#lakota mc

[silas-viridian]

[wings-of-ink]

Did Oswin ever wonder if Lakota and MC might be interested in each other? Since they were so close, had a certain amount in common, and were the same age?

Yes actually! It was when the whole gang was pretty young still though. When Lakota and Willow became close, Oswin was a little surprised even.

[justlarkin]

What do you think Tiamat's, Heyoka's and Kinmamon's Rules gonna be?

-Marduk hasn't mentioned much about Tiamat so far besides the fact that she's the embodiment of chaos, so the only thing that comes to mind is something like rending order.

-Kinmamon is kinda hard to guess. Nirai Kanai is a world where the sun can reach you anywhere, even after death, but Kinmamon defied this by disappearing into the abyss, where the sun can't reach them. With most of the exiles' rules being something that directly defies the world, it could be be something like rending light, but it couldn't be that simple, right?

Teda did mention seeing Kinmamon's light during the fight in Holy Gangstar, but I don't recall MC using a specific rule at that time. They just blocked an ice sickle from hitting him.

-Great Spirit has an "all for all" moto, but Heyoka defied this by alienating himself from everyone else, so maybe something like rending unity for him? There's also the idea that characters with the valiant attribute inherited something from someone else and who has a valiant attribute for his summer alt? Thunderbird. I don't recall them elaborating on what exactly he "inherited" during the event, but his bio mentions vision quests.

Heyoka are considered to be medicine-men and healers (at least in Lakota culture), and medicine-men help guide people through their vision quests. I think the specific heyoka ceremony that Thunderbird's summopedia page mentions might actually be vision related as well, but don't quote me on that. And there was one source that said the thunder god Heyoka presided over the land of dreams. That's all just to say his rule could also be related to dreams and vision quests if it's not just a side ability of his.

[ometochtli2rabbit]

13.0.12.1.7

b'olon[9] MANIK'/K'IEJ[deer] lajun[10] CEH

galactic tone: patience/ cyclic periodicity

sun sign: deer/black/west

be of service to others - MAYA

chicunahui[9] - MAZATL [deer]

Quetzalcoatl | Tlaloc

totolin[turkey]

lord of the night: Chalchihuitlicue

trecena[9]: Tlaloc

x: nahui [4] - tlacaxipehualiztli - NAHUA

since we are halfway through Native American Heritage Month, I wanted to get some more NATIVE artists on a playlist:

Tall Paul Hip Hop: Someone Great Who Looked Like Me & Protect Ya Spirit & All Kings

Shining Soul: Good Times

Rezcoast Grizz: Water

Jade Turner: Worth

Bigg B ft. N8: Deep End

Las Cafeteras: Mujer Soy (remix)

Artson Ft. MC Red Cloud: Focused

Raye Zaragoza: In the River: A Protest Song

Shibastik: Stay (on the Wind)

Wolf Saga: Walls

Doc Native & Spencer Battiest: The Storm

Jessa Calderon: Walk Away

Mozart Gabriel: Across Seas

Quese IMC: Life So Great

Tha 'Yoties: Sunflower Girl

MC Woes: Raise it Up

Alas: Deathless & Untitled

Hellnback: Feelin Like

Gemma Castro: Me Acostumbraste

Supaman: Prayer Loop Song

Audiopharmacy: Solidarity

Soufy: Joyful

Lyla June: All Nations Rise

Metallica (Robert Trujillo): You Must Burn

Funkdoobiest: Tomahawk Bang

Tiana Spotted Thunder: Stand By Me (Lakota Version)

Link Wray: Comanche

Sten Joddi: They Don't Understand Me

Trixie Mattel, Vanessa Williams & Lion Babe: Bop!

Snotty Nose Rez Kids ft. Beau Dick: Skoden & SHAPESHIFTER

[stxalq]

i don't know if this is the same order as everywhere else, but it's the one i know by heart at this point

grand entrance: everyone stands. host drum stars the straight beat, social dance, no tricks or sneak ups. loud, exciting, MC introduces every category. th drum group will probably take all the next songs, but i've seen MCs split things up. one of the only formation dances in the modern pow wow

invocation: an old man steps up to the mic. he's a veteran. this is his 51st delta park pow wow (this is the 51st delta park pow wow). "i'm going to say the prayer in my native language and then we can get on with the pow wow." "i've been to every pow wow." gives his prayer in lakota, then again in english, signs off in lakota, refuses to elaborate

flag song: obviously a dirge. half time feel. subdued drum beat (except the lead drummer accenting the end of every verse, naturally). silence and stillness except for the drum

