#might look if a spirit is still looking for people

[five-rivers]

Little thing inspired by various Justice League summons Danny posts I've seen about.

.

Interdimensional travel was hard.

It was a true statement, and one that, in retrospect, was obvious. Of course interdimensional travel was hard. It was reaching out of your reality and into one that had an entirely different set of rules. However, having an interdimensional portal in one's basement tended to skew one's understanding of these things. That was why it took Danny so long to realize that the Observants were actually worried about him.

"Wait," he said, looking up from the (admittedly very passive-aggressive) report the crowd of Observants had just dropped on his (already crowded) desk. "You want to change my summoning ritual because you think other dimensions might hurt my human half?"

"Some of them certainly will," said one of the Observants, testily.

"I didn't know you cared about that," said Danny, still somewhat stunned.

"We normally wouldn't," admitted the Observant, "but although the position of Ghost King is, politically, a figurehead, you are metaphysically vital to the Realms as a whole. Damage to you is to be avoided, when possible."

"Uh huh," said Danny, looking back down at the summoning ritual change paperwork. Although, through a combination of Danny's own nature and the nature of time across dimensional barriers, Danny still looked fourteen and spent a great deal of his time going to school in Amity Park, he had years of experience interpreting the Observants' paperwork under his belt. "Yeah, it's just that I don't think this is the best way to, like. Do that."

"It is the best way to protect you!" said the Observant who had, apparently, been selected as the group's spokesperson.

"Maybe," agreed Danny, who wasn't entirely sure that was true. "But I feel like some of these modifications would kind of be a problem for wherever I wound up."

"Then they ought not to summon you."

While Danny agreed with that sentiment in spirit (getting summoned was almost always inconvenient and annoying), in practice, he wasn't so sure. "I don't think there's any way to communicate that to the guys who are summoning me. Like, some of them get me with old Pariah Dark rituals. And most of them don't really care if their mistakes screw over other people, so..."

"Next to the well-being of the Realms, that is a minor concern."

Danny didn't disagree with that, but he wasn't about to waste time arguing with the Observants about it. They just didn't get it. He tapped his finger on another section that was bothering him. "Also, this seems to keep me from getting out of the summoning circle at all. If someone is summoning me to ask for help, that's going to keep me from doing much."

"It will also keep you from inadvertently exiting into a hostile environment."

"Even in my home universe?" asked Danny, pointedly. "This seems like something more geared to imprisonment than protection."

The Observants were silent.

"Oh, come on, guys, really? Again?"

The Observants scattered.

Danny sighed and picked up the paperwork. He didn't think it was all bad ideas, honestly, but he needed a second opinion that hadn't tried to stuff him in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep Mark 2.

Maybe Clockwork would look it over for him.

.

"It isn't an entirely terrible concept," said Clockwork, "except for the obvious drawbacks."

"The whole being trapped in the summoning circle bit," said Danny.

Clockwork nodded. "To be fairer than they deserve, there is no way to modify that portion of a summoning ritual in some types of universes but not others. Not from our own side of things, in any case."

"And I mostly can't get at the other side," said Danny with a groan. He perched on the back of Clockwork's chair. "I do want to make sure that I, I don't know, fit with other universes enough that I won't completely demolish them just by existing."

Clockwork hummed. "There are some ways to do that. There are drawbacks, however."

"Bigger drawbacks than accidentally nuking a planet because my radiation is different than theirs?"

"It depends on your perspective, I suppose."

Danny sighed. "Go ahead and tell me, then."

Clockwork picked up a pen. "You are a shapeshifter. You have multiple forms, one of which cannot be harmed through any normal means and which similarly would have little negative affect on the environment unless you acted to cause negative effects. Change the current ritual so that a summoning puts you in that form, and then further change it so that you cannot leave the circle unless you are in a form that will not automatically cause harm or be harmed by the laws of that universe."

"You mean my Ghost King form."

"All your forms are your Ghost King form."

"You know what I mean."

"I do," said Clockwork, smiling.

"It freaks people out, though."

"Your current form might, as you say, freak people out," said Clockwork. "If your summoners were, say, ants."

"Is that likely?"

"Not particularly. But consider the multiverse. Not all of your summoners will be human."

Danny crossed his arms, frustrated that there wasn't an easy solution. "I guess I could always shapeshift into something nonthreatening after. Hard to see if it's something safe without running into

"You can do more than that."

"I can?"

"Yes," said Clockwork, setting the pen to paper. "Let me show you."

.

The summoning circle shimmered and shivered as Constantine and Zatanna recited the chant, their voices rising and falling. Batman and other members of the League stood by, watching, waiting.

This, this ritual, wasn't their first choice. It wasn't their second, third, or fourth choice, either. But nothing else they had tried worked, and the entire world was at stake.

They were summoning the King of All Ghosts. An eldritch monstrosity that had once tried to conquer all realities. But the alternative was worse. Much worst. At least, with the King of All Ghosts, there was a chance that they could negotiate and that it'd want the Earth more or less intact for the sake of conquering it. At least, with this kind of summoning, they could offer a sacrifice, a bargain, a deal.

And if Constantine was good at anything, it was deals.

The lines of the summoning circle flared green, then pure white, and, without any other fanfare, the King of All Ghosts was there.

It filled the circle with starry darkness, struck with nebulae and aurorae. The clouds rippled as a star died near its heart, fiery cataclysms spreading throughout the being. A crown like the accretion disk of a black hole burned around its highest extremity.

Something like a voice, echoing and many-layered, emanated from the being. "Nghftùsh phlarûm âzgûm (1)." It paused, and the League felt it examine the area more closely. "Ko wgâ âzgûm nghftùsh derza. Ko gok hubhûfh fhtù gâh mglwnuh...(2)"

Constantine swore. "Oh, bollocks, I don't know that one. Would it be too much to ask that one of these things speak English? Just a little?"

"Nghftùsh ak. Ko ngngi. (3)"

"Zatanna," said Batman, "could a spell let us understand one another?"

"Kù-nghînku bùr fùmúu umni snîgûrip. (4)" It seemed to bend closer for all that it didn't move. "Nghftùsh laglúfhâk krîk ko phlî ak phlorza. Chthe nî hîhnâ, ka. (5)"

"I think I understand a little," said Captain Marvel, raising a hand. "I think it understands us just fine."

"Hagthu. Nghftùsh ngngi ùk nî chthe kûmpù nû gâ. (6)"

"It wants to get out of the circle," said Captain Marvel.

The veils of green light that shrouded the being rippled. "Dal phlù. (7)"

"Not without an agreement in place, you're not," said Constantine.

"Gagthashîzgathg. (8)"

"God," whispered Flash, "that hurts my throat just hearing it."

Batman shot him a glare, then stepped forward. They'd prepared a list of demands. Most of them were negotiable, but it was better to start something like this with things you were willing to remove or throw away. It took several minutes for Batman to read the whole thing.

"Ku. Chthal lohúfhâk hagthu. Fhta nghftùsh kâk phlorza ko thru. (9)"

"What did it say?" asked Batman.

"I'm... I think it said it'll do it, but it needs something from us in return."

Batman nodded. They'd expected something like this. Whatever it asked for, it would, without a doubt, be exorbitant. Then, they'd go back and forth, reducing each of their demands until they'd reached a deal both sides hated, but could accept. Constantine had bet that, at minimum, the King of All Ghosts would want the entire population of Earth as slaves.

"Nghftùsh kâk hû ko mglwno nî phnglâ gho-lobi. (10)"

"Uh," said Captain Marvel. "I think he said one of our lives."

"Hik! Rlo phlarâk kruk nîk ghû. (11)"

"Not just any of us," said Marvel. "It has to be someone who's a parent."

A tension fell over the room. They'd known they'd have to sacrifice something. A single life wasn't much, but for the King of All Ghosts to specify a parent...

"But are you sure it's just one?" pressed Constantine.

The King of All Ghosts gave off a sense of... exasperation? "Úzg, hû. (12)"

"One," said Captain Marvel. "Just one."

"And just us, not our kids or anything?"

"Nghftùsh ngngi ùk e nghuu. Gù phlarâk fush ko du? (13)"

"No, it doesn't want children. They're... wrong, somehow?"

"And it's not a sex thing?" Constantine sounded... strangely hopeful.

"Hik! Fhtùl! (14)"

"No," said Captain Marvel. "And... something about fat, maybe?"

"Oh, we're definitely getting eaten, then," said Constantine, with forced cheer. "I volunteer, then. It's not like my kids are sitting up waiting for me or anything."

