#oh pallas

[cream-and-tea]

nightmare, secret, and wound for the character(s) you think have the most interesting answers!!!

~Morri (@memento-morri-writes)

Not Nice ask game here! (all of these questions are pallasbait so i’m going to get that out of my system and answer all three for them lol)

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

pallas has a pretty messy relationship with the concept of sleeping in the same way that they have a pretty messy relationship with most Basic Human Needs, so they really only sleep when they absolutely cannot stay awake any longer. but if i’m being honest they’ve repressed everything they could have nightmares about SO hard that they don’t really have bad dreams and if they do they don’t remember them when they wake up. they do have one extended nightmare sequence in the book as i’ve planned it but that happens when they’re actively bleeding out + their entire worldview is crumbling, so it’s really a way to show the way all of their Repression Level 5000 Mental Blocks have started to break down lol

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

this is kinda hard to answer because pallas hate hate haaaaates being Perceived in any meaningful capacity, so their view of what counts as “secret” is massively skewed lol. if they had their way no one would be able to access any information about them without going through a fifty step vetting process and a blood oath binding them to never repeat any of it (which isn’t to far off from what they actually do tbh).

apart from one Super Huge Spoiler Thing i think the thing that pallas wouldn’t want ANYONE to know is that they aren’t anywhere NEAR as secure in themself/their position as everyone thinks. they put a lot of effort into coming across as Cool and Detached and Cruel, so to have anyone see past that would be absolutely devastating. because if someone could look and see how much what pallas does is eating them alive they might try to question it and bring them out of it and force them to—GOD forbid—self reflect for once. they’ll take hatred and fear over pity any day.

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

heyyyyy character i have with the highest pain tolerance!!!! super powerful bloodflesh magic + incredibly taxing training (to put it mildly) + intense healing factor + functional immortality will do that to you!! due to uhhhhh All Of That pallas’s general response to being wounded is to walk that shit off unless it’s directly preventing them from completing their mission, which is a pretty high threshold. you know that they’re my specialist little guy because they’re constantly being battered physically mentally AND emotionally through the whole story. just put through the absolute ringer. it’s actually kind of hard to choose a worst one bc of that, but i’m gonna say that worst emotional/mental wound happened a year before the start of the book when their best friend nina Died supersuper hard and worst physical wound happens in book two when [REDACTED] [REDCATED]’s them ❤️

[autisticandroids]

FAMINE: That's one deep, dark nothing you've got there, Dean.

[youtube with closed captions]

dean and his father. dean and his family. dean and how bad it is.

(via @closetoyou1970)

[crownedinmarigolds]

For @tzimizce's Palla Grande Event! Kingslayers. "Freya" she's called but her true name has been long lost to time. Since birth she had been haunted by strange visions and whispers - and when her advice was heeded the village prospered. She was a beloved member of their society and for a time all was well. The eventual southern invaders however found her communications with the beyond blasphemous, and attempted to kill her in the name of God and King. Thanks to a passing Malkavian, she was Embraced before her demise, and she fought back against the invading force near on her own - but had to be banished from her village for the living's own good. Kings. What's a king in the eyes of that which we cannot see? Little people trying to put reins on forces of chaos of which we cannot comprehend. Freya has no patience for anyone who would wear a crown, and in her pack, she is the sword that strikes any little Prince who thinks they can try and put her down.

[p1nk-pallas]

homophobic elijah volkov (yes that's actually the VA)

[foxholeprince]

They were taking the best of their soldiers:

- Jord of the short sword 🗡️

- Lydos of the trident 🔱

- Aktis of the spear 🏹

- Pallas, who was triple-crowned 👑

- Lazar, who whistled at Pallas 😮‍💨

Lazar:

[kai-does-some-art]

Happy Manul Monday- OH SHIT WATCH OUT

(thread with prev. manul mondays here)

[shoujo--rei]

petition to replace scissoring with chainsawing? and given that the petition is successful which it will be, is it not lesbophobic that there’s no chainsaw emoji?