victory song: you all might be too young for this, but in the old days my ancestors would listen to music on these ancient artifacts called CDs. and between songs you could cross fade in the negative space before a song. the victory song cross fades through and under the flag song. this effect is enhanced if you split flag/victory song duties (atypical). victory song is another straight beat, faster, the kind you could fancy dance to. flags are set in their stands. the song ends, dancers excused, everyone can finally sit

veterans: every veteran in the arena (yes every veteran in the arena or on the grounds or within earshot) is invited to the floor. they line up ahead of royalty and each in turn step to the mic to give their name, service, and years of service. they retire to stage right

royalty: royalty introduce themselves (and subtly one-up each other in giving thanks and humility and good words to everyone in attendance). as they retire to stage right they shake the hands of every veteran

intertribal: finally. every vet and royalty is excused. the host drum or junior host drum starts a set of intertribal songs to shake off the cobwebs. the MC will tell everyone to get into the arena, regalia or no. your brain and attention will be fried at this point, i guarantee it, and you will need the wake-up call

[ikesenhell]

Courage

GLITTER & GOLD, CHAPTER 5. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: Mildly traumatizing content? Implied gore and suicide? It isn’t too bad I promise.  Thanks to all my readers who stopped in and @velociraptor-detective​ for always line editing.

They started the meeting with the usual things that were always discussed when it came to Waŋblí Hoȟpi; food, storage, transportation, the recreation of the rail lines, so on. Masamune didn't know why he’d been summoned until the tail end, when Ieyasu smacked down a tiny mechanical thing in front of him.

“Ieyasu,” Mitsunari squeaked, “I appreciate your fervor, but please be more careful with it, it did take a while for me to fix that--”

Ieyasu pointedly ignored him. “If you really want us to track down where your ghost ship goes, you have to do something stupid, apparently.”

Masamune poked at it. It looked almost exactly like a box, except with a small slot on the front, a little lense, and a few buttons. “What is this, pre-war tech?”

“Yes.” The blonde returned flatly, crossing his arms. “It is, and it took me forever to find the damn thing, so you’d better keep good track of it. It’s a Polaroid camera.”

“No shit. Huh.” Masamune picked it up and pretended to fumble it, catching the device a half second later and relishing the look of horror on Ieyasu and Mitsunari’s faces. Mitsuhide hid his face behind his jacket sleeve. “What do you want me to do with this?”

All eyes turned to Mitsunari.

“Well,” Mitsunari started, slower and less enthusiastic than usual, “You see, we did develop a map of possible patterns and pathways the ship takes. It appears to be pretty consistent, according to the reported sightings.”

Masamune seriously considered juggling the Polaroid and stayed himself. “Okay. What’s this got to do with the camera?”

“Further research is necessary. If we know where it is, then it would behove us to find out… well… what it is.”

It all clicked at last.

“You want me to photograph this thing.” Masamune paused. “Is that what’s going on?”

“Yes!” Mitsunari brightened up. “Preferably from as many angles as possible. The Uesugi-Takeda settlement is coming for talks, and they have an excellent mechanical engineer who I want to take a look at it--”

“That’s a hard no from me.” Masamune pushed the device into Ieyasu’s arms. “You want me to get near the mystery murder boat that happens to have a cult of devotees? Are you insane?”

“Told you,” Ieyasu muttered to the camera. It remained stubbornly mute on the subject.

“You asked us to locate it,” Mitsuhide pointed out reasonably. “And along the route, there’s a fair chance that you might find something of value. We are talking about kidnappings, after all. We did our part--”

“Your part involved being around a fucking table, not chasing down the goddamn--” Masamune sputtered for words. “Ghost scurvy ship!”

Nobunaga, who up until now had remained utterly silent behind his table, finally spoke up. “Would you rather we get someone who isn’t already on the cultists radar? I’m certain if I asked Hideyoshi nicely enough, he’d put himself in the line of fire.”

Masamune shook his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Maybe Mitsunari? He certainly seems game. Or perhaps your precious shopkeeper--”

That was enough. Masamune drew the machete and leveled it at the other man. “That’s not fucking funny.”

Nobunaga just shrugged. “I never implied it was.”

“Don’t--don’t ask her,” Masamune pleaded, lowering the weapon. “She’d do it, too.”

Silence. Mitsunari wilted. Masamune seriously considered blowing up on the spot. “You asked her anyway, didn't you?”

“Well, I asked her first,” Mitsunari confessed, pushing his fingers together. “Since she also seems so invested in this problem. She said she would, but wanted to have you with her…”

Fuck.

