#living there have adapted to live in the shadows. there are a few villages that live in tall tree houses like the ewok villages that outsid

[starry-bi-sky]

finally giving fem danyal her own au and fulfilling my 'danny is an animal whisperer' agenda at the same time: mother of monsters danyal 2.0

i say "2.0" because TECHNICALLY 'mother of monsters danyal' is an au I made back in June for Dark fem!Danyal (who I promptly named Layal). However, I haven't posted much for her yet, and I like the "mother of monsters" premise too much to leave it only to Layal. Plus Danyal in that au was going to become the mother of monsters anyway, just with significantly less world domination and mass extinction.

'Animal whisperer' Danny has been something I've been thinking about since my latest DP 'wolfpack au' post and it's! So fun to think about, and who no better to assign the idea to than Danyal Al Ghul? Who comes from a family infamously known for their love of animals and nature?

Fem Danyal is just purely self-indulgent. *gestures wildly at her* i just lomvb,,, her,,,, I've only really mentioned her in context of the 'Things in Threes' au/my first Danyal al Ghul au with the facial scar, but she's!!! I love her. She deserves her own au <33

So kill three birds with one stone! Make a post about it.

Anyways, Danny has a large lair. Similar to cult leader danyal, her lair is a giant mountain region resembling nanda parbat with a big temple/palace-like area built into the mountain. It's large, it's overflowing with natural flora, with its own mini-floating islands hovering over some areas, and it's also completely empty.

Danny takes one look at her lair upon first meeting, -- noting that it looked relatively smaller from the outside -- and promptly, with the elegance of an Al Ghul, goes "What the hell??" Because yes, while she does enjoy her own solitude and privacy, this is a bit ridiculous.

For heaven's sake, there's even a massive lake in there! What's she going to do with all this space? Can she make it any smaller? Why is it so big in the first place? This looks borderline like one of the mega-islands!

She finds out later that apparently, the amount of ectoplasm a ghost has can have an effect on the size of their lair. And since she has such a large core, her lair reflects that. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, it's bigger on the inside so it doesn't take up "too much space" on the outside. Don't worry about it too much.

Danyal isn't totally opposed to having such a large lair, she's just... a bit baffled by it. It feels like so much wasted space is all. All this flora and no fauna to enjoy it with. It's practically eerie.

She decorates her temple-palace area, transforming rooms to match her needs as she sees fit. In the center of the inner gardens is a massive tree that she likes to climb, with twisting, winding branches. Sam and Tucker have honorary rooms, even if they can't safely leave the specter speeder for long periods of time, even with proper safety equipment. So does Jazz. Ali (Dani) has one too, but he can actually use that one, and Danny brought him to her lair so he could decorate it himself.

She has a personal garden, but for the most part she lets the flora exist as it is. Too much space to cultivate it en masse anyways.

Skip to a few weeks later, on her next visit to Clockwork. She developed a habit of going to see him semi-regularly just because. She enjoys his wisdom, and he has a lot of stories to tell, and when he's not being the cryptic and esoteric timekeeper, he's a bit goofy.

(pushing my dadwork agenda here,,, i think Danny deserves to go 'hey, Lord Clockwork, do you want me to buy you something' while she's at walmart, only to receive a singular glowing sticky note that says 'cucumber gatorade'.)

(She insists on referring to him with his proper titles even for the most mundane of things because it's proper, but Clockwork sees a future where she eventually calls him "Cee" and by all things in existence is he determined to get there. Anyways,,,)

On her next visit to Clockwork, just as she is about to leave, Clockwork stops her and goes; "Ah, I have something for you. Hold out your hands."

Danny does as such, and Clockwork doesn't give out things often, so her curiosity has spiked to the highest levels. He turns away from her for a moment, using his staff to summon whatever it is he needs, and when he turns around.

He drops a fish into her hands. Granted, a fish in a small glass tank. But a fish nonetheless. A small one, roughly about the size of her finger, with a blue-black, eel-shaped body and four sets of glowing eyes. She can see thin, almost translucent, but spiny fins down its back and the start of bioluminescent markings. It's swimming around in circles in its small container.

"Lord Clockwork." Danyal says all too calmly.

"Yes, Danyal?"

"What is this?"

"That is an adolescent leviathan, Danyal." She’s transfixed onto the tank, but she doesn’t need to see Clockwork’s face to hear the smile he’s stifling.

The myriad of emotions that runs through her all at once threatens to overwhelm her, and she can’t tell if the feelings are negative or positive. So she carefully closes her eyes to breathe in through her nose.

“Clockwork.”

“Ah, I see you’ve dropped formalities.”

She ignores that.

“Why have you given me an adolescent leviathan?”

She's expecting the trickster to look amused when she opens her eyes. Instead, he just looks endeared. "I know you're fond of animals," he says, "and you always look amazed when you come across an animal of the realms. So I thought you might enjoy taking care of the young beast, it's mother is dead so it has no one to care for it."

Oh.

"But, if you don't like it," Clockwork's hands reach out for the tank, "I can simply take it back--"

Danyal shifts the tank out from his reach and hugs it possessively. "I never said that. How do I care for it?"

And so clockwork gives her a list, and when Danyal returns to her lair, she sets up a large tank in her room for the leviathan to swim in -- it's much too small for the lake right now, she thinks. She'll feel better if it's somewhere she can find it. She names him Suhā.

Suhā grows quickly, and by the end of the mortal month she transforms one of the rooms into a large pond for him to swim around in. He's a very loyal beast, recognizing her as it's mother of some kind. Danyal takes great care ensuring that her beastie gets quality care, and Suhā swims to the surface to see her when he senses her in the room.

It spirals from there. Somehow, Pandora catches wind that Clockwork gave her a leviathan, and so the next time Danyal visits the Greater Athens, she gives her a baby chimera. It's eyes are still sealed shut, Danyal can't bring herself to say no. She names the little beastie Firas.

Frostbite hears about it too, and not to be outdone, gives her an animal she's never even heard of. Infinite-realms born, apparently. A fox-like creature with two small horns like an impala, four eyes, and tall legs. The name isn't something she's quite sure how to write down, and she's positive that her friends won't be able to comprehend it. She names her Eira.

Getting the three of them used to each other was... interesting. Suhā tried to eat Firas when Danyal first introduced the two, and they've hated each other ever since. Firas and Eira are seemingly getting along. Her island already feels full enough with the three of them on it.

Of course, that's not the end of it. With her luck, she begins stumbling across other monsters. Realms-borne or otherwise. An injured hydra in the Grecian islands that, through lots of trial and error, Danyal is able to rehabilitate and heal. It routinely comes to visit her afterwards.

A griffin with a broken wing that she moves permanently to the island that likes to keep to itself, but tends to come down when she's near. It gets along best with Firas.

A panther-like monster from the Shades Woods that had six legs and three tails, with ends that reminded her of a venus flytrap. It stuck around the heavy foliage and she can only make out where it was when she saw its golden eyes reflect.

She befriends a young indrik with its leg injured, and much like the hydra it follows her back to her island, and stays there in the mountains. It comes out when she's alone, much like her other beasts.

She receives two more leviathan -- one from clockwork, and one she finds herself while exploring the deeper and darker recesses of the Ghost Zone. It was huddled against the carcass of its mother, and she managed to befriend and get close enough to it to bring it back to her island. Suhā is fully grown by then, with a head bigger than Danyal herself and he still likes to stick her head out of the water for nuzzles when she's near.

He's not very happy with his new siblings, but he's not trying to eat them when she's not looking. So she calls it a win in her book.

And it's not just large beasts either; smaller animals begin popping up when she's not looking. Bird-like creatures and small mammals, and she swears she saw a doe (or something resembling a doe) grazing in the forest while she was walking by.

She takes back with her a lone snake egg once, and it grows so big it wraps around her island and sleeps with its massive head on the mountain beside the temple, like some smaller breed of Jörmungandr.

And on and on it goes. Some of the beasts she comes across never step foot onto her island, some of them follow her back, while others she has to carry back. Not all of the ones that follow her stay, and Danny rehabilitates the injured and releases them when they're fully healed.

It's hectic, and busy, and frankly she loves it. Some of her rehabilitated beasts return to visit her, or to have their children somewhere on the island, or whatever it is they need to do.

She becomes a bit infamous for it. She goes to visit Dorathea once, and as she's walking through the streets she can hear some of the denizens whispering while she walks past.

"Is that her?"

"Her highness' friend? Yes--"

"--that's the one--"

"--Mother of monsters--"

Danny's not sure how to feel about that.

Although, she can't say she's opposed.

Danyal Al Ghul, Mother of monsters, raiser of beasts. It has a nice ring to it.

[haunting-venus]

enter, sandman

↳ neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader

content warnings | smut ( minors dni ), somnophilia, oral ( f ), praise and some dirty talk, desperate neteyam, masturbation ( m ), characters are aged up !

word count: 1886

notes | pretty light on the actual prompt but here is my first submission for romancing pandora ! day one — somnophilia, turned out pretty fluffy but who doesn’t love some pussywhipped neteyam, enjoy friends

na'vi dictionary | syil — meer deer ; olo’eyktan — male clan leader ; yawnetu — loved one / lover / beloved person ; tewng — loincloth

You and Neteyam had been circling each other your entire lives, opposing forces drawn to one another despite all your innate differences. You admired each other from afar for years, skirting looks and kind greetings eventually evolving into shared dinners and stolen touches beneath the eclipse.

It was new and terrifying, having the eyes of the future Olo’eyktan so filled with adoration and lust and hope whenever they laid on you.

When Neteyam finally approached you officially to ask for you to be his—in body, in soul, in life—you were sure the earth beneath you shook with the force of your love. You were euphoric, giddy with the prospect that the man you desired so fully from the time you were children wanted you as well.

Some questioned his choice, though it was always clear to you how well you fit in each other’s lives. You weren’t a skilled hunter or forager, but you had a kind heart and strong mind, making you perfect for teaching the younglings of the clan. Neteyam was a born warrior, a boy made of steel bones and gunpowder. Where he had to be strong and immovable, you could be adaptable and kind, giving each other a perfect balance in life.

Being bonded to Neteyam was a lot of pressure, no doubt. Some expected you to be perfect, while others criticized you for being weak, a never-ending pull at your heart. It was all easy to brush off when Neteyam’s strong hands caressed your shoulders.

It helped too that your chemistry grew indescribably as your relationship progressed. The two of you were crazy about each other, hardly capable of containing the heat and excitement you felt in your newly blossoming relationship.

His hand would often find your thigh throughout shared meals, inevitably ending with the two of you sneaking past the trees and with his head between your legs. You would visit him on his breaks from teaching, stealing kisses and teasing touches away from the eyes of the younger warriors. You were often teased by your friends about how you could not keep your hands from your betrothed for more than a minute.

It was part of what made the time apart so unbearably aching.

You knew he had to leave. The syil, a normally elusive creature, would be gathering for mating season in valleys a few days' ride away. The hunting party had been planned for weeks now, with Neteyam at its head. It was a great stride in showing the clan his leadership skills, the longest hunt beyond the village he would lead on his own. The reap of the hunt would be great, sustaining the clan through many days and providing countless pelts for the cold season ahead. 

It did little to stave the emptiness in your heart or between your legs.

It grew lonely at night, especially in the cold drizzles of the rainy season when the hearth fires fizzled. You tucked yourself beneath woven mats, huddling against the soft fibers for warmth as your body craved the solid weight of Neteyam behind you. After what felt like hours of restless turning and shivering, a lonely sleep crept over your mind.

A heated groan rouses you from your slumber.

Your fingers tighten along the edge of the woven mats, flung to the side to expose you to the night’s chill, cooling against your heated skin. Your hair sticks against the curve of your neck, wet with sweat. There was an insistent nudge between your legs and a weight at the bone of your hip, pressing you firmly into your sleeping mats.

Light of the eclipse shadows across your home, dimly illuminating Neteyam’s face where it lay nestled between your thighs. There was a flush high on his cheeks, pupils dilated to show only a thin ring of gold as he gazed upon you. A small moan rumbles across the sensitive flesh of your folds as he notices you blink awake.

“‘Teyam-what the, oh-” Sleep still reached at the edge of your consciousness, muddling your thoughts as an easy pleasure trickled through you. Your hips move before your mind catches up, rutting towards Neteyam’s wide tongue as you moan. You could hardly think clearly with Neteyam’s tongue on you when you were fully awake, now your brain felt completely like mush.

“I’m sorry, yawnetu, I could not wait. You looked so sweet-'' His voice was weak and breathy, and you vaguely noticed one hand snuck beneath his tewng to palm at his cock.

Fuck, he feels so good and so right between you, but when did he get here? When did this start? Great Mother, why did you like it? You could see him in your mind’s eye, tired and worn from the long hunting trek, overcome with such want for you that waking you barely crossed his mind. In your head, he was needy and wanting, thinking of nothing but how he couldn’t stand to be apart from the wet heat between your legs for another second. The thought made you indescribably hot, legs trembling at the voracious way he gripped your hips as he dipped his tongue down into your entrance.

Your tewng hangs half-off your left thigh, rumbled and glistening with either saliva or your juices. Neteyam’s lips are soft and wet, trailing lightly between your slick folds. You try to gather your thoughts between the jolts of pleasure, bringing one hand down to stroke across your lover’s head. “Y-you’re back early.”

“The rains were too heavy, left early.” His fingers massage the plush of your thighs, trailing back up to trace the line of glowing freckles across your stomach. You squirm at the feather-light touches, inching your hips back to his panting lips. “Haah-such a nice present waiting for me at home, yawnetu, all spread out and waiting. Did you miss me?”

“I-I did, I—shit ‘Teyam—missed your mouth, your cock, please.”

“I know, baby, I know, let me give it to you.” His mouth fell back on you, slow licks on the sensitive skin around your labia, skirting around your hole and dipping into the junction of your thigh before darting against your clit. He breathed heavily from his nose, inhaling your scent as your legs tightening around the sides of his head increased the throb in his cock.

Your moans increase as his wide shoulders bully your thighs further apart, tongue giving wide and strong strokes against your clit before sucking it between his shining lips. You can feel the heat growing and tightening at the base of your stomach, fluttering against the dip of his thumb into your cunt. 

The slick sounds of your arousal weave in between the wet sounds of his moans, hot and yearning as they vibrate through your clit and into your bones. You can vaguely hear the sound of him working his own cock, imagining the way the tip peeks between his thick fingers to leak onto himself as he devours you. He always looked so pretty when he worked himself over, eyes blown and pleading.

The movements of his tongue quicken with the pace of your whining moans, finally moving to rub firm circles over your clit that have you keening into his hot touch. Your fingers card through his braids, using the grip to keep his mouth firm against your mound. As if he had any plans of moving.

“That’s-fuck-feels good, baby, but-want your cock,” You mewl, fingers tightening around the back of his head. Your voice hitches with every labored breath, pussy clenching on emptiness with every beat of your racing heart and it’s been so long, your body craves for him.

“Just wait, yawnetu, soon. I-I need to taste you.” He mumbles the promise into your folds, gasping and panting into you with each tug at his cock. His face is near rutting into you, nose bumping at the top of your pussy and inhaling deep breaths of your sweat and slick. “Thought of it the w-whole time, just like this. Let me.” 

The deep breathiness of his voice has arousal shooting through you. You know neither of you will probably be awake long enough to see through on that promise, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s enough to have him here, now, delighting himself so fully with eating at you that it has him desperate and breathless. His moans rumble through you, whispering praises and encouragements into the wetness of your core as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Neteyam.” You have one hand on the back of his head, the other gripped tightly into the woven mats as pleasure begins to crest over you. “I-I’m gonna-”

“Yeah? Come on, yawnetu.” You swear you see a devilish grin at the corner of his lips before your eyes clench shut in pleasure. 

Your orgasm rolls through you with a gasping breath, legs tightening around Neteyam’s shoulders as pleasure runs wet and hot from deep in your stomach to every edge of your body. Neteyam groans against you when you tighten under him, tongue swirling softly against your clit until you’re twitching against him, voice heavy with pants of his name and begging him to just get over here already.

Neteyam’s hand is still gripping at the meat of your hip when you open your eyes, now merely inches from your face as he holds himself above you. His hand moves fast and tight on his hard cock, eyes hooded in pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty-haah-got me so close, baby.”

His deep blue skin is shining under the eclipse with perspiration and your slick, the little freckles over his cheeks and shoulders glimmering lightly. You let your eyes sleepily rove over his wide shoulders and muscled chest, taking in every inch of how fucking good he looks above you.

Your eyes are glassy with pleasure as you gaze up at him with wet lashes, each brush of him against you sending you twitching in sensitivity. “I want it on me, please Neteyam.”

His eyes are unfocused as he comes apart above you, ears twitching and mouth falling open in wet pants. He burrows his head into the crook of your neck as he gets close, licking feverishly at the junction of your neck, the wet head of his cock bumping against your belly.

You reach behind his head again, bringing his forehead to rest against yours, eyes drawn on his face as he groans with each stroke. Your fingers brush along his largest braid close to the skull before rubbing your thumb firmly against the base. His eyes roll slightly as he gasps into your mouth, hips spasming unevenly as his orgasm wracks through him. His hand tightens on your hip, tip of his cock rubbing against you as he empties himself onto you.

The heat in you is slow and lazy, something that will creep into your dreams to be dealt with in the morning. Your bones feel heavy with Neteyam’s heat cuddling up next to you, mind already fuzzy with edges of sleep.

Neteyam’s face is lax in pleasure, nuzzling into the side of your body and pulling you taut to him. You can already hear his breathing evening out with the beginnings of sleep as he mumbles into your hair. “Missed you, yawnetu.”

“Welcome home, ‘Teyam.”

tags | @tallulah477 ; @eywaite @neteyamsoare

[askinkiskarma]

ꜰᴀʟꜱᴇ ɢᴏᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪ: ɪ'ʟʟ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ

pairing: dilf!Jake Sully x (f)human/avatar!reader

synopsis: It took a lot of time and advancements, but, with the humans' return to Pandora 8 years ago, and thanks to the constant raids of the Omaticaya, the scientists managed to make you and Spider an Avatar. Unlike him, though, you know nothing about and want nothing to do with it, and when your struggle to adapt becomes too overbearing, Jake decided to take matters into his own hands.

this story will contain an unhealthy, co-dependent relationship, and dark themes (smut, mental health, death, violence, infidelity), so pls read at your own discretion.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst, age-gap (23 vs 43), pet names.

wc: 4.5k words

a/n: hi besties, and welcome to my first jake series! i have had this series in my mind for so so long, and it feels good to bring it to life finally. i am excited to get back into writing - i needed a little time to recharge after monster in me, and take a break and actually sleep and live my life hahahaha. anyway, i hope you enjoy this story, i'm so excited to write it and see where it takes me! xx

ps: this story will move perspectives and timelines a lott, so i hope it's not too confusing but pls do let me know if it is and i'll figure something out xx

replies and reblogs are massively appreciated, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: tanhi - bioluminescent freckles, tsamsiyu - warrior, tawtute - human

series masterlist (x)

I want you to know, I’m a mirrorball I’ll show you every version of yourself tonight

It was excruciating, the pain. It was never-ending, never relenting, it was enough to warrant the current position you found yourself in, curled up on your bed, knees brought close to your chest, hands grasping at your worn-down pyjamas, that much like everything else in this room, smelled like him, felt like him, was imbued with his presence and the memories he’s left that you’d never be able to forgive or forsake. Glossed-over eyes moved slowly through your room, at all the little trinkets you now had that you didn’t just a few months, all of them sharp and painful as they felt like they were digging painfully in you, leaving cuts and bruises in your already broken heart. Eventually, your gaze settled on a feather you were given the first day in your Avatar body, and it was an appropriate place to stop, as this was when it all began - this whole mess, that you were still debating whether it was worth it, worth all this, but which, at the time, was a pure and innocent new start, in a new body, in a new life.

