he doesn’t let his mishaps define him.

Marcella is a honey bee. She doesn't like to be in one place for very long, and she doesn’t like getting wet. She travels around Teravi to collect nectar. She can fly at very fast speeds, meaning that it can be hard to see her. She easily gets bored and impatient, but she’s loyal and resilient.

Cream is a friend of Tennatop and Marcella who is a small pink butterfly fairy. He is learning to care for crops and plants, and he has no problem getting dirty. He also likes to make his crops into salads, and he always has some salad cream on hand for them. He is considerate, so he often checks up on his friends.

Kira is a blue glaucus who lives in an undersea land called Marinia. She’s assertive and rather short-tempered. She’s an athlete who loves underwater sports, especially volleyball. She has a good sense of problem-solving and teamwork. Though she’s a loose cannon, you can always count on her to pick you up.

Bia is Kira’s lifelong best friend. She is a red lion’s mane jellyfish. She is dreamy, mellow, and goes with the flow most of the time. She cares for the undersea plants in her garden. She also likes to make pottery and paintings. She’s very merciful and is respectful towards everyone. She’s paralyzed in her bottom half, so she has prosthetic fins that help her swim.

Allegra is a hybrid of a blue-ringed octopus and a sea star. She’s very polite and upbeat, and she brings happiness to others. She is a pacifist, as well as very romantic. She’s open and expressive, wanting to let other people know how she’s feeling. Making music is her top favorite thing to do. She is a singer, songwriter, actress and occasional poet.

Zora is a curious and fearless leafy sea dragon. He has a can-do attitude, and he’s intuitive and smart. He never shies away from tossing the dice and taking chances. He is a filmmaker who hopes to direct his own movies someday. He supports his friends through any situation. He nicknames himself Tangerweed because he’s always thought that the leaves on his body look like tangerine-colored seaweed.

Master Love is a Bloom Lord that wants to spread love and joy to all of the people of the world. She is patient about finding a partner of her own, and she understands that not everybody needs to have love to be happy. She also really loves herself, giving herself affirmations every day.

Prince Trey is the elven son of King Arcentharion of Charmland. He is very, very, VERY shy and sensitive. He’s also calm and relaxed. He loves kittens, flowers, things that are cute, and most of all, soccer. He bursts into tears whenever someone provokes him. He has the magical ability to freeze water. After he lost his older sister to an accident, Master Smile encouraged him to open up about his feelings.

Estara is the royal advisor to the king. She’s very devoted to her job, and she seems to be the one holding Charmland together. Though she can be bossy sometimes, she’s very motherly and protective towards Trey. She prefers very expensive things, and goes out of her way to make an event or interior as fancy as it can be. Her mom tried to push her into practicing mad science, but Estara wanted to be a clock repairwoman. To this day, she enjoys fixing clocks and helping people tell the time.

Sgt. Luna is a chivalrous and brave knight, but she tends to be self-centered and rude. She views herself as the gorgeous leader of Charmland’s royal guard of mages, but she doesn’t really know what she’s doing. She neglects cleaning her room and work space. Besides casting spells with her staff, she also enjoys writing plays. She comes from Stage Island, a theatrical land.

Estelle is Trey’s adoptive younger sister. Unlike him, she’s not an elf. She’s dramatic, and she’s a huge night owl. She speaks with a lot of emphasis in her voice. She often goes outside to hang out with her friends, such as her close friend Imogen. She is an enthusiast for undersea treasures and mysteries.

Imogen is an open-minded girl who is very forgiving of others. She looks past the negative qualities of everyone. She’s a huge butterfly lover and has lots of feeders built on her house. She and Estelle attend a yearly convention for pirates and ocean explorers. She lives in a houseboat on a lake.

#Unikitty!#AU #alternate universe #Unikitty: Big Bright World #oc #ocs #my ocs #Uniflip

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dailyanarchistposts · 16 days ago

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Glossary

Terms are mostly in standard Kanien’kehá:ka

People

Aiewáhtha / Ayenwatha / Ayonwentah / Ayawatha / Ayonwatha / Hiawatha / Hayanwatah : Kanien’kehá:ka roiá:ner, possibly Ononta’kehá:ka adopted as Kanien’kehá:ka. Title is requickened.

Atsenhaienton Kenneth Deer : “The fire still burns”. Kanien’kehá:ka of the Bear kahwá:tsire, residing in Kahnawà:ke, publisher and editor of “The Eastern Door”, Chairman/Rapporteur of the UN Workshop on Indigenous Media in New York in December of 2000, member of the Board of Directors for the Quebec Community Newspapers Association from 1999–2001, and co-chairman of the National Indian Education Council in Canada.

Barbara Alice Mann, Ph.D : Shotinontowane’á:ka author, professor of Native American Studies at the University of Toledo

Dayodekane / Seth Newhouse : Kanien’kehá:ka and Ononta’kehá:ka author of Ohswé:ken. He transcribed the Kaianere’kó:wa in 1885, but was not credited when Gawasco Waneh published it.

Ganioda’yo / Ganeodiyo / Gunyundiyo : “Handsome Lake”, Shotinontowane’á:ka roiá:ner who brought the Karihwí:io. Title is requickened.

Gawasco Waneh / Gawaso Wanneh / Arthur Caswell Parker : “Talking Leaves”, Shotinontowane’á:ka archeologist, historian, published Kaianere’kó:wa in English.

Hunter Gray (Hunterbear) John R Salter, Jr. : Ahkwesáhsne Kanien’kehá:ka, Mi’kmaq, St. Francis Abenaki, labor organizer and civil rights activist, former departmental chair of Indian Studies at University of North Dakota, member of Solidarity, Socialist Party USA, Democratic Socialists of America, Committees of Correspondence for Democracy and Socialism and the United Auto Workers Local 1981 (National Writers Union).

Kahentinetha Horn : Kanien’kehá:ka journalist and activist from Kahnawà:ke, editor of Mohawk Nation News (MNN). She is also a professor of Indigenous Women’s History at Concordia University.

Kanatiiosh Barbara Gray, JD: Kanien’kehá:ka/Ononta’kehá:ka and Deer kahwá:tsire from Ahkwesáhsne, author and Ph.D. candidate for Native American Justice Studies, Arizona State University Law School, Editor of the Haudenosaunee Environmental Task Force (HETF) Newsletter

Karonhienhá:wi / Karonienhawi / Matilda Joslyn Gage : “Sky Carrier”, a suffragist of European ancestery adopted into the Wolf kahwá:tsire of the Kanien’kehá:ka.

