#presented by i can never decide on an armor i like or a dye

[huldrabitch]

💜Some Shadowheart desktops/wallpapers for my Shadowheart (Shart) Truthers💜

[guardian-of-gotham]

//Filled out a questionnaire by my lovely mutual, Kirby, earlier in my hiatus, and I finally decided to post it. Also, there are NSFW themes in the Sexuality section. I've colored milder answers in orange and more potentially uncomfortable ones in red.

-- Appearance

001. Do they have any scars?

Yes, several. Most from before the Batsuit actually served as armor, when his dealings with Gotham's mobs saw him stabbed and shot repeatedly. And yet it still took a kid insisting on joining him for him to realize he should sacrifice some mobility for a more durable fabric.

002. Do they have any tattoos/piercings?

No.

003. What is their natural eye color?

Steely blue.

004. Do they wear contacts to change their eye color?

Not unless in disguise.

005. What is their natural hair color?

Black.

006. Do they dye their hair?

Not unless in disguise, and a wig is not an option.

007. Do they keep their hair long, short, or in between?

He's had the same short, combed back side part since he was a child.

008. What does their clothing style look like?

He dresses as formally as appropriate on any occasion. If he's going for a real casual look, he might wear a vest without a jacket or forgo outerwear entirely. No tie and leaving a couple buttons open at the top of his shirt is a popular go-to for a particularly laid-back date night.

009. Do they dress in “the norm” for their gender presentation?

Kind of? He dresses more formally than most men, and there are some common items of clothing he never wears, but his outfits are all still masculine, even if they sometimes get a bit too fancy to be considered normal. Also, he wouldn't be entirely opposed to wearing more feminine clothing if it was part of a disguise he knew he could pull off or if a partner expressed interest in seeing him in a particular garment/outfit.

010. Do they wear any kind of make-up?

Not usually, but he has used it for certain disguises, to help hide injuries, and when necessary for media and/or public appearances.

011. Are they invested in their physical appearance?

He tries his best to look presentable as Bruce Wayne and intimidating as Batman, but if those qualities weren't necessary for his goals, he probably wouldn't care much. His monetary investment in his appearance is pretty substantial, though, mostly due to extensive efforts to minimize his scars as much as possible to avoid suspicion towards his secret identity.

-- Identity

012. What is their gender identity and sexual orientation?

Cis male and demibisexual/romantic.

013. What is their relation to their gender identity and sexual orientation?

He's never questioned either and still thinks he's straight (by default). Given his place on the ace/aro spectrum, it's already difficult enough for him to form and realize attraction to others, and his stubbornness leads him to deny his feelings longer still, so he's never really needed or been presented with the opportunity to wonder if his interests go beyond women. Funnily enough, his first crush was on Harvey Dent in college, but it was also his first time experiencing real friendship, and he's so emotionally stunted, he didn't realize his feelings went beyond that.

014. What is their relation to their ethnicity/heritage?

Bruce was raised in both the Jewish faith and culture and still engages in the associated traditions despite now being disconnected from the spiritual aspects of his upbringing. There were some mild Christian influences from his father, who belonged to the Episcopal Church before his relationship with Martha, but those had much less of an impact on his life than the strong family values and emphasis on making the world a better place. "Tikkun olam" may as well be his life motto.

015. How do they feel about their nationality, current or of origin?

Having been born and raised in the U.S., he can appreciate some of the ideals behind the country's founding and the independent spirit it can inspire in people. However, he is also aware of just how deep corruption runs through every system currently in place, those in Gotham being some of the worst examples. To say that he loves his country in its current state might be a bit of a stretch, but he does care about the people living in it and does his best to play his part in its eventual improvement.

016. What family members had the most impact on them?

Considering his parents both instilled his current ideals in him and set him on his current path through their deaths, probably them. Although, he never would've gotten this far if not for the support and influence of his butler, and essentially, second father, Alfred.

017. What is their relationship with their family?

He does his best to love and protect every last person in his family, blood relation to them an unimportant factor, but he would never ask the same of them. As far as he's concerned, they would all be better off without him, and their continued association with him only increases the likelihood of their death. Any apparent distance he might place between himself and them is simply him trying to prevent that outcome.

018. Do they connect with their sense of self or reject it?

He sees himself as a tool, a necessary evil to help others. Any moments of self-discovery or humanizing experiences, regardless of if he's eventually appreciated them or not, have happened against his will.

019. Is their sense of self tied to another person or thing?

Very much so. As stated previously, he has built his entire life around aiding others. He sees no point to his existence otherwise. Honestly, he doesn't even know who he is anymore. Bruce Wayne pretty much died the same night his parents did, Batman is a purpose, not a person, and even the moments in his life where he feels the most real and alive only occur because of the people he's grown to love.

020. What does their morality look like?

He is intent on making the world a better place through self-sacrifice and systemic change. He unfortunately has found it necessary to hurt people to stop them from hurting others, but he refuses to kill, because he doesn't believe in any one person having the power to end another's life, and he believes that when people seen as heroes kill, it can corrupt their mission and/or inspire more malicious forces to pose as heroes and take advantage of people's trust in them to carry out harm on a mass scale.

021. What other names are they known by? 

Batman, Bats, The Bat, The Dark Knight, B, Brucie, Brucie Boy, Brucie Baby, Bruce Old Boy, Mr. Wayne, Dad, Father, Baba, Spooky, and more.

022. Do they know any languages besides their birth tongue?

English, French, Spanish, Russian, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese, Filipino, Korean, Arabic, Turkish, Polish, German, Latin, Greek, Italian, Portuguese, Hebrew, Thai, Vietnamese, Kryptonian, Swedish, Swahili, and Kasnian. Possibly more.

023. What religion were they raised in, if any?

Judaism.

024. Are they religious at present?

No. He's seen too many unbelievable things to completely discount the idea that everything he was taught in his youth was true, but there seems to be no explicit evidence supporting its existence either. Regardless, he still engages with the cultural aspects of Judaism and lives by the ideals instilled in him, holding the belief that faith in an otherworldly being isn't necessary to uphold family traditions or to be a decent person.

025. Do they hold to any superstitions?

Only if they've proven to be true, at which point, they can no longer be considered superstitions.

-- Health

026. Do they need glasses?

No.

027. What mental conditions do they have?

Autism, PTSD, C-PTSD, and Dysthymia (a.k.a. Persistent Depressive Disorder).

028. What physical conditions do they have?

Other than a plethora of scars, none at present.

029. Do they have any allergies?

No.

030. What notable injuries and/or illnesses have they had?

Broken bones, bruises, blood loss, sprained joints, strained muscles, dislocated bones, head trauma, bullet wounds, burns, stab wounds, incisions, temporary hearing loss, temporary loss of vision, temporary death, the common cold, pneumonia, frostbite, radiation poisoning, food poisoning, ingestion of poisons, exposure to fear toxin, Joker venom, Poison Ivy's pollens and pheromones, and various other psychoactive substances, paralysis, comas, hangovers, and many, many more.

031. How diligent are they about their personal hygiene?

When he needs to go out in public, very much so, but he has been known to neglect himself when focused on a particularly frustrating mission.

032. Do they keep up with their medication if they have any?

Alfred makes sure he does whenever necessary, but he does sometimes intentionally skip doses if he finds that the effects interfere with his ability to carry out his work.

033. Are they particularly concerned with staying healthy/clean?

Only to maintain respectability and the ability to fight crime. He doesn't fear death so much as no longer being able to protect others.

-- Symbolism

034. What colors are they related to?

Black as Batman, obviously, and perhaps gold as Bruce Wayne? He would be associated with wealth and extravagance, the color is the same as the champagne often served at his parties, and he is seen by some as a ray of light and symbol of hope in Gotham's dark, corrupt atmosphere.

035. What animals symbolize them?

Other than his clear connection to bats, there are also some parallels between him and a wolf. Both are seen by others as solitary predators despite clearly being pack animals. Plus, the animal's fierce and loyal characteristics are also very present in Bruce's own personality.

036. What plants symbolize them?

From Victorian Floral Code:

Asphodel - Remembered Beyond The Tomb

Red begonia - Dark Thoughts

Bluebell - Constancy

Bittersweet Nightshade - Truth

Box - Stocism

Cedar - Strength; I Live For Thee

Pink carnation - I'll Never Forget You

Cypress - Despair; Mourning

Dogwood - Love Undiminished by Adversity

Eglantine - Poetry; I Wound To Heal

Everlasting - Enduring Remembrance

Fennel - Force; Strength

Adonis Flos - Painful Recollections

Forsythia - Good Nature

Dark Geranium - Melancholy

Gladiolus - Strength of Character

Heliotrope - Devotion

Hyacinth - Sorrow

Ivy - Fidelity

Lavender - Mistrust

Marigold - Grief; Despair

Monkshood - Chivalry

Snowball - Bound

Johnny Jump-Up Viola - Thoughts, Remembrance

Wallflower - Fidelity in Adversity

Water lily - Eloquence; Purity of Heart

Weeping willow - Mourning

037. What celestial bodies symbolize them?

Stars - guidance, hope, and destiny

Comets - change and upheaval

038. What time of day are they most related to?

Night. A time of secrets and darkness. Light still exists; it's just harder to find. So long as there are those who can't rest safely each night, he will make this darkness his home.

039. What is a number or numbers that relate to them?

2. A number of dichotomy and conflict, as well as partners and cooperation. Two parents lost, two identities formed, the dynamic duos that protected him from the harm of self isolation, the two alters at war within his best friend, Harvey Dent, once the white knight to his dark knight, and the minimum number of people he can count on to continue residing at Wayne Manor, as they have since the other two were lost.

040. What elements are they most connected to?

Earth. Grounded, solid, steadfast, and dependable. Rich in resources and the foundation for all continued life.

041. What type of weather are they?

Gloomy and overcast. Melancholy and mundane, he isn't always appreciated and can be a source of misery for some, but to those of an acquired taste, he offers peace and hope, with the promise of a better life to come after putting up with a downpour or two.

042. What season of the year are they?

Fall. A time of death, loss, and change. He sacrifices and sheds parts of himself, so life and hope can begin a new in those around him. Even if he doesn't live to see the eventual spring, he will bear the brunt of the coming winter to leave the world stronger than he left it.

043. What kind of precious material are they?

Diamond. Forged under pressure and difficult to break.

044. What type of music fits them best?

Classical instrumental. Filled with soul and complex emotions, even if often overlooked or misunderstood by others due to a disconnect from those who rely more heavily on verbal communication.

045. What songs are closely tied to them?

Symphony No. 3 by Henryk Górecki, also known as the Symphony of Sorrowful Songs, is a piece that always spoke to something in him, especially after the deaths of his own parents. He might give its name if asked for his favorite song, but to actually hear him listening to it nowadays would likely not be a great sign for his emotional stability in that moment.

-- Preferences

046. What is their favorite food and drink?

Steak and steamed vegetables have always been a reliable go-to, and he wouldn't be able to function without the vast amounts of black coffee he consumes each day. Although, if he were trying to pair the two, red wine would be a better fit for the aforementioned meal.

047. Do they like sports?

Not particularly. He likes engaging in physical activity and appreciates the value sports add to society, but he's not the type of person who needs to keep up with a particular game or team. His priorities lie elsewhere.

048. Do they like hot or cold weather?

Cold. He's used to Gotham's gloom and recognizes the practical truth that it will always be easier to warm oneself than attempt to cool off.

049. How do they feel about animals?

While he appreciates them and finds it himself easily growing to care for them, he does think that there's a limit to how many of them people can personally care for within a single household and hopes Damian's penchant for collecting strays doesn't end up getting out of hand.

050. How do they feel about nature?

It's a precious resource that needs to be protected, but unlike a certain adversary of his, he doesn't believe the loss of human lives is necessary for that protection.

051. Do they prefer science or the humanities?

Personally, science. However, he does believe teaching the humanities to be more important when it comes to fostering a kinder society and making people aware of societal warning signs before true corruption can take root.

052. Are they booksmart or streetsmart?

Mostly booksmart, but he's streetsmart enough to do his job as Batman. He's knowledgeable on how the criminal underworld works and capable of analyzing his enemies' psyches, but there are deficits regarding his social intelligence in general that often get in his way.

053. Are they more comfortable in large crowds, small groups, or totally alone?

While he would likely say alone, he does, in fact, work and feel best when in the company of a few close friends or family.

054. Do they feel more in their element in urban or rural settings?

Urban, but specifically an older, darker version of urban. Places like Metropolis can feel too bright and overwhelming, and they lack the harsher architecture and abundance of hiding spots he's grown used to in Gotham.

055. How do they feel about math and language?

Both are important cornerstones of society, and he's made sure to remain well-versed in each subject.

056. Do they prefer to travel or stay in one place?

Stay in one place. There's a comfort in familiarity, even if Gotham can't exactly be described as comfortable on its own.

057. Are they good about getting out of their comfort zone?

Not really. That may seem hard to believe, given his nighttime activities, but pain and fighting have become commonplace to him. It's much harder to trust others or allow himself to be vulnerable than to face off against increasingly more difficult foes.

058. What’s their sense of humor like?

Dry, sarcastic, and often deadpan. It's sometimes hard to tell that he's joking beyond the sheer ridiculousness of some of his statements.

059. Do they have any special interests?

Justice and social reform.

060. What pieces of media are important to them?

The Gray Ghost and The Mark of Zorro, although, he hasn't seen either in decades. Television and film in general have lost much of their appeal to him since his parents' deaths.

061. What are their pet peeves?

Recklessness, greed, and cowardice shown by people who have others depending on them.

-- Sociabilities

062. Are they more introverted or extroverted?

Introverted, for sure, but he can pretend to be extroverted when he needs to be. He enjoys being around those he cares about, but even then, he prefers to observe them interacting with each other or quietly enjoy their company.

063. Are they paternal in nature?

Given that he has managed to amass a small army of children, several of which were acquired against his will and best efforts, it's safe to say that he's so paternal, it's often to his detriment. He doesn't believe any kid deserves him and the trouble that seems to follow him in their lives, but he will always care for the few that made their way into his life regardless. He also treats kids in general with as much kindness as possible, knowing all too well how frightening and lonely it can be to exist as one.

064. Do they want kids?

Surprisingly, no. He's only adopted kids if he's felt he's been their best and/or only option, which doesn't happen often. He didn't plan to have Damian, and he doesn't plan to willingly bring any more children into his horror show of a life. Of course, that's how he's always felt, so odds don't look great for him actually maintaining that goal any time soon.

065. What level of emotional intelligence do they have?

His emotional intelligence is fairly decent; however, his emotional wisdom and social skills often leave something to be desired. He can understand that he's in distress and needs to care for himself just fine, but that doesn't do him any good if he convinces himself he can handle things alone, believes himself to be undeserving of compassion, and actively refuses to take said care of himself. Likewise, while he can often understand the emotions of those around him, not everyone appreciates some of those emotions being treated as a simple problem he just has to find the solution for.

066. How do they communicate their thoughts and feelings (positive or negative) to others?

He doesn't. He bottles it all up until they push him too far or the occasional feeling dawns on him that he should them know he cares about them. After all, he's very obvious in showing how he feels (in his mind, at least), so why does he need to specifically voice it all the time?

067. What are their love languages out of the classic 5?

Acts of service, gift-giving, and quality time. Physical touch is also a common one for him in romantic relationships, but he doesn't initiate it nearly as often in platonic or familial relationships.

068. What are their love languages not included in the classic 5?

Memorization of small details, protection, avoidance, and sacrifice (up to and including his own life).

069. How strong is their sense of empathy?

Not very. He can be incredibly sympathetic and has his ways of reading people, but unless he can specifically relate to their current situation, he can't actually place himself in their shoes and feel what they're feeling. Even when he can relate to their situation, he moreso taps into his own past feelings than connects with their current ones, which can be counterproductive if they feel differently.

070. Do they allow themself to be vulnerable or keep all at a distance?

He absolutely keeps everyone at a distance, but those patient and persistent enough can definitely break through his walls and witness moments of vulnerability from him despite his best efforts to pretend such vulnerabilities don't exist. Those who pay close enough attention will even realize that the very fact that he allows them to get close means that he's already become vulnerable to them. The only time he doesn't try to hide that, though, is when he truly believes they need a reminder of how much he cares for them.

071. Do they struggle relating to others with foreign experiences?

Very much so, but that doesn't mean he automatically dismisses them. He'll always try to help others in their struggles as long as they aren't harming others. Even then, he's been known to offer words of kindness to those most in society wouldn't seem worthy of such an act. People can't change if never presented with the opportunity or motivation to do so.

072. How quickly are they to give their trust?

What trust? Joking aside though, trust always needs to be earned with Bruce. However, once fully earned and fostered, it's hard to break that trust entirely. He might not trust them in small matters anymore, but he'd likely still trust them with his life if push came to shove.

073. Are they more of an optimist or pessimist?

He would describe himself as more of a realist, but his life experiences have led him to expect the worst more often than not. Despite that, he continues to fight for a world where better expectations might more easily exist.

074. Are their emotions easily influenced by others’?

Only by those he's already started to grow close to. Usually, there are too many walls in place, but once someone's slipped past his defenses, it doesn't take much to have him wrapped around their finger.

-- Romance & Sexuality

075. Do they fall on the aromantic/asexual spectrum?

Definitely. He's demi in both spectrums, requiring an existing emotional connection before developing feelings for or attraction to anyone.

076. Do they want to be married?

Ideally, yes. In practice, it would take a lot to convince him to add yet another potential family member for him to lose into his life, though.

077. What type of features are they attracted to?

Sharp/angular facial features, plush lips, slender builds, toned muscles, broad shoulders, long hair, heights not far below but potentially fairly far above his own, and nice hands

078. What type of personalities are they attracted to?

Passionate, charismatic, mature, strong-willed, kind, and respectful people who are good with children.

079. What type of personalities repulse them/are a turn off?

Rude, violent, manipulative, reckless, egotistical, immature, and/or chauvinistic people unable to take anything seriously.

080. Would they be open to a threesome?

Not unless it was one mind shared between two bodies or one body shared between two minds.

081. Would they be open to a foursome or more?

The previous answer would still stand, but there would be more hesitance for each additional body/mind. More alters/other variations of head mates would be more likely to cause real discomfort than more bodies, though, since each one would technically be a separate partner with their own thoughts and personality. 2 minds might actually be a max for him.

082. Would they be okay with an open relationship?

Not at all. I could see him agreeing to his partner seeing others to keep them happy if he was talked into it, but he wouldn't be able to keep up multiple relationships at once himself, and even sharing his current partner would be very unhealthy for him and would eventually break him to the point of pulling away entirely.

083. Are they polygamous?

Absolutely not, as explained in the previous answer.

084. Are they open about their sexuality (both orientation and general)?

Nope. He doesn't even realize he's on the ace/aro spectrums, much less that he's bi. Even with women, he denies his attraction to them as long as he can and tries to avoid even purely emotional attachment to them, due to his tendency to repress emotions, his lacking romantic experience and his fear of loss. He's also a deeply private person in general and tries to avoid being the focus of a conversation.

085. Are they comfortable with casual sex?

No, he doesn't even feel the need to engage in such acts when not in a relationship. He would have no reason to seek out temporary companionship, and he wouldn't be attracted to anyone without forming a deeper connection to them. He hadn't even had his first kiss before becoming involved with Selina, and his one night stand with Talia was not intended to be so brief on his side of things.

086. How comfortable are they with discussing sexuality in general?

In general, incredibly uncomfortable, but with a (potential) partner, usually the most discomfort he'll feel is some mild shyness or embarrassment.

087. What are their kinks?

Bondage (mostly receiving), dominance (receiving), body worship (giving), sparring/wrestling, sensation play, adrenaline/danger play (only when no real risk/threat exists to deal with or after dealing with something real not brought on by his partner where nobody else could've been hurt), roleplaying (mostly bringing hero/rogue personas into the bedroom, though he's too embarrassed to reveal so without prompting), clothed sex (either both or just his partner), costumes/uniforms (mostly formal attire, business wear, and hero/rogue uniforms), lingerie (on either his partner or himself, but he hasn't been introduced to that second option yet), teasing (mostly receiving), and suspension (mostly receiving).

088. If they could choose, on average, would they prefer slow and sensual or fast and rough?

He definitely prefers to slow down and appreciate things as they occur, but he'll speed up if requested, and he certainly wouldn't have any complaints being treated a little rougher if his partner was the one controlling the pace.

089. Does emotional intimacy play any part in their enjoyment of sex?

Absolutely. He cannot enjoy the act if he isn't physically pleasing a partner he has grown emotionally attached to. He doesn't even tend to himself, though there's generally no need to if he hasn't interacted with such a person recently.

090. How tolerant are they of kinks they don’t have?

It depends on the potential they have to cause harm or illness and how much physical pleasure it would bring his partner. Outside of his own relationships, he doesn't care what people do as long as they're being safe and discreet.

091. Are they more prone to the dominant or submissive role?

Submissive. He can fake being dominant occasionally to please his partners, but it doesn't come naturally to him, and prolonged teasing or pushback would quickly break his resolve.

092. Do they prefer the penetrated (bottom) or penetrating (top) position?

He has no preference, but given that he has only had cis female partners in the past, he is more experienced as a top. Although, he would be uncertain of himself either way at first with a partner who had the same genitalia as him, and until he became more confident in his skill with that type of anatomy, he would likely always make sure they were still stimulated from the front in some way when topping. He also tries to use other forms of stimulation when taking the bottom role with partners lacking the necessary natural anatomy, wanting to make sure their needs are still being met. In any case, constant audible confirmation of his partner's pleasure greatly helps to reassure him and keep his anxieties from interfering.

093. Are they a sadist, masochist, or both?

He's not exactly a masochist persay, but if any pain is going to occur, he would much rather it happen to him. Anything on his end couldn't go beyond gentle love nips, lightly running his nails across skin, or minimal pressure/squeezing applied to certain body parts, and that last one would take a bit of convincing before he was comfortable trying.

094. Do they prefer to give or receive oral sex?

Give. He grows deeply uncomfortable whenever he is doted on in any way unless he is able to return the affection, preferably simultaneously, Even when he's already made sure his partner has had their fill for the time being, having all attention turned on him can still make him tense or squirmy, especially when when unable to at least touch them while it's happening.

-- Misc.

095. Would they be considered “out of touch” with the present day?

In some ways. He doesn't necessarily keep up with the latest trends or what slang is currently in use among the youth of today. In fact, he could easily be described as a product of an older era. However, he is more aware than most of the things that truly matter in life, and people trust him to pay attention to their needs and do his best to fight for necessary changes, when others with his level of power in society often ignore anything that doesn't directly seem to affect them or even make things worse for those less fortunate if it works to their advantage.

