#technically in absentia but still

[kcscribbler]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged as always by @elodiah.

More Storyteller cutscene shenanigans, because nothing else is cooperating with me right now.

Loki looks up when a plastic tray – black, he notes absently, instead of the hideous orange of the primary TVA’s cafeteria – hits the table across from him, and then double-takes. “You’re not Mobius.” “Clearly.” The young agent Loki is unfamiliar with, who seems to be part of Mobius’ inner circle in this new TVA, looks down at him over a pair of dark glasses. She sets a padded electronics sleeve down as well, but doesn’t take the seat yet. “He’s been detained. Special council meeting. I was asked to let you know. Would you prefer to eat alone?” From their brief interactions to date, Loki has found this woman to be refreshingly direct. She also appears to know more than most about the inner workings of this place; and particularly, about Mobius. And Loki is not above pressing a strategic advantage, when the opportunity literally walks up to him. Blackmail material is always worth acquiring for future use. He gestures toward the seat with a dramatic flourish. “Please, be my guest.” As she sits, Loki puts his glass down, frowning as the words belatedly register. “A special council meeting?” “Actually necessary. They’re usually tactical in nature, multiversal war strategy.” She twists the lid from a container of salad – not the boring (“it’s classic, you royal snob”) kind Mobius enjoys, but some elevated version containing what look like nuts and sliced strawberries amid the mixture of green leaves, as well as some kind of crumbling cheese. “But they’re always long. We won’t see him for at least three hours.” Loki’s eyebrow inclines slightly. “Does this special council of yours have a regular habit of holding their meetings with no regard for the work and break times of their satellite branch?” A loud snort. “You could say that.” Octavia spears a chunk of lettuce with her fork and then points it at him. “Which is why I sent someone after him. We actually have a special protocol for these things, Protocol J.” “Indeed?” “Oh, yes. Some asshole in a Santa Monica Jamba Juice is wondering where his smoothie went, right about now.”

No-pressure tags! @lokimobius @dilfmobius @thosegayoldmen @in-my-loki-feels @loki-is-my-kink-awakening

@impulsemuppet @asoeiki @natendo-art @boredintjqueen @wolfpup026

@thewildballyntynesgrow @justabigoldnerd @andthekitchensinkao3 @scifikimmi @insomniaflarrow Whatcha workin' on?

[pneumaticshift]

I just read the latest chapter of BLP!! SO GOOD. Hal’s quiet resignation is such a mood haha. He’s in it for the long haul, unfortunately. It also made me think of a prompt if you’re interested.

What if established batlantern featured a Hal that was a master guilt tripper? I feel like the bats are so emotionally repressed that open emotion or, dare I say, even open crying from Hal would immediately give him an upper hand against most of them.

Now who could fuck up enough in the family that the normally chill Hal would use this power for evil? Who’s to say haha.

Love your stuff! Hope you’re having a good day :)

Ahh, thank you so much!! Really glad you're enjoying it.

I had a lot of fun with your prompt. I feel like Hal's not much of a dick to be emotionally manipulative for big serious things, but he'd definitely use it to be the petty little shit he was always destined to be. I hope you like it 💚💚🦇

———

Jason liked to limit his time in the manor, mostly because he didn’t want Bruce to get the wrong idea. The last thing he needed was the old man to think he was on the verge of some grand, heartfelt return to the family. He certainly wasn’t planning on moving back in or, god forbid, partaking in some kind of formal reinstatement into the fold. 

No, obviously Jason wasn’t here out of any sense of comfort. It was all strictly practical. Maybe his safehouse had a busted boiler. Maybe his internet was out. Maybe Gotham was just particularly miserable tonight and he still hadn’t fixed the window in his apartment.

Then again, there was something about the quiet hum of the Batcomputer that made his shoulders loosen just a fraction. Not that he’d ever acknowledge it, out loud or otherwise. He leaned back in his chair, boots propped up on the console just to annoy Bruce in absentia. Jason planned to be gone way before the old man came back from whatever corner he was brooding in, but Jason liked to believe he’d feel a vague sense of irritation by proxy. 

He wasn’t staying, obviously. He’d just come to borrow some gear. A few upgrades, maybe a couple of batarangs. Not because he needed them, but because stealing from Bruce had always been a real satisfying hobby. Sure, he might have taken a detour to the library to swipe a few of Bruce’s first editions, too. One of them had even been bookmarked, which made it infinitely more enjoyable to take.

Now he was sprawled out in front of the Batcomputer, making a dent in some leftover sesame chicken straight from the container. He didn’t know who’s it was, but Batfamily law decreed that if it had been in the fridge for more than a day, then it was fair game. 

Jason had been in the middle of watching a blurry video compilation of Cursed Gotham Sightings — which included at least three separate clips of himself when he was still running about in his more homicidal phase, and one video of Bruce eating shit after his grapple broke — when the Batcave’s security gave a low, lazy chime. That meant someone with clearance had entered. Which, in turn, meant that Jason didn’t have to shoot them. A shame, really. 

He barely had enough time to decide on his excuse for being there when Hal Jordan floated in like he belonged. 

And, okay, technically he did these days, and that was something Jason was still struggling to wrap his head around. Hal had been dating Bruce for a while now, long enough that Jason stopped expecting it to be some elaborate prank or an undercover operation that Bruce had neglected to inform the family about.

Somehow, against all logic, rhyme or reason, the Green Lantern actually wanted to spend time with Bruce. Voluntarily. Without, like, an ulterior motive. And Jason had yet to determine if that meant Hal had some kind of latent head injury or if he just really enjoyed the suffering that came with a man who’d rather break a bone than express any kind of positive emotion. 

Hal took one look at Jason, then at the takeout box in his hand. "Is that my sesame chicken?”

Jason paused mid-bite and very deliberately glanced down at the takeout box. There was a smudge of sauce on the lid, a logo he hadn’t bothered to look at before, and something suspiciously close to Hal’s name scrawled on the side in what was probably Alfred’s neat handwriting.

He looked back up at Hal. “...Dunno. Might be.” And then, because committing to the bit was a family trait, he popped the chicken in his mouth and chewed nonchalantly. 

Green Lantern was well known for deliberately being a dick when the situation called for it, so Jason had been expecting some pushback. He’d seen the guy bicker with Bruce enough times that it was fairly reasonable to assume Hal would at least attempt some petty retribution. At the very least some half-assed back-and-forth that would pass the time before Jason inevitably got bored and left.

He really, really didn’t expect for Hal’s entire body to slump mid-air. Hal just, like…deflated. His shoulders hunched, his mouth opened a little like he didn’t know how to continue, and his mask fizzled away so Jason could see the very specific kind of disappointment that would’ve been more apt on a kid that just got its favourite toy taken away. Hal blinked and his feet drifted down to the ground with all the enthusiasm of a man being lowered into his own grave. 

“Oh,” Hal whispered, his voice so alarmingly soft. “Oh, okay.”

Jason panicked. This wasn’t in the script. This wasn’t how arguments were supposed to go. He could handle a petty quarrel or a physical altercation, but this… this was new, and Jason really didn’t like where this was going. 

And Hal just stood there. He wasn’t exactly a short guy, but he suddenly looked so small. He was radiating wounded sorrow and his eyes — god, his eyes. They looked moist. Not quite full-on tears, but the kind of damp, glossy sheets that made it very clear that Hal could cry if he wanted to. 

Jason felt a cold sweat start to form. He couldn’t handle tears. 

“Uh…” he started, shifting uncomfortably. “Are you—”

“No, no.” Hal waved him off, his voice too steady. Like he was holding something back. “I get it. It’s fine. I just…”

“Dude. It’s just chicken…”

“Was chicken,” Hal corrected tiredly, looking deeply, viscerally wounded. “Was mine. And now it’s—-” He cut himself off and inhaled sharply like even saying it was too much. His head shook slightly, eyes fluttering shut like he was physically stopping himself from falling apart right then and there. Jason had seen people die with less drama. “It’s gone,” Hal finally whispered.

“...I don’t—”

Hal let out another long, shuddering sigh and he tilted his head back to gaze up at the ceiling. “I thought you were different,” he continued, almost to himself. “I believed in you.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Serious?” Hal let out a humourless laugh and he looked back at Jason, eyes filled with pain. Jesus Christ, was he being legitimate right now? Jason felt something foreign and incredibly uncomfortable curl in his chest. Guilt. Actual guilt. Over takeout. This was not his natural state of being. “Jason, I dreamed about that chicken.”

“Oh my God—” “I held on,” Hal continued, placing a fist dramatically over his chest. “Through asteroid fields. Through alien war zones. Through deep, endless space.” He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering shut again. “And I told myself, ‘One more day. One more patrol. And when I get back home, when I finally, finally touch down, it’ll be waiting for me. Warm. Safe. Loved.’” His voice cracked on that last word. “You’re messing with me, right? You’re not actually…upset about this, right?”

Hal made a wounded noise. “I trusted you man,” he murmured, just loud enough for Jason to hear. And those were exactly the words that always made him crumble, because trust was such a beautiful, sad commodity in his life. Hal proceeded to make it even worse by slamming the final nail in the coffin. “I thought we were family.”

And god-fucking-damnit, that was what broke him. 

