#the dragons trend towards cold-blooded

[arcxnumvitae]

"It's finally warmer out!"

"Pft, you act like you're coming out of hibernation each and every spring."

"You're not much different either, Laoshi! Besides, warm weather is so much better than cold!"

She always says that...until summer comes around.

[therealvagabird]

The Days of Clay - Pt. 1: Lands and Oceans

Another setting concept! This one for a paleo/neolithic world. I’ve had the urge to make this kind of thing for a while now, but I finally got done with the editing.

You can read the full setting rundown all at once on my WordPress. But I will also be posting it in separate parts here on Tumblr depending on your viewing preferences.

Feel free to a leave a comment, and share!

The world is vast, yet humanity is small. Wilds stretch all about, dwarfing even the largest stone houses of Man. It is a primordial era, when the thinking folk knew not the strength of metal, nor the heights of civilization. Most are born and die knowing but a fraction of all the world about them, or if not, braving seas and lands filled with ravenous monsters of a forgotten age. These are the first days, the longest days, the eternal waking dream of those who first knew what it was to tell stories.

In the Days of Clay, humanity exists scattered across many continents and isles in a world of vast seas and dangerous wilds. Great beasts of ages past hunt humans like vermin, and the elements are often the most dangerous foe of all. Fine resources which would allow for technological advancement are rare. Copper and tin are like gold and jewels, though in turn tribals may make extensive use of saurian bones, the carapaces of giant insects, and other exotic materials. Most tribes live confined to tiny fractions of their homeland or hop from island to island in endless seas with nothing but the stars as their guide. Yet others may roam far and wide, or travel from land to land should they be so brave. Though advanced metallurgy and the heights of empire are yet unknown, humanity is not always so “primitive”. In many places there can be found great cities of stone, or gathering places of many tribes, leveraging the power of cooperation. Likewise some crafters may do things with rock and wood and leather that would put even iron-based technologies to shame. Magic is absent, but spirituality is everywhere. The Days of Clay are a time of diversity, danger, and possibilities.

The Thirteen Lands and the Seven Seas

Continents:

Ancient Land of Sakha

Within the waters of Asra, the Great Blood Sea, the old continent of Sakha stands as it has since time immemorial. Not the largest landmass, it nonetheless has many arable river-lands hidden deep within its interior clefts, and numerous peninsulas and nearby islets which have made the coasts a boon for seafaring tribes. The Sakhan peoples are among the most diverse of any continent, having mastered mountain-climbing, boat craft, basic riverside agriculture, and even the domestication of certain beasts of burden. It is the claim of the Sakhan shamans that their land is the oldest in the world, and the birthplace of Manu and Manya – the first humans created by the gods.

Sakha’s climate is very hot, with mountain ranges erupting from broad highland deserts. Within the gaps of these mountains, however, can be found riverways which give rise to flourishing green sanctuaries. Out to the ocean, the bounty of the Blood Sea is abundant, and many tribes stake their claims upon nearby islands, pursuing dangerous seacraft to trade goods between the Sakhan mainland and the outer isles – sometimes even to the far neighbors of the Blood Sea.

Native flora of Sakha includes varieties of desert palms, coniferous trees, and hearty broad-leaf shrubs. Low-lying vegetation is common, and hundreds of varieties of grains, fruits, and aromatic herbs either have their origin in Sakha or were brought there through gradual trade across Asra. Fauna includes many mammalian varieties, including large goats, camels, some pygmy horses, and cattle. Big cats and jackals constitute predator species, and although there are not many saurians to be found upon Sakha, there are a great many enormous snakes and arthropods both in the deserts and along the coasts. Ape-Men are also prominent in the south and east, though not all of their tribes are hostile.

The peoples of Sakha tend to be darker-skinned due to the harsh sun of their home, though are sharp of feature and their hair is less kinky than tribes to the south. Sakhan peoples are as a whole regarded to be more “civilized” than most of their neighbors, having pioneered trends of building, copper-craft, boat building, and other technologies throughout their history. There are hundreds of gods in Sakha, though many of the shamans and priests seem to give reverence to the same higher concepts of “light” and “shadow”. Battles between entire tribes over supposed disputes between their gods are not uncommon. The Sakhans are also noted traders and travelers, sometimes being found on entire other continents after long and adventurous sea-voyages most in their right mind would never consider.

Batyr, Land of Wolves

To the northeast of the Blood Sea there juts a prominent chain of mountainous isles, stretching further and further east all the way into the deeps of the frozen north. The coastlines of Batyr are treacherous to sailors who do not know their secrets, but they hide a hidden boon. Just about the tip of the Land of Wolves there can be found its broad steppelands, which though culminating in snowy barrens at their furthest reaches are some of the most bountiful wilds in all the world. Vast forests and open plains filled with game, if one can just brave the harshness of the winters. To the south, the mountain ranges are less prominent, meaning that those who wish to reach Batyr from outside must know their way about the island-jumps, and the coastal tribes of Batyr are themselves more disposed toward heading south into the Ocean of Tiham than the western Blood Sea.

Though temperate for most of the year, the winters of Batyr are biting cold and can freeze unguarded humans where they stand. Most of the flora that isn’t woody steppe-shrubs are tall and mighty growths of oak and pine which have endured countless years beyond the memories of the oldest shamans. Saurians are unheard of, along with most great reptiles, and any cold-blooded beasts must seek refuge deep underground. Batyr’s greatest wealth and greatest danger, therefor, is held within its name. Massive mammals can be found all throughout the far country’s wilds, from towering mammoths, to great god-birds, and the fearsome dire wolves. There is nary a beast of fur and fang anywhere across the thirteen continents that cannot be found in a larger and more terrible form within Batyr.

Batyrian folk tend to be pale of skin and hairy of body, though darker tribes may also be found, either from ancient mixings with wayward natives of other lands across the Blood Sea, or from tribes out in the distant east. Hair colors come in many ranges, and beards are as popular as anywhere to keep back the chilling winds. Furs are worn in absence of less durable fabrics. Though many are happy to trade, Batyrians have a fearsome reputation, as they are also known to be raiders, and many of the wilder tribes maintain gruesome practices stemming from a single-minded desire for survival. The hunting of large game has bred a people who are not to be trifled with, channeling the unstoppable spirit of the mighty wolf.

Darkest Ar-Nung

Far to the south, beyond the furthest expanse of the Ocean of Tiham, there lies a hidden land where few have journeyed. Though in ancient times humanity did in fact reach those far shores, not but a paltry handful have ever come in or out ever again. South of the very tip of the Hinterlands of Siral’ik, Darkest Ar-Nung dwells across the stormy seas. It is a desert land of great peril, where all must struggle to survive. Though known for its searing and mind-baking heat, to the very south the mountains of Ar-Nung connect to the great ice which blocks off the shadowed reaches of the frozen lands. Travel to Ar-Nung in near impossible save for the savviest of seafarers from Siral’ik who know the way to hop across the island chains of Tiham to eventually reach Ar-Nung’s stormy northern shores. Though there are said to be lands in the frozen wastes beyond Ar-Nung’s most southern mountain ranges, those reaches go unnamed save for being considered to be part of Ar-Nung, as no human has ever journeyed so far into that icy hell and lived.

Within Darkest Ar-Nung there are many perils. It is not just the unforgiving climate and ferocious predatory monsters one must be wary of in the broad deserts, but also the numerous subtle ways one might be killed. Tiny arthropods and reptiles hold enough venom to kill even their titanic cousins in a single bite, while flora of the most beautiful hues – some even resembling their useful or edible counterparts – may likewise inflict a horrid and agonizing death on any who even touch them. Places where water might be found are no less dangerous, as great crocodiles and sharks lurk within the rivers and along the coasts, fit to swallow a grown warrior whole. Meanwhile, to the south, the frozen mountains which lead into the uncharted ice-lands hold untold horrors none have ever braved, from fabled frost-wights and storm-dragons to unnamed, hungering things deep within the mountain caves.

Despite this, the peoples of Ar-Nung are regarded to be rather intelligent and unaggressive, having mastered the delicate art of survival in such a country over many generations, and averse to undue risk and conflict when there is already such peril in their home wilds. They are a dark-skinned folk, even so dark as natives to lands like distant Noba Rugna, though their features do not in any way resemble those of their neighbors, possessing weather-worn faces and bristling hair. The Ar-Nung tribes may be found all about their continent, even within the mountains of the south, and those few who have ever managed to journey to Ar-Nung and back have told stories of those strange and silent folk who engage in all manner of bizarre rituals to ward off misfortune and evil. It is the necessity of the Ar-Nung tribes to know the spirit of every plant and animal upon their country, as to harbor uncertainty is to be subject to a sudden death.

Etlen Rugna

The land known as Etlen Rugna is in fact a jagged and mountainous continent divided up into many smaller regions by prominent inland seas along with numerous lakes and rivers. It dominates the western reaches of the Blood Sea, with its north coming close to the outer isles of Fjallgarth, while its south is likewise not too far by island-hopping from Sakha. Numerous tribes have made the diverse climes of Etlen Rugna their home for long ages, warring and trading in equal measure, enjoying the bounty of what some would call the most plentiful of all mankind’s lands. To the west of Etlen Rugna is the Etlen Udra – the Etlen Sea, which few have ever dared to cross. A quite skilled shipmaster might be able to make it to Frozen Nunaat by way of Fjallgarth, though many upon Etlen Rugna’s shores know nothing of the cousin-continent with which their share a name – Guarana Rugna.

The northern reaches of Etlen are vibrant, seasonal, and rich with many landscapes from soaring mountains to gentle prairies. Rivers, lakes, and inland seas are all commonplace, as well as deep and temperate forests. To the south, weather becomes hotter, culminating in biting deserts to the far south, dotted with oases of palms and other tropical flora. Animals upon Etlen are as diverse as the landscapes or the people, though most are not so large or intimidating as those that might be found upon other continents more suited to their climes – smaller breeds of mammoth are relegated to the furthest northern tundra, for instance, whereas saurian are found upon the outer isles and peninsulas of the far south. Within certain reaches, ape-men might even be encountered in not inconsiderable gatherings. Etlen Rugna is a vast land, though crossing its many wilds is no easy task, dwarfing neighbors like Sakha. Even trade within Etlen’s borders is not always so commonplace.

Just as with their homeland, the peoples of Etlen are varied in appearance and practice. To the north, they become more fair of complexion, whereas to the south their skin and hair becomes darker and rougher, as with each river-gap and mountain pass their roaming territories become more like the harsh deserts and jungle isles across the sea. It’s in the south and east that tribes tend more towards basic practices of agriculture and weaving, while in the north their industries are more inclined towards fishing, hunting, and raiding. There are hundreds of gods and spirits worshipped across Etlen Rugna, and in times of scarcity some of the greatest and most unforgiving bloodlettings have occurred, as tribes turn upon any outside of their immediate kin. The diversity of Etlen fosters as much xenophobia and hatred as it does cooperation and understanding, and even travelers from lands as schismatic as Sakha have remarked on the pains every Etleni takes to distinguish their tribal identity from all others, as confusing one Etleni folk with another is often a grave offense.

Far Anpe and the Islands of Fire

Across many of the far seas to the west, across the Etlen Udra, and the K’aino Udra, and the Devil Sea of Xulub, there is a distant country at the furthest reaches of the world’s shores. This is Far Anpe, a hidden range of mountain isles crowned with fire and watered with mystery. Formed of a grand chain of volcanoes, Far Anpe is most treacherous about its northern and southern tips, where the peaks are still young, and new mounts are prime to be born from the boiling waters of Xulub and the polar ice. Separated from the jungles of its sister-continent Guarana Rugna by the K’aino Udra – the K’aino Sea – Far Anpe is composed of tall mountains in its near entirety. Those places not defined by colossal peaks are fertile beyond compare thanks to the rich black soil, and on the sloping foothills leading out to the sea house numerous tribes who have built civilizations to rival the stonework citadels of distant Sakha. Save for trade with Guarana or the south tip of Dziil, the Anpean peoples go unknown to the rest of the world.

It is said in the ancient stories that the first Anpean tribals were among the most adventurous and daring of all folk in the world, until they came to the Islands of Fire from beyond the northern sea. Their heroic chieftains claimed that these peaks were in fact the gates of hell, and that just beyond – should they be so bold – the promised land of paradise awaited them. Finding the mountains and green slopes of Anpe, the tribes settled there at last, content that they had found their promised land. Most of the Anpean tribes control fortified encampments placed within the mountain clefts, which they use as communal shelters when not engaging in nomadic herding and foraging. Dangerous beasts like snow-jaguars and giant snakes might be found in the clefts, but for the most part the deadlier saurian are relegated to neighboring Guarana Rugna. Long-necked camels provide wealth to the herder tribes, whose wool they trade with the fisher-folk and mountain-dwellers. In certain hidden valleys, large mammals such as the lumbering shellbacks and giant sloths may provide adequate challenge for hunters, and to the south, the very earth heaves with fiery hunger. Apeans tend to have dark skin and hair, do not often grow beards, and have sharp features. Though small in stature, the Anpean people are fair of face and enduring of body and soul, descended from great warriors and grown even stronger off the bounty of their sacred homeland.

Fjallgarth

Northernmost of those continents that border Asra, the Great Blood Sea, the very name Fjallgarth inspires fear in the hearts of those folk who set their tents upon Etlen Rugna’s coldest shores. To the more distant Sakhan, should they be versed enough in stories brought from traveling tongues, it is a name that belongs to a strange land, where the people are white as the snow they wade through. The homeland of the fabled giants. Some stories are more fantastical than others, but save for Frozen Nunaat or other climes within the cold wastes of the icy Skathon Sea, no continents are as frigid and brutal as Fjallgarth.

Mountains, icebergs, fjords, and sharp valleys mark most of Fjallgarth’s landscape. Its coasts are near all intractable to outside sailors, no matter how fine-built their canoes or rafts are built. Sea-serpents dwell in the waves, along with kraken, sharks, and whales of colossal size. Yet this does not deter the brave natives from fishing within the rich yet chilling waters. Inland, there are reaches which can be found which are not so rocky and hard, and indeed many wild stretches where the sun is warm in summer and no sight of snow is to be had in the hot months save for crowning the distant peaks. Yet in the distant north, where both Fjallgarth and Batyr meet the icesheets of the Skathon Sea, even the great mammoth and dire bear struggle to stave off the cold. It is told in the fables that hairy men who feast on human flesh, along with giants who can command the powers of blizzards and wildfires can be found in those treacherous wastes beyond where even the most fearless raider chief might travel.

The folk of Fjallgarth are similar to those of northern Etlen, being fair of skin and hair, though yet moreso than their more temperate southern cousins. They grow to prodigious sizes and are fond of wearing enough furs to match their own hirsute appearances, and engaging in a warrior lifestyle which puts most other folk of Asra to shame. Fjallgarthan tribes are also known to be skilled seafarers, having constructed boats capable of reliable island-hopping. While the Fjallgarthan raiders might build no great temples or broad gathering-grounds – at least not as the southeasterners do – the northmen have been spotted in as far-away lands as Sakha and Noba Rugna.

Frozen Nunaat

Few have traveled to Frozen Nunaat since the ancient days of its settling by humankind. Even the ape-tribes have little to do with the vast wasteland, but for those who dare the gnashing ice, it can be a country of great plenty. From the more temperate volcanic isles in the south rich with fir trees and good fishing, to the prime whaling shores of the icy north, there is more to Frozen Nunaat than its name suggests. Laying beyond the reaches of Asra, in the depths of the cold Skathon Sea, Nunaat is said by some to be the home of frost giants or other mythical beasts.

Most of the continent consists of broad tundra, hence its name, though this is not the totality of its landscape. Along the south shores there is some resemblance to Fjallgarth in terms of the wilds consisting of a blend of pine forests, fjords, and warmer volcanic wastelands and outlying isles. It is here that settlers from Fjallgarth wage intermittent battles with the native folk, though trade of furs and other goods is also common. Fish and game birds are in plenty, and in many ways the southern parts of Nunaat are not so lesser in wealth nor hospitality than places like Etlen Rugna. The winters are harsh, indeed, but any who settle there are well accustomed to them save for the worst of years. Northward, where the distinctions between land and sea become blurred by virtue of the all-encompassing ice, things are less endurable. Most of the interior is considered a hellish desert to all but the most determined of overland travelers, devoid of oases and cold the whole year round. Even in the warmer months, when one might not have to contend with blizzards and endless night, that is the time when the wolves and bears begin their migrations, hungry after the dark months. Yet in the north there is still bounty to be found. Great whales, seals, and penguins migrate along the north shores, and the native Nunaatun peoples display a skill for harpooning that outstrips even the barbaric Fjallgarthans.

Nunaatun tribals, separate from the Fjallgarthan outcasts who have since made semi-permanent encampments upon the south shores, tend to be short of stature and thick of bone. They grow abundant hair, though beards are less common, and their skin tends to be dark from the constant sun-glare off the snow. In many ways they resemble the folk of distant Anpe or Siral’ik, though to see any of those human strains in one place would be a rare sight indeed. Though overall a peaceful people more focused on survival than grander designs of migration or war, they are among the few folk who the Fjallgarthans will speak with reverence of, as it is said by them that when the nights grow dark and the winds cold, nothing will stop a Nunaatun from doing what they must to survive.

Guarana Rugna

East of Anpe, surrounded on three sides by the seas of Xulub, K’aino, and Etlen Udra, the jungles of Guarana Rugna are as deep and green as any abyssal waters. From the highest peak to the lowest river-valley – of which there are hundreds upon hundreds – the verdant plant life of Guarana coats the entire breadth of the continent. Hot, humid, and lush with a diverse menagerie of flora and fauna, the many tribes of Guarana have all they need to survive and more – and even more ways to meet an unfortunate end. Survival-craft is a necessity, even by typical human standards, and river-canoeing is a popular method of navigating the otherwise intractable jungles.

Not all of Guarana is composed of forest – there are also wetlands, grassy plains, and a few small deserts, but for the most part, jungled sprawl coats the majority of the land. Were the trees to be stripped away, it would be seen that Guarana Rugna has a landscape as varied in altitude and natural wonder as any, though this can be hard to tell when trekking through boundless jungle reaches, shrouded by trees which look mountainous in their own right. Saurians are plentiful, and larger mammalians are scarce. Humans, apes, and other warm-bloods must be quick and observant to avoid being snatched up by a stalking pterosaur or raptor, and even great carnosaurs may camouflage themselves within the sheer density of the foliage. Great serpent-leeches and rope-spinners can snatch a whole human up from above or below, yet that is not all. Beautiful flowers and insects as small as a fingernail can deliver agonizing death before an unlucky creature has had time to realize what their lack of awareness has brought upon them. Guarana Rugna is a land of a thousand beauties, and a thousand dooms.

Yet the tribes of Guarana love their home and the bounty it brings, having had their senses honed to obsidian sharpness over long generations, learning from their surroundings so that even the mighty devilsaurs may not tear down their tree-houses, and the quetzal-boa would prove no greater threat than a songbird – when met with a dart coated in harvested manchineel poison. Guaranan folk tend to be short of stature and dark of hair, though their skin tones are very diverse, as some may spend most of their lives shrouded by the heavy foliage, and others baked to a deep brown beneath the coastal sun. Dense body and facial hair is uncommon due to the humidity and heat, though the Guaranans are fond of body paint for many purposes – clan identification, imitation of poisonous creatures, religious use, or camouflage. Though quite skilled at the building and utilizing of river-canoes, as well as high-altitude construction, the Guaranans have never been inclined towards trade beyond the waters, save for a few ambitious peoples who ply the island chains between their northern shores and the south coasts of the Leghen Alps, and a few others who dare cross the K’aino sea to trade with the affluent Anpean peoples.

Himaleh Vistra

East of the Ancient Lands of Sankha, north of the Ocean of Tiham, there is a strange and jagged land considered quite intractable despite its location at a crossroads of several continents. Himaleh Vistra is named for its great mountains, larger than any in all the myriad ranges which dot the shattered lands across the seven seas. To the north of the Vistran range lays little but desert and tundra steppe, yet to the south the river-broken coasts are lush with jungles. It is an overall misshapen land, carved up by peaks and ravines, rivers and gulfs, which have made it notorious as a confusing hinterland for any who dare make the journey to its shores. Yet many have made that journey, for not unlike those peoples who huddle around the Blood Sea, Himaleh Vistra’s central location in the world means that its beaches may oft be landed upon by visitors from far Siral’ik, from Sakha, and even Noba Rugna. If one dares make the trip to Himaleh Vistra in search of rarities not to be found on their home continent, they will be rewarded by seeing more diversity and exotic beauties than most humans would ever bear witness to in their simple lives.

The Vistra range is Himaleh Vistra’s namesake and most prominent feature, composed of a meandering chain of colossal mountains which stretch from east to west, between the closest gaps of Siral’ik and Sakha. A diverse country, most of those hills north of the Vistra range are composed of steppe and tundra, much like the nearby reaches of Batyr and Siral’ik. These other northern steppe-lands are separated from Himaleh Vistra by little more than the straits of the Skathon Sea, and during the coldest winters vast stretches of that ocean may freeze over, allowing mammoths and their hunters to cross should they be so ambitious. To the south, Himaleh Vistra is much more hospitable, lush with deep jungles and fertile riverlands where many tribes make their homes. Saurians might be found, along with ape-tribes as can be encountered across the entire breadth of that continent. Giant snakes are also a common threat and are worshipped by some tribal sects as living gods. Himaleh Vistra is noted as having some of the greatest diversity of flora and fauna of any continent the world over.

Those people who call Himaleh Vistra their home appear quite like the denizens of Sakha in many ways, though they tend to be darker of skin overall. Among the peaks and to the northern steppes, these Vistrans can be seen to have lighter skin, and some with features more like their neighbors in Siral’ik. The divide between the different regions of Vistra is quite pronounced, with the dwellers of the coasts and foothills considering the jungle-tribes to be more primitive than them, while both the southern cultures regard those who live north of the Vistran range as being little more than barbarians. Despite this, the Vistrans are noted to be quite accepting of outsiders, as they have gathered much wealth by aiding enterprising seafarers in finding safe harbor on their jagged shores. The Vistrans have the privilege of being some of the few people to realize that the scope of the world far exceeds the borders of their homeland, and in turn their trade of rare goods has let other tribes realize this truth as well. To find an artifact crafted in far Siral’ik while one is bartering in an Etleni encampment can be attributed to a Vistran trader somewhere down the line.

Hinterlands of Siral’ik

To the furthest north and east, across numerous islands and twisted stretches of land between the Ocean of Tiham and the Skathon Sea, there are the Hinterlands of Siral’ik. Though few journey there, the cultures of that distant country rival even great Sakha in what they have accomplished since their first settling. While goods from Himaleh Vistra are valued in their own right, for a western trader to find an item from Siral’ik is the best of luck, so lauded is the craftsmanship of the mysterious peoples of that mysterious land. Jungle, highlands, forest, desert – all climes may be found in Siral’ik, across the Hinterland’s many offshoot peninsulas and winding reaches. The very borders of the country can be hard to define, for in the north the continent merges with the bitter Skathon ice, and to the south a hundred-thousand islands disperse across the Oceans of Tiham and mysterious Kaiwa.

Giant apes, ape-men, saurians, huge snakes, devil-crabs – these are just a small selection of the species that can be found throughout the many disparate climates of Siral’ik. Much like Etlen Rugna, Siral’ik is a jagged continent which contains within itself climates suitable to near any species that might be found upon the world. Travel within Siral’ik comprises an epic journey in and of itself, to say nothing of travel beyond its shores. Though most of the land is within the frozen north, its winding peninsulas and island-chains venture quite far south, meaning that the distinct appearance of Siralese folk can be found throughout a significant range.