"Hik nuk. Ngngi ko. E hâta phlarâk lerzaolûm. (15)"

"Not you, there's... something wrong with your soul."

"Oh, he's a picky eater, too, huh?"

"Let's not antagonize him, okay?" said Flash. "He's kind of-- He's kind of looming, right now."

And so it was. Somehow. Without moving.

"Who will... satisfy you?" asked Batman.

The entity did not move, but it managed to indicate Batman anyway.

"Very well," said Batman, before anyone could even attempt to talk him out of it. After all, his life for the lives of everyone in this universe was a very good deal. "Take me."

For the first time, the King of All Ghosts moved, all that darkness, all that light, rushing towards Batman.

There was a burst of blinding light.

When everyone opened their eyes again, a boy with black hair, blue eyes, and a jawline that bore more than a passing resemblance to Batman's was stepping out of the summoning circle.

"That's much better," he said, stretching. "No offense, dude, but you kind of suck at Ghost Speak." He turned to Batman. "What I was asking for was a template so I could exist in your universe and do what you want without accidentally blowing it up because of incompatible physics, but whatever. Not sure how you guys got me eating you out of that."

"You wanted a human appearance so you could better conquer this world?" asked Batman.

"Uh, no? You've got a pretty strong clause against conquering the world in your paperwork there. You're probably thinking about Pariah Dark, but he's old news." The boy smiled widely. "Let's get started on your problem, okay?"

I've been summoned.

You haven't summoned me before. You have a nice space station here...

I can. You can't.

Inter-dimensional language differences are so annoying.

I hope you can do something. This will be difficult, otherwise.

Good. I don't want to be in this circle forever.

Close enough.

Figures (literally, 'certainly').

Okay. That sounds good. But I need something from you.

I need one of you to be my template (literally, life-pattern).

No! It's like being a parent.

Yes, one.

I don't want your children. What is wrong with you?

No! Gross!

No way. Not you. You're crazy (literally, your soul is cracked).

[livingsurreal]

It feels like keeping the Veil up just pushed a big problem onto Thedas’ future generations. We’ll keep slapping bandaids on it until it all falls apart. Someone else can deal with the fallout, but we’ll be dead by then, so who cares.

This is such a good point - no matter if you are pro or contra veil. The Veil is now tied to the existence of ONE ancient elf. An elf who was not even powerful enough to kill a single evanuris. The Veil was massively weakening, even with two very powerful (one of them the MOST powerful evanuris) fueling it.

Only a redeemed Solas is willing to keep the Veil up. All other versions of Solas still want to bring it down and you cannot for the live of me tell me he would not work very hard, even from fade prison, to get free and get it down. And even with redeemed Solas - what if anything happens to him? Boom - veil gone.

And if you think the veil coming down is catastrophic, with Solas and "a host of spirits helping to minimize the damage" - think how bad it could be with it just disappearing AND nothing to fuel the Blight Prison.

Like OP said - after Veilguard nothing has changed. (for the better)

Lets face it, even with Mae/Dorian at the very top - you cannot change a society that absolutely relies on slavery over night. If anything the elves are worse of b/c the Evanuris are elvhen and people WILL be angry for the fall and blightening of Minrathous. Can you image the amount of people who died when Elgar'nan took the city? There will be a lot of very dead elves after that. One Archon against a massive amount of rich and powerful people who do not want to give up their wealth? Dorian/Mae will not survive that long. Radonis did not survive the Venatori and he was on par with Tevinters status quo.

And even IF Dorian/Mae survive and do change some things, you can bet on Tevinter going back right to where it was, once they die of old age.

The Blight has changed, but I somehow doubt it changed for the better. Less viral does not mean less deadly, less controlling.

The south is completely broken, and nothing we did in previous games had ANY impact of the survivability. I cannot for the life of me understand why they did not use previous choices here. All we got from the south were letters from the Inquisitor. No animations or voice overs (save the few cutscenes we have with inky, but there is no big talk about the state of the south there, beyond "yeah blight, bad, we fight"). They could have incorporated a ton of choices from before and given us different outcomes via the letters. And with just the right amount of choices Southern Thedas might have had a fighting chance. But now? The only thing still standing is Skyhold? Like what the actual hell.

And again, as if any surviving elven would not be hunted down for the sin of their birth. ELVEN gods were the cause of all this death and destruction.

They said they wanted to give the elven/dalish a win. But, where is the win? There is no win! Anytime anything happens to the elves (or rather the people in Arlathan) Rook swoops in, being their white savior. Some VeilJumpers (who are for a big part not even elven) get lost in the forest? Rook comes to find the missing kids who played with stuff kids should not play with. (eg some ancient artifacts they most of the time do not understand). Elrgar'nan captures 10 dalish, Rook comes to save the day. (What was up with that quest anyhow? Like I expected there to be hundreds of dalish elves looked up. But no, its like a handful of people. That's enough for what ever Elgar'nan is planing? Okay then...) And they are building nothing new. They either lock away or destroy if possible what they find and deem to dangerous. What little remains they use in some way without even really understanding what they hold in their hands.

And apparently the elves suddenly don't believe in their own gods anymore. But instead of showing us a people who grapple with the lie that is their believe AND decide "NEVER AGAIN" and fight against their ancient oppressors - every one is just "eh, yeah ELGAR'NAN and GHILAN'NAIN - oh those two are bad!"

They just do all that coming to terms with the lie they believed off screen. Somewhere in the past. When? We don't know. That would have been a win. For there to be a win one needs conflict. But there was no fight. They just collectively decided to let go of everything the ever believed in.

So I guess something has changed - the dalish don't believe in the evanuris anymore. But that's about it.

Now after Veilguard, "Minrathous is the diplomatic center of Theadas"... So we are right back to pre-Andraste times? Where Tevinter rules the world? As if this "diplomacy" would not sooner or later become conquering. The Qunari in Par Vollen are defanged. They have lost their Antaam so Tevinter is no longer locked into an never ending war. The entirety of the South is leaderless, defenseless. Antiva still has no standing army. The Crows will not survive an invasion by Tevinters forces. Nevarrah is ruled by a dead king, puppeted by the Mortalitsaii and I bet they would welcome Tevinter rule b/c it means they have official power, no longer needing to rule from the shadows. Arlathan is a bunch of Dalish and human settlements, not standing army either. The Anderfels had the Wardens as their defense force, but the Wardens almost completely gone. Rivain remains, but do you think they could survive after Tevinter took everything else? The Dwarfs of the south are busted, only Kal Sharok remains standing, And they do not care about anyone but their own Thaig (not that I blame them).

Again, Archon Mae/Dorian would try to stem the tide, but lets be real, what are their chances.

Then there is the question of the future of the Titans. Valta was connected to a living titan. One that showed no signs of blight. From what Veilguard showed us ALL titans are supposedly tranquil but I cannot believe that Valtas titan was in fact tranquil. How could she have reconnected with it otherwise. How could she have dwarven magic otherwise. So after Hardings quests - are we supposed to just "let go" of anything Titan-related? I mean we have SEEN a baby titan in one of the first concept trailers and then they just do away with this story line? Forget the past - only the future is important seems to be the theme of the game. But one who forgets the past is doomed to repeat it.

Ya know, when the first trailers hit - I thought Solas and Varric would be a bit like the devil and angel on Rooks shoulder. Both trying to convince Rook of their way. I thought this would be our theme. Who is right? They both believe in the righteousness of their cause, keep the veil, bring down the veil, but who is right, which way will Rook go. What would be best short term / long term / what is the good kind of change / what is the bad kind of change.

Stagnation does not help anyone - everything is constantly in flux - but how to usher in a better world for future generations.

Despite all the damage a falling veil would do, you cannot ever convince me it would be worse than the devastation and death brought by Big El and Ghil. That it would be worse than the state of Thedas we have now, where everything that has happened since Andraste is in danger of being undone.

Again, never mind that the Veil is a construct and all constructs break at some point. It will not, cannot stay up indefinitely. This was the one change to bring the veil down with the least amount of damage. The next time the whole Blight gets free too. And only redeemed Solas is even working of "calming" it. The other versions of Solas - true to their nature of being a spirit and thus reflecting - are either trying to trick their way out or gnawing on his bars like a feral wolf.

Again - NOTHING has changed. Everything is just delayed.

Not a single thing Rook did (or rather, what we as puppeteer of Rook decided) changes anything. In the end even the Treviso/Minrathous decision was meaningless since the blight just burned away(?) after Solas went into the Fade Prison.

Ya'll remember Morrigan in DAI - how she tried to preserve the magic of the past? How sad she was about everything becoming more and more mundane and how more and more magic and beauty gets lost with every decade? This is where we are now. Even more magic and beauty has been lost.