I'll get you out on the floor Shimmering beautiful And when I break it's in a million pieces

“Come on, honey, it’s late already. You know life in the village starts early.”

The dragging of your feet did very little to make you appear more enthusiastic than you were feeling currently, and Norm sighed as he took it your deflated predisposition. It should be a happy time. You knew that. How many people can say that got a new chance, at a new life, on this planet that felt weirdly in between a home and a prison? A new chance to belong - the first one, actually. A chance to thrive and to experience this world the way it was meant to be experienced, the way that the natives experienced it. And yet, a few weeks in, you still felt like a complete stranger in a body you couldn’t recognise, in a culture that has never been your own, in a village that has never accepted you, that never ceased to look at you and see through you, right to the flimsy core of insecurities and self-doubts that plagued you constantly, that followed you everywhere you went, like a shadow in a dimly-lit room.

You looked across the room where the other neuro-link pod was being prepped, and next to it stood the only other young, human, adult on Pandora - your brother for all intents and purposes, the boy who you loved always, but hated in the moment, as you watched his lively and animated body language, practically beaming with anticipation. Spider, unlike you, settled in his new taller, bluer, shinier body almost immediately - a born acrobat, a made warrior, even before the Avatars were complete. He had no such compulsions, no shame or guilt, no embarrassment or anxiety, no feelings of inadequacy or imposter syndrome, just a pure, unadulterated joie de vivre and unquenchable fear of missing out. He got everything he’s ever wanted with that Avatar, and unlike you, he didn’t seem willing to squander the opportunity. You knew you should be more like him, and you were trying. The effort just wasn’t enough to overthrow the paralysing fear you felt every time you stepped foot in that village. You wondered if it ever will.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, doing your very best to ignore the racket coming from just a few pods over, you allowed Norm to close the lid on top of your caged body, doing your very best to clear your head of the screaming voice that got louder by the second, the harder you tried. You’ll never make it. You will never be one of the people.

Hush When no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

Life in the village did indeed start early, and while you walked away from Hell’s Gate and through the thick forest that surrounded you, you could already hear faint sounds coming from the general direction of the Omaticaya settlement, a dead giveaway people were preparing for what the day would inevitably bring, from training in the healing practices of the Tsa’hik or the warrior skills of the tsamsiyu, it was the relentless will to improve and contribute to the overall wellness of each other and their planet that fuelled Na’vi every day.

Soon enough, the carefully crafted tents came into view, each one unique to the owner, with pieces of bone or hides that gave it a personal, intimate appeal, and it was easy enough, once you knew the people, to be able to tell who each tent belonged to. You smiled as your eyes fixed on one tent in particular, small and understated, despite who it was inhabiting it - Neteyam, future Olo’eyktan, never found any use for unnecessary embellishments, be it on his person or any of his belongings, always preferring to keep the showing off to the actual battle or training, his impressive skill set and his ability to thrive in every challenge his brightest adornment. When he came out of it, like he could sense you were near, your smile widened taking him in, in all his tall, blue, muscular beauty. He was a handsome young man, the perfect mix between Neytiri and… him. He used to look more like his mother when he was younger, but now, all of 23 years old, he was more and more Jake with each passing day, and the thought both intrigued and scared you, almost in equal parts.

It intrigued you because, well… because there was something special about Jake, there always has been. Not just because he was the first and only human to do the consciousness transfer, to be accepted into the clan, to become one of the people, or that he was Toruk Makto, one of only 6 to have ever existed; not because he was Olo’eyktan, and a revered warrior and leader… but because he was him. He was kind and patient, he was sweet and caring, he was funny and fun… he was everything.

On the other hand, it was for the exact same reasons that Neteyam’s resemblance to his dad scared you. Because every time you looked at him, you saw Jake, and the feelings you harboured for him since you were old enough to pay attention, that dwindled in time, were mingled with the deep familial affection you felt for Neteyam, who has been your best friend since you were old enough to... well, have memories. You didn’t want your relationship with him to be marred by feelings you couldn’t, wouldn’t ever feel for him, you didn’t want your history erased by the possibility of more, not when it would be wrong - not when, at your core, you would just settle for him because you couldn’t get the person you really wanted.

“Oi! A little late for the mighty warrior to be coming out of his tent, isn’t it?”

Neteyam snickered as he noticed you and Spider approaching, and shook his hand in Spider’s direction.

“Why is she this mean only to me?”

Spider shrugged and patted Neteyam on the shoulder simpathetically.

“Girls, man… Am I right? Anyway, going to find Lo’ak and Kiri. See you guys on the training grounds.”

Hush I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

As Spider took his leave, almost skipping to the Tsa’hik’s tent, where he knew Kiri would be, you started walking quietly, anxiety rising in your chest with each step taken towards the grounds, where you’d once again, as you have for the past few weeks, prove to yourself and everyone around you that you weren’t made for this - the fighting, the battles, the wielding of death machines, be it a gun or a bow, none of it was yours to take, yours to concur. You were made for the labs, for the quiet, analytical lifestyle. You were made for wielding a guitar, and playing it until the strings broke, you were made for daydreams and illusions and fantasies you could only fathom yourself part of, for a happier, easier world that would allow you to be all of those things without incursions. Alas, the world was not what you envisioned for yourself when you were younger, and with this great opportunity, came sacrifices you hoped time would lessen and sweeten, and turn them into blessings in disguise.

“Are you ready for today?”

“Does that make a difference?”

Neteyam’s sigh was answer enough for you. He tried to help, he really did. He went above and beyond for you and you were grateful. He was a patient teacher and a great friend, and his determination, as always, came at a cost, the cost of another burden he had to carry, another person he had to parent and take care of, and while it was not lost on you, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

“You’re going to be okay. You just have to give yourself time to grow. You can’t compare yourself with Spider, who’s been in the village with us his whole life. It’s going to take you time and effort, but you can do this, Tawte. And I’ll be here, at every step, ready to catch you if you fall.”

You smiled a little, slightly distracted, as you always were, by his sweet nickname, and your thoughts flowed gently at the memories that stirred in you whenever he said it, at the way the first word he ever uttered as a babe was a slurred version of a word he heard all the time from his mother: tawtute... human. From her mouth, it was laced with poison and disdain, but not from Neteyam's, who loved you, ever since you were young, who accepted you for who you were. Tawte was a gentle reminder of how far you've come, and how the familial love between the two of you hasn't faltered through time, but only blossomed and deepened, much to your eternal gratitude.

And they called off the circus, burned the disco down When they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me

Your eyes, hidden behind a sea of glossy tears settled on the next item, the broken tip of an arrow, that you kept since that day, when you somehow did so poorly in bow practice, you managed to break an incredibly sturdy arrow, much to Spider and Lo'ak's amusement, and much to your deep dismay. You thought how about your feelings of inadequacy were exacerbated by the Olo'eyktan's watchful eyes, who observed you intently the whole time, and how that inadvertently set everyone's gaze on you. So many eyes - watching, judging...fearful; so many words - whispered and snickered, and it hurt. It all hurt. But then... he changed everything, not just in that moment, so far removed from you now, but for the rest of your life, with just a few simple words.

“What?” the shock couldn't be shaken off your face, no matter how hard you tried. You knew you needed to get a grip of your emotions, but that was always easier said than done for a girl who was aptly described her whole life as "wearing her heart on her sleeve".

“Ouch, kid. You’re hurting my feelings. I would have liked to think anyone would be honoured to be personally trained by the Olo’eyktan, but I think I’ve been humbled.”

“No, Jake… of-of course I am, I just think… your efforts are better spent on someone else, someone… who’s worthy of it.”

It was minuscule, the change, but it was there - his eyes, his smile had an edge to them, that wasn't there before. He wasn't happy with your words, and yet, he remained calm and maintained the easy, outgoing, friendly nature of his tone.

“How about you let me decide what my efforts are better spent on, kid?”

That was enough to shut you up, but when he noticed the purple tinge in your cheeks, and the way your gaze dropped in shame, his expression softened. He brought a hand to your face, his thumb grazing your chin so that you'd look up at him, and you hoped the shudder that tried you went unnoticed to him, and to the rest of the clan.

“Here’s the deal. I think part of the reason you are having such a hard time is because you’re here, in this village you’ve never truly been a part of, with so many watchful eyes on you. You feel the pressure of performing well in front of the people, in front of my kids… in front of Spider. You shouldn’t have to do that. So, my solution is simple: you and I go for a few days’ hunt. I will teach you the basics, like I learnt when I first joined the Omaticaya. This way you get to relax a little, get to remove yourself from this place for a while and enjoy the beauty of Pandora, and who knows, kid? Maybe you'll find it's easier to be a part of us than you ever could have imagined. What do you say, mm?"

I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try

How could you have said no to such an offer? Even now, with all this hindsight, standing on the edge of a cliff with so much room beneath you to fall, with one foot on the ledge and the other on a banana fruit peel, able to look at the situation from a vantage point you only got with all the months of history you've amassed, even now... you still would say yes. Because no matter the pain and the hurt that now seeped into you like rain through the cracks in the withered, dry ground, soaking into every facet of it... just like the rain, his presence and memory also gave you life, a purpose, a way to go on. And you wouldn't give that up, not while there was still breath in your lungs.

So you said yes. And you left, that same day, on the back on his beautiful ikran, for a long ride that would take you somewhere deep in lands you've never experienced before, away from whispers and prying eyes, away from the doubt and the fear. As you were flying far above the world you've known and loved your whole life, that scared you your whole life, you couldn't help but think of what Jake was doing, and feel grateful for it. You thought about how it only consolidated the way you've always viewed him, as a great warrior, a great father, a great mentor... a great man. You thought about your crush, and how it embarrassed you as a teenager, and how you couldn't look him in the eye whenever he came to the lab and asked you a question, how you couldn't be around him without thinking you're gonna catch fire. That was long ago.

It passed, you thought. The crush, slightly weird and completely unattainable, passed through time. Yet here you stood, bare back, yet another foreign feeling you were trying to get used to, flush against his muscular chest, his palm protectively wrapped around your abdomen, and somehow, you forgot to take in the beauty of this world you’ve never seen from such a high vantage point, forgot to enjoy the fact you were literally flying, the air flowing through your luscious, thick hair… you forgot to breathe.

“You okay there, kid? Tell me if this is overwhelming, we can take a break.”

“N-no. I’m alright…Thank you.”

“Good girl.”

I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me

Jake struggled to rationalise how things could have ever ended up this way. How did this happen? A few short months ago, it seemed, his life was... normal, or as normal as life could be in the middle of an ongoing territorial war with a species that was once his own, that he now disowned, that he now despised most days. Still. Normal. The same way it had been since he arrived on Pandora, since he mated with Neytiri, since he had one kid, and then another, and another...

He's known you since you were born. He took pity on you, much like he did Spider, for the cruelness of the Universe, for whatever it took for you to be born on this planet he loved, but knew was inhospitable to those who weren't made for it. Aliens. That was about the extent of your similarities to Spider, though. Unlike him, you were sweet, docile, quiet. You never came out to the village, and the few times you did, you just stood in a corner, on some tree stump, clinging to Neteyam like a little lost puppy.

How did it end up this way? It was wrong, it was all wrong. He knew it in his heart he had to stop, and he's been trying... so hard, it was all so hard. In these months, despite his mind telling him otherwise, urging him to consider all he stood to lose, he still ended up putting his life, everything he's built up on the line for you, doing things that frightened him, ashamed him, embarrassed him, but that he couldn't stop doing because it was you. And you were everything, and the way you made him feel was everything. And it all started that night.

The training was not necessarily any less painful than it had been, but he was right - it was easier. He was a good teacher, you told him. You say you understood now where Neteyam got it from, his penchant for imparting wisdom in a calm, collected and patient manner. He went through all the basics, and after a good few hours, he felt like you were almost... relaxed. By eclipse, you were hunched over food that he was preparing over fire, while practicing your Na'vi - the only thing you felt comfortable enough to call yourself good in, and for the first time since you got your Avatar, you looked... happy. You needed this and he knew it. You didn't even know it for yourself, but he knew. And thinking about it, and him, made you blurt out a secret you held in your soul for years and years, before your mind had enough time to talk you out of it.

“I used to have a crush on you, you know?” You chuckled a little, and Jake was fascinated by the sound, which sounded less like a laugh and more like bells chiming in the wind, and by the purple tinge of your cheeks as you confessed something that he couldn’t believe his ears, that were now pushed back flat in shock.

“You used to have a crush on me?”

His tone amused you even further, it seemed, because you brought a hand to your mouth to stifle the sound Jake felt a sudden desire to continue hearing for the rest of his life.

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I don’t know, kid, just… never thought out of everyone in this village, and the labs, people your own age, including my kids and Spider, you’d ever have a crush on an old man like me.” He chuckles his own rugged, awkward laugh and looks over at you, the way he couldn’t stop himself doing, it seemed, to gauge for a reaction that he didn’t know whether he wanted to see.

“I think that was part of the charm, actually.” As you catch yourself talking, you stop and turn, the tinge in your cheeks no longer a tinge but a splash of violent colour as you pat yourself aggressively with both hands, to release some of the heat that pooled unwelcome in your face. “I… I really should not… say things.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused and intrigued at the new development. “So you like ‘em older, huh, kid? Always the shy and quiet ones, ain’t that so?”

You retreat further in yourself at the way he just called you out, unconsciously making yourself smaller by bringing your knees in and wrapping your arms around them, your face buried in between your legs in embarrassment and you let out a small groan. You couldn’t believe this was happening to you. First time in your life you were fully alone with this great man, this man that is a legend, that will have history books written about him even back on Earth, this man that knew so much and achieved enough to last lifetimes and instead of learning from him, instead of doing what you came here to do to begin with, here you are, running your mouth faster than your brain could catch up, making sure you would never be able to look him in the eyes ever again.

“Are you still playing that guitar of yours? You used to drive Neytiri crazy with that thing when you were young.”

“Yeah, I still play, just, I keep it to the rec centre mostly.”

“Why?”

“I just... don’t want to bother anyone.”

You sounded sad, too sad. He saw your eyes swimming with tears and he cringed at the way he was unable to make you feel fully comfortable around him. This shouldn't be this hard.

“Ah, kid… you can play in the village. The Omaticaya love music, they’re called the Flute Clan for cryin’ out loud. They just need time.”

“It’s been 23 years.”

Jake didn’t push anymore, not when you were right. It’s been a long enough time, but some things… some things don’t get better with time. Jake’s always hated that stupid old saying anyway.

“Y’know… I play a little guitar, too.” He scoffs a little as he thinks more about it. “Well, used to play. Probably not any good anymore, but at some point, I used to be.”

Your eyes shoot to him and the glimmer in them makes Jake’s mind come to a standstill - they were so beautiful. You were so beautiful.

“Really? That’s amazing!” And just like that, your previous outburst was swiftly forsaken and forgotten, the new piece of information far too exciting for you to dwell on anything else. “How come I’ve never heard you? You should play for us sometime.”

Jake smiled a sorrowful smile that stopped short of reaching his eyes. “Just… haven’t had the chance.”

There were a lot of reasons Jake hasn’t done so many of the things that used to bring him joy when he was human. But ya win some, ya lose some, that was always his philosophy for life anyway. He had so much to be grateful for in this life, so much more than he ever thought possible for a grunt like him. The Universe has been more than generous in compensating him for a lifetime of resentment and regrets, and so if he had to give certain things up, that he did so without thinking twice about it.

“So how did you learn?”

“My old man taught me, probably the only thing he ever taught me, unless you count how to run a backdoor draw while high off your ass.” Jake lets out a humourless laugh, enjoying the look of confusion plastered all over your face, and the way your tanhì seemed to shine brighter when you ruminated over something in your head. Your nose crinkles a little, as his words register fully in your ears and they twitch, and the humourless laugh quickly evolves in a warm, inward smile.

You were beautiful, he ends up acknowledging yet again, taking in all the mannerisms that somehow escaped him all these years.

“A what?”

Jake chuckles, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”

“Did you not… get along with your dad?”

Jake finds himself, for the first time in years, too many years, thinking about his dad and his life as a young kid back on Earth, and all the shitty memories that came along with that thought, memories he’s tried to repress most of his life. He catches yet another sigh before it escapes him, a habit he’s seemed to have quickly picked up in your presence, as you asked questions most people never did, questions he didn’t want to answer, questions he wanted nothing more than to be asked.

“My dad was a mean ol’ dog, who liked women and booze more than he ever liked Tommy or me. I could never find it in me to care when he died.” That was morbid, he recognises, but it needed to be said. Something about you just makes him want to just… confess things he shouldn’t be feeling, and shouldn’t be saying out loud, and yet here he was, heart thumping and palms sweating almost nervously, and the word vomit didn’t seem like it was anywhere close to over.

“He made mean sloppy joes, though. And he played the guitar like he was born with a six-string in his hands.” There were some good memories. The memory of his dad teaching young squirt Jake Future Days, his old, cigarette-imbued hoarse voice singing the lyrics that still had the power to bring tears to his eyes… that was one of the good ones.

You smiled as he spoke, a warm, inviting smile, that made the breath catch in his lungs and begged him to spill all the secrets that he tried so hard to bury deep inside, and he feels his stomach drop when he realises the feelings you invoked in him, for the first time in his life, were no longer ones he could justify or explain, but ones that demanded to be felt.

The silence was heavy and awkward after that, or so he thought, and he watched you as you ruminated over his words, as you nibbled at the fish he managed to catch while teaching you the basics of fishing. He shouldn't have said it, any of it. What the hell does he think he's doing, going around confessing the depths of his somewhat bitter soul to a kid who knew nothing about life, and who shouldn't have to carry his burdens to begin with. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Maybe being alone with you... was a mistake.

"You should go to sleep, kid. There's a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and the sooner we're done, the sooner your life can go back to normal."

You nodded gently and obliged.

“I think you’re lying.” You say, as you turn your back to him, closing your eyes and preparing yourself to return to your human body, as soon as sleep would find you. “I think you cared. I think you still care. And it’s ok to care. Sometimes… people are horrible and they suck… and we love them anyway. And I think that’s what makes humans special… and good.”

Jake was too stunned to be able to say anything else, as he stared mouth-agape at your back.

“Sleep well, Jake.”

Maybe he did lie. Maybe life will never go back to normal again and the thought... the thought terrified him.

Because I'm a mirrorball I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself Tonight

taglist: @yagirlheree @mashiromochi @deepdarktower @tojisleftarm @childofgod-05 @youngpersonaathletebear @cinetrix @hinataashoyos @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @misscaller06 @v1l-ismissing @legendarynoodlebowl @analuw @imjustcal @the-fractured-eye @pandoraontop @sweetirilly @kouyoumarryme @blxkstar @ok-boke @myheartfollower

[quitealotofsodapop]

I actually adore the idea of Wukong disguising himself as a mortal and working at Pigsy's while also discovering his own interests outside of being the Monkey King. Dude's been stuck in one job and one position for like, 2000 years, a job he presumably had since he was a KID if you think about how old he must have been when he became the Monkey King. And his responsibilities only increased as he grew older and suddenly he wasn't just the Monkey King, he was Sun Wukong, the Sage Equal to Heaven. The Prisoner of the Golden Hoop. The Eldest of Tripitaka's Pilgrims. The Hero of the Mortal Realm. All these titles and responsibilities just piled up onto this one monkey man who honestly just wanted to be able to live peacefully with his subjects and eat peaches all day.

That's not even getting into the trauma of the war against Heaven, his punishment in the furnace, the 500 years in the mountain, prejudice and abuse from both mortals and celestial beings and other demons, the Journey, and the I weren't trauma of being immortal and having to watch all your lov3d ones die.

Throughout his life; Sun Wukong is used to having so many names. There's an entire research article about it.

