#mixed ore patches

[alexanderwales]

Game Review: Factorio: Space Age (pt 2)

This is the second part of my review of Factorio: Space Age, covering the planets. This will have more spoilers than the previous section, but also include more cohesive thoughts on the expansion as a whole.

Vulcanus

Once you've built a spaceship, you have a choice of three planets to go to, and you can do them in any order you'd like. Each planet comes with its own researchable rewards, which require you to build up a base on the planet capable of making a science pack and shipping it into space (or alternately, to remake all sciences on the planet, but this is stupid and pointless given what lies further down the tech tree).

I chose Vulcanus first. There are five resources here, three of which can't be found anywhere else: coal, sulfuric acid, calcite, tungsten ore, and lava. Lava gets used to make anything having to do with copper and iron using the foundry, which is most of the things in Factorio. Sulfuric acid gets used with calcite to make water, which is one of the notable things missing from Vulcanus, along with oil. Plastic requires a long chain to make: coal liquefaction into heavy oil into light oil into petroleum into plastic. Because rockets require plastic twice (LDS and blue chips), you eventually need to set up a fairly sizeable build for this.

I didn't find any of this to be too interesting. Infinite resources are at least different, but there was nothing that fundamentally changed how I view the game, and I ended up setting up a bus with more fluids than usual, mostly making on-site plates, pipes, steel, etc. The art for it is cool, and impassable lava is at least a little constraining, but I didn't feel like it was all that great.

Tungsten ore is the main material from Vulcanus, and it's defended by the other major thing that makes the place unique, the worms. Each worm has a territory, and until you've killed your first worm, you don't have access to a tungsten ore patch, only loose scraps that have been laying around.

The worms are long and segmented, very distinct from the biters. They disable electronics with their attacks, making fountains of lava beneath you, and overall I think they're cool ... except that they're a little too easy to defeat. I set up a grid of 50 turrets with armor-piercing ammo, and that proved sufficient.

This is a boring solution. I wish it didn't work. It was the first thing I tried, and afterward I thought ... well, what was the point of that? I don't have a good solution to what you'd want to do to stop this from working, but I do think this is sort of bad design, since it's a "more dakka" solution. I've also seen that you can build a tank and take one out with a single uranium shell, which is even worse design. What I wanted was a fight were I needed to use poison capsules, land mines, strategically placed turrets, etc., some kind of mixed-asset offensive package, and what I got was fifty turrets in a stupid grid. I really do try to not be one of those players that optimizes myself out of having fun, but it's hard to motivate myself to do something the pointlessly hard way when there's something simple, easy, and foolproof.

The other thing about demolishers is that they have their own territory, and that territory never changes. This means that if you want to expand beyond a relatively modest starting patch, you need to kill them ... but unless you're going for a megabase, you don't need to kill more than three or four of them across the entire time playing the game, and since they only attack if you build in their territory, those worm encounters become like 1% of the Vulcanus experience.

I would have liked if the worm territories changed. I think it would have been cool if they fought each other for dominance over an area in a way you could capitalize on, or if they would expand into places that no one had claimed, or places a dead rival had left behind. It would have been cool to require the player to build up some do-nothing machines or other infrastructure to keep the worms back, like a sort of "build this at the edge of your territory to be in constant motion to convince the worms that it's occupied" type of thing. But instead, you just kill the worms and that's that, you never see them again unless you go hunting them. According to my end-of-game statistics, I killed 8 small demolishers and 2 medium demolishers, which was probably 5 more worms than I needed to kill, since I ended up with a lot of empty space I didn't do anything with.

So overall, Vulcanus is the weakest of the planets for me, and I think that's at least partly down to the under-use of the worms and the simplicity of the "new" mechanics.

Fulgora

Fulgora contains the ruins of a vast civilization, and there are no resources except the heavy oil between islands and the scrap that's left behind. Solar is terrible on Fulgora, but there are lightning storms at night, and lightning towers can collect it into accumulators to power your base.

Scrap gets "recycled" into a bunch of different things, and so it quickly because a nightmare of sorting things out, dealing with excess products, and turning complex materials into simple ones. There are no iron plates, those need to be recycled from iron gears. There are no copper platers, those need to be recycled from copper wire. Blue chips, which in any other circumstance need to be jealously guarded, are found in abundance.

I found this to be great fun. The challenge is certainly unique, turning the production chain on its head, but it has a nice "ramp" to it, as first you get a pile of crap, then you turn it into things, then you uncover excesses that are gumming it up, and the problems keep coming, but they usually come after you've solved some other problem.

When I started, I did a sushi belt (ed. - a sushi belt is a belt that contains multiple unsorted good, controlled by circuit conditions which allow certain limits of each item to go by, named after conveyor belt sushi restuarants), which was good enough for the short term and got me all the basic technologies, but ran into all the problems that come with a sushi belt, and switched over to a belt-based sorting system of splitters that could handle two full green belts of scrap input.

There is, for me, one big miss on Fulgora, which is that the lightning storms are basically not a challenge at all. You set up a grid of substations, each with a lightning rod, and that protects your base. You set up accumulator fields on one tip of the island, and this is a pretty boring solution. If you went to Gleba first, you can instead set up heating towers that burn the fuel you get from scrap, but this doesn't seem like it saves terribly much more space, and either way you need the lightning towers, so I'm not sure it's worth anything, and I never implemented that plan.

One of the other big challenges of Fulgora is that it's a set of islands, and there's no way to place anything on the oil sands. Additionally, there are two types of islands, one with a fair amount of space and minimal scrap, the other with tons of scrap and almost no room. In theory, this encourages a rail world, but in practice, the first island I plopped down on was the one I stayed on the entire time, and my rail network, such as it was, extended to only two of the smaller islands to guarantee all the scrap I would ever need. I think I rolled high on one of those islands: 63M scrap is a ton, but that's what I ended up with on default settings. With the drills from Vulcanus, expected output is double that, and with the legendary drills I can now produce, it would be 787M. There's simply not a need to place rails elsewhere.

I do feel that Fulgora would have benefitted from some enemies of some kind, either those that lived on the oil fields, so you'd have to build defenses on the edges of the islands, or some kind of robot enemy that you needed to kill to take islands from. Given the setup of an abandoned high-tech planet, and the electrical weapons you unlock there, it would have been nice to have some reason or chance to use them. I've definitely played Factorio scenarios with bot opponents and buildings that can be captured after the AI's defenses have been breached.

Still, the scrap sorting puzzle was a good one, with many solutions, and Fulgora was a ton of fun.

Gleba

Gleba is a swampy fungi planet. There are no conventional resources except for stone, and pretty much everything else is derived from two plants, jellynut and yamako, that get broken down.

The main mechanic of the planet is spoilage, where materials break down over time. Jellynut and yamako last for about an hour, the products you get from them are much less, a material made from both of them, bioflux, lasts a lot longer, and nutrients, which are fed to the new building, the biochamber, last hardly any time at all.

Spoilage is cool because it requires a very different mindset. Normally in Factorio, you're building up big buffers to minimize downtime. On Gleba, you want as little buffer as possible, just constant rivers of materials flowing by to be as fresh as possible, because if anything stays still for too long, there's a chance it'll spoil, which will stop the machine trying to take the ingredient, which can create a spoilage cascade.

My initial plan was to have some kind of circuit-based just-in-time system, where every machine would be monitored in order to see what ingredients it needed, and everything would be made fresh-to-order.

I ended up not doing this, mostly because demand stays relatively constant, and where it doesn't stay constant, you can just eat the spoilage costs. There's so much abundance that you really don't need to care about half your crops going to waste.

The other reason I didn't end up going with this is because unfortunately, the "river of goods" solution has essentially no complications to it, and you can simply dump everything into a recycler/incinerator at the end. In some of the Factorio overhaul mods, this concept is called "voiding", a way of dealing with byproducts, and if you make voiding easy, you essentially remove a logistical challenge, which means less gameplay. I kind of get why they made this easy, but ... I don't know. I did kind of want something that would require a big, complicated solution, a factory that dances on the edge of clogging itself up.

I ended up with a completely belt-based system, with a belt of jelly and mash, then a belt of bioflux, all nutrients made on demand, and production lines in defined blocks. The final build does 520 science/minute, which becomes 2Ks/m with full-prod biolabs, most of which goes into the trash, since it's not actually consumed all the time.

One of my favorite little puzzles of Gleba was the metals, which are produced with bacteria that spoil in a minute, becoming ore. There's a process, with bioflux, of having bacteria make more bacteria, but if the bacteria ever stop flowing (if, for example, you have enough ore), then they spoil and die, and the whole production line stops. So you need to build in a little kickstart system that will inject new bacteria if it's needed, and I found that to be delightful to work on.

The other major thing on Gleba are the enemies, which are pentapods. Pentapod eggs are necessary to make biochambers and science, but after you have one, you can set up breeding, which is dangerous given they can make more of themselves, but definitely the way to go. There are three forms of pentapod, all with their own weaknesses, and ...

Look, I went to Gleba last, but I put up a defensive wall fairly early on using only materials that I had gotten from Gleba, and then basically never had any cause to think about the pentapods again. Because I slapped this down with blueprints, it took all of ten minutes, most of which was spent fixing the kind of scuffed corners (skill issue). So I would say the amount that I actually got to experience the pentapods was pretty minimal. I also shipped in four artillery turrets that are crowded around a box of ammo, supplied by site-made shells using imported tungsten, and the circle almost entirely contains my pollution cloud, so in theory it's just an easily solved problem.

It might have been different if I had gone to Gleba first, I don't know and can't say without actually doing that, but I would have liked a little more of a challenge, and this might be where being a veteran hinders me.

Overall, I really enjoyed Gleba, the mechanics were new and unique, the little puzzles inherent in design were interesting, and I thought that overall it had the best art direction of the four planets, which is saying something, because I think they're all great on the front.

Aquilo

On every other planet, a "cold start" is possible, building up from just what you find laying around. Aquilo is different: it's a planet with ammonia oceans and some scattered liquid vents, and part of the point of it is that you need materials from outside, including anything made from iron, copper, or stone. You can't softlock on other planets, but you can softlock on Aquilo.

Aside from requiring pretty solid planetary logistics, Aquilo's main mechanic is heat. It's cold enough there that bots don't work very well, and everything has to have a heat pipe near it for it to function, including pipes and belts. To heat up a heat pipe takes either nuclear, fusion, or the heat towers that burn up fuel, and if the heat ever stops flowing, everything will seize up, requiring heroic efforts to get running again.

There's not all that much to Aquilo. You pull up slurry from the ocean, split it into ammonia and ice, use them together to make ice platforms, import concrete, and then combine oil and ammonia to make rocket fuel, which is used to both launch rockets and to toss into heating towers for power and heat to keep everything running.

The science pack is easy, though it require imported holmium plate, and my entire 200 science per minute production line was run off a tiny cluster of buildings that would have been pretty trivial to expand.

It seems to me that Aquilo is at least partly inspired by Seablock, an infamous mod where you start with almost nothing on a tiny island that you have to expand with the mineral sludge you dredge up with an offshore pump. But Seablock is a very long mod, one that typically takes hundreds of hours, and here ... well, there are a handful of challenges, and they're not all that challenging. I think I could probably list them out now.

Making ammonia also makes ice. You can void excess ice through repeated recycling, but ammonia can't be voided except by combining it with crude oil to make solid fuel, which can then be put in an incinerator. I solved this problem with a simple circuit condition.

Science and some crafting uses coolant, which must be cooled back down after use. If you just keep making coolant, eventually the system will seize up, since you won't be able to put more hot coolant into the system. But because this is a lossy cycle (you lose half the coolant) you can just hook a pump up to a tank and only inject more hot coolant into the system when below a threshold.

Outposts need their own heating for the pumps to work, and those outposts are, on default settings, quite far away. This requires setting up a self-sufficient little heating module that's either serviced by train or which runs entirely with materials found at the outpost. I ended up doing two different modules, one for oil outposts and the other for everywhere else ... but I never actually had to use them, because there were sufficient resources for tens of thousands of resources right next to the starting area.

As the "final boss", I am underwhelmed, and even as one of four planets I find myself a little underwhelmed. I don't know how much postgame stuff I'm going to do, but I can't see that there's going to be much challenge in going large on Aquilo, except that I might have to build another ship for moving in materials (as currently I have a single ship that makes a circuit of the solar system for materials and also handles shipments of science).