every day i wake up and fine beautiful poetry in my askbox

[voidedjuice]

The new Pallas skin is so funny to me

[wintry--mix]

I entered art fight last year and for some reason said absolutely nothing about it here, and thus I’m here to make up for it this year :) filler post GO

In the process of making refs for the probably-way-too-many new OCs I’ve made since last year, I thought it would be fun to make these lil memes with them! (Even if the more unique icons I might make for em haven’t been made yet) However, this is gonna be a LOT of ocs to tag (and it’ll be especially long if I’m IDing them by space in the grid) so uhh here we go (under the cut though for previously mentioned reasons)

OCs:

I demand attention and kisses bc I exist - Kiki (he/him (?))

I need medical help because I exist - Ed (he/him)

I’m going to try to hide the fact that I exist - Clara (she/her)

I demand attention and kisses bc I caught a cold - Violet (she/they)

I need medical help because I caught a cold - Hyacinth (he/they)

I’m going to try to hide the fact that I caught a cold - Jet (he/him) (OH AND PS. He got into a tournament, will RB something from it later)

I demand attention and kisses bc I got a stab would - Liz (she/her)

I need medical help because I got a stab would - Suha (she/her)

I’m going to try to hide the fact that I got a stab would - Marella (she/her)

Ok so I’m lonely - Pallas (he/him)

Please help me I’m lonely - Saber (he/him)

I can’t talk rn, I’m lonely - Odyssey (she/it)

Ok so I’m hungry - Momo (she/her)

Please help me I’m hungry - Tyche (she/her)

I can’t talk rn, I’m hungry - Callie (she/her), note that I already entered her last year but I brought her into the second one bc I was running out of new guys

Ok so I hate you - Maki (she/her)

Please help me I hate you - Kitsune (she/her)

I can’t talk rn, I hate you - Roman (he/him)

[animalpetcel]

Aaaaah why

I can’t even go further because I promised myself that I would stop at the first 6* (even if I got them during free pulls, as shown above) because Degenbrecher, Zuo Le and R6S are a higher priority for me

But why didn’t it have to be Nearl

Virtuosa would have been fun

And Viviana is at least pretty

Nearl was like my least favorite event, limited and female character (actually I probably dislike Suzuran more that Nearl but I will forever be disappointed on how Blemishine got nothing post her own event so Mylnar and Nearl will always be on my hit list)

I could have gotten Skalter finally (since I’m tired of high end guides that actually need her and not just a medic)…I’d have even accepted Texalter (might not be a fan of her kit but her event really helped make her more interesting in my mind now that I know her background)

[darknymfa]

Some kitty pictures from the zoo today. Didn't see the (new!) snow leopard unfortunately, but the clouded leopard was also very cute. The Pallas cats was also new (for me, at least) and a lot easier to spot (and also upset because there were birds walking around).

[cream-and-tea]

oh man the judge/calliope and pallas&agnes thoughts are really eating holes in my brain tonight,,,,,,

[kc5rings]

Hi sorry I'm new here please tell me about Perfumer

For her I think scent kink, domination and aphrodisiacs are the big ones. I also think she privately enjoys applying her skills to the creation of such aphrodisiacs for her personal use or for trusted friends. And has repeatedly denied Closure’s requests to mass produce them for profit lol.

Also I gotta say, I already liked Perfumer a bit before getting this ask, but in reading more about her she has shot up my list of operators. She has a mean/teasing streak I didn’t expect! It’s really fun to see that at play with her more up front nurturing/sisterly behavior. I also learned that there is one operator in particular that brings out that other side to Lens better than anyone.

Lena gave the lead wrapped around her fist a firm tug, not long ago this would have been followed immediately by the sounds of stumbling and a string of accented Victorian expletives, but now it only elicited a huff and a slight adjustment of pace.

Lena allowed herself a bit of a smug grin at the show of progress as she walked through a soon to be freshly plowed field far on the edge of the garden. Cultivation truly was her greatest passion, wether it was an unruly plant trimmed back and potted just so…

Or a spirited and stubborn woman in need of a firm hand.