096. What are their feelings about recycling?

It's an incredible method for reducing waste, but an individual's efforts to engage in it won't make a difference if the corporations that create most of the world's waste continue not to take any accountability or make any attempts at change themselves.

097. Do they have any grasp of Internet culture?

Basically none. If it could provide insight on a case, he might put in the effort to learn a thing or two, but beyond that, it holds no relevance in his life.

098. What’s their average level of energy?

Probably a 5. Tired and overworked, but he manages to carry on regardless.

099. What are they proud of?

His family, his friends, and people who have chosen to better themselves despite any struggles involved in doing so. He holds no pride for any of his own actions or achievements, though.

100. What do they regret?

Every mistake, real or imagined, that he's ever made, the people that he's failed to save making up the majority of that regret.

101. Do they have any secrets?

...He's Batman.

[i-only-write-in-purple-ink]

Day 2: Crown (12 Days of Writers Self Love)

I couldn’t decide which of two ideas I wanted to do more, so I did them both! Apologies if this got a little long. I really did enjoy writing these, this challenge is turning out wonderfully! Many thanks to @writeblrfantasy for creating it!

1. Hermitcraft Season 8, White Wings AU (main story here) 2. Hermitcraft Season 9, Third Life SMP

1. HC Season 8, White Wings AU

Tommy had seen many crowns in his lifetime.

The gem-encrusted crown of the SMP, first worn by Eret, and then George.

Ranboo’s humble diadem, studded with rough-cut rubies and emeralds mined by hand from the depths of the earth.

The golden spikes adorning the top of Sam’s Warden armor, fused to the mask he had worn more and more often.

Techno’s simple golden circlet, twin to Phil’s silver one, relics of an empire long past.

But he had never worn one of his own before now.

False measured out a length of copper wire before presenting it to Tommy with a wink. “It’s easier if you start with this.”

Gem taught him how to weave stalks of grass together, how to twist and braid the fragile stems around the wire until they formed something resilient, stronger. Something complete.

Stress regaled him with the meanings of different flowers, what made them grow the best, which ones were good for tea or scents or dyes. Under her careful eye he worked Queen Anne’s lace, lavender, daffodils, and yellow orchids into the strands of his masterpiece.

Iskall chuckled as he swept a lock of Tommy’s ivory hair away from his eyes. “Ready?” He asked, his organic eye twinkling with warmth as it darted around Tommy’s face. Tommy nodded, expression implacable, and Iskall placed the completed flower crown gracefully among his curls. The Swede examined his handiwork for a moment, tucking hair or flowers into place, before nodding in satisfaction.

Iskall picked up his own creation from the ground beside him, sporting purple asters and orange orchids, and crowned himself with a flourish. Tommy tilted his head, judging through squinted eyes. After a few seconds a small smile rose to his face, and he nodded in approval. It's good. I like it, he signed.

A small noise made them both turn to where Xisuma was seated on the soft grass, his crown of blue bellflowers and pink dahlias resting crookedly on top of his helmet. He was struggling to right it, but the mechanical axolotl gills on either side of his visor made it so that the woven headress kept slipping. “I guess I’m just not made for crowns,” he said good-naturedly when he noticed them looking, giving up the fight and leaving the flowers slightly off-kilter.

Perfect, Tommy signed to him, and the admin let out a surprised laugh. “Perfect? I suppose it does suit me. I’m a bit of derp even on the best of days.”

Tommy leaned back, and let the sun hit his face. Laughter danced in the wind as the Hermits delighted in the carefree summer day. He had never felt so far and yet so close to home.

-----

// Yes, I know these flowers wouldn’t all exist in the same climate as each other. But honestly this is Minecraft fanfiction so lower your expectations and let me have my dramatic flower symbolism :’D 

// I really like that trope in fiction, I wish people did more of it. And can you tell I’m a sucker for found family? Lol

// Not me giving my headcanons for the DSMP crowns and forgetting all about the MCC champion team crowns. 💀 MCC is only sort of canon to this universe.... we can chalk it up to ww!Tommy never participating in MCC before, that’s only for the really famous competitive types like Technoblade and Grian. Yep. Definitely no plotholes here.

// Flower Meanings  vvv

Tommy:

Queen Anne’s lace (safety, sanctuary, and refuge)

Lavender (purity, silence, serenity)

Daffodils (rebirth, new beginnings)

Yellow Orchids (new beginnings, friendship, joy)

Iskall:

Asters (love, wisdom, trust)

Orange Orchids (pride, enthusiasm, boldness)

Xisuma:

Bellflowers (affection, constancy, unwavering love)

Pink Dahlias (elegance, grace, kindness)

2. HC Season 9, 3rd Life SMP

Kingmaker. That’s what they called him.

Ren rolled the chess piece between his fingers, relishing the weight of the solid obsidian. It made a satisfying clack as he placed it back in its spot on the board. The black queen.

If he was the king, the ruler over the entire Hermitcraft server, then Bdubs would be his queen. He certainly wielded enough power; it was through Bdubs’ support alone that Ren won the crown. Bdubs was the one who built the Crastle for him, who was his advisor, defender, friend. His second-in-command, his right… hand….

Ren frowned, unease rising in his gut, a sudden chill burning the tips of his fingers. He curled his hands into fists on reflex. Something wasn’t right.

He rose from his throne with a growl and swept down the stairs from the royal dais, his cape billowing out behind him. His paws made no noise on the plush carpet running down the center of the throne room, keeping away the chill of solid stone.

“Sir BdoubleO? Your king summons you!” Ren called, his voice echoing through the empty stone halls. He waited a few moments, but only silence answered.

“Bdubs? Where are youuuuu….” His words bounced eerily off of the cavernous ceilings, echoing back as if mocking him. He hesitantly ventured down a hallway, turned, and was faced with an identical hallway. He followed it, but that only yielded another similar looking passageway. The next was almost exactly the same. And the next. Ren frowned. He hadn’t remembered there being quite this many corridors in his Crastle.

He followed more turns, traversed more corridors, calls going unheard and unanswered, until he realized he was well and truly lost. Ren stopped at a four-way intersection, glancing down each hall. They all felt familiar, but was that because they looked the same or because he truly recognized them?

Ren pulled his cloak tighter around himself, shivering. And when had it gotten so cold? He needed to tell Bdubs to install some sort of heating system in the castle, like magma blocks behind the walls or something. These were not livable temperatures, certainly not for a king.

Ren’s breath had begun to fog the air by the time he reached something that certainly didn’t belong: a set of arched glass doors, metalwork spiraling intricately across their frosted surface. The metal handles were bitterly cold, but they turned without protest as he pushed the double doors open.

Beyond lay a courtyard, dead branches hanging like corpses over flowerbeds full of dried leaves. A few inches of snow was dusted over everything in sight, drifting heavily in the corners and on the trees. Ren’s trepidation spiked. It was supposed to be summer on the Hermitcraft server, after all. And the Crastle didn’t have an interior garden.

He stepped out into the courtyard, bracing himself against the freezing gusts of air. His royal cape was woefully equipped to protect him from the full wrath of a winter’s wind. The harsh blasts died down into a biting breeze as he neared the center of the courtyard, snow crunching beneath his paws. Ren scarcely minded the cold as he stared wide-eyed at the centerpiece of this unnatural display.

A large stone altar rose from the ground, more of an elevated platform than anything else. Ren ascended its steps, captivated by the rough, indecipherable runes hewn deep into the surface. Lines had been cut straight across the top slab, radiating out from a shallow, bowl-like indentation at the middle. Blood channels, Ren realized with a growing horror. Blood channels that had clearly already been used.

A sudden growl had him tensing, ears lying flat and lips pulled back into a snarl. The sound seemed to emenate from every corner of the courtyard at once, circling as one would stalk prey. It was more than a threat. This was the hunting call of a predator.

Ren scanned the courtyard wildly, but there was nothing to see except a slate-gray sky bordered by gargoylic crenelations and the first few flurries of snowfall. The rumbling grew louder and louder, until the very air trembled before it. Oh, little wolf, the voice purred, smugly satisfied and impossibly deep.

“Who are you?” Ren shouted at the sky, hating the way his voice had gone high-pitched with fear.

The voice merely chuckled, the sinister whisper of a blade pulled from its sheath. Winter is coming, it intoned. And the crown weighs heavy.

Ren spun in place, breaths coming sharp and cold biting at his lungs. The voice was crushing him from all sides, pushing him down to his hands and knees on the cold, stone altar.

Do ye have what it takes to be KING, Rendog?

And Ren woke in his royal bedchambers, gasping for air and sheets soaked in sweat. His hands didn’t stop shaking for the rest of the day.

-----

// I am just now getting into the 3rd life fandom (yes, a year late) and holy cow I love the Red King so much!! Big kudos to dog at the door by fluffy_papaya and iamsolarflare for getting me hooked on Ren’s lore, it’s one of my favorite fics ever. 

// For the voice, have you heard the voice of the Old God N’Zoth from the Warbringers short? Yeah, that but with a hint of Scottish accent. Very dark and powerful-sounding.

Deal? I like deals.... *eldritch laughter*

- N’Zoth the Corruptor

[milfbenkenobi]

Star Wars Fic Rec List Part 3

All of these are complete, some may be part of an incomplete series.

Face the Music by CrystalShard

Word count: 3933 Chapter count: 1

Thanks to a slight mishap while communing with kyber crystals, Anakin can hear music that he's never noticed before. And his personal orchestra has Very Definite Opinions on some of his choices. Especially when it comes to Chancellor Palpatine.

Anakin gains a soundtrack for his life and has an crisis

——————

Better as a Team by Ontologicialmoki

Word count: 1203 Chapter count: 1

Jedi Masters Obi-wan Kenobi and Aayla Secura run into trouble on a joint mission, and Obi-wan cares more about his sister than the bureaucrats he's supposed to be negotiating with. Not enough to abandon the mission, but they can certainly handle a little delay. Especially when they go and put Master Secura in jail.

or

It occurred to me that the Jedi are probably legally siblings under the Republic, and this probably comes in handy sometimes.

A short little fic about Obi-Wan bailing Aayla out of jail using a legal loophole. Super funny, plus a bonus confused/affectionate Mace

——————

what hides behind dusty windows by freelancestargazing

Word count: 32724 Chapter count: 4

“Do you have any stories, Captain?”

“I do.” Rex settles his hands on the table, fingers entwined and holding a fist. “I’d like to tell you the story of Echo and Fives, two of ours who went missing earlier today while on mission, CT numbers Twenty-One-Zero-Four-Zero-Eight and Twenty-Seven-Fifty-Five-Fifty-Five.”

The cadets frown, a synchronous motion that might’ve made Rex laugh under other circumstances.

“Sir?” One of them asks hesitantly. “I- I don’t understand, how- how could they be Twenty-One-Zero-Four-Zero-Eight and Twenty-Seven-Fifty-Five-Fifty-Five? That’s—” he gestures at his vod, “that’s us.”

Or: as the newest additions to the 501st, Echo and Fives are desperate to prove themselves worthy, but being Forced back to their cadet selves is not quite what they had in mind.

Echo and Fives are deaged and the 501st accidentally uncovers a kaminoan plot

——————

Shenanigans by MissTeaVee

Word count: 2417 Chapter count: 1

You'd THINK that clones can tell each other apart. But apparently all it takes to fool even your best buddy is to dye your hair to the regular brown and wear shiny armor.

Rex has a laugh, Ponds can't believe these dummies.

Rex pulls a prank on the CC clones

——————

Rainfall by kckenobi

Word count: 1408 Chapter count: 1

The first time Anakin sees rain, and the first time Obi-Wan dances in it.

Baby Anakin and Obi-Wan have some bonding time

——————

A walk on part in the war by Victoria_p(musesfool)

2 work series. Word count: 10394

Vader presents Ahsoka with an ultimatum.

Luke considers this family reunion far more successful than the one in Cloud City. At least this time, no one loses a hand.

Ahsoka is taken prisoner a few years before A New Hope, Luke breaks her out, family drama ensues.

—————

The Honey Between Our Shadows by amphrite

Word count: 13721 Chapter count: 1

A decade after the dawn of the Empire, Purge Trooper CC-2224 discovers a former Jedi general hiding on Tatooine. But the traitor isn’t what he expected: wisecracking and magnanimous—and heartbroken. And then there’s the unnerving way he looks at CC-2224, like he’s seen his nightmares and been acquainted with every blaster scar on his body.

Or: a roundabout justification for why Darth Vader never finds Obi-Wan and Luke on Tatooine.

Oooooooh boy this is an angsty one fellas. Super good, Purge Trooper!Cody stumbles across obi-wan on Tattooine and Does Not Shoot Him

——————

I thought I spent this war alone by stonefreek

Word count: 3783 Chapter count: 1

Obi-Wan is thirteen years old, just about to start learning Ataru from his Master.

Obi-Wan is sixty-one years old, dead and one with the Force since four years back.

Obi-Wan is both, and neither.

Time traveling Ben Kenobi finds himself back in his padawan body, with the memories of both and the confusion of twelve.

——————

Shades in the Desert by loosingletters

Word count: 10806 Chapter count: 1

Not even from a certain point of view did Darth Vader kill Anakin Skywalker. He wished he did, but the specter of the Jedi’s light escaped before he could finalize his fall to the dark. Meanwhile, Anakin is raising his son on Tatooine.

It would be easier if:

1) he weren’t a Force ghost nobody but his toddler could see and 2) Obi-Wan would stick around so somebody could teach Luke about the Force.

When Anakin falls, his soul is yote (yeeted?) from his body and he proceeds to haunt his son on Tattooine. Luke has no idea that a magic invisible dad isn’t normal, by the way.

——————

A Tale of Two Ahsokas by ilenya_sith and merfilly

Word count: 11270 Chapter count: 1

All Ahsoka (either of them) wanted in life was to make it all better. Sometimes, especially when a Force Avatar can bend the rules, wishes can be pushed through. Maybe.

Rebels-era Ahsoka swaps places with Clone Wars-era Ahsoka. Amazing fic, lots of “oh dear lord you’re tall” and “Jesus Christ you’re short from the two sides”

——————

I would link parts one and two, but tumblr’s tagging system decided none of my posts exist anymore. Sorry about that.

[cherryeol04]

Stray Kids Playing Minecraft~

A/n: I hope you all enjoy, and if you liked, please leave a like! 💖💖💖💖

Tags: @straysrachaa @lordseochangbin @channiesmixtape @starryseung​ @felixsanxchatbot @jisungsjheekies​ @mrbangchannie

Chan

- doesn't know almost anything about Minecraft the first time around but he plays with you to make you happy

- you have to baby him for a while

- BUT THEN!

- He goes and learns about the game in his free time

- and then he pleasantly surprises you now that you he doesn't suck anymore

- and most peculiar of all

- he got really interested in redstone

- boi can make some INVENTIONS

- His house is like, fully automated - farm and all

- it makes you jealous but also very proud

- a pretty big pacifist

- shears, veggies and bread is all he needs

- he still big soft baby but he smart baby now

- also, would totally run around with a pumpkin on his head if you could still wear them in the latest version

Lee Know

- would kill everything that moves

- would hoard all the meat and refuse to give you any

- deforestation at its finest

- king of surplus

- playing with him is actually playing by yourself cuz he goes off on his own

- builds himself a goddamn empire!

- and no one knows where it is

- if he catches you inside his house without permission: shoot first, ask questions never

- mobs fear him, not the other way around

- will give you items cuz you're a charity cause

- actually shares when you both go mining though

- but let's face it, he's just OP

- would try to get all the cats

- totally to chase away creepers

- not because he wants an army of them or anything

- gets annoyed that he has to constantly fish because the cats keep taking them but won't be tamed by him

- he totally did not search for mine shafts just for name tags to name his cats

- DO NOT HURT HIS CATS

- or he'd cancel you in-game and irl too

Changbin

- would be super excited to play Minecraft with his friends

- he would be the first on the server to scout out the land and get resources

- however, no one warned him about night fall

- and all the creepy, scary things that spawned

- changbin lives in the ground now

- he dug a hole at the base of the mountain to take refuge during the night and never looked back

- normal person? No way! He was a mole now!

- the best at mining and interior rock design

- he would only resurface to seek out food and animals

- it was Changbin who stole all the cows and sheep, so you couldn't find them for felix

- he would have three large pins just next to his mountain

- lots of cows, rainbow sheep and pigs with saddles

- " uh...so I found these pins of animals and like...no house?"

- "What?"

- "I think the magical Minecraft fairy spawned it into the world?"

- "It's super weird. But I'm gonna kill some cows for their leather"

- "DON'T YOU TOUCH MY COWS!"

- and to your shock, a secret door in the mountain opens and Changbin comes running out

- the door made courtesy of Chan

- "He's got a diamond sword already?!?"

- it's the last thing you scream as he kills you for being near his cows

- and after a round of feeding and breeding, he disappears back into his hole

Hyunjin

- would only be about building

- he would be the first one to have a diamond pickaxe just so he could mine cobblestone faster

- would also get efficiency V just so he could speed run through the mines

- would wander through different biomes for days to collect clay so he could make concrete

- and while you're busy actually playing the game, he would beg for you to pick flowers on your trip so he can dye the concrete different colors

- his first house would be a mansion

- but he would give up half way because he kept falling off the roof and dying

- would forget he is actually playing the game and would get scared when night falls and mobs start spawning in his unlit house

- not like you didn't tell him countless times to put down torches

- but he kept saying they ruined his aesthetic

- but now he keeps dying because mobs are literally waiting at his spawn point, killing him over and over and over again

- and he begs you to set the time to day and kill the mobs for him

- but you just laugh uncontrollably at him because karma really is a bitch

- but in the end, he ends up making an entire city, and invites the others to come and play on the server.

Jisung

- would be just like Chan

- a pure ass baby when it comes to playing minecraft, but super eager to play the game

- his first spawn would be in the middle of the night (because of server)

- and you would try to tell him to not leave the safety of spawn, but he just wouldn't listen

- "Listen, Y/n, I know what I'm doing! I'm a pro at this!"

- and he would run confidently into the night, like the actual idiot that he is

- he wouldn't get too far before he was attacked by all the mobs and got killed

- "Well that was just rude!"

- "Oh my god Jisung, I told you not to do it."

- "Well how was I supposed to know they were going to kill me?!"

- and you can only shake your head at his stupidity

- he would eventually wait until daytime, but unfortunately all of his items would be lost due to despawning

- it's not like either one of you were equipped to go and retrieve his items

- zombies sucked man! And skeletons are the worst!

- but with a new day comes a new adventure and you both head out to find a place to call home

- Jisung would run the entire way, even though he had no food to keep his hunger up

- he also wouldn't be paying attention to where he was going and would fall into a hole

- a very BIG hole

- 'J.One fell from a high place'

- "Really Jisung?"

- "I couldn't see it!"

- playing with Jisung would be a very challenging task, because he would never learn

- because by the time he had diamond armor and ready to fight the wither, he would have fallen from fifteen cliffs, twenty holes in caves and three ravines

- "Jisung if you die one more time I swear to god!"

- 'J.One fell from a high place'

- "That's it! I quit!"

Felix

- You would be so hyped to play with Felix

- You've seen him play other games, so you knew he'd be great at minecraft

- Getting the server had been his idea, the easiest way everyone could play together

- First day of spawn, Felix would already be listing off the things that you would need to accomplish

- wood, cobblestone, iron, seeds, sheep

- it was all just so overwhelming

- by the time you make your first complete set of wooden tools, felix would have iron tools already

- he'd been ten feet underground, digging for more resources while tasking you to find the animals for food, wool and feathers

- easier said then done

- and when he resurfaces and you don't have animals, he would simply sigh and go do it himself

- which would upset you because you would spend hours looking for just one god damn cow

- meanwhile, Felix would take five steps in one direction and come across hundreds of cows!!!

- WHERE DID ALL THESE COWS COME FROM?!?!?

- he'd travel the whole map just to find a jungle to get coco beans

- seriously though, how did he find the fucking jungle?

- it like doesn't exist

- except it does and Minho most likely lives there with all his cats

- Also, there's pandas!!!!!

- Felix would try and tame a panda, even though it's not possible

- When not trying to show off, Felix would be in his crappy little hut (cause hyunjin was still making the city), making cookies and cakes because why wouldn't he?

- at least he shares, unlike someone.....

- Felix would be absolutely unstoppable at the game, while you struggle to get to iron level armor (while trying to keep Jisung alive)

- Felix would have just a big ego

- it's okay though. One strike from Seungmin's sword and he'd be put back into his place

- Revenge is a dish best served Seungmin.

Seungmin

- the worst of the worst

- he would be the one to pretend to not know the game

- but really, he would be a minecraft expert

- read: troll

- every chance he would get, Seungmin would try to do something to ruin your day

- don't ever go mining with him. EVER!

- he would be the one to lead over a creeper to you in a ravine while you're trying to mine diamonds, right next to a lava pool

- the first one to explode wouldn't do any damage, thankfully

- "Don't you dare bring a creeper over here!"

- "I wouldn't."

- somehow, you wouldn't be convinced

- but you decided to trust him

- y/n clown

- you're just mining away at the diamond when a big explosion happens

- and you notice two things

- 1. the diamonds and the surrounding area were blown up

- 2. you were now in the pool of lava, dying

- meanwhile, Seungmin was running away, cackling like the evil little shit that he was

- the holy terror, that's what they would call him

- he would purposefully go out and fight creepers just to gather their gunpowder so he could make dynamite

- no one was safe from him

- except Minho

- because no one knew where he was

I.N.

- Jeongin would spend at least two days researching things for the game before actually playing

- he would want to have some knowledge before walking into hell that was the Stray Kids server

- it's okay though, because everyone loves Jeongin

- really, he wouldn't need to do a thing

- diamond armor, enchanted? check

- enchanted weapons? check

- his own cat and dog? double check

- everyone would do anything for this baby

- but Jeongin isn't one to mooch *coughJisungcough*

- even with all his presents, he would still start with the basics of punching a tree

- while others have found this skills in cooking, mining, falling into holes, redstone and building

- jeongin would be more interested in potions and enchanting

- YOU'RE A WIZARD INNIE!