I am calling it now - the magic eating storm that comes from the North, the Executors and their plans - in the end we are left with a Thedas without any magic.

That is the end goal of DA - a world without ANY magic.

(I am glad that at least the companions made me fall in love with them. Otherwise this would have been the first "play it once and be done with it DA")

Castles in the Fade, or What Was the Point of the Veil Anyway

Something that will now haunt me until the end of time is why was the concept of the Veil ever introduced into this series.

We’ve been hearing about it since the very first game. There’s a codex entry about tears in the Veil in Origins. Tamlen mentions a thin spot in the Veil if you play a Dalish elf. Sandal has a prophecy in Dragon Age 2: “One day the magic will come back—all of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part and the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see.” Admittedly, this is just one line said by a character who often says odd things, but it hinted to the fact they were planning to do something with the Veil from the very beginning. The state of the Veil is repeatedly brought up. It all had to mean something! Or so I thought. 

When I saw “The Dread Wolf Rises” quest in Veilguard, I said, “Oh, here we go!” The Veil is coming down, magic is coming back, and it’s going to set up such an interesting story for the next game. 

Alas, no. 

I hadn’t really enjoyed my time playing Veilguard up until this point. It felt like the game was ducking and dodging every bit of world building and lore that could possibly bring nuance or complexity to the story. Every returning character or faction was a cardboard cutout of themself. They shoved Solas is a time-out box and gave him nothing to do. They refused to let him have any impact or influence on the story when he had been set up to be our main antagonist back in Trespasser. This game used to be called Dreadwolf! And while we learn about his past… we never talk to him about it. In the present, he’s in stasis.

Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are our villains. And they are your typical evil for evil’s sake villains. They are mad, bad, and only as dangerous as the narrative will allow as to not give Rook and co too much trouble. They are surprisingly patient while Rook fixes all their companions’ problems… until Elgar’nan moves the moon to cause an eclipse. A vital component in making his own lyrium dagger. For some reason. This guy can move a satellite!? And he just let Rook walk away in previous encounters… twice. Ok. Sure.

The Evil Duo need their own dagger ostensibly to tear down the Veil, because they want to unleash the full force of the Blight onto the world. Because they are evil. And they were thwarted last time they tried to Blight the entire world. Why do they think Blighting the world is a good idea? What’s the point of ruling a world if everyone is dead? I guess they haven’t thought that through, because of the madness and the evilness.

Ok, I thought. Perhaps the gods will be the one to tear down the Veil. Or maybe we’ll have a choice to let Solas do it his way before they can, which will be less chaotic and less full of Blight. Because the Veil has to be coming down one way or another? Why introduce the concept of the Veil, especially a Veil that has been thinning and failing since the series began, if it’s just going to… stay.

There is a principle in storytelling called Chekov’s gun. If something is mentioned in a story, it must have a purpose. If you keeping mentioning that gun hanging on the wall over the fireplace, it’s because at some point in the story, someone is going to take it down and use it. The Veil felt like Chekov’s gun to me. Chekov’s Veil, if you will. It’s been here from the beginning of our tale, the spectre hanging over our protagonists’ heads for multiple games.

The Veil has been a character unto itself. It was the central focus of the third game, and its dissolution was set up to be the core conflict of the fourth game. We learn everything we thought we knew about the Veil was a lie. It was not created by the Maker to separate the Fade from this world because of jealous spirits, it was created by a guy named Solas to trap the elven gods and the Blight from destroying the world. Also, the elven gods were never gods, and they are also evil.

This reveal will surely throw the Andrastian religion into chaos! This puts the very existence of the Maker into question! The Evanuris are a lie; it’s only fair Catholicism—oh, I mean—the Chantry is a lie too. We briefly touch on that in Veilguard… then it is quietly discarded. Religious crisis averted.

But I digress.

When the title of the fourth game was changed from Dreadwolf to Veilguard, I started to see the writing on the wall. Still, I held out hope the Veil would have some greater purpose in the story. That its introduction as a concept was for a reason. That something in this world would change.

Instead, from the get-go, the question of the Veil is no question at all. We only get Solas and Varric making oblique or catastrophizing statements about it. Solas says little beyond he has a plan. If I ever wanted to hear a villain monologue about their plan, it was now! Varric, on the other hand, decries Solas’s plan. He warns that should the Veil fall, it will destroy the world and drown it in demons. And that’s that.

We never really learn why Solas wants to tear the Veil down, or why he thinks it will help anyone. “The Veil is a wound inflicted upon this world. It must be healed,” he says. And that’s basically all he says about it in Veilguard. In Inquisition and Trespasser, we learn it took the immortality from the elves. It cut most of magic off from the world. Spirits are trapped and are being corrupted into demons, and most of what we know about spirits and demons is wrong. There are ancient elves possibly asleep? That part is left vague, but ancient elves are still about. We meet some in Mythal’s temple. There seems to have been some merit in bringing it down, because elves were flocking to Solas’s cause at the end of Trespasser. He had agents working for him already. What do they know that we don’t know?

Apparently nothing, because by the time Veilguard rolls around, there are no mention of agents. He is working alone. His only motivation now seems to be he’s too deep in his sunk-cost fallacy. The Veil is unnatural, so it must be removed—consequences be damned. We are never given any reason to think Solas has a leg to stand on in his pursuit of tearing down the Veil. We never hear any kind of counter argument from anyone, not even Solas, as to why the Veil should come down. We are only told it will destroy the world. It will drown the world in demons. This is all Solas’s fault.

There is no nuance. No complexity. No moral quandary to mull over. The game gives us vague warnings with no explanation as to what exactly is so world-annihilating about the Veil coming down. We must take Varric’s word at face value. We’re the heroes; Solas is the villain. Stop him.

It makes me wonder why Solas was ever a companion in Inquisition, let alone a romance option. Solas was presented to us as a complicated character in Inquisition. We had the potential throughout the game to make him see the value of this world, to help him realize he was wrong about it. “We aren’t even people to you,” the Inquisitor says in Trespasser. Solas replies, “Not at first. You showed me that I was wrong...again.” He began the third game viewing the world as tranquil, seeing the people in it as nothing more than figments in a nightmare, just as we saw our companions in the In Hushed Whispers quest. He ends the game having made friends, having recognized he was mistaken. He might have even fallen in love. (Or he may still seen no merit in this world if the Inquisitor antagonized him the entirety of their time together.) But something makes him continue with his plan to tear down the Veil, despite recognizing this world is real. He must know something we don’t. Something we’ll learn about in the next game.

We’ve been hearing about the Veil for three games now. We’ve set up our complex antivillain for the next installment, and he’s going to tear the Veil down. We swear to stop him or save him. But it has to be more complex than that. It can’t be so straightforward. Uncomplicated. Simple. Boring. Right? Right?

Nope. He really is just the villain, mustache-twirling and all. He apparently had no greater motivation, no as of yet unrevealed knowledge that would put this whole Veil thing into a new context. It was really as simple as the Veil falling will destroy the world, so Solas must be stopped. There is no new information that is revealed which makes us question what we are doing. Solas is never given any nuance or complexity to his actions. Nuance and complexity have actively been taken away. Both him and the Veil are looking like they are the worst things to be in a story: pointless. Why introduce the Veil if it’s just going to remain unchanged? Why introduce a character like Solas, bother humanizing him (for lack of a better term), giving us his backstory, setting him up as a cunning antagonist, only to make him look stupid, then put him on a shelf until the last ten minutes of your game?

Solas was the trickster archetype of this tale. He was our version of Loki from Norse mythology. What is the role of the trickster archetype? To challenge the status quo. To bring about events of extreme change, like say, the tearing down of a Veil that holds back all of magic. Loki is a huge contributing factor in Ragnarök. Through his manipulation, he causes the death of the beloved god, Baldr. This ushers in a long winter, which signifies the beginning of the end. Loki is imprisoned for this crime. When the final battle between gods and giants begins, the sun and moon are swallowed, plunging the earth into darkness. The earth shakes and Loki is freed to fight on the side of the giants. The world burns in raw chaos, falls beneath the sea, and is reborn. The world is remade, and a new realm of the gods and a new, better earth is formed.

It really felt like this was the setup they were going for. Solas causes the death of Mythal, and this is his catalyst for creating the Veil, which ushers in a world without magic. This could be seen as equivalent to the long winter. Solas falls asleep, trapped in dreams. He wakes and sets in motion bringing about the apocalypse. It’s not a perfect one to one, but it’s there if you squint. We have a war against the gods in Veilguard. I was expecting a few remaining Titans to wake and join the fight. But we don’t get any of that. There is a final battle, but it does not end in the end of the world. Or a better world. It just ends, and everything is the same.

