#spatial anomalies

[felixwylde]

Dimensional Breaches and Biological Anomalies: Empirical Evidence from the Backrooms Exploration Initiative By Dr. Alexey Petrovitch Ivanoff, Dr. Serina Zhang, Dr. Micheal Torrez, Dr. Emilie Rousseaux, and Dr. Rajj Patel. Abstract:The recent empirical validation of the Backrooms, a complex network of extradimensional spaces, has revolutionized multidisciplinary scientific research, presenting…

[sburbian-sage]

Uh one of my coplayers just alchemized this fucking? Thing? I dont even know what its supposed to be

Its like if someone fed an 8 ball through a image corruptor

It also gave him something called artifact grist? Which I've just never even seen or heard of before?

Got this thing so shitty it's amazing and mildly horrifying

Being around it makes the metaphorical hair on the back of my neck raise so i can only assume its fucking with space (I'm a knight of space)

When you turn it it only shows like quarter sections? It's really hard to describe

Like it doesn't have a full shape it only changes when you reach a certain point while rotating it

Kind of like an old video game or something

Tried shaking it and it just said help me on the little triangle thing inside

This shits kinda scary

First, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. It's always fun seeing someone's first reaction to Artifact Grist. Get used to them, because they are really funny and there's literally no downside to making them (outside of "you have a 3D JPG now", which is it's own form of punishment).

Second, since you seem a bit confused, these types of items are made when you alchemize an item with a JPG-type item. Either a piece of paper with a printed photo that's been bitcrushed to hell, or a particularly low-res captchalogue ghost image. Either way, it makes not only the most low-quality janktastic version of that item, it even renders it as a item, creating something that is somehow simultaneously 2D and 3D. I can only imagine the reason why the 8ball is freaking you out so much is not only because it's a 3D object turned 2D somehow-still-an-object, but it contains other objects (despite being 2D and thus should have no volume) which are themselves 3D to 2D converts. That must be like nails on a chalkboard to Space players. It rules, doesn't it?

But yeah, they're basically worthless pieces of shit. They don't even cost anything, the game gives you Artifact Grist for making them, that's how bad it is (and I don't think it's even usable for anything, it's just there to take up space). The singular upside to these types of items is that it's like kryptonite to Zilly-type equipment. Of course, it's one thing to make an Artifact Sword or something, it's another thing entirely to wield it, considering it has the properties and dimensions of paper without actually resembling paper in any way. And ranged weapons either outright don't work, or the projectiles defy physics in horrifying ways and are guaranteed to hit anything but the thing it's pointing at.

[talentforlying]

what did you just do?

do a friend a favor, they said. just have a sniff around, they said. not a snowball's chance in hell that somebody's gone and plucked a major leyline like a cello string and sent thousands of years of mystical energy reverberating off itself in an ever-growing feedback loop that's threatening to obliterate the city off the map. ( nobody said that, because who the fuck would even THINK of something like that, but it still feels like a pretty important omission. )

and NATURALLY, just as he's wrapping up, here's a looky-loo he'd completely fucking missed. who's just caught him elbow-deep in a morass of light and color that's also giving off the phantom screams of hundred-year-old witches being burnt at the stake. oops.

' er. s'one of them . . . EDM SHOWS goin' on next week, yeah? and i'm . . . practicing. the light show bit. real complicated shite. ' cutting and running is starting to look like a more feasible option. he doesn't know fuckall about EDM. ' . . . come here often? ' oh yeah, that's much better. great save, con job.

@fasciinating / GOOD OMENS 2 STARTERS ( always accepting )

[russellmoreton]

Working/Thinking/Making Spaces: Canterbury 2009 by Russell Moreton

[quasi-normalcy]

It occurs to me that Lower Decks is the first series to really make explicit what was implicit on Deep Space Nine but never really said outright, namely that the Dominion War was fought largely by a bunch of people who'd joined Starfleet to catalogue alien fungus and spatial anomalies, not save the Alpha Quadrant.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: 10 Uncommon Magic Systems

These examples of unique magic systems might pique your curiosity and inspire your next fantasy epic. 

Color Magic: Harnessing colors to invoke specific spells or effects.

