#the flowers i used for design and his antlers are called

[grapefood]

Pink Leshy is back!!!

[mostautisticangel]

Hiii

I'd love to hear about Halfway to Heroes!!! :3

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOLY SHIT OKAY STRAP YOURSELVES IN MOTHERFUCKERS (affectionate) im putting this behind a keep reading tag bc i know its gonna get long

SO. ITS A MAGICAL FANTASY ADVENTURE STORY WITH THE CLASSIC FANTASY TROPE OF THE WORLD BEING COMPRISED OF FOUR MAIN ELEMENTS. THE WORLD IS CALLED RHIMIAD. THERE ARE SIX KINGDOMS. okay hold on let me calm down.

Firstly: there are three deities. they have many names. The Holy Trinity, the Land, Sky and Sea, The Three Deities (very creative). Their true names are Rhimiad, the earth goddess, Rowan, the moon god, and Vyvienne, the sun goddess. I call them gods and goddesses but not like you're thinking. its a title that the Rhimiads (inhabitants of Rhimiad. is it confusing? i dont care!) give to them. They are the land, sun, and moon itself. The people just personified them

Rhimiad created the Rhimiads and named them after herself. at this point they're exactly like humans. She also created a bunch of other magical creatures. like ugly ass unicorns and pocket sized dragons and birds the size of cars.

Vyvienne was especially fond of them, and blessed a few of them with the power of the winds. The sky and winds were her domain. This fundamentally changed these Rhimiads, and now they had a connection to Vyvienne. they had the ability to "walk" on the wind, see through heavy storms, and summon a gale when necessary. They were called Wind Walkers. you dont have to capitalize it i just wanted to lol oh yeah they look different too. they have feathers instead of hair, bird-like eyes, and talons for hands. they can also make bird noises :3

Rowan liked that idea and he chose a few Rhimiads to bless with his powers. His domain was the cold night and the ocean. He blessed two tribes. One, he gave the power of the ocean. they could summon water from their fingertips, thrive underwater without the need for oxygen (and i mean without oxygen, not that they had gills) and could see no matter how dark it was. they had webbed hands, scales on their forearms, shins, and cheeks, fish-like eyes, fins for ears, and amphibian-esque tails. (can you tell these are my favorite) they were called water weilders. The other tribe, Rowan blessed with the power of the snow. They could see through snowstorms, stay warm in any temperature, had heightened senses of smell and taste, summon small flurries and icicles, and had an innate sense of direction. They were basically furries uhm part polar bear ig. they had animal noses, fur on their face, AND whiskers :3 and ice blue eyes. like big and cold blue. theyre called winter weilders.

Rhimiad decided to do what her kids did (did i mention the sun and moon were her kids? sorry yeah they are haha) and bless a few rhimiads. She gave them the power of the earth, they could summon flowers (specifically ONLY flowers) talk to animals, heal nature, you get the gist. they look a lil different, theyre also like furries. but any basic woodland animal. they'll have the tail, the ears/antlers, nose, whiskers, fur, all that. like a squirrel or a deer. also males and females both have antlers because fuck biology character design is cool. They can make whatever noises that animal makes too. theyre called wild watchers.

theyres still a bunch of Rhimiads with no magic, but thats fiine. they can still use the magical plants and whatever magical artifacts to brew potions and use wands or whatever. they just dont have any special connection to a deity.

anyways they made colonies and standard creachur behavior, there was a war between the water and winter weilders so now they hate each other and the winter weilders call themselves frost finders now. they dont care that the have the same god ig. (do not ask what the war was about. i definitely have an answer i just dont want to share it. for. reasons.)

now we're in modern day. there are six kingdoms in Rhimiad currently. each kingdom was founded by a certain tribe, and that population dominates each kingdom, but anyone can live anywhere. mostly. you'll see. Let me explain them each in excruciating detail.

Pyovere - The kingdom of wind, sky, sun, and storms. The kingdom itself is a series of floating islands (!!) shaped like rings, all encasing each other. The closer you get to the center, the more extravagant it is, and in the center is the Pyoverian Palace, the pinnacle of opulence and elegance in all of Rhimiad. The furthest islands are called the Outskirts, and are basically like the slums. the wind walkers live here if you couldn't tell. i based it on pre-revolution era france. will there be a revolution? i have nooooooo idea ;)

Floraison - The kingdom of earth, nature, and creatures and critters. Its a sprawling collection of quiet villages and massive cities. by far the largest kingdom. at the center, perched on the side of an active volcano, is the Pyoverian Palace. this one is home to wild watchers. i picked and choosed elements from all kinds of middle eastern/south asian cultures but this one is mostly based off india

Aquatique - for the water weilders. and only the water weilders. not even non-magic rhimiads. this kingdom is underwater and nobody knows where to find it. trade is conducted via soldiers carrying crates of supplies deep underwater, and making sure nobody follows. its not like anyone could if they wanted to. The ruler still attends diplomatic meetings. but nobody else leaves the kingdom. very little is known about it. i didnt base this one off any particular culture, i just made shit up :P

Krybrot - the kingdom of snow, jewels, and comfort. by far the richest kingdom. Its up in the mountains, covered in snow year-round. they have a direct agreement with Floraison for the exchange of ores for food. they have the Krybrot Castle,, where the royalty lives year-round, and the Crystal Palace, a palace made of ice for the yearly blue moon ball. its an event to praise Rowan. The royal family emerges, putting on a display for the public before hiding away in the castle again.

Quillion - the kingdom where all the non- water weilders went after the water weilding tribe decided to move into the ocean. havent done much work on this one

Erromar - another kingdom for primarily non-magic rhimiads. founded by an insane wizard like 300 years ago. i dont know. just go with it.

PHEW WORLDBUILDING DONE. NOW TIME FOR THE PLOT AND CHARACTERS. YOU THOUGHT WE WERE DONE??? WE'RE JUST GETTING STARTED

Main cast:

Yvette Lancaster - he/him, 18, prince of Pyovere, spoiled rich kid whos scared of everything and wouldn't hurt a fly. his father made a deal with the goddess Vyvienne so he has a special type of magic. he has sun powers. not fire. sun. he glows and can summon light and also look directly at the sun. the coolest power imo. he has a halo but not like a ring halo like those gold disk ones you see in medieval paintings. it glows too. i love it. he's my baby. he's a rich snobby bastard. he can't lift up a sword. he's everything. he's also gonna be king even though he does NOT want that, he wants his twin sister to rule instead. she's the older one. she just doesnt have magic. but their dad gave up his life to vyvienne and their mom has a favorite. so.

Yvonne Lancaster - she/her, 18, non-magic, princess of Pyovere, possibly the most powerful sorceress in Rhimiad's history and she knows it. complete and utter asshole. acts like shes better than everyone. like she deserves the goddess' blessing. she deserves the throne more than her pathetic twat of a brother. she was taught magic by one of the only two stars in the sky (even if she didnt know it)(i forgot to mention the stars. theyre not deities. theyre just kinda there. but yeah theres only two of them. pim and pix. i hate them. theyre so silly.) she hates everyone except one person.

Lynne Schire - she/her, 18, wind walker, the one person yvonne doesnt hate. she moved ffrom the outskirts to the palace at a young age. rather, she ran away from the outskirts, spent two years wasting what little money she had on gambling and alcohol, ran away from people she owed money to and ended up at the palace gates, pleading to the guard to be let in. yvonne happened to be outside at the time and let her in. they became best friends. theyre also in love. but they dont know it yet. lynne is the only one who can tolerate yvonne's bullshit. she doesnt fix it tho. kinda fucked up if you ask me

Palliana-Roe "Roe" Beyberry - she/her, 11, water weilder AND frost finder (rowan liked her personally so he gave her both traits. she hides her water weilder features and pretends to be a frost finder) she joins the gang after plot things happen and they end up in krybrot, looking for a guide to take them to Floraison. She's the princess of Krybrot, but she ran away when she was 8 cause her family sucked and kind of hated her. nobody has come looking for her. she's five foot zero and wields a giant axe. she doesnt take bullshit from anyone. classic character archetype of small child who is also a criminal. girlboss.

Seyuna Hazure - she/they, 28, water weilder, pirate mom. its the best way to describe them. they are loud and obnoxious and the captain of the most respected fleet in all of Quillion, the twilight trinity. The flagship is the SIlver Sinner, Seyuna's pride and joy. there are also a bunch of other characters in her crew but theyre not as important. still love them tho. she adopts Roe even tho roe doesnt want this (she does). they are so silly. they also are very skilled in combat and have excellent connections. dont ask how they got involved with the gang. its complicated.

Kaspian - he/it, 19, non magic. he's the son of the big bad guy. i will expplain that bit later. anyways he may or may not be my self-insert and he is the general of the bad guy army and he's very cool and swag. just kidding that was a lie he's a fucking loser. he can hold a sword and say inspiring things to his troops but cant do shit in a fight. but everyone believes he's the pinnacle of courage and bravery. an illusion he struggles to uphold. anyways he falls in love with yvette because i said so. also he becomes good at some point. he may or may not be killed off im still deciding.

so the big bad. right. i forgot to mention this but each of the deities have a favorite Rhimiad. vyvienne chose yvette, rowan chose palliana-roe, and rhimiad chose the big bad. theyre called the champions. big bad only goes by "Rhimiad's Champion" or "Rhimiad's Heir." very normal person behavior. each of these champions can talk to the deity DIRECTLY. although we dont know that because yvette doesnt talk about it and roe isnt sharing the fact that she's the champion. but Rhimiad's Champion talks about it. he said that Rhimiad told him that the other deities are fake and that rhimiad is the true one. Rhimiad said to wipe out the world, leaving only the non-magic people and wild watchers. he has been succesful thus far. people believe him, because who are they to refute the will of a goddess.

the kicker? he's fucking right. Rhimiad did tell him to do this shit. partially. Rhimiad's true orders were to wipe out the entire world and then kill her. her Champion thought this would scare people so he pretended she meant to keep non-magic people and wild watchers.

You see, Rhimiad is nothing like what the people think she is. oh no no no no. Rhimiad is located in the Void, a place abandoned by space or time. completley dark. She gave birth to her children, the sun and moon. she screated the rhimiads to live on her. she was happy, all alone.

now you might be thinking "cool. why does she want to die." because sshe wants to be free from her prison. the Void is a prison. she used to live in the Universe, with the countless other deities who encompassed their own worlds. But she is a cruel and heartless creature. She grew jealous of another goddess, Nmoroca, and slaughtered her entire population. Nmoroca is now a pitiful barren wasteland. the other deities banished her to the void, and sent two stars to watch her. (thats pim and pix btw) she is allowed to do whatever she wants in the Void, since she is trapped.

however, the Void is not the real world. if you die in the Void, it means nothing. You simply......leave the Void. You are welcomed to the Universe. all Rhimiads from countless generations ago who have died know this truth. they now live on many of the other deities, even Nmoroca, who is slowly being rebuilt.

Rhimiad wants to return. however, she it immortal, so she needs to be killed. She cant leave her rhimiads behind, though, so she ordered her champion to slaughter them all first.

the stars dont know this, so they dont try to stop her.

the sun and moon dont know this, so they get mad at her champion for saying such obvious lies.

OKAY I THINK THATS EVERYTHING?????? I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT THE REST OF THE DEITIES IN THE UNIVERSE IF YOU WANT. PLEASE TELL ME YOUR FAV CHARACTERS AND/OR KINGDOMS. ILSY THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME INFODUMP. I WILL HAVE ART SOMEDAY

[ofglories]

Title: To Meet Upon a Spring Eve warnings: N/A Characters: Emrys (as Ambrosius) Time Period: Pre-Camelot, prior to Ambrosius' defection from Rome

He walked through the woods, stars he had never seen before wheeling overhead through the dense branches.

The path was barely visible in the star and moonlight, a trail of bluebells and cowslip, dotted with smooth, white stones. As he walked the flowers grew denser, as did the trees themselves. Heavy and ancient oaks, wild rowans, and between them brambles and ferns. Like a forest from a dream. All the more so as his guides grew in number.

What had started with one, a willowy Fae he had recognized from aiding with a task some months prior, had swiftly grown into a practical parade. Beings the man had never seen before weaved between the various humanoid Fair Folk, all shimmering ever so slightly in the twilight shadows. A stag with coat and antlers a pure, blinding white dashed across the path before him, pausing only a moment to look at him with dark eyes filled with countless stars, before hurrying on its way. Strange butterflies flitted through the air, glowing softly like they had absorbed the gentle light of candle flames. More and more, and all the time the willowy Fae he recognized kept a gentle hand on his wrist, tugging him along through a forest that no longer felt like it belonged in the mortal plane.

Then his guide stopped at a clearing, where a stream flowed in a circle around and beneath the curtain of branches of a willow, older than anything he had seen before. They smiled at him, waving him on towards the stone path through the water, through the leaves.

And, with a deep breath, Ambrosius stepped forth.

"Well come and well met, child of the stars," a voice called out, coming from a tall, broad man with a gentle expression upon his face. Long white hair covered his head, his clothes made of both fur and seemingly leaves of an ancient design that he could not place. But upon his head, crowning him, sprouted a pair of magnificent antlers, winding and twisting together like tree branches, with ribbons and jewels hanging from them. "Come close, child, I wish to look upon thee and speak."

Another Fae?

But the air felt different within this willow canopy. Bright and alive and powerful, more than it ever had with the other Fair Folk Ambrosius had encountered so far.

Like something...from another time.

Still, he remembered the lessons his mother's stories had told, the important old tales. And, bowing his head somewhat, Ambrosius approached the man.

"I am honored to meet you, my lord, though I must admit to not knowing who I have the pleasure of addressing this evening." A warm hand, so large it could have crushed his head easily, cupped his cheek, lifting his face. To meet eyes like those of the stag's from earlier. Deep and endless, with stars and galaxies swirling in their depths. But the chill he experienced with the deer did not come this time, offset instead by the gentle, almost grandfatherly smile upon the strange man's face.

For a brief moment the endless stars seemed to clear, a soft blue in their place that reminded him of his mother's eyes. Only for a moment.

"I am," something was said, a language that sounded more like the rustling of leaves, the flowing of water over stone, than proper words. Ambrosius blinked, a small frown forming. With a snort the man shook his head slowly, tapping his free hand against his chin. "Ah, forgive me, child. I momentarily forgot myself. Age can fog even the minds of us divinities. In times past, thy ancestors called me Cernunnos. I would prefer to be called thus."

Divinity?

Cernunnos?

It made little sense, but... "Forgive me, Lord Cernunnos, but I must wonder what a presumed deity would wish with myself? I am...just a soldier." That was all Ambrosius ever was. Ever had been.