It seems our trickster god caused his apocalypse thousands of years before our story started, when he created the Veil. His role in this tale was over before ours began, and he really is just some relic from a long-past age. He has no role, no purpose in this story. He is here to be thwarted. He is no Loki at all.

If you can’t tell, I wanted the Veil to come down. Did I think the Veil coming down would be painless? Have no negative consequences? No. Of course not. But keeping it up has negative consequences too. And it made for an interesting story. Or at least it could have. But we never explore that. The game presents no counter argument to having the Veil stay up, which, again, begs the question: what was the point of introducing the concept of the Veil at all?

Did I think the Veil coming down was actually the best solution to help Thedas become a better place? I don’t know, and I never will, because the game never argues for it one way or another. It just tells you to want it in place and to stop asking questions. In real life, a catastrophic event is not the best way to solve any of the world’s problems. But this is the realm of fiction. We have gods and monsters, magic and myth. We have introduced the status quo of Thedas, recognized it needs to change, then our trickster god appears ready to fulfill his role in the narrative. 

Instead, it all comes to nothing.

I got to the end of Veilguard… and everything was more or less the same as it was at the start of Origins. Veilguard actually tries its hardest to pretend any previously mentioned problems don’t exist, so of course the Veil coming down has no merit. There are no problems to solve in this world, apparently. Solas is just stuck in the past and can’t get with the times. Silly Solas.

The Veil isn’t even a permanent solution. It wasn’t to begin with. It was some duct tape wrapped around a broken pipe, and we’ve just slapped an extra piece of tape on it. It’s still leaking. It is still unnatural, and will fall eventually one way or another. Large amounts of bloodshed weaken it, so I guess Thedas better achieve world peace real quick to avoid any battles. There were seven super-powered mages holding it together… now there is just one. Ironically, the Veil was going to fall after two more Blights anyway. The Wardens were doing Solas’s work for him! It would also have released the full force of the Blight at that time… which Solas was trying to avoid, I presume.

It feels like keeping the Veil up just pushed a big problem onto Thedas’ future generations. We’ll keep slapping bandaids on it until it all falls apart. Someone else can deal with the fallout, but we’ll be dead by then, so who cares.

Primarily, I wanted the Veil to come down from a storytelling perspective. The Veil was an interesting concept and I wanted the story to do something interesting with it. Conflict is what makes stories stories and the Veil coming down could create so much compelling and complex conflict. And the Fade is weird, and I like weird. Stories are also about change, and I wanted to see Thedas change. Yet, Veilguard is over, and barely anything has changed. Instead of magic coming back being a conflict for the next game, they went with Fantasy Illuminati. Oh.

The Veil turned out to be a nothing-burger, and no problems in this world are even close to being solved. Slavery is still rampant in Tevinter. The elven people are still oppressed everywhere. Mages have no more rights in the South than they did in Origins. Spirits are still trapped and being corrupted. The Calling still exists, though might be different somehow now? They don’t really get into that. The Chantry’s validity is still not allowed to be questioned. The Blight still exists in some form, but again it’s vague. Oh, and we learn the dwarves have been gravely wronged, and the Titans are still tranquil. At least if you redeem Solas and a romanced Lavellan joins him, they can work together on healing the Blight and helping the Titans. Oh, good. One problem is being acknowledged and some action will be taken. Offscreen. Hurray? Solas doesn’t have a really great track record of fixing problems, so Lavellan is definitely going to need to be there to make sure he doesn’t fuck it up.

For some reason, this game seemed terrified of letting us think about anything for more than two seconds. It shied away from complexity or nuance at every turn. The game is called The Veilguard—ironically, that word is never uttered in the game—but we are given no real motive for guarding the Veil. We’re unquestionably the hero. The villains are uncomplicatedly evil. Save the world… never wonder what you are doing or why.

I wanted the game to make me question if the Veil staying up or coming down was the right choice. I needed to be given a real counter argument. Convince me the alternative would actually be better or worse, because as I mentioned… things suck quite a bit in Thedas already for a lot of people right now. Let the Veil’s fate be a difficult choice to make. If the conflict cannot be what to do about the Veil, it should be am I doing the right thing about the Veil. If the heart of your game is so thin on motive, everything else falls apart around it.

I hoped they were setting up a complex, Thedas-sized existential conflict for this game in Trespasser, but no. I wanted something to happen, but nothing did. 

I want to feel challenged and changed by a story, not left feeling empty. I’m tired of superficial entertainment. I want to sink my teeth into a narrative that doesn’t paint the world in broad strokes of black and white, good and evil, heroes and villains.

Ultimately, I think my issue is why even introduce a concept like The Veil if you’re not going to do anything interesting with it. Or anything at all. What I thought was Chekov’s Veil turned out to just be a MacGuffin. And that’s disappointing.

[hwnglx]

pick a pile - what makes you attractive?

welcome back lovely reader! let's take a peak into what makes you so attractive. breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. remember to take what resonates, and leave what doesn't. 𓆩♡𓆪

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꒰ঌ pile 1 ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you're attractive, in the way you're interested in creating these meaningful and emotional connections to people.

you aren't the type of person who feels the need to place yourself above anyone, in order to feel good about yourself. your desire for balance and harmony in your relationships makes you highly attractive.

the way you're able to put yourself in other people's shoes, and approach them with empathy, is wonderful. you give them this precious feeling of being understood.

you're a person who has very comforting energy, and a soothing effect on others. someone who brings the calm after the chaos, and hope into situations that seem lost.

spirit keeps showing me this image of a bandaid.

your attractiveness lies in your gentleness. in your ability to mend and heal.

the fact that you've been through so much, but this inner spark of hope inside you still remained bright and dazzling in the end, makes you very special.

it's likely that a lot of you aren't fully aware of this, but your existence is dazzling, and extraordinary in many people's eyes.

you stand out. you're unique.

there's something about your presence that shines differently, compared to the people around you. it's almost like a butterfly that can't see the beauty of its own wings.

i believe a good amount of you, have gone through your own losses and heartbreaks in the past.

it's likely you went through different cycles, and various impactful stages in your life where you were forced to adapt and adjust. unexpected situations which caught you off guard and resulted in you needing to pick up the pieces by yourself.

but the way you've been able to bounce back, and still find this inner courage to keep going, despite the hurt, is impressive.

i believe you've come to a point where you've been able to move away from that state of sorrow, and turned it into something that fuels your power.

your ability to bravely deal with the things that life unexpectedly throws you head on, makes you very attractive.

you still have a more sensitive heart, and your core will always be a little soft and sweet deep down; but your character has gained a lot of strength throughout the years.

this is something you radiate to the outside now. your inner power makes you incredibly attractive.

you look at the things you've been through till now, as experiences which have shaped you immensely, and turned you into the person you are today.

a lot of you are also likely to be outspoken, and pretty straightforward. you like getting to the true core of topics, and aren't afraid to voice things others might shy away from.

your attractiveness lies in your ability to balance these two coinciding sides in you; one that is full of empathy, warmth and a kind heart, and one that is self-sufficient, ambitious and courageous.

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꒰ঌ pile 2 ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you're attractive, in the way you relentlessly work towards fulfilling your own dreams and goals.

you're willing to put in consistent effort, in order to build yourself the dream life you desire so badly.

i just don't see you liking to rely on anyone else to do the work for you. you're very self-sufficient, and recognize that in order to get to a place of satisfaction and contentment within yourself, you have to be the one to make the effort. there's nothing like enjoying the fruits of your own labor.

a lot of you are very sure of what you want for yourself. some of you might actively manifest, by imagining and picturing how you want your life to be.

creating moodboards on pinterest or something. creating folders of style inspiration, or interior design inspirations. this is how i want to be dressed, this is the place i want to live in.

you're not gonna be someone who throws the towel and gives in, just because someone else might label your dreams as impossible, or unrealistic.

it's almost like you'll tell them “well, i'll show you then”

you have high aspirations, standards and expectations towards yourself, as well as others, which makes you even more attractive.

you just do not settle for anything less than what you want.

people can't get to you too easily. you're guarded and careful about who you let in closely.

many people are likely to look at you as a person they can't quite decipher or fully figure out at first; someone whose facade they'd like to look beyond.

the fact that you aren't an open book who's constantly accessible and available twenty four seven, makes you highly attractive to others. you cautiously keep them at an arm's length, and people might have to work for your attention.

there might even be some people envious of you.

envious of the fact that you're so self-reliant, independent, and in no need of anyone's help or guidance in life.

and although you give off a more detached and colder vibe to some people on the outside, people who actually know the true you, are aware of how sweet and empathetic you can in fact be. you just have a genuine heart deep down.

you're likely to be someone with a lot of depth and layers, and the closer people get to knowing you in your entirety, the more they get to see of your more complex, introspective and sensitive sides.

you might be much more emotional, romantic and dreamy than what meets the eye at first; and this is likely to draw a lot of people to you.

like “wow, i didn't know you had this side to you”

there's this type of reversal charm, where you might pleasantly surprise some people with how soft you can actually be at times, compared to the first impression they had of you.

some of you might literally have an rbf, but a beautiful smile that brightens and lights up your face in a whole new way.

you also give me very very creative energy. i feel like you love to express yourself beautifully, in many artistic ways. and you see art as a way to live out your most authentic self.