Natoway Brian Rice, Ph.D : Kanien’kehá:ka author, assistant professor of aboriginal Education at the University of Winnipeg

Ranatakárias / Ranatakiias / Hanadagywu / Caunotaucarius /Conotocarious / Hanadahguyus : “Town Destroyer”, title given to George Washington when President of the United States because of his ordering the Sullivan-Clark military expedition against the Rotinonshón:ni. The title has been passed on to subsquent U.S. presidents since.

Sakoiatentha Darren Bonaparte : Kanien’kehá:ka author from Ahkwesáhsne, wampumchronicles.com, member of Wasáse Movement

Segoyewatha / Sagoyawatha : Shotinontowane’á:ka and Ohnkaneto:ten, famous orator, “He Keeps Them Awake”, “Red Jacket”, Otetiani, “always ready”

Taiaiake Gerald Alfred, Ph.D : Kanien’kehá:ka author from Kahnawà:ke, adjunct professor of Political Science, Director of Indigenous Governance Programs and the Indigenous Peoples Research Chair at the University of Victoria, member of Wasáse Movement

Teiowí:sonte Thomas Deer : Kanien’kehá:ka journalist and illustrator from Kahnawà:ke, member of Wasáse Movement

Tekanawí:ta / Dekanahwideh / Deginawada / Deganawida : “Two Currents Coming Down”, possibly Kanien’kehá:ka, possibly Wendat adopted by Kanien’kehá:ka. The title is not requickened. “The Peacemaker” is an English sobriquet.

Thaientané:ken / Tyientané:ken / Thayendanegea / Tyendinaga / Joseph Brant : Kanien’kehá:ka and Ohnkaneto:ten, lead many Rotinonshón:ni against the United States. His efforts would help establish the community at Ohswé:ken, the Six Nation’s reserve along the Grand River, and the town of Brantford is named for him, as is the Tyendinaga Mohawk Community at the Bay of Quinte.

Thatotáhrho / Tatotaho / Atotárho / Atotarho / Tododaho / Tadadaho / Adodarho / Adoda:r’ho : Ononta’kehá:ka roiá:ner, keeper of the council fire. Title is requickened. The current Thatotáhrho is Sid Hill.

Tsikónhsase / Tsokansase / Jigonsaseh / Jikohnsaseh / Djikonsa’se : “the mother of nations”, “the peace queen”, “round face” possibly of the Kakwa:ko on east side of the Niagara, provisioned warriors and also administered disputes. Title is requickened.

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karina01 · 2 years ago

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Mirabelle Jones

Mirabelle Jones (they / them) is a queer, non-binary creative technologist, educator, researcher, and transdisciplinary artist focused on the development of interactive and immersive storytelling technologies, educational activism, and ethical AI practices through a lens of intersectional data feminism. In their practice, they design and develop immersive art installations, biofeedback wearables, educational toolkits, mixed reality sculptures, endurance performances, artist’s books, and AI and machine learning-based artworks. They are a PhD candidate at The University of Copenhagen in the Department of Computer Science within the Human-Centered Computing section exploring ethics and AI through creative critical technical practice. They are an affiliate of metaLAB Harvard. They are the founder and curator of AI Performance Space, an online gallery for performance artists around the world working with artificial intelligence. They are a member of Women in Hardware and The Building Trustworthy AI Working Group of Mozilla Festival.

Jones possesses an MFA in Book Art and Creative Writing from Mills College and a BA in Literature from the University of California, Santa Cruz which informs their narrative-centered creative process. They have taught graduate-level interactive art courses at HackadayU and Codame Art & Tech as well as workshops for metaLAB Harvard, Radiona, Catch: Center for Art, Design, and Technology, Gray Area Foundation for the Arts, and Artsformation among others. Previously, they served as a Senior Designer / Developer of Interactive Technology for the award-winning immersive arts collective Meow Wolf. They are the founder of Art Against Assault, a grassroots initiative encouraging the development of creative works which promote advocacy and raise funds for sexual assault and domestic violence survivor resources. Jones’s works have most recently been featured at Harvard Art Museum, Catch: Center for Art Design and Technology, ATA Gallery, Museum Meermanno, the Center for Performance Research, and the Finnish National Opera and Ballet’s Opera Beyond competition. Their works appear in several collections including the One National Gay & Lesbian Archives and the Center on Contemporary Art’s historic Hear Our Voice (the Women’s March on Washington) collection as well as the special collections libraries of the School of the Art Institute Chicago, Syracuse University, University of California Berkeley, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Mills College, and the University of Northern Texas.

Their performances and visual works have been heralded by the Huffington Post, ArtNet, Ms. Magazine, Techtopia, Ingeniøren, Bustle, ATTN, Refinery29, Mic, Sleek Magazine, Feminist Magazine, Deutsche Welle, Google News, and elsewhere. They have received awards and recognition from the Creative Europe Programme of the European Union, Nordic Summer University, the Pollination Project, the Amplifier Foundation, the KALA Arts Institute Fellowship and the College Book Arts Association. They have been a guest speaker and presenter at arts institutions around the world including MIT, Aalborg University, the University of Gothenburg, School of the Art Institute in Chicago, Rhode Island School of Design, and Maryland Institute College of the Arts. They are a former Artist-in-Residence of Catch: Center for Art, Design, and Technology, Women’s Studio Workshop, KALA Art Institute, Codame Labs, University of Illinois (Unit One), Hive Gallery, and Arts Everywhere at UNC as well as a former Recurser.

MEOW WOLF SENTIENT SLIME

"Working with lead artist Oliver Polzin, I created a design for the interactive lighting of a group of sculptures throughout Meow Wolf Denver known as Sentient Slime. Using a combination of pressure sensors and RFID interactivity, we were able to incorporate visitor interactions with the slime to see if they were friends or enemies of the slime. Each visitor would receive different lighting and sound interactivity depending on their relationship and a digital storytelling layer provided a riddle for visitors to solve as they interacted with slimes throughout the exhibit."

MEOW WOLF FROG EGG GARDEN

"I had the pleasure of collaborating with Emmanuelle John on the lighting and sound interactivity for floor two of the Cosmohedron, the Frog Egg Garden, of Meow Wolf Denver. This gorgeous space is covered floor to ceiling in textures with embedded lighting giving an impression that is one part amphibious and one part extra terrestrial. Being huge fans of accessibility and spaces for people to rest, we included illuminated and cushioned benches next to large dome windows that look out over the enormous illuminated forest Numia by Caity Kennedy. Emmanuelle and I loved the idea of having small hand-sized sculptures that could work as powerful controllers for sound and lighting not only in the interior of the room but throughout Numia. In the end, we came up with six designs for sculptures, some of which started with Emmanuelle modeling them in clay then I transformed them into 3D sculptures using a combination of scanning and modeling from scratch. These models were then printed in a semi-translucent SLA reminiscent of glass using a Formlabs2. We created casings for these sculptures to hold side emitting LEDs and capacitive touch plates. We embedded the sculptures in the benches with the result that when people placed their hands on the sculptures they could control shifts in the lighting and sound as well as “shoot” light out throughout the forest. When all six of the sculptures were activated, a special environment was activated in the room and outside as well. We also created a wheelchair-height 3D printed ear sculpture with an embedded microphone that would pick up sounds in the room and mix them into the sound throughout the room and throughout Numia."

