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outofangband · 1 year

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Sorry if you’ve done this before, but for Himring worldbuilding do you have any thoughts on the layout of the fortress and its architectural style etc? In fic I’ve variously seen it described as ranging from a single solitary castle all the way to a whole little walled city on the hill so I was wondering what you thought about that! Thank you so much ❤️❤️

World building masterlist (also more in the himring tag)

I think it's somewhere between a single castle and a walled city! It's a walled fortress comprising of a number of primary buildings within the walls and then a number of remote outposts throughout the March.

The Fortress of Himring stands on the hill of the same name. It is a stone fortress constructed primarily from slate, granite and travertine. Its construction took several decades and was worked on primarily by members of the Noldorin host Maedhros had brought there with aid from a group of dwarves from the Ered Luin Maedhros had formed an alliance with. In exchange for their help, they were given access to the geological resources of the March and protection while traveling North towards the Ered Engrin.

A number of stonemasonry techniques were utilized in the construction of Himring including arch masonry, dry stone (used primarily in the construction of remote buildings and lower walls), and post and lintel which makes use of pillars and beams. Most of the arches and arch systems of Himring are vault arches, that is, self supporting arched systems used to construct ceilings and roofs. This means spacious almost cavernous rooms with high ceilings. Almost all rooms have either fireplaces or fire pits with some buildings having a complex system of chimneys.

The fortress is built upon the Hill of Himring and rises up from the top with sections extending around towards the base of the hill and even some under the earth. The foundations rise to a sheer, wide tower with surrounding buildings connected through bridges and ground level passages.

The design is beautiful as is most creations by Noldorin architects but Himring is generally thought of as a grim, utilitarian place. It is a pallet of grays of varying shades, standing starkly against the cold skies. It is made to withstand both harsh weather and enemy attack. Its full plans are known only to Maedhros himself and there are many secret exits, hiding places, storage areas and other features understood on a need to know basis

Indeed, it is probably the most utilitarian of the Fëanorian realms with the lowest number of civilians. People went to Himring because they desired to be on the forefront of the battle with Morgoth. There is a population of non fighters, comprising of both soldiers who are unable to fight (temporarily or otherwise) due to injury and those with other distinct roles. They are employed as cooks, hunters, construction and repair, crafting, producing and mending essentials like clothes, weapons and blankets, overseeing trade and supplies, translation, cartography and strategy and others of the many jobs that are needed to maintain Himring.

There is a small market that operates within the walls of Himring but, due to rations and inventory protocol, is fairly regulated. (Any essentials, and there is a long list for this, are regulated and cannot be sold without formal permission. Luxury goods, puzzles and toys for the few children who live at the March, other crafts, and certain food items are usually sold here depending on what they are made from)

Most artisans come to Himring with the understanding that there wares will be primarily used for the war and supporting those fighting it.

The fortress is lined with parapets near its top. Half of them are partly covered to protect against the worst of winter winds and snow.

Steel is made in a bloomery and forge a few minutes away from the fortress of Himring itself where weapons are also made. The forge combines Noldorin techniques with some Sindar ones and weapons development is more prioritized than in most of the other Fëanorian realms. Animals are kept in lower, wooden outer houses towards the bottom of the hill of Himring, to protect against theft and the cold.

I have a post about gardens here!

I hope this helps! Please feel free to send more!

#the silmarillion #maedhros #beleriand #himring #musing and meta

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lokis-army-77 · 2 years

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Summoning part 9

Demon!Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 3756

Two months after the Demon has been gone, during a storm he comes back.

Warning: 18+ oral (male receiving), unprotected sex

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Masterlist (Taglist linked here)

It took a while to clean ourselves, dress, and clean the surrounding areas of the mess we had made. Blood had gone everywhere from the two bites the demon had inflicted on my neck and from the looks of it, I wasn’t entirely sure how I still had any blood left.

My whole body buzzed as we watched out bodied together in the shower and as we took the ruined sheets from the bed with a snap of his fingers they were gone, fresh bedding replacing them. It now looked like the encounter had never happened save for the impressively fast healing of the wounds on my neck. The places where his teeth has sunken in were slowly closing and scaring over, leaving the skin a little darker in those places than everywhere else.

As I prepared to leave with the demon to his home, which I assumed was Hell, I was walking all around the house, making sure everything was in tip-top shape. My parents were never home, they probably wouldn’t notice if I were gone, I was in college anyway they stopped caring after I decided to go to Hawkins Community instead of going off to some big university. I did write a note though, explaining to anyone who might care, that I had left and I was safe. The demon had told me that it was unnecessary to do so, that I was free to leave of my own accord, that he was not trapping me with him, but I wanted to, at least for my friend who knew vaguely about what had been happening for the last several months.

The whole time I was getting ready, the demon's hands never left my body. They travel over the length of my arms, around my shoulders, and gripped at my hips. He was all over me in a good way, I was relishing in his touches, leaning into his warm palms, sighing at the scrape of his fingers.

“Are you ready?” He mumbled into my ear once I had written my short note and placed it on the pillow.

I nodded, a hand coming up to tangle in his hair before twisting in his arms and kissing him.

“Then close your eyes.”

I did as instructed, burying my face in his bare chest and clinging to his shoulders. I could feel the muscles under his skin moving as his wings stretched out. He picked me up in his strong arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, and before I knew it, it felt kike we were flying. I clung to him even harder as I imagined ourselves high above the ground.

“You can open them now if you want.”

Hesitantly I opened my eyes and looked around us as best I could in the position I was in. The sky was dark but no longer stormy. It was almost a dark red, like fresh blood filling the sky. There was a moon, something I had not expected, and twinkling stars. In the far-off distance as I looked past the demon's right shoulder, I could see a flickering light, it was not large enough to have been a singular contained fire but more like the flickering of thousands of candles. Then I realized what it was, a city. A city in hell.

The terrain around us was mountainous, yet there was no fire and brimstone or flowing lakes of lava, just rocky hills and juts of land that when we flew, the demon had to expertly maneuver around. As we banked around in a particularly sharp turn, my eyes were met with what looked like a medieval castle nestled into the rock face, connected to another mountain by a long pillared bridge. It took my breath away. I don’t know what type of living space I had envisioned in my head, but it wasn’t something as miraculous as a castle carved into a literal mountain.

"Wow." I awed over the large building as the demon slowly made his descent onto the outer courtyard which was surrounded by a large stone wall. His wings sent powerful gusts of wind as we came closer and closer to the ground, dust blowing around us as his feet touched the ground.

He untucked me from his arms, carefully setting me on the ground before him. The still air was warm but cooler than I had imagined it would have been. The demon watched me closely as I spun around looking up at the enormous etching of castle walls, turrets, and windows protruding from the rock.

"This place is unbelievable."

"I take it that you like it then." He smiled, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Come, I'll show you the inside." His hand fell from its spot and grabbed my hand, pulling me along with him to the large set of grand double doors, they were taller than the demon, at least twice, maybe three, times his height.

I follow him curiously, excited to be given a tour of where he spent most of his time. I wanted to know everything about him, each crumb he could spare.

As we walked through the cool stone hallways and corridors, I couldn't help but notice the lack of life. For such a large castle I had seen no staff, noting. When we stopped to look into a room, one I could only presume was a dining hall, I asked the question buying on the tip of my tongue.

"Where is everyone?" I looked up at him with expectant eyes.

"What do you mean?" He seemed just as confused by my question as I was about the absence of people.

"You know, servers, workers, other demons? Where are they, this is such a big place and yet it's empty."

"Ah, I see." He cleared his throat, "well they would have to do with what I am the demon of."

"And what is that?"

"The banished." I am all alone here save for the few banished souls that come through."

I shook my head even more confused, he had once told me he was lord of nothing. This did not seem like anything.

"But you had said you were lord of nothing, just a demon as you were an angel."

"Yes, I did say that." He ran a hand through his hair. "This is nothing, I have no one here to preside over, anyone or anything which comes here always leaves, thus is the way of the banished and wondering. Therefore I am lord of nothing. The title became obsolete once the more recent centuries came."

I nodded in a sort of understanding, realizing that in the now in the 1980s people aren't really banished anymore like they used to be.

“I guess that makes sense.” I didn’t know what else to say on the subject, so I walked further into the enormous room. Down the sides of the room, the arcadings were beautiful, cutting out two small walkways from the main room. Each column is decorated with a spiraling pattern.

“This place is beautiful,” I turned and smiled at him.

He had a sort of strained look on his face, his frows were furrowed and his jaw tense.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, stepping over to him, crowing around him despite the vast amount of space in the room. I wanted to be near him, always.

“It is nothing.” He waived off my concern.

“The look on your face leads me to believe otherwise.” I reached a hand up to smooth out his brow. “You can tell me, I’m yours, remember?”

He chucked, face relaxing a little as he stared down at me. “I guess you are right. You are mine.” He then lent down to place a kiss on the almost completely heald marks on either side of my neck.

“This is something important, something you must never tell another living soul so long as you live.” He pulled away, face now serious. He was starting to give me whiplash with all the emotions bouncing around his features.

I nodded my head and watched him expectantly, leaning up on my toes in eagerness to hear what he was about to tell me.

“My name. It is the most sacred thing to me. Something that would give someone all the power they could ever want over me.” He stopped for a breath. “I want you to know it.”

I made a stunned gasp. He couldn’t be serious, could he?

“My true name,” He cleared his throat like he he had cobwebs engulfing the name he was spout to speak. “My true name is Edward.”

I looked at him confused. “It’s a lovely name, but that doesn't sound very demonic. I thought demons had scary-sounding names.”

He laughs, truly laughs at my statement before shaking his head, eyes shut tight as he tried to catch his breath. “Little one,” Another laugh,” I was an angel before I was a demon. My true name is not the same as the one mortals know me by.”

“Then what is that name?”

“Ezaxes.”

“Oh, well that fits the part then.” I chuckled.

My words made him laugh yet again. “You, little one, are a wonder.” He leans down to place a chaste kiss on my lips.

“I do love your name,” I admit. “Both of them. They fit you. Although Ezaxes seems to be more fitting when you’re angry.” I smiled, remembering the one time I had seen him filled with absolute rage, the night I had been kidnapped. My smile fell as I thought of those events but I was soon brought back out by his soft voice.

“Little one.” He looked at me kindly reaching his hand out to me. “Come, I would like to show you another room.”