“Give me that,” Masamune snapped, snatching up the camera from Ieyasu’s arms. “Does it come with a goddamn harness, or should I just wave it at the death ship freehand?”

“It has a harness.”

“Give it to me.”

They handed it over without commentary. Steaming, Masamune stalked from the room.

---

She was already waiting by the motorcycle as he exited.

“They hassled you about it?”

“Sure did, Kitten.” He sighed raggedly, sweeping past her and into the house. She followed. “Are we really doing this?”

“Masamune. We went stalking around a corn field at night and nearly got shot by a bunch of shotgun-wielding yokels, and you laughed.”

What could he even say to that that wasn’t so close to the truth? He fetched a glass and wriggled it at her, an understood question of do you want something to drink? She shook her head. He puttered around the kitchen, moving Ieyasu’s seedling peppers out of the sink and onto the windowsill for sunlight, and tried to buy himself some time.

It wasn’t enough. He could practically smell the gunpowder. He could hear his father in the quiet echo of his pulse, in the empty space where his eye once was.

“How much did I tell you about how my dad went?” He asked at last.

She hesitated, opened her mouth, closed it, and finally allowed, “Not much. You weren’t really coherent, and then you just…”

“Took off,” he completed for her. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Silence. He paced around the table and ignored the glass of water he’d poured. “Dad saw the ship first, you know. He wasn’t really a superstitious guy, but he was getting up there and losing it a little. Grandad had dementia, so I think that was kind of starting to kick in, you know? He--he was always so strong. I can’t explain what happened. But the ship--the ship just punched the wind out of him somehow.”

She said nothing. He stretched out his arms as if physical exercise would chase the ghosts away. It didn't. Talking faster--like that would hurt less!--Masamune continued. “And like, you know, it only gives you a week. That’s what the legend says. You’ve got a week. We didn't really tell anyone at the time, cause he was a silent type and I was not really that spooked, right? But it got to Dad. I think he thought if we could get through the week, it would all be okay. He started staying up real late and drinking coffee all the time, maybe some herbal stuff. I don’t know what all he did. He didn't want it to get me.”

“Right,” was all she murmured. “I remember that.”

He pushed on, trying to punch through the burning in his eyes. “I just watched him--I watched him dissolve. He turned from my dad into some fucking stranger in a matter of days. It ate him alive. At the end of it, he couldn’t have told me what was sane and what wasn’t. All he thought was that--he thought that taking me at his own hand was mercy. He thought it was cleaner. He thought--”

Could he even say it? Masamune buckled onto the floor and drew his knees up to his chest. How could he articulate being on the wrong side of a gun, when the man behind it was his father? How could he describe the madness and fear in his hero’s eyes? Losing his sight, losing the rest of his family, losing his home in one fell swoop--

“I always say,” he managed, ignoring the tears on his cheeks, “that the ship didn't take him, he took him. That’s a damn lie. The ship took him. The ship took him, and he just finished the job for it. And I’m fucking terrified that if those shitbags out there in the prairie don’t get you, the fear will.”

Wind rattled the house siding. He rubbed stubbornly at his face, willing himself to stop, willing her to stop looking at him. She didn't. Instead she rose and crept to his side, settling down in front of his knees.

“Ah, Kitten,” he forced, “I’m not looking too cool right now.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she demurred, wiping his face with her fingertips. She smelled like lavender oils. “I wouldn’t say that at all.”

He lowered his face into her hand and shut his eye, letting the scent waft over him. Away went the lingering taste of gunpowder. Away went the vision of what little remained of his father. All that was left was her--her and the creaking floorboards and the soft rush of air outside. She danced the other hand through his hair and despite himself, he moaned soft appreciation.

“We’re going to stop it.” It wasn’t a statement, but a declaration. Her voice almost echoed in the space. “We’re going to do it. There won’t be anyone else taken by the fear--not you, not me, no one. No more.”

---

He donned his lucky gloves the next day and zipped his jacket up to the hilt. She was waiting for him outside the shop when he pulled up. Wordlessly, Masamune offered her the Polaroid.

“It has a strap,” he indicated. She raised a brow at him.

“It’s bright orange. I can see that.”

Shit. He’d sounded just like Hideyoshi then, hadn’t he? Covering for it, Masamune grinned. “Just thought I’d point it out before Ieyasu kills me. Ready?”

She exhaled and pulled back her braids. “As I can be. Move up.”

The sun was setting in the distance, a golden globe radiating across the plains. In his travels, he’d never seen a more beautiful sunset. Out in the east, the eerie fallout glow caused too much fog and polluted rain to really enjoy it. In the south, the land was too barren to risk being out during the daytime. But here? Oh, he relished having her clutch him tight as the wind whistled around them.