- Jeongin would quickly master potion brewing

- even if it meant battling the scary blazes in the nether

- huh, so that's why Changbin was screaming so much

- he would be hired by Minho to make him potions of breathing so he could go claim an ocean monument

- Jeongin would only do it if he could help

- surprisingly Minho agrees and for the first time in 84 years, everyone gets to see Minho's character

[danwhobrowses]

Ghost of Tsushima: Thoughts, Ideas and Hopes for DLC and Sequels

So I recently Platinum’d Ghost of Tsushima, I finished the story last week after 30 entries of livestreams which saw a whopping viewership of at most 2 people including one asshole that decided to spoil the end of Act II before I got there because I was playing stealthy and the way I wanted to play. But then wrapped up the Achievements on my own time. After a bit of stewing I’m ready to talk gush about it, including what I liked, a small bit of stuff I disliked and stuff I would suggest for future DLC and Sequel(s)

Spoilers for the Game, unlike that Commenter on my Stream I will not Spoil you on this, it is truly something you should experience for yourself

Because Good Lord, What A Game. Easily my Game of the Year, which compared to all the big hitter titles released is amazing, I mean Crash Bandicoot could still blow me away and Cyberpunk, Watch Dogs, Godfall, AC Valhalla and Miles Morales in waiting but probably not in this way. It is a magnificent game, one made with fantastic care and beauty, but before I go all out, let’s get the negatives out of the way 出る杭は打たれる。: A Flawed Masterpiece Ghost of Tsushima is brilliant but not without its faults. Most of these faults are admittedly minuscule and fixable, but until they are fixed they remain flaws. The biggest disappointment for me with the game was the lack of Japanese lip syncing. I loved the Japanese track, it also highly appealed to me to hear One Piece’s Roronoa Zoro voice Jin, but you have to kinda avoid looking at the mouths because it doesn’t match up, the models still speak in English and it’s a heavy shame that can kill some immersion. I guess they didn’t have the finances for it, because they could’ve done the lip syncs at the same time as they did the English ones if they had the Japanese track too. Combat for the most part was great, aiming could be wonky at times and Jin’s attacks didn’t carry on to a 1 foot ledge, but my main gripe with combat was the Camera getting in the way. It was adjustable most times, but other times it was not. Doing standoffs in the tall grass was night impossible at the later stages without the knees giving us a tell, one standoff I had was completely obstructed by a tree - I’m not making it up, a tree was literally all I saw for the Standoff. You lose so much health for failing a standoff too, bit harmful in later levels. The remaining issues are probably more personal, I didn’t quite like some of the sword kit designs - the ones with fluffy sleeves and I didn’t really like the armor dye you get for 100%ing the achievements, some weapons seemed to lose their luster in later parts of the game (particularly the half bow and Explosive Arrow, the former was only good for killing the angry doggos and the latter only killed Mongols if near another explosive to stack), that one Masako quest mission where you have to follow and pick off Straw Hats one by one without being seen, but will fail if you pull a triple assassination before the outpost where Masako’s lesbian lover was leading them all to so there’s more Straw Hats to blow my cover! (it wasn’t difficult it just annoyed me that it failed me for killing them all early) and the completionist in me hates that there are empty slots in the arrow and blowgun sections, but they can be worked in what I’ll talk about a bit later down the line, alongside some minor loose threads. Also you killed my horse man!

Your horse will accompany you on your entire journey - Ghost of Tsushima UI Message

Don’t you dare lie to me like that again Sucker Punch! Just because you’re named that doesn’t mean you can live up to it, we already lost one horse at the beach! Had to spend the final act with Not-Sora and Kaze with a hole in my heart never to be filled. But with that dealt with, let’s talk about some things I loved about the game

花は桜木人は武士 :  Living into a Legend With these games it is very easy to fall into the Elder Scrolls prototype of an array fun side quests and exploration and a so-so main story. Ghost of Tsushima though decided to have both the array of side quests and exploration and a great, complex and partly tragic story. There were many times I wanted to get back to the main story but held off because I wanted to be prepared. Long distances didn’t feel too bad to travel when the roads were uncharted either thanks to radiant battles, new settlements, vanity gear and side missions to ease you on the way. Additionally, the characters are for the most part fantastic, I cared for the safety of most of my allies and Jin himself, I wanted the Khan dead in a cerebral villain (albeit one whose final battle fell into cowardice) and I was open to the complexities of Ishikawa and Tomoe. I did feel that Shimura was being a tad ungrateful but I think it was intended for us to be frustrated to the edicts of the Samurai code - my frustration led me so much to deep dive to prove myself justified since the code was subjective and many agreed to aspects of ‘win no matter what’ and ‘do what protects the people the most’. Along with the main quest was paired with the character journeys of our allies as well as the Mythic tales which granted some extra strength and challenges to overcome in order to expand Jin’s arsenal. I particularly liked the observation and killing of leaders to learn new stances, as well as the widely acclaimed Stand-Off and the duels. The Arkhamverse fan in me did appreciate the focused hearing for stealth and that assassination speed could be upgraded. The idea of collecting vanity gear, armour dyes and equipment that are remains of the conflict showed that SP had completely immersed their plot into the world of Tsushima, with a great amount of exploration and nuances nodding to Japanese folklore And Tsushima is certainly stunning, it’s amazing that the PS4 can hold this much when we know how the PS5 is meant to be with ray tracing. The landscapes are beauteous which makes exploration and travel much more fulfilling, as well as the photo mode and the scenic builds to some of the major battles. What’s also wonderful is the calligraphy cutscenes for Mythic Tales and the loading screens, some wonderful artistry. Artistry which is added to by the brilliant uses of Haiku spots, Bamboo Strikes, Lighthouses, Shrines, Altars which you bow to, Fox dens where you can pet the Foxxos and even the Hot Springs for some ‘Man-Butt Action’, each positions that fit to Japanese media in soaking in a moment without killing any pace, especially added to the fact that each one contributes to a purpose. I will admit, I chose wrong at the end, I was thinking more of Shimura (said ungrateful uncle)’s honour rather than what Jin would what, feeling that Shimura would’ve done it himself had Jin not. But seeing the spare ending made me wish I chose that one and it’s something I’ll touch on later. But both endings are fitting and tragic for Jin’s journey from Samurai to the Ghost, being inspired by his allies and his connection to Yuna, there has been conflict throughout regarding the line of protection, honour and vengeance explored through other people’s tales that blend together perfectly with the main plot.  It is pretty political as well with the argument presented by Jin and Shimura’s conflict. Samurai while still romanticised were still shown to be bound to the blind loyalty towards the Shogun and Jito, you did not defy because it inspired others to think freely. Jin became a champion of a people by defending the people rather than listening to the jito - represented by the shogunate - and their stringent ideas that the Samurai who failed on the beach would be able to out-muster the force and brutality of the Mongol invasion regardless of the collateral and yet still call that honour. In the current climate in 2020, that hits a chord a little closer than expected. And the main story certainly has their stellar moments, the ups and downs really hit you - like killing my freaking horse! I had to lose Yuriko, Taka and Sora in a single playthrough. Losing Taka was inevitable, but still heartbreaking because of how much we struggled to save him and how much we want to still be Yuna’s friend, but then the highs just blow you away from the opening act, Ghost Stance, raiding Castle Kaneda and Shimura and the final raid at Port Izumi. Also did I mention that you can pet the Foxxos? Because that’s very important, also NPCs walk at your pace most of the time, which is a fantastic addition. I could probably go deeper but there’s other stuff I want to cover, but understand that the world and the story is wonderful and if you’re a fan of Assassin’s Creed, Arkhamverse and just Japanese culture in general this should tick your boxes. And hopefully there’s more to come.

石の上にも三年 : Strait to DLC The sad thing that happens when a good game is over is the void. Even if its days, having nothing left of the game to play is still a shame, and I know that Legends DLC is announced, but multiplayer involving fighting Oni as mythic legends isn’t my pace, I’m still not done with Jin and I feel like there are things we could still do. There are still 3 conflicts Jin’s story never resolved that could still be resolved now, each as multi-layered quests. The first is this ‘Ghost Army’ mentioned by the wagon guy in Omi, we are not leading this so who is? We may not be able to stop them but we could reduce the amount of people thinking we’re leading them to fight. The second is Daizo, if you don’t know that name it’s because the guy is never seen in the game, you only read about him in the Records of ‘Conversations with the Khan’. This Japanese Monk clearly has a thing for the late Khotun and he feels that the Ghost is being a dishonorable monster, this Khan lover is still at large and a confidant of Khotun, we could link with Norio in a quest to ensure he doesn’t rally or try to spread his appreciation of the Khan to others to try and complete Khotun’s work. The final conflict is one that eats me up: How did the Mongols Know About the Poison? Yuriko died showing me how to make the poisons, made more potent from her own herbal poisons which were crushed down, if she didn’t tell and I didn’t tell, who told? Because the Mongols drank the evidence and we could make a story of an Omi village traitor or even someone from Shimura’s camp leaking the info to the Khan to try and preserve ‘honour’. On top of these loose ends I’d very much like to see our allies again, even if they’re just at their home doing their own thing, as well as some other minor side characters like the Tadayori descendant Kaede, Flame Swordsman Bettomaru (who would’ve both been mighty useful with this Mongol affair beyond their sole missions) and the Yarikawa Archer Daikoku, I also would like to see confirmation on Jin and Yuna - there is clearly something there but that could be just me. What is also just me would be the suggestion of a shrine that can let you redo the Shimura decision, it’s not a too ‘out-there’ thing to do either considering we fought a Tengu. The shrine could be for Omoikane, Kami of wisdom and intelligence or Ame-no-Koyane, the ‘First in Charge of Divine Affairs’ which’d subject the player to a gauntlet of bosses past; Ryuzo, Kotun and Shimura, if the player goes against their initial decision, they will trade their ghost armour dye for the other and get a Charm of Pondering, if they stick to their guns they get both ghost armour dyes and a Charm of Strengthened Stance. In similar vein we could have a master Mythic Tale that stacks the duels of those tales into one for another special attack, weapon or armour. It’s also possible that we could add more duels, some remnants trying to avenge Khotun or even some Samurai sent by the Shogun in promise of becoming Jito. Likewise we can use this to complete the weapons set; for the Half Bow, take the Mongols’ poison arrows (which can be a reward for finding who leaked the poison to them) which can just eat at lesser enemies’ health and take a chunk of stronger enemies’ health before resolving out of it, as well as a sticky arrow that could slow enemies or weaken their armour, or a perfume arrow that can mess with the falcons and angry doggo’s senses. For the Long Bow we could have...okay I’m drawing a blank here but I’m not meant to do all the work XD For the Blowgun at least you could have a Blinding Dart to aid in stealth and a Panic Dart to increase chances of Terrify. We could even have a few more upgrades to our ghost weapons and stance combats, even increase the amount of kills Ghost Stance can yield. In addition to more Fox Dens, Shrines, maybe new resources to bolster upgrades, Sword Kits, Haikus, Banners, Flute Songs, dyes and so on. But I know what you’re thinking, we can’t put that all in Tsushima? We’ve covered the entire island and it’s unlikely that SP would make a fictitious island. And to that I say, I have that covered. In the Tsushima Strait between the island and the mainland there is Iki Island, part of the same prefecture and equally ravaged by the Mongols during the invasion, it’s also the base of pirates which can offer a stop point for a Tomoe reunion or simply travel via Umugi Cove. A small bit of expansion wouldn’t hurt, as long as Iki isn’t planned for something else that is.

能ある鷹は爪を隠す : Hopes for a Sequel Now part of me would be content if this was a one and done, the game shines perfectly on its own. But I would not turn one down. Though many would feel that Jin’s journey is done (I even heard a suggestion of Tomoe, I could see that but not right now, maybe for a third) but not me, there’s still a few glaring issues at hand. For one, the Shogun now wants you dead, new clans are moving in on you and there will probably be a new Jito regardless of the ending choice because of Shimura’s failure, Adachi will also need to look at another clan taking its land. There’s also the vacuum left behind by the clans’ subsidiaries; Nagao particularly but also Adachi’s rival clan Kikuchi, there’s easily possibilities to use canon Sō, Abiru, Shōni and Imagawa, there’s also room for Kikuchi Takefusa, who survived both Mongol invasions  . A sequel could offer some clan territorial tensions in that regard as the people of Tsushima side with the Ghost over the mainland. That conflict is one we have touched on in the end of the first, Jin has fought for his country’s safety so how will he act when his country wants him dead? The first was a story of sacrifice perhaps the next can be a story of maintaining his legend, inspiring the mainland Samurai and even redeeming himself in the eyes of the non-Tsushima natives. It’s also worth remembering that Komoda was the beginning of the invasion, and there was a second invasion 6 years later where Tsushima was attacked once more, the death of non-canon Khotun could spark other higher ups of Kublai’s ranks to avenge or clean up for Khotun, Kublai also had counsel from different nations to understand his enemy so we could have an even more vicious and cerebral enemy be made, or even a group of enemies led by advisors like Liu Kan or Yao Shu, maybe even Marco Polo if we move the time after the first invasion. In terms of gameplay we could also see Jin expand from Tsushima to Iki and maybe some more naval warfare, growing in his equipment (like Caltrops, Kusari-Fundo and Suntetsu) and maybe even his weapon, an Ono, Jitte or a Naginata to rotate with his not-yet-made Katana to combat with Samurai or the army of a Mongol threat, maybe even use the Bo-Hiya for ranged fire archery learned from the Hwacha. And like the Mass Effect games (or Dragon Ball Xenoverse if you wanna pick a franchise that didn’t end in a bitter aftertaste) you could have the option to transfer over some data from the PS4 save to the next one, which’d inevitably be on PS5 at the least - also don’t be surprised if this gets a PS5 remaster too, especially if it does win Game of the Year. What I suggested for DLC could be used here too, if there is a sequel with Jin I really, really hope that SP don’t opt for the route of killing Jin (or Yuna) off for effect, I was nervous about the current game ending with Hara Kiri and I’d rather not have that or a downer of a death for the legendary Ghost (I am a happy endings guy after all). An alternative route to go (other than following Tomoe to the mainland to rip off the Ghost) is to work backwards, call it ‘Ghosts of Tsushima’ working towards a story of a more ancient time, where a thief could become a samurai clan. A clan Sakai or Shimura origin would sell in that way too and avoid the idea that we have to start again from zero but still have the more ‘dishonorable’ stealth tactics.

義は険しい山よりも重く、死は大鳥の羽よりも軽い : Conclusion In the end, this game was worth the wait, worth the delays and worth the price tag. I feel like this will be one of the games I’ll fondly remember when thinking of the PS4, which has truly had a stellar library of awesome games like Spider-Man, God of War, the Crash, Ratchet & Clank and Spyro Remasters, DMCV, Jedi: Fallen Order and more. This truly ticked the boxes for the anime nerd within me and the history buff, even the Haikus spurred the poet in me a little too. If anyone hasn’t played this game, they should, and I hope that Sucker Punch realises that people like me want to see more. If it stands alone so be it, but I’m not ready to leave Jin or Tsushima just yet. いってらっしゃい

[molluskwritesfic]

Between Rivers Chapter Three

A Mandalorian can't show their face to anyone - with the exception of immediate family. Although they haven't known each other long, there's definitely something growing between them. But is it enough? When an ex-spy must look beneath the helmet to save Din Djarin's life, there's only one option that allows him to continue following his Creed. Marriage.

This story can also be found on Fanfiction.net and Ao3.

Chapter One - Previous Chapter - This Chapter - Next Chapter

Chapter Three

Morning came gently on Movet. The sun’s rays found the mountaintops long before it reached the valleys, setting the snow on the peaks ablaze with white fire, which in turn reflected into the lower regions and cast them in an ethereal glow. 

Din, of course, was awake long before then. He’d slept well on the bed of soft furs, having removed most of his armor save for the helmet. By the time he’d decided to sleep, he had relaxed enough to believe that the quarry had no ill intentions towards him, but that hadn’t stopped him from wedging the desk chair under the door and drifting off with his blaster in hand. 

He took the predawn birdsong as his signal to start the day. Each piece of armor went back into place like scales. Despite the battered and worn nature of each piece, despite the dents and scratches - some present when he’d received it, others added since - he buckled each in place with reverence. His armor was an extension of himself. It kept him alive. It was his Creed. The Way.

When everything was in place, he was again tempted back into the front rooms by the smell of cooking. He made his way back to the kitchen, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight of a stranger fussing over a pan of bacon and eggs. 

His hand had actually flown to his blaster before he recognized the elegant heart shaped face and squat build. Despite not having looked up at his entrance, a small amused smile twitched on the quarry’s lips. 

“Glad to know my disguise is effective,” she said brightly. 

Her hair was a little shorter now, hanging loose around her shoulders instead of draping down her back in a braid. The auburn hair he’d come to associate with her had been smothered by a rich shade of raven black. It was still damp from being rinsed. Beneath the smell of bacon was the bitter tang of dye. 

Din nodded curtly. “It is.”

He was unexpectedly disappointed. Not that his opinion mattered in the slightest, but he’d thought the original fiery auburn had suited her quite well. 

She hummed her appreciation and slid half of the bacon and eggs into a plate, which she passed to him, saying, “Well, we can’t all maintain anonymity behind a helmet, Mandalorian.”

“I suppose not.” 

Her eyes were different too. Dark brown.

He tilted his head curiously. 

Her brow furrowed for a moment as she studied him, then relaxed with an easy smirk. “Oh, the eyes! Colored contacts.”

“Huh.” He had to hand it to her, if he had just seen her in passing, he never would have known. “It’s… very good.”

She nodded at the half-forgotten plate he held. “Eat. I will tend the olfdo, and then we may leave.”

~0~0~0~ . ~0~0~0~

Half an hour later, they set out to find the Razor Crest. Din described the small clearing he’d landed in and where it was in reference to the river. The quarry said that she already knew.

He didn’t ask how.

As agreed, he didn’t comment on the blaster she tucked in her waistband or the knife hidden within her boot, though he did pay careful attention to them - just in case she changed her mind about their deal.

It was a long walk, but a nice one. Yesterday he had been in hunting mode and couldn’t afford to admire the sunlight filtering through the monolithic evergreen trees - even as he slunk through them. Now, he was able to appreciate the way the spongy carpet of lichen and fallen pine needles absorbed the sound of his footfalls as well as the faint hum of birdsong and summer insects that disguised his modulated breaths. Small mammals scurried through the underbrush, occasionally startling and diving back into burrows. 

Some of the wolves - or olfdo, as the quarry called them - trailed after them for a while, weaving in and out of underbrush and snapping playfully at the insects they stirred up as they went. But eventually they melted one by one into the foliage.

He and the quarry chatted as they walked. Din found himself starting to enjoy her company. Although she neatly skirted any indirect inquiries about why she had a bounty on her or why she chose such an isolated place to retire, she was more than happy to discuss the olfdo, the landscape, and the Movetian lifestyle. 

As expected, she was a jack of all trades. She talked woodworking, hunting, fishing, tanning, and local flora and fauna. Apparently she had a very large  underground greenhouse where she grew vegetables and wildflower seedlings all year long. 

He asked her what else she had hidden underground.

She chuckled knowingly, a sly glint in her dark eyes. “The essentials.”

Din had no idea what that meant, but was privately relieved that she’d been ready to strike a deal instead of making him work for her payload. 

When they reached the energy perimeter, he was surprised to see it live and buzzing with electricity, as he hadn’t put it back up after deactivating it when he crossed. The quarry deactivated it with practiced ease and let him through. 

He looked up from watching her recouple the lines to see Nana, the olfdo from the day before, standing on the other side and looking a little dejected. She twitched her ears at the Mandalorian and wagged her tail slowly.

“They gonna be okay while you’re gone?” 

The quarry didn’t bother looking up from her work. “Yes. They have food.”

He hated to point out the obvious, but did so anyway. “And if you don’t come back?”

She sniffed. “They can also hunt.”

He nodded slowly, folding his arms across his chest. “There enough game within the perimeter?”

She nodded distractedly. “Mhm. Most of the time. The fielkir… the… the elk-deer… They jump straight over the barrier and come in and out all the time.”

Din grunted in acknowledgement.

“And, worse case, the olfdo can leave and hunt beyond,” she went on. “They do not like to, but the electricity doesn’t slow the adults down much…”

Din filed that away for later.

“...but it keeps the young ones in. And most predators out.”

His head tipped to the side. “The Olarba?”

The barrier hummed back to life. The quarry turned to face him, expression dark. “Most of the time.”

From there, it didn’t take long to reach the Crest. By then, it was well into the afternoon and the small clearing he’d stowed the ship in was slanted with golden light. 

The quarry hummed her approval as she padded across the mossy ground, appraising the blaster cannons with an experienced eye. “Pre-Empire. Solid design. You’ve done well to keep her from the Imperial impounds.”

Din tapped at his vambrace, unlocking the hatch and lowering the ramp before leading the way onboard. The darkness within was welcoming after the long trek across unfamiliar woodland. A few of the lights flickered on, but didn’t offer much besides illuminating the dull metal walls and a few of the dusty crates shoved into the corners. It was empty and decrepit, but it was home. Or at least the closest thing he had to one.

The quarry’s soft footsteps on the ramp reminded him that there was more to do before he could relax. Din turned to face her. She stood between him and the hatch, framed by sunlight. He couldn’t make out her eyes in the darkness, but her stance was non threatening and relaxed. 

“What’s the plan from here?” He asked, a little uncertain.

The quarry peered around his shoulder, her eyes flickering around the bay before settling on the carbonite freezer and the other bounties stowed behind it. She nodded satisfactorily to herself.

“Your normal method is the freezer, I take it. We can conclude our business now, then.”

Din frowned. “You sure?”

She felt inside one of her coat’s interior pockets and came away with a hefty pouch of credits. She bounced it once in her hand before holding it out to him. 

When she spoke again, it was without her usual brusque Movetian accent, but with a different lilt that sounded as if it had been derived from Huttese and then lightly textured with slave cant. She delivered it flawlessly.

“Yeah. It’s the easiest way. For both of us, I think.” 

He was still processing the sudden change in tone as she trotted over to the carbonite freezer and settled back into the harness. He finally followed, the credit pouch held forgotten in his hand. 

She looked up at him expectantly.

Din hesitated, but wasn’t entirely sure why. Yeah, it was easier. Especially for him. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to being alone on his ship, deep in hyperspace where he could take off his helmet without constantly having to be on guard. But he’d found her to be easy company, something that didn’t happen often in his field of work, and he was at loathe to lose it so quickly. 

A glimmer of surprise crossed her face. She studied him, her brown furrowed with concern. “Is there a problem?”

He flushed hot with embarrassment, but didn’t outwardly express it. 

“No,” he grunted. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I’ve been in carbonite before,” she added. “I know what to expect. When you’re ready.”

He nodded once, then pressed the button on the side of the harness. When the fog cleared, he was left staring at her pretty face, stiff and lifeless under a coat of cold metal. Her eyes had squeezed closed at the last moment, her brow furrowed, frozen in an expression of mild discomfort. 

Despite knowing that this was what she wanted, Din couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Would it have been wrong to insist that she stay out of the carbonite until they reached Nevarro? He didn’t have much to offer, but a part of him would’ve liked the opportunity to return her hospitality. 