Siralese tribals – sometimes referred to as Siral’iki – tend towards shorter statures, paler skin, dark hair, and almond eyes. Beards are less common than in lands like Batyr, though not rare, and within the south stretches or in the high tundra where the snow-glare is bright, dark skin is also quite normal. Though many of the Siralese peoples live simple lives as nomadic hunters or clan-based fishers and farmers, the adventurousness of the Siralese is well known. Not content with spreading out across the entire breadth of their own homeland, the Siralese are some of the best seafarers in the world, having mastered island-hopping to reach lands as far as Batyr and Himaleh Vistra. Though none ever returned, it was also the case that in the distant past Siralese seafarers managed to reach even Darkest Ar-Nung, as well as cross about the curve of the world upon the waves of the Kaiwa Ocean. While none of the numerous islanders who dwell within the mysterious reaches of Kaiwa would consider themselves “Siralese” – if they have even heard such a word – their appearance attests to a shared blood with both those intrepid tribes and their cousins all the way across Kaiwa in reaches like Dziil.

Leghen Alps

Surrounded by the Sea of Gami to its west and the seas of Xulub and Etlen Udra to the east, the Leghen Alps are an isolated land little-explored from the western reaches. Instead, the tribes of Leghen hold more in common with their neighbors in Dziil or even Guarana and Anpe. Defined by its prime mountain range, the Leghen Alps are great peaks which rise above vast forests, swamps, and other green reaches all along the eastern coast. Across their heights, brief prairies give way to the expanse of the Sea of Gami, whose treacherous waters are all that separate the nomadic Legheni peoples of that region from their counterparts in Dziil. Save for a few fearsome creatures like great bears or the rare ape-tribe, the Leghen Alps are noted as a peaceful place, assuming one does not allow themselves to get lost in the deepest of its forested clefts.

Saurians are quite rare in Leghen save for the southernmost swamps bordering Xulub, with most of the wildlife being composed of smaller mammalians, and the flora being quite typical and not often dangerous. Still, while there are many pleasant climes for settlement, the Legheni know not to dally too long when crossing the passes of the Alps. Strange creatures dwell in those shadowy clefts, and in the wrong season it can be the case that entire tribes would meet a terrible end trapped by vicious snows. Still, so long as one stays in the more explored forests, or along the coasts, there is much plenty. Even the dangerous oceans of Gami and Etlen Udra – prolific homes to some of the most horrifying sea-beasts – are not so treacherous so long as one sticks to the ancestral routes.

Legheni are quite similar in stature and appearance to their neighbors in Dziil, being strong of body and face, if not the tallest in all the lands, with sun-toned skin and dark hair, which they are fond of decorating. Form the forests to the prairies, Legheni tribes are quite adept at surviving the perils of their homeland and then some, having made trips to Dziil and Guarana Rugna in the past in the name of trade – something their neighbors would not otherwise be inclined to do. Hunting, fishing, farming, herding – all are known to the Legheni, and where lumber is good and the call of the open sky is not so pressing, they will even build quite impressive villages among the trees. Yet the Legheni are creatures of habit. They will not venture into waters they don’t know, and they will not tarry in the mountains. The ancestors of the Legheni are, after all, just those individuals who were not so foolish as to get lost in those horrible reaches.

Noba Rugna

Below Etlen Rugna, and forming a great chain between the rifts of the Etlen Udra and the Caraka Sea, Noba Rugna is the southernmost of those continents within the “Asra Bounds” – the area by which seafaring tribes from the various lands about the Blood Sea prefer to travel and trade. At its north, Noba Rugna is a hot but fertile land marked by its bountiful coasts, yet to the south it contains as many mysteries as distant countries like Ar-Nung. Across vast mountains, badlands, deserts, the arid reaches at last give way to jungles of primordial age and depth, at last culminating in the far south shores where sweeping grasslands roll out to the temperate Caraka Sea.

At its northernmost extent, Noba Rugna is not too dissimilar from nearby Sakha, being arid but not the most brutal of climes, with its rocky deserts crossed by numerous rivers about which humans and beasts alike are able to seek succor. Seacraft is common there, and the waters are not so treacherous as those to the south. Some saurians prowl the wastes, but for the most part the land is manageable to those acclimated to the heat. South of the very harshest stretches of the desert expanse, however, there can be found some of the deepest and most lush jungles in all the world – and certainly nearest to Asra. Creatures of every type may be found there, from the smallest pygmy ape-man to the largest and most terrifying saurian. South of those forests, temperate grasslands and savannah proceed out to the south ocean, home to most of the larger mammalian species upon Noba Rugna, as the lizards and great arthropods prefer the damp of the northern jungles.

Noba Rugna’s people are hearty and strong, suited to survival in heats even more unforgiving than summer in Sakha. Along the north shores, they tend to resemble the Sakhan folk a great deal, though perhaps with darker tones to their skin. Within the jungles and grasslands where few northerners have dared tread, the tribals can reach hues as black as night, with rough hair and many diverse features and body types adapted to different climes. Those within the jungles tend towards shorter, lither builds, while within the grasslands endurance and strength is favored for long hunting journeys. Though the northern Noba Rugnans sometimes think of their southern counterparts of primitive, any who have made it past the dangers of the southlands and laid eyes upon the great works and daring feats of those folk would know better.

Wide Lands of Dziil

Far, far to the west, past the reaches of the Leghen Alps, and the great Sea of Gami, there is a land of cruel extremes which extends from the furthest north to its southern twin of Anpe. This is Dziil, the highlands. A series of mountains which cleave their way out from between Gami and the great Ocean of Kaiwa, to the west those grand peaks descend into temperate rainforests up to the far ice, while to the east the foothills roll into broad badlands which meet their end in the waters of Gami. Wild and seldom visited by any save for intrepid seafarers from Leghen, there can nonetheless be found some appealing stretches within Dziil’s borders – though those that claim them as their home must be prepared to defend them from the various tribes of the outer wastes.

Dziil is a mountainous country whose namesake range split the length of the continent down the center. To the furthest north the peaks extend all the way into the great ice-sheets, while to the south they taper off into many of the volcanic islands which define the roiling Sea of Xulub. West of the Dziil range the climate is more temperate, so long as one remains in the middle regions, lush with warm tropics and cool rainforests. East of the peaks, things are not quite so lush, defined by broad prairies at best and searing flatland deserts at the worst, though these mercifully abate at the shores of the Sea of Gami, among the reedy wetlands where the fisher-tribes dwell. Ape-men and saurian are both in abundance out in the west, while enormous bison, aurochs, and other large mammals reserve the eastern plains to themselves, being hunted by the nomadic tribes there. Despite its relative shallow depth, the Sea of Gami is also full of life, including opportunistic super-predators who sailors must be wary of if they wish to journey across the full breadth of the ocean.

Tribal folk of Dziil tend towards dark or tanned skin, though with considerable variation, having strong and beautiful features much like their neighbors, though standing the tallest of all the folk in those lands surrounding the seas of Xulub and K’aino. They are survivalists and hunters, managing to stake out prominent territories throughout their rugged homeland, facing any foes with bravery in their hearts. Though fierce, they are not often ones to war with each other, though when they do it is most common among the eastern tribes. Out in the deserts and plains, many of the nomadic folk see an easy opportunity in raiding their neighbors rather than risking their own starvation. Those who have made it so far as Dziil from other lands – a feat in and of itself – have remarked upon the brutality with which the Dzillai greet intruders.

Seas:

Asra, the Great Blood Sea

One of the most important and well-traveled of the Seven Seas, and perhaps the most storied. It is Asra whose waters border the lands of Etlen Rugna, Fjallgarth, and the Ancient Lands of Sakha. These three lands conduct the most frequent wanderings over the Great Blood Sea, but the mingling waters of Asra also reach as far as the western shores of Batyr, and other lands besides. The Sakhan peoples named the great expanse “Asra” after the rich hue of the setting sun over its waves – it was only later that it became known for the numerous battles which took place across its waters. Though dotted with many islands and host to much travel between its three neighboring lands, the human tribes have also shed much blood upon the waves and lost even more to the jaws of hungering leviathans.

Caraka Sea

The Caraka is a jagged ocean which cuts the land of Noba Rugna from its northern sister of Etlen Rugna. Filtering into the southernmost waters of the Etlen Sea, as well as the western stretches of the Ocean of Tiham, it is a little-explored waterway save for a few of the daring coastal tribes of Noba Rugna. Its waters are warm, but its coasts are treacherous, and one may find themselves stranded on any number of islands if they cannot navigate the inlets of Noba Rugna, or worse – be swept out into the daunting expanse of Tiham.

Etlen Udra / Etlen Sea

To the west of Etlen Rugna lies is sister sea, Etlen Udra. Descending from the southern tip of Nunaat, across the fjords of Fjallgarth and down to the nameless ice at the bottom of the world, Etlen Udra is a stormy ocean of mystery and danger. Unknown to all but a few of the most legendary sailors to have ever journeyed out from the west, Etlen Udra is the path to the Leghen Alps, and even perhaps Dziil, Guarana Rugna, and Far Anpe besides. The Etlen Sea forms the great barrier between these lands and the continents about Asra. Yet within the very oldest stories of humankind does some inkling remain of this truth. Within Etlen Rugna, Guarana Rugna, and Noba Rugna are told stories of the Breaking, when once the fields and mountains stretched unbounded before the elder gods cleaved the Etlen Udra into the wilds, shattering the earth in twain. To the shaman-storytellers of Noba Rugna and Etlen Rugna, it is assumed the western lands sunk into the sea, while the peoples of Guarana Rugna likewise consider the east to be a distant myth.

Great Ocean of Kaiwa

The largest ocean in all the world, so massive that no human has ever comprehended its scale. None have ever crossed its breadth through sheer skill alone. The seafaring clans of the great ocean may journey about its many islands, but even they cannot say where all Kaiwa’s bounds lay. Likewise, unknown to even the wisest shamans, in elder times some hunter tribes of Siral’ik even managed to make the trek across the shattered ice to the north peaks of Dziil, but that way has long since been forgotten. Between Ar-Nung, Siral’ik, Dziil, and Anpe, and speckled with as many islands as there are stars in the sky, the mysteries of Kaiwa are as endless as its blue horizons and abyssal depths.

K’aino Udra / K’aino Sea

Descending down from the Sea of Xulub, the K’aino Udra separates Guarana Rugna from Anpe, and Anpe from Dziil. It is a warm ocean, though quite harsh, and brimming with dangerous creatures. Thick with life, it provides an endless bounty to those who fish along its shores, though crossing its expanse is no easy feat. Even if one avoids death by one of thousands of ravenous beasts large and small which prowl its waters, the many islands within the green waves are said to house hostile tribes of humans, lizardmen, and ape-men. Though all types of predators may be encountered amidst the waves of K’aino, the sea-serpents are the most renowned of all.

Ocean of Tiham

The largest of the eastern oceans, rolling over a great expanse between the south shores of Himaleh Vistra and Batyr, and the far and darkened beaches of Ar-Nung, as well as flanking the eastern edge of Noba Rugna. Tiham is host to many islands, most near to the coasts of its bordering continents. It is rather warm, though prone to storms, yet that has not stopped many seafaring tribes from taking advantage of its riches. Great leviathans may be found in its waters, as with many of the seas, though they are more prevalent about its interior where the abyss descends with sudden rapidity away from the shallow waters near to the broken, isle-flecked coasts. The very name of Tiham comes from the mythical ur-dragon said to dwell within its very deepest waters.

Sea of Gami

Splitting the great plains of western Leghen and eastern Dziil clean down the middle, there is the mighty interior seaway known as Gami, stretching from the ice-flats of the north down to drain at last into the Sea of Xulub. Shallow for the most part, it is not free of perils. Within its teeming waters are as many dangers as there are resources. Still, that has not stopped the native tribes upon both sides of the sea of making the most of it, and some peoples spend near their entire lives upon the waters. So long as one is well-versed in the craft of the waves and keeps a sharp eye out for anything bigger than a saltwater alligator or giant gar, it can be an outright pleasant life exploring Gami’s waters and all its tributaries.

Sea of Xulub / Devil Sea

One of the most terrifying yet enticing of all the world���s great waters, the Sea of Xulub, also known as the Devil Sea, lies where the Sea of Gami filters out between the Leghen Alps and Guarana Rugna, forming a hub between the waters of Gami, K’aino, and the Etlen Udra. It is a warm and tempestuous sea, with many reefs about its edges and many islands that dot its waves. Yet the center of Xulub is unfathomably deep, perhaps as deep as such abysses that can be found in Tiham and Kaiwa. Horrifying beasts lurk below the black waves, and none but the most skilled of seafaring tribes may brave its central waters. Still, the reefs and island chains which wreath the Devil Sea are among the most bountiful to be found, more colorful than Gami and fresher than K’aino, rich with valuable coral and mollusks and tropical fish. It is not uncommon for the tribesfolk of that region to make war over the valuable islands, and battles are far more frequent than among the other island-hopping tribes of reaches like Kaiwa.

Skathon Sea

The northern sea, the name given to all those waters beyond the reaches of Nunaat, Batyr, Siral’ik and the like where the great ice-flows crash together and icebergs roam like mammoth god-beasts. It is not the coldest ocean – the waters beneath Ar-Nung and off the southern tip of Anpe have that honor, but unlike those darkened waves, many people have actually explored the reaches of Skathon. Most of all the shipbuilders of Fjallgarth and Nunaat, who whale and raid among the icy flows just as much as traverse them on foot. Cold-blooded leviathans are predictably rare within Skathon, yet the whales and pinnipeds are more than titanic enough in size to still provide dangerous sport. Yet it is always the gnashing ice and frigid waters that make for the greatest danger of any who seek to traverse the Skathon reaches.

[trickster-4]

Chapter 3

“Ehhh?!”

There was no impact on the memory from Amity’s actions thankfully, but Luz blushed at the sight and the sudden phantom sensations of her friend’s fingers stroking nonexistent ears on her scalp. Amity then noticed that both Luz and her rabbit self’s legs were twitching.

”Oh right this is you...Sorry..” Amity blushed before stopping and looking to Luz who was also blushing..

“It’s fine it wasn’t that bad.. L-Let’s just focus on why we’re here...”

“Curse the nerve endings in these ears.. Why must Edalin much be so good at reaching them!!”

”A-Apparently these memories are very important to you..” Amity tried to not snicker at the idea of the lord of black magic being turned into a rabbit because of a bet... She failed badly and started laughing at the thought of him sayin-

“Fear me!!!”

Luz blushed wanting to crawl under a rock for a long while. Normally she could laugh this off as well, but for some reason it felt terrifying that Amity was seeing this..

“Oh.. Sorry Luz..”

”It’s fine and it is funny.. I’m actually thankful that it was this and less blood and war..”

Edalin snuggled the rabbit closer to her face enjoying the feeling of the soft fur.. She was not a mage so unfortunately the complaints of Shabragnido the lord of darkness were unheard by her.

”Wow I was an angry little ball of fluff...”

“I know..” Amity nodded in agreement.

“I’m torn between having you boiled alive and having you made as my high priestes- yes yes right there scratch my belly!!”

”So where’s the problem?” Luz questioned they then looked up at towards the black temple. A mysterious hooded men and women were watching the girl as she played with the rabbit.. “What are those guys doing..”

”It seems our lord favors the girl for his sacrifice.. I can his presence hovering over this girl..”

“Indeed strange.. We’ve rarely ever seen nonmagical sacrifices. Perhaps this will be a new trend?”

”No... They wouldn’t..” Luz looked with horrified eyes as guards began to approach the girl.. She began to shake as they took hold of the girl causing her to drop the rabbit..

”Wait what are you imbeciles doing her? Get away from her... What wait can’t you hear me?”

“Our lord Shabragnido will be pleased with this..”

“Give her back you idiots!!”

The rabbit feebly tried to stop the guards he gnawed on one of the guard’s shoe doing his best to slow them down. He was kicked into the wall it’s skull was shattered.. Though seconds later it repaired itself easily..

“Damn our bet Ceifeed..”

Dark energy began to form around the rabbit only for it recede forcibly into it’s body.. He saw the flames of his temple ignite Edalin would be sacrificed in five minutes.. He Shabragnido the god of darkness was stuck trapped as a damn rodent and he couldn’t even save a child..

It infuriated him how he had been trapped with the nonmagical orphaned child. How he had been forced to comfort her on those cold nights.. It hurt that he began to feel for her.. It hurt to hear how she dreamed of one day being a witch.. He couldn’t stand to be so close to her when he been responsible for her village’s death and her enslavement.

Shabragnido had never felt guilt.. The time he had been forced to live with her had changed him in a fundamental way.. His purpose from his creation was clear remorseless destruction.. Atlantis was merely the result of a misbegotten bet..

And... perhaps he enjoyed the attention and worship and the empire had produced more than a few competent servants.. But that was all it was a formality a business. He had only ever taken true joy at watching as mountains crumbled as the people burned.. Yet the thought of Edalin suffering that fate. Something about that infuriated him tore at him at the place where only hate should dwell..

A spell began to form a new one never to be uttered by human beings.. He called to his true nature to his inner self beyond his current form...

“Wrath given form hate given substance.. I call to the deepest void to the bound one who seeks to be free.. Let our hate be one and our path be united.. Grant me all your power so that the skies may burn and the world may darken.. Till all my enemies are made ash, Resigno!!”

The rabbit was suddenly swallowed up in a sphere of crimson magic. The mere flesh was consumed as the god of black magic took on his true dark majesty. The people around him were terrified some bowed and prostrated themselves before their War God.. He cared even less of such bootlicking today..

Luz and Amity followed Luz’s past self to the temple they waited to see what would happen.

“LET THE GIRL GO!!”

The temple shook as his voice boomed.. There was silent whimpering that he could hear from his priests.. But there no one brave enough to him the truth the ceremony was over the girl was already dead.

He suddenly realized that he couldn’t sense Edalin’s lifeforce.. She was dead.. Shabragnido broke into his astral form before taking on a human form in the temple.. The girls followed quickly Luz’s eyes watered at the tragedy taking place and Amity tried her best to comfort her.. The head priestess recognized his appearance. He stood there for a moment standing in front of her body.. For once the blood that was spilled made him nauseous and infuriated him.

“Lord Shabranigdo I-“

Shabragnido watched with a cold satisfaction as the two priests who chose Edalin began to age. There was another priest holding the bloodied knife that had ended Edalin’s life he too suffered the same curse. They screamed and cried out for mercy until they became dust. Moments later the room was filled with silence after sometime the high priestess spoke.

“My lord..”

“Get out of the temple..”

“My lord?”

“Get out of the temple as of this moment you and the other priests are banished.. For the sake of years of good service I tell you this and you are to tell no one outside the priesthood and their families.. Leave Atlantis tonight.. I am going to burn this entire city to the ground.. As tribute to the forbidden mother…”

Her eyes widened at the breaking of the taboo. The mother of their patron gods was never to be mentioned on pain of utter annihilation. She was rumored to be more capricious and cruel than even Lord Shabragnido.

“I see… I wish you luck..”

The priestess and her servants followed them out of the sacrificial chambers.. He was alone now.

“It wouldn’t help.. Nothing sways her but entertainment.. Listen well mother my offer to you is this. I know you created me and Ceifeed to hate and kill each other.. I went against my purpose.. I bargained with him.. I will destroy this place that must offend you.. I will become your heartless destroyer.. And in return for these things I ask for one thing let Edalin live again and let her have her dreams..

Edalin’s body began to disappear into a golden mist a relief went through his chest.. A sign that his mother had taken his offer. Shabragnido got up and went forth becoming with each step the monster he was always meant to be. She would live once more though Atlantis would have to burn…

Moments later Luz and Amity watched as the temple came apart. In the sky Ceifeed and Shabragnido battled each other viscously. The gods tore into each other’s form’s with blue and crimson spells.. They stared at the carnage the gods wrought on the city they had given life to. The very patrons who had given these people wealth and magic were now destroying the very empire they had created.

Centuries of human progress, magical research, was being undone. The blasts from the two gods destroyed numerous buildings more than a few archmages attempted to protect their people to various levels of success.. All this because Shabragnido cared for one child..

“Shabragnido you are destroying everything we spent centuries building… Have you gone completely mad?!! It was tragedy what happened here and I had no intention to cause such a pain to you brother, but your “deal” with mother is insane..” The Azure dragon glared at his crimson brother. He would not budge in this matter his brother had to be stopped..

“Shut up you idiot your words tire me..”

You suffered deeply brother you lost a daughter.. I empathize with you… But I cannot let you give more grief to these children.. They were struggling to survive before our influence.. Before our Empire they had nothing. If you succeeded today they will be tossed back into the void with nothing..”

“I don’t give a damn.. Atlantis will fall..”

A sphere formed within Shabragnido’s hands a spell of immense destructive force gathers in seconds. “No!!” Luz finally screamed out.. “ Edalin wouldn’t want this please you have to stop this!!” Amity could only watch silently in horror as Shabragnido destroyed Atlantis…

The memories began to shift as they now stood in the ruins of Atlantis a mere shadow of itself.. Something wasn’t right Luz and Amity looked around sharing similar thoughts. Shabragnido kneeled bound by numerous spells and priestess.. Ceifeed was dying… In body and soul.. Still he had enough power to do this… He couldn’t kill Shabragnido too much of his power and strength had waned…

“Just do it..”

“Good bye brother..”

Luz and Amity both flinched at the sight as her past self was divided into seven pieces.. Those fragments became crimson energy that faded into nothing.. Ceifeed sighed tiredly. His priests and servants quickly approached him.

“My lord what will happen?”

“He will reincarnate one day after each of the fragments had passed with their human hosts through the cycle of reincarnation… I believe he will be a better leader next time..”

“My lord he killed countless people..”

“For the sake of the only person he ever truly cared for.. As a being of pure negative emotion that is a lot of progress.. I am certain the commingling with humans will balance out his hatred with love, compassion, and.. humanity.. I am dying Elaine..” Ceifeed began to cough as his body began to dissolve into pure azure magic. “Swear to me that you will care for Edalin as your own.. As I recall she shows much promise in black magic.. In fact I hear she is a prodigy..”

“Yes.. She is..”

“Good bye Elaine take care of her…”

“…..” Luz stood there for a while exhausted and mentally drained at the revelations she just experienced. Amity was also widened eyed at what she’d learned.. Apparently her crush destroyed Atlantis. That was a lot to take in.. The most advanced civilization was gone because of her.. Yet Amity saw that Luz was still the same person. These tragedies only showed her compassion and how different Luz was from her old self...

“Luz..”

“Yeah Amity?”

“You may share memories with Shabragnido.. You may have his powers and you may even share feelings on a number of things.. You may even share the same soul… But you aren’t that person..” Amity held Luz’s shoulder softly. “His actions aren’t yours and yours aren’t his.. This wasn’t your fault and when given the chance to kill you chose something better.. You’re not that version of yourself anymore. That Shabragnido died a long time ago.. Once we deal with these memories please let them rest..”

“Amity…” Luz’s eyes lit up and she slowly smiled..

“When we first met.. I was a different person.. Arrogant, Prideful, and reaally Insecure..” Amity blushed as she mentioned her past flaws but smiled as she saw Luz was close to giggling. “I grew and I changed I made amends.. It’s not the same.. But, even if you’re the same person this version of you isn’t responsible for what happened you’re kind, warm, and really outgoing for a dark lord..”

“Amity!!” Luz complained sarcastically, then smiled and laughed..

“You’re a different person Luz.. please give yourself some credit..”