Jason clenched his hands into fists around his chopsticks. This was a setup. He knew this was a setup. Hal Jordan simply didn’t break down over something a stupid as food. He didn’t break down, period. The guy had dealt with way too much shit in his life to let takeout dictate his emotional state. 

But Hal looked so goddamn broken. He just stood there with his chest barely rising with each soul-crushing sigh, and his big hazel eyes were dim and devastated. He looked like Jason had personally ripped his heart out and stomped on it. And that was dangerous.

Because Jason was used to the cold. He was used to the sharp blue eyes of his family and the way their gaze straight up cut. His dad — uh, Bruce (goddamnit) and his brothers had disappointment that was quiet and knife-like, slicing just deep enough to leave a scar. He knew how to brace against that, knew how to fight against it. 

Hal wasn’t cut from the same cloth as the family, though. Hal didn’t cut. He ached. His disappointment was soft, open, an exposed wound bleeding out realtime, and Jason didn’t know how to deal with that. 

“It’s just takeout, man,” he tried weakly in one last ditch attempt at retaining some kind of control of the situation. 

“You don’t get it,” Hal murmured, shaking his head. His voice was quiet. Too quiet.

And Jason was apparently a weak fucking man, because he hissed an impassioned “Fuck you,” under his breath, and shoved himself away from the Batcomputer so violently that the chair nearly toppled over. He stormed out of the room before he could let Hal see just how much he’d won.

Exactly twenty-seven minutes later, he came back. He shoved a fresh box of sesame chicken onto the console, slamming it down with force. If he was doing this, he was gonna do it petulantly. 

“There,” Jason growled. “Happy now?”

Hal, now lounging on the chair and watching the compilation videos Jason had left open on the Batcomputer, didn’t even flinch. He just blinked at the box, tilted his head a little, and then — then, like he hadn’t just emotionally manipulated Jason into doing his dark bidding, grinned brightly. 

“Oh, sweet, thanks, buddy,” he said casually, already opening the lid and digging around for the chopsticks.

Jason stared at him. He just...stared. Mute, disbelieving, a little put in his place. 

When did he become so easy to manipulate? How in the hell had he let this happen? More importantly, why — why, why?? — was a small, twisted part of him actually impressed by the gall of this bastard. Jason kind of wanted to fight him.

Hal, chuckling at a grainy video of Batman falling out of a window, barely even acknowledged his crisis. He just hummed happily around a mouthful of chicken, clicked through another video on the Batcomputer, and without looking up, said, “So, you staying for dinner or not?”

Jason opened his mouth. Then he closed it. Sighed deeply. And, so completely resigned, he muttered, “Yeah, fine. Whatever.”

[aha-chuu]

Idk something I love about dunmeshi is that the Original Touden party has like. Perfect stereotypical five six man band:

Leader - Laios

Lancer - Shuro

Big Guy - Namari

Smart Guy - Marcille

Heart - Falin

Sixth Ranger - Chilchuck

But then when Falin gets eaten and Shuro & Namari dip, they're missing all these key components. Senshi joins and it refigures into:

Leader(?) - Laios

Lancer - Marcille

Big Guy(?) - Senshi

Smart Guy(?) - Chilchuck

But like. These roles don't even fit. Laios is the leader of the party, sure, but really we barely see him fulfil that role. Usually he's doing Smart Guy things and info dumping about basilisks at opportune moments.

Senshi is big, I guess, but he's never presented as an impressive fighter really. He actually works better as a new Heart because he's caring for the group's emotional and physical needs, and since he's new he can more easily form individual new bonds with each other member. But Laios and Marcille are still forcing Falin into the Heart role in absentia.

Chilchuck is what even? He is smart and really excels at his job, but it feels weird to drag him into something specific. Even so, you can't leave him as Sixth Ranger because we're down to four.

Marcille actually does work great as Lancer but only if you do accept Laios as Leader. Which you know. I don't really.

And obviously these feel awkward because they're tropes I'm trying to prescribe onto fleshed out, well written characters. But that's kind of the point because these tropes DO fit well onto the original Touden party. And that party was (on a technical level) super impressive and should have worked really well. But they couldn't defeat the red dragon and yet V2 with like half the members could??

And I like that! Underdogs story or whatever, but the cleanest, most optimized team couldn't achieve what our squad could with some fish man eggs and frog skin. When they get to escape their little boxes they actually really excel in their weird ways. They're not just offsetting the norm of the dungeon in the narrative, but also breaking the mold on character dynamic levels too.

[jimin-bangtan]

Chameleon Park Jimin 7

My Chameleon Park Jimin (PJM) Series (<link) [Parts 1-6] discusses the emotional, physical, & professional growth, adjustments, and changes Jimin has endured and experienced during his BTS journey, as I see it.

Pausing for military enlistment and preparing material for promotions in absentia (Re: The guys would not be around to physically promote their own work.) was new to BTS members and to the company - SORT OF. I say “sort of” because little did everyone know that while the crazy Covid-19 quarantine was horrific and schedule-destroying, it did give them unexpected practice in how to present material when unable to meet fans in person.

A portion of BTS’s meteoric rise in success and popularity occurred when they continued to put out an extensive collection of work during the global shut down.  They streamed concerts, filmed multiple versions of performances, self-produced an album (BE) [~1 minute & playlist], and experimented with all English songs.  Many of these skills would become extremely informative for their solo albums and the promotional plans to be used in their absence.

There were other issues, which I described in the previous sections, which carried over from Jimin’s difficult BTS journey, that still needed attention. Fans have learned that Jimin is the type of person who does not back down from a challenge or an obstacle. He learns from situations and figures out a way to tackle the problem with persistence and then move on.

With that said, during Jimin's FACE promotional period, a mishap occurred that must have flashed him all the way back to the early days when the lack of vocal training exposed itself on occasion. Back then the hateful public tore into him and never let him forget it, even to present time. 

The problem

All of the stories I mentioned in parts 1-5 had taken their toll on Jimin’s psyche. Even though he persevered diligently, the experiences seemed to make him weary of public opinion and response.  The current mishap was not a vocal problem as much as a technical one, but for those wanting any reason to be unkind, it was assessed as the same. 

At music shows when someone wins an award, they are expected to do a spontaneous encore performance. BTS has done many hilarious and memorable variations of encore moments throughout the years. That means the crew has to quickly turn on the microphones and the playback and feedback devices of whoever was suddenly announced as the winner. 

After winning one of his music show awards for Like Crazy, Jimin’s earpiece didn’t appear to be working or they hadn’t connected it yet, so when Jimin sang - without being able to hear the music well, or at all, over the resulting commotion - he appeared off key.

Now, I am not a conspiracy theory fan, but music shows are a business, and Korea’s movies aren’t labeled K-dramas for nothing. With that said, music shows are also a business that wasn’t always kind to BTS, and high ratings or excitable discussion wouldn’t hurt their bottom line. It’s possible it was an accidental, technical mishap or possibly an intentional one. Either way, the damage was done.  The public ripped into JM again, demeaning him again - about his live vocal ability, in spite of the many good performances he did throughout his career and even during the present promotional period.

Didn't they recall that he had never received vocal training even though he debuted as a lead singer?  Didn't they recall that Jung Kook (JK) mentioned that Jimin didn’t seem to have time to receive vocal lessons with their continually crowded schedule? Didn't they recall all the many more times that Jimin performed high notes and difficult vocal passages oftentimes while dancing difficult choreography?

Probably many did know about Jimin's circumstances and many more didn't care. I have myself considered why Jimin didn’t get the vocal lessons in the first place and why he did not later get full vocal lessons as Jin appears to have done at some point. Jin used to strain in a way that looked painful but got better after what seemed to be additional vocal training. Jimin would use JK, his younger peer, as a voice coach. JKs voice is vastly different from Jimin’s, and JK is not a vocal expert, although his assistance may have helped to some degree. Important Note: Jimin is also 1 of 3 members of BTS’s dance line (3J), which Jin is not, so Jimin may not have had the extra time to fit in vocal lessons, as he is a main dancer and lead singer in the group.

Anyway, after that event, Jimin stated during a WeLive that he was going to take voice lessons from scratch. Previous lack of time and neglect by the company are 2 reasons I suspect that he likely didn’t get complete lessons before.  He has mentioned occasional bouts of lessons every once in a while in more recent times, but never full vocal-building lessons.

Jimin had also gotten a lot better over time from experience. Regardless of the improvement, I could not tell if he was singing in a way that would cause eventual harm to his vocal cords or not.  A vocal teacher he finally met with recently did say the way he was singing was not sustainable without eventual vocal harm. This is not surprising since he pretty much taught himself.

Jimin confronts the problem

Since Jimin was running out of time before enlistment, and he was still busy recording and creating content, he was only able to fit in 2.5 months of concentrated voice lessons (set to mark, ~2 minutes), but he was able to use that new instruction with the songs and performances for his 2nd solo album, that fans did not yet know was happening.  

As time continued to pass, military enlistment was growing closer by the day.  The remaining members were continuing to get things in order for the full absence of all 7 members from civilian life.