Sound Magic: Crafting spells through vocal tones, vibrations, or musical instruments.

Time Magic: Manipulating the past, present, or future, often bending the laws of physics.

Egoic Magic: Altering one's sense of self or emotions to use as a magical conduit.

Manufactured or Artificial Magic: Magic crafted or produced through synthetic means (e.g. via objects or alchemical processes).

Nothingness Magic: Conjuring voids or vacuums, often manifesting as spatial anomalies.

Glass Magic: Manipulating glass to create barriers, projectiles, or even complex machinery.

Astrology-Based Magic: Drawing powers from celestial bodies or zodiac signs.

Fate Magic: Influencing destiny or chance to manifest predetermined outcomes.

Bio-magic: Utilizing biological processes or traits for supernatural effects.

Incorporating lesser-covered categories of magic can set your story apart in an oversaturated market, helping you carve out your distinct niche and voice. Source

More: On Fantasy ⚜ Writing Notes & References Writing References: Worldbuilding ⚜ Plot ⚜ Character

[loveandlegacy]

act i-ii viktor gets all the cred for the quasi-christian imagery and i understand why even tho i think the aesthetic association is actually kind of shallow and one of the much weaker points of the art direction of s2 but i think these shots of ekko both on their own and in comparison are especially strong invocations of divinity. the weirdness of what the anomaly does to bodies is such a lovely visual signifier for both spatial hyperdimensionality and the kind of less serious concept of 'biblically accurate angels'. the staging and the lighting too and the halo of the anomaly itself, with powder/jinx holding other-ekko a la bouguereau's madonna/pieta – it reads like a contemporary take on an annunciation without feeling overwhelmingly derivative. all this for the boy savior. i love it a lot

[fazfuri]

Heelllooo! Greetings ^^

So i was scrolling around in your blog and i saw that Deity push Mr. Ford into the bottomless pit once, was it an accident or did he meant it? If he meant it then why? (Also how come Mr. Ford is okey with that ‘^’)

Deity, sitting on the edge with his arms crossed:

Ford, popping back up after a few moments: WOAA- OOF!

Deity: So did you find anything or are you going to postpone the portal?

Ford: T-that's amazing! A spatial loop anomaly! It's like an entry point of a revolving dooranditconfirmstheexistenceofreversalzones— *mutter mutter mutter*

Deity: Alright, calm down-

Ford: Is that why you didn't hesitate to push me off because you knew I was going to pop back up?

Deity: Tch, I'm offended you assumed I'd do something so irrational as harming you. Of course, I knew. It did help quench that curious mind of yours, didn't it?

Ford: Haha, Thank you, My muse. But I would've appreciated it if I knew what you were doing beforehand. It honestly scared me.

Deity: That's payback for halloween

Ford: Hm? What did you say?

Deity: Nothing.

[savi-our]

Anti-Harem with OP Mage MC pt. 3 ft. Horrortale

Its 3 am- This... this is over 3k words.... I'm both cooking and cooked apparently bc this is even longer and more detailed than the last part, I honestly dont know what came over me. The ending is a bit rushed and im posting this half asleep and barely able to make sense of whether or not any of this is actually good but i wanted to post it before going off to sleep - i do hope you enjoy it though, even if by this point im not sure you can call it an anti harem... maybe ill explore that bit more in the next part.... (p.s. i would love love looove to hear you guy's thoughts on what ive cooked up here so please leave a comment if youre inclined to <3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

It had been a few weeks since the attack on the monster settlement and your work kept you busy. Black and Mutt had both been a welcome new change as far as your experience in monsters went, the three of you seemed to grow closer by the day - sharing the mutual burdens of your job whenever you had any amount of free time. You and Black formed a good professional relationship, often sharing insights on the progress of monster integration into the world outside, and Mutt - albeit avoidant, seemed to develop an interest in watching you whenever he thought you wouldn't notice. He even sometimes visited you whenever his brother had been busy, coming to your office to slump on your couch and waste away his free time, scrolling through his phone and trying not to get caught staring at you while you filed away paperwork.