"Artificial Intimacy is a project that considers what happens when you produce non-normative chatbots based on diverse identities. This interactive installation has three parts: a video installation, two graphic wall hangings, and an interactive chatbot sculpture. The video installation consists of two video screens that depict Leslie Foster: a queer black bisexual artist whose works concern race, indigenous concepts, gender and identity, and Gorjeoux Moon: a trans non-binary femme poet whose works concern trauma, addiction, sex, and gender, conversing with chatbot versions of themselves. The chatbots were consensually trained on a dataset based on Foster and Moon’s social media profiles. The second part of the installation, the wall hangings, are made of a semi-translucent mesh in a gradient of mauve and gold. They depict silhouettes of Foster and Moon alongside quotes from the video. The third part of the installation is a 3D-printed interactive chatbot sculpture that allows you to talk to either Foster or Moon’s chatbot in a conversation of your choosing."

"The three parts of the installation combine to help the viewer explore: what happens when LGBTQAI and BIPOC individuals become the basis for chatbots? What non-normative values do the chatbots represent and how are these incorporated? The project interrogates gendered and racialized alternatives to normative voice assistant programs through two individuals while asking: what values are incorporated into voice assistant programs and how do these values manifest? It also considers: can we create digital copies of ourselves based on our data alone? As well as exploring subsequent questions such as: how much data is necessary and of what type to make a realistic replica? Do we prefer these kinds of models to normative chatbot systems? If the data is of us, but not us, what exactly separates us from our data?"

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ashadowcalledkei · 1 year ago

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So who else is beyond hyped about not only a fantastic new short campaign bout to start but also Junior Year(!!) finally getting announced? I'm going to have to finally re-do the pics for my Fantasy High dice line soon. But in the meantime ... I did just launch a new dice line inspired by the rest of Dimension 20s seasons.

I haven't done everything, there's still a lot of shorter seasons not represented, but I do have designs for about five more of them already done. But I wanted to launch with these for Unsleeping City, Crown of Candy, Starstruck, Neverafter, Court of Fey and Flowers, and Mentopolis.

If you like these dice, or if you just want to see more pics of them, they're for sale on my etsy.

What's your favorite Dimension 20 campaign? I want to know which one I should make next.

#Dimension 20 #d20 #dice #handmade dice #the unsleeping city #a crown of candy #a starstruck odyssey #neverafter #court of fey and flowers #mentopolis #my work #gray wolf workshop

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theanonymousfoxsimp · 3 years ago

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Lycan!Karl heisenberg x lycan!reader

Reader finds a box of puppies and decides to bring them home,not realizing they're a bunch of wolf pups. Parental instincts kick in for the reader

Short little drabble,no smut,just some good ol fluff

Your lover had gone out to a meeting wit the other lords,leaving you to do chores for the day but he left money for you to get things from the duke. Unfortunately the duke was not in the factory but the village,you knew what precautions to take as you got ready for the long walk to the Duke. Already done cleaning up the shared bedroom and even tidied up his workshop and organized his work for him.

The factory was warmer than it was outside, you stepping outside to feel the chilly air then ran back inside when it was deemed too cold to walk outside in your normal attire. You decided to dress in the spare old coat he gave you,enoying how warm it was when you put it on. It faintly smelt of him if you focused hard enough. You pit on a scarf,some gloves and put an extra layer of clothing on before you left for the duke.

What seemed to be minutes passed but in reality walking to the village took atleast thirty minutes in good weather. Your face was red from the cold as you gathered the bag of money in your hand,rounding the cart to see the duke laughing happily with a villaget you haven't seen. They left as soon as they saw you,a fearful look in their eye as they sped away. The duke only laughed,beconing you to take a look at his wares.

"Anything new?" You asked softly.

"A few coats,some herbs and animal food" he said,gesturing you to the boxes of soft wet foods made for cats and bags of dry food for dogs and a few play pens for small animals.

The duke turned away to grab something,letting you scan over the wares,picking things up to look at them then put it back down. Now deep in thought as the duke handed you Karl's normal order of supplies for cigars,liquor and a few newspapers. You sighed,nothing peaking your interest then nodded at the duke and handed him his lei for the order. A noise brought you and him out of thought,both you and the duke turning to see where it came from.

You followed the small noises,coming up to a bush that had something hidden underneath it. Your nose picked up a familar scent,the scent of a dog that wasn't a lycan. You pushed the bush around to see a box of small puppies that were covered with a few blankets. You took the box out,peeking inside then gasping when a few gray colored puppies peaked their head out. One puppy was a brilliant ebony black while another was a stark snowy white in color. They had their eyes open,looking to be around a few months old if not more.

The duke laughed and called you over,handing you a box of soft canned foods and a bag of dry food. He managed to help you hold the play pen while also holding the box so you won't fall.

"How much will this be?" You asked

"10 lei for all of it" he said cheerfully,you knew the price tag was too low for your liking so you put down the bag of lei then walked off,ignoring how the duke called after you to give the money back. All you were focussed on was getting the puppies back and not run into any of your fellow lycans.

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The trip back to the factory was silent for karl minus the crunching of snow beneath his feet. He had passed the duke and was given a bag of lei without any words spoken. He nodded his head in a kind way,even cracking a smile before walking back the rest of the way to the factory. He could pick up your scent,the snow picking back up and covering it up but he could always tell between yours and a lowly lycan.

When he got back to the factory,it was oddly silent minus the machinery in the lower parts of the factory. He closed the massive doors without even turning to, now quickly making his way down the stairs to find you. He sniffed the air,finding your scent mixed with one of a dog-or multiple if he could tell through the scents. He followed it to the shared bedroom you both slept in,fearing that a lycan got in and hurt you.

He heard the sounds before he turned the corner,a tiny howling sound then you happily laughing after. He heard you howl which proceeded to make a Tiny chorus of howls fill the factory. He took careful steps to the door,seeing you in a rather large playpen with a box on the outside of it.

"Oh you are so fierce!" You said in a playful way as a puppy snapped at your finger,growling when you let it bite at your finger and tug at it. Ir didn't hurt at all,enjoying the way the puppy growled and nipped at your finger.