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꒰ঌ pile 3 ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you're attractive, in the way you lead with your heart.

it's likely that you're a person who nurtures a strong connection to their vast and rich emotional world. you're someone who genuinely cares.

like.. i don't think you even know how to just not care about things, and go through life in a nonchalant “meh” way. most of the time, you're very chalant. (ㅜ same!)

this makes you much more attractive than you might realize.

you can easily get emotionally invested in plenty of your endeavors; whether that's your relationships, the choices you have to make, the different situations life throws in your way.

you feel everything in a deep and profound manner, and this makes you unique.

reason why i believe you might not be fully aware of this, is because you seem to have the tendency to see yourself as more lacking than you actually are.

you're likely to be a person who's very humble at their core. an eternal student of life.

someone who tries their best to grow continuously and better themselves through every situation they get confronted with; especially the disappointments, regrets, losses.

you're eager to pull the lesson out of every experience in life, and sincerely want to learn from your mistakes.

despite criticism hurting you sometimes, you're still trying your best to improve yourself through it all.

this hard-working, grounded, down to earth and modest energy makes you incredibly attractive.

i think you're slowly but surely trying to let go of certain limitations you habitually set yourself till now. you might've felt trapped in your mind and stuck for a good while, but you're progressively coming out of that place.

despite the exhausting struggles you've been through till now, you're still standing strong!

your endurance, resilience and inner strength makes you immensely attractive.

yes you're wounded, yes you don't see yourself as perfect, but you're still ready to fight. you are a true warrior.

even with your naturally modest character, i don't see you as a person who allows people to step all over them anymore. you're starting to learn to be more strict and clear with your boundaries.

people might see you as someone who's becoming more guarded and closing yourself off, but to you, it's what's necessary to protect yourself.

you're attractive in the way you're becoming more and more aware of your true worth and your value.

you shouldn't let people look at your inner softness as weakness anymore.

on the contrary, it makes you incredibly strong and attractive, if you confidently embrace that side of you. i can see you stepping into your true power, once you learn to acknowledge your qualities more.

it's very likely for the things you yourself see as your downfalls, to be your actual strengths. you might just see yourself in a negative light way too quickly.

for example, your emotionality and sensitivity doesn't have to be a flaw. it can be your asset. it makes you special.

not everyone is capable of emotional connection the way you are. not everyone has the ability to be so genuinely loving, caring and sincerely empathetic the way you are.

don't constantly see yourself for what you aren't, for what you lack, for what you can't do. but see yourself for what you are and what you have, what you can indeed do!

note; i was definitely the most passionate about this pile because i have to admit, i relate so much 🥹 sending you all my support and hugs sweet reader

[hyperions-light]

Rook’s notes on the Lighthouse/Caretaker for the codex ask!

Thank you for asking! [Codex prompts here] These are very fun so far!

- This place is alive? Moves to accommodate guests, changes layout. Many places accessible using acrobatics. Some inaccessible currently (tried, dangerous).

- Seems to have assigned me Fish Room. Think they are watching me (good?). Able to rearrange furniture but not request more. Annoying.

- Solas lived here? Depressing. No wonder he’s so miserable. Found weird, sad little room with his stuff in it. Going to ask him if he’s bored in the Fade Jail next time. Maybe he will be less annoying if he has something to do? Can try to mentally recreate books, maybe.

- There’s a. Ghost? Demon? Spirit? Asked Bellara, she says spirit. Very turquoise, many eyes, bad clothes (do spirits wear those? Ask Solas). Seems helpful? Provides gondola rides and is more polite than gondoliers in Treviso. And it’s free!

- Spirit is in Lighthouse now. Very cryptic, even more than Solas. Wonder if that was a requirement in Arlathan (ask Solas). Still not dangerous. Seems to help with accessing new parts of Lighthouse. Asked why I couldn’t just go everywhere now, got vague nonsense. Ugh.

- Should bring random Crows + civilians here to see if it does anything. Viago? Might be funny!

- Found out Library is covered in depressing murals of things Solas regrets. Probably impolite to bring up. Does he like being miserable? I don’t cover my walls with all the missions I fucked up. Strange, sad, bald man. Going to ask him if he wants to play cards next time. Maybe letting him win would cheer him up.

- Manfred is my new best friend. We’re exploring the Lighthouse together.

- Who’s Felassan?

- Solas says to stop contacting him about unimportant things (no).

- Spent indeterminate amount of time trying to convince Lighthouse to replicate animal habitats. Did not work and Davrin looked concerned.

- Was having Davrin show me how to carve animals (looks fun) but got distracted by Assan and impaled my hand. Davrin was upset about this. Said it was fine, but he insisted we visit Emmrich. Discovered Lighthouse speeds magical healing. Worth it.

- If I start bringing cats here will it make a room for them?

- Tried bringing cats. One almost floated away. Do NOT bring Neve’s favorite.

- Bellara and I were using the magical floating ornaments above her room for target practice, and one of them suddenly exploded! Practical applications?

- How come no one else ever visits Varric? Tried to ask Harding if she’d been to see him, but she didn’t hear me? Strange. Visit more-- maybe others will come with? He must be lonely in there.

- Remember to ask Solas if he needs to eat. Think I could manifest Lucanis’ paella if I tried hard enough.

- Taash and I are going to try and build some traps. Borrowed explosives from Antoine. Think Lighthouse is sentient enough to identify intruders if I talk to it.

- Tried to ask the fish about Solas. Maybe they saw him while he was here?

- One of the wisps left Neve’s room suddenly, so we followed it around-- they are DEFINITELY the ones moving people’s stuff. Also maybe causing books to appear? Neve says we need more evidence.

- Emmrich said Harding made the plants grow because she loved them (of course she did). Going to ask her to make me taller via caring about me.

- Sat in the pantry for a while trying to talk the Lighthouse into manifesting a new bed for Lucanis, now that Spite isn’t a problem. Convinced nobody can sleep on that thing. No luck. Try carrying couch from library?

- MANY, LOUD objections to Taash and me building traps. Still think it could work, but promised Davrin I’d return explosives. No one here lets me have any fun (except Taash, Bellara, and Spite).

- Spent a while trying to see if the Lighthouse would let Harding move any of the giant floating chunks of rock. Also attempted exploding arrows + asking politely. No luck.

- Emmrich brought Johanna’s skull here! Amazing! Asked Emmrich to carry my skull around with him after I die so I can see new stuff. Did not understand the reasons he said he couldn’t. Will keep bothering him.

- Friends keep leaving things in my/the fish’s room. Need more drawers.

- Lace says Taash and Bellara can put up memorials to Cyrian and Shathann in her garden, if they want. Think it’s a good idea. Emmrich agrees.

- Made it to the top of the Lighthouse! Made Assan promise not to tell the others how to get up there. Reminds me of the rooftops in Treviso.

- Makes sense now, why Varric never got his own room. Going to put his stuff in Lace’s garden. I think she would have liked that.

[demonic-x-sorcerers]

"Morning!" Kisho greets the two once they arrive in the kitchen. "I got your breakfast ready! Also Megumi, I brewing your coffee so it's about done." He tells Megumi, jerking his shoulder to where the coffee machine is, filling the mug with expresso.

----- Oda Castle ----

"Of course, miss." The maid smiles and leaves her to enjoy her breakfast. Everyone is in the meeting room except for Hayato who is still sleeping in. He would be updated by Moudo and Iku.

"So what's this about..." Iku asked, drinking his juice carton.

"Apparently, a guest from America came here in search of Yuji Itadori and would like to deliver a cursed tool over to the sorcerers," Shukaku informs everyone.

"Really?" Moudo asked.