"Just a soldier, and yet thou has done much to help my children wheresoever thine paths did meet." Cernunnos chuckled, a deep rumbling noise that sounded like waves upon a distant shore. Like an oak swaying in high winds. "Modesty suits thee, but do not let it blind thine eyes to thy true worth. But the night is short, for mortal children. And mortal child thou are yet, though a star blazes in thy breast. So, unto thee I have prepared a gift. A blessing of protection, picked by my young Willow who owes a great debt."

A flower was plucked from Cernunnos' branches, soon joined by a berry and, with a squeeze of the god's hand, in their place was a small piece of familiar candied honey.

Something that seemed to amuse the divinity, if the crinkling of his eyes was anything to go on.

"That's...?"

"I learned long ago that mortals prefer such gifts to be subtle in form upon their giving. So it takes the appearance and taste of a favored treat in thy life. Now," he pressed the candy to Ambrosius' mouth before the soldier could react, eyes wide as he met the endless stars in inky depths once more, "eat this and know that it will grant thee my favor. No poison of mortal or mundane creation will bring thou to harm, and those of magical means shall not bring immediate death nor incurable harm. Thus speaks I."

The candy was pushed past his lips, melting away like snow instead of the solid sweet it felt like.

And then it all began to spin before his eyes, everything blurring as Ambrosius gasped and fell, legs suddenly weak. Before sleep fully pulled him under the soldier saw Cernunnos' lips move once more...

"Lord of Nature and God of the Fae, I, Cernunnos, grant this gift."

Then nothing.

Hours later he woke, blinking slowly, as sunlight warmed his face and the taste of honey filled his mouth. The only proof it had not been a dream.

[lanaevyssmoved]

Do you have any other bg3 ocs other than afhiri? If yes then is it okay to tell us about them ? If no then why (again if its okay to talk about this) ?

hihihi yes i do!!!!!!!!!! i've been asked a question like this before and i haven't improved with talking about them since so i clearly haven't learnt a thing in that time but since things have changed since then i will update :D

my character page currently only hosts bg3 ocs, and you can find it here! i've only really worked on afhiri's page however so it's basically just basic information.. however i've also hit this point where i feel like i probably can't actually play bg3 as anyone but afhiri? it would feel.. wrong. so.. bare that in mind

last time i did this i included pictures but i won't this time because one of my main ocs literally can't have a picture unless i.. worked with an artist to finalise it's design. and i don't see that happening and that oc is too important to feel like the loser no picture in a sea of pictures LKSDJFDSFDSF

uhhh undercut so i'm not too annoying !!!!!!!!! warning i wrote A LOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!

so afhiri wasn't my first playthrough! in fact the oc of my first playthrough is on my blog!!! all the way back on release! however this was back when i wasn't reeallyyyy that talkative on tumblr so there's only a tiny bit.

that oc is default name tav, because my nonbinary ass fucking loves that name ngl. tav is a half wood-elf strong body oath of the ancients paladin. they use they/he pronouns and are transmasc. his background is folk hero and he is lawful good, and is the typical hero paladin - all about justice and honour and order. tav pushed gale away from the crown as hard as possible and is quite a domineering force to reckon with. my favourite part of tav is how they do not fit the oath of the ancients at all - let's look at oath of the ancients closely for a moment.

The Oath of the Ancients is as old as the race of elves and the rituals of the druids. Sometimes called fey knights, green knights, or horned knights, paladins who swear this oath cast their lot with the side of the light in the cosmic struggle against darkness because they love the beautiful and life-giving things of the world, not necessarily because they believe in principles of honor, courage, and justice. They adorn their armor and clothing with images of growing things-leaves, antlers, or flowers-to reflect their commitment to preserving life and light in the world. Kindle the Light. Through your acts of mercy, kindness, and forgiveness, kindle the light of hope in the world, beating back despair. Shelter the Light. Where there is good, beauty, love, and laughter in the world, stand against the wickedness that would swallow it. Where life flourishes, stand against the forces that would render it barren. Preserve Your Own Light. Delight in song and laughter, in beauty and art. If you allow the light to die in your own heart, you can't preserve it in the world. Be the Light. Be a glorious beacon for all who live in despair. Let the light of your joy and courage shine forth in all your deeds.

tav isn't about mercy, kindness or forgiveness. tab truly believes in the principles of honour, courage and justice. tav isn't singing and dancing and laughing, enjoying the arts. but that doesn't matter. tav finds toril to be beautiful, worth preserving and worth protecting. worth dying for. tav has a spiritual moment with the myconids that had them on their knees in tears at how overwhelming the underdark is and the beauty of the life there - never seen before by his eyes. while tav doesn't fit what the ancients oath is - tav believes in it wholeheartedly, adorning themselves in rich greens the best they can to represent their oath. the hypocricy of tav is the charm point - he would be much better suited for many of the other oaths. but that would be surface level devotion. tav is alive to protect this world, that's all that matters. due to the conflicts in tav, he breaks his oath 6 times - and reclaims it each time. he is doing his best. ^_^

tav is very close with halsin and jaheira, and has a headbutting romantic relationship with gale. he likes minsc, wyll and karlach. lae'zel and he have a relationship based on sparring and mutual respect in skill of combat. he's neutral with shadowheart and antagonistic to astarion - who is killed in act 1. minthara is also dead. tav struggles with the emperor because they can't decide if they believe illithids to be abhorrent to the world, or another beautiful thing they don't understand - but ultimately sides with orpheus.

tav also exists in au form in afhiri's universe as an npc!

~~~

my next protagonist is asura. asura is my evil playthrough! who i've promised myself i will do eventually. eventually..... asura is not the dark urge and is just a tav. my idea of asura was to create a character full of hubris and hunger for power. my tadpole eating half-illithid turned illithid. she uses she/her exclusively, except after transformation to illithid she also uses it/its. asura is a coffelock (sorcerer aberrant mind + warlock great old one). her background is noble and is evil aligned - i'm not sure exactly where currently.. most likely neutral evil, shifting to lawful evil later on. this is the 'gale take the crown' and 'ascend astarion' and 'sharran shadowheart' etc character.

i currently have her set to romance minthara, i really like the idea of doing the 'thrall army invade menzoberranzan' ending with them both, where they take over the underdark and rule it together, with hunger for more always simmering.

asura is not a good person, but isn't like a murder hobbo. she thinks she is better than everyone, that she is the most deserving of power, but also enjoys the corruption of others and treats people as playthings to be used, enjoyed, thrown away. turning the other companions more evil aligned and fucking with their morals is pleasurable for her. she enjoys making people squirm and kneel.

her relationship with minthara is tricky because asura would never submit, but in time they both find each other to be equal and worthy of respect. does not mean it's at all healthy and there's not some fuckery going on. minthara is slow dosing poison to asura while asura is casting spells on her like she's a guinea pig without consent. toxic gfs!

asura isn't close with anyone but minthara, but is on 'good' terms with sharran shadowheart and lae'zel. she is antagonist with gale and astarion. wyll, karlach, halsin, jaheira and minsc are dead. asura is the lover of the emperor, and sides with him, but i would be remiss to call them true allies. you can also assume pretty much everyone killable is dead here.. or tormented in some way. some people are left alive for the fun of ruining their lives or twisting them into something worse.

~~~

and now we have my durge! my durge has been more heavily featured on my blog because i tried to play her - until her save bugged out and durge exclusive cutscenes wouldn't play and would just skip? so i quit :D

my durge is rue. named intentionally as rue is in the word durge, rue this day, etc etc. rue is also later known as rue the impaler, lovingly. rue uses she/her exclusively. she is a half drow, and her starter class is sorcerer. as her story progresses, she specs into barbarian. both wild magic! her alignment is true neutral, and consistently shifts in multiple directions, highlighting the conflict within her.

when i made rue she was entirely based on those fucked up kitten memes. where it's just like, a kitten. and the text is MURDER MAIM VIOLENCE etc for no reason... yeah. think of rue as a kitten with spiked out fur looking all disheveled. when designing her looks i thought about those like emo girls who wear massively oversized jumpers and ripped up tights and thick fucking boots and they are super tiny.

rue is primarily a resist urge, but that isn't always the case. she has enough moral compasses surrounding her to keep her mostly on a better track, with intent to preserve her soul and secure herself a good afterlife, instead of whatever she assumes will come of her if she follows what her father desires. rue firmly believes she will live a short life and with the help of those around her, tries her hardest.

i have been having thoughts of shoving rue into afhiri's canon instead of having her as her own protagonist - but i'm not sold on that yet.

rue isn't particularly close with anyone except her love interest, wyll. she is on good to decent terms with karlach, gale, shadowheart, halsin, jaheira and minsc, all of them playing their part in assisting rue when she needs it - moral compass and redemption wise. she is neutral with lae'zel. astarion and minthara are both dead. she is antagonist with the emperor, siding with orpheus.

~~~

all ocs from here on are NOT protagonists!

since i started with tav on the protagonists, i'll start with.. tav here! but not the same tav! and they have the same name with intent! bare with me.

tav is tav's twin sibling. the actual given named tav is my paladin, their twin sibling, tav, simply took their name.. with intent to fuck with them. i have never given tav an actual name because it's not important - it's dead as far as they are concerned. just two tav's, man. to keep it easy, when referring to my protagonist paladin tav i'll just say paladin tav.

tav is a half-wood elf (obviously) college of whispers bard and inquisitive rogue multiclass. they exclusively use they/them pronouns. their alignment is neutrally aligned, shifting between true neutral and chaotic neutral.

tav is both a member of the zhentarim and the guild - playing both sides, loyal to neither. constantly risking their own neck, finding pleasure in the danger of it, the collection of information and gold, always lying and staying two steps ahead. tav has both a romantic relationship with rugan and nine-fingers, the former for petty information as they works the zhent ladder, and the later proof of conquest as they've already climbed the ladder and made their way to the top - granting them some protection when people whisper of their duel allegiance. if push came to shove, they'd leave it all and go to another part of toril and start again.

you can see how a character like this can do damage to paladin tav's reputation, the name being referred to as a thief and a snake who works in the black markets and threatening innocent folks. this is why his twin stole his name - not only is it funny to ruin their siblings reputation, but it also means that sometimes the name can be referred to as the noble deeds of a paladin, using it to their advantage.

tav is both a part of paladin tavs universe and afhiri's!

~~~

i'll talk about druthaea next, or rather just dru. dru was originally a protagonist whos story didn't work in context of the games endings so much so that i'd have to rewrite much of the game to make it work that i just.. gave up, because i wasn't passionate enough to go through that effort and make sure it makes sense.

dru's original story was going to be a story of pushing the powerful of the story to surpass their opressors or gods. gale becomes the new god of magic, shadowheart surpasses shar and takes her place as the god of loss, lae'zel rules the githyanki people, ascendant astarion, etc. however you can see how much work i would have to put in to make some of that work right.. yeah. okay. moving on to what she is now LOL

dru is a high elf who truly, with her entire soul, believes she is an eladrin, as in noble (fey) eladrin. she uses she/her pronouns. she is a wild magic sorcerer - blessed to her when she stumbled upon the fey realm one time, the source of her delusions.

dru lives the life one would akin to a crazy wizard, locked within her tower pouring over tomes and messing with deadly experiments, however she doesn't spec into wizard - she isn't stable enough to actually study and improve with learnt magic - she just.. fucks around and finds out.

she does unfortunately suffer quite a great deal in her disillusionment, having dreams or rather nightmares that reveal her truth - that she is just a common eladrin, a high elf, and not greater. dru exists, for me, as a trans allegory heavy on dysphoria, as well as suffering from hallucinations and other less pleasant things that would require a trigger warning on this post. she is quite dear to me for these reasons.

while existing in afhiri's universe now, she and afhiri never meet - she is just a piece of that world.

~~~

next is candor, who is very well developed and has been developing alongside afhiri for some time now.

candor is a solar, a type of angel. highest in rank, most powerful of all the angels. in 5e lore, there are only a few solar at a time, i believe currently there are 24 known. zariel was a solar before she fell. candor is exiled before the events of the game, though the choice was his own. having been in service of lathander for millennia, the events of one moment in history led him to seek exile - to find himself and his purpose.

candor has been heavily intertwined with existing realms lore for my own purposes, so if you're really into the realms lore you might not like what i do with candor? or whatever so. many stop here cuz you probs won't like the oc after either LOL

for gameplay reasons (candor is a hireling in game for afhiri), he is a cleric of lathander, light subclass, and a redemption paladin (devotion in game). in actual canon, candor doesn't have a class, and is just a 'monster', large celestial. he uses he/it pronouns, and is lawful good.

the lore that candor ties into is the lore of the blood of lathander, which is his weapon. it was candor who acted as the avatar of lathander and and smote the fallen chosen of mystra, sammaster. it was his blood that was spilled, and his mace that was left in the care of the priests. during the course of the story, candor is reunited with his mace.

on toril, during its exile, candor takes the form of a tiefling - having seen a small tiefling child playing, taking the form to approach her and introduce himself to the world of toril, pretending to be an average person there, not an angel of high regard. he keeps watch of this tiefling child, noting something different about them, and finding a need within himself to protect and guide her, giving himself purpose during his self imposed exile from the upper planes. this tiefling child is blessed with wild magic by the time he meets them - and uses his power to stop that wild magic from causing any harm or damage to themselves or those around them from a distance.

when this tiefling child is a child no more, setting out on their own to adventure, candor approaches again with a proper introduction - having studied the people of baldur's gate and surrounding land, calling himself candor, having chose the name for himself as a virtue name akin to that of other tiefling it has met, hoping the tiefling understood it's meaning.. but they didn't, much to candors dismay.

if you haven't already guessed, the child no more is afhiri! candor acts as a full companion over the course of the game, and is the only reason afhiri is able to survive her wild magic (while not understanding it's coming from her and not realising how dangerous it can be) and survive the wilds and her adventures for the year she travels before the events of the game. much of candors early development came from "wait a minute how the fuck is afhiri alive" because uh.. the clown wouldn't be. she just wouldn't!

over the course of the game, candor has an interesting dynamic with gale, who candor distrusts inherently due to his position of a wizard, ex-chosen of mystra, and ex-lover of mystra. at the end of the game, candor feels content with his work on toril, and returns to the upper planes, agreeing to work in service of lathander again, his mace in hand. during my 3 years later fic, when afhiri is unfortunately killed, it is candor who greets her soul in limbo, and begins escorting her to lathander, who candor has worked hard with to make him accept afhiri despite her lack of faith in.. well anything, but is ripped from candor when gale resurrects her. that doesn't do much for their sour relationship lol.

candor and afhiri have a romantic relationship, but it isn't anything you would expect. candor is as close to a god as afhiri gets to personally experience - solar are incredible beings, powerful enough to choose if they even serve a god, completely capable of acting of their own free will... but at no point does afhiri really understand that. not even when candor reveals his status at the monestary, or shows his true form before leaving at the end of the game.. or when candor is literally escorting afhiri to her afterlife. so from afhiri's point of view, candor is a hot tiefling with a thing about authority and order and justice but, yknow its hot. so. but to candor, afhiri is his charge, self appointed, and its purpose on toril has become mentoring her, keeping watch of her, caring for her. candor is an angel who falls for the being its supposed to be impartially guiding to faith, and keep alive.. because she needs help with that. it isn't a health dynamic (like i am won't to do with my afhiri teehees) but it isn't toxic, it's just imbalanced... on one side.. because afhiri isn't aware it's imbalanced.. again i remind it isn't because it's kept from her - it's because she's thick as shit. sorry afhiri.

since candor is a companion for afhiri - i'll share some of his interpersonal relationships. obviously he is antagonistic with gale, but the pair came to a mutual agreement to at least try not to hate each other in front of afhiri, who obviously doesn't enjoy them fighting (except for the fact it's kinda hot. sigh). candor mostly stays to themselves, but has had pleasant conversations with lae'zel, halsin and jaheira, and surprisingly thought-provoking ones with minsc. candor is antagonistic to astarion and shadowheart (for the most part) and friendly with wyll and karlach. candor does not approve of the emperor, or afhiri's growing infatuation with it.

if you ever want an oc to talk about to get me going crazy that isn't afhiri............. your best best is candor.