I took hold of his outstretched hand and allowed him to lead me up a winding flight of stairs and down a dark corridor. Slowly we came to a spot that looked familiar, a place I had seen in many of my dreams. Once he opened the door at the end of the hall I instantly knew. It was the room in which we had met during my sleep. I had no doubt that it was his chambers.

He ushered me in and closed the door behind us. Without the room being a dreamy haze, I could see it in more detail. The walls were bare save for the one door we came through and the two doors which were on the two walls across from one another. The bed was still up on the dais like I remembered and it looked even more comfortable in person.

Pulling him along with me, I headed directly for the bed, wanting to lay on it, breathing in the smokey smell that was my demon which lingered on the sheets. It had only been a few hours since we had had sex but being stretched out on this bed with him staring at me from the edge had me clamping my legs together to provide a release to the ache that was quickly building up.

"Will you lay with me?" I asked him seductively, beckoning him to me. He sighed and crawled to me, wings synching in close to his back. He trailed a hand up my bare leg, stopping at my shorts-covered thigh.

I leaned into him, pressing my lips to his eagerly. "Sit back, please. Want to take care of you." I had gotten the sudden urge to take him into my mouth. He had given me so much pleasure in our meetings, I wanted to give back, thank him for entrusting me with a part of him he had never entrusted to anyone.

Pulling away from the kiss, I pushed him into a seated position, He stared at me with lidded eyes, arms stretched out behind him to hold his weight. Slowly I rubbed myself against him, sensually touching the bare skin of his chest, dragging my nails over the defined muscles until I reached the familiar cloth which covered him. Leaning back, I smiled and then started to take my clothes off, feeling the stifling hotness of the air around us building up.

His hand came to rest on my cheek. “What are you doing little one?” He smirked.

“Wanna make you feel good.” I sighed, nimble fingers tugging at the knot holding the cloth around his hips. As I untied it, I let my hand graze over his clothed cock, helping to get him hard. He was almost fully firm once I was able to untie the knot and practically fling the offending garment onto the floor.

He shuddered when I took him into my hand. He was hot and impossibly heavy. Slowly, I gave him a few pumps, the skin of his cock was soft and the veins which protruded around it made me gulp. I had no worry about it fitting in my own cunt but my mouth? It seemed impossible with its girth. I had not been face-to-face with it yet and now that I was, it was intimidating.

Shaking my thoughts from my head, I tentatively stuck my tongue out, laying it flatly upon the red tip.

“Fuck.” I heard him groan from above me, I smiled knowing it was just a simple lick that had him like this.

I continued on, swirling my tongue around him, wetting the skin. My grip on the shaft was firm as I continued to run my hand up and down slowly. Taking my mouth away I looked up at him through my lashes, his chest was heaving and his wings were rustling out behind him. It took everything in me not to giggle in excitement. Bringing my attention back to his cock, I brought it close to my lips but did not touch it to them. Instead, I pushed some spit past my lips and let it fall onto the head. My thumb came up to stroke it around, paying special attention to his slit.

One of Edward’s hands snapped to my head, fingers gliding through my hair and clamping down. I gasped at the sudden pain in my scalp but continued massaging him with my spit. With the added slickness, my hand was able to pump him faster without any friction.

“Mouth,” he grunted, head falling back. “Give me your mouth, now.” His hand pushed my head down onto him. My mouth opened as wide as I could make it go, and I struggled to fit him inside fully. Humming around him at the taste, I began to adjust, tongue moving to stroke one of the veins on the underside of his cock.

I began to bob my head up and down his length, sucking him up. I let my hands fall to his thighs, helping to support myself as I leaned over him. His hips began to wiggle a little, a sign that he was enjoying this. Moaning around him, the vibrations caused him to release his own noises.

My body was buzzing from my ability to make him feel this good. I could feel wetness creeping down my thighs as I kept on. Feeling him filling my mouth up had my pulse quickening and my breathing hard. Saliva was dripping around my lips and down his cock as I gagged a bit when he thrust suddenly into me.

“Hum,” He hummed at the choking sound, lifting his hips up again to fuck himself into my awaiting mouth. Expecting it this time, the feeling of him squeezing further down my throat made me gag but not as much as it had the first time. The hand he had in my hair tightened as he took control of the pace I had set.

I had wanted this to be about me pleasuring him, having him not lift a finger, but if he wanted to use my mouth I wasn’t going to say no. I let my left hand hold me steady on his leg while I snuck my right one between us to play with his heavy, cum-filled balls. He moved my head up and down faster when I began to fondle him, kneading them lightly between my fingers and in my palm.

“Fuck little one.” He gasped, I smiled around him as best I could at the new sound he was making.

He let me off of him soon after that. I breathed deeply, licking my lips and wiping my chin of all the slobber that had been produced. He looked and me before pulling me up to his face by my hair. I moved with him and quickly connected our mouths together. He was kissing me with a fervor I had never experienced, something new and all-consuming was flowing through us and I couldn’t help the butterflies erupting in my stomach.

I wasn’t fully paying attention to what his hands were doing, I was all consumed with kissing him until I could no longer breathe. A surprised yelp caught in my throat when I felt his cock sliding against my slit, head catching along my entrance.

“Fuck, yes,” I breathed into the kiss, breasts heaving with each shake intake.

As he entered me, My back arched, pushing my breasts forward into him. One of his hands tangled into my hair while the other slowly helped to seat me against him.

“Say my name,” he growled in my ear, pulling my head back.

I whimpered at the order before crying out his true name, exalting him like a prayer to god. It felt amazing to have him pumping inside of me, each thrust into my cunt leaving me breathless. We were both close to our respective ends, having both been so worked up from him being in my mouth.

My hips bucked against his as we worked each other, the hand tangled in my hair moving down my neck to grip. I slung my held forward with almost no control over my muscles, resting my forehead upon the clammy skin of his own.

I rode him with reckless abandon, keeping into him every time the head of his cock jabbed into the deepest part of me. Our hot breaths mixed in the small space between our open mouths.

“Fuck, keep doing that.” I cried into him. His hand had slivered its way to my front, squeezing only slightly while the other came to rest near my hip with its thumb flicking gently at my clit.

He moved us faster and I could feel something akin to a string inside of me going taut.

“Gonna cum.” I whimpered into him, lips barely skimming his own. “Eds, I’m gonna cum.”

At the sound of me calling out the new sweet nickname, he began to pound up into me faster, that string stretching to a thin thread ready to break.

“Let go little one, let go.” His voice was strained, as though he were also on the precipice of eminence pleasure.

I could hear the squelch of him entering me and pulling out over and over, the wetness he elicited in me was something only he could do. He turned me on so much that it had me soaking down my legs and onto his.

I could feel the tears bringing in my eyes as I began to let go, pushing myself over the ledge, letting the string snap from the pressure. My body convulsed in his lap as I rode out my high. He was also there with me, grunting as he came. Stick hot cum filling my cunt and spilling out around him as he lifted me up. I moaned, hating the feeling of being so full and then completely empty.

He laid me gently on my side, letting me catch my breath from something so sentence. He laid down beside me, wrapping his arms around my worn body. His larger hands came to cup my face. I couldn’t help but notice a glint in his eyes, something which made my stomach flip as he gave me the sweetest kiss.

“I, uh, I don’t know how to say this easily. Emotions have never been my forte.” He stumbled upon his words as he stared me down with his black eyes. “In my many years of being alive, I have never felt this way towards anyone. Angel, demon, or mortal, and then one day you summon me,” He huffs a smile, “a tiny insignificant mortal who knew little to nothing of the mess she was about to get caught up in. I had the intention of taking what I wanted and leaving but then I was called back to you, again and again, whether it has been by those miscreants who attacked you, you, or my own heart. I couldn’t stay away from you for long. It surprised me the day you told me you loved me. I had not been prepared for it, to see it with my own eyes and not have it hidden. I left you alone and for that I am sorry, but it took me some time to come to terms with how I feel.”

His thumbs caressed the smooth skin of my cheeks as he rambled on. My heart was beating so hard and so fast that I was beginning to think it would beat completely out of my chest. I was buzzing to hear what came next, to hear what I so desperately wanted him to tell me.

“I did not know what this feeling was for a long time but now I do.” He paused to take a deep shaky breath before continuing. “I love you.”

Although with his speech, I had been expecting him to say those words, it still surprised me to no end. I couldn’t contain my joy as I squealed happily, moving to cling to him. My lips peppered kiss after sweet kiss to his face. I could feel his cheeks heating up at the attention, something he definitely was not used to.

“I love you so, so, so much.” I rejoiced, hugging him to me tightly and rolling on top of him. His hair was feathered out on the bed and mine enclosed around us like a curtain. His eyes never once left mine as we just looked at one another. No words were needed now, I could feel everything he wanted to say radiating from his body and the way he touched me gently.

This was the happiest moment of my life

Eddie Taglist: @loveofmylife12@ellabellabus07@wickedwitchofwest@siriusstwelveyears@ameliakf13 @milly-louise @darkscrossfire @harrypotter-posts @dedeinspire @ccosmic-illusion @eddiesbirdie @castiels-gracex @luvwanda @whimsywisher @wool-hat7 @callsignthunder @corrodedhawkins @stefans-wife @wool-hat7 @bookfrog242 @hellv1ra@f4erietaless@kenzi-woycehoski@mandyjf @harrys-tittie @strangerthings1983fan @its-sam-allgood @dessmxsworld @hellfire1986baby @frogers @bxthxny01 @aprilmia @Ellalafrella @Caitlin-was-here @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog @heyhunniesslutformunsonhere @angelina_0191

Summoning Taglist: @alana4610 @ghostqueenofthedamned @simp2537 @sammararaven @akiratoro420 @my-malachai-stilinski @izhetttttt @raptorbait529 @e0509 @munsonxmayhem @yappydoo @boofy1998 @sleepy-bunnie @edsforehead @briasnow-blog @strangerthings1983fan @maximizedrhythms @needylilgal022 @nicolaj1978 @msgexymunson @evansgal @eddies-puppet @reincarnationoftheparty

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #demon eddie #demon eddie munson #female reader

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totkdaily · 5 months

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Day 80: Visions, and Friends Aplenty

It takes until morning, but I find the tear in the geoglyph on the hill above Lake Hyrule.

A vision. I see...

Ancient Hylians in darkness. Rauru at Sonia's grave. This is after that moment at the Blood Moon, then. The Demon King has risen, and they are at war.

Zelda visits the King. Her worry is plain on her face.