"Now now..." he started when he leaned over the playpen,the ebony black puppy growling at him and stood inbetween you and him. He took his hat off then his sunglasses,stepping into the playpen then sat down next to your nervous form.

"Sorry..." you said softly,expecting him to lash out but his reaction was the opposite,a large happy smile appeared when the puppy jumped into his lap and growled at him.

"Why are you sorry? These little things are adorable!" He said loudly. A part in him wanted to scold you for bringing said puppies into the factory but he knew you would do this within reason. He figured out the reason when he took his gloves off and felt how cold they were.

"I think they think I'm their mother/father-" you said,laying down to demonstrate as the puppies swarmed to your side and crawled on top of you to lay there,nipping at your clothing then stopped when karl tried to grab one. The black puppy snapped at him,growling as he grabbed his sibling but you sat up and began to pet the small pup.

Karl could see the happiness in your eyes,your expression clear of any unhappiness as you watched the bundles play with one another. He could see the joy when one came close and decided to lick his hand in order to get his attention. Karl scooped the puppy up,laughing at the shocked look on its face when he held it like a baby. He could get a good look at it now,determining what kind of dog it was. Only thats when he realized it wasn't a dog pup.

It was a wolf pup and so were the others

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #lycan!heisenberg x reader #lord heisenberg

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nikkicollections · 2 years ago

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Currently Obtainable Masculine Hair

Sporty Teenager (Clothes Store)

Untamed Heart

Rising Star

Elegant Nobleman (Maiden V1: 3-12)

Brother Next Door

Snow Wolf

Perfect Senior (Clothes Store)

Mysterious Guest

Fantasy Emissary

Scientist (Clothes Store, Maiden V1: 3-11)

Coffee Shop Owner

Silver-wings Hero (Clothes Store)

Ice Warrior (Maiden V1: 2-3)

Cute Boy

Autumn Maple

Legal Belle (Clothes Store)

Legal Belle·Gold

Legal Belle·Platinum

Romeo (Clothes Store)

Romeo·Black

Romeo·Gold

Pigeon Boy (Pavilion of Mystery drop)

Gentleman Sapphire (Association Store)

Sapphire's Thief (Association Store - Gentleman Sapphire evolution)

Saint Nun (Princess V1: 9-3)

Luxury Gentleman (Maiden V1: 10-1)

Warmth Nearby (Time Yard - Bond In Distance suit completion reward)

Clutter (Maiden V1: 14-S3)

Clutter·Black

Gray Shine (Clothes Store)

Son of Storm (recipe crafting)

Floating Dream (Princess V1: 16-S2)

Fox Talk·Me (Clothes Store)

Royal Physician (recipe crafting)

Fashion Fro (Clothes Store)

Snow Melting (Time Yard - Wind's Whisper suit completion reward)

Lunar Halo (Time Yard - Galactic Classics suit completion reward)

Similar Blonde Brother (recipe crafting)

Ring of Night Shade (Clothes Store)

Speed Short Hair (recipe crafting)

Rapid Short Hair (recipe crafting - Alumni Ace suit completion reward)

Source of Inspiration (recipe crafting)

Night Without Dream (recipe crafting)

Silver Shade (Clothes Store)

Confidence Radian (Fantasy Workshop)

Silver Radian

Linen Radian

Night Judgement (recipe crafting)

Sharp Wind (Maiden V2: 6-S4)

Windward Blade

Night Fair (Secret Shop - Vanity Fair)

Silver Moon Night (Secret Shop - Kindred Earl)

Promise and Secret (Secret Shop - Magic Pocket Watch)

Favorite Brother (Secret Shop - Nekomata)

Bright Pink Mood (Secret Shop - Perfect Hunter)

#love nikki #masculine #hair

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crash-hawk · 3 years ago

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Know Thyself (Know Thy Enemy)

Greetings Kaleidoscope AU, Last Life, and Kaleidoscope!Last Life enjoyers (all five of you), and welcome to another out-of-order installment of Voices. Will it make sense to most of my followers? Absolutely not. I regret nothing.

Takes place roughly simultaneously with the events of burning remains, light the funeral pyre/branding the truth on a world of liars, which are in turn inspired by the events of Last Life sessions 6 and 7. More about Keralis’ backstory can be read in chapter 4 of Hurricane.

Meanwhile, in the real world...

Voices

Chapter 6: Know Thyself (Know Thy Enemy)

__________________________________________

They are all gone away,

The House is shut and still,

There is nothing more to say.

Through broken walls and gray

The winds blow bleak and shrill:

They are all gone away.

Edward Arlington Robinson, The House on the Hill

_______________________________________________

The fact of the matter is this: they all know.

Ren wakes in the darkest part of the morning with the wind screaming in the eaves and rain pounding against his windows like handfuls of thrown sand. It’s the hour of the wolf and the stone walls of his bedchamber press in like the walls of a dark ravine.

He finds Martyn at the kitchen table, sobbing inconsolably over a meaningless pile of tooled copper and glass lenses, and he knows.

There are books missing from his library, though he’s unaware of it. Old books, their leather covers dark and cracked with age, the vellum inside crumbling. The runes inscribed within would confuse and terrify even the most accomplished mages--they draw on dark energies from the dawn of existence itself, the shadow matter that counterweights every atom, the forbidden names of horrors long banished and forgotten.

The books are hidden now in a secret chamber inside a manufactory workshop a league away, accessible only by the person who knows how to open the mechanical lock. He pretends he does not remember taking them, or why, or for what purpose, just like he pretends he isn’t relieved that the first of the great autumn storms have come, obscuring the stars.

Across the grassy town common at the heart of Boatem someone is screaming, a broken, cheated howl, full of sickness and madness and grief. Impulse hides inside his darkened workshop and pretends it’s only the wind he hears, but he knows. He knows.

Scar has not slept in over twenty-four hours. He refuses, as stubbornly as he’s ever refused anything in his life. If he does not sleep, he does not dream. Dreams shouldn’t be anything to fear, because dreams aren’t real, but Scar is afraid nonetheless. Because he knows.

They all know, but to speak of that knowledge, to turn over that rock and risk finding out that the others all see the same worms crawling underneath, would break them. So they pretend, and they wait for the night to end.

But deep inside, they know.

_______________________________________________

Keralis is fine.

His basement is flooded and half of his front yard has crumbled into the sea and the wind is shrieking beneath his eaves, making sleep impossible, but it’s fine. He’s fine.

The others are going to tease him, sure. They’d told him not to build on the little sand reef in the bay near his friend’s tower, that the Northern seas are stormy in the fall and winter and that he’d end up like the pigs in the children’s tale, but he’d had a picture in his head: a pretty white house with a neat slate roof on a little island in a mountain lake, surrounded by trees and flowers. Had it been his house, once? He doesn’t know, but he’d wanted so desperately to believe he was remembering, and the need to recreate the image had been overwhelming. Grian had already teased him a bit, had made a joke of taking out an insurance policy on his attic, but he’d also told him how beautiful the house was, how impressed he was, and the compliment--from Grian!--had been enough to keep him floating on air for a straight week.

