game: literally takes us a whooole different, more advanced part of the game world;
a g*mer Warden groupie: tHeRe aReN't EnOuGh ReCoGnIsEaBlE eLeMeNtS tHeRe; It DoEsN't LoOk LiKe DrAgOn AgE;
me looking at distinctively dwarven influenced architecture of the city which has super close ties to dwarves, pride demons, magic mirrors, fucking wolf statues staring me right into the face in (once again) distinctively looking elven ruins: yeah buddy. it really is unrecogniseable.
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just realized that izzy literally died with the scar of his suicide attempt still fresh and pink and barely healed. insert symbolism. im gonna uh. just give me a moment i just need to (screams into a pillow)
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Wip Wednesday. Some Glass Harp and The Usual Sort of Idiocy, since I've been working on them most lately.
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Etudes: Glass Harp, B'st/Resh'an
This. This whole thing was supposed to be a drabble, why is it over 3k words. (I know why, it's because both of these assholes are wordy motherfuckers but- still.)
Where's that "I am going to write a fanfic that is so irrelevant to anyone's interests" meme again. I'm making physics textbook jokes.
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“I can understand the wheel- it's a sensible shape for maintaining balance. But- the crab and the slug seem less…” Resh'an paused in his note taking. “Hm. Efficient?”
“If I were interested in efficiency, wouldn't the sphere be the optimal shape?” B'st took the form of a many-limbed kraken, sprawled across the floor of Resh'an's laboratory. One tentacle curled around the legs of Resh'an's chair and began tugging him closer.
“It would.” Resh'an lifted his feet to rest them on the crossbar between the chair legs, and allowed himself to be pulled. “I have a treatise on natural mathematics in here somewhere- I could rewrite all of the examples. ‘Imagine a perfectly spherical songster, falling towards the ground from a height of ten meters.’”
“I could land quite an elbow drop from ten meters,” B'st sounded thoughtful. More tentacles wound around the legs of the chair. “But that would make a poor example for your treatise, I think."
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The Usual Sort of Idiocy; Oltyx/Yenekh, some OC on OC action and also Parreg/Erraph now I guess??? Why am I like this. I was fact checking one thing in Ruin and then this happened.
I think that's probably just a working title, really, but it still entertains me.
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Now that he was looking for it, Oltyx couldn't help but see the way so many of the kindred were now exchanging tokens over their feast. Perhaps they were led by Mesekhet's example, and this was something new. Or perhaps this had been going on for years, and Oltyx had simply been too obtuse to notice.
He suspected, with a sourness he could practically taste, that it was the latter case.
He found Parreg seated in the shadow of one of the hall's great pillars, with the slight form of Erraph draped across his lap. The Dikast had grown strangely more delicate with the curse- or perhaps that was simply the contrast between the two of them. Whatever it was, Erraph had wrapped his willowy arms around the stout Agoranomos's chest and clung to him while Parreg's claws tangled in his entrails. Pale rivulets of flux spilled from his thorax, dripping down Parreg's legs.
Parreg touched Erraph's face with his other hand, smearing blood and flux across his jaw. It was a gesture filled with some soft emotion that Oltyx could not- would not- name.
For a moment, he could see them in the light of hekatic truth: not the soulless war machines of the Infinite Empire, nor even the twisted monsters of Llandu'gor's curse. In that moment, they were simply two old men, with an understanding between them that came of sharing the weight of innumerable years and immeasurable, blood soaked tragedy together.
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