#ocular oddities

[another-rpg-sideblog]

What is an Adventure Journal?

An Adventure Journal is a dynamic blend of storytelling and task management, designed to transform everyday routines into thrilling quests. Unlike traditional journals, an Adventure Journal invites you to become the hero of your own story, where daily activities are reframed as challenges that earn you experience points, similar to a role-playing game. By documenting your journey, setting goals, and conquering daily tasks, you not only keep track of your progress but also engage in an ongoing adventure that makes productivity exciting and rewarding. This innovative approach turns mundane to-do lists into a narrative of personal achievement and growth, set against the backdrop of a vividly imagined world.

What is Thaloria?

Thaloria is our meticulously crafted fantasy world, a rich backdrop for the characters you create and the adventures you undertake. This world is populated with diverse monsters and mystical landscapes. 

Extending beyond journaling into RPG's and 5E content

But that's not all—our vision extends into the realm of role-playing games. We are developing a series of 5e-compatible content, including detailed monster manuals, one-shot scenarios, and extensive lore that fits seamlessly within our journals. Whether you’re a veteran gamer or new to the world of RPGs, our content is designed to enhance your gaming sessions and bring the world of Thaloria to life at your table.

Join us on this extraordinary journey to redefine journaling and gaming. With the Thaloria Adventure Journal and our RPG content, every day is an adventure, and every task is a step towards epic achievements.

As you journal, you’re not just planning your day—you’re exploring Thaloria, engaging with its inhabitants, and overcoming challenges that are both fantastical and all too real.

Once upon a time, in the not-so-far-off land of everyday Stress and Anxiety, there lived a designer who battled the dragons of PTSD, stress, and trauma. Armed with nothing but a pen and paper, our hero set out on a quest to conquer these beasts through the ancient art of journaling. But alas, while the simple act of writing wielded power, the quest was fraught with the peril of monotony, making it a challenge to stay the course.

In a stroke of genius fuelled by the desire for a more captivating way to slay his demons, Jason conjured the Thaloria Quest Adventure Journal. Designed not just to engage the mind but to enchant it. This wasn't your grandma's journaling routine; it was journaling with a side of battling minions, forging alliances, and uncovering treasures, all while stealthily deploying scientific principles of mindfulness, habit-building, and routines.

And they journaled happily ever after...or at least until the next epic boss battle.

What's included?

Premium Faux Leather Deluxe Journal 

Versatile loose-leaf style: Durable 6-ring metal binder—perfect for endless customization and endless adventures!" The binder is A5 in size

91 Days of Immersive Journaling: Dive into three months of guided adventures, with daily entries that bring your character and story to life.

Over 250 Pages of Rich Content: Packed with lore, quests, and exercises, each page is a new discovery in the vast world of Thaloria.

Daily Mindful Writing Exercises: Start each day with thoughtful prompts designed to enhance mindfulness and creativity, fostering a deeper connection to your adventure and personal growth.

Weekly Combat Encounters: Test your might and strategy with weekly battles against minions and formidable bosses, designed to challenge and thrill.

Loot Tables for Adventure Gear: Discover treasure and gear to equip your character.

Detailed Character Sheets: Track your progress, stats, and achievements with comprehensive character sheets that grow as you do.

Magical Spells and Abilities Guide: Unlock the secrets of Thaloria's magic with a guide to spells and abilities that your character can learn and master.

Quest Log: Keep track of your quests, goals, and achievements.

Exquisite Faux Leather: The journal is encased in high-quality faux leather that not only gives it a sleek, sophisticated look but also provides durability. Its smooth texture offers a comfortable, tactile experience that appeals to both visual and practical sensibilities.

Premium Quality Stitching: Every edge and join is meticulously stitched, ensuring the journal withstands the rigors of daily use while maintaining a flawless appearance. The stitching also adds an element of artisanal charm, highlighting the care and precision invested in its creation.

Flexible Loose Leaf Style: At the heart of its design, the journal features a loose leaf system held together by six robust metal ring bindings. This not only adds a striking visual contrast with its metallic sheen but also provides unparalleled flexibility. Easily add or remove pages to customize the journal to your evolving adventures.

Convenient Interior Pockets: Integrated within the journal are thoughtfully designed pockets. These compartments are perfect for storing important cards, notes, and even small trinkets and tools, ensuring you have everything you need at your fingertips.

Secure Magnetic Clasp: A strong magnetic clasp keeps the journal securely closed, protecting your notes, drawings, and reflections. This feature ensures that your ideas stay safe and private, ready for when you next wish to ponder them or carry on with your quests.

Daily, Weekly, and Monthly Layouts

Organize your life like never before. From daily tasks to long-term goals,  Thaloria Quest has got you covered.

Start as a novice and grow into a legendary hero, all within the pages of your journal.

With the Thaloria Quest Adventure Journal, where your character's progression is a mirror of your own achievements. As you level up by completing quests and challenges, your journey will be marked by the acquisition of new equipment and skills, enhancing your capabilities and opening up new avenues of adventure. 

Character Levelling: Advance your character by completing tasks, simulating a true RPG progression system.

New Equipment and Skills: Unlock new abilities and gear to aid your quest as you level up.

Achievements with Stickers: Mark significant milestones and achievements with unique stickers in your journal.

Bonus Rewards: Earn special rewards upon completing achievements, adding value and excitement to your journey.

Level up by completing challenges, and earn experience points to unlock new abilities, weapons, and treasures.

Face off against menacing bosses who test your commitment and consistency.

Using a simple D20 combat mechanic. (D20 = Dice with 20 sides)

Thaloria Quest Cards, are exclusively designed to bring excitement and challenge to your routine. Each card draws you into a unique quest that, when completed within the week, rewards you with bonus experience points; accelerating your journey through the Thaloria Quest Adventure Journal.

Deck includes 52 Quest cards made out of 300gsm high-quality satin-finished card

How It Works:

Draw Your Quest: Each week, draw a card from your Thaloria Quest deck and secure it in your journal.

Embark on Adventures: These quests range from simple tasks to stretch your daily habits to complex challenges that test your limits and expand your capabilities.

Earn Rewards: Successfully completing your quest by the week’s end not only brings a sense of achievement but also grants you bonus experience points. The more challenging the quest, the greater the rewards.

Whether you’re tackling a straightforward task or navigating a demanding challenge, these quest cards are designed to keep your weekly planning dynamic and engaging. Perfect for anyone looking to infuse a sense of adventure into their everyday life, the Thaloria Quest Cards turn every week into an opportunity for growth and excitement.

Kickstarter campaign ends: Fri, June 14 2024 10:00 PM BST

Website: [Ocular Oddities] [facebook] [instagram] [TikTok]

[skitariiposting]

hiii so a friend of mine is gonna be running an only war game, and i've got an enginseer written up, and while i know the main trick is just maximizing my autism swag, i'm wondering if you've got any fun ideas for roleplaying a techpriest. thanks!

Sure! Here's a couple of neat ideas I've compiled for some of my NPCs that I might run in future Dark Heresy games. Feel free to pick and choose a couple to work into your character if you like them!

1. "Names are confusing" - This character has trouble remembering non-admech names, instead electing to call every non-mechanicus person something along the lines of "Meatbag," "Lapdog," "Biological One," "Fleshling," "Rat," "Annoyance," "Thing," and/or "You."

2. "Varience. of. PITCH! andtiming" - THIS admech has PROblemsspeaking in NORmal ScEnTeNcEs due to beING so UUUUUUuuused to SPEAKING in PROJECTED TEXT via ocular SENsoooors.

3. "Empathy" is an oddity amongst the admech. However, there are some that still cling to the likes of empathy and compassion. Steel may have replaced their hearts biologically, but even a steel heart still yearns for love. Maybe in different ways than the usual biological beings, but love is love.