There is also, again, a lack of enemy. Once the rocket fuel setup was done, I had a single scare when ammonia backed up and stopped ice production, which shut down the water chem plant, which killed the turbines and stopped power to the entire base. But that didn't even freeze anything out, and it was fixed pretty easily from a restart module I'd built earlier, and after that, the ammonia issue was fixed to never have that problem again. If the cold is the enemy, it's not enough of one for my tastes.

Integration

With each planet you conquer, you get a new science pack, which opens up new technologies, and in theory you, can use them on other planets. These buildings are very powerful, and so there's some incentive to return to old factories, rip up old designs, and install new ones using the better buildings.

I did eventually do this, but I'm not sure how much I actually needed to. My furnace stacks were replaced by the foundries from Vulcanus, supplies by a hauler ship exclusively for calcite, though I did make an abortive attempt to just harvest calcite from space using a stationary space platform.

(I made four of them before giving up on the project, and found out only later that asteroid spawn rates depend on how many chunks large the ship is, so the ideal build has asteroid collectors on very long arms, and there's nothing in the game that tells you about the asteroid spawning thing, so ... whatever, it's opaque and very gamey hidden stuff, of the kind that I hate.)

I replaced my circuit production areas with the EMP, which saved vast quantities of resources and also made more circuits at a much faster rate within the same blueprint. I upgraded most belts to green.

I didn't end up using the biochambers much, in part because they need nutrients to run, and 50% prod with more module slots is great, but not so great that I wanted to set up a biter egg farm that could potentially blow up in my face.

Cryochambers just came too late for me to implement them anywhere, though I probably would if I kept playing to the megabase stage, or if I'm gunning for an achievement that requires updating Nauvis.

So I think, strangely, when considering how the planets impact each other, they ... kind of don't all that much? Yes, having foundries on Gleba means that you can make all your belts and things at a fraction of the cost, but how much doesn't that really impact anything? It meant that my ore production areas could be smaller, I guess. Is that worth anything? I kind of don't think so, if I'm considering the main gameplay to be in terms of design and decisions. Foundries saved me from having to lay down a furnace stack. EMPs saved me from having to have expansive red circuit lines to get the blue chips necessary for rocket launches.

Ideally, I would have liked one or two killer techs that mostly work through combining each planet's "thing". Like imagine that there was a combination recycler and foundry that melted down whatever was put into it, giving you molten copper and iron in exchange, creating a whole new kind of problem in exchange for ... I don't know, much much faster recycling, or less loss from recycling, or maybe a recipe that allowed true voiding. Or if you went to Gleba and then Vulcanus, and were able to bring biochambers that would allow the cultivation of some new specimen specific to that environment, maybe something that would allow better plastic production, or could pull water out of the air, both of which are kind of a pain in the ass on Vulcanus. Couldn't there be some kind of new bacteria swimming in the oil sands of Fulgora? Not something that would trivialize any challenge, something that would be a reward for having two flavors of research from two different planets. Ideally, there'd be six of these in total, allowing for each pair to benefit each other pair, but at that point I start to feel like I'm just asking for new content.

I cracked my game back open to check the tech tree, and all the Aquilo techs require all three planets. The are two techs that require mixed packs: Rail Support Foundations, which simplify rails for Fulgora, and Railgun Damage, which increases the power of the railgun. That's it. This screams missed opportunity to me.

So in terms of how the planets and their mechanics interact with each other ... I would say that they mostly don't, which is a bit of a shame. The biochamber in particular requires nutrients, which makes it effectively unusable on Vulcanus and Fulgora ... unless you're shipping in heroic quantities of bioflux, I guess, though I don't think that I could ever see myself doing that. I guess maybe on Vulcanus, which has the aforementioned plastics problem? But it feels like the kind of thing that would mostly be done for a stunt rather than because it was actually the right thing to do. And potentially on Nauvis, but it does seem like a megabase thing to do, rather than normal play. I will have to do the math, this too might be a skill issue.

(Real quick: 1 Bioflux makes 8 nutrients in a standard biochamber, which is 12 with prod, which is 24 MJ. A biochamber consumes 500kW, so with no spoilage nutrients allow 2 crafts of the 2 second oil cracking recipes, which means that every Bioflux can, at most, turn 960 heavy oil into 1080 light oil rather than the 720 light oil it would normally crack into. But obviously since the Bioflux has to be shipped in, it ends up being less than that. This is obviously more effective than shipping over oil itself, but ... man, I don't know, this seems very weak, even with adding in productivity to other steps. I guess the use case in Nauvis, where you're in theory shipping Bioflux anyway in order to feed captive biters, but that's still premised on an oil shortage that I never actually experienced.)

I do also want to say that quality had very little impact on my play. I tended to carry around some high quality quality modules and use them when crafting infrastructure, but in most cases it just wasn't much to write home about. It's most important for the ships, and for personal stuff, but it never felt that important.

And finally, I do want to give a shoutout to how easy and effective remote viewing was. One of the things I'm going to eventually do, after a Factorio break, is the 40 hour achievement run, and I have to imagine that a lot of that is just landing on a planet, doing the unlocks, building a rocket to get back, then having starter bots do all the actual base building for me, which is pretty cool.

Conclusion

Space Age took me about 140 hours, and I would say that about 10 of that was idle time while I was waiting for legendary ship parts or for a buildup of materials. The Jacknape-class ships have an issue with ammo production where they can more or less keep up with rockets, but the belt buffer goes from the front of the ship to the back, meaning that it empties from where it's needed most, rather than emptying where it's needed least, and yeah, having a fully stacked buffer takes a hot minute of waiting. Similarly, the quality module I made works over sufficient time scales, but especially while waiting on quality quality modules, there's a real temptation to just leave it running rather than actively playing.

130 hours for a veteran player is a long time for an expansion, much longer than I would have expected, even knowing what I knew about the expansion going in. Some of that time I don't count as expansion time, like all the parts where I was just doing normal Factorio stuff, and I did end up building adapted malls on each of the planets, which added on more time that could have been cut out by making an effective blueprint the first go-around, and which I don't really count as expansion time, because there's not much that's unique about making the new malls. But even if I'm arbitrarily cutting things out, that's still a ton of time.

Overall, I'm extremely happy with it, and I think I'll be more happy with it once there's another round of iteration, QoL, changes based on feedback, and modding. The modding scene for Factorio is really really good, and I have to imagine that the expansion is only going to make it better, particularly some of the changes that were made to implementation.

But I do think that it could have been more, and maybe this is just coming from a guy with more than a thousand hours in this game and multiple overhaul mods under his belt. It's very possible I would have had a better time with it if I'd chosen a higher difficulty, though of course that's very hard to know ahead of time. Certainly there were some design misses for me, and at least some of that is because I have enough experience that I can fix things with circuitry, plan a base that doesn't immediately become spaghetti, and see the deadlocks coming. I'm not saying that it wasn't hard, because parts of it certainly were, and I'm not saying that I made a bunch of perfect bases with no major flaws, because there were designs that needed to be ripped out and belts that needed to squeak through. But I think I would have preferred more complexity, more problems, more more more, and I'll have to hope that mods can give it to me.

All that said, this is the best expansion I've ever played, they put a ton of work into making sure that every planet was truly different from the others artistically and mechanically, and it's a 10/10 from me.

(I do plan on getting all achievements ... eventually. The "win in 40 hour" achievement seems very doable, and that's the hardest of the lot, though the others might take some significant time. It took me multiple years to finally getting around to doing the last green chip achievement, so I'm in no rush.)

[atefingersdagger]

34 for the touching prompt for clato🥺

"Washed Clean"

Prompt 34: Washing the other's body

Thank you for requesting!

*

The iron smell of the clay is too much like blood, and it’s color is not far off either. It covers her completely as she had skidded down the side of a cliff with cruel bruising on the way to the bottom. She used to be skilled at climbing mountains, yet things have changed as quickly as she had lost her footing and slipped.

In front of Clove now is a running shower as she stands on tiles, dejected at her complete failure. Her hands are shaking after the flashback, something she hasn’t experienced in over a year. She had naively believed that such issues were behind her, despite the nightmares still being present every other time she sleeps.

To her, Cato moves from the faucet and lays his palms on her hips. He slips them under her muddy shirt, pulling it off from where it had stuck to her stomach. Even after the second rebellion, he touches her like he might lose her tomorrow.

Once they are undone, he pulls her into the shower. It’s reminiscent of him leading her away from the feast, saving her life in a game where he was supposed to cease it’s mechanisms. On ungrateful days, she thinks the easier route would have been to die in that arena by the impact of rock to her temple.

She lets her hair down in the shower, uncaringly throwing the ties out before closing the glass wall that keeps the floor from becoming drenched. The running water is warm and quickly flows to flatten her dark hair from her scalp and down to her spine. Immediately, red begins to swirl into the drain, much as if she was cleaning a wound.

Clove sees the clay on him too from when he helped her up, almost slipping into the creak that made it damp and pliable in her hands. Had she been a kid, she would have played in it, made little drawing or miniature mountains. But she’s an adult, and she sees nothing but her past hovering over her even after all this time.

Ten years and she still heaves when thinking of the tour, hates certain scents, and she sees the other tributes in the smallest of things. Her skin also bares witness in the form of scars and nerve damage. Only Cato is covered in more, and although his phantom pains have faded away to near nothing these days, they both remember how his body had mauled by mutts, full-thickness avulsion showing the workings of tendons and muscles until the Capitol decided they both should win.

Well, that had been her doing, as angry as she was. As betrayed by the people she used to worship was. And she thought her cruelty had been impeccable, had been the top-tier of what a tribute could offer for audiences. At least her dark humor has stayed in tact.

“The one time I don’t bring a knife to the function, and everything goes to shit.”

Cato laughs, standing behind her, running soap along her right arm. He goes over it’s surface as though his fingers are tending to cut; careful and thorough, making sure she’s clean of the thing that reminds her of bloodbaths and carcasses with their jugulars punctured and slit or their rustic intestines shown after being gutted.

“Mountain climbing isn’t a function.” Cato helps to rub a dried patch on her skin. “I agree though, you should have brought your good luck charm.”

“And we shouldn’t have been so close to the Argilla.”

The place in 2 where iron is extracted from ore and processed, manufacturing with blast furnaces and some smelting. They had spent decades emptying waste of it nearby, allowing it to flow into that stupid creak and infuse into the clay. Thanks to the synthetic compounds that allow it to mix in to make it more like what can be found on seafloors rather than naturally occurring sediments.

“I thought I’d be nose-blind to the smell.” Clove sighs.

“I know.” Cato rests his chin on her shoulder and slathers suds on the front of her clean, upper thighs, having to reach down quite a bit to do so. She doesn’t understand how he feels comfortable in that position.

“Thought these things wouldn’t bother me anymore, either.”

“Poor baby.” Cato teases. Anyone else, and it’d seem mean for a comment such as that to be said, but she can tell by his touch that he is trying to comfort her.

“I ought to stab you.”

“Careful, I might like that.”

“Kinky fucker.” Clove playfully snides, purring as he begins digging his fingers through her hair which had been cemented to her skin by the moisture.

Simple things such as this is where Clove becomes content, complacent in her mistakes. Cato helps keep her steady, not just in a literal sense of standing on tiles, but a metaphorical sense where she’s found somehow who helped her save herself. A knight in shining armor, but, of course, she would never admit that.

What she will admit, though, is that she enjoys Cato’s hands washing her clean of her worries.

[papilio-anima]

[ DEFENCE ]: when the sender rushes to defend the receiver against a threat of any description, the receiver takes a moment to consider how they feel about the sender. / from Gaming @starglittering

" WILL THEY, WON'T THEY? " @starglittering / Gaming

A descent into Liyue’s Chasm was never for the faint of heart. At least not during these times. Even in the most upper layers the mind altering miasma coated the rocky ground in unpredictable patches, its poison seeping into the skin and lungs of those who were unlucky to get too close to it. The cave system itself was nearly a nightmare to navigate. Too many tales of miners, soldiers, and adventurers alike getting lost deep within. Some even never being able to see the light of day again. The claustrophobic chambers eventually became their new home. 

It wasn’t always like this. It was a popular spot to mine for well sought ore. A way to support themselves and their families. That was until reports of mysterious and even deadly accidents started to crop up. For many years the Chasm was closed off to the public, putting the workers out of their jobs. And yet…

It was the Liyue Qixing that reopened the labyrinth once most of the above ground levels were purified. However, it was heavily advised that there were still some dangerous areas to avoid. Hoping people who adhere to such things are a lot easier said than done. Hence why the funeral director was sent to that very place. Along with her was Gaming. As the Gold-Standard Guard of the Sword and Strongbox Secure Transport Agency, he was insistent that they come with her. To prove they were more than just dance and deliveries. But mostly and importantly, to prove himself to her.