She mentions Ganondorf - that name. I'm struggling to understand her meaning - she says a secret stone did something to Ganondorf, whoever that is. But… Zelda's words suggest that Ganondorf, the Demon King and the creature below the castle are one and the same. I knew I was right about the Demon King and the creature. But who is Ganondorf? Is that who the Demon King was before?

I piece the visions together in my mind with difficulty - it's been months. But the man who became the Demon King - I've seen him before. He led the Gerudo when they tried to attack Hyrule. Is that Ganondorf? The name… I can only hope the connection to Calamity Ganon is a cruel accident.

Zelda is at the point of despair. My heart aches for her. Rauru dismisses her concerns, though he acknowledges that its his hubris that got them here. Why won't he listen to her? My Zelda.

I need to know more. I think there are four geoglyphs I haven't yet found. Which is easiest to reach? There should be one north east of Lookout Landing, if my map-making is any good. Could I spot it from the tower?

I land briefly on Hyrule Castle itself - there's a shrine. But no geoglyph I can see. Alright, plan B. I head to Tabantha Bridge Stable and from there south.

I scale a flat rock to get a better view - but I suddenly realise it's beneath my feet! And there's a balloon at the far end - Impa's here! She and Cado are right near the tear.

A vision. I see...

A pagoda by a lakeside. Zelda, Sonia and Rauru are taking tea - tears spring to my eyes as I see Zelda at peace, at rest.

Her eyes sparkle, as she talks of our time, or her powers, of me. Zelda. She wants to be able to have all the powers at her disposal - Sonia encourages her pursuit but points out that her own talents are far from insignificant. I am sorry that Sonia died. I am glad that Zelda knew her kindness for a time.

Every path I take leads to an empty pool, with Zelda no closer. Still, I must try.

I travel back to Central Hyrule, intending to head south by the towers to the Gerudo region - I think there is a geoglyph in the Highlands there.

Running across Hyrule Field feels like the old days. But then I hear voices - it's Hoz's crew! Looks like they're going monster hunting - I gear up and join them.

Hoz is grateful once we clear out the camp - I even get paid! He says they're heading to Fort Hateno next, and wonders about my sword - he's heard something of the Master Sword.

I'd almost forgotten about it. It's been in only one of my visions. Zelda must not have received it until after the Imprisoning War. What did she do with it then? But it was broken anyway. The time of the sword is over.

I gather the useful monster parts Hoz and his crew left behind, and look around for the tower I was aiming for - but then I spot the familiar purple light of Kilton's shop - now Koltin's - and before I know it I'm sprinting across the field in the dark to catch him. I must have so many gems since I last saw him.

Well, I have seven. But it's enough for him to give me a pair of trousers.

He's parked right outside Lookout Landing, so I run back and fetch a horse from Lester - Pumpkin will do well for this adventure, I think.

#totkdaily #day 80 #another big day - two visions a monster crew trip and Koltin!#totk #loz #zelda #legend of zelda

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sweetsaturnsky · 2 years

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Okay so this is something I have been discussing and talking about for a while and I want to share it here. It's over how Will's memories from season 2 have been affected and how that could play an important role in season 5.

This connects to birthdaygate and the idea that Vecna can control memories.

Pretty much, the idea is that every good memory that was used in Season 2 in order to help Will get out of his possession has become a tainted memory and I believe this is Vecna's doing.

*Side note that I will be saying the Vecna is who possessed Will in Season 2 because of evidence I have found that I believe to be true. If I find the post over why, I will link it*

Remember in Season 2 when Will is possessed and Joyce, Jonathan, and Mike are all trying to get him back. They know that at this point, they are talking to the shadow monster/vecna, who is in control of Will and are trying to bring him back.

Everything mentioned as a "good memory" that they are hoping brings him back is later in the series connecting to something bad.

Joyce mentions Will's birthday. In season 4, we see everyone forget his birthday. This can cause him to associate his birthday with the bad memory.

Jonathan mentions the day they built Castle Byers. Then, the next season in a moment of anger, Will destroys Castle Byers.

And finally, Mike mentions the first day of kindergarten and describes that becoming friends with Will was "the best thing (he's) ever done". Then, in season 4, Mike says that he feels his life started the day he found her in the woods. (a time when Will was missing)

When each of the characters said these things in season 2, remember that it was being said to both Will AND Vecna, who was possessing him at this time.

Now, we know that memories play a big role in the show. Specifically, happy memories. We first see them used here, in season two, then again in season three when Eleven went into Billy's mind, he was in a happy memory with his mother and in season 4, Max hides in good memories in order to hide from Vecna. Also in season 4, we learn that El can't remember Henry or what all happened at the lab. Her journey is over her remembering such. *these will all be further touched on*

Each of these instances are telling us that memories ARE an important part of the story.

In season 2, the telling of the memories helps part of Will come back. When they begin reminding him of his good memories, he starts to tap morse code. Part of Will escaped Vecna's control. This is how they helped him eventually escape his possession.

Let's go back to season 3 and Billy being controlled by Vecna.

Eleven piggybacks into Billy's mind in the show and during this, we see him in a good memory with his mother, at the beach.

Then, as El is watching the scene in front of her, the memory changes into a bad one where Billy's dad is yelling at him.

The normal sky that we see before turns dark and red, similar to the clouds in the upside down in season 4. So, you could say that this is Billy running away from a bad memory towards the Upside Down.

Unlike Will, Billy didn't have people reminding him of the good memories to keep him going. And all of the good memories he was trying to use to escape, like the beach one with his mom, led to him remembering bad ones with his dad.

Now, lets go to season 4, specifically with Max in season 4. When Max almost dies during the Running Up The Hill scene, she uses good memories to get out of the UD.

Those good memories AND the song helped her escape him the first time.

The second time, in the Creel House, when El piggybacks into Max’s mind, she’s in a memory from when she was younger.

El is standing on a bridge, watching. We see her turn around and this is what we see.

The same red look we see with Billy when his memories went bad. And now, we see what happened to both of them when the red cloud appeared in their memories.

Both of them have now been attacked and harmed by Vecna, one is dead and the other is so badly injured, we don't know what will happen to her.

Now let’s talk about Eleven and her memories before we conclude and talk about how this connects to Will and the possibility of what will happen in season 5.

We know that a big part of El’s plot line in Season 4 was Papa getting her to remember everything that happened in order for her to get her powers again.

Papa knows that Vecna is the cause of all of this. When he is explaining this to Eleven, he says this.

Vecna took El’s memories and abilities. When she grained those memories back, she gained her powers back.

But how does this connect to Will?

Well, we now know that Will’s memories have negative memories attached to them. These memories were the ones that helped part of him escape possession in season 2 but now, they may not be good enough to do it again.

If Will gets possessed or trapped again with Vecna, he may not be able to use his good memories to escape anymore. He may be stuck and Vecna knows this.

#stranger things #stranger things season 5 #will byers #max mayfield #eleven #eleven hopper #billy hargrove #season 5 predictions #birthdaygate #will byer centric #st vecna #will's memories #the upside down #i dont even know #memorygate

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hanahaki-disease · 9 months

Text

Haven’t I Given Enough?

A Hermit! Tommy HC x DSMP xover

Chapter 14 | “How do you owe the World? How do you own Disorder?”

Summary: Tommy doesn’t know what he did to deserve this, to have someone fight for him, but at what cost? Lines had begun to be drawn in the sand by people he barely even knew.

Word count: 2718

Fic notes: Title is from “Toxicity” by System of a Down’s

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“What now?” Tommy asked as they stepped outside the residential tower of Pearl’s base. Beneath his foot, the gravel crunched with every step and the smell of fresh flowers dotted the place eased his nerves. It was a lot of information to learn in a short period, not including learning that his mother was alive or that his uncle and mother were watchers. Tommy felt like he needed time to process everything. To fully grasp the severity of his mother’s past and to try and predict any possible bad endings this world could come to. “Where do we go from here?”

“We go one day at a time,” Pearl answered from beside him, in her hands, she had a small bag of wildflower seeds. Now and then, she would take a bit out of the bag and scatter them along the mossy grass surrounding them, carefully picking the spots she thought could use a bit more detail. “I don’t expect you to act a certain way around me, nor do I expect any form of affection just yet. We’re going at your pace Tommy, don’t think you need to rush things if they make you uncomfortable.” Tommy felt his mother tousled his hair a bit. “I am perfectly fine just talking to you if that’s what you wish.”

Tommy gave a silent nod as they continued the tour of the base. It was incredible, he thought. Everything here was a strange and beautiful kind of foreign that he didn’t understand. Plants that never existed outside the Hermitcraft server sprang to life whenever they got near, some opened their petals from above them, letting their spores float around them and taking root in the ground. If someone had told him that this place was an alien settlement from Jupiter, Tommy would believe it, because it’s pretty hard to believe that his mother was the one to make all of this.

Across the cavern, a shimmering castle of sorts stood high atop the hill. The spires reached into the sky, leaving streaks in the clouds, and the foundations dug into the earth below it. Polished quartz glinted and the prismarine twinkled multicolored in the sun, giving the castle an ethereal kind of vibe. It was beautiful. Right below the castle was a kind of intimidating stronghold of deepslate and Blackstone, the copper brought his attention to the gate at the front.

“That is my friend Impulse’s base,” Pearl said and led him down the winding paths to the matching copper and Blackstone bridge that connected the two sides of the gorge. “He’s doing a whole dwarf thing this season and he’s taking on an ambitious project of excavating the mountain on the inside.”

“It’s not as ambitious as rebuilding a whole new biome from scratch,” Tommy nearly jumped at the sudden voice. Behind him was an average-sized man, a bit on the heavier side but he made it work, dressed in shades of black, dark brown, and yellow. His smile was easy to see in the carefully tended beard that jingled from all his little gold accessories braided in. “Hi, I’m Impulse, you must be Tommy, right? I met up with Scar earlier and he told me about you.”

Tommy shook the dwarf’s hand and gazed in wonder at the tour of the base. “I’m still working on the ceiling, the stone and dirt and stuff are coming down soon, but before that, I need to finish the hole.” Below the center platform, an almost empty hole stretched far into the earth. How long had this taken him? It couldn’t have been years, Tommy thinks, they move every other year or so. “This vine right here takes you up to Gem’s base, I’m also working on a better way to her pace that isn’t crimson vines.”

“Pearl! Pearl!” Flying in from the open gate, a woman–petite and thin with large branching antlers atop her head–stumbled onto the platform out of breath and worried. “I think there are some hermits who think Tommy is a glitched player! We need to talk to Xisuma or something.”