Reaching the edge of the field Lena turned to face her charge for the evening. Operator Bagpipe, and behind her, a heavy steel plough, steadily gouging into the hard packed earth of a new field with Bagpipes every step.

Lena would forgive anyone not recognizing her like this, only her horns and the vibrant shock of red from her hair identified her as the boisterous vouivre operator, and even that was meticulously braided into a thick rope down her back, instead of flying free in its usual wild mane about her head.

Horns and hair aside, the rest of Bagpipes face was obscured by a thick leather hood, it’s only openings being two breathing holes for the nose and one for her mouth, though a thick muzzle concealed her lower face and left the nose holes her only sensory connection to the outside world. Topping it all off was a harness that wove around even her horns, keeping everything in place.

The rest of her body was no less adorned, torso draped in a sturdy harness, arms folded out of the way behind her back in thick leather restraints and finally boots that rose to the thigh and lacked a heel, all her weight instead supported by real steel horseshoes riveted to the bottom of the boots. The entire ensemble a mix of soft browns and greens as per Lena’s preferences.

Add in the thick cables that connected the head and body harnesses back to the heavy steel plough and Bagpipe made the very picture of well outfitted burdenbeast.

As Bagpipe reached the edge of the field Lena slid a glass vial from a holster on her hip, fingers brushing the handle of a whip coiled there as well, made of matching leather matching Bagpipes tack. She wondered if she’d have cause to use it this evening, Pallas had been gracious enough to instruct her in its use when asked and Lena would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the application of those lessons.

For now though, her burdenbeast was behaving wonderfully and that called for the carrot not the stick. As she popped the top on the vial and held it up to waft under Bagpipes nose, watching labored breathing become a deep inhale accompanied by a full body shudder, Lena thought back to the beginning of this arrangement.

It had started as a joke, or if Lena was being more honest, an argument.

“Operator Bagpipe. I am telling you /again/ that new equipment on that scale is /not/ in The Garden’s budget right now, you will have to make due with refitting what we have.”

This was becoming an all too familiar scene, interior of Lena’s greenhouse turned office and lodgings, the perfumer pinching the bridge of her nose and the ever irrepressible Bagpipe across from her making the case for the Convalescence Garden to request funds for a new tractor.

Again.

“Come on Nena, give a girl some rope here. What we’ve got gets the job done but it takes an age and a half, at the very least we could do with replacing the engine.”

Bagpipe leaned on Lena’s desk, putting on a truly impressive display of puppy dog eyes that in the end did little to penetrate Lena’s calm exterior. Given how long they had been seeing each other Lena had built up quiet a tolerance against this particular tactic, and as much as she enjoyed Bagpipes company outside of work, the garden was her pride and joy. She took proving that it was an asset to Rhodes and not a money sink very seriously.

“I’m on my knees here, the state of those things right now I’d get the work done faster pulling the plough myself.”

Whereas the pleading eyes that could shake even Miss Skamandros’ resolve had failed, something about Bagpipes grousing struck a chord in Lena. She leaned forward, her face suddenly inches in front of Bagpipe’s

“Would you now? Can you guarantee that Operator Bagpipe?”

To her credit, Bagpipe didn’t back up, though she did visibly swallow, Lena was so close now and as always, smelt so good…

Bagpipe recognized that shift in Lena’s tone, the one that promised good but strenuous things in her immediate future. Serene and caring as her demeanor usually was, Bagpipe had come to understand that Lena had a very different side to her at times, one that Bagpipe in particular seemed to draw out of her.

“W-well, I mean I might be able to.. but it was really just an expression you know I-“

Lena cut off Bagpipe’s stammering with a finger to her lips, keeping it there for a moment as she spoke, to ensure she had Bagpipes attention.

“Every time you’ve come in to ask for a new tractor you have been unable to provide me with a suitable compromise between your desire to tend the fields faster and my desire to ensure the garden can afford to keep running smoothly… until today.”