He scoffed at himself. Yeah, field rations and an uncomfortable bunk. Nice, Djarin.

The trip to Nevarro felt longer than usual. Din spent the trip doing his best to push the quarry out of his mind. He still had questions, of course. She was strange, yes, but fascinating. The name on the fob was Ena Sma, but from what he’d seen, he doubted that it was her real one. Just how many aliases did she have? And why?

He lost the chance to ask when he turned the fob over to Karga. He didn’t watch her be unloaded from the cargo hold of his ship. 

He never tried to figure out what happened to her after, if she cleaned up the issue with the spice dealers or got killed in the process. He tried to convince himself that he didn’t care, but caught himself toying with the idea of visiting Movet again. 

More than once.

Each time, he roughly dismissed the thought. What did it matter to him? She’d kept her end of the deal and he was 10,000 credits better for it. Part of his end had been to stay away from her little homestead. Not to mention that he had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t be welcomed back with open arms, 

Needless to say, he didn’t think he’d ever see her again. 

~0~0~0~ .

[piermanwalter]

Thief’s Apprentice: Fashion of Various Classes of the Living and Dead

IN GENERAL

Buttons don’t exist in Veilheim because they haven’t been invented. There is no need for buttons because the living tend to first lose their fingers to the plague and aren’t dextrous enough to use buttons. Revenants are sewn into their clothes and never take them off unless they get totally destroyed, so they have no need for buttons either. 

Revenants and the living have different attitudes towards metal. For the living, gold-plated things and gold alloys look the same as pure gold. Revenants can sense substances, so if they wear gold, they prefer to wear pure gold. The alternatives are just sad.

Some professions wear an unofficial uniform, to be easily recognised, and also because these clothes are practical for how they work, and also because I can’t be assed to make a custom model for everyone. For example, shepherds never have prosthetics to advertise their ready supply of meat. Judges wear tall crowned helmets because they are literally and metaphorically higher up than anyone else in court. Reapers heavily armor their ankles to prevent accidental dismemberments and are shirtless, to show that their terrifying metal tools are for farming, not fighting, and also to prevent living reapers from suffering from heat, and also because reaping is an awesome and sexy job.

Revenants move their prosthetics by imbuing them with their souls, and the same happens with clothes. Since fabric is organic and made to store the original being’s, whether it be a silk worm or a flax plant, soul, human souls can’t make a good enough foothold in the material to move it. Still, revenant clothing is integral for sensing and personal esteem, so changing is more like a surgical procedure. Wearing a new outfit feels like nerve damage. Your skin and subcutaneous fat has died, so you were peeled and replaced with more skin and fat, and you can’t feel anything until your nerves heal. 

The debutante penchant for inventing new fashions and constantly changing clothes is similar to plastic surgery. There is the same impression of frivolous spending and vanity, but also advertising the size of your soul that enables you to be comfortable with your new outfit within hours, and also the strength of your resolve to have your skin replaced over and over. The debutantes may be capricious and wasteful, but they are not cowards.

THE DEAD

The dead in Veilheim like to wear wool heavily dyed in bright colors with metal, such as Mercury Red and Cobalt Blue. This is because revenants don’t see and instead send out tiny pieces of their souls to feel distance and substances. Their impression of color is based off how concentrated various substances are, so while the living may see fabric as too saturated with dirt to identify color, revenants can feel the copper in the fabric and know how green it is. 

Wool, as the hair of sheep, carries plague so it’s considered unsafe for the living to wear. Revenants wearing plant-based fabrics is seen as selfish. It’s also considered rude for revenants to wear multiple colors or patterns, because it forces people to expend more of their soul to see all the colors and recognise you. The long ribbons, while stylish, also serve a practical purpose. Since revenants don’t feel or have a sense of balance, if the ribbons are pointing in a direction, that’s probably where down is, and if they are waving a lot, there might be wind.

Quail Racer

As our exemplar of revenant poverty in Veilheim, Quail Racer doesn’t wear clothes, has no remaining flesh, and her prosthetics barely keep her together. Based off how tall she is and how healthy and unwarped her bones are, Quail Racer must have caught the plague late in life and died soon after. Her memory and mental faculties are so bad that she can’t obey orders or find any gainful employment. Instead, she devotes herself to taking care of, racing, and betting on quails. Quail Racer is seen as a cautionary tale of what happens if you die before your time, but she has more money than it may seem. Instead of spending it on herself, she spends it on quails. 

You can argue that revenants with poor mental faculties and a stunted understanding of the world are more carefree and can devote their time and energy to their own happiness instead of the well-being of the city as a whole without guilt, but they can only live so long like this before wearing down into senseless bones, and are often victims of crimes, ranging from petty robbery to being kidnapped for secret illegal slavery to being taken apart for raw materials. Quail Racer is much beloved by the quail racing community, so nothing too bad has happened to her yet.

Practical Cartographer

Practical Cartographer tries to present as the average Veilheimer in order to spread news of the great city to other travellers. His prosthetics are better than most can afford up front, but some revenants purposefully put themselves into debt to get a better body. Since Practical Cartographer scrounges his map materials from garbage, his business has almost no operational cost and he is no longer in debt. Most revenants of average means died before before the plague rendered them bedridden and were not rich enough in life to learn an intellectual craft, and so have a clear career path in manual or industrial labor. Although somewhat skilled and artistic, Practical Cartographer’s maps are so obviously mass-produced at low quality that for census reasons he counts as a common industrial laborer instead of an artisan, something that other people mock him for, but he doesn’t care about.

Often poorer revenants wear more pieces of clothing, so that if one piece gets destroyed, they don’t have to replace their whole outfit. Conversely, richer revenants often wear clothes in a single piece so they can flex on replacing an entire outfit. This is not an ironclad rule, so whenever Practical Cartographer gets hit with, “Why do you dress like a laborer?”, he can hit back with, “I dress like the Veiled Goddess. Are you calling our Goddess a laborer?”

Master Computer

Master Computer was spoiled in life and given the best education in finance and math, and after she died, it would be a terrible waste if she didn’t make a name for herself. Although she was not severely infected before she died, she has worked around her terrible short-term memory via prosthetic devices and communicating mostly via writing. Computers are hired to do a lot of math and take detailed records, and can be identified by the abacuses, plumb bobs, clocks, and other devices attached to their heads. Since Master Computer sends out her subordinates and apprentices to measure and record things, she has no measuring devices and is instead rigged with a huge opulent abacus with gold beads to do calculations as quickly as possible. 

She is rich, but not monumentally rich. She can afford to wear lots of gold, but not as much gold as turbo plutocrats like the civil servant triumvirate. Instead of spending on fine materials, she instead spends on prosthetics. Most cities in Surenia rarely have revenants deciding to look much different from a regular living human, but in Veilheim, where death is normalised and the finest prosthetics are made, revenants can be gigantic and/or recast in bizarre inhuman shapes if they can afford it. Master Computer can be seen and heard from far away, towering over most people and clicking and clacking her gold abacus beads and her 11 metal legs.

THE LIVING

To avoid excess plague and toxic metal exposure, the living in Veilheim tend to wear undyed plant-based fabrics. It’s fine for the living to wear patterns because they can see. Some late stage plaguebearers decide to wear metal dyes anyway because they figure they will die of the plague before they get metal poisoning. Organic dyes are also worn, but revenants can’t see light, so the finest of murex purple dyes comes across to them as a nasty greenish brown. If revenants are bad at differentiating organic substances, how do they see hair and skin color? Revenants can sense the souls of others and can get an impression of how a living being looks based off their own self image.

It’s good to keep track of your bones as they fall out. After you die, you can get them reattached. People heavily ravaged by the plague used to plait them together with ribbons, but as painkillers, health care, and prosthetics for the living improved, previously bedridden people could walk around, so the new fashion is to wear your bones wired to a ring for convenience.

Kaolin

It’s very tragic when a child gets the plague. Some children are born to plaguebearing mothers, and are guaranteed to die within a year. Some children get infected on their own and can no longer live with their family in the plague-free district. They lack the strength to endure years of being consumed by plague, and are guaranteed to go mad after they die, so plaguebearing children are allowed to go wherever they want and do whatever they want within reason. Since the children aren’t expected to live long enough to grow taller, they get one new outfit and that’s it. What remains of their lives is devoted to fun. A special hollow tower was made for them to throw themselves into when they can’t stand it anymore. Sometimes children who are too far gone to climb the tower will beg for passerby to kill them. This is horrible, but the alternative is to wait for children to slowly die in agony on their own, and then the resulting mad revenants will wreak havoc. Another alternative is rounding up plaguebearing children and killing them, which nobody wants to do.

Kaolin is smart enough to understand how precarious it is to be a plaguebearing child and has plans to return to sanity after dying. This is one reason why Kaolin is so interested in the bros: two of them have child-sized skeletons, but they are mostly not mad. Someone cared about them enough to raise them after they died.

Kios

Kios was lucky enough for the plague to first affect her spine, so she is guaranteed some level of sanity after she dies. After a life of working in breweries, farms, and distilleries, Kios has a very good understanding of plant fermentation and preservation and now spends most of her time on street corners in the market district smoking outrageous amounts of opium, playing board games, and giving fairly good perfume mixing and vegetable pickling advice. There’s no guarantee how she will turn out after dying, but Kios assumes she will become a farmer or reaper or small-time distiller or working in Agriculture Scientist’s office. 

The living want to show off how infected they are, but at the same time want to stay otherwise healthy. Hands and feet are often bandaged because they are most easily damaged. Heads are also bandaged because the thin skin of the scalp is always sloughing off and ears are leaking infectious fluids. It’s a point of pride to get the plague in a more unusual place. Kios thus has a very good reason to wear a backless dress. She lost a fair amount of her hands and feet, so she has a pretty decent ring of bones.

Astragalus Rambush

Rambush owns most of the aforementioned breweries and distilleries. As the first living person to owe taxes under the new law, he maintains an air of superiority over revenants complaining about getting stabbed through the ribcage because he got away with paying one third of what he owed by getting stabbed through the hand that was already lost to plague. His nose and lips have rotted off, but he can’t cover them otherwise he will suffocate and drown in infectious fluids, so everyone just has to deal with that. 

Rambush expects to have some level of control over the family business after he dies, and uses his status as a plaguebearer to negotiate favorable deals with revenants for his family, even though he hasn’t seen most of them since he got the plague. By wearing a cloak that is purple to the living and patterns visible to revenants, Rambush hopes to be at least partially purple to everyone, even though it’s technically an assholish thing to do. Although metal prosthetics are starting to be made for the living, they were designed for revenants and are very hard to use. Since Rambush lost an arm and a leg, his ring of bones is impressive and frightening to behold.

[sapphires-and-gold-fics]

Fictober 2019 Day 5: “I might just kiss you.”

Fandom: Game of Thrones / ASOIAF

Characters: Jaime Lannister / Brienne of Tarth

Read on AO3

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Note: College AU. Why yes, this does take place in a library... Professor Tully of the Medieval History Department at Stormland University (Go Stags!) doesn’t like tests. The mysteries of the past had always been her specialty, and she loved giving her students a challenge that would not only force them to work with someone else to reach a goal, but give them some access to the restricted section of the library where the oldest and most valuable volumes were kept, encouraging both teamwork and responsibility.

Stormland University was home to the most extensive epistle and journal collection in Westeros, though budgets being what they were, the upkeep wasn’t as up to par as it should have been. They were still losing a volume or two every year to poor climate control or misuse. So this term, Catelyn only offered access to the restricted books in one of her classes - MH302 - UNSOLVED HISTORIES - as a way to control the use of the texts but also recognizing that this group of students could help perpetuate the historical knowledge kept there in the basement.

Brienne Tarth was a brilliant student, except in maths; she was actually good at maths, but begrudgingly so. And as a history major she was hoping to not need maths so much. Her compatriots in Professor Tully’s class were for the most part very bright as well, but there was only one other history student - everyone else was an art, political science or anthropology major, all trying either to meet the course requirements, or trying to gain some knowledge adjacent to their course of study. The only other History major was Jaime Lannister, a senior working on his 10th term because he’d messed around too much in his second term, and he’d missed his 9th term due to some personal thing. Catelyn had had him in classes before and had almost not accepted him for this one, but she wanted him out of him out of her hair sooner rather than later, and if granting him access to this course would speed up his exit, then that worked for her.

Brienne had been in classes with Jaime before, too. And it had never gone terribly well. He was always poking at her for being too tall to sit in the front of the class (could she help it that shorter people always arrived early and took up the back seats?), or he would ask to borrow a pen and then never give it back - little things that all added up to a headache. In her second year, they’d been in a class on medieval languages together - that’s where he picked up her nickname. She’d hoped he’d have dropped it by now but not Jaime. Jaime with “wench” was like a direwolf with a bone.

The pairs for the midterm project were picked at random in week 3 of the course. When Catelyn had said Brienne’s name immediately following Jaime’s, he’d poked her shoulder with one of her pilfered pens and said “Hey wench, that’s us!” She’d rolled her eyes and ignored him.

In week 4, Catelyn assigned subjects to the pairs, also at random, giving them four weeks to do the research and pull their project together. One pair was assigned a project on the fabled fashion of dragon-age armor. Another got assigned a project on the missing mythical weapons of Westeros - Excalibur and Oathkeeper, and the like. Still another got assigned a project on the mysterious death of King Renly Baratheon.

Brienne would have loved any of these, especially the latter. But it wasn’t to be.

Instead, Brienne and Jaime had been assigned the unknown fate of the lost maidens - following the trails of Sansa and Arya Stark.

Jaime had rolled his eyes, but Brienne being an excellent student had already marked out the necessary research periods on her calendar, and had reserved time in the restricted section of the library for her and Jaime. He dragged his heels and she had to pull him to the basement by the wrist, but they finally sat down and divvied up the project, taking over a large table at the far end. The library assistant for the restricted section was a bear of a man who glared at Jaime until he took his feet off of the table, but otherwise he was innocuous.

They’d been on the trail for two weeks (or rather, Brienne had) when they found a record of a person clearly matching Arya’s description disembarking a ship in Braavos. The harbormaster had even noted the presence of her narrow shortsword--

“Needle,” whispered Jaime, seemingly half-engaged.

Brienne looked up at him in surprise. She didn’t think he paid attention in class at all, but unless he’d been doing some independent reading, he couldn’t have known the name of Arya’s sword otherwise.

They had established from journals of the maester for the Night’s Watch that Arya had been secreted from the capital after her father the Hand’s execution, by a member of the Night’s Watch. He’d sent a raven ahead saying as much in code, yet neither Yoren nor Arya had made it. But the existence of those missives alone indicated that the Boltons had never possessed the real Arya, a fact that had long been argued in historical circles. Furthermore, there was slight evidence that she might have spent time in a prisoner camp at Harrenhall with some Braavosi, and it was that information that led them to examine the harbormaster’s ledger. She had most certainly not been present when her family was slaughtered at the Twins, else the Freys would have claimed it. The next logical step for her had been to go east.

Sansa had been a very different story - in some ways, she’d been easier to track. Unlike Arya, she would have been more inclined to trust the people around her, and that included people who were close to her family. The records from the Eyrie were incredibly brittle and Brienne didn’t like trusting them in Jaime’s hands, but he’d sworn to her and the library assistant that he would wear gloves and be gentle with the tomes. He kept this promise for three days by not touching them at all and instead playing a game on his phone. But then slowly he picked up the work.

In the middle of their second week working on the project, he met her outside the library with two coffees - one in hand which he gave her, and one clutched in his elbow which he shifted into his hand once it was free. She’d seen him fumble with books and such in his right hand before, but she’d also seen him playing the phone game with his right hand.

She didn’t think on it too hard, instead she thanked and then immediately admonished him for bringing coffee when he knew there was no food and drink allowed in the restricted section. He offered her a lopsided smile in return and just said “Sure, but isn’t it nice to catch up out here in the cold with something to warm you up before we go back to the basement?” She’d nodded reluctantly and thanked him again before swallowing a few gulps and then depositing the half-full cup in the trash by the door.

From that point on, he and Brienne pored over their separate books side by side, translating for one another when the words were too faded or obscure or, for Jaime, simply moving around on the page too much.

They had confirmation that Sansa had arrived in the Vale, but from there the trail seemed to go cold. There was mention of a girl about the same age, but the description was wrong. Brienne thought it unlikely that a maester would lie, but Jaime had never trusted maesters, so he kept digging. When the trail went cold, he wrote down a handful of words on a bright pink post-it and told Brienne he was going to go “look for something else.” She assumed that meant that he was going to go hide in the stacks and play his game again. It was no matter, really. They’d tracked Arya, and that was more than they’d expected - it would be enough to focus the project on her.

Jaime had been gone for 10 minutes before Brienne realized that his phone was still sitting on the table - wherever he’d gone, he’d apparently gone in earnest. She got up and stretched her legs and decided to go in search of him.

After another 10 minutes she found him on the floor in one of the dustier corners amid some familiar volumes from the Night’s Watch, his knees bent, with what looked like a very heavy thick text propped up on them. The light here was dim, and he was squinting to read the words on the page. He heard her approach and looked up at her only briefly before patting the linoleum next to him. She walked over and sat down, bringing her knees up as well.

“How can you read back here, it’s so dark!”

He hushed her. “I think I found something.”

“Jaime I thought we agreed that Arya went to Braavos. We don’t know that she ever made it north.”

He looked at her wide-eyed with mischief, “We did. I’m not trailing Arya. I’m trailing Sansa. And I think she made it. I matched up the approximate time frames, and it’s all here. The girl that’s mentioned being at the Eyrie after Sansa - I would swear that it’s the same girl that’s described arriving at Castle Black.”

“Jaime, brown hair and blue eyes - that could be anyone. Gods, it could even be any one of Robert Baratheon’s bastards - it could be a literal white walker.”

“And there’s nothing about her chewing on anyone - pretty sure this was a living girl. And not brown, chestnut. The maesters at both the Eyrie and Castle Black use that exact word. Chestnut - it’s practically auburn. Sansa stark had red hair… they could have used some kind of dye to dim it but the red would have continued to show through.”

“Wasn’t the maester at the wall blind?”

“Yes!”

There was a loud shhing sound from a few stacks over.

“Yes,” Jaime whispered, moving closer to her, “This is what I’m talking about. Someone must have given the maester that description with purpose. Perhaps it was Sansa herself. Perhaps she used the same words that Petyr Baelish used in order to protect herself.”

Brienne wasn’t convinced. “It’s a stretch…”

“Wench, she was escorted by a knight.”

Brienne’s breath caught. “Well that’s unusual. A woman at the wall on its own is not unheard of especially during that time, but a knight for an escort?”

“A very tall knight. No other description. I thought - and you’ll probably think this is a stretch for sure - but I thought maybe it was that knight who’d shielded her in the capital. The dog one - the Hound.”

Brienne shook her head. “That is a stretch...but not impossible. There was another person looking for her at the time as well. Also quite tall. Fashioned themselves a knight but they weren’t one… I always wondered what happened...”

“If it were the Hound they might have mentioned his face.”

“If it were the heir to the Evenstar they might have mentioned she was a woman.”

Jaime’s lips curled up into a sly grin, and he swallowed. “You’re right… and I think they did. Later on - in the texts we looked at before - there’s mention of a woman sparring with the men. If it was her, that makes--”

“--a lot of sense, yeah. Holy shit, Jaime.”

He gave her a rueful smile and looked back down at the book.

“All that time we were looking at the Night’s Watch stuff I thought you were playing Candy Crush or something.”

He tilted his head like a dog and peered at her, the realization of what she meant coming startlingly across his face. “Oh, the phone!”

He brushed at his pockets.

“You left it on the table - that’s why I came back here, I figured maybe you were actually onto something.”

“Ah… I’m sorry, Brienne. I promise I wasn’t distracted, it’s not actually a game - not really.”

His use of her actual name should not have thrilled her as much as it did. “It doesn’t matter--”

“--no, no. It does to me - I want you to understand, I’ve been paying attention the whole time, but I have to keep at it. My physical therapist says that my grip might not improve but if I can work on my dexterity in my fingers then I should actually be able to get back to typing okay.”

“Your… what happened?”

“My sister. She… well there’s no nice way to say it, she had her giant boyfriend beat me up and then while I was on the ground, she ran over my hand with her car.”

“Oh my god!”

“Shhhhh,” said the faraway stacks.

“Oh my god, Jaime.”

“Yeah...she kinda sucks.”

He was easing the heavy book off his knees but she saw his right hand struggling, so she reached over and helped him lower the tome to the ground. Their faces were very close while she reached across him and he caught her start to blush bright strawberry in the dim fluorescent light before yanking her hand back to her side.

“So… does that mean… I don’t mind - being the one to type up the report and stuff.”

He grinned. “Actually the practice might be nice. Can we just do it together?”

“Yeah of course.”

“Cool.”

They sat staring at each other’s hands. Suddenly Brienne started, and grabbed his arm.

“Wait, Jaime - you found her! You found Sansa Stark. And maybe someone else, too. Someone really important. Oh my gods, Jaime - this is… this is very good.”

“Well we did it together, right?”

“I mean yeah but if you hadn’t… gods, Jaime I might just kiss you! I can’t believe you found her!” She froze then, and the strawberry blush was back. So was his sly grin.

He forced himself to look at her eyes and not her lips, and then he brought his right hand over and slipped his weaker fingers under hers on his arm, using the slightest pressure, like he was trying to squeeze it. “Maybe we can save the kissing for somewhere where we’re less likely to get asbestos poisoning.”

“Jaime, I--”

“We have a week to finish this project. Let’s get through it. If we haven’t killed each other by the time we turn it in, have coffee with me - finally - and then I might just kiss you first.”

His eyes were wild watching the tides churn in hers, but she pursed her lips and grinned, nodding.

He exhaled, coughing at the dust that had settled around them. “Let’s get out of here, wench. I’d really like to live to see next week.”

They made note of the tome number and headed back to the table, his right hand in her left.

[frostyalice]

fic: you’ll be mine and i’ll be yours (2k)

“She had questioned him about it once, but he had shrugged it off. “I like the idea of putting something on me forever that I chose to be there,” he had replied simply”.

(or: the one where they get tattoos (canon au, I guess)

 a/n: you guys will have to suspend your disbelief for this one. ps. mentions of scars, bc, it’s jasper and probably questionable tattooing procedure

 They’re walking down the street when a particular man catches Alice’s eye, and a second later, Jasper’s as well. Alice watches her mate as he follows the man moving towards them with his eyes. She sees his gaze linger on his heavily tattooed arm. Jasper shakes his head a little and Alice quickly ducks her head down when a smile threatens to overtake her face. Her emotions must betray her, though because Jasper nudges her and quirks an eyebrow. She just shakes her head and tugs him forward. Even though his legs are much longer than hers, he lets her take the lead, which suits her just fine.

