#i need to read the legion books so bad

[ghouly-drool]

frank morrison doodle page that i still adore

[horuslupercal]

ranking the primarchs as boyfriends

Lion: honestly I can't see him dating cause he doesn't like women and Caliban homophobia but let's pretend. he is better than you. you both know this. makes no particular effort to pay attention to you. bad at social cues. will take care of you, kind of. will tell his astartes to guard you in a dangerous situation at least. uncommunicative. 2/10 loveless political marriage

Fulgrim: canonically emotionally tapped out. okay boyfriend in public, does not really interact much in private. RSD.Primarch. decent amount of gifts. might actually catch feelings for you and then pull away even more. 1/10 are you really dating

Perturabo: also RSD.Primarch. it's difficult to make him happy and very easy to upset him. you will end up on life support when he kills you in a fit of rage and then panics about it. if you tell him you like his artsy endeavours he WILL shower you in them so there's that. you cannot fix him. 3/10 more unstable ground than eggshells

Khan: knows what he's about (sexual). writes very pretty letters but this does not quite make up for him being gone all the time. more interested in his friends. emotionally mature primarch. pretty good at interacting with mortals like he respects them. not a guy who's good at (or likes) commitment/being "tied down". 5/10 you should just be fwbs

Leman: well groomed. likes to feed you good food. more interested in his friends than you. braggart. surprisingly good at remembering important things and dates. 6/10 a thoughtful frat boy

Dorn: primarch most likely to indulge in a "shut up" ring. has emotions about you and literally tortures himself about it. claims he's controlled or whatever but he is an emotional time bomb. won't engage in relationship conversations. knows he's better than you. 3/10 dime a dozen in a philosophy class

Konrad: well fuck if he doesn't love you. believes in thought crime and possesses some moral OCD qualities. will trail bits of guts home. might accidentally kill you during a vision. he really does love you. swinging between obsession and apathy very quickly. 2/10 you knew what you were getting into

Sanguinius: afraid of you? (or of hurting you). half the time he has no energy for anything he gets off work (campaign) and lays down on the couch and doesn't answer his texts. impulsive. kind of incapable of turning "off". sad. tries to be sweet. 4/10 is he really interested in you?

Ferrus: throws tantrums. knows he's better than you and his legion knows it too. jokes about your weakness with a little too much regularity for it to feel like a joke. won't fix this if you express being upset about it. 1/10 /fit/ (4chan) regular

Angron: will kill you in his sleep. will cry about it. doesn't really think of himself as a complete person anymore and makes it the problem of everyone around him. doesn't want to date you and ruin you. won't even tell you his newest scheme for glorious combat based suicide. 1/10 he's not in a good place

Roboute: arrogant. busy. "I was a TA for a logic class-". says he's willing to communicate but leaves halfway through because something happened and doesn't pick it back up. will bring you to beautiful cliffside locales and spin you like a movie. 5/10 you are a side project

Mortarion: unwashed. kissing him will poison you. doesn't come to bed on time. appreciates you from a distance but does not pay much attention to you. would be very upset if something happened to you. his legion definitely thinks you're stupid. 1/10 he doesn't you he needs SSRIs

Magnus: knows better than you. horror movie protag's boyfriend who says it's just a joke as he reads the ancient texts from the creepy book. flaunts you around, he's very proud of you. either constantly asking what you want or completely dead to the world distracted in some project. 5/10 he will get you killed

Horus: lovebombing: the primarch. knows what he's about (sexual). more than a little self absorbed. occasionally loses his temper and then is very good about explaining it away until you feel bad. you are spoiled to hell. 4/10 emotionally abusive boyfriend with a magic aura

Lorgar: you are his world. his light. his life. he knows best and you should just do what he says. you will no longer be human but something higher (socially) (literally). gets so invested he lets other things fall to the wayside and it's kind of disastrous. 5/10 at least you're god

Vulkan: trying his best to actually respect you. occasionally fails. means to spend time with you and then gets wrapped up in duties and projects. cuddlemaster. cute relationship gestures. 7/10 your best option

Corvus: won't communicate. ghosts away when things get awkward. really random, overly intense opinions and he will slay you on those hills. busy. hypocrite. 1/10 teenager

Alpharius Omegon: either they're both in on this so they can use you or only one of them is in on this and the other one is plotting your death because this wasn't the plan. 1/10 actively dangerous

[rosiesatombomb]

Craig Boone relationship hcs

Gn reader, sfw

A/N: this is in fact pretty angsty so be warned. I rlly like Boone and I have so many thoughts about him ughhhh

Requests still open!!

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Boone loves to listen to literally anything. He doesn’t have a lot to say but he thinks about a lot of different thing’s

He doesn’t communicate a lot of what he thinks. He wants to keep a lot of it to himself unless it concerns the courier

Boone truly hates himself, often depriving himself of basic needs because he feels like he doesn’t need it. He only really eats old pre-war canned food which tastes bad. But he eats it anyway, it’s more fuel rather than something he enjoys

It takes him a while to learn to at least like himself again. And it takes alot of work on the couriers part as well. It takes a lot of reassurance and patience

Not a big fan of sleep. He says it leaves him open, especially when camping out in the wastes. But he also does this in the casinos and motels

He also has frequent nightmares. Mainly about bitter springs but some about Carla. Both make his skin crawl and he feels like he can’t talk about either

I think the only way Boone could truly be at peace in a way is if the legion is wiped out and Caesar is dead. Preferably by his hand

If this does happen he doesn’t even come to terms with it until years later. He is still constantly on edge when traveling the Mojave because he’s used to the fear

It would take YEARS for Boone to be able to even think of getting into a relationship again. Of course he still wants a family but he can’t help but think of what he could have had with Carla

Boone feels as if he doesn’t deserve his partner. In his mind he can’t love normally and he wouldn’t want to put someone through that

He was insecure about himself in his relationship with Carla. She was everything he wasn’t, he didn’t think he was deserving of her, and after her passing he thinks he’s even less worthy

It’s why he’s surprised the courier had confessed to him. They know more about him than anyone. They know things he was to scared to tell Carla and yet they still love him

He does not understand it at all

He needs a patient partner. He can be incredibly closed off if something is eating at him. He would appreciate being checked up on but he’s not going to talk about it in the moment

Boone is incredibly perceptive and able to read his partner like a book. Great listener, he can tell always what’s bothering his partner

He usually pulls them aside, and lets them process it for a minute and ask if they want to talk about it

Not a big gift giver unless it has meaning. Like the beret he gave them on their first meeting

As I said before he’s incredibly perceptive, he takes notice of the little things his partner does like stocking up on his favorite foods or buying him more ammo. He really appreciates that, he does the same when he has the chance

Not a huge PDA person. He won’t ever initiate it in public but won’t complain if his partner does (he really likes it but he won’t tell them that)

Needs a partner who is willing to take control, he can take the lead but he’s anxious about romance in general. It will take him a while before finding his proper footing

[sorormaior]

Especially would go insane to get to see what went through Corax's head when Cary starts bleeding from the eyes and (presumably?) Collapsed. Putting these primarchs in Tupperware and violently shaking them.

Hehe Hoho

He had kept his face blank all throughout the blessings and the journey back to Dark Sister. His countenance could not possibly betray the turmoil inside him. 

The Captain had gone to the Night Lords, gone to the ship to find their dead and had returned as if nothing was amiss. They had lied, repeatedly, to his face. He stepped off of the Shadowhawk and saw that they had opened a vox with him. 

“Do you need me for anything or can I go lie face down somewhere?” Their tone was light, if tired. 

“I’d like to debrief you on the Echo first,” he said, unable to keep the ice from his voice. “Would you mind disarming yourself and then taking yourself very calmly to my office?” 

Corvus didn’t even look at them when he spoke. The Captain didn’t reply, walked past him in a stilted march. 

He in turn also went to his arming chambers, and had his own armour removed. The process gave Corvus a little more time to think. Personal hurt shouldn’t have any bearing on what actions he should take. The facts were thus: Cary Kulikov had been contacted by members of their own (traitorous) Legion, they had not reported this and had in fact allowed themselves to be teleported to the Night Lords’ vessel. They had also abandoned a mission in order to do this. By all counts it was desertion, if not outright betrayal. 

But they had not gone with the Night Lords, a small portion of him argued, they didn’t leave you. The thought pulled something sharp inside his chest. The mission. They didn’t leave the mission. They came back because they knew it was their duty. They had left because they wanted to see their sons. 

When he entered his office they were already there, in a seat in front of the desk he was supposed to be using to sign reports and orders. The Captain was looking out of the window, at the void, at Hagiogra. He couldn’t read their reflection’s expression, and they seemed not to notice he had entered until he sat at his desk. 

When Cary did look at him they did so with a drawn, exhausted face. It was the face of someone who had been running for a long time.

“Are you going to kill me?” They asked. 

“No,” he replied. 

He didn’t know how he felt about that assumption. It was perhaps logical of them to assume that their desertion would lead to an execution, as the Primarch he would have been expected to deliver it. It was logical. It wasn’t personal. It was not about how Cary viewed him. 

They looked out of the window again, black eyes reflecting pinprick lights of distant stars. 

“How did you follow me?” They asked. 

“I intended to make my presence known to you at the chapel by the aqueduct and followed you. As Primarchs, we have certain privileges when it comes to unnoticeable vox channels.”

“You were listening in,” Cary said. 

“Yes,” he said.

It was hard to tell if the notion unsettled them or not. But soon they started talking. 

“I wanted to see them. I wanted to know who was dead, who I had to mourn. Do you wonder? What happened to those you left when you went into the warp? Have you tried to find out yet? Guilliman has, I’ve seen some of his books, some of the records. He has sons he has no idea what happened to, and no way of knowing. Sorry. I don’t mean to be unkind,” they paused and swallowed, though their voice continued at the same strength. “You never went to Nostramo. You were too young. You never saw it. Never lived it. Don’t get me wrong, prison moon sounds bad. Sounds like a real shitter of a situation and you have my sympathy. But people loved you, Corax. People fed you. Clothed you. Taught you. Curze ate rats and dogs in the street, ate his kills because he was programmed too strongly to even think of stealing food.”

They turned to face him, expression hardened. 

“When we got to Terra I did a lot of research on feral children. Most kids- human kids, baseline kids, that grow up without anyone to care for them, without socialisation- they usually never learn to speak or have any interest in humanity. They have to be taken care of for their whole lives. Primarchs are different, hardier, stronger, apparently . Curze learned the lessons Nostramo taught him armed with what little knowledge your father shoved in his head. He understood justice, he understood the concepts of things that were right and wrong, but he ended up in the wrong place.

“By the time I got to him the damage was done. Fate’s die was cast. I don’t even think he knew how to use a spoon the first time I fed him. Is it any wonder that he resented the sons foisted upon him? He was barely a man and he needed help. Instead we were sent to do the bloody work no one else could do. The bloody work we were admonished for, but I bet I could say his hands were drenched in less blood than yours.”

The statement drew his ire, if only briefly. It was not the number of bodies produced that should have mattered, it was the way they were produced. 

“And you don’t even know the worst part. No one knows, aside from me- Damn his eyes! You don’t even know that when he left Nostramo, when the greedy, silver-sucking bastards realised they had nothing to fear anymore- they poured their criminals, their murderers, their rapists into our ranks. That was the last thing I did as a Night Lord, true and proper. As a Captain of the Kyroptera I went to Nostramo and I saw what they were doing to us. I knew we needed help. I knew anything done internally would end up as butchery. I was going to ask for help. I was going to ask you for help.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but Cary continued. Their expression had turned from solemn acceptance to sharp anger, deep anger. 

“They fed a sick dog bad meat and were surprised when it turned rabid, when it turned upon their clutching hands. Sin upon sin, body upon body. Skraivok’s personal army inside the Legion- a cancer upon all of us. I know what happened to him, Corax. I know that he turned to Fulgrim in fear, seeking some kind of comfort from that which haunted him, and that compassionate Rogal Dorn confronted him. As if it was his fault, what he saw. As if he had any level of control over his visions. You called him a monster, but you- his brothers, you’re the ones who left him in the dark. Who left us to die.”

The resentment was clear, it punctuated every word. Corvus would have liked to have responded calmly, evenly. But Cary’s statements felt more like an attack than an admission of guilt. 

“You think his actions are excusable because he was infirm?” Corvus asked, voice strained. 

“None of our actions are excusable,” Cary retorted. “The Imperium stands on a trillion graves, and for what? For this? For vile zealotry? For the same prejudices we’ve been carrying for ten thousand years?”

They were correct, Throne damn them for it but they were right. The Imperium was just as sick as when he had left it, Roboute was trying, he was trying- even Cary was trying! Yet none of their efforts were enough. Nothing was enough. 

“I am beginning to question your loyalty, Kulikov.” 