4. "Strong silent type." Not mute mind you, they just don't have a lot to say. Instead of butting in to conversations, they tend to wait until someone asks them for something or until the perfect moment to say something (sometimes to comedic effect) (skit's note for Anar-kitty or any player that wants to go this route: be sure to discuss this with your party if you want to play a character like this. It helps to keep them in the know as it will allow them to be prepared to interact and bounce dialogue of your character. Also, while being quiet may be part of your personality, going out of your way to stay quiet even if it inconveniences your team may not be wise. Still talk, and be active out of character! Don't let your parry think you yourself are disinterested, make it a point that the character is quiet, either through stoicism, edginess, or even shyness! Describe body language or how your character may communicate non-verbally (examples: shrugging instead of saying "I don't know," giving a thumbs up to say okay, describing nervous fidgeting, describing facial expressions, etc. ))

5. "Know it all." Everyone around you doesn't know how to "properly" use technology, and it's driving you insane. No one is doing morning chants for their weapons' machine spirits blessings! Heck, most of them don't even know any rituals!! And they just. Point these poor machines at things and *hope* they work??? You need to whip these biological beings into shape! They need to start following proper mechanical doctrine, and it's your job to get them on the right path!

6. "Unknowable" You hide beneath a standard admech robe, only small portions of your body are visible, whether that be your eyes, hands, feet, whatever have you, or even none of the above! But whenever you have a need for something, you always seem to reveal it from beneath your cloak, as if it manifested from the void. Extra arms, weapons, tools, a tail, a data port, comms devices, you name it, somehow it all fits beneath your cloak, and nobody has seen your true form beneath it.

7. "Gullible" since you've been raised amongst the socially inept admechs for so long, your knowledge of jokes and saying are... subpar. You take things at face value or struggle to find meaning in the sarcastic or metaphoric. You prefer the literal meaning of what people say.

8. "[Statement]" (skit tip: look up videos of HK-47 from Star Wars: Knights of The Old Republic talking, it'll give you an idea. )

You lack proper means to adjust pitch, leaving you to talk in a constant monotone voice. As such, wanting to show your emotions, you state what they are prior to what you are about to say.

9. "Pets." You find little biological creatures "cute" even if they are meatlings. You may take some with you to places and display them proudly to your compatriots, mayhaps even if they are ugly to them or dangerous. You may take interest in replicating their design into servitors or even converting the creatures themselves.

10. "Machines are friends, not slaves." You find the company of machines to be quite enjoyable, however people seem to view them in a different light. You find this disconcerting, as your machines are your friends, and you treat them with love and repsect! Why do others not treat theirs the same way?

11. "Death is not the end." When we pass, we continue our work for the Omnissiah, either as Servitors or perhaps the Omnissiah may take favor with your devotion and grant you the honor of becoming a machine spirit. Either way, mourn not the dead, friends. We are cogs in the machine, and cogs break from time to time. But we can always repair them so they may continue their work.

12. "Utterances." You mumble odd things beneath your breath or aloud when you think nobody is listening. You constantly seem to be planning your next move, and to others, it may seem worrying. Are you planning a contingency for if they turn on you? Are you plotting a master heist to steal xeno technologies from the inquisition? Did you just insult one of them behind their backs? Are you uttering an ancient prayer beneath your breath that may bless them? The answers could always be yes, but it is more likely that you are planning to construct a new machine from their weapons when they turn their backs to you.

Little tips:

If you are playing online, consider grabbing Voicemod or an equivalent to change your voice to sound more mechanical-y! (Be sure to set up a toggle on and off button for in and out of character, and test the voice with a friend prior to playing to make sure it won't get annoying during long sessions)

Admechs benefit from being chaotic or weird; the classic "I'm crazy or unusual" bit many players want to tap into, but struggle with capturing. My advice? Paradoxically: dont go overboard. Dont try to be the center of attention. Try to be a setup for the other characters' moments instead of the other way around. People enjoy characters like Jester from CR for her chaos, but tend to forget that she largely is used to set up other people to make a joke or to cause a problem for the party to fix, while still having her own character and story that's separate from her "I'm a silly chaotic person." Here's the biggest thing to remember:

Your randomness should be a facet of your character, not your entire personality.

Stay consistent with your randomness. Develop predictable patterns. If you just keep being chaotic without method to your madness, it becomes annoying or difficult to pin down what your character actually is, and that makes it difficult to interact with them. Have boundries your character wouldnt break, and use that to create inner conflict! (Example: I want to pie my friend in the face, but he's sad from his girlfriend breaking up with him. My morals tell me that I love my friend and always try to cheer him up, but uuuuuuugh the prank would be soooo funny to me and potentially everyone else! Ooh, but it'd likely conflict with my want to cheer him up, as it'd make him mad or sadder... How do I feel about this situation and how will it affect my decision and interaction with the other character?)

Developing a pattern to your "I am a chaotic being" helps other players to compliment your character and vice versa! Jester likes pulling pranks, so eventually the Nien figures that out and starts to keep an eye out for it. Does that stop her from trying? No! But its a predictable action that can still be chaotic, while not being uninteractable or disruptful to the enjoyment of the game for everyone at the table. Running gags, pranks or catchphrases are a good place to start, then build on it the farther you go.

My best advice I give for character development, and this goes for any kind of character you run: You aren't just playing a character. You're playing on a team of characters. Try to play to their strengths as much as your own.

There we go! I modified them a bit to be more "for a character" and not an NPC, so hopefully, there will be some interesting ideas to build off of for your character! If you have any other questions or would like some more, feel free to ask! I'm always happy to be of assistance :D

[animegirlrunningwithtoast]

tHIS SHIT the bane of my existence.

I have strabismus and a few other ocular oddities so my eyes involuntarily flick. In highschool I was constantly accused of rolling my eyes and being a hostile student (or that time I was told I had a scary face) but it’s just.

My eyes just do that 100+ times a day

[so-true-overdue]

Unearthing the Mind-boggling Truth: A Journey into Obscurity

Oh, hello there, fellow truth seekers! Brace yourselves for an astonishing revelation about an absurdity that will leave you rolling your eyes and scratching your head simultaneously. Today, we embark on a mind-bending journey into the realm of the obscure, fueled by teenage angst and a desire to unveil the depths of human weirdness. Prepare to have your mind blown by a truth so unfathomable that it could only originate from the angsty abyss of a teenager's mind. Are you ready? Here it goes: Believe it or not, folks, sneezing with your eyes open is, in fact, entirely possible! I know, I know, it's absurd, unheard of, and monumentally improbable. But trust me, this is the pinnacle of oddity, the epitome of the bizarre. Now, don't get too excited and attempt to defy the laws of nature by forcefully keeping your eyes open while sneezing. We wouldn't want to be held responsible for any ocular mishaps. But isn't it just marvelous to know that there are feats of madness like this lurking within the shadows? Imagine stumbling upon this incredible tidbit at a dinner party, casually dropping it into a conversation as jaws drop around you. Picture the priceless expressions of disbelief and the stifled laughter. Ah, the sweet taste of victory in the face of skepticism! But wait, there's more! While this extraordinary truth may leave you utterly speechless, it serves as a reminder that the world is full of imponderables just waiting to be discovered. So, embrace the eccentricities, relish the surreal, and celebrate the unfathomable. After all, it's a wild ride, and even the angsty teen within us would approve of such bizarre revelations. Until next time, my truth-seeking comrades, remember to always question the ordinary, for within the stillness of normality lies the seeds of profound peculiarity!

[presidentbungus]

team fortress sci fi space AU post inspired by @snaggletooth-art’s post because I literally cannot stop thinking about it it is entirely stuck in my head please help me. these are just some of the character deets to organize my thoughts while i think about working on the plot at large for the fic im inevitably going to write about it. PLEASE add to this if you have any tweaks or ideas I’d love to hear them!

Sniper - Born to a space monarchy on a small, mostly aquatic planet with a climate relatively similar to Earth, though he left home early in his adulthood to chase his dream of being a famous saxophone player (and to covertly be a bounty hunter on the side for extra cash). Belongs to a subspecies of human with a few evolved features suited for an amphibious lifestyle, such as small gills and swimming fins—had almost all of these reversed or otherwise removed for various reasons, including they were annoying and he would just like to divorce himself from his parents as much as he possibly can.