 See, Alice had heard some rumors – and, more reliably, has seen a vision – about a vampire nomad, Luke, who has figured out how to tattoo vampires.  She doesn’t know the logistics – something about vampire teeth dipped in venom –  but the vision of this vampire, skin pale and beautiful. And covered in silvery designs – tattoos – almost like scars, but thinner and more delicate, has convinced her enough; it is possible. She knows Jasper has always been fascinated by the idea of tattoos.

 She had questioned him about it once, but he had shrugged it off. “I like the idea of putting something on me forever that I chose to be there,” he had replied simply.

 But Alice knew it had a deeper meaning than that. She knew, how different her mate’s battle scars made him feel. Surrounded by a beautiful family, not to mention, one of the most beautiful vampires in existence, arguably, has made him look at himself differently. She knew he made it a habit to not spend a lot of time looking at himself in mirrors, and she knew her husband knew that she saw them as part of him – and she would always think he’s the most breathtaking creature on this planet. Still, whenever visitors ran into them, the aversion they showed when they saw him versus the other members of their family, especially Rosalie, always reminded him that he was different.

 All the vampires they’ve met had been so beautifully different, in personality, gifts, looks, lifestyles and views of the world. But one thing they all had had in common was their smooth, unblemished skin. While Jasper’s scars were worn like armor down in the South, Alice knew what an anomaly her mate appeared as to all these beautiful strangers. Here, they looked at him as if the armor had been stripped away and left something ugly underneath.

 Alice almost hisses at the thought, but shakes herself out of her thoughts. Now was as good as time as any to bring the idea up she supposes. Slowing down so she’s less skipping and more walking to match her husband’s, she places her other hand on his forearm, to get his attention.

 Jasper makes a curious sound in his throat. Not a man of many words, her husband was. Alice doesn’t mind. She does enough talking for the both of them.

 “What do you think about tattoos?” she starts with. Easy. Lead him into it, she thinks.

 Not getting it yet, Jasper shrugs. “They’re nice. I appreciate some of the designs I’ve seen on people.”

 Alice nods in agreement. “Do you think they would look good on… me?”

 Jasper almost trips. Okay, all or nothing now, apparently. Jasper looks around and lowers her voice to a volume she knows humans won’t be able to hear. Of course, she has no trouble. “What?” he starts with. “How in the world would you get a tattoo?”

 Alice doesn’t answer at first, but she feels just positively ecstatic and quite pleased with herself, and she knows her mate can feel it in her.

 “Alice…”

 “Yes, Jasper?”

 “What did you do?”

 Alice feigns offence. “I have done nothing.” Jasper huffs. She shrugs. “I may know a guy.”

 She has to pull on him at the last second to keep her husband from knocking over a lamp post by walking straight into it.

 “What do you mean by ‘you know a guy’?” A beat. “Who is he?”

 “You’re cute when you’re jealous,” Alice answers with instead.

 “I’m not jealous,” Jasper replies immediately. “What’s his name?”

 “Luke,” Alice replies, back on track. “I saw him.” She knows Jasper understands his significance.

 “And he can,” Jasper hesitates. “Actually do this?”

 “Looks like it to me,” she confirms.

 She watches him mull it over for a few moments. “Alright,” he says with a smile.

 Alice doesn’t even try to tamper down her feelings of excitement. In fact she can feel it reflecting off her mate as well. “Yeah?” she says softly.

 Jasper just bends himself almost in half to press a quick kiss to her cheek in answer. Quickly, but not too quickly – there are humans around – Alice releases her hold on her husband’s hand only to hop onto his back. She presses a quick kiss to his neck, where the old scars are the most clustered. “I love you,” she says unnecessarily.

 Jasper just keeps walking, casually. “You are the light of my life,” he states, not casual at all.

 *

 The vampire, Luke, lifts his head when they walk in. He opens his mouth to greet them, but then gets his first real look at them. He gets his first real look at Jasper, specifically. In a flash, he’s on his feet, a few feet away from them. He’s about to growl when –

 “Oh, that really isn’t necessary,” Alice greets. She wraps her hand around her mate’s to make him appear less threatening. But mostly, to keep Jasper from leaping in front of her. It was never good for Jasper to go in any kind of defensive when vampires reacted like this, they had found. “Hi Luke, I’m Alice, this is Jasper,” she introduces. “He won’t hurt you” – she feels herself being yanked from the present for a moment before she’s back – “much,” she adds.

 Jasper looks at her, confused. Alice waves him off as she watches the other vampire relax slightly.

 “How can I help you?”

 “We’d like tattoos!” She says in excitement.

 Luke freezes. “How do you know about that?”

 Whoops, her vision hadn’t exactly told her that he did this secretly. “Heard some rumors,” she says, hoping he’ll let it go. Thankfully, he does.

 “Well, what are we getting, then?” the young vampire asks, moving to clear off a chair by his dirty looking table.

 No need to be real sterile, I guess, Alice thinks. She pulls out a small drawing and hands it over. “Just this, please.”

 She already knows what they’re both getting. Earlier, when the idea was first brought up, she had seen Jasper decide to try to keep it a surprise, but then realized how impossible that would be when it came to this. So they had worked on the ideas for both of the tattoos together.

 She sighs at the thought.

 (“You were the brightest light to ever come into my life, and even when you’re not close, I can always feel your warmth.”

 Alice had always known she’d get something to complement it. “For years, I had wandered alone in the dark. No memories, just the vision of you and our family to keep me going. You guided me before I even knew my name or understood what I was or who I was.”)

 “And where do you want this?”

 Alice reaches her arm around so she tap the back of her shoulder. “Right here, please.” Luke quickly draws it on and flits away to get two mirrors so she can see it. “Oh, it’s just lovely!” Alice exclaims.

 “Alright,” Luke says, pulling out a box. “Let’s get this started.”

 “Wait a minute,” Jasper cuts in. Alice was beginning to wonder how long he’d stay quiet. “How exactly does this work?”

 “Essentially, I’m going to soak this” – he pulls out something that looks similar to an x-acto knife, except they can all see that instead of a metal blade at the head, there’s something white and sharper and longer – “in some venom.” He fiddles with the creation and rambles on. “Unfortunately, I haven’t figured out exactly how to get color to stay. Venom seems to destroy any combination of dye I use.”

 “So,” Alice interrupts. “The venom could be anyone’s… right?” She already knows the answer, but still, it’s polite to ask. Or so she’s been told.

 “Theoretically, yes,” Luke says. “When it comes to scars, which is essentially what we’re making, any venom will do.”

 “Sooo, if I wanted my tattoo to be made from, oh, I don’t know, his?” She looks at Jasper who narrows his eyes at her, already seeing where this is going. “Then we could use that?”

  Luke’s eyes flash to her. “Why? You didn’t conveniently bring some of your mate’s venom, did you?”

 Alice quickly tosses something to Luke who catches it without hesitation. Once he sees what it is he bursts out laughing. “This is fantastic,” he praises, holding up the urine sample cup.

 “Is that mine?” Jasper questions.

 “Yes.”

 “Why is it in that?”

 Alice shrugs while Luke gets to soaking the pseudo needle in the container of venom. “Carlisle had some in the house, and I needed something small to carry it in.”

 “Alright, here we go then,” Luke announces, lifting the pen like instrument.

 Then, quick as lightning. Jasper has that same hand in a death grip. Alice thinks she hears something crack. Luke hisses and Jasper growls. “You are not putting that near her.”

 Luke attempts to yank his hand away but only causes the cracking sound to become more intense. Alice winces and Luke makes a noise of pain. Still, he stands his ground. “Well, what do you propose I use to get through our skin.”

 Jasper just growls in response.

 “Jazz,” Alice says softly. Jasper doesn’t take his eyes or hand off Luke, but she can tell that she has his attention. “You’ll need to just look away at this point,” she informs him – in no situation that she could see, could he watch this and not end up tearing off Luke’s hand. When her mate opens his mouth to protest, Alice quickly adds, “You’re not leaving the room or anything. Just… look at something else.”

 Jasper glares at Luke. “Any mishaps and hand won’t be the only thing that’s cracking.” He lets go and Alice holds her hand out for him. She can almost hear Luke’s hand stitching itself back together. Gently she turns him around, he’s standing in front of her, back to her, hand loosely holding hers still.

 “You sure he can handle this?” Luke mostly says to himself.

 Alice can feel the irritation and nervousness flickering around her husband. She squeezes his hand. “He’ll be fine.”

 It’s subtle, but she’s used to picking it out after all these years; she feels a slow calm wash over the room.

 “If you say so,” Luke replies, unsure still. “Alright, try two.”

 Suddenly, the room is filled with a peculiar, high-pitched, sort of screeching sound. It’s not exactly nails on a chalkboard, but it’s definitely not pleasant to listen to either. It doesn’t take very long, and sooner than she would think, the pain is gone.

 A moment of silence passes.

 “Is it done?” Jasper asks, fidgeting in front of her. His hand had gotten progressively tighter with each second.

 “Would you like to see it?” Luke answers with.

 But Alice has already seen herself seeing it. It’s perfect. “I’ll keep it as a surprise.”  She can tell that the other vampire is confused, but he shrugs it off.

 “Suit yourself.” He looks to Jasper and then back to her. “So, I’m guessing you have some of your own venom for Jasper?” Luke guesses.

 Alice throws another urine cup – full of her venom this time – at him. “You catch on fast.”

 Luke looks back to Jasper, takes in all the scars – the ones he can see at least. “Ready if you are.”

 Alice can tell he’s still slightly frightened of her husband. Which, normal. She’s already seen this going well, though and just can’t wait to get home and spend a few hours admiring the work.

 *

 A week later, Alice has a vision.

 Soon, very soon, her husband will walk by one of their full length mirrors in their bedroom. He’ll pause and touch high on his chest, near his heart. His fingers will lightly trace over the simple yet intricate design. It’ll flash silver at him when he shifts, like the other scars on his body. Except this one, when he looks at it, he will see something he chose for himself. For the first time, in a very long time, he will see something about himself that he finds beautiful.

 end note: thanks for reading! Hope the end wasn’t too cringe. Did you figure out what the tattoos could be? i might have to start posting to my ao3 bc i don’t like all this weird tumblr formatting. Let me know your thoughts? sorry for typos again. if you’re interested, i’ve written another shorter fic about man bun!jasper

[ringfinger-leonhard]

Family Reunion

((I am not good with these types of drabbles since my own Family Reunions consist of us insulting each other for two days before parting ways for another few years.

But I hope this will suffice. @yellowfingcr I stole Heysel for this.))

"Are you alright? You look nervous?"

Heysel watched Leonhard bring his shoulders up a little, something she hadn't seen him do for a long time now. Last time was a little after he had joined the Covenant, back when he was still acclimatizing to everything. Seeing him be this nervous before meeting his own family again was worrying and endearing at the same time.

"I am. I haven't seen any of them for... decades, it feels like." Leonhard tried to smile under his mask, to give his voice a more chipper tone. The effort fell flat however. "Don't worry! We shall dazzle them with the sheer beauty of our clothes!" The Yellowfinger put an arm around her friend to pull him closer, a big smile drawn across her features. "For the trouble of getting back here! We will entertain ourselves!" "Hopefully. My family is a handful. Especially with all of my siblings present." "Ah yes... you know, Leona could have told me that you two were siblings. Would have saved her a lot of trouble. And your older brother... Vinfried?" "Vilhelm." "I heard he is a bodyguard for one of the Leaders of Londor? I hope I won't anger him." "He's always angry. Don't pay his misdemeanors any mind, it's just how he is. Beneath his dark armor and cold shoulder, a dark fire drives him forward towards his goals."

They arrived at a large door with a servant standing in front of it, an old lady with a motherly face whose features lit up when her eyes fell on Leonhard.

"Leonhard! Oh, how long it has been! Come in, come in, the Lady, your mother, was already complaining about you being fashionable late again! Who is with you?" "This is Heysel. I will introduce her inside." "Ah, a mysterious woman then? I am intrigued. Welcome to Carim Heysel, I do hope you will like it here. If anything bothers you, the Lord and Lady and myself always have an open ear."

Heysel tried to greet the woman back but she was cut off when the doors opened into a large Ballroom with a silver ceiling, dark blue floors and roughly a hundred people with mostly blueish hair or hues of grey starring into their direction, some at once lighting up with a warm smile, others squinting at her bright yellow attire and belt with the Xanthous Medals. It was very quiet.

"I announce that Leonhard and his friend Lady Heysel have arrived!"

"A woman Leonhard? What a pleasant surprise!" A very old looking man with completely grey, shoulder long hair raised a glass of wine. "Introduce us, introduce us! Don't be a stranger among our family Heysel!"

Heysel smiled and bowed as graceful as she could. Leonhard coughed before raising his voice as well. He had warned her that this would be rather uncomfortable for it was one of the few traditions his family held dear, so it was rather formal and stiff.

"This is Heysel of Farron, Daughter of their last Leader, Xanthous Scholar, Creator of at least two of Farrons Spells, the Soul Darts," a few whistles sounded through the crowd, quite a lot eyebrows were raised and clapping was heard, " and my... colleague within Rosarias Fingers, the Yellowfinger who is the first bastion against those opposing us!" Heysel felt her cheeks flush at all that. She really hadn't ever thought about all the titles and accomplishments she had already, well, stacked on her belt but being introduced like this? It filled her with pride.

"It is my pleasure to be allowed to attend this Family Reunion despite not being part of it."

"Nonsense!" A woman with light blue hair and a matching blue lipstick waved her off. "You are as much family as anyone here. Leo here never had many friends, that he brought you means more than any words." She toasted at her before focusing on stealing a small cake off of one of the other guests plates and was promptly accused of being lazy.

"Leonhard, Heysel! You are late! I told you not to be late, you are late, why didn't you listen!" The familiar voice of Leona was it that broke the spell in the hall and at once chatter and laughter echoed around the room as Leona came towards the pair, a large man in armor in tow who she dragged around by the wrist. Encouraged, Heysel hurried in her direction, followed by the Ringfinger. "Leona. We tried our best but- "Excuses! At least you are here now, Mother and Father are stuck with Aunt Amicia so we have some time for now. Heysel, meet Vilhelm." She took Heysels hand and shoved it into Vilhelms. "Vilhelm, this is Heysel. The woman I told you about."

Vilhelm was taller than Leonhard. It took Heysel a second to process it. This man was Leonhards brother. Steel grey eyes, long black and blue hair in a ponytail and scars going across his brows and jaw, a hard to read posture and features.

"Uh... pleasant to meet you."

Vilhelm scrutinized her face but then tightened his grip a little to shake her hand, finally a tick of a smirk moving his lips a little.

"Likewise. Leona told me a lot about you. Got to admit- I wasn't sure who to expect." He released her hand and turned to Leonhard, clapping his upper arm with a friendly amount of force. "And you? Have you finally come out of your shell a bit, baby brother?" "Shut up." "Seems unlikely." Vilhelm threw Heysel a small wink. "Takes a while to warm up to him, eh?" "Oh yes. We killed each other a few times." "A good bonding activity." Others around them nodded in agreement or shouted an 'Aye, aye' before downing their wine glasses.

Heysel watched the three siblings chatting amicably, Leona explaining the new forms of magic they were discovering in Vinheim with gusto, Vilhelm feigning interest but casually drinking glass after glass and Leonhard actually being interested but not drinking. A hand was placed on her shoulder, so Heysel turned around.

Golden eyes met hers. It was a woman with long dark brown hair and crowfeet, deep smile lines and a round, motherly face. She wore a simple dress in an orange shade.

"Are you feeling at home?" Her voice was soft and quiet.

"Oh yes. I'm just not used to these gatherings anymore." Heysel felt some of her nerves relax at once. The woman smelled like spring.

"Me too. I am not the most social person. Guess Leonhard got that trait from me."

It took Heysel a few moments for the words to sink in. But the second it all clicked, her eyes widened.

"You are his mother?"

The woman laughed and finally took her hand from Heysels shoulder to smooth her hair back."Unbelievable isn't it? My name is Laila and this-" She turned a little and pulled a tall man to her. "This is my husband and Leonhard father, Estienne."

Estienne was as tall as Vilhelm, effectively dwarfing his two other children and wife. A sharp face with wrinkles concentrated on his forehead, short blueish black hair with a few graying parts and stern, grey eyes. Heysel felt a little intimidated until Estienne smiled with the warmth that Laila wore all the time. His voice was a deep vibrato, it felt like it rattled her bones a little.

"Welcome Heysel. Both Leona and Leonhard are rather impressed with you. One could say, enchanted even. I am glad that you decided to accompany my son. He can be... difficult sometimes."

"He got that from you."

With a helpless shrug, Estienne finally addressed Leonhard who had stood with his back turned to them. "And you? Instead of greeting your parents properly, you just care about your brother and sister."

Leonhard whirled around with a surprised yelp but no training or reflex saved him from being pulled into an embrace by his father.

"You haven't grown at all!" "I'm an adult Father."

"Not adult enough to send a letter once in a while!" Laila shoved her husband off Leonhard and hugged him even tighter, a hug that was returned hesitantly. "I forgot Mother." "I know, I know. It's just nice to know you and Vihelm are still alive. You both are terrible at keeping contact."

Vilhelm grimaced a little, grabbed two glasses of wine, gave one to Heysel and drank his own in one go, earning him a slap from Leona. Heysel sipped her wine a bit, drank the glass and got a new one from Estienne while she warmed up the the quirky group of Carimians.

"Psst, Vilhelm?" "Huh?" The Knight was properly intoxicated at this point, only listening whenever an Aunt or Uncle made fun of Leonhard, a sport that seemed to follow the Ringfinger from Carim to Lothric. Heysel was already well respected for her stories, some of which Leonhard had groaned audibly to before starting to drink as well. "Why has everyone blue hair dye?" Vilhelm starred at her in confusion. Suddenly he threw his head back and laughed, clasping her shoulder with enough force to make her stumble. "Heysel! Didn't you know?" "Know what?" "Blue is a natural hair color here." "What." "Leonhard had that color too. Leona is the only one who doesn't have it. Must be the air or water in Vinheim." A muffled "Shut up, asshole!" came from somewhere in the crowd, followed by a "Leona! Swear bucket!". "I kind of thought Carimians were lying about that." "Maybe we are. Maybe we aren't." Vilhelm grabbed an entire bottle of a servants plate and chugged it. With a shrug, Heysel followed suit.

By the end of the night, Heysel knew more about Leonhard than before, enough to blackmail him later, lest his childhood stories be spread around Lothric as well.

[mojave-tiger]

origami

The dress in Vivian's hands smelled strongly of closet, as did everything else folded haphazardly on the bed in front of her. Years of accumulated dust stained the shoulders, turning its off-white almost yellow. It had been pretty, once, with its simple floral pattern and a ribbon at the waist, but now it seemed as though disuse had made it a musty old hand-me-down.

And like a true hand-me-down, she remembered this one. Her mother had favored it for special occasions: social events, holidays, the rare date with their father. She could picture herself - half the height she was now - tugging at the skirt when her first plea of "Mommy" went unheeded.

Either way, it wasn't something that Vivian saw herself wearing. A few flicks of the wrist and it was added to the donate pile.

"Hey, Viv?"

"Yeah?" she asked without looking.

"What's this?"

She turned then to see her sister standing with something held gingerly between two fingers, their mother's apron draped over her other arm. She squinted and saw it was a piece of paper, precisely folded, like a note, or...

A strange vertigo washed over her as recognition dawned - that feeling one gets when the past collides too suddenly with the present.

"...Viv?"

Realizing she was staring, Vivian gave her head a little shake and moved past her to the closet, saying, "It's a bird. I made it for 'er." The next outfit in line was a simple white blouse. Also dusty, also slated for donation. She removed it from the hanger and brought it over to the bed.

"Oh." Penny turned it over in her hand. The bird was obvious once she knew to look for it. The creature had a long neck, a slim face, pointy tail, and broad, tapered wings. Her eyes returned to her sister. "I didn't know you could do this." Almost but not quite an accusation, as though wondering where her paper cranes were.

Vivian glanced at her over a shoulder as she folded the blouse, explaining, "I had a book that showed me how. It's probably still around somewhere." She concentrated on the garment in her hands. Held it by the shoulders and snapped it out. Refolded. Tried not to dwell on the fact that this meant the gift was in her mother's possession the day she died.

"Did she like birds?"

"I... guess?" Vivian pursed her lips, then shook her head at the throwaway response. "I mean, I think it was just the easiest one to make. There were others."

Another little, "Oh." Then, "...Can I keep it?"

She stared at her sister, thrown by the oddness of the request. When she refused to acknowledge its sentimental value, it was hardly more than trash.

"Sure."

She thought perhaps that would be the end of it, but before she could take a step towards the closet, Penny held the little thing nearer to her chest and asked, "What did she like?"

So Vivian's feet reluctantly settled back onto the hardwood floor. She released a resigned little exhale and flexed a hand as she considered the question with a journalist's objectivity more than a daughter's fondness.

"She liked..." It wasn't as simple to answer as she may have thought. She'd been young herself, the memories not crystal clear. "...She liked cat stuff. You know that painting in the den? That was hers. And the throw pillows on the couch." They were a matching set with black and white felines stitched on the front. They weren't very comfortable and mostly just seemed in the way but, as with the clothing, their father wasn't the type to bother with removing them. It wasn't sentiment, Vivian thought, but a... selective blindness.

She was the one who finally made the call that their mother's belongings had sat around long enough. It was past time for a spring cleaning, and Penny didn't hesitate to volunteer her services. After all, she was curious, in that way any child would be for a parent they had barely known. Between her clinical interest and Vivian's determination to treat this as a chore, they made a good team.

"Oh yeah," Penny said, as though some part of her had known all along. She set the crane down on a side table and brought the apron over to the bed, lifting it wordlessly for consideration. Vivian took it and let it hang from her own hands. There were a couple stains that had never been washed out, and its yellow dye was faded from use, but the apron was sturdy and well-made, the threads closely woven to resist tearing. It seemed unlikely anyone would want it, but maybe Penny would in her time; a new generation of fingers could wipe flour and other kitchen debris down the front. She added it to the smaller keep pile.

"Did she have a cat?"

"Pen, you know there aren't cats."

"Well, there might've been."

"Not here there ain't."

"What about the dogs? Did she like them?" came her next question, relentless. Vivian hummed as she tried to recall their relationship.