"Indeed. She is sighted when she slay a cursed spirit in our domain. She came from East Coast and told us of the cursed tool." Torahito said while Syuuta sipped his fruit milk.

"And what's the curse tool?" Iku asked.

"A kabutowari, that's the look of the weapon." Oda explains, "From what Agana has told us, it's a cursed tool that cuts the air while dispersing toxic gas where it possesses people whoever breathes in it. It also seems to have the ability to make its own blood. Not only that, if the user offers their blood, it is hardened thanks to the blade. She said it's made of cursed blood."

"Woah..." Moudo said to which Syuuta nods in agreement as he is surprised by the news. Iku scowls, "And you think it's a good idea to give something like that to the sorcerers?"

Torahito raises a brow, "Is that a problem?"

"Well yeah! Look, I know it's the water under the bridge what we did to the sorcerers from Tokyo, that was shitty and it's thanks to them we save our girls from that Bradley asshole!" Iku said. "But are we seriously going to give that to the sorcerers? What if they use it against us?"

"I don't think that would happen," Torahito asked. "The head of the Gojo-"

"Yeah, I know that one. What about the two other clans, Kamo and Zenin?" Iku asked. Shukaku hums, "You got a point there but it seems like Agana trusts Yuji Itadori and if it's possible, Itadori and his friends might bring their teacher so we can discuss a truce to benefit each other. That Gojo guy seems reasonable."

"Megumi come on, you awake in there!?" Yuji laughed happy knocking on his door but saw it open showing Megumi. He was dressed but yawns to sigh.

