#hes a bard of doom

[computerpeople]

not all of our alters have godtiers but i and mikey both do and we have no idea which one would win over the other if we played sburb. I REALLY HOPE MINE WINS (MAGE OF HOPE) SO SO SO BAD BUT REALISTICALLY MIKES WOULD

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

(based on the Fool from the Rider-Waite tarot deck)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Started a new book series, and has been a journey...an Odyssey, if you will.

[aotearoa20]

Sauron invented gunpowder as like an after thought. Put it in like a 'this could be used for nefarious purposes' box for later.

And it worked, the Numenorians got hold of it at some point and when Tar-Mairon came finally, he looked over their work with a odd sort of pride?

All this to say Olorin smuggled gunpowder back into Middle Earth and created fireworks in the name of redeeming twisted creations (and in hopes of riling up the fledgling dark lord wherever it was he was hiding)

[lanternlightss]

Lantern i want to share one thought that i just had about siren!Venti.

He must be buff af. Like. My grandpa had a wheelchair and almost never asked people for help with it and basically carried himself all around the city, Venti is doing that And taking themselves out of the water only using their arms, dragging all that mass? All that fish muscle out of the water and still dragging their tail all around when on land? That fibsh is BUFF.

looks at the outlines for future chapters and smiles. oh they are very buff

NO BUT YEAH same ol venti trying to downplay what power they hold 🙏 except its not working for them others have an approximate knowledge to what kind of range that power is 😔😔 sorry to say venti but you are not being slick with casually heaving a shelf over and pretending to be exhausted after happily dragging it. you poke at the fish chest and it feels like a solid metal wall and its being used to give the perfect hug. god bless if the tail is laid on a lap full weight because …. Rip ………..

its like those big dogs breed for guarding and they try to initiate play 😭😭

[tabbyrocks]

STINKY dungeon meshi oc, Taiyoashi!!

He's 121 (about 24 years old) and is unfortunately a chilchuck kisser.

I'm not expecting this post to gain really any sort of traction but I just like him alot so I'm sharing him.

He's an elf (obviously). He tampers in ancient magic that reverses aging. He only knows how to age things back by a few months or at most a year. this interest in this kind of magic is due to chilchuck having a very short lifespan compared to his.

I would like to say it takes Taiyoashi and chilchuck a LONG while before they get to the point where they are open about their feelings for each other. Taiyoashi loved chilchuck from the start, and was incredibly bad at hiding it. And because of this chilchuck knew. And boy oh boy was this man STRESSED about it. Despite the idea of someone from work having a crush on him being decently upsetting, the real problem here is Taiyoashi's respect for chilchuck. Out of everyone in the party, Tai has been the one who treated him as an equal. And he's an elf, for Christ's sake!! A long lived race has never seen him the way Taiyoashi does.

And it makes chilchuck want to vomit.

He can't fall for this. He cannot get his work and personal life mixed. He cannot love again. The love he could share ended with his wife, and he will not screw up his life over something as stupid as this. not again. Never again.

Tldr: the yaoi is doomed because of chilchucks bad love life, self loathing, and poopy communication skills. And tai being hopelessly in love with a man who (seemingly) wants nothing to do with him

[themoonatmingitaw]

A gift for a friend's boyfriend of his Tav, Guillaume, a Shield Dwarf Bard of the College of Lore, and god's favourite princess.

He tried and failed to romance Shadowheart, so the actual situation is something more like this:

(Serilde is also a Bard of Lore, they are canonically friends since college)

[quirinah]

ive gone completely insane

[perhaps-only-a-mirage]

oh btw, have some jaspers too.. god tier jaspers. Thief of Rage

[battlevann]

ppl who customize/edit godtier outfits... i love you

[mothmore]

do you think victor frankenstein is more mage of light or more bard of doom

oh god robo you threw a tough one at me ,,,,

my initial instinct tells me that victor’s aspect is light because of its main association with knowledge , of course. and him being a mage makes sense because he knows how smart he is and ends up able to get to where he wants by manipulating that knowledge. but. there’s also the association with luck in the light aspect. which. i cant in good conscience say that victor manipulates (or even has) good luck throughout the book ,,,,, even if a mage still takes on the negative effects of their aspects. there’s just. he’s not benefiting from knowledge or luck ultimately.

i think bard of doom is more fitting for him. 

while i wouldnt inherently call his destruction/fate passive… it was unintentional , which works pretty well with a bard. everything he does somehow fucks shit up worse. AND there is the added bonus w doom aspect being that he does sorta have a dream of doom with his dream about elizabeth and caroline right after brining The Creation to life ,,,,

frankenstein also is just. the story is a tragedy. things end poorly. victor , and everyone around him , is doomed because of his actions. so i would say with some confidence i would call victor a bard of doom

[butleroftoast]

[I am being totally normal and fine about postgame headcanons.]

---

Morris and Halsin don't part on bad terms. On the contrary, they both want to see each other again, desperately. But Halsin is busy rebuilding and helping refugees and Morris doesn't know where his head is any more, now that it's his again.

They do stay together for a while, learning real things about each other beyond shadow curses and tadpoles. Morris has developed various habits from living alone: muttering to himself, hoarding food, squirming in his sleep if he isn't allowed to share his bed with the sewer rats, which Halsin finds endearingly annoying while meditating beside him. Halsin's freedom with wildshaping and his rather energetic sex drive is a lot for Morris to get used to as someone accustomed to keeping his emotions under lock and key. Morris learns about Halsin's history, the pain he hides from in wildshape, and Halsin learns that Morris simply yearns to be able to fly in the wildshape of a bird. At the end of a long day Halsin will share his pipe, Morris will share his herbal teas, and they wait for sundown.