"They were more Dad's, you know? But... Lady took a shine to 'er. Ranger and Rocket's mom? She'd always lay in the kitchen when Mom made breakfast and dinner and stuff. Probably just begging but... they seemed to have an understanding." A faint smile tugged at a corner of her lips. As things went, it seemed that memory remained untainted.

When the silence stretched a second too long, she glanced over to find Penny's chin tucked, her eyes vacantly staring at the bed. Softly she asked, "Did... did she like me?" She punctuated the statement with those already big, doe eyes meeting hers, shining with unmistakable earnestness. She was asking because she really didn't know. For a moment Vivian couldn't breathe for the breaking of her heart.

"Pen," she exclaimed, and immediately wrapped her up in a crushing hug, pressing her sister's face into her shoulder. "She loved you so much. So, so much..." She spoke with a fierce certainty, voice already thick with emotion. Penny had unknowingly found the chink in her armor. Her simple words recalled every night spent crying herself to sleep, every time she'd had to ask herself the same, haunting question... but there was anger and protectiveness in her hold, too. A part of her mind snarling, teeth bared, Look what you've done to her.

Tears were streaming silently down her cheeks now, and Penny soon echoed her, a high-pitched whine preceding the flood. It set alarm bells ringing in Vivian's mind and she pulled back, looking down at that tear-stained face - more like their mother's than hers.

"She loved you, okay?" she repeated, trying to sound firm over the tightness in her throat. "You were enough. She was just... really sick, okay? She- she was sick and she didn't get the help she needed, so..."

This only seemed to summon fresh tears. Penny's lip quivered, her voice a loud squeak of paranoia. "What if I'm sick, too? What if I'm sick like Mom...?"

In answer Vivian held her tight once more, resting her cheek on braided hair, and gave the floor a wry look as she considered both her own stubborn streak and Penny's sweet, resilient nature. It was clear they chose life.

"Honestly, Pen? I think it skipped a generation. But-" She pulled back enough to meet her sister's eyes. "If you were sick like that, we'd get you help, okay? We'd never let anything happen to you. You know that, right?"

Her bottom lip trembled again, but after a beat she nodded.

Vivian brought her in again, holding her until Penny's breathing steadied and her shoulders started to relax.

When the hug had run its course, Vivian let her go in stages, her hands sliding down to Penny's arms as she tried to give her a smile. "Remember the bird? I think there were cats, or flowers, or something like that, too. We could make some and bring them to her, okay?" Just hearing her spoken of in the present tense sent another stream of tears sliding down Penny's cheeks, but she nodded agreement. It would be a nice gesture. Vivian nodded back. Like the closing of a chapter she breathed, "Okay."

With that decided, she gave her sister one last reassuring squeeze and a peck on the forehead before pulling away and making for the closet. A simple black dress was the obvious next choice. Taking it by the hanger in one hand and wiping her face with the other, her eyes slid over the low cut of the chest, the satin trim and long skirt. She held it in her hands, feeling the quality of the fabric. It had an ageless look about it - the kind of fashion that never really goes out of style. This one she would keep.

[ahlis-xiv]

The Headcanon Master Post: Ahlis Ildilayan (ARR + HW)

Alright everybody! This has been put off for far too long, but that’s what happens when you wrap up the MSQ twice in two months in a mad dash before Stormblood (never again). A few things I want to mention before getting this underway though...

This post will cover many of the personal head canons I have for my main character Ahlis Ildilayan. These will all most likely be for the Warrior of Light (WoL) verse but if there are any discrepancies I’ll note ‘em. If I update this in the future I’ll probably reblog this same post but Stormblood is going to get it’s own post most likely, so I’m looking forward to drafting that in the future!

Now without further ado...let’s get to it!

The Little Things

Ahlis does not favor the cold very much and this takes form in a number of ways. She dislikes the snow and cold rainstorms as well as disapproving of cold confectionery food items like ice cream or iced drinks. What can I say, she’s prone to brain freezes lol.

She loves particular bathing rituals such as using fragrant bath salts and body oils. It’s a luxury she came to know in her years living in Ul’dah and when she can afford to indulge herself she visits the Sapphire Exchange and visits her favorite vendor in the city to browse for the latest scents to arrive.

Her favorite color is purple, the darker the better. Common dyes used in her armor are currant, grape and gloom purple. She also likes red, white, gray and gold.

Ahlis almost always wears her hair long and free with little styling beyond a good comb through every day to look presentable. At night she braids it loosely to prevent tangles which also enhance her hair’s natural wavy look.

Her headband is almost never out of sight. It belonged to her mother and was originally tied to her mother’s spear.

Ahlis knows how to play the harp, having learned it from her mother in her youth. 

Habits

Ahlis is first to turn to her books when she is bored, agitated or is in need of a distraction. She spends much of her time reading theory on arcanima and the practice of writing with the special metal dyes used to illustrate geometries.

Her hands are always doing some sort of movement, be it tapping an armrest while sitting or twirling her hair. It’s almost always while she’s thinking or preoccupied with something.

Ahlis always makes sure to smell her tea before taking her first sip. She finds it very therapeutic, especially if the brew is particularly fragrant or soothing. She adds nothing to her tea either; no sugar or milk or cream and certainly no birch syrup!, preferring it to taste it as-is.

She prefers her baths to be very hot, an experience she finally managed to indulge in fairly regularly when living in Ul’dah. Cold bathing to her is terrible.

Ahlis is still prone to episodes of hoarding personal possessions, a past behavior she developed due to her years as a refugee. Clutter is something she struggles with to this day.

Money management is another issue she has to contend with due to never having to handle it very much as a youth. She’s gotten better over the years and knows how to make a budget and how to save, so...improvement!

Character Background & History

Ahlis’s family originally hailed from the city of Ala Mhigo of Gyr Abania. She was a young child of 6 to 7 years old when both her and her mother escaped the city during the Garlean invasion twenty years ago. Her father, who remained behind, perished with many other Ala Mhigans in the aftermath.

In the years following Ala Mhigo’s fall Ahlis traveled all across Eorzea in the search of succor and safety from those who sympathized with the Ala Mhigans plight. They were not very lucky and were often on the move for weeks or months at a time; from Gridania to Coerthas they traveled with other refugees like themselves. Ahlis’s mother, who still retained her pride despite their hardships, did not beg for handouts or steal like some of the other refugees. Instead, she used her skills as a songstress & musician to stir the sensibilities and appreciation from any passerby when they stayed in towns and hamlets on their travels. This is how Ahlis learned of her nation’s history, culture and stories, as well as her skill with the harp.

Ahlis’s mother died five or so years after the fall of Ala Mhigo when they were attempting to settle in the region of Central Coerthas with other refugees. Much of the details concerning her death are conjecture: the only remnants of where her mother had gone involved a broken spear, for which she used to hunt with, and blood. Ahlis had reached out for aid from the local Ishgardian knights but they refused, deeming the task too menial and unworthy of their efforts. Needless to say this fostered a deep grudge for many years following her mother’s death.

In the interim from losing her mother to the very long journey south to Ul’dah, Ahlis had to rely on her fellow countrymen for survival as she traveled in a small caravan-of-sorts for better opportunities beyond the Coerthan highlands. It wasn’t a very pleasant time in her life, as some of the men were prone to doing whatever they saw fit to putting food in their bellies as well as departing from their group to take up banditry. The experience inevitably soured some of her opinions regarding other refugees.

Upon reaching Ul’dah Ahlis almost immediately got into trouble with some local thugs and caught the attention of the local authorities. Fortunately for her however one member of the Brass Blades, a roegadyn woman by the name of Precious Spinel, recognized her family name due to a friendship she held with her father during his youth as a traveling swordsman. This family friend was a literal godssend: by helping Ahlis get on her feet in Ul’dah it prevented her from falling into poverty that many outsiders, especially refugees, ended up in.

Ahlis became fully literate in her years staying in Ul’dah, as well as acquiring her first real employment as a guard & informant between the Brass Blades and Immortal Flames. When she wasn’t working she was practicing her writing, numbers and reading with encouragement from hired tutors, all of which was funded by Precious. She also expanded her repertoire with swordplay while working in the Brass Blades and from lessons taught by Precious. Her exposure to thaumaturgy also began here (this will be expanded upon later).

The events leading up to the Battle of Carteneau Flats and the actual battle itself are memories that Ahlis either does not remember clearly, or she doubts their veracity as to what, or how much, she truly accomplished. All that she knows for certainty is that her aether was inadvertently affecting in some manner, and that her abilities with the Echo were enhanced/manifested in its aftermath.

In the time following the Calamity and as she healed Ahlis found herself bewildered and bereft on what to do; her aether had become more unstable and volatile which made for uneasy spell casting as well as a heightened sensory perception of aether as a whole. Her memories were messy as well, the Echo adding further confusion as to what, or whose, visions she was recalling

 Roughly a year as being on the mend and faced with her own abilities, Ahlis decided to leave Ul’dah to go on a sort of sabbatical/personal journey on her own. Eventually her path took her to Limsa Lominsa, her mind and management of her aether (as well as the emotional turmoil it had dealt) in a deteriorating state. As a last ditch effort she went to the Arcanist’s Guild for aid, which they were able to help provide.

Studying and understanding arcanima, as well as learning how to discipline oneself and to effectively manage her unstable aether, allowed for Ahlis to center herself and find a new purpose as a teacher and researcher of the guild once she proved herself capable and felt comfortable enough to do so.

Personal player note: Ahlis never speaks about this to anybody, as it is a source of personal contention and confusion for her. This was also the event that triggered new abilities in the Echo to further manifest and grow in intensity. Being scouted and recruited into the Scions was risky in her eyes but worth seeking more answers concerning the Echo.

Class/Job & The Mantle of the Black

Ahlis did not receive any sort of formal schooling or tutelage until she was a young teenager of about 12 to 13 years of age. She spent her early years in Ul’dah playing a vigorous game of “catch-up” to become more literate as well as learning mathematics. Ahlis spent much of her time learning, encouraged by her friend who assisted her studies as well as by her tutors who saw in her a capability to become a scholar.

Curiosity eventually led Ahlis to the thaumaturgist guild within the Arrzaneth Ossuary in Ul’dah as their collection of various texts covered numerous topics of study, many of which she had never touched upon. Aether manipulation in combat was something Ahlis took a keen interest in and spent much of her time listening to the guildmaster Cocobuki and his brother on the subjects of battle strategy.

Player’s note: Ahlis does not consider herself a devout follower of Nald’thal or to the Order. While she may feel partial guilt due to feeling deceptive towards the Ossuary’s keepers she is also unapologetic to acquiring the knowledge and resources in doing so.

The soul crystal Ahlis has in her possession is one she ended up taking when a rogue black mage of the amal’jaa assaulted her in southern Thanalan on what was supposed to be a routine exploration of some of the ruins near the Sunken Temple of Qarn. Finding the magics they had used to be unlike any seen before, she examined the amal’jaa’s corpse and found the soul crystal. 

This soul stone is unique in that upon its surface there are inscriptions using symbols and characters which are undecipherable to Ahlis, having no understanding of the script. Over time, as she had slowly learned to read the old inscriptions, she learned each black magic spell.

Although this discovery has afforded Ahlis new, and quite powerful spells, it has also deeply affected her understanding of magic as a whole. Feeling responsible for taking the soul crystal for herself and learning of its secrets has become a burden that she knows she must protect and guard lest she allow it to fall into dangerous hands.

Personal player note: I do not foresee myself RPing as a black mage in game, however on Tumblr or in other places such as Discord it’s certainly possible depending on the plot. For all other intents and purposes Ahlis is an arcanist and researcher of Limsa Lominsa where her focus of study is aether manipulation in defensive and offensive battle tactics. 

Another personal player note: red mage is certainly a strong possibility in the future for Ahlis but that will be added under the Stormblood head canons in the future!

Places

Gridania: Ahlis loves the Black Shroud and finds its beauty to be very soothing despite the hardship she found as a refugee. Finding aid from the peoples in the Shroud and from Gridania was nonexistent as the forest was the first stopping point in her journey from Ala Mhigo with her mother, so they did not remain there very long. Years later however, if Ahlis has an opportunity to see the Shroud, she accepts it.

Ul’dah: Ul’dah was her home for the better part of a decade and was the city where she began to come into her own. Ahlis was finally able to become more educated and her knack for learning blossomed under the various tutelage the city had to offer, namely from the thaurmaturgist’s guild. Her tenure with the Brass Blades however exposed her to the everyday struggle and disenfranchisement of the poor, many of whom her fellow refugees. 

Limsa Lominsa: Ahlis fell in love with this city almost from the get-go. Being near the sea again enlivened her spirits greatly, and the atmosphere and bustling energy of the people certainly played a part as well. While not entirely a fan of piracy and the typical ne’er-do-wells that frequent everywhere from the piers to the Drowning Wench, Ahlis finds something infectious about Limsa. Maybe it’s all the fresh air and delicious fish soup she can eat...

Mor Dhona & the Rising Stones: Ahlis does not care very much for the area of Mor Dhona, considering how contorted it had become due to the Calamity (although she is sure the region has very interesting aether readings and fluctuation, as well as being a great area to practice channelling aether for spellwork), but Revenant’s Toll is a good place to call home away from practically everything else. For the short time she was there prior to fleeing towards Ishgard Ahlis took up a room at the Rising Stones and oftentimes retreated there when she could to sleep or to read.

Sharlayan: The curiosity Ahlis holds for this place is unending. She strongly wishes she had been able to see such a city before it fell into ruin and disrepair, and certainly before the goblins took over! She hopes, once all her other adventures and obligations are finally finished, she can go back to the great library within and do some sleuthing of her own.

The Coerthas Highlands & Ishgard: a frozen, hellish wasteland in her eyes. Very bleak and uninviting; the only glimmer of anything worthwhile are the allies she has there and that’s about it (e.g. Camp Dragonhead). Ahlis did see the highlands before the ice and snow covered everything all year round and found the climate much more agreeable then...the locals however, not too much. As for the city itself she finds the aesthetic of cold stone and towering holy edifices to their faith unappealing and self-serving. There is a small recognition on her part on the sheer architectural magnitude of the city that is impressive, though.

The Scions of the Seventh Dawn

Ahlis was recruited in Limsa Lominsa by Y’shtola for the Scions’ cause. It was also around this time that her connection with her abilities with the Echo intensified, making itself known for the first time in her life. It was an unpleasant, but fascinating, time for her.

Minfilia: Ahlis found herself impressed with Minfilia almost from the get-go with her ambition for the Scions and their mission. Although there wasn’t enough time for Ahlis to develop a deep enough friendship with the woman their connection via the Echo was there to foster a level of camaraderie and as kindred spirits. What she misses most of her is her levelheadedness and confidence.

Thancred: Thancred did not impress Ahlis whatsoever once she learned of his ‘ways’ with women. To her he was certainly playing with too much fire and no amount of poetry would sway her otherwise. It wasn’t until after the events in Ul’dah when he went missing and after they crossed paths again did Ahlis reconsider her feelings and she now finds him a reliable ally. 

Y’shtola: The amount of knowledge Y’shtola possesses on conjury, as well as with other topics such as the primals and aetheric behavior, makes Ahlis nigh enviable of her. Upon learning of her old mentor Master Matoya it only got even worse. Ahlis wishes greatly she had such opportunities as Y’shtola did when it came to exploring magic and aether manipulation, but it doesn’t get in the way of their working relationship, In fact, Ahlis has considered approaching her for instructions or, at the very least, assistance with such research.

Yda & Papalymo: A dynamic duo if there ever was one, Ahlis was never truly close to either of them, and it wasn’t until Yda’s great reveal after the former’s death that she took a stronger interest in her. Their relationship is sure to deepen once the liberation of Ala Mhigo and Gyr Abania begins in full force.

Urianger: An aloof and strange man, Ahlis never approached Urianger much and left him to his work. He’s a great resource of information and reliable in his assistance...however after the incident with the Warriors of Darkness she is certain she won’t develop anything deeper than a working correspondence. 

Tataru: A very helpful lalafell! Ahlis appreciates all the administrative work Tataru goes through for the sake of the Scions. Her strength of heart during their time in Ishgard left a strong impression on Ahlis as well, further cementing her positive opinion for her. Her taste in fashion sense leaves a lot to be desired though, as Ahlis cannot bring herself to wear the outfit she crafted by hand despite the detail and effort that went into it. Alas!

Alphinaud: Ah, everyone’s punk little brother. Ahlis would be lying if she didn’t find the boy insufferable early on, but in that annoying little sibling sort of way...which inevitably led to her feelings of endearment (Ahlis never had any siblings of course). Alphinaud was a staunch comrade during their time in Ishgard and, like Tataru, deepened her respect for him and his ability to persevere. His growing maturity is something Ahlis is proud of.

Alisaie: Ahlis wishes she had gotten to know Alphinaud’s sister much earlier! She has a fighting spirit and a no-nonsense attitude, things that Ahlis can certainly appreciate. If Alisaie was a bit older the two of them would probably be great friends. Ahlis looks forward to future endeavors with her.

NPCs

Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn: Ahlis admires the Merlwyb despite her notorious history as a pirate. Her demeanor and staunch position on how to lead the nation of Limsa Lominsa has left quite the impression on Ahlis...however after the events at the banquet in Ul’dah she was unable to stop feelings of bitterness as she watched the Admiral walk away with the other Alliance leader Kan-E-Senna without any offered support.

General Raubahn Aldynn: A fellow Ala Mhigan, Ahlis relates to the Flame General in a number of ways. Like him she managed to make a life for herself that didn’t involve the fall of Ala Mhigo hanging over her head...or so she likes to believe. She also spent years working with the Brass Blades and knew a number of others in the grand company as well; she understands life in Ul’dah is not easy whatsoever and she does not find his position as general enviable.

Elder Seedseer Kan-E-Senna: A respected Alliance leader, Ahlis knows little of the Padjal leader of Gridania aside from observing first-hand her gentle eloquence and wisdom. The same bitterness following the banquet was felt towards the Elder Seedseer but to a much lesser extent compared to that of the Admiral.

Ilberd Feare: Ahlis’s disgust towards this man knows no bounds. He is, and was, an affront to all Ala Mhigans everywhere and his actions are righteously despised. Ahlis still feels a bit of a fool for falling for his ruse in with the entire debacle with the Crystal Braves (although perhaps not as much as Alphinaud surely did).

Haurchefant Greystone: An unexpected friend and ally. Ahlis did not think she would find any companions during her ventures back into central Coerthas but Haurchefant was a welcomed exception. He (almost!) single-handedly encouraged Ahlis to reconsider her past discretions against Ishgardians and Coerthas, so positive was his influence upon her. When he was killed by Ser Zephirin during their mission into the Vault to stop the archbishop Ahlis swore vengeance and would not stop until his murderer was brought to justice.

Personal player note: it’s a damn crime we didn’t get a faceoff with Ser Zephirin in 3.0. It’s all I wanted!

Count Edmont, Ser Artoirel & Emmanellain: House Fortemps is an interesting household to say the least. She still feels slightly indebted to them for their willingness to have herself as well as Alphinaud and Tataru as wards, however their days in Ishgard have fostered a sense of kindred between them...something that was just as unexpected and surprising as her friendship with Haurchefant.

Estinien Wyrmblood: Ahlis would be lying to herself if she didn’t feel some level of intimidation upon seeing the Azure Dragoon for the first time. And while she did not expect to have him come along during her journey with Alphinaud to speak with the heretics in hopes of delaying the assault on Ishgard, she certainly didn’t expect to end up admiring the warrior despite his cold and sometimes callous behavior.

Personal player note: Ruthlessness is a helluva drug!

Ysayle/Lady Iceheart: Every since they saw each other face-to-face, Ahlis knew ‘Lady Iceheart’ was not like any other foe she had faced before. To battle against another person with the Echo somehow felt wrong; she also has her to thank in planting the seeds in seeing many truths concerning the Dragonsong War. Ahlis knows their time together was very short, but she finds herself thinking about Ysayle from time to time, wondering if more could have been done before her untimely demise.

Personal player note: Ysayle deserved better.

Aymeric de Borel: The first impressions Ahlis felt upon meeting Ser Aymeric were not favorable. At the time the sour bitterness from the events in Ul’dah--losing the majority of the Scions, discarded by the Eorzean Alliance leaders, and fleeing death on top of it all--were still quite sharp and Aymeric was just another authority figure of a city-state she cared nothing for. Ahlis followed suit with Alphinaud in all their diplomatic proceedings, trusting in him to do what was best politically for the Scions in their time in Ishgard despite her internal reluctance. There was no real desire to become anything more than acquaintances with the lord commander during the Scions’ stay in Ishgard, although she ultimately came to respect him as both a leader and as a warrior during the events following the fall of the archbishop & the Heavens’ Ward knights. 

Personal player note: I could literally write a whole post about how I feel and how Ahlis feels about Ser Aymeric because I love the character a ton. But for the sake of brevity I’m keeping it as short as I can here. TL;DR if there ever was a slow burn for a friendship this is it.

Whew! I think that is everything, or close to it for the time being for head canons that include Heavensward. Thanks for reading and hopefully that gives a little more insight for my WoL character Ahlis!

Time for STORMBLOOD!

[overthinkingfeathers]

Below the cut is an 18 year long question/answer thing about my second Ryder, who is fast becoming my favorite Ryder. It’s largely a reference for myself, because I tend to get scattered. There’s no point otherwise. 

ETA: I am the absolute worst and forgot to give credit. The questionnaire is great and from here.

The basics! What's their full name, gender, and sexuality? Describe their general appearance and/or include a picture. Is there anything you canon beyond what the game allows?

Iona Amelia Ryder is a bisexual lady because I am a bisexual lady and that’s all I usually will play. Have a picture, because God knows the rest of this is just lots of words. 

Can’t always wear Initiative whites and blues, What's their dress style like? Do they prefer casual wear, or being in armor? Is it the same as it was in the Milky Way? How, if applicable, has it changed since arriving in Helius?

Iona’s not much for the Initiative provided casual wear. It’s comfortable though, which is nice, and it’s not like she has much to choose from. She promptly dyes it black to match the jacket she brought from the Milky Way. They turn out to be more of a dark grey, but it’s the spirit that counts. Eventually, Suvi gives her a similarly colored scarf for her birthday. Iona never asks where she got it or how she found out it was her birthday - she suspects the answer to both of those questions is Vetra - but she wears it from that moment on. 

In the Milky Way, she definitely had a lot of clothes in a variety of styles. Iona enjoys dressing up differently depending on her mood, and despite her current black (grey) uniform, she had a lot of bright colors in rotation before. Clothing’s not a priority in Andromeda though, and the weight limits prevented her from bringing much. She adjusts. 