“I was loyal, truly loyal, in the beginning. Loyal to your father’s dream, which lies decaying all around us. I am loyal to what your brother sees, his vision of what the Imperium could become. I am loyal to those who call on me as a brother. I am not loyal to terror. I am not loyal to bloody violence. I have no loyalty for chaos, which has warped so many of those whom I love and have loved. I have only disgust for those of my Legion who are currently squabbling over the possessions of a man long dead. I want you to tell me something honestly, Corvus,” they leaned forward as they spoke, desperately searching his face for something. 

The use of his first name took him off guard, it took him a fraction of a second to recover and he nodded. 

“If your sons had been declared Excommunicate Traitoris, could you truly turn your back on them? All of them? If they had called for you, like scared children in the dark?”

His anger rose steadily as he absorbed their words, even if in the back of his mind- Cary didn’t know. His eyes dropped to the desk in front of him and his hands shook. Cary was ignorant of the Raptors.They did not know what they were saying, what it meant to him. 

But he remembered his sons in pain. He remembered them as they lay twisted and broken and mutated and howling. Screaming. 

He looked up at them. Cary was almost bent double, bowed head and clasped hands like a dedicant. 

“I always knew you’d see through me, eventually,” Cary said. “That you’d see what I really was. I am a Night Lord. I will always be a Night Lord. My sins are indelible. Hála az ezüstnek… it’s you, in the end.” 

And then, to his horror, they started to pray.

“Hála az… égnek és az… ezüst ereknek,” they whispered between short, gasping breaths. 

He stood abruptly, cold shame crawling up his spine. He had lost control, the warp-thing that he truly was rising to the surface once more. 

Corvus came around the desk, intending to pull the Captain upright but he caught something- the sound of blood drops hitting the floor, and the iron smell of it. The Captain had pulled their hands away from their face, the fingertips of their gloves coming away dark red. 

He retrieved the medi-kit from the wall, opening it to find the saline solution and pushed Cary’s forehead upwards. Blood seeped from their eyes like tears and pores like sweat. Corvus tipped the bottle over their eyes and face, wiping away the worst of it with his thumbs.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to- I didn’t want to…” 

Cary reached up and patted his forearm with the weariness of someone who had heard it before.

“It’s okay,” they said. “You can’t help it, I know.” 

He clenched his jaw, but turned his face away from them so they wouldn’t see. Corvus could help it. He was a Primarch in charge of his own faculties and he should have been able to control his emotions. 

Corvus looked down, their robe was soaked with saline and blood. He swiftly removed his own.

“You robe is- you can have mine,” he said, awkwardly shoving the garment at them.

Cary vanished in the fabric and struggled with their own robe, he almost reached out to help them. Almost. But that would mean touching them, and Corvus knew he could not do that. 

They retrieved something from the pocket of their sodden robe, a pouch. Ah, yes. The other matter. 

“I’d like to see the datachip,” he said, as carefully as possible. 

They hesitated briefly, expression untrusting. He supposed he deserved that. But they tipped two small items from the pouch into their palm and handed over the datachip. Corvus looked at the other item, a jagged blackened thing, as large as the tip of a baseline finger. 

“Is that a tooth?” He asked, only able to identify it through the shape of the root. 

“Yes,” Cary said. 

He paused.

“Who’s tooth is that?”

Cary looked at him as if he was being purposefully dense. 

“I think you know.” 

He was unable to keep his expression neutral and Cary clicked their tongue at him. 

“In your father’s name, I can’t believe I’m being judged for this. Konrad walked around with a whole damn mortuary stapled to his armour and I’m getting mean-mugged by Corvus Corax for stealing a tooth,” Cary lamented, exaggerating their dismay. 

Their voice caught on the name, he had noticed that. They avoided using that name, the name their father had given the Night Haunter. A discomfort that made him curious. 

Cary dragged on his robes, which swallowed them. He ignored the small, almost smug feeling that curled in his chest that seeing Cary in his robes. Now was not the time for personal matters. There would likely never be a time for personal matters. 

He took the datachip to his desk, finding a dataslate in one of the drawers. Corvus sat in his desk chair and plugged in the chip, watching as strings of Nostraman runes filled the screen. He could have sat there and waited until his mind simply comprehended the language, as it had done to so many spoken languages before. Instead, Corvus spoke.

“I’ve come across an issue,” he said, looking at Cary. 

The Captain frowned at him, confused. 

“I never learned to read Nostraman,” he admitted. 

“Are you shitting me,” Cary replied, fixing him with a flat, disappointed look Corvus suspected they reserved for unruly neophytes. 

“It will take me a few minutes to properly work out and translate,” he admitted, Cary clicked their tongue again derisively. “However I happen to be sitting in front of a literal Nostraman.”

He turned the dataslate towards them, and Cary pulled their chair forward, eyes already scanning the screen. 

“And now you ask me to sell out my own?” They asked, hollowly. 

The question itself was painful, as was the guilt. They believed he was asking them to tell him so that he could use it against the ones who had found them at great personal risk- Cary’s sons. Their tone was that of one ordered to betray their own. 

“I’m asking you to trust me that I won’t,” Corax said, swallowing his duty. “I’m trusting you to tell me what it says.” 

Cary glanced up at him, the action only noticeable for the movement of the muscles around their eyes. Their shoulders lost some of the tension they had been holding. 

“They’re personal vox codes, comms codes for a couple of ships. The Echo’s are on there, along with a couple others. It’s all communication related, basically. I think that there might be the Atramentar’s teleportation frequency. That’s an emergency beacon signal,” they said, pointing to the various long strings of Nostraman runes. 

“They want you to be in touch with them,” he thought, aloud. 

“I don’t think they’re expecting me to spy for them, if that’s what you’re thinking,” they said. 

He hadn’t, another pang of guilt. Cary expected him to have lost all faith in them. 

“I think they just… Want me to call them if I need them,” Cary said, voice tinged with sad affection. 

“They don’t trust the company you’re in now?” He asked, in mock offence. 

Cary laughed a little. It was dry and tired, but genuine at least. 

“I won’t keep you much longer, there’s only one more thing I wanted to ask about,” he continued. 

Cary looked at him, eyebrows raised and expression open. The lone Atramentar, the one Cary had named. 

“Grisha,” he said. 

Cary crumpled forward and for a split second he panicked, a jolt of adrenaline almost making him rise. They leaned on the desk heavily, carded a hand through their short hair. 

“My brother,” they said. “My little brother. I- I didn’t know he had been taken. I thought he died, he was always so sick. I have to believe they didn’t know- Curze and Sevatar. Didn’t know he was taken.” 

Cary’s sorrows went far beyond their Primarch and their Night Lords- they had human ties. There was a whole life he wasn’t privy to, no matter that he had listened to their account. Once again he was confronted with the fact that he didn’t really know Cary as well as he thought he did. 

“Cary, I am so sorry,” he said, gently. 

He meant to stand, to offer them comfort. But they looked up and looked decades older. 

“Can I go?” They asked, quietly. “Today has been a trial.” 

He nodded.

“Yes, Theodanius mentioned something about the sorcerer,” he started, but Cary shook their head, already starting to stand.

“I’m haunted by enough ghosts as it is, and I’d rather not wake them,” the upward tilt at the corners of their mouth suggested that this was supposed to be a dry observation, but their tone made it more of a solemn statement. 

He wondered what he could say, what comfort could he possibly offer them? Corvus had no idea. He had also lost sons, he had also lost brothers, but Cary looked exhausted. Drained. Their eyes had dropped to the floor again, unable to meet his. 

“Go rest,” he said. 

Cary nodded and left without another word or look. Once they had left, he rubbed his face with both hands. Cary’s sons had died, and they had not been permitted to mourn them. That was why they had gone, to find out which child lived and which child had died and which child had become something monstrous. 

They had assumed he would kill them, and he admonished himself for even thinking they would suspect otherwise. Of course Cary thought he would kill them. He was a Primarch and they were an Astartes who had abandoned a mission to treat with traitors. Marines had been executed for less. They had accepted their death so calmly, so easily. It was a far cry from the Captain who had fought so hard their whole damn life to survive. 

Thank the silver it’s you, in the end. A Nostraman oath. In their delirium they had returned to comforting beliefs, that was how far their acceptance stretched. They believed they were going to die in that room, and had prayed for themselves. 

He looked down at the dataslate again, the Nostraman already becoming clear to him. Cary had spoken the truth, communication codes, squad tags. He had not yet alerted his men to the Echo of Damnation, though he knew where it was hiding. 

Corvus remembered them kneeling, the oversized skull in their hands and how they had wept. Cary’s sons had died, and so had their Primarch. They had not been able to mourn either of them. 

He would not give them more names to mourn.

[rei-ismyname]

Who do you think has been the best at writing Kurt and what is your favorite stage of the character? Personally, Kurt from Excalibur is my big favorite.

Hey! I don't think I've actually talked about Kurt much, aside from complaining about his NPC status and bizarre priest coding (that was quickly reversed) in From The Ashes

It's hard to argue with Excalibur as a defining run for Kurt's character and his themes. He got to buckle his swash and I really enjoy the relationships built during Excalibur (except Brian. Dude sucks IMO) - even if those relationships and shared experiences have been backgrounded of late. I wasn't aware of different authors when I first read it but looking back Alan Davis if I have to pick.

My favourite stage of the character though is Krakoan Age Kurt. I enjoyed him under Hickman's pen (even if the third law was a mistake.) Si Spurrier made some pretty massive missteps in Way of X but I'm glad that his reaction to Krakoa generally and The Crucible specifically was explored. There's a lot of ways to approach 'I need to start a mutant religion' and zooming in on his personal crisis of faith and allying him with Legion really worked for me.

Focusing on people and examining the laws with the background threat of Onslaught was clever, and he reached the only conclusions that makes sense. I do wish it was longer and a deeper dive into the laws, but it'd break the premise a little if The Onslaught Revelation ended and Kurt said out loud that the Krakoan government is corrupt and we need to start from scratch. Everyone nearly died permanently because Xavier has too much power with no means of accountability.

I'd have hated it if he really did start a religion; The Spark was a secular philosophy that addressed his personal crisis and resonated with a certain kind of person. I've seen people call it a religion and it makes me wonder if they read the book. The foray into justice reform in Legion of X is something I loved on a conceptual level - yes he was using his QC position for legitimacy but at its core the Altar and Legionaries was about the little people, the younger folks, those working for redemption. Kurt's pointed and specific refusal to co-operate with Charles Xavier on his authoritarian bs was a great character beat, as was defending Juggernaut's agency and the chance to be better. I do wish the original sin of Sabertooth in the hole was touched on, but Victor LaValle nailed it elsewhere so I can't complain.

Combined with the Quiet Council dissolution in Immortal X-Men I think we'd have seen an upswell of younger, politically engaged mutants eager to reform their home. I digress.

I loved Kurt's time as Spider-Man (or spinnenmann lol) as a kind of back to basics during the worst time for mutants. It's relatable that he'd be overwhelmed by trauma and grief and just want to be 'a whole Kurt Wagner' for a while. Fight some bad guys, have a romance, eat pizza with Spider-Man. I definitely liked the retcons in X-Men Blue: Origins, the follow up in X-Men Forever, but most of all that he was allowed to be angry about it in Uncanny #700. Trust is earned and neither of his bio parents have done that.

As I mentioned, I'm unimpressed with how he's been used in From The Ashes. He's wasted as a background character and I think putting him on the Uncanny team was a mistake. If it was my decision I'd have him as a peacemaker, flitting from team to team and book to book. I especially feel like he'd visit Katschen himself and not be a party to Iceman spying on her. Kurt and Kitty have a much closer relationship. Tom Brevoort has been outspoken about the X-Men killing people in Fall of X - Kurt and Kitty are the perfect lens to explore that through.

I get that he was already taken by Uncanny, but focusing on Logan and Rogue (where their familial relationship 'upgrade' is recent and barely established) to the detriment of other longstanding relationships feels like a waste to me.

It seems I had more thoughts on Kurt than I thought. Thanks for the ask!

[marithlizard]

More thoughts about "Mastermind", etc: 1) When you look at the "most viewed" part of a Youtube video it's almost always a sexy moment. But this time I think we all know _exactly_ what the most viewed moment is. Bryce and Brandon were born for these roles and Sam Haft is a fucking genius.

2) (looks up this Patrick Page guy) No wonder everyone swooned over Hadestown! The vocal talent in these shows is ridiculous.

3) Oh. As @hina-has-no-life pointed out, Blitz isn't being hailed as a hero because he survived the trial. It's because Satan livestreamed the whole thing, being too lazy and contemptuous to even think about editing, and all of Hell has now seen Blitz _successfully_ argue with Satan himself to defend his employees, to speak out for all imp-kind who are just "doing their jobs", and to use his final words to shout defiance at the unfair system. That's gotta be unheard of. It probably won't last, but for the moment, kid Blitzo has achieved his dream. He is the most famous imp ever.