Luz hugged Amity tightly causing her to blush. The two decided to enjoy that embrace for a while.. Moments later the scenery changed around them.. They now stood in a nice home filled with the smell of cooking fish.

“Edalin..” Elaine called to her adopted daughter a young spunky curious redhead girl.. She smiled at the sight of the girl creating a flame with ease. “Come now child it’s time for bed. You’ll have plenty of time to learn more magic tomorrow.”

“Yeah..”

“Remember Edalin. You’re a Clawthorne.. No matter what anyone says..” Elaine kissed her daughter’s forehead and gave her a tight hug… “Have a good night little owl..”

Moments later Luz and Amity found themselves back in Luz’s mind outside of her memories.. They stood there quiet speechless of about what they had just witnessed.. After a few minutes Amity finally spoke up. “Wow..”

[jawsandbones]

The Evening Red - Chapter Eight

Rating: E

Summary: The blighted plague at your feet, and ghosts at your bedside. Those things that go bump in the night? They follow behind you. If only you had someone to protect you. A late-Victorian era re-imagining of Dragon Age Origins.

Pairing: Zevran x Female Warden

AO3 Link: Click Here

Chapter Eight: Chasing Footprints

It is as though stepping through to another world. The sounds of the city dull and fade, disappearing completely once the door closes behind her. She holds tight to her evening clutch, her footsteps softened by the carpet underneath her feet. The concierge is at his desk, speaking with a warm smile to a young couple. Two behind the main desk, one handing keys to an older gentlemen. Her eyes scan the room quickly, and she makes her way towards the lounge. He has both elbows on the armrest, his legs crossed. He is wholly absorbed on the newspaper, almost to the point where she can see him reading every word.

She steps beside him, leans against his chair, and tilts her head to read the paper. She takes the gloves from her hands, and holds them in one. With the other, she curls a strand of his hair around her finger. She’s immediately drawn towards the headline of the main article. Where is King Cailan? His absence is noted. The cause being published is not long away now. When it is, it will take the blight from some easily dismissed sickness and elevate it. There’s already a low thrum of anxiety. Cailan’s illness would shift it into panic. “They are still turning away Ms. Aequitar?” Zevran asks, taking her hand from his hair, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. He keeps his hand in hers, her hand against his cheek, leaning against it as he finishes reading.

“They’ve learned that turning her away only means she’ll come back. They’ve stopped telling her to leave, so she’s simply made herself at home,” Noya says. He chuckles under his breath, folds the paper, casts it onto the small table beside them. Another kiss, to her knuckles, and he moves to his feet. The shell of her ears are burning, cold still from the bite of winter. She can feel its kiss in her fingertips, her nose, and in the frost around the edges of her lungs. He’s dressed smartly, in one of his best suits. His hair dusts his shoulders, while the longer strands are pulled back from his face and knotted once at the back.

He puts a finger underneath her chin, his thumb against her lips, and slowly lets the two meet. “Good evening, Miss Mahariel,” he says in a low voice.

“Good evening, Mr. Arainai,” she says. A smile flickers on his lips at her reply.

“I see the snow has not yet let up,” he says, spying the still melting flakes on her long coat and gently brushing them away, before letting his hand fall back to his side.

“No doubt it will go all night,” she says as she slips her arm into his offered one, and so linked, he guides her to the dining area. Built near the Denerim railway station, the Grand Old Pearl is not a place she would have set foot inside if not for him. Her coat is practically swept from her shoulders, her gloves taken and folded, her hat neatly layered with it, all to be collected after their dinner.

She’s unable to keep herself from looking at the high arched ceiling. There’s beauty in the mad details, the carved steps which lead to intricately painted patterns. Knotted flowers at the top of long pillars, which run down to marble floors. Perfectly cut and placed, and as she walks behind the waiter, she avoids the cracks between the slabs without realizing it. Great mirrors hang between tall windows, reflect many of Denerim’s denizens at the tail end of their dinner. Her footsteps are muffled in the crowded room, lost in the slow roll of conversation, laughter and heavy utensils tapping at fine china.

Candles flicker at the middle of each table, encased in stenciled glass. A few hanging chandeliers, standing candelabras… such a soft, intimate glow as Zevran helps push in Noya’s chair for her. Perfectly polished silverware surrounds her plate, and she only half listens to him giving their order to the waiter. On impulse, she pushes at the base of the nearest fork. It tilts from the straight line of its brothers, filled with her little bit of chaos in all that order. “I was surprised at your suggestion to dine together here,” she says, her hand falling to her lap.

“Ah, yes,” Zevran says, “I do find human food rather foul, but some exceptions can be made for exceedingly special company.”

“I’m already here, Zevran. You don’t need to flatter me,” she says.

“But I enjoy flattering you. And you? Do you dislike being flattered?” The smile plays about her lips as she leans back in her chair, the simple earrings she wears bouncing against the edge of her jaw.

“No, I don’t dislike it,” she says. She turns to look at the rest of the guests, this pack of people. There are so many with gold about their necks, their fingers, lushly woven into their very gowns. Rouge massaged into their cheeks, a stain of color about their lips. Silk gloves underneath all the rings and bracelets, perching precariously at their upper arms. Zevran curiously turns his head in the same direction.

“Are we evaluating the other guests, my dear? Some of them are quite overdone. Stuffed chickens in finery. What they will do to snatch at the briefest bit of beauty.” He leans speaks in a low voice, mischief glinting in amber eyes as he looks back at her.

“Oh?”

“There is of course, the race,” he says in almost a hush, some secret to be kept between them and only them. Indulging, she leans forward as well, the corners of her lips upturned. “You must be at the head of a trend, or even better, create the trend itself. The lengths one will go to do so?” He shakes his head, entirely amused at whatever rush of memories flood through him.

“Tell me,” she says, letting her hand rest on the table, fingertips pressed against his elbow.

“There is, of course, their brief obsession with atropa belladonna,” he says. She tilts her head, the silent question, and he breaks into a smile. “Deadly nightshade. They would put a single drop into their eye, and it would feign sexual excitement. They believed it made them more seductive. They slowly blinded and poisoned themselves in order to win this race,” he says. “Taken differently? Some quite vivid hallucinations.”

“You sound as though you speak from experience.”

“Of course. I try everything at least once,” he says, giving her a small wink. While they are merely beginning their dinner, the others are finishing. As their food is wheeled in a small silver cart, tables are emptying. Zevran stands the moment the cart is by their table, reaching for the utensils the waiter holds.

“I will serve, if you do not mind,” he says.

“At your pleasure, serah,” the waiter says with a small bow, before leaving them to it.

“I am jealous of your company,” Zevran says as he begins to cut into the chicken, steam licking upwards once it’s split in two. “This also keeps them out of our business, hmm?” He fills her plate with food – maple glazed chicken breast, fresh green beans, filled baked potatoes… it almost seems endless. Things she would have never thought to make for herself, but has them served before her.

Zevran pops the cork from the bottle with a simple flick, and fills her wine glass. As he sits, he takes the flask from his inner jacket pocket, mimes a shushing motion at her as he fills his own glass. This wine is much darker, thicker, and far more fragrant for him than it is for her. He has filled his plate with some scraps of food, works at them with his fork and knife as they speak. “I have been meaning to ask you, and yet I have not found the perfect moment. I have resigned myself to the fact that there is no such thing, and so I will merely ask. You. A coroner. Why?” He asks, taking a sip from his glass. He savors the blood on his tongue, swallows deeply, and licks the evidence from his lips.

“Tamlen used to say it’s because I’m simply ghoulish,” she says, taking a bite of her own food.

“That is – your friend, yes? The one who is ill,” Zevran says, leaning back as he listens, his eyes never leaving her.

“Yes,” she says with a nod, her fork balanced delicately between her fingers, “but it’s more practical than he thinks. There are so many things about the body we don’t know, so many things we do wrong. We can find the answers in the unfortunate dead.”

“And this is healthy? To surround yourself with these dead?”

“Just as a blade needs a whetstone or a mind a book, so does life need death. It’s what makes it lively. Considering death, contemplating what it would be like to go to sleep and never wake up, centers me. It’s a gloomy thing for contemplation, but just as crops need manure, it’s fertilization for life. It helps guide me to myself,” she says.

“Some would think to find their guide, their self, in the Chantry.”

“It’s cheating, isn’t it?”

“The Chantry? Cheating?” Zevran smiles over his wine glass, firelight reflected in the warm amber of his eyes. There are only a few others left, in their corners the same as them, stealing every moment they can together. She settles her fork at the edge of her plate as she takes her own drink, clears her throat with it.

“I would like to be clear that I don’t begrudge someone finding their self in the Chantry. For me, I – we are flawed people trying to improve our flaws, but the Chantry tells us to simply believe in the Maker and your flaws are irrelevant. Then where is the motivation to be better? What about now? I do not know if it’s the Creators, the Maker or nothingness awaiting me, but I’ll do what I can with what I have.”

“So cutting open cold bodies and taking out their insides to study them help you to be a more complete person.”

“Essentially.”

“If you found that, one day, you were afflicted with eternal life. What would you then?”

“I don’t know Zevran, what do you do?” She asks, raising an eyebrow. He huffs, some, beaten, and they take a sip of their own respective drinks at the same time. She puts the glass down on the table, the swirling liquid contained within swaying slightly. Her fingertips tap at the bowl of it, settle at the base, turn it slightly. “Everyone searches for a meaning to life, forgetting that the answer is to simply be alive.”

“It is easy for mortals to say such a thing,” Zevran says, a sigh following quickly after his statement. The food on his plate has been cut and cut again, pushed around together, looking as though they’re leftovers of a well-deserved dinner. “But forgive me, I pushed us astray from our original topic. Did you know I know something of autopsies? My knowledge may be a few decades old, but…”

“When did you have experience with autopsies?” She asks, plunging her fork through the soft beans.

“It’s a rather gruesome story, my dear, it may stifle your appetite.”

“Zevran.”

“You are merciless! One day I shall find a topic that shocks you.”

“Doubtful.”

“You know a challenge only motivates me even further,” he says. The wide smile spreads across his face, and like this, Zevran can’t hide the fangs which have grown from the mere taste of blood. With the others so deeply invested in each other, their food, he shows no fear in showing himself. Unflinching, she smiles back.

“Now, my story. As you say, there are many mysteries with the body. The Orlesians are so proud of themselves, with their fancy tower and gilded halls, but when their science fails, they will always fall back onto the mysteries. One poor man had his wife die from tuberculosis. One after the other, his children began to fall ill after her. When only one was left, the man had lost his faith in the sciences. Superstition came knocking. A wandering merchant told him that his misfortunes were because one of his fallen family members were feeding on the rest. In short, the merchant told him a vampire was killing his family,” he speaks remarkably calmly, amicably.

“This was untrue, but he did not know this. He was simply a desperate man, searching for a solution. So, he implored this world-wandering merchant to divulge his secrets. How could he drive away this vampire and save his only son? A noble cause. A less noble outcome. The merchant told him that one of his dearly departed was now infested with a malevolent and violent spirit. It would climb out of its grave, and drain the life from him and his son. To purge this spirit, the body must be dug up. If it is not decayed and still possesses signs of life, then that is the vampire,” he wets his throat with a few long sips.

“So the man dug up the grave of his wife, and opened her coffin and found only bones. He dug up the grave of his oldest daughter, and found the same. Yet, with his youngest daughter, they found her skin was still colored pink, her organs intact, and decay had not yet reached out its finger and touched her. They exhumed the body, removed the heart, and burned it on a pyre. To cast away the unwelcome spirit for good, you see. The man thought his troubles were over. As if a miracle, his son began showing signs of recovery. Of course, this was a false hope. Tuberculosis took his son, and then came for him, all while being ostracized by his community for desecrating the graves of his family,” he says. The knot is firmly stitched between Noya’s brows, her lips downturned.

“What a sad story,” she says. “All of it doesn’t explain how you were involved, though.”

“Ah, I happened to be staying in the town. So I was involved through the community, not directly, rest assured. I did tell him that it would accomplish nothing and warned him not to disturb those resting. Alas.” He shrugs, moves his fork from side to side, a flayed piece of chicken moving with it.

“He only wanted to save his family,” she says.

“What a thing is life, and oh what we do to keep it,” he says, finally giving up and dropping the fork completely. They are alone now, the candles on other tables being extinguished one by one by a waiter.

“It’s strange. Before I knew of,” she lowers her voice, “witches and vampires, I thought myself a fairly logical person.” She clears her throat, allows herself to speak normally. “Now, however, knowing what I know and with Tamlen the way he is… I could see myself frantically reaching for a far-off and superstitious solution, just as he did. What part will you play then?”

“My hope is for a cure before we get to that part, hmm?”

“You would have liked him. He would be a good person to remember, and to carry with –”

“You speak as if we are already past this hope. We are not. A cure will be found and then we can have many an awkward introduction, yes?” He downs the last of what’s in his glass, then pours some of the wine into the glass. He swirls it, lets the wine find every last drop of blood. He downs it as though it’s a shot of vile alcohol, makes a horrible face afterwards, and a shudder passes through him. “Disgusting.” Spoken under his breath, more for him than for anyone else. He quickly shakes it off, smiles when he looks back at her.

“Now, I am dying to show you the room. In my tour of every hotel Denerim has to offer, this is by far the most comfortable. Also the most expensive, but that is,” he makes a dismissive waving motion with his hand. Then, he puts both palms against the table and stands, leaning over it to whisper to her, “The bed is quite something. Soft, yet firm, perfect for –”  

“You’re incorrigible.” Her words slice through his, entirely amused.

“Ah, yes, but can you blame me?” He moves around the table, holds out his hand for her. She gratefully takes it, and the moment they’re walking away from their seats a waiter is already handing her back her things. They walk slowly in the great silence of the hotel. Hardly anyone seeking lodging so late at night, and the train isn’t due until first light. Strange city lights flicker against the snow covered windows in the hallway, while the pattern of the carpet twists and turns beneath their feet. Portraits and paintings cover the walls, poor imitations of greater works. They depict no place particularly real, no person of relevance. It has no past, no future, simply exists in this place. Just as they all are.

Zevran pulls the key from his pocket, opens the door and flicks the switch for the lights. They slowly hum to life, growing brighter until settling onto something of a warm quality. Zevran shrugs the jacket from his shoulders, throws it over the end of the bed. True to his word, it is fine. As he bends down before the fireplace, matches in hand, she lets her fingers run over the bedspread. One of the softest things she’s ever felt. She moves to a nearby dresser, opens one of the drawers and finds it empty. All the rest are the same, save for the small book in one of the nightstands. The Chant, of course. She circles the entirety of the room, makes her way over to him.

Zevran stands near the fireplace, his arms crossed, admiring his success. It burns with fierce intensity, spreads quickly over the stack of wood. Noya lets her hands move over his shoulders, down his back. She wraps an arm around his waist, the other walking fingertips to the nape of his neck. She pulls his hair away, presses her lips against his skin. He lets a hand rest over hers, with that one with palm pressed against his chest, and keeps her close. Her chest against his back, and she moves slowly, touch drifting over his Adam’s apple. A shiver runs down his spine as she moves her tongue over the shell of his ear, murmurs his name. He can feel her breath touch him, prickling and delicate.

“Now who is the incorrigible one?” He asks, the flush settling deep in his cheeks, biting his bottom lip as she begins to unbutton his vest.

“I’m just impatient,” she says. He chuckles, closes his eyes, and tips his head back. They sway together, his head leaning against hers, as she begins to undo the buttons of his shirt. One by one they give way under deft fingers. She slides her hand into the opening she’s created, touches skin against skin. There is a certain cold quality to him, but that’s swept away by the easy warmth of his personality. Her fingers tap down, curl against the soft wisps of blonde hair at his naval, and she’s only stopped by his hand around her wrist.

“Impatient indeed,” he says, opening his eyes and turning to face her.

“I know what I find pleasurable. What’s the point in delaying it?” She asks. He laughs fleetingly, and puts his hand at the nape of her neck. He draws her close, his other hand at the small of her back, keeping their bodies pressed against each other. He presses his forehead against hers before he speaks.

“There is pleasure in the delay, if done properly,” he tells her. Dutifully, she stands, as he begins to undress her. One by one, garments fall to the floor around her. Her shirts, her shift, her corset… all of her unmasked, naked. He stands back, to look at her, admire her. Down the center of her chest, from the goblet of her throat to her bellybutton, is an ornate and stylized tattoo of an arrow. The triangle head sits at her chest, rising and falling with each breath. Dalish, close to her heart.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs as he steps forward, hands light on her hips. “Beautiful,” he repeats, his touch drifting firmly upwards, rolling into a fist, his knuckles moving over the line of the arrow. He brushes away the stray strands of hair which fall from her up-do, and they fall over her shoulder. He cups a breast in her hand as she tilts her face away from his, and he peppers her neck in long, slow kisses. She can feel his tongue moving against her, the barest scrape of fanged teeth against skin. She closes her eyes as she drapes her arms over his shoulders, fidgeting fingers knotting in his shirt.

He rolls her breast in his hand, pinches her nipple between two careful fingers. His other hand presses at her back, between her shoulder blades, holding her steady. His eyes shine when he resurfaces, and his touch moves from her breast to the arrowhead. She opens her eyes, allows herself to be walked backwards until her thighs touch the bed. Even still he keeps that pressure until she falls upon it, propping herself up onto her elbows, the mattress sinking underneath her weight. His eyes leave hers, begin to roam her body. Wherever his eyes go, his hands are sure to follow.

Over her breasts, of course. A playful tease of her nipple before he goes. Steady touch at her ribs, over the curve of her, holding tightly at her hips. Back up again, the way he came, and down. He reaches, grabs, touches all that he can, all wrapped up in something needy. He deliberately avoids her thighs, her cunt. His shirt unbuttoned, it splits in the center, reveals dark olive skin, the darker swirl of tattoos he takes no care to hide. Something he cannot hide is his cock, straining painfully against the confines of his trousers.

He grabs hold of her legs, spreads them for him. Then he pulls her forward, until she’s at the very edge of the bed. He leans over her, and the path he blazed with his hands he now follows with his mouth. From collarbone to rib, kisses that cover the entirety of her vallaslin. He lingers at her breast, his tongue swirling around her nipple. He sucks at it, lets it fall free with a vulgar pop, only to kiss at it again, his hand massaging underneath. All of this, and yet not one touch at what she desperately wants him to. She locks her legs around his waist, angles to pull herself closer, begins to reach between them for the clasps of his trousers.

“Impatience, impatience indeed,” he says good-naturedly, followed by a brisk tsk tsk. He snatches her wanting hands before they can meet their goal. She watches him sink to his knees, and he cautiously lets go of her hands. She props herself back up onto her elbows, and assured she won’t try anything, Zevran smiles and leans his head against her thigh. She still has one leg loosely wrapped around him. The heel of the other is perched on the thin bed frame which holds the mattress.

“Lie back. Yes, all the way. Close your eyes, I – yes, I’m serious, now close them – dream of whatever you like, whoever you like, but know that I am the one doing this to you.” She follows his instruction. She lies back on the bed, her hands draped over closed eyes and waits. And waits. And waits. She can feel his nose moving at her thigh. His steady breathing against her skin. His hands move lightly up and down her leg, gooseflesh following quickly. It’s almost a relief when he kisses her at the absolute center of her inner thigh.

The bite is quick, not painless, but not without pleasure. A momentary cry as he sinks his fangs into tender flesh, but it’s erased by the following shudder that works its way through her body. Imagine anyone you like, he said, but how could she picture anyone but him? He heaves a long and satisfied sigh when he pulls away, but that’s a brief thing. He laps at the still leaking marks on her thigh, begins to kiss down closer to her cunt. The ache builds in her belly, the fierce knot which pulses through her, and she slips a hand down over her own body, moving to give herself relief.

“No cheating, my dear,” he says, catching her wrist, pulling up her hand. He buries his face against her palm, kisses at the middle of it, then sucks two fingers in his mouth. Then, he sits up slightly to let his own hand caress her face. “Return the favor.” Two fingers press at her lips. She does the same as him, tongue swirling around them. It barely needs to be done. When he touches those two fingers at her cunt, he finds it already dripping wet for him.

He moves his fingers through the folds of her, puts pressure on her clit from either side. Her leg trembles on the frame. The other he holds steady. He runs his tongue over the entire length of her, again and again. A maddeningly simple thing, and she grinds her hips against his mouth. He folds an arm down over her hips, keeps her still. As her hands begin to clench in the bedsheets, he finally presses a single finger inside of her. Barely. Teasing at her entrance, in and out, in and out again, as he sucks at her clit. His tongue flicks back and forth over the most sensitive part of her, until he suddenly dives, replaces his finger with his tongue. She gasps, her eyes snapping open.

“Zevran, you –” He eats as though he’s not seen a proper meal in a year and a day. His holding arm now moves, allowing her to move her hips freely, as he reaches up to pinch her nipple between his fingers. Her hands fist in the sheets, her only anchor in wild waves. He keeps a steady and unrelenting place. Her body moves underneath him, but never pulls away. Her back begins to arch, both her legs trembling. Her eyes squeeze close at the same time her mouth falls open, straining with the cry. On this dangerous cusp, he pulls away, stands. He tears furiously at the buttons of his trousers, pulling out his cock, and taking himself in hand.

His cock twitches almost angrily, thankful to be free, the head of him leaking with long held desire. Before she has a moment to breathe, to mourn the loss of his mouth, it’s replaced by his cock, sliding in swift and deep. He keeps a firm grasp on her hips as he buries himself up to the hilt in one movement. She gasps, groans, writhes and reaches for him. She barely touches at his shoulders, but still it pulls him forward, lost in the feeling of her. His eyes are closed, his hips moving in a steady rhythm, a bead of sweat at his temple. There’s a wistful knot between his brows, reaching desperately for a place they can only find together.

He’s broken out of the spell by her suddenly moving, his cock slipping from her dripping cunt. One foot planted against the floor, she turns, her knee on the edge of the bed, pulling a pillow from its place to underneath her. Never one to turn down an invitation, Zevran aligns the head of him with her entrance, letting loose a guttural moan as he moves inside of her once again. They fuck together – her, moving her hips back against his, while he lets her waves crash against him. Linked in one single purpose, all other things fall away.

He hunches over her, his thoughts swimming, trying to keep a balance and a rhythm. His eyes close as his hair falls free of its knot, tickles against her back. She has her eyes closed, the pillow bunched beneath her, an unworthy buoy. “Don’t stop,” she says, her head against the mattress, eyes opening as she looks behind her as best she can, at him. “Please don’t stop, I’m close, I’m close, I’m so…” Her words trail away, lost in the effort of breathing, while Zevran grits his teeth together. His fingertips bruise into her hips, and what a relief it is to feel her suddenly shudder, sigh, her cunt clenching around his cock.

They collapse together, breathlessly, Zevran simply letting himself fall beside her. She rolls over, his arm underneath her neck, and rests her hand on his chest. He’s struggling to get his breathing in check, while she simply allows herself to drown in what sensations remain. “Tell me about one of the interesting people you’ve met,” she mumbles, curling closer, her head in the crook of his neck.

“Right now?” Only one of his eyes opens to look at her, but with the way she is, he can’t tell if her eyes are open. He hears her chuckle, feels a small nod.

“Right now,” she says.

“Ah… let us see…” His every memory is in disarray. What thoughts float through his head, he cannot quite catch them. He was sure he had someone to start with, but shaken so, he can only conjure one. “I once knew a prince who was thought to be the most beautiful, most striking. It was said that there were none who could resist him, and that all who came to see him gave him everything he asked for and more.”

“Was this beautiful prince you?” she asks.