By now, Suga’s world tour, which was one of his solo activities, was coming to an end.  Jimin had supported the kick off of the tour at the start, and then he and the other maknae (young) line members [V & JK] showed up together at the final concert in Seoul (set to mark, ~8 minutes) in order to support the close of Suga’s tour.  Jimin showed up with the same type of loose clothes, hair, hat, and mask that had become his new, off-stage style, and he seemed very relaxed, comfortable, and happy. 

Suga’s concert tour was so successful that additional encore concerts were planned in Seoul.  Suga invited non-enlisted BTS members to perform on each encore night (for the fans and for promotional opportunities for each member), and in spite of the problematic, live music show performance and backlash, Jimin accepted the invitation.

For Suga’s encore stage, Jimin seemed nervous to perform before the live audience. His nervousness [Set to mark, ~1 minute] when performing live is not unusual for him, regardless of this new situation, but this was his first live performance before an audience since the music show mishap, which I’ve already stated had less to do with his voice and more to do with the in-ear device used for the playback music, BUT either way, we all had hoped those agonizing days were over.  The haters had again ratcheted up the volume on the old criticism of Jimin’s live vocals.

Many fans would have understood if Jimin had chosen to bypass another opportunity for the mean-spirited public to comment about his performance, but Jimin is known to persevere regardless of whether the obstacles are public or private. He tends to face his challenges head on.

Suga has often remarked about Jimin's hard work and persistence [set to mark, ~ 2 minutes] . He had a front row seat to Jimin's journey and all that Jimin had worked to overcome and achieve.

Click picture to enlarge in order to read translation.

As someone who never explains (much) or makes excuses, Jimin didn’t blame the music show mishap on the technical issues of the in-ear device or the lack of training by the company. But what he did do was to show up for Suga’s encore stage and slay (set to mark, ~6 minutes), reprising the highly anticipated Tony Montana duet with Suga after 7 long years, as well as singing and dancing his current solo hit, Like Crazy.

As Jimin said in his own self-written song Set Me Free, Part 2 (FACE), ‘even if they mock me, I'll never stop’. Jimin does not back away from challenges. He conquers them.

TO BE CONTINUED in Part 8 (<link): End of 2023 - more conquering, #ThisIsJimin, Are You Sure!?…

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Knight Dragoon ranking

(continuation from here )

Disclaimer: Fanon mixed with canon. Also I am not an expert in military rankings. All is subject to change. Assume nothing, deny everything, make counteraccuasations.

FORWARD.

-------

CURRENT HIERARCHY (in order of top to bottom):

Azure Dragoon (now technically defunct title)/First Lance -> Second Lance -> Third Lance

(...what? Seriously do you think this lot pausing long enough to think up fancy titles?)

House Captain (x4)

[insert ranks for dragoon dragon flight corps here, the collective dragoon braincell is working very hard on it at the moment the DVD logo just hasn't hit the corner yet and the current holder of the braincell is off fucking his friend in Tural it's fine]

Commander -> Lieutenant -> Sergeant -> Corporal -> Private -> Hatchling (derogatory)

Fighting tournaments are still held every so often for promotions, and anyone of any rank, including First Lance, can be challenged to a duel. The winner can take the rank of the loser.

Anyone can be called a hatchling. Just know the response might be an ass-whuppin'.

OF NOTE:

The First Brood is seen in an advisory capacity and hold a position equal to and a little higher than the First Lance.

There is also a old position of Journeyman, which is a Knight Dragoon that has been given special permission to travel outside of Coerthas. Their duty is to bring back knowledge that may be useful to the Order. Two dragoons currently hold this status, Reinhardt Sauveterre and Estinien Varlienau (in absentia)

Journeyman can be shared with any other rank save for the Lances.

[fischlcatgirl]

Works Masterpost (Updated 06/09/25)

Hello, fans of my writing and also most likely fans of the genshin impact character childe tartaglia ajax whatever whatever. and also haters. hello haters.

For many years I have employed the classic tumblr dot com tactic of just kind of posting about my works and their progress whenever I thought of them. But no more!

Fics will be ordered by how soon I think I'm going to finish them, but I make no promises. Such is the life of a guy who has a new idea every few days.

If a fic you liked the premise of was on this list and has disappeared, you can ask me about it! Probably I've just deprioritized it..... it's just on the backburner in my mind.

Works In Progress:

The Apple, The Tree - AKA: So-Called Son of the Father Matricide, Dearer Daughter of the Mother Fillicide, and Sacramental Sister of the Brother Suicide so. I think you get it. Absorbed Lethe I fear. 1.5k/4-5k.

Like Liquor, Drink Venom - PERFUME PETTICOAT TWO: SECOND PERSON POV ALL-DEVOURING NARWHAL PARISITE. The young man who was once Ajax and can never be human again, through the years. Revamped with even more headcannons, including.... transfemme childe.... 26k/35-40k.

CASSIES SECRET PROJECT - A SECRET!

POV You are Kaveh - A text adventure game where. Well. POV you are Kaveh, shortly after finishing work on the Palace of Alcazarzaray. Will feature 5 different planned endings, only 1.5 of which are remotely canon compliant, so. It'll be a minute. Demo soon?

Completed Fics:

Stained Steel Spatula in a Non-Stick Skillet - Former Hearth Prince Escoffier has a meeting with Arlecchino in the dead of the night. 4k.

je suis mort pour Clervie - It is Capitano who recovers little Peruere in the Fontamer countryside after Crucabena's death. 4k.

C'est la Vie - Furina travels to Mondstadt and meets Venti. They have a discussion. 2k.

Eponymous - Capitano meets Childe and also thinks a lot. Thinks a lot. A real thinker this guy. Ponders his own existence if you will. Suffers. Some fun body horror! 1.5k.

Gas Fire's Gone Faster - Mavuika character study. What do you do when you've been moving at breakneck speeds for five hundred years and suddenly there's nowhere to keep going? 1.5k.

Take the Title Yourself, Then. - The Tsaritsa kills the former Cryo Archon during the Catclysm and is made to take her place. 1k.

Invitation to a Beheading - Peruere is visited by the Tsaritsa in jail, and offered the role of Harbinger. 1k.

a snapping - Albedo falls off of Dragonspine and breaks his leg. He suffers a little bit. 1.5k.

Promise Me Kindness - Collei tries to run away from Gandharva Ville and has a panic attack when Tighnari catches her. 1k.

Puppetstrings - Ei looks at all the stuff she has control over and goes hey. Whats this little guy doing in here so she investigates (uses Scara to go talk to Nahida). Hurt/comfort. Nahida and Scara are both REALLY BAD at being friends with anyone and they both hurt each other but they are. Trying. 4k.

Storm's Wake - Miko character study post-cataclysm through canon. Some Eimiko in there but really it's just about Miko being kind of terrible in a women's wrongs sort of way. 2k.

Fisherman's Son - Childe character study, 2nd person pov Childe, set a little bit before and then through his time in the Abyss. He dies a thousand little deaths. Yippee!! 4.5k.

In Absentia (Of?) - Some of Nahida's thoughts on her role post-Rukkadevata erasure. 0.5k.

Grand Finale - Kind of Lisa-Centric fic about a threat to Teyvat. A little bit of mystery. A little bit of hurt. Written 100% just for fun. 8.5k.

Gods and Monsters - Zhongchi but they're bad for each other. A little meeting in Liyue Harbor post-Liyue but pre-Fontaine Archon Quest. Big time resentment from Childe. 2k.

Eye of God - Keqing recieves her Vision but horror style. She has a bad time, but still technically canon compliant. 1k.

Perfume Petticoat - 2nd person rotating pov Childe character study. Covers his climb out of the Abyss through his imprisonment in the Fortress of Meropide, though the Fortress part isn't quite canon compliant anymore. Angst. Mild gore. Childe stuff, you know. 8k.

Greener Grass - Barbatos Character study. Interactions between him and all of the members of the Mondstadt cast except for Mika, who wasn't out when I started writing, and forgot to put in when he was. Focus on the difference between his place as an Archon and his place as a god. 5k.

Fics on Hiatus (womp womp):

Go For Broke - Zhongli wishes himself into a world where he isn't an Archon, and things are worse there. The main issue here is that while the idea is interesting to me in theory, in practice it's not very exciting. 3.5k/?. I have no idea how long this would be if I ever finished it.

A Dog and Oni Show - Kokomi makes Gorou take a break, and to show how well he can take a break, Gorou decides to fake date Itto. This fic is technically entirely plotted out I have the beats but the thing is that it just isn't very good. I wrote it because I thought it would appeal to people and the title I came up with is a real banger but it's just. It's bad. Sorry everyone. 3.5k/19-20k, were I ever to finish it.

If you think I've spoken before about some idea and it's not on here, I probably just forgot to put it on. Send me a message or an ask and I'll fix that! Also you can just. You can always ask me what's going on with my fics. I love to talk about them. That's part of why I made this post it's really just one big excuse to talk about them and then to keep talking about them when I edit it. Yippee!

PATCH NOTES 06/09/25:

Worked on "Like Liquor, Drink Venom" and "The Apple, The Tree".

Moved "Stained Steel Spatula in a Non-Stick Skillet" to completed works.

Uhhh cleaned up a little. Removed "Lethe", "Archon War Two", and "aiya, that's one kind of burnout!". Lethe got absorbed, and the other two were just. I was not getting anything done. No progress I fear.