4) We've seen Stolas gleefully tackle a huge pile of paperwork in "Oops". And in "Ghostfuckers", we saw Moxxie despairing over an even bigger pile. Was this all setup for Stolas's new career at IMP? 5) Prediction: It won't be until bedtime the next night that Stolas realizes Blitz doesn't have a bedroom. And he's just too tall for that sofa. He needs his own place, but how could he possibly afford one?

6) Prediction: Loona and Millie will each find a quiet moment to deliver a shovel talk to Stolas. Moxxie will be too busy showing Stolas the ropes and being so relieved to have someone competent to shove the accounting off on. But when Stolas asks in bewilderment how the finances got so bad, Moxxie will point at a downward-trending graph and say "See that? That's when you two broke up." 7) Hope for the future: someday Moxxie, Stolas and Vassago will go see musicals together while Blitz and Millie hang out and shoot pool (and the occasional bystander). Everyone will be happy with this arrangement. 8) Barbie saw that broadcast. So did Cash. So did Paimon. All of them will show up in S3. 9) Wait, Stolas began studying the grimoire to do his job as a young kid. We don't actually know what his job _is_, other than "finding prophecies", but Andrealphus won't have clue one about how to do it. Will he make Via do it for him? Will Paimon show up to tell him he's an incompetent asshat and take it away? Or will Stolas regain his position before it matters? 10) I still want to know about the legions! Is there literally an army division somewhere twiddling its thumbs waiting for a war? Does Stolas mentor officers and run war games? Or is this, like, a metaphorical sort of legions? Eldritch beings summoned from the void? It would be hilarious if Andrealphus visited "his" new legions and it's just three bored shark demons and an imp sitting around reading comic books. 11) I'm throwing my hat in the ring and betting that Stolas and Blitz will be a couple by Sinsmas morning. Of course it would be "sensible" for them to take time to work on their own stuff, but neither of them strikes me as that kind of person. Plus I'm sure Stolas has thought about how brief imp lifespans are compared to his own, and what a dangerous career Blitz has even by demon standards. What use is being sensible if it means giving up the limited time you have with the person you love? Also, I really thought Loona's antagonistic relationship with Moxxie and general feeling of inferiority was being built up as a significant part of her character arc, that she and M&M would have to work things out and come to a position of mutual respect. But "Ghostfuckers" showed them making progress in that direction, without anything needing to be said. That's not a criticism - but it did remind me that a show's creators aren't always going to make the same choices we would, or give things the same weight we would. If Stolitz mostly reaches their happy ending next episode, that doesn't make the story weak or problematic or whatever. It just means Viv and Brandon think they have reached a good place with each other, and it's time for the show to focus on other things for S3.

[acroagoraphobe]

Headcannons for living with Joshua Graham mordern AU?

Oooo.. I already have agood few so ima put em all together!

And a good few new ones too!

Ungodly amount of decorative pillows in his house, all over the couches, on the beds.

Its literally the worst, All the beds have uncomfy decorative comforters.

He doesn't really get out of the house except for church, so he just sits in his room reading most of the time.

Probably goes to book club on the weekends with the church ladies though.

Lots and lots of potted plants. So many potted plants. inside and outside the house.

Does not cook. Since even in a modern AU.. bad history with fires (His last house got burnt down at the last legion cookout.) So you have to cook for him.

He also doesn't have a microwave because he doesn't trust them.

Divorced Dad. Need I say more?

Sits on the porch reading when not at book club, church, or in his room. Sometimes he stares menacingly at passerby.

Pet Gecko he keeps in his room in a gecko tank? enclosure? whatever the hell you call the lizard storage.

You will probably hear him complain passive agressively that the dishes aren't done, yet he also doesn't do them.

Laundry though, that shit is done, dried, ironed, and folded perfectly and put up. As much as he complains about doing laundry he sure likes doing it.

there's so many crosses hung up in his house. (Reminds me of that one thing where a guy's grandma hung up a foam Minecraft sword because she thought it was a cross.)

The king of horrendous, Live laugh love things. Utensil holder, front door sign. DOORMAT.

Will constantly complain about people in the park Larping if he ever does go outside and be grumpy in the park (He used to be a larper, he's just a bitchy old man)

Can't work a computer to save his life. Somehow gets it to blue screen by opening a single tab in google. Do not let him near your computer.

He has a flip phone. No you cannot argue this. And he leaves it in the worst places and he has like the worst ringtone option possible. It's so annoying. Dear god is it annoying.

This man does not own a single pair of non-cargo shorts, or sweatpants. it's either formal or 80's dad. Yes he wears Newbalances.

The wallpaper in his house is like all like floral print and its super ugly but Joshua genuinely really likes it so you don't wanna point it out that it's ugly as fuck. But he knows deep down that its absolutely hideous snd refuses to acknowledge it like how he refuses to acknowledge his mistakes and when he's wrong in an argument and then just silently sits there and says nothing angrily.

The most inconvenient locks are broken. bathroom lock? broken when he bought the house. Bedroom lock? Broke because he slammed the door too hard and then it didn't latch and he slammed it again over snd over and he got more pissed at the door so he punched it really hard.

He gets realllyyyy pissy sometimes. Like i mean hella pissy. Like for no reason either. best to leave him to his own devices.

Just does random lore drops like "I used to be on a bowling team. and once almost killed a man with a bowling ball." then walks off back to his room.

[moodymisty]

So recently I've read the first trilogy of the Heresy for the second time, and I can't get Horus from those particular books out of my head.

He's tired. Annoyed. Worn down. He tries his best to save his faces and as time goes further he fails more and more often.

A Primarch could take a lot. He's a mighty being that is unable to get a burnout just from some paperwork. But he's got the whole paperwork of the Crusade, several millions of ships, billions of people to organize and command. In addition to his and his brothers' legions matters.

Even his Mournival starts to annoy him. In private, he is slowly losing his charm and fatherly demeanour, becoming grumpy and brooding. He only allows Erebus to stay close to him and... to you.

One late night he just walks into your shared rooms and stays silently in the doorway, his arms crossed in his chest. In the dim light coming from the corridor you could've seen the circles under his eyes and the weariness shown on his face. If you weren't asleep.

He could stay like this for a long time, even when the work is yet to be done and with his sons and Erebus waiting for him. Those quiet moments, of which you don't know, keep him at least somewhat sane.

At times like this, Horus feels like he can finally let himself go. He can slide to the floor, leaning against the wall as he just looks at your sleeping form, unwilling to crawl to the bed you two used to share every night so to not disturb your sleep. He doesn't have to be the Warmaster at those moments, he is not even a Primarch — as much as he loves and shows off his titles the amount of work cast onto him because of it makes him wish he was a baseline. He's just Horus, a man in love who allowed himself to have a moment of peace next to his unaware beloved before he comes back to his duty.

One day you wake up when he's like this, sitting next to the bed, only his head rested on the sheets. Maybe it was a bad dream or a sound he involuntarily made, it doesn't matter. You crawl to him quickly, still half-asleep, your voice raspy and your eyes half-lidded, yet you're still worried, almost scared of his uncharacteristic behavior.

"I'm alright, my love," he whispers, as he gently holds your hand in his large one.

But you do not believe him. You're hissing half-joking scolding as you drag him to the bed to you, berating him for his overly responsible behavior and enlightening him that he'll end up passing out in the middle of a battlefield if he doesn't get to know about some work-ethics. It's all jokes, and even the dragging is — if he didn't want to, he wouldn't move — until instead of a laugh, a small sob escapes his lips.

There's a moment when you have to be quick. You have to cup his face, make his teary eyes look at you. You can't let him leave, excusing himself with some dumb reason of being just "too tired".

After that, you both can finally slow down, and the loss of pressure on Horus shoulders, even if it is for just a moment, makes him become a mess.

He complies silently when you gently pull him closer so his head rests on your chest. You feel the violent shudders coming through his mighty frame. You feel your nightdress become wet from the tears, that pour out of his eyes with no sound and no resistance from his side.

Horus breaks — crackles — quietly. Like the sand of a sand castle, he breaks down accompanied by a soft lull of the shore.

You comfort him, and you can't tell how much time you've spent on it. But eventually your gentle touches and soothing words make him close his eyes and fall asleep.

You know he needs this night much more than you do.

awww Horus;;; this so so sad :'(

[mehmetminded]

Initial rambling thoughts on The Pilot:

(Spoilers for The Last Horizon Book 4)

Loved the ending! I like that Will feels confident enough in his series to end on a pretty bleak note for a mid series book. I love me some pain and tragedy even if I’m pretty sure they aren’t perma-killing Omega. The payoff of the repetition of Varic being the “greatest MORTAL spellcaster” was very fun. World spirits being the villains was a great twist that I admit I didn’t see coming!

I really enjoyed how Will is able to portray an information war without getting too bogged down in it. The plot seemed like it kept moving at a decent clip from start to end, while maintaining a sense of intrigue!

This book also did something I think was sorely needed. Reinforced the scope of the setting. The last book really left me feeling like the Fathom galaxy wasn’t all that large. Only a few planets of note. Wizards are slinging spells at interstellar distances. This book made me feel like the galaxy was a big enough place that a mysterious shadow government really could go undetected for centuries.

Not the biggest fan of Aila. Not so much for what she is, but for what she isn’t. I really wanted to see Omega get fleshed out here. And while we got some of that it felt like half of that got offloaded onto his daughter at the expense of us not learning more about her other than she’s “Less insane Omega”. She’s 100% justified in her campaign of spite and bitterness against her father, I just wish I heard more from her about it!

I also don’t know how I feel about recycling the Iron Legion as a threat this early in the series. I’m assuming we’re building up to a climactic final showdown of some kind with all the bad guys of the series facing down our hero’s, but this still feels too early to me.

I did quite enjoy the moments of Omega development that we got. I can be a grown up and admit that Raion hugging him made me cry, though again, I wish we had gotten a bit more from him. I feel like we had to spend so much time in this book getting his backstory that we didn’t get as much of a chance to really dig into his character. And now he’s dead, at least for now. Sad.

I have a few ideas for how this “encroaching extradimensional threat” is going to resolve. My running theory is that instead of being the Vroshir battle from Cradle book 10, this is an unrelated incident (and an opening for a Cradle cameo). Instead, I posit that the Judge battle is what ended Fathom’s golden age and the devastation resulted somehow in the zenith devices being scattered.

If I had to level one critique at this book, I would say it bit off a little more than it could chew. This series has a lot of threads to juggle and a lot of characters people want to see get the spotlight. While Will’s forward planning skills are nothing to sniff at, I think maybe doing a bit of the Omega leg work in the last few books could have helped give this one a bit more room to breathe. As it stands though I quite enjoyed it! I’ll probably go through it another time or two to firm up my thoughts on it, but yeah! 8/10 a very fun read!

[captain-lannery-storm]

The Cycle Continues

After the execution of former Marshal Camilo Guerra by Captain Lannery Storm of the Brazen Coalition, Captain Marciano Guerra returned home.

It was a hard call for him to make. He had watched the duel and watched his father – his adultering, lying, backstabbing father – die by the hands of the Coalition commander who was actually Marciano’s bastard half-sister. Marciano didn’t want to return to his parents’ home, by the Saint he didn’t want to, but he had to find out what the rest of his family knew about what his father had done.

He hesitated at the door of their family manor. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and finally knocked thrice on the aged wood.

One of the servants answered. She was a nervous-looking young woman around the age of twenty-five who, if Marciano remembered right, handled a lot of the cleaning. Objectively, she was pretty, with long black hair that she kept pulled back into a braid and a round, soft face with gentle brown eyes. And after what Marciano had read from Camilo’s own book of sins, he had to wonder his father purposefully picked young and pretty servants. It was probably a correct guess.

The mere thought made his stomach churn in revulsion. Still, he forced a smile to his face, though he knew it didn’t reach his eyes. “Dulce. Is my mother here?”

“She is, sir,” the young woman said, her voice shaking. As Marciano stepped inside, he noticed that her entire body was trembling just like her voice.

“One of the servants cleaning your father’s room found this,” Guitirre said, handing the journal to Marciano after Camilo’s arrest. Marciano had taken it just to see the depths of his father’s depravity. What he read disgusted him more than merely knowing that Camilo cheated on his mother. He wondered how he could even be related to someone so twisted and sinful.

Maybe Dulce had been the one to find the evidence of Camilo’s crimes. Marciano didn’t ask. He offered a polite nod to Dulce before he continued walking through the manor. He knew where his mother would likely be.

The manor was well-sized, given its location and the relative newness of its construction. The salty air of the sea had worked its way into every part of the house over the years. Marciano had been a captain for many years already by the time it was being built, but after his wife Herminia was killed during a recent engagement against Aclazotz’s faithful, he had brought his children here to stay with his mother while he was at sea.

He followed the quiet sniffling sounds to his mother’s study, up on the top floor. He knocked thrice on the door. “Mother? It’s Marci, can I come in?” he called.