“I appreciate your assistance,” the director stated as they ventured further. Deeper. “I know corpse recovery isn’t an easy job for anyone. So I’m a bit surprised you opted to help,” she added in an almost jesting tone.

In truth, Hu Tao had only heard about the Chasm. It wasn’t fear that kept her away. That was far from it. She was partially curious about what sort of entities dwelled deep within. And yet, her line of work always pulled her elsewhere. As if it was a form of subconscious protection. 

This time going on a dangerous mission felt different. It wasn't that long ago since Gaming had made his heartfelt confession. One that she had been hoping to hear. And now? She was guiding someone that she cared for into a place where it was rumored no one could possibly return from. Crazy was putting it lightly.

And yet. She felt she didn't have a choice.

The boundary between life and death around Liyue was fraying about. And death was encroaching upon the living. It was her job to get to the bottom of this. Both literally and figuratively.

For now she directed her fellow undertakers to carefully gather the scattered deceased. Their lifeless bodies were diligently covered with thick, soft sheets. The air was permeated with the stench from decay and miasma.

“Of course, before we even bring any of these remains back to the surface they need to be cleansed” she spoke matter of factly.

“If this is something you aren’t comfortable with you are not required to watch.” she said, turning to Gaming.

As suspected there presence was soon spotted. Something indeed was crawling around the Chasm. The only problem was that whatever it was couldn't not be seen, but only heard. It came from a darkened tunnel nearby. The sounds of growls and scratches against the rock walls. Getting louder with each passing second.

Hu Tao opened her mouth to speak, even gripping onto her own polearm. Seemed like she had a quick thing to take care of before performing the ritual...

❛my first instinct is to protect you, no matter the cost.❜

His words halted her in place. She blinked. Confusion turned into a flustered expression. Archons! Why was she blushing at a time like this??? No..no no... she had to concentrate. But seeing the person she had grown to love rise up to protect her. Mixed emotions swelled within her own heart.

"Aiyaaaaaa, how many times.... " a sigh escaped from her as she reached out her hand to grab onto whatever fabric of clothing she could find. There. She took hold of his arm.

"I won't be happy if I have to drag your butt back to Liyue harbor in a casket!" she exclaimed, her brows furrowing at the wushou dancer.

[joyner111]

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[beautytreats]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 25x Inkadinkado Wood & Clear Stamps Stencils Ink Pad Transfers Washi Tape.

[toadeyes-miqote]

Taking inventory - 1

Somewhere Mor Dhona between 2.3 and bloody banquet

The large bird ruffled it's feathers, as it watched it’s Miqo’te rider unpack the saddlebags. The Miqo’te’s ear twitched in annoyance at the smell that came from one of the packages before she swiftly tossed it in disgust into the slop bucket. Confounded that despite the smell, whatever it was managed to stay hidden so long.

To one side of the table, fishing lure had been set aside. Into the slop bucket went items that couldn’t be kept for the next trip out. The variety of seafood and meats that she managed to salt and dry went into the small crate. Hopefully Higiri or F'lhaminn would be able to make something out of it.

She couldn’t help but to gather this and that, a part of her still thinks like the hunter she was, the part of her that was hoping that he would delight in the new assortment of meats and vegetables for the kitchen when he sees them. He had a fondness of stews and roasts.

Brushing thoughts of the past aside, she set to work on another crate, ore that was prospected on request, commissioned items for her guilds and Ehcatl Nine to be handed in on the next trip back. She was rather fond of the renegade Ixali tribe that focused more crafting items for their dream of flight.

Even if their requests had led her to brave the cold sinus crushing winds of the Coerthas Central Highlands and the ever-watchful eyes of the Knight Commander of Camp Dragonhead. Granted she was not keen on the cold weather robbing her of her sense of smell and inflicting upon her the face crushing migraines whenever she had to be there longer than she liked.

She shuddered at the thought of the highly enthusiastic Knight Commander. There were leves that she opted not to take on, out of suspicions that it was a ruse by the charismatic Knight to have her drop by Camp Dragonhead and have her accept his invitations for longer stays in person.

It was not so much that he tried to proposition her. But that he had been constantly giving her this feeling of a hunt going wrong. The lack of a scent to associate him with only made it worse. It had set her senses on edge to be in the same room with him and it took much willpower to not freak out when speaking with him. She was thankful that his office was always filled with people, they afforded her multiple focal points to redirect her focus away from him.

Her nose twitched, she could smell him before she could hear the courtesy crunch of sand and straw beneath sandaled feet. The scent of too many Mqio’te claiming him mixed with ink and a rather faint trace of an expensive and fine oil for blade care, all that beneath a fresh soap. Her eyebrow twitched on recognising one of the Miqo’te marks left upon him. 

“I heard you came back.” He offered a warm smile and a warm mug of beverage. He was wary enough of her chocobo to stay out of pecking range. A click of her tongue and the big bird “kweh” at her in reply. It gave her companion a critical eye and a shudder of it's feathers before retreating further into the stable. A sharp “chirrup” from the Miqo’te and the bird bow before the rogue who return the courtesy with a flourish.  

part 2 of this eventually

-----------------

Yarn is an IRL curse too

The amount of procrastination that goes into transcribing stuff and reading my handwriting.... My poor Mor Dhona shorts are all in bits and pieces. Gosh I want my DPS parkour short.... looks at the Cid short

Hunter, alchemist, forest Miqo'te who relies on her nose a lot. she associate people with scent and tracks them through it. Probably only a few NPCs suspect this but dare not ask her how they smell to her.

Totally regretting not actively screenshotting stuff pre Stormblood. Now I risk getting gas lighted by patches. XD

[predvestnik]

         ❛ Nobody you should worry about. ❜ His voice rises selectively from his chosen place of rest — against a tree, in a patch of soft grass and several meters away from a group of Survey Meks mapping the ore clusters in the region. Any noises produced in their operation were mixed to the onslaughts of the duelist mere moments ago and, somehow, Tartaglia found it fitting, truly entertaining. So he stayed as the silent audience to something private.

Not quite hidden, not quite in view. The shadows otherwise cast over him are replaced by the bright light of a day still in its peak as he makes himself fully seen. And lest his presence be mistaken for foul, the Harbinger anticipates probing, offers clarification. ❛ It was a fortunate coincidence that my little stroll led me to your training. ❜ His pace towards the edge of the clearing is unhurried, experimental. It meets a halt upon establishing a decent, comfortable gap between them.

         ❛ Outstanding performance, if you allow me the observation. ❜ He completes for a complete reading of the other as eyes remain affixed to the champion's every move. Tartaglia scans the details, from the quality of the swordsmanship to the mere acting of guarding the blade into its sheath. Everything matters, and coming from a notorious figure, the golden name of the Court of Fontaine, he expected nothing less — a validation of interest, the calling of a good challenge should the time ever come.

The presence of a clearing outside of the walls of the Court had proven to be the perfect spot for Clorinde to carry out her usual regiment of practice. While the duelists were provided with a ring inside the city, she found that she didn't appreciate the various stares and audience that she would gain-- her popularity was a burden more than a positive, and as a result, she chose to remain secluded during her training hours.

A flurry of lightning-fast swings effortlessly slashed through the air, and her arms had begun to burn with the effort. She had been here for hours at this point, and the sweat dripping from her chin gave her enough of an idea that she was nearing the end of her workout. Not to mention, judging by how high the sun sat in the sky, she would most likely be required in the Court.

As she moved to sheath her sword, Clorinde's eyes flickered to the side, surveying the trees and foliage surrounding the open area. She sensed the addition of an unwanted guest, and she made her way to the side to retrieve her dusty cloak from the ground. "Might I ask who I have the pleasure of entertaining?" Her words resounded in the makeshift arena, gaze continuing to make a quick sweep of her surroundings.

@predvestnik

[factoriostuff]

More Filter Applications

Besides making an entire cargo wagon with one type of item, you can also mix them. This is another application where filters come in real handy. Let's say you want to make green circuits and need to bring in iron and copper plates. If you want, you can make a train that has a filtered inventory so it fills up half the cargo with iron plates and then drives on to the next smelting area to fill the rest up with copper plates.

Outputting them at the intended green circuit factory can then be achieved in an orderly fashion by using filter inserters. That way, you can choose exactly where each type of item is going without having to use splitters.

Another possible use for filter inserters is for mixed ore patches. Sure you can filter all the belts with splitters, but setting that up can be quite laborious. It also isn't good for your belt throughput! If you have a full belt of mixed ore and split a fraction of it off, then you'll never get a full belt's worth of throughput. Depending on the size of the ore patch this might not be a problem if you can extract enough lines of belt anyway and merge them together. But still, you just hate to see this don't you?

The easy solution is just filling your train with all the various ores you're getting from the mixed patch (with no filters on the cargo wagon itself, just fill it up with everything you've got!) and then send the train off to go through all the trainstations that take iron/copper/coal/stone one after the other! For each station, schedule the train to leave as soon the number of the respective item hits zero and then go to the next.

If you use filter (stack) inserters at all your trainstations, then only the correct items will be taken from the cargo. Mixed ore patches are no problem at all with this approach, no filtered splitters needed!

Another classic use of filtered inventory slots is a "building train", i.e. a train with all the items necessary for building trainstations, outposts, defences or what have you!

You have to filter the inventory slots, because your inserters don't know what or how much they're supposed to put in the train. And of course you want to be able to send it back to base to restock automatically without having to do it yourself.

So you can set up filters on your wagons to make sure you get a certain number of stacks of the items you want. Without these filters, your inserters would just fill up the inventory with the more readily available items and leave no room for others. Here’s an example of what my building train looks like:

Fourty nuclear bombs may seem like overkill, but you never know how many biters you might run into when scouting for new ore patches! ;)

One thing of note here are the rail tracks in the very first cargo wagon. This is really helpful, because you can reach the first wagon while riding in the front of the train. So if you run out of track in your personal inventory, while manually driving your train and putting down rails in front of you loony-tunes-style, you can just grab more rails from the cargo. The other wagons normally can't be accessed from the front of the train.

Setting up the building train in a new save used to be a lot of work. But you don't have to worry about that anymore, since trains and wagons can be blueprinted now! Meaning you only have to do it once and can then use it over and over again!

The various types of filters can really make your life a lot easier, so it’s good if you know how to use them and keeping the possibilities in mind when building!

[thenamesblurrito]

What kind of stuff can Ruh-Maj make? I’m imagining a Big bowl of various edible things, the cybertronian version of trail mix and pemmican, stuff full of things needed to survive, but made to be long lasting and easy to store…

yes absolutely, she can make a filling meal out of literal junk, but it's so much more than just cooking!

she can take industrial grade energon runoff and chemically treat it to take one last charge to fuel machinery for another orn, then collect the crystallized waste and seed it in pockets of ore to start regrowing energon deposits. she can modify parts taken from broken appliances to something resembling medical grade and patch them together to create health monitors or approximations of prosthetics. she can rip apart the material of a building in disrepair to be restructured into a vehicle chassis, communication relay wiring, fine metalworking material, and raw substances to be melted down and recast, sunk back into a landfill (which on Cybertron is basically feeding the planet to restore its resources, not throwing away things that won't biodegrade), or reused by people with lower standards than the original owners.

think about it. the majority of resources we humans use are plant and animal based, earth and metal based, water based, or otherwise dependent on our easily obtained renewable resources. i'm sitting on a bed made out of wood, cotton, feathers, blended fabrics, metal springs and screws, etc. Cybertron on the other hand doesn't have quickly growing renewable resources like an organic planet. all of their resources come out of the planet and its slow ecological systems, or are lab created or synthetically grown, or harvested from other heavenly bodies like asteroids and moons. everything is finite, and if they don't deliberately put back into their industry and society the waste from what they used, they'd run out of resources. recycling is the basis of their entire ecosystem. Rum-Maj was an ecoengineer, and an excellent one, and she teaches her students not just how to use what they might consider trash, but how their entire world revolves around the give-and-take that can be summed up as "recycling"

[queernunnos]

God Stuff

Pantheon: Gaulish/Nemetondevos

Divine origin: Reincarnation of Cernunnos

Callings: Healer, Guardian, Liminal

Paths: Therianthrope, Druid

Purviews: Beasts(wild), Earth, Epic Strength, Prosperity, Wild, Nemeton

Innate Powers

Beasts: Animals will never attack or harm you, unless they are compelled by magic or Legendary creatures themselves. Animals answer to the Demigod’s divine presence. All aspects of living things obey her, and where she walks, she shares the feral power of all beasts with her friends and allies.