“What?” Tommy looked at the mystery lady.

“I overheard Jevin talk about a meeting to discuss what to do about Tommy,” She looked between the Impulse and Pearl. “We need to do something, gather everyone who knows about you and see if there’s a way to explain the truth to them.”

“We need to tell Doc then,” Tommy spoke up. “I don’t think going to the admin would help, something tells me he’s pretty upset about the lies Uncle G kept from him.” The three adults looked at the teen, each one agreeing with him. “I don’t have a communicator, so one of you is gonna have to tell him.”

Tommy knew that peace wasn’t going to last forever, he of all people should know that, but he didn’t know that trouble had already caught up with him. It wasn’t even an hour ago that he and his mother reunited, and here he was, standing once again in the middle of a potential war. He hopes that no one dies because of him.

–

From the bottom of the perimeter, the rest of the world faded from sight, only the large, imposing walls of the giant square-shaped hole could be seen. The bedrock beneath his feet was cold, even with his shoes on. Tommy could feel the never-ending cold from the void, rippling through the immovable blocks, as if it was trying to break it and swallow him whole. Around him, the walls faded into the familiar white blur that happens when things get too far to see, letting him know how big the giant hole was.

They had chosen the bottom of the perimeter to meet up for a few reasons. One, if they built a secret meeting room in one of the walls, it’d be impossible to see unless you were intentionally looking for it. Two, if they were to stand in the middle, those who were flying above or standing on the edges couldn’t hear them. And three, the Perimeter would be the last place people would look if there was a meeting of some kind.

Tommy looked around at the small group that gathered, each of them was there to protect him, to keep him safe from those they considered friends and family. On a small stage were Doc, Xisuma, Grian, and his mother. The admin wore a different helmet than the other one he’s seen, it was more like a face mask than a helmet. The sides stretched to only the edge of his face where two thick bands wrapped around the back of his head, securing it in place. He seemed tense, Tommy thought, a stark difference from the easy-going, and calm admin he’d come to know. (He’s still wary of him, no matter how comfortable he allows himself to be with him.)

Among the small crowd were the other two “Soup Group” members, as his mother called the trio, Impulse and the ginger woman–whom Tommy now knows her name as Gem. Iskall, Scar, and Stress stood to the left of him. Iskall’s arms were crossed as he listened intently to what the admin and Doc were talking about, Scar held a pen and notebook in his hands, taking down notes he deemed important. And though Tommy wasn’t the best when it came to literature, some words were misspelled and dotted in the paragraphs now and then. Stress kept her hand on his back, rubbing circles in the hopes that it would calm Tommy down. And it was working, but the looming anxiety returned when she stopped and paid attention to Xisuma.

There were even people there that Tommy hadn’t met, but were willing to protect him. One guy was tall, not as tall as Xisuma or Doc, but he still had some height to him. His hair was a pristine shade of white with some bits of light gray dotted in, a navy-colored mask covered the lower half of his face as he listened intently to what Grian was saying. Sometimes he would lower his head and whisper something to the guy next to him. The other man was shorter than the first, but so were a lot of people compared to Stretch, Tommy thought. He wore a green fuzzy cloak that bunched at the floor as if it was too long for him, it wrapped around him and just barely covered the white shirt and dark jeans underneath.

A total of ten people showed up to the meeting. Twelve people were willing to hurt their family if things went bad for a kid they barely knew.

“Unfortunately, we don’t know how many people are a part of them,” Doc said. “We know for sure that Cub and Wels are the ones who started it, how they found out about Tommy, we still don’t know, but we know that they think Tommy is a glitched player. We must assume that they’ll do anything to get him off the server.”

“By ‘do anything’ what are you implying Doc?” The white-haired guy spoke up. “Are you saying that Wels would kill the kid to keep us safe? Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh for both the kid and Wels?”

“Wels would because of how he lost his home world,” Grian answered. “I was there when it happened. A glitched player caused the downfall of his world and he almost died with it. Wels wouldn’t want Hermitcraft to end the same way, and so he’d do whatever he thinks is best to protect us.”

Tommy looked around at the group, how could they all be ready to fight for him? What did the admin promise them upon their victory? Wars had been started for less than what he was worth, Tommy knows that for sure, but what was the gain they would have? It confused the poor kid.

Most of his life had been filled with fighting against an enemy whose values and morals were vastly different than his, and usually, that was enough to justify the fight. Their ideas and promises had fallen through and Tommy was caught on the short end of the stick, forced to pick a side and lead troops against the other side. But here, where the whole server was a family, and corruption between them hadn’t torn them apart, Tommy was placed on one side and forced to fight. To fight for himself. (Which he doesn’t think is a good reason to fight.)

“So what’s the plan?” Iskall asked. It seemed like that was the only question left unanswered in the impromptu meeting of Tommy-Protection-Squad. “Do we wait for them to figure out where Tommy is and fight or?”

Xisuma shook his head, “We need to find out how many people believe in Wels and Cub’s agenda, from there we try to make peace with them by introducing Tommy to them. Hopefully, like that, they’ll see that Tommy isn’t a threat.”

“Hey! I can be a threat if I want to!” Tommy pointed at the admin. “And what if that doesn’t work and they try to kill me, eh? What then?”

“Then we fight,” He answered. “You’re a hermit now Tommy, and hermits protect each other. But as of right now, Tommy cannot be left unattended in case they try to hurt him. I have given you all schedules for when it’s your turn to be with Tommy.” Beside the teen, Stress pulled out her paper, names and times were written in order from breakfast to bedtime. His short time of freedom had come to an end. “I’m sorry that you can’t continue to work on your bases for extended periods now, but just think of this as a way to meet our newest hermit!”

The others around him chuckled and sent amusing glances toward him before they took off in different directions; which left Tommy feeling as if he was nothing but a toy being passed around in school. He understood that it was the best way to keep him safe, to make sure the hermits who wanted to hurt him didn’t get a chance, yet he couldn’t help feeling hurt that Xisuma didn’t ask him if it was alright.

He hadn’t known the admin for long, still wary of him especially now that tensions were high between him and Grian, as well as whatever happened with his helmet to make him use a mask instead. But Tommy believed that Xisuma was a better admin than Dream had been. So far the man had yet to ask him for favors, hadn’t yet asked him to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, but there was still something about him that made Tommy shift in place when he glanced at Grian before he took off.

“Come on, Toms,” Grian hopped off the miniature stage and walked up to him, Pearl beside him. “It seems I have the first watch, you pick where we go.”

“We’re going to church prime.” Nodding his head, Grian grabbed Tommy’s hands and flew him up to the closest nether portal, hoping no one was on the other side when they went through.

–

The sun had begun to set behind them when they left the portal at Stress’s base. Nothing had changed much from when Tommy took up residence in her base, the chest monster was the same as it had been. Shulkers scattered the stone and andesite floors, items left hanging out of the chest and in piles around the wall of storage. Grass had begun to creep its way into the castle, small darts of green cracking through the gray like spiderwebs.

“Stress said you came here through her pond,” Grian asked. The two hadn’t spoken since they left Doc’s perimeter, finding silence better for their awkwardness.

“Yeah,” Tommy led him to it, the two-block deep water feature was as unassuming as ever. Small rocks lined the edges and kept most of the water in the pond and mobs from falling in, at the other end was a little waterfall that trickled softly into the larger body. Little fish took their time to bob and weave through the decorational–and mostly functional–plants that dotted the small area. “Apparently, I had spawned inside the dirt blocks at the bottom of the pond and was drowning when she and Iskall came to help. When they tried to pull me out, they said that there were like magic claws that were trying to pull me back.”

“Magic claws?” Grian stepped closer to the pond. The shorter blond man could feel the lingering magic that had transported Tommy from his other server, it was a cold magic, one he knew all too well. “Whoever did this was a watcher and they did this for a reason.”

“How can you tell?” Tommy asked.

“The magic used here was used by watchers of Lady Death, their magic has like a special signature to them,” Grian explained. “It’s different than Lady Irene’s just slightly, but enough to differentiate the two. But the bigger questions are who and why?”

“Which reminds me!” Tommy pointed to his uncle. “You have some explaining to do! Mum already told me her story, and now I want to know yours, bitch! I have a right to know.”

Sighing, Grian dusted off his pants before looking at his nephew. “Alright. Let’s go inside somewhere before the mobs start spawning.”

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Ok listen…in my defense, I just kept writing and I forgot to actually publish what I was writing. Buuuut on the bright side I have a few chapters already lined up and ready to go, I might upload those soon but who knows!

Thank you so much for reading! Critique and comments are welcome!

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#hermitcraft #hermit!tommy au #dsmp fic #hc x dsmp #grian #tommyinnit #stressmonster101 #docm77 #watcher! grian #pearlescentmoon #hc xisuma #xelqua #impulsesv #geminitay #ethoslab #bdubbleo100

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karama9 · 3 days

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Hyrule Geography in All That Hurts Us

I'm going to spare you a mangled map - I am not good at editing pictures.

But, basically, I'm using the BotW map, except:

More room for settlements because although BotW didn't do the old RPG game thing and have a tile on the map that expanded into a town when you walked over it, it also, quite sensibly, didn't waste a ton of real estate on each set of ruins. Even Castle Town is a pretty small town. For All That Hurts Us, I'm allowing a lot of towns and villages and letting them be bigger, and just assuming the map is stretched as needed. Maritta is a good example: in BotW, you will find the Maritta Exchange Ruins East of Ludfos bog, just under Tanagar Canyon. In All That Hurts Us, there is a town there called Maritta, but it's bigger than the ruins (the ruins are just a few buildings). Castle Town is also way bigger, big enough to have several distinct neighborhoods.

I'm assuming the Hyrule Rauru and Sonia founded was not the first one, but occurred after all the games except BotW. This was hinted to be a possibility by the Zelda team, and it's my preferred scenario. Therefore, much like in the Hyrules of Ocarina of Time and every other games prior to BotW, there are no Zonai ruins.

The Tingle Islands have some land closer to the Ocean than in the games, allowing for a bit more living and farming space, but are still very, very hilly. They're not called the Tingle Islands (see below for their current name).

The Great Plateau and Castle Town are in pretty much the same spot, not necessarily exactly in the case of the Castle - it's not hiding Ganondorf after all since this is pre-Zonai - but close enough. It's mentionned that there are at least two even older castle towns and castle ruins buried under the plateau, and that the current one is also built atop at least one older one. The idea is that the capital tends to switch back and forth.