The screech of a chair being pushed back and footsteps coming to the door. It was flung open, and Marciano had just enough time to catch his mother in a hug before she started sobbing into his shoulder. Juanita Guerra was a small woman who felt even more frail in Marciano’s arms than usual as she broke down into tears. Her long brown hair was loose and messy, as though she had skipped brushing it for several days now. Marciano didn’t blame her – if not for the duties of being in the Legion, he would have been spiraling just as bad from this reveal too. But he knew that he needed to be the steady rock for the rest of his family.

Marciano pressed a kiss to the top of his mother’s head, holding her in his arms and quietly murmuring reassurances. “I’m here, Mom. I’m here.”

“I can’t believe that I married him,” Juanita sobbed. “All this time...”

“You didn’t know.” Marciano doubted that Guitirre had let the full contents of Camilo’s journal become known. There was a good chance that Marciano, Guitirre, and Storm were the only ones who now knew the full truth. “None of us knew.”

“I haven’t told Veronica and Vicente,” Juanita choked out between sobs. “I don’t know how.”

Marciano’s twins. They were still too young to train as squires, around seven years old. Marciano had been trying to shield them from the horrors of everything, between the Phyrexian invasion and the First Night and Aclazotz’s attacks. That was why he left them with Juanita when he and Camilo returned to the lines after Herminia’s death.

“I’ll tell them, Mom,” he whispered, gently rocking her as she clung to him. “I’ll take care of it. But let’s take care of you first, okay? I’ll go get you a change of clothes and draw a bath.”

“I can’t go back in there,” Juanita whispered, still clinging to her only son. “I can’t go back in that room, knowing everything...”

“You won’t have to,” he soothed, gently rubbing her back. “I’ll be back shortly, okay?” Juanita sniffled and rubbed her face with the sleeve of her dress once she let him go. Marciano didn’t stay longer to keep soothing her, instead heading to his parents’ master bedroom to retrieve clean clothing for her.

It was large and open, like every bedroom in the manor. The furniture was well-made and sturdy. Based on the dust, neither Juanita nor the servants had stepped back inside since she got the news about Camilo’s infidelity, sins, and execution by Coalition blade.

Marciano stepped towards the wardrobe to retrieve a new dress for his mother, but the floorboard under his advancing foot shifted awkwardly. He paused, then tested it with a little more of his weight. It felt like something was crammed under it. He stepped back and crouched down to see what was wrong. The floorboard was raised just slightly higher than the rest.

He glanced behind him out the open door, then silenty shut it and used the metal claws of his armor to peel the board back. Hidden crammed beneath it were...papers? His brow furrowed in confusion. He fished a few out and unwrinkled them. They were letters, seemingly sent to his father by one of his older sisters, Atenea. She was stationed in the south, if Marciano remembered right. The first one he read was quite brief.

Father, I understand your concerns, but I assure you that I have done my due diligence. No one will know. Good luck with Marci. Hopefully he is as loyal to you as you say he is. It would be a shame if he weren’t. Your favorite, Atenea

“Due diligence?” Marciano repeated, his voice barely audible even to his own ears. He unwrinkled and read the next one, dated earlier.

Father, It’s getting quite boring. Evereth isn’t as promising as we had hoped with aiding us. Figuring out what to do about her will be far more difficult than the rest. Your favorite, Atenea

Evereth wasn’t as promising? Evereth was the eldest of them all, and she had taken the “throne” of Luneau after their uncle’s death. She had given up the family name and her claim on inheritance. She also never married and hadn’t had children, which was especially strange for the eldest scion of a Legion house, but no one gave her trouble about it because, admittedly, many of the Legion were utterly terrified of her. And aiding Camilo and Atenea with what, exactly?

Marciano unfolded another letter, dated much earlier, and kept reading.

Father, Per your recommendation, I’m going to Luneau to see if our dear Evereth will be more inclined to help us than Elodia was. Such a shame what happened to her, isn’t it? Nice touches, by the way. Easier to explain away than Herminia’s was. I’ll send another courier when I get news, go ahead and eat this one. He’s catching on. Your favorite, Atenea

Marciano’s heart beat a single time. Herminia had been killed in an ambush from Aclazotz’s forces shortly after the First Night. Elodia had been killed during a fight with the Storm Fleet when friendly fire hit the ship she was on and she couldn’t dodge the cannonball in time. If these letters from Atenea were to be believed, then...

Then his older sister and his father had conspired to murder his wife and his younger sister. And were planning to do the same to his older sister and, potentially, him as well if he wasn’t “loyal” to his father.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

But still, he dug out more of the letters and kept reading, desperately searching for an explanation for this madness.

And, after several more letters that also revealed that Atenea’s husband Fulgentius Castro had also been killed in this conspiracy, he found it.

Father, You know that I will follow you to the ends of the world and beyond. If we are to head into the Age of Everflowing Blood, I will continue to follow you on this road. You are right that the Church is weak. The craving and its satiation is our power, not the restraints they put upon us. To the rightful god. To our true leader. To the one who first made this gift. To Aclazotz. I already know what we must do first. Your ever-loyal daughter, Atenea

Heresy. Kinslaying. Conspiracy. Murder. Corruption. So many words for the sins he was seeing spiraled in Marciano’s mind. He gathered the letters and stuffed them into his pack, then replaced the floorboard and sat there for a moment as he tried desperately to figure out what he had just read.

He needed to get this to a condemner. He needed to get his children clear of the madness that had swept up his father and sister. He needed to warn his mother-

His mother.

How much did she know? There was no way she didn’t know any of this, right? The floorboard being misplaced wasn’t hard to miss. He had detected it merely by stepping into the room. She would at least have gotten curious, right?

But he had no proof beyond a hunch. Who could he trust? Evereth, he realized.I can trust her for sure.The letters had implied that she resisted their attempts to turn her to Aclazotz. If he could get his twins to Luneau, he could speak with her and find out what to do next.

He heard the door open behind him.

He pivoted hard and made it up to his feet. Dulce was at the door with cleaning supplies. She looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Apologies,” he forced out, making himself sound calmer than he was. “I was just...” The letters felt heavy in his pack. He gestured vaguely to the room itself. “Coming to terms with what Father has done.” Not a lie, though not the full truth.

“I understand,” Dulce said softly, fidgeting with the broom. “If I may, Sir Guerra?”

Marciano nodded and stepped back further into the room, turning to head to the wardrobe like he had intended when he first got there. He retrieved a new dress for his mother as Dulce began to clean and dust. Then, he slipped out and headed towards the bath to draw it for his mother.

His head felt as though it were spinning. He was thankful that he didn’t have to breathe, nor did his heart need to beat, because both would be in a perilous state right now. He drew the bath and tried to coach himself back up out of the fear he was spiraling into.

He had evidence of his older sister and his father being worshipers of the Betrayer and turning on the rest of their family. He had no such evidence regarding his mother. In fact, her reaction to his father’s infidelity pointed at her having no idea about any of this. He had to give her the benefit of the doubt for the sake of his kids, at least. He couldn’t just up and move them, he didn’t have any separate properties from his mother. Luneau had gone to Evereth and Atenea was in charge of the holdings in the south ever since Evereth refused to be the inheritor of the house.

Once he got his mother shuffled to the bath and left her to clean herself, Marciano headed towards his twins’ rooms. While they had separate rooms, he knew that they were often together anyway. Especially after Herminia’s death and his immediate re-deployment as tensions mounted higher than ever before. He heard them in Veronica’s room, so he knocked on the door a few times. “Hey kids, I’m home,” he called to get their attention.

Immediately, there was the sound of feet running across the floor before door swung open. “Daddy!”

He crouched and caught Veronica in a hug. Vicente wasn’t far behind, slipping into the hug as well. Veronica was the spitting image of Marciano himself, with curious brown eyes and a lopsided grin, while Vicente had their mother’s darker and more serious features.

“What happened, Daddy?” Veronica asked. “Grandma’s been crying a lot lately...”

Marciano took a deep breath out of habit rather than need. He didn’t want to have to explain his father’s crimes to his kids. But he needed to. He couldn’t lie to them. “Well... It’s about your grandfather. He’s been doing some very bad things for many years now, and we only just found out about them.”

“Is Grandma okay?” Vicente quietly asked, gripping Marciano tightly.

“She’s...very sad right now,” Marciano began. This was difficult to explain, but... “It turns out that your grandfather hasn’t been faithful to your grandmother. He had children with women who weren’t her, and they were related to the pirates. Your grandfather’s already faced his punishment, but it’s been really hard for your grandmother.”

Both of the kids were surprised by this. Veronica tightened her hold on her father. “What’s gonna happen?” she asked, fear evident in her voice. “Are we gonna have to move again...?”

Marciano gently tightened his hold on his twins. “That’s what we need to figure out as grown-ups. There’s a lot going on, but for right now, I need you both to be very brave and to help take care of your grandmother. If she asks you to do or not do something, listen to her, okay? I need to talk to a lot of people in the next few days.” Like a condemner for what he discovered about his sister and father colluding to kill the rest of their family, though he didn’t say that aloud.

Marciano slipped out into the alleyway and took a shaking breath. He had gotten the letters to the condemners and finished being interrogated about where he found them and how. Once he was fully screened to ensure that Aclazotz wasn’t influencing him, he had been let go. Now he needed to figure out how to explain this to his mother and children as well.

He heard the sounds of cards shuffling nearby. His brow furrowed. Not many people played cards at this time of day, especially not out on the street. He crept forward near-silently and peered around the corner.

At first, he had trouble parsing the person he was seeing. It was impossible to tell if they were a man or a woman, and their hair was split almost half-and-half between brown and grey. They had very light purple eyes with pupils that blended into the iris. Their attire was just as strange: pants of an unfamiliar material with a bit that came up over the chest and a red-and-white shirt with buttons and strange folds. Even the cards in their hands, a large deck with a brown back, made them stick out even more against everyone else. They were chatting with two squires and waved good-bye as the two headed off, then leaned back against the building they were beside, still shuffling the cards in their hands. The small table in front of them had a simple cloth across it, presumably to protect their cards.

Marciano blinked a few times. He had seen a few strangers from other planes ever since the Omenpaths opened up, but usually they were Innistradi or Therosian. This person certainly wasn’t from either of those planes. Regardless, Marciano felt a strange pull of sorts, which brought him over to them.

They offered him a lopsided grin. “Howdy, sugar,” they said, their voice thick with an unfamiliar drawl. “I’m Rune, an’ this is Crow. How can we help ya?”

“I’m... I’m Marciano.” He couldn’t use his family name. Not right now. “Help me with what, exactly?”

“Me an’ Crow, we’re travelin’ storytellers an’ advice givers,” Rune explained. “We travel all over the place an’ help folks figure things out.”

Marciano wondered if this was some kind of cosmic joke. But he looked around to make sure no one else was around and, once confirming that they were alone, pulled a nearby barrel over to the table to sit on it. “I guess you’re right about that,” he said, keeping his voice down. “There’s...a lot of things that have happened lately that have...made things difficult to know what to do next.” How much should he even share with them? They were a stranger. A charismatic stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

“Sugar, I ain’t gonna tell ya to share anythin’ you don’t wanna share, but if you need help, ya have to be willin’ to open up,” Rune said, their voice soft and reassuring. “At least with the folks ya care about.”

“...That’s the problem,” Marciano finally confided. “My father’s a cheating, Betrayer-worshiping bastard, and he and one of my older sisters have been betraying our family and arranged the deaths of her husband, my wife, our younger sister...” He blinked a few times, suddenly aware of the fact that he was crying again. He wiped his face quickly. “I’m trying to figure out what to do next for my kids and...and for my mother, and nephew, but...I don’t know what to do.”

Rune listened. They didn’t judge, nor did they say anything until he was done. Finally, they nodded and set the deck of cards down on the table. Right in front of Marciano’s eyes, cards jumped from the deck and landed face-down across the cloth. Rune folded their hands and leaned forward to get a look at the five cards. “Well. Where do you wanna start?”

Marciano swallowed. This had gotten strange pretty quickly, but he reminded himself that sleight-of-hand card tricks were common and overall fairly easy to learn. “At...at the beginning,” he said, lowering his voice.

Rune nodded and flipped over the first card. The artwork rippled and changed before Marciano took it in, so he was looking at seemingly an altered version now. It depicted two children arranging flowers and plants inside of large, golden chalices. As Marciano watched, the children seemed to alter themselves to represent a younger version of himself and his younger sister Elodia. A lump formed in his throat.

“The Six of Cups upright, or what it was a moment before, in the far past position,” Rune said, watching Marciano’s reaction to it. “Innocence, sentimentality, nostalgia, reunions, memories, sweetness, affection, and one’s childhood. Traditionally known as the card of pleasure, it’s also associated with the Sun in the form of energy and enlightenment.”

Marciano licked his lips. He didn’t speak just yet, just taking in the image. How did they do that? How did they know what he and Elodia looked like as children, before their respective Rites? Finally, he spoke. “What comes next?”