~~~

lastly we have cirok, also part of afhiri's universe, and becomes a major player in her story in my 3 years later fic.

cirok is a rivener, which is an unearthed arcana homebrew race. riveners are kaortis, or rather the failed or incomplete transformation of person to kaorti. for those unaware, kaorti are made similarly to that for a mindflayer, consider a rivener to be conceptionally similar to a half-illithid in bg3, which is half an incomplete transformation. cirok uses it/they/he pronouns.

its class is phantom rogue, the description is important for you to understand cirok as a character.

Many rogues walk a fine line between life and death, risking their own lives and taking the lives of others. While adventuring on that line, some rogues discover a mystical connection to death itself. These rogues take knowledge from the dead and become immersed in negative energy, eventually becoming like ghosts. Thieves' guilds value them as highly effective information gatherers and spies. Many shadar-kai of the Shadowfell are masters of these macabre techniques, and some are willing to teach this path. In places like Thay in the Forgotten Realms and Karrnath in Eberron, where many necromancers practice their craft, a Phantom can become a wizard's confidant and right hand. In temples of gods of death, the Phantom might work as an agent to track down those who try to cheat death and to recover knowledge that might otherwise be lost to the grave. How did you discover this grim power? Did you sleep in a graveyard and awaken to your new abilities? Or did you cultivate them in a temple or thieves' guild dedicated to a deity of death?

cirok, over the course of my story, acts as gale's right hand. going out and gathering information, finding lost and hidden things, whatever is required of it. they are gale's shadow.

gale uses his magic to keep ciroks condition under check, placing mental barriers in its mind to help retain its humanity and sense of self, keeping a place for them to maintain their resin without interruption or risk, occassionally assisting in the task.

the relationship between cirok and gale is strained and difficult, they fight and argue, they make love with teeth and claws, acting as an outlet of frustration for one another in many ways. but cirok is loyal, doing everything asked of them with no complains.

however afhiri is often there to sweeten the deal, despite not actually needing to - she just enjoys it. the pair never fight, though cirok does find afhiri to be quite exhausting to be around, occassionally reaching points of irritation and annoyance, though rarely expressed due to it understanding afhiri isn't seeking to bring those feelings out, but the exact opposite.

afhiri generally doesn't mediate the fights between gale and cirok, instead choosing instead to stay out of it. they don't understand half of what they're talking about - what causes the bickering. you're likely to see afhiri sitting on gale's desk kicking her legs while the two reach boiling point. the only time afhiri would speak up is if things turned violent, or are about to by reading their body language. afhiri is an expert at talking to people, after all - if anyone is going to stop these two killing each other, it's her.

without cirok, gale's plans of immortality, and eventual godhood with afhiri wouldn't make much progress, potentially it wouldn't find any success without it.