Earth: As long as you are standing on the ground (the bottom floor of a building counts) or an earthen surface, you cannot be forcibly moved from your location by any amount of physical force, and gain Enhancement 1 on Might and Stamina rolls. Reigning supreme over stones, dirt, and ore, the Demigod rules the dominion of Earth. Their overwhelming earthen power empowers their friends and compatriots,

hardening skin and shaping majestic works from clay.

Epic Strength: You have +1 Scale for purposes of lifting, breaking, or carrying large objects. You can use Might in place of Presence for intimidation, seduction, or building Bonds of camaraderie. There’s nothing a Demigod the dominion of Epic Strength can’t lift, break, or throw. Her epic might inspires those around her to similar, impossible feats.

Nemeton: You have your own sacred shrine. You can always sense who is in your nemeton and what’s happening there, and you may use Boons and marvels to take effect there as if you were present.

Prosperity: Whenever you exploit your wealth or financial status to influence someone, treat their Attitude towards you as one point higher. This does not stack with other magical Attitude bonuses. Material wealth and currency multiply in the hands of a Demigod with dominion over Prosperity. The material fortunes of her friends and allies also find their monetary gains increased.

Wild: You move through the wilderness with a dryad’s grace, ignoring any difficult or dangerous terrain based on dense undergrowth, fallen trees, briar patches, or similar plant-based hazards. Add Enhancement 2 on all rolls to establish stealth while in a wilderness area. Primal and untamed, the Demigod controls with wilderness with godlike ease. Her friends and compatriots need not fear the hazards of nature or deprivation so long

as she is present.

Knacks

SCENT THE DIVINE

Having a touch of divinity, you have an innate sense of anything divine near you. With a sniff or a knowing listen, you may detect another Scion (or God, or Legendary Creature, etc.) of a particular pantheon.

The Bare Minimum

You are always able to safely tend to someone’s wounds even if you have no sanitary medical tools available. Even if all you have are twigs and dirt, you’ll be able to perform surgery at no increased Difficulty and at no risk to your patient.

 Combat Medic

When you tend to an ally’s wounds in the heat of battle, once per turn remove any −1 Injury they may be suffering — including damage sustained to armor — without needing to roll. You may not make Mixed actions when utilizing this Knack.

Damage Conversion

When you administer medical attention to a patient or yourself as an action, convert any Injuries one lower: Maimed becomes Injured, Injured becomes Bruised, and Bruised injuries heal completely. 

Surgeon with the Hands of God

Halve the time you need to undertake any kind of medical procedure (such as surgery). You never face any increased Difficulty to treat a critically ill or injured patient.

Reconstruction

A FORTRESS

Once per day, make a Knack Skill roll. If any successes are achieved, remove any one Condition a target may face that is not necessarily an illness or ailment. Examples include ending a character’s blindness, restoring a limb with a perfect prosthetic, and ending paralysis or PTSD. You may cure additional ailments by spending 1 Momentum each. As an additional effect, which does not cost Momentum, at the beginning of the session you have the option to reassign your Attribute dots in any order as long as they remain within the same original categories. You cannot move Resistance dots into

Power dots, for example.

At the start of a combat scene, roll your Knack Skill with 1 Enhancement. Gain the following Stunts which you may spend the resulting successes on, each time you successfully Defend (e.g. an attack targeting you does not hit).

Get Out of Here (1s): A target you are protecting immediately makes the Disengage action.

Second Wind (2s): Heal a −1 Injury you have taken, including Injuries sustained by your Armor.

My Turn (1s) Make one additional attack action against an opponent that attacked your charge this round.

A SENTINEL

Choose a person or group of trivial tar gets to be your charge. When you guard your charge, you both gain +1 Defense so long as you stay in the same range band. You also gain +1 Enhancement to rolls to keep track of or defend your charge.

A TALISMAN

Bless an object (usually belonging to someone you wish to protect, but not required) and make a Knack Skill roll. If any successes are achieved, it then grants the bearer 2 Enhancement to rolls made to defend or protect against a particular person, thing, or situation as defined at the time of blessing. If you are making a talisman for your charge, this happens automatically without needing to roll.

A VIGIL

When you stand guard over a person, place, or thing, you do not need to eat or sleep so long as your vigil persists. This benefit extends so long as the protected target remains within your sight. You may do other things — talk, interact, move around,etc. — but must devote most of your time to keeping your vigil. You may only keep vigil over one thing at a time.

BY YOUR SIDE

Spend a point of Momentum to move to be next to someone you are protecting in an instant, regardless of the distance between you. You receive an innate warning whenever this Knack would come into play. If you are protecting your charge, you do not need to pay the cost.

EXPERIENCED TRAVELER

When you travel to a new place, no matter how remote, you quickly pick up the social mores and behaviors, along with enough of the language to get by. Add +1 Enhancement to any applicable rolls to blend into the culture, if the Storyguide feels a need to call for a roll at all. This bonus applies before you roll. Additionally, when you attend a social ritual (such as a wedding or a funeral or a birthday party) you always know exactly the right social mores to follow, and how to appropriately dress. Even if you were not invited, you will not read as out of place.

FLATLANDER

When you make a close combat, thrown, or ranged attack, you gain access and 1 Enhancement to apply any of the following Stunts to your action, in addition to the default set:

Glimpse the Other Side (any successes above Defense): Make a Clash of Wills. If the target fails, they are removed from reality (leaving play entirely) until the start of their next turn. They roll initiative as normal and reappear where they were standing on their action. An opponent removed from reality in this way cannot be targeted by any actions until they reappear.

Stutter Time(any successes above Defense): You force the target of your attack to suffer a penalty to their Initiative equal to the successes you spend on this Stunt. This pushes a fast opponent further down the initiative roster. If you are targeting an opponent who has already gone, they take this penalty at the start of the next turn.

Bend Space(any successes above Defense): Reduce the target’s Range by 1 for each success spent on this Stunt, to a minimum of Close, which lasts until the end of the target’s next action.

UNERRING DELIVERY

Send a message via another person — a stranger you choose on the street, a spirit or ghost of your pantheon, etc. — to someone in an instant, which can be done even if you are not present in the World, or somewhere else where a simple text or email might not reach.

ENFORCING THE BOUNDARY

Make a Knack Skill roll— on a success, create a barrier of force that protects you and all allies within short range of you. It moves with you, but you may not take the Rush or Disengage actions. The force field lasts until the end of a fight scene, until you are Taken Out, or until you choose to end the effect — whichever comes first. While enforcing this boundary, characters under its protection may not be targeted by attacks by weapons or abilities with the Firearms or Arcing tags. It adds your Legend in Enhancement to any rolls you make to resist the Rush action. This applies before you roll.

STEP SIDEWAYS

When you take a Move action, cross the distance instantly. This movement ignores hazardous and difficult terrain and crosses distance where there may not be a safe place to walk — such as across a chasm. So long as you can see your destination and it is within a distance you can Move, you appear there unharmed. This may only be used to augment the reflexive Move action, and does not apply to Rush or Disengage.

BLOODY-MINDED

You gain an additional Injured slot. If your Stamina is 5, you also gain an additional Maimed slot. This bonus is cumulative with the Bruised slots from having Stamina 3+.

KEEN-EYED PREDATOR

As the Hunter Knack of the same name

When you enter a Field, you extend your senses to determine what might await you. Ask one question from the following list for free. You may roll your Knack Skill and spend one success per additional question. The Storyguide must answer these questions honestly:

What kinds of hazards (such as terrain) are present?

Where is the nearest exit?

Where is the safest way in?

How many hostile enemies are present?

Who (or what) is the biggest threat?

SCENT OF BLOOD

You automatically know when you are in the presence of someone with a Bruised or greater injury and the level of her injury. You have 1 Enhancement to follow the trail of that person until she either washes away the scent or covers it with something stronger.

FERAL HUNTER

Choose a Heroic or Immortal Hunter Knack.

Internal Compass: You always know your precise direction — whether that be navigating while on foot or driving a car, or working your way out of a petty God’s labyrinthine prison. You do not ever have to roll to navigate somewhere, or to find your way out of being lost. If you are entrapped in a magical maze, make a Clash of Wills with 2 Enhancement.

KEEPER OF KNOWLEDGE

Gain access to one of the following Mortal Sage Knacks (Scion: Origin, p. 111): Blockade of Reason, Palace of Memory, or Presence of Magic.

Presence of Magic: You always know when you are near an object or place of true magical or sacred power. How this manifests is up to you.

DRUIDS KIT

This knack functions identically to the Heroic Healer Knack “Doctor’s Kit”, but rather than modern medical equipment, you heal with herbs you’ve collected in the wild. The stunts are likewise identical, but represent the following, respectively: Rare Herbs (1s), Poultice (2s), and Ritual Tincture (4s).

• Doctor’s Kit: At the start of a combat scene, roll Knack Skill. Spend the resulting successes on the following Stunts whenever a bandmate or allied character in the same range band as you takes an Injury:

Ice Pack (1) — Remove a −1 Injury, including those sustained by armor

Swift Bandaging (2) — Remove a −1 Injury

Emergency Operation (4) — Remove a −4 Injury until the end of the scene

AOIFE'S CURSE

By successfully striking a foe of lower tier with a hazel wand, you transform them into a beast of your choice, as in the Metamorphosis Boon “Transfigure”. This transformation is a Condition that resolves upon a future event you name that must be either guaranteed to occur within the arc, such as “when next the moon is full,” or something the target can make happen themselves, such as “when you give back what you stole.” The successful attack isn’t required against trivial targets.

BOONS

BEASTS

ANIMAL ASPECT

You choose an animal and emulate one of its iconic traits. Pick one of the following benefits:

Mobility: You can swim like a dolphin, burrow like a termite, or emulate flight with graceful leaps. You can ignore any dangerous or difficult terrain) or complicated passages, barriers, or hazards that form of movement could reasonably bypass.

Senses: Choose a specific circumstance in which the animal’s senses give an advantage— an eagle’s eyes can see clearly from far away, a bat can echolocate in total darkness, while a dog can track by scent for miles. You have Enhancement 3 on sense-based rolls where that advantage applies.

Other: Pick a miscellaneous trait, like an octopus’s camouflage, an anglerfish’s bioluminescence, or a peacock’s magnificent plumage. You either have Enhancement 2 on actions that trait benefits, or ignore up to 3 points of Complication it negates, whichever best represents the chosen trait.

LEADER OF THE PACK

You can speak to and understand all animals. Animals that don’t have a Legend rating treat their Attitude towards you as one point higher when determining whether you can persuade them to take on a task. This does not stack with other magical Attitude bonuses. Once you reclaim the Legend from this Boon, your animal helpers will still try to complete your requests, but may become distractible or less reliable, at the Storyguide’s discretion.

TOOTH AND CLAW

Choose an animal whose natural ferocity you wish to evoke. Your brawling attacks gain the Lethal tag and up to three points of other weapon tags appropriate to the chosen animal, such as Grappling and Piercing for an alligator’s bite or Pushing and Piercing for a rhino’s charge.

EARTH

SHAPING HAND

You can shape and mold stone, metal, and other earthen substances with your bare hands as though it were as malleable as clay. When this assists in an

action, like climbing a sheer cliff overhang or pulling a steel wall open, you gain Enhancement 3.

SKIN LIKE STONE

Your soft armor rating increases by one. If you aren’t wearing any armor (or other protective gear that provides a soft armor rating), it increases by three instead.

EPIC STRENGTH

A World of Glass

You are capable of tearing down walls, ripping up concrete, or rendering brick structures to powder in moments. Once per scene, you may make a Feat of Scale to enhance any Might-based action without having to pay a point of Legend.