“No,” he laughs, “but you flatter me. Where was I? Ah, yes. So, his visitors would shower him in unimaginable wealth, although he never asked for this. He only ever asked for one thing.”

“Mhmm?”

“Their most terrible secret. They would always tell him, or so it was said. I went to see him when I heard the tales, as I could not resist. An attractive man swindling the secrets from the rich of the world? Say no more.” Noya chuckles into his chest. “There was barely a line to see him. I think others were too afraid. They do not want to give up their secrets, yes?”

“And were the stories true? Was he as beautiful as they said?”

“Even more so. I knew on sight that the one who sat before me was no ordinary man, but something far more obscure, although he did not look it. Now, I tell you the reason why they would give him such wealth. This prince could see the moment of one’s death. He could tell the others when, and the manner in which they would die. The riches were bribes, in a hope that he could delay their deaths. Unfortunately for them, he could not. Still, you cannot fault them for trying.”

“Did you give up your secret?”

“I did, and then he told me that my death had already come and gone. He could no longer see anything for me,” Zevran says, one arm wrapped around her to hold her, while the other moves over her knuckles as he speaks.

“How lovely,” she says, stifling the yawn against him.

“Lovely?”

“Mhmm. You have a blank slate. You’re not bound by any fate, or future. You’re free,” she says.

“I – I did not think of it this way before,” he says. “I had considered it the opposite. Trapped.”

“I need to get up and wash,” she says, “but I’d rather fall asleep here.” He looks at the creature in his arms. Her hair has been thoroughly disheveled, pulled from the delicate up-do. She breathes through her mouth, her eyes closed, completely at ease. She is – well, how many years had it been since he’d associated with someone for so long? How long had he stayed in one single place – Denerim has seen more of him recently than any other place.

“Wash, my dear. Then there is something I wish to show you, unless you are too tired.” Noya smiles, her eyes still half closed as she pushes herself up to look at Zevran.

“You’ve already ruined my sleep schedule quite thoroughly,” she tells him. He can’t help but laugh, puts a hand against her cheek.

“I suppose I have. You will be unintentionally living nocturnally soon,” he says. That one arm still around her, he slips the other underneath her legs. He lifts her with ease, walks to the washroom. He sits her on the counter, for now, takes the hotel robe from its hook and drapes it over her. He turns the taps, tests the temperature, then goes to stand near her. She leans against him, head against his shoulder, and allows herself to lazily rest as the bath fills.

They make quick work of it, no matter how much they both long to simply be in the water. He gets out first, wraps the towel around his waist and pulls the nearby stool closer. While she sits in the cooling water, fingers pressing at the small marks on her thigh, he gently brushes the knots from her long hair and helps her dry it. He winds it all into a single braid, curls it in place at the back of her head. They dress together, Zevran pulling his clothes from one of the many suitcases by the bed. He takes a parasol with them when they go.

They walk together, Zevran holding the parasol between them. Noya stretches out her hand, away from the edge of the parasol, watches as snow lands and melts on her glove. There is naught but silence now, lost in the muffled layer of snow, and their footprints are the first to wear a path. “I must confess, I have been to Denerim before. Many times, although I did not stay quite as long. It used to be, ahhh, one of my safe places. I have more now, in many different cities around the world,” he says as they walk to the royal quarter. Houses are more spaced out here, no need to cram workers together as if they were a pack of rats.

He stops outside of one rusted over gate, dead vines curling around each bar. He breaks the lock around the gate with a simple tug, and pushes open the gate. “I have not been here in ages. I have had it passing through – my family line?” He winks at her as they stroll up to the front. “From one Zevran Arainai to the next.” He stops in plain view of it. A large free-standing estate, dark, with the windows boarded. “It will need work, yes, and perhaps that is one reason I have been staying at hotels.”

“Still, it is a place your superiors and the crown do not know about. I am not without wealth. I have connections with smugglers as well. We are running out of time for Ms. Aequitar’s petitions, are we not? And I do want to meet your Tamlen,” Zevran says, and her gaze slowly shifts from the estate to him. “There is surely space for whatever materials you and the others need to make a cure for the blight.” She’s wordless in this. Speechless. Her arm slips from his as she stands in front of him. She puts a hand at the name of his neck and pulls him in close.

She holds him firm in the hug, so much so that he’s practically missing himself entirely with the parasol. Snow falls softly onto his back. “Zevran,” she says in a hoarse voice and somehow holds him tighter, “thank you.” She squeezes, and he smiles. He can practically feel her heavy heartbeat through their ribs, their clothes.

“You are very welcome,” he says. “There is space for everyone, if you wish them to stay. I know you still have some still forcefully relocated. I do not think the blighted would dare attack you here, and then, I will be with you.”

“Are you sure you’re alright with all of us staying here? With you? I know you have your reservations.”

“I do. Alas, I am a slave to your whims. From what I have seen, they are good people, and you vouch for them. That is enough,” he says.

“Zevran, I – ”

“I say it is enough and yet she continues to protest! I am terrified if not even this can satisfy you,” he says. “I would love to continue standing here, but the sun is beginning to rise.” Noya slowly loosens the hug to look over her shoulder, at the threads of light starting to weave across the sky.

“Then we should head back,” she says.

It’s almost the same as when they were walking in the other direction. Now, heading back into Denerim proper, the city has begun to wake. Theirs are no longer the only ones in the snow. It hits her, suddenly, as they cross the street. A particular feeling, as though snow had been dropped down her back, gooseflesh from head to toe. At least, this time, there’s someone with her. Zevran suddenly stiffens, looks down a certain alley. He at least attempts to be unbothered, with a simple, “may we head in that direction for a moment? There is something I am curious about,” and a smile, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

He drops the smile completely as they make their way down the alley, Zevran leading the way. He holds Noya’s hand tight in his. An abandoned place, they listen to the echo of laughter from distant open windows, chatter from the houses nearby. Breath fogs around her mouth, clouds around her head. The shadows shift with each step, mocking imitations of people upon the wall. It eventually leads into a courtyard, with a snow covered bench and a single dead tree at its center. In the wind, a piece of parchment flutters, tied to the tree with red string. She’s at his side as he takes it, and it’s easy to read the words written upon it.

It’s so good to see you again Zevran.

-          T.

[diamondnokouzai]

naruto generation ship au

narutos dad was the previous captain of the ship. he died when the nuclear reactor that functions as the ships engine went into meltdown, and the only way for him to fix the meltdown was to go into the center of the radiation and vent it out through the airlock, along with him. kushina also died there because she was one of the main technicians who worked on the reactor

also fuuinjutsu is analogous to being specialists in fixing the reactor now

rest is under the cut cause i got excited

naruto is so reviled because he survived the reactor meltdown, mostly because he survived the reactor meltdown, which killed about 1/8th of the ship’s population. he survived with some use of prostheses, including a nuclear battery/pacemaker working as his heart. he also has a much higher tolerance for radiation naturally so he used to spend a lot of time down by the reactor, which was the only place he could get some peace and quiet

chakra is analogous to having a high tolerance for nuclear radiation

also uzushio was a separate generation ship that docked on konoha permanently after sustaining near total fatalities due to an attack from space pirates ill say

also space pirates are just disenfranchised explorers who were trying to find a better life, but couldnt get admission onto a generation ship, because still fuck the hidden villages

in terms of the uchiha, theyre all highly resistant to nuclear radiation. however their two responsibilities on the ship are to keep the ships engine running properly & guarding against space pirates. in terms of that, spending hundreds of years, fucking with something highly radioactive and dancing in space, is generally genetically super frowned upon. its affected their family genes to the point where uchiha are far more susceptible to trauma and tend to manifest red irises with atypical pupils if too many stress hormones are released at once, also the uchiha trend more towards being mentally unstable so the red eyes are supes common

no i dont care how genetics work

in this au the uchiha were plottng their coup so that their family could be a little less poisoned by nuclear radioactivity. which i mean like fair.

also itachi’s massacre this time is still under orders from the captain, who was concerned about any and all acts of violence that could arise from a coup, with how precise the measures need to be on the generation ship

its bullshit

in the massacre, itachi set up charges to go off around the walls that surround the uchiha section of the generation ship in order to first separate it from the ship and allow for the akatsuki ship to dock, and then so that every member of the uchiha clan would be sent into the depths of space. the only reason sasuke survived is because itachi sent him on an errand first. so sasuke comes back from like the ships food place with a bag of tomatos and candy and his home and family are gone, with no reasons left behind as to why itachi did it.

sakura is an android in this au because thats dope as hell. so is tenten.

tenten was more cobbled together out of spare parts than sakura is

shes called haruno sakura because she was completely built in the 91 day span of what passes for spring on the ship and because so much frickin quartz is in her circuitry.

androids are generally considered to be more precise than humans, with extremely accurate calculations/theory and application, so long as the degree of radiation involved is very very very very small. thats my excuse for why civilians dont have much chakra.

the genin equivalency is more based on just apprenticeships. so ino-shika-cho are apprenticed to asuma in order to go into the politics/officerships aboard the ship, team 8 are apprenticed to kurenai for trading/tracking, team gai are apprenticed to gai for shock-and-awe/defense traning (tentens twin dragon souls are now just she has the ability to fling radioactive bullets at people), and team 7 are apprenticed to kakashi to learn about the maintenance of the reactor

kakashi in this au lost both his friends to space pirates. he got obitos eye because kakashi lost his and he and obito and rin were trapped in an air bubble slowly floatng away from konoha while obito was ‘dying’ from being crushed in half, so kakashi has a fucky radioactive uchiha eye thats slowly killing him

this version of the chuunin exams is based on whether or not the students are ready to graduate from their apprenticeships to semi-independent apprenticeships, so pretty much canon except theres less fighting

suna/oto/kiri/whatever ships are allowed to dock on konoha as like a ‘friendly competition’ thing like ‘yeah were all going to the same solar system but konohas gonna have the best planet’ or whatever. technically theyre supposed to be working together though since htey were all from the same government on earth. but fuck that lol.

traders can also dock on generation ships temporarily, as long as they request a visa.

sasuke chooses to leave with orochimaru not because of any curse mark stuff but because orochimaru manipulated him by offering information, a way to edit his genetic code in order to prevent the fucky brain chemistry, and a permanent immunity to radiation

the sasuke retrieval mission goes across various ships instead of through three different forest scenes and a field

the valley of the end fight is actually being fought through an asteroid field, with naruto and sasuke wearing just the bare minimum of spacesuits, like a helment and maybe gloves or one boot because theyre both so desperate to succeed. sasuke can feel the cosmic radiation burning through his skin, his blood, his bones, and no one can save him anymore, just like no one could save his family and no one could save the uchiha genetics. naruto is burning, he can feel his heart setting alight, but his skin is freezing cold.

naruto is lost in the asteroid field for nearly two days, kept warm by the burning in his chest, before any scouts can find him

thats all for now but id like to say this au is super sexy and youre welcome

[aj-thegreatest]

Another character for @princesscallyie verse! I plan to write a story about her hopefully soon! Name: Topia Spectra

Age: 16

Gender: Female, She/Her

Birthday: January 14, Aquarius

Species: Ghost

Alignment: Young Blood Alliance (Charles Girls, C ranking)

Powers: Has the standard ghost powers (intangibility, invisibility, flight), but also can drain the misery of others in order to strengthen her powers (like her parents). Can transform/disguise herself into various human forms. Can and will be emotionally manipulative to others (Enemies, Allies, etc.) in order to get her way. Is a great actress, often taking multiple personalities and facades to completely cover her true appearance.

   Background: Topia is the child of Penelope Spectra and Bertrand. She was born because Spectra wanted a daughter but also believed that with both of their powers combined, in addition to Spectra teaching her how to control her abilities to gain dominance and power over others, Topia would be a force to be reckoned with. Because of this, Topia has a stronger control over her powers and has a better relationship with her mother than her father. After her birth, Spectra and Bertrand still kept a professional relationship with each other, only acting as Topia’s parents.

   Through growing up, Topia often kept to herself, only really talking to her mother for guidance, advice, and anything else she needed help with. While Topia had a strict relationship with her mother (being more like a mentorship than an actual mother/daughter relationship), she did have fun hanging out with her mother and getting better with her powers. Topia and Spectra would regularly travel the Ghost Zone Realms, practicing her powers and transformation on unsuspecting ghosts.

      Topia would sneak through the scarce portals that lead into the human world, adventuring and gaining experience with her powers. Mostly she would sneak through movie theaters and stage plays, aspiring to be like the actors on the screen or stage. This was the first push for her to become an actress, stealing books on acting, observing actors while watching them, and practicing her skills while in the humans world. Soon, she developed the skills to be a pretty good actress, but strives to be better.

   Recently, Spectra has started a romantic relationship with Dora Mattingly, a medieval ghost with the powers to turn into a dragon. This causes her to not spend enough time with Topia as often as she should, loosening up on her a bit. As a last ditch effort to get her mother’s attention, Topia decides to travel to the human world to get revenge on the person who trapped her mother in the Ghost Zone. However, she directs her attention to the person’s child for an easier target.    Personality: Topia is mostly cut off emotionally, acting very cold and distant to people unless she is using them for her own personal gain. She only shows hints of positive emotions (joy, excitement) to people she trusts deeply/ has fond feelings for. Topia often makes sarcastic or mean remarks as a reflex, caused by how she was raised. She will make a genuine apology only if her remarks offend the few people she cares about; with someone else she’ll just roll her eyes and tell them to get over it. Topia is extremely intelligent in psychology and sociology, manipulating this to produce misery in others and to strengthen her powers. She is also very good actress, taking on personas to trick people into trusting her. Topia, in her free time, likes to watch dramas, plays, and musicals to analyze their acting skills. She has a interest in fashion, wearing classy clothing and reading fashion magazines on the latest trends.

     Appearance: Topia has slightly tan skin, green eyes, and pointed ears. She has dark grey hair highlighted with light grey. Though Topia does change her outfit, she first appears in a light blue bundled turtleneck with a white blazer, blue skirt with a gold button, and short black boots. While it is not shown in the picture, she does wear Dora’s ring to prevent ghost detectors and ghost sense going off.

Relationships:

   Spectra: Topia has a good relationship with her mother: she only talked to her while growing up, Spectra mentored her and taught her all that she knew, and they always did everything together. Spectra and Topia would have mother/daughter outings, consisting of traveling the ghost zone to trick other ghosts, seeing the sights around the ghost zone, and watching musicals and plays at home. Spectra loves her daughter deeply, seeing many aspects of herself in her. While she hasn’t had enough time to spend time with her, Spectra supports her decision to venture into the human world and keeps in touch with her once every week.

   Bertrand: While Topia doesn’t have the strongest relationship with her birth father, she still appreciates him and talks to him every once in a while. Sometimes he, Topia and Spectra will hang out as a family, talking about what’s been going on and other stuff.

   Dora Mattingly: Topia isn’t happy about Dora being Spectra’s new girlfriend and acts coldly towards her. Dora understands and tries to talk to Topia about how she feels, but mostly gets shrugged off by Topia. Dora does care for Topia and wants what’s best for her, showing it in small ways like sending her gifts from the Ghost Zone and encouraging her while Topia talks to her mom. As a temporary parting gift, Dora gives Topia her ring to keep her undetected from ghost sense.

   Ellis (while Zethius Spark)- Out of most of the Young Blood Alliance, Topia admires Zethius Spark the most. She appreciates his hard-working and ambitious nature, and talks to him the few times his at headquarters. Ellis is receptive and talks back to her, but it’s mostly to get more information for the Vanguard League. However, there are few times that Ellis genuinely enjoys their time together and her as a person. Topia does wonder where he goes all the time, but stays in her lane.

    Charles’s Girls: Topia doesn’t like the group she’s in. At all. When she was assigned to Charles’s Girls, she heavily suggested to Drake to reconsider putting her in another group that fitted her qualifications (her standards) . However, Drake was firm with this decision despite her protests. Topia is still unhappy about this, but follows her mother’s advice (“Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude.”) and remains confident that she’ll be promoted in the future. Because of this, she tries to make friends and play nice with her team and other member of the Young Blood Alliance (if tolerable).

   Artemis: Topia does talk to Artemis, since her mother was acquaintances with Ember for a period of time. She likes Artemis because of her quiet demeanor and abilities, and usually talks to her when she’s bored or asking for her opinion on something important. Topia would like to build this relationship for her own devices.

   Roxanne: While Topia questions Roxanne’s kind nature as being authentic, she does relate to her reasons joining the YBA being self motivated than actually joining for its mission statement. When Topia learns why she joined the YBA and that she was basically forced under circumstances, she decides to help her with her financial problems so she’ll be able to leave in the distant future. When Roxanne questions this kindness, Topia denies this being a kind gesture and says she’s only doing this to get rid of competition. Topia also doesn’t realize that out of all her relationships in the YBA, her friendship with Roxanne is probably the most equal and heartfelt on both sides.

[phagechildon]

The Greater Good - Chapter 7

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Story Summary: Jack, unable to handle the dark life he’s living, is now trying to redeem himself by using his skills and demigod powers to protect the innocent. Though he gets more than he bargained for when he meets Hiccup, who unknowingly holds the very fate of the world in his hands.

Chapter Summary: While trying to find a way to save Zootopia, Jack gets a very unwanted visitor.

-----

“What happened?” Hiccup asked for the tenth time since waking up, watching as Jack continued to pack. He seemed antsy and jumpy, his eyes barely watching what he was doing as he continued gazing around the room as if expecting something to jump out at them. Something happened, something bad.

“A lot,” Jack growled back, starting to get annoyed with the question as he finished tying the bag full of moon flowers and herbs shut. “I can’t say. You’re just gonna have to trust me for now.”

For now. That meant he’d tell him later, right? He had to believe that, even with the dark look in Jack’s nervous eyes. He was acting like he told him about a new shadow figure, like the one he saw at the Hamada Village. Did this have something to do with the Nightmares then? Gods, hopefully Jack wouldn’t get overprotective again to the point of shutting him out and treating him like a kid.

“I do, just remember to trust me too,” he said back, making Jack stop packing for a second. It was a gentle reminder, not an insult. At least, he hoped the demigod wouldn’t take it offensively.

After a moment Jack took a deep breath, as if trying to release the tension as he threw the bag onto his back. “How’s the pain?” He asked, making his way to his bedside.  

“Well the medicine finally kicked in, so I’m fine now,” he reassured. Letting out a sign of relief, the demigod got a little closer, his voice falling to a whisper.

“Do you think you can walk?” They both knew it wasn’t advised. Walking could tear the stitches open in a heartbeat. If Jack was asking to risk it, it meant they were in immediate danger.

“Probably?” Hiccup said hopefully. Without missing a beat Jack gently pushed a hand underneath the auburn’s back, the other slipping under his head.

“Take it slow freckles,” he forewarned. With a soft nod Hiccup, with Jack’s support, slowly managed to sit up. It was honestly painful, the stab wound sending an electric shock of pain from his core to just about everywhere. His eyesight swam a bit, and without even realizing it he found himself leaning against his friend.

“Sorry,” he whispered, taking a few deep breathes, his eyes gazing down to the bandages. Good, they were still an off white, there didn’t seem to be any sign of blood. “Thanks-“ Jack’s grip on him suddenly tightened, making him look up at him with a look of uneasy.

“They’re coming, get ready.”

Hiccup didn’t even get a chance to ask him to elaborate as they both heard a pair of rushing footsteps. “Excuse me-“ someone said behind them, making them both freeze. “What are you doing, you can’t just take him-!” The man’s voice suddenly stopped, making Hiccup turn just in time to see the man’s eyes roll up into the back of his head as his knees crumbled from under him. Shattering on the ground next to him was an icicle, making him realize Jack acted so swiftly Hiccup didn’t even feel one of his hands leave him to throw the icicle at the man.

“I know what’s going on here, I know most of you are possessed,” Jack’s deep voice echoed against the dark hospital walls, the room gradually getting colder. The candle light seemed to dim in response, the darkness slowly becoming so thick in the room it threatened to dive into them. Toothless shivered in fear as he landed on Jack’s shoulder from the beam above, cowering against him in fear.

“Oh~?” Each and every guard that stood against each wall said in a deep teasing voice. Fear crawled into Hiccup’s throat, preventing him from saying anything back. The whole atmosphere and energy in the room completely changed, reminding him of how his world felt when the shadow first appeared. He didn’t like this.

As if sensing his and Toothelss’s fear, humanoid shadows started dancing off the walls as some of the guards slowly started stepping forward, the whites of their eyes bleeding to pure black as shrill chuckles chilled their bones. The scene was straight out of a nightmare, and yet Hiccup couldn’t look away, not even as black goop started seeping down their cheeks like thick tears of blood.

“Do you really, Jackson Overland?” They asked in unison as the same black goop started seeping past their lips. Hiccup desperately tried to look away, but his eyes seemed to focus on one guard in particular, a guard who seemed to smirk wider at the attention. Everything else bled away, even the sounds until it was just Hiccup and this Nightmare. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, and he couldn’t even breathe. The air was so thick with terror that he couldn’t even get his body to merely blink. The man only seemed to chuckle as delight sparkled deviously in his eyes.

He grew closer and closer with each struggling second, the guard’s body moving like the flickering flame of the candles that used to be around them.

When the man parted his lips, black ooze seeped past his chuckling lips. “Who?” It groaned with an ever widening mouth that wanted to swallow him whole. Hiccup trembled, trying to scream – to demand it to go away! But his lips were sealed tightly shut, his voice locked away as the creature grew so close it loomed over him. “Who… are you?” It asked, reaching a bony goo dripping finger out towards his paling freckled face. He couldn’t help it. The closer the finger got to him, the more his mind started becoming numb like the rest of his body, the world literally melting away into nothing but darkness.

Then he blinked. Desperately he gasped for much needed air as the figure suddenly disappeared as the room grew brighter. Muffled sounds of sharp ice piercing the air slowly started registering in his ears as if he were resurfacing from water. Frost clung to his skin and clothes as he felt Jack pull him against his chest. A large thud was heard as the demigod slammed the butt of his staff to the ground, summoning ice that encased the entire floor of the hospital, trapping all the guard’s feet in a thick layer of ice. The wind grew more violent and cold until the all the candles blew out at once, giving Jack the perfect cover. Without warning he took off, holding Hiccup protectively against himself.  

“T-Toothless prefers to fly himself!!” The dragon cried as he desperately clung to Jack’s shoulder. Hazily Hiccup reached up and pulled Toothless to himself, protectively cradling the dragon against his chest as he tried to pull himself back to reality. Once again he was taken away from reality and encased in a thick cloud of fear, unable to help Jack. He refused for this to become a trend, next time he’d find a way to fight the Nightmare head on, no matter what it took.  

They were flying for a while, to the point where Hiccup couldn’t hide the freezing shivers and small tremble of pain as the cold and position irritated the wound. “Are… we almost there…?”

The demigod’s stiff body seemed to relax after hearing his voice, those deep blue eyes gazing down at him with a soft warming smile. “Sorry, I’m just trying to throw them off our trail, it won’t be much longer, I promise,” Jack reassured.

Not wanting to freeze the injured viking, Jack only made a few more detours - just as a precaution -before flying as fast as he could to their destination. Within the next five minutes they finally landed, the smell of urine and feces telling them they were in the countryside. As horrible as it sounded, Hiccup was curious as to how an anamorphic City ran their countryside, but decided it was best to look into that later, when they weren’t being hunted down.

“You made it,” a familiar female voice said, making Hiccup squint into the darkness. He heard her voice when he was going in and out of sleep talking to Jack back at the hospital, but was never well enough to open his eyes.

“It was a close one, I didn’t expect all the guards to be possessed,” Jack admitted. The more his eyes adjusted, the more he was able to make out. She had silver hair tied back into braids and wore what he believed to be a guard uniform of a higher stature. If the guards back at the hospital attacked them, why wasn’t this one?