Their relationship has never been better as autumn draws to a close, and yet they both sense that this is the time to part. They don't plan it, or even want it (both think: it's what he wants). It's nearly unspoken. Morris makes a comment about hibernation, gentle teasing which is slowly becoming more natural to him, and adds matter-of-factly (quietly) that he'll see Halsin in the spring. Not long after the first snowfall, Morris slips away (to somewhere… much warmer).

(He hates this. He isn't an adventurer. The only thing which kept him going was the thought of returning home to the rats, but after what he's been through and what he's seen, the people he's met, that isn't enough any more. He never wanted a taste for adventure, but now he has one and it won't go away, a phantom itch in his brain and the less he dwells on that thought the better.)

Spring comes and goes with no sign of Morris. So do months, years, possibly decades before he's seen in Faerûn again. When he returns, it's been so long that he's not exactly forgotten Halsin, but put him in the "fond memory" corner of his mind, someone he loved once - that is, if he wasn't a cruel dream conjured up by the tadpole. Morris isn't sure any more. Besides, he doesn't like to think too deeply about it in case it awakens old hurt (love never becomes something he's familiar with), although he does pause every time he adds a spoon of honey to his tea. He definitely doesn't seek Halsin out immediately - he's got his Oak & Mistletoe plot to worry about, with Skullduggan and the Firefly Queen.

But one day he happens to be in Baldur's Gate, finishing up a quest, and realises that he has time. He has nowhere else to be. He could go to wherever Halsin was last. Not looking for Halsin, you understand, he just wants to see the results of Halsin's hard work. So he goes (secretly, denying it to himself, getting excited: will Halsin have changed? He's an elf and a druid, so he won't have aged much. Will he see the changes in Morris? Will he be surprised? Will he be waiting for him to appear on the horizon, like he promised?).

And Halsin isn't there.

He's not dead, not mysteriously disappeared, not avoiding him, just busy elsewhere through plain bad luck. Morris hates magically contacting people, it feels too invasive, so he doesn't bother. He looks around at everything Halsin built, waiting, waiting, and then moves on again himself.

At other times, Halsin goes into Baldur's Gate, searching for that balance he wanted between the city and nature. Not Morris himself, that goes against Halsin's beliefs (he tells himself), he is content to let chance reunite them only if or when that is what nature intends (so he tells himself again). But it wouldn't hurt to check up on the local rats, and if he were to ask them whether Morris has been around lately, well, that's just good manners.

Besides, Morris is never there anyway. He's always just left, or expected back soon, or travelling somewhere with the rats in tow.

It doesn't matter, each says to himself separately. Bears don't mate for life and nor do rats. They've led long and, if not happy, at least interesting lives apart. Halsin has taken many other lovers. Morris has been endlessly pestered by the Firefly Queen.

But they still think of each other, from time to time, when the days are getting shorter and the nights are drawing in.

Maybe one day spring will come.

---

No matter how long and cold the winter, it always ends eventually.

Much, much older, so old he isn't sure himself how many years have passed, Morris has been a sailor on a cursed voyage, a mind flayer's thrall, dragged through the Hells, played with and thrown away by Archfey, made friends, lost friends, possibly died and then been denied even that chance to get some rest because some god or other decided he wasn't finished with yet. He's starting to think that fate really hates him personally, and he's still a sourpuss, but on the other hand he has gained in courage and emotional maturity.

He comes home, tired and aching ("timeless body" doesn't mean he can't be bloody exhausted), promising himself as usual that he's getting too old for this and it will definitely be the last time, but the rats are excited by something. A strange person they've never met - this is many generations of rats after the Absolutist Cult - was hanging around earlier. Because the rats communicate through senses, not language, they show Morris the scent of grass, earth, sweat, and he thinks, oh, great, sounds like a druid, just my luck, they've probably come to revoke my Druid Licence after I've put in a lifetime of work on it. But then he realises there's another note to the scent, just a touch of honey.

Long forgotten memories come flooding back. Tadpoles, and goblin camps, and helping a bear in a cage purely because as much as he hated people, he would never let an animal suffer unnaturally. Bonfires, slightly too much wine, that first campsite by the river on a misty morning. Early summer. How young and stupid and petulant he was. All those hints, wilfully ignored, things unsaid spoken into shadows. Shutting him out while doing anything, everything, to keep him safe and bring him home. How young and stupid. A question on the docks by starlight, will he won't he, sneaking out of the camp, ratshape, suddenly alive again after so long alone, the shock of discovering each other in a precious moment stolen away from the nightmare.

How young he was.

He realises he's left home again, walking, searching, leaning on his stick for support. It reminds him of the old days in autumn, the excitement he barely lets himself feel: surely Halsin will have changed by now? He must be, what, four hundred years old, five hundred, more? It's hard to keep track of time these days. Does he still have the scars, the smile? What will he think when he sees Morris in his new favoured shape, a parrot? Does he still wildshape into a bear when he's excited? Will he be excited to see him?

(While nearby, somebody else thinks: does he still fidget in his sleep? Does he still mutter to himself without realising he's doing it? Has he learned not to be afraid of his own dreams? Does he ever dream of me?)

And as Morris - a druid whose devotion lies with the vermin and pests carving a niche in the human world - walks through the streets, a balance of the human city and wild nature, the first warm sun of spring lights up his old, tired face.

[soft-pink-wilfy]

I wanna tell my followers and moots to stop me from drawing Homestuck God Tiers for TMA characters but anyone familiar with me knows damn well that's not going to actually dissuade me 💚

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

skywalker.

[himbolover777]

whoah flowarrb godtiers. Liek hometuck no fucking way

Filterless again

[lanternlightss]

nameless bard …