She prefers her casual clothing. Armor is great at what it does - namely saving her ass - but it’s bulky and takes forever to put on/take off. She’d rather be comfortable and able to easily move in her day to day life. 

Do they have piercings, tattoos, or notable scars? Do they dye their hair, or is it a gene mod?

All of the above, though the piercings are decidedly on the tame side - three holes in each ear, and she rarely actually wears earrings. She likes the idea of earrings but finds the actual thing to be mildly inconvenient. 

As for scars and tattoos, Iona has a honeycomb like scar across her left cheek, the result of poking one too many newly discovered Prothean artifacts without proper safety precautions. Later, when the scientific team decided to get matching tattoos, she placed hers on the right side of her face so there’d be something interesting no matter where you looked. She’s not one to shy away from attention and figured it’d be better to invite people to stare than catch them quickly glancing at her. 

She dyes her hair an obnoxiously bright purple, mostly because she likes the color but also partially because it annoys her father. She never quite outgrew the teenage rebel stage. 

Outside of things I could represent in game, she’s got a full sleeve tattoo on her right arm that’s honestly mostly random - birds, flowers, pretty profiles, space stuff, anything she thought was beautiful all mashed up onto one arm. It’s bright and colorful and somehow works. On her left arm, she has a half sleeve that’s just random quotes and words from a variety of sources. They run together constantly and they’re in the same font, so it’s hard to tell where one stops and another starts unless there’s a pretty big age difference between the two. Sometimes there is, sometimes there isn’t. Iona doesn’t really care if it confuses other people; it’s for her alone. She also has a (colorful) peacock tattoo on her left thigh and a small (black) brain outline on her right ankle. 

(The arms are just things she likes or things that speak to her. She doesn’t have an explanation for all of them. The peacock is a brag, of sorts; someone once told her she was as arrogant and vain as one, and she just kind of took that as a compliment. That’s not how it was intended. She knows that. The brain is for her mother; she was going to get a heart, but it felt too cheesy, and Ellen worked on brain implants, so...) 

Honestly, her tattoo artist was a God send and a saint, and since they didn’t come along to Helius, any new tattoos are probably not going to work quite so well. 

What’s their personality like? How do they feel about being Pathfinder? How do they change, if at all, over the course of the story?

Iona is empathetic, sarcastic, and impulsive. It ends up being an internal war most of the time; does her compassionate side win out or her need to make a joke out of everything? Normally, it’s the latter. She cares, but diplomacy isn’t her strong suit. 

She’s open with her affections and considers casual touching and sex to be totally normal and fine. Which isn’t to say she doesn’t understand boundaries - she does, and she respects them. She doesn’t want to make people uncomfortable. She’s an endless flirt. 

She’s testy under pressure and can say some harsh things she doesn’t always mean. She’s especially prone to rash decisions then, though she’s not really ever a good planner. She tends to do things on the fly and hope they’ll work out for the best. That they usually do is more of a testament to her team’s skill than anything else. 

Over time, she matures a bit. She’s still more likely to make a bad joke than not, but she starts to handle pressure better. Plans are formed in advance and stuck to. They’re still largely formed by other people, but Iona’s seen how having a good advance plan can help and begins to trust in certain people to make them. 

She never loses her physical self confidence. It’s in her bones. 

What’s their preferred profile, or class? Were they naturally inclined towards combat or technical skills? Were they a developed biotic, or did they first experience it with SAM?

Iona has always been a techie. She was taking apart and rebuilding things as soon as she mastered fine motor control, and Ellen encouraged that skill. As the child of scientists and inventors, it was pretty natural that she’d pick up some of that passion. 

As a child, Iona was jealous of biotics, both because so much of her mother’s work was devoted towards them (which meant they must be interesting) and because, well, moving things with your mind seemed cool. Ellen had enough element zero exposure to potentially make the twins viable biotics, and Iona used to lie in bed at night and try to make something happen. Neither of them ever showed any talent for it though. Later, when her mother’s illness was tied back to her biotic research, any desire Iona ever had about being biotic flamed out. She viewed it as more of a curse than anything else for the last few years. 

Experiencing it with SAM for the first time was... a trip. She didn’t even try for a few months after becoming Pathfinder, and when she finally did, she did it alone, in her quarters, with SAM’s recording features all turned off so she could react as she needed to without alerting anyone. It’s something she practices in case she ever absolutely needs it to save someone, but she won’t use it otherwise. 

Canon says they served in the Alliance before joining the Initiative, do you keep this canon, or have you made some changes? Explain their backstory either way.  

Iona and Scott join the Alliance at 18, because, well, it’s expected of them. They expect to be kept together - they’ve been together their whole lives - but they test separately, and the Alliance decides that Iona, tech savvy and curious, is better off helping scientific teams in the Attican Traverse and Scott is not. It’s a system shock, and she probably gets a little wilder than she should for the first year. Fortunately for her, the Traverse is more lax with regulations than most of the Alliance space, and as long as she does her job well, her superiors don’t really care. 

She’s there just to guard the scientists initially, but she’s bad at staying in her lane. She hangs out with them whenever she has a free moment, offering suggestions and ideas. When she manages to activate a Prothean artifact no one else yet had (and gets that burn across her face), they decide to officially make her part of the science team. She’s pretty hyped. 

She’s 20 and the ink on her face is barely dry when the news about her mother’s condition comes in. She wants to go home, to care for her mother like no one else can, but Ellen convinces her to stay there. The others on the team become her support, and she leans on them heavily. 

That they turn their backs on her once Alec’s AI work is revealed in gut wrenching. She’s tries to convince them that she didn’t know, but the Geth are an ever present threat in the Traverse, and the Citadel just took heavy losses from their attack. They’re not swayed. She’s too disheartened to protest when the Alliance discharges her and sends her back home. 

She doesn’t feel like there’s a choice when Andromeda comes up. Her father’s shadow will constantly loom over her, even once he leaves. Besides, Scott has been bored for the past few years and eagerly accepts the plan. She’d have no family and no future in the Milky Way. 

Everyone’s got one… List their (or your) favorite powers, weapons, and armor sets. Any special reason for these choices?

Iona’s not too partial to any particular armor set or weapon, though she does prefer to use a sniper rifle so she can hang back from the fray. If something has to get up close and personal, she’d prefer it be her Remnant VI (not as trustworthy as her hand built assault drone but much cooler and therefore preferred) or the incinerates she tosses. Her combat cloak is a must have so she can get out of sticky situations easily. Her goal is to survive, not look awesome on the stretcher. 

It’s all in the family. Explain their relationship with Alec, Ellen, and their sibling. If you changed anyone’s names or added a different sibling in your canon, explain why.

No extra sibling or name changes, because I am lazy. 

Iona’s relationship with her father is complicated. He’s distant and often a bit harsh, and she’s not that way at all. She always thought he regretted having children, that it was something he did because he thought he had to. He worked long hours and was always away, and Iona resented him for that. Later, when she was basically blacklisted in the Alliance because he was breaking AI laws, she resented him for ruining her future. She doesn’t get the full picture until later, and by then it’s too late to change anything. 

On the opposite end, Iona absolutely adored her mother. Ellen encouraged her love of science and tech from a very young age, and she was smart and funny and realistic. Her disease devastated the whole family. 

Honestly, until the Alliance separates them, Iona kind of views Scott as an extension of herself. It’s not a conscious thing, but once they start not being around each other at all, she’s genuinely surprised several times that he doesn’t just know about things she’s done and seen. She’s equally surprised when she finds out things he’s done well after the fact, like she should just know everything through osmosis or something. The Andromeda Imitative bringing them back together was supposed to be the one good thing about it. 

What’s their favorite memory they have of their sibling? Of their parents?

Iona’s favorite memory of her father is from early, early childhood. She’s not sure how old she was at the time - maybe 4 or so - but her father would take her to his workshop and teach her how to use all the tools there. It was like a dream space for her; at home, though her love of tech was encouraged, she was mostly forbidden from doing things like taking apart the lights. She also mostly ignored those boundaries and thus didn’t have constant access to all the tools she’d need. In the workshop, she was allowed to do whatever, as long as her father was there to guide her. It happened rarely though, since he was frequently away on Alliance business. 

By contrast, she has a ton of good memories of her mother, and it’d be hard to pick just one. She values the time they spent working on gadgets together; she values the time they spent as a family. If she had to pick a defining one though, it would be shortly after her first breakup as a teenager; she was sobbing in her room, like you do, and Ellen sat with her, gave her advice, and then took her shopping. Then they baked cookies together. Iona had definitely thought she wasn’t capable of being happy again (at least for a long while), but her mother did everything she could to cheer her up, and it worked. Overall, she was just super supportive. 

As for Scott, he actually gave her that jacket she wears around everywhere as a Christmas gift at the age of 13. As children, they were similar - not identical, obviously, as they had different interests, but personality wise, they had a lot in common. As they began growing up, Iona began branching out into more alternative paths, and Scott... didn’t. At least, not the same ones she did. She was concerned they’d grow apart and that he wouldn’t accept her. She was the one doing more of the changing, afterall, so the reaction was his choice (as far as she viewed it). Her father definitely didn’t seem to like the new her. And instead of disapproving of her, he got her that jacket - the old fashioned, decidedly out of style and hard to find leather jacket she had been coveting for months. She hadn’t expected it. It felt like acceptance, and it meant the world to her. She’s kept it ever since, repairing it and modifying it as needed so that it fits her as well at 22 as it did at 13. 

How have they dealt with the aftermath of Habitat 7? How deeply does this affect them?

Everything goes wrong on Habitat 7. Granted, things were going wrong even before then, but that’s the tipping point of especially bad. But Iona rolls with it. The fact that she wasn’t especially close to her father actually works to her advantage to once, because she’s able to view the loss more as a loss of a commanding officer than the loss of a father. She cared far more for her mother, and Iona’s already done that mourning. Practically, it changed everything; emotionally, it didn’t. She’s more concerned over her sudden new responsibilities and the fact that there’s some kind of space abnormality that fucks up ships. That she dreams of suffocating and wakes up in a cold sweat most nights seems expected. 

Later, when Prodromos is established and stable and the initial panic that everyone will starve has worn off, she feels guilty for her lack of emotional response over her father’s death. She also acknowledges that the trauma of almost dying (and actually dying for a short time) is a medical problem that needs attention. 

As they unlock the memories, how does this change, if at all, their view of their parents?

The memories don’t change her view of her mother at all. Iona always knew Ellen cared deeply for her family and was more concerned with living a full life than limping away from death as long as possible. She didn’t know SAM was originally invented to save her mother, but the fact that Ellen was willing to entertain the idea made sense to her. She liked science and advancement, and she was willing to take risks for it. Add in a terminal disease and her love of her husband, and well, it was probably an easy choice. 

She does learn to become more forgiving of her father though. Before the memories, she assumed his constant immersion in his new project was just his way of avoiding Ellen’s disease, not his attempt at saving her. She always assumed he didn’t care, because he was more distant and less prone to showing his emotions, but he did care, deeply. It just wasn’t in a way she understood. 

Explain the way they feel about their squadmates, both initially and over the course of the story.

This is gonna get long. 

Cora:  -Initially: First impressions are that she’s smart and they’re probably not going to get along. People her father thinks are fit for command - and Cora is his second, so she must fit the mold - tend to be far more by the rules and serious than Iona can tolerate. Plus, they tend to judge her too, so she just preemptively dismisses them.  -After some time: Cora’s obsession with biotics and asari kind of weirds Iona out, but they both seem to grow out of that a little over time. They definitely chafe at first, but Cora is a good second in command. She’s good at dealing with the leadership (which Iona isn’t), she’s good at offering advice (which Iona ignores), and she’s good at putting together plans (which Iona only does on the fly). Her input is valuable, and though it takes Iona a little while longer to see that than it probably should, she does end up appreciating her presence on the team. In turn, Cora relaxes a bit and shows a more personal side. They’ll probably never see eye to eye on a lot of things, but they do become friends. 

Liam:  -Initially: Actual human puppy - sweet, eager to please, and wears his heart on his sleeve.  -After some time: That first impression never really wears off, but she learns there’s more depth to him than that. Of all the people Iona meets, he’s the one who cares the most. Not just better make sure we do well so we don’t die care but everyone deserves a good life and good home care. So many people forgot those early dreams (or never had them), but Liam not only remembers, he still believes and works for it. And if he, former cop and still general good doer, has to work around the system to make it happen, he will. Not for personal gain - Iona never witnesses him do something shady solely for his own benefit - but for all the people in general. He feels like he’s there for the right reasons, and Iona trusts him because of it. 

Vetra:  -Initially: Walking up that spaceship ramp the first time, Iona feels small next to Vetra. She offers a nice, peaceful thing to the dock attendant - getting his son out of cryo - but Iona is kind of intimidated. Also, she’s pretty.  -After some time: Vetra feels like the team’s mother to Iona. Not in a judgemental way but a caring, protective manner. She can’t be that much older than Iona, but something about her just seems like she’s so much more mature than everyone else on the Tempest, presumably because she basically raised her little sister. She’s also resourceful as fuck. Iona looks up to her and wants to basically be her when she’s older. 

Drack:  -Initially: Heart eyes, motherfucker, up until he basically says she’s not good at this right after she took down a million kett to get there.  -After some time: Giant combat veteran gives good advice and thinly disguised care in one fell swoop. Iona’s a bit jealous of Kesh. More than a bit, really. He’s distrustful of SAM in a way that Iona definitely isn’t, but he only brings it up occasionally and seems more than happy to let her do what she wants with her body and brain. 

Peebee:  -Initially: A random asari tackling her on a planet where everyone is either dead or hostile is really not what Iona expects. There are mixed feelings there.  -After some time: Iona’s relationship with Peebee is kind of a rollercoaster. They’re best buds at first - both are quick thinking, impulsive scientists who don’t act anything like society expects and kind of revel in that. And both are young (relatively) and attractive and flirty, so hey, why not add the occasional bout of casual sex to the mix? 

It starts getting awkward mid-Kadara. Peebee definitely said no strings attached, and Iona thought she was also pretty clear that this was a friends with benefits situation, but Peebee seems to be getting attached. She talks about liking Jaal but refuses Iona’s encouragement about it, saying she doesn’t dance with multiple partners at once. Meanwhile, Iona hasn’t had the ‘are we exclusive’ talk with Reyes yet, but everyone knows they’re a thing. Rather than dealing with it like she should, Iona just kind of stops all flirting and sex with Peebee and hopes that gets the message across. It doesn’t. 

So it gets awkward for a while after Peebee confesses her feelings later and Ryder turns her down. They’re both adults, they can both handle it just fine, but sometimes the best way to deal with an unrequited crush is to spend time apart. Finally, after two weeks of awkward conversations that everyone picks up on, Iona arranges for a trip to Eos. She spends a week working on things the colony needs and lets everyone else do what they want for the time. Peebee disappears into various Remnant ruins for pretty much the whole week. 

That time seems to be all they need. Once Peebee gets back, she’s back to her usual bright self and drags Iona over to see new tech she’s found. They examine and talk about it for an hour before Iona realizes how normal they’re both being, and after that, it’s fine. They go back to working on projects together and excitedly bouncing ideas off of each other over meals, and if there’s ever a brief moment of tension, neither of them acknowledges it. 

Jaal:  -Initially: Alien???  -After some time: To be honest, they don’t get along well at all for a while. Jaal is closed off when he first boards the Tempest, which is fine for Iona. She can understand that. But then, almost immediately after she helps on Voeld and gets him to open up a little bit, she blows up the exaltation center, and Jaal is Not Ok with that. Which is understandable! That’s a lot of his people she just killed. But he’s very open with how upset he is for a long time, to the point of refusing to talk to her (beyond telling her he won’t talk to her), and that gets kind of old kind of fast. Then they get to Kadara and he starts talking again, only to endlessly complain about how much he hates it there and make snippy comments about Reyes, and she finds herself missing the silent treatment. 

That being said, she can see that he gets along well with the rest of the crew, so he’s clearly not that bad, and their opinions matter to her. After they go to Havarl, they start getting along better; Jaal takes her helping the scientists as kind of a personal favor (it’s not, but since the Moshae already let her into Aya’s vault, there was no pressing need to do it), and Iona begins to understand why Jaal complained endlessly about Kadara, because good Lord, she hates Havarl. They agree to a cease fire over bitching about those planets. It lasts about a week. 

Explain the way they feel about the rest of the Tempest crew?

Kallo: He’s brilliant and talented and has probably saved everyone on the ship a dozen times over with superior flying. He’s also fun to have a conversation with, but he’s a bit sensitive. The fight with Gil that Iona ends up mediating is the worst, because she understands his position (every new upgrade to a biotic implant her mother made feels like an insult to her memory), but ultimately he’s wrong, and there’s no easy way to convince him of that. 

Suvi: Genuine ray of sunshine. Iona definitely reads that paper (after forcing SAM to update the system to allow all of Suvi’s attachments through) just to make her happy. She wants to have sleepovers where they paint each other’s nails and talk about science. 

Lexi: She’s a good doctor but definitely needs her own therapist. Lines get blurred on a ship, and Iona understands that, but Lexi gives far too much weight to other people’s opinions and lets that get the better of her. Doctors are people too, but it’s concerning when your doctor is moping and drinking so miserably at a bar that you get emails about it. 

Gil: Snarky poker friend is a good friend but needs to learn to tone it down around sensitive people. Just because Kallo is in the wrong about changing the ship doesn’t mean Gil needs to be a dick about it. Iona appreciates that he’s willing to joke around with her and play games; that’s not to say they don’t have serious conversations (they do), but he’s usually capable of providing a fun time even in less than ideal circumstances, and sometimes Iona needs that. 

How about Nexus leadership and the people on the Nexus in general?

If there was a fire everybody but Kesh option, Iona would have taken it ASAP. Kandros is probably fine too, but in her estimation, he doesn’t actually seem to do much. He’s in charge of the militia but never attends important meetings, so she doesn’t really consider him leadership. 

Tann and Addison are both going to destroy all her hard work though, just out of sheer incompetence and unlikability. How anyone thought either of them would be suitable for potential first contact scenarios is beyond her. She doesn’t blame people for rebelling. 

The general populace of the Nexus are mostly out of her view. Those she does interact with seem stressed and unsure of their choices, but that’s understandable. Everything went to shit real quick. 

What were their reactions to the Angara and the Exiles? How did learning there was a whole new species in Helius affect them? How did news of the rebellion affect them?

Iona’s not surprised at all to learn that there’s a native species in Andromeda. Despite some of the leadership’s protests otherwise, they always knew it was a possibility. Given how many distinct lifeforms were in the Milky Way alone (not even counting animals and plants), Iona would have been far more surprised if there was no one at all. By the time she was born, humans had gone through the Charon relay and found the other Milky Way species; she’s never lived with the assumption that they’re alone. 

She’s super interested in their bioelectricity and potential reincarnation. She’s far less interested in being the diplomatic contact for the first few interactions, but she doesn’t really get a choice in that. Having a native species already in Andromeda - especially one at war with another non-native species - complicates matters greatly. Iona very much wants to be delicate and respect their boundaries and claims. 

As for the exiles and the rebellion - well, there’s a decent chance that Iona would have supported the rebellion, given what she learns of it. Leadership is a mess, and the exiles weren’t entirely wrong; they were able to survive outside of the Nexus. They’re arguably surviving better than the Nexus, at least until the Hyperion comes along. The people themselves are a mixed bag; the ones beating others in the streets of Kadara Port, for instance, are scum as far as Iona is concerned. On the other hand, you have the doctor running the clinic who didn’t participate in the rebellion and is solely there to do good. And then there’s the middle ground of didn’t participate in the uprising but definitely aren’t trying to be crime free. It’s a mess, and Iona can’t even tell where most people fall.  

The news of the rebellion comes too late to have much effect on Iona; in the course of essentially a day, she’s woken up from 600 years of cryo, her twin lapsed into a coma, seen their golden world a mess, shot at a brand new species, lost her father, become the Pathfinder, and discovered the Nexus in a completely fucked state. ‘There was a rebellion’ barely even registers. 

What about their interactions with the Kett?

Honestly, they’re probably a little lucky that the kett were immediately hostile, because Iona’s nerves were fucking frayed when they first encountered them. The ark being damaged, her shuttle breaking apart, everyone else missing, falling almost to her death on the ruined world that was supposed to be home - if she had to make a good first impression, she probably couldn’t have done it. She could have been non-threatening, sure, but poise was not on her list of possibilities at the time. 

But the kett were threatening her teammates, and she didn’t need to be poised. After that first encounter, she’s pretty much all hostility all the time towards them; the attempt at a deal the Cardinal makes goes absolutely no where. 

Did Ryder fall in love? If so, with whom? What drew them to that person? Would their sibling approve?

She did, and that was a surprise. Iona is no stranger to casual relationships, both in terms of affection and sex, but she wasn’t really expecting anything more than that for a long time. Eventually, sure, yeah, but Pathfinder-ing didn’t seem like it was going to leave her much time. 

Then she meets Reyes, and she flirts, because he’s attractive and she’s a perpetual flirt, and he flirts back. And she could just call him for information, but she keeps going back and flirting instead, and somehow that all leads up to her standing in an abandoned warehouse insisting that he’s a good man, because she got Feelings at some point, to someone she's pretty sure they’re going to end up killing anyway. It’s not the ideal moment to realize she cares. 

He sees her as a person and not just a Pathfinder. He’s not immediately impressed with her or angry at her or anything. Sure, they work together on a number of Pathfinder related things, but he’s never telling her she has to make the decisions or expecting her to come up with the plan. Quite the opposite, in fact; he normally has information and ideas ready to go. He’s the first person in Helius who feels like a partner. It’s refreshing. 

Also, he breaks into the port leader’s storage room for a bottle of whiskey so they can sit on some crates, drink, and talk genuinely about past hopes. It’s basically her dream date. 

Scott absolutely does not approve. He’s not surprised in the least that his sister managed to date the Charlatan, mysterious gang leader and notorious criminal, but Jesus, really? Really? 

(Iona, for her part, is not super excited that Reyes lied to her about the whole Charlatan thing initially, but she understands why he did it and ultimately kind of approves of the whole thing. He didn’t immediately owe her an explanation, presumably didn’t know Sloane was going to bring her to the duel, and handled the whole Outcast v Collective situation with more grace than she probably would have. If anything, being the leader of the Collective means 1.) he kind of accomplished his goal after leaving the Nexus (of doing better than the leadership there) and 2.) has shit to do other than wait on her. He still feels like a partner, and that’s important to her.) 

What does Ryder do in their spare time? What are their hobbies and interests? Do they share these with their friends, or are they more private?