Rune flipped over the next card. Its artwork rippled until he saw a man and a woman standing together under a rainbow of chalices while two children played nearby. Himself, Herminia, and their twins.

“The Ten of Cups upright in the past position,” Rune identified when Marciano looked to them. “The card of ultimate familial contentment.” Their hand moved to the next card. “Unfortunately, we both know what comes next, as this is the card in the present position.”

He swallowed. “Flip it. Please.”

And so, they did. The artwork rippled once more. Lightning struck his home, sparking flames. Two people watching it burn from afar. Camilo and Atenea.

Rune tapped their fingers on the card. “The Tower upright in the present position. Complete an’ utter catastrophy an’ disgrace, utter ruin because of someone’s deception.” They met his gaze, and he tried not to shrink away. “This card is why you’re speakin’ with me today.”

“How did you...” Marciano trailed off. This didn’t make sense. How did they already know?

Rune didn’t answer his question. Instead, they flipped the next card. Once more, the artwork rippled, and the image of a man on a horse appeared on it. It shifted to look like Marciano himself. He looked focused, as if knowing exactly where he would go. A length of wood was in his right hand, held like a sword.

“The Knight of Wands upright in the near future position,” Rune mused aloud, examining the card. “What you need to do now is to move. Stayin’ in one place will just tear you apart slowly as you think an’ overthink. There will be opportunities to move in ways that you didn’t think of before, so you need to take ’em.” They sounded incredibly certain about that.

“And...I assume that’s the far future position?” The longer this went on, the more Marciano put faith into it. If this strange method to get advice were against the will of the Church, surely someone would have stopped this Rune and Crow duo before now. “What is it?”

Rune flipped the final card over. Its artwork shifted to depict Marciano leaping down into a fight with faceless, armored figures, wielding nothing but the wooden stick from the previous card. He was focused, and the enemy was already scrabbling to make up for the unexpected attack from above. Their shields were lowered, leaving them defenseless.

Rune tapped this card too. “The Seven of Wands upright in the far future position,” they identified. “A card of courage, determination, and vested self-interest. A primal struggle for land, dominance, and the spirit. Standing strong even against the popular angle. Traditionally known as a card of valor.” They met his gaze. “Your fight is far from over, whatever form that fight may take. But you’ll still be kicking for a good, long while. Just remember who you’re fighting for.”

A shiver crept down Marciano’s spine. He stared down at the cards, taking them all in. How had this person and their deck of cards so easily outlined his life? How did they know about his father and elder sister’s betrayals? How did they know about his kids, about losing his younger sister and his wife?

Rune offered him a sad smile when he finally looked back at them instead of the cards. “It’s unfortunate that your life has been this eventful as of late, Captain,” they said. He realized he hadn’t told them his title. “And it won’t get any less eventful any time soon. Tell Evereth hello for me, will you?”

“Captain Guerra!” someone called. Marciano turned and saw a squire running over, who was out of breath by the time she got there. “New orders, sir, for when you’re ready to return to the line. A request for more soldiers at Luneau because of a new Omenpath.”

“I’ll-” Marciano turned back, but found Rune, Crow, and even the fabric they had laid on the table gone. It took him a moment to process that, but he shook his head and focused. “Good, thank you. I’ll head out to unite with the rest of the company shortly.”

Luneau. Guess things really were suddenly working out. He just needed to let his kids know that they were going to be moving as well. He’d take his chances with an Omenpath and its unknown dangers over the Betrayer.

None of them had expected a storm of this magnitude. Marciano had barely been able to grab his twins and take to the air before the Legion ship was dashed on the rocks. A larger and flatter rock nearby served as the place where those who could not swim or fly and the supplies they recovered were placed. A quick headcount revealed that everyone had, thankfully, survived, but most of the crew and the few Legionnaires who were not skymarchers were now trapped. The rain continued to beat down, and the waves crashed and threatened to try and take them again.

Marciano would not let his children be taken from him. Not by the Stormwreck Sea. Not when they just needed to get to Luneau and he could figure out how to keep them safe there. Not when he could appeal to his eldest sister for help.

He just needed to get there.

“Captain Guerra!” one of the Legionnaires called over the sound of the storm. “What do we do now?”

Marciano didn’t answer right away. He took stock of everything. His twins clinging to his legs. The exhausted and soaked crew. The scant supplies they had recovered. The odds were not in their favor.

Something caught his eye. Another ship in the distance, coming towards where they had been marooned. Coalition, not Legion. But he couldn’t afford to be picky.

Marciano handed his hammer to the Legionnaire, then addressed his twins. “Veronica, Vicente,” he said, raising his voice so they could hear him. When they both looked at him, he went on. “Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.” He hoped that wasn’t a lie.

They didn’t want to let him go. But the other Legionnaire took them and held them close for Marciano. The bottom half of his body turned into mist, and he took off through the storm.

It didn’t take long for the ship to notice his approach. Now that he was getting closer, he could identify it as a Storm Fleet ship. Just his fucking luck. They were readied for battle, but he raised his hands to show that he was unarmed as he landed on the deck. “My name is Marciano Guerra!” he yelled over the storm. “I need to speak with your captain!”

After so many years of fighting the Coalition, one figured out very quickly when the boss of a ship was on their way. Marciano turned in the direction of the footsteps he could hear over the rain and felt the little bit of hope he had die.

Avarett Hamett was a human woman in her late twenties, with sharp brown eyes and stringy brown hair. The First Mate of the Storm Fleet had a cutlass in her right hand and an anchor in the left, and her heels thumped against the wooden deck of the ship as she approached. Several scars marred her face and hands...scars that Marciano himself had put there when Camilo caught up with their ship a few times in the past. Before Marciano had found out about his father’s infidelity and the fact that his bastard half-sister was none other than Captain Lannery Storm.

“Captain Guerra,” Hamett greeted, raising her voice so he could hear her over the wind. “What the hell are you doing on my ship?”

Her ship? Wasn’t it Storm who was in charge of whatever ships Hamett was on? Marciano pushed that thought away and focused. Right now, his best hope for the safety of his children and his crew was the Coalition.

The world is changing, Guerra, High Marshal Guitirre had said to Camilo during his duel and arrest. Now is not the time to be causing more strife and fighting. We are trying to build alliances in a time of near-unparalleled upheaval. And despite everything we have done to them and they have done to us, they are still willing to try treating with us kindly, and begin mending some of the sins of our past.

“The ship my crew was taking to Luneau was wrecked by the storm,” Marciano explained, keeping his hands in the air with his palms facing each other. It was the easiest way to show that he wasn’t trying to cast any spells or reach for any weapons. “My children were on it. Now we’re all stranded. I am ready to bargain whatever is necessary to get everyone to safety.”

Hamett’s brow rose. The rest of the ship’s crew exchanged looks. Marciano waited, glad that he didn’t need to breathe, otherwise him holding his breath might end badly.

Finally, Hamett spoke. “In that case, it’s up to Captain Storm what happens to you, but we’ll come get your crew and Legionnaires.”

“Thank you,” Marciano said, bowing his head. That was all he needed.

The captain’s quarters of this ship clearly hadn’t been used in some time. Marciano had been forced to leave his armor and weapons in the care of the ship’s gunner, a woman named Bessie Ragnor, and had allowed his hands to be bound in front of him. Now he was sitting on a chair that was nailed to the floor and waiting for First Mate Hamett to finish doing...whatever it was she was doing.

She was digging around for something in the small trunk under the hammock. “Aha!” She came back up with a strange box in her hands. “Found it.”

Marciano’s brow furrowed. “What is it?” he asked. It was easier to hear everything now that they were sheltered under a roof.

“Somethin’ that’ll help speak to Captain Storm.” Hamett fidgeted with it a bit, and a bit of magic appeared inside of the box. It seemed like it was looking elsewhere, but Marciano couldn’t see very well from his current position. “Fandango! Is the captain available?”

“Getting another soda after training,” a voice responded. “She’ll be back shortly. Is there a problem?”

“We picked up some waterlogged vamps,” Hamett said with a scoff. “Headed by none other than Captain Guerra, shipwrecked on their way to Luneau. I wanted to know Captain Storm’s call on this mess.”

“The hell’s going on, Tony?” That was a far more familiar voice. Storm had clearly gotten back to...wherever she and this mysterious Tony were.

“Legion ship was shipwrecked, First Mate Hamett picked up the survivors, apparently your half-brother was in charge,” Tony summarized. Hamett nodded, evidently visible through whatever was going on in the box.

Marciano watched, his brow furrowed. His fate hung perilously in the balance right now. But if this was what it took to get his kids, his crew, and his Legionnaires to safety...well, shit, he’d take that chance. He had been pretty sure that he would die by Coalition hands and blades anyway.

Storm audibly sighed. “Has he tried attacking anyone?”

Hamett frowned and shook her head. “No. He let us disarm him and...technically hold him captive.”

“Then as far as I care, just dump him wherever he intended to go and get back to High and Dry. We’ve got enough problems with the psycho bitch planeswalker, we don’t need to get the Legion crawling up our asses on top of it.”

That caught Marciano’s attention for multiple reasons. Namely that there was a planeswalker that hated the Storm Fleet. But he still stayed quiet when he saw Hamett’s expression darken.

“Speaking of, any news on that front?” Hamett asked, as though Marciano weren’t even there.

“I’ve been talking with some...people I’ve encountered here,” Storm answered carefully. “There’s apparently something they have on their home plane that we could use for that, but they don’t know how quickly they can get that to us. I also have been getting my ass thoroughly kicked.”

“We would have to find out how she can tell when we attack or where we are,” Tony added. “We’re not entirely sure how she can do that, but Vasro has been getting me some leads on that front.”

Marciano shifted in the chair he was in. “May I ask what’s going on?” he finally asked, feeling a bit like a fish out of water.

“Turn the lens,” Tony instructed Hamett. “We may as well get him filled in since he’s here.”

Hamett rolled her eyes but turned the box so that Marciano could look into the “lens”. The two were sitting in some kind of ward or infirmary, though it clearly wasn’t one in High and Dry. Tony, it turned out, was a very-bird person wearing clothing that Marciano had never seen before. Since Marciano had never seen a bird person like this, he couldn’t even begin to take a guess at Tony’s gender.

And Storm...well. She had certainly looked worse. She had pulled her hair back into a ponytail rather than leaving it loose like it normally was, and she had a cut across her left cheek that she was already cleaning and bandaging. Now that they weren’t fighting, Marciano was picking out the features that they had inherited from their shared father – a rounder face, a strong nose, and the same shade of brown in their eyes. Marciano just better resembled their father since he was also a vampire.

“So, do you want the long version or the short version?” Storm asked as she finished applying the bandage to her cheek. Tony took the extra trash and tossed it out of the focus of the lens, presumably to deal with later.

“Whichever version makes the most sense,” Marciano responded carefully.

“Very recently, during a regular trip to Theros to trade goods with the locals, the South Storm was attacked by a planeswalker woman by the name of Sophrosyne,” Storm began. She shifted a little, clearly uncomfortable. “She’s basically the maddened cleric of a compleated and dead god from Theros. She had an army of these things called ‘griffins’, like...really fucked up giant cat-eagle combination things. They attacked my crew, but she kidnapped me and...did weird things to my mind to try and turn me into...into someone else.”

Mind magic? Marciano had unfortunately been on the receiving end of some during the invasion and had only barely survived and escaped it. Surprisingly, he felt a pang of empathy for the fleet commander.

“I was rescued by Tony here, who’s a member of the Dokuchi Reckoners here in Kamigawa, and by Aoidi, one of the Champions of the remaining Therosian gods. It’s...taken a bit to figure out how to deal with what she did to my mind, but it’s...kinda fixed now? Or at least settled.” Storm fidgeted a little.

The Dokuchi Reckoners. They had become a fairly common name in Torrezon, between the healing syringes that they brought to the glorifiers, the help they had given to Alta Torrezon when the spellbomb went off, and their boss meeting the Saint, the Pontifex, and the Queen after the Innistrad mission. And somehow the Brazen Coalition had an in with them, to the point where one of their own would go rescue a fleet commander. That was information worth keeping in mind.

“Then she somehow tracked me down to my apartment in New Capenna and attacked me,” Tony finished. “And somewhere in there, I was doing some snooping into other ways she could have tracked Storm down or come to know her, and found out about...Camilo Guerra.”

Marciano’s mouth suddenly felt dry. “You were the one to find that book?” he asked, leaning forward toward the lens. He saw Hamett tense and quickly settled down again so he wouldn’t be read as a threat.

“Not quite,” Tony clarified. “It was one of the housekeepers. I promised them protection and anonymity in return for the information, which I then took to High Marshal Guitirre. I also noticed that one of the floorboards had been regularly peeled up and replaced, so I made sure that was loose.”