It was on a particularly early morning that you had arrived at your office, still dazed from your lack of sleep when a new case appeared at your desk. You rarely did personal requests, but this one you could hardly refuse as it had come from one of the joint rulers of the Underground. 

Queen Toriel summoned you, and you listened as she told you her concerns about a particular percentage of her population having an especially difficult time with the integration process. You picked up on the finer details of her request - unspoken words to her plea.

You were aware of the spatial anomaly that had caused the particular brand of chaos that was currently plaguing Monsterkind, a rift that had caused a collision of alternates and pulled them all here. It was a guarded secret among the higher ranking officials, the details shared only to those who were known to be trusted - or to those who were smart enough to see beyond the fragile lie. You were both you supposed, the Archmage themselves requested your insight into the matter, and you offered to consult wherever you could. It didn't surprise you that the Queen turned to you for assistance - involved as you were in the matter.

You agreed to her request, you could hardly refuse considering the high brand on the paperwork, the signature of the Archmage looped in finer print at the corner of the page. You left promptly, assigning a trusted associate of yours to man the office while you were gone, unfortunately the urgency of your task bid no time to waste so you left without notifying the two skeletons that had seemed to be stuck in your orbit as of late, but that was the nature of things when you had such a demanding position.

You were relocated into the depths of the Underground, a rather lavish apartment greeting you in the shadow of the castle of the royal families, but you had little time to waste, the faster you got to work the smoother the integration process would be.

You met with those currently overseeing the progress of the whole thing, a joint department consisting of monsters, humans and mages - social workers, professors, doctors, therapists and volunteers - all with ample experience concerning the more particular quirks that came with joining cultures and assessing risks where there were any. Your status would do you more harm than good here - you realize early on, advised by the royal court to take a more personal approach as you shed down your heavy coats and branded insignias - monsters in the underground were still rather wary of mages, especially ones as infamous as you. You took on the faux position of a well renowned inspector, and set yourself to figuring out what the problem was and how best to solve it.

It was there that you met them, two new yet rather familiar faces that were introduced to you as the spokespersons for the rebuffed population, Twilight and Dusk by name. 

Twilight was large, even by monster standards, a lean silhouette that towered over any others in the room with a set of jagged teeth and a weathered look to his eyes. His appearance however, seemed to be rather misleading. He was friendly, overly so, extending his hand to you in his introduction as he shook yours with a controlled precision, his crooked grin lifted, delighted to meet a new face among the many who were already so familiar over his long stay in the program. He was chatty, friendly even, a social butterfly that delighted in telling you about the many state of affairs that flitted about the establishment. There were some quirks however… every now and again he confused words, voiced idioms that you could hardly make sense of - something about frisbees. He had ticks, nervous habits and moments of sudden cautious anxiety that brought concerns to your mind, there were times where he seemed almost manic, a rattling in his bones as he flitted about the room as if trying to burn off excess magic, trying to keep his hands and mind occupied.

Then there was Dusk. Like his brother he was considerably larger than the average monster. He was bulkier, bigger, an imposing presence in the room that set even your nerves on edge. He seemed dangerous, more than any of the other monsters you've come across, something in your mind whispered caution as you introduced yourself. The best word you could use to describe Dusk was heavy, both literally and metaphorically. He dragged his words as if he practically pulled them from the depths of his mind, his movements were slow, weighed almost by some unforeseen force you could not comprehend, and every now and again he lost focus, a single red eyelight dilated and staring promptly into nothing. His mind was both sharp and slow at the same time, he often shared insights that were surprising in their outside perspective, he commented on things that others had passed by in their expertise - drawing attention to underlying issues that had been overlooked due to the fact that nobody had really thought of them as issues before he made comment. He had a finer eye for detail, but at the same time there were moments where he'd lose his train of thought, a byproduct of his severe head wound no doubt, words forgotten on the tip of his tongue - moments like those seemed frustrate him quite badly, his fingers pulled on his one blank eye socket in quiet irritation. On his better days he'd make offhanded puns that were rather dark in theme - cannibalism seemed to be a favorite of his. On his bad days his voice turned cold, words sharp as his grin pulled on his face almost maniacally, he was tense, guarded like a cornered dog ready to bare teeth.