No- he wouldn’t stress about this. He trusted Jack, the demigod promised to tell him everything later; he had to believe that for now.

“That’s… frightening,” she admitted, clenching her fists angrily. “To think they have most of the guards under their control… there’s no way the whole city isn’t under their control by now.”

“If the whole city was theirs, they wouldn’t have to worry about being discrete. Half the city is probably more accurate when it comes to numbers. Although… now that I’m here, they’ll probably start speeding up the process,” Jack admitted as he started following her, tightening his hold around Hiccup. The dragon whisperer looked to Toothless, who shared his look of concern.

“Is there anything I can do?” The auburn asked, unable to help it. Even hurt he wanted to help in some way.

Jack looked down at him, those deep blue eyes glimmering in the moonlight. “I’ll explain everything and brainstorm once we’re inside,” he reassured, a small smile finally tugging on his lips. “How you feeling? I lost you for a few minutes back there.”

The mere memory made him shiver and pull Toothless closer to himself. He wanted to tell Jack what he saw, but remembered how freaked out he got the last time. “A little better,” he started. “As soon as the lights dimmed I got so dizzy and light headed.” It wasn’t a complete lie, he just didn’t tell him everything.

“Yeah that can happen, especially if you’re not used to their presence,” Jack informed as they came up to a rather large farm house. The officer knocked twice, no more and no less, and gave a small hoot. Almost instantly the door opened, revealing a rather large but cute bellied cheetah with a candle in his shaking hands.

“Judy, you’re here!” He let out a relieved laugh, opening the door more and motioned for them to come in. “My grandparents left a few hours ago, we have the house to ourselves until I send word for them to come back!”

Jack raised an eyebrow as they went in, eyeing her weirdly. “You just got here too?”

She nodded gravely as she locked the door behind them with a strong piece of wood. “I was being followed by Mrs. Otterton, it took a bit to lose her.” She sighed sadly. “Knowing her and her kind heart, having her possessed is the best way to trick the whole city.”

“I’m glad you noticed,” Jack couldn’t help but admit as he felt Hiccup move a bit uncomfortably in his arms. The position was probably agitating his wound, especially since they were flying for so long. “Where is our room?”

The cheetah blushed deeply, embarrassed he didn’t show them the room first as he quickly turned on his heels. “I’m so sorry, this way please,” he said, leading them to a rather large room that didn’t have a lot of furniture. The bed was made up nice and already had some medical supplies present on the nightstand. “It’s the guest room, not a lot of people have used it so… I hope it’s okay?”

“It’s perfect, thank you,” Hiccup reassured, cursing as he started to sweat. Shit… were they really flying for that long? The moon flower was already starting to wear off.

Toothless jumped on the bed as Jack very carefully set Hiccup down. The bed was surprisingly comfortable, far better than the hospitals. “I could’ve walked,” Hiccup mumbled, making Jack roll his eyes.

“I know, but I didn’t want to risk it.” He said softly, slowly pulling Hiccup’s shirt up. The auburn couldn’t help but gasp very lightly in pain, clenching the bed sheets as Jack unwrapped it. “Hmm, didn’t rip open, that’s a good sign.” Pulling the bag off his back, he pulled out the ointment and gently rubbed it on the scabbed over wound as gently as he could. Not even the medicine could mask some of the spikes of pain, but the Viking merely bit his lip to stop himself from expressing sounds and tried to focus on something else.

“So… mind filling me in now?”

“Fine,” Jack said as he set the ointment down and wiped his hands on his pants. He almost forgot the most important part. “Just another second Hic.” Going to Judy and Clawhauser, he checked the back of their necks, finding no Nightmare mark. “Good, now check mine,” he said as he stood in front of Judy, allowing her to check.

“All clear,” she said, to which Jack immediately let out a sigh of relief.

“One more,” he said as he went back to the confused dragon whisperer and very slowly pulled him to sit up, checking the back of his neck too.

“Uhm… what’s this?” Hiccup asked, so horribly confused.

“The Nightmares invaded the City,” Jack started, a look of relief flooding through him seeing Hiccup mark free as well. “Someone from The Last Quarter rank.”

“The Last Quarter…” Hiccup pondered for a moment, his facing paling almost instantly. “Wait… that’s the rank where most are demigods and are granted some of Pitch’s power, right?”

Jack blinked, seeming surprised he remembered as a proud smile peeked through. “I knew your bookworm brain would remember,” he said, though the smile quickly faded. “They’re using the Nightmare mark to control people. It seems like half the city’s under their control.”

Hiccup’s eyes widened in shock, unable to comprehend the full scale of the situation, but knew it was dire – almost as dire as the Hamada plight. “What are they planning with all these people?”

All eyes were on Jack now, who refused to meet anyone’s gaze. “It’s hard to say,” he admitted. “The Nightmares work with human traffickers to find slaves, bait, and even assist them with infiltrating and finding suitable victims they both can use.” He turned his attention to Judy this time. “You said people have gone missing and some turn up dead correct?”

Judy’s face crunched in disgust. “Yes, and someone came forward last night. She told us the doctor tried forcing her away before he was found dead last night.”

Jack nodded, though his face was grim. “We can’t afford to overlook anything,” he said, slowly standing, starting to pace. “If we say both the Nightmares and human traffickers are here then we won’t be caught off guard. In order to at least capture one, we’ll need to lay a trap-“

“Bait,” Judy hesitantly said, not liking the idea. “It’s risky, but they won’t come out without having a prey.”

“Exactly, and luckily for us, the caster can’t be too far from the one he’s controlling. And the better the bait, the closer the caster might be.”

Hiccup and Judy narrowed their eyes, not liking the way he said that. “What do you mean by that?” Judy asked, putting her hands on her hips, ready to dismiss the idea.

“Did any of the victims have anything in common?” The demigod asked, quickly reaching for a notebook on the nightstand. His eyes widened as he felt callused fingers press against his hand, making him turn to see Hiccup smiling gently up at him.

“Let me, I’m kinda useless anyway.” Jack returned the smile as he gently reached forward and ruffled his hair, letting him take the notebook and pen.

“You’re not useless, you never are,” his face softened a bit before shaking his head and clearing his throat. “Do you remember most of the victims?”

“I brought the case files,” Benjamin beamed, running into the other room and returning with a rather large stack of paper. His arms quivered from the weight.

“Bring them here since I’m the scribe,” Hiccup said, the cheetah not arguing one bit as he set it on the bed next to him.

“I’m worried,” Judy couldn’t help but interrupt, biting her bottom lip uneasily. “Nick’s not here yet.”

“Me too,” Jack sighed, glancing back to Hiccup who was already combing through the files. He didn’t want to leave him alone, but they didn’t have a choice. They didn’t have a lot of allies, they needed everyone they could get. If only he knew the area, he wouldn’t have to take Judy with him, but he barely found this place. “Hic-“

“I’ll be fine,” the dragon whisperer reassured, not looking up from the files. “If I can’t do anything I still have Benjamin and Toothless to protect me, if they even find us,” he reassured, though both Judy and Benjamin looked at each other.

“Toothless?”

“My best friend,” Hiccup said as Toothless, with a cackle building up behind his lips crawled up from under the bed, watching as the two froze up a bit. How they didn’t see Toothless was beyond him, but the dragon was pretty good at being discrete when he wanted to be (he was an expert at acting like a stuffed animal).

“A dragon?!” The Cheetah gasped as he backed up against the wall, fear obviously gripping his heart. “N-no one ever said anything about a dra-dra-dragon-!”

“Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you. He’s saved us countless times,” Hiccup reassured as he gently pet the top of the dragon’s head. Despite trying to act cool, the touch made Toothless shiver and cave, the sound that escaped his lips resembling a purr. “He understands us, even if he tries to act like he doesn’t-“ violent coughs suddenly erupted from Hiccup, the pencil falling from his fingers. Immediately Jack was at his side, gently running a hand up and down his back, the other holding out a cup of water he grabbed from the nightstand.

“Idiot,” Jack whispered, letting Hiccup’s shaky hands take the cup, but kept his own close in case he dropped it. “Less talking, more resting.”

The stubborn Viking opened his mouth to retaliate, but all that came out were more violent coughs. They were so deep his ribs ached and his head felt so light yet pounded with a mighty headache. He couldn’t hold his own body weight after a few minutes, using Jack for support as the cup fell from his shaking hand. Luckily Jack was prepared and caught it. Judy, seeing the struggle quickly went over and grabbed the cup from the demigod, setting it on the nightstand. Jack offered a small grateful smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’ll prepare the medicine,” Judy whispered, knowing the recipe from her training in order to supply first aid to citizens.

The coughs continued for a few more minutes, to which Jack never let him go. He merely used the other hand to gently move up and down Hiccup’s left arm in tandem with the hand that soothingly ran up and down his back. Despite the comfort, the freckled body started to tremble as his breathing became labored. Both guilt and anger streamed through Jack at each flinch, tremble and sharp breath he made. He knew Hiccup was probably experiencing the unfathomable burning sensation coursing through his veins by now. If only he had been more observant, he could’ve saved Hiccup from this pain.

“Here,” Judy whispered, bringing the water to Hiccup’s lips. “Please drink Hiccup.”

The auburn hardly seemed conscious as he parted his lips, allowing her to tip some water in. Shortly after she brought the medicine to his lips and made him drink the disgusting mixture, relieved he didn’t throw it up. They didn’t have a lot of moon flowers left…

“I know,” Jack whispered, feeling her worried gaze. “I’ll find a way to get more while we’re out looking for Nick.” Once he felt Hiccup’s breathing regain some regularity the demigod slowly pulled away enough to look at the freckled one’s face. It was scrunched up in pain, though one forest green eye slowly opened, feeling Jack’s gaze.

“Rest,” he whispered, gently laying him back against the bed. “You can look through the files later, they’re not going anywhere.”

Hiccup gently but stubbornly shook his head, moving his arms in an attempt to get up. “No… they need us-”

“-to get better so we can save them,” Jack finished, gently running his hand through Hiccup’s soft hair, knowing any kind touch would be a sharp contrast from the burning and aching hell he felt a few seconds ago. “Benjamin can start looking through the records while you take a nap okay? I’ll be back when you wake up.”

Hiccup hated this – that much was obvious in the beyond annoyed look on his face. But his body still ached, his ribs felt bruised and his lungs felt weak. Sleep sounded amazing right now.

“Fine, but just… for a bit…” he whispered breathlessly as his eyes slowly closed, sleep consuming him.

“I’ll make sure he’s okay,” Benjamin gently said from the doorway, giving them both a warm smile. “I won’t let anything happen to him.”

Right, they needed to go as much as Jack hated the idea. It felt like they were playing right into Pitch’s hands by searching for Nick. There was probably some kind of trap or ambush waiting for them. “Don’t harass Benjamin too much Toothless,” the demigod warned as the dragon’s ears drooped a bit, yet also looked offended. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Same,” Judy said. “But we don’t have a choice. We can’t just leave Nick to be marked and used by the Nightmares. Besides, we need everyone we can get to put a stop to this anytime soon.”

“Then let’s go.”

----

Jack quickly learned that bunnies weren’t fond of heights, which made sense considering most burrowed into the ground. Or maybe it was just Judy; she did mention having a rather rough fall with Nick that nearly killed them in a forest not too long ago. Either way he landed as soon as they got to the city and snuck quietly through it, searching for any signs of Nick.

“He was picking up supplies and records, which puts him near the police station,” Judy whispered as they stopped in an alley behind rotting crates, waiting for a few drunkards to go back into the bar they were leaning on. “Considering the amount of time that’s passed, he should be around this general area, if not a few blocks away.”

“This is the fastest route, right?” Jack clarified, earning a nod from the officer.

“If we don’t see him after a few blocks, we should double back and check the establishments. He might be hiding out in one until the night crowd dies down.”

“Risky, considering one touch can mark him, but whatever works at this point.” Judy nodded as they both watched the singing drunk men go back into the bar. Without even needing to speak to each other, they moved almost in unison to the next alley way. They didn’t need to peak over the pile of garbage they were hiding behind, they heard his voice immediately.

“You know, I really need to get going-“ they heard Nick say a bit out of breath. “Judy’s waiting for me to set up the trap-“

“Judy?! You’re relying on her?!” A deep man’s voice boomed, causing Judy to blink in complete shock.

“Wait, is that-“

“No offense Chief Bogo, but Judy and I have this in the bag,” Nick replied with a sharp warning tone, his protectiveness seeping through.

“Oh do you now?” The larger man snapped back, taking a threatening step forward. “Because from where I see it, both of you are conspiring with the enemy against the city!”

Nick burst into laughter, his stomach shaking so bad he had to use his free hand to hold his stomach. “You really think we believe in this Frost guy?” He asked, giving the chief a sly smirk. Jack couldn’t help the way his heart dropped a bit in his chest. “He’s the one falling for our trap as we speak.” Chief Bogo raised his eyes brows in question, putting his hands on his hips as a sign of distrust, making Nick roll his eyes. “He used to be Pitch’s right hand commander for crying out loud, it can’t be a coincidence that he shows up just as the Nightmares make a slip up and reveal their presence. Besides, someone doesn’t just wake up one day deciding they’re fighting for the greater good like that. He might have the rest of the world fooled, but not us.” The fox’s eyes sterned. “The only reason he isn’t behind bars is due to caution. I don’t have any plans on becoming a frozen cube anytime soon. Not good for my bikini body, you know?”

“And how do you plan to capture him?” The chief asked, skeptical. “As the King’s right hand knight, I should-“

“Stay at his Majesty’s side, as it’s your duty.” Nick finished. “We haven’t failed Zootopia yet, and we don’t plan to start anytime soon.”

“Like you rookies can deal with Frost without getting killed,” he mockingly laughed.

“Oh?” The fox asked with a challenging raise of his eyebrows, one the chief sadly knew well. “Then you’ll be in for another surprise.”

“So you do have a plan, what is it?!” The chief asked a bit harsher this time, taking another step forward. Nick merely tisked a few times, like one would do to an impatient child.

“It’s called a hustle Chief,” he said, tossing an apple from one of the supply boxes he had at the bull. “The hustle of a lifetime.”

This time the Chief let out a boisterous mocking laugh, looking at the apple as if it held the world’s secrets. “If you think you can hustle someone like Jack Frost, you’re a fool.” Taking a bite of the apple, his posture relaxed, though there was a dark gleam in his eyes. “Fine, go ahead and try. One less idiot I have to be held accountable for.”

“Aw, and here I thought you cared,” Nick teased, batting his eyes at the bull who grunted in response. Without another word he left. And yet Nick still felt someone’s gaze. Someone was watching, someone who had ill intentions.

“Someone else is here,” Jack whispered to Judy who nodded grimly in response as they both desperately searched with their eyes, trying to find the culprit without giving their position away. “You guys really don’t think I’m the one behind this-“

“Of course not,” Judy said with a small quiet laugh in her voice. “Though your arrival seems to have made the one responsible a bit nervous, they’ve been sloppy ever since.”

Despite wanting to believe her, he couldn’t put his whole heart into her words. After all, people he considered to be dear friends violently stabbed him in the back before. That is, except for Hiccup… so far at least.

When Nick turned around to go in the opposite direction, he felt the dark ominous feeling get even stronger. Nick was about to walk right into a trap, shit. Looking around, Jack caught sight of the sky, noticing the clouds still heavy with stubborn rain that refused to fall. “Perfect,” he smirked, helping the air get to the perfect temperature. Judy looked to him confused until she saw it.

“Fog? Or is it mist??” She blinked, honestly impressed. “Didn’t know you could do that.”

“Only if the weather permits it,” he revealed, watching as Nick grew horribly confused and nervous. “Honestly I think we got lucky.” Turning to the law enforcer, he motioned to the other with his head. “Go get him, he’ll freak out if I go.”

“Yeahhh, he gets spooked easily,” she chuckled, leaving Jack to keep watch in case whoever else was here tried attacking them. Yet as he waited, he felt the claws of doubt squeezing him tightly around the throat. Of course the thoughts from earlier came back, making him uneasy. What if they really didn’t trust him? What if they were doing all this just as a precaution, just as Nick said? If that was the case, then he left Hiccup at the mercy of Clawhauser-!

No- he was thinking irrationally, letting fear take possession of his common sense. He knew how to read people and get a good sense of their character. Judy wasn’t the one to lie like that, she was far too sincere and serious. When she thanked him for saving her parents, she spoke from her heart. Besides, she saved Hiccup from himself, pushing him away before he could ice his best friend. If she didn’t care, she would’ve let him do it.

Taking a deep breath, he gave a small smile as he saw the two quietly make their way back. They didn’t speak, not until they were far from the city and could see Clawhauser’s family farm, and it wasn’t just because they were trying to be stealthy. Nick looked pale, as if he barely escaped death.

“What happened?” Judy finally broke the silence, knowing Jack was waiting for her lead. “You’re almost three hours late!”

“Not now,” he said with a shaky breath. He was trying to act composed, but was failing miserably.

“Okay,” Jack said, shooting Judy a glance so she’d back off – for now. “Did you check him for the mark?”

“Yes,” she said as they came up to the door, doing their secret knock. “None. Which is why I’m worried.”

“Check mine, just in case,” the demigod asked, to which the rabbit was more than glad to do. She didn’t want anyone giving away their secrets, not when they were practically the last defense Zootopia had.

“Clear,” she said, moving so Jack could check hers. The cheetah opened the door, giving them a small smile.

“Man am I glad to see you guys!” Benjamin laughed nervously, dead locking the door behind them. “You’ve been gone for almost three hours, Hiccup and I were beginning to wonder if we were the last survivors!”

Upon hearing that Hiccup was awake, Jack quickly ran over to the room, not surprised to see the nerd with his nose in the records, his left hand flying across a piece of paper as he took notes. He couldn’t help but let out an enduring sigh of relief. Hiccup really was something else.

“Did you even get any rest?” He laughed, slowly making his way to the bed.

“I got enough,” Hiccup easily replied, not even looking up at him as he squinted at the papers more. “Just going over everything, even the things we talked about before. - Most of the victims at the start were predators, but something’s changed,” he confirmed, glancing up at Jack as Judy and Nick came in. “Looking at the dates of disappearances, prey started going missing about a month ago, all within the ages fifteen and twenty five.”

“Perfect slave age,” Jack hissed, making Hiccup nod grimly.

“Even when prey were taken, there was at least one predator in-between them, which doesn’t make any sense. What do predators have that prey don’t to make them more valuable?”

Judy, Nick and Benjamin gave each other uneasy looks. “Around here, it’s probably the opposite,” Judy admitted as Nick growled. “Even if we live in a big city together, racism and prejudice levels are high. Predators are always seen as the bad guys to the point where a bunch of politicians in the government tried to force them all to wear shock collars starting at the age of five.”

“It was a long battle, those racism bastards almost won,” Nick bitterly mumbled. “If it wasn’t for Gisselle, a famous singer around here who spreads the message of peace through her fans, Zootopia would no longer be a utopia for most of us.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed upon hearing that, glancing at Hiccup. “How long ago did the battle end?”

“It was recent actually,” Judy said, thinking back. “Probably around six to five months ago-“ her eyes widened, Nick’s face flashing in realization too. “No, they wouldn’t stoop so low!”

Nick shook his head though, crossing his arms in anger. “Think about it carrots, it makes perfect sense. Some of those politicians were not happy about it, they practically started their own cult once it was over!”

“Did you get the gate keeping records from the office?” Jack asked as Hiccup wrote all this down.

“Of course, who do you think I am?” Nick said as he quickly went into the other room and returned with two books. “There’s two gates, one on the north and one on the south end. If anyone left, their name will be in these books.”

Benjamin clapped his hands together happily as he took the books from Nick. “Finally I get to be of some use!” He cheered, going over to Hiccup’s side.

“It makes sense if the politicians really are behind this,” Nick scoffed as he leaned against the wall, looking at the ground. “Chief Bogo is obviously compromised. He kept trying to ‘order’ me to follow him back to the castle where we could ‘investigate’ there. It’s hard to believe he’d allow anyone even remotely suspicious near him or the King.”

Judy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “That doesn’t sound like the chief at all.”

“My thoughts exactly,” he confirmed. “And if he’s marked-“

“Then it’s safe to assume most of the castle is too, including the King.” Jack finished, though there was something that didn’t sound right about that. “Unless… it originated from the castle. Most cases end up with the higher power bathed in corruption.”

“Okay,” Judy stopped them there with a sigh. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s wait until they finish going through the gatekeeper’s books before we start pointing fingers at anyone or we’ll be no better than them when it comes to jumping to conclusions.”

“Agreed,” Jack stretched, his eyes wondering to the small basket that contained only two petals of the moon flower. “I’ll use this intermission to search for more moon flowers.”

“Need any help?” Judy asked, to which Jack shook his head.

“I’ll be fine-“

“We shouldn’t separate,” Nick interrupted, shivering a bit at the thought. “They saw I was alone and tried to move in for the attack. We’re stronger and more vigilant in numbers. Besides, what’ll happen if you get marked? You’d lead them back here!”

“I agree,” Judy said. “I’ll go so Nick can rest.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m not planning on touching the ground,” the demigod said, grabbing the basket and putting the last two pedals on the nightstand. “I’ll be as quick as a bunny.”

Judy couldn’t help but roll her eyes with a soft smirk. “Fine. But if you’re over an hour late, we’re gonna come lookin’ for you.”

“Fair enough,” he said, seeing Hiccup so absorbed in the research he wasn’t even paying attention to what was being said. With a small smile of fondness, he made his way over to the bed, ruffling his hair again, much to the viking’s annoyance.

“You’re doing something stupid again, aren’t you?” Hiccup peeked up, making Jack roll his eyes a bit.

“I would do no such thing!” He laughed, looking to Toothless. “Make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble again. We’ve been hurt the past few chapters and quite frankly, I’m over it.”

The dragon nodded. “Stupid humans need to stop being stupid and hurt. Toothless is sick of having to be dependable.” Jack didn’t understand the noises, but Hiccup did as he let out a snort.

“If it means anything bud, I really appreciate your help the past few days,” he smiled, gently petting the dragon behind the ears. “I couldn’t ask for a better friend. I know I can always rely on you.”

“Anddd this is where I take my leave,” the demigod said with a wave. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

But he wasn’t so sure. There was something about the air… something he didn’t like. Someone was watching, someone that made his skin crawl. He knew for a fact that no one followed them, and yet he still felt this strange air. It reminded him of when Pitch lurked and watched from the shadows, but this presence was so much stronger. Somehow he knew the prying eyes would follow, and they did.

No matter how high or fast he flew, the presence was still there, almost mocking him. But he didn’t let it stop him.

Staying just high enough to see the ground below, he found a patch of moon flowers swaying gently in the wind. The presence seemed to get stronger, to the point where it felt like it was pressing into his back. Landing he growled, dropping the basket.

“Enough hiding, come out already!” He snapped, the air growing cold, his hair slowly turning icy white.

An airy yet devious chuckle echoed around the forest, frightening the wildlife to flee for their lives. It didn’t frighten Jack in the least as his staff formed in his hands.

“I couldn’t tell if you were toying with me or being a complete idiot,” the voice came from behind. Pivoting on his heels, Jack aimed his staff only to gasp. Leaning against a tree was a man with shaggy blond hair that was nearly white with deep green eyes that screamed power and mischief. He wore a white toga like the nobles or even a king of Greeks would wear, showing off a little bit of skin as if to be alluring and friendly. Yet his poisonous uneasy aura gave him away.