By the Saint’s very teeth. “I...found that and peeled it up,” Marciano admitted. “My father’s been conspiring with one of my older sisters to either draw the family to the side of the Betrayer or have them killed. They’ve killed my sister’s husband, my wife, and my younger sister. I...I just turned the evidence in to the condemners this morning. Part of why I’m heading to Luneau is because I know that my eldest sister rebuked them, and it was the safest place to bring my twins. My mother is staying in Torrezon to try and help with my nephew during all of this.”

Hamett recoiled slightly at the news. Tony’s brows (did a bird person even have brows?) rose. Storm’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Holy shit,” she breathed. “I knew all the shit with the bat was intense there, but I didn’t realize it was that intense.”

Intense was an understatement, but Marciano just rubbed his face with his bound hands. “...This is why I had no problem turning myself in to your crew,” he admitted. “It...feels like there’s not much left for me, but if I can at least get safe passage for them... I’m willing to face whatever you think is fitting for what I’ve done to your fleet.”

“...Avvie,” Storm said, getting Hamett’s attention. “Get them to Luneau, let him get his kids settled in safely. Then I’ll ask Vasro to bring him here. He’ll be helping us with the Sophrosyne shitshow.”

Marciano’s surprise was visibly mirrored by Hamett. “You sure, Lannery?” Hamett asked.

“I mean, there’s already an entire ship’s worth of Legionnaires here because of an Omenpath that opened in the big ol’ lake,” Storm deadpanned. “I’ll talk with High Marshal Guitirre since he’s here, and we’ll get things figured out.”

It felt like every new bit of information was a slap in the face for Marciano. High Marshal Guitirre was in the same place that Captain Storm was? There was another Omenpath, one that led to some kind of lake in this Kamigawa plane?

“Copy that, Captain,” Hamett said with a nod. “Good luck. I hope you’ll come back soon.”

“That’s out of my hands, but I’ll keep kickin’ until either we beat this bitch’s ass or get our asses thoroughly beat,” Storm declared. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Good. See you around, captain.” The box’s magic seemed to go still and dead in Hamett’s hands, and she placed it back in the trunk. Then, she turned to Marciano and put her hands on her hips. “Well. I’m not sure how this is all going to go, but... Good luck with hunting down a mad planeswalking priest.”

Marciano had a feeling that he’d need a lot more than just luck.

Marciano had only been twelve the last time he was in Luneau. His uncle and aunt, King Lucard and Queen Salazar, had still held power and collected dinosaurs from Ixalan to add to their menagerie, alive or dead. Lucard had been Camilo’s elder brother and had left their House to play sovereign of his own land, still bowing to Queen Miralda in name but not necessarily in deed. Salazar was far more like a proper Legionnaire – Marciano had recognized her paladin’s gait even when he was just a squire. While Lucard had become resigned to the decadence of nobility in his position, Salazar spent the duration of their visit teaching Marciano some proper swordfighting techniques that were supposed to be saved for later in his training. He had never mentioned it to his parents, but he liked his aunt a lot more than his uncle.

Then that planeswalker had come to Luneau and leveled it with the ghosts of animals and dinosaurs.

After Lucard’s death, Evereth had been assigned the place by Camilo, who was too busy hunting Coalition pirates to bother with his elder brother’s land. As Lucard had done, Evereth shed the family name and stepped into ruling the land as a monarch while it was rebuilding. She had then whipped everything back into line with the Church and opened Luneau as a port first and foremost, then all else in the city followed. There had been some controversy, naturally, but Evereth’s few letters back home had made it clear that, even with Omenpaths opening after the Phyrexian invasion, the new Luneau stood strong.

As the Gallant Angel came to dock, Marciano stood armed on the deck with Hamett and some of his Legionnaires to make it clear that they weren’t being held captive and that the Coalition crew was willingly bringing them to port. Marciano’s palms were sweating in his gauntlets.

“Captain Guerra?” one of the other paladins said, shifting a little and keeping a hand on his own rapier. “What are your commands when we make it to dock?”

“Meet up with the rest of the Legion stationed here for a debrief,” Marciano said. “I’ll be speaking with my sister.” The paladins nodded and went to help the crew from their own ship get ready to dock.

“I don’t envy ya for that,” Hamett muttered, watching the dockhands prepare for the ship to finish coming to port. “We’ll stick with the ship. See ya around, Captain Guerra.”

“Marciano,” he corrected softly. “Let’s just go with Marciano.”

Hamett studied him for a moment, but she finally nodded. “Marciano,” she repeated. “Come back down here and let me know when you’re ready for Captain Storm to send Vasro.”

The layout of the palace was completely different from how it looked when Marciano was twelve. Evereth had commissioned it to have a large, open courtyard within the walls and a few walking paths before you got to the palace proper. There were some strange things made of metal in particular areas of the courtyard, as though they were supposed to be markers for something that Marciano couldn’t see. The plants were nearly as wild as the ones beyond the courtyard, as though the wall had merely been erected around them rather than them being planted purposefully.

There were other strange things in Luneau that he had noticed when he and his twins were heading towards the palace. For one thing, the humans in the town weren’t just Torrezone or Ixalec, and there were nonhumans who clearly weren’t from Torrezon and Ixalan either. People with blue or grey skin and rabbit-like ears, people with sharp ears and very deep complexions, non-Torrezone vampires, and even a handful of bald angels with feathered wings.

Marciano hid his surprise when he saw that some of the guards were equally as strange as the new citizens in Luneau. Two more of the rabbit-eared people (he was having a very hard time telling if they were men or women) stood at the doors of the palace.

“Captain Marciano Guerra,” he said to identify himself when they stopped him and the twins. “Evereth is expecting me.” The guard on the right nodded to the one on the left, who slipped inside of the palace to verify. Once the guard returned, Marciano was allowed inside. He kept Veronica and Vicente close.

The internal décor was...certainly something. It seemed to be a blend of iconography from several places, with a strong focus on the roses of the Church alongside eight-pointed sun crests, swooping blue wind-like symbols, and black-and-green serpents. But it all reeked of luxury and opulence in a way that made Marciano want to bare his fangs. He kept his mouth shut, though, heading down the hall and towards what was likely the throne room.

Evereth had styled herself as the new King of Luneau after previously calling herself the Viceroy of Plunder, and both titles fit well. She was two inches taller than Marciano when they were both standing, even without heels. While Marciano resembled their father more, Evereth looked more like their mother. Her brown hair was pulled back into a practical braid, and her eyes were darker than Marciano’s were. She wore golden armor, held a spear across her lap, and looked as though she were ready to leap into a fight at any moment despite the otherwise casual position she was sitting in.

Standing beside her throne were three women, all of whom were quietly discussing something. One was a pale blue-skinned woman who resembled the two guards. Another was a dark-skinned and pointed-eared woman who had what seemed to be a large deer with her. And the final one was another bald angel.

Regardless, when Evereth saw Marciano, her eyes lit up in delight. “Marci! Thank goodness, I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly with the storms around.”

Marciano smiled before he remembered everything going on. He couldn’t help it – it was reassuring that at least one member of his family was still sane and hadn’t fallen to the Betrayer. “Evie,” he greeted, inclining his head a little to show his respect even as he used the family nickname for his eldest sister. “We were shipwrecked along the way, but the Storm Fleet was surprisingly merciful and brought us here.”

“Well, how about that. I suppose miracles do happen on occasion.” Evereth stood up and handed her spear off to the dark-skinned woman. Once she did, she swept forward and pulled Marciano into a hug.

He hugged her back, shakily exhaling the breath he had been holding. “It was a miracle we certainly needed.” He pulled away and turned, gesturing for his twins to finally come closer.

Evereth smiled when she saw them and knelt down to be closer to their height. “Hello again, Veronica and Vicente,” she greeted. “You two have gotten so big since I last saw you!”

“Hi, Auntie Evie!” Veronica said, stepping forward and hugging Evereth. Vicente lingered behind Marciano for a bit longer, not as eager to hug his aunt.

Marciano took a moment to assess the three women. They each wore what seemed to be formal clothing from their respective planes. The pale woman with the rabbit-like ears wore her white hair in some kind of pulled-back updo, and her clothing vaguely resembled the robes of the Church, though in maroon and blue rather than white and black, though she had golden detailing like any clergy would. The dark-skinned woman with pointed ears had her dark brown hair pulled back into two long loops, and her green and brown pants, cropped shirt, and cape made her appear more like a well-trained hunter than some sort of nobility. That was only emphasized by the large deer with her. And the bald angel, somehow paler than Marciano himself, wore skintight black clothing with golden detailing that resembled the eight-pointed sun he had seen on the way in.

“Marci,” Evereth said, standing up after hugging Veronica, “meet Lady Oyoza of Otawara in Kamigawa, Lady Sigrid of Skemfar in Kaldheim, and Lady Tolme of Orzhova in Ravnica. Ladies, this is Captain Marciano Guerra, my younger brother.”

Marciano pressed his fist over his heart and bowed deeply in respect. He had heard of those planes, but he wasn’t aware that there were Omenpaths leading to them around Luneau. “An honor to meet you, esteemed ladies,” he said, hoping that he wouldn’t put his foot in his mouth. His gaze flicked to Evereth, silently asking how so many people from so many planes arrived in Luneau, seemingly without the rest of the plane finding out.

She picked up the meaning of the look. “We have much to catch up on, little brother. I’ll have the servants assist you in settling in, then we’ll speak more.”

All sense of formality and decorum was shed once the sun went down. Steel clashed against steel in the lantern-lit training yard. Marciano was, as usual, fully getting his ass beat by his sister. Not that he was surprised – Evereth had been considered for a Marshal promotion just before their uncle’s death.

“So let me get this straight,” he said, barely blocking Evereth’s next strike. “There are now Omenpaths to four different planes here, and you’ve already been in communication with various factions on three of them? Not only that, but the new ladies of your court are your...” He couldn’t find the right word because he was busy losing the duel.

Evereth disarmed him easily, sending his blade clattering to the ground. “I believe the term you’re looking for is ‘consorts’, little brother.” She leaned down to retrieve his sword and tossed it back to him.

Marciano caught it and dropped back into a more easily-defendable stance. “And...this is...known about here? No one’s challenged you about it?”

Evereth scoffed at the idea. “Those who have are already dealt with. Times are changing, little brother. Connections to various planes mean that we have to change with them and learn about other ways of life.” She went to disarm Marciano again.

He managed to keep his sword in his hand this time. “Have you told Mother?”

“I intend to invite her here and tell her in person. Which may be soon, if what you’ve told me about the problems on the mainland keep getting worse.”

“Have you heard the...the whispers?” Marciano tried to retaliate with a quick strike.

Evereth blocked it with practiced ease. “Of course I have. But we are holding out against his influence, likely because his focus is on Torrezon more than anywhere else.” That was both incredibly reassuring and not reassuring at all.

Marciano dodged a counterattack and stumbled a bit on the uneven training yard. He turned back just in time to block Evereth’s next blow. “Good luck then, Evie. And...thanks for agreeing to look after the twins while I’m gone.”

“Hey, as long as you tell me all of the stories of what you’ve seen on other planes, we’ll call it even,” she said with a grin, pushing more against Marciano’s blade. “Especially if you do manage to kill a planeswalker.”

“I have a feeling that hunting for her is going to be harder than the actual fight.” Marciano pushed back against Evereth, holding steady.

Evereth’s foot caught Marciano in the back of the knee, taking his leg out from under him. He grunted in pain when he slammed against the ground. Evereth’s blade now hovered just above his throat. “Don’t get cocky, little brother,” she warned as she moved her sword away and offered a hand to help him get back up. “But do keep an eye on what the Coalition has access to, just in case they start causing trouble for us despite the treaty anyway.”

“Of course,” Marciano agreed, accepting the offered hand and letting Evereth haul him back up to his feet.

The distrust between the Legion and Coalition was palpable and often made more apparent by the more aggressive members of both. High Marshal Guitirre was on...at least positive terms with two fleet commanders, but betrayal was the bread and butter for both sides at this point. Marciano would have to keep his guard up, but he could gather information on the Coalition at the same time for the Legion.

And a little part of him wanted to know just how many bastard siblings he had because of his cheating traitor of a father. The confirmed one of Lannery Storm was as good of a starting point as any.

[hoodlessmads]

Dark Heir spoiler thoughts:

Okay some of these are criticisms but please understand I really liked it! I liked it even more than Dark Rise. I’m just an overdramatic person and need to yell sometimes.

These don’t have any particular order, I’m just freestyling -

Reading Captive Prince years ago (and rereading since) before reading Dark Rise made me have an unfair resentment towards James for being basically the same character as Laurent but not as good and that continued here

Will is the second best character Pacat has ever made after Laurent and book 3 might push him ahead

I loved seeing Will use more and more of his evil powers

The best one being where he possesses anyone with a brand and his eyes turn black and he turns into Legion (maybe shoulda turned that off before trying to appeal to Violet…)

Finding out his mom actually was tying him to bedposts and beating him this whole time somehow shocked me because for some silly reason I believed one of the most unreliable third person subjective narrators ever, Will, that she was a nice lady just doing her best. Anyway I love this revelation because it makes such perfect sense, it’s just, “Oh. Of course.”