It had taken you some time to get situated in your new environment, you spent your days meeting with the other monsters who shared similar ailments to both Twilight and Dusk, consulting with the people directly responsible for their integration process and finding correlations between things that worked best and those that didn't work at all. A common pattern in all of those monsters became clear days after your assignment, the heightened cases of sudden anxiety and panic attacks. It was odd to you for some reason, it wouldn't be unnatural for this particular batch of alternates to suffer from such things, considering what you knew they had gone through back in their own reality, but something about it seemed odd.

You investigated your suspicions further, repeatedly meeting monsters and doctors alike, questioning them about the intricacies of their ailments, trying to garner light on the plausible cause for the widespread issue. Twilight seemed eager to help you, he often accompanied you in your search for more information, more knowledge, and his assistance proved quite useful - when you questioned him as to why he seemed so willing to assist you, he responded with an abashed admission - a want to help the monsters who were struggling most finally see the light of day, to taste the fresh air of the outside world, they had been stuck underground for too long. He often stayed with you after hours, organizing papers and research as you delved into the mystery with a hyper focused obsessiveness. You found you always became like this, obsessive over things you could not define or explain, it was that part of you that had helped you rise in power as fast as you had, starved for answers, eager to explore and redefine the things unknown to you- it was almost nostalgic in a way.

 Twilight had a talent for filling blanks in your knowledge, unfamiliar territory as this was he often offered you more insight in the particularities of monster illnesses and behavioral patterns that you were not privy to. You often asked him for clarifications and added depth to your research and he provided them eagerly - either through his own knowledge or systematically organized interviews and research papers that were color coordinated and alphabetized neatly on your desk. He had a knack for organization that one, but you couldn't help but notice how his expression soured whenever he had to bend to lift a particularly heavy box of files off the floor - he tried to hide it, face turned away and the occasional popping of bones concealed by the clear of his throat, but you noticed. You tentatively questioned him about it one late evening, not wishing to pry more than he was comfortable with. He seemed embarrassed by your attentiveness but didn't deny it, hands clasped and pulling on his long fingers in a nervous habit. He revealed to you that the current brand of healing magic and medicine could do very little for his deteriorated state, the effect was not potent enough or so it seemed. The fact didn't sit right with you, and you decided in your mind that you could multitask.

Your research prolonged, and your frustrations grew as the answer to your questions evaded you. You began to spend more time in your office than in your pristine afforded apartment, head buried in books and rushed consultations between experts in the department. Your obsessiveness seemed to grow, and with it your attention to your health lessened, overtaken by a constant hunger for answers. That hunger seemed to replace your baser instincts however, and one particularly busy day the consequences of your declining attention to your physical state seemed to catch up with you.

 You had been on your way to another scheduled meeting with an on site surgeon, carrying a closed file with a hurried pace, you were far too absorbed in your head to notice the shake of your own fingers, or the way the corners of your vision blurred. You were so absorbed in fact, that you didn't even notice the sudden approach of Dusk from the hall across from you. You had ran right into him, nose buried in the plush of his sweater as you had your senses knocked right out of you. The contact didn't even phase him, and he had caught you by the forearm to steady you. You had apologized, noting how it was unlike you to be so distracted in your surroundings. He hadn’t seemed to mind, his large eyelight coming to a soft focus on the point of contact with your arm. 

The force of your run in with him had knocked the file you were carrying onto the ground however, and as you leaned down in your hurry to grab it the world around you spun. You lost your bearings, and your vision turned to black as you fainted, vaguely aware of the pull of someone's arms around you.

You had woken up in one of the medical rooms, an IV in your arm and a growing headache in the corner of your mind. Dusk was there too, hunched in an office chair that was far too small for his hulking frame, you would have laughed - if you hadn't felt like shit at the time that is. Your movement seemed to wake him from his zoning out, and he had leveled you with a look that you couldn't readily discern - something of a mix between worry, scrutiny and confusion. The doctor on hand had walked in to check up on you, cautioning you to pay better attention to your health, you had felt like a child, embarrassed with your own state. Dusk had sat silent next to your bed while you were being discharged, and as you stood to leave with an order to go home and get some rest from the doctor, he stood with you.