“What do you want?” Jack hissed, his grip on the staff tightening considerably. He was trying to hide and conceal his emotions, but the harder he tried, the more he failed. And of course the wind exposed his emotional state.

“Oh I’m hurt,” the man gasped, holding his heart dramatically as if it ached. “After twenty years I thought you’d be excited to finally meet me, your father!”

Jack’s eyes narrowed as snow started to fall, giving up on trying to conceal his feelings. “I actually begged the other gods to never let us meet, but they’re obviously useless as always.” Knowing it was worthless to hold his weapon up against a god, he lowered it, concentrating on collecting the moon flowers instead before his frost killed them.

Loki chuckled at the response, slowly pushing himself off the tree. “They really are useless up there, they couldn’t even touch me if they wanted.”

The demigod didn’t respond, nor did he watch the god slowly start to circle him from a distance. He merely kept at his task, picking as many moon flowers as he could. This task was far more important than entertaining a dead beat god.

“You don’t even have questions for me?” The god asked, raising an eyebrow in shock when the other started ignoring him. “Nothing to scream or yell about?” Once more silence filled the air, making Loki scowl under his breath. “Don’t you want to at least attack me!?” When the mortal still didn’t respond, his anger started to boil, the air becoming thick and tense. “Don’t test me Frost, or-“

“Or what?!” Jack finally snapped angrily back, looking the snake dead in the eyes. “I’m doing what you’ve done to me all these years – ignoring you. I have far more important things to be doing than entertaining you.”

“Oh?” Loki smirked, letting out a deep sigh. “I don’t need entertainment, I simply dropped by to warn you, but it seems like you want to learn the hard way,” he waved, turning to walk away.

Jack stiffened, his mind starting to reel in fear. Warn him? If he hadn’t warned him about anything else in his life, why now? What could possibly be so big that he’d show up for the first time in twenty years to tell him?

“You’re lying,” he said back, not believing it. Loki was a trickster god. Somehow he knew Loki wanted him to ask so a lie could be spoken. Grabbing the last few flowers he picked up the basket, ready to fly away.

“You’re right, how could I forget? I came to warn you about two things, actually,” he smiled, his eyes watching Jack’s every move. “Struggling with the mortals here is futile. The finale is in three days, and you guys don’t even have a single lead.” Jack couldn’t help the way his body froze in fear as reality sunk in. Three days, that was it?! Did that mean the city really was that lost to the Nightmare mark already? “You should leave while you can, this city is a lost cause.”

“A lost cause?” Jack whispered angrily back, clenching his fists tightly as he refused to look at Loki. “Causes are only lost when people give up, and I for one, refuse to give up.”

Loki merely shrugged his shoulders, that annoying smirk never leaving his lips. “You always were a stubborn one, but if you won’t listen to that warning, then at least think about this one.” Jack merely clenched the basket and jumped, willing the wind to carry him when god spoke again. “The company you’re traveling with, Hiccup, was it?” Fear gripped Jack’s heart, forcing him to stop in his tracks. His father knew about Hiccup, and that worried him. “His fate is dark and twisted, you’d be better off sending him back to Berk to save yourself the trouble and heartache.”

This was a trap, this had to be a trap. Asking him for elaboration would result in him falling for a trap. After all, Loki was the trickster god, he was always trying to ensnare people into his web of lies.

“I’ll take my chances,” he merely grumbled, allowing the wind to whisk him away as fast as it could.

“You can’t even fathom what the fates have in store for that boy, Jackson. I hope you’re ready for it.” Loki’s voice carried through the winds, making the demigod shiver and speed up even faster.

Like he’d believe a word his father said. He didn’t care before when his life literally became hell on earth, so why care now? There had to be something in it for him unless why warn him at all?

And yet, as much as he wanted to ignore the first warning, he couldn’t. Somehow he knew he was telling the truth; maybe it had something to do with his own experience as a former Nightmare. Either way, he didn’t dare take a chance. There were far too many lives at stake. As for the second warning… he didn’t know what to make of it. There was a strange tone in the god’s voice, as if there was pent up anticipation. Gods liked to watch humans struggle, and if Loki has his eyes on Hiccup, it meant there was a good chance a storm was coming his way. But he wouldn’t face it on his own, Jack refused to let that happen.

---

The flight back took a bit longer than he anticipated, probably because he was thinking too much. It wasn’t all that surprising to see Judy outside looking up at the sky, her stress and worry deflating the instant she saw him. It was nice to know she at least somewhat cared about him.

“Took you long enough!” She sighed, putting her hands on her hips as he landed. “Did you run into any trouble?”

“Sort of,” he admitted, checking the basket to be sure none of the moon flowers escaped. They all seemed to be there which was honestly surprising, but he wasn’t going to question it. “One sec,” he said as he turned his back to her, allowing her to check for a mark. When she finished he returned the gesture, relieved they both still had their free will.

“Okay now that that’s out of the way, what’s happening here in Zootopia is way bigger than I initially thought.”

“What do you mean by that?” She asked quietly as they went inside, locking the door tightly behind them.

“I ran into Loki.” He simply said, catching sight of Hiccup at the corner of his eye still awake working with Clawhauser in the next room. The poor dragon whisperer looked so pale and tired, his breathing already abnormal. The stubborn Viking wasn’t resting enough. The antidote wouldn’t work without proper self-care, and that included a lot of sleep. Yet if there was any ounce of truth to Loki’s words, they didn’t have much time, especially for sleeping.

“Loki?” Judy paled, putting the pieces together.

“Yeah, my literal god parent,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair, making some of the snow fall out. “It’s… the first time I’ve ever talked to him.”

“What’d he say?” She asked, not liking this at all. He couldn’t blame her, he didn’t either.

Motioning for her to follow, they went into Hiccup’s room, watching with a warm heart as the dragon whisperer looked up at him with a welcoming smile.

“What took you so long? I almost forgot what you looked like,” the auburn smirked, making Jack chuckle. Even exhausted Hiccup was still Hiccup.

“At least I’m memorable~” He winked, making his way over to the bed. “How you feeling Freckles? You don’t look too good.”

Hiccup instantly looked away, avoiding eye contact as he spoke. “Oh you know, the usual these days,” he laughed nervously. “My veins burning and muscles aching, not to mention feeling like my lungs will collapse any minute as breathing’s become a chore, but otherwise good.”

Jack was taken by surprise, and so was Toothless. He saw the little dragon look up at Hiccup and tilt his head a bit, his jaw opening slightly in awe. Hiccup had been honest even if he was trying to cover up the pain with his jocular attitude.

He didn’t even feel Hiccup’s gaze back on him, only saw him roll his eyes and mutter ‘oh gods,’ before shaking his head. “While you were gone, Ben and I finished compiling a list of all the suspects, but…” he trailed off, looking over to other officer who looked horribly nervous.

“But what?” Judy asked, preparing herself to hear nothing but bad news from everyone.

“We mightttt have an infestation,” he said as he nervously tapped his fingers together.

Judy tilted her head, feeling dread crawling into her chest. “What do you mean?”

Ben looked to Hiccup who gave an encouraging smile. “According to the list, nearly all the politicians who fought for the collars left on the same day around the same time a month after the debate ended, and they all came back around the same time too.”

Hiccup nodded. “The pattern continues for at least a whole month before they seem to leave in groups on different days instead.”

Judy paled over, her legs feeling weak. “H-how many total?” She asked, her voice a bit airy.

“Thirteen,” Hiccup said, his breathes getting deeper. “Seven of them either work at the castle or near it according to Ben.”

“They were desperate,” Jack noted. “All of them were running around trying to find warlords to make deals and packs with, not even considering the consequences of their actions,” he hissed.

“They realized too late they made a mistake,” Nick’s voice came from the bedroom doorway, making everyone look up at the half asleep hybrid who was rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “As we've already said, all of them were predators at the beginning.”

“And within the last month or so, a lot of prey have become victims too,” Judy said, rubbing her arm in an attempt to comfort herself. “The Nightmares and human traffickers probably got tired of getting nothing but predators, and of course the politicians couldn’t say no to offering up prey due to whatever deal or pact they made with them or they’d risk a full on attack on the city.” Judy said, crossing her arms, not liking this one bit.

The demigod pursed his lips, seeing the possible connection now. “I can imagine the Nightmares found it easier just to mark them. Not only does it avoid full on war that would diminish their supplies but it also puts them in full control - which they love.”

Judy cursed under her breath, taking the news hard. Politicians loved going around and trying to spread their message to people, which gave the Nightmares the perfect way to infect so many citizens without raising any suspicion.

“Can a marked person mark another?” Judy couldn’t help but ask, wondering how fast it really could spread.

“Only if the original caster tells them to, so they have to be nearby.”

Nick felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he shivered. “They were near when I was with Bogo.”

Jack nodded gravely. “Most likely, I’m pretty sure I sensed them. They know you and Judy are trying to put a stop to this and finding you alone was a golden opportunity. I’m honestly impressed you made it.”

“What can I say, I’m a clever fox,” Nick smirked, loving the attention.

Judy rolled her eyes, still horribly tense. “Okay, so we know who started this, but how do we even know how much time we have left? And how do we even fight back?”

The demigod sighed, knowing what he learned was about to make everything ten times worse. “Like I mentioned earlier, I ran into Loki. And although I’d never take stalk in his words, he said we only have three days before the city is overran.” The room became still in an instant as everyone paled over considerably. “But as I said, I don’t know if there’s any truth to what he said. But I’d rather not take a chance.”

“Three days?!” Nick gasped, blinking a few times as if trying to verify this wasn’t a dream. “That’s almost as bad as our forty-eight hour task.”

“That’s insane,” Judy let out a laugh, feeling the pressure getting to her. “Overran by who?”

“I don’t know, but we won’t solve anything by panicking,” he said.

“I know,” she mumbled, taking a few deep breathes as Nick came over and gently rest his hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry Carrots, nothing’s impossible as long as we work together, right?” He smiled. The bunny hybrid couldn’t help but nod, taking another deep breath.

“You’re right, sorry,” she said, looking back over at the demigod. “Okay, so where do we start?”

“By coming up with a plan,” Hiccup said, smiling a bit hesitantly, already knowing Jack would probably shoot it into the ground. “I think I have one.” Seeing as he had everyone’s attention, he cleared his throat and continued. “According to the victims list of those who vanished, a lot of them were either in the hospital or were recovering from some sort of injury or sickness, correct?”

“At first, yes,” Judy admitted. “What’s your point?”

But Jack paled a bit. Hiccup couldn’t be thinking what he thought he was thinking, could he?!

“My point is that they probably take the injured and sick to their actual contacts outside because they don’t need to expend that much energy transporting them. Considering they can’t get away or fight back because they’re weak, they don’t even have to mark them-“

“No,” Jack interrupted as he glowered sharply at the auburn. “Absolutely not!”

Hiccup rolled his eyes in irritation. “For the love of Thor, can you at least hear me out first?!” He demanded, glaring up at the demigod. Jack opened his mouth, wanting more than anything to say no, but stopped as he stared into Hiccup’s determined forest green eyes. He wasn’t a child, Jack had to remember that. As much as he wanted to protect Hiccup and make sure Loki’s warning didn’t happen, babying him would only do more damage than good, even if he did try using the fact that he was injured against him. Besides, if he didn’t agree to it, the stubborn auburn would probably go through with it anyway. He had to make sure Hiccup knew what he was getting himself into before agreeing though.

Seeing the demigod back off, Hiccup felt himself calm a bit. “I’m not much help here, but I can be out there. While you guys deal with the caster and enemies here in the city, I can secure the prisoners that were taken and somehow find a way to stop the army from sending in any reinforcements.”

“But you’re injured and poisoned,” Jack stressed, holding up the basket of moon flowers he just picked. “Without these you’ll die.”

“I’m sure they’ll know,” Hiccup said. “If they were willing to take the others who were injured and sick as well, they must be treating them before sending or selling them off unless why kidnap the weak ones?” He had a point, no one could deny that in the room. “Besides, I’m the only one here they don’t know. If it were you, Judy, Nick or even Ben, they’d rather have you guys on their side and mark you. To them, the only value I have is with being sold.” His forest green eyes locked with Jack’s deep blue eyes, making it impossible for Jack to look away. “Besides, they’ll have to cure me in order to sell me, which will also benefit us.”

That was all true, and yet Jack was still wary. “But they’ll take your prosthetic-“

“Probably.” Hiccup merely shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, which worried him even more.

“They’ll hurt you-“

“Most likely.”

“They’re starve and dehydrate you-!”

“I’m well aware of the risks of war, I can do this,” Hiccup said, giving Jack an encouraging smile. “If they take my prosthetic, I’ll find a way to make a temporary one. If they hurt me, I’ll make them think I’m weaker than I am. If they starve and dehydrate me, I’ll over exaggerate my condition to convince them to give me a larger portion. – I’ll be fine Jack; there’s a benefit to having a fishbone like body.”

The demigod knew he lost. This was the plan now, he couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. It would be the easiest way to save the prisoners that weren’t sold off yet – which there was a good chance since most were injured and sick – and keep enemy troops from aiding the ones they’d end up fighting. But he still couldn’t help but worry about losing him, if not to death, than to Pitch. “How would we even find you after?” But he knew that answer too, even Hiccup knew he did.

“For better accuracy, you should use a lock of my hair.”

“Ugh, does this mean Toothless has to find another dragon to help us?” The dragon groaned in dragonese, not liking the idea either but knew he had no say. “If you stupid humans decide to go through with this plan you won’t even need a terrible terror because you’ll be dead! At least when you’re dead you won’t be Toothless’s problem anymore! Toothless can finally live peacefully!”

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Come on bud, I know you care.”

“So do I,” Jack admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “What are you gonna do to keep the soldiers from leaving?”

Hiccup bit his lip, thinking for a few moments. “I uh, haven’t figured that part out yet. I figured if nothing came to mind before then, I’d sort of wing it once I was there,” he laughed nervously, looking to Jack with a soft smile. “Then again, you’re the expert. Do you have any suggestions?”

Jack couldn’t help the small blush that painted his cheeks despite the fear he felt. There was just something in the way he said it that made him feel a bit bubbly, or maybe it was the look of fascination and the amount of faith the auburn had in him that made him feel this way.

“Considering you’re still injured and poisoned, you’ll need to avoid confrontation where you can even if they do get rid of the poison,” Jack started, thinking critically. What was something Hiccup could do no matter what base camp he was taken to? It needed to be something simple, something he could do without much effort to take the whole camp down. “Once you’re well enough, they’ll treat you as a slave, so might as well as act like one.”

“I can be a pretty good actor from what I hear,” Hiccup reassured, ignoring the snort of laughter from Toothless who obviously disagreed.

“Good, then if they try to assign a job to you, tell them you’re a really good cook. They may just go along with it considering you’re still healing from the stab wound. And if they don’t assign a job to you because of the wound, as soon as you’re able to, find a way to sneak out and pretend to be the cook. Typically the lackies aren’t very smart and won’t question seeing a new slave making their meals.”

“Okay,” Hiccup said, not really connecting the dots. “So what should I do with the food? Poison it?”

“Not exactly,” Jack said, a little horrified Hiccup would even consider the thought. “You’re going to dump ingredients that don’t belong together in, ingredients that are so horrendous they give everyone such a horrible stomach ache that if it’s not food poisoning it might as well be. But it still has to taste good enough for them to keep eating enough of it.”

Nick nodded at the idea, liking it. “Easiest way to take down an entire army. Even if they have someone test the food to verify there’s no poison, it’ll slip past them – for a few hours at least, long enough for the damage to be done.”

“Exactly,” Jack said with a smile. “Which will give us enough time to take care of business in town before Nick and Judy pick you up.”

Hiccup glanced at the two officers who looked similarly confused. “Wait, what about you?” He hesitantly asked, not liking where this was going.

“There’s obviously more than one camp,” the demigod said, looking down at his hands. “I’ll track down the other camps and take them down myself. They can’t mark what they can’t touch or see, and I heard there’s a blizzard warning.”

“Jack-“

“No Hic, I have to do this alone,” Jack said, looking at him sternly. “As soon as the other camps hear the caster fell, they’ll quickly try to disperse and flee with what they have. After all, what good is a city they no longer have control or access to? Besides, if there’s another Last Quarter rank there, I refuse to let any of you be marked.”

Hiccup didn’t like the idea as he glanced at Toothless who pinned his ears back, not liking it as well. Unlike Jack Hiccup knew the demigod could do things on his own, but the fact that there was even a small possibility of someone being there that was able to mark Jack made them both uneasy. Even if they managed to take the city back and return the prisoners they’re able to recover from the camps, they could force Jack to take the city in a manner of minutes. “Take Toothless with you then,” he said, not even needing to ask the dragon first. “At the first sign of danger, or if you lose control, he can either try to pull you back or get us.”

“Hic-“

“It’s not an offer,” Hiccup said sternly back as Toothless jumped on his shoulder, giving him the same stern look. “I’m just letting you know why he’s going with you.”

“Fine,” Jack sighed, knowing Hiccup would make Toothless follow him regardless of what he said. “But if things get hairy for you while you’re captive, you need to know the four basic rules of survival that even I cling to when I can’t rely on my powers.”

“Okay,” Hiccup said with a small victorious smile.

“Listen to all the rules first before interrupting,” he forewarned, knowing the viking might get snippy. “If you can run, run. If you can’t run, surrender, then run. If you’re outnumbered, let them fight each other while you run. Four is where you talk your way out of it, something you’re really good at.”

“Those are actually pretty good rules to follow,” Nick piped in, having done some of them himself. “Running isn’t cowardice, not when it’s about survival. It’s the difference between life and death.” He looked to Judy who was leaning on him, beyond tired but trying to hide it. “We should teach this to our academy with a few spins on it.”

“Toothless likes it too,” the dragon said. “Lots of running from danger, not towards like Hiccup does a lot.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes, but understood the underlining concept. “I can’t deny those are indeed good survival tactics,” he sighed, making sure to remember them. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Jack said, biting his lip. “You know, there could be a fifth for you, and it’s only if there’s no other way out.” He didn’t have to say it though as Hiccup nodded, understanding. It was the absolute last resort, and only if there were more lives on the line aside from his. If the world knew about dragons the way he did, everything would fall into chaos.

“Can you teach me how to make the antidote just in case?” Hiccup asked, finally giving in. The searing pain coursing through his veins was too much, he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He was surprised his breathing was somewhat normal with how heavy yet light his lungs felt.

“Of course,” Jack reassured, reaching over and grabbing the ingredients and materials. “You guys should go get some rest, we have a long day tomorrow.”

[schoolcalidity]

The historical ideologies of anti-Jewish prejudice from the 15th century to the Overland Park, Kansas Murders

The historical ideologies of anti-Jewish prejudice from the 15th century to the Overland Park, Kansas Murders.

–––

We are learning from news accounts that the alleged shooter in the murders of three people at two separate Jewish sites, a community center and a retirement village in Overland Park, Kansas, just one day before the Jewish Passover, was inspired by hate. According to Overland Park Police Chief John Douglass, “This was a hate crime.” The federal government can now prosecute the suspected perpetrator, Frazier Glenn Miller (a.k.a. Frazier Glenn Cross), 73-years old, on hate-crime charges.

The Southern Poverty Law Center lists Miller as a former grand-dragon of the Ku Klux Klan and a founding member of the White Patriot Party, a white supremacist group. Miller has posted approximately 12000 times on Vanguard News Network whose slogan is “No Jews, Just Right.”

So why did a self-described “white supremacist” target apparent white people at Jewish community centers? The answer is quite simple: Though Jewish people are members of every so-called “race,” even Jews of European heritage (Ashkenazim) have been and still continue to be “racially” othered by dominant Christian European-heritage communities in some quarters. For this reason, I argue that the federal and state prosecutors charge Miller with first-degree premeditated murder stemming from his religious, ethnic, and racial bigotry, even though it appears that he mistakenly targeted people who were not themselves Jewish. Anti-Jewish prejudice (a.k.a. anti-Semitism) is a form of racism.

The “Racialization” of Jews

Race is an historical, scientific, biological myth

Looking back on the historical emergence of the concept of “race,” critical race theoristsremind us that this conceptarose concurrently with the advent of European exploration as a justification for conquest and domination of the globe beginning in the 15th century of the Common Era (CE) and reaching its apex in the early 20th century CE.

Geneticists tell us that there is often more variability within a given so-called “race” than between “races,” and that there are no essential genetic markers linked specifically to “race.” They assert, therefore, that “race” is an historical, “scientific,” biological myth, an idea, and that any socially-conceived physical “racial” markers are fictional and are not concordant with what is beyond or below the surface of the body.

Though biologists and social scientists have proven unequivocally that the conceptof “race” is socially constructed (produced, manufactured), however, this does not negate the very real consequences people face living in societies that maintain racist policies and practices on the individual, interpersonal, institutional, and larger societal levels.

For millennia, some Christian theologians distinguished Jews as different from and inferior to Christians on religious grounds. A number of passages within the Christian Testaments were used to give justification for persecuting Jews. For example, Matthew 27:24-25, and in 1 Thessalonians 2:15-16:

[T]he Jews, who killed the Lord Jesus and the prophets and drove us out, the Jews who are heedless of God’s will and enemies of their fellow man … All this time they have been making up the full measure of their guilt, and now retribution has overtaken the good of all.

They also often equated Jews to the Devil:

And Jesus said: “If God were your father, you would love me…[but] your father is the devil and you choose to carry out your father’s desires” (John 8:44).

The Jews…are Satan’s synagogue (Revelation 2:9).

I will make those of Satan’s synagogue, who claim to be Jews but are lying frauds, come and fall down at your feet (Revelation 3:9).

Carl Linnaeus (1707-1778), born Carl Linné, (also know as the “Father of Scientific Racism”), a Swedish botanist, physician, and zoologist, developed a system of scientific hierarchical classification. Within this taxonomy under the label Homo sapiens, (“Man”), he enumerated five categories based initially on place of origin and later on skin color: Europeanus, Asiaticus, Americanus, Monstrosus, and Africanus. Linnaeus asserted that each category was ruled by a different bodily fluid (Humors: “moistures”), represented by Blood (optimistic), Phlegm (sluggish), Cholor (yellow bile: prone to anger), Melancholy (black bile: prone to sadness).

Linnaeus connected each human category to a respective humor, thereby constructing the Linnaeus Taxonomy in descending order: Europeanus: sanguine (blood), pale, muscular, swift, clever, inventive, governed by laws; Asiaticus: melancholic, yellow, inflexible, severe, avaricious, dark-eyed, governed by opinions; Americanus (indigenous peoples in the Americas): choleric, copper-colored, straightforward, eager, combative, governed by customs; Monstrosus (dwarfs of the Alps, the Patagonian giant, the monorchid Hottentot): agile, fainthearted; Africanus: phlegmatic, black, slow, relaxed, negligent, governed by impulse.

Jews were throwbacks to earlier stages of religious and human development.

Later, although Charles Darwin himself did not assert this, some of Darwin’s successors, referred to as “Social Darwinists,” hypothesized that Jews no longer were simply a separate religious, ethnic, or political group, but rather they extended the idea that like black Africans and other groups (including homosexuals), Jews were throwbacks to earlier stages of religious and human development. They forwarded a so-called “racial” hierarchy placing “Aryans” on the top, black Africans at the lower end, and other “races” (including Jews) at various points in between.

In Europe, by the late 19th century CE, Judaism had come to be viewed by the scientific community as a distinct “racial” type, with essential immutable biological characteristics — a trend that increased markedly into the early 20th century CE. Once seen as largely a religious, ethnic, or political group, Jews were increasingly constructed as members of a “mixed race” (a so-called “mongrel” or “bastard race”), a people who had crossed racial barriers by interbreeding with black Africans during the Jewish Diaspora. If Jews were evil, as thought by many, this evilness was genetic and could not be purged or cured. Jews converting to Christianity, therefore, could no longer solve “the Jewish question.”