Branded with the birthname "Tianchan Shihou" in the Ledger of the Dead - now a literal deadname since he's crossed it out. The word "Shihou" being a privilege only his dearest moonlight is allowed to utter as a petname. He's been The Monkey King, he's been the Bimawen, The Great Sage Equal to Heaven, The Youngest Brother of the Brotherhood, Taiyi Sanxian/"Leisurely Immortal of the Great Monad" or the "Bogus Immortal" in his time as a celestial layabout. Sun Xingzhe/"Pilgrim Sun" during his Journey, and granted the titles "The Great Sage Steel Muscles and Iron Bones", and the "Victorious Fighting Buddha" by the Tang Emperor and the Buddha respectively when his Journey was done.

But after a long, long, long life with all those names, they start to feel more like filler than substance in his life. And certain names that actually meant something died with his friends or his mate many centuries ago.

But now in this "secret identity" he's adapted?

He's just Qi Wu.

Qi Wu; kitchen assistant and delivery driver for Pigsy's Noodles. Owner of an art history degree he worked day and night to achieve at the University.

Qi Wu; mate/husband to Mihou ("maiden" surname Xingjun), the most beautiful and talented theatre preformer in all of China (in Wu's opinion).

Qi Wu; father to a boundless gaggle of demons and alike. The eldest a tall scaly adoptee with lotus flowers in his hair. Firstborn a boy with a wild grin like his own. A firey girl brought in from a tragedy. A little stray shadow taken in from the cold. An impulsive former student turned dutiful son. A pair of twins the visual clone of their Bama but with their father's endless mischief. And Wu's mate tells predictions of more children, of both blood and adoption, in the future.

Qi Wu; baker of the best peach buns, and teller of the worst jokes according to his kids. Most insufferable, but impossible to live without according to his mate/husband. Most trusted employee to his boss/father-figure. An untapped well of knowledge to his teacher/other father-figure. Needs to get more sleep and to keep up attending counseling for his ptsd according to his buff fishy best friend.

Qi Wu; recognised by many as someone who is of importance but unable to place whenever he delivers to the village of monkey demons outside of the city. Only very few trusted stalwarts given the knowledge of just who the delivery man is to them all.

Qi Wu; golden red-brown curly fur littered with old scars and burns. Eyes a deep red and gold not uncommon to demonkind, but a rarity to primates. A pink heart-shaped face marking fractured by a long pressure scar that encircles his forehead, hidden from view either his untamable ginger mane or with a headkerchief he uses while in the kitchen.

Qi Wu; somehow knows many infamous demons and celestial-types alike from his mysterious past. Fears dogs, being on stage, and repetitive chanting.

Qi Wu, a man/monkey yao happy to go home and spend time with his family at the end if the day.

Qi Wu; someone Sun Wukong has never felt like before.

A person.

[asfateentertwines]

Futures

Neteyem and Ao'nung lead the Metkayina

Ao'nung becomes the Ole'kytan of his clan with Neteyam as his mate

Neteyam always planned to go back to the Omaticaya but he finds his home is with Ao'nung

It hurts him the most of his siblings, the forest always feeling like home, but he brings his culture to the oceans too

He and Spider cultivate and explore the forests along the coast

They aren't the same, but he helps them to expand

They create homes there where a few immigrants will eventually settle, but they also make themselves a little home in the trees

It's much like the one he grew up in and he and his siblings each have a hammock there

It's their safe place as a family

Ao'nung is his clan leader but he's this right hand, it's also the way they officially merge/ally their clans

The two have two kids

They have an oldest boy and a younger daughter, a parallel they both snicker at

Their boy takes after Ao'nung in personality but Neteyam physically. He's headstrong and stubborn, a trouble maker in a way that reminds Neteyam of Lo'ak

Still, they both work really hard so that he doesn't end up with the same pressure they both grew up with

Having an oldest son brought up a lot of painful memories but they work really hard to break the cycle

It takes a lot of healing but they get there

Their daughter, on the other hand, is a very laid back, very relaxed personality

Not much phases her

She's a strong diplomat but truthfully has little motivation to take on leadership, she's a complete opposite to her Dads but a refreshing reminder that war is over

She makes them slow down and enjoy their time again

They joke a lot that Ewya gave them their children to heal them just as much as they were to raise them

Spider mates Rotxo young, they're the second pair to officiate their relationship (Lo'ak and Tsireya are first)

Spider works a lot in dealing with the remaining humans post-war

All soldiers are forced back to Earth under threat of death. It's a scary change to Na'vi culture, but Jake ensures it's a must. The citizens of the colonies are treated similarly, the only exception being those with children

They're allowed the raise their children on Pandora until they can be sent back or they're to leave immediately with their children left behind

This is where is hurts Spider the most as it drudges up bad memories, but still, it's a must

He works in managing those sent back and those remaining. He helps them to adapt to Pandora and understand before they're sent to Earth

Similarly, he helps the fostered children left behind to understand the world they've been left on

It's coincidentally how he and Rotxo get their first daughter

Anea is the second child of the next generation and the second human born on Pandora. She becomes one of three born there. Spider and Rotxo adopt her at about 6 months

Their next children won't be for another 6 or so years when they adopt two Ash na'vi boys.

Spider becomes very close to the Ash clans during the war and they're the sons of a dear friend that dies in a skirmish a few years after the war (the end of the war doesn't necessarily bring immediate peace)

The boys take some time to adapt to their new lives and parents, but soon they have a little family of 5

The older boy is a lot like Neteyam and Ao'nungs oldest and they bond quickly, but the younger is much shyer

He becomes attached to Rotxo and so Rotxo often has to work with the younger boy as his shadow

Their last child is several years later and is a little metkayina girl. She's a lot like Tuk was and finishes off their little family

Spider spends a lot of time helping the younger children of the village and teaches them about Ewya with Kiri since he's unable to do some of the typical jobs

still, he works as a diplomat and helps Neteyam in exploring the coast

Rotxo becomes a warrior and works closely with Ao'nung as another level of support. He's a warrior and a diver, but volunteers at the cook fires regularly

Kiri is the last to mate but the first to settle into her calling

She takes after her birth mother as a teacher

Although she stays with the Metkayina, she spends many years traveling and visiting the other tribes. She helps them to connect with Ewya and explore the other cultures

When she settles, she mates to another Metkayina woman and raises a human son, the last human born on Pandora.

The child is slightly younger than Spider and Rotxo's Anea, but he is the last of his kind

She raises him with her mate but initially adopts him herself with her mate coming in when he's a few years old

Despite being able to fight and her experience in war, she doesn't lift her weapon again once the war finishes

She sets up schools her travels before settling down with her own, though she still goes on occasion to continue it on

She becomes a master storyteller and learns to be patient with the children, deciding to teach so that history won't repeat itself

Eventually, she also teaches about Earth

Her lessons cover anything and everything she can

She makes it her mission that stories will never be lost, not like when hometree fell

Lo'ak and Tsireya are the first couple to mate and the first to get together, much to Tonowari's disbelief

Tsireya becomes Tsahik and Lo'ak a warrior

It's a bit of chaos with them being mated and their older brothers being mated on top of also being Ole'kytan and Tsahik respectively but they make it work

They're probably the simplest couple and they just seem to fall into place

They have three girls, the oldest being an accidental pregnancy about a year into their relationship

All three are little menaces but both are absolutely wrapped around their fingers

The oldest has a few year age gap with the younger two but their youngest are barely a year a part

All three are very close and team up often with Spiders boys to cause trouble throughout the clan

Neteyam still has to clean up after his brothers and it seems the tradition passed onto his son with his cousins

They have a lot of trauma to heal from but they went through a lot of it together

They're one anothers rock

They boast about being the ones everyone goes to for relationship advice since they're been together so long

They were also the most experienced with babies aside from Rotxo because of Tsireya's youngest sibling

There was a brief period where Lo'ak had to lead the forest people for their father and it was probably the hardest part of their relationship

They were apart but also on opposite sides of handling it with Tsireya a healer and Lo'ak a fighter

In the end it did make them stronger though and it's what ended in their mating

[theblackbookofarkera]

Kausau

Deep within the verdant forests of Hypraxia, where ancient trees form cathedral-like canopies that filter the harsh equatorial sun, dwell the Kausau - a people as mysterious as they are feared. Their distinctive appearance, with skin so pale it seems to absorb no light at all, has led many to view them as living ghosts haunting the shadowed places of this predominantly black-skinned continent.

The Kausau's unique appearance stems from a hereditary condition that goes beyond mere albinism. Their skin possesses a strange, powdery quality that some scholars theorize may be an adaptation to their forest environment, while others suggest it results from generations of exposure to certain minerals in their sacred caves. Their eyes, unlike typical albinos, are said to be completely black, with no discernible iris or pupil, allowing them to see perfectly in the dim forest light.

Their society revolves around the worship of Juba-Saag, a deity they envision as a massive white-furred gorilla with obsidian teeth and eyes of burning coal. Unlike the refined religious practices of Hypraxia's great kingdoms, Kausau worship is primal and direct. Their priests, known as the Tooth-Marked, bear ritualistic scars said to be inflicted by Juba-Saag himself during their initiation in sacred caverns deep within the forest.

The Kausau practice a complex form of ritual cannibalism that has been greatly misunderstood by outsiders. They believe that consuming the flesh of worthy enemies transfers not just strength but wisdom and experience. This practice is highly ritualized, with specific parts of the body reserved for different members of their society based on their role and status. However, they consider it taboo to consume the flesh of those who die of natural causes or those they deem unworthy opponents.

Their settlements are remarkably well-hidden, built into the natural contours of the forest. They construct their dwellings in the spaces between massive tree roots or within hollow trunks, creating entire villages that can remain invisible even to those passing within yards of them. These settlements are connected by a network of trails marked with symbols that only the Kausau can read, allowing them to move through their territory while remaining unseen by outsiders.

The Kausau's relationship with the greater kingdoms of Hypraxia is complex. While they are indeed viewed with fear and suspicion by the "civilized" peoples, they also serve an important role as guardians of the deep forest. Many of Hypraxia's kingdoms quietly employ Kausau scouts and warriors when they need to navigate or gather intelligence in the more remote regions of the continent.

Their martial prowess is legendary, though poorly understood by outsiders. Kausau warriors paint themselves with white clay mixed with sacred herbs, making them nearly invisible in the dappled forest light. They fight using sophisticated ambush tactics and weapons designed specifically for their forest environment, including barbed spears that can be used both for hunting and climbing, and throwing knives that make no sound in flight.

The Kausau possess a rich oral tradition that includes not just their own history but detailed knowledge of the forest's ecology. They maintain complex relationships with various species of plants and animals, understanding ecological connections that have often proved valuable to Hypraxian naturalists brave enough to study with them. Their expertise with forest medicines is particularly renowned, though few outsiders have ever been allowed to learn their secrets.

Despite their fearsome reputation, the Kausau maintain strict ethical codes governing their interactions with both their environment and other peoples. They never hunt more than they need, whether for food or ritual purposes, and their cannibalistic practices follow rigid guidelines that prohibit the consumption of those who have not chosen to engage them in combat. They show remarkable respect for their enemies, believing that worthy opponents become part of their own strength through their rituals.

Their language is unique among Hypraxian peoples, incorporating sounds that mimic forest animals and what they claim are the voices of spirits. Linguistic scholars who have studied it suggest it may be one of the continent's oldest surviving languages, preserving elements of speech patterns that predate the rise of Hypraxia's current civilizations.

Among themselves, the Kausau maintain complex social structures based on both individual achievement and inherited status. Their society is divided into various "teeth" or social ranks, each associated with different aspects of Juba-Saag's mouth. Leadership typically falls to those who have achieved the rank of "Wisdom Tooth," requiring both martial prowess and deep spiritual understanding.

The Kausau's persistence as a distinct culture, despite pressures from expanding kingdoms and changing times, speaks to their remarkable adaptability. They have maintained their traditions while selectively engaging with the wider world on their own terms, proving far more sophisticated than the "barbarous" label assigned to them by outsiders would suggest.

In recent years, some of Hypraxia's more progressive scholars have begun to recognize the Kausau's rich cultural heritage and deep ecological knowledge, though such appreciation remains rare among the general population. The Kausau themselves appear largely unconcerned with how they are perceived, confident in their role as guardians of ancient ways and keepers of forest secrets that the "civilized" world has long forgotten.

Author’s note - I am going to finish out this years posts, I am already several weeks ahead of schedule. Come next year I am considering leaving, not stopping, just leaving this platform. I dislike it here for a myriad of reasons. If anyone has suggestions please let me know…

[mariacallous]

This story originally appeared on Grist and is part of the Climate Desk collaboration.

My small turboprop plane whirred low through thick clouds. Below me, St. Paul Island cut a golden, angular shape in the shadow-dark Bering Sea. I saw a lone island village—a grid of houses, a small harbor, and a road that followed a black ribbon of coast.

Some 330 people, most of them Indigenous, live in the village of St. Paul, about 800 miles west of Anchorage, where the local economy depends almost entirely on the commercial snow crab business. Over the past few years, 10 billion snow crabs have unexpectedly vanished from the Bering Sea. I was traveling there to find out what the villagers might do next.

The arc of St. Paul’s recent story has become a familiar one—so familiar, in fact, that I couldn’t blame you if you missed it. Alaska news is full of climate elegies now—every one linked to wrenching changes caused by burning fossil fuels. I grew up in Alaska, as my parents did before me, and I’ve been writing about the state’s culture for more than 20 years. Some Alaskans’ connections go far deeper than mine. Alaska Native people have inhabited this place for more than 10,000 years.

As I’ve reported in Indigenous communities, people remind me that my sense of history is short and that the natural world moves in cycles. People in Alaska have always had to adapt.

Even so, in the past few years I’ve seen disruptions to economies and food systems, as well as fires, floods, landslides, storms, coastal erosion, and changes to river ice—all escalating at a pace that’s hard to process. Increasingly, my stories veer from science and economics into the fundamental ability of Alaskans to keep living in rural places.

You can’t separate how people understand themselves in Alaska from the landscape and animals. The idea of abandoning long-occupied places echoes deep into identity and history. I’m convinced the questions Alaskans are grappling with—whether to stay in a place and what to hold onto if they can’t—will eventually face everyone.

I’ve given thought to solastalgia—the longing and grief experienced by people whose feeling of home is disrupted by negative changes in the environment. But the concept doesn’t quite capture what it feels like to live here now.

A few years ago, I was a public radio editor on a story out of the small Southeast Alaska town of Haines about a storm that came through carrying a record amount of rain. The morning started routinely—a reporter on the ground calling around, surveying the damage. But then, a hillside rumbled down, taking out a house and killing the people inside. I still think of it—people going through regular routines in a place that feels like home, but that, at any time, might come cratering down. There’s a prickly anxiety humming beneath Alaska life now, like a wildfire that travels for miles in the loamy surface of soft ground before erupting without notice into flames.

But in St. Paul, there was no wildfire—only fat raindrops on my windshield as I loaded into a truck at the airport. In my notebook, tucked into my backpack, I’d written a single question: “What does this place preserve?”

The sandy road from the airport in late March led across wide, empty grassland, bleached sepia by the winter season. Town appeared beyond a rise, framed by towers of rusty crab pots. It stretched across a saddle of land, with rows of brightly painted houses—magentas, yellows, teals—stacked on either hillside. The grocery store, school, and clinic sat in between them, with a 100-year-old Russian Orthodox church named for Saints Peter and Paul, patrons of the day in June 1786 when Russian explorer Gavril Pribylov landed on the island. A darkened processing plant, the largest in the world for snow crabs, rose above the quiet harbor.

You’re probably familiar with sweet, briny snow crab—Chionoecetes opilio—which is commonly found on the menus of chain restaurants like Red Lobster. A plate of crimson legs with drawn butter there will cost you $32.99. In a regular year, a good portion of the snow crab America eats comes from the plant, owned by the multibillion-dollar company Trident Seafoods.

Not that long ago, at the peak of crab season in late winter, temporary workers at the plant would double the population of the town, butchering, cooking, freezing, and boxing 100,000 pounds of snow crab per day, along with processing halibut from a small fleet of local fishers. Boats full of crab rode into the harbor at all hours, sometimes motoring through swells so perilous they’ve become the subject of a popular collection of YouTube videos. People filled the town’s lone tavern in the evenings, and the plant cafeteria, the only restaurant in town, opened to locals. In a normal year, taxes on crab and local investments in crab fishing could bring St. Paul more than $2 million.

Then came the massive, unexpected drop in the crab population—a crash scientists linked to record-warm ocean temperatures and less ice formation, both associated with climate change. In 2021, federal authorities severely limited the allowable catch. In 2022, they closed the fishery for the first time in 50 years. Industry losses in the Bering Sea crab fishery climbed into the hundreds of millions of dollars. St. Paul lost almost 60 percent of its tax revenue overnight. Leaders declared a “cultural, social, and economic emergency.” Town officials had reserves to keep the community’s most basic functions running, but they had to start an online fundraiser to pay for emergency medical services.

Through the windshield of the truck I was riding in, I could see the only cemetery on the hillside, with weathered rows of Orthodox crosses. Van Halen played on the only radio station. I kept thinking about the meaning of a cultural emergency. 

Some of Alaska’s Indigenous villages have been occupied for thousands of years, but modern rural life can be hard to sustain because of the high costs of groceries and fuel shipped from outside, limited housing, and scarce jobs. St. Paul’s population was already shrinking ahead of the crab crash. Young people departed for educational and job opportunities. Older people left to be closer to medical care. St. George, its sister island, lost its school years ago and now has about 40 residents.

If you layer climate-related disruptions—such as changing weather patterns, rising sea levels, and shrinking populations of fish and game—on top of economic troubles, it just increases the pressure to migrate. 

When people leave, precious intangibles vanish as well: a language spoken for 10,000 years, the taste for seal oil, the method for weaving yellow grass into a tiny basket, words to hymns sung in Unangam Tunuu, and maybe most importantly, the collective memory of all that had happened before. St. Paul played a pivotal role in Alaska’s history. It’s also the site of several dark chapters in America’s treatment of Indigenous populations. But as people and their memories disappear, what remains?

There is so much to remember.

The Pribilofs consist of five volcano-made islands—but people now live mainly on St. Paul. The island is rolling, treeless, with black sand beaches and towering basaltic cliffs that drop into a crashing sea. In the summer it grows verdant with mosses, ferns, grasses, dense shrubs, and delicate wildflowers. Millions of migratory seabirds arrive every year, making it a tourist attraction for birders that’s been called the “Galapagos of the North.”

Driving the road west along the coast, you might glimpse a few members of the island’s half-century-old domestic reindeer herd. The road gains elevation until you reach a trailhead. From there you can walk the soft fox path for miles along the top of the cliffs, seabirds gliding above you—many species of gulls, puffins, common murres with their white bellies and obsidian wings. In spring, before the island greens up, you can find the old ropes people use to climb down to harvest murre eggs. Foxes trail you. Sometimes you can hear them barking over the sound of the surf.

Two-thirds of the world’s population of northern fur seals—hundreds of thousands of animals—return to beaches in the Pribilofs every summer to breed. Valued for their dense, soft fur, they were once hunted to near extinction.

Alaska’s history since contact is a thousand stories of outsiders overwriting Indigenous culture and taking things—land, trees, oil, animals, minerals—of which there is a limited supply. St. Paul is perhaps among the oldest examples. The Unangax̂—sometimes called Aleuts—had lived on a chain of Aleutian Islands to the south for thousands of years and were among the first Indigenous people to see outsiders—Russian explorers who arrived in the mid-1700s. Within 50 years, the population was nearly wiped out. People of Unangax̂ descent are now scattered across Alaska and the world. Just 1,700 live in the Aleutian region.