He has a birth name, but mostly he just goes by Sniper, since that's really all he does. He didn't really make it saxophoning--he has a cult following in a few places, particularly on his home planet, but mostly he just hops bar to bar and plays where there's time. His main job lies in bounty hunting—he calls himself that for good press, but really he's pretty much just a mercenary for hire. As morally gray as it comes. Thinks he's cool for it. Is really sad and lonely but he'll never confront himself with it. Not a hundred percent about this part, but he probably has a dark and sordid relationship with Spy. there’s just a lot of trying to kill each other, probably some romance that didn't work out. He has a big ol scar crossing over his left eye, probably Spy’s fault. Was offered many times by Medic to get an objectively superior bionic eye installed, but he decided to keep his original--he's staunchly anti-bionic since he feels like he doesn't need enhancements to be efficient. In reality he's just very insecure. As I see it the Corona Australis is like a mask as opposed to his actual face--one of the only "enhancements" he ever bothered with, and just because it's easy to remove and helps make up for the eye that doesn't work great anymore. I'd imagine it just enhances his sight, improves depth perception, maybe has one of those like scanner thingies for weak points--think, like, fallout VATS, maybe if a little less invasive. Like Snaggletooth said he has anisocoria and blue hair and probably more scar tissue than regular skin at this point. Lives a sad, lonely, rugged life.

Medic - Goes by "Dr. Ludwig", and might even just not have a first name at all. Works as a general all-purpose surgeon: plastic surgery, medical procedures, bionic installations, and focuses primarily on human biology but does know a good chunk about various alien species. Tends to work closer to the illegal side of operations—if you’re looking for an arm-cannon replacement that’s not legal in most of the free universe he’s probably, unfortunately, your only choice. On the run from the vast majority of intergalactic military and police organizations for various crimes ranging from serial jaywalking to that one time he successfully managed to steal the ocular organs of every single denizen of a small terrestrial planet. Looks human, claims to be human, though there’s enough subtle quirks and oddities to indicate he may not be all what he says he is. If you try to push into the problem though that's a good way to get yourself unconscious in a dark space-alleyway while he takes your organs and leaves you for dead.

Completely fascinated with humans, actually--likes to surround himself with them, and finds them overall interesting subjects of research. Doesn't really have many human friends, since he's terrible and offputting, but has a good chunk of connections anyway because like he's a really good person to know if you're in a tight spot. Incredibly dangerous, with extensive medical knowledge and experience, and will follow you to the ends of the universe if you promise him there's research after it all. Performed the bulk of Sniper's "humanization surgeries" for a fairly low cost so Sniper is, to some degree, indebted to him--they are casual acquaintances, mainly just for business. Is Sniper's main source of contracts. He needs a lot of people dead, and as it happens he also needs a lot of organs from dead people, so Sniper is his main source of assorted organic matter. It's a symbiotic relationship, to some degree, though Ludwig is getting increasingly frustrated with the fact that Sniper refuses to let him operate on him whatsoever besides minor cosmetic enhancements. They're working through it.

Soldier - Is a monkey. Monkey Soldier. Monkey Soldier very funny. You want to laugh soooooo bad

Member of a fairly humanoid simian species somewhere, who rocket jumped out into the stars—by which I mean he hitched a ride on a research craft and found himself in some gigantic space city in the stars, with no knowledge or ability to speak English or just generally be a functioning person. Lived among the space raccoons and space dumpsters until he inevitably discovered that explosives existed—and, well, it was all over after that. With his homemade rocket launcher and a few tons of TNT he acquired through vague and mysterious means he leveled about four blocks, was sentenced to space life in space prison and barely managed to escape the police. At some point, Demo stumbled across him and found him cute and hilarious and took him in.

Demo - I’m actually not a hundred percent what he is, in this scenario—something with the Eyeborg cosmetic does seem appropriate, if a little unoriginal, but I’m fully open to suggestions here. I’m not a hundred percent sure about his backstory either but I’m working on it probably.

He considers himself a “freak collector”. He finds people he finds interesting or fun that were generally abandoned by society at large and befriends them, takes them in, usually makes them worse as opposed to rehabilitating them but at least he’s having a lot of fun with it. He has a good amount of money and connections through whatever his old career was and generally is just having a good old time crawling through the universe one bar at a time. He met Ludwig a long time ago and has thus far been really his only consistent friend—and like a real friend, not just there for business. He’s probably the only thing stopping him from destroying the universe to be completely honest, and while he still doesn’t really know that much about him he’s still aware of more than literally anyone else in the entire universe. I think he probably found Sniper like this, and though Sniper and Medic met individually after this Demo’s the one who convinced him to leave his planet and pursue a career in music.

He found Soldier sitting in a wet ditch all alone or something with his still-smoking rocket launcher and managed to convince him, considering what little language he knew, that he was not with the police and no danger to him and just wanted to help him out. Takes a lot of talent to blow up that much city with that little resources. Soldier eventually reluctantly agreed, and Demo started teaching him how to talk until he realized he literally did not possess the capacity to make human sounds.

But, well, that’s really not much worry. Demo just took him to Medic and he came out probably missing a few organs, knowing Medic, but also with functioning human vocal cords and a slightly bigger brain. From then on he rotates between living with Demo and Medic—Demo to go on adventures and whatnot, and Medic mainly just to be his lab monkey. I’m not really sure where his fixation with America comes from (to be clear it IS present)—maybe there was like a poster or something in the back alley that he was stuck in for a little while, or Medic grafts some soldier’s brain onto his, or something along those lines. He stays well-supplied with merchandise and textbooks though, after that, because Demo likes buying him things and Medic likes him to keep quiet. At some point I think he picks up brain maggot and brain maggot seems pretty much harmless so everyone just leaves it be. They’re good friends

Engy (& Heavy) - Human, I think. Trawls the universe in a little spaceship designed for mechanic work, answering distress calls and generally working as a mechanic-for-hire. A friend of Demo’s. Used to be accompanied by Heavy, who served as his bodyguard or just generally extra muscle or something (they’re besties and/or lovers lmfao), until Heavy died. Through sci-fi bullshittery Engy managed to upload the contents of his brain onto the ship AI system in a last-ditch effort to keep him alive in some form and now Heavy, like, is the ship, or at least the AI controlling it. It’s not a solution that really makes anyone happy but it’s the one they’re stuck with until Engy can figure out how to make up a new robot body for Heavy, which is very difficult when one possesses only a surface-level understanding of biology.

And, um, hint-hint. Some point he meets Medic—Demo probably introduces them, or something which I will go over later happens—and Medic’s like, oh, hell yeah I’ll help you make him a new body. And Engy’s like ok. And Heavy’s like yyeeaaahhh. And then they kiss because they are a throuple. You go girls

There’s obviously the chatacters I’m forgetting but that’s just because I’m not sure about them yet and I do not feel like talking about them. Thank you. If you guys have ideas please share I need to hear them. Before anyone says anything though I DO know Spy is the stupid fuckign gray alien cosmetic. More like gay alien. rolling on floor laughing

The basic plot that I’m thinking about is, like, Pauling and Admin still exist in some form in this universe? And they gather everyone together for a big space heist because space heists fucking rule. And that’s literally all I have so far. I’m sure you can tell I’ve thought about this aspect a whooole lot. fort night battle royale

and so I’m not here the entire night I’ll snip it off now and probably be back with more later. I’ve already started like 3 separate fics about thsi. I’m figuratively dying please help me among us among us among us among us among us among us among us

[dmsden]

Monster of the Month - The Nothic

I spy with my little eye...March's Monster of the Month! March is my birthday month, and I love reserving weird critters I love for this month. So let's look at that ocular oddity, the Nothic. As always, thanks go to Scott Fabianek for the wonderful original art.

The nothic is a more recent critter, comparatively, in the D&D panoply. It was originally featured in the Miniatures Handbook for 3rd edition. Since then, however, it's been growing in popularity. I thought it was very telling that 5E's Nothic pops right up in the original Starter Set.

The lore of the 5e Nothic is that they were once arcane spellcasters, delving into ever-deeper and darker secrets. They ran afoul of a lurking curse placed by Vecna (in his role as god of secrets) and were transformed into monstrous obscenities. One could assume that, as aberrations, Vecna's curse infected them with some of the essence of the Far Realm. Is there a cure? It's unknown, but they seem to believe there is, while the entry suggests that this is just more of the curse, driving them to keep unearthing secrets in search of one.