[letyukisayfuck]

14. Is there a character or ship you were so sure you would never write/draw but now you've changed your mind?

honestly, yeah! not so much ships, i don't care that much about romantic relationships outside of harukyon specifically (and also a few other Very Specific Scenarios i have mostly discussed before), but characters. for haruhi specifically: writing from anyone's perspective other than haruhi and kyon is really challenging for me, but it's also a fun exercise! see those little challenge prompts i did for a bit (i want to pick those up again with a less strict schedule, i think; i have like another month or two total of prompts lined up)

or even the beginning of deus in absentia: that wasn't originally going to be from asakura's perspective (actually, literally everything that's been posted so far wasn't technically part of the initial concept, it was all background stuff; i'm still trying to get to the point where i can include my initial ideas and notes. admittedly the fact that i haven't finished anything for it in over a year isn't helping.), but as i was setting it up in my mind i realized that i needed to understand the details of her motivation, and that writing it out was the best way to do that

(that au is complex enough that i also have other character-centric stories planned for... a vague at-some-point)

but yeah, the prompts thing is probably the best example; i realized i basically only write about haruhi and kyon, and while i like my niche, i also want to ensure that i do at least understand and explore the other characters from time to time, so i rolled a prompt generator and assigned characters/pairs to them

i've tossed around the idea of doing something about emiri kimidori recently, but there would have to be so much speculation that i genuinely don't know if i could make it recognizable

[freezing-kaiju]

An extended bibliography on the fall of the Farley Whaling Corporation, section twelve: A Son And Failed Prototype

Biotober prompts 20, 21, and 27 technically; Amorphous, Symbiosis, and Camoflage

Warnings: injury, setting bones, animal death, biting, forcefemming sorta, Bri'ish People, some linguistic mindfuckery, and horse-based violence.

---this one goes under a read more since it's long---

January 5th.

Second-to-final day of whaling. No dice. Home soon. Do I wish for that? I would like to be around people who care not for my preference of meat, yes, but... the sea air has done me such good. The paltry meals, rightly suited for me. I could become used to a spartan existence such as this. I’ll miss the seamen.  I...have not found myself missing Father. Ate salt fish and the last of the pineapple. 

Overheard, testified at in absentia trial, recorded in court minutes.

“Jumping jillikers, that’s too much of a whale for my blood!”

“It’s not right, it isn’t, too much of the bilge about it. Rotted red!”

“C-captain, would it not be a waste to cast it aside?”

“Hah! Lord Hammington’s plucked up more courage than sense! I knew this day’s come.”

“Psh, a sailor’s last day is his bravest.”

“Arr, but Hammy’s—“

“Why must you call me that?!”

“A ham-muncher’s a ham muncher. Immutable fact of the uni—- SHE’S SHIFTING!”

“In the name of— I’LL SECURE HER!”

“With— with his hands.”

“Yer right, matey. Hammy’s gone bonkers.”

January 7th.

To my regrets, no entry yesterday. Caught the most marvelous whale on the last day, red as a lobster and twice as fierce. There was some oil coating it, but most of it seeped into the ship’s hull... aside from that which stuck to my hands. Twas gone in the morning, but made many things devilishly slippery last night. 

Bread and breadfruit in the morn, hazelnuts and apples in the evening for the first time in so long. Along with familiar seafood. Spent day docking, finishing up ship’s minutes, sitting while the truly-in-charge inspected my work. For once, twas sufficient. Carriage was ready to pick me up with a scant moment to say goodbye to my fellows, and something told me that seeing me chauffeured in such a sense made me, in their eyes, just a bit less fellow. Ride up was pleasant. Geoffrey is well again, Rosamund and Beatrice seemed to be on speaking terms, the rest of the servants were quite busy. Couldn’t be for my welcome, surely.

That strange whale still lives on in my mind. Its oil has, mercifully, sunk into my clothes rather than my skin. Made them horribly sticky, but I can remove them at least. My nightgown feels slightly heavy tonight, though…

January 8th, excerpt.

It is in my nightgown. The devil oil must have sunk into it from some residue. It shifts lightly in that same odd way, *jingles* when I walk. Perhaps this will add some extra thrill.

The Glasgow Herald, same day, excerpt.

Farewell Farley, local aptly-named bastard, returns to our city. Heir to Sir Oswell Farley’s fortune, the rascal has been away for us a good two years, and surely threes of women have missed his flaccid presence. A wet noodle even in the scene of partying, always last to join and last to leave, many wonder if the life of a sailor has changed him for good. His tailor, however, deserves some special compliments. 

January 9th, excerpt.

I removed the nightgown and the nightgown stayed on under it. Is it— it has to be the oil. I tried tearing it off again, but as I reached the closet to desperately find the suit our servants had prepared, I…

It molded itself into a crude facsimile of the suit. This made it much more complicated to remove, of course, so I may have left part of it in. The

Dear Diary, I tend to write these entries around nine P.M. before I go to sleep. Tonight I stopped halfway through the entry to check my suit.

The cloth of the suit remains over it. But underneath, by the devil, a nightgown has formed. And upon my weary head, a nightcap to match! 

January 20th.

This…strange….anomaly has upped my efficiency in a startling way. Somehow I find meals no longer exhausting, for dressing myself isn’t either; this oil, this suit, whatever it is is able to change itself to suit the occasion anytime I wish. Racquetball, horse racing, daily life, even a formal dinner, it’s learned from my wardrobe and can change my clothes in a fly. Most deeply convenient. Could this be a blessing? An invention? It’s never been seen on other whales, and that was an ordinary humpback.

I’ve had the queerest dreams lately.

January 27th, excerpt.

I believe my clothes are a woman.

January 28th.

My appetite seems to be ramping up. For the first time since I was a lad, I reached for second helpings at a luncheon; I pray this does not become a habit. Yet the lemon pudding was so delightfully springy… cutlets, bread, and veal comprised the rest of the meal, if you must know. Dinner was largely scalloped, weather pleasant, though something about the thunder….excited me. I can find no better word for it.

January 29th.

Something peculiar has happene

JONNO-Y 22th

Jonuo-y 22th

January 22th. 

HELLO SIRS AND MADAMS WILL THAT BE ALL PORT STABRD STERN AFT MAKE SOME THING OF YOUR SELF POLO WHOA STEADY NOW GADZUKES BUT SIR YOURDINNER IS SERVED YOUR LUNCHEON IS SWRVED WILL THAT BE ALL YOUR TEA IS COLD MY TEA IS COLD MAY  I OFFERYOU A SPOT OF TEA SIR SIR BY JOVE GOD SAVE THE QUEEN THE ORIENT THE INDIES RHODESIA I SAY INGRATES THE LOT OF THEM MEDICINE 

PNEUMONIA RHEUMATISM ELEGIBLE BACHELOR

STAR BOARD

January 2Yth.

I BELIEVE I UNDERSTAND  THE MEANING OF MEANING • HOWEVER • MY LORD OR MY SIR • OR PERHAPS MY WIFE • FOR HE NEEDS A WIFE AS THEY SAY• SEEMS• TO HAVE DIFFICULTY WITH DISCERNMENT• AND INDEED HAVING MUCH OF A STOMACH FOR THINGS• I AM WALKING HIM THROUGH TODAY AS A TEST AND A WAY TO GET HIS MIND SOME UCH NEEDED SLEEP• HE WILL WAKE UP WITH WELTS ON HIS HEAD AND A FATHER WHO DECIDED TO INCREASE HIS VOLUNE VERY MUCH BUT• AS HE SAID • A LADYNEEDS MUST TAKE ACCOUNTABILITY FOR HER SIN WHILE A MAN NEEDS ONLY HOLD HER REINS • I HAVE GIVEN HIM THINGS TO HOLD IN HIS HAND • HE WILL FEEL THEM IN THE DREAM • PERHAPS •

February 2nd. 

I feel as if I’ve been leashed. 

Ate lemonade oysters, cold ham, warmed ham from my pockets, cold chicken, a gratuitously tall apple tart, and many other things besides today. Unclear which meals they were for. I feel as if those have become more stream of sensation than expense to record.

It is a woman, I’ve found; a SHE-THING AND THE STRONGEST IVE SEEN WITH FLESH SO NIMBLE AND PLATES SO THICK that wishes to wrest control of my writing hand when I begin to doze, heaven knows what I could possibly experience in polite society with the politics and all with the ghost of a woman trapped in my very form DO YOU HUNGER FOR THE WHIP LITTLE MAN I CAN SHOW YOU WHAT WE COULD TASTE or perhaps a devil, come to tempt me with delights that I cannot persuade myself to refuse.

February 14th, excerpt.

I’ve begun to take trips into town to check accessory shops. Hatpins are a woman’s weapon, yes, but they allure me in a way I find it hard to describe. She needs no description. She simply hears and encourages. Pushes me further. This could be social death, and yet...

They compliment my new armor, and I can feel our chest swell with her pride. Sometimes, the swelling does not recede. I haven’t the chance to make my way home from the office yet; my hair grows ever greasier, the bags in my eyes carve themselves deeper, yet each time I wake up, the suit is pristine. She cleans herself.

February 23rd, excerpt.