much of cirok is still under works and it requires more development! but i am super interested in cirok as a character, and the ot3 dynamic of afhiri/cirok/gale!!!

~~~

ok that's it. i stop here. LSDKFJ SI HOPE THIS IS DETAILED ENOUGH FOR U ANON!!!!!! I DID MY BEST

[eli-elien]

henlo :DDD i am here for the Ask Game!!

2, 5, 11, 14, 30

this makes me sound like im ordering from a drive through XD

2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even)

I think a left 3rd view of the face is the easiest second to that is facing forward

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself

60% or so is for myself the rest if I think its good I'll post online and you already seen what I usually post on servers being stupid lil doodles lol

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what

YEEEESSS III LOOOOVE MUSIC

Honestly this has turned into a playlist of music I just love that happens to relate even to one lyric about my boy lol

but specifically these:

and you definitely know why I've been listening to this one ;)

14. Any favorite motifs

There's alot and since this is my post and my answers and you're my friend

I WONT SPARE YOU THE ESSAY YOU'VE UNLEASHED

So I love love wolves/dogs and rabbits/deer as both are very interesting the differences between dogs and wolves is a fact of freedom, that sure a wolf miiight listen to you (but mostly bc of food or other sources you might give them I mean they're wild) while a dog is absolutely domesticated but...they still bite and when pushed they WILL fight back even if they're loyal

Rabbits and deer esp when combined for a Jackalope are two things: my love of contrasts and double meanings and metaphors for transness!! I see antlers personally, esp since its different between sexes in deer when it comes them and growing/shedding them as a trans thing idk how to explain it lol

now with the contrasts and double meanings with rabbits!! its such a cute lil fluffy thing but its interesting when the rabbit bites down, when you see that the black and white world-view of carnivores and vegetarians are actually blurred and that during winter they'll eat meat when its available most animals and esp rabbits are very opportunistic

and ofc there's the predator and prey aspects of both between dogs/deer and wolves/rabbits!!!

also side note but I also been loving lizards/shrikes and returning to the classic motif for reverie: foxes/ravens (both clever beings that get a bad rap in fairy tales)

also I looooove fairy tales and myths, William several folk tales that I got inspired by, I wonder what sorta scenes and designs and skills based of these: Red Riding Hood (#1 FAIRY TALE) Anything with the big bad wolf, sleeping beuty, beuty and the beast, the white knight/prince charming motif, witches motif, and hansel and grentel but what if one of the kids take the other instead of a parent? Can you really call that your sibling?

like for instance Will has his red cloak that acts as a red "heroic and prince charming/white knight" cape that also has a red hood, not too mention his motivations are mainly pure righteousness and his desinated roles by the story are either prince charming/white knight or love interest (mainly both if he was saving a princess from the princess pov but instead he's saving and protecting the "evil" dragon)

alsoooo MORE CONTRASTS like life/death and growth/rot and sun/moon and ice/fire (again these can be applied to will who has a rot curse but inherant magic for healing and being related to plants and also ice and fire magic

also persephone/hades dynamic esp where you think on the surface its the cute bubbly life and flowers girlie (doesn't even have to be a girl again: will) with their gloomy dark death and rot guy (yes this is talking about the dragon guy buuut he's honestly more of a dark golden retreiver that would eat and kill anyone who messes with will who also has 1 braincell that uses 60% of it to think abt will)

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

honestly every one of my oc stuff cuz man I put alot of effort into this shit and since this is my post I'll post the ones that I think aren't getting enough attention

I don't think this is underated but putting this here bc I did it on a tablet with a shitty diy stylus that didn't even give me good control and I think I deserve something for how well this came out under those circumstances

ALSOOO!!! IF YOU'RE INTERESTED IN WILL THEN PLS SEND ME ASKS I NEED TO TALK MORE ABOUT HIIIIM

[the-lunar-library]

How I Spent Years Figuring Out My Book's Cover

I don't have any experience in advertising, and my digital art skills are limited, and every article on self-publishing urges you not to do your own cover, and probably they are right. But I did my own cover, and I thought I'd share some of the process. The figuring out how it should look part, not the technical part.

For a long time, I just practiced playing around with images. These weren't finished products by any means.

This image from early 2019 was one of my favorites. It's supposed to represent my protagonist Yew, reflecting on her ruined village and, by extension, some of her choices. The set up is straightforward – tragic woman gradating into a creepy graveyard. I felt it looked very similar to other covers I'd seen, which is both a good and a bad thing. A cover should clue you in to the tone and genre, so having set symbols and moods is helpful. On the other hand, you don't want your book to look like a million other people's.

Silent-film-era actress Mary Astor is standing in for Yew. The painting is by Caspar David Friedrich. To the best of my knowledge, both images are in the public domain.

For a while, I played with collages. (Pretty much all the stock photos/art is from Pixabay, which I found to be extremely helpful.) I liked the way these gothic windows formed frames, and I wanted to include both protagonists, Eider and Yew. This never made it fully into a test cover, but I did a few versions of this image, both with just photos and also including original art.

(Please admire my stock photo Iron Stag with his candle-antlers. I worked hard affixing each little flame to each little tine.)

The background I used here (Image Source: Freestock.com) is unromantically called “Plastic Chunks” in my files.

I also really like the ceiling paintings of Jules-Edmond-Charles Lachaise, so I experimented using one as a frame.

Above is a Yew cover, and below is an Eider cover.

I can't remember where I picked the asset(s?) for this background, but I suspect it was also Freestock.

I eventually decided on having both heroines front and center, each paired with an antler from one of the two mysterious stags in the story. This focal point would be a hand-drawn piece of art with less obtrusive public domain stock stuff framing it. I wanted the picture to be intricate, feel fairy-taleish, and include different elements from the story – a snake, a diary, flowers, mirror shards, a pear, seeds, antlers, and a hand mirror.

My first sketch had the basic idea down, but it was very long and skinny and with the title as part of the drawing it felt too tattoo-y to me. Though, looking closely, I see I included Pete the mule's head (upside down, just under the word “magic”), and it's sad he didn't make the final cut.

So I made the image more of a circle and worked really hard until I was proud of it.

From there, I just had to decide on which assets to use and what colors to go for. I really liked the combination of dark desaturated reds and blues in this one, along with the very gothic doily frame. However, it also felt somewhat cluttered, maybe a better design for a poster than something that was going to have text on top of it.

There's also a lot I like about this one, the cold colors, the blending of ice and aged iron. (The original title for the novel was The Iron Claws.) But again, that border felt like it would be fighting with any text thrown over it.

I was also concerned whether the central image would look too small and muddled in thumbnail, so I did this very stripped down version. I wasn't a big fan of it, but it's interesting.

(By the way, you may have noticed that none of these share the actual dimensions of my real book cover. I hadn't even done the page layout yet at this point, and this was all very much in the testing stage.)

As it turned out, I was on the right track with the earlier gothic doily cover. Aside from the hand-drawn image, I ended up going with different assets, most notably a smaller frame, deeper colors, and additional borders along the sides. (This image also isn't in the proper scale.) I did this cover over and over again, making little adjustments until I was satisfied.

What do you think? Did I make the right call?

Here’s info on the book itself: THE PRICE AND PREY OF MAGIC

[twotailednekomata]

Session 2 of my Lifegen game!!! (Part 1)

(Session 1)

*Best impression of an old, British man* Here we see a cat, that we have dubbed 'Freezestrike', attempt to gracefully leap over a stream next to the SongClan camp.

Unfortunately for the young feline, she has failed her stunt and felled face first into the river, much to the mirth of her friends, Premafrostnip and Rowaneyes. Luckily for her, the river wasn't very deep but she is still drenched, head to tail, in water.

*normal* Honestly, the reason I drew Premafrost and Rowan here is due to the fact they were the only cats of Freeze's age that I had solid designs for ♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ Even then, I gave Rowan a little tweak (& Premafrost but it's relatively minor).

<< Rowan: "Allergies? Freeze, you know I'm-"

Rowan: *sneezes*

Freeze: (◎_◎ ;) >>

Same moon but this time a dialogue prompt with Rowan. Girl believes she is made of tough stuff but unfortunately her allergies are ruining her image. Freeze is a little concern for her health. Also, another design tweak for Rowan ˄·͈༝·͈˄

<< They promised to develop their friendship >>

(Same moon as the last two)

Parsley has been Freeze's crush since they were kits and, honestly, I should've drawn her more often (and Freeze's other close relationships). Parsley and Freeze always hang out and gave blushing side glances to each other and others in Freeze's circle definitely took noticed.

Freeze, here, confronts Parsley with the fact he has a crush on her and, surprisingly, Parsley reveals she feels the same for him. They decide that they will hang out more and develop their friendship (=^ェ^=)

<< Antlershock (they/flower/flowers/flowerself): "Do you think 5 healers is enough?" >>

Just me pointing out the obscene about of healers the clan has *rolls eyes*. But, hay! At least we've finally met a few of them!

These two are Antlershock and flowers son, Freckleblur (he/they) >:3 Antler is one of Freeze's parental figures and a bit of a troublesome bitch. In game, they have the traits 'daring' and 'great decorator' (hence all the plants flower is wearing) and they taught Freezekit the hunting crouch.

Let me repeat: Antlershock, a clan healer, taught a literal kit how to do the hunting crouch used for, well, hunting!

Flower is also a huge matchmaker, being the one to encourage Freeze to pursue her crush the most. Flower even gave him a piece of prey in order to help swoon Parsley. (I don't remember when, but it happened)

Also, their sprite's quite pretty and I may or may not have decorated it a bit - > - ;

Freezestrike doesn't chat with Freckleblur often but he seems like a sweet guy. In game traits are 'loving' and 'good fighter'.

<< Snowtrail (he/him): "Behold!"

Snowtrail: "Bamboo!" >>

Alright, Moon 19 a.k.a my excuse to draw all of Freezestrike's littermates because they desire attention ( ๑ÒωÓ๑ )

First up is humble, fantastic tunneler Snowtrail! Plus his childhood ladybug pet Skitterbug :3 He just sorta vibes and does occasional caving but he is one of Freeze's closest littermates, alongside another we'll get to shortly.

On this moon, Snow decided to grow some bamboo next to his nest in order to get some extra shade by lakeside his clan calls home.

<< Premafrostnip: "Stop singing..." >>

Well, speak of the devil, here is Premafrostnip, Freeze's closest littermate! I've already talked about her a bit last time but she is just a feisty, challenge-lover she-cat ♡(>ω< ✿) Her in-game traits are 'oblivious' and 'multilingual', hence the drawing which was base on a prompt that mentioned her 'politely' asking a bird to stop singing so that she can sleep.

I may have forgotten the 'politely' part...

The bird is shocked that a cat can understand and communicate with it and fears the implications.

Side note: Premafrostkit asked Freezekit whether or not they'll end up as siblings that bicker with each other and hate each other and even fight against each other! Freezekit quickly promises she'll not let that happen to their relationship and Premafrostkit swears to it.

<< Premafrost: "Borealisfur!"

Borealisfur (he/him): ʱªʱªʱª(ᕑᗢूᓫ∗) >>

Borealisfur, oh Borealisfur. Borealis was the sibling that Freeze didn't like due to his manipulative and uptight attitude. In fact, the comet moth wing he wears is one of the many gifts that cats have showered him with when he was a kit.

To make matters worse, he was mentored by Tadpolesnow (he/him), Tangle's mate and the deputy that Freeze looked up do. That officially made them rivels (｀^ ´) Thankfully, Freeze graduated first.

Borealis has loosen up from his more attention hogging kit-hood (in game traits are 'adventurous' and 'pathfinder') and he and Freeze have a more friendly rivalry type of sibling relationship: Willing to pick on each other but not wishing any true ill intent.

Here, after Freezestrike points out that Premafrost does not have a spider on her tail, Premafrost is calling Borealis out for his bullshit while he enjoys himself.

Side note: I intentionally tried to make Borealishfur look like a Freezestrike doppelgänger by having them share similar traits such as limb fur and flopped ears.

Freezestrike and Snowflakefrond (he/him) chat about the ownership of a bug :-)

Snowflakefrond is the most recent healer of SongClan. As per tradition, he wears a type of plant of him, which, in his case, is some mistletoe. Snowflake's traits are 'troublesome', 'philosopher' and 'dog-whisperer' and his mentor was actually Antlershock.

Honestly, I don't focus much on Snowflake and he is more of a background character but, via traits only, he is an interesting character.

A redraw of some in-game patrol art, featuring a slightly redesigned Rivernose that actually features her lime bow that I forgot to draw last time (;ﾞ°´ω°´) !

Behind her is Borealis and, in front, a new face ᵔ ᴥ ᵔ Howlpaw (she/her) was a kit that Freeze and Parsley found alongside another cat (I forgot who). I would have made them adopt her if it we've for the fact that a., Both Freeze and Parsley were very young (not even 2 years old) and not mates yet and b., Howl was 5 moons old and about to be apprenticed. Not saying it's impossible to adopt at that age but I didn't see the point.

I believe Howl was 7 moons old at this point.

Next moon, finally! As well as the first appearance of Parsley's and Rowan's littermate (the last of the trio), Riftbillow (he/him)!

Rift's arrogant personality clashes with Freeze's so he doesn't like him but we tolerate him because he is practically family. Ironically, when I went to insult him one time, Rift mentioned how all the cats here are apart of a clan so therefore he and Freeze should put aside their differences and I can't help but find that slightly funny as well as shocking.

Rift also has the trait 'guardian' and has a worm friend that is not drawn here. The flower he is wearing is a morning glory gifted to him by Rivernose.

In the above picture, Freezestrike had observed Rowaneyes' talking Riftbillow's ears off but he isn't snapping back, just carrying on with his day disgruntle.

.

Welp, this has been a very fun session so far (=^ェ^=) Let's see what the patrols have to offer-

What da fuck!!!

[gardenergulfie]

What Empires SMP Member’s canonical chats would be if Empires was a streamed series

Starting off with a few of the easier/more canonical ones

Scott: Owls for sure. He can already understand them and uses them for messages so they fit perfectly! The subs get cool little talon-bands with golden engravings of snowflakes and antlers, to fit the theme. 

Lizzie: She gets Axolotls! They float along in some swirling water that Lizzie controls cause Ocean Deity. The subs get helmets and some loose armor to reprisent being her knights

Jimmy: Cod chat! Like Lizzie they swim alongside him in water, but unlike Lizzie he doesnt control it and when there’s no natural water they just sit in a bucket. The subs get detailed scale patterns like koi.

Katherine: I’m torn between living flowers that can whisper and speak because Katherine uses us to spy (has used comments to know what’s happening in the server) and placed giant flower watchers in other kingdoms OR having chat be little fairies but like Legend Of Zelda Navi style. Just a glowing orb with wings. But also we could be cats too! Many possibilities here. I think the fairies would be the most canon. Subs would have more detailed wings like butterflies or dragonflies.

Sausage: Ok so i know he calls his viewer spies ravens but consider, blood lambs. We can be little carnivorous sheepies that he sometimes picks up and carries around. Subs have larger and more curled horns.

Pearl: DUCKLINGS! Little ducklings following our queen duck! Fluffy and smol and perfect for being picked up. Subs would be bigger/more grown up ducks with more feathers being grown the longer you sub for.

Gem: Little dragons! But not like real dragons like the egg little dragons made of purple fire! Manifestations of her magic! Subs would have other colors like magenta and blue and be longer/brighter

fWhip: I think they’d be little robots that he made! They’re covered in soot cause his forge is so messy and they’re made of copper and powered by deepslate redstone. Most of them would only be the size of your hand but subs would probably be bigger or have fancier upgrades, like wings or lights or grabby hands

Pix: Little lost souls that haven’t moved on yet. Think the soulsand particles. Probably firey like Gem’s but more transparent. Other people can’t see them only Pix can! The subs have more visible features and are more opaque

Joel: GLARES! Little mossy boyos! Oh! Or redsand dust bunnies! Either way Joel is just covered in them. Very clingy. Subs would either have different colored flowers for the glares or have specks of colored concrete powder in their dusty bodies for the bunnies

Shrub: As with Katherine i am stuck between 3 good ideas: kinda spectral wolves who are the guardians of the forest and the subs get to have cool star and leaf designs in their fur, woodpeckers and the subs get to be different species like pileated or downy, or little mushrooms with legs and hands aka those mushroom guardians she has but so much smaller and the subs get different colored tops. All of them are good just pick your fav

Joey: Was stuck here for a bit before i realized, ocelots. Just a bunch of lazy cats that like to lounge around him. He sometimes dramatically has one around his neck like a scarf. The subs get pretty collars in the Lost Empire’s colors.

Bonus Xornoth: If he was a streamer and a different person then Scott his chat would be little corruption sprouts that twist around his arms and horns. The subs have flowers and thorns as opposed to being just vines

[codgod-moved]

We'll go on then. What piercings would the hermits each have

okay i’m gonna be writing these in the same order i’m drawing them on my lineup thing because it’s easier. it’s up in the air whether or not i’ll incorporate all of these into my designs for them but some of the more specific ones Are already part of my designs lol

