#ottobiography

[randombubblegum]

i haven't read aws' book but your tages on the skateboarding gif made me wonder how much he talks about otto in it and what he says #awtto4lyfe

HE TALKS ABOUT OTTO SOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH HERE ILL POST THE PASSAGE IM TALKING ABOUT FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE

#awtto4lyfe

[aro-throughyourchest]

JACK: *laying awake at 12 am* If a guy is named Otto, and he writes a story about his life, is that his Ottobiography?

BILLY:

BILLY: *sits up in bed* I will pay you to stop talking.

-

CLIFF: If a lady named Mim writes one, is it her Mim-oir?

BILLY: *throws his pillow across the room* SHUT THE FUCK-

[zerokiller1628]

Otto Von Bismarck missed out by not calling his book “An Ottobiography”

[babblish]

😅- a line that made you feel second hand embarrassment

Oh my god, the one that probably causes me the most second hand embarrassment was Otto's rant in The White Rabbit. This entire paragraph makes me want to pull out my hair to this day.

Under the Sun — Part One: The White Rabbit, Chapter 11 Berlin Headquarters. Under the cut because 1) spoilers, and 2) mortifying things to yell in public

Scaarbach marched up to Kozlóv and spat in his general direction, “Sasha! How dare you? How dare you! You made a promise to me and here I find you stabbed me in the back! It’s bad enough that you told everyone how I warmed your bed! I only did that because you’re my superior and it was below freezing! But how is it that I heard from two other changelings lies about my actions? That I shat myself when I tried to kill Velima? What’s wrong with you? That is the kind of slanderous lie an egg would tell! Do you have any idea what you have done to my reputation?” At that point, he didn’t even care that people could overhear his words.

[babblish]

Slides over a piece of paper with "meeting the witch"

Thanks for your prompt reply, and Oooooooo excellent choice.

Ottobiography; Daughters of Magic - Meeting the Witch

Context; It's the mid to late 19th Century and Scaarbach is working as the music instructor for his changeling protege, Freya. Frau Auguste is her familiar's aunt, Eugenie her familiar's cousin. Scaarbach finds himself lured to their location in the dead of night.

Auguste nodded, a strange expression on her face, “I’m pleased you came, the rite isn’t the same without someone like you.”

“What do you mean ‘someone like me,’ my lady?” Scaarbach asked.

Auguste bowed her head and walked a careful circle around him, “There is… fire in you, I’ve heard it in your music, I can see it in your eyes. It will serve my rite well.”

“What rite?” Scaarbach demanded, taking a step back.

Auguste smiled knowingly “You will see,” she replied as she slowly spun on her heels, bending back so as that her long hair grazed upon the stone flooring beneath them. She raised her hands into the air imploringly, twisting her wrists and splaying her fingers as though she reached into luxuriant watery depths. A hum filled Scaarbach’s soul as the two witches circled him, their eyes emblazoned with emerald fire. Soft voices echoed in the air, singing in words beyond Scaarbach’s experience. He tried to pull away from the spell but found himself bound on the spot. Instead of fear or annoyance, he was lulled as though drugged and could think of nothing else but the words that grew louder, the beat of a drum that wasn’t there, and the two witches that had enthralled him.

From the ethereal folds of her cloak, Auguste pulled out a sickle that looked as though it had been crafted from moonlight itself. With the sickle in her hand, Auguste struck out into the air, carving the nothingness that clearly had profound meaning to her. Eugenie slipped in through the open wound and disappeared for but a moment. She returned within seconds, holding something that seemed for all intents and purposes be quicksilver, bound to a form by forces unknown. The dance stopped and they circled him like predators circling their prey.

Eugenie held out the silvery vial, her hand almost shaking from nerves, “You must drink it,” she urged him.

Scaarbach took a step back, stopped only by Auguste who stood behind him, “I want no part of this!” he insisted.

“It’s not poison,” Auguste replied, her voice as soft and smooth as butter, “It is an elixir for the rite, it will infuse you with the magic we need.”

[babblish]

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder*, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it. And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I was tagged by @dreamcrow and oh god do you have any idea how many wips I have? Bare with me while I go hunting, Please bear in mind that I may have already shared literally everything within some of these wips, and I’m only sharing the ToA ones because we don’t want to be here all day.