Pistons for Fists

Your Close Combat and Athletics attack rolls strike with incredible force. On a hit, you can either send an opponent flying back one range band, or knock him prone. Felled enemies must succeed on a Dexterity + Athletics roll at Difficulty 3 to Rise from Prone even if you are not threatening them. This attack can scatter a group of trivial targets, gaining the Shockwave tag as long as all characters in the targeted range band are trivial

NEMETON

My World, My Rules

You open a portal to your nemeton, which spills into the Field around you, blurring the two places. The Field becomes either dangerous (with up to three points of Complications) or difficult terrain for everyone except you and your allies. The specific effects follow the themes of your nemeton: Bees swarm the area, a torrent of thermal water fills the room, or oak roots trip careless trespassers, for instance. Further, you and your allies may travel back and forth through the portal itself. Doing so in action time requires being at close range to the portal and making a successful disengage roll if necessary. Those within the nemeton cannot interact with the Field or vice versa. If you’re already in your nemeton, you may use this Boon to affect its terrain at no cost.

PROSPERITY

Blessed Wealth

You call forth wealth, conjuring up roughly $10,000 worth of riches (though you don’t need to bother keeping track of precise sums). This wealth takes the form of your choosing: a fresh wad of $100 bills in your wallet, coins of precious metal minted with your divine parent’s visage, a discreet deposit into your online bank account, or similar. Regardless of the form it takes, money conjured with this Boon wants to be spent — any that remains in your possession once the session ends vanishes. The money retains your blessing once it has been given away, giving a mortal Enhancement 3 on a single roll to run a business successfully or maintain a comfortable home and lifestyle (above and beyond the usual benefits of having money to spend). If it becomes divided among multiple characters, only the first one to roll gets the Enhancement.

DIVINE PROVIDENCE

You give your blessing to a specific group of mortals that belong to an organization or live in the same place, such as the employees of a business, the members of your cult, or the populace of a city. Your benevolence wards away economic misfortune, negating any mundane Conditions that arise from poverty or stabilizing larger-scale economies. A blessing on a city’s homeless population ensures they will fortuitously find enough resources to maintain their basic needs of sustenance and accommodation, while your favored city will weather recessions or other misfortune slightly better than others in the region. If you have a relationship to the group or city that benefits from this that is represented by a Path, you can evoke that Path an additional time each session.

WILD

OVERGROWTH

You cause plants to sprout and rapidly grow from the soil, cracks in concrete, or any other surface that can support them. You can create difficult terrain anywhere within range and create one or more terrain features that provide a total of 3 points worth of Complications or Enhancements. For the rest of the scene, you direct the plants to attack an enemy as a simple action, rolling Presence +Survival. These attacks have the Bashing, Grappling, and Versatile tags.

[definitelynotplanetfall]

this isn't even complicated. you mix gold ore with nitric acid to extract gold powder. then you have depleted acid that you can get a little more gold out of but it creates generic "chemical waste." chemical waste can be treated with sulfuric acid to recover coal, stone and steam. coal and steam are in the proper ratio to do coal liquefaction and then there is another coal patch nearby to make plastic with. then you combine plastic, copper, gold, and sulfuric acid to make integrated circuits. the stone gets turned into saltpeter and some more chemical waste, which is then used to recoup some of the nitric acid. it literally couldn't be simpler. why is this so difficult for me

note to self: if extremely tame resource loops mess you up this bad, never play bob or py

[saphira-approves]

Wing AU for the Inheritance Cycle

If you’re not familiar with a Wing AU (does it even count as an AU???? it’s more like… a snapchat/insta filter but for fandom, ya feel?), the concept is all of your favorite characters, but they have wings now, and honestly I think it’s underrated! It’s such a cool concept. I love putting wings on people.

So, how would this work in our dearly beloved Cycle? Especially with dragons thrown into the mix!

Humans

For humans, wings would be mostly aesthetic. Not large enough to get them off the ground, but if they fall from a high place they can usually manage a glide. Color, shape, and size vary from region to region, family to family, and person to person.

In Palancar Valley, for instance, you’ll see a lot of gray and brown, and even some wings that change to white in the winter, but red isn’t unheard of, either. They’re also decently large, some big enough to achieve liftoff with a good updraft.

In the big, densley populated regions, especially cities, wings are smaller, with more colorful patterns and color variation. Upper class citizens and noble families often add color to their wings with dyes, if not ribbons, gems, and feathers from birds (or, in some cases, other people—probably a popular practice in Dras Leona).

Desert dwellers, on the other hand, have feathers ranging mostly in brown shades, and often with a metallic or iridescent sheen to reflect light and heat off their wings. It’s not uncommon to see glints of bronze, copper, and golden feathers among them. Their wings are also large, to better radiate heat and provide shade, and also to protect against cold desert nights.

Elves

Elves, their physiology being heavily influenced by dragons, have shiny, brightly colored wings, ranging in hue across the entire spectrum of color. They have feathers, like humans do, but the quills of the feathers are slightly stiffer, and sharp around the edges (not to be confused with “sceathers” or, stars forbid, “elongated scales”).

Genetically, wing shape and color vary from family to family, but elves use magic to manipulate them so often that it is sometimes difficult to tell what is a mutation and what is a manipulation. Elves also use a little bit of magic to achieve flight, similar to dragons.

Dwarves

Living underground, dwarves don’t have much use for flight. They do, however, have wings: great bat-like appendages with two grabby claws on the end of a five-fingered wing. Dwarves use their wings to traverse subterranean tunnels, swinging from stalactite to stalagmite, and particularly strong and skilled dwarves can climb along certain cave ceilings.

Their wings are covered in a light coat of hypersensitive bristles, which can sense tiny vibrations in rock or air, and also differentiate between types of rock in a single wall.

Many dwarves have bioluminescent patterns across their wings, which serve two uses: locating other dwarves across darkened caves, and identifying someone’s lineage, as specific clans have unique types of patterns, and families have patterns within those.

Urgals

Similar to the dwarves, Urgals have seven digits in their webbed wings—and that’s about where the similarities end. 

Being mostly forest and mountain dwellers, Urgal wings are surprisingly short. They do still manage to be extremely bulky, wrapped in enormous muscles, and the bones are heavy and solid. Many Urgal learn to fight as well with their wings as they do with their hands, using the heavy bone and muscle as a living cudgle, while the thick membrane between the digits can whack an enemy away. Many Urgal wings have subtle, simple patterns, usually resembling veins of ore or patches of lichen, which helpfully camouflage against rocks and trees.

For the Kull, wings are, just like the rest of them, larger than those of an average Urgal. Despite the short wingspan, Kull wings are broad and powerful enough to actually whip up a decent gale, which they use to push away, blind, and disorient their enemies or prey.

Regarding flight, no Urgal or Kull has ever achieved liftoff, or even a very graceful glide. They can, however—with practice—slow their fall if they manage to position themselves upright and have a lot of energy to spare for their wings, essentially slowing their fall through brute force against the air. 

Dragon Riders

For any race, being bonded with a dragon will have an impact on physiology. In addition to the enhanced abilities, heightened senses, pointed ears, and whatever else may be put into effect by the bond (I do have some theories if anyone wants to hear about them), wings will be dramatically changed, little by little over time.

First, color: over time, wings will begin to take on the color of the bonded dragon. For feathers, they will first take on an iridescent sheen, slowly heightening in opacity and brilliance to transform from a flash of color in the right light to full saturation of the quill. For dwarves, the bioluminescent patterns will gain new color first, while the bristles and skin will take on a darker shade of the same color; the bioluminescent patterns will also change, becoming more complex. Urgal coloration comes through in the pattern of their wings, creating some truly fantastic marbling effects.

Second, size and strength: though riding dragonback will always be preferred for long distance journeys, Riders eventually are able to fly alongside their dragons. Human wings grow large and strong enough to carry them, elves don’t usually have to wait that long, dwarves are simultaneously thrilled and terrified to discover they can accomplish a bat-like flight with their newly enormous wings, and Urgals… are bumblebees. And very pleased about it.

Third, sturdiness: as wings grow and strengthen, the muscles, bones, skin, and feathers where applicable become tougher and more resillient to extreme environments and concussive trauma. Human feathers become more like elf feathers, with a sturdier quill and sharper edges. Both Urgals and dwarves begin growing small claws at the tips of their wing digits; in dwarves, these are tiny, curved talons that are excellent at finding impossibly small imperfections in rock surfaces with which to cling to; in Urgals, these claws are longer, straighter, and heavier. 

–––––––

These are just my personal headcanons for this AU! If y’all have any more thoughts and ideas you’d like to add, please feel free to comment or reblog with your thoughts, or send me an ask! 

[chilling-seavey]

Mari bringing Lady home for the first time!!

↳  A/N Not sure if I expressed this idea in here how I wanted it to go but we are long overdue for a blurb and Daniel's not the only one that's super hungry!

↳ Word Count: 1864

↳ Seasons Change Masterlist

Monday, April 9, 2012

Marigold left to pick up their lunch order. She had simple instructions to take the truck and make the sixty second drive into the main intersection of Lincoln and pick up their pre-paid and ore-ordered lunch that would be waiting for them in the town restaurant. Daniel stayed back at their brand new farmhouse to keep organizing their plentiful boxes while she did so.

The only issue was, Marigold got distracted easily. By nice things, pretty things, things that needed appreciating…and especially kittens. What was she supposed to do when she stepped out of the pickup truck in the parking lot, only to see a small table set up with a box of a fresh litter of kittens inside. It was honestly a miracle Daniel couldn’t hear her “awwww” from across the tiny town and she hurried right over to the stand.

A man sat silently at the table where the cardboard box sat, a homemade sign in front of him reading ‘Kittens $50’.

“Good afternoon.” Marigold greeted him with a smile.

Although he was anything less than looking like the prime example of awake, her smile only seemed to bring one to his face too. She had that natural effect on people.

“Where’d you get these sweet little fur babies from?” Marigold asked him as she peered over the edge of the box to see the half dozen squirming little kittens.

“Our cat had a litter the other week and we can’t take care of ‘em.” the man answered.

“Oh, too bad.” Marigold cooed down to the box and stuck her hand right in the mix.

“Careful, they’re still wild things.” the man warned.

But Marigold wasn’t worried in the slightest and she pet a gentle hand over each little kitten; three white with cream toned patches, two deep brown, and one spotless caramel coloured one with a little white patch around its nose and down its chin. It was being a bit trampled by the other five kittens, simply trying to sleep in the corner of the box amidst the squeaks and whines of the others.

Marigold tucked the hair that was falling out of her ponytail behind her ears before reaching down with two gentle hands to lift up the little sleepy kitten, “Oh, hello, little one. Hello, you. Aren’t you so pretty, pretty, pretty!”

Her cooing had the man turning back to the empty road with a tired sigh.

The kitten, only about the size of both of Marigold’s hands together, welcomed her warm arms and cuddled up with her like a baby, stretching in the warm springtime sun.

“A girl?” Marigold asked.

The man nodded, bored. Bored from a long day in the quiet down with no sales of the cats he didn’t want.

Marigold gave the kitten a little scratch under her chin, swooning down at her, “Oh, I just need to take you home with me. I just need to.”

That’s how Marigold ended up with a kitten in the passenger seat of the pickup truck rather than their lunch, and $50 missing from her wallet. She didn’t feel phased in the slightest, far too eager to get home to show her fiancé their new family member.

Daniel was starving after a full morning of moving, making multiple trips from the city to bring all their things into their brand new farmhouse a good hour away. Boxes lined the hallway and the dining room and honestly a few still lingered on the porch but he worked diligently to put as much away as possible, trying to put together the dining room table so they would have somewhere to sit and eat their lunch at least. He was so hungry that the instruction manual didn’t seem to be making sense anymore and he sat with his legs spread on the hardwood floor with an abundance of screws, nails, wrenches and drills, planks of carved plywood, and far too many pieces than he knew what to do with. His stomach grumbled at simply the sound of the truck returning up the driveway.

Only seconds later, Marigold was rushing up the front porch steps and opening the door that desperately needed to be oiled, and she wiggled her way between the stacks of boxes into the entryway of the dining room. She was grinning and holding her hands behind her back, beaming down at her fiancé still sat in a mess of tools and dining room table pieces.

“Guess what I got?” Marigold asked.

“My cheeseburger.” Daniel held out his arms to her and flexed his fingers as if to ask her to give it here.

“Better.” she said eagerly.

She pulled around her hands from behind her back to show off the small caramel kitten in her grasp, holding it under its little arms.

Daniel’s hopeful face fell and his hands dropped to his thighs with a sigh, “What’s that? Please tell me they don’t eat cats in this town.”

“No, oh my gosh, no.” Marigold laughed, “There was a man selling kittens at the side of the road and I just had to get one for us.”