Some areas, like the Tingle Islands, are different due to thousands of years having passed and geography naturally evolving with erosion and people's actions. For instance, there is still a Goron City on Death Mountain but it's the one from Ocarina of time, expanded, rather than a surface village like in BotW. Goron City is acknowledged to have been deserted for periods of time through history (because I want to be consistent with the fact there are no Gorons in A Link to the Past because I am just like that).

I haven't actually decided where the Lost Woods were. I haven't needed to pin them down so far so I'm leaving it open but they currently include the scant ruins of the old Forest Temple. The assumption, and that's in the text as well, is that they move when the newest Deku Tree sprouts in a new location.

The Sea Folks were given land that was not otherwise used and was widely considered undesirable. Settlements and their rough locations are:

Given, small village, on what's called the "Tingle Islands" in BotW. The main island, with the bridge to the mainland, is the northernmost one and some of the islands are still connected that aren't by the time of BotW.

Beginning is the biggest Sea Folks settlement, qualifies as a small town rather than a village. It's located in the marshy part of Hyrule fields, with man made islands and floating farm fields.

Haven is in the North Western part of Tabantha

Dawn is towards the south of the East Coast, blocked by the sea on one side and cliffs on the other. I'm currently thinking Kitano Bay.

Hope is on the hills forming the western border to Gerudo desert, overlooking the Oseira Plains.

There are two more, Life and a so far unnamed one. I haven't settled on their locations yet.

The Sea Folks gave their settlements names showing their gratitude for being given a chance at life in Hyrule after they barely escaped complete genocide in their former home.

#All That Hurts Us #Geography Lesson

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briarcrawford · 1 year

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"Large Fish Market" by Jan Brueghel the Elder(1603) Status: Public Domain

Little details I see that might be helpful for bringing life to your stories if you are writing a similar landscape:

Omg so many people. They are all clothed depending on their social class.

A man struggles to put the lid over a basket of fish

A tired-looking old man bringing in new fish in a basket holds it by two handles over both his shoulders

A group of people gather around the fish, perhaps bartering

People are fishing with a net, while looking up at the sky. There are dark clouds growing, so perhaps they are trying to judge the coming weather

In the distance, there is a small island with a windmill (for flour) with several boats around it. The island is connected to a castle.

The castle has a bridge with a building on it. This may be for guards or a toll-man.

A city stretches along the waters edge, but the surrounding hills are nearly bare in comparison.

A man is repairing or building a boat

Down the hill, there are fish in barrels of water, and people point out what ones they want. Below that at the stalls, it looks like they are either selling cuts of meat, or they process the meat for the people after buying

#Writing Fantasy #WritingFantasy #Fantasywriters #fantasywriter #wrtiblr #write #fantasy #art #medieval #painting #worldbuilding #world building #historical art #historicalart

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foundtherightwords · 2 years

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The Road Forgotten - Chapter 4

Pairing: Arthur Havisham (Dickensian) x OFC

A/N: I made Arthur bisexual and paired him with a female character in this. I know some writers have gotten flack for pairing Arthur with a female character (or reader), so if it's not your cup of tea, please walk away.

This is mostly based on the events of "Dickensian", but I've also incorporated some elements and characters from "Great Expectations". Most notably, Satis House is in Kent (as in the book) instead of in London.

Summary: A few years after his plan to swindle his sister ended in tragedy, Arthur Havisham is a shadow of a man, living in guilt and fear. When Elsie Bradford, a young woman also wronged by Compeyson, enlists Arthur's help to hunt down his former partner-in-crime, Arthur must face his demons and other strange, new feelings, to redeem himself.

Warnings: slow burn, angst, guilt, revenge, psychological trauma, mention of prostitution, mention of suicide/suicide ideations, some violence, a bit of smut

Chapter word count: 3.7k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Damn the woman, Arthur cursed inwardly while trailing after Miss Bradford and Wemmick toward Walworth. Why had he let her talk him into this? The walk from Little Britain wasn't particularly far, just under three miles, but his legs, unaccustomed to exercise, were still sore after the other day's walk in the Surrey Hills. It didn't help that he was constantly worried about what secret the papers in Wemmick's possessions might reveal to Miss Bradford. Arthur didn't know why, but the thought that those green eyes would no longer look at him with trust and sympathy filled him with despair. Perhaps it had been so long since he had the good opinion of another person, and he wanted to hold on to hers, no matter by what means. He would have to find a way to look at those papers before she did. So he clenched his teeth and trudged on.

The further they went from the office, the more animated Wemmick's wooden face became, the more sprightly his steps. Finally, they arrived in Walworth, a dull collection of lanes, ditches, and gardens, with dull wooden cottages peeping out from behind the trees. Wemmick's house, however, stood out. It might be small, tiny even, but it certainly wasn't dull. For a start, there was a battery mounted with guns on the top of the house, which, upon closer inspection, turned out to have been cut out and painted, like the scenery on a stage.

"My own doing," Wemmick said proudly. "Looks pretty, don't it?"

Miss Bradford made the appropriate sound of commendation.

There was a flagstaff at the front, and the house was accessed by a drawbridge, an actual drawbridge spanning an actual moat, which again Wemmick claimed to be his own work. Miss Bradford clapped her hands together upon seeing it. "So when you say this is your 'castle', you really mean a castle!" she exclaimed.

"Indeed, ma'am," replied Wemmick, proud as a peacock. "It is my private domain, with which the office had no connection. That is why I made this bridge here—once I have crossed it, I hoist it up, and leave the office behind me completely." This he immediately demonstrated, taking obvious relish in the act.

"All you need is a pair of swans!" Miss Bradford said, laughing.

Her delight and Wemmick's pride were strangely infectious. At first, Arthur had thought the whole thing rather quaint and ridiculous, but upon seeing how Miss Bradford was enjoying it and how proud Wemmick was of having created the "castle", Arthur's worry about the papers temporarily vanished. He started to see the beauty in it as well, from the tiny Gothic windows and doors of the castle, to the winding path leading to a bower on the bank of an ornamental lake complete with a fountain (constructed by Wemmick himself, of course), to the trim little vegetable garden in the back, which also housed a pig and some fowls and rabbits.

"You don't object to keeping the aged company while I search for your papers, do you, sir? Ma'am?" Wemmick said once they had completed the tour of the castle's exterior. They shook their heads, though Arthur caught Miss Bradford's amused look and had to smile in return.

The "aged" turned out to be Wemmick's father, a cheerful old man whose joviality was in no way diminished by his deafness; if anything, he was all the more cheerful for it.

"Here's Mr. Havisham and Miss Bradford, aged parent," said Wemmick, leading them to where the old man sat by the fire. "He can't hear you," he added to Arthur, "but just nod away at him, sir, he likes that."

And so Arthur found himself listening to the old man talk enthusiastically about his son, about all that the hard work Wemmick had done to turn the place into such a pleasure ground, and about how well Wemmick took care of him. His pride in Wemmick was touching. "Do you two have children?" he asked, obviously mistaking them for a couple. They turned to each other with an embarrassed laugh. Miss Bradford shook her head, which the old man took as a gesture of dismissal. He became so bewildered that Arthur took pity on him and started nodding as vigorously as he could. Arthur saw Miss Bradford widen her eyes at him, a blush darkening the olive complexion of her cheeks, but he didn't mind. They were likely never to see the old man again, so what was the harm in humoring him? Seeing Arthur's nods, the Aged's face spread into a pleased smile. "Ah, children can be such a blessing," he said. "Like my John."

Presently Wemmick returned, bearing an old envelope, gone yellow with age. "Here it is," he announced, drawing some papers out of the envelope and scanning them. "Well, this Compeyson fellow had certainly been busy... There's a nasty business in Hampshire with a man named Bradford..." Wemmick paused, and it frightened Arthur to see how pale Miss Bradford had gone. "Oh, I do beg your pardon, ma'am," Wemmick said apologetically. "Was he your—?"

"My father," Miss Bradford managed to say.

"Oh. I am so sorry, ma'am."

Miss Bradford didn't reply, but Arthur could see that her gloved hand had started to move again with a twitchy, nervous motion, twisting at the buckle of her belt. Wemmick seemed close to tears with remorse. Arthur seized the opportunity to snatch the papers out of his hand and surreptitiously sequestered a few pages into his pocket. He then turned to Miss Bradford with a triumphant smile. "I may have something," he said.

"What?" She stood up, and though her face was still deathly white, she took the paper that he gave her with a steady hand.

"An address in Brentford," he said, pointing it out to her. "A house in the name of a Mrs. Sally Compeyson. His wife."

***

Though Wemmick tried to persuade them to stay for supper with him and the Aged, Arthur and Miss Bradford politely declined. They had far too much to discuss and neither had an appetite. After Wemmick had lowered the bridge for them and then hoisted it up again, and they made their way through the gardens of Walworth, back to Miss Bradford's lodgings, Arthur was struck by another thought.

"He is a fortunate man," he said.

"Who, the Aged?" asked Miss Bradford.

"No. Well, yes, the Aged is indeed fortunate. But I was thinking more of Wemmick. He is content with his life."

"And he has a doting father," Miss Bradford said, still thinking of the Aged. Arthur said nothing. "What was your father like, Mr. Havisham?" she asked.

Arthur was glad that dusk was falling, because it meant she could not see how his face had contorted at the thought of his father. He wished he could hate the man, yet even now, after years of neglect and rejection, after his father had been long dead, he was still seeking his approval. Wasn't that why he was trampling over half of London, searching for a dangerous criminal who had once pushed him to the brink of death?

"My father was a... hard man," he managed. "Hard to know. Hard to love." And then, because he found Miss Bradford's silence strangely comforting, it all came out in a rush. "I didn't know why he married my mother. She was his cook. Certainly there was no love between them. Perhaps he merely didn't want his son to be a bastard. If only he had let me stay a bastard. My life would have been so much simpler." There would have been none of the expectation to be a Havisham, none of the disappointment, and none of the mistakes. And who knew? He could have had some education and found a good job, become someone like Wemmick, and been content.

"I'm sorry," Miss Bradford said softly.

Arthur turned to her, both taken aback and grateful. Most people would've said he was foolish to wish to remain a bastard.

"That's why I said Wemmick is a fortunate man," he continued. "Because he knows exactly who he is and what he wants. So few of us have such clarity in life." Arthur was surprised at himself. He wasn't the type prone to philosophical musings, but the visit to Wemmick's house had left a strong impression on him. It had been so long since he saw anything other than his filthy rooms in St. Giles and the stinking interior of the Three Cripples, and he found it quite mind-boggling that there were people out there, blithely going about their everyday lives without a care in the world, without being haunted by the ghosts of the past, present, and future. He envied them.