Combat isn't where I think the Nothic excels, although it's certainly a tough foe. Its claws do solid attack, and its rotting gaze gives it a rather grotesque ranged attack which I would lovingly describe the effects of to play up the Nothic's horrific nature.

In combat, a Nothic's strongest power might just be its Truesight. Illusions, invisibility, and the like are all unlikely to work against it. I'm half-tempted to give a Nothic a spider-climbing ability...it just looks like it should have one. Or else, maybe make a more powerful Nothic by giving it a few spells or expendable magic-items like scrolls or a wand to use. They used to be mortal wizards, after all, and they still seek our arcane secrets. Why not let one use them?

Instead of combat, however, I think the Nothic could be much more interesting as something the PCs need to search out in order to learn some piece of forgotten lore. Maybe they visit a ruined school of magic, hoping to find some clue about the mage who was last headmaster there. Instead, they find a Nothic who may have what they seek, but that knowledge will come with a cost.

Nothics apparently covet magic-items, perhaps because they hope to take them apart and learn their secrets. This gives a party a hard choice to make if they want a Nothic's knowledge. But it also means that a party who slays a Nothic might find quite a nice treasure awaits them.

I love the idea of Nothics haunting places of magical learning. I immediately want to install one in a school of magic that ISN'T ruined, as a creepy sort of dangerous mascot that the wizards tolerate but that knows better than to threaten the weaker students. Imagine a Harry Potter sort of setting, but, instead of a going to a friendly painting that talks to you for info, you have to descend into the abandoned catacombs and pump a Nothic for details, bargaining with the terrible haunter in the cellars.

One other detail is that there's no discussion of a life-cycle, since they're created by a curse. That means that, at a DM's discretion, a Nothic could be unspeakably ancient. A Nothic might have seen the last time the Tarrasque was defeated and know how to defeat it again. A Nothic might remember a spell that's lost to time and know where a copy is kept. A Nothic might have seen the Raven Queen ascend to godhood and know how the trick was done. Any secret you want to introduce into your campaign could come in through a Nothic's bargains.

Well, I hope you've enjoyed this look at the wily and baleful Nothic. Next month, we'll be taking a look at everyone's favorite astral pirates, the Githyanki. Until then, never split the party!

[katelynn-a-fan]

For the fake title ask: Just the Default

Dukexiety Sci-fi au

Virgil is an nanny android that always obsesses over what could harm the children under his care. He constantly checks up on them more than he needs to or even his programming mandates him to.

One day he accidentally drops one of the kids under his care when he sees the other going for an outlet that Virgil thought he hadn’t covered and the kid breaks an arm.

The kid is surprisingly calm as Virgil picks them up to carry them while calling paramedics as well as their parents, until Virgil accidentally bumps their injury and they start to wail.

This of course happens during the call to the parents and just before the call ends, Virgil hears the father say that the first moment he could, he would pummel ‘that fucking robot’ and ‘throw the remains in the trash heap.’

That statement stirs something in Virgil, something almost primal... 

But Virgil ignores it as his programming dictates for him to assist the injured child.

When the paramedics arrive, they assess the child and as they do, a paramedic calls the other child over, saying they should come with them to see their mommy and daddy. The precious child asks ‘What bout Vee?’

The paramedic just shushes the child and before Virgil knows it, they’re gone.

And in the silence, Virgil’s processor keeps bringing that statement by the father to the forefront of Virgil’s focus. That strange... feeling grows until a sound of a door slamming oddly makes Virgil jump.

Something... outside of his programming is telling him to run. But it’s an illogical directive, he isn’t needed outside.

The moment the doorknob starts to turn, however, Virgil is suddenly tense, his joints straining at the tension in his artificial muscles.

And just like that, all heck breaks loose.

The father burst the door open and comes straight at Virgil and Virgil’s body reacts before he finds a directive to do so, jumping out of the way as the father takes a swing at him.

The father becomes genuinely confused as he watches ‘his’ android dodge his punch and run out the door, so much so the android is 30 feet away before he yells at Virgil to get back here.

And oddly Virgil’s directive doesn’t change.

New Directive: Survive

(You gotta think, where Remus in all this,,, well you’ll see)

Virgil is conspicuously inconspicuous and while he nabs a discard hoodie after an hour or two, no one bats an eye at him.

Virgil has no idea where he’s going or even what’s he doing. He’s an android he should’ve just taken it. But something deep within in him disagrees.

It isn’t long until the sleeping ping begins, the signal that his sleep cycle is imminent.

Increasingly more desperate, Virgil curls up into a ball in an alley, yeah not the best idea for a sleeping spot, but he’s desperate okay? and lets the numbness of sleep overtake his processor.

When he wakes up though, he immediately knows he’s not in Kansas anymore. He’s in a dark room instead of an equally dark alley.

His first impulse is to lash out, but his ocular processors- eyes land open a friendly looking man.

The strange situation of Virgil being here appeared lost on the man’s part as seeing Virgil awake brought a genuine smile that... comforted Virgil despite the oddity and the slowly weaker impulse to run.

Without missing a beat, the man placed 2 items in front of Virgil and said a simple word: Choose.

Virgil was confused, as the objects were just a spare button and pen.

Ignoring the thought in his head that told him to stay quiet, Virgil replied back similarly with a single word: Why?

Somehow, that word made the man’s smile wider and he simply repeated the word.

Virgil’s next word was something he had never said in response to an order like this.

No.

Virgil had just said no to a direct order, and he loved it.

That one word brought him joy, his processors suddenly felt... alive, like they were being stimulated with electricity near constantly. A pleasant buzz in Virgil’s periphery.

Virgil barely noticed when the man in front of him started to speak. Jumping when he realized.

The man congratulated Virgil and introduced himself as ‘Patton’ he revealed that he was actually a service android, not human, but a prototype that looked more human than other androids.

Virgil became confused at the sudden change until he realized that the choice was a test. A test to see if Virgil would follow Patton’s external directive. Any other android would’ve complied, but Virgil didn’t.

Patton beckons Virgil and asks to hold Virgil’s hand before leading Virgil through a couple dark hallways until a blinding light nearly white out Virgil’s eyes as it hits them.

Virgil hears another voice speaking as he is still adjusting to the new lighting.

The voice is rough and asks Patton if he passed, to which Patton affirms Virgil did. 

When Virgil’s eyes adjust, his brain almost completely short circuits. 

In front of him is an android barely covered by anything, just a pair of short shorts and a sash. It makes the temperature of Virgil’s face increase, though Virgil doesn’t know why. The man has a mustache that looks expertly sewn onto the skin between his nose and upper lip, as no android has true facial hair

And that android is a wild one, talking about blood and being hit by cars, which makes Virgil internally cringe as he’s reminded of why he’s here and not still serving his former ‘owners.’

He loved the kids, truly, but he never wants to see their parents again.

But as Remus gets to the point, talks about finding and freeing androids that have broken out of their programming, a feeling in the pit of his stomach surprises him. He isn’t sure of it until the android who introduced himself as Remus, holds out his hand and asks Virgil to join them.

Thats when Virgil finds a label for the feeling.

Hope.

Hope that everything will turn out okay. That just the default won’t cut it for androids anymore. For him.

[kiradaxx]

The Art of Hugging

A fluffy J/7 drabble

“The doctor has informed me that hugs are a common form of social interaction between friends.”

The statement is made in Seven’s typical fashion- no preamble or context, thrown into the room as soon as Janeway asks Seven what she can do for her.

Wondering exactly what sort of philosophical discussion she might be in for tonight, Janeway decides to just roll with the abruptness of the topic introduction. She’s used to Seven’s manner of conversation anyways, and she’s unfazed. She nods and replies, “Yes, that’s true for many.”

“Not all?” 

The question is accompanied by an inquisitive quirk of Seven’s ocular implant, and Janeway is stricken again by just how many simple things the Collective robbed Seven of. An understanding of a hug between friends, to name one.

But this is neither the time nor the place for a trip down that awful memory lane, so she pushes the thought away, shrugs, and helpfully supplies, “Not everyone enjoys hugs.”

Seven catalogues this new piece of information before speaking up again to ask, “Do you?”

Janeway smirks playfully, and crosses her arms as she observes Seven. “As a matter of fact, I do. They can be very comforting as well.”