St. Paul is home to one of the largest Unangax̂ communities left. Many residents are related to Indigenous people kidnapped from the Aleutian Islands and forced by Russians to hunt seals as part of a lucrative 19th-century fur trade. St. Paul’s robust fur operation, subsidized by slave labor, became a strong incentive for the United States’ purchase of the Alaska territory from Russia in 1867.

On the plane ride in, I read the 2022 book that detailed the history of piracy in the early seal trade on the island, Roar of the Sea: Treachery, Obsession, and Alaska’s Most Valuable Wildlife by Deb Vanasse. One of the facts that stayed with me: Profits from Indigenous sealing allowed the US to recoup the $7.2 million it paid for Alaska by 1905. Another: After the purchase, the US government controlled islanders well into the mid-20th century as part of an operation many describe as indentured servitude.

The government was obligated to provide for housing, sanitation, food, and heat on the island, but none were adequate. Considered “wards of the state,” the Unangax̂ were compensated for their labors in meager rations of canned food. Once a week, Indigenous islanders were allowed to hunt or fish for subsistence. Houses were inspected for cleanliness and to check for home brew. Travel on and off the island was strictly controlled. Mail was censored.

Between 1870 and 1946, Alaska Native people on the islands earned an estimated $2.1 million, while the government and private companies raked in $46 million in profits. Some inequitable practices continued well into the 1960s, when politicians, activists, and the Tundra Times, an Alaska Native newspaper, brought the story of the government’s treatment of Indigenous islanders to a wider world.

During World War II, the Japanese bombed Dutch Harbor and the US military gathered St. Paul residents with little notice and transported them 1,200 miles to a detention camp at a decrepit cannery in Southeast Alaska at Funter Bay. Soldiers ransacked their homes on St. Paul and slaughtered the reindeer herd so there would be nothing for the Japanese if they occupied the island. The government said the relocation and detention were for protection, but they brought the Unangax̂ back to the island during the seal season to hunt. A number of villagers died in cramped and filthy conditions with little food. But Unangax̂ also became acquainted with Tlingits from the Southeast region, who had been organizing politically for years through the Alaska Native Brotherhood/Sisterhood organization.

After the war, the Unangax̂ people returned to the island and began to organize and agitate for better conditions. In one famous suit, known as “the corned beef case,” Indigenous residents working in the seal industry filed a complaint with the government in 1951. According to the complaint, their compensation, paid in the form of rations, included corned beef, while white workers on the island received fresh meat. After decades of hurdles, the case was settled in favor of the Alaska Native community for more than $8 million.

“The government was obligated to provide ‘comfort,’ but ‘wretchedness’ and ‘anguish’ are the words that more accurately describe the condition of the Pribilof Aleuts,” read the settlement, awarded by the Indian Claims Commission in 1979. The commission was established by Congress in the 1940s to weigh unresolved tribal claims.

Prosperity and independence finally came to St. Paul after commercial sealing was halted in 1984. The government brought in fishermen to teach locals how to fish commercially for halibut and funded the construction of a harbor for crab processing. By the early ’90s, crab catches were enormous, reaching between 200 and 300 million pounds per year. (By comparison, the allowable catch in 2021, the first year of marked crab decline, was 5.5 million pounds, though fishermen couldn’t catch even that.) The island’s population reached a peak of more than 700 people in the early 1990s but has been on a slow decline ever since.

I’d come to the island in part to talk to Aquilina Lestenkof, a historian deeply involved in language preservation. I found her on a rainy afternoon in the bright blue wood-walled civic center, which is a warren of classrooms and offices, crowded with books, artifacts, and historic photographs. She greeted me with a word that starts at the back of the throat and rhymes with “song.”

“Aang,” she said.

Lestenkof moved from St. George, where she was born, to St. Paul when she was four. Her father, who was also born in St. George, became the village priest. She had long salt-and-pepper hair and a tattoo that stretched across both her cheeks made of curved lines and dots.  Each dot represents an island where a generation of her family lived, beginning with Attu in the Aleutians, then traveling to the Russian Commander Islands—also a site of a slave sealing operation—as well as Atka, Unalaska, St. George, and St. Paul.

“I’m the fifth generation having my story travel through those six islands,” she said.

Lestenkof is a grandmother, related to a good many people in the village and married to the city manager. For the past 10 years she’s been working on revitalizing Unangam Tunuu, the Indigenous language. Only one elder in the village speaks fluently now. He’s among the fewer than 100 fluent speakers left on the planet, though many people in the village understand and speak some words.

Back in the 1920s, teachers in the government school put hot sauce on her father’s tongue for speaking Unangam Tunuu, she told me. He didn’t require his children to learn it. There’s a way that language shapes how you understand the land and community around you, she said, and she wanted to preserve the parts of that she could.

“[My father] said, ‘If you thought in our language, if you thought from our perspective, you’d know what I’m talking about,’” she said. “I felt cheated.”

She showed me a wall covered with rectangles of paper that tracked grammar in Unangam Tunuu. Lestenkof said she needed to hunt down a fluent speaker to check the grammar. Say you wanted to say “drinking coffee,” she explained. You might learn that you don’t need to add the word for “drinking.” Instead, you might be able to change the noun to a verb just by adding an ending to it.

Her program had been supported by money from a local nonprofit invested in crabbing and, more recently, by grants, but she was recently informed that she may lose funding. Her students come from the village school, which is shrinking along with the population. I asked her what would happen if the crabs fail to come back. People could survive, she said, but the village would look very different.

“Sometimes I’ve pondered, is it even right to have 500 people on this island?” she said.

If people moved off, I asked her, who would keep track of its history?

“Oh, so we don’t repeat it?” she asked, laughing. “We repeat history. We repeat stupid history, too.”

Until recently, during the crab season, the Bering Sea fleet had some 70 boats, most of them ported out of Washington state, with crews that came from all over the US. Few villagers work in the industry, in part because the job only lasts for a short season. Instead, they fish commercially for halibut, have positions in the local government or the tribe, or work in tourism. Processing is hard, physical labor—a schedule might be seven days a week, 12 hours a day, with an average pay of $17 an hour. As with lots of processors in Alaska, nonresident workers on temporary visas from the Philippines, Mexico, and Eastern Europe fill many of the jobs.

The crab plant echoes the dynamics of commercial sealing, she said. Its workers leave their homeland, working hard labor for low pay. It was one more industry depleting Alaska’s resources and sending them across the globe. Maybe the system didn’t serve Alaskans in a lasting way. Do people eating crab know how far it travels to the plate?

“We have the seas feeding people in freakin’ Iowa,” she said. “They shouldn’t be eating it. Get your own food.”

Ocean temperatures are increasing all over the world, but sea surface temperature change is most dramatic in the high latitudes of the Northern Hemisphere. As the North Pacific experiences sustained increases in temperature, it also warms up the Bering Sea to the north, through marine heat waves. During the past decade, these heat waves have grown more frequent and longer-lasting than at any time since record-keeping began more than 100 years ago. Scientists expect this trend to continue. 

A marine heat wave in the Bering Sea between 2016 and 2019 brought record warmth, preventing ice formation for several winters and affecting numerous cold-water species, including Pacific cod and pollock, seals, seabirds, and several types of crab.

Snow crab stocks always vary, but in 2018 a survey indicated that the snow crab population had exploded—it showed a 60 percent boost in market-sized male crab. (Only males of a certain size are harvested.) The next year showed abundance had fallen by 50 percent. The survey skipped a year due to the pandemic. Then, in 2021, the survey showed that the male snow crab population had dropped by more than 90 percent from its high point in 2018. All major Bering Sea crab stocks, including red king crab and bairdi crab, were way down too. The most recent survey showed a decline in snow crabs from 11.7 billion in 2018 to 1.9 billion in 2022.

Scientists think a large pulse of young snow crabs came just before years of abnormally warm water temperatures, which led to less sea ice formation. One hypothesis is that these warmer temperatures drew sea animals from warmer climates north, displacing cold water animals, including commercial species like crab, pollock, and cod.

Another has to do with food availability. Crabs depend on cold water—water that’s 2 degrees Celsius (35.6 degrees Fahrenheit), to be exact—that comes from storms and ice melt, forming cold pools on the bottom of the ocean. Scientists theorize that cold water slows crabs’ metabolisms, reducing their need for food. But with the warmer water on the bottom, they needed more food than was available. It’s possible they starved or cannibalized each other, leading to the crash now underway. Either way, warmer temperatures were key. And there’s every indication temperatures will continue to increase with global warming.

“If we’ve lost the ice, we’ve lost the 2-degree water,” Michael Litzow, shellfish assessment program manager with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, told me. “Cold water, it’s their niche—they’re an Arctic animal.”

The snow crab may rebound in a few years, so long as there aren’t any periods of warm water. But if warming trends continue, as scientists predict, the marine heat waves will return, pressuring the crab population again.

Bones litter the wild part of St. Paul Island like Ezekiel’s Valley in the Old Testament—reindeer ribs, seal teeth, fox femurs, whale vertebrae, and air-light bird skulls hide in the grass and along the rocky beaches, evidence of the bounty of wildlife and 200 years of killing seals.

When I went to visit Phil Zavadil, the city manager and Aqualina’s husband, in his office, I found a couple of sea lion shoulder bones on a coffee table. Called “yes/no” bones, they have a fin along the top and a heavy ball at one end. In St. Paul, they function like a magic eight ball. If you drop one and it falls with the fin pointing right, the answer to your question is yes. If it falls pointing left, the answer is no. One large one said “City of St. Paul Big-Decision Maker.” The other one was labeled “budget bone.”

The long-term health of the town, Zavadil told me, wasn’t in a totally dire position yet when it came to the sudden loss of the crab. It had invested during the heyday of crabbing and with a somewhat reduced budget could likely sustain itself for a decade.

“That’s if something drastic doesn’t happen. If we don’t have to make drastic cuts,” he said. “Hopefully the crab will come back at some level.”

The easiest economic solution for the collapse of the crab fishery would be to convert the plant to process other fish, Zavadil said. There were some regulatory hurdles, but they weren’t insurmountable. City leaders were also exploring mariculture—raising seaweed, sea cucumbers, and sea urchins. That would require finding a market and testing mariculture methods in St. Paul’s waters. The fastest timeline for that was maybe three years, he said. Or they could promote tourism. The island has about 300 tourists a year, most of them hardcore birders.

“But you think about just doubling that,” he said.

The trick was to stabilize the economy before too many working-age adults moved away. There were already more jobs than people to fill them. Older people were passing away, younger families were moving out.

“I had someone come up to me the other day and say, ‘The village is dying,’” he said, but he didn’t see it that way. There were still people working and lots of solutions to try.

“There is cause for alarm if we do nothing,” he said. “We’re trying to work on things and take action the best we can.”

Aquilina Lestenkof’s nephew, Aaron Lestenkof, is an island sentinel with the tribal government, a job that entails monitoring wildlife and overseeing the removal of an endless stream of trash that washes up ashore. He drove me along a bumpy road down the coast to see the beaches that would soon be noisy and crowded with seals.

We parked, and I followed him to a wide field of nubby vegetation stinking of seal scat. A handful of seal heads popped up over the rocks. They eyed us, then shimmied into the surf.

In the old days, Alaska Native seal workers used to walk out onto the crowded beaches, club the animals in the head, and then stab them in the heart. They took the pelts and harvested some meat for food, but some went to waste. Aquilina Lestenkof told me taking animals like that ran counter to how Unangax̂ related to the natural world before the Russians came.

“You have a prayer or ceremony attached to taking the life of an animal—you connect to it by putting the head back in the water,” she said.

Slaughtering seals for pelts made people numb, she told me. The numbness passed from one generation to the next. The era of crabbing had been in some ways a reparation for all the years of exploitation, she said. Climate change brought new, more complex problems. 

I asked Aaron Lestenkof if his elders ever talked about the time in the detention camp where they were sent during World War II. He told me his grandfather, Aquilina’s father, sometimes recalled a painful experience of having to drown rats in a bucket there. The act of killing animals that way was compulsory—the camp had become overrun with rats—but it felt like an ominous affront to the natural order, a trespass he’d pay for later. Every human action in nature has consequences, he often said. Later, when he lost his son, he remembered drowning the rats. 

“Over at the harbor, he was playing and the waves were sweeping over the dock there. He got swept out and he was never found,” Aaron Lestenkof said. “That’s, like, the only story I remember him telling.”

We picked our way down a rocky beach littered with trash—faded coral buoys, disembodied plastic fishing gloves and boots, an old ship’s dishwasher lolling open. He said the animals around the island were changing in small ways. There were fewer birds now. A handful of seals were now living on the island year-round, instead of migrating south. Their population was also declining.

People still fish, hunt marine mammals, collect eggs, and pick berries. Aaron Lestenkof hunts red-legged kittiwakes and king eiders, though he doesn’t have a taste for the bird meat. He finds elders who do like them, but that’s gotten harder. He wasn’t looking forward to the lean years of waiting for the crabs to return. Proceeds from the community’s investment in crabbing boats had paid the heating bills of older people; the boats also supplied the elderly with crab and halibut for their freezers. They supported education programs and environmental cleanup efforts. But now, he said, having the crab gone would “affect our income and the community.”

Aaron Lestenkof was optimistic that they might cultivate other industries and grow tourism. He hoped so, because he never wanted to leave the island. His daughter was away at boarding school because there was no in-person high school any more. He hoped, when she grew up, that she’d want to return and make her life in town.

On Sunday morning, the 148-year-old church bell at Saints Peter and Paul Russian Orthodox Church tolled through the fog. A handful of older women and men filtered in and stood on separate sides of the church among gilded portraits of the saints. The church has been part of village life since the beginning of Russian occupation, one of the few places, people said, where Unangam Tunuu was welcome.

A priest sometimes travels to the island, but that day George Pletnikoff Jr, a local, acted as subdeacon, singing the 90-minute service in English, Church Slavonic, and Unangam Tunuu. George helps with Aquilina Lestenkof’s language class. He is newly married with a 6-month-old baby.

After the service, he told me that maybe people weren’t supposed to live on the island. Maybe they needed to leave that piece of history behind.

“This is a traumatized place,” he said. 

It was only a matter of time until the fishing economy didn’t serve the village anymore and the cost of living would make it hard for people to stay, he said. He thought he’d move his family south to the Aleutians, where his ancestors came from.

“Nikolski, Unalaska,” he told me. “The motherland.”

The next day, just before I headed to the airport, I stopped back at Aquilina Lestenkof’s classroom. A handful of middle school students arrived, wearing oversize sweatshirts and high-top Nikes. She invited me into a circle where students introduced themselves in Unangam Tunuu, using hand gestures that helped them remember the words.

After a while, I followed the class to a work table. Lestenkof guided them, pulling a needle through a papery dried seal esophagus to sew a waterproof pouch. The idea was that they’d practice words and skills that generations before them had carried from island to island, hearing and feeling them until they became so automatic they could teach them to their own children.

This story was produced in collaboration with the Food & Environment Reporting Network, a nonprofit news organization.

[cinturon-cadena]

My D&D Party!!

I can finally post this beautiful artwork that I commissioned from @bimborat for the D&D 5e game that I run online!!

[From Left to Right: Giblet the Aarakocra Monk/Ranger/Fighter, Rael the Drow Druid, Raguel the Godling in the back, Asbel the Half-Elf Fighter/Warlock, Kori the Half-Elf Wizard, Ti the Aasimar Cleric/Artificer, and in the front veiled in shadow is Endrina the Shadow Demon patron of Asbel]

Bimborat aka Eldritch Blossom is an amazing and talented artist who churned this out for me in under a month! Go check out her Tumblr here and her Instagram here!

She was very patient and adaptable throughout the entire process, and obviously the results speak for themselves!! ❤❤

False Hydra Encounter Spoilers under the cut~

IF YOU ARE CURRENTLY EXPERIENCING ANY OF THE FOLLOWING AS A PLAYER, PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE AS IT MAY SPOIL THE EXPERIENCE:

Random things (such as health potions) appearing on or around dead bodies

Extra beds in the Tavern/Hotel rooms you stay in

NPCs frequently referring to your Party as 1 person larger than it is

Allies/Enemies randomly becoming more damaged than they were a second ago

NPCs having inconsistent memories or selective amnesia

Empty houses that are fully furnished as if someone could live there, but NPCs insisting that "no one has ever lived there"

Ok, Storytime~

I'm DMing this D&D 5e Party online, and have been for nearly 2 years now. They've finally made it to level 11, so I can start throwing some really big bosses at them like the False Hydra.

I give one of my PCs, Ti, a note from a villager in the upcoming town, stating that they had the pleasure of meeting a friend of Ti's and that they should meet. This is a big deal, because Ti has been looking for this friend of his for a long time. He convinces the Party to come with him to meet his friend, and the Party arrives in the town.

The town is oddly quiet and empty, with only a few market stalls manned. They come across an odd homeless man that appears to be graffitiing the side of a house in charcoal with the words, 'LOOK UP'. When the Party attempt to communicate, he gives no indication that he can hear them and runs away.

Things get even stranger when they arrive at the address the letter was sent from. They are greeted by an eccentric Halfling Gnome! (definitely a Gnome!) inventor, who invites them to test his Nonmagiscry device - a contraption that is able to instantly capture the image of someone nearby without the use of magic. They agree and the inventor instructs the Party to pose for him. Afterwards they ask him about the letter and the mysterious cryptic note in the middle of it. However, not only does he have no idea what they're talking about or who Ti's friend is, but the panicked note that was embedded in the middle of the letter is gone!

Apologizing that he can't help the Party more, the inventor informs them that if they're looking for someone out of town, they should go to the tavern as it's a popular place for travellers.

They arrive at Larry's, a tavern named after the talented chef and owner. Inside, they find that most of the tables are empty, with only 1 or 2 patrons at the occupied tables spread out oddly throughout the tavern. Despite this, most of the tables are full with tankards of ale that haven't been touched, and the barista, Larry's wife, appears overwhelmed at trying to manage the half-empty establishment.

After some questioning and ordering of drinks, the Party finds out that someone matching the description of Ti's friend had passed through town some days ago, but they were being followed by 'mysterious figures in dark cloaks' (it's the cult problem they've been having to constantly deal with throughout their adventure).

They thank her for the information and get a room for 2cp/person - 12cp 10cp in total. The price includes a delicious breakfast made by her husband.

This is when things start to get really interesting.

The Party wakes up the next morning, and Rael has scratched 'IT'S WATCHING' on his own chest with his fingernails during his sleep (meditation, technically - dude's a Dark Elf).

This, naturally, causes the entire Party to Freak Out. They deliberate what to do before Kori the Wizard has an idea: he takes the small silver pocket mirror that he had bought the day before, and uses it to view the room.

They see that Rael and Ti's room window has been smashed from the outside through the mirror. They are on the second floor. And the window appears normal when they look at it without the aid of the mirror.

Taking it to the others' rooms also yields some interesting finds: in Kori and Giblet the Aarakocra's room they find scratching on every wall surface stating, 'IT'S WATCHING YOU IT'S ALWAYS WATCHING THE EYES THOSE HORRIBLE EYES', as well as a boarded-up window. In Asbel's room they find more broken glass and blood stains around the window. They also find an extra bag that doesn't belong to anyone.

Needing a break from this insanity, the Party decides to go downstairs and discuss their findings over breakfast. However, upon arriving they are served nothing but a meager burnt toast and coffee instead of the breakfast buffet they were promised from the barista's husband. Upon questioning the barista about it, she curtly informed them that she has never been married.

Taking their investigation outside, the Party discovers that the number of footprints in the snow around town seems to have more than doubled overnight. Using Giblet's tracking abilities, they follow a set of new footprints to an abandoned house with a wide-open gate that bears a sign saying, 'BEWARE OF DOG'.

They do not find a dog.