Violet and Cyprian are both himbos yet Violet is somehow the only character with a single brain cell left at the end of the book

Cyprian drinking from the cup makes no sense after they had a whole discussion in the first book about how drinking from the cup put the Stewards into the Dark King’s plans and made them his thralls and was the entire reason they died, a massacre which Cyprian experienced viscerally, and then he goes and drinks from the cup anyway and oops surprise Will can in fact enthrall him. Cyprian is able to fight it off but that doesn’t change the complete recklessness and out-of-character-ness of it to me.

Violet/Cyrprian is a good ship

Phillip/Visander is hilarious (in a good way)

Will/James is fine but I wish I was more compelled by them than I actually am. For being the main couple, I don’t feel like their relationship has been given the room it needed to develop organically and instead it feels like we’re falling back on physical attraction and a vague shadow of a past relationship in the old world that we didn’t get to see. It’s hard not to compare to Damen/Laurent which by contrast was developed so painstakingly.

Elizabeth is incredible

Visander sucks, actually

The whole Light kind of sucks. The Stewards, the Sun Kingdom, they were all assholes

People with black-and-white morality are truly terrible, aren’t they? And pretty much everyone is like that except for Will, James, and Violet

Sometimes I felt like that fact was really being hammered in on purpose almost as though to make James murdering like 300 people seem less bad (but it didn’t….)

But I don’t dislike James because he murdered 300 people, I actually love villains and I especially am attached to the idea of everyone being redeemable. But what I don’t like is the book telling me I should like James without giving me a good reason or the book downplaying his actions to make him seem more sympathetic. He can have murdered all the Stewards and still be compelling, we don’t need to diminish what he’s done in order for him to be likable

Also everyone in this book except like, Will and maybe Violet and James is an idiot (and I’ll excuse Elizabeth for only being ten). Someone send these characters to Psych 101, they don’t seem to understand the concept of a self-fulfilling prophecy…

Like obviously if you tell someone they’re evil over and over again for their whole lifetime they will become evil

Theory - I don’t think Violet will turn on Will. I think she’s just shell-shocked. She wasn’t really given a chance to take a stance before James Peter Panned him away. Violet knows exactly what it feels like to be told you are evil because of some past thing, and she knows Will better than any of the other characters. And she knows that morality is not black and white (Tom is her brother). She’ll definitely end up in Will’s corner by the end.

Theory - The line of the Lady and the line of the Dark King are the same bloodline and they split off later. Sarcean’s “cataclysmic night together” with the Lady was mentioned not once but twice. Pacat doesn’t waste lines. The child that the Lady had was Sarcean’s, or at least one of them.

Will better figure out how to destroy that collar quick…before they both get even more traumatized. I think that will be one of his main goals in book 3. Or I hope…otherwise it will be hard to develop the genuine romance

I sure hope Will can also figure out how to expel that shadow from Cyprian before he like… dies. Don’t do that to Violet D:

So, I’m not a huge fan of YA in general (outside of YA anime and manga which for some reason hits different). I used to like it a lot, it used to be most of what I read. I grew up reading series like Redwall, Darren Shan, Demonata, Pendragon, and so on. But I’ve grown out of the genre (I’m 27). Not every adult does - one of my best friends who is a year older than me still really enjoys YA. But because I don’t like YA, I think my enjoyment of Dark Rise/Dark Heir is influenced and my criticisms may be unfair.

But I find that with fantasy series like this, I the books really need to be longer. Or there needs to be more of them. I feel like Dark Rise has so many moving pieces, enough characters that there could be a trading card game (and there are literally collectible cards), so many different magical artifacts and magical powers, an entire magical old world beneath the semi-magical 1820s Europe world to develop, and also by the way a whole story that took place 10,000 years ago that has to be told at some point. I find myself feeling like all these different elements are being introduced and moved on from too fast and I wish they were all given more time to breathe. I think that’s part of why the relationship between Will and James feels a bit rushed to me. I don’t know if the short length of the series was Pacat’s choice or an editor’s, though. I don’t feel like Captive Prince had this issue because there were no supernatural elements, the cast was much smaller, and the plot was comparably simple so a lot of it got to be characters just talking to each other, which was great, and the world building was accomplished mainly through these interactions. The plot and world of Dark Rise is much larger in scope but the page count is the same (a little longer maybe).

So wait who is Mrs. Duval

Why did Ettore leave the Stewards anyway? Other than the obvious, which is that they suck

Where was Grace during the whole ending scene? Wasn’t she there but just not saying anything. As this total calamity befalls her only remaining friend group she finally has seen too much and just nopes out and is busy making tea in the corner or maybe popcorn

I do really like Cyprian btw in spite of thinking his moral code is shitty. Gave Violet a chance but sold Will for one corn chip… I see how it is (okay that’s not fair but you know what I mean, he has flaws)

It sounds like I’m in the majority when I say that I still don’t like Devon - I saw that theory about him being the final big bad and I’m so on that train. I think he’d make a good enough final villain. I agree there is something predatory about him and Tom. I don’t necessarily think Pacat wants us to root for them as a couple, though. There were better ways to pull that off if that was the intent.

Not to repeat myself but Phillip was such a pleasant surprise. Like who is this fruit and how did he get here

So next book, I hope (assume) we get to see the rest of the old world story filled in so we can understand where it all went wrong for Sarcean and also the exact nature of his relationship with Anharion because so far it’s been quite vague (intentionally I assume). Like….. you know….. did he agree to put on the collar?

The tricky thing about this series is that once the reader learns that Will is the Dark King, it’s hard to maintain any sort of external tension. Right? It’s hard to feel afraid of the forces of the Dark when the protagonist has total effortless control over them just by virtue of who he is. Will can literally just be like, “No, don’t” and everything’s fine. He did just this at the end of Dark Rise. I find the way Dark Heir seems to end with their “only hope of stopping the Dark army” destroyed to be pretty unconvincing. Why on earth would Sarcean create a destructible object that is the only way of controlling his own army? Of course Will should be able to control them with his will alone. If he can control Shadow Kings and make them die with his words alone, why didn’t he try yelling at the shadow army to stop trying to possess people? This doesn’t make sense to me. And if people become Returners through his magic, shouldn’t he be able to exert some control over their existence the way he does with the branded? Pacat has done a good enough job at getting us to know Sarcean (an extremely good job btw) so as to make the destroyed brand plot point unbelievable. Anyway…

Instead, the tension in Dark Heir is almost entirely internal or realized in character relationships rather than physical threats. The tension is between Will and himself, and between Will and his friends. (There are tensions between other characters but focusing on the main plot here.) The possibility that they might find out and abandon him, and the possibility that he might actually be as nasty of a guy as Sarcean was, the slim chance that he might learn something that makes him go, “You know what, I agree with my past self after all.”

Now that everyone has found out who he is, that particular source of tension has sort of evaporated, so now in book 3 Pacat has to find a way to make Will’s conflict with himself and his friends compelling enough to carry us through 450 pages (I don’t expect this will be difficult). What I see as the problems now are 1) what was Sarcean actually planning and how did he plan on getting Will (himself) to fall in line with them (this was a question in Dark Heir as well but now it’s bigger), 2) how is Will going to destroy his own (Sarcean’s) Dark artifacts so he can free James, and 3) Can he convince anyone to ever love him (oh no ouch).

If I had to rank these books at this stage I’d probably give Rise a 3.7 ish…. and Heir a 4.2. I’m holding out for Dark King to be a 5 or close. (I don’t know what the actual title will be, I’m just guessing lol.) I definitely think Dark Heir is an improvement over Dark Rise since I always thought the most interesting part of the latter by far was everything that happened once Will learns he is the Dark King at the very end.

“Are we going to talk about the magic pseudo-sex scene—“ No and I hope we never will

[echoes-lost]

Val's solo book club

Not too long ago, I mentioned how pleasantly surprised I was by Horus Rising, the first volume of the Horus Heresy. It was so well written and compelling, humanising the Astartes and Primarchs, while still retaining their almost divine nature. It also established a solid starting point for Horus', well, heresy by sowing the seeds of doubt and insecurity and I expected a subtle descent, hints of a shift in mentality before everything came tumbling down.

And then I moved on to the next volume, False Gods....

What a let down. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad on it's own, but following the high that was Horus Rising only highlights how lacking False Gods is. I'm going to read it because I need to in order to get to Abnett's other volumes, as well as Dembski-Bowden's. Necessary evil I guess.

A Goodreads review called False Gods' characters shallower than cardboard cutouts, and yep, totally agree. The plot has no finesse or subtelty whatsoever. I mean, the trap is visible from miles away and relies on the characters, literal warfare geniuses, the best Legion in the Imperium, the Emperor's favorite son, being stupid and impulsive like... Seriously. It's like Luna Wolves from Wish.

And I don't know if McNeil was trying to emulate Abnett's writing style but it falls very very short. It doesn't even feel Warhammer. Like I said, maybe it would be good in a vacuum but I'm not so sure. I'm not expert the writing feels off in a way, rushed. The flow isn't good and all the repetition really turns me off.

I only have around 30% read so far and I hope it gets at least a lil bit better...If not, then hopefully Ben Counter's Galaxy in Flames is better. Honestly, I have no idea where it's going.

...

[ripplestitchskein]

This is super crackish but I am DELIGHTED. So in Western Energy Andrealphus’s actions indicate that he is playing his sister in order to gain the upper hand for HIM. He is obviously flattering and manipulating her and loses his patience multiple times “You stupid cow”, which shows through the cracks of what he is saying and his fake demeanor.

This could be just a weird brother and sister dynamic, he genuinely wants to get the money for Stella and she’s just stupid so he loses his patience but why go through this subterfuge and the song and dance of walking her through it to make to seem like her idea? I’ve always found the dynamic odd, why not just tell her flat out “You can’t kill him we need his money, if he dies it goes to Via.” Why coo and simper and put on a whole performance?

That reasoning also falls flat for me. Stella and Via do not appear to have a bad relationship, Via is often with her and Stella takes her on weekends. If Stolas died and Via inherited why would they assume she’d cast Stella out? Why does Stella need to inherit directly? She doesn’t have control of the money and power now. She never has. She just has access to it. Which she still could. What’s the difference? Wouldn’t a grieving, untrained, teenage daughter be easier to manipulate into giving up the money, power and legions than leaving Stolas alive and having to do some convoluted plan in a nebulous future involving an already powerful demon? Like bad planning Andrealphus, think it through.

Also, what does he even need this money and power FOR? He has a palace of his own. He has powers of his own. I assume legions of his own. He doesn’t appear to be hurting for money in his own right. For Stella’s sake? He seems to kinda dislike her? He certainly doesn’t respect her. He clearly thinks she’s an idiot. He’s obviously manipulating her and leading her towards something. So what is he trying to get that he doesn’t already have?

And why NOW? Why wait until after Stolas is trying to get a divorce? Like if he truly is doing it for her sake it makes sense it wouldn’t come up until her position was at risk. He might very well be doing this out of love for her.

Like the serious side of me knows there’s probably a larger plan at work on Andrealphus’s part than has been revealed and it’s entirely greedy and will be shown to us in Mastermind and Sinsmas, I also have some ideas for how Mammon/Oz/Fizz will tie that all together but today I was watching Western Energy and my insane brain was like “What if Vassago is a misdirect and Andrealphus is Stolas’s romantic fairytale lead?”

HEAR ME OUT. IT’S SO FUNNY

We have no other indication about what Andrealphus is like other than Stolas saying “Your arrogant brother”. That is our first description of him. That is a hugely popular romance novel trope. How many arrogant love interests exist in the romance space, like a billion? Think about how often a posh aristocrat has called their love interest “arrogant”. And the entire plot of one MC having to marry the brother of another. Like that’s peak romance novel.

What made me think of this is that when Andrealphus is talking to Stella his manipulations are solely about keeping Stolas alive. That is his entire stated goal. He elaborates with “Eternity is a long time my dear” and he sounds fascinated that Stolas is behaving this way. Like Andrealphus has an opportunity for something now. I was just like “In a different context this would read like Andrealphus manipulating her into keeping Stolas alive to save his life. Like technically Andrealphus saved Stolas this episode. That’s interesting.”

And then my brain snagged on the cover of the romance book, it being two avian demons and of course the trailer where we don’t see Stella coming for Stola and Blitz but Andrealphus.

And like if all this was happening because Andrealphus has been secretly in love with Stolas this whole time and found out she hired Striker the first time time so has been trying to keep him alive and get Stella settled and happy and out of the way so he can be with him? Like obviously Stolas would have no idea, but Andrealphus pining for him and doing all these things he doesn’t need to do since he’s already rich and powerful would make much more sense. In the short term, like I said they’ll prob reveal something about his actual motivations soon. But looking at where we are right this second that is not incredibly outlandish. It would take like a few flashbacks to sell that and make it work with the current plot.