Letting her finger drop Lena glanced at her terminal, nodding as she confirmed that she had no appointments for therapy this evening.

“Now, I have no shortage of other tasks to see to today, as do you. But if you would like to pursue this proposal of yours, meet me back here this evening and we will discuss it in detail.”

That day was months passed now, and Bagpipes “proposal” had become a sort of ritual between them. It always played out the same way, if her schedule was free enough and the mood struck, Lena would dab on a few drops of a very specific scent, and if Bagpipe responded, Podenco and the rest would be let go early for the day and the garden would be closed for a “private training session” that evening. It was one of the rare indulgences Lena allowed herself and after all, it was good for the garden.

Everything bagpipe wore was custom made, but the hood in particular had been crafted to Lena’s exact specifications, with some help from Pallas, the clever lacing that allowed it to accommodate horns had been her doing.

More importantly though, was the padding over the ears and eyes inside. Lena wanted Bagpipes attention focused solely on the lead attached to her harness, and her sense of smell.

Muffled by layers of leather, loan moans began to reach Lena’s ears as the cocktail of heady scents and aphrodisiacs did its work, amplified manyfold by lack of any other sensory input. Keeping the vial steady with one hand, Lena leaned into Bagpipe as her free hand began to wander lower.

Bagpipes body was as sturdy as her much vaunted stamina would lead you to expect, and even compromised as she was Lena’s weight against her proved no challenge at all. For Lena, this made it all the more satisfying when those strong legs nearly buckled as her fingers pressed into Bagpipe, the ease with which she slid inside proof of how potent her latest batch was.

Working into a steady rhythm it took almost no time at all for Bagpipes low moans to become muffled pleas and desperate gasps, each breath in fueling the fire that Lena stoked expertly stoked with nimble fingers. She knew every way Bagpipe loved to be touched and was merciless in applying said knowledge.

Leather creaked as finally, Bagpipes body went ridged, muscles clenched as she desperately fought to stay standing as her climax crashed over her, Lena’s touch drawing it out over long aftershocks that left Bagpipe breathless and shaking.

But. She was still standing.

Thumbing the top of the vial shut Lena slid it back into its holster before reaching up to unbuckle one side of Bagpipes muzzle. It took no encouraging as slick fingers rose to Bagpipes now free lips, dutifully leaning forward to take them in her mouth and clean them the second her own familiar scent hit her nose, just as Lena had trained her.

Only once they were thoroughly clean did Bagpipe straighten back up, her breathing slowly normalizing even as her mouth still hung slightly open, making it very simple for Lena to reach up and press the tip of a water bottle passed Bagpipes lips, controlling the angle to ensure she drank slowly and steadily.

While Bagpipe drank her fill, Lena indulged herself, leaning in to the crook of Bagpipes neck and taking a deep breath, savoring and analyzing the notes of salt, freshly turned earth, leather and Bagpipes own unique scent, before pressing the cool glass of an empty vial against her neck to collect and store a sample that would form the base of the very scent Lena had trained Bagpipe to respond to. The same one that always signaled the beginning of one of their nights together like this.

“Well done, my fair and strong Akamatos.”

Lena took up the lead and, reasoning that her burdenbeast had been given ample time to collect herself, began tugging her along once more. Bagpipe given no choice, and having no inclination, but to dutifully follow, footsteps heavy but still in the perfect stride she had been trained in. Lena, for her part, felt lighter than she had in weeks.

“Only 3 fields left to go.”

[latinthusiast]

haec ubi deflevit, tolli miserabile corpus imperat, et toto lectos ex agmine mittit mille viros qui supremum comitentur honorem intersintque patris lacrimis, solacia luctus exigua ingentis, misero sed debita patri. (Vergil, Aeneid 11.58-62)

When he has mourned these things, he orders the pitiful body to be moved, and he sends a thousand men chosen from the whole battle-line to accompany that final honor and be among the tears of his father, a meager consolation for a huge loss, but one owed to the heartbroken father.