However, Giblet's keen eyes do find what the rest of the Party somehow missed: a doghouse in the backyard that seems to have been completely obliterated from above. As the Party examines it, both Giblet and Kori spot something in the back window of the house:

A pale, gaunt face with wet, hollow holes for eyes and a distended jaw filled with perfectly straight, white teeth. It is extended unnaturally as it sings a horrible song.

As they watch it, it seems to slink back further into the house.

The 2 lead the Party into the back of the back of the house in order to find out what this creature is. After some investigating, they find a storage closet with some potions of Blindness/Deafness as well as a potion of Clarity. They also find an empty bedroom with all the furniture from the entire house piled up in the closet.

Deciding to head back to where this all begun for them, the Party heads back down the street to the inventor's house. However, halfway there Rael gets the Feeling of Being Watched, and he can hear a horrifying melody being bellowed from somewhere behind the Party. The rest of the Party appear to be unaffected.

Slowly, carefully, Rael holds up the small silvered mirror that Kori had given him, and sees behind him a massive pale fleshy stalk that stretches up into the sky. At the top of the stalk is a pale, gaunt face with wet, hollow holes for eyes and a distended jaw filled with perfectly straight, white teeth. It is extended unnaturally as it sings a horrible song.

Rael does his best to Not Freak Out, and succeeds fairly well. He subtly informs the rest of the Party that they're Being Watched and that it might be a good idea to plug their ears (he has correctly assumed that the Singing is Bad).

The Party, unfortunately, are not so subtle, and begin frantically ripping their clothes and tying cloths around their heads in order to try and muffle their ears. The False Hydra sees what they're doing and attacks!

It goes after Rael first, since he's at the back of the group. Before the Party's very eyes, Rael seems to disappear out of nowhere. Rael can still see the Party from where he's being grappled in the Hydra's mouth, 20' in the air, but the Party seem unable to heed his cries.

Using his quick thinking and Monk training, Giblet stills his mind and is able to now hear Rael's cries, though he is still unable to see him. Flying up, Giblet, with Rael's instruction, manages to land a hit on the False Hydra and grab Rael's hand. Rael wildshapes into an ant and slips out of the False Hydra's jaw just as the beast bellows in pain and disappears down into the hole in the middle of the street.

Giblet, with Ant!Rael in tow, dive down after the monster. Kori reaches into the Bag of Requirement I provided the Party with at the beginning of the Adventure (so of course they've never used it until now), and rolls well enough to pull out Eyedrops of True Sight. He uses them and chases after his Party members, providing them with the eyedrops as well.

They descend down through the tunnels into the depths below the town, until they come across a massive cavern with a twisting labyrinth. Fortunately, Ant!Rael has an amazing sense of smell, almost as if ants' entire lives revolve around olfactory communication! So Giblet places Ant!Rael on his unfolded paper fan which acts like a protractor, and Ant!Rael indicates the direction in the maze with the most foul stench.

Using the AntProtractor, the Party make it to the centre of the maze, where the massive, bulbous mass of pale flesh sits with no less than 5 long fleshy stalks with horrifying heads at the ends.

The battle was long and hard, and had 2 phases so that when the Party thought they had won, I pulled a sike! on them and they had to fight it again. Multiple Party members were rolling Death Saves at the same time, multiple times in a row! (Remember, these guys are level 11; I'm allowed to be hard on them now)

One by one, they defeated each head until there was only one left. 2 Party members were in the process of being swallowed by this thing. Another was still in its jaws. Those not within its grasp were either being paralyzed or recovering from their Death Saves.

Then Ti, one of the Party members within the gullet of the False Hydra, Ti sliced its neck open Hercules-style and slayed the Final Head. The False Hydra was Dead.

(then I moved the turn order up and loudly announced it was the False Hydra's turn. And that it was Dead so it didn't get a turn :) My Party cussed me out after they recovered from the horror)

Tired but victorious, the Party burned the body and left the bowels of the town to return to the surface. They exited from a hole near the inventor's house, and Kori remarked that they still needed to see how the Nonmagiscry picture had turned out. Together, Giblet, Rael, Asbel, Kori, and Ti walked up to the inventor's door.

The inventor was suspicious at first, seeing to have regained awareness that there was a monster lurking about eating people at random. But after reassuring him that they had defeated the monster, he welcomed them in with open arms.

He retrieved the photo of the Party and gave it to the Five of them:

There was a Sixth person in the photo.

[caw-rky]

Full shuffled pillars ! :DD Here are their adapted stories (version in a nutshell) :

-Starswirl, alicorn of magic : first unicorn to ever reach alicorn-hood by his own means and teacher of Celestia and Luna. He became an alicorn before there was one government for all of ponykind, the fusion was done by the sisters after he disapeared. He is the one who created the first few models of magic and multiple spells. Some call him the "father of modern magic"

-Flash Magnus, earth pony soldier : the town he was situated in got attacked by a dragon, pegasi soldiers came since they are better abilited to fight a flying ennemy. They got beaten but before they could get burned to a crisp, Flash grabbed one of their shield and threw himself before the blaze, stopping it and managed to beat the dragon by climbing on it.

-Mistmane, pegasus : In this version, her friend is younger and became deadly sick during her absence. Her parents, to try and keep her alive as long as they could, locked her in the palace and she began asking for all the beautiful things, to feel as if she had been able to travel, explore and discover. Feeling isolated due to Mistmane being gone, the villagers being overworked and her parents not accepting that she wants to see the world, even if it makes her life even shorter. Finally, she snaps at them when Mistmane comes back and sacrifice a big part of her health for her (against her friend will, who also snaps at Mistmane, not having wanted her friend to suffer for her, but nothing could take it back), making her realize that no-object could make the disapointment of staying between the same walls disapear. And that she only felt hurt for the hurt caused to others to try and make her happy. Mistmane is a master of weathers and winds, able to make powerful puppet-cloud that she can use to attack. She is very weakened by her condition and needs regular rest-period.

-Rockhoof, unicorn : despite the stereotype on his race, he isn't a scholar and doesn't have natural talent in magic nor strong magic. Tried and tried to conform but it wasn't him. Realized he loved physical labor and was kind of shunned for it, so he shunned his own magic, when his town got in danger from the volcano, he (like in fim) began his trench, while digging, he realized his magic could help him and to amazement, when he accepted that he wasn't a failed unicorn for preferring physical labor nor a failed earth pony for having magic, it happened like fim and he saved his home. He began then working with the mighty helm despite them originally being earth pony only, due to unicorn army working only with their magic.

-Somnambula, unicorn : very close to fim until her magic was stopped by horn ring for the crossing of the bridge. She again crossed it by not losing hope or panicking. But the end wasn't quite as sweet and easy because, when she took the blindfold off and saved the prince, the sphinx decided to get one last hit before flying away and blinded her with a hit of claws in the eyes. She is also a dream-walker (like Luna, she can walk in dream. Though, contrary to her, she can only access dreams of people she touch and can't manipulate them, she has to make the dreamer manipulate their own dream).

-Meadowbrook, bat-pony : the exact same as fim, except she isn't an earth pony but a bat-pony. Bat-ponies generally lives in forest in my au due to not being as good flyiers as regular pegasus. They also have a better night-vision but are more easily blinded by bright light. I will at a moment make something to talk about the different pony kind in the au

-Stygian, earth pony : I can't tell much since it would spoil if I write precisely the au x'DD So, I will just say he is a shadow-infused earth pony. Where earth pony are normally infused with the magic of the earth (which give them their enhanced strenght and ability to grow crops more easily), he is infused with the shadows. It is a forbidden process done during pregnancy that is complete at birth. If Stygian had a child, except if he had them with another shadow-infused earth pony, the child would be either a regular earth pony or of the other parent race. Being infused with the 'wrong' magic has multiple consequences, notably being far smaller and weaker than normal, a weakened immune system, special culinary needs, ... It also allow access to the magic in question, more precision if/when I will do a post on them specificaly. Starswirl was aware of what Stygian was from the moment he saw him. Stygian isn't aware before being in current Equestria.

[crystalmaiden77real]

" Creativity in Sonic is Bad, unless the Games Have it! " Game Purism: Adaptational Decay is Creativity, just care whether it's done right or not

As someone who grew up on just the games and liked the Sonic Sunday Strips which were heavily based on the games, and was fine with two of the episodes of Sonic Mania Adventures, and loved STC which started out like the games; if a continuity of Sonic was 100% like the games the only way it could stay that way would be if it was never allowed to have new ideas, because one could say about any new idea that it’s not like the games because it wasn’t done there, and eventually the amount of new ideas would be astronomical. Nobody wants a show/comic that’s nothing but Sonic fighting the same badniks and mechas he already fought and collecting Emeralds. What'd be the point if there's no new experiences in a new story besides dialogue?

Old badniks and mechas reappearing were called out as nostalgia pandering even by the average casual Classicist who never read the comics as soon as it started happening. So the ” creativity is bad crowd ” is a minority. The way other continuities are not like the games is greatly exaggerated, almost every other continuity has nearly all the fundamentals of the games and are still called nothing like the games for merely adding a few things to a universe like the games, and things in this case can mean characters or settings as well.

The Sonic games are about magical non-adult animal people fighting robots and machines in general and collecting magical gems. The only major continuity that doesn’t do all three of those is SatAM, and I can forgive that happening once in over 20 continuities. And it was still a financial and critical success, for its creativity. The only ones that JUST don’t do the magical gem collecting thing are the ones that didn’t last long enough to, like the Sonic 1991 promotional comic I bought.

I hopefully don’t have to literally list every single continuity and confirm that it does have all of those major game elements. The only other fundamental aspect of the games I didn’t mention is, the exact characterizations of the main cast. Those characterizations shouldn’t be objectively downgraded. A lot of times they are changed, but sometimes it’s just debatable whether it’s a downgrade or not, like with Sonic.

If a character’s made a massive idiot, that’s an objective downgrade. Making him more incompetent is the only way a character would count as objectively without a shadow of a doubt mischaracterized, because some people find a less nice Sonic more interesting. I’d also include “ game settings “ as a fundamental of the game universe, but I never see game purists get mad because there even are original settings at all. That’d be dumb since nearly every game introduces original settings. If anyone does hate Knothole for example, it'd make as much sense as hating a new town in a Sonic game like Empire City...

though Knothole staying hidden IS really forced so I do hate that. But that's one aspect of Knothole, it's still just a village and one that the heroes live in and that's what's supposed to be important. I can see the big picture, not fail to see the forest for the trees and just see stuff for its adaptational " decay. " It's part of why I insist on finding the good in everything in this series.

And that’s without saying the obvious fact that it’d be uncreative to only use game settings. If even Mania got criticized for having mostly old levels, imagine an alternate continuity. The only reason any ideas are called not-Sonic-like is that it just happens that they haven’t appeared in old Sonic games.

The only reason any ideas are called not like the games is that they haven’t been used in a game YET, which is what’s to be said about most ideas because the games usually have the same few plots over and over with a different coat of paint, being either “ Eggman captured living beings “ formula or “ Monster of the Week formula. “ I like the games universe, I grew up with just it but everyone knows story’s not its strong suit. Any identical adaptation would carry over that “ story’s not its strong suit “ part. I did the calculations and I like most of its stories but it’s too formulaic.

Just because something hasn’t been seen in the games doesn’t mean it doesn’t belong in or will never be in it, let alone that it doesn’t exist in the games universe, when you could make a list of everything that was introduced to the games universe by subsequent games, so something doesn’t not exist in the games universe just because it hasn’t appeared in it yet. Shadow still came to exist despite not being in Sonic Adventure, whose first cutscene had cops tell Chaos to surrender, but an IDW writer really insisted that law enforcement doesn’t exist in the Sonic games as an excuse for Clutch not being arrested yet.

Even if we’re pretending they didn’t exist or saying it’s just the human world, cops could be in a Sonic game again any day now. And this really goes to show you how meaningless it is to say a concept suits a Sonic game or doesn’t when even the people in charge of the series can change their minds about it on a dime.

Also, what about Chaos? Why not argue that god monsters in general aren’t Sonic-like because they were never in the Classic games? I doubt anyone says that. Any idea will become seen as belonging in the games if it’s done enough times. Usually an idea gets used for the games and after a while nobody’s saying it doesn’t belong in Sonic anymore even if it appeared beyond the games first. The Chaos Emeralds were revealed to be from another world in Frontiers. That happened in Fleetway first.

I wouldn’t be surprised if that idea was mocked when STC did it just for being something the games didn’t do yet. The only reason it receives any criticism in Frontiers is that it waited too long to do it. Did anyone expect there to be a 3D Sonic game plot where the planet got shattered and filled with monsters, or Eggman captured aliens? Is any new idea for a Sonic game plot Sonic-like? We should stop using Sonic-like as an objective measure of quality then because it’s unquantifiable and arbitrary.

Mediums that aren’t the games have far more story potential because they don’t have to be restricted to plots that have to have a huge variety in setting because they’re video games. But again the only way a continuity could stay 100% like the games would be by not being allowed to take advantage of said greater story potential, forcing them to miss the point of other continuities for most audiences. That’s the only way you could be fully faithful. How else do you write like the games?

That’d get canned quick. Even fanfiction has more interesting plots and it’s free. You don’t want that competing with your brand. There was already an adaptation that had the plots be almost nothing but the characters fighting enemies from the games and collecting Chaos Emeralds, and it was the Archie Sonic reboot. Game purists hate that too, and it got cancelled because it started losing sales consistently thanks to Worlds Unite and I doubt the lack of creativity did anything to retain its readership when it was cancelled in the Genesis arc, long after any problems from Worlds Unite would’ve not been in the writing anymore.

It wouldn’t have gotten canned at its most game-like if it/Sonic being like the games helped. I think it was also cancelled because Riverdale and the new gritty Archie Andrews comics were getting a lot of attention causing Archie to cancel Sonic to make room for more Archie, but if Sonic sold better it wouldn’t have done that. Anyways game purists hate the reboot because Sonic’s too much of a jerk for them in it, albeit less of one than in the preboot.

Cream being kept away from the action doesn’t help either, and of course the mere presence of the SatAM characters makes them roll their eyes. So it’s still not enough like the games. They will never be satisfied, because what they want is expecting way too much of Sega and the writers; Sega’s not competent or interested enough to make an adaptation be 100% faithful and the writers from Archie aren’t interested enough in writing exactly like them instead of Archie, and none of the writers know every detail of the games. Being like the games completely requires far too many details gotten right with decades of continuity to memorize.

Even Sonic fans can not know a thing or forget a detail, and most writers aren't fans. So you could hire any Sonic fan for a continuity just like the games, and it would inevitably get something wrong and be hated by purists no matter what. The non-purists can be trusted to still like something despite that, so who makes more sense to market towards? Everyone knows the Sonic comics are more obscure than the games because the games get more marketing and the average person's gonna look at a Sonic show and assume that you have to play the games to understand and enjoy it. So nearly no one just buys the comics and not also the games, and most people who don't already buy the games won't watch a Sonic show.

Sonic customers who only buy the games aren’t nearly as profitable. So no one should blame Sega for not pandering to game purists at the expense of everyone else, which would require not having OCs in their other continuities at all. For no reason OCs alone annoy them. Because you can totally write new towns and cities into your story with no new characters in them at all, without anyone finding it weird, and they totally wouldn’t get sick of the same few villains over and over. Here’s an instance where OCs would be better, they should’ve made OC technomages instead of bringing back the Deadly Six for the Metal Virus arc.

I wouldn’t have made it through all of Archie if I let OCs bother me. So I never kept thinking of any of its OCs as OCs the entire time I saw them. It wasn’t in the back of my mind every time I saw them. I saw them as people. Game purists talk as if there’s no good well-intentioned reason for adding new ideas to Sonic as long as it’s alternate continuity instead of a new game. They talk as if the presence of any creativity proves that it’s made by people who hate Sonic and only see the game canon as a ball and chain with rules to write around.

“ Creativity is good “ should be obvious. New continuities have original hooks to them to give them an identity to make them memorable because it’s common sense to do that for marketing them. They made Tangle and Whisper for IDW for a reason, to personify IDW. Even Sega knows it can’t sell a comic on just being an advertisement for the games. Why else did it have Sonic Mania Adventures be just Youtube videos for free instead of a TV show with a ton of episodes? They must have known most people wouldn't watch enough of that. IDW needed an OC to create hype.

What else was it supposed to do, expect a new setting no one has any reason to care about to create hype? But even the presence of OCs make game purists say it’s not like the games. They unironically say Sonic X isn’t a straight adaptation of the games. Yes it's not 100% like them but it's clearly 90% like them. They’ll talk as if there was never a show that was faithful to the games, just because Chris and the like happened to be in Sonic X as side characters that were usually not the focus anyways. Sonic X was based on SA1. For game purists.

The only reason it got the characters wrong was Sega of Japan; we see X characterization in the games at the same time, like Knuckles being dumber. That means those mischaracterizations were the Sega standard at the time. Their ingratitude for Sonic X is proof that Sonic should never try to have a show heavily based on the games again because it’s not profitable when the only people who would stay interested in it would disown it on the first sign of OCs, even though every main game introduces a character. The Ring power-up thing was also not like the games but only because we didn't see that in the games and who's to say Tails is too stupid to invent a Ring that could power up Sonic? He made a fake Emerald.

It’s fine to merely be indifferent to non-game material, or dislike it for actually good reasons, but the game purists are the ones that hate it all specifically because their ideology that creativity is bad makes appreciating what’s good about adaptations impossible, when the very concept that Archie was special for having its own ideas is impossible for them to understand. They won’t believe you. These blind haters always spend most of the time they talk about Sonic insulting Sonic, for what it’s doing new, while lacking the self-awareness needed to realize that they aren’t Sonic fans.

Only on the internet are you believed about being a fan when you hate the vast majority of something, just because you said so. Wanting a franchise to succeed and be good isn’t enough, basically everyone wants nearly every franchise to be good and successful. If talking about something a lot made you a fan, Game Grumps would be Sonic Adventure fans for doing a Let’s Play of it where they trashed it. If barely experiencing something made you a fan, everyone who played Ms. Pac Man would count as a Pac Man fan even if they aren’t fans of most of its series.

I fall into that group, I find Pac Man World 2 to be too complicated and hard to get into based on its tutorial level. Am I a Pac Man fan? I only like the first couple of issues of Superman from the Golden Age. I won’t say I’m a Superman fan, I won’t even talk about its recent stuff. If you try to quantify what makes someone a fan with actual logic, it’s so easy to see that people use the term fan too lightly.

While it’s frustrating enough that someone would have such a colossally bad take as ” adaptations should always be 100% redundant with main canon, ” it’s their pretentiousness and snobby attitude towards actual fans that irritates me. There’s a word for people who hate the vast majority of a series but still claim to be fans, it’s ” anti-fan. ” I just wish they all admitted that they hate Sonic and that most of it isn’t meant for them instead of seeing and presenting themselves as authorities Sega should be exclusively listening to, instead of thinking, ” Just say you hate the games ” to everyone simply paying a compliment to Archie.

I’d like if all of the game purists made a list of the Sonic games they didn’t hate because with all of the controversial Sonic games I doubt even they could like more than 50% of them, meaning that we could say they hate the games too, because if hating most of something doesn’t mean you hate it, how IS it defined? Cherry-picking a few games/stories and saying that only they count for some reason? Sega wants you to say that everything it made counts so they’ll get more customers. That’s part of why it tweeted, ” everything is canon. ”

Liking the concepts of a series doesn't mean you're a fan of the series, everyone likes Superman but not everyone is a fan of most Superman stories.

Of course it’s fine to hate most of the alternate continuities for legitimate reasons, that’s not what this is about, but the argument that merely adding new things to the source material is bad is silly and embarrassing. Almost none of them change the source material, just add to it, so there’s a lot less faithful adaptations.