Ottobiography (Broken up into sub docs because so many words)

The Daughters of Magic - The Letter before the Move

The Daughters of Magic - A Rough Start

The Daughters of Magic - Meeting the Witch

Pursuit of Stone - Part One - Letters

Vienna Encounter

The Origin of the Arcane Order (Primordial Awakenings)

Unreleased ToA Wips

Arcadian Witch - Early Days (Unreleased Witch!Lenora Fic)

Arcadian Witch - Home Magic (Unreleased Witch!Lenora Fic)

Homework Squad (Unreleased Uhl Fic Prequel) 

The Origin of the Arcane Order (Baby Morgana Origin Fic)

I have some other toa wips but they are... mostly notes I won’t lie, there’s not really a whole to share yet.

Tagging: @sunnymusingsao3 @sidhewrites @ashenhartkrie @creativenicocorner @megan0013 @nightrosebud @seagullandcroissant! and anyone else who wants to join because I am not counting all my wips in this au, you can’t make me. Yes I did blatantly steal most of Crow’s tags, sorry for double tagging but also 😎

[babblish]

I was tagged by @creativenicocorner in other dash game thing, does it have a name? I can’t remember.

rules: share the last line you wrote, and tag as many people as there are words!*

Excerpt from Under the Sun — Part One: The White Rabbit

One by one they threw their heavy cloaks over themselves, took a lantern, and began their trek across the Castlemain grounds. There was a fierce chill in the air, and the full moon peaked over through a light spray of inconsequential clouds. No one spoke, and each changeling seemed enthralled, entirely unaware of the others around them. Scaarbach had never been to the temple, but he’d heard hushed whispers regarding it’s magical properties. With each careful step under the night’s sky, he grew in anticipation, eager to see it for himself.  

Eventually their destination revealed itself, a large bonfire encircled by aged stones towering into the sky like trolls who had gazed upon sun. One by one, the changelings sat their lanterns down on the ancient and weathered mosaic floor, and drew close to the fire. The heat was inviting, but it was the light that had drawn Scaarbach closer. Their numbers were too great for him to get fully near, but the brilliant gold called out to something deep within him. There was no telling if this something was the traces of humanity or trolldom, or perhaps something else, something eldritch and engrained into his stone.

A voice sung, hollow and distant. Scaarbach could not source it, or perhaps he didn’t dare, his eyes transfixed on the fire and nothing else. He thought he caught words, some of the Elder Tongue, others in Old Changeling, but for reasons he couldn’t fathom, he couldn’t catch them in his mind. As he stared into the golden fire, he thought he could see a figure, human, larger than life, a goddess if he had ever seen one. The voice grew loudly, more fervent, and Scaarbach realised it was Gormlot.

The changelings backed away, creating a large circle of empty space between themselves and the bonfire, and Gormlot stepped forward, holding large flagon. She cocked her golden mask back and drunk deeply from the flagon, the air strangely empty without her sung words that were surely spun of magic. As the Grand Commandant reached her fill, she flung the remains of the flagon into the bonfire and was engulfed entirely by flames as it nearly doubled in size. From the centre of the inferno, the song returned, a trollish voice, angrier and more forceful than before. The changelings around Scaarbach began to echo the song, each using their trollish voices. He joined in, not fully understanding the words, nor a particularly confident singer, but in a chorus neither truly mattered.

Gormlot pulled herself up from the flames, standing tall in her trollish form, her golden form nearly lost in the bonfire. She threw her head up towards the night’s sky, and let out a extended, plaintive howl that put shivers down Scaarbach’s spine. It was, for lack of a better word, monstrous. To his surprise, the changelings around him echoed her sentiment, letting out guttural roars at the moon like wild beasts. Scaarbach looked around, feeling self-conscious, and allowed himself to join in. His body vibrated with the resonance, he could feel he feel his inhuman strength and resilience through every fibre of his being, and the catharsis of his roar was liberating in a way he had never known. He poured out his frustrations of the decade and more, embracing the sound as though it could heal him from within.

Not tagging anyone but feel free to join in if you wanna.