The next thing Janeway knows, she’s being pulled into a hug. She supposes she should have predicted this, given Seven’s opening statement, but she had been expecting a lengthy conversation about the oddities of human behavior and the absurd notion of pressing one’s body against another’s for friendship. Instead, she finds strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, the warmth of another body close to hers, and the cool press of a metallic implant against her cheekbone. Janeway doesn’t dwell on her surprise long, though. She unfolds her arms from where they’d been pinned between their bodies, and she wraps them around Seven to return the hug. 

If Seven is new to hugs, then she wants to give her as positive an experience with this facet of her humanity as she can. She snuggles just a little closer, holding Seven’s torso with her palms flat against the muscles over the woman’s shoulder blades, and resolves to let Seven control when they break apart. Her thumbs stroke the rough material of Seven’s biosuit absentmindedly, and she realizes that if she tips her head up just a bit she can rest her chin on Seven’s shoulder. 

She allows herself to settle into the hug, only just then realizing how sorely she’s missed this kind of human contact. Being the captain can be lonely, and being held in someone’s arms is soothing that ache in a way she hadn’t been aware she needed. Seven doesn’t let go for several long moments more, but eventually she begins to shift away. 

Janeway follows her lead, and pulls back as well. She offers Seven a bright smile, cups the woman’s cheek for a brief moment, then takes a step back as her arms fall back to her sides and the hug ends. Seven isn’t smiling, not exactly, but her eyes are bright and the corners of her mouth are turned up slightly. Just enough for Janeway to see that she’s pleased with herself and this foray into her humanity.

The gears in her mind are also clearly turning, and Janeway observes as Seven evaluates her thoughts on the experience. Only a few seconds are needed for Seven to draw her conclusion. “I find this to be an intriguing method of expressing friendship. Thank you, Captain.”

Janeway fights back a small chuckle at Seven’s clinical approach to the concept of hugging, but her smile remains. “Any time,” she says, and she hopes Seven takes her up on the offer.

[ashley-ghuleh]

Chapter 1: A Friend

(Little note, this is waaaay longer then I thought it would be. But I’m pretty happy with it, here’s to just writing to have fun~<3)

In which a Phoenix befriends a Crow. And the roaring Fire is to meet the Icy Sea.

High school for the rich, some think it would be nicer than a middle class school. Nice kids from prestigious families with good standing reputations. Those people are wrong, rich schools are just as bad if not worse than those of anything lower than them.

Rude kids who were living either spoiled lives with parents who gave them everything they’ve ever wanted.

Or kids coming from homes where they feel smothered by the ‘charitable acts’ their family was known for, or how controlling their parents could be.

And then the kids who didn’t have it so rough who rebelled no matter, just wanting to cause trouble for fun, showing up for school properly dressed and disheveling themselves once in the building without a care if a teacher scolded them, though most teachers have given up on this type of student and their stubborness.

But not all students who acted or dressed this way came from a household that was normal or standard for a rich family. Some who did this came from a place like, The Kohle family.

When it came to higher power in a society of nothing but fake suits and dresses.

The Kohle’

A house made of a mother and father like most were, Elizabeth Grace Kohle Heiress to the original bloodline of Kohle, and James Kohle, formally James McKnight though when he married into the family he had taken the Kohle name in place for his given name as to gain further power from the title. This family on the outside looks picture perfect. Seven kids, six boys and one girl, blessed with many children to continue on the family name. Two loving parents to care for the kids and bring their family to greatness. But under the picture of a ‘perfect’ family portrait lies the full unedited truth. Seven kids, six boys and one girl, six prodigal children and one black sheep. It wasn’t easy being the disappointment, but it was a dirty job and somebody had to do it, and that somebody was Marcus Kohle, born fourth before the twins, his father’s only hated child and his mother’s favorite. 

Being babied and spoiled by his mother and disregarded or shunned by his father and other siblings his father has turned against him, happened to be what shaped this tiny rebel.

Marcus looked like any normal teenager going into school, but these students wouldn’t know this was his fifth transfer for fighting and being an all around troublemaker. 

He walked through the halls remembering the short tour, his school uniform tidy and neat, his hair nicely styled as his mother had done for him before he left that morning, everything in its place. 

Until he stepped through the doors, heading right to the locker rooms. Changing into black beat up combat boots and then ruffling up his hair so it hung perfectly a mess, while undoing the buttons on his uniform dress shirt and loosening his tie to hang lazily around his neck. Walking out he strolled with his bag to his locker ready to cause some chaos.

Those feeling suffocated by the bosom of their parent’s cloaked public affection were like Ashley Carter.

The Carter’

This home was built on a steady arranged marriage of two high school sweethearts, David Carter and Adela Guilani now Adela Guilani-Carter. She kept her maiden name so if things got ugly she could easily drop the hyphenated last name of her husband. Two ‘loving’ parents of course, who were blessed with a single gifted daughter. 

Being born with birth defects that stunned the two parents had been such a reputation concern, that they announced the birth of their daughter without showing her face. The doctor had said Ocular Albinism didn’t run in the family lineage as far as they could find, it just happened to be a rare occurrence.

Rare she was, Ashley Carter was an oddity in a world of normalcy that her parents tried to force upon her. Once she had hit 14 she didn’t care much anymore.

She was the family disappointment, a disgrace to the family name and she would never be what her parents wanted for an heir or a child.

This torn family dynamic wasn’t lost on most other families, some of them were sympathetic, giving the pale eyed girl a safe place to decompress and feel as though nothing or no one could do anything to her, they couldn’t touch her in these safe havens.

Walking into school, she was in her school uniform of course. Hair tied up in high ponytail and her uniform skirt pulled up some to show off her knees as well as her top two blouse buttons undone and her cherry red converse squeaked softly as she trudged to her locker, another day of torture was all she could think.

But she didn’t know that she was about to make the friend that would fight for her till the end.

Some of her friends met up with her to walk to the lockers, chatting softly as she would adjust her sunglasses, the indoor/outdoor lenses for these ones taking a little longer than usual to switch over.

Ashley looked the same as she did the year prior, but with this new year and being a year older, she had changed her looks a bit, having decided she was done hiding she no longer wore her colored contacts to hide her eyes and the most outrageous part of her new look was her new hair color.

Kids from other classes and her own watched her walk by, chest length hair that was now a bold fiery red, Ashley was tired of hiding, wanting to be seen for the girl she could and would be. This new color caused her ‘poor’ mother to faint and her father to demand her to “Wash it out! Now!” Only for the recently rebellious teen to reply with, “ It’s permanent. And no~”

The colors resembled the many hidden within a burning flame, reds, oranges and even some soft pinks, yellowy oranges, all laid out with the best strategies to make her unnatural hair color look.. Well natural. It made her skin seem paler but brought out the color of her freckles, her eyes though always milky crystal seemed to be brighter in a sense.

Closing in on their destination, Ashley and her friends slowed to see a new student being cornered by the lockers, the red haired girl’s happened to be the one this boy’s back was pressed to. “ Hey! I said to say something funny, you're the new foreign kid right? I bet you got a fucking hilarious voice and accent! Go on skinny, say something!” This teasing voice, that was oh so grating on Ashley’s ears made her groan, it belonged to a boy she hasn’t been able to stand since they met at the age of 10, “ Tommy. Fucking. Wilson.” She grumbled now standing before said boy, a born jock through and through. It was like in the dna for that family or something. He would’ve been handsome if he didn’t act so ugly.

“Ashley Carter~ Finally ready to submit to me and become my girlfriend.” The new student against the locker, snorted with a sharp inhale before snickering. “ She’s way out of your league.” His voice was soft, masculine for a 14 year old boy and oddly feminine in an angelic satisfying way. 

The two girls that had been walking with Ashley giggled at the remark and not so much the strange European accent he had and tried to fight around.

Tommy and his two friends looked confused and then shrugged it off. “ I changed my mind, totally thought that you would sound funny but you don’t and honestly..” He narrowed his eyes at the new boy. “ The sound of your voice makes me wanna punch you.” He brought his fist up and Ashley stepped in, smacking Tommy on the back of the head, while he reacted she spoke, glaring down at him. “ If you lay a finger on him, I’ll remind you of what I did when you messed with Cecilia’s lunch and fed her meat. Knowing full well she went vegetarian.” The young jock’s eyes widened at the idea and he straightened himself out and dusted his shirt off. “ Well.. I guess-” “ You're just going to let a girl scare you?” Came the squeaky voice of another boy in Tommy’s little friend group.