Everyone knows that TMNT did the right thing by giving unique personalities to the Turtles in the 80s cartoon and not having one of its most famous villains killed off in his first story past the first TMNT comic. I doubt anyone would demonize these things as Adaptational Decay. So why is it okay for TMNT to not be loyal to the source material but not Sonic? TMNT proved it can be a great idea to be creative and it became a lot more popular because of it.

So they don't think all adaptational change is bad, at least I doubt it because that'd be crazy, they just have personal preferences with how Sonic should be, so they shouldn't be talking as if the very concept of not being 100% faithful to the original continuity is sacrilegious heresy. Because anyone who likes any of the unique personalities of the Turtles, anything TMNT that started in the 80s cartoon first isn't consistent with that belief.

Poor articulation can make any argument look stupid and cause it to get " strawmanned " I'm not intentionally doing that, it being about creativity is bad rhetoric is honestly the impression that game purism gives to me when you have someone who always finds an excuse to hate an adaptational change no matter how obviously petty and no matter how obvious it is that the change is good. Some changes are bad and some are good, it depends. It's mature to take things on a case by case basis instead of going Bias Steamroller and seeing things in black and white.

[jaydeemedia]

[ad_1] Experience some of the best sights in Cambodia with our 3-day Siem Reap itinerary. Visit all the mysterious Angkor temples, soak up the unique culture of a floating village on Tonlé Sap plus enjoy the best of the city.   By: Mark Barnes | Published: 15 Mar 2024 span box-shadow: none !important; filter: brightness(1) !important; ]]> Siem Reap is the second biggest city in Cambodia and an essential stop on any trip to the country. Its calling card are the remarkable Khmer temples built in the 9th to 12th centuries. Lost for hundreds of years, these elegant stone cities are partially consumed by the forest, making them the most evocative religious buildings in the world. Just a few miles south is Tonle Sap, the largest lake in southeast Asia. Here locals adapt to the changing height of the lake by living in homes that float on the water or perch high above it on stilts. In addition to the surrounding sights, there are plenty of great things to do in Siem Reap including interesting museums, an old market, and plenty of cool bars. Our itinerary covers 3 wonderful days in the area with tips on when to visit, where to stay and suggested additions if you have more time. IN THIS GUIDE SIEM REAP ITINERARY HOW MANY DAYS DO YOU NEED IN SIEM REAP? We recommend spending 3 full days in Siem Reap. This gives you enough time to explore all the most famous temples (as well as some lesser visited ones), visit a floating village on Tonle Sap and enjoy the nightlife in Siem Reap.   It is however possible to see most of the highlights in just two days. Four days would allow time to see the highlights at a more leisurely pace, explore some of the museums, and spend time chilling by the pool. BEST TIME TO VISIT SIEM REAP Siem Reap is hot and sticky all year round. Daily average highs are between 30°C (86°F) and 35°C (95°F) all year.   However, the year is split into two seasons, the wet season, and the dry season. In the wet season (May-October) it can be cloudy all day with intermittent rain and high levels of humidity. In September, it’s so overcast you might never see the sun. In the dry season (November to April) temperatures drop by a couple of degrees, there is little rain and less humidity. It’s still hot and sultry, but less so than in the wet season and there is much greater chance of clearer skies. The best months to visit are December & January. They are the coolest months of the year, and the Tonlé Sap Lake is still relatively full of water – perfect for seeing the floating villages. PHNOM BAKHENG 3-DAY SIEM REAP ITINERARY Here is an overview of our 3-day Siem Reap itinerary. Day 1 – Small Circuit of Angkor Wat, Bayon, and Ta Prohm. Day 2 – Beng Mealea and Banteay Srei, followed by Tonlé Sap. Day 3 – Grand Circuit of less the visited temples, and Cambodian Circus. At the end of this guide, we have suggested amendments in case you want to take things a bit slower. ANGKOR THOM DAY 1 IN SIEM REAP SMALL CIRCUIT For day 1, follow the Small Circuit, a circular route around the most impressive temples around Siem Reap. You can find detailed instructions, including times, tips on how to get around, and maps on our Small Circuit guide. Get an early start and head to Angkor Wat to watch sunrise from behind the north or south reflecting pools. Explore Angkor Wat not missing the carvings on the southern and eastern walls, the Hall of a Thousand Gods or the views from the Upper Level. Next head to Angkor Thom, a collection of temples, the most impressive being Bayon with its 216 smiling faces.   Visit the Tomb Raider temple, Ta Prohm, fighting a losing battle against the jungle.   Finish at Banteay Kdei with its maze of chambers, Buddha statues, lintels, and bas-reliefs. The entire tour takes between 6 to 9 hours depending on how long you spend at each temple. There are restaurants and shops dotted along the route to pick up some lunch. BAPHUON, ANGKOR THOM

ANGKOR WAT BACK IN SIEM REAP If you leave Siem Reap an hour before sunrise you should be back about mid-afternoon. Spend the afternoon relaxing by your pool or strolling around town. In the evening explore the Old Market, and grab dinner at the stalls of the Riverside Night Market which are perched on the banks of the river. OLD MARKET WILD DAY 2 IN SIEM REAP Start day 2 by visiting the best temples on the outskirts of Siem Reap then take a tour of a floating village on Tonlé Sap. OUTER TEMPLES Hire a taxi for the morning and take the 1-hour drive to Beng Mealea, a remarkable temple literally consumed by the forest. Next drive 1 hour to Banteay Srei, a small temple with intricate carvings, considered the pinnacle of Khmer artwork. Drive back to Siem Reap (45 minutes) BANTEAY SREI BENG MEALEA BENG MEALEA TONLÉ SAP FLOATING VILLAGE In the afternoon join a tour to a floating village on Tonlé Sap Lake. There are quite a few to choose from, but we recommend either Kompong Phluk or Kompong Khleang. You can read all about them on our Tonle Sap post. Tours leave Siem Reap between 2 pm and 2.30 pm and end with sunset overlooking the lake. TONLÉ SAP DINNER IN SIEM REAP For dinner head to Street 26 in Siem Reap. Banlle does good vegetarian food, Tevy’s offers excellent Khmer classics, and Miss Wong provides the cocktails in a bar inspired by 1920’s Shanghai. TIPS FOR DAY 2 This is a busy day so you’ll want to leave by 8 am otherwise you’ll miss the Tonlé Sap tour. The taxi tour around the temples will cost about $65-75 and takes about 5 hours. There is an optional canoe experience on Tonlé Sap which cost $5 per person and is payable in good quality US notes only. If you want to take things slower see our Itinerary Adjustments lower in this guide. MISS WONG LAUNDRY DAY 3 IN SIEM REAP On day 3, complete the Grand Circuit, a route that explores the less visited temples that surround Angkor Wat. All the details are in our Grand Circuit guide.  As you don’t need to leave for sunrise, you can have a slower start this morning. Have a leisurely breakfast in your guesthouse or try Sister Srey for an excellent coffee.   GRAND CIRCUIT Organise a taxi to leave around mid-morning and do the Grand Circuit tour in an anticlockwise direction. Start with a brief photo stop at Prasat Kravan, then explore the monumental pyramidal structure of Pre Rup, followed by East Mebon. Next go to Ta Som, not missing the eastern entrance to see the remains of a tree consuming the gate. Stop off at North Baray lake, then walk across the boardwalk to Neak Pean temple. Finish at Preah Khan, a maze of corridors and vaults similar to Ta Prohm without the crowds. TA PROHM TA SOM PRE RUP ANGKOR WAT IN THE AFTERNOON On the way back to Siem Reap, you’ll pass Angkor Wat and it should be late afternoon. The light hitting the façade of the temple at this time of day is beautiful and it’s generally much quieter. Head back to the north and south reflecting pools and libraries to get photos in the peace and quiet. Note – Angkor Wat closes at 5.30 pm so make sure you arrive a good thirty minutes beforehand. AFTERNOON AT ANGKOR WAT PHNOM BAKHENG FOR SUNSET We suggest one of two options for this evening. If you’ve still got the energy head to Phnom Bakheng and hike up to the summit (25 minutes) to watch sunset over the jungle.  You can see Angkor Wat in the distance and there is often a good hubbub on the summit. PHARE The views from Phnom Bakheng are not amazing (in our opinion), so another option is to go to Phare, the Cambodian Circus. The performance is in a large tent in the western part of Siem Reap and it’s a lot of fun. The show begins at 8 pm and lasts 1 hour. PHARE ITINERARY ADJUSTMENTS The above is our recommendation on how to spend 3 days in Siem Reap. However, if you only have two days, we suggest you complete Day 1 and Day 2 of the itinerary above. If you have three days and don’t want to rush, consider this slower 3-da

y itinerary: Day 1 – Complete the Small Circuit Day 2 – Take a taxi tour to the outer temples of Beng Mealea and Banteay Srei, but also include a stop at the Roluos Group and the Cambodia Land Mine Museum. Day 3 – Explore Siem Reap and visit the Angkor museum (or chill by the pool) in the morning, and then take a tour to a floating village on Tonle Sap in the afternoon. You’ll miss the Grand Circuit, but it’ll be more relaxing, and you’ll have seen the best Siem Reap offers. If you have four days, follow the slower 3-day itinerary above, then on the fourth day complete the Grand Circuit. TONLÉ SAP ROLUOS GROUP TA PROHM OTHER THINGS TO DO This 3-day itinerary covers our highlights of Siem Reap. But it’s a popular destination and there are plenty of other sights. Don’t miss anything you might be interested in by reading our guide to the best things to do in Siem Reap. There are also lots of very different-looking temples. Here’s a breakdown of all the best temples near Siem Reap. ANGKOR TEMPLE TICKETS To visit the Angkor Temples near Siem Reap you need a pass from Angkor Enterprise. You can purchase the pass at the entrance gate to the main Angkor temples, but it can take time. It’s much more convenient to purchase them in advance online. The pass can then be stored on your phone to show as you enter each temple. There are three types of tickets: 1-Day Pas ($37) – Entry to all the Angkor temples for 1 day. 3-Day Pass ($62) – Entry to all the Angkor temples for any 3 days in a 10-day period. 7-Day Pass ($72) – Entry to all the above temples for any 7 days in a 1-month period. The pass will be scanned at the entrance to most of the major temples to monitor how many days have been used. Children under the age of 12 are free but must show their passports. Note – Even if you follow our 4-day itinerary above you can buy the 3-day pass, as the third day exploring Siem Reap city and visiting Tonlé Sap does not require the ticket. WHAT TO PACK Read our guide on what you need to know before travelling to Cambodia, but here are some items particularly useful for hot days walking around the temples. A refillable water bottle to help cut down on the excessive plastic use in Cambodia. High-factor sunscreen and a floppy hat that covers the neck. Mosquito spray with a high level of DEET and bite cream. Good comfortable walking shoes – the miles quickly add up. Longer shorts – shorts that are too short are not allowed in the temples. Men seemed to get away with shorts just above the knee, but the rules are stricter for women. Bring plenty of T-shirts with sleeves – sleeveless T-shirts are not allowed in the temples. In the wet season bring comfortable thin walking trousers and a light rainproof. A light rucksack to carry items during the day will be handy. Basic first aid kits including rehydration salts are always a good idea in Cambodia. A lot needs to be paid for in cash, so always have small change in US or Cambodian Riel. ANGKOR WAT WHERE TO STAY Siem Reap has embraced tourism with plenty of accommodation options from budget backpacker lodges to luxurious hotels. Here are a few recommendations from us. HOSTEL | $ ONEDERZ SIEM REAP Located beside the Old Market, this excellent hostel has private rooms and dormitories with free Wifi and two swimming pools. BOOKING.COM | HOTELS.COM BOUTIQUE | $$ JAYA HOUSE RIVER PARK Located outside the busy area in a tropical garden, this beautiful property has excellent Wifi, air-conditioning, and a very enticing pool. BOOKING.COM | HOTELS.COM LUXURY | $$$ BOPHA WAT BO RESIDENCE A smart clean hotel with a pool in a lovely garden setting. The breakfast is superb and it’s just a short stroll into the centre of town.   BOOKING.COM | HOTELS.COM ANYWHERE WE ROAM ISREADER-SUPPORTED When you buy through links on our site, we may earn a small affiliate commission at no extra cost to you. You can also shout us a coffee. Thanks for your support – P

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The series "Shadow and Bones" has been adapted from the well-known series of books of the same name written by Leigh Bardugo, who wrote several fantasy novels such as "Rule of Wolves." The story is set in a fictional world where war is ongoing, and a few ordinary characters, like a soldier and an orphan, are set to make history when they are on the verge of saving the world from evil forces. The television series has many angles, including romance, mystery, action, magic, and other things. Fans of fantasy shows should check out similar shows that did well in attracting attention from audiences around the world for their plots, visual effects, and performances. Locke And Key (2020-2022) "Locke and Key" is a supernatural horror show that was created by Carlton Cuse from "Lost," "The Returned," and others. The story revolves around a family who recently witnessed the tragic death of their father. So, the mother and children move to an ancestral house, where they encounter strange rooms with locks on them. It is a drama with a lot of emotional content that keeps the viewer on edge with its gripping tale and visual effects. The show's first season was released in early 2020 and can be viewed on Netflix. The Chilling Adventures Of Sabrina (2018-2020) "Chilling Adventures of Sabrina" was created by Roberto Aguirre from "Pretty Little Liars: The Original Sin." The show has been divided into four parts, and the first part was released in 2018. The series was mostly shot in British Columbia, Canada. The plot centers around a young girl who happens to be a witch and has enormous powers within her. She lives with her aunts after the death of her parents in an accident and has loyal friends from school. The Witcher (2019- Present) The creator of "The Umbrella Academy," Lauren Schmidt Hissrich, developed the much-loved fantasy show "The Witcher." The series has so far had two seasons, with the first premiering in 2021. It is based on books of the same name written by Andrzej Sapkowski, who writes in Polish. It explores the fictional world of characters such as Geralt of Rivia, whose story is famous among people in the area. The various characters, including Geralt, Yennefer of Vengerberg, and the crown princess, become part of the same time period, and their lives get entangled. The show indicates how the Witcher and the life of the princess are related because the former becomes her protector. It has been hugely successful among lovers of fantasy dramas and is available on Netflix. The Wheel Of Time (2021- Present) The show "The Wheel of Time'' has been available for viewers around the world on Amazon Prime Videos since 2021, when the first season premiered. It is an adaptation of the famous books written by Robert Jordan (Conan the Barbarian) and Brandon Sanderson (The Stormlight Archive). The lead character in the show is Moiraine, played by the talented actress Rosamund Pike from "Gone Girl." She is on a mission to find the person who is a reincarnation of Dragon and will be crucial in saving the world. The villagers are not aware whether the gifted person is a girl or a boy, but they have to find the individual as the child has grown up. The show is high on fantasy and entertains lovers of epic fiction. The Rings Of Power (2022- Present) The show "The Rings of Power" is adapted from the book and other works of J. R. R. Tolkien, who is famous for his books such as "Lord of the Rings." The show was launched in 2022 by Amazon Prime Video. The story is set in a time when the world was mostly at peace, and there were no ongoing wars between different clans of humans or other creatures. Cursed (2021) The fantasy drama "Cursed" is adapted from a graphic novel by Frank Miller (Daredevil) and Tom Wheeler (The Cape). The series has one season and was launched on Netflix in 2021. The television drama follows a strong female lead who is called the Lady of the Lake, and she is on a mission to protect her village from the shadow of evil.

She meets a young soldier named Arthur who is searching for a magical sword. The show is quite fascinating with its rich story and plot and is loved by many around the world. Sweet Tooth (2021- Present) Jim Mickle from "We Are What We Are" developed the fantasy show "Sweet Tooth," which is an adaptation of a book. Just like the mythical world of "Shadow and Bones," the show explores the magical characters who live in an epic world scenario. In the post-war world, there lived people who were hybrids of man and animals, and one such creature was Gus. It is the story of Gus finding his identity and long-lost mother. It is a beautiful story that is set in a unique land and at peculiar times. See more: Top 7 Series Like ‘Ted Lasso’ That You Should Add To Your Watchlist

[novelmonger]

The World Ends with You - I'm not too surprised this one didn't win, because I feel like it's...kind of obscure? I mean, it can't be that obscure, because it's gotten a sequel and an anime adaptation (which is REALLY GOOD btw 8D). But I never hear anybody talking about it, which makes me think nobody's played it. Which should really change! It's such a good game. Really good story with great characters, many more twists than I was expecting, and an excellent art style inspired by graffiti. What with all the graffiti and skateboards and rap music and such, it feels like a throwback to the early 2000s, which does this millennial's heart good <3 It's an action RPG, where you attack using pins that require various kinds of motions with the stylus - for example, with one pin you tap the screen to shoot bullets, for another you swipe up to make spikes shoot out of the ground, with another you grab a piece of debris lying on the ground and move it around to hit enemies. It's unique and there's lots of ways you can customize your play style, and it's challenging without being too frustrating (except for maybe the final boss battle x.x). If any of this sounds interesting, do yourself a favor and find a way to play this game - or at least watch the anime, which is a very good adaptation (though it's much shorter than the game, so unfortunately some great stuff got cut).

Myst IV: Revelation - Aw, nobody voted for this :( I'm actually playing this right now with my sisters! Personally, I think this is where the series should have ended; it has a really satisfying conclusion to all the threads presented thus far, and still has that pre-rendered still images + live-action footage charm that makes Myst consistent, unlike the changes they made with Myst V. Some of the acting is a little disappointing (especially Yeesha) after Brad Dourif's stand-out performance in the previous game, but it's still really nice to see where this family has ended up after all you've done to help them over the years. Like any Myst game, there are some puzzles that make you want to just rip your hair out, but all the same I feel like I've been taking fewer notes in this playthrough. Maybe that's because we're following a walkthrough more closely, though ^^'

The Last Guardian - Oh. My. Word. I love this game so much <3 Made by the same people who made ICO and Shadow of the Colossus, this game is about a boy who befriends a huge gryphon-like creature called a trico, and together the two of them try to escape the ruins they're stuck in. I feel like this game combines all the best things in both of the other Fumito Ueda games: You spend a lot of time climbing around, both on crumbling stone and on the back of a huge animal, but also the whole point of the story is that two characters who are very unlike each other have to learn how to work together to survive, even though they can't communicate with each other in the same way. The game is beautiful, sometimes soft and other times epic, and through the process of playing the game, I feel like I really developed a bond with Trico. I've played the game twice, and both times the ending had me bawling like a baby - partly because of the bittersweet nature of the story, but also partly because I was saying goodbye to a friend. AAAAAHHHHHH, more people need to play this game, it's so good! T^T

Professor Layton and the Curious Village - Wow, this barely beat out Transistor! This one is actually probably my least-favorite Professor Layton game, if I'm being honest ^^' It's the first one they made, so I feel like they were still working out a few of the kinks, and the story wasn't quite as involved or interesting as some of the later installments. Still really cute and charming, and I always love Layton and Luke and their addiction to puzzles XD

The Path - Huh, this was the one I wasn't expecting anyone to have played, but I guess I was wrong! I was really excited to play this game, but ended up being kind of underwhelmed once I actually got around to it. It's a horror game that sort of plays on Little Red Riding Hood, where you have to lead several characters down a path to Grandma's cottage. You're warned not to stray from the path, but you unlock different endings if you stick to the path, or if you leave the path and explore the somewhat desolate forest. There's a subtle story told in the things you find, but I was expecting things to come together in a different way than they did. Still, a cool aesthetic and a cool way of telling a story.

Uncharted 4: A Thief's End - Hands-down my favorite of the Uncharted series. The story is awesome, tying things up so satisfactorily, and including some really gut-wrenching and emotional scenes. Plus, I mean...this one is a story about brothers, so of course I'm going to like it XD Also, since this game was made for the PS4, the graphics are leaps and bounds ahead of the first three games. Also, the music was done by none other than Henry Jackman!!!!! I kept on noticing how both epic and emotional it was while I was playing it, and then I saw his name in the credits and was like, "Captain America, of course!"