"Well," Miss Bradford said, "I know who I am and what I want as well, but you wouldn't say I'm content, would you?"

"It is because you don't have what you want yet."

She appeared to be thinking about it. "I suppose that is true. Once I kill Compeyson, I would be content."

Those words left behind a dreadful echo, sounding all the more terrible from the matter-of-fact way they were uttered. It didn't seem quite real, the two of them walking down this empty road amongst these peaceful gardens and houses, plotting to kill a man, while people were having supper behind those doors. Arthur wondered why he didn't feel more horrified. Yes, Compeyson was an evil man, but did that justify their actions?

"How are you going to kill him?" Arthur asked, amazed that he could speak so calmly about it.

"My father's pistol," she said. "The one he used to—" She cleared her throat. In the dusk, all he could see were the tears gleaming in her eyes, like stars. "A fitting choice, I should think."

"But what if you... got caught?"

"You need not worry," she said, mistaking his meaning. "I shall take the blame. Nothing will be attached to you."

"No, no, I mean, what would happen to you?"

"Why should you care?" she asked.

Arthur didn't know it himself. She was a stranger to him. He only knew that he didn't want to see another person hurt by Compeyson, whether directly or indirectly.

When he didn't answer, Miss Bradford said with a shrug, "I'd dance the hangman's jig, I suppose."

Now he did feel horrified, at her offhand remark. "You're willing to die?"

"What else do I have to live for? My sister can't even hear my name without going into hysterics. I've made sure she's taken care of. This is it for me."

Arthur felt a strange surge of admiration mixed with pity. He wished he could be so certain about what he wanted. Yet the last time he wanted something that badly, it had ended in the destruction of two lives, including his own. The line between desire and obsession was a thin one.

"And if you manage to walk free?" he asked.

She glanced at him, then took her bonnet off so she could take a better look at his face. Without its cover, she looked strangely vulnerable and childlike, a far cry from the image of an avenging fury that he'd conjured up in his mind.

"I don't know," she said. "What about you? What are you going to do once this is over?"

Arthur stopped in his track. He hadn't thought about it, and found himself repeating Miss Bradford's words, "I don't know." Perhaps he would do nothing. Go back to the Three Cripples and hope a kindly stranger would buy him a drink. For the first time, it struck him how pathetic that sounded.

Miss Bradford stopped as well. Silence stretched between them as they gazed upon each other, sensing rather than seeing each other in the gathering dark.

"Perhaps we could build our own castles," eventually he said.

He could no longer see her face clearly in the gloom, but he thought the corner of her lips lifted slightly as she answered, "Perhaps." She put her bonnet over her head again, leaving the ribbons untied.

They continued their walk in silence, while her loose ribbons danced playfully on a spring breeze, occasionally touching his shoulder.

***

They took a hackney cab to Brentford the next day. As the cab rolled down the river, the city started to recede. Soot-stained buildings were swapped for tall trees covered with new leaves and white sails flowing on the water, the permanent shroud of smog was lifted to show a blue, clear sky, and the shouts and curses of the cabmen and day laborers were replaced by the busy, cheerful calls of the fishermen and bargemen on the canal. Arthur opened the cab's window to let the warm air flow in. In the distance, the roof of the glasshouse of Kew Gardens was just visible above the treetops, like a mirage.

"My father used to take us there when we were little," he said, nodding toward the glasshouse. "One of the few happy memories of my childhood."

"Who's we?" Miss Bradford said, and Arthur realized he'd said too much.

"Oh, just me and... my cousins, the Pockets," he stammered. Miss Bradford turned to the window again, taking in the green trees, the peaceful canal, and the prosperous houses.

"Does it strike you as unfair," she said, "that Compeyson gets to live in a place like this while we are mired in the filth and noises of the city?"

"We don't know that he is here."

"Have you ever met his wife?"

"Just once." He hadn't even known Compeyson was married at that point.

"What was she like?"

"I only saw her briefly." And he prayed she wouldn't remember him. "But I can say that was the first, and only time, I ever saw Compeyson's feathers ruffled."

Miss Bradford leaned back in her seat with a thoughtful look. She seemed more subdued that morning, more nervous than he'd ever seen her. She kept looking out the window, scanning the road up and down and even behind them, but when he asked what she was searching for, she only shook her head and pressed her lips together more sternly.

At Arthur's instruction, the cab dropped them off a distance from the address. They had agreed not to confront the woman right away, but to keep an eye on the house for a while until they could be sure she still lived there—and whether she lived alone or with someone else. The house was on a side road off of the High Street, so they found a coffeehouse at a corner across from the turn, where they could see the comings and goings of the inhabitants inside without attracting attention to themselves. The house was not big, two storeys and an attic, but very neat and trim, with bright red geraniums blooming in boxes at the sash windows, matching the red front door and contrasting nicely with the whitewashed brick walls. One of the windows was raised slightly, and a corner of a lace curtain peeped out, swaying in the wind. It did not look like the place that harbored a criminal.

They ordered their coffees and sat near the window, where the red door of the house was clearly visible. Miss Bradford, Arthur noticed, had chosen to sit a little further back.

"Is something the matter?" he asked, watching her.

She chewed her lip, her hands back at their tic, picking the currants out of the bun in front of her. "Have you noticed any strangers around?" she said.

"If they are strangers, why would I notice them?" he asked reasonably.

"No, I mean the same strangers that keep turning up."

Her fear was contagious. Arthur suddenly felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, and he automatically turned to look at the door, expecting to find someone there watching. But there was no one.

"You don't... you don't think Compeyson has gotten wind of our search and is coming after us, do you?" he said.

"You know him better than I do, Mr. Havisham. Is he capable of something like this?"

The more accurate question would be, what Compeyson was not capable of, but Arthur knew what she was asking. Compeyson was a confidence artist, not a thug. He prided himself on manipulating people, only resorting to physical threats when absolutely necessary. Arthur told Miss Bradford as much, which seemed to relax her a little. She took a sip of her coffee, studying him over the rim of her cup with those cool green eyes.

"If I may, Mr. Havisham," she began, "were you and Compeyson ever—?"

Her meaning was instantly clear. Arthur felt his cheeks burn. "No!" he exclaimed, indignant. "Never! How could you even..."

Miss Bradford raises her hands in a placating gesture. "Forgive my prying," she said. "I was simply thinking that perhaps we might have overlooked something."

"Compeyson never becomes intimate with another person unless there is something to be gained from it," Arthur said grimly. "He had... other uses of me." He would've died before admitting that there once had been a moment, a moment of stupidity and madness, when he'd thought of Compeyson in that way, but that was before he'd realized how evil the man really was.

They watched the house all morning. The red door remained closed. No one came or went. They walked to the lane that ran along the back of the house, but it was shielded by a high wall and a solid gate, which gave them no other view. The neighbors confirmed that a woman by the name of Mrs. Compeyson lived there but said that she kept herself to herself. There used to be a Mr. Compeyson, but no one had seen him around for a long time. That was all the information they could glean.

Finally, in the afternoon, the door opened, and Sally Compeyson walked out, carrying a basket. They decided there was nothing to it but to waylay her on the way back and speak to her, even at the risk of alerting Compeyson to their search. Arthur let Miss Bradford take the lead. He had only seen Sally Compeyson once, five years ago, but who knew what Compeyson might have told her.

Half an hour later and Sally returned, a full basket in the crook of her arm. Arthur's memory of her was a fairly attractive young woman, if common-looking, and rather shrill in her manner and speeches. There was no trace of her in the woman walking toward them. Her face was puffy, there were two deep lines on either side of her nose that gave her a pinched, discontented look, and her mouth was pursed into a harsh line. With a pang, Arthur realized here was one of Compeyson's victims as well.

"Mrs. Compeyson?" Miss Bradford said, before Sally reached the front door.

Sally's pale blue eyes stared at them suspiciously.

"'oo are you and wot'd you want?" she said. At least her sharp tongue was still intact.

Miss Bradford, wisely, chose not to state their names. "We're here to ask about your husband," she said.

There was a brief flicker in those eyes—of what? Fear? Anger? Pain?—then gone again, as quickly as it had come.

"My Meriwether? 'aven't seen 'air nor 'ide of 'im these past six months," she said.

Miss Bradford gave Arthur an excited look. At last, here was someone who had seen Compeyson more recently. "Could you tell us where he's gone?"

"Don't know, don't care," Sally said dismissively. "'e made a pot of money off of that rich fool, what was 'is name? Havelock? Haversham?"—here Arthur took a surreptitious step back and tried to turn his face away, but Sally was too busy ranting and raving about her husband to pay attention—"But 'e betted and gambled it all away and left me stuck 'ere trying to make ends meet..."

Again, Miss Bradford and Arthur's eyes met. Judging by the appearance of the house and that basket full of food, Sally couldn't be as bad off as she claimed.

"So I kicked 'im out," she concluded. "I told 'im to get 'is no-good mug out of my sight, or I'd give 'im up to 'is creditors. Ever since 'e's gone, I can finally get some rest, so I'll thank ye not to darken my doorstep by mentioning 'im again!" With that, she went inside and slammed the door in their faces.

Miss Bradford turned to Arthur, frustration etched across her face.

"Could he have gone abroad, do you think?" she asked, as they walked back toward the High Street to catch a hackney back to the city. "Or... what if he has died?"

Arthur hadn't thought of that. It had been five years. A lot of things could happen in five years. "What would you do if he's dead?" he asked.

"Go and spit on his grave," said Miss Bradford savagely. "But if he is still alive, I don't care where he is. I would find him. He could've gone to the Moon and I would find him."

He had no doubt she would, but it didn't change the fact that their best lead had amounted to nothing. As they stood on the street corner, once again at a loss, a small boy suddenly ran up to them and put a note into Arthur's hand.

"What's this?" he asked, grabbing the boy's shirt to stop him from running off.

"A gentleman asked me to give it to you, sir," the boy said and wriggled out of Arthur's grasp before he could ask another question. How strange. Boys who acted as message-bearers in London couldn't be beaten off until they'd had a tip, while this one couldn't wait to get away.

Arthur and Miss Bradford put their heads together to read the note. It took them a while to decipher the chicken scratch, which said, "If it is Compeyson ye want to know about, meet me by the Parade Ring at the Epsom Oaks."