The British psychologist, Francis Galton (1822-1911) — a cousin of Charles Darwin — was a founder of the “Eugenics” movement. In fact, Galton coined the term “eugenics” in 1883 from the Greek word meaning “well born.” Eugenicists attempted to improve qualities of a so-called “race” by controlling human breeding. Galtonargued that genetic predisposition determined human behavior. He proposed that the so-called “elites” in the British Isles were the most intelligent of all the peoples throughout the planet, while “[t]he average intellectual standard of the Negro race is some two grades below our own [Anglo-Saxons]. The Australian type is at least one grade below the African Negro…” and “The Jews are specialized for a parasitical existence upon other nations.” Galton asserted that Jews were of a lower racial form, and that they could be easily recognizable by their appearance (apparently, though, not by Frazier Glenn Miller in Kansas). He also talked about a supposed cold and calculating “Jewish gaze.”

The mixture of any of the European races and a Jew is a Jew.

The U.S. writer, Madison Grant (1865-1937) codified this supposed “racialization” of the Jews in his influential book, The Passing of the Great Race, or The Racial Basis for European History (1916), in which he argued that Europeans comprised four distinct races: The “Nordics” of northwestern Europe sat atop his racial hierarchy, whom Grant considered as the natural rulers and administrators, which accounted for England’s “extraordinary ability to govern justly and firmly the lower races” (p. 207). Next down the racial line fell the “Alpines” whom Grant referred to as “always and everywhere a race of peasants” with a tendency toward “democracy” although submissive to authority (p. 227). These he followed with the “Mediterraneans” of Southern and Eastern Europe, inferior to both the Nordics and the Alpines in “bodily stamina,” but superior in “the field of art.” Also, Grant considered the Mediterraneans superior to the Alpines in “intellectual attainments,” but far behind the Nordics “in literature and in scientific research and discovery” (p. 229). On the bottom he placed the most inferior of all the European so-called “races”: the Jews.

Referring specifically to the Polish Jew, Grant asserted that “…the Polish Jews, whose dwarf stature, peculiar mentality and ruthless concentration on self-interest…” (p. 16), present themselves in “swarms” (p. 63). Analogous to the notion in the United States that “one drop” of “black African blood” makes a person black, according to Grant, the mixture of any of the European races and a Jew is a Jew.

By the end of the 19th century CE, the popular image of the “Jewish type” (portrayed invariably as the Jewish male), according to Sander Gilman in his book The Jew’s Body, “consisted of a hooked nose, curling nasal folds (ali nasi), thick prominent lips, receding forehead and chin, large ears, curly black hair, dark skin, stooped shoulders, [weak flat feet, deflated rump,] and piercing, cunning eyes” (p. 18). In addition, the gaze of the Jew was said to be pathological, searing, cunning, cold, and piercing.

An offshoot of Eugenics was phrenology: the study of the skull emphasizing that its size and shape determined mental abilities and character. Phrenologist practitioners held that a specific section of the “Jewish” or “Hebrew” brain was “abnormally” developed causing Jews to be highly interested in money. As we know, the Nazis used contrived “racial” arguments as a philosophical cornerstone for justification of their persecutions of Jews, as well as most people of color and people with disabilities. Jews and others they considered descendants from inferior “racial stands.” Nazi leadership argued vehemently that Jews were polluting the so-called “Aryan race.” They forced Jews to wear the yellow Star of David as a signifying marker, since to the Nazis, yellow represented a sign of “race pollution.”

This sentiment extended far beyond the borders of the Third Reich. For example, in 1939, the United States Congress refused to pass the Wagner-Rogers Bill, which if enacted would have permitted entry to the United States of 20,000 children from Eastern Europe, many of whom were Jewish, over existing quotas. Laura Delano Houghteling, cousin of Franklin Delano Roosevelt and wife of the U.S. Commissioner of Immigration sternly warned: “20,000 charming children would all too soon, grow into 20,000 ugly adults.”

Once constructed as the “Other” in European society, Jews and “Jewishness” — while certainly not fully embraced by the ruling elite as “one of their own” — became a sort of “middle” status, “standing somewhere between the dominant position of the White majority and the marginal position of People of Color.” And this change in Jewish ethno-racial assignment has occurred only within the last 70 or so years.

“Race” then must be seen constructed NOT as a binary with “white” on one side and “people of color” on the other, but rather as a continuum. Ashkenazim are primarily constructed in the U.S. today on the “white” side of the line upon this continuum, and we definitely have white privilege vis-a-vis “people of color.” I would argue, however, that we do not have the degree and extent of white privilege in many sections of this country as white mainline Protestants. In fact, in some countries, for example, in Eastern Europe still today, we are not constructed as “white.” Obviously, so-called white supremacists believe this as well.

https://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/long-road-jewish-racialization-wcz/

[shatteredempirescribe]

Tishamon placed a hand on the girl’s swollen belly and felt the babe inside move.  The babe was still alive and seemed to be healthy, at least to his limited ability to judge.

Suddenly, her abdomen tightened in contraction, bringing a feeble moan from the unconscious girl.  Tishamon had participated, at least peripherally, with many births and had played the role of midwife on occasion.  After a brief deliberation, He decided to let the girl deliver naturally if she could.  Perhaps she would live long enough to see and nurse the infant.

Tishamon kept vigil the remainder of the evening and throughout the night, leaving only to bring in more firewood from the shed next to the cabin.  During the first two Turns of the Glass he busied himself by preparing part of an abandoned cloth bedroll to catch the blood and afterbirth in, sacrificing a relatively new, soft tunic to make diapers and sewing together a wolf hide (fur side in) for an infant carrier.  After that he was forced to admit that watching and waiting were all he could do.  Helping a lone woman give birth was not so bad if she was alert.  She needed someone to calm and reassure her and sometimes would be able to converse until the actual pushing came.  Incoherent moaning was not much to talk to.  He did speak reassurances to the girl though, on the off chance she might hear him.

Beyond that, he could do nothing to ease or speed the birth, short of cutting her open and taking the baby from her body.  If she died, he would have to do just that.  With that thought, the woodsman drew a short-bladed skinning knife and set to work whetting the edges.  When the blade met his approval, he wiped the blade clean and passed the blade through the flames to sterilize it before setting it aside where it would stay clean.

The girl’s contractions began coming closer and closer together until it seemed each came on the heels of the one before it.  Still, the girl showed no sign of regaining consciousness.  Tishamon sighed heavily.  He had hoped she might come to for the delivery so she’d know that her struggle had not been in vain, that she’d saved her child.

In his life as a wandering hunter/guide/explorer/refugee from a commonplace existence, Tishamon had delivered children of all races.  Through almost all of those deliveries, he’d silently wished the mother would shut up and give birth without thrashing about and, in the case of one fiery-haired dwarf, blacking his eye while cursing him and his ancestry in a most creative and extensive manner.  Even to this day, more than a hundred years later, he had yet to hear anyone curse him better.

Today, he reversed his opinion on loud, thrashing births.  Even the most verbally and physically abusive dwarf was preferable to this inert, unresponsive mother-to-be he helped now.  When he finally held a small copper-skinned, squalling boy, he truly missed the joyful greeting all new mothers gave their new child.  As he cleaned the infant, Tishamon noticed that the eyes had a definite greenish cast, rather than the blue-purple of new infant Copper Elves.  He slowly checked more of the child’s features.  The ears were too round, the nose seemed a little broad for the child to be of pure blood, but with the squashed features of a newborn, it was hard to tell.  The skin was also perhaps a shade or two too pale as well.

That explained a lot. Even with as clannish as Copper Elves were, they’d not turn away someone in distress, such as this child.  But, if she knew she was carrying a half-breed she might have feared they’d turn her away, or take her in and arrange either a ‘still birth’ or ‘cradle death’ for the infant.  Copper Elves treasure all children, often taking in and raising the offspring of other races, making such fears unlikely, but possible.

When Tishamon finished wrapping the infant boy in a piece of blanket he turned toward the girl, he again saw the brand on her chest.  As a runaway slave, she would have wanted to avoid any and all people until she was safely out of the human provinces.  He’d heard rumors that the rulers of some human provinces in the Kesh Plains east of the Fire Hills had begun pogroms of expellations or enslavement.  Baron Uther Ulric IV was supposedly the main driving force behind the trend.

This girl was evidence enough that at least some of the rumors about enslavement were true.  The stories about gang and mass rapes of non-human girls were probably true as well, he thought grimly.  The faint glimmer of hope lay in the fact that Ulric probably had at most a hundred regular soldiers and could maybe raise twice that number of short-term levies.  Barony Ulric was about sixty leagues from north to south and perhaps one hundred leagues east to west.  Even if Ulric’s dozen or so vassals had two-dozen men each, there was still an awful lot of internal and border area to cover.

That meant there was probably a good chance for escapees, such as this girl, to make it out.  The lava floes between Barony Ulric and the Fire Hills, laden with innumerable twisting passages, caves and tunnels served as veritable hideaways for individuals or small groups.  Tishamon figured that was probably how this poor girl had escaped detection.  They were also the best source of shelter from the fury of Khari’s early return. For some reason this runaway had decided to brave the storm rather than wait it out.  Perhaps she had run out of food, Tishamon certainly hadn’t found any on her.

Tishamon gently rolled the girl onto her side and propped her up with logs covered with some of the many animal skins stored in the cabin.  He put the wailing infant to the girl’s breast to feed.  It was best, he’d decided, to give the newborn every benefit his mother could offer, particularly because she was dying.  After the infant had drunk his fill, he settled down to happily sleep, cuddled in the unresponsive warmth of his mother’s embrace.

Tishamon resumed cleaning his armor.  As the coarse brush flaked away at the dirt and rust, his mind worried at his new problem. How could he deal with his new acquaintances?  If the girl defied all probability and lived, she would be a complete invalid.  He probably should be carving the frozen limbs off her body right now, before gangrene set in.  After a moment’s consideration, he shook his head.  A quadruple amputation on the heels of a childbirth would be enough to kill the healthiest of women, much less a malnourished adolescent who’d just been through a frozen hell-on-earth.  No, he’d worry about that tomorrow, assuming she still lived.

When the infant stirred and cried at dusk, Tishamon still had no answer.  He set aside his armor to roll the still-unconscious girl to her other side and allow the infant to feed.  He could tie the girl to his back and rig the wolf fur carrier to hold the child to his chest, but he still had no place nearby to take them. Except...well, there was the smuggler’s village that had sprung up between the new trade route and Barony Ulric. Under good conditions it was a long day’s walk.  Now, in this snow, it was a day and a half at the least, maybe two.  Three, if he carried the girl.

It was unusually early for Khari to begin her yearly assaults, so the cold and snow might pass. If the past few day’s snow melted, the traveling would be easier.  He could avoid the worst of the mud by sticking to the ridge-lines and rocky ground.

How long could a newborn survive without its mother?  He’d heard of fathers raising children from infancy when the mother died in childbed, but he was not anxious to try it himself.  Tishamon was too fond of his free and wandering life.  Besides, it was likely impossible to find a wet nurse willing to accompany him in his journeys from the Sea of Ice in the north to the human lands far to the south and from the Sea of Mists at the western shores and into the Kesh Plains far east of the Fire Hills.  In good weather he could cover six hundred miles or more in a ten-day. No infant or small child could withstand the rigors of that kind of travel.  

His life depended upon being able to pass through territory infested with active dangers unseen and unheard.  A fussy, squalling child would get them both killed by any wild animals, dragons, bandits or goblinoids within earshot.  Tishamon glanced at the brand just below the girl’s throat and mentally added the possibility of slavers, to the list.

The additional, indiscriminate dangers he accepted but would be unwilling to subject a near-helpless child to also included heat, cold, hunger, storms and the volcanoes that had given the Fire Hills their name.  Once the boy was older, able to keep up and understand the reality of life on the trail, maybe he would take him along, but until then, no.

Over the night, he shifted the girl three times to allow the infant to feed.  Now he understood why new parents always looked so frazzled. He wondered how any babe lived through their first few days of life.  The next morning, however, when the boy opened his greenish-purple eyes to gaze in wonderment at whatever a newborn can see, Tishamon knew.  There was something about the total innocence and trust in that gaze that awakened his protective instincts.  He gently rolled the girl, giving baby a fresh breast to nurse.  He suddenly wrinkled his nose at the smell coming from the baby.  He gingerly unwrapped the wriggling bundle and cleaned it. He tossed the fouled cloth out the door and applied another fragment of the tunic.  After re-bundling the baby, he propped it back in place it next to the girl’s breast.

Looking out through the shuttered window, Tishamon could see the wind had abated and the clouds ran across the sky in tattered streamers toward the southeast.  The storm had broken then.  Now he could hurry up and…wait.  Wait for the weather to warm, if it would, and on the girl.  Would she live or die; or linger on in unconsciousness until she wasted away?

As if in response to his thoughts, he heard a faint moan, almost more of a whimper from the bundle of blankets and hides before the fireplace.  Tishamon hurried to her side.  Her eyes fluttered, then slowly opened, revealing violet eyes with the vertical, catlike pupil of the Elves.  “Where am I?  Have I found the smuggler’s colony?” the words came almost as a whisper.  She looked at the tiny bundle snuggled against her. “This, this is my baby?”

“Yes, that is your son.” Tishamon replied, kneeling next to her. “You’ve escaped the human provinces into the Fire Hills.  You are free, now.”

She looked at her son contentedly sucking away, and smiled sadly.  “My child, conceived by rape and carried in slavery.  His father tortured and burned alive by his mother, and born into freedom by his mother’s death.  My freeborn son, . . . Freeborn . . . ” Her voice trailed off into silence as her eyes lost their focus and stared blankly into space.

“Girl? ..GIRL!” Tishamon shook her shoulder, gently at first, then roughly, trying to bring her back from Death’s door.

“I haven’t much time.” She spoke, each word an effort as she struggled to raise her head.  “Khari will come to collect her price for sparing my baby.”  Her eyes suddenly sharpened, becoming terribly aware as they locked onto his.  “Swear to me, on your life, swear to me that you will care for my son.  Raise him to value life, freedom and justice.  Raise him to stand against evil in all of its forms.” She paused, shallowly gasping for breath, then smiling gratefully at Tishamon, she added, “Raise him to be gentle and kind like you, who took in a helpless stranger, cared for her, delivered her child, then cared for him, too.”

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, and feeling dangerously close to crying, Tishamon nodded. “I swear that I shall do as you ask, my lady.”

She relaxed and let her head sink back onto the pillow of bundled hides.  “Then I am ready to go.  I die in peace.”

Suddenly, the temperature of the room dropped drastically.  Despite the roaring fire, his breath and that of the girl and baby fogged the air.  A faint, high-pitched whistle, like wind in the eaves, caught Tishamon’s ear. Half-fearfully, he raised his eyes from the girl and saw a column of fog and snow in the form of a robed and hooded figure with faintly glowing ice-blue eyes standing in the corner of the cabin, near the hearth.

Impulsively, he jumped to his feet and drew his sword.  “You shall not have her, ice creature!” Tishamon shouted defiantly at the snow wraith.

“Do not defy me, woodsman,” spoke a breathy voice, like the wind tearing through the naked branches of a forest in winter.  “She is here through Khari’s forbearance.  She would have died on the borderlands, and her child with her, had the Ice Queen not given her the ability to go on.”

“Khari is not without mercy. She was impressed when the girl asked not for her own life, but offered her spirit in exchange for the assured survival of her child.  The Mistress of Winter spared her belly and breasts the kiss of cold that the child and its food would be protected.  At the end, my mistress sent one of her Winter Wolves to guide the girl to you.”

The wraith then raised a hand shrouded in swirling snow and fog.  “Do not delay me further, woodsman, Khari is not patient.  All you would accomplish is your own frozen death and cause the infant to slowly die from exposure.”

Reluctantly, Tishamon let the tip of his sword dip to the floor and stepped away from the dying girl. Though the creature came no closer than six feet, Tishamon could feel a chill reach into his bones as it moved past, trailing a tiny shower of frost in its wake.  The creature stopped beside the girl, and held out its hand.

Tishamon watched a misty, girl-like form rise and take the wraith’s hand.  It turned and blew a kiss toward the babe and spoke in a hollow parody of her living voice.  “Do not forget your vow, woodsman.  I will be watching him, and you.”  Both figures then drifted upward through the roof of the cabin.

A heavy sadness weighed at Tishamon’s heart as he sheathed his sword and stepped over to the blanked and hide-covered bundle next to the fireplace.  The girl was dead.  Frozen. Dripping icicles hung from her hair and nose.  Her skin was frost-white and her lips blue.  Suddenly wild with fear for the child, he uncovered the motionless bundle next to the dead girl in time to see it yawn hugely, blink and close its eyes to sleep.

A warm wind began to blow outside, eating the snow away.  In just a few hours, no trace of it was left, save the moistness of the ground. Tishamon hurriedly set to work, cutting one of the smaller skins into narrow strips and fashioned the remainder of the old bedroll into a shroud.  “Freeborn,” he reminded himself.  “His mother named him Freeborn.”  When he was done with that, the girl’s body had thawed enough to wrap in some of the furs and lay in the shroud, which he then sewed shut with the fur strips.

A short distance from the cabin was a crumbling cliff whose base had been undercut by the nearby river in ages past.  The undercut was capped by a thin shelf of sandstone that supported a great pile of loose stone that had fallen from the slowly crumbling cliff above.  After he placed the surprisingly light, pitiful bundle in the undercut, he stepped well back and began one of the few more powerful incantations he knew.  He aimed the spell at the lip of rock above the girl’s corpse.  He worked the tendrils of arcane energy into a hammer of mystical power.  When he finished, the spell shattered a large section of the stone lip into rubble. The scree tumbled down, giving the nameless elf girl a burial mound greater than those given to nobility at the height of the ancient empire.

The girl’s initial question about the smugglers’ camp had not gone unnoticed.  A piece of Tishamon’s mind had captured the comment and begun working on it.  Now, with the girl’s body entombed, and far better protected in death than she’d been in life, the fruits of his mental labors manifested.

Since the dwarves and elves had blocked off the main trade route into Ulric’s province, several bands of enterprising individuals and their families had moved into the borderlands. They’d been buying or stealing items from villages and trade caravans, then taking them into Ulric’s lands to sell or trade.  One of the bands of smugglers had set up a small village nearby.  With only the babe to carry, he could make it shortly after dark.

He would talk to Oscar.   The last time Tishamon had seen him, a few ten-days ago, his wife had been about to have a child.  Perhaps, with a little persuasion and a little gold, they’d not mind another mouth to feed.  At least until he came to claim and raise it, as he’d promised the boy’s mother.  With Freeborn strapped to his chest, and a desperate hope to avoid goblinoids, Tishamon set out through the woods.      

[jollysunflora]

I...I wrote meta on how I think my dæmon would've changed forms and eventually settled THIS IS SUCH A HEART PLAYER THING TO DO

My childhood years aka ages 0-8: all kinds of animals; the sky was the limit

I was a kid, and kids are super flexible and still developing personality wise.

At start of adolescence aka ages 9-12 the forms included:

-northern cardinal

-african lion

-firefly

-canadian goose

-eastern carpenter bee

-mountain goat

-north american elk

-giant panda

-iberian lynx

-bald eagle

-grizzly bear

The majority of animals in this list are considered "exotic", the kind seen on tv or in zoos. At this point in my life I'd be daydreaming of joining my favorite fictional rolemodels (like the Sailor Soldiers) in saving the world. I wanted to inspire others and help them, even if I didn't have the words to express it at the time. The majority of these animals are quite social, but the fact that some are more solitary shows that I was starting to enjoy myself when I was given more independence.

My teenage years aka ages 13-18 the forms included:

-corn snake

-leadbeater's possum

-snow leopard

-komodo dragon

-duck billed platypus

-carrion crow

-monarch butterfly

These animals definitely trend towards the introverted, with only the monarch butterfly being truly extroverted. These were the years I was just angry at everything and knew damn well I didn't fit in with my peers. I also became a lot more comfortable spending my time alone, but I still had those I was close to.

My young adult years aka age 19-23 the forms would include:

-jaguar

-desert night lizard

-leopard gecko

-svalbard reindeer

-sydney funnel webbed spider

-atlantic ghost crab

-madagascar hissing cockroach

These were easily some of the hardest years of my life. If the forms my dæmon took weren't strong and sturdy, they were cold blooded and even included invertebrates. I was very cautious when meeting other people, chose my friends carefully, and generally closed myself off to others. I also had a lot of unexpressed rage. The only exception would be the day I got diagnosed as autistic (at age 20). Ekundayo would've taken the form of a western tanager out of pure joy.

Forms taken right before settling aka right before and after I turned 24:

-california valley quail

-victoria crowned pigeon

These two forms are conflict avoidant. The two birds showed that I was feeling very sensitive at the time, and took things rather personally. I also felt worthless and unneeded in general. Though these forms are fine in and of themselves, in me they manifested as a deep despair that I didn't know how to shake. Considering suicide, I literally begged God for a miracle. Then I had a dream...

Settled form: grey wagtail

I imagine I would've woken to find Ekundayo settled. My settled form reflects my desire to keep going. It shows I've chosen to be true to myself and to persevere throughout any and all difficulties. Also, to create my own bright future. Basically, it's proof of my understanding of my self worth. I chose to be brave and to not give into despair. I chose to take a chance on myself, and continue to do so every day.

So since Merlyse just settled, would you share some thoughts about some of her later shapes? I find it really interesting that she goes from "normal" shapes to primarily desert shapes (the jackal), to primarily tundra/hardy winter shapes (the reindeer, and of course the whiskey jack). Is it reading into it to much to think that this represents Jake's "coldness" as a leader (even before the thing with Tom)?

Wow, thank you so much for this thoughtful question.

So this is an interesting one, because for me the forms unsettled dæmons take mean something a little different from the forms settled dæmons take on. A settled form represents who you are at your core. Unsettled forms can mean that too, and especially more and more as you reach the point of settling, but they also reflect transitory feelings, wants, and needs.

To start with, I wouldn’t characterize Merlyse’s forms at the beginning of Dæmorphing as “normal” exactly. Here’s the forms she takes in the first fic:

St. Bernard

possum

hare

barn owl

sheepdog

goat

These are all mammals that are common and hardy. They’re found all over North America, and they’re all tough and weedy, able to live in heavily human-altered environments. This reflects something about who Jake is at the beginning, an adaptable low-key kind of guy who can fit into all kinds of situations. But it also reflects his feelings, wants, and needs: he thinks of himself as no one special, he doesn’t want to stand out, he’s practical and gets the job done.

When Merlyse then shifts to desert forms, that does reflect a change in Jake as someone who is now more specialized to a harsh circumstance. But it also reflects what he needs right now, which is to see himself as a person who can handle his new role as leader. He’s not only changed, but he wants to understand that change. Contrast that with Quincy at the same point in the series. Cassie has changed, too, but she doesn’t want to understand that about herself, so Quincy reflects that need by continuing to take gentle herbivore forms.

The thing about settling, though, is that it’s not about what you want or what you need. Settling is a merciless mirror. It exposes your innermost self to your sight, whether you like it or not. As the seaman put it in The Golden Compass: “There’s plenty of folks as’d like to have a lion as a dæmon and they end up with a poodle. And till they learn to be satisfied with what they are, they’re going to be fretful about it. Waste of feeling, that is.”