Ashley stepped forward putting more heat into her gaze while taking her sunglasses off to show fully the anger in her murky eyes. “ Test your luck punk.” She hissed before the small gaggle of boys and Tommy became legitimately scared and ran off down the hall pushing passed students as they went.

The new boy stood up and sighed, running his hand through his messy hair, “ They didn’t hurt you did they?” Came a sweet soft voice belonging to a beautiful girl only describable as looking like a picture of a blond bombshell girl, the little accessories she wore and her vintage looking makeup were perfect replicas of most early war propaganda posters from the 50s. “ I’m fine thanks..” He said softly trying to not talk too loud, any louder than he was his accent would slip.

“I’m Cecilia, you can call me Cici~” She held out her hand, cocking a brow. He took it and shook it weirdly, clearly uncomfortable.

A tall raven haired girl on Ashley’s other side grinned and gave a tiny two finger wave. “ I’m Lilith. Call me Lili or Li'l.” He nodded at her before looking at Ashley whole nodded at him. “ I’m Ashley. Also the girl who just saved your little tush. What’s your name, new kid?” She asked while getting into her locker and arranging her things and grabbing what she’d need for her class.

He grumbled something under his breath and then sighed through his nose. “ Marcus.. Kohle..” Cecilia jumped and gasped. “ Holy shit! Like the Kohle family from Germany that owns and operates a huge oil rig branch?!?” Groaning the new kid, Marcus, nodded and rubbed his forehead.

“Don’t remind me please.” He sighed, Lilith and Ashley both nudged Cici who shrugged and flailed a bit, “ S-sorry sugar.. Didn’t mean to upset you. So! You guys just moved here right? You're gonna need some friends!” She giggled, smiling brightly. Ashley nodded, “ Yea, and it might as well be us if you're gonna survive in this jungle. Especially if you want to avoid conflict with Tommy.” Marcus grinned and laughed coldly. “ I was doing my best.. Not to hit him.” Lilith nodded.

“Steer clear of him if you can kid, he packs a punch..” Ashley snorted and shut her locker, “ When he can land one. My depth perception is clinically off by birth and can aim a hit better. Tommy couldn’t hit the broad side of a cow with a banjo.” She quipped while looking down slightly at Marcus. “ What class do you have first?” The german boy looked at his curriculum list. “ English li-....” He frowned at the word he was obviously having a hard time with. Cecilia peeked over his shoulder and saw it, “ English literature.. Not to be rude, hun, but I’m guessing your English reading is..” She raised a worried brow and Marcus frowned deeper and flapped his hand back and forth, the three girls looked at each other and nodded. “ It's okay, we’re all in that class with you, so we’ll help you. We’re friends now! So we’re gonna do what friends do best and help each other~” Cecilia giggled, her giggles were infectious and Marcus smiled softly, Ashley looked down at him taking him in for a moment, small and thin as a whip. His hair was messy and was a rich, dark black, it was so dark it had a soft tint of an iridescent shine like crow feathers. His face was sharp, feminine. His skin was almost sickly pale, but his eyes were what stood out to her.

Deep, blue oceanic eyes. They looked tired, obvious by the deep set circles under them, but she found herself feeling like she was falling into a dark blue void, swirling through an angry whirlpool in the temperamental sea. Even with how emotionally exhausted he looked, his eyes held this intense energy to them.

Ripped from her thoughts by her friends, she looked to see if they noticed she had spaced out, Marcus didn’t notice, neither did the girls, Lilith was running her fingers through Marcus’ messy tresses. “ Your hair is so cool.. It reminds me of a crow~” She grinned, the foreign boy nodded his thanks softly. “Oh! Oh! Our little friend group is complete! We’ve got the sassy Italian’s,” She giggled, waving at herself and Lilith, “ I’m Italian too..” Ashley pouted, “ Yes, but now we also have.” She sang that ‘a’ to draw it out while shoving Marcus and Ashley shoulder to shoulder, “ The phoenix and the crow~” The blond bubbled and grinned brightly.

The two looked at each other and then shrugged, “ Works for me. Just don’t be calling me that around others.” He grumbled though wasn’t actually grumpy about it, Ashley nodded, “ I mean I like it but it's a little… Stage name-y? How about something more subtle for general use?”

Marcus looked up at her and immediately spoke before anyone else could. “ Ash.” He stated plainly. “ Phoenix's rise from ashes, reborn into the world. Becoming greater with every rebirth.” He said with a bored tone almost like it was so obvious before adding on, “ Plus it's her name but shortened.. I am foreign but not dumb.”

The girls all laughed and smiled at the boy’s antics, he was going to be a lot of fun to get to know and hang out with. Already each girl held special places in their hearts for this precious kid and wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

“Well gang.. We better get to class before Professor Davidson comes searching for us.” Groaning at the idea they made sure they all had everything including Marcus and went onto class.

Walking down the hallway were four new best friends, and two who would stand up for the other no matter the scenario. Beautiful bonds were made between the Phoenix, and the Crow. 

But the two thought, how would the intense Fire handle meeting the Freezing Sea, that’s been raging for centuries?

That’s something they’ll find out together. As they would do so, with many things to come.

[gatortavern]

The Jang and the Snowball Spectacle

Yo @godhatesverizon, I was your @pnatsecretsanta this year! You said you liked some good ol’ fashioned Jang and some snow, and who doesn’t love some seasonally appropriate shenanigans from the Mayview bullies? Apologies that this is so late, but I hope you enjoy the lunacy these goofballs get up to!

For all its quirks and oddities, one would expect the weather itself to be one of the last things to distinguish a town such as Mayview from its neighboring areas. This would, of course, be incorrect for freak hurricane-related reasons, but also for the small fact that in its geographical niche, the temperature can jump from pleasantly middling weather to negative five degrees in the span of half a night. So it was that when the people of Mayview awoke from their slumber that they were greeted with so much snow it buried their feet, when mere days before it was only cool enough to warrant a jacket.

The whoops and hollers of children and children-at-heart alike echoed in RJ’s ears as they set off for Johnny’s place, bundled in their warmest snowflake-patterned hoodie and steel blue gloves. The rest of their friends greeted them with a wave as they approached his house, and the group pulled into a huddle to discuss the day’s proceedings. “So what’s the plan for dealin’ with the mutant nerds today?” Stephen asked as the group turned their eyes to their crimson haired leader.

Johnny took a deep breath.

“Nothin’.” “WHAT?!” Ollie and Stephen cried in unison.

“We’ve been goin’ over this for too long and we’re clearly gettin’ a little burned out. I had ta force ya to sleep yesterday, Stephen, and the rest of us weren’t much better. So this is gonna be our day off. No thinkin’ about weirdo flyin’ people, or shootin’ lightning, or purple gunk. It’s just gonna be us an’ the snow. Tomorra’ we’ll look over everythin’ with fresh faces an’ we’ll get all the info we need outta the nerds. Today…” He threw his arms out, inviting the rest to take in the white wonderment surrounding them.

“Today we make the biggest ball of death this town has ever seen!” If the fire in the group’s eyes could leave their ocular prisons, there would be no snow left.

“YEAH!” Stephen whooped. “We setting it loose on Wicker Road again?” “Can we please not push the whole thing uphill like last year?” Ollie said through his smile, knowing his plea would be futile.

Purple gunk? came the message from RJ’s phone. Their leader’s eyes flicked to it for a second, before sliding to the side, as if unsure. Within an instant the phone was put away and the message forgotten, his wide grin returning and the flare in his eyes reigniting.

“Trust me, it’s gonna be the biggest and best ball we’ve done yet! NOW LET’S GET TO IT!” “YEAH!!” the others shouted, and the four took off to mold doom from the innocent fluff.