Chapter 5

#arthur havisham #dickensian #arthur havisham fic #arthur havisham x ofc #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn

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grandmaster-anne · 2 years

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Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence: The difference for me, personally, was I was determined to stay in the Navy and I was able to do that. That gave me a career in addition to supporting my wife for many years.

By Robert Hardman | Published 17 August 2019

There has always been an other-worldly quality to Tintagel Castle, the mighty fortress of Arthurian legend which straddles its clifftop ravine on the North Cornish coast.

Last Sunday, the two sides were reunited for the first time in centuries thanks to a new £5million bridge straight out of a fantasy novel.

It was in Tudor times that the narrow strip of land which once connected the mainland part of 'King Arthur's Castle' to its island citadel fell into the sea.

Since then, any visitors have been forced to scale 148 steps cut in to the rock. For the old and infirm, it was out of the question.

Now, though, Tintagel is reunited — much to the relief of the locals. Up to a quarter of a million tourists each year are now expected to use this 21st century drawbridge — as I have just done.

With a gentle bounce underfoot and an alarming gap in the middle, it is an exhilarating experience.

But this crossing also heralds an important new era for many of this country's greatest historic treasures. And supervising it all is the Queen's son-in-law.

Vice Admiral Sir Timothy Laurence, husband of the Princess Royal, is one of the most low-profile members of the Royal Family but, as chairman of English Heritage, he is in charge of some of the most famous structures in the world.

He is the chief custodian of more than 400 hallowed national sites — ranging from Stonehenge and the Battlefield of Hastings to Shropshire's Iron Bridge and Osborne House — not to mention all those blue plaques on the homes of bygone greats.

On his watch, the whole lot has been turned into a new charity. And it has never attempted anything quite like the new bridge to 'King Arthur's Castle'.

So, ahead of the opening, I sat down for a rare and wide-ranging interview with the boss to discuss a range of issues, from government subsidies and HS2 to marrying in to the Royal Family, the prospects of a new Royal Yacht ('not now') and the pain of losing friends on active service.

What is instantly clear is that Sir Tim is much more than a figurehead. 'We're very ambitious.

We want to do things that are a bit spectacular,' he tells me as we study the plans for Tintagel. 'This is a leap. The whole point about it is accessibility.'

He recalls his first visit to Tintagel, negotiating the cliff in deep winter. 'I first went down on a wet January day and I think it's one of the most dangerous things I've ever done climbing down those steps!'

People had been mulling over the idea of a bridge for years, to no avail, until Sir Tim's arrival.

He got in touch with his friends Julia and Hans Rausing, members of the Swedish Tetra Pak clan, though he is modest about his part.

'I know the Rausing family and made an initial contact,' he says. The family trust made a generous grant of £2.5 million, the largest in the organisation's history. What had been a nebulous idea could suddenly take shape.

One might expect to find a risk-averse, steady-as-she-goes approach from a retired admiral in charge of a lot of old buildings (particularly one whose official address is Buckingham Palace).

Sir Tim, however, speaks frankly and clearly feels he is on a mission — against the clock.

He was appointed chairman of English Heritage as it was being cut loose from the state.

Pre-2015, it had been a public sector body with two roles: running historic sites such as Old Sarum and Audley End but also acting as the planning regulator for all listed buildings.

Then the Government split it up. A new state agency, Historic England, took on the regulation while all the historic sites went to a charity under Sir Tim.

It would retain the 'English Heritage' title but was given a grant of £80 million to get started. After that, it would be on its own.

Since most of English Heritage's sites — hill forts, remote ruins and so on — are open and free, it falls to a minority of paying landmarks such as Tintagel to subsidise the rest.

'When we get to the end of our capital grant in 2023, we've got to produce enough running income to cover our running costs plus additional income to invest,' says Sir Tim.

He might talk like the chairman of a FTSE100 company but his position at English Heritage is unpaid.

Yet he clearly loves it and has just been appointed for a second four-year term. And he is not afraid to get political defending his patch.

For example, he is adamant that the Government should slash VAT on conservation work.

'I would love to see VAT reduced on historic buildings. We've been fighting that battle for a long time.

'It would make a huge difference to the historic fabric of this country and it would provide a lot of extra jobs.'

He rattles off tourism statistics — £30 billion gross added value to the economy — and wishes ministers would listen. 'I'm pleading on behalf of the historic environment.

'I don't think the Government is "anti" but I think it could be more "pro". This is not a loss to the Treasury. There are benefits to the Treasury.'

He is also a fan of big, contentious projects such as the proposed road tunnel beneath Stonehenge and HS2.

'I'm supportive of HS2 — so long as we can do it in a way that is sympathetic to the countryside — because I believe very strongly in linking the North and the South of the United Kingdom.'

Having risen to the top of the Royal Navy during his 37-year career, Sir Tim has taken a number of public and private sector roles.

Aged 64, he maintains a schedule on a par with that of his famously busy wife (with 518 public duties in 2018, the Princess Royal still tops the Royal Family's league table of engagements).

Until his term of office finished this summer, Sir Tim was also vice-chairman and de facto head of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission which maintains the memorials and graves of 1.7 million men and women all over the world.

There, too, he ushered in a programme of innovations. The son of a Royal Navy officer who served in World War I, Sir Tim is keen to ensure we never forget those killed in all conflicts.

In 1982, he was serving as navigation officer in the destroyer HMS Sheffield, when he was summoned to Northern Ireland to lead a maritime patrol against IRA gun-runners.

In his absence, Sheffield headed to the South Atlantic without him. On May 4, 1982, she became the first major casualty of the Falklands War when an Argentine Exocet missile killed 20 men and sent the ship to the bottom of the sea. 'I vividly remember watching the news,' he says.

'My first thoughts were of friends. Several officers were killed, all of whom I knew.'

They are always in his mind when he attends the Remembrance Sunday service at the Cenotaph (a monument which, oddly, is maintained by English Heritage rather than the War Graves Commission).

At the age of 28, Lieutenant Laurence received a Mention in Despatches for his work in Northern Ireland and was marked out for higher things.

He was seconded to be Equerry to the Queen in 1986 (meeting his future wife in the process) before returning to sea in command of his own frigate.

In December 1992, he married the Princess Royal in a low-key winter ceremony at Balmoral (a moment of respite at the end of what the Queen had, days earlier, called her 'annus horribilis').

'Everybody who marries a member of the Royal Family has to craft their own way of doing things,' says Sir Tim.

'There's no book of how to behave when you marry the Royal Family.' The experience has left him with a deep admiration for two royal consorts.

'I'm a huge fan of Prince Albert. He designed and built Osborne with William Cubitt. He also designed and built Balmoral Castle.

He had an incredible mind. Bearing in mind how young he was when he died and what he achieved, he was an extraordinary man.'

So is Albert his inspiration? He smiles and points to a more recent role model. 'I think I've gained more from the Duke of Edinburgh obviously because I know him very well.

He is somebody who has supported the Monarch, but also done a huge amount in his own right.

Think of the Duke of Edinburgh's Award Scheme and the number of young people who have been through that.'

The Duke had been one of the Navy's rising stars when the sudden death of George VI put a stop to all that.

Sir Tim has great sympathy for his father-in-law. 'The difference for me, personally, was I was determined to stay in the Navy and I was able to do that.

That gave me a career in addition to supporting my wife for many years. It was suggested that the Duke should leave the Navy when the Queen became Monarch.

'I think, looking back, it might have been possible for him to stay for a bit which might have been good. But anyway, that's what happened.'

Sir Tim's first close encounter with the Royal Family came during a short stint in Britannia as a young 'season' officer.

He joined the Royal Yacht in the Gulf in 1979, with an early setback. 'I came back through the Suez Canal on my back because I'd picked up a stomach bug in Saudi Arabia.' His favourite memories are simply of making an entrance.

'The impact of the Royal Yacht coming in with the Queen on board is unbelievable,' he says.

It is now more than 20 years since Britannia was decommissioned to become a tourist attraction in Leith. Millions of us would dearly love to see a replacement.

Sir Tim thinks it could be a long wait. 'I don't think, at the moment, it could work,' he says. 'I won't say that it won't in the future because the tradition of royal yachts goes back to Charles II.

'The Queen is probably not going to do trips in the way that she has done in Britannia in the past. In a new reign, perhaps the moment may come when they say: 'Well, come on, We're a maritime nation.

'We are good at the sea. We connect with the world through the sea. Perhaps we should have a ship in some form that can represent our nation overseas.'

Britannia, like the monarchy, the English language and so much else — including our great historic sites — are examples of soft power. So do we make the most of them?

'Probably not. I think we could make more of them,' Sir Tim reflects.

'The story that we try to tell through our English Heritage properties is of a nation developing from its roots, developing the rule of law, developing good governance, developing civilised structures.

'I think that is something which most countries overseas appreciate more than many people in Britain actually.'

He points to some conversations he had during this summer's state visit at the Palace.

'I spoke to several people in President Trump's camp who appreciate what Britain has contributed and can contribute.'

Does it bother him when, say, a hectic royal tour with the Princess goes unnoticed back home?

As one who never sought the limelight in the first place, he is relaxed. 'My observation of those trips is that they have an impact overseas, which is very significant and not always appreciated.

'There's a great poem called the Laws Of The Navy, written in about 1900. One of the verses is: 'If you win through an African jungle/ unmentioned at home in the Press/ Trouble not, no man sees the piston/ But it driveth the ship, none the less.' I love that.

Sometimes you have to go overseas and do your bit and just accept that people won't notice it. It's part of life — as frustrating as the fact that it rains on Mondays!'

So what next after spanning the chasm at Tintagel Castle? Sir Tim is keen to see a broader range of names on Britain's blue plaques. As for new sites, he'd like to take on some 'brilliant' old Lancashire cotton mills, despite friendly competition with the National Trust.

And he would dearly love to house the Bayeux Tapestry at a purpose-built site at the Battle of Hastings in Sussex when it makes its long-awaited first visit to Britain in the next few years.

He sees no reason why the capital should hog it. 'It's good for people to get out of London — and Battle is not that far.' He also wants to see English Heritage push its £5-a-month membership scheme — with free entry to all sites — over the one million mark.

Some might lament the fact that great landmarks such as Stonehenge, the Cenotaph or Dover Castle depend on rattling a tin.

Sir Tim sees it as an opportunity: 'It's much clearer, now that we are a charity, for people to know what they are giving money to and how we're using it.'