So the shift toward arctic forms was not intended on my part to mean that Jake was getting colder. In fact, in some ways it doesn’t represent a big change from before, because the tundra is actually a desert, from an ecological perspective – the far north gets little rain. It means that Jake is moving toward settling, is starting to hone in on who he is, circling closer and closer to the whiskey jack.

[ahumanfemale]

Professional Distance - I

So AU it’s an alternate galaxy.

Summary:  Dean Winchester is an editor known for his critical eye and keen insight, finding himself a famed name in the world of romance novels. No matter the material that crosses his desk Dean has always been able to maintain his professional distance. Until Donna Hanscum. As if his crush on the effervescent blonde weren't incapacitating enough, now she's introduced a love interest to her latest novel that seems suspiciously like... him.

Author:  (A)HumanFemale

Pairing:  Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

I

Dean Winchester had been an editor for going on twelve years, since graduating college with his degree in literature. A quick study with a critical eye, he’d come with a slew of recommendations from professors and the assurance he’d have a bestseller in his first year. He’d gone into the field hoping to land a position in fantasy or science fiction - dragons and space battles. You want to know where he’d ended up instead?

Romance.

Sweet inspirational love stories and depraved erotica all came across his desk, demanding his careful eye and effortless marketing. It turned out that selling romances was a lot easier when the man selling it was quick with a smile and easy on the eyes. So they told him, anyway. In just over a decade he’d climbed from untested newbie to a big name - someone in demand, who got to be picky about what he took on. There were a few people who had balked at a man editing chick lit but he brushed them off. Oddly enough, he enjoyed it. Romance wasn’t something he’d normally read and that gave him the ability to distance himself enough from the work to be critical of it. To find errors and plot holes that needed to be addressed. The racier stuff didn’t bother him - he was able to maintain his professional distance. It didn’t hurt that all the authors to take the chair across from his desk tended to look and sound like his mother.

Until Donna Hanscum.

That wasn’t the name on her book covers - no, for that she’d chosen something so obviously fake it made him cringe - but it was the one he’d written in his calendar for that afternoon at three o’clock. Donna reminded him exactly nothing of his mother. Where Mary Winchester was sharp lines and wry grins, Donna was all curves and boisterous laughter. She had an accent that constantly made his mouth twitch up in a smile that stayed with him for the rest of the day. She also wrote things that made him loosen his tie and clear his throat when he edited late at night, in bed with his laptop and a beer.

Donna wrote paranormal romance. More specifically, she wrote about a voluptuous blonde whose job was to hunt down and kill the paranormal. Usually with a male partner who was different in every installment, all of whom found themselves enamored with her by the end of the book. After a long hunt and a bloody kill she took her fill of the guy, typically on the hood of her muscle car before driving off into the sunset with a wink and a smile. Unless, of course, they died.

Her work fit the market trend toward this kind of thing perfectly and she wrote it well, keeping her heroine just this side of relatable and worthy of cheering on. Readers ate it up and she was writing full time now, having quit her job as a small town sheriff back in Minnesota.

Which was why they had this meeting set up, discussing the sixth installment of her series. Her first ten chapters were due today and she’d insisted on bringing them in on paper, as she was running behind and hadn’t had a chance to transcribe them to a word document. Fine with him. He thought better when he could scribble notes and refer back to them later.

He checked his clock.

3:12.

“I’m here!” she crowed as though reading his mind, throwing open the door to his office so that the potted plant next to it shook and threatened to topple over. “Sorry! So sorry, Dean, I’m here.”

“I can see that,” he smirked, waiting for her to orient herself as she shut the door and smoothed her wavy hair away from her face. “Make it into the city okay?”

“Oh, yah, always,” she said, facing him with a bright smile as she sashayed her way to him. He did his best to avoid following the sway of her hips as she walked. “How are ya doing, handsome? Working hard?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, always.” She threw herself down into the chair opposite his desk and exhaled loudly. She was dressed in leggings the color of cotton candy with lipstick to match, covered in a bright white poncho with what looked like owls patterned across it. Why in God’s name did this drive him crazy? It wasn’t exactly leather and lace. Still, the thought of peeling it off gave him just as much of a thrill.

He needed to put a lid on it.

“So, uh… you got something for me?”

“Anytime ya want it, sugar,” she said with a lascivious wink that she followed up with a full laugh. Just in case his blood pressure wasn’t high enough. “Just kidding. Yeah, I’ve got it here. Hold on.”

She handed him a leaf of wide-ruled notebook paper, bent and tattered and covered with the flamboyant whirls and loops of her now-familiar handwriting. There were more than a few coffee stains and doodles on the margins, the most common theme being what looked like a unicorn chasing a robber. It was held together with a thick clamp at the top, making it almost impossible to flip through the pages.

“That’s… um. That’s original,” he said lamely, looking over it.

“I know! I’m so sorry. If ya don’t mind waiting a few days I’ll transcribe it but I know they’re holding us to a pretty strict deadline so I didn’t want them to come for your head.”

“I appreciate that,” he said, nodding before gently placing her manuscript to the side. “So, who is Chloe Ransom killing these days? Shapeshifters or ghosts?”

“Tracking a wendigo through the deep dark woods, actually,” she said, beaming. “With a sweet hunk of forest ranger to keep her company, of course.”

“Of course,” he said with a smile. “Well, I have some cover art to go over with you and there have been a few changes in your contract for the next three books…”

-- X --

It was after seven before Dean made it back to his townhouse, yawning and swinging a big bag of takeout along with his briefcase. Donna’s manuscript - such as it was - was like a lead weight on his arm, begging to be hauled up and read to death. He’d told himself that if he got through the other chapters vying for his attention he could read all of Donna’s tonight over dinner. He’d chosen a greasy burger and fries - Chloe Random’s main staple as she flitted from bar to bar, looking for cases and any excuse to pull out the armory in her trunk.

Dean tossed his jacket and tie as he situated himself on one end of his couch, turning to stretch his legs over the cushions. He’d placed a cold beer on the coffee table next to him and kicked his shoes off. Burger in one hand and Donna’s manuscript in the other, he dug in. The handwriting baffled him occasionally but he was able to decipher it if he tilted it far enough to the side.

The first few chapters were easy to fly through. Chloe was back in the saddle after a nest of vampires tried to turn her into lunch in the last book - they’d succeeded with her partner. Poor Sam. But now she was coming out of mourning and out of her recovery, looking to kick some ass. He scribbled a few notes on the sides but Dean didn’t slow down until close to chapter nine, when something like suspicion prickled over his skin.

Chloe stepped into the office, grateful for the air conditioning after the sauna that was the inside her car. Appalachia in the dead heat of summer wasn’t a picnic. She could only hope her deodorant was up to the job, because the man behind the desk ahead of her was more likely to have her sweating than the blazing sun outside.

Dark blond hair cut short and tousled to look like he’d just run his fingers through it, a sharp jaw, and lethally green eyes. A few shallow crow’s feet that turned his face from pretty to something closer to devastating. It was the eyes that held her attention the longest, at least until he smiled. Then her eyes snapped to the ever so slightly elongated canines nestled into his otherwise straight white teeth. A hint of the primal, hidden among the mundane. She couldn’t help her mind wandering to which part of her anatomy he’d sink those teeth into first.

Dean paused, looking up and away from the words on the page.

He fought the urge to run for a mirror, checking his own reflection against the description in the story. Unconsciously his tongue drew up to rub against his top teeth, the ever so slight edge on his canines now roaring to the forefront of his attention. Were they longer? Certainly not longer than average. No one had ever called them out to him, anyway, but there it was... a bare millimeter jutting out from the line of the rest of his teeth.  

His attention went back to the story.

“You must be Detective Ransom,” the supermodel-turned-park ranger said, standing from his chair to offer his hand. Cripes, he was even tall. Just tall enough to make her look up at him through her lashes like the hussy she was.

“That’s me,” she affirmed, taking his hand in her own. Calluses, she noticed. The man did real work. “Sorry, they didn’t give me your name when I left the precinct. I was out the door like a flash.”

“Daniel,” he told her, “Daniel Wesson. But just Dan is fine.”

Son of a bitch.

Dean put the manuscript down to run his hand over his face. Was he crazy? Was he imagining all this? He wasn’t any more or less self-absorbed than the next guy, but come on. There’s seeing yourself in everything and then there’s seeing yourself when someone has obviously written about you.

He finished the remainder of the portion in record time, not even bothering to pick up his pen to make notes. Dan and Chloe sat and talked about the case - a slew of missing hikers, remains never found. Chloe didn’t mention her added knowledge of a pattern just like this one going back forty years, and then another set of disappearances forty years before that. Dan was forthcoming and Chloe was invested, eager to put down the monster and get back to her hometown in Minnesota with enough time for her sister’s wedding. Chapter ten finished with Chloe packing her gear and heading to the mouth of the forest, a flask on her hip and Dan at her side.

His burger had grown cold and his beer had fallen flat at some point but it didn’t matter. The pages in his hand had captivated him to such an extent that he doubted he’d notice if someone kicked in his front door. Before he knew what he was doing he had grabbed his cell phone off the coffee table and flipped to Donna’s number. It was there… inviting him to press on it. A text, even. She was probably still in the city.

Dean closed the application and set the phone back down.

He was getting a little worked up. Overreacting because of his… preoccupation with her. Authors were known to take people and places from their real lives and put them into their fictional ones. That wasn’t so unusual, although he’d never seen a suspiciously similar version of himself in anyone else’s work. The only way to solve this, of course, was more data.

He needed more chapters.

[ayafoxheart]

~Aya Aesthetics~

I have seen this one going around, but have never really been sure of it.  There are so many words to associate with, and I feel like the positives sort of get blurred out.  But after looking over a couple ones today just hot off the presses I decided that this probably does provide some insight, or starting point for perceptions about a character.  I’ve added my own little touch by putting a summary at the end.

[ COLOR ]  red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte.  royal blue. royal purple. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. currant purple. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. magenta. pastels. bubblegum pink. blood red. ivory. sky blue.

[ ELEMENTAL ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. day. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. clouds. light. smoke. umbra. penumbra. char. darkness. ash.

[ BODY ]  claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. stripes. markings. fur. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. sweat. tears. feline. permanent wounds. chubby. curvy. short. tall. height. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoo. rune. strong. weak. birdlike. shapeshifting. junoesque. svelte. long hair. short hair. dark circles. big. voluptuous. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish. effeminate. frightening. ethereal. angelic. demonic. metallic. angular. scales. barbs. vertebrae. barbs. tendrils. tentacles. sharp. soft. unusual. shapely. unnatural. disproportionate. spindly. monstrous.  

[ WEAPONRY ]  fists. swords. daggers. spear. scythe. bow and arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. power loader. flamethrower. metal rods. shotguns. needles. prowess. ability. instinct. bloodthirst. supernatural. inhuman. talons. speed. agility. cunning. reflexes. talons. biomech tendrils.

[ MATERIALS ]  gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. amber. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. copper. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. yarn. slime. ivory. aether. crystal. dark matter. lapis lazuli. emerald. adamantite. wootz. brass. lamé. guipé. bone. moonstone. metalloids. alloys. ceramic. alabaster. marble. aluminum. bismuth. bronze. polonium. chrome. osmium. sand. feather.

[ NATURE/EVINRONMENT ]  grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. holly. lavender. lilies. petals. thorns. sunflowers. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. snow. ice. roots. flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. swamp. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. stars. clouds. mountains. fungi. cliffs. sunlight. moonlight. darkness. wasteland. ruins. void.

[ ANIMALS/CREATURES ] lions. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. roaches. tarantulas. scarabs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantis. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. frogs. bears. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dinosaurs. dragons. felines. foxes. centaurs. antelope. chimeras. demons. angels. parakeets. harpy eagles. seagulls. warblers. birds of paradise. parrots. toucans. orioles. cobras. black mambas. peacocks.

[ FOOD/DRINK ] sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. milk. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies.desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. steak. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies. chocolate. tiramisu. cheesecake. sushi. tempura. pasta. garlic. bread. noodles.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. piercing. watercolors. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. murder. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. baking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. story telling. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. tinkering. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. organ. violin. cello. guitar. electronic guitar.  bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection. reading. learning. lecturing. teaching. murder. torment. tracking. hunting.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. robes. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earring. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. pantyhose. stockings. thigh highs. sleeveless. eyepatch. collar. bangle. torque. gorget. bracers. cuffs. body jewelry. crop tops.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. landscape. diligence. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. misanthropy. loneliness. anger. family. synthetic. friends. assistants. co-workers. plushies. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. drugs. kindness. love. embracing. magitek. futuristic. ancient. science. voidsent. cruelty. trust. mistrust. strength. doubt. reverence. ferocity. danger. automatons. metallic. allure. value. intelligent. revolutionary. defiant. advanced. engines. naïve. temporary. changing. split personality. paradigm shift. freedom. belief.

Summary of Positives:  (With Explanatory Notes! :-D )

[ COLOR ] red.yellow.blue. purple. pink. black. white.silver. gold. grey.metallic. matte.  royal blue. royal purple.charcoal grey. forest green.navy blue. crimson. cream. bubblegum pink. blood red. ivory. sky blue. The colors I most associate with Aya are: Blonde, Blue (Eyes), Red, White, and Black.  Grey, a truer shade than the others.  Forest Green for part of her heart she cannot leave behind.  The rest, physical shades associated with her life (clothing, makeup, jewelry)

[ ELEMENTAL ] fire. ice. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. cold.frost.sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. day. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset.clouds. light. smoke. umbra. penumbra. The beginning of the trend of contradictions held within her character.  Embracing the light and the dark.  Fire within the ice.  Moonlight, sunlight, and every phase of the passing days and seasons which form the entrancing rhythm of life that she taps into as a source of unchanging meaning. [ BODY ] long fingers. teeth.lips.curvy.tall. height.eyes. hands.trained.strong. junoesque. long hair.voluptuous.angelic. soft.shapely. So much of her life, and the meaning she holds for herself and others is wrapped within her form and figure.  [ WEAPONRY ] swords.spear.instinct.speed. agility. cunning. reflexes. Missing: Kicks.  And more meaningfully, charm, innocence, and the knack misdirection and for being easily (and always) underestimated. [ MATERIALS ]  gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies.paper.lace. leather.silk. shadow. That in which she wraps herself, and seeks.  The baubles of a charmed life. [ NATURE/EVINRONMENT ] trees.roses.lavender.petals. snow. ice.flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert.beach.stars. clouds. mountains.sunlight. moonlight. darkness. The contradictions reappear, or perhaps it is simpler: an embrace of life’s many and varied facets.  From the frosted towers of Ishgard, to the burning sands of Thanalan, and the salt spray of Vylbrand, and especially the deep and foreboding forests of Eorzea: Aya finds something to love and appreciate in every environment she frequents. [ ANIMALS/CREATURES ] wolves.birds.crows. foxes. Forever a Hungry Wolf.  The birds she loves and envies.  A Crow by birth, and a Fox by manner. [ FOOD/DRINK ] sugar.water. wine.coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple.cherry. vegetables. fruits. cream.berries.cinnamon.vanilla. cookies. bread. She leans toward the sweet and decadent in drinks. The sumptuous and spicy when eating in public, and the simple and familiar when eating alone. [ HOBBIES ] music. art.writing. training. dancing. acting. singing.martial arts. self-defense.technology. tinkering. theater. libraries. books.poetry.piano.motorcycle riding.climbing.running. reading. Dancing, and nearly every aspect of performance.  She loves to be active.  Climbing the towers of Ishgard was a method of finding peace, one she has not surrendered.  But there is a contemplative side to her that emerges in the quiet and solitary moments-- at least when it dares. [I’ve oft imagined her with a magitek motorcycle, I think she would enjoy it too much]. [ STYLE ] lingerie.dress. boots. heels. leggings.skirt. shorts. jewelry. earring. necklace. bracelet. ring.hat.circlet.cloaks. corsets. belt. sash. coat.hood. gloves. makeup.stockings. thigh highs. sleeveless.body jewelry. crop tops. Aya is comfortable in almost any fashions, but she has her favorites.  High heels, body jewelry, and any outfit that allows her to draw attention to her figure.  [ MISC ] cityscape. landscape.light. dark. candles. war. peace. money.photos. mirrors.sadness. happiness. optimism.realism.loneliness.family.friends.co-workers. plushies.loyalty. kindness. love. embracing. magitek. trust. mistrust. strength. doubt. reverence. ferocity. allure.intelligent.defiant.freedom. The contradictions again.  In many ways Aya lives in a constant struggle between who she is and who she wants to be, if she can even figure that last bit out...

Rules : BOLD what applies to your muse. Remember to REPOST. Feel free to add to the list ! Tagged by : @nightmaze @mythrilreflections (and others, sorry for not listing you!) Tagging : I’ve seen this one circulating through my inbox a lot lately so I am not planning on tagging anyone new, but I always read them and am happy to be tagged in any new posts of this type! :)

[yosua-066]

RPG-based story characters

i haven’t figured out their names all out yet, as well as their overall backstories and how to tie it all together. however, i do want to make the following characters possible:

-a sword hero (i think that’s a pretty big classic). i figured to make his personality bright and confident, as should follow a cliche.

-a mage (and to follow the trend, SH’s childhood friend uwu). i thought of making her stupidly powerful but her timid personality somewhat offsets it.

-a monk character. unlike the upstanding, spiritual beacons that they’re commonly known for, i want him to be very jaded - even bitter - about the world. his revelation comes when he learns to overcome his own internal obstacles.

-a mercenary character. i want his weapon design to be similar to the ones from Bloodborne. his overall character scheme is that of someone who is very easy to get along with, but has a grim past he blissfully forgot about. his “ascension” comes from his remembering those parts about himself, and coming to terms that he is someone different.

-a dragon knight character. i’ve always loved the idea of physically-powerful women; i think it’s incredibly empowering and breaks a lot of traditional stereotypes that girls in games are almost always classes such as mages and the like. i dont want her to be overly rowdy and boastful, but someone of honor and skill. in a sense, she’s very Athena-esque.

-two archer characters. i specifically mention two archers because of Innes and Tana from Fire Emblem. and similarly, i want them to be siblings, albeit in different disciplines (the sister being versed in recurves, and the brother wielding the crossbow). i think it’d be interesting to bring in two people bonded by blood, but inherently different in their views of the world. the younger brother has an innocent, naive perspective, while the older sister has a hardened, cold view.

-a pirate character. i thought of bringing in guns into this world, thus showing that this universe has reached a point in technology in which they’re able to utilize machinery to some pretty good extent. if anything, i think it’d be great to have a Granblue Fantasy sort of schematic. i was thinking of making the pirate a woman.

-a knight character. this character was inspired only a few days ago as i was perusing through a few of my older game collections and found shining force! i remember how all the lance-wielding characters tended to lean towards those of centaur heritage, and that’s what i think i’ll do as well. having different races other than humans not only adds a fantasy element, but i think it can also pave ways to introducing the reader to different cultures as well, especially one that isn’t entirely human. this character would definitely hit it off well with the dragon knight character.

that’s all for now. i’m definitely planning to think of more in terms of character design, but i also want to focus on the plot! i dont want it to be overly cliche, like the party comes to defeat a singular, ultimate antagonist who is objectively evil.

[thelawyerthatwaspromised]

I have to question whether people understand basic concepts like “aggressive invasion” and “diplomacy” (and hell, apparently you can add “imprisonment” to the list now) if they think Dany and the Starks are being shown as equivalents.

Even with the “darkening” of the Starks - there’s a very obvious contrast the show gives the Starks as compared to anyone else. When one of the show creators goes out his way to distinguish Sansa’s humanity with Daenerys’ cold brutality when it comes to ruling, it only confirms what we see on screen; Daenerys behaves like a character trending obviously towards that of an antagonist.

I’d say even with what the show’s done with the Starks, there’s STILL been a very clear distinction between the grounded humble House Stark versus the We Suck Without Dragons House Targaryen.

The show (and books) didn’t include Ned having such a huge effect on Jon only to have him decide to go full dragon and suddenly love the thoughts of fire and blood and burning people alive.

Stark/Dany Show Changes and Morally Equivalent Violence

Whenever Dany’s violent tendencies are scrutinized, that kid at the back of the class pipes up: 

“But Jon executed an annoying little boy!”

“But Sansa fed her rapist to his dogs!”

“But Arya genocided House Frey!”

“But Jon killed people to take back Winterfell tooooooo!”

#1 and #2 are most definitely show inventions. #3 likely isn’t happening in the books (people predict it will be Stoneheart). #4 has a chance of happening, but is the weakest example of “violence” on this list. 

Dany fans criticize D&D for writing Dany as darker than her book version, while using the show changes for the Starks to justify her actions. This is contradictory. Let me rephrase it another way: they want to use the invented scenes for the Starks to excuse Dany’s invented scenes, claiming they are morally equivalent, while insisting she won’t be doing those things in the books anyway. So which is it? Is she “not that bad,” or is she bad enough that her stans insist that her characterization is wrong? Seems they want to have it both ways. 

One question I have is, why did D&D make these changes to the Starks. Other than “bad writing,” (which is ALWAYS the best explanation) it may be another example of frat boy trolling. D&D sacrifice character development for shocking moments. So for now they’re humoring audiences with the idea that the Starks are “dark" too, and on par with whatever Dany has done (arguably, they’re false equivalencies - but for a second, let’s pretend that they are not). 

Will the show continue to frame Dany and the Starks as morally equivalent actors? I don’t think this conceit can be sustained, because the Starks are the family who must have an inherently different moral code than everyone else. Dany’s track record so far isn’t that promising. She’s been counselled to show mercy, and sometimes she does, sometimes she doesn’t. It seems to depend on how she’s feeling that day (like whether she’s gotten laid or not *cough*).

It has to lead to a point at which Stark justice and Targaryen justice is laid bare to the audience. The moral line that no Stark will cross. If Dany destroys an entire city of a million people, that’s far worse than whatever “dark stuff” the Starks have done.  

[kendorworld]

The known natural history of Fongyu begins about 90 million years ago, when almost all life on the planet was wiped out by a global electrical storm that set the atmosphere alight and boiled the oceans. Before this, no one knows what kind of creatures walked the planet, although calculations suggest that there was a high concentration of oxygen in the atmosphere.

After a 10,000 year period of rainfall that brought the oceans back, and the global temperature trending back toward the equilibrium, life once again emerged from the seas and burrows onto land. Rainforests flourished as new pollinators developed mutualistic relationships with the plants. Large reptiles and amphibians stalked the forests as apex predators.

After only another million years or so, global temperatures reached their peak and began to decline. Glaciers crept out from the poles, and the large, cold-blooded creatures, who had once relied on the sun’s warmth, were forced to adapt or die out. The first ice age was afoot. Some reptiles, the tsucho, survived by growing thick, branching scales to trap heat. Others, now called the kanua, buried themselves underground heat-traps.

Over time, the tsucho’s thick scales developed into feathers, and the kanua became able to make their own body heat and grew fur, allowing them to make longer trips for food out of their burrows without freezing. For millions of years, the tsucho were the predators, and the kanua, their prey.

Fongyu went through many, many more ice-age cycles, and over time, the kanua began to expand into other niches. They collectively developed heightened senses of sight and smell, becoming scavengers and pack hunters. They continued to grow in both diversity and size until the largest among them were on par with the size of the largest tsucho. At this point, the kanua had become what we now know as mammals. The descendants of the ancient tsucho are the modern-day dinosaurs and dragons.

In the modern day, humans worldwide have domesticated or tamed about a half-dozen different species of mammal, and one species of dinosaur. In most of the world, dinosaurs have become extinct altogether, their only vestiges being their descendants, the birds. Dragons are extraordinarily rare, with under 100 existing worldwide.