“Mari, we…” Daniel sighed deeply and carefully stood up without kicking any of the little bolts or screws that were littered around him. “Mari, we don’t have a place for animals yet.”

“We have four walls and a roof.” Marigold answered, holding the kitten up to pepper little kisses to the little furry cheek. “And she’s so cute…was such a little lady compared to all her brothers and sisters in that sad little box.”

“Sunshine.” Daniel huffed, setting his hands on his hips, “At least tell me you brought lunch home too.”

Marigold avoided answering the question by holding out the kitten to him again, “Hold her, Dani.”

“Mari.”

“Come on. She’s so soft.”

“Marigold, no, we can’t have a cat. Not right now. We aren’t fit to take care of anything-”

“Sure, we are. It’s like practice for all the babies we’re gonna have. Pretend I accidentally got pregnant and – oh, look – here’s our child.” she held out the cat to him again.

“At least if you actually gave birth, I would have the sense to pick up lunch for us.”

“Oh, stop being so whiny, my sweet.” Marigold tisked.

“I don’t even like cats.” Daniel grumbled.

Marigold stepped over a few of the pieces of wood and shoved the kitten in his arms, “Sure, you do.”

“Mari.” Daniel huffed in slight protest as she stepped back from him, leaving him holding the small kitten in his crossed arms. He looked awkward and the cat stared at her as if she was begging to be saved from the strange man she was given to, but Marigold only grinned.

“Look! We’re like a little family.” Marigold gushed.

“Couldn’t it have been puppies at least?” Daniel asked the ceiling of their dining room.

“You look so cute! I gotta get my camera!” Marigold shouted over him as she bounded out of the room again.

“Marigold, don’t leave me with this thing!” Daniel called after her pleadingly.

When there was no answer, he sighed and looked down at the sleepy kitten in his arms, staring back at him with light green eyes. Neither of them made a move – Daniel was more scared of dropping the cat or being bitten – and he stood in the middle of the dining room at this cat that he was sure was glaring at him.

“I’m not your biggest fan either.” Daniel grumbled down to it.

The kitten wiggled in his arms and Daniel nervously moved to wrap one large hand around its tiny little body to keep her from falling. He lifted her up and gave her a good stare down before tucking her back in the crook of his arm for the sake of his soon-to-be-wife.

Marigold returned in a hurry with her camera and she lined up in the doorway to snap a few pictures of very unimpressed Daniel and the cat that seemed to mirror his expression. She looked down to the camera and flicked through thee few pictures, “How adorable. She looks so regal sitting there with you.”

Defeated and obviously not winning, Daniel spoke, “What are you gonna name her then, sunshine?”

“I dunno.” Marigold thought for a moment before stepping back over the pieces of unbuilt table to her fiancé’s side. She gave the kitten a little scratch under her chin and the cat let her eyes closed and raised her tiny head up slightly. “Maybe, Lady.”

“Suits her.” Daniel mumbled, staring down at the two of them.

“Lady Cuthbert.” Marigold said in a posh British accent before scooping her kitten from Daniel’s arms.

“Wow, you trade my lunch for her and she doesn’t even get my last name.” Daniel tisked.

“No way is she becoming a Seavey before I do.” Marigold argued matter-of-factly, tucking the kitten close to her chest. “I’ve been waiting longer and she just got here.”

“It’s a competition now?”

Marigold giggled sweetly and draped her free arm around his shoulders, “So what if it is? Do I win?”

“Apparently you always win.” Daniel sighed.

“I do.” Marigold grinned, pulling his lips to hers for a quick kiss, “I did get the most incredible man in the whole entire world after all.”

“Not if I die of starvation. Putting my life on the line for that stupid cat.”

Marigold gasped and covered the kitten’s ears with her hand, “That’s so mean. This is why she’s not a Seavey.”

“You’re not a Seavey either and if you boss me around maybe you won’t ever be.” Daniel warned playfully.

Marigold pouted and raised the kitten’s cheek to hers, “You are so mean when you’re hungry. How could you insult the two cutest women in your life like this? All we do is bring you constant joy and love and companionship and this is how you repay us?”

Daniel, although knowing she was playing along with his banter, still pulled her close by an arm around her waist, “I’d make you a Seavey today if I could.”

Marigold smiled bashfully and he leaned in for a soft lingering kiss. Before he even had his fix of her lips, she was pulling back from him and setting a hand on his chest.

“You better not be distracting me with your sweettalk. We’re keeping Lady. She has a name. She’s attached to us now.”

“I know.” Daniel sighed. “No one can ever sway you when you make up your mind about something.”

The two of them shared a few more quick kisses in the dining room of their box filled house. In worn out jeans and slightly-too-big t-shirts, they were still just as in love as ever, even when Daniel’s stomach growled loud enough to interrupt their kiss. He sighed as she laughed.

“I gotta go get our food you forgot.” Daniel grumbled.

“Kisses for little lady.” Marigold held up the kitten between them before she would let him pass.

He raised an eyebrow at her before leaning in and pressing a kiss to the top of the kitten’s head. He got a little squeaky pleased meow in return.

Seasons Change Taglist: @stuffofseaveyy @randomlimelightxxx @jonahlovescoffee @hiya-its-amber @hopinglimelight @onlyangelavery @sbrewer21 @bessonsbxtch @viamiasoncrack @the-girl-who-cried-wolf @21burritoseavey @queenseavey23 @xkelsev

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[beautytreats]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 25x Inkadinkado Stamp Gear Clear Wood Stamps Stencils Transfers Lot DIY Crafts.

[notveryglittery]

far (1.2)

summary: everything’s just right. until it isn’t. wc: 2k / ships: romantic royality, platonic anxceit warnings: injuries, fighting, zombies, typical minecraft danger author‘s note: i really can’t be stopped, huh? thank you so much to @blinksinbewilderment for beta’ing this for me! this ends the first part of the au but i have so many more ideas :) enjoy! 

mice on venus (1.1) | far (1.2) (you are here) title inspo: (spotify link) (youtube link) ao3 line (to edit later)

— — —

Roman wakes up late and is devastated to find out that Janus and Virgil left just before sunrise. No one will tell him why they left or what they were going out looking for and it just makes his mood even worse. It doesn’t help that he’s put on official bed rest; Logan is actually posted outside of his door to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. Roman picks slowly at the breakfast Patton had brought up to him: it’s eggs, bacon, hash browns, and apple juice which are a lot of his favorite foods but they just don’t taste right. The whole day feels off and he’s not even halfway into it.

Eventually, the scrape of a chair breaks through the monotony of his morning and he looks up, curious. Patton bursts through the door, barely carrying a jukebox.

“Dearest, you’re going to hurt yourself!” Roman exclaims, trying to get up and help.

“Nuh uh,” Patton tuts, “stay put.”

Roman begrudgingly settles back into bed as Patton manages to set the jukebox down on Roman’s desk by the window. Roman would recognize that disc anywhere and his face lights up as the first notes of Far begin to play. Patton beams back at him before hurrying out of the room again. Roman closes his eyes and leans back, letting the whimsical sounds wash over him.

When Patton returns, it’s again by carrying something heavy up the stairs by himself, and Roman’s worry spikes. This time, Patton drops the load unceremoniously on the floor and it clangs noisily. The sunlight glints off of it and Roman realizes it’s his shield, in obvious need of redecorating.

“Who fixed it?” He asks, wondering how in the world it got done so quickly.

“Janus found a bunch of iron ore in that ravine and Virgil made sure to put it in the blast furnace to smelt overnight!” Patton explains, dripping a tiny bit of what looks like Slow Falling onto it. It is just as heavy to lift but once he has, he gives it a careful toss towards Roman, who catches it as it floats gently down to him. “I asked the armorer how long it would take to repair. He said no time at all as long as I brought back some berry shortbread when I came to pick it up!”

“Patton,” Roman says very seriously. “Did you make berry shortbread?”

Patton giggles. “Yes, honey, and don’t worry, I made enough for dessert tonight.”

“Come here!” Roman shouts which just makes Patton laugh harder.

As soon as Patton is in arm’s reach, Roman pulls him in and down for a kiss. It’s sweet and brief because Patton can’t stop smiling.

“I love you,” he mumbles, brushing his lips across Roman’s cheek as he stands back up.

“I love you!” Roman declares. “It’s been so long since I repainted this!” He tilts the shield in his lap so he can get a better look at it. “I’m making sure there’s a spot dedicated to you this time!”

Patton blushes and busies himself with retrieving Roman’s art supplies from his storage. “You don’t have to do that…”

“Don’t have to,” Roman agrees, “I want to!”

Patton sighs fondly as he helps to get Roman set up with a sturdy place to work. He’s meant to keep his leg elevated which makes this all very awkward but they do eventually sort it out. As soon as he’s comfortable, Roman is mixing colors to get just the right shade. He starts with broad strokes to get a base down; at least, that’s what Patton assumes. Far still plays happily from the jukebox and everything is just right.

— — —

Everything is not just right and Virgil is pretty fucking sure they are going to die.

“What did you do!” He screeches over the sound of what must be at least twenty zombies bearing down on them.

“Might’ve lingered too long ‘round a spawner,” Janus grunts as he swings his axe into a zombie’s chest.

Virgil answers with a wordless, frustrated scream, plunging his daggers into a zombie’s face probably more times than is necessary. He loses track of how many mobs they kill (because of course a handful of skeletons and creepers join the fray). Eventually though, they do get enough distance between them and the monsters that they can block the path and take some time to breathe.

“Was there even any good loot?” Virgil asks.

Janus tosses his pack onto the ground between them. Virgil goes through it and finds cocoa beans (which is the main reason they’re exploring, so that’s nice), two golden apples (holy shit), and a name tag (as if they don’t have enough of those already). He runs a hand through his hair which is a huge mistake, actually, because they are still grimy with blood. He takes a few moments to clean himself off as best he can. In the time it takes him to do so, Janus has leant against the wall and fallen half-asleep.

“Let’s stay awhile,” Virgil suggests, because if he makes it sound like he’s the one that wants to rest, Janus is less likely to take offense. “That fight took a lot out of me.”

Janus blinks at him, slowly. “Whenever you’re ready, then.”

He dozes off so quickly, Virgil would dare to think that Janus actually trusts him with his safety. They’ve come a long way, he supposes; from Janus nearly stranding them in the Nether to Virgil being the one he usually invites along for scouting.

Virgil has long since accepted that they’re cut from the same cloth: homes in dangerous places and suspicious of new faces; the type to stab first, ask questions second; someone who will defend the things and people they love until their dying breath. Virgil remembers how terrified he had been when he and Roman leapt into the portal after Janus. He remembers watching it shatter behind them, remembers praying for Logan and Patton’s safety, remembers begging Roman to be careful, please, I can’t lose you again—

Virgil shakes his head. He wipes stubbornly at the tears gathering in his eyes and curses his brain for reminding him of these stupid memories in such sharp detail. He focuses instead on his breathing and keeping watch while Janus naps. They’re at least a day’s journey from home now; they’d gone caving at sunset to avoid the monsters above ground. The plan is to try and find new land but with only three days to do so, Virgil doubts they’ll be so lucky. He doesn’t want to go too far and risk missing Roman’s first day back on his feet. He’s absolutely going to go too hard and Virgil really wants to be there to see it. He stifles a laugh at the image but the muffled noise still wakes Janus up. He stretches, groaning as a few bones click in the process.

“Feeling better?”

Virgil just barely resists rolling his eyes. It’s strangely endearing that Janus thinks Virgil doesn’t see right through him. “Yeah, I’m good to go. Should be sunrise by the time we get back to the surface.”

They follow their torch path out and sure enough, sunlight shines through the cave entrance as they approach. They pick up where they left off, Janus marking his map along the way. The day is hot, regardless of their travel through a birch forest and taking advantage of all the shade. For Janus, it’s nothing compared to the heat of the Nether, but Virgil has to shed his layers which leaves him feeling vulnerable.

The only interesting thing to happen during this part of their trek is finding a new village. They gain favor with the inhabitants when they patch up the cracking iron golem. They make some trades, replenishing their food supply in exchange for ore and coal; it helps lighten their loads which should keep their energy from waning too quickly later on. The villagers have extra beds so Janus and Virgil stay there for the night.

Day three begins bright and early with Virgil insisting they start heading home. Janus agrees more readily than he expects but maybe he, too, doesn’t expect them to find much in what little time they have left. It’s easy going on the way back, since they’re familiar now with the land. Virgil wishes he could explain why they make the dangerous choice to continue traveling through the night. He wishes he could figure out how they both make such a stupid decision.