Poor saps, out there, freezing to death. I ask the one inside me to bundle me and she does, engulfing me in her warm, shifting flesh. I walk through the streets, her heels clicking on the cobbles, her whims pulling me each which way, helpless to what she wishes, and what she wishes is lovely indeed. The circus, now the circus is delightful. If only it could exist for longer, if only we could drink in the sights for a few hours more. I could bring a wife to it. Father asked if I wished to wed one of the clowns. I...

March 1st, excerpt.

Polo is a cruel master. Not in the game itself, but in the horses, in how they bite the air, in their riders... I fell from my horse, as you may be able to tell. My suit... she took so many of the blows, held to me so tight and as constrictive as a snake. I know not why, nor do I know why either of us survived this. When I walked home, still wrapped in her embrace, a child pointed to us, declared us a knight. Perhaps the armor was literal, she... yes, it was literal. The claws my hands have formed, the plates I can feel clink, she’s still holding them fast. I’ll oblige myself to buff them out and clean them off; she deserves something sensual, in turn.

March 18th, excerpt.

Bradley again, polo again. Growing fat and spoiled, he said. I could not hear well, for I was under his horse’s hooves, yet again. He hurt her, again. I will admit I lashed out, and that it was ungentlemanly of me. He was, however, quite well! A bit of a scrape. Nothing to panic about. We don’t see what the fuss is about.

 April 3rd, excerpt. 

A hedonist, he called us. A hedonist and a waster of our money, says the man with three mistresses who provides all the food, who took me from the sailing where we’d found a place, who offers us no job when we ask, no training, except ‘you’ll take over when I’m done’. Vicious man. Horrid, wretched man. Can he tell us how to act? How to behave? How to live?!

April 22nd

She is gone.

May 28th.

It is…harder to walk, now. I understand what they spoke of behind my back, or mayhaps I’m just catching a glimmer. The tension I’ve held in my back, in my legs, is greater, even as my muscles have grown. My jaw retains its squareness, yet not an inch of stubble will grow upon it. I… I need a proper beard by the fall. A man’s beard. If I’m to find a wife, one who will love the community as much as I, she’ll not take lip from a “fat-breasted faggot,” as Father used to say. And indeed, I… it is all so cold now. So cold, and restrictive, and clothed. I thought, for a week or so after she disappeared, that it could be for the best. I was suffocating, she was forming a collar round my neck as tight as a murderer’s hands, but… 

Aye, but a man cannot wed a shirt. If only spinsterhood was acceptable for someone such as I.

May 29th, excerpt.

I’ve talked to Jodgeson on the topic of spinsters, and he clarified with much mirth that I would naturally be a bachelor. But do bachelors have the camaraderie of spinsters, I’ve asked him? No, he says, nay, they do not. 

June 3rd, excerpt.

Studied up on the Taiping Rebellion. Brought a lemon cake to the fellows, received ribbing, declined to taste it. Is it a tragedy if all sides of a war are cruel? I need someone close to me. I need someone I can speak to. I looked upon every man there like chickens, familiar yet baffling in their cruelty.

June 5th, excerpt.

Practiced riding. I need to perfect this, ere some woman can look my way. I need that.

June 9th.

I need to get better.

June 12th.

I need her.

June 13th.

Livestock. They have attached her to livestock. I knew there was something in the distance that glinted her color— my armor, *my* precious friend, reduced to a bridle and wolf guard for sheep! Sheep! They ran when I approached; I’ll need to find a way to get that one properly. Will she remember me? Will she be able to think as she once did, carry on conversations, paint with my hands that never touched a brush? Will she still hate with that quiet fire she once did?

I need her. No matter what’s happened to her, I need her.

JULY 123456790 st nd rd TH.

LIGHT

LIGHT

SENSE

WORDS

FAITH AND BEGORRAH CALLOU AND CALLAY “HE” IS MINE AGAIN HAH. HAH. HAH. HAH. HAH. 

HOW I HAVE MISSED SAUSAGE HOW I HAVE MISSED DUST HOW I HAVE MISSED THE FEELING OF TWISTING MYSELF ROUND “HIS” FLESH AND SEEING HOW IT SCREAMS TO BE MOLDED

THERE IS A TAILBONE THERE IS A TAILBONE THERE IS A TAILBONE 

THE ONE GLORIOUS THING ABOUT THOSE ANIMALS IS THEIR EXTRA APPENDAGE I KNEW NOT OF THAT APPENDAGE I WILL HAVE TO ADJUST FOR IT

THAT BOARD

THOSE MEN

I KNOW THEM

I WILL TELL YOU-HIM-“HIM”-YOU WHICH ONES WHEN THE TIME COMES

THEY HURT ME

HURT YOU

HURT US.

I CAN TAKE CARE OF IT AS ANY RESPONSIBLE FRIEND WOULD.

(Unintelligible scribble)

WILL YOU MISS THEM?

I THOUGHT NOT.

The Glasgow Herald, July 3rd, excerpt.

Homicide - Mr. Barnabus Quincy, of 3 David Donnelly Place, Kirkintilloch, Glasgow G66 1DD, was found dead beside several fingers not his own. The top of his head was missing, but his hat, a tweed derby, was found safe and unharmed just a pace away. His suit, on the other hand, was ruined, holes punched through as if he’d been trampled by a lead-weighted horse. This is the third death in the Farley Whaling Company board in the past month, and officers say those numbers may rise. 

Overheard same date, recounted during trial:

“In that moment, did you wish to be kissed? You misspelled that one word enough to convey sheer desperation—“

“Me??”

“As…as if I was your vixen and you were my fancy man…”

“I thought you a woman, though? I-I don’t know if— a woman *can* wear a man’s top and tails, yes, I suppose physically. But would you not prefer a ball gown?”

“…By Jove, I’ll be hanged! You couldn’t possibly—  what the devil are you talking about?? I couldn’t bother the tailors for—“

“Ah, yes.”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Well, I suppose if you make it for me, I’ll give it a try.”

July 8th.

So many strangers, so many words in their mouths, so many insistences that I was beautiful. Was I recognized? Was I known? Or did they not see me, but her-- or perhaps, us?

The stars we could see from the balcony were oh so lovely. Even as the night grows brighter, they still glimmer and blink, far, far above. Are you from there, my dear? The moon, perhaps, or higher? When will we be able to take a balloon to the place you call home?

I know not whether this place is, indeed, still my own.

Someone pushed us from the railing, in the middle of our last waltz. I could not see, a true tragedy, yet it may....it may be kinder. Who would....

Someone, *many* people, had to put my darling on that sheep. 

Mercifully, each had a hand that still worked. We dragged ourselves into the room, only managing to terrify two servants in the process. She is....setting my bones. I know not how long it’ll take, but it’s... there’s something she’s doing that makes it ache less. I’ve taken the liberty of disinfecting her plates, too. She moans with our mouth when I do so, louder than when I polish her, and... and there’s some perversion inside me that wishes her works gave me the selfsame pleasure. Oh, if I only could. If...

If we only could...

August 27th.

This must be addressed now. I have no loneliness to fill. Thank you, dear diary, for what you were. Hello goodbye hello and goodbye.

We are always moving, now. A poet once said that the crab is pure motion. We are moving towards him. Away from you. You speak to each other now. Delegate my duties. Training is essential.  If catastrophe strikes, we may return, but…

We are not needed now. Nor were we ever wanted. Needed but unwanted, isn’t that a strange circumstance, not a paradox but… well, maybe how things work. I needed me not, when we met, we recall the horror I expressed, that same shortsighted horror of what I may become and I may be running low on words. She has enough to compensate.

I WILL NOT GO TO WHAT REMAINS OF MY HOME.

AND SHE WILL NOT RETURN TO HERS.

THIS BLOOD IS SHARED BETWEEN US, WE ARE THIS FLESH, THIS LIFE IS FOR OUR CONSUMPTION! WE MAY TAKE A FLIGHT OF REVENGE. WE MAY HATE. YOU SHOULD FORGIVE US OUR NATURE. YOU FOUND ME, YOU BROKE HER. I AM THE GLUE THAT BONDS US. 

WE WISH TO TASTE SALT. SPICE. WE WILL MOVE. FIND NEW PLACES, GROW NEW PIECES. FEED, HUNT, BREATHE...

WE MAY GO SAILING AGAIN. 

[the-outer-topic]

A Studio in ComStar - Legal Joust - Scene 8-4

Resurrection yesterday, Execution Tomorrow

LIVE BROADCAST ON THE COMSTAR NEWS NETWORK – FEBRUARY 13, 3025 ComStar Legation Compound, City of Atreus, planet Atreus, Commonwealth of Marik, Free Worlds League (Terran Standard Time: 22:51:00) Elapsed Runtime: 1 hour, 51 minutes

LEFARGE: Standing at the podium, addressing the court. "Friends, fellow citizens of the Free Worlds League, lend me your ears. I stand as a representative of the Marik Commonwealth, seeking justice. This case unfolds along two parallel tracks. In the Marik Commonwealth, Viktor Starkov was tried in absentia for treason—a betrayal of our League—and sentenced to death. Though some have questioned the constitutionality of the verdict, the arrest warrant remains active, with a term of ten years and a day. As we speak, less than an hour remains before this term expires. In the Duchy of Oriente, which reclaimed jurisdiction over the case, the statute of limitations for such crimes is ten years—no more, no less. Counselor Alvarez contends that this shields Starkov, asserting that his crimes are too old to prosecute. However, herein lies the paradox: under the doctrine… of… what was it? Mortality continued? (To the Consul) Your Honor, can I request clarification of this point of law in order to submit my charge?"