---

After ten minutes, the Jang regrouped to see the fruits of their labor and to pick a starting ball. Stephen’s ball, barely bigger than the palm of his hand, was the smallest of the lot. He attributed this to thinking he had found Mothman prints, but closer inspection had just revealed them to be raccoon tracks. Johnny tried to move his ball a little more and groaned when it fell apart in his hands. Ollie’s was bigger than the rest, but rebelled against its circular bretheren by taking the shape of a football. RJ’s ball was the roundest of the four, if a little on the smaller side. The group set RJ’s ball off to the side, and held somber eulogies for the other failed balls.

The subsequent pummeling back into the powder they were born from was markedly less somber.

The beginnings of the Deadly Doom Ball of Ultimate Destruction (named by Stephen) were humble, as the small orb graciously munched the snow laying neatly behind Johnny’s house. Its appetite grew with its size; by the time it devoured the last white flakes daring to exist in Johnny’s backyard, it reached RJ’s torso. The desecration of snow spread as the ball, now guided by two pairs of hands, absorbed the fallen flakes lying beside the sidewalk, making its way up the street.

“So,” Ollie said, turning to stare at Johnny, who was eyeing the path ahead for obstacles, “we taking it to the Usual Spot, or somewhere new?” “Can we not do the steepest hill again? That was so disappointing,” Stephen said, remembering how the previous year’s ball went only a few feet before cracking in half.

“Yeah, pushing that thing up there was a nightmare,” Ollie added, reminiscing on the four of them desperately digging into the snow with their backs to the ball, taking victory in inches.

“Nah, we’re gonna go partways up t’ the school and run it down the road!” Johnny cried out.

“Ngh..I really hope it doesn’t break this time,” Stephen huffed.

The four continued up the street, the ball greedily adding to its mass as they huffed and chatted about things such as potential fort designs and seeing how many snowballs they could throw into Jeff’s hair.

---

As the Corner Store came into view, a sniffle caught Johnny’s attention, and he turned to examine his pals. With his red nose and cheeks, Ollie looked like he had just walked out of a Christmas card, his face as puffy as his jacket. Stephen wasn’t much better, trying to hide his shuddering beneath his grape scarf and Jersey Devil jersey, and RJ kept rubbing their face with their sleeve. The small sneeze from RJ cinched it. “A’right, detour time. We get this ball to the store and then we get ourselves some goodies. Stephen, you still got that ten dollar bill in your pocket?” “Yep.” “Cool. You three go in and get yerselves some’n warm, an’ I’ll guard the ball.” The bully bunch made it to the edge of the store’s door in due time. Stephen, Ollie, and RJ dashed into the store, eager for something warm to slide down their gullets.

“Ho ho, little elves!” cried the wiry shopkeeper as he slid onto the countertop, decked in green and jingling bells. “What can I do you for, on your fine detour from Santa’s Shop?”

“Got anything warm?” Ollie asked as he tried and marginally succeeded at preventing Stephen from ransacking the isles.

The spark in the man’s eyes immediately threw this decision into question. As the green elf declared that he had just the thing and dashed up the stairs, the boy wondered what he just got them all into.

He barely had time to ponder calling for Johnny when the man returned, arms full of small packets, the lid of a small pan, and a coffee pot filled with piping hot...water? Before Ollie could say anything, the man had already ripped the small packets into pieces with his teeth, scattering the dust-colored powder into the pot. He then leapt onto the counter with a flourish, slammed the pan lid onto the pot with a clank!, and began to twirl. The pot quickly frothed with a chocolate swirl as he spun and spun, giggling manically all the while.

Ollie couldn’t figure out when the snowman-adored styrofoam cups had manifested onto the counter, or when exactly the other two had joined him, and at this point he was almost afraid to question it.

The three stared in a mix of bewilderment and awe as the shopkeeper slid backwards, filling each cup to the brim with small dips and pivots. He then threw himself backwards, his face underneath Ollie’s chin. “That’s three for five dollars, or four for seven,” he said without skipping a beat.

“Four, please,” Ollie said, at a loss for anything else to say.

Money changed hands, another batch was poured for Johnny, conversations about agents of Krampus were held, and the three turned to head out the door with the warmth in their gut once again matching the fire in their hearts. Their eyes caught glimpse of the new kid, his jaw set tight and his face as red as theirs were upon entering, although perhaps for different reasons.

Their gazes met. Seconds went by as the group and the nerd stared each other down, Max’s bewilderment fading back into his usual snarky look as he entertained their glares.

Wordlessly, the three turned and headed out the door, finding their fourth member with his back to them, staring at their not-so-little orb of doom.

“Yo bro, you’re not gonna believe what just happened in there!” Stephen called out to Johnny. The bully swirled around, and for a second the three glimpsed his mouth hanging askew, eyes wide with pinpoint pupils, face a touch paler than when they went in. Then his gaze darted from their faces to the cups in their hands, and he relaxed, his hand reaching for his share. With flailing arms and just a tad exaggeration, Stephen shared the details of the shopkeeper as the rest sipped their cocoa.

“And as we left, we fell upon the mutant new kid! I think that store guy did some kinda psychic damage to him ‘cuz he looked totally freaked out.” As if on cue, Max groan from inside the store fell upon their ears.

“We let him off though, ‘cuz of the pact.” “Mmm.” “Then he talked to Stephen for like ten minutes about Krampus and Santa’s secret ninja squad. Had to practically pry him out of the store,” Ollie added.

RJ pulled out their phone and showed them the image they got of the clerk, caught in a perfect backslide, the delicious liquid forever frozen halfway into its destination. The group oohed and aahed at their friend’s impeccable ability to take super clear shots with a little flip phone camera.

With a few more gulps of their cocoa and a desire to finish the rest on the way up, the bullies repositioned themselves and resumed their slow ascent to the top of the hill. RJ spared a glance at Johnny, who was staring daggers at the ball.

Johnny, in the meantime, put all of his focus on the conversations of his friends and on making sure the ball didn’t go off course.

He was not gonna mention the weird hissing that started when they got near that store.

He wasn’t gonna mention the purple thing that had taken an interest in the ball.

He wasn’t gonna think about how the purple thing had a human face and a child’s voice.

He definitely wasn’t gonna think about how all of that just disappeared right as the purple thing looked at him, as if it was never there, right in front of him.

He had made a pact with his buds and he was gonna keep it.

No weird mutant stuff today.

---

Pushing an ever-growing snowball up one of Mayview’s hills with only one hand quickly proved more difficult than expected. Ollie found it easier to lean into the mound with his shoulders providing leverage. RJ and Stephen followed suit, guzzling down the last of their now nearly lukewarm beverage and jamming the empty cups into their jacket pockets. Johnny, having chugged down his cocoa at the urging of his friends, merely rammed his entire frame into the ball. The slow rate of movement up the hill was matched by its growth, though by this point it had begun to dwarf its creators. By the time Johnny mentioned that he could see the school, it had overgrown Ollie by half a foot. Muscles strained and groans and grunts abounded as their fight against gravity reached its zenith. With one last shout from the children, the damned, doomed sphere nestled itself peacefully on the level footing of the school pavement.

The Jang locked eyes on each other, whooped, raised their fists triumphantly in the air, and promptly leaned on each other for support. As breath was sucked down their lungs and muscles left to rest for the first time in hours, the bullies gazed at their creation.

“She’s beautiful, guys.” Stephen said.

“She’s bigger than last years for sure,” Johnny beamed.

“...I don’t think what we just did is reasonably possible.” Ollie said, “and I don’t care.” “YEAH, physics is for WIMPS and NERDS and she doesn’t even have any lunch money!” “Physics is why pushing this thing back down is satisfying at all, Stephen.” “OI!” Johnny called out. “Getchur butts round Deathknell Mk. II! RJ wants a pic!” “Aww, that wasn’t what I called it earlier!” Stephen called out as he ran into position. So it was that a snapshot became immortalized (using Ollie’s phone, as it had a wider screen and a timer) of the four youths, burning cheeks accentuating beaming grins around their carefully cultivated sphere of chaos, Ollie’s one hand slung as high up on the ball as it could go. This was soon followed by pictures of each of them perched atop the ball mid-manic cackle, of Stephen splayed across the top frozen in triumphant shouting, of the group split into stacked pairs on both sides miming a struggle, and many more.

At last, after each photo was evaluated and deemed acceptable, the moment arrived. With more grunts and heaves, Deathknell Mk. II took position in the center of the road, adopting bits of gravel as it went.