mumbo has his single earring in his left ear, ofc. no idea when/why i started doing that but it’s a thing. i wanna say a lip piercing too just for fun because i don’t actually draw him with a mouth. he has no lip to pierce but he did it anyway

grian has something similar (single earring on the left) but i DO know the reason behind that, it’s the same reason he has the pointy ears in the first place; link legendofzelda :3

impulse i feel would have just regular lobe piercings that he doesn’t wear anymore, and they’ve mostly healed over anyway so he couldn’t even if he wanted to

tango: spider bites. just the vibes

zed would have a BUNCH of ear piercings and nothing else. all studs and like one industrial piercing, he wants to observe SOME lab safety, but he’ll get out the dangly ones occasionally for special occasions. i think he collects funky novelty earrings too. dragon tendencies and all that

beef gets a septum piercing. cow :3

pearl has a few ear piercings but mainly only wears the lobe ones. maybe a nose piercing too she feels like the type

keralis has those cheek piercings that make it look like you have dimples. you know the ones. plus some fairly small gauges just for fun

bdubs has an eyebrow piercing, both lobes pierced, and two *googles* helix? piercings on one ear + a cuff on the other (not a piercing but it’s connected to one of his earrings). also a septum piercing he doesn’t wear anymore

etho has a tongue piercing just because i think it’d be funny if he had one u can’t see

doc doesn’t have any, he’s worried he would accidentally explode if he tried to get one because of the pain so he hasn’t bothered

ren has one piercing in his right ear. nobody has told him it’s the gay ear yet and nobody intends to (he does know he just doesn’t care #AllyForLife 🏳️‍🌈)

cleo has pretty much the same as bdubs’ ear piercings but the cuff is on the opposite ear and she has two lobe piercings either side instead of just one. she didn’t get her ears pierced herself they just came like that when she found them

joe has two lobe piercings on one side and one on the other

stress just has regular lobe piercings, she tends to accessorise in other ways

iskall i think would be the same as impulse but he’s like me where his ears have been pierced for so long that they don’t heal over anymore, so he still has the option to wear earrings if he wants

cub i think would just have one helix earring that he probably got on a dare

scar doesn’t have any actual piercings but he does own a large collection of those magnetic/clip on ones. i don’t know why i think this suits him but it does

jevin does not have any because he is slime. one time he did shove a diamond in the side of his face and called it an earring though

wels i don’t think would have many because they’d clink against his armour and the sound would get annoying. maybe like one of those nose bridge piercings idk what they’re called. the ones that go in between ur eyes

xisuma has just regular lobe piercings and exclusively wears plain black studs EXCEPT when he was a bee. then they were little flower studs

false i think wouldn’t have any or she’d just have like, an eyebrow ring

gem doesn’t have any, she just uses her antlers to dangle shiny things off of

aaand idk about hypno, xb, and tfc

thank u all for coming to my ted talk

[thebiscuiteternal]

Can I ask for uh... Sangyu fluff? My boys deserved better. Love all your fics btw

I had an idea a long while ago where in a happier timeline, the Jin Bros ask Nie Huaisang to help Mo Xuanyu find an artistic outlet for his emotional distress because he's too scared of all the Jin sect teachers to work with them and Huaisang's the only painter they personally know who'd have the free time. Let's play with that one.

(doesn't get fully shippy, but Xuanyu definitely has a crush. and may be turning into Ancient Chinese Junji Ito with his teacher's full encouragement.)

__________

Mo Xuanyu leaned forward to rest his elbows on the wall to keep himself from rocking back and forth on his feet.

If he'd been able to wait somewhere more private, he wouldn't have bothered trying to hide his fidgeting. His brothers let it slide, and so did Nie-xiong and Jin-xiao-furen. But out here, where other family and the sect teachers and disciples could see, it was important not to draw too much attention to himself.

It was fine. He was fine. Nie-xiong was never late for his lessons without sending word first, and he only had to wait a little bit longer.

He perked up when he saw the familiar figure in green and grey, standing out among the wash of yellow, then turned to grab his finished projects and bolted towards the courtyards.

By the time he got within greeting distance, Nie-xiong was chatting with one of the merchants who'd come to meet with his father, but gave him an indulgent smile as he approached.

"Apologies for cutting this short, xiansheng, but I'm off to meet with my student."

"Not a problem," the merchant replied jovially. "Always a pleasure talking shop with you, Nie-gongzi."

Mo Xuanyu was proud of himself for not turning a bright pink when Nie-xiong gently put an arm around his shoulders to guide him off to their usual spot.

It was nothing new. Nie-xiong had always been one for casual contact, much more so than either of his brothers.

But recently...

Recently...

He'd started feeling... weird about it. Not weird like the discomfort he got around the teachers and disciples, or back at his aunt's house, more like...

He put the thought out of his head as they entered the private gardens where Jin-xiao-furen's lotus pond was situated.

As soon as she'd heard about the planned lessons, she'd immediately offered the space for them to use, and he would always be grateful for that. While the other disciples weren't stupid enough to do anything in front of a visiting young master, it was nice having somewhere safe.

"Alright, then," Nie-xiong said with a smile as he removed the bag from his shoulder and began setting up materials. "What do you have for me today, Yu-er?"

A giddy eagerness flooded him, so opposite the fear teachers asking to see his work usually gave him. He plopped the sheaf of finished drawings onto the table and spread them out for study. "I tried to remember what you said, about turning any accidental blotches into part of the picture instead of trying to hide them."

"So I see! Your line work has gotten much steadier and more detailed, too. Especially in your monsters."

"That's... that's okay, right?" Mo Xuanyu asked. "It's not too much?"

Nie-xiong rested his chin on one hand and raised an eyebrow. "I recall telling you that you could design the creatures however as you wanted for this project. Did someone say something about it?"

The back of his neck began to prickle with anxious sweat. He bit his lip and ducked his head, unable to look Nie-xiong in the eye. "Um-"

Hands moved into his line of vision, a familiar offering he gladly accepted by grabbing on with his own.

"There's nothing here to be afraid of, Yu-er. It's just you, me, the flowers, and your monsters."

"Me, you, the flowers, and-" he couldn't help the smallest giggle, "-my monsters."

"There we go. Do you want to tell me what happened? We can just move on if you don't."

He had to think about it.

He trusted Nie-xiong more than anyone else in the world, even his brothers. But if he tried to interfere...

He swallowed, then licked his lips nervously. "Move on."

"Alright." Nie-xiong gave his hands a squeeze, then let go. "Moving on."

Relieved, Mo Xuanyu lifted his gaze back to his drawings as Nie-xiong began talking about ways to do the detailing in areas like the demon sheep's wool or the deer-cat's antlers without getting the accidental smudges like he'd made.

And if, during the explanations, his hands found their way back to clutching one of Nie-xiong's, his teacher was kind enough not to call attention to it.

[oh-boy-me]

Demon Outfits Discussed

The wait is over :) thank you for your patience and all the lovely comments on the casual discussion!!

I feel like it got longer this time, so I hope it’s all an enjoyable read!  Also, I apologize for the ugly pictures--it was the easiest and fastest way to both have all the design in one image and also prevent it from stretching so far.

Like last time, please don’t take this too seriously; we love these boys and Justin doesn’t know them but has no grudges against them.  We’re just harping on their fashion sense.  Absolutely no hate is intended towards the boys or the design team!

Participants in the discussion were

Jo ( @jodaneko ), our art major with storyboarding/character design experience, who finds they have more in common with Satan each passing day.

Justin ( @justinlester0629 ), our fashion expert, who dressed up and filled a wine glass with water for the occasion.

Noodle (Me), our untrained eye who owns the Barbie as the Island Princess video game on three different platforms.  It’s not even that good.

Featuring emergency guest star Megan ( @maggo77​ ), my sister who is physically near me as we look at the backs of their designs for the first time.

Edit: Distracted by the pretty jacket, we made a mistake when putting in Levi’s silhouette rating.  It’s the worst.  2/10, not 6.

Lucifer:

“Boy looks like he’s about to swing open the doors of an expensive mansion during a debutante party and give some SCATHING NEWS.” —Justin

“Short shoulder cape and a long split butt cape lol” —Jo

Jo has realized that based on both outfits, Lucifer doesn’t want people looking at his butt.  Possible reasons are: he doesn’t have one, or Diavolo someone was getting distracted.

His shoes match his outfit.  After last time that’s all I care about.

A triple popped color, and how many layers is the middle one?  Is that a book?  Dude has like 27 collars.

The forehead diamond is very important and it’s great that there are diamond buttons to match it.  But uh.  How about those red diamonds on his sleeves.  They.  They sure are there.  (I actually like the red accents and that they match his gloves; I just can’t take the diamonds seriously.)

  Lucifer 🤝 Some Horses Diamond on the Forehead

The peacock motif is HERE and we’re all living for it.  HOWEVER, the feathers on the cape and coattails should have matched, OR there should have been more lime green because there’s so little of that color.

The pants have a pleat in the front, which Justin says means he responsibly irons his clothes, and Jo says only heightens the fact that under the capes this is a marching uniform.

Can he fly?  Jo says these are baby wings that can’t support his weight, and his cape has a hole for the top pair but blocks the bottom pair?  Can’t believe Lucifer handicapped himself for the sake of fashion.

The red makes it regal and the wide flowy design makes it imposing.  Good job, Lucifer!  I might actually be intimidated if I saw you.

Definitely the classiest outfit.  You can tell they put care into it.

Mammon:

“BITCH MY BODY CANNOT TAKE THIS KIND OF SEXY, I THINK I AM OVERHEATING!  NO MORE FURTHER COMMENTS, YOUR HONOR.  HAUTE AND HOT.” —Justin

The whole thing does amazing with only three colors.  We’ve noticed the trend of black and white + one color, but I mean hey.  It’s working so far.

Damn those pants sit low.  No wonder literally all of you wear belts.

The leather jacket?  The studs and harness?  Bless.  Justin calls it “the perfect blend of stylish and ‘I’ll see you tonight *wink*’”.

Kind of don’t like how the belts connect to the pants, though.  It looks better in the back.

“He found a really cool jacket, but it didn’t pair with anything so he just didn’t wear anything.” —Jo

Honestly though?  We’ve all made fun of Mammon for having big hoe energy in his outfits, but like, he knew he had wings and planned his outfit to accommodate for that.  He’s the only one who didn’t cut holes in his outfit.  Maybe Mammon was the smallest hoe after all.

Also if there’s a motif it repeats elsewhere, like the studs and diamonds on his jacket and pants.  Did he and Lucifer have a “tastefully putting diamonds on my outfit” battle?  Because Mammon definitely won.

One of the charms broke off the belt loop and he never bothered to replace it, and honestly thank god there isn’t two of those anymore.

Torn between wishing the boots were tighter to match the rest of the outfit and saying “yoooo they’re open in the back!!!”

Ok so so far we’ve said generally only good things, but there is one major issue with the design: Its gravity.  Everything points down, his tattoos, the diamonds, even his wings.  The center of gravity in the image is his shoes.  Bitch loved his shoes so much he made his whole outfit point to them.

Either way this was universally considered the best and I mourn Justin who doesn’t know how far Mammon’s standards are gonna fall from here.

Leviathan:

Diagonal zipper

“Levi what the fuck.” —Megan

He looks like an e-boy.

Honestly it looks like he borrowed something from Justin’s wardrobe for Pride but he didn’t know how to put it on.

APPARENTLY the biggest hoe.  Abs that he shouldn’t have coming through a mesh t-shirt.  I thought Mammon’s pants were low, but Levi’s whole-ass ass is out.  Ok Levi, I see you.

The shirt pattern is good but he probably leaves it partially unzipped because it’d look really dumb fully closed.

Justin loves the funky pants pattern and Jo likes the pants but not with the outfit.  It’s because the devs were too coward to give him a thick tail base so his pants had to fill that role by sharing the pattern.

The shoes are good, and not just because they incited Justin’s deep-set hatred for Christian Louboutin and his uncomfortable red-bottom shoes.

Justin is offended that he’s hiding his suspenders; either show them completely or not at all, no in between.  Jo’s not fully convinced it isn’t just one suspender.  What are his suspenders doing?  What are they attached to?  Are they holding anything up?  Apparently not.

Jo pointed out that if you squint the belt on his waist looks like fangs and the orange dots on his sleeves looks like eyes so it’s like theres a snake head on his outfit.  Cute!

The gloves are throwing us off though.  Why is Levi of all other brothers need gloves?  I bet he has sweaty hands.

Ok really, does his sweater unzip all the way into two pieces?  Or does it hang by that tiny thread underneath the tail hole?  There’s even a button, just in case.

Can’t believe this antler-sporting, suspender-wasting nerd went diagonal zipper on us because we beat him at a trivia game.  Should have just zipped his hood.

Satan:

HONEY.

“I hate everything about this.” —Megan

First of all, he’s straight up wearing Lucifer’s casual shirt.  Does it only button down the back?  Can he take it off?

Then he spilled bleach on his pants.  Like I get what they were going for but with the white on black that is literally just bleach stains.

Incredibly differing opinions on the belt.  He got it in the cowboy department.  Justin adores it.  Jo despises it.

And are those… athletic slip ons?

And now the elephant in the room.  The ribcage made of ribbons.  The ribboncage.  The idea is great!  I love that they gave him a skeletal theme without throwing him into a Hot Topic.

But if you take the ribboncage and feather boa off he’s literally just wearing a dress shirt and some nice jeans.  And that’s the problem with Satan’s demon form.  Not that it looks goofy.  It’s that they took risks but then hid all the risks behind business casual.

Also Megan said that the back of the ribbons look like a rock climbing harness.  Someone (probably Justin) said the front reminds them of the underbelly of a green cockroach.  Ew.

The feather boa would look better if it was over something you wouldn’t literally wear at the office.  (And also didn’t look so much like worm on a string.)

“He is going to Dragcon 2020 and is definitely going to take a picture and ask to lip sync, but accidentally start beef with Acid Betty.” —Justin

On a good note, loving how the tail fades to highly radioactive green.  Feels dangerous.  Megan pointed out that it’s a pretty wimpy tail, though.  Jo enjoys the self-conscious posture it expresses.

That’s basically the only good thing we have to say, though.

I just????

Merry Christmas.

Asmodeus:

The kanji on the picture is just saying that the coattail is the same on both sides.

Ok now with that out of the way, HONEY.

I’m sure he says that to others but I hope he says it to himself too when he looks in the mirror.

Starting with the good.  The wings?  Adorable.  The heart-shaped hole to accommodate them?  Adorable.  One of the only good adjustments.

And I love that the tips of his horns look venomous, like a scorpion tail!

We love a good floral design and a good twin tailcoat.

But once again, the shirt just has too much going on.  The flowers.  The buttons.  The brick-pattern stitching.  The brooch.  The long collar.  The fact that if he closed the last button it’d end in a diamond covering his crotch.  Sometimes less is more, Asmo.

That scorpion brooch is the best thing to ever grace my computer screen and it shouldn’t have to share the spotlight with the rest of his shirt.  It should have wrapped around his arm and been paired with some more jewelry.  Then he could have ditched those giant cuffs.

The bleeding heart tattoos are a really good idea!  But they should have been angled better and not like someone else put them on at the roller rink.  And maybe they shouldn’t have been outlined in pink.  Those aren’t tattoos, those are gaping holes in his arm.  Is he ok.

I’ve been avoiding the pants, but.  The pants.

“Oh dear god. Oh no that’s… I thought you were a designer…” —Jo

One side is buckled the ENTIRE way down, and then the other side is COMPLETELY plain.  It’s too extreme on both ends.  It should have been only half a leg of buckles.  Not whatever this is.  I still don’t think he can bend that leg.

The shoes are ok but they COULD have been a stiletto so.

Jo is DONE with these demons’ inability to wear socks.

We expected better from you, Asmo.  I hope you have to fasten all those buckles every morning as retribution.

Beelzebub:

He said “how many belts can I wear on one outfit.”

Justin said it’s like Barry B. Benson and Post Malone had a beautiful baby boy, and Obey Me! is cancelled for creating a sequence of events that could lead to me hearing that with my own two ears.

The jacket?  Stunning.  “It’s steampunk mixed with Jack Sparrow, mixed with Billie Joe Armstrong,” says Justin.  It’s got puffy sleeves!  And there’s objectively too much going on with the jacket, but since it’s a leather jacket I can forgive it.  Justin and Jo can’t.

I’m not sure why they keep giving him weird jacket collars but I prefer belt number 9 to fur.

“Why is it bucked in the back?  Couldn’t it have just been a jacket?” —Megan

Good that the black tank isn’t only black, but he has so little color on his outfit that it would have been nice for it and the matching pattern on his boots to have been a color besides gray.

I don’t mind the belts down the leg because they’re not too in your face.  Jo wants the white belt to be thinner.  Justin wants him to just pick one and go with it.

Poor Beel, he can’t do his lil thigh pat pose without his right hand being assaulted by studs and that bear trap-shaped buckle.

Justin feels like the cowboy boots are too wide up top and it’s probably because they’re FAKE cowboy boots.  I don’t know why he didn’t just get cowboy boots instead of putting fake coverings over his dress shoes.

Can’t fault the twin belt, though.  And the wing hole isn’t terrible.

Idk I guess.  They knew what they wanted to do at least.  

That seems to be the pattern with Beel: they know what they want to do, but something weird happens in the middle of it.

Belphegor:

“I don’t know which Teletubby let their son go through the it’s just a phase mom phase, but they should be ashamed.” —Justin

A toddler who just learned how to cut holes in paper got a hold of his hoodie.

Is it a hoodie?  A jacket?  A poncho?  The cow print actually isn’t terrible.  At least it had the decency to be unique in its spotting.  And the actual presence of blue is very appreciated.