The skeleton escorted you home, a silent but unmistakable presence at your side and as you were ready to thank him and say your goodbyes at your door, he had asked you when you had last gotten something to eat - you couldn't give him a straight answer. 

He had pushed his way inside your temporary home then, and you questioned him in your confusion as he opened your fridge to find it mostly empty, he clicked his tongue, a low growling hum from the pit of his ribs as he pushed you down on your couch with a stern order to ‘wait here’

He blinked out of existence then, returning after a while with a greasy bag of food and he urged you to eat, pushing the bag in your lap despite your urge of protests. You complied, silently eating under the watchful eye of his softly dilated gaze.

From then on Dusk began to visit your office on a regular basis, bringing both you and Twilight regular meals and spending his time lounging in one of the bigger chairs available at the time, idly flipping through books. His presence seemed to anchor you, and often he knocked you out of your hyper focused state with a random pun or an offhand comment about the weather. It worked, your urgency had stilled to a healthy normal, mind clearer as both brothers had now taken to paying a keen interest in your physical condition. You still remembered the frantic lecture Twilight had given you after your little trip to the emergency room. He had begun to limit your time in the office after that, setting a healthy time table with a balanced schedule for both rest and work.

The growing connection between the three of you was plain as day, and as days passed you began to find the answers you were so desperately looking for. It was a regular day in the office when you finally solved the mystery - a calm afternoon spent in a comfortable conversation with the brothers over a cup of tea and some snacks Twilight had graciously shared. You had been brainstorming with the brothers, shooting off your theories for plausible causes when Dusk piped in with something that caught your attention. 

You almost dropped the cup of tea you had been idly cradling in your hand. Jumping up to your feet in a newly discovered frenzy, you rifled through a box of files that had been offhandedly pushed to the side, and as you flipped through a particular heavy file about dietary needs it was then that it hit you, something so simple and so overlooked - of course Dusk would have been the one to point it out. Your grin was almost manic in its excitement as the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place, and you turned to the brothers that had gathered behind you in their confusion. You pulled each of them down by their faces, placing a loud smack of your lips on both of their foreheads and watched their faces glow warm as you called them both a genius. You rushed out of the office, missing exchanged looks of embarrassment - eager to share and confirm your discovery.

It was simple really, so easy to miss in all the confusion of the spatial rift and the ongoing process of integration. It was the food that was making the monsters so sick and riddled with anxiety. Coming from a reality here there had been a significant shortage of food - the first response of the healthier populace had been to feed them, feed them as much as they wanted to eat, it was natural really. Except monster food - magical in nature had high levels of energy, too high for a population of monsters that had been previously so deprived of sustenance. It made their magic run rampant, fluctuate in its intensity with high highs and even lower lows. It was the same in humans, eating too much after starving made the patient sick and would effectively do more harm than good. The answer was right there all along, and you cursed yourself at not seeing it sooner.

Things moved quickly after that, you wasted no time to form a plan of order for a change in provisions, something less straining, human food imbued with magical properties was the natural choice. It would take time for the monster's conditions to stabilize, but after a few days on the new program you began seeing positive results. You had reported your success to the royal family and Toriel had once again summoned you for a showing of your solution. If things went as predicted, the rebuffed population would soon show results of steady improvement, they would finally be prime and ready for the further relocation process.

The queen had thanked you for your service and had shown you a rather unexpected act of kindness in doing so, inviting you over to her rooms for a private tea party where you both conversed not like high mage and ruler, but as two troubled souls with the weight of the world on each of your shoulders. It was pleasant, if not a bit awkward on your part, but Toriel seemed to have a knack for making someone feel welcome.

It was a couple of days before your departure that you had invited the skeleton brothers to your apartment for a celebration dinner, you had surprised them with a meal of your own making. Expertly following the guide of their new diet you had imbued it with your own magic, the fact seemed to fluster the brothers for some reason, but they were unwilling to comment as to the reason why. 