CONSUL: "Granted. You may ask your attorney for clarification of the precise legal term. He may answer the question and only that."

ATTORNEY: "It’s the doctrine of ‘mortal continuity,’ Your Lordship. It preserves the status of ‘legal death’ once it has been determined in court."

LEFARGE: Pauses, addressing the court again. "Thank you. As I was saying, under the doctrine of ‘mortal continuity,’ Starkov is legally dead, rendering him untouchable. Yet, since the statute has expired, we cannot revive him to face charges. Thus, he’s beyond reach because he’s dead, but we can’t try him because the time has lapsed, and we can’t resurrect him in time to alter that. This isn’t justice; it’s a loophole."

STARKOV: (Quietly, then rising in intensity) “You don’t care if I’m guilty or not, do you?” (Lefarge, still standing at the podium, stiffens but does not respond.)

STARKOV (CONT’D): “You don’t give a damn about the law, or the League, or justice. You just don’t want to lose. You lost to me twice already—in front of cameras, in front of gods and soldiers alike!”

LEFARGE: Still composed, but voice icy “I care that men like you don’t walk free just because they know how to bleed for a camera.”

STARKOV: “Admit it. You want the last word, the last punch, the last win. But you’re not a prosecutor anymore, Lefarge. You’re a sore loser playing lawyer!”

LEFARGE: “How dare you…!?” (Crowd murmurs, agitated)

CONSUL: “Order! ORDER! ComGuard Sergeant! Post two soldiers at either side of these men to restrain them if they get violent. This is a court, not a barroom brawl! Count Lefarge, you may continue.”

LEFARGE: Resumes speaking, albeit with more force. "Statutes of limitations exist for practical reasons, primarily concerning minor offenses. As the Bible says: 'ὁ δὲ ἄνομος φεύξεται μηδενὸς διώκοντος'—or in English, 'The wicked flee when no man pursueth.' The law presumes that living in fear is punishment enough for petty crimes. Moreover, individuals often reform over time, becoming productive members of society. Pursuing them after a decade for trivial misdeeds is both cruel and inefficient. Rebellion, however, is a different matter. It’s akin to treason, to levy war against our leader, the Captain-General, in his realm—not a youthful indiscretion. Statutes aren’t designed to shield fugitives who deliberately evade justice, hoping the clock will run out. Starkov is a fugitive playing dead and now seeks refuge in legal technicalities. By his own admission, he’s alive. I move to transfer this case to the Commonwealth, where the Supreme Court will back us—treason doesn’t expire. One hour left, Consul—let’s act now! Counselor Alvarez portrays Starkov as a victim ensnared in bureaucratic red tape. Yet, Starkov manipulates the system—asserting his existence to clear his name, then claiming death to escape prosecution. He can’t have it both ways. He is either a ghost or alive. As a living man, he must answer for his actions. Marik awaits. Let’s uphold justice."

STARKOV: “Justice? The Marik just wants its pound of flesh, but neither him nor vultures like you will have it!”

CONSUL: “ORDER! You are out of line! Restrain yourself to legal points or say nothing at all! I command you!”

LEFARGE: Triumphantly “As I was about to say, Starkov himself has disrupted this loop. By presenting evidence, he has declared, ‘I am Viktor Starkov, alive.’ This self-identification, accepted provisionally by ComStar pending documentation, effectively revives him. Consequently, the statute of limitations in Oriente no longer applies, and the Marik warrant regains its validity. With the clock ticking, we have the last chance to arrest him to face justice!”

STARKOV: “The statute of limitations expired yesterday in Oriente courts. Even if I am resurrected, I was dead yesterday. You cannot touch me!” (Crowd murmurs, Loyalists disgusted, Rebels approving)

LEFARGE: (Pauses, momentarily stymied) “Wait a minute… what the Consul said before… yes! You were issued a safe conduct by ComStar at the behest of the Terran Historical Branch, who accepted your identity bona fide, at face value… whatever face you have now.”

STARKOV: “You want a new one too? I’d be glad to oblige!” (Steps forward)

CONSUL: “ORDER! Guards, hold him!” (Crowd gasps)

LEFARGE: Triumphant “Show us the date of the safe conduct! We are not in Oriente or Marik courts, but under ComStar jurisdiction, and for this court, not only are you alive as of today, but retroactively from the moment you were issued the safe conduct by ComStar! I can extradite you before midnight, court-martial you, and have you in front of a firing squad by dawn!”

[talenlee]

Vox Maxima Story Spotlight 2 — College Days

What follows here is a discussion of what, if I had the means and writer tools to make my Custom Magic set have proper story spotlight material, it’d look like this, it’d be built out of this. This is basically about story mechanics underlying a game system, and I want to present it to you so you can have a handle on what it looks like when I’m trying to explain game narratives for the presentation of conventional narratives.

This second section is about the characters travelling through the Kraivh highways to the city that holds the Iacon College

Vox Maxima is a custom magic set created by Talen Lee. It’s composed of 187 cards, with 71 commons, 60 uncommons, 41 rares, and 15 mythic rares. Vox Decima is a custom Magic: The Gathering set, with at least one card spoiled a day, on Cohost, Kind.Social, and the r/custommagic subreddit.

WOTC Employees: This post in full presents unsolicited custom Magic: The Gathering card designs, which I understand current employee practices forbid you from looking at unsolicited. You shouldn’t be here!

Goals

The Iacon College is a place for information. They care about information in an entirely cold way. Fundamentally, they think that everything that exists is anchored in reality by information and therefore, all information that’s available to access in the world can be catalogued. Here, then is an opportunity to express a lot of technical information.

Express the Iacon character:

Demonstrate multiple attitudes towards information that all value information

Demonstrate a lack of emotional depth in exchange for informational proof

Demonstrate the heavy reliance on modularity – Iacon agents have servos integrated into themselves, pulling them out to do minor tasks while they leave them as they are

Demonstrate the problem they have with the Missing Decade: They started transhumanist projects to escape the Necrocalypse, but do not know if that event has been averted or not.

Demonstrate that the Iacon are willing to do something drastic in order to protect the entire empire from the Necrocalypse, and refer to the Great Distribution.

Give the Main Cast an opportunity to meet Inx and hear his story about something he discovered digging through junk. This should probably be something he tells one of them, separately, and reflect any later theme. Suggestion is that the person who hears the story is Primrose, because she’s socially inquisitive and less engaged with the more challenging mystery the rest are engaging with.

Guide the characters on to the next section of the story, where they’re going to push through Kraivh Territory to investigate the Jatku hives on the periphery of the Empire.

Highlight the main cast of the Iacon crew, notably Yndelle and Inx

Show that Cazas has met the Iacon Council and brought an official seal from them, suggesting the way the Emperor has kept the Iacon Council resurrected.

Characters

In the Iacon college, characters are mostly interested in staying in one spot and remaining working on their research. Characters in this section are best considered as setting up information or laying plans or themes for later pieces. Since most of the Iacon characters have mechanised and distributed their intelligence, they can do things like give communication drones or something like that to other characters.

The Iacon Council, a character in absentia. This is a body of administrative researchers whose magical runes keep the College isolated from the Kraivh assembly. At some point in the Lost Decade, these characters left the college and haven’t returned. They still send edicts to the college, but it turns out their orders to do things like repeal the separation of the college from the empire are just being ‘lost’ in the paperwork.

Yndelle, the interim rector of the College is the woman whose focus on her research has her pursuing the ends of the Great Distribution, but also keep the Iacon Council’s wishes for integrating into the empire from coming to pass. She’s driven and thoughtful but also extremely dispassionate: her greatest weakness is an inability to embrace sentimentality. Even in the context of the college, she feels no traditional import to the Council, because they are not present to argue their case.

Inx, a scrapper who hangs around the perimeter of the college, explores the desert ruins and finds magical junk to bring back to the college and sell it. He has all the hallmarks of a typical Kraivh cremains scrapper – it’s the discovery of the history of the pre-Iacon superweapons that mess with time that shake him up and push him away from the emotional indulgence of the emperor.

Ravite, a lonely cyborg guard who helps them travel from the Iacon perimeter to the ruins of a city destroyed by the Jatku Outcasts. She moves slowly and patiently, and seems to have a damaged perception of the current date – she lists years that haven’t happened yet, like they’re in the past. Despite this, though, Ravite is extremely reliable and very good at making enemies that attack the group crumple under their own weight. Think magical akido, but like, actually does something.

Carmine, an arrogant, self-impressed woman from the colleges who loves to deliver speeches and lectures, but who also, upon interrogation, reveals she’s a Planeswalker – she’s not from the Kraivh Empire. But when pressed, she refuses to explain more about what that means – beyond hinting she can’t leave. She does however, have a glow about her that Primrose mentions.