“We’re gonna follow around the trail they marked,” Masamune shouted back to her, “They said it shows up around nightfall. You ready?”

She just lifted her thumb in assent.

The grasses bent sideways, flaming orange in the sunlight. And then--

“Holy shit!” She shouted.

Masamune chanced a glance back in a mirror and his blood ran icy cold. There it was. Behind them and moving fast, the ghost ship sailed silently over the grasses.

“Hold on!” He commanded, kicking the engine into the next gear. “And get those photos!”

“On it!”

Not even the new muffler could stifle the roar of the motorcycle. The prairie transformed into a yellow blur, air deafening him. Even then the ship pulled alongside them. Its perfect mast soared overhead, no colors flying, just its sheer surface coloring the whole landscape green. The bare timber sides grew closer and closer as it edged toward the road.

This was it. This was the moment. If death awaited them, it came now. Masamune held his breath and tried to urge the motorcycle faster, but it wasn’t enough. The ghost merged and came level, holding steady mere inches from them.

It won’t hurt anyone else.

In a moment of insane bravery, Masamune thrust his hand out and plunged it into the side. It wasn’t cold or solid, but just--nothing. He waved his palm back and forth. Only air greeted his fingertips. He flapped his arm.

“What are you doing!?” She shouted.

“Fuck you, ghost boat!” He bellowed. “You ain’t shit!”

“You’re insane!” But her laughter was unmistakable. “I can’t get a good shot if you keep doing that--”

Courage flooded him like hot water. “Then try it like this!”

Without warning, Masamune veered sharply to the side, bringing the whole motorcycle inside the ship. She screamed and clutched at him. All he could do was laugh--laugh at the terror he’d held on to for years, laugh at the impassive thing that had taken so much from him--and let it out into the world they tore through. It didn't shift in its course. And at last--at last, when he was certain holding onto the speed would hurt the bike, he slowed and let it overtake them, sailing on. They puttered to a halt and watched it move into the distance.

“Oh my god!” She staggered off the bike, shaking her limbs. “Oh my god!”

Masamune leaped off the bike. “First things first; are you okay?”

“Y--I think so!” Her staccato laugh echoed all the fluttering in his stomach. “I can’t believe we just did that--I can’t believe you just did that--”

“It isn’t shit,” he affirmed, breathless with energy. “It can’t touch us. It isn’t going to ever again. You’re right.”

Oh god, when she smiled like that, it almost took all the breath he’d gathered back up and crushed it out of his lungs again. And she was so beautiful, with her braids cascading down her shoulders and her dark eyes crinkled in the twilight sun, all the stars that hadn’t yet started glowing reflected there, and--

“Come here,” he commanded.

She took one step forward. That was enough. He closed the distance between them and crushed her body against his, pressing a fierce kiss to her mouth. She gasped; he pulled back only a second before she tugged him back in by the jacket.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed.

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, and hitched her up under her thighs. She obligingly wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him back in, her mouth lighting-spark hot. Everything he had ever seen and done fell away. What else could compare to this? What else could compare to her?

He’d spent his life running, and he’d never managed to leave her behind.

“I think I love you,” he breathed against her. She just grinned.

“I know you do.”

[aroaessidhe]

2021 reads // twitter thread

Sorrowland

sci-fi/fantasy gothic horror

a young queer Black woman escapes from an isolated cult and raises her newborn twins in the woods

 when she starts to develop strange abilities, she realises she might have to enter the outside world to find out more

this is SO GOOD

[yagodichjagodic]

Frank Waln.

IG: theidolcollective Twitter: idol_collective Shop: theidolcollective.com

[mewtwoandme]

While obviously she'd never appreciate being touched by a human, do you think your Newt would appreciate physical affection from, say, another Mewtwo (though not our MC 'two, for obvious reasons)?

The only other mewtwos Newt would accept the most affection from would be Amber and Blu, cause obviously Blu is her son and Amber is her niece lol though honestly later down the road, probably around the time she finds out she's pregnant, both her and Mewtwo would be more open to expressing sibling affection, cause 'Two would understand if she'd need some comfort during that time. And once she feels more comfortable around Lakota, she might even tolerate a quick hug or two from her if she needs one X3

[turnbacktyne]

Are you native? I am too I’m lakota!

Ah unfortunately I'm not, but I'm so glad to hear that I have indigenous people in my followers!

I'm irish, but I've always wanted to learn and understand the native people in what's now America, especially since the irish and indigenous have a long history of supporting each other.