The Awesome Adventures of Captain Spirit - *sigh* Not surprised that no one voted for this, since it's an unnecessary spin-off of the Life Is Strange franchise. But it's really good - and it's free on Steam! It's a short little oneshot where you play as a kid and take him through his typical Saturday morning. It's starts out as just cute fun, a kid playing with his toys and using his imagination to its fullest potential. But then you start to detect a darker undercurrent to his life, one that really tugs at your heartstrings. The boy is a character who shows up in one chapter of Life Is Strange 2, but you really don't need to play any of the other games to understand this one. Also, mercifully, this game is a lot cleaner than the main ones, so I actually feel like I can recommend it to most people I know ^^'

Transistor - Almost won, but not quite! You know...this is one of those weird instances where I can say that a game is objectively good, but for some reason I just didn't like it that much. I'm not sure why - maybe I just played it at the wrong time or something? But I just couldn't get invested in the characters at all, and the gameplay was good, but not fun enough to make up for how little I cared about the story. The aesthetic of the game is really cool, though.

Arbitrarily-Chosen Video Game Tournament, Round 1.23

Welcome to the Arbitrarily-Chosen Video Game Tournament, where we will find out which of the games I've played is the best game of all time!

Why? Don't ask. Just vote and reblog!

[triplechain]

an assortment of CoH lore i made up baybeeeee

CADENCE OF HYRULE TAKES PLACE AFTER THE TIMELINES RECONVERGE. It's not immediately after, but it's soon enough after that history is still messy. Records agree right up until the aftermath of the Hyrulean Civil War, sometimes called the "Era of the Hero of Time", but after that point things split off.

ZORA

The Zora around Lake Hylia you can talk to are "Lake Zora", while the enemy ones are "Wetland Zora". They're basically the same still genetically but some said "let's be chill" and others chose violence. It hasn't really been that long since the lake Zora moved in and have tried to distinguish themselves.

There... really isn't a distinction between the two outside of general location. There are Lake Zora that still retain the ability to shoot projectiles and there are Wetland Zora that prefer a more chilled-out life.

The in-universe reason there's so few Zora around the lake is cause most of them are underwater in the domain. Just the surface froze over, really, but it's fairly thick ice and the escape routes are mostly surrounded by enemies

Wetland and Lake Zora have less visible diversity between the male and female Zora when compared to the Sea Zora. Female Zora typically have more scale patterns, though. no weird fish boobs

Eventually Sea Zora (AKA the friendly Zora as we know them from OoT, TP, OoA, etc.) will return to Hyrule. they're just... elsewhere right now

GORON

There's more than just the one Goron, there's more around and on the other side of Death Mountain. Goron are everywhere

(seriously, the Goron are one of three races to have survived from Skyward Sword to Breath of the Wild. They travel. They're eternal.)

Because of their location, Goron were more or less unaffected by Octavo's actions.

The Temple of Storms might actually be a Goron temple... maybe. idk.

RITO

Rito also exist, mainly in two groups: more human-like (WW) and more bird-like (BotW). The more bird-like Rito have adapted to fly longer distances, while the more human-like Rito are more prevalent on Dragon Roost Island. Some might've sailed across the ocean to try and find new lands, though.

There is a Rito settlement being established in Hyrule, but it's still early in its lifespan and it's more of a place for long-distance fliers to rest before returning home.

The Rito Feather found in game is probably actually a Roc's Feather, but Link has no idea what it is and knows there's bird people so. Rito Feather.

SKID, DEKU SCRUBS, AND KOROK

Korok and Deku Scrubs are trying the whole "living in the same place in harmony" thing but it's. rough.

No one's sure when Skid was created or where exactly he came from considering the Kokiri are all supposed to be dead...

Deku Village does exist in the present day of CoH, it's just much more hidden

GERUDO

Ganondorf is like 12

Chief Barriara is only the leader of the Gerudo because Ganondorf is too young

The Gerudo's more mechanic-focused lifestyle is certainly a strange one given their usual role in history, but they're some of the best engineers Hyrule has ever seen. Some even say they rival the Sheikah's prowess...

OCTAVO

Family heirloom is the gemstone from the Minish Cap, got picked up by an ancestor and has been passed down through the family since

Might have a little bit of Minish somewhere in there because of Vaati's action back in the day...

Family has always been a bit more magically inclined, but Fireball and Haste are unusual even for them

After putting the castle to sleep and enchanting some of the guards, he broke into the Royal Library's restricted section because he wanted to know more. The Sheikah librarian held him at knifepoint. Octavo forgot about the Sheikah.

THE SHEIKAH

Still serving the crown! They're just doing a lot more of the "hiding in shadows" part and defending the sleeping king and others they come across in the game

The Royal Library is monitored by them. No one gets in or out without their knowledge.

No one knows for sure how connected the wise potion women are to the Sheikah. Mostly because most folks don't realize those women are the Fates.

The Lute used to teleport is Sheikah tech, but the Sheikah eye on it has faded with time.

To a degree, they understand where Octavo was coming from. The reincarnation cycle is set to continue ad infinitum, but they had preparations in place already. Said preparations were kept under wraps, of course, because let's be real, who's actually gonna trust a bunch of highly advanced ninja scientists

Still, perhaps it would be for the best if they made more... visible preparations, as well.

ADDITIONAL LORE/IDEAS

One of the big things Tempo establishes with the help of other races is a cultural music festival. Bringing people from Hyrule and beyond together for a few days of music and dance and commerce, in part to remember the time Octavo tried to take over the castle (whoops) and in part to bring everyone together more. It's... huge.

Kakariko isn't the only settlement because that's ridiculous

The only masks Skid knows for a FACT have souls in them are the Darknut and Skull masks (the former because he more or less saw it happen, the latter because. well. plot.)

Rhythm, Tempo, Cadence, Skid, and Yves ALL worked together to defeat Skull Ganon because hell yeah intertwining stories

> "oh so do they get the future instruments" also yes. Rhythm, Tempo, and Yves help Skid get the Bongos, but then the group probably parts ways for a while so the present team can wrap up their collection and Skid can get the Synth (because man oh MAN would the Bongos be easier to get with more items available from Rhythm)

>>> ...i should put the Hero's Medallion into Skid's design somewhere huh.

[this might change] Yves is from the future; Skid is from the present

[goldensart]

One of the things I was always curious to see more after the toyline’s end was how the MU inhabitants would adapt to Spherus Magna. It was such an interesting concept to have a completely different lifestyle. The ones that would be most interesting would be the Turaga. I mean, they are leaders, but now there is a much bigger world to cover, so I had some ideas of what would each of them be doing.

Vakama: One of the easiest to make, in my opinion. He’s a leader, a guide, but he’s also a storyteller, and now he has 2 species worth of new audience memebers to tell his stories to. Not to mention that, now that they don’t live in a barren wasteland, both Glatorian and Agori have started to have more babies, which means he constantly has new generations eager to hear his stories. He also keeps active as a leader, being a calm guide others go to when needing  guidance. He’s also a reliable Turaga that makes other leaders, like Raanu, calm and hopeful about the future of their tribes. Still,  within him, the heart of a craftsman still lingers, and while some of his siblings might tell him its a waste of time, every now and then a suspiciously high quality kanohi shows up in the warehouse. 

Nokama: Calm and serene, yet strong, Nokama still guides any villagers that prefer to live near bodies of water. The most spiritual of the 6, she attracts those who seek knowledge. Being once a teacher, she takes this with stride, as with their civilization being a union of various different cultures, there is a lot to teach, both from the old worlds of Bara Magan and the MU, and from the newly reformed Spherus Magna. Few things make her happier than the expression of awe her students have when she explains a new concept. Seeing the flame of curiosity light up in their eyes makes it all worth it. Still, old habits die hard, and stubborn is as stubborn those, so new students are advised to behave, lest they get a stern lecture.

Matau: Easily the most easygoing of them all, to the point some wonder if he should be considered a leader at all. Luckily, he is more than capable. With Spherus Magana being safer than Le-wahi, his security-related responsibilities are greatly lessened, meaning he has more free time, to the detriment of others. Be it pushing for the developement of crazier and crazier vehicles, or playing pranks on other leaders, he always has the time for a laugh, which makes him quite popular with the younger Agori, Glatorian and Matoran. Some might say this makes him a bad influence on them, but his easygoing demeanor means  that whenever a villager needs advice, but considers their problems to unimportant for the other leaders, they got to Matau, knowing that, be it a scolding or reassurance, he will tell them what they need to hear, and make them laugh with every word. He walso has an amazing singing voice.

Onewa: Basically a blessing in the early days of the new village, his skill in moderating arguments made sure the union of cultures went as smooth as possible. This skill continues to this day, acting as a judge between disputes. He is so succesfull some joke he could have stopped the Core War had he just sat down with the elemental Lords to talk it out. He also keeps the culture of sports alive in the new village. Organizing leagues between Matoran, Agori, Glatorian, and even Toa (sometimes even mixed teams), and making sure the games are all fair. Be it Kolhii, Akilini, or even the gladiatorial matches the Agori and Glaotrian insisted be kept, though now way less lethal, if there is a sport to be played, Onewa will make sure it is played fairly. Also known for making amazing sculptures that go for thousands of widgets. That said, stone is not easily changed, and his anger still lingers beneath. Those unfortunate enough to have provoced it say that while his judgement skill could’ve stopped the Core War, they also say that even the Great Beings couldn’t stop his anger.

Whenua: While all the Turaga were happy to lead their people, his joy when arriving to Spherus Magna was compared to a Muaka in a Rahkshi den. Still a leader and guardian to his people, Whenua’s calling was to uncover and catalogue as many of the secrets of Spherus Magna’s spast as possible. Quickly organizing and bulding what is now called the Archives Museum, which eventually grew bigger than even Metru Nui’s Colusseum, he led similar-minded individuals in the search of memories from the distant past. From the earliest tools made of exsidian, to the first recorded conflinct, long before the Core war, he uncovered hundreds of memories the planet itself had forgotten. One of his proudest moments was the discovery of a bone that was incrdibly old, something that didin’t exists in the entirety of the MU; a fossil. With energy he hadn’t had since he first transformed into a Toa, Whenua led teams and organized dig sites, uncovering thousands of bones and stories. And as a Turaga of earth, it was easy. The earth spoke to him, telling him its memories, of when had the bones joined it. Whenua was able to date them to the dacade. He created an incredibly complete fossil record, uncovering evolutionary lineages, making discovery after discovery. Amongst his favourites were the fact that the rock steeds are distantly related to the creatures of Bota Magna, pinpointing the moment in time when the common ancestor of both the Agorit and the Glatorian first divided into groups that would become the species, the moment were the Skrall had evolved so much they could be considered a new species. From the evolution of species, to relics of civilizations older than the agori, whenua’s Museum held knowledge of everything the past could give. And the inhabitants of the mega-city knew who to go with when having questions, for Whenua was the speaker of the past, and the past is the best teacher one could have.

Nuju: Guiding those who preferred colder places, Nuju kept his mannerisms and character. Still speaking only in the language of birds, though thankfully appointing a translator, Nuju continued to look for any signs of what the future might hold. From star-gazing, to bird-watching, Nuju became an expert in predicting things like storms migrations, and even an armed conflict or two. Population movement, air pressure, for those who paid attention, the future was an open book. Still, while he kept the horizon on sight, his eyes were firmly on his people, looking for the future, but never forgetting about the present. Using his knowledge, he warned and prepared for hardships to come, saving countless lives. This skill made him popular with tribe members anxious about the future, many coming to him asking what to expect. His answer, while found unsatisfactory by some, was what many of them needed; “I can’t tell you how the future will go, all I can do is prepare myself for it as best as I can, and to take it when it comes”

Dume: The least joyful arriving on Spherus Magan, Dume had no interest in knowledge, teaching or stories, for him, only one thing mattered, the safety of his people. For thousands of years he had kept the city of Metru Nui safe, and this one would not be different. Still, he only had failed his city once, and that was a wound he would never forget. When ruling Metru Nui, he had kept his distance from his people so, when he was replaced by Makuta, nobody was close enough to him to notice. And so, the tyrant had free rign over his city, eventually leading to its doom. He wouldn’t fail his new city that way. His distance had given him the strenght to protect his city, but it had also been its downfall. And, while he now had 6 Turaga and other tribe leaders to rule beside him, one could never be too cautious. Organizing extreme security measures; passwords, secret codes, etc. Dume made sure he would never be replaced again, and if he were, it would be instantly obvious. He even kept a few bodyguards close to him and, while never becoming close enough to be called friends, it was the closest he had being to another beign since his Toa team. And this worked, as any time his people were threatened, Dume faced the threat with a will that would make a Toa of Iron blush. No matter the enemy, no matter the danger, Dume stood fast. This gained him a reputation , both with his people and his enemies. Rumors spread about him, some said he was once a Toa of iron that had willed himself tthrough a furnace and came out a Toa of fire, other said that he had stared down the Shadowed One himself. His reputation amongst his enemies was no less impressive, Skraall, Bone Hunters and Dark Hunters alike spoke in hushed tones about the “Red Judge”, who would command a legion of Toa to capture anyone who disrupted his peace,never to be seen again. Others claiming him to be a Toa, a Makuta, or even a Great Beign in disguise. Dume never cared for any of these rumors, all he cared was that his people were safe. 

[txemrn]

The Missionary's Daughter

Ch. 1: "Meant to Live"

Need to catch up? Prologue: "It's Over"

Chapter Song Inspo: "Meant to Live" by Switchfoot

Series Song Inspo: "Changed by You" by Between the Trees

Pairings: Drake Walker x OC (Margot Hughes); Liam Rys x Riley Brooks

Series Warning: 🛑 for mature audiences only (🔞); series contains angst, language, NSFW🍋 material; trigger warning: heavy discussion/depiction of drug and alcohol abuse, suicide, religion, mental health; please be advised and exercise discretion

A/N: When I say that this took a village, it would be the understatement of the century! Huuuuuuuuge thank you to all of my amazing sweet writing sisters that encouraged me and helped me pull this together, but especially to @charlotteg234 for brainstorming and mapping this out with me, @kat-tia801 for doing the same, but then having to deal with me incessantly asking, "Does this sound right?" and @chemist-ana FOR GIFITNG ME MY FREAKING AMAZING MOODBOARD! It's SO beautiful, and it literally puts me in the mood to write about my Druggy Drake and Margot! Thank you so, so much, friend! Most of the characters and some of the plot belong to our friends at Pixelberry.

A palpable crackle ignites the sterile air of the staff locker room. To say she was ‘nervous’ is a painfully severe understatement to the jitters that spark from her fingertips. But, rather than dance chaotically like cut wires on pavement, she is lightning, mesmerizing, lighting up the sky with excitement and power.

***

Dressing for another Monday morning at her weekly volunteer job at the prestigious Cordonia Family OB/GYN, Margot Hughes swiftly shimmies a monogrammed ceil blue scrub top down her curves. Pulling her brilliant strands of autumn harvest into a high bun, she slips on her work clogs while nudging her locker closed with her knee.

Before leaving the changing area, she catches her visage in the mirror, the unflattering fluorescent lights casting more shadows onto her worried features. She can feel the rumble of her rapid heartbeat echoing in her ears; her chest constricts tightly as her breathing becomes shallow. Her eyes begin to sting with fear as the whites burn red, threatening with a glaze of tears.

Today is the day her entire life will change; everything she has ever wanted, everything that she has ever worked for will suddenly determine the course of her future in a single moment. Seeing the all-too-familiar terror in her eyes, Margot flutters her eyelids shut. Her fingers nervously trace along a simple chain around her neck until they finally grasp tightly to a dainty sterling silver charm: a cross.

“Take my anxieties, Lord,” she whispers with prayerful conviction, her sparkling blue eyes gracefully opening to look at her necklace. She exhales deeply. “Your will be done.” Margot stares at her reflection for a few more moments, focusing on her breathing to calm her restless heart. “You are strong, Margot. You've got this,” she affirms herself in a hushed tone, a bright smile breaking across her face. “This is your day--" suddenly overwhelmed with peace, a joyous smile paints across her face. Chuckling to herself, she glances upwards: “I'm counting on You.” Taking a deep cleansing breath, she eagerly exits the stillness of her thoughts, and joins the bustle of the morning's clinic appointments. Today is her day.

***

Halos of blurred auras bleach his vision as Drake cautiously opens one blood-shot eye. His tongue sticks to the roof of his roughly parched mouth as he massages his pained forehead. Clueless of what day it is--much less what he did last night--he is greeted with a sudden glorious sensation: a supple wet mouth on his hardened morning length.

His body relaxes back onto the dampened, disheveled sheets of his bed; he releases a pleasurable exhale as he blindly reaches for the head behind the lips. He strains to focus his view, but can only make out a foggy shape of a nude woman with long, tousled brunette waves.

It’s her. His love.

Drake smiles; delicately tangling his grip in her strands, he admires how even the afternoon sun catches her beauty perfectly. He quietly smacks his lips. He can still smell her on his stubble; he can still taste her on his tongue.

Had she told Liam? Were they celebrating that they could finally be together?

As she takes in the head of his girth, he arches his back, relaxing his body into her hungry touch. Closing his eyes, he offers a guttural groan deep in his chest as she swirls her tongue around his firm thickness.

“God, you’re incredible, Riley--”

---

Pulling out a pen, Margot reaches across the counter to grab a patient’s clipboard--that is until Iris, the front desk manager grips her long, manicured nails to the other side of the particle wood. “Miss Mary-Margaret,” she leans in conspiratorially, lowering her voice, “do we know anything yet?” Margot chuckles, shaking her head. “Child, you better come find me the moment you know!”

“Only if you promise to start calling me ‘Margot’” the young blonde jests, opening her client’s chart.

“How about I start calling you what we’ll all be calling you in just a few short years: ‘doctor’?” Rosy pink swirls splash across Margot’s face, warming her cheeks to the touch. She bows her head coyly at the mention of her dream becoming a reality. The thought that she will soon find out if a medical career is in her future makes the twenty-one-year-old’s heart leap with unbridled excitement.

For as long as she can remember, Margot has had a strong desire to serve and help other people. Much of that selfless attitude was instilled into her heart by her own parents. They were called to be Christian missionaries when Margot was only eight years old. After much planning, church fund-raising, and prayer, Roy and Mary Hughes left their comfortable home of Lafayette, Louisiana, and settled in the small Mediterranean country of Cordonia.

Many of their friends and family were shocked that the church would send them to such a beautiful area of the world. Typically missionaries humble themselves to serve the needy, the homeless, the lonely and the sick. They sacrifice the luxuries of home for the sake of loving humanity. They help people in war-torn countries, third-world countries, countries that don’t have electricity or running water. But, this country?

Cordonia itself is a lavish nation, rich in heritage and traditions. And funds. Thanks to the ideal weather conditions, the fruitful soil produces bountiful harvests and exquisite supplies for fine textiles that remain in high demand throughout the world. The Cordonian government, a monarchy, discovered a new opportunity to expand their wealth in the late 19th century: costly tariffs to international investors. Within the first ten years of increasing the taxes on exports, the national treasury was not only in the black, but their funds had exponentially increased every year. Farms were flourishing as the working class became larger, stronger.

But, the treasury began to dwindle quickly due to the extravagant demands of the royals. For the first time in the country's history, commoners were wealthier than some of the nobility. Disdain from the upper class quickly ensued until finally, in the early 20th century under the rule of William I, a new tax law was implemented to all of Cordonia: anyone involved with international exchange would have to pay into the treasury to handle such business.

Unfortunately, there were no limitations to this new tax law, and many farms floundered, property ownership being seized by the government. Families were uprooted; jobs were lost, and worse, assets were sold for even more money, filling the pockets of the greedy leaders. The people that once had a plethora of goods at their fingertips were now starving and unsheltered. And vengeful. The Cordonians were outraged by the gouging, many of them forming violent riots, banding together with outside influencers in hopes of overthrowing the government.