[nosongunsung11]

!!

rng said 15, that's Mara from Darkling Deeps!! teds I think the generator knows what your favorite project of mine is lkajdsf (shoutout to this old mara doodle for permanently making me a lineless artist)

[Image ID: a woman with tan skin and thick curly brown hair wearing a blue wetsuit with gold accents under a tan oilskin coat with long coattails that is belted across the chest. her hands are on her hips and she has a confident smile.]

Name: Mara (bitter)

Pronouns: she/her

Origin: Darkling Deeps again! Novel about six guys on an abandoned planet hunting giant sea monsters illegally; most of them die or leave changed.

Mara's archetype is the Warrior; she's the ship's gunner and has very little sympathy for the creatures they kill for money; she means well, but tends to unknowingly hurt her adopted twin brother Thomas because their world views are fundamentally different. She's in this trade because she was Born Here; she's one of the very few people that were raised on the planet's only settlement, and she grew up sleeping on the streets with Thomas. For her the ocean is home; it's never really occurred to her that her trade is unusual, and she tends to view people like Jonah who dislike it as being a bit ridiculous. Despite all odds, she's the book's Final Girl.

She becomes very close to Liz, the ship's navigator, before Liz's death at the end of act ii, and carries her book (scientific research on the planet and it's species) with her for the rest of the novel. She will eventually publish it, after surviving and getting off-planet, and dedicates herself to keeping the crew's memory alive.

[loiyaltie]

his brother has every right to despise him, did he not garner the favour of the world while his brother rotted in the shadows, their father’s tactic to remove them from each other, to allow one to prosper, despite the suffering he endure and the other to represent him, as a sacrifice, in the end - was this not what their father deserved. Gepard glances up, hearing the other’s footfalls before they step out of the shadows, through the shattered windows silver moonlight sprays across the floor, shards of glass glistening. he had come here - did he believe he would be understood ? that with their father’s blood still drying on his hands that his brother would not recoil from him. Gepard’s eyes, once warm brooks teeming with vitality, look vacuous and exhausted, everything had been drained from him in that one, violent crescendo, the come down had been devastating. “ i didn’t know where else to go.” he said, almost helplessly, as woefully so as he had been as a child. “ I should have sent a message - something ahead of time.” ( a late ask <3 )

"Too late for that."

The blunt words come coupled with a brutality, one fostered in hardship and isolation, the consequence of separation from the world. When he had been cast below and refused right to the glisten of sunlight dancing across the snow plains, he had festered in the dark, that which had once made him joyous and engaging whittled away by hardship and the increasing awareness of his discarding. Left like a toy no longer necessary, broken in the Underworld with nought but the one staff member deigned to care for him till he came of age.

Pallas learnt the grim reality of the Landau world before he had reached the prime of adulthood. His days of youth vanquished in Fragmentum and Geomarrow and the increasing knowledge that he had been cast away, the spare part of the family portrait.

Cobalt hues study his mirror image and his lips curl, wondering why the fractures are so obvious, why in Gepard he can now see the shattered fragments being pieced together, unmasked by the actions undertaken. "Looks like you had a rough night..." Observation cast, he begins to piece together the clues, the dried blood and hollowed stare. The regression to someone he might almost deem familiar.

He sees now that this may require a delicacy that he has long since lost. Serval would be better for it, Lynx even. Pallas does not know what it is to be gentle, his edges sharpened and honed for a world in which he had not belonged. The target to blame when the Overworld closed its doors and stole away what little resources the people had. There was no space for gentle when the crowds came to his door, when he had been chased from the last shelter held and persecuted as the scapegoat for understandable rage. Still, he can try. He can pull the little remains of his heart back into place for the one he was stolen from, his other half.

"Tell me what happened... mission report style, just give me the facts..." He steps closer, narrowing the space and presses a hand against cheek, an anchoring line, drawing the other back to him. There is no horror he cannot endure, just as Gepard is the bastion of the battlefield, and he is the stockade, the enduring force that lingers in the depths, able to continue no matter what the situation. He's had to be.

"We will deal with it. Trust in me, Gep..." ( @fortifice )