Janus is hot on his heels, breaths coming in ragged gasps. Virgil is barely pushing through the pain in his calves. They had been holding their own, quickly taking care of any mobs that came too close. It had been fine until, of course, Virgil accidentally looked at an enderman. The screeching had filled the night air, scaring Virgil right out of his skin.

“Sorry!” He had shouted, as if apologizing to the creature would do any good.

Janus grabbed his wrist, pulling him deeper into the woods. “Too many monsters,” he had explained.

They’d been running ever since. Virgil’s lost track of how long but he can’t hear the enderman anymore so he can only hope they’re in the clear. Thankfully, they’re officially close enough to home that he begins to recognize various landmarks: one tree with blue ribbon tied around the trunk, a pitfall trap just outside their torch grid, and finally —

Virgil slows enough that Janus darts around him and nearly breaks the gate from how quickly he slams into it.

“I hate nighttime,” he snarls, “at least I could trust the Nether to always be dangerous!”

Virgil wants to laugh but he can barely breathe. He follows, closing the gate behind him.

“Hey,” he says, trailing Janus to the house. “Hey, we kind of got what we were looking for.”

“I’m so glad we almost died for some cocoa beans.”

“We would’ve been fine!”

Janus levels him with a glare that would shut anyone else up. Virgil, because he is insufferable, keeps going. “Besides, you’re gonna see Patton smile and it’ll all be worth it.”

Janus almost trips, over absolutely nothing. “Shut up!” He hisses, turning away so that Virgil can’t see his face. His absolutely-no-doubt-about-it blushing face.

Virgil does so this time but only because they’re at the front door now. They enter quietly, well aware that it’s the middle of the night, and not wanting to wake their companions. Someone comes thundering down the stairs anyway. Virgil moves away from Janus because he knows exactly who would make that much noise and—

Sure enough, Patton appears and throws himself at Janus. The latter’s face goes bright red and Virgil smirks at him.

“You’re home!” Patton exclaims, pulling back and hugging Virgil next. Janus busies himself with his pack. “We were so worried!”

“Aren’t you always?” Virgil asks.

“‘S night,” grumbles Logan from the stairs. Virgil’s heart skips when he looks to find his partner rubbing at his eyes, hair messy from sleep. “Why’re you travelin’ at night?”

Virgil drops his stuff and scoops Logan into his arms. “Didn’t wanna be away from you anymore.”

“Shhhh,” Logan pats Virgil’s cheeks, “shh, too tired for that.”

“To bed, then,” Virgil proposes. He waves at Patton and Janus before helping Logan back upstairs and to their room.

Patton hovers a bit as Janus puts away everything he and Virgil had not only taken with them but the things they had found too.

“Did everything go okay?” Patton asks eventually.

“As okay as usual.”

“Find anything neat?”

Janus hesitates before he turns and presents the pouch of cocoa beans. Virgil’s voice rings I told you so in his head but he can’t even be mad because, without a doubt, Patton’s smile has in fact made every trouble well worth it.

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

After The Dawn

Hello, hello! I am indeed still around, and sometimes even do non-work-related stuff. About, oh, 2 years ago, this got sent in as a prompt, so have a little 4 times + 1 thing, for the occasion of me processing my recent DS9 comfort-rewatch (by which I of course mean “mostly spending a lot of time gazing adoringly at Kira Nerys and crying”). As far as I recall, I’ve never actually posted anything from my giant decade plus WIP pile of Trek stuff, so this is a first - I hope it doesn’t disappoint.

The prompt was “five different sunlights”. So here are five snapshots of Kira Nerys from joining the resistance to DS9 and beyond, ~4400 words. Veers into Kira/Jadzia because I’m hilariously predictable. Also includes brief appearances by (in order): Lupaza, Furel, Shakaar, Damar, Garak, Kaksidy, and Jake. Mentions of several others.

Contains discussion of the occupation of Bajor and canon character deaths, but nothing explicit I can think of to warn about.

---

After The Dawn

1. 2356

The raid was long over but her fingers still shook – cold, always because of the cold, never from fear. Every so often they would twitch more decisively, as if recalling the sensation of the phaser rifle she was just barely big enough to hold jerking to life in her grip. But then they’d travel to her right ear of their own accord, tracing the lines of her new earring. A proper d’ja pagh all of her own, with the symbol of the Kira family emblazoned in the metal – echoing the beautiful engraving she’d always admired on her father’s. 

Lupaza had worked through the night to make it for her, by the feeble light of one of their few still-working heaters, with skill that seemed otherworldly to Kira (who, though by far the youngest among them, knew better than to ask about anyone’s life before joining a resistance cell). Lupaza, who had looked at the scrawny thirteen-year-old hanging around their camp, and who’d chosen to believe in her, and speak up for her. Who’d presented her handiwork to ‘their newest member’ at sunrise, during the change of guard at the mouth of their current cavern hideout, letting the winter light glimmer on its silvery surface for all to see. And Kira had beamed at her, not caring about who’d been around to witness it or how young it may have made her look. 

I’m in the Resistance, she wanted to shout over and over again until the reality truly set in, flooded and near-overwhelmed by the newfound sense of belonging and pride and brightly burning defiance mixing in her chest.

Again and again her fingers went – over the cuff hugging the shell of her ear snugly, down the single deceptively delicate chain, to the simple but beautiful main piece. She could almost believe it was still warm to the touch, heated by the orange-glow burn of Bajor’s atmosphere on Cardassian hull metal – made from stolen Bajoran ore, mined with stolen Bajoran labour. It was only right and just that it be returned this way. The rest of the beritium hull salvage they’d stripped from the ship would be used for lining the walls of their hideout, shielding them from sensor sweeps and the bite of the winter cold alike. But this small bit of it was a shield all Kira’s own.

It was a comforting presence, a slight but grounding weight with a depth of meaning that its size belied. Lupaza smiled at her fascination and distraction every time she happened to pass by, promising she’d get used to it. Furel agreed, for once without a trace of a joke in his voice, and slapped a hand on her bony shoulder with a gruff: “You’ve more than earned it, kid.” 

Shakaar himself, in between whatever it was his leaderly duties entailed, took a moment to consider her. “It suits you,” was all he said on the matter, though if he meant the earring or the phaser Kira had for the first time stuck in her own belt instead of giving it back after cleaning was anyone’s guess. Then, turning to leave, he added, “Good job out there.”

There was something like sadness behind all of their eyes. Kira chose not to see it, or dwell on it.

She was in the Resistance.

She didn't even know if any of her (many) shots during the ambush had found their mark, but it didn't seem to matter. She could, she would help protect her father and his little garden, scrounged up, cobbled together, but growing. Protect her remaining brother, for the one she had failed to. She would honour her mother, the bravest woman I've ever known, Nerys. She saved us all, at great cost to herself.

Whenever her fingers floated back down and twitched for want of a rifle trigger again, she told herself to be patient. There would be more work for her, more chances to be useful, more chances to prove herself. No more sitting idly by, and no more fear.

-

2. 2369

Even after weeks on the station Kira had yet to manage to sleep through an entire night, but she sincerely doubted it was the bed's fault. Sure, the Cardassian-designed beds in the Cardassian-designed quarters on the Cardassian-designed station left much to be desired, but they certainly beat the ground of a half-frozen cave. And yet here she was, with endless damn bunking arrangements as one of the most frequently brought-up complaints among the crew body. Why and how those PADDs always seemed to end up on her desk was anyone's guess. She'd been prepared for a more administrative role, yes, but…

“The time is oh-six-hundred hours,” the computer helpfully informed her.

Kira huffed, and tossed aside another PADD with a blinking Request denied, then shrugged on her uniform jacket and made to leave her quarters for a quick breakfast.

It was still an odd thought that took getting used to: her quarters – hers alone; a viewport in the bulkhead, allowing her to see the stars and, when the rotation was right, Bajor’s own familiar sun from a very new perspective. Regular meals thanks to Federation engineers patching up Cardassian replicators and whipping them into shape. Shops and eateries opening on the Promenade. The ruinous mess the Cardassians left behind them slowly coming together again into something functional. Kira permitted herself a wry twist of the mouth at the thought – hopefully the planet the station had formerly orbited could manage to do the same.

The discovery of the wormhole brought fascinating, colourful crowds to the station so quickly and in such volumes, she didn't envy Odo at all. Even the small segment of the Promenade she saw on her way from her quarters to the replimat was enough to reinforce, every morning, that this was no longer Terok Nor: grey in every way imaginable, filled with throngs of terrified, beaten-down Bajoran workers and their Cardassian overseers, delighting in the former’s disposability.

The small but lively, chattering crowd in the replimat seemed to underscore all of her thoughts – no more waiting in line for gruel with the exhausted shift that had just left ore processing.

“Good morning!”

Instead, a friendly Federation face. The pattern of spots that ran down the sides of Lieutenant Dax’s face and down her neck was fascinating to Kira still – not Bajoran, and certainly not the grey, flared bony Cardassian necks that had made up most of Kira's world up until not so very long ago. She had to stop herself from staring often, even though, judging by that smirk, the Lieutenant did not seem to mind. She appeared to relish attention in general, of all kinds. Kira ducked her head, and tried to focus on the replicator instead.

“Something wrong? Quark interfering with the menus again?” Dax was right behind her, peeking over her shoulder, eyebrow raised, and smiling. Somehow she always seemed to be doing that.

“Oh, no, nothing like that, thankfully. Still not quite used to this, is all.” She shuffled her feet and made no real move to complete an order.

“Hm. Well, if I may, Major, I’d recommend the raktajino for early morning starts like this.”

“Raktajino?” Kira repeated oafishly, biting back the Early!? her mind had immediately supplied.

“Klingon coffee. Try it – I think you’ll like it.”

Kira was sceptical, but Dax seemed to be very sincere – so after a few button presses she found herself holding a large mug of something hot, dark, and quite thick. She wrinkled her nose and took a sip.

“It’s, uh… strong.”

“Hits the spot, right?”

The crooked, almost sly smile on the Lieutenant’s face was contagious. Kira didn’t even feel like bringing up growing up under an occupation-enforced famine as an excuse for her own lack of a developed or sophisticated palate or culinary taste in general.

The drink did have a real kick to it, and Kira took another sip. “Yeah, it does.”

“Just don’t go overboard with them – let me tell you, I made some grave mistakes there right after I became a host. Curzon,” Dax smirked, shaking her head, then waved at the table they’d found themselves next to. “Mind if I join you?”

Kira thought about it, but only for a moment.

“Not at all, Lieutenant.”

And ah, there it was then, as soon as they sat down: the small, incessant, bitter sting of you knew what they were doing to us and you sat by and did nothing that insisted on making itself known at very inopportune times. It was, however, becoming more bearable by the day and with every individual met, every new reassurance that they were here now, despite everything, to make a good start. Together.

When the Cardassians came they were helpful and charming too, nagged the little voice at the back of her mind. But this couldn’t be like that, and just looking at Dax was enough to… well, perhaps Kira was being a naive fool, but there seemed to be ground to build here, and she found herself willing to try. And after all, she knew she herself was ready to do anything, to lay her life down for Bajor. She just needed to be pointed the right way – or, rather, she needed to be able to point herself the right way. Now that knowing who the enemy was and who the enemy could turn out to be had gotten more complicated. Still, if nothing else: she wouldn’t let it be a repeat of anything, and she was prepared to be a thorn in anyone’s side, Federation or provisional government or otherwise, for as long as was necessary. 

“You seem to be mulling over something grim already. Everything alright?”

The concern was genuine enough, but Kira had no idea how to even begin to explain all of it, even if she’d wanted to.

“Just thinking about some complaints about quarters I need to handle,” she lied smoothly – or what she hoped was smooth, anyway.

Dax caught on, and backed off. Lifetimes of experience to thank – or perhaps Kira was just that easy to read. A transcript of Trakor’s annotated ninth prophecy just waiting on a lectern, as Lupaza would say. 

“Sure. Let me know if I can help.”

“With station admin? Aren’t you a science officer?”

“Absolutely. But it's in all our best interests to get this place running as smoothly as possible as fast as possible, right?”

Kira narrowed her eyes at her, entirely unconvinced. “Right.”

“Fine,” Dax threw her hands up in the air in a very silly, exaggerated gesture, “I admit it, I’m after juicy gossip. There’s bound to be quarter reassignment requests in there! What could be juicier?”