On the topic of colors, Jo is calling the devs out on their apparent fear of color.  “Put the pink elsewhere, cowards,” they say.

We actually don’t hate the horseshoe, and using it for the belt buckles is actually really clever.  Even if 75% of them are doing literally nothing.  Feel like he didn’t need that many.  Could do without the bottom one, maybe even bottom two.

There’s a teeeeny tiny cowbell on the back?  Megan apparently finds that VERY important.  Why do they go to such great lengths to remind us that Belphie’s a cow?  Beel doesn’t rub his hands together 24/7.  Mammon doesn’t even get bird wings.

Just like Satan spilled bleach, Belphie has tar pants.

It’s nice to see a change in pant style, but.  Am I biased because I hate harem pants?  Maybe.  Are these harem pants too short on him?  Yes.  Maybe they were supposed to be parachute capris?  But it just looks he outgrew them too fast and Lucifer won’t buy him new pants yet.  At least they look comfy.

If he puts his keys in those pockets will his pants fall down?  Probably.  That’s a problem considering his are the only pants that look like they could hold any keys.

The shoes are fine.  I can enjoy a high topped sneaker.  …Is that a security tag?  Did he steal his shoes.  Belphie stole his shoes.

On the tiny tail hole, I appreciate that Belphie went for modesty.  But I hope it’s impossible to wear these outfits outside of demon form because I don’t want him walking around with a tiny hole right above his ass.

Honestly he doesn’t even look like a demon?  He just looks like… a cow.

There’s one more aspect of their demon forms that I didn’t feel comfortable forcing into a smaller space than it deserved: Silhouettes.  Jo puts a lot of weight on silhouettes and their role in character design.  Is it dynamic?  Is it recognizable?  Jo ranked them as such:

1. Lucifer: 9/10.  Care and effort were put into this design and it shows. 2. Mammon: 7/10.  Points deducted for most of it being form fitting but otherwise still manages to get a passing grade. 3 (tied). Beelzebub: 5/10.  His wings have actual mass but his horns being mostly hidden by his head reduce his score. 3 (tied). Belphegor: 5/10.  Evens out since his clothes aren’t as form fitting as the others but they also kind of turn him into a blob. 5. Asmodeus: 4/10, and only because he’s got multiple wings and that his tailcoat breaks up the bottom half. 6. Satan: 3/10, for the fact HIS BOA carries most of the work in altering his silhouette. 7. Leviathan: 2/10.  The tail and horns prevent this from being a total flop.

Our (surprisingly unanimous!) ranking of their outfits (not counting Megan her opinions deviated) were:

Mammon

Lucifer

Leviathan

Belphegor

Beelzebub

Asmodeus

Satan

In conclusion, any M-rated fic that doesn’t have it take demon Satan 20 minutes to take off his shirt is too unrealistic.

[mus-musa]

[id: The first image is a card layed out like the luminaries of the card game Illimat. It is a long rectangular card with an illustration at the top and at the bottom the name of the card ”The Forest Queen’’. The second image is the illustration on its own, without the card layout surrounding it. In the bottom right of the illustration is a round mark, used in illimat to identify if luminaries are base game or from the expansion. This image has a simplified black lily with red stamen as its mark.

The illustration is of the forest queen holding Travis in his rabbit form. The forest queen is a bored looking grey-green humanoid with white hair and antlers. She is wearing a green dress with red decoration and a vine as a necklace. She has an inhuman face with exaggerated cheek bones and wideset eyes that are completely black with a white peanut shaped sheep's pupils. She is holding rabbit travis in one arm and petting him mindlessly with the other. Travis is a white rabbit with pure black eyes. He is clearly scared, with his head as low as possible in her arms and his ears flat back. He is wearing a harness made from red string that is tied to the pointer finger of the hand that is petting him. The background has tall plants with bell shaped dark brown flowers. /end id]

Today is the fourth day of @margaretweek ! Which is a fan event to celebrate the @campaignskyjacks NPC Margaret. My fanart is based on the wonderfull card faces drawn by Carson Ellis for the card game Illimat. It really inspired me to experiment with a style I’m not used to and a limited colour palette to tie all cards together and I had a lot of fun with it. Some of the ideas behind the design are below the cut.

I really enjoyed the episode “Behind the Sails: luminaries and starwatching”, where it’s established that all Luminaries are drawn uniquely based on the relation the artist has with it. So when I saw the  prompts with luminary cards I was immediatly inspired to draw Luminaries based on Margaret’s story.

Like the Rusalka I wanted to make the Forest Queen inhuman too. So she has some exaggerated traits, like the wide eyes and pointy ears and odd cheekbones. I took most queues from deer faces, but I could not pass up on a sheep pupil because I love how odd they are.

This is TFQ from the perspective of Margaret. Unlike the Rusalka, who revived her, TFQ has the role of holding Travis' captive. So that is what she is doing in this illustration. Bunny Trav is not only held, but he is on a lead made from the red string that binds them together. He is wearing a harness, as that is the safe way to put a lead on a bunny. A dog-style collar can hurt their neck badly, especially if they're spooked.

I had a lot of fun finding a suitable flower called ‘lily’ for every card. For day 3 we have another actual member of the lily family: the Kamchatka lily (Fritillaria camschatcensis). It is native in northeastern Asia and northwestern North America, including the Kamchatka region in east Russia. It has quite a few common names, amongst which are chocolate lily (for the colour), rice lily (because of its bulbs) and with it's smell it gained the names skunk lily, dirty diaper lily and outhouse lily. Perfect for the forest queen >:)

[meetthetank]

Beast Code Chapter 1: The Twilit City

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationship: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), Original YoRHa Characters (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Transformation, gothic horror, Android Lycanthropy...sort of, Inspired by Bloodborne (Video Game), Everyday i get closer to just writing a Bloodborne AU

Summary:  Break the vicious cycle with tooth and claw. Unleash the beast within and destroy your chains. But the strength to defy fate comes at a grave cost. Will it be enough, little doll? Or will you succumb to despair once more?

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31546982

The assignment to the Twilight Belt comes as a shock to 2B and 9S. Rarely, if ever, are YorHa units sent to this border of perpetual daylight and eternal night. Conditions are always reported as unstable by the infrequent scans by one of the other satellite bases that orbit earth, too dangerous to deploy scanners by themselves, and too depleted of resources for the Council to care about. The mystery surrounding the strip of permanent twilight goads curious operators and scanners alike to comb through files searching for nuggets of data, image or video files, anything they can get their hands on. All but a few pieces of data reveal tantalizing scraps and clues to the puzzle of the Sunset Belt. Photographs of dead machines with toothy, gaping maws that split their spherical heads in two and minerals warped in peculiar shapes. According to one of the situation reports from a scanner that had been sent there, there was an eerie, foreboding feeling about the place; that strange and frightening sounds would echo across the landscape and that he felt close to a forbidden barrier that separated this world from another. Though the file and its contents are now treated as a human “ghost story”, many androids, including 2B and 9S, believe at least some portion of the tale.

9S relays this story to 2B as they descend to Earth’s surface, his chattering easing some of 2B’s trepidation. The pair had fallen into an easy rhythm over the course of several assignments to Earth, most of which involved retrieving data from lost servers buried in rubble or clearing out an area of machine lifeforms. Despite her outwardly cold demeanor, 9S wormed his way past all of her defenses, forming a strong, solid relationship with the battler android. His voice is a centering point for her and assists in ignoring the gut churning possibilities of what could be waiting for them below.

“...What do you think, 2B?” his voice crackles from the comms system inside her flight unit.

“Hm?” she shifts her head to the side, glancing at his jet black flight unit cruising beside hers.

“What do you think made the target go rogue?”

She bites her lower lip. There are a thousand possible answers as to why a normally punctual, efficient YorHa Battle unit would suddenly stop responding to command and not checking in at required times. Only a few of those options were machine lifeform related complications.

“We’ll find out when we arrive, 9S.” she says curtly, eager to shut down the conversation, “Focus on landing protocol.”

He sighs, a sound of annoyance and frustration, “Yeah, yeah.”

“One affirmation will-”

“Fiiiiiiiine.”

The final phase of their descent is spent in silence. They pass through the Earth’s atmosphere in streaks of fire and light towards the border of day and night, and a continent that humans called Europe. Even as they descend, the outlines of ancient, massive structures come into view. Both androids are used to the thick vegetation eating away at the remains of human structures, but here the trees are gnarled, twisted, and void of leaves or blossoms. Their branches reach to the crimson sky and permanently setting sun like bony hands in prayer or a stag’s antlers. As 2B and 9S set their flight units down a few miles away from the outskirts of a sprawling, ancient city. It amazes 9S, as he exits his own unit, that the buildings are in such good condition considering the millenia that have passed it by. Great spires of countless cathedrals pierce the heavens, casting an ominous, looming shadow over the otherwise barren landscape. A well worn cobblestone road, lined with rusted iron lighting fixtures long since burnt out, leads into the city proper. 

2B and 9S stand at the precipice of this ancient beast of stone and metal in awe of its size, and terrified of what might lurk within. A hoarse bird’s caw, jolts the androids back into awareness, 2B drawing her katana and prepares for battle.

“Heh,” 9S laughs, trying to calm them both down, “Just a raven, 2B.”

“What?”

“A large black bird. Harmless to us.” He doesn’t tell her about the chill he gets down his spine as he watches the corvid gaze down at them with beady black eyes, or how humans saw these birds as ill omens or prophets of death.

They begin the trek into the forgotten city. 2B doesn’t put Virtuous Contract away.

Pod 042 alerts 2B to the presence of an unidentifiable android signal, marking the location on both hers and 9S’ map. Since the area has yet to be properly mapped out by satellite imagery (as inaccurate as that process is) only a vague street layout is available through a very low power scan. They have no way of judging what might block their path to the target beyond featureless grey masses depicting buildings, rubble, large trees, or whatever else may lie in wait. Their target, represented by a small orange dot on the map, appears to be near the city’s main gate and inside one of the larger buildings. 2B refuses to admit it to herself, but she’s relieved to not have to delve too far into this labyrinthine city.

“I’ve never seen the sky this color…” 9S muses as he stares up, transfixed by the blood red sky and orange sun hanging low.

Though hauntingly beautiful, she won’t deny, 2B keeps her gaze fixed on the wrought iron gate ahead of them. The heavens disturb her; they are the color of death. Of war. And the sun is… wrong. 

She snaps at 9S to keep focused as they approach the gate to the city. Though scans indicate there are no machine lifeforms, or any lifeforms beyond their target, she’s learned from countless combat assignments to not rely totally on what the support unit reports. She’s encountered and seen machines that mask themselves from scans or camouflage themselves in the environment, and in a place like this anything could be hiding in the shadows just outside of view. 

The iron gate lies ajar, worn from millennia of neglect. Clouds of rust particles burst from the hinges as 2B shoves it open further, the metal grinding against itself with a horrible grating shriek. The sound makes them both wince, and they slip through the partially opened gate as soon as they can.

Standing inside the city gates, 9S can’t shake the uneasy feeling that claws at the back of his mind. The great ancient human structures loom above them, and though he knows that the buildings themselves aren’t alive, he can’t shake the notion that he’s being watched by them. The windows are dark, but when he passes by the light of the setting sun reflects off of them, giving them the illusion of intelligence. Suddenly, 9S feels as if he’s inside a cave, or locked in a room with no exit. Suddenly… He finds it hard to breathe. 9S tugs at the collar of his jacket as if it's tightening around his throat. His synthetic lungs fill with air as much as he can take, then he releases it moments later. It calms him, if only a little.

2B’s gaze is fixed ahead on the building Pod 042 marked as the rogue android’s hiding place. It’s a much smaller structure than the others that choke the sky, but its reach stretches across the streets like a tree’s roots. Judging by the well preserved signs that hang from crumbled doors it looked to have multiple uses. 9S commands his own Pod to run scans on the words and symbols for later analysis. 

“The target’s in here…” 2B murmurs, holding her free hand up in a tight fist, signaling 9S to stop behind her.

This portion of the sprawling building is similar in structure to the massive spires above. It has the same pointed section on the roof, but much smaller in scale, and similar symbols decorate the exterior. A cross, winged humans, various flowering plants, and a number of human figures bowing their heads or supplicating themselves to the winged humans.

“This must have been a place of worship,” 9S muses aloud.

“Focus.”

He nods. Typically 9S argues with his partner about the necessity for recording data like this, or excuse his wandering attention to his designation as a scanner, but he knows the danger within the house of worship, or rather, he doesn’t know. Neither one of them knows what this rouge android is capable of. 

2B presses her hand against the wooden doors to the chapel and pushes it open as slowly as possible. It groans in protest, dust falls from its hinges and frame, but it swings inward. A rush of warm air washes over them carrying the scent of stale incense and dead machines. Clouds of smoke billow out of the doorway, rising into the red sky like twisted fingers. 2B enters first, sliding in sword arm first. She motions for 9S to wait for a moment, then commands Pod 042 to switch on its flashlight. 

9S peeks his head around the door, keeping a few paces behind his partner. He switches on his own Pod’s flashlight to illuminate more of the pitch black interior. Long wooden benches are pushed up against the walls, opening up the center space. Ornate candle holders, rotting books, charred incense burners, and pieces of artwork among other things 9S has no name for are scattered across the ground, each one a priceless human artifact that could fuel hours of study. Yet it’s not these that hold 9S’ attention, but the statue at the far back of the chapel, and the figure kneeling in front of it.

It looks to be made of some kind of marble, a pristine white stone that has been sheltered from time and the elements. The subject is another winged human, this one wearing splendid armor and wielding a great spear. Beneath them, a grotesque, writhing beast bares its teeth and claws at the warrior as the blade pierces its throat. 9S has never seen anything like it in person, and very few records of these kinds of sculptures remain at all. It’s both horrific and beautiful at once. He wonders what the human who made this saw that inspired it. Did creatures like these roam the world during their time?

2B steps in front of him, Virtuous Contract at the ready. The figure in front of the statue rises to their feet as the Pod’s flashlights center on them. A cloak made of feathers conceals most of their form but they appear to be a female android, perhaps a YorHa model. Though, if that were the case it would have been in the mission briefing. That is, unless... 

The android turns her head to the side, glaring at the pair over her shoulder.

“So, Command sent the wolves, did they?” She asks, a distinct rumble in her voice.

2B raises her blade and keeps her gaze steady. She hears 9S also ready his weapon, the golden katana Cruel Oath. 

Lazily, the android turns her body to face them. Her clothes confirm her origins; there’s no mistaking the sharp white embellishments and black velvet of a YorHa uniform; however each piece is ripped, tattered, and stitched together with other scraps of clothing or… animal hide. 

The rouge android drags the blade of a bloodied top heavy sword between her fingers, cleaning the gore from it. “It doesn’t matter, dog.” Her eyes shine with a strange, purplish light that refracts around her collapsed, twisted pupils. “You will fall like the rest.”

It isn’t until the rogue android rushes forward, sword raised, that 2B sees the corpses of YorHa units piled in front of the statue, and the blood that soaks it.

She dashes backward and shoves the bewildered 9S out of harm's way. The android’s bloodied sword crashes into the stonework floor, sending thousands of years of dust into the air. 2B lunges, her katana poised to take advantage of the enemy’s opening, but she sidesteps much quicker than anticipated. The rogue’s fist slams into 2B’s chest, distorting her internal sensors and throwing her off balance. 2B watches in horror as the rogue drives her sword towards her, but a golden flash knocks the blade away. 

“2B!” 9S shouts, brandishing Cruel Oath. “Are you okay?!”

She shakes her head as if it would clear the internal errors from her vision, but she assumes her battle stance next to her partner. “Fine.”

Both androids launch into an assault on the rogue, attacking in tandem. Despite 2B’s scrambled sensors, she and 9S have an undeniable synergy that comes with countless missions. 2B forces the rogue back with singular, powerful blows, while 9S jabs at any opening he can reach from the sides. However, even with their combined might the rogue deflects and maneuvers out of the way of each attack as casually as one would flick away an insect or step around a puddle. She looks to be expending no effort at all as she dances around the two YorHa. Anger and frustration rises in 2B, culminating in a harsh growl. She mimics the rogue’s tactic from earlier, rushing forward and feinting with a crushing overhead strike that is easily dodged but allows no time for recovery. She slams her fist into the rogue android’s face, sending her stumbling backwards. Before 9S can dive in with a horizontal slash the rogue dashes backward, putting crucial distance between her and her hunters.

The rogue android lowers her gaze at the pair, sizing them up, taking stock of their abilities and assessing their weaknesses. 2B watches her eyes dart back and forth between her and 9S, then linger on 9S. Sensing the rogue’s motive and deciding at that moment that the outcome is unacceptable, 2B dives in front of the strike meant for 9S. The rogue’s sword slices cleanly through her chest, coating the rogue’s clothes in splatters of fresh blood. The battler falls to her knees, clutching the wound with one hand while supporting herself on her sword. 