On the cusp of a civil war, King William I decided to rezone the country, providing a place for the displaced working class to claim safety and sanctuary, a place that would offer shelter, education, and more affordable options for goods. To appease the people even more, he named the project ‘the Core,’ paying homage to their greatest export, the Cordonian Ruby. It was also a way for him to forever express his gratitude for such a fruitful nation: they were the core reason the nation was thriving so richly.

Like many government-assisted programs, it didn’t take long for the cracks to show in the infrastructure. And with funding cuts over the years, the Core began to crumble, striking a sharp contrast from the rest of Cordonia. The Core, now often referred to as ‘the slums’, have become a breeding ground for crime, drugs, and prostitution. It is the blemish of Cordonia, its existence often not acknowledged amongst the elite.

But, according to the Hughes, ‘God saw the need’. They were sent to serve in the slums of Cordonia, starting up several free programs, including a nightly soup kitchen, afterschool programs to keep children out of trouble, and trade classes to help adults out of poverty. The people accepted the help and adapted quickly to the missionaries; but even more importantly, they embraced these Americans as their own, many of them forming important and lasting relationships with the Hughes.

But, still there was something missing, something that burdened the missionary’s oldest daughter: healthcare. Having good health and access to a doctor is still treated as a privilege in Cordonia, and time and time again, the curable were disabled or buried. A change needed to take place. And Margot, although unsure of how, knew she would devote her life in making it happen for the Cordonian people.

As she makes a few notes on her clipboard, an olive-complected arm stealthily reaches around Margot, gracefully grazing her sun-kissed skin before gently placing a cup of piping hot black coffee in front of her. Staring at the hand, she instantly knows who it is. And she titters, playfully rolling her eyes. “Tadd! Another coffee?” She grabs the coffee, twirling on the ball of her foot to face the clinic’s young ultrasound technician. "My tab must be over a hundred euros by now!"

"Oh, don't you worry about that," he chuckles, rocking on his feet. “Plus, I figured with your new gig at Bríki--” he jovially shrugs his shoulders.

“You figured what?” Margot playfully punches his shoulder. “That I could sneak you free coffee?” She gives a mischievous smile, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think Mr. Pavlis would appreciate me offering free drinks, especially since I haven’t even started yet--”

“That’s right!” Tadd eyes widen. “Today’s the day--!”

“As if I didn’t already have enough to be nervous about today,” Margot’s voice becomes shaky, as she clenches her teeth in a forced smile.

“Hey,” Tadd’s voice turns into an endearing whisper. He shifts his head until his piercing jade eyes meet Margot’s baby blues. “You have nothing to worry about. We both know you did well on that American doctor test--"

"The MCAT," Margot stifles a laugh, rolling her eyes into an appreciative grin.

"Whatever," a crooked smile grows across Tadd's handsome features. "And as far as the coffee shop, you're a fast learner. And a hard worker. Plus, if they see what we all see in you--" he sighs, his gaze never breaking free from hers, "-- they're going to love you."

Margot looks down at her feet, hugging her clipboard tightly to her chest. Feeling her palms begin to sweat, she coyly looks back up at her dear friend. "Thanks, Tadd."

After a few silent moments of staring at each other, Tadd clears his throat. "So, um--" he starts, "have you heard anything yet? About the test?" Tadd changes the subject. Margot shakes her head as she takes a pull from her coffee. "Well, when you do, um, maybe we could, I mean, I thought we could--"

Suddenly an intercom buzzes overhead. "Thaddeus to exam room four. Thaddeus to exam room four."

Tadd furrows his eyebrows, looking to the ceiling before resting a kind half-smile back on Margot. "Duty calls," he nervously sighs as he bounds down the hallway. Halfway down the corridor, he spins around to face Margot. "Hey, um, come find me! Before you leave at noon!" He finger-guns the air before returning to his pursuit.

Margot awkwardly finger-guns him back before smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Seriously, Margot?" she mutters to herself, turning her attention back to the central desk of the clinic; however, she realizes quickly that the attention is all on her.

"When are you two going to make it official, Miss Mary-Margaret?" Iris chokes in the midst of her belly laughs, nodding with other scrub-adorned coworkers.

Biting her bottom lip feeling her heart flutter, Margot straightens out her demeanor, becoming stoic. "I--I don't know what you're talking about--"

"Margot, isn't it obvious?" Chimes in a jolly intake nurse. "That boy loves you--!"

"Who? Tadd?" Margot feigns innocence. She fixes her attention to the chart as she scribbles down more notes. "It's not like that--I mean, we're not, um--" she sighs. "We're just friends--" An instant roar of laughter abrupts from the reception desk, making it impossible for Margot to hide her toothy-smile paired with her scrunched up nose.

"You say that now, baby girl--"

"That's right," chimes in another giggling co-worker, "friends for now!"

An older plump nurse places a tender hand on Margot’s hand, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Some of the best relationships come from friendships, moró. Give it time. Let the love grow," she winks at Margot.

Margot fidgets with her pen, delicately licking her bottom lip. She then tries to form words with her mouth, but no sound is heard. Her pink cheeks reveal she is flustered. She quickly closes up the chart, pushing loose hairs behind her ear. "Have a good day, ladies."

Hearing the squeals of her coworkers diminishing behind her, Margot quickly escapes into an empty exam room. Closing the door behind her, she leans against it, looking up at the textured ceiling tiles. She can feel the butterflies in her stomach bouncing through to her heart as her legs wiggle with weakness like gelatin.

The idea of 'falling in love' excites Margot, an idea she has dreamed about ever since she saw Baby meet Johnny. But, so far in her young life, she has never experienced it first hand, let alone a romantic hand- hold. Was this love? All she knew for sure was today was not the day to figure it out.

***

As soon as Riley’s name escapes his breathless moans of ecstasy, a searing sharp pain instantly ignites around his hardened girth. And Drake sees red.

"Fuck!" He lets out a guttural roar until no sound comes out of his mouth. He gnashes his teeth, trying to breathe through the agony, but only froths at the corners of his lips. The veins in his neck and his forehead protrude violently as streams of tears roll down his face. Petrified to move, his face turns a deep ruddy color. Before turning violet.

A sudden sensation of relief washes over him as the stabbing sensation fades to throbbing. Drake nervously looks down at his softening cock, relieved to see his member in one piece. "Goddamnit, Brooks," he pants furiously, "you fucking bit me--"

The brunette quickly tosses her curls out of her eyesight right before her fist meets Drake's jaw. "Oh, shit!" The cracking of the joints in his face echoes around the room. Drake starts to gently massage his chin. "You're not Riley--"

She climbs off of his body, standing her naked body in front of him. "No shit, Sherlock!" She slinks her short black spaghetti-strap dress over her dangerous curves before hastily grabbing her clear platform heels and racing out the door. "Fuck you, Drake Walker!"

***

A heartless, cocky laugh pours over the phone speaker. "Shit, Walker. Just--" the baritone voice trails back into a fit of laughter.

"It's not funny, Leo--" Drake warns, accidentally shifting his weight in bed, stirring a soreness to his recent injuries. "Ow!” he sucks air quickly between his gritted teeth, “fuck!" he whimpers to himself, adjusting the cold packs on his genitals.

"But you actually called her a different name, bro. A different name! With her mouth on your salami, your pocket rocket, on your--on your anaconda--" Leo's words fade back into cackles.

"As if you remember every goddamn hook-up’s name--"

"Dude," Leo interrupts, "if she's going to go all hungry, hungry hippo mid-blowie, I'm going to remember her name."

Drake scoffs. "Bullshit--"

"What? I'm serious, bro" Leo's voice becomes sincere. "All of these bitches we meet are looking for one thing--" he pauses dramatically for his wounded friend to finish his sentence; but the silence proves Drake is clueless as to where Leo was going with this. "A connection, Walker!" Leo's voice drips with conviction. "These women don't want to feel like they're disposable, even though--" he chuckles to himself, “let’s be honest: we’re doing them a favor--”

"--’A connection’, Leo" Drake interrupts, urging the conversation back on track.

"Right! ‘A connection," reaffirms Leo, circling back to his point. "Now, okay,” he knowingly titters, “I can’t remember all of these names--”

“Ha! See?” Drake barks.

“--Which is why--” Leo enunciates over Drake, “I use a single pet name. ‘Girl’.”

"'Girl'? That’s your trick? You call them 'girl'?" Drake raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Hear me out,” Leo continues. “If you call them something like ‘baby’ or ‘sweetie’, it can be seen as patronizing, that you’re clearly looking to smooth-talk your way into their pants--” Drake rolls his eyes, moving the phone to his other ear “--but now, calling them ‘girl’, I’m showing I want to be a friend, that I just simply want to connect. And then when you’re having your way with her, call her whatever the fuck you want as long as you finish the name with ‘girl’. Good girl. Dirty girl. Naughty girl. Sweet girl. Or in your case, hungry girl--”

Drake clears his throat, stifling a laugh. “--That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard--”

“Hey!” Leo interjects. “Who is wearing a bag of frozen peas on his one-eyed trouser snake?”

“Touché,” Drake sighs. “So, where are you right now?”

“With Jason up at his shop.”

“Who?” Drake lets out yawn, looking at his bedside alarm clock.

“Shit, Walker, you really were fucked up last night," Leo sighs. "Jason. You met him last night.” Leo’s voice lowers into a whisper. “He helped you get fucked up last night.”

“Oh! Right, right,” Drake rubs his head, “that was--wow, that shit was--”

“Good, right?” Leo finishes. “Hey, come join us at his shop. We’ve got coffee, and he’s got some new, um, product he’d love to show you--”

“Oh, Leo, I don’t know--” Drake removes the melting bag of vegetables from his lap. Gently lifting up on the waistband of his boxers, carefully inspecting his bruised parts.

“Does Liam have you working today?”

“No, no, it’s not that--” Drake hesitates.

“Oh!” Leo knowingly exclaims. “Does Riley have you working today?” He begins to chuckle. “You might need to let her know that you’re currently indisposed for --”

“Leo--” Drake warns.

“Then what's the hold up?"

Drake glances over at the mirror affixed to his antique dresser, but he doesn't recognize his own reflection. There's an emptiness in eyes, an inexplicable turmoil overcoming the man he once was. How did everything get so complicated? How did he get to such a place that it's better to be absent in life than to live it?

She was just a friend--at least that's what he convinced himself when Riley Brooks first caught his eye. Beautiful. Extremely witty with a fight he had never seen before. When they first kissed, he swore it was a mistake. Hormones. It had been so long since he had touched the delicate petals of a woman's lips.

But, this wasn't just any woman. It was her. And he soon would find himself wrapped up in her bedsheets, wrapped around her finger, wrapped in an awful web of lies.

And, all of his transgressions were against him, his very best friend, the man he regards as closer than a brother, his closest ally and confidant. Normally, Drake would turn to Liam in a heartbeat with any troubles, but this? How could he? How could he talk to Liam about his own devastation when the truth would devastate Liam?

It's been four days since that fateful night of Liam's coronation, four days since the love of Drake's life walked away from him, forcing his hand into harboring secrets from the crowned prince. It's been four days since Drake heard his own voice in his head, four days since he's been sober enough to even think. Even though he deemed the temporary escape necessary, the sudden twinge of discomfort in his groin makes him realize that taking another hit right now is the absolute last thing he needs.

"I think I better stay put," Drake answers, combing his fingers through his disheveled tresses.

"Suit yourself," Leo jovially retorts. "If you need any oxy for your boo-boo, hit me up--Oh, and Drake?"

“Hrmmm?”

"Her name is Whitney."

"What?"

"Jaws? You know, the bitch who chewed on your Moby Dick?" Drake sighs heavily, regretting that he ever told Leo what had happened. "Her name is Whitney."

Drake furrows his eyebrows. "Now, how do you remember her name--?"

"Oh, bro, you don't forget WAP Whitney--oh shit, you probably haven't gotten a good look at your sheets this morning, have you?"

With a grunt, Drake ends the call. “Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath. He carefully gets up, waddling to grab his clothes before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

In the middle of splashing his face with cold, soapy water, Drake's phone rings. Grabbing a hand towel he carefully saunters back to his room, answering the call without hesitation. "Just let it go, Leo--”

"Drake?"

An icy chill shoots down Drake’s spine, freezing him in his steps. He knows that melodic voice anywhere, a voice that reminds him of early morning sunrises and late night silver moonlit paths. “H-hey, Riley,” he stutters, caught off guard. A brief awkward stillness falls over the conversation. “How are you--?”

“I miss you, Drake,” she interrupts.

Drake’s vision suddenly begins to spin as the air in the room becomes stagnant. Stiffening his bottom lip in anger, his breathing quickens as he reaches out carefully to brace himself against the wall.

“Drake?”

“I’m here,” he chokes out. “What do you want, Brooks?” He can hear the tears in her voice, but he wills himself not to care, he wills himself to not even ask.

“Drake, I think I made a mistake--”

“No,” Drake barks out, “no, you can’t do this to me--”

“Drake, please,” Riley sobs, “I’m on my way to the doctor--”

“The doctor?” Drake’s tone suddenly changes. “Are you okay? Is everything with--um, you know--” he slaps his forehead with the palm of his hand, “--okay?”

“Yes--” she sniffles, “--no. I just, I can’t do this alone, Drake. I can’t do this--”

“Riley--” he roughly says her name to grab her attention, “you made your decision: you chose Liam. You want to raise our baby--my baby with him--”

“Don’t you think I want to have this baby with you? That’s all I can even think about Drake,” she takes a moment to calm down her shaking voice. “I love you, Drake. I want a life with you. I want you to be there when this baby is born, when this baby needs his or her father--when this baby needs you--”

“Riley--” Drake exhales with frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose, “--but Liam--”

“I know, Drake. I know--” Riley takes a deep breath, “Can we just talk? In person? Just so we can figure this out? I can come over there--”

“Brooks, I--” Drake stumbles over his words as he runs his fingers over his coarse, overgrown stubble. Of course, he wants her to come over. And to stay. But, has anything changed? Liam just proposed, and she made it clear what her intentions were. But, still, it’s possible she had a change of heart, and this was a second chance he may never get again. He sighs heavily. “Sure. Okay."

After finishing his impromptu conversation with Riley, Drake realizes he needs to make another phone call. He scrolls through his call history, and clicks the green send button.

"Did you change your mind, Evander Holyfield?"

"Funny, Leo," Drake sarcastically responds. "So, yeah, um, what's the address to the shop?"

***

“Does that--does that say what I think it says?” Margot nervously stammers. "I think I saw my score--oh gosh!"

“Here. Let me look--”

Margot quickly covers the computer screen with her hands, "No, Mrs. Iris!” Margot squeals. “I’m not ready--I’m not ready for this!”

“Child, you have been ready for this for months. Now, if you don’t get your hands out of the way--"

"What's with all the commotion?" A few technicians and nurses pile into the room, each giving an endearing rub to Margot’s back. Everyone begins craning their necks to see the computer, covered by Margot's arms. "Is it time? Have they posted the scores?"

"They sure have!" answers Iris before turning to Margot. She tucks several blonde wisps behind Margot’s ear before putting her finger under her chin. "C'mon, baby," she smiles encouragingly, "it's more fun celebrating than worrying."

"I'm--" Margot takes a deep breath, biting back her tears, "--I'm so scared--"

"--and the Lord knew you would be, baby." Iris wrinkles her nose at Margot, her voice becoming stronger. "That's why He called you to be courageous. C'mon."

Margot bites her lip, slowly nodding her head. Feeling the storm brew in her eyes as the weight of the world sits on her chest, she carefully peels back her hands. Her eyes scale the black and white on the screen, but nothing seems to make sense. A burst of silence overwhelms her hearing, time standing perfectly still. Her only company is the beating of her heart.

Take my anxieties...

You have nothing to worry about…

Your will be done…

Be courageous...

Like suddenly breaking through the surface for air, an abrupt roar of cheers fill the room, shaking Margot from her trance. "Our baby girl got a 519!" screams a tearful Iris, pulling Margot from her seat and into a tight embrace. Other coworkers join in, creating a giant group hug.

Margot remains speechless, shocked by her score. She always knew she was an excellent student, studying hard all through school and excelling in her classes. When it came to the MCAT, she was confident she would score better than average, a score of 500. But, to even be noticed by top medical schools, she needed to score in the top 5%, a score 517 or greater.

News swept like wildfire through the clinic, and shortly thereafter, Tadd and some other technicians filed into the breakroom with a decorative chocolate cake and punch in tow. "I knew you could do it!" Tadd cheers victoriously, offering a chaste hug to Margot. "Dr. Hughes," he swipes his hand in the air as if to paint an imaginary portrait. "It has a nice ring to it."

"I still don't understand why you put yourself through all of that," mentions an older phlebotomist. "Cordonia has a medical school right down the road--"

"Because Margot wants to go to one of the best medical schools in the world," interrupts a deeply demanding, yet sincere voice. “To Harvard. Like me.”

"Dr. Ramirez," Margot smiles brightly, jumping up to greet her mentor with a hug.

"That is, you are still looking at my alma mater for medical school--"

"Yes ma'am!" Margot's eyes light up with the thought that her dream of going to Harvard Medical School is becoming her reality. "It would be such an honor to go there, let alone to follow in your footsteps."

Dr. Ramirez pulls Margot in for another tight hug. "My word, Mary-Margaret, 519?" she presses her cheek to Margot's, "I am so proud of you."

"Thank you, Dr. Ramirez," Margot warmly responds, "thank you for taking a chance on me and helping me so much with my studies and research--"

"You know I did that for selfish reasons, right?" The practitioner stifles a smile while Margot squints her eyes with suspicion. "Cordonia needs more female physicians, and more importantly, physicians that will make a difference in its healthcare," she grips tightly to Margot’s hand, "for everyone. I believe you will lead this country in a health care reformation."

"I don't know what to say," Margot clears her throat as she fights back the tears. "I hope I make you proud--"

"You already do." Dr. Ramirez gently touches Margot's cheek lovingly before turning to exit the room.

"Oh!" Margot quickly chases after the obstetrician, “can I talk to you? Privately?” With a nod, Dr. Ramirez leads Margot into a quiet corner. “I know my work-study ends in two weeks--”

“I know. Don’t remind me, Margot--”

“Well, I was wondering,” Margot chews on the side of her mouth, fidgeting with her fingers, “if by any chance I could possibly stay on?”

“Oh, Margot, I wish I could. Unfortunately with budget cuts--”

Margot shakes her head. “No, no, Dr. Ramirez, I meant if I could stay on, shadowing my usual Monday and Thursday mornings, I mean, if that’s alright. Learn more? Keep up my skills?”

“You want to continue volunteering with us?” The doctor gives an inquisitive look. “Don’t you want to get a job to earn money before you move to the states next year?”

“I already got that covered,” Margot assuredly answers. “I just got a job at Bríki, the coffee shop past the square--”

“Oh my gosh,” Dr. Ramirez’s eyes light up. “Does Aleksi still own that place?”

“Mr. Pavlis? Yes! Him and his son run it together, I believe--”

“They have the best coffee,” she energetically smiles, “now I have another reason to stop by.” She kindly places her hand on Margot’s shoulder. “Of course, you can stay on as a volunteer. Whenever you want, however much you want. It is a pleasure to have you around.” With a squeeze of her arm, Dr. Ramirez turns to go to her next appointment, but stops halfway down the hall. “Oh, Margot? My nurse stepped away to make an important phone call. Do you mind escorting my next patient to the exam room?”

Margot dutifully nods with a grin. She twirls around, bounding for the front desk to grab the chart of Dr. Ramirez’s next patient, a new patient. After making a few small notes, Margot opens the door to call her back.

“Brooks? Riley Brooks?”

*****

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