"I heard you for the last time, Itadori. I told you to wait didn't I?" he walks out from the Dorm room but the two were now heading off to meet up with Kisho.

~~~~~~Oda Castle~~~~

She sees the breakfast served to her. A bowl of steamed rice, miso soup, grilled mackerel. Some Tamago and a dish of pickled vegetables. She even noticed the toasted bred with two strips of bacon. With a green tea.

It looked delicious.

"Of course! I will be back soon! If you wish to show, there's a bath nearby. I suggest you wait a longer once the men finished showering. I will let you know."

"That would be nice if you could.....thank you very much and thank you for the breakfast." she said softly.

[joshbii]

Happy Secret Saint Waidwen @adozentothedawn! I will absolutely never turn down a chance to write Waidwen / Eothas so I'm so glad I got you xD I hope you enjoy it! And thank you to @secret-st-waidwen-exchange for organising all this :)

Prose beneath the cut >:3

Kindling for the Faithful

Waidwen had not been raised for war. Not for the sound and scent and sight of countless men, steel in their hands and fire in their hearts; the march of the faithful. Emerald tabards, speckled with snow and mud, dotted the fields of Cold Morn, blooming like flowers through the hoarfrost.

A familiar sight, like back on the farm. Winter had always brought its own certainty - that of grim winds and Rymrgand’s cold. Back then, he’d known his place beneath its weight, enduring as best a common man could. But now, standing here, that same cold seemed brittle, fragile - something he could banish from the land, if only he willed it so. He drew a deep breath of the winter air, frost sharp in his lungs, the ash of a dozen distant hearthfires adding their own faint tang to the sensation. Beneath it all, there was something else: a warmth that was not his alone, a quiet hum deep in his chest.

“Do you see them, Waidwen?” came the voice of Eothas, steady and low, like lantern-light flickering through the ever-dark. “Look upon their faces, upon their souls.”

“I see folk scared, half-starved, wondering if tomorrow’ll even come. I see folk who’ve been ground down and told it’s their lot. They’re our people, aren’t they? The folk who need change most.”

Waidwen stood in silence, watching over them. They looked to him, full of suspicion and fear. They looked to him, but not as a saviour, not yet. They looked to him, and cowered before this figure of light and blood, be he king or god or both.

“Do you feel them, Waidwen?” Eothas’ presence hummed in his heart again, softer now, like the breeze that stirs the stillness of freshly settled snow. “Do you feel the flicker of hope they hold? It is faint, but alive - it burns as embers now. Go to them. Walk among them. You need not change them with grand words or bold promises - tell them what you have seen, what you have learned. Let them hear the truth you speak; show them the warmth that burns within and share with them your fire, that they may kindle their own in turn.”

“They’re frightened, Eothas,” the saint lowered his gaze to the snow, where countless footsteps marked the surface, “they’ve lost so much and suffered so deeply that I fear mere words will change little. But you are right. I owe it to them to try, to show them there is a flame in every soul, if only you give it time to catch. I will speak to them.”

Breathing deep once more, Waidwen exhaled as he stepped forth, his boot crunching softly against the snow. The folk of Cold Morn - his folk, in spirit if not in allegiance - let their gazes linger warily on him. Some muttered prayers beneath their breaths, to Berath or Magran or the others, but none to Eothas, for even those who had once doubted could not deny the god they saw before them.

As he stopped in the centre of the town square, he felt the weight of their eyes, each stare a question he wasn’t sure he had an answer to. His hands, calloused from years of labour, felt strange as they rose to speak. They had always been the hands of a farmer, not a king nor a god. But still they bled with his light, and they were his to use, for a purpose he might never fully comprehend.

“I ain’t here to make you promises,” Waidwen’s voice cut across the wind, rough with the weight of his words, “and I’m not gonna say everything’ll be right, just cause we carry a god with us. I’ve seen some of the worst this world can bring against us - folk broken by hunger and time and war. But I’ve also seen what they each yet have - what you each yet have, should you only turn it to use; I’ve seen the flickers of fire in your eyes and your hearts, and so not all is lost. I’m not askin’ you to follow me blindly. I’m just asking for you to put some faith in those trying to do right by you. I may not have all the answers, but I’ve got faith that if we stand together, we can burn away the darkness. There ain’t no war or winter can take that from us. I know you don’t got much at present, and I ain’t asking for no miracle. But faith’s a bit like sowing seeds. It doesn’t seem like much at first, but with the right care and a gentle hand, it’ll grow into something mighty fine.”

Some of the townsfolk exchanged glances, uncertain and wary, echoed in the whispers that seemed silent beneath the wind. A few of them nodded along, slowly, to his words. Others held the haunted, hollow look of those who had been burned one too many times by the wildfire of false hope. Others still looked on at him with wide eyes and desperate hearts, clinging to that flickering light of belief that stirred somewhere within them.

A woman, stood with her children by the edge of the square, tightened her shawl around her shoulders, her eyes flitting between Waidwen’s light and the ground beneath her feet. When he spoke to the fire in their hearts, her eyes flickered upwards for but a moment, and Waidwen saw then not defiance nor exhaustion, but the faintest ember awaiting its kindling, near-silent beneath the murmurs of the crowd.

Not far from her, a young boy tugged on his father’s sleeve, while the grown man averted his eyes from Waidwen, as if he feared he might see truth in the strange man’s glow. “Papa,” the boy said, pulling again on his father’s sleeve, “Papa, I should give it to him.”

The father snapped his head down, the cold made manifest in his tone, “Hush, Tosti.” He glanced momentarily towards the saint, never looking at him directly, “We will talk about this at home.”

But the boy had already stepped away, small boots crunching through the snow. The murmuring crowd drew silent as they watched the child. His patched coat, far too large for his frail frame, hung loose at his shoulders as he trod forth, his mittened hands clutching something close to his heart. His father made to reach for him, but hesitated and faltered as Waidwen’s light reached the boy.

Waidwen turned to the boy. In the child’s wide eyes he saw the trepidation that filled him, even as he gathered the courage to keep moving as the weight of the moment pressed against him. In those eyes he saw himself, and the fires of his own faith burned just a little bit brighter.

“Saint Waidwen?” the boy called out, his words soft but certain.

Waidwen crouched slightly, meeting the boy’s gaze, dimming his light just a fraction to let the child see his face clearly. “That’s me.”

The child stopped just before the saint, close enough now that Waidwen could make out the rough edges of the charm he clutched tight - a small river stone, its surface smoothed by time, with faint carvings cut into it. A thin string was tied around it, long enough to be worn about the neck.

“This is for you,” Tosti held out the charm in trembling hands, “It’s for luck. My ma said it’ll keep me safe if I carry it, but… but you can have it if you’ll help us - if you’ll fight the bad people and make sure we don’t run out of food again.”

“Tosti, get back here, now!” The father’s voice rose, sharp with fear. The boy’s face froze, but his feet remained planted.

The saint glanced towards the father, memories of his own lingering at the edges of his mind. Slowly, he reached out to the charm, his calloused hands hovering just above the boys as he looked him in the eye. “Why that’s mighty kind of you, Tosti,” he spoke gently as took the charm in his hand. Running his thumb over the carvings, their intent became clear - the sign of the Dawnstars. Their light warmed even Waidwen as the words left his mouth, “A gift like this - made with care - it means a lot. Are you sure you want me to have it?”

The boy nodded quickly, resolutely, his eyes shining with nervous pride, “You’ll keep us safe, won’t you?”

Waidwen swallowed hard, the boy’s words settling heavy in his chest. He held the charm for a moment, running his fingers again over the carved symbols, before slipping it into a pouch. “I’ll do everything I can,” he said, quieter now, “and thank you for this. It means more than you know. Remember, Tosti: Eothas’ light ain’t no different from the sun that rises after the longest night; it might not warm you right away, but give it time, and hold yourself to the light, and it’ll drive the chill clean out.”

The child smiled shyly before scampering away to his parents. His father grabbed him by the shoulder, his mother muttering something quietly. Waidwen smiled.

“Did you see the faith in his eyes, Waidwen?” Eothas’ voice came to him once more, warm and quiet, as if speaking from the depths of his soul, “Even the smallest spark, when kindled, can drive away the cold and the dark.”

“Aye,” Waidwen murmured, “I saw it. A child, giving up what little he still has to try and help his folk…” The words caught in his throat as he reached for the charm once again, “What kind of a man takes a gift like that, Eothas? What kind of man can carry the weight of their hope and not be crushed by it?”

“You are not merely a man, but you know this; you are a vessel of their faith, as much as you are of mine. It is not the weight of it that will break you, but the doubt that seeps into the cracks. Let that boy’s faith rekindle your own, Waidwen, and follow where your faith leads.”

“Faith’s an odd thing, ain’t it? Sometimes it feels like a fire, keepin’ you warm in the cold… Other times it's biting and sharp and full of fury, making damn sure you how much you’ve yet to endure.”

Eothas offered no reply, nor did Waidwen make further comment. His fingers tightened around the charm; those rough-hewn carvings of the dawnstars seemed realer even than the light of Eothas that poured from his hands. Silence lingered as the voices of the townsfolk faded, the saint’s gaze turned north-west, towards their next destination.

Mercy Vale. The snow that they had marched through gave way to charred earth and ash, the air thick with smoke and the acrid scent of rain. The town sprawled out before him, its remnants still smouldering under the dull grey sky. Blackened beams jutted from the wreckage like the broken ribs of a harmless beast, hunted for sport and thrill. Pools of melted snow, darkened by the soot, congealed in hollows and seeped into the wounded earth. The few homes that had yet to burn maintained their stoic vigil - the world watched in silence with them.

Waidwen stood at the edge of it all. Mercy Vale lay before him like carrion, feeding a faith that hungered for more. He held tight to the charm in his hand, its carvings somehow foreign to him now. “You once told me that fire ain’t just there to destroy; it’s to burn away doubt, and leave behind something brighter, something stronger,” he whispered the words, scarcely escaping his lips, the sounds joining the hiss of dying embers in the only dirge these folk would get. “Well, Eothas, is this what faith has wrought? Was this the fire I was meant to share? When you look south, to the Dyrwood, is all you see more kindling for the faithful?”

The hum of Eothas’ presence stirred within him once more, but he did not speak. The saint closed his eyes, his grip tightening on the boy’s charm as he drew a slow, laboured breath. For a fleeting moment, he felt the weight of all he carried with him, the faith and the hope and the dreams. It pressed down on him - not as a god nor a saint, not a general nor a king, but as a man, standing alone amidst the ashes that he left in his wake.

[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.15k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 1

Chapter 2: The Haunting Past

Isla's POV

I was still learning how to navigate the quiet corners of Velaris. They felt both beautiful and unnerving, like living inside a painting that could come alive at any moment. The Night Court was steeped in an elegance that seemed almost otherworldly, yet its people were undeniably vibrant, alive with a spirit I found both comforting and overwhelming.

I didn't know how to place myself in this world of power and magic. I felt more like an intruder than a guest. A mortal—a temporary flicker of existence—among beings who had centuries carved into their souls.

Azriel, however, was a puzzle all his own.

He was distant, a ghost that hovered at the edges of every room, every conversation. And yet, when his shadows moved, it was like they betrayed the parts of him he tried so hard to keep hidden. Those shadows weren't silent. They whispered, they reached, and sometimes... they found me.

I caught glimpses of him in those quiet moments when his focus faltered, and something more human slipped through his carefully crafted mask. That morning, as I stood on the balcony overlooking Velaris's sprawling, shimmering streets, I thought about those moments. About him.

The door creaked softly behind me, and I turned, expecting to see Feyre or perhaps one of the others. But it was Azriel.

His presence felt heavier than the others. He didn't speak right away, and the silence stretched between us like a thin thread, taut and fragile.

"Good morning," I said cautiously, unsure of how to fill the space.

He gave a small nod, his wings rustling faintly as he stepped closer to the edge of the balcony. His gaze flicked over the city below, but his attention wasn't on the view. He seemed... preoccupied, his brows furrowed as if lost in a memory.

I wanted to ask what he was thinking, but I didn't dare. Instead, I waited, letting the silence settle again.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and rough. "Do you ever think about what you've left behind?"

The question caught me off guard. I turned to face him, unsure of what to say. "All the time," I admitted. "I don't think it ever leaves me. My life before this—before here—it feels like another world entirely. Like I'm not the same person I was."

Azriel's gaze shifted to me, his hazel eyes sharp and searching. "And does it make you want to go back?"