The evening trailed off in shared conversation, and as the hour grew late, the mood slightly sombered, it seemed like both Twilight and Dusk had something they had been meaning to confess for a while now, but it had never seemed like the right time. You had a feeling you knew what it was about - they weren't aware of just how much you knew about their past -you had been pretending to be a high ranking inspector after all, a secret as big as alternate realities wouldn't be handed off to someone as low down the hierarchy as that.

It was then that they opened up to you, a cautious whispered admission of their past sins, sins bred out of desperation and grief. In a moment of your own vulnerability you told them you knew, you knew and understood. You reassured them that it didn't change your opinion of them, you shared gentle words of encouragement, soft admissions of your own grief filled memories. 

You would not judge them for their past, because you saw in them a desperate wish for a better life, a fragile hope that they could learn to become monsters capable of loving themselves. 

Perhaps it was wrong, out of all the people in the world it was you who were the greatest threat to their continued existence. You realized you held their fragile future in your scarred hands, and decided to trust in the goodness in their souls.

[monstersdownthepath]

I had a dream last night of a mage attempting to create a renewable source of extradimensional spaces to make mass-production of Bags of Holding possible, so they magically infused a spatial anomaly into a bunch of rodents and crossbred them until the alteration finally stuck to see if it was possible to easily create bags from their leather and organs.

However, what ended up happening was whatever entity(/entities) is on the other side of a Bag of Devouring slipped a tentacle across space into the swarm of rodents, so what the wizard ended up with was a bunch of insatiable, all-consuming hamsters that could, if starved, belch out feeding limbs eight times their size to tear through whatever was getting between them and their food, and suck human-sized meals into their teeny tiny extradimensional Cheek Pouches Of Holding to nibble on at their leisure.

The dream ended before anything else happened, but I'm definitely saving this to work on (or commission thecreaturecodex to stat) during my break!

[trek-tracks]

Starfleet Therapist: I recommend journaling.

Ensign: Because it will help me process my feelings?

Starfleet Therapist (nervously eyeing the nearby spatial anomaly that caused everyone on the last three ships to completely lose their memories): Uh, yeah. And hey, don't skimp on the details.

[same-pic-rick-roll]

Me when the horde of undead mummies form a corpse pyramid to help their descendent climb a spatial anomaly and save their kingdom:

[russellmoreton]

Concrete Surfaces : Anatomy #2 by Russell Moreton Via Flickr: Dark Gothic Sensuality Contact Photography Science and Art

[consumcd-by-timc]

 .˚˖⊹ ࣪ ˖ ೱ   ⴵ   ೱ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖ .˚— The void is calm, the void is still. Not unlike a mix of tar and water, there stands an unassuming puddle in the middle of the ground. To ones seasoned in spatial anomalies this would appear to be a tear in reality, though clearly too neatly portioned to be some sort of metaphysical mishap. Even more interestingly, this puddle seemed to gently move as if it were alive. “Creature of matter… heed my call…” Whispers akin to echoes pool around the environment. A voice, ancient and of a pitch so low and thick it could injure sensitive ears, calling whoever curious enough to step towards the strange puddle. Upon one finding themselves close enough, the infinite nothing enclosed within this simple shape would be more than apparent. The void stares right back at you. The voice, now louder as it envelops it's prey—it's sacrifice—reverberates into one's entire being. “I have a gift for you…. if you pledge yourself to my being, immense power could be yours.”

[puppetmaster13u]

Have a WIP of an SCP take on Gotham and their vigilantes :]

Unexplained Location UE-300027

Description: A large city on an island in South Jersey, which does not show up on any maps, nor does it appear to be able to be mapped outside of purchasing a map from inside the city. Several streets appear to have spatial anomalies, including but not limited to gravitational differences, temporal anomalies, disappearances, movement, and slight sentience. Other anomalies appear during the night as well. 

Date of Discovery: 3/23/1937

Location: New Jersey, USA

Security Protocol: Initially there was none, as the Foundation was initially too ill-equipped to set up a permanent residence within. Beginning in [Redacted] Outpost [Redacted] was set up and most bridges into the city have been cut off from the public. No less than four teams of security are to be at each entrance and the city’s airport monitored. 