Andrealphus making his case and Stolas being like “But I love Blitz” would even lead into a really interesting start to the class conflict. Andrealphus can’t believe an imp could be better than him, would be preferred over HIM a royal, and instead of doing what a romantic hero with that plot should do he goes villainous and tries to kill them. Like what an interesting thing for Stolas, to have the cliche romantic hero moment he wanted BECAUSE of a twisted cliche romantic plot line? And Andrealphus’s twisted romance begins a larger divide between imps and Ars Goetia in S3.

Like isn’t that wild? Wouldn’t that be amazing?

[bardan-jusik]

BIO POST

verp | 26 | they/he

my ao3: verpineshatterrifle

repcomm art blog: @verpine-art

mercs/cosplay blog: @trashcanmando

my accounts on other sites just in case

pfp credit

this is a general star wars blog, but Republic Commando (novels)/legends mandos are my primary interest and what basically all my own content is about

ABOUT ME

i go by verp or verpine, my blog name was previously trashcanmando

i don't interact with cloneshipping although i don't mind if other people do, i'm just not going to follow you if there's a lot of it on your blog. nothing personal

not pro-ship and not anti-ship, but a secret third thing: a person with nuanced opinions who can mind their own business

i will not reblog a post i disagree with unless the op is clearly inviting that sort of discussion. i will vagueblog though

FANDOM OPINIONS

top 5 characters: kal skirata, bardan jusik, ordo skirata, mereel skirata, fenn shysa

top ships: ordo/besany, atin/laseema, and manda help me, din/mayfeld and kal/mij

my costuming club modern au

i don't like the writing of bad batch or 2008 clone wars very much sorry, also mando season 3 makes me sad

i'm picky about my fanon, but i don't just hate all fanon. i just prefer it generally consistent with canon

my facecast for kal is daniel craig, and i have an agenda about it

i am an aroace bardan jusik and mereel skirata (hear me out) truther

in general i choose to ignore the ending of order 66 and 501st is a whump fanfic with interesting character and lore information in it but it isnt real xoxo #etainlives

kal skirata is my favorite star wars character and i will block on sight if you try and convince me he's homophobic/misogynistic/emotionally abusive/a fascist. if he's just not your cup of tea that's totally fine, but i'm gonna need you to display some reading comprehension

i like all of the characters, i genuinely like karen traviss' writing, (i also like kilo-5!) i strongly prefer legends over canon in any instance where the two conflict

TAG DIRECTORY

#verp talks : my own chatty posts

#verp chats : reblog chains of me having conversations with people, for easy blocking so you dont see the same thing a dozen times

#verp answers : my ask tag

#verp hc : my personal headcanons

#verp art : reblogs from my art blog

#costuming au : the repcomm characters are in the mercs/501st/rebel legion. my favorite modern au

#mindor liveblog : i read shadows of mindor and talk about it. any other liveblogging of other stuff i do will be tagged in a similar format

#fanon hate, #negative, #vagueblogging, #tcw critical, #tcw hate, #tbb critical, #tbb hate : i don't want to be a downer or ruin anyones fun but sometimes i just have to complain. block these tags if you don't wanna see me gripe. or search them if you wanna be salty with me

#mandalorian culture, and #jedi culture : this encompasses canon, fanon i like and think seems consistent with canon, and some joke posts

#beskargam : any time i think a post is notable for its mandalorian armor design or talking about the armor

#repcomm : the books

#republic commando : the game

#fanart : i dont tag all of it but i try

character tags: i try to use an intuitive version of their name, but some people are tagged with their ranks (#commander cody) some with their full name (#bardan jusik) and some with just their name (#sev). for hyphenated named i just do a space (#obi wan kenobi) yes i know i could just do the hyphen but its too late to change the system now ok?

i don't tag absolutely every post but i try to tag most things

[thevindicativevordan]

Comics thiw eek, with the debut of Absolute Flash ?

Anonymous asked: Comics this week? Especially last days of Luthor

dan-lee99 asked: Howdy there! You were probably gonna talk about it at some point anyway but I felt like asking what you thought of Absolute Batman now it's reached the 6th issue end to its first arc. I'm pretty invested in this take on Batman so far :>

Absolute Flash #1 - Of the Absolute books, this is the weakest start for me. Still enjoyable however, but it lacks a big "oh this is still recognizably Wally" the way the first issues for Bats, Wondy, and Supes showed that the core of the characters were still there. I'd been predicting this would be the Bendis/Bagley USM equivalent for the Absolute line and that seems to be the case. I'm betting that Wally won't even get his suit until the end of this first arc, first issue was very decompressed compared to the rest of the line though the Bendis parallels don't stop there. Like Ultimate Peter, Absolute Wally oozes teenage angst, and Lemire has a long track record of loner protagonists. Robles gives a franctic feel to the story with his art, and the teases about the nature of Wally's powers intrigue me. No Speed Force apparently which offers a lot of freedom to change how Flash's powers work.

Barry dying came as no surprise, of course he was going to bite it. But will he stay dead? Seen plenty of speculation that Barry will be the Absolute Zoom or Absolute Black Flash. The symbol on his suit is the reverse of Wally's. I'm hoping to see Hunter Zoloman serve as Absolute Zoom but Barry as the Black Flash would be acceptable for me. Barry is definitely one of the screaming faces we see in red when Wally's powers are fritzing.

Absolute Batman #6 - Mix of "yeah Snyder has still got it" and "yeah Snyder still has all the same flaws" here. Hype moments are as awesome as you could want - Batman dropkicking an evil kid, Batman beating Black Mask's face in with a bowling ball, Batman using his head spikes to stab Black Mask in the eyes. But Snyder's traditional weakness with endings is here too. Black Mask can throw around billions of dollars worth of crypto like it's nothing, but can't afford more than one boat's worth of servers to host his entire method for payment? Alfred orders the plane to take off but then comes out of nowhere at the end to save Bruce from drowning? Feels too convenient. Delivers dumb fun in spades though and that is enough for now.

The Last Days of Lex Luthor #2 - Been years since the last issue so was the second issue worth the wait? I'd tentatively say yes but with some caveats. First, Hitch is the true MVP of this book. His art is fantastic to look at, it's just a pity Waid is failing to take advantage of his talent. Hitch gives us these gorgeous spreads of Atlantis or the LoSH or Superman traversing the cosmos, and you're dying to see him cut loose with a big action scene spread. Instead so many pages are wasted on Waid rehashing Birthright for the people who haven't read it, or using characters as nothing more than screeds about his views on Superman. Waid doesn't even put forth a particularly compelling reason for why Superman shouldn't kill, or even just let Lex die. Arguing that if he kills one person, even a completely unrepentantly evil man like Lex is here, then he'll just keep killing bad guys isn't going to cut it nowadays - and for the love of God Waid, you need to accept that no one is going to find "if you kill this guy then you'll go kill the Joker" as a compelling counterargument since Joker has outdone Satan as evil incarnate to the point Injustice has to make Superman a Nazi to get the audience to not side with him over Batman. Wonder Woman also sucks here as usual for Waid.

Now as for what made it worth the wait? Call me an easily pleased fanboy but the tour of Superman's world was still fun. I liked seeing the Legion again, and them tweaking Lex's nose by pretending not to know who he was amused me. The trip to Atlantis was cool and Lori actually got used in a way that felt like more than Silver Age continuity wank. But what I absolutely loved, the big moment that made it all worth it, was when Clark revealed his secret identity to Lex, a desperate last gamble to try and bridge the gap between himself and Lex... and Lex mocks him for it. Isn't overwhelmed by remorse or feel empathy or even acknowledge their past friendship. Lex immediately picks up that Clark has been torturing himself for letting Lex break bad and twists the knife further: he doesn't regret a damn thing. He enjoys being a villain, he thinks he had a great life, much better than Clark's anyway. Can't help smiling at the sheer psychopathic narcissism on display, that's my favorite smug asshole.

Genuinely was surprised when Brainiac showed up but I should've seen it coming. That statue in issue 1 was obvious set up but I thought Brainiac would merely cameo at most. Instead he's revealed as the true Big Bad! Waid has talked about his ideas for Brainiac before, while I don't expect him to win me away from preferring the Johns/Morrison/Venditti revamped Brainiac, I'm down to see Waid justify why he thinks Brainiac is the foe Superman fears most. If issue 3 is on the same level as issue 2 I think this will sit alongside the World's Finest Magog arcs as a good B-Level Waid Superman story. If it gets back to how great issue 1 was, then it might yet sit in the A-Level alongside Birthright and Kingdom Come.

New Gods #4 - Cagle was born to draw New Gods, not too much plot to chew on this issue, but what a feast for the eyes his art is.

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2025-01-20

Getting the juices flowing, wait, no, not that way

Listening: Atarashii Gakko! is a thrash rock girl group who do these incredibly convoluted and elaborate music videos, I think I saw Pineapple Kryptonite ages ago and forgot to look into them. Their new thing is Tokyo Calling which is a great high-energy song. Terrifically catchy.

Reading: Finished The Spear Cuts Through Water. I love some gay boys who only know how to express their love through punching.

Towards the end the focus of the story starts to slip in a way that works really well with the framing device of the Inverted Theater in which the whole story takes place, as the story slowly moves from being about the protagonists to being about the world they leave behind.

At times I found that the book slowed way, way down, and at other times it moves you through pages at a breakneck speed. The slow sections aren't bad but they could be a little frustrating.

This is very good at selling you the image of the Whole World Around You, between the constant snippets of external thought interjecting onto your story, and the casual way the story moves up and down layers of narrative, you get a very expansive and layered look at the world. Closing out the book by going into the acknowledgements with no warning was incredibly jarring and is such a cool trick to pull off this well.

Watching: Watched John Wick Chapter 3: Parabellum while crashed on the couch trying to convince my slightly sick partner to eat more.

That's John Wick alright. Increasingly he doesn't have to say anything because we all know the deal. It's hard to get this kind of contextless context on mainstream media so it's cool that they can do it here.

As always: my conception of the people of this world is that they're the Faeries, they are the Seelie and Unseelie court, their world is layered on top of ours but basically never interacts except in extremis. There's a tiny bit of bleed through from normal organized crime but that's about it, otherwise they're simply too bizzare, their motivations too foreign. They clearly don't care about like. Real Money that much, they have their own currency that buys you seemingly Anything You Want, from the right guy.

Also watched American Psycho again after a long time. I forgot how much fun this movie is, he's so awful. The man has zero rizz!

Playing: I got my hands on a Lenovo Legion Go at a steep discount, so kicking the tyres on that. Mostly so far I watched my partner play through a few levels of Portal for the first time, which is fun! Truly one of the great games to watch someone play for the first time, even if they constantly badger you for hints.

It's a fascinating little device, shockingly powerful all things considered, I was extremely surprised despite knowing that it's basically a 1650 strapped to a lightweight performance AMD laptop chip. You can just run (low and change) Forza Horizon 5 on this!

I'm not used to controllers in 3D so I will probably stick to platformers and 2D RPG's and visual novels on this for the most part but it'll if nothing else serve as a platform I can plug a mouse and keyboard into and use as a spare PC if I want to do local multiplayer stuff at home. I want to work on a rig to make it an HTPC/gaming console type deal too.

Currently running Windows so I can get a feel for the expectations but it will get Bazzite'd at some point.

Making: Sketches and modelling to figure out some furniture. I found out that my hardware place does online cut-to-order plywood which is a huge boon for my project brain. I can cut wood at the makerspace in town and I still might, but you have to check what they have on hanger or order in some plywood which can get expensive fast once you add in saw time.

Trying to design a folding coffee table that turns into a side table when I'm not using it. I hate coffee tables but there are times when you need one. Current plan is oscillating between all wood or finally breaking down and buying a bunch of carbon fibre tubes to make something stupidly complicated.

This is pushing against not so much my skill level as much as my faff limit. Like. There was the option of doing this in brazed aluminium. But ideally I can do as much of this as possible at the free library makerspace and I don't want to deal with safely doing brazing at a library makerspace.

I also because I have brain worms want this to take down relatively small, because at all times I am thinking about Just Walking Out. Carbon tubes mean I can make it mostly slot and bolt together. Brass was an option but it's so expensive, and while aluminium tubes are an obvious choice I think they are simply piss ugly. I would genuinely do painted PVC first tbh.

Tools and Equipment: Caddy is a really neat project

I've used nginx for HTTP/S and CGI for many years but much of the Weague infrastructure runs on Caddy for simplicity. It's an HTTPS server with a very easy to use configuration structure, fully automatic HTTPS, that works even on local networks, and with a really solid plugin system for CGI. It is less performant than nginx but most of the time nginx is simply not your bottleneck. If you want your project to Just Work, whether that's static site hosting or a more complex application, Caddy is easy to deploy and low maintenance. No more hoping you get cron emails when your cert update fails!

Next time I run into an issue with my personal site infra that requires fixing by editing nginx.conf I'm probably just going to migrate to Caddy.