He’s not afraid of storms, not afraid of thunder, not afraid of the dark. He’s not afraid of being alone in the house. The wind is not going to blow his house down, and nothing is coming to take him away from here. If he can just get to sleep, he’ll be fine. Sleep fixes everything: it was one of the first things Bubbles–BDubs–taught him, and BDubs has never lied to him. He’ll wake up and the storm will be over and he can bail out his basement and survey the damages.

He can’t sleep.

Lightning flashes purple-white outside his bedroom windows, and the crash of thunder that follows comes so fast he doesn’t even have a chance to count, shaking the house like a mortar explosion. A high-pitched little squeak escapes Keralis’ throat.

“Keralis,” he mumbles to himself, twisting his covers in his hands. “My name is Keralis. My friends are BDubs, Tango, Etho, Iskall, Gem, and Pearl.” It’s his touchstone, his litany against fear. As long as he can remember himself, remember the names of his friends, he knows that he’s safe, that he’s alright. “My name is Keralis. My friends are BDubs, Tango, Etho, Gem, and Pearl. My name is Ke–”

There’s another blast of thunder, this one so loud it seems to shake the foundations of the earth itself, and in the split second before the lightning whites his vision out entirely Keralis sees that the clock on his wall–the clock that never slows down or speeds up or winds backwards or forwards, the clock that’s never wrong–has stopped.

The panic that he’d been so bravely suppressing is fully present and raving now, digging hot-cold claws into his chest, and he can’t stay here anymore. Something is happening, something awful cloaking itself in the storm, and he’s suddenly certain that his friends are in terrible danger. Saying their names’ isn’t enough to drive that certainty away–he needs them, needs them to tell him that he’s alright, needs to see with his own eyes that they’re alright.

He’s stumbling out of his bed almost before he’s even aware of it, hardly remembering to grab a lantern and pull on his boots and his raincloak before rushing headlong out the door towards his tiny boat dock.

The boat, he realizes, already soaked and shivering before he’s made it a dozen steps. What if it’s swamped or sunk, or smashed?

Never mind. Never mind! I’ll swim if I have to! It isn’t far, anyway. BDubs’ tower is right across the bay, he can see its crescent-shaped shadow even through the dark curtains of rain. Only–

Only there are no lights burning in the windows. Not even one.

He’s asleep, is all. Of course he is, he’d sleep through the end of the world if the end of the world happened at night. Oh, gods, it feels like the end of the world right now. He has to get to them. Has to.

By some perverse miracle the boat is still tied to the dock, half full of water and tossed by the waves but still intact and afloat. He jumps in with a splash, fastening the lantern to the iron hook at the boat’s prow and fumbling at the rope with shaking fingers. The oars fight him, the waves trying to shove him back into the dock. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t capsize. Adrenaline alone keeps him going, keeps him fighting the storm with a strength he never knew he had (though some dim part of him thinks he remembers–or almost remembers–other times when he’d been afraid like this, afraid enough to fight, though he can’t remember which where…or which when.)

Some yards from shore the waves finally get the best of him, overturning the boat and spilling him into the churning surf. He comes up choking just in time for another wave to slam into him from behind, smashing him into the rocks. Pain flares in his right knee and his side and he flails desperately for a handhold, scrambling to pull himself up onto the rocks before the next wave can drown him or dash his head open.

He lays panting on the rocks for a moment, fighting to get his breath back. His limbs feel weak and wobbly but he can’t allow himself to shut down now. Beneath the howling of the wind and the rain and the rumble of thunder he can hear a horse screaming somewhere nearby. Lulu.

“Bubbles!” he tries to shout, though it comes out more a croak than anything else “BDubs if you can hear me, hang on! I’m coming!!!”

He staggers down the path that leads to BDubs’ dooryard, dependent on the lightning to see by. The knee he’d struck on the rocks tries to buckle underneath him, but he hardly feels it beneath the newest surge of adrenaline.

Halfway into BDubs’ front yard he stops, panting, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. Even in the dark it looks wrong. Tangles of thorny vines seem to have sprouted up everywhere–even over the stairs leading to BDubs’ front door and the door itself. It doesn’t make any sense. BDubs hates thornbushes, even blackberries, roots them out any chance he gets. Why would he let–

The lightning flashes again, and suddenly Keralis’s throat locks up. A horrid little wheezing sound escapes him, the sound of someone trying to suck air through a thin reed.

Not thornbushes or berry-brambles: rose-vines. And the roses are black.

No. No. No no no no no…

Somewhere far away he can hear Lulu screaming again, kicking madly at the door of her stall. He wants to close his eyes but he can’t, certain that if he does he’ll open them to white marble archways and a white courtyard with a white tree in the center surrounded by neat bushes full of lovely, deadly black roses, and there’ll be a book, there’s always a book, and he’ll open the book because he always does, and what then? What then??

A lightning bolt strikes the rod atop BDubs’ crescent-moon tower, sending down a shower of blinding purple sparks. Keralis screams, but at least the scream has the effect of unlocking Keralis’ lungs, allowing oxygen to rush back in before he faints.

He can’t get to BDubs. The roses will kill him--hideously--before he can even fight his way through them to the door, and he doesn’t have so much as a dagger. He staggers to the horse stalls instead, praying Lulu doesn’t kick him to death in her terror. But she calms when he approaches, seeming to recognize him–a tiny glimmer of hope, or luck, amid the fear and chaos, and Keralis grabs hold of it like a lifeline.

“Easy,” he whispers, stroking the wet velvet of her muzzle gently. “Easy, girl. That’s it. We’re going to go get help.”

Swinging himself up into the saddle is more difficult than he’d hoped–his ribs and his knee protest strenuously, demanding he remain on the ground. He ignores them. BDubs is in terrible trouble–maybe the others as well. He has to find help.

A minute’s fumbling later and he’s out of the yard, kicking Lulu into a gallop down the road towards Boatem.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Don’t stray from the path. Don’t stray from the path. Don’t stray from the path. Don’t stray from the path.