Note: Extended time has also been noted to drive several operatives clinically insane. Every operative within Outpost [Redacted] is to be assigned no longer than two weeks per with at least one month away. 

Note: After the construction of Outpost [Redacted] another anomaly appeared, though during the day instead of the usual night of previous ones. 

[creatureprofessor]

For day 5 of @terroryuriweek - alternate universe

(click for better quality!)

Portrait of arcane navigator Le Vesconte and saint-guided navigator Fitzjames, who were assigned as core navigators for the expedition tasked with mapping out the spatial anomaly known as the "Northwest Passage". Taken in 845 A.C. near the skyport of New Greenhithe, colorized.

More about them and this AU under readmore:

This is the Skyship Navigators or simply Navigators AU, which exists in a universe I created a couple years ago, and just plonked the Terror guys as women in there. Actually, there are 2 stories taking place in this world before this AU which have nothing to do w The Terror, but more on those at another time.

In a nutshell, this universe is somewhat similar to our Earth, yet the rules of magic, science and such are different. No machine more advanced than a steam engine can really exist in there; at least, not in a large scale because of Anomalies.

Centuries ago, an event called the Seven Days of Calamity happened, which then made advanced machinery unusable, and caused pocket disturbances all over the planet (think of the book Roadside Picnic or the Divine Cities trilogy). These Anomalies vary in shape, size and abilities, but they essentially made land travel very risky and travel by sea nearly impossible. This is why humanity uses skyships for trade and travel, and the role of navigators has changed as well.

Because in the aftermath of the Calamity, new powers entered the picture: the fae, the arcane and saints which each existed before, but on a much more obscure scale. Also, there is no Christianity or Catholicism here they way it is in our world, it all works differently as the saints don't pray to God to grant miracles or to save someone, they themselves help their navigator.

There are 4 types of navigators: the Faeguided, arcane navigators (commonly known as ‘conduits’), saint-guided navigators (c.k. as ‘vessels’) and the Comedians, a rogue faction relying on lost then unearthed knowledge. Their job is to ensure the ship takes a safe route through the sky, with some help.

For brevity’s sake, arcane navigation relies on harnessing arcane magic to find safe paths, but it is highly addictive, and prolonged usage will lead to loss of sensation in the limbs and then to gradual paralysis. This can be mitigated by using arcane yet again to regain feeling, but this will make it all worse in the long run. But it’s the most powerful navigation type, as a conduit can also protect the ship itself from outside damage by conjuring shields.

Saint-guided navigators, as the name suggests, rely on the guidance and protection of their patron saint, each navigator having one. It is the “safest bet” of navigation, and the most prestigious. The Aerial Admiralty, who issues out navigators and deals with their training prefers it over the others.

Now for Dundy and Fitzjames:

Henriette Tamsin Dundas Le Vesconte (or Dundy to her friend(s)) is a middle-grade, but competent and reliable arcane navigator, assigned to be the core navigator on HMS Erebus alongside Fitzjames, with HMS Terror having saint-guided navigators Garnet Gore (originally from Erebus, a last-minute change) and Johanna Irving. Dundy is easy-going and easy to like, yet under the surface she can be quite headstrong and selfish, and can sometimes treat people with elegantly disguised impatience. She and Fitzjames have known each other since their early days at the Admiralty, had a thing back then, split while remaining the best of friends, but still land in each other’s arms from time to time.

Now, “She Who Lights the Way”, James or Jaimie Fitzjames (she uses both) is the poster child of the Admiralty, the ideal saint-guided navigator. Her patron saint is Saint James the Unblemished (partly why she decided to stick w James), whose jawbone she keeps sealed inside a compartment in her helmet (many vessels do this with relics). Normally, a prolonged patronage of a saint leads to the loss of individual identity, hallucinations and dissociation, but so far James remained largely unaffected. Graceful, decisive and brave, she is often first in line to protect the ship and has been employed on warships before, earning a gilded reputation. However, she keeps her past battle injuries a secret and her presence can be somewhat of an annoyance with her seemingly endless anecdotes. She never said it out loud, but losing Dundy would be a great tragedy for her, as she remains her best, and perhaps only friend.

But much will change during the course of that fateful expedition…