It was a complicated question, one I hadn't fully allowed myself to answer. "Sometimes," I said honestly. "But... even if I did, I'm not sure I'd fit there anymore. Not after this."

He nodded slowly as if he understood. His wings stretched slightly before settling again, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to say more.

"Do you?" I asked carefully, my voice barely above a whisper. "Think about what you've left behind?"

A shadow passed over his face, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. But then, quietly, he said, "It's not what I've left behind that haunts me. It's what I've lost."

There was a weight to his words that made my chest ache. I didn't know the details of Azriel's past, but I knew enough to understand that it was filled with pain, with scars that ran deeper than anything I could comprehend.

I wanted to reach out to him, to say something that might ease the burden he carried, but I wasn't sure if he'd let me. Instead, I stayed quiet, hoping my presence would be enough.

His shadows moved then, curling around his feet like restless tendrils of smoke. They shifted subtly, almost imperceptibly, and I felt that strange pull again—the way they seemed to acknowledge me, to reach for me.

"Your shadows," I murmured before I could stop myself. "They're always... moving. Always watching."

Azriel's gaze snapped to mine, sharp and wary. "They have a will of their own," he said simply, but there was something in his tone that made me think he didn't entirely believe his own words.

"They comfort me," I admitted, my cheeks flushing slightly as I spoke. "When I feel... out of place. Like I don't belong here."

For a moment, he looked genuinely surprised. His shadows stilled as if they were listening to me, and I wondered if he felt what I did—the warmth they carried, the strange sense of solace they offered.

"I didn't realise they could do that," he said, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

"Maybe it's not them," I said quietly, my gaze dropping to the floor. "Maybe it's you."

The words hung in the air between us, and I instantly regretted saying them. But when I glanced up, I saw something shift in his expression.

"It's not me," he said, but his voice lacked its usual certainty. "I've never... I'm not the kind of person who offers comfort, Isla."

I didn't know what to say to that. He seemed so sure, so convinced that he was nothing more than the sum of his shadows and his pain. But I wasn't convinced. There was more to him than that—there had to be.

Before I could respond, his gaze drifted away, his features hardening slightly. I followed his line of sight and saw Elain standing at the far end of the balcony, her delicate features framed by the soft light of the morning sun.

The tension in Azriel's posture was immediate, his shadows shifting restlessly around him. I felt like I was intruding on something deeply personal, something I couldn't possibly understand.

Elain's gaze flicked to me briefly before settling on Azriel, and for a moment, it felt like the world held its breath.

"Azriel," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of something I couldn't quite place.

He nodded to her, his expression unreadable, and then, without another word, he turned and walked away. His shadows lingered for a moment, hovering around me like a fleeting whisper before following him into the shadows.

I watched him go, my chest tight with an ache I didn't fully understand.

Elain didn't say anything to me, but she didn't need to. Her presence alone was enough to remind me of the gulf between us—the mortal girl with no place in this world and the woman who seemed to hold a piece of Azriel's heart, even if it was fractured and complicated.

As the day wore on, I couldn't stop thinking about the way Azriel had looked at me, the way his shadows had reached for me. There was something there, something unspoken, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it mattered.

But it wasn't just about me. It was about him—about the pain he carried, the battles he fought within himself. And as much as I wanted to reach out to him, to offer him some semblance of comfort, I wasn't sure if he'd let me.

All I knew was that his shadows had chosen me, and maybe, just maybe, that meant something. Something neither of us fully understood yet.

Put some suggestions for the story scenes in comment section If you'd like. I am open to any new ideas or recommendations.😊😜.

[tears-exe]

Another shift another Sui Episode

Text "Capitalism makes me want to die every single fucking day" white text cyan outline new times Roman like font.

Super saturated fucked up purple pink and black weird abandoned McDonald's back ground. Teal blood splatters. Pink box cutter on the left with cyan outline. Middle is an anime girl long wavy white twin tails, light pink and lavender pj's, slippers and bandages. She's clutching a pink stuffed rabbit and outlined in cyan. On the right is pink and white pills with cyan outline.

Tws eyestrain blood blades pills medical self harm implied suicide implied (realized tags is full of venting and hopefully blacklisting will pick up on this)

[replicantdeviancy]

It was intriguing, catching those faint glimpses into the mind of another, timid ventures of exploration deeper, beneath the veil. This wasn’t the young detective’s first time traversing the landscape of introspection with a mind not unlike his own, but he had to admit that Lecter was of a different class. He was poised, careful. Ever mindful with his words, just as Connor himself was. People often liked to talk, to inflate their own egos. The psychiatrist wanted to learn, seeking just as much as he was offering. It did come to mind that both of them were playing a game, trying to unmask the other as they conversed. Both allowed small glimpses into themselves, just enough to tease, to tantalize. It was just a little exciting.

The conversation once again turned to him as questions left Lecter’s lips, queries that felt as pointed as they did intentional. Was he, too, seeking a kindred spirit? Lecter seemed the type to be mindful of company kept, enemies held as closely as friends. But there was something genuine about that desire. Everybody wanted to be understood.

A thoughtful pause, almost pensive. The detective decided to be candid. “I don’t see them as sins.” This answer was surprisingly unfiltered, raw as it was honest. His voice remained that same neutral tone, dusky notes soft. “Morally, I’ve done questionable things. But I don’t feel any particular way about them.” He didn’t mind showing his hand, as his apathy wasn’t a shameful part of his character, nor one unknown. His partner knew that Connor had problems processing certain emotions, that empathy was selective & not always under his control. But he was very good at playing a part, showing the world his sweet, charming personality. Just a gentle boy, harmless.

Hank knew him as nobody else ever had; even, to a degree, his brothers. The only person to witness him completely unfiltered, see him to the most animalistic core of his being. There were those who might glimpse that truest of self & see something akin to a machine, but Hank saw something different. He saw something truly human. Connor appreciated that. He wondered if the psychiatrist could see the same, if he looked hard enough.

“There is risk & reward in everything. I don’t risk without the promise of reward,” he informed. It was true. Everything Connor did remained within the bounds of the law. It wasn’t entirely ethics that stayed him, but a lack of desire to do something illegal. His reward for giving his all to his profession was to see justice done, & to do that effectively, he needed to follow protocol. Connor was an expert negotiator & interrogator as much as he was an investigator. What people didn’t realize was just how tightly he rode the blurred lines of ethics. It was unlawful to intimidate a suspect, but there was no precedent against fucking with their head.

Connor was very good at that, both on & off the field. He was manipulative, unyielding & used knowledge as a tactical strategy to get what he wanted. Nobody knew. No one but his family & his partner. It was for them that Connor shifted his morals. “It isn’t necessarily for my benefit. Love & loyalty are also strong motivators.” He would never do to them what he did to offenders, though sometimes it wasn’t under his control. Not entirely. He was still doing the work to improve himself. He wondered if Lecter was motivated by self improvement. “Wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Lecter?”

Hannibal often wondered what would become of him if he were to peel away the flesh of his carefully crafted person suit. How would others react, should they glimpse the true nature lurking beneath? Will Graham had seen through him once, and in doing so, had abandoned their bond, forsaking their friendship as if it were a mere trinket. That betrayal burned within him, driving Hannibal deeper into the cruel embrace of his porcelain mask. The same cruelty evoked as a weapon against the other detective. He wore it now with a fragile awareness—knowing full well it could not endure forever. Sooner or later, it would all shatter.

His ego, steeped in sadism, pushed him forward, though he never deluded himself into thinking he could evade the authorities indefinitely. Sooner or later, there would be a mind sharp enough to unmask him—to unravel who he truly was and what he had become.

Connor could either coax the mask from Hannibal with delicate caution or forcefully remove it, shattering it in the process.

Hannibal was willing to be seen again, it seemed. If not understood to some varying level. That intimacy and perception was terribly addicting it seemed. Although he did have a healthy sense of self-preservation... he hungered more for recognition for his truer nature. Peeling back his face to reveal the stag.

"I came to understand I could not control someone's cancer, a car crash, these inevitabilities we will all eventually face that will alter us to our very being. But the mind… the mind is something I can influence one way or another. I can offer it peace, a fleeting solace, a semblance of kinship amid their particular madness. We crave to be seen, to be understood, even if we fight against it with every ounce of our strength. I find this new calling far more fulfilling, Connor. For within these minds, I am granted a gift; a rare and precious gift, one I do not take lightly."

There is a pause. It was not noble. But the thought amused him. He was far from noble or righteous. At least, not how he had made it seem. His sadism. And his hunger. His wickedness. He nods faintly, "I stand guilty of many transgressions, as all men are." And yet, Hannibal smiles. An offering. "Tell me, Connor, are you likewise burdened by your own sins? Do they push you into fruitless pursuits, ever chasing any form of redemption? Or have you become apathetic to them?"

[pallanophblargh]

For those who are adventurous and don't want to wait around, I've listed all Green Rider series cover arts onto my dusty old Society6.

For the rest of you, here's a fun little compilation of all the horse heads over the years.

(The last four illustrations are being done in a smaller format to save my aging hands and time, but I like them as much if not more than the original four.)

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Having salivated over European food yesterday, here’s the head children’s takes on gastronomy:

[maliro-t]

some game design thinky thoughts.

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[jazelock]

Nothing Lingers Just Out of Sight

Idea for a Fear Spirit that has the Special Rule:

Flinch Away from Shadows

Generate 1 Fear whenever you use a Power Card on a target land with your Presence. Generate 1 additional Fear if your next Action in the same Power Phase removes all your Presence from that land.

and the Innate Power of:

Paranoia Seeps Through the Land

Speed: Slow, Range: 0, Target Land: Any - This power may be Fast. - You may push 1 of your Presence. - You may repeat this power for each Moon element you have.

[readymades2002]

something about like. interacting with people and having these little moments of genuine hope and joy is besides making everything else feel worse it just makes me so so so angry about how much time i’ve spent not being a person among people and how hard it is to fight that inertia and how many obstacles are still in the way externally to become a person among people. but when i reply to people on here or text people or learn about my coworkers or manage to talk to someone without waiting for them to say something first it makes the world feel like its still within my reach. or something

[inbabylontheywept]

I was walking out of the Walmart today, and a car passed me, and I got this incredibly vivid impression. It wasn't really in words, but if I had to put it into words, the two key points would be

a). I needed to watch that car and

b). That I needed to be careful, because the driver of the car was a massive bitch.

It kind of took me by surprise, because I really had no reason to be beefing with that car, and I also hadn't really had an impression like that since I was religious, which was in my teen years. Right? It'd been a decade since I had a little voice whisper in my ear, and I'd basically written it off as nonsense.

Anyway, I watched the car, because The Spirits or whatever were very insistent that I did. Car drove fine, went into the parking spot, inched forward, and right when it should've just stopped, the driver gunned it for some reason and it ran into the curb and cracked its bumper.

So, the driver got out, and she went to the front of the car to check that yes, she had cracked her bumper, and then she turned to look at me. The parking lot wasn't empty, but we were the only two people standing in that row, and I'd probably been staring at her for tenish seconds now.

She demanded very angrily to know why I hadn't warned her of the curb. And I could have said I didn't know you were about to gun it or is it my job to help every stranger park, or even could you have even heard me, inside your car?

And all of those would have been fine, but I was really, really busy digesting that I had somehow communed with Mormon Jesus again for the first time in fifteen years, and that the communion had mostly been there to let me watch someone park badly (?), so what I responded with was:

"Because it was foretold."

And I can't tell which would be funnier, if she went silent because there's not much to be said to that, or if she went silent because in Utah, she might actually believe me, but we parted ways without more words.

I'm still kind of digesting this myself, actually.