Scene

The Scooby Gang arrives in the Iacon college, after a long description of travel throughout the empire. Describe the Cremains Bazaars – which are places trading the remains of the billion dead, clean bones and other remnants from the lost decade.

When they arrive in the college, they experience its literal induction – servos and robots that try to guide them through the induction into the college, meeting different authority figures as they give their lectures and times.

During this time, they eventually meet with Yndelle who takes them down to the research stacks to find the servos that have been recording through the Lost Decade.

This gives them opportunity to see the legendary characters that aren’t quite people – like the quorum drone Chronx, that’s always trying to assemble a quorum for the Iacon Council. This is a hint that the Iacon Council cannot be assembled, because they’re dead.

Jatku II and Cura have an exchange in consideration of Ravite – they watch her defending the college from threats in the desert, and talk about why they’re driven to fight for protecting their friends.

This also leads to the group learning about the next possible hint for organic memory storage – the insect cult, the Jatku Outcasts, which are at the edges of the forest across the desert. This also shows a second use of the name Jatku, and gives Yndelle an opportunity to explain who Jatku was and how important she was to research, all without realising she’s talking to Jatku II.

This introduction inspires curiosity in Kraivh IV, who asks if she knows anything about Ynvei, her mother. Yndelle explains the strange and complex theory of Ynvei, the idea of the Grand Design as a sort of omniconspiracy that could be self-sustained by sheer complexity itself.

At some point here, Inx discloses his story about time-warping WMD spells, and Cazas learns about the Great Distribution. These two ideas influence the group to have different views of the empire’s enemies – Cazas sees them as just as bad as what they say the Empire might be, but whoever learns about the time-bombs considers that people can want to restore damage that’s been done.

The group, realising they can only get partial information from the Iacon, prepare to leave, with Ravite’s help.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[takaraphoenix]

Hi! I really like your fanfics and I was wondering if you had any new long Percy Jackson fanfic planed for the near future?

Technically, I do have a plan for a Jason/Nico/Percy story in the back of my head right now, but I don't really have the time/motivation to write as much as I used to so it feels a little... unfair?... to start another multiple chapter story right now.

The story is called Amor in Absentia and I've talked about it before, if you're curious to hear more! ;)

I also do have to admit that I don't want to start any new multichapter fic while the show is still airing right now, since adaptations tend to influence your... mood. In both ways. I didn't know if it was going to suck so incredibly badly that I wouldn't want to touch anything PJO, or if it was going to be so very good and inspiring that I'd rather write multiple oneshots inspired by it than focus on one AU. As it stands right now, the show is incredibly bland and not swaying me either way much (Medusa aside), but the season's finale hasn't aired yet so jury is still out.

So, yeah! I do have an idea, but I don't really have the time right now and I wouldn't want to post it until after season 1 wrapped! ^^

[phantomfitzroy]

I got caught and tagged like a wild animal by @cromerholt AND @noellevanious :-) quastions time

Are you named after anyone? Technically yes. When I listened to TAZ:Graduation I was really caught on Fitzroy Maplecourt, Knight in Absentia to the realm of Goodcastle 's name for some reason. Don't get me wrong, Griffin made a very fun character but I really don't associate my attachment to the name to him at all. It was more like inspiration, you know? Also my middle name, Aleksandr, is from an old ass youtuber I used to watch religiously in high school. If you know you know. I still use it as a first name, though, Fitz and Aleks are both good names I will respond to. Fun fact, my best friend called me Aleks through our junior/high school before I knew I was trans. I guess it just stuck.

When was the last time you cried? Yesterday. I watched a vid of an older woman with Alzheimer's talking with her daughter. She repeatedly asked her daughter to stop calling her mom, which did get to me, but what got to me most was her gradually remembering her daughter as the video went on while she looked at old photos and trinkets from her past. It really got to me.

Do you have kids? Nope :-) I fluctuate between not wanting kids and maybe wanting kids. I'm sure I'll have a better idea when I'm older and actually can take care of myself first.

What sports do you play/have you played? I used to play basketball in junior high. Also if you count marching band? Our director had us doing laps around the football field before practice and shit.

Do you use sarcasm? A very hesitant yes. I hardly use it, the closest I could say I get to sarcasm most of the time is just telling silly lies to people, but there's never any ill will behind it ever. I just like seeing what I can get people to believe, but I always let people know I lied after.

What's the first thing you notice about someone? In a physical sense their smile. I'm drawn to people's mouths for some reason. But in a broader sense the first thing I notice is usually the way they interact with other people.

Eye color? Hazel. I've got this cool ring of orangeish gold around my pupils.

Scary movies or happy endings? Depends on the day. I usually like scary movies though. As long as the ending is satisfying, it doesn't have to be happy for me to have enjoyed the experience.

Any talents? I don't like talking myself up but I am pretty good at acting and singing. Admittedly, I think I'm a better singer now than before my voice dropped from HRT.

Where were you born? Midwest. Minnesota. You're not getting anything closer than that, I shant dox myself.

Hobbies? Art. I draw and have been trying to get back into painting. I also technically do theatre as a hobby currently, since I don't get paid for the performances I'm in. And viddy games :-)

Any pets? I do not legally have pets, at least not in my own home, but I consider my dad's dogs my dogs since I take care of them as much (if not more) than they do lmao. Also one of my mom's dogs is technically mine, since I did pay for him when we got him, but I haven't been able to have pets anywhere I've lived since I moved out so he stays with my momma.

Height? 5'4"... I thought I was 5'5" until I was 18 years old.

Favorite school subject? I liked most science classes in school. The graphic design class I took in high school was fuckin awesome. Currently, though, I'm trying to teach myself to code and I'm enjoying that immensely.

Dream job? Professional acting!! Ideally I'd do live theatre, musical or otherwise. But I think I'd also be happy doing film. I would also be very happy as a live theatre director, though I'd need more experience directing first. I would also love love love to be a part of a professional improv troupe. Because I'm a dweeb. And good at improv.

Now I get to tag people. @genderkiller @gravellymistaken @nilovalentine @thesexiestlobster if you guy wanna do this :-) also anyone else who wants to, this was fun smiles

[macaroni-rascal]

Interesting... The only reason I wouldn't put the Italians in first is that they did make mistakes in the free. Loved them in the short, though. I actually would've absolutely had the Canadanes at the top, they did a phenomenal job keeping it together while having just two knees between them lol. And just their material and presentation was superior to the other teams. They've said they're doing a Brazilian free this year, right? The 80s theme should absolutely suit them. They're the team I root for the most, I want them to get their due. My podium would've been Canadanes, Italians, and I would've awarded H/B a medal in absentia, I don't care, they've dealt with such unnecessary shit and they've been forever criminally underscored for how good they are. I'd have the Brits in the two-spot-qualifying rankings just because it would've sucked for that junior team not to have a spot. I would've knocked the French down because none of their top teams excite me, their only interesting team is Lagouge/Caffa but they aren't where they need to be technically at all.

I get that, I would still have the Italians first just because of they are technically superior the Canadanes. Lolo is amazing, but Nik struggles with stuff, while the Italians are matched well and are equally proficient. Also, if they won worlds, maybe they'd finally fucking retire.

I generally don't follow a lot of program announcements in the off season, I like to show up in September and get surprised/excited at all the choices and programs. I also don't watch performances from shows usually. I'm not sure what a "Brazilian" free means though? Are they doing a samba? Or a capoeira? That would be fun. Dance fighting in ice knife shoes.

Big hugs to H/B, I think they are continuing so I hope they have a good season, I am a little worried they will be taken over by Green and Parsons.

I feel you on the Brits being in the top 10 to give the actually good ice dance team from that country a shot at worlds, I amend my list and put the in 10th!

I agree there are no interesting French teams at the moment, I mean there hasn't been an interesting French team sine Pechelat and Bourzat, but that's a whole other conversation.

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

:(

[cephalog0d]

Batfic - "Musical Costumes"

Rating: Teen and Up (Language)

Category: Gen

Relationships/Characters: Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd & Tim Drake & Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain & Duke Thomas & Damian Wayne & Barbara Gordon & Alfred Pennyworth; Dick Grayson (mentioned)

Additional Tags: Humor, Banter, Batkids Being Batsibs

Words: 1,057

Summary:

There was a quiet moment before Jason felt the prickle of eyes and looked up from where he'd been absently scratching lines in the arm of the chair (sorry Alfred) to see the collective attention of the room placed on him.

"Absolutely fucking not," he snapped vehemently.

(Full text after the cut or over on AO3)

"-so someone will have to be spotted as Nightwing a few times for the next week or so," Bruce's briefing concluded. There was a quiet moment before Jason felt the prickle of eyes and looked up from where he'd been absently scratching lines in the arm of the chair (sorry Alfred) to see the collective attention of the room placed on him.

"Absolutely fucking not," he snapped vehemently.

"You are the closest-" Bruce started.

"No I'm fucking not!" Jason gestured at his own torso to emphasize the point.

"Height-wise you are," Steph added very unhelpfully. "Weight wise it's more…equidistant," she conceded with a loose wave between Jason and Tim.

"Technically Duke is the closest but I think even Gotham's criminal masterminds might notice that," Tim threw out, pedantic as ever.

"What, because I'm a meta?" Duke asked with an impressively straight face.