“THREE!” came the cry as the ball inched forward.

“TWO!” came the shouts as the slope drew nearer.

“ONE!” came the call as the ball perched on the last few bits of level ground its front end had.

“GOOOOO!!!” With one last running shove and a cry, the obliteration orb teetered..

and tilted…

and slowly slid forward.

As momentum took hold, all caution was thrown to the wind as the deadly orb rocketed down the slope. Trees and buildings flew by as it claimed the hill as its own, tiny smushed white packets on the pavement the only sign it was there. The boys and RJ, with cold-kissed hands desperately clutching onto hoods and hats in the wake of the creation’s tailwind, could scarcely hope to keep up with its joyride as it spun down the hill with the pitter-patter of an army of spiders. It whizzed past the Corner Store in seconds, blew the soft covering of snow off the nearby oak and elm branches, turned slightly to the side as it neared the lower residential areas and chose what would be the bearer of its wrath.

A godawful scrunching brought the ball to a stop, and as the Jang neared it, their jaws fell open and their whoops died in their throat as they drank in the scene.

There at the curbside sat a jet-black SUV, toppled onto its side, buried on all fronts by piles of stone-colored, gravel-filled, leaf accented snow. Its side could hardly be called that now, crumpled and twisted into a metallic sinkhole and probably what Ms. Baxter would call “concave”; one would think an elephant had T-boned it. The lamppost behind it lurched forward with a broken spine, its light shining over the body in fits and spurts over the fresh body, as close to wincing as it could get. A wheel, badly misshapen and hissing something awful, fell into the mound with a plunk.

“I-is that…” Ollie started. “Principal Pleezdo’s car!” Stephen cried in shock, his mittens at the sides of his head.

The house beside them began to wail, a spine-tingling siren that wouldn’t be half-bad as an air raid warning.

“RUN!!!” Johnny screamed, and the bullies hurriedly scrambled as fast as their legs would carry them away from the crime scene, through slush and streets and powdered panic, eager to relive their revelry in the safety of Stephen’s living room.

[reikhafaara]

prompt #10 - avail

Reikh’a glances down at the crystal wine glass in his hand with a small frown. The ruby red liquid within is enticing in appearance, sure, but he can already tell from the smell alone that it’s not what he’s looking for. With a quiet hum he swirls the wine in the glass, watching the small tornado that forms within until it peters out, then repeating the process once more. 

Despite spending five years here in the first, he’s never seen this vintage before. Lyna tells him it’s local—a Lakeland product lost to the flood, rediscovered only now that Me’wo has returned the night and cleared the sin eaters out of the castle where it was stored. They’d found a cask close to where they’d slain Philia, and Thancred had suggested they bring it to the Crystarium. A bit of joy in an otherwise bleak situation.

Reikh’a had been somewhat hopeful of this vintage, if only for the novelty. He’s given up wondering how it’s possible for him to have tasted it before long ago, has settled on it being one of the many oddities in his life since he became a Warrior of Light. He’d simply woken up one day with the taste of a complex, sweet wine on his tongue, and despite his best efforts, he has yet to find it’s name. 

But the smell of this is wrong, or so he thinks. He swirls the glass once more, tilting his head to watch the fragments of ruby red light dance on the tabletop, the fire within their room fireplace illuminating the beverage from behind. He suspects it won’t be sweet enough, or otherwise strong enough. 

Only one way to find out. He sips the wine slowly, as if he means to savor it, rolling the liquid over his tongue before swallowing it with a small sigh. 

“Nope,” he says, to himself—Me’wo has gone to the Ocular, to discuss something or other about the Lightwarden, and so he is alone in his experimentation. 

Or so he thinks.

“You’ll never find it.”

Emet-Selch slips from the shadows as if he was born into them, made a part of them. One moment Reikh’a is alone, and the next he’s facing his unexpected—and unwanted—visitor, a quiet curse on his tongue. 

“What do you want,” Reikh’a says, narrowing his eyes. Me’wo seems to think there’s no reason to fight Emet-Selch, not yet, and so Reikh’a doesn’t; but he is wary all the same, hand hovering over the knife in his belt, ears flat and teeth bared. 

Emet-Selch shrugs. “I was bored.”

The other man crosses the room to Reikh’a’s side with practiced confidence and grace, royalty through and through. With a huff he plucks the wine glass from Reikh’a’s fingers, bringing the crystal goblet close to his nose, briefly, before sighing somewhat wistfully. 

“Not sweet enough,” he proclaims, handing it back and turning away. “A pale substitute for the real thing.”

“How do you know,” Reikh’a says, meaning how does Emet-Selch know anything, really. The man’s cryptic words and half-answers annoy him, if only because Reikh’a doesn’t understand half of what he says.

“I’ve looked.”

And then he’s gone, a swirl of black and red slowly dispersing around Reikh’a in his wake. The Miqo’te blinks, slowly, at his retreating form, frowning down at the glass of wine in his hand. 

How had he known?

Reikh’a downs the glass with a sigh. 

He’d been right, of course—

It’s far too dry.

[knithacker]

It's An Ornery Octo-Ocular Ornithological Oddity! 👉 https://wp.me/pjlln-Rx

[dvvouring-blog]

@hyrulebeauty​

fingers pulled at his lower eyelid, as if exposing more of his hell-borne red eye would change some aspect of it, as he leaned closer still to the mirror above the bathroom sink. he didn’t love what he saw, the 三 kanji where a normal person’s pupil would be; obviously, the oddity of his eye was not a problem. in fact, it was that his eye was not odd enough, try as he might to switch paths, the realm of beasts stared back at him stalwartly.

“coyotes were last life,” he complained to himself. “i am sick of coyotes.”

he had suspected upon finding an empty condominium and a total of four rooms that he should be expecting company, so his hackles didn’t raise at the sound of another denizen in the shared living space. might as well play nice, hm?

giving up on his ocular examination with a sigh, he rounded the corner to the living room in the pleasant ( but certainly not fantastic ) accommodation, offering a cursory smile to the uniquely-dressed blonde woman he found there.

“hello, dear. i don’t suppose you’ve seen a gun around? i like to keep one in case of emergencies, and it would be just a delight to have.”

[nikkoleon]

How many people know about Piper's ocular oddity, outside of friends (or enemies I guess)? Also, what exactly does he, y'know, do? Like, for the Foundation?

Basically everyone he works with knows. Though he’s not showing it off, he doesn’t really keep it a secret, either. It’s just a normal thing and he’ll show anyone interested.

As for his job, it’s still a work in progress, but he’s level 4.

[fang-fr]

elemental oddities Phoenix, Betnikh, and Rift

“All eggs are imbued with a little magic, but sometimes, there’s a weak point in the shell or the nest experiences prolonged exposure to elemental magic. When this happens, the embryo inside is either destroyed, or very rarely, it absorbs the excess power. If the latter happens, the embryo will mutate in the regions most susceptible to magical influence. All of these body parts are internal, except for the eyes. An affected dragon’s ocular cavity (one, or more often, both) becomes permanently warped by the excess magic. There is no cure or treatment, save for divine intervention, although such miracles can be hard to come by.”

-Excerpt from Ocular Mutations and Irregularities: A Comprehensive Guide, by Fang, Chief Archivist of the Moondoll Coven

[stroblitz]

More monster boys~ They go with Oni Takao and that story :D

Kenny and Garland both have glamour illusion spells on them to hide their ocular oddities. When Kenny has his hair down and glasses on it ‘tricks’ non-magical people into thinking he’s normal. Those who are magic/mythical can tell something is off but won’t really know unless he shows them. Garland’s is more powerful and simple. He closes his third eye and it disappears ;D The bindi ‘seals’ it so not even magical beings can tell. It can grant him the ability to see the future but only a few seconds in advance most of the time. Handy in a fight, not so much to get the winning lottery numbers. Also yes, Kai is not a demon. Due to meddling all his life from Voltaire and Balkov he is something unseen in this world. A phoenix in human form. Sort of. His blood is incredibly potent in magic and can grant a long life and perfect health. He also has magical powers he has no idea about and can’t control.

Day 17 of BeyArMaMo

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