The old warning chases him as he spurs Lulu through the pitch-black, wind-torn woods, looping over and over, crowding out thought until he wants to scream. He tightens his hands on Lulu’s reins as he rides, resisting the urge to cover his ears, rip his hair out, claw the words out of his brain with his fingernails. A treebranch lashes his the face, making him scream; Lulu answers the sound with a rear and a shriek of her own. He can’t even see the path. All the lanterns along the road have been blown out or knocked over or washed away, and his hood is clinging to his face. He can’t keep going at this pace, the horse will break a leg, his own broken ribs are screaming at him, every breath a hot knife in his side. But he can’t stop, either. The trees are grabbing at him, the forest is closing in, he doesn’t know where (when) he is. He’s barely even sure anymore that he knows who he is–

“Keralis,” he gasps over the wind and the splash of Lulu’s hooves, hardly aware of it. “My name is Keralis. My friends are BDubs, Tango, Etho, Iskall, Gem, and Pearl. My name is Keralis. My friends are BDubs, Tango, Etho, Iskall, Gem, and Pearl. My name is Keralis--”

Many-colored light glimmers through the trees just ahead. A town, with redstone-powered lamps that don’t go out when the storms come. He knows the name of it, if he can just remember…

It comes, after a moment, and Keralis nearly sobs with relief. Boatem. Pearl’s town. Pearl will be home, her house will be warm and dry and lit. She’ll be able to help him cut through the awful tangles of wither-roses, help him break the time-locks on BDubs’ door. He’ll be mad, for a little bit, maybe, but it’s better than leaving him trapped in his tower, lying on the floor behind a locked door, with a concussion or a broken arm or maybe bleeding in the middle of the worst storm of the year (or worse, his traitor mind whispers, gone, gone, taken by the time-eater, taken away some where some when and you’ll never find him again.)

He spurs Lulu forward for one final burst of speed. There are tears running down his face, mixing with the rainwater. He doesn’t notice.

Pearl will know what to do.

----------------------------------------------

By the time he reaches the lit archway that marks the entrance to Boatem village, the rain has stopped. The wind, too. He can still hear waves crashing at Boatem Harbor, and the distant rumble of thunder, but even those sounds are muted. The storm seems to hold its breath.

Somehow, Keralis thinks, the stillness is almost worse than the storm. Eerie isn’t the right word, but it’s the only descriptor his exhausted mind can produce.

He shoves his sodden hood back and glances around the town common, wishing he’d brought a spyglass. There are no people anywhere outside that he can see–only logical, in the midst of a storm that ten minutes ago was still half a hurricane–but he can see a light or two still flickering in some of the windows: in Impulse’s manufactory, in the student dormitories, and…there!

In Pearl’s porthole-shaped living room window, a beeswax candle glows. The rush of relief that washes over him is almost enough to send him toppling from the saddle in a faint. His friend is home, and there are no horrid black roses blocking his path. There is safe harbor here…but first things first. Talk to Pearl. Help BDubs.

“Pearl?” he calls, trotting Lulu up to her front gate. “Pearl, it’s Keralis! Are you awake?”

No answer. Only another roll of thunder, low and far out to sea. Keralis shivers.

She’s asleep, that’s all. It’s been storming, and it’s the middle of the night besides. Sure. Except…except that’s exactly what he’d thought about BDubs, too, hadn’t he.

He can feel his aching lungs starting to lock up on him again. He forces himself to breathe, and never mind how it hurts. Go and knock, you godsdamned ninny, you’re wasting time. BDubs’ time.

He climbs clumsily down out of Lulu’s saddle and hobbles up to Pearl’s door, his injured leg dragging stiffly behind him. “Pearl, please, it’s Keralis! I need your help! Bubbles is–”

He raises his hand to knock as he calls, and the door unlatches at the first rap, swinging open just a crack.

Of course it’s not locked, no one here locks their doors…and the storm, the wind must have…must have…

But he doesn’t believe it. The premonition that had come over him at his house when he’d seen the stopped clock–that something terrible had happened–is happening–re-asserts itself, and with it the terror. Even after a lifetime of hunches and premonitions and dreams that have an eerie habit of coming true, even with most of his memories older than a year gone to blank white static, he somehow knows he’s never felt anything like this before. It’s so strong it’s a physical, agonizing weight, like being locked in an iron maiden.

He pushes the door open and wills himself into the funny little ship-shaped house on numb, leaden legs. “Pearl, please! Please, if you’re here, please answer me!!”

There’s a sound from the back bedroom, a rustle and a blurry moan, the voice of a sleeping person caught in a deep dream…or a nightmare.

He opens the door to her bedroom and she’s there, tangled up in her covers on the big four-poster bed. Her brow is furrowed and her eyes are squeezed tight shut in a strange expression that’s half fear and half…something else, something Keralis doesn’t know how to describe or identify, not even to himself, only that it makes him afraid.

A hiss from behind him makes him jump; he whirls to see Pearl’s cat, Nugget, backed into a corner, his back arched, his night-black fur standing on end. He feels it too.

Pearl moans again, and Keralis stumbles to her side, reaching out to shake her awake. Whatever the nightmare is, though, it’s stubborn. It’s not letting his friend go. A thin thread of anger breaks through the fear, and he welcomes it. Anger is better than terror.

“Pearl. Pearl! It’s me, Keralis, you’re dreaming, you’re having a nightmare. Please, Pearl, wake up!”

Pearl’s eyes open.

Keralis chokes back a sob, afraid he might start openly weeping if he lets it get all the way out. “It’s okay, Pearl. It’s me, it’s just me.”

Pearl blinks, seeming to struggle to bring her eyes into focus. She doesn’t speak–her brain, Keralis reasons, probably hasn’t caught up with the rest of her yet, something he can very much relate to.

His skin feels strange. It takes him a moment to place the sensation, to realize that what he’s feeling is every hair on his body, standing on end.

(something’s wrong)

“I’m sorry I had to wake you like that,” he continues, aware that his voice sounds high and rambly but unable to help it. “Something…something’s happening, Pearl, something bad. I think. I think it came with the storm. I went to BDubs’ house first but Pearl…there are…” He can’t make himself say the words wither roses, can’t bring himself to voice his deepest terror: I think it sent the storm. I think it hurt BDubs, maybe took BDubs, and I’m so afraid I’m next–

Pearl still isn’t speaking. She’s just…staring at him. Her eyes are glowing faintly in the dark bedroom–Pearl’s eyes always have a faint glow to them…but is it the same glow? And Nugget. Nugget isn’t just hissing anymore. Nugget is yowling.

(something’s wrong)

“Pearl?” Keralis whispers. His tongue feels like a little dried-up plant. He can feel his heartbeat, fast and thready, in the back of his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Pearl says. Her voice is calm, placid, almost drugged. It doesn’t sound like her voice at all.

“Pearl, what–”

“I’m sorry,” his friend repeats, in that same calm voice, and suddenly there’s a spear in her hand, her eyes flashing green like the eyes of a creature caught in the beam of a redstone lamp. “I have to.”