As expected, Iona enjoys tinkering with all sorts of things, taking them apart and trying to put them back together but in a better way. That’s a more open hobby; anyone who wants to help or suggest projects is welcome to. She’s absolutely right there with Liam, Jaal, and Gil when they work on that shuttle. 

Privately, she likes to draw, usually defaulting to things that have been on her mind for a while - so Remnant things, Prothean artifacts, people she has a lot of contact with. She’ll occasionally show someone a drawing she’s particularly proud of, but that’s rare and there’s only a few people she’ll do that with (Scott is the primary one, though she eventually shows some to Reyes and Suvi. Suvi exclusively sees drawings of more scientific things). Most people don’t even know she does it. 

For all she jokes about drinking constantly, she really doesn’t. The hangovers usually aren’t worth it. Most people assume she’s serious about it though until they’ve been with her long enough to realize that no, she normally stops before getting drunk. 

How do they feel being in command of the Tempest? What's their favorite part of the ship? Least favorite?

She loves and is intimidated by it at the same time. The Hyperion had Captain Dunn, who would protest a plan if she thought it was a bad idea. Iona’s not really sure Kallo would do the same unless her plan involved literally ruining the ship. On one hand, that’s really nice; she barely feels in charge anyway, so she appreciates that someone isn’t questioning her every move. On the other hand, that’s a lot of responsibility. She likes the limited amount of freedom it gives her - she gets to pick the destinations and times - but hates that it feeds data back to the Nexus. If she could get a small, private shuttle for personal use (and Pathfinder stuff she didn’t want the Nexus to track), she’d be thrilled. 

Space wise, she appreciates that the engineering section is so big. She enjoys spending time there and so do a bunch of the others. It becomes the unofficial gathering spot for most of the crew. 

She’s not fond of the crew quarters. She likes her own space, but it just emphasizes how she’s not actually on the same level as everyone else. She and Scott were both supposed to have a bed there - he conceded top bunk to her when she was still waffling about joining - and instead neither of them do. 

How about driving the Nomad? Are they a good or terrible driver?

God, she’s terrible. It’s not that she’s incapable of driving well - she learned how to drive a long time ago - she just doesn’t feel the need to. The Nomad is a highly advanced vehicle with good traction and shields. Iona feels no qualms whatsoever about speeding past enraged enemies or attempting to bully her way up mountains. This tends to horrify her passengers, who can look out the window and see the treads desperately seeking traction hundreds of feet in the air or bullets pinging off their rapidly fraying shield. 

How do they feel about their connection with SAM? What’s their views on AI in general? Knowing Milky Way history and the attack on Eden Prime and the Citadel a recent memory, did the Geth influence this view? Does their view on SAM change?

Iona is definitely resistant to the idea at first. Most of it comes from the way she found out - being kicked out of the Alliance, her friends turning their backs on her, losing the future she thought she had - but some of it definitely came from working in the Attican Traverse and the recent attacks. She never thinks her father intends to create another life ending AI threat, but she does think he’s arrogant enough to actually do it. 

Fortunately, there’s a few months between when she arrives home and when they leave. She gets to spend more time with SAM then, and her view starts to change. That’s largely due to her mother’s acceptance of it, combined with the realization that she can’t change what happened through sheer dislike. By the time she gets her implant, she’s mostly come around. By the time she becomes Pathfinder, Iona views SAM as less of an AI and more of a disembodied team member. She tends to forget and occasionally has to be reminded otherwise. (SAM definitely ends up getting more data on her love life than she intended.) 

Favorite world they landed on? How do they feel getting to be the first human to step in many of these places?

Kadara was Iona’s favorite. Not because of Reyes (though that helped later) but because 1.) it’s absolutely beautiful in most places outside the port, and 2.) only the water is trying to kill her. Seriously, all of the other worlds she can explore are just actively trying to kill her at all times (lightning storms/radiation/cold/heat/enemies everywhere/no atmosphere/etc), and in Kadara all she needs to do is avoid the water. It’s like a vacation comparatively. 

Also, Kadara is proof that if the Nexus had gotten their heads out of their asses, they could have been just fucking fine without a Pathfinder. The exiles managed to survive on Kadara. The badlands aren’t ideal, sure, but with the Nexus’s resources, more water purification systems could have been built. The exiles may not be Iona’s favorite people (mainly because a lot of them try to kill her), but she does appreciate being around action takers. 

As for being the first human - in most places, she either isn’t (Eos, Kadara, Elaaden) or doesn’t feel like it because other Milky Way inhabitants have already been there (Voeld, Havarl). The only place Iona knows she’s actually the first to be in is Aya, and that’s a clusterfuck of diplomacy for her. She’s not good at diplomacy. She’s not terrible at it either - she does care a lot, and it shows when she’s not being a sarcastic shit - but she definitely wouldn’t have minded if someone else had paved the way. 

How do they feel about the Remnant? Are they worried? Curious? Simply accepting of what they can do with it?

Iona loves the Remnant. Loves it. She and Peebee geek out constantly with each other over every new discovery. It’s like being on a Prothean dig all over again, except there are less rules this time and other people will write the papers. Plus, since it’s so much newer than the Prothean artifacts, there’s more to study and (somewhat) less guesswork. 

The discovery that she can only barely affect it without SAM is kind of disappointing after everything’s calmed down. It’s a little cool - other humans can’t do it at all, so she’s kind of special - but it means it’s something she can’t do without help. No matter how much she wants to understand and study the tech, it will always be beyond her ability to operate without assistance. 

Do they ever wish they could just return to the Milky Way? Do they miss anything in particular about their old home? Did they bring anything special with them?

Knowing that the Milky Way is 600 years older than it was since last time she saw it? No, not at first. The probability that everything there would be just as foreign as it is in Helius is very real. 

Later, when she finds out that the Reapers destroyed it, she wants to take the Arks back. If they had the resources and ability to turn everyone around and arrive back home in another 600 years to recolonize and repopulate their homes? She absolutely would do it. But they can’t, not right now. Maybe one day but not a day that she’ll (probably) see. 

Instead, all she has left is a handful of photos of her mother and that leather jacket. It’s not enough. 

How do they feel about what they’ve accomplished in Helius? Are they proud? Worried? Do they feel positive about the chances for a cluster-wide unity? If they could change anything that had happened since everyone arrived in the cluster, what would it be and why?

Iona is proud of getting the Nexus to a place where they have viable solutions. They have outposts and new people now, not just a ticking clock marking down the time until they run out of food. On that level, it’s definitely a positive. Also, they’re getting along well with the Angara. 

On the other hand, just about everything else is a mess. The Remnant builders were so very far beyond the capabilities of any species they’ve met so far, and they have enemies just as powerful. And both of them intend to eventually come back. If they get there and decide to start over, there’s probably nothing they can do to stop them from wiping out everyone. 

Even without that colossal threat looming over them, they’ve still got the kett to worry about. The Archon was hard enough to deal with, and he answered to others. Those others will presumably come investigate the disappearance at some point. The Initiative has everyone they sent at this point; they can only get so much bigger. The Angara have been warring with the kett for years, and their numbers aren’t great either. If the kett come back in any kind of force, it’s going to be a hard battle. She’s not sure they’ll win. 

On a large scale level, she wishes the ships had never hit the Scourge, that they had been at full capacity when they first came out of dark space. If that’s not possible, she wishes they had all been found faster. Especially the Salarian ark. 

On a very personal, selfish level, she wishes she could have never heard the transmission about the Reapers. The Milky Way is dead and gone as far as she knows, and there’s nothing she can do about it. She can’t really even talk to people about it. It eats at her. 

[chaotic-whywolf]

Andromeda

I know my main character’s name is Andromeda - THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH MASS EFFECT I’M SORRY. It was a Intro to Fiction writing assignment and I’m really proud of it. This is a fairy tale I wrote myself.

Once upon a time, long long ago, there lived a knight and his page. The knight was gallant, heroic, and very handsome, or so he thought of himself. The reality of the man was a bit lacking. The page was a scrappy little girl of no particular heroics and a habit for collecting useless junk, or so the knight thought. The reality of the girl was quite a bit beyond the knight’s understanding. The knight was Sir Perth, and the girl was Andromeda. Together they completed many quests and in time the knight was a hero of many kingdoms, but not Andromeda. She was often overlooked and forgotten.

Who was she really? Just a scrappy nobody commoner following after the hero knight chasing, his glory. That was what the others thought of her, at least when they noticed her at all.

Andromeda was a quiet girl, who obeyed her master, even though he never noticed her accomplishments over his own. She did everything for him; she cooked for him, set up the man’s tent and banner whenever they made camp, cleaned his armor and sharpened his sword, did his laundry, and even cared for his horse, the only one so far to appreciate the girl’s efforts.

Because of the amount of work expected of her by her ungrateful master, Andromeda had little time for herself. But when she did, she liked to walk alone somewhere for a while. While on a walk she would find various things that interested her and pocket them. It was never stealing, because they were things found in nature, owned only by the wider world and God Himself. And these things that interested young Andromeda were rarely things other people cared to own. Flower petals, yellowed leaves, oddly bent branches, colorful stones; these were Andromeda’s treasures.

Once when walking through a trade town while her mentor was out shopping, Andromeda found a tomato in the gutter somewhere, forgotten and left behind by a food vendor. Andromeda picked it up, intrigued by its perfect red color.

“This must be the reddest of all reds,” she concluded, studying her find. She later showed it to her mentor, who took it from her hand and promptly threw it at a street entertainer who’s routine offended him. The knight gave a bawdy laugh at the sight of the tomato’s reddest juices oozing all over the unfortunate street performer’s face.  Later he only said “Next time, find a more rotten tomato. Tossing them is funnier that way.”

A few days after that incident they were in service of a duke with a crying duchess. The two men plotted together that the only away to get the duchess to stop crying was to give her a gift that would fill her heart with joy.

Andromeda went to the gardens of the duke’s castle and found there a rose of the most innocent pink, and a rock of a most unusual shape – perfectly round like a ball. When she presented her gifts to the knight, the duke, and the duchess, the knight scoffed at the unappealing stone but swiped the rose from her hands to present to the duchess himself. The duchess was pleased with the gift.

Andromeda dropped her stone ball then, and it rolled to the foot of the duchess’ throne before splitting into two to reveal a stunning agate. At the sight of such a beautiful gemstones inside she burst into tears of joy. The duke was so thankful to the knight that he commissioned a new sword and shield to be made of the finest materials, and hosted a feast in his honor.

Andromeda was forgotten in all the festivities.

The feast lasted a full three days. On the first day Andromeda took a walk in the gardens at high noon, when the sun was shining in full glory. She found a forgotten candle, and brought it inside. When lit, she exclaimed that it had the brightest flame of any candle she had ever seen. She named it Sun’s Torch and kept it as one of her treasures.

On the second day the knight had Andromeda working so hard and so long she could not find time to herself until late that night, when the moon was full and shining but shadowy clouds started blocking away the stars. Andromeda spied a great stone fountain with sculpted dolphins spurting water everywhere. There was something shiny in the fountain, reflecting the light of the full moon. Andromeda waded in the fountain and plucked the curious object out of the cool waters. It was a dagger, a bit rusted about the blade but still looked serviceable. Andromeda named it Moonblade and added it to her sack of treasures.

On the third day the sky was overcast with clouds, a dark angry blue poking out from between darker angrier storm clouds. Andromeda was walking along the garden’s path, head down hoping to find another agate to take with her when she and Sir Perth both inevitably left the duke’s hospitality. She found no perfectly round balls this time, but did find something far more intriguing. It looked to her to be a piece of the sky had fallen to earth before her. On the ground was a piece of blue with part of a cloud showing. She hesitantly picked it up, the sky disappeared, replaced by a reflection of her eye. It was a piece from a broken mirror. Andromeda angled the mirror so it reflected the sky once more and decided to keep it as a treasure.  

That evening, during the third and final day of feasting, Sir Perth and Andromeda were approached by a mysterious stranger. He was an old man hidden behind dark robes, when he removed his hood Andromeda could see that his eyes were clouded over with blindness.

The man spoke to them of a dungeon nearby this castle, wherein lies a gauntlet of traps and monsters which guarded a secret treasure trove of some long lost king. The old man claimed he was no fit to hazard the gauntlet himself, so he offered to lead them there and offer up a portion of the treasure in exchange for their protection. The knight, drunk on praise and wine, instantly agreed to the new quest. Andromeda was weary.

“How do you know the way to the dungeon if you can’t see?” she asked the blind man.

“My eyes may be blind but I can still see in other ways,” said the blind man.

“I do not understand you sir,” Andromeda said.

“Old wise men are rarely understood, but we are seen,” said the blind man cryptically, “Whereas little girls like yourself are said to be seen and not heard. Yet I can see that with you that is not the case. You are neither seen nor heard.”

Andromeda did not understand what the old man was trying to tell her.

“Do you mean to say you are deaf as well as blind, old man?” Andromeda asked. The blind man just smiled. Andromeda reasoned that since he did answer her first question, he must be able to hear at least some of the time. Selective deafness was amongst the most trying of all adult conditions, she had found.

In the morning the old man lead Sir Perth and Andromeda into an old growth forest to the ruins of some long forgotten castle. In the lowest part of the ruins they found a door, painted a stunning reddish brownish white. It looked to Andromeda to be the color of the sun made paint.

“Hark,” the blind man said, “There lies the door to the gauntlet. Be wary, for the gauntlet is made to test the cleverness and resourcefulness of the would-be hero. If we fail, the dungeon shall kill us.”

“I am no coward!” Sir Perth exclaimed in response to the blind man’s warning, “And I am no fool. Let this dungeon test me. It shall see I am worthy of its treasure. Girl, open the door.”

Andromeda dutifully opened the door as her mentor unsheathed his brand new sword and charged recklessly forth. She and the blind man followed more slowly. They were swallowed by darkness as the door closed behind them.

“Ow!” came Sir Perth voice.

“What is it?” Andromeda cried out to her mentor.

“I ran into a wall!” he cried, “Why what trickery is this? The front entrance itself is a dead end!”

“Not a dead end,” said the blind man, “You just passed the passage we need to take. The first challenge of the gauntlet be the Labyrinth of Infinite Darkness. We must navigate the maze to move on to the next challenge.”

“How do you expect me to solve a maze when I cannot see past my own nose? Why, I cannot see my nose at all!”

“Sadly, good sir, the only way to banish the darkness is with the light of the sun itself,” was the blind man’s answer.

It was then that Andromeda had an idea. She took from her pack Sun’s Torch and a match to light it. Once the candle was lit, the darkness receded, just as the blind man had said. She could now see the mysterious old man next to her, as well as her mentor Sir Perth before her.

“Excellent!” Sir Perth said, grabbing the candle out of Andromeda’s hands, “I always remember to bring a spare torch. And here be the passage to the next part of the maze. Oh good for – what? Another dead end?”

Even with the light of Sun’s Torch, it took them the greater part of three hours to navigate the never-ending twists and turns and dead ends of the maze. By the time they found a second door the candle was nearly gone from melted wax.

This second door was the color of the most perfect silver, near reflective in its qualities. Andromeda was reminded of the night of the full moon when she found her little dagger, Moonblade. She took the dagger from her sack now, feeling she might somehow need it.

Sir Perth opened the door and all three companions cautiously entered under the last light of the dyeing Sun’s Torch. Beyond it was a long hall, the pathway through which was flanked by twelve rows of armor stands, each a complete knight’s set, with even weapons clutched in their gauntleted hands. At the end of the hall there was a final knight on a pedestal, its armor made of black and silver metal. It wielded a ball and chain mace. Behind it was a third door.

“Well this seems easy enough,” said Sur Perth cheerfully as he stepped forward.

“Too easy,” cautioned Andromeda, clutching Moonblade to her chest as she followed her mentor.

“Be weary,” warned the blind man, following last, “These armor statues might not have eyes, but they can see into our hearts. They will judge us, seeking injustice and cowardice. Only righteous bravery can strike them down.”

“I am no coward!” Sir Perth whined. He nearly said something else when they heard a loud creaking sound from ahead. The armor stand at the end of the hall was moving!

The apparently enchanted armor stepped off its pedestal to stand before the baffled knight, a ball and chain weapon raised in its gauntleted hands. Sir Perth raised his sword to the other knight and attempted to swing at it. The blade clanged harmlessly against the breastplate of the opposing knight. Its free hand grasped Perth sword and yanked it forcefully out of his hands before throwing it across the hallway to impale deeply in the stone wall behind them.

Unarmed, Sir Perth could only cower behind his shield as his opponent raised its mace. The knight’s shield, although shiny and made of precious metals, was never built to withstand battle. The enchanted armor’s mace bashed through the knight’s shield as though it were made of nothing more than aluminum foil, leaving a deep mace-shaped dent in the now useless shield.

The other knight raised his mace for a killing blow when Andromeda acted. She ran in front of her mentor, Moonblade in hand, and stabbed at the other knight. Unlike the gilded longsword, the old steel dagger pierced through the breastplate, right where the heart would be if the armor were filled with a person instead of magic.

The armor screamed so loud it made their ears ring, as the magic inside it flashed blinding blue light. Andromeda and Sir Perth both shielded their eyes from the light. The armor’s screams ceased as the magic holding it together escaped from the wound caused by the dagger.

“I don’t believe it,” said Sir Perth, when both he and Andromeda could see and hear normally again.

“Me too,” Andromeda said, “It looks like my little Moonblade was sharper than we first imag-“

“My strike must have been delayed somehow. Perhaps the magic in the armor?” the knight interrupted her.

“What?” Andromeda stammered, “Did-didn’t you see the cut I made? With my Moonblade? I thought –“

“Your little dagger must have opened up my wound in the armor’s chest, and for that we are lucky. Now come Girl, Blind Man. We have treasure to find!” The knight charged ahead towards the final door. The blind man followed silently behind him, leaving Andromeda standing baffled in the scattered pieces of the once enchanted armor. Now Andromeda couldn’t believe it. Even after saving his life the knight still refused to notice her involvement.

She sighed in defeat before running after her mentor and their quest giver. She caught up just as the knight was reaching for the final door, painted a threatening dark gray, like storm clouds right before they spilled rain.

The knight opened the door. On the other side was a sight that took their breath away. It was the mother of all treasure rooms. There were mountains made of gold and rolling hills made of silver. There were dozens of large oaken chests, lids thrown open and overstuffed with a rainbow of sparkling gemstones. There were pearly white statues of unicorns and dragons perched between the mountains, and marble busts of kings and queens perched on bejeweled pillars. In all their lives, the companions had never seen so much wealth before.

“Be weary, brave knight, for this treasure is guarded by a most fearsome beast,” the blind man announced. He pointed his finger to one of the nearby gold mountains. “Hark, there! Shifting of the coins. The guardian comes for us.”

CURROW, CURROW!

There was a dreadful crowing coming from behind the gold, so loud and frightening it hurt the companion’s ears.

“Be weary friends! This beast is a basilisk! Do not look at it or you will perish!” the blind man called out over the monster’s crows.

The knight put two hands over his eyes immediately, whimpering and shaking in fear in his own armor. Andromeda turned her body away from the beast’s direction. The old man did nothing to shield his eyes from the oncoming basilisk. This creature’s weapon was its poisonous sight, yet the old man’s blind eyes were immune to its gaze.

Andromeda was thinking frantically how to get out of this situation. She could try to slay the basilisk with her Moonblade, but with her sight impaired how could she hope to land a killing blow. She’d simply stumble around just as clumsily as Sir Perth with her hand over her eyes, swinging the dagger wildly around, and the basilisk would easily cut her down with tooth and claw. She had to find a way to see the basilisk without it killing her.

She reached into her bag and brought out her piece of the sky – the broken mirror shard. No longer reflecting the clouds above it showed instead the gold and gems behind her shoulder. Andromeda wondered, since she would never survive the basilisk’s naked gaze, would the reflected gaze of the creature be rendered harmless? She would have to risk it.

Angling the mirror to the best view of the treasure room, she saw the basilisk come out of hiding. It was an uncommonly ugly beast. The basilisk’s body was long and serpentine, covered with scales of a most unfortunately ugly shade of green and yellow. It had 2 clawed chicken’s feet and two bat-shaped wings flaring behind its back. Worst, the basilisk’s head was shaped like that of a particularly large and angry green rooster.

The basilisk’s eyes never saw Andromeda. Instead they found its own eyes reflected back at it in the broken mirror. For the first time it saw itself; the scaly serpentine tail, the bat-like wings and the rooster’s head, the glowing crimson irises filled with hate. Then it saw nothing.

The basilisk’s squawk cut short. After a moment of silence Andromeda looked up from behind her hand to find the beast’s lower half was now stone. She risked looking further up, and found its shoulders and wings were stone too. As was the creature’s head. Andromeda couldn’t read the faces of animals very well, but she could swear the monster’s face was petrified in an expression of fear.

She found Sir Perth quivering behind a pillar. When he realized the basilisk was no more he straightened and regained his composure.

“Excellent!” the knight exclaimed, “Now that the monster is dead I shall claim its treasure! Come Girl, empty the sack of that garbage so it may be filled with gold and jewels.”

Andromeda frowned at her mentor. She didn’t want to give up her treasures. But she unshouldered her pack and removed Moonblade and laid it down on the ground beside her piece of the sky. The knight gleefully took the bag from her and began filling it with handfuls of shining coins.

Andromeda wandered around the treasure room. She found something to interest her, an old piece of folded cloth wedged beneath one of the chests. She pulled it free to find it was an ancient map, brown with age. It showed the location of a new dungeon, with its own riches, a new quest.

She was about to show the map to Sir Perth when she hesitated.

“I see you are finally rethinking your partnership,” said the old man suddenly.

“I cannot leave Sir Perth,” Andromeda insisted, “He could never live without me.”

“I can see that. He is far more dependent on you than you are of him. But are you willing to live your entire life in the shadow of a fool and a coward?” the old man questioned.

“I – no I don’t. I don’t want to be never seen and never heard anymore, and I don’t want to be seen and not heard. I want to be both seen and heard!” Andromeda came to a realization, finally understanding what the old man had been saying to her all along.  

“I want to be an adventurer by myself someday,” she continued, “To have my own quests. I want to find my own treasures and keep them for myself. I do not want to be ignored anymore, and I do not want my treasures to be called garbage ever again.” Andromeda said it all with a certainty she didn’t know she had.

“Then do those things. Use that map, and whatever treasures you find in your travels. Leave Sir Perth here, he has claimed enough treasure here he can happily retire to some fare off castle with a princess bride. He has achieved his dream, and will have no further use for you. Go live your own dreams for yourself.” the old man beckoned.

Andromeda nodded and ran back to where she left Moonblade and her piece of the sky, wrapped them up in her map and left out the back door without ever taking a coin. The door was a bright clean white, the color of hope.

The End