“No!!” 9S screams and lunges at their target. “2B!!”

“Hm. Interesting.” The rogue murmurs, easily deflecting the scanner’s wild strikes.

2B watches through blurred, error obscured vision as 9S drives the rogue back. If she didn’t know any better it’d seem that he has the upper hand, but the rogue’s eyes glint in a way 2B recognizes all too well. She’s baiting him. 

9S slams his blade against the rogue’s, pressing all of his power and weight into the strike. It’s the moment she had been waiting for. Suddenly she pulls back, letting 9S’ weight fall forward and forcing him off balance. She kicks his legs out from under him then shoves him into the floor. 9S lets out a startled, choked gasp as his weight and the force of the rogue’s attack cracks the stone floor, sending up more clouds of dust into the air. 

Clutching her chest, 2B roars and charges at the target with blinding speed. When she sees the smirk twisting the rogue’s lips and the pointed iron rod in her grip, it’s too late. With a flash of her crowfeather cape, the android meets 2B’s charge with her own, the skewer aimed at her wounded chest. 2B tries to divert her body away, but the momentum is too strong. It’s just enough to roll her body to the side so that the spike pierces clean through her shoulder, clear of critical systems. 

The pain, however, is agonizing. 

It’s different from the injuries 2B has suffered in the past. Countless machine swords, spears, and axes have torn through her body and of course all of those injuries hurt, but they were manageable. When the iron bar rips through layers of cloth, skin, carbon plating and frame, and synthetic muscle fibers it's as if her shoulder has been set on fire. She clenches her teeth, muffling a scream to a low growl. Her hand wraps around the skewer, close to the wound itself. Instinct tells her to tear it out immediately, but she knows that without treatment doing so would only worsen her condition. 2B doesn’t get to make that decision, unfortunately. The rogue grabs hold of the end of the iron rod and twists it side to side, driving it further into 2B’s shoulder. 

2B sinks to her knees and tries to hold back the cries of agony. Her injured arm stops responding to commands and lies limp and useless against her side. She swats at the rogue android with her weakening other arm, desperate to escape from this torment. Her strength fades along with her vision; it becomes impossible to even hold herself upright.

She must not fall, she must not… she must stay strong, she must stay alive.

She will not allow him to die… 

Not for the sake of a monster like her….

9S leaps into the fight as the rogue android prepares a killing blow. A flurry of Pod fire, sword strikes, and furious movement all blur together into a white, gold, and black haze. She fights to stay awake, she fights to stand, but her body begins to shut down non-vital systems and conserve as much energy as she can. First her tactile sensors switch off, leaving her in a numbing cold. Then her hearing, quickly followed by sight. A warning flashes across the last vestiges of her vision that she is entering a forced shutdown state, and despite her audio sensors being deactivated, she swears she hears 9S cry out for her.

….

….

…….

………

……….

……..

….

2B opens her eyes to the blinding, sterile white of hacking space. This itself is not shocking. Oftentimes she would run diagnostics on her critical systems when in a forced shutdown, both to manage critical systems and to keep herself busy. 

But now, in the distance, there is an anomaly.

A single figure, black as night, approaches her. It’s shape is human up till its head, which sports pointed ears and a long snout like that of a dog or wolf. It looms over her and leaves a black, fragmented mist in its wake. But most troubling of all in this world of stark monochrome is its eye…. or what 2B believes is an eye. In the center of its lupine face is a strange geometric sigil that emits a highly saturated purple light. It feels… malicious. The thought itself is insane to 2B. Light cannot possess intent or emotions, and yet… 

“This is an unacceptable outcome.” A voice booms in her head. Somehow she knows it is the entity speaking. 

2B opens her mouth to respond, but instead of words, thick crimson fluid leaks from her throat.

“You will die. He will die. You cannot abide by this.”

She shakes her head. Droplets of blood fall to the pristine floor. The entity is right. If she has any strength left, 9S will live.

“Stand, little doll,” the entity commands, “Stand and unleash y-...Be——…..d.”

The entity’s voice becomes warped and distorted with audio glitches, yet 2B understands its words with frightening clarity.

“Take-......l-...s within.” 

It holds a hand out to her, offering her something she can’t quite make out. The shape in its palm is amorphous, colorless, and flickers with lines of jumbled code. Somehow, she knows this piece of herself in intimate detail, yet cannot remember what this does or what its relation to the entity is. 

But it promises strength enough to save 9S.

2B reaches out and takes the code in her hand… 

….

………….

…………………………

………………………………………………………..

Her eyes snap open. A current of raw energy runs through her body, electrifying every nerve and sensor within her. She shakes with each pulse of her circulatory apparatus as a new, terrifying strength takes hold. 2B rises to her feet, flexing her hands, legs, arms. One arm’s movement is restricted by the iron bar still stuck in her shoulder. She tears it out with little effort, casting it to the floor. The rattling, hollow sound echoes against the stone chapel. 

The rogue’s head snaps up from her combat with 9S, who is barely able to hold his sword. Something in her expression changes. She kicks 9S and points her sword at 2B, her arms shaking in a way they had not before. 

2B lunges forward, her sword raised high. The rogue raises her own sword to deflect, but 2B’s newfound strength breaks her guard with one mighty strike. With blinding speed 2B slices through the rogue android’s body. Her crowfeather cape flutters to the floor, soon followed by her arm. The rouge android staggers back, an expression of shock and horror twisting her face. 2B drives her sword through the rogue’s chest, forcing her back further. Instead of drawing her sword back for another strike, a terrifying feeling takes over 2B. She leaves the sword inside the rogue’s chest and tackles her to the ground. With her bare hands and horrible strength, 2B delivers blow after blow to the android’s chest, shoulder, arms, head, and abdomen. Each piece is reduced to a pulp of flesh and metal one after the next until nothing remains but scrap. 

2B throws her head back as she straddles her victim, a horrible, twisted grin plastered across her face and arms outstretched. Her body feels wrong… horribly wrong, yet for the first time since she can remember, her chest is light. She gazes up at the morbid sculpture with an emotion she can’t quite describe. It isn’t the same as a combat high, she is intimately familiar with that heady rush. This is something akin to… euphoria. A laugh begins to bubble up in her throat-

“2B?”

She’s forced back to reality by the 9S’ voice, right beside her ear. Suddenly, the terrible strength from moments before fades from her body. Her arms go limp by her sides, and it becomes hard to sit upright. Even breathing is laborious. 9S wraps his arms around her shoulders and tugs her gently, laying her head and shoulders against his chest.

“I’ve got you. We… I think we’re safe.” His breathing is uneven and ragged, much like 2B’s. He swivels his head back and forth, searching for any lingering threats as quickly as possible. “Pod, run a scan for machine lifeform or android signals in the immediate area,” he commands.

Pod 153 is silent for a moment, then emits a grating, hideous garbled noise. Words try to break through the audio distortions but neither 2B or 9S is confident it isn’t simply what they wish to hear. 

“Alert:” Pod 042 begins, “Interference from unknown source is preventing accurate scans of the surrounding area. Proposal: Relocate to an elevated aaaaaaa…..a-r-....rrr……”

The same audio distortions come from 042, mingling with 153’s until they both cut off, leaving the androids in silence. “Pod?” 9S calls to the floating support unit. “Pod, respond. ... Pod?”

2B mutters weakly to her own Pod, but it's the same as 9S’. No response at all.

9S pulls up a small data screen, map data, from what 2B can tell. Or… where map data would be. Instead, there’s a blank, grey screen and a little message box that reads No Data. 

“What the-...” 9S whispers, flipping through different screens at a frantic pace. “Where-... There’s… all the data is gone!” he shouts, “No map, no signal scans… I can’t even connect to the Bunker…”

“We’re stranded…” 2B muses aloud.

Silence passes between them. Only the ominous wind passing through ancient wood and stone reminds them that the world hasn’t stopped moving around them. 

“We should move to a higher area, like your Pod said.” 9S suggests, rising to his feet. “Can you stand?”

When 9S offers a hand out to her, 2B takes it without thinking. His touch, even through his thick gloves, calms the beast pacing inside her. 

Beast? 

…..What does that mean?

2B rises to her feet, her hands lingering in 9S’ for a moment longer than she normally would. There’s a fog in her head that distorts her equilibrium. She leans on 9S for support, to which he wraps his arm around her waist and positions himself under her shoulder.

“I got you.” He says with a small smile.

2B feels just a bit lighter.

They exit the chapel and make for higher ground. 9S rationalizes that if they simply continue up stairs or inclines they would find a space clear of whatever is interfering with the Pod’s satellite connections. Perhaps it’s the fog that creeps across the cobblestone streets or the odd angle of the sun (not that it makes sense to 9S or 2B but they have to consider all possibilities), or perhaps it’s something beyond that. There’s a strange, eerie feeling about this city that neither can explain, and neither want to talk about. As if there’s a presence constantly watching over them.

They climb the stairs of one of the massive sprawling religious buildings. From what 9S assesses, it seems to have one of the tallest spires in the city. Only a larger time-keeping building looming in the distance is larger. If he could reach the top he should be far enough above whatever is interfering with the Pods. When he relays his plan to 2B who only nods, her eyes unfocused and breathing shallow, worry starts to lace its icy fingers through his chest. Something is wrong with her. 

9S’ first instinct is to prepare a data backup with the bunker, but the Pods are both out of commission for the time being. His next is to contact command and ask how they should proceed, to the same conclusion. Climbing the spire is the only course of action he can take, but first, he has to make sure 2B is safe.

He leads her through the castle of worship, now supporting most of her weight. That… frightening show of strength must have exhausted her power supply. There are plenty of well preserved wooden benches that stretch across half of the main worship chambers, at least it would be more comfortable than the stone floors. Under watch by the countless grotesque statues that sit in the rafters, 9S helps 2B onto a long bench, laying her on her back. She hisses and grinds her teeth as she moves. She must have sustained internal damage from that fight… 

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, “I’m going to go to the roof to get a clear signal.”

All 2B gives in response is a slow nod. He lingers by her side before leaving, a moment longer than needed.

Now alone in this spacious, hollow, human structure, 2B takes stock of her condition. There’s pain in her shoulders, particularly her right arm. Her legs are tight, most locking up from the strain of the previous battle and trekking up to her current location. Her back, as well, is tense beyond discomfort. It spasms and jolts if she breathes too hard. At least these are injury related, explainable. The black wolfman with purple eyes lingering in the corners of her vision, is not. 

She sees the entity in the shadows, lurking just out of view. 9S walks right past it, not even sparing a glance at the tall, gangly creature. It doesn’t respond to 9S either, instead focusing on 2B and only 2B. 

The sight of it makes her stomach turn. She tries to close her eyes, but the glowing, purple sigil is burned into her vision. With a groan she digs her knuckles into her eyelids as if she could carve the hallucination out of the air. Defeated, 2B lets her arms down once more. One hand touches the cool stone floor, decorated with elegant mosaics, and she suddenly realizes how warm she is. According to the warning messages displayed in her vision her body temperature is ten degrees above normal levels. 

“Pod,” she groans, forcing herself to sit up, “retrieve water from storage-”

“Report: Mail notification received from Command.”

The monotone voice of her support unit shocks her. Pod 042 had been silent up until now due to whatever interference was in the area, and now it’s getting messages from Command? 9S must have established a connection from the roof.

Her heart sinks. If that’s the case he would contact her. The first thing she’d hear would be his voice.

She opens the message, dreading its contents.

Subject has accessed confidential records. Eliminate the Target.

At the top of the spire 9S takes in the view of the entire city, the wind rushing through his hair. It’s breathtaking. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen. The sky dyes the entire urban sprawl red, as well as the mountains on the horizon. His pulse races as he drinks in the terrifying awe of what the ancient humans were capable of, hoping to remember every last detail of the buildings, the streets, and the magnificent sculptures that litter the city. It’s all so well preserved that he feels as though a human might appear, walking down the cobblestone streets as if nothing were wrong. As if they didn’t go extinct. 

Reluctantly he draws his attention away from the splendor of humanity’s ruins, and shakes away the creeping emptiness that comes with that line of thought. He can’t think about that now. He and 2B are stranded. 9S produces a holographic terminal that mirrors Pod 153’s settings menu. Pod’s diagnostics on his end show buildup of foreign material in and around certain receivers, something that 9S expects, but that is only part of the problem. It seems that the atmosphere in this place is clogged with various chemicals and particles that make satellite transmissions more difficult. Considering all of the decaying metal and stone it’s no wonder that there’s so much particulate in the air. Once Pod’s receivers are clear 9S has Pod 153 hover just above the spire’s tip. It stays suspended in the air, the small light on the top of its body turning on and off at regular intervals.

“Connection established.” Pod 153 announces moments later. “Proposal: Contact the Bunker for support.”

“Great! Set up a relay connection for Pod 042 as well.”

“Affirmative.”

9S opens a data screen laden with information and begins composing his message to Operator 21O. With an unreliable connection a live call would be too risky, a simple text based message won’t be distorted or cut out. He records a brief message, attaches a transcription of his words, and sends it to the Bunker. Hopefully 21O would send something quickly-

A flash of movement in the streets below catches his eye. Something running on all fours... “Pod… run a scan for machine lifeforms…” He says, a chill creeping up his spine.

Pod 153 floats down to his side. “Alert: Multiple machine lifeforms detected. Proposal: Regroup with Unit 2B.”

“But-” 

That thing didn’t look like a machine…

“Alert: Anomalous signal detect-”

Pod 153’s words are drowned by a horrific, mournful howl that reverberates through the entire building. 9S clings to the ornate decorations on the spire and covers his ears with his free hand. His body runs cold. He’s never heard a sound like that before. Nothing the machines make comes close to that. The pain and sorrow in that noise is something that no animal could produce either. That left only one possibility…

Another roar wracks the building from within… 

2B clutches the sides of her head, the data screen long dismissed.

No…

Her chest strains under her panicked breaths. 

No.

She hadn’t been watching him. She hadn’t been keeping track of his questions and behavior…

No… No.

And now she…

No no no no no .

She has to…

no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.

NO.

She will not do this. Not again. 

Her skin feels… tight. 

She will fight off every single goddamn android Command sends until there are none left but her and him. She will not be a part of this cycle again. Her hands curl into fists as a surge rushes through her body, alighting her nerves with energy. With power.

A shadow moves across the stone floor of the castle of worship. The entity, its form inky black, its sigil emitting a baleful purple light, glides towards her. It bathes her in the highly saturated light, a light not even shielding her eyes can diffuse. It bores into her core, it peers into her mind. It speaks into her mind.

“You will not allow this to happen.” Its voice echoes off the hollow shell of where humans once sought God. “But strength comes at a price, little doll.”

The entity plunges its claws into her chest. Heat explodes throughout her body to the point where she fears she might self-destruct. The boiling tendrils of this ethereal monster sink into her artificial heart and her Black Box. Something activates, or… unlocks, and suddenly she feels… confined. Her body… it’s too small….

“Time to pay the toll…”

It rips its claws, now writhing shadow-like whips, out of her chest, then vanishes. 2B’s vision is obscured, but not by warnings and error messages, by blood. Red veins pulse on the edges of her sight in time with her heart. Each beat sends waves of heat, electricity, and agony through her body.

“Stand, little doll. Stand, and unleash your beasthood.”

A scream forms in 2B’s throat, but it cannot break through her swelling throat and gritted teeth. She takes frantic, shallow breaths. Her limbs shake, her fingernails dig into the stonework floor. It’s so hot… 

2B rolls onto the floor and rips away her tight uniform. Far too tight. Parts of her dress were already beginning to tear as her muscles swell. Blood trickles from various wounds where her skin has split, revealing the thick, synthetic muscle cords that lie beneath. Her blindfold is next, but removing it does not help her vision. One eye is unfocused, blurring all of her vision.

She drags her fingernails across her body and lets out a deep, animal snarl when she tears into her own flesh. Looking down at her hands, she recoils at the sight of long, black claws that split her fingers down the center. Skin falls from them in long strips to the point where the mechanical joints of her hands are exposed.

Something snaps inside her, somewhere in her upper back. She howls in agony, in sorrow, as her spine lengthens, twists, and grows too fast for her body to maintain. Her insides are compacted and grind against each other, sending sickening vibrations throughout her. Her throat finally opens up, allowing her to breathe. She watches as puffs of steam escape her mouth into the warm twilight air. 

Another crack and something explodes out of her lower back. Her balance is thrown off and she falls forward, smashing her face into stone. Another snarl, this one combined with the gnashing of fangs. Her mouth warps, splitting out of her face into a muzzle. Eyes follow, one swelling to fit its now spacious socket while the other stunts and refuses to change. She claws at the peeling skin of whatever she can reach, spilling more of her blood in the process. Everything hurts, everything itches, but oh god the power feels so good.