Keralis throws himself backward just as Pearl leaps up from the bed, the curved blade of the spear drawing a thin line of fire along his right shoulder. That pain is almost instantly swallowed by a shocking bolt of agony as his bad leg collapses underneath him, spilling him onto his butt as Pearl thrusts the spear at him again.

“Pearl, stop!!” he screams, somehow managing to roll awkwardly away in the barest nick of time. Had he thought he was afraid before? Had he really? Silly Keralis. Silly, foolish, naive Keralis.

Pearl lunges for him again, but gets caught in the covers, tumbling ungracefully off the side of the bed with an “oof” that threatens to send a burst of wild, hysterical laughter bubbling out of him. He crawls backwards away from her on his hands and heels, flailing for the door.

She’s still dreaming–somehow she’s still asleep and still dreaming. Got to wake her up somehow, but how–

“Your name is Pearl,” Keralis shouts desperately as he backs away, unable to think of anything else. “Your name is Pearl, your friends are Grian, Scar, Impulse, Gem, and Keralis. Keralis, that’s me. Please put down the spear, Pearl, you’re dreaming, you’ll…you’ll hurt yourself. Your name is Pearl. Your friends are Grian, Scar, Impulse, Gem, and Keralis. Your name is Pearl–”

Pearl has finally managed to disentangle herself and her spear from the quilt. She looms over him, seeming taller than he remembers, taller than the bedposts, taller than the room. He can see his own blood gleaming red on the edge of the spearpoint in the dim light of the single candle on the bedside table.

“Your name is Pearl,” Keralis continues. His voice is starting to fade; he feels like he wants to throw up. “Your friends are Grian, Scar, Impulse, Gem, and Keralis. Please, Pearl, please wake up. Please remember. Your name is Pearl. Your friends are Grian, Scar, Impulse, Gem, and…”

“...Keralis?” Pearl suddenly whispers.

“Yes,” Keralis sobs, tears blurring his vision. “Yes, I’m Keralis, that’s me, it’s me–”

The bloodied spear falls from Pearl’s hand, clattering unceremoniously to the floor before vanishing altogether. The green, too, vanishes from Pearl’s eyes. “Oh my Gods,” she whispers, her voice thick with horror. “Oh my Gods, Keralis, I’m so sorry…”

He crawls to his friend with the last bit of control he has left over his limbs just as she falls to her knees beside him. Her arms wrap around him, and he can feel the way she’s shaking. He doesn’t have enough left in him to process anything else–not his injuries, or his terror over BDubs and whatever nightmare he’s still facing, or hurricanes or wither roses or that awful dead green glare he’d seen in Pearl’s eyes. All he knows is that there’s someone holding him, someone who needs comfort as much as he does, someone who knows him and cares about him and remembers his name, and for a little while at least, the darkness is kind.

#Last Life SMP #Tales From the SMP #Fanfiction #Kaleidoscope AU #Keralis #PearlescentMoon

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magalidragon · 4 years ago

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practical magic | a teaser

a/n: I’m not sure if I will finish this before Halloween or if I want to split it up or just have it be a 20k long fic, but this has been planned since before my hiatus...I want to get it done before I take my break and hope this lights a fire for me to finish!

On the Spring Solstice, several nights later, after the aunts had gone to sleep and Viserys had left to go stay at a friend's house, Dany stole downstairs to the workshop. She knew there was something that could help her, ensure she would never love anyone, and she would never have the curse that prompted all the Targaryen women to lose the men they love and die of heartbreak in return. To be so consumed all you saw was revenge and anger.

She would make sure she was the only Targaryen woman who would never fall in love.

And maybe even break the curse.

Balerion joined her, slinging at her ankles, meowing up while she climbed atop a stool and tugged down the Tembyr hen perzys se ānogar. The Book of Fire and Blood. She was cold that night, even with her dragon blood, and the breeze coming off the Narrow Sea rustled the plants and flowers filling the space around her. She tucked her hair behind her ear and turned the brittle pages carefully, reverently. It took her time, but she was very good at Valyrian, and could read the titles and the spells.

She passed over the one that the aunts had used for Joanna-- the Suffering Spell-- and finally found it. It was on the page just after it, oddly enough. Dany thought it made sense, because to love, you suffered. And she would not have that, ever.

It was the True Love Spell.

“Drēje jorrāelagon," she murmured. True love.

She picked up the dragonglass bowl, sitting innocuously in the center of the battered worktable and began to walk around the workroom and the conservatory and even out the open arched glass doors to the gardens glowing under the bright full moon. It was good that it was a full moon, it would make the spell more powerful and binding, because full moons were magical. And everything was done under the light of the stars, so the gods could see them.

Balerion meowed up at her and she spoke to him, quietly, as she plucked Queen's Lace and Meereenese Lilies and anise and fennel and lavender and sage. “I will not break my heart because I will create true love with a man who does not exist," Dany told him. She sighed, thinking of the man in her dream, the prince, the king, the knight, the soldier...he would not exist so she could love him freely and never have a broken heart.

"He will have hair as black as a raven's wing," she murmured, touching a black feather that had fluttered to the floor and tossed it into the bowl. "And eyes as gray as steel...but soft like new fallen snow." She sighed, dreamily. "And he will wield a sword and urn with the wolves, and he will be kind and gentle, but strong and fierce too. He can flip pancakes and his favorite color will be..." she chuckled, thinking of a color no one liked. "Black."

She set the bowl down and went to the dying fire, reaching her palm in and scooping up the pulsing orange coals left behind. She set them gently in the bowl, smiling and spotting a vase beside her. "And he will be the child of a blue winter rose, of winter and cold, of ice to my fire." She plucked the soft petaled blue winter rose from the vase and crushed the petals under her palms, watching the remnants turn to dust the moment they hit the coals.

She waved her hand around it and whispered, watching the smoke curl and puff, and carried the bowl to the open door, the wind gathering it and carrying it away, with the soft howl of a wolf and image of a white one in the smoke, rushing off to the sky.

"He will be my true love," she whispered.

And he will never exist.

#jonerys #jonerys au #my fics #my moodboards #fic tease #I hope this will be done soon!

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tact-and-impulse · 4 years ago

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Shinkane Week 2021 Day 6

A crossover with the light novel series Sugar Apple Fairytale! The first 2 volumes were already translated but I hope someday that it’ll be picked up again or licensed.

Fairytale

Initially, he thought he could take advantage of her naïveté. She was obviously a traveler, alone and with wide eyes surveying the surroundings. And in need of a warrior fairy like himself, for protection on the road. After all, that was why she bought him.

His left wing, long separated from the rest of his body, was now in her possession, and he braced himself for the inevitable squeezing, for his will to be bent to her liking. But she never did. Instead, she offered her other hand, like he was another human.