Kira couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, then. “You are ridiculous.”

Dax grinned right back. “Glad to be of help. Let’s get to Ops, you can tell me all about it on the way.”

When Kira got to her feet, both she herself and the entire day – if it could truly be called that on a space station – felt somehow lighter already.

-

3. 2372

It was swelteringly hot under the sun of some new, as of yet unnamed planet, in the midst of a survey mission that had already gone on longer than scheduled. Hardly Kira’s idea of a good – or productive – time. 

The place was an unpleasant dustbowl broken up by stray glass-encrusted rock here and there, and Kira was surrounded by a bunch of bustling, tricorder-armed Starfleet explorer types she would have sneered at, not so long ago – but many of whom she’d now consider fast friends. She’d hardly consider herself an ideal choice for helming this particular mission, but Sisko had been insistent, and so here she was. It would appear that, if nothing else, it gave her time to indulge in reverie – a truly rare occurrence.

The unfamiliar stars of the Gamma Quadrant, unimaginably far from everything she’d ever known, could now be reached within seconds, thanks to the wormhole – more proof of how the Prophets kept looking out for Bajor in sometimes quite unexpected ways. And Kira, as Bajor’s official representative on the mission, was determined to do her best to facilitate and build upon their efforts.

“Take a look at this, Major!” It was Dax calling her over, her tricorder beeping over some bizarre green-magenta form of plant life she found beneath a rocky outcrop a little off the not-so-alien dirt path Kira was stomping down. 

“What've you got for me, Lieutenant?”

“Some kind of elaborate root system stretches on for more than a kilometer underground, running beneath the very acidic soil, with an impressive – and perfectly symmetrical – array of large tubers.”

Kira shot the sensor readings a look. “Huh, could’ve fed a whole resistance cell for an entire winter on nothing but a few of those.”

She frowned as soon as the words left her mouth – Jadzia Dax, decorated Starfleet science officer and dedicated, studious initiate who’d earned the approval of the strict Trill Symbiosis Commission, certainly hadn’t had such prosaic, practical implications of her findings in mind. For a very, very brief moment, Kira felt a sting of embarrassment – but then her mind snapped decisively back into its standard guarded, resolute position: she had nothing to be embarrassed about.

Dax, as had somehow become a somewhat frustrating habit of hers, seemed to be able to encompass Kira’s entire internal dialogue with a glance. But somehow she did it… gently, without making Kira feel small or inadequate in any way. No smug Starfleet superiority here, even with all the accumulated bragging rights of all the lifetimes under her belt. And – perhaps most importantly – no trace of pity to be found. Instead, a wellspring of enthusiasm.

“Their composition is interesting, I agree. Starchy, and rich in several key proteins – this has potential for significant contributions to agriculture. I bet Keiko will love to get her hands on this – see what she can set up in one of the hydroponics bays.”

Her smile was as bright as the orange-tinted light of the unfamiliar sun, but Kira took up the challenge of matching it.

Jadzia leaned in, almost conspiratorially, “Help me catalogue it?”

“I, uh, don’t really know what the procedure–”

“No worries, I’ll walk you right through it. It’s fun!” Kira’s scepticism must have been written all over her face. “I swear it is! I’m not just saying that, you’ll see.”

“Not to mention,” Jadzia winked, “it’ll get us under some nice shade and right next to a cooling unit.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“And you love it.”

Kira couldn’t disagree.

-

4. 2375

The weak, grey light of Cardassia Prime’s sun filtered through the slits in the cellar windows – if they could even be called that.

Another very literally bleak dawn. No contact with the Federation. No hope of reinforcements, or extraction, or help of any kind. Negligible chances of news from Deep Space 9, of the fleet, of Odo’s health, of anything at all. And here, far behind enemy lines, Kira and her unlikely comrades presumed dead, their network of allies and carefully-hidden carefully-built-up resources destroyed, all three (three) survivors hidden away in the capital of a people she’d once have termed her worst enemies, relying on the goodwill of an old woman.

Kira, a veteran of hopeless causes, had been in worse spots – but not many.

Whatever Damar’s less… pleasant compatriots had thought, she found no joy in any of it. Not even a flutter of satisfaction at all the irony the situation was positively dripping with. It was enough that it meant that twice now she’d been witness to oppression and destruction on an immense scale – civilisation-ending, one might term it. It was wearing, and wearying, no matter who it happened to.

Would she have cheered for the destruction of Cardassia as little as a handful of years ago? Perhaps, if it would have meant Bajor being left alone. The moral quandary aspect certainly wasn’t something she wanted to be thinking about at the moment.

While the others seemed to still be asleep, Kira lay on her back on one of the thin blankets Mila had provided them, and thumbed almost idly through a list of signals intercepted nearby, identifying potential sabotage targets. There were still things three people with extremely limited resources could do to make themselves useful - or disruptive, depending on your perspective. 

Two Jem’Hadar barracks complexes (a hatchery would be better, and far less dangerous). A comms central (they might not have the proper tools available to make it truly worth the risk). Long-term storage warehouses (they needed to maximise short-term effects on the Dominion occupiers, not minimise the chances of Cardassia’s eventual recovery). Weapons manufacturing plants (tempting security gaps during shift changes, but still far too well-guarded for the three of them to take on alone). A power distribution junction (...remote, potentially high-impact, and definitely worth looking into). Kira made a note to ask Garak for any further details he could muster about it.

She should have, perhaps, been saving her strength, getting what rest she could while she could. Restless, that was what she was, even with all her experience and her awareness that so, so much of a resistance fight was simply spent waiting, biding time. With another brief glance around the murky room, she gave up even the pretense of repose, and got up to stretch her legs and pace out her nerves.

Garak was asleep in his corner, or at least pretending to be. Whatever suited his purposes best.

“Commander,” came a low murmur from the other side of the room: Damar, sitting up on his own improvised bed, very much awake. The Starfleet rank still sounded strange to her, but Kira could appreciate the way Damar made sure to respect it from the start, and never allowed himself a slip. “There’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about. If you have a moment.”

“Somehow I have both far too much and far too little time these days. What is it?” She asked quietly, stepping closer, though the chances of Garak actually sleeping through whatever their conversation was going to be were negligibly low – as were the chances of him ‘waking up’ before they were done.

“I know it might not make much difference. And I do not ask for your forgiveness, or understanding. But I wanted – no, needed to tell you this. I'm sorry – for what I did to Ziyal.”

Her mood miraculously sank even lower. “For murdering her, you mean,” Kira didn’t even try to hold back the bite, nor had she ever been one for softening any blows.

Damar’s lips twisted. “You are right to call it what it was. Hiding from the truth won’t accomplish anything anymore. I killed her, and I deeply regret it.”

Kira said nothing, and Damar continued. “I’m not asking you for anything, believe me. But I hope… she can become a herald, of sorts. Her presence can live on in our alliance, a spirit of cooperation, and a new dawn for both our peoples.”

It was hardly the first time Damar made her think there could be a future for Cardassia after everything, one of reinvention and coexistence. Even Kira, with her underdeveloped imagination (Jadzia's efforts notwithstanding – ah, there was the stab of that hastily half-handled grief), could let herself imagine it.

Kira nodded, and pursed her mouth. Forgiveness wasn’t something she felt was hers to give, even if she wanted to. Maybe it wasn’t anyone’s.

“Nice speech, Damar,” she said, flatly. Ground out, almost. “It’ll be good for you, to’ve had the practice.” Then, after a moment of consideration of what she was prepared to give: “I hope I'll get to hear you make more of those someday soon. And I hope Cardassia will get to hear them, too.”

It only took another tragically small circle paced before the weight in the room became unbearable. Kira decided to make for their somewhat improvised refresher and what little privacy could be scrounged up – and caught Garak watching her, lying motionless but as alert as ever.

She silently met his eyes, then turned away.

-

5. 2376

The first day of her long-awaited leave dawned beautiful and clear. It seemed a small thing, to be sure – but perhaps the Prophets, prompted by their Emissary, had had a hand in making it so. No matter the reason, the sun shone on a Bajor that was growing prosperous and whole in ways Kira had feared it wouldn’t ever be again. 

The document that had just brought peace to two quadrants of the galaxy was called the Treaty of Bajor. There was talk, increasingly common and growing louder, of reactivating Bajor's suspended Federation membership application, and Kira had been made aware of the validity of her Starfleet field commission and the implications on her future career. The Vedek Assembly would be announcing their choice of the new Kai within the week. The soil beneath her feet was healthy, fertile, fully reclamated and ready for planting. There were now schoolchildren on Bajor who had never lived under the occupation. 

And there was Kira, who had helped liberate it, and hadn’t lived on it since.

This was the first time she’d returned to her home planet after the formal end of hostilities with the Dominion, and all that that had entailed. The light of B’hava’el was strong but not harsh – the same sun Kira had spent most of her life under, but that had never hit her more differently than it felt now. B’hava’el, that she had now seen from so much closer and so much further away – had, in a horrifying, memorable incident, helped prevent the destruction of, even. Her! Not just scrappy little Nerys from the Shakaar resistance cell anymore, small enough to slip through narrow passages in the labyrinthine caves of the Dahkur province and gaps in the Cardassian sensor nets alike.

She was Colonel Kira Nerys, commander of Deep Space 9, and, as a dear lost friend had made sure she was aware a while ago, a public figure in her own right. Ah– her own importance was something she would need to confront some other time, perhaps, right after she somehow went head to head with her grief. Ezri had been dropping some suggestions, in her capacity as a counselor, for all of the senior staff and beyond. It would be foolish not to consider her recommendations, both as the commanding officer and as a friend.  

Kira was well aware she had lost so much and so many. And she could sit down and catalogue the losses on a PADD, like freighter cargo inventory, but what for? She had gained, too, and lost again, and gained yet more. Like waves and eddies, pulling along a lightship on its way through the stars.

“Prophets help me if I try being a poet, too,” Kira mumbled to herself. Maybe she would take up writing tortured metaphors about the Prophets watching over and guiding ancient Bajoran star sailors on their journey all the way to Cardassia, for better or worse. 

A stray breeze toyed with the chain of her earring, carrying the scent of ripening moba fruit, and as she crested the hill, the outline of a house well under construction came into view.

“I'm sorry, what was that?” Kasidy asked from just behind her, Jake right at her side, holding her arm.

“Just thinking aloud. Nothing important. Anyway… where did you want to start?”

Her two companions caught up to her quickly enough. The gasps of surprised joy at the sight of all the progress that had been made on the house were by themselves more than worth the trip planetside.

“Well,” Kasidy began, “we have all the plumbing specifications and details all worked out thanks to the local architect you recommended – thanks again, by the way. I think… the kitchen should be first.”

It was an obvious tribute. A longing and anticipation there, too. Kira's heart ached just a bit stronger then, for a beat or two. She nodded, scrolling down a PADD loaded with floor plans and interior concepts. “I know some people who can help with that, too. Ceramics and pottery artisans, and a few others. I’ve got some favours to call in.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Kasidy started, but didn’t get too far.

“Yes I do, Kas. We’re going to see this through, and we’re going to see it done properly.”

“Only the best for the Emissary?” Jake asked, pointedly. There wasn’t bitterness there, though Kira would have understood it, and perhaps expected it, from a young man longing for the return of his father. 

“For a dear friend and his family,” Kira corrected. “But – yes, I’m sure they’ll be happy and honoured to contribute. Now, Julian and Ezri will be down with the next transport, just in time to meet us for dinner in the village. We have a few hours to handle things here, check on the progress so far, make notes – any complaints or requests you might have. Remember, I’m here to make sure they listen to you.”

They started down the path into the almost startlingly green valley, Kira catching herself marvelling along the way at the visibility of all the growth and healing made possible by the hard, dedicated work of so many. Who knew what could be in store for an old civilisation of artists, architects, and philosophers, forced to reinvent itself, and the sometimes tenuous connections to vast stretches of heritage that Kira herself had grasped at in various ways for most of her life, born into struggle and desperate, determined rebellion, like so many others. 

Well. Nothing to stop her from trying her hand at poetry, after all.

She felt her lips twist wryly at the private joke – she knew her place and her strengths. And she thought she could say she knew herself, too – precious knowledge, by any accounting. She knew there'd be no rest for her, not really, as long as there was something to be done for Bajor, and for her station, and for her unlikely family, wherever they might end up, scattered among and beyond the stars.

But Kira allowed herself a moment, gazing up in what she imagined might be the direction of the wormhole’s entrance.