At Tintagel, the results are plain to see. Sir Tim believes the new bridge would probably never have happened in the days of state control. 'It would have been difficult,' he says. 'We needed the independence of thought.'

Walking across the slate-lined pathway over the dizzying void — in fact it consists of two bridges with a three-inch gap in the middle for thermal expansion — I have no doubt this will be a splendid addition to the Cornish landscape.

Project manager Reuben Briggs points to the steel 'dampers' which will prevent a wobble like that which plagued London's Millennium Bridge and says that the design can withstand a hurricane.

The main problem I foresee will be the queues flocking to pay homage to King Arthur, Sir Lancelot, Sir Galahad and the other knights of the Round Table.

Being gallant chaps, I trust they'll make a space for Sir Tim.

#tim laurence #interview #article

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cantillat · 8 months

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Alright, I decided to take a page from Andre and write about Fuyuki. (yes, I'm linking his post because it is good shit and you should learn more about Stilwater)

It is never stated the specific province in Japan where Fuyuki is located, only that it is tucked away in a mountain range, in a bay area and it is split right in the middle by the Mion river. The town’s namesake, Winter Tree, comes from the fact that the winters are supposed to be long but they don’t seem to be particularly harsh.

The west side of the town is called Miyama Town (Miyama-cho) and it is where the older houses are located. There is an intersection road that connects to many different areas of the town: the northern part of the district is the traditional Japanese district, the foreign district to the south, the road to the Homurahara Academy and the commercial district.

The Emiya residence is located in the Japanese district, atop of a hill. At the time of the construction of the house the zoning weren’t very well defined so the place ended up being a mansion. His place is actually referred as the samurai house. (In FGO, it is the Unknown Coordinates X-A in Singularity F) Most houses in this neighborhood are what one would expect from Japanese suburban architecture, one or two stores small residences with a small garden, with the odd mansion here and there. The Fujimuras also have a mansion in that district, old man Raiga is the local yakuza boss. His son-in-law practices sumo and his granddaughter is the English teacher at a local high school.

The foreign district is the southern residential area. Perhaps because of its proximity to the sea there was an influx of people from overseas and the town seems to be friendly towards the Christian faith (which is uncommon in Japan) but they eventually died out or simply became integrated with the general population. It is where you can find the Tohsaka and the Matou residence. (In FGO, Tohsaka Residence is the crater in Unknown Coordinates X-B) Many of the buildings follow what you'd call a Victorian style and other western architecture and they can range from small mansions to regular residences as well.

In between the two residential districts there is the commercial area known as Mount Miyama. It has a number of shops like a flower shop, the fishmonger and a number of stalls and markets, mostly small businesses. You can find the Koushuuensaikan Taizan, the only Chinese Restaurant in that part of the town and it is famous for its extremely spicy food. There is also the Edomaeya, a food stall with its popular taiyaki and the Singing Birds Retreat, an antique shop. If you keep walking towards the Bridge you'll arrive at the old downtown area that has many larger shops and other commodities. The old city hall and administrative facilities used to be there but were moved to Shinto.

The Homurahara Academy is its main high school and the location of the associated middle school is never revealed. The Yatsushirodai Elementary School is located just outside Fuyuki in the rural area. Homurahara has an outstanding archery range that is a rather large building next to the woods surrounding the area. (In FGO it is the Unknown Coordinates X-F)

To the west there is the Mount Enzou, a sacred mountain that has the convergence of all of the city’s leylines in the southwest area. The Ryuudou temple is located atop of the area, its characteristics means that beings having a spiritual body can only enter throughout its front gates. Underneath the temple area there is a cavern that is one of the possible point to summon the Holy Grail. Following a trail behind the temple leads to the graveyard.

South to the temple there is a large forest area, where the Einzbern castle is located. It has a boundary field and it can’t be found by ordinary people. (In FGO, it is the Unknown Coordinates X-G)

There is a park alongside the river right next to the large bridge that connects the two towns that forms Fuyuki City.

Shinto (aka New Town) is the newer district located to the east. Around 1990s the area had a major investment to modernize the city, starting a large-scale redevelopment funded by the local government. The City Hall was moved from Miyama, soon a shopping mall was constructed and many buildings followed. The Central Building is the highest building in Fuyuki, located about 4 kilometers (about 2 and a half miles) from the bridge and became a focal point of the town in the properly named Centerville Neighborhood. The Hyatt Hotel is also located nearby and was rebuilt after being partially destroyed in 1994. The Fuyuki Civic Center was supposed to be the crown jewel of the urban development plan along with the Central Building at the cost of 8 billion yen, covering 6600 square meters with four floors and one basement. However, a massive fire completely destroyed the area in 1994 and 134 nearby buildings. Instead of rebuilding the Civic Center, it was turned into the Fuyuki Central Park.

The area around the park underwent a quick rebuilding process but the Central Park itself isn’t very popular. In fact, it is a little underdeveloped if compared to other smaller parks scattered around town. According to Archer the grudges of the people who died there in 1994 still lingers, causing an effect similar to a Reality Marble. In layman's terms, that means the place could be called "haunted" by normal people or at least have a similar sensation.

Close to the Central Station there is Copenhagen, a liquor shop that also operates as a pub and redistributes supplies to some locations. Nearby there is also the largest shopping mall in town, named Verde. It has a movie theater, a bookshop (called Azumi), a tea shop and the largest stuffed animal store is also located there (called Fancy Shop). From the Station it is also possible to reach Waku Waku Splash, a large indoors pool complex that opened in 2004.

Also in Shinto there is a residential district named Kurokizaka that is known for its many buildings, including the Semina Apartments and other similar complexes. Around 2004 there was a murder-disappearing case in the building.

To the north there is the harbor, the town receives a large amount of shipments from the continent and other areas. It is also a prime spot for fishing.

To the south it is possible to find the church and the foreigners graveyard. The church has a living area upstairs and a rather large basement. (In FGO it is the Unknown Coordinates X-E)

Maybe I'm going to make a post with a brief story of the town, both with information for common people and for mages. But this is the general gist of everything. Tumblr also messed the masonry of this post somehow, many of the images were supposed to be in a grid and I'm sorry for that.

#x emiya : meta

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activate-shadow-of-the-window · 11 months

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Day 6 of No One Except @mr-orion Asked November (NoOneExOriAskNov). I’m really coming to appreciate the ‘auto’ edit button on Apple devices.

Five and a half of the Hermit Civilizations in my Horizon au, because I’m tired as hell. From top to bottom, there is Bdubs’ Land of Livingstone, Cub’s Climbing Spires, Doc’s Maw, False’s Umbra, Gem’s Evergreen, and unfinished Scar’s Technicolor City.

I kinda just chose random sections of each hermit’s aesthetics and building styles to make these civs.

I’m gonna draw these places a lot more for landscape and building practice, of which I have almost none.

In-depth descriptions below the cut. They’re what I based these sketches on.

There are two great hills, steep and rocky, that surround the vale at the center of the Land of Livingstone. Straddled by two great bridges of white rock and creeping vines, their arches swirl with carvings and gradients. Similar odd shapes dot the valley, anchored into the sides of the hills: rusted buildings of metal and brick, adorned with half-crumbled chimneys and long shut doors. Nature has reclaimed this place, as the flower forest grows closer every year, and even the great bridges look as if they are about to buckle. But the ancient buildings persist, unwilling to yield to the land. Some still halfheartedly belch smoke, spooking the birds into flight.

The sun is hot and inescapable in the southern realm of Climbing Spires, its beams blanketing the red sand and enormous rock formations that give this kingdom its name. Adorning these spires are buildings, spindly and delicate yet sturdy enough to cling to the colorful rock. Perilous staircases and thin walkways of metal and wood are contrasted by robust columns and arches of sandstone and brick. What little fresh water can be found here is carefully shuttled about through pipes and waterfalls, adding a sense of movement to the otherwise eerily still architecture.

Whether the Maw got its name from the great spines of ice on its surface or the toothlike rocks of its underground is unclear, but wherever it came from, this land has a fitting name. Icy and inhospitable, the surface is deceptively barren of buildings aside from a few circular boreholes reinforced with iron. But these are no mere pits; they are the entrance to the subterranean complex below the snow-covered landscape above. Practical and brutalist, the underground buildings of this land are home to many strange machines that farm food without light and produce material in seconds, making this underground world one of the Land of the Sunrise’s best kept secrets.

The simple name for the land of Umbra is fitting; forested and shady, the thick canopy of trees hide the incredibly advanced yet eerily dark civilization whose inhabitants are almost never seen. Smooth buildings of dark stone and tinted glass manage to be imposing in their small size, draped with strange foliage that glows unnatural colors of red and blue. Towers that mimic trees and doorways like metal cave mouths are obscured beneath years, if not decades, of underbrush. This realm is closed to most outsiders, and not even traders may come any closer than the upper canopy.

True to its name, the queendom of Evergreen is completely forested in pine, spruce, and fir trees. The deep green canopy is broken by tall castles, their pale tiled spires and dark wood halls evoking a sense of regality and wonder. Thin, arcing bridges connect stone tower to stone tower, allowing their inhabitants the ability to cross rivers and valleys without ever touching the earth. Below these great structures is a dark, fertile ground from which mushrooms and sweet berries readily grow, a thick layer of undergrowth that houses foxes and wolves alike.

Too big to be called a city, yet too small to be an empire of its own, Technicolor City seems to have been plucked straight out of a painting. Every building is unique and colorful, yet they all perfectly meld into a skyline that seems to be made of jewels, aided by perfectly swooping hills covered in flowers and trees. Wide boulevards share space with quaint streets and footpaths, each and every one lit day and night. Every inch of the city seems to reach out in welcome to all comers.

#no one asked november #horizon to horizon au #hermitcraft au #art for my fic #sketch #pencil

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cantillat-moved · 1 year

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Alright, I decided to take a page from Andre and write about Fuyuki. (yes, I'm linking his post because it is good shit and you should learn more about Stilwater)

South to the temple there is a large forest area, where the Einzbern castle is located. It has a boundary field and it can’t be found by ordinary people. (In FGO, it is the Unknown Coordinates X-G)

There is a park alongside the river right next to the large bridge that connects the two towns that forms Fuyuki City.

To the north there is the harbor, the town receives a large amount of shipments from the continent and other areas. It is also a prime spot for fishing.

To the south it is possible to find the church and the foreigners graveyard. The church has a living area upstairs and a rather large basement. (In FGO it is the Unknown Coordinates X-E)

#x emiya : meta

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