“I’m Akane. Nice to meet you.”

“…Hello.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Call me whatever you like. You’re my owner.”

She frowned. “Don’t fairies have names?”

“We do, but people don’t really care.”

“I care.” She looked terribly earnest. She really was on her first trip away from whatever small town she hailed from.

“‘Kougami’ is fine.” A part of his full name would do.

“Alright, Kougami-san.” She smiled, and he dragged his stare to the gray sheen of his wing, to remind himself that he was under her control.

***

His new owner was far too defenseless.

As their wagon headed for the capital city, she tried to ward off the silence with conversation. She had been trained in sugarcraft by her late grandmother and this was her first competition. Silver sugar was blessed by the gods, but also inherently difficult to work with. With her skills, she hoped to do well enough to be promoted.

“Not to win the grand prize?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“As long as I make something that only I could have, something that I’m proud of, even years from now, I’ll be happy enough. And I’ll give you your wing back, once we get there.”

“Sure, you will. Until you decide you like having someone follow all your orders and don’t want to release me.” It had happened before, multiple times.

“I’m not changing my mind, Kougami-san. And I won’t give you an order either. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Then, why don’t you hand over my wing now?” There was a flicker of hesitation, and he leaned back, his suspicions confirmed. Despite her doe eyes, she was just like the others. “As I thought.”

Unable to reply, she focused on driving the horses. It was supposed to be a scenic road. Then, in his periphery, he spotted four silhouettes on their own mounts, deliberately swerving towards them.

“We have company.” He warned her. “Probably heard crafters like you would be traveling this way.”

Akane snapped the reins, but with the sugar-laden wagon, they could only travel so fast. She glanced behind. “Are they armed?”

“Looks like it.” His elbow nudged her side. “Order me.”

“What?!”

“I can’t do anything unless you give me an order. Go ahead, twist my wing.”

“I won’t do that. I said I wouldn’t.” Stubborn, even when her life was at stake. The horses continued on, but their pursuers were catching up. Their rough, weather-worn faces slowly became visible.

“If you won’t, then we may not make it to your destination.”

The bandits rode closer. Their eyes traveled hungrily, not only upon the sugar barrels, but his owner as well.

Finally, she relented. “I’m not ordering you, I’m asking you to protect me.”

“Close enough.” Flaring out his right wing, he jumped off. He summoned his sword, black and electric blue, and went to work. Too easily, the enemies were rendered to crimson smears. It wasn’t much of a fight, but after so long, his skin was buzzing. The thrill of battle. He almost missed the wagon turning around.

“…stop…”

But her voice was too far away.

“I said, stop!”

And she must have twisted his wing because he spasmed and fell to the blood-soaked ground.

***

When he came to, he was curled on his side, and Akane was leaning over him.

“You’re awake! Thank goodness. Here, drink this.” She held a cup to his mouth, and he tentatively sipped. Coffee, but the sweetness was refined silver sugar. At the taste, it was as if a moonbeam was cast upon him, closing his wounds and rejuvenating with pure divine essence.

“…You didn’t leave me behind.”

“I wouldn’t have. I still have something that’s yours.”

In another life, he might have accused her of eating too much of her own supplies. But he looked directly at her, saying. “I feel better. You still have enough to compete?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be alright.”

They reached the capital by noon, and once they passed the main gate, she held out his wing. “Thank you so much, Kougami-san. I wouldn’t have made it here without you.”

He eyed her. “You’re really giving it back?”

“I meant what I said.”

He reached for his wing, afraid she’d pull away, but at the gossamer feel, energy surged through him. It glowed and flew to his back, fitting in its rightful place. After years of forced servitude, he was finally free. He slid off the wagon, stretching as he hadn’t in a long time. He felt like he could take a deep breath. “Thanks.”

She beamed and pressed a wrapped handkerchief into his hands. “Before I go, this is just a little gift from me. I wish you well.” Then, she bowed and headed further into the city.

After he watched her disappear, he opened the fabric. Sparkling in the midday light, there was a tiny silver sugar wolf. Its ears were bent towards a sound only it could hear; the paws were poised in mid-step, the tail in a perfect curl.

“Damn it.” Pocketing the sculpture, he followed the signs to the competition, but the area was closed to participants only. Public viewing would be at dusk, with final judging at the end of the hour. Reluctantly, he left but even before the sun went down, he was loitering outside.

His intuition told him what her handiwork was, a spiraling arrangement of delicate flowers and leaves, studded with dewdrops. It reminded him of his early days of existence in the wildwoods, oddly nostalgic. However, the adjacent sculpture was very similar. Had the crafter cheated? The promotions were announced first, and he spotted her, flushed with joy as her name was called. In her wake, there was another girl, with long black hair and cold eyes. Then, the prizes were delegated but at the first runner-up, there was a snag. Two sculptures had caught the judges’ eyes, but there could only be one winner, who would be granted permission to tour the country and learn from the other masters to hone their craft. A tiebreaker round would decide the victor.

There might have been trepidation in the other girl’s face, but Akane shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I’ve used up my supplies.” An automatic forfeit. But he didn’t want her to stop here, she deserved more. And he was partially responsible for the decrease.

He gritted his teeth and stepped forward. “Not all of it.” Ignoring the stunned looks of the crowd, he held up the sugar wolf. “You made this for me. You can break it down and recreate it. With your skills, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Her lips parted, surprised at his presence, but she determinedly took back the sculpture. “I can.”

The girls were given fifteen minutes, which seemed to drag on. The other had copied the wolf with great detail given that she’d only seen it once, but Akane had altered hers. Instead, it was leaping, balanced on one front foot and with a prouder demeanor than before. The judges’ eyes didn’t betray them, and Akane was rightfully declared this year’s master sugarcrafter, as the other girl was dragged away by officials. The extra round had been twofold, to uncover foul play too.

As the city descended into celebration, he hung in the growing shadows, but she still found him. “Kougami-san! Thank you, for helping me.”

“It would’ve been a shame if your hard work was put to waste.” He evasively replied. “Are you still planning to go home?”

“That was what I first thought, but…” She was thoughtful. “I wonder if there’s more I can learn, if I visit other sugarcrafting workshops.”

“Then, go. You can send a letter home and continue your journey.”

“What about you? I thought you would have left already. You’re free, you don’t have to follow humans’ orders anymore.”

“No, but I can do what I like. And right now, I think I’d like to see other sugarcrafting workshops.” At his answer, her smile was radiant.

In the morning, they bought fresh supplies and filled the sugar barrels. Settling into the wagon, he took the reins as she began sketching new ideas for sculptures. And so, they traveled on, past the horizon’s edge.

#shinkaneweek #shinkane #psycho pass

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