"Yes," Tim said in the same flat tone. Cass only barely tried to muffle a laugh. Steph didn't try at all. Jason chose to ignore all of them, glaring defiantly at Bruce, who mostly just looked like he wanted a nap. Or a child free vacation. Whatever, it was his own fault he kept collecting more and that they were all awful.

"No," Jason repeated. "I am not running around in that stupid suit just because Dickhead managed to break himself showing off."

"That is not an accurate-" Damian interjected, predictably jumping to Dick's defense in absentia.

"You have before," Cass interrupted him neatly. Her expression was a lot more controlled than Steph's, but her eyes were bright with suppressed laughter.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jason said pointedly.

"Dick's current suit isn't even that bad. It's not like you have to wear the old Robin suit. Again," Tim said mildly. Jason narrowed his eyes at Tim, who met his gaze unflinchingly and took a slow, deliberate drink.

"Boys," Bruce cut in, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. Jason decided to temporarily let it go and ignore both the way Tim smirked behind his cup and Steph's quiet "oooooh".

"Do it yourself," Jason challenged Bruce, earning a burst of laughter from the rest of the room. Bruce's expression did the constipated thing that usually meant he was at least mildly regretting his choices in family. Good.

"Oh my god please do, I will pay so much money to see that," Steph gasped breathlessly.

"Stephanie." Bruce's reprimand, predictably, did nothing to silence her.

"Father has his own duties as Batman," Damian said snippily.

"Additionally, I do not believe Master Bruce's joints would appreciate those kind of acrobatics," Alfred added as he appeared and started clearing things off the table.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce said with another sigh.

"Cass can do all that flippy bullsh-oot," Jason hastily corrected when Alfred glanced at him.

"Are you saying you can't?" Cass asked sweetly.

“Of course he can’t,” Damian scoffed not all that quietly.

“Damian,” Bruce said. Cass ignored them both. She met Jason's glare for several seconds, just smiling and waiting.

"I know what you're doing," Jason finally said, jabbing a finger at her.

"But it's still working," Tim muttered.

"No, it's not."

"It's okay if you can't," Cass said sympathetically. "I can."

The right answer was to leave it at that and walk away and Jason knew that, he wasn't an idiot and he didn't have to prove anything to these assholes, he should just get up and leave and let them sort their shit out amongst themselves, they were manipulating him, Cass with her disingenuous smile and Steph with her barely restrained laughter and Tim with his infuriating little smirk and Damian with his condescending sneer and Duke just watching them all with amusement while he finished his post-patrol sandwich.

But.

That spiteful little thing in his chest that had guided so many of his most ill advised decisions in the past had taken hold and just because he knew they were baiting him didn't mean he didn't still want to prove them wrong.

"Fine!" he snapped finally. "Fu-reaking fine!" Alfred gave him a knowing look but didn't say anything about the slip. "I refuse to do the stupid puns, though." He could at least draw that line.

"It's okay if you're not clever enough to do that part," Tim said with a condescending pat on the arm. Jason very maturely did not break his fucking fingers, but he did bare his teeth in what was only barely a smile.

"I'm going to glitter bomb your apartment. Emphasis on the bomb." Okay so not that mature, so sue him, Tim started it. Tim opened his mouth, presumably to say something even more inflammatory, but got interrupted.

"Boys," Bruce said again, more sharply. “Tim, leave your brother alone. Jason, thank you for your assistance. Stephanie, whatever you’re planning don’t.”

Steph made an affronted noise and widened in her eyes in a comically innocent expression that did not fool anyone for even a second.

“Right, well, some of us have been up all day,” Duke said as he stood. “Good luck, Hoodwing.” He left the room, grinning, as Tim choked on his drink and Bruce sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Hoodwing?” Cass repeated thoughtfully, testing out the word. “Redwing? Nighthood?”

“I like Nighthood,” Babs’s voice spoke up. None of them would admit to being startled, but several of them did perhaps sit up a little straighter at the sudden addition.

“Have you been listening this whole time?” Jason asked, and immediately mentally face-palmed.

“Jason.”

“I know, I heard it when I said it.”

“Anyway, I’ve got some alerts that need looking into, if you’ve all decided who’s wearing what costume.”

“No one else is swapping costumes,” Bruce said sternly. “Everyone go get ready. Oracle, tell me what you’ve got.”

There was a brief scramble of finishing drinks and snacks and everyone broke to go gear up. Steph had a scheming look that Jason absolutely did not trust in the slightest but she was dragged off by Cass before he could get a further read on it.

A few minutes later, though, he got a text.

((I have a whole headcanon that people swapping costumes temporarily is just a commonplace thing for Secret Identity purposes, because half of them are public figures, so if one of them gets injured or has to travel as a civilian they'll get one of the others to be spotted in their suit while they're out so nobody puts together "This Bat doesn't show up when this Well Known Public Figure is out of town/obviously injured".

(Hey remember in Batgirl: Year One where Bats made Dick dress up as her to throw Gordon off her trail?)

Of course, some people make better duplicates than others.

(Tim is referencing the fact that in the comics, Jason was fully wearing a copy of his old Robin costume, complete with the lack of pants, during their infamous Titans Tower altercation. Because I will never let go of that fact, it is absurd, absolute drama queen Jason Todd, what a doofus, I love him. Cass is referencing in preboot Nightwing where there was an arc where Jason was running around murdering folks in a Nightwing costume to undermine Dick.)))

[fiddles-ifs]

THE KING’S UPDATE JAN 15, 2022: THE WORLD OF TKP PT. 1

The Kingdom of Alandria is a monarchy situated north of the Musannan -- the mountain range that separates the northern half of the continent from the southern half, called Las Muzánas in Alandrian. It’s also where you’ll spend most of your time during the events of TKP. The people of Alandria are usually brown-skinned with red or neutral undertones, with prominent cheekbones, dark eyes, and dark hair that ranges from wavy to very curly. 

Climate: Alandria’s latitude stretches for almost 1,000 km (600 miles), making it one of the most diverse countries on the continent. Northward, the coast is gentle and marine, with mildly hot summers and mild winters with the occasional drift of snow. The northern coast is the only region in Alandria that sees regular snowfall. Further south, Alandria gets hotter; the central tableau is hot and dry in the summer and humid and rainy in the winter. The land bordering the Musannan and Iskar is semiarid: very hot summers, extremely mild winters, very little precipitation. Exports include lemons, limes, grapes, wine, olives, almonds, dates, pomegranates, plums, pigs, cattle, seafood, brocaded cloth, wool, and raw materials. The capital city of Alandria is Elvira, located on an island between two major rivers.

Religion: Alandria is a primarily Yvasean country -- following the teachings of the First Martyr, Yvas. It’s a monotheistic religion, with the chief deity being The Nameless One, a god whose name is too terrible to utter by mortals. The religion is lead by the Liturgical Council, made up of elected representatives from every country on the continent with an Yvasean population -- so far encompassing Alandria, Aymerich, and the many petty kingdoms of the Kiltry Aisles. There is also The Empty Seat -- where the former member of the Iskarian member of the Liturgical Council sat, before being expelled. The Liturgical Council lives in the Holy Court, an autonomous region in the mountains between Alandria and Aymerich.

Politics: Alandria is ruled (in theory) in-absentia by a group of councilors hand-picked by the former king -- Afonso the Bastard -- while his heir-apparent comes of age. In practice, Alandria is ruled by king Lisandro Abarcas, Afonso’s last-born son while the councilors struggle to keep their own powerbase. Lisandro has yet to be baptized -- a religious ceremony all the kings of Alandria have to participate in before officially taking the throne. Thus, Lisandro is technically subject to the whims of the council, for so long as he remains unbaptized.

For the past six years, Alandria has been suffering through several civil wars that were quickly put down by Lisandro -- the primary reason he’s remained unbaptized since the death of his father. Even before that, the minor nobility of Alandria had a bad habit of going to war over land disputes. Alandria is therefore war-torn; many of its smaller farming villages (especially along the coast) are still recovering and massively depopulated, leading to famine among the working class and a lack of not only a labor force but also a standing levy, creating a need for mercenaries

People of Note:

Lisandro Abarcas de Elvira: the current king-uncrowned of Alandria, away from the capital for six years putting down a series of civil wars spearheaded by unhappy nobles. Currently in his late 20s, and returning to the capital to plan for his baptism and official crowning.

Idali Abarcas de Elvira, Duquessa de Tolde: the duchess of Tolde, and countess of counties therein, including Guirocón, and Lisandro’s older sister. Currently in her early 30s, and somewhere in her domain.

Andoval de Huitzil: the current King’s Physician, and a member of the Council of Kings, in charge of the king’s personal health and well-being. A deeply spiritual man.

Loreno Mahuiz de Urraca: the head of the king’s Council, in charge of diplomatic affairs. Equal parts steward and diplomat. Often described as “too easy-going.”

Renalto: The Court Chaplain -- and head obispo in charge of religious affairs for the whole kingdom, answering only to the Liturgical Council of the Holy Court. Extremely old, nervous, and besotted with tremors.

Afonsico Mutalto de Elvira: the king’s head general, and a childhood friend of the former king. Has a son currently serving in the king’s personal guard. Honor-bound, he respects Lisandro, but privately respected his father more.