The powwow was open to the public and I wanted to learn and support local tribes so I was super happy I got to go! I learned a lot and saw amazing things, I loved the fancy shawl dance and the MC calling the dancers storytellers just really struck something in me

[official-cisphobe]

whats wrong with the new spirit movie?

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron (og)

has a power message about colonisation

follows the journey of a wild horse escaping colonisers and befriending Little Creek (a Lakota man)

shows the horrors and damage white people caused on native land and how they treated indigenous people

is a good film, done properly and respectfully (as far as I'm aware)

Spirit: Untamed (/ Riding Free)

Everyone is white now (edit: the mc is half Mexican and there is one black character)

white girl tames the wild horse

white girl saves the day

not a single indigenous character in sight

[smokinfox]

" You must stop doing this, white Knife."

🐎 Smoking Fox

🐃 Apache Woman

🔥 Married with @heroicknife

🐴 Descriptive

🐃 MC 21 + #Parody #Roleplay #1883

🐎 Writer is Lakota Sioux 🐎

🔥 #OutlawGunsRp @divinekindred

🐎 Pinned by #Fatal #Radiant

🐎 ❤️ or 🔄 🐎

[wings-of-ink]

Something fluffy because the sun has been really golden and nice where I live. 💛 How would the dads or Lakota respond to an MC naming their baby after them? We love our extended circle of support!

Short of basically melting into a puddle...

Dov (Papa) cries because of course he does. Does the thing where he paces and covers his face with his hands and then looks at the little baby with his namesake, cries more, and it just cycles from there.

Kip (Da) invents a new dance. Says the baby's name way more than necessary.

Lakota is a combo really. He's going to be super moved, but is prone to jumping and clapping when excited. And hugging - so much hugging.

Thank you for the very tenderhearted ask, Anon! ^_^

[outlawnavajo]

"When the spirit horse comes.. Then it's over."

🐎 ~ Chavez Y Chavez

🐎 ~ Navajo Tribe

🐎 ~ Regulators @AnOutlawBilly @poeticguns @awantedoutlaw

🐎 ~ Descriptive

🐎 ~ MC 21 + #RolePlayer

🐎 ~ Writer is Lakota Sioux

🐎 ~ #OutlawGunsRp #YoungGuns

🐎 ~ Part of @eliteworldsverse

🐎 ~ Pinned by #Fatal #Radiant

❤️ or 🔄

[ometochtli2rabbit]

13.0.12.0.12

wuk[7] EB/ E'E [ROAD] jojlajun[15] ZAC

galactic tone: reflective/ mystic power

sun sign: ROAD| mountain lion/yellow(blue)/south

do some community service - MAYA

chicome[7] - MALINALLI [grass]

Centeotl | Patecatl

papalotl[butterfly]

lord of the night: Tlaloc

trecena[7]: Tonatiuh

x: chicunahui[9] - cuauhuitlehua - NAHUA

it's time to feature more of our future ancestors, more NATIVE AMERICAN artists:

Tall Paul Hip Hop: Zombie Ate My Natives & April Fool's

Desirae Harp and Lyla June: Native Women

Drezus Music: Cover My Shoulders & Get Up

Frank Waln: AbOriginal

Stella Standingbear; Alright

Wolf Saga: Always With Me

Lightning Cloud: Burn it Down

Wake Self & Def-I: Hunger Pains

White White Buffalo: A Red Arrow Lullaby

Leonard Sumner: Dream Catcher

Shibastik: Hand Drum

Las Cafeteras: Luna Lovers

Tribe Called Red (the Halluci Nation) ft Northern Voice: Sisters

Audiopharmacy: No Worries

Lakota John: Good Notes

Bigg B & N8: Northwest Bar

Jessa Calderon: Home of the Brave

MC Woes: Woe is Me

Gemma Castro: Mirame

Artson ft. Quese IMC & Supaman: Never Give Up

Shining Soul: All Day

Link Wray: Switchblade

John Trudell: See the Woman

Snotty Nose Rez Kids and Drezus Music: 96 Bulls & Let Ya Hair Down & Where They At

Snotty Nose Rez Kids ft Jeremy Dutcher: Future Ancestors

[brandedlakota]

"Yeah, I am a Dutton. And I am Lakota, Sioux."

🐎 Kayla Dutton

🐂 Cowgirl

🐃 Husband @brandedoutlaw

🐴 Writer is Lakota Sioux

🐄 Descriptive

🐂 MC 21 +

🐃 #YellowstoneTV #Roleplayer

🐎 Pinned by #Fatal #Radiant

🐎 💛 or RT 🐎