A growth springs from above her unchanged eye, weighing her head down and hunching her body over. She supports herself with one enormous hand, the other scooping the wires and tubing that spills out of her torn stomach and forcing them back inside her abdominal cavity. The twisting extension of her spine, a tail, thuds against the floor and counters the weight of her head. 

2B shakes the mane of bloodied, white hair from her functioning eye, turns her head to the sky, and roars.

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part XXI

A/N at the End:

Parts I-XIX:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Part XVI

Part XVII

Part XVIII

Part XIX

Part XX

.XXI.

The cluster of ewes kept a respectful distance on their side of the fence, heads lifted now and then to watch the pair walking along the empty country road. Cordelia avoided a rather large puddle, filled over with dark murky water, and resumed her step with James on the other side. They were losing the light, and the setting sun had tinged the clouds a golden rose that glowed against the cold flat blue of the dusk.

James, tucked his hands into his pockets and resumed his guided tour. “I’m terribly sorry about having to abandon the carriage. It’s never clear how the wheels are going to weather the roads after a storm.”

“Another added to perk to Algernon,” said Cordelia.

“I’ll pretend you never said that and that you didn’t just use its given name. Matthew needs no further encouragement” said James and nudged her with his shoulder. “You know, Magnus owns this whole estate?”

“Really?” Cordelia looked across the narrow, feudal fields of rich red earth and verdant pasture sloping gently down from either side to form the shallow valley of the village, thinking how furious her father would have been to know that a Downworlder owned all of this. He hated the concept of massive estates. “That’s quite impressive.”

“He inherited it apparently. He owns everything— the pastures, the village, everything. Has done for nearly two centuries. Although he’s sold a lot of it in the past century or given it away, but he insists that the architecture be kept the same. That’s why some of the houses look sprung up from the colonies. Neo-Natalian, they call it, that flat-topped design. And that small cottage with the blue smoke coming out of the shoot”— he pointed down into the valley— “that’s his. Not too far to go. Are you alright?”

Cordelia tucked her hands into her coat pockets. “A little walking never bothered me. I would wonder around all over Tehran when I was a child. Alastair would grovel while I dragged him through the streets from one street merchant to the next.”

Squinting a little, Cordelia studied the westernmost end of the road, mentally comparing the earthy tones of England to the desert warmth of her homeland.

“I imagine it was beautiful,” said James.

“It was,” she said with a nod. “Though a different kind of beautiful than I imagine you’re accustomed to. The beauty lies inside of the city, with the people, the culture. It’s like every sense you have comes to life and you come to life. The air is so filled with spices and burning incense that you can taste it in your mouth. The language being spoken by neighbors sounded more like water trickling in a brook then the clumsy verbiage of English. Some streets were covered in rugs being woven and silks being beaded. It is its own piece of the world and could never be replicated.”

“You miss it.”

It wasn’t a question, but she answered as if it were. “Almost everyday.”

“Almost?”

Cordelia carefully avoided another puddle. “As I’ve told you before,” she started as they merged back together. “I grew up very much alone. I didn’t speak the language well— English being my first language, and the children often poked fun at my clothes or the way that I spoke. I had Alastair, but well, we both know how he can be.”

They began the slow descent now into the valley, not more than ten yards distant from the small cottage with the blue smoke chimney. If she was going to have this conversation with James, then she needed to start it now. She cleared her throat. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about what happened the other night. You have to understand that, there was once a time when Alastair and I— we were all each had in the world. And in that time, he protected me from a lot more than I realized and I don’t think he ever learned how to stop.”

“You don’t need to apologize for him, Cordelia,” said James. “As a brother myself, I understand perfectly well what he was doing and if a man had treated my sister the way that I treated you—even unknowingly— I would have flattened him to the gravel before he had a chance to speak. At least Alastair gave me a chance to explain myself before threatening to brazen me.”

Cordelia smiled. “He’ll probably never like you.”

James laughed and Cordelia’s heart responded to the sound. They’d come to the edge of the cottage’s property now, and the cottage seemed to be waiting for them.

“Then it’s a fine thing that it’s not his approval I seek,” said James, an eyebrow arched. “But I know he means a great deal to you.”

“He does,” she answered quietly.

She felt small in the shadow of the old cottage. The stone walls rose covered in a thin veil of moss and bright colored mushrooms. It was a narrow structure, hard and angular, save for the turret-like structure at one corner that probably sheltered a stairwell inside.

Reaching out, Cordelia ran her hand caressingly over the cold stones as they walked past. “Should we knock?” She asked, unsure how to approach the home of a high warlock— much less one with Magnus Bane’s social standing in the Shadowhunter community.

“Yes, I think so. He left specific instructions not to step on his azaleas,” said James, giving a flower bed full of the illusive purple flowers a wide berth.

He walked ahead of her towards the door tucked into the shadows of the wide porch. Cordelia’s trailing fingers snagged on something sharp, and she pulled her hand back, breaking contact with the stone wall.

“Curious,” said Cordelia, examining her finger tip where a small bead of blood now bloomed. “How does he get azaleas to grow this time of year.”

“I plant the bulbs in early winter,” said a voice from the porch, followed by a curl of smoke that drifted away into the air in the shape of a small white rabbit. “They freeze in the earth, then thaw in the summer, just in time for the rains to make everything moist. They’ll bloom until January.”

Magnus Bane emerged, resting his patched elbows on the porch banister. His eyes flickered, cat-like between the two shadow hunters on his lawn, and as a feline grin changed his face. “Come in,” he said, “it’s getting cold. And these hills are notorious gossips.”

Cordelia stepped through the front door, through the white-painted foray with the checkerboard floor. It smelled sharply of cut wood and coal dust and damp quarry tile.

“When I sent the letter, I expected to be invited back to your flat in London,” said James as he started unbuttoning his coat. “I hadn’t expected to be invited to the cottage. I haven’t been here since New Years of 99’ when you hosted that party.”

Magnus chuckled. “Yes, I faintly remember you and Matthew getting merry on spiced rum. One of you fell asleep in the antlers of my stag wall ornament.”

James blushed. “I have no recollection of that.”

“You wouldn’t, would you?” said Magnus. “It was very good spiced rum.”

James cleared his throat and quickly went to help Cordelia with her coat.

“Speaking of drinks, can I offer either of you something?” asked Magnus, lifting his hands towards the arched passageway into the kitchen. “I have fresh coffee, tea, biscuits, or a plate of chutney if you’re feeling peckish.”

Cordelia shrugged off her coat, and handed it off to James to hang beside his own. “I’ll take tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Magnus’s eyes flickered. “It’s not too much trouble at all.” Faint blue smoke curled from his fingertips as he snapped them. Cordelia heard the shuffling of glassware in the kitchen, but could not see who might be inside. “Follow me, we can sit in the front room with the fire so you can warm yourself.”

They followed the warlock through the arched walkway into the adjacent room. The large fireplace stacked with a glowing wood pile that crackled but didn’t seem to burn stood center against the forest green papered wall. A mural of Magnus sitting on a sofa with his ankles crossed and a gray cat in his lap hung over the gold painted mantle lined with fresh garland. Cordelia felt the texture of the floor change under her boots and looked down to notice the grand Persian rug underneath her feet. The style and design must have been over a hundred years old. She wanted to place her hands on it, to smell it, and see if there was anything left of its original home left on it, but resisted the strange urge by taking her seat in one of the wingback chairs that faced the fire.

James took his seat in the couple of her chair.

Magnus chose to stand beside the fireplace. “Your choice in correspondence has left me quite intrigued. It’s not often that one of your kind asks my permission before showing up at my doorstep. You either don’t want anyone to know you’re here or one of you has been raised with manners.”

“When have I ever just shown up at your doorstep?” asked James.

“Who said I was referring to you?” said Magnus, his eyes flickered to James’s wrist. “Aw, broken free from the manacle, I see. How did you manage it? Is that what this is about then?”

James gripped his wrist with his other hand. He glanced to Cordelia, probably weighing her reaction, and then back to Magnus. “We’re not here for me. It’s Cordelia.”

Magnus crossed his arms over his chest. “Aw, the young miss Carstairs. You look much better since I last saw you. You seem to have recovered nicely since your rendezvous with the prince of hell.”

“I wouldn’t call it a rendezvous as much as an unsuccessful kidnapping,” said Cordelia and allowed the comfort of Cortana strapped to her back to fight off the memory of being held against her will. Perhaps it was best that she didn’t remember any of it. What if he’d done something unspeakable to her.

“Tell me what ails you and I will see if I can help,” said Magnus.

“When I woke from my coma,” said Cordelia, taking a deep breath, “its seems that I have forgotten everything after the moment I got into the carriage with my brother to go to Alicante. I don’t remember being attacked, I don’t remember Belial, and I don’t remember how I got back except for what Lucie and James have told me. We were hoping that you would be able to gain access to my memories to hopefully learn what we can about Belial and his plan.”

“Curious.” Magnus tipped his head and thought for a moment, seeking a reply. “But you did hit your head rather hard in the attack, did you not? It could just be that your brain became scrambled just a bit and you’ve only temporarily forgotten.”

Cordelia and James glanced at each other. “That might be so,” said James, “but if Belial disclosed any information about his plan on how to capture me as his host to Cordelia and erased her memories as she was escaping, then perhaps her memories are key to his defeat.”

“Perhaps.” He looked between the two of them. “Unfortunately for you, your very concerned parents have requested that if you were to come to me, I not assist you.”

Cordelia and James both dropped their shoulders in dejection.

“Fortunately for them,” started Magnus, “in assisting you, I am actually assisting them, which they also asked me to do.” He examined some dust on the mantle. “This is a tough decision.”

A silver tray topped with a simple white teapot and three cups drifted into the room and gently bumped into Magnus’s shoulder. Without looking, he waved it away. “None for me, thank you.”

Cordelia watched as the tray floated over to the elegant wooden table and sank down with a delicate rattle.

“Cream or sugar?” Magnus asked.

“Just cream,” requested Cordelia.

The pot and the milk jar lifted and poured simultaneously into an awaiting tea cup. Cordelia’s mouth gaped as she watched.

“You never fail to dazzle,” said James.

“I invented the word, boy,” grinned Magnus as the tea and cup soared to Cordelia’s awaiting hands. “And don’t you forget it. But, now, back to our predicament. No one else has tried to access these lost memories?”

Cordelia swallowed a mouthful of hot earl grey tea. “The Silent Brothers refused as my mind was still healing from the trauma. They fear it might cause irreversible damage.”

Magnus frowned. “They’re right. Playing with magic in someone’s mind is incredibly dangerous. Especially when it comes to memories. Just the slightest wrong touch and you could forget entirely who you are.”

The teacup rattled on the saucer in Cordelia’s hand. James reached over and placed a hand on her knee.

“You needn’t go through with it, Cordelia,” he said gently. “We’ll wait for the memories to return.”

“What if they don’t?” She reached forward to set her tea back on the table lest she spill it all over Magnus’s gorgeous rug or plush velvet arm chair. “Can you do it? Do you think you can access them without—“

Magnus studied his polished fingernails. “I can try, but despite what some might believe, there are no guarantees when it comes to magic.”

Cordelia glanced over at James beside her. He was already studying her face; his expression was gentle and considering. They’d come all this way and they’d gone through all of the trouble to lie to everyone and she had promised to help in any way that she could to defeat Belial. Still, she knew that if she decided she didn’t want to go through with it, he’d leave this cottage with her and they’d find another way.

But there was always a trust in everyone’s voices when they talked about the infamous Magnus Bane. She’d heard stories of his camaraderie and bravery with the Shadowhunter community for years. The other thing that could possibly match his style and class would be his power.  

“Let’s try,” she said with as much confidence as she could bear to muster.

“Cordelia,” James started. “Are you absolutely certain?”

“No,” said Cordelia, “but you trust him, do you not?”

“With my life,” said James.

Magnus grinned down at his suede boots, pretending not to be listening, or at least not to have any interest in the exchange.

“Then I trust him too. Besides,” she said as she leaned forward to pick up her teacup. “His magic makes a delicious cup of tea and if that’s any indication of his abilities, then I feel completely safe.”

Magnus snapped his fingers and the tray of tea disappeared from the table. He pointed to James next. “James, you lay that blanket over the table. Cordelia, lay on top.”

They did as they were instructed. James removed the tightly knit afghan from the back of the chair and over the coffee table with it. Cordelia sat and swung her legs over until she could recline back in a position that made her feel entirely too vulnerable.

Magnus rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and rubbed his hands together creating sparks between his palms. He came around the table and kneeled down behind Cordelia’s head.

James knelt beside her and offered her his hand. “Perhaps you’d rather wait in the library? This could take some time and may not be pleasant.”

James brushed a strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I don’t have to go anywhere if you’d prefer me here.”

“Actually, it might be better if you left the room,” said Magnus. “It will give Cordelia a chance to speak more freely and I don’t need the concerned significant other hovering over my shoulder while I am trying to work in the delicate details of the human consciousness.”

Cordelia took his hand and squeezed it. “He’s right.”

James leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I won’t be far.”

She nodded and reluctantly let his hand go as he stood.

Once James left the room, Cordelia felt the cool press of Magnus’s fingertips against her temple. “When you’re comfortable, close your eyes for me, Cordelia.”

After several deep breaths, Cordelia let her eyes close and focused her attention on the gentle rush of Magnus’s breath through his nose and the crackling of the fire wood.

“What’s the first thing that you remember from that night?”

Cordelia let the memories rush past her strangely warped and out of order. The first thing that came to mind was standing before James. “I said goodbye to James. I’d broken our engagement and was leaving London for Alicante with my brother.”

The warmth of the tears on her cheeks, the weight in her chest, the ache in her throat, she recalled all of it as if it were happening again. “I remember leaving James. I climbed into the carriage with Alastair. We started arguing. I told him of my plans to join the Iron Sisters when we returned to Alicante. He was so angry with me. He forbade me from doing it. He nearly turned the carriage around when we felt a jolt, as if we lost a wheel, and the carriage stopped.”

The picture in her mind started to become disfigured. Alastair stood in the darkness, a spear in his hands as he yelled something out to her.

“What was that?” Cordelia asked, pushing herself up to her knees.

“I’m not sure.” Alastair reached for the door. “Stay here. I’ll see what’s going on.”

“I’m coming with you.”

The memory started rippling apart like a stone thrown into still waters.

“Hold onto it, Cordelia,” said Magnus. “There’s a block on your memories, but fight through it.”

“Cyril!”

“Run, Miss Carstairs, run.”

The memory shuddered again.

Alastair stood in front of her with a spear in his right hand, held out in front of them ready to empale whatever or whomever came near. At some point, he had abandoned his waist coat and tie. His eyes danced sharply around them. “Draw Cortana, I believe we’re under—“

Then, there was blood everywhere, more blood than she thought she’d ever seen in her life. Head wounds bleed the worst, she told herself. It was fine. He would be fine.

“Cordelia.” More blood seeped from between Alastair’s lips, staining his teeth. “You— It wants—“

A sharp pain lanced through her ribcage, stealing her breath.

“It’s not real, Cordelia,” said Magnus. “It’s just a memory. Keep going.”

It was dark, that much Cordelia could tell, and it was cold. So cold the tips of her fingers ached. She was flat on her stomach, laying on something hard- stone possibly— that chilled her to her core. A dull, but intensifying pain, ached on the right side of her ribcage with every breath that she took. It was also the only part of her that felt inflamed with heat. Her lungs felt too full, the air scratched against the back of her throat as though she’d inhaled a mouth full of soot. She tried to cough, but nearly cried out from the pain in her ribcage.

Laughter echoed around her as she walked forward through the hazy dream. A figure stood in the distance. He was dressed much the same as the last time she’d seen him, in an all white tailored suit complete with black buttons that glistened like eyes- perhaps they were eyes. His pale gray hair swept across his face; in much the same way as James’s, but she would not allow herself to think about that.

Belial.

“What is it that you want from me?” asked Cordelia, the words shook on her lips.

Belial chucked, it echoed around them. “Nothing from you.”

“James.”

No. No that wasn’t right.

The memory focused on her Lucie, standing before her grandfather in full fighting gear.

Belial’s smile glowed in her memory.

Cordelia’s eyes flew open and she blinked up at Magnus and James starting down above her.

“Lucie,” said Cordelia as fresh tears spilled from her eyes. “He wants Lucie.”

A/N: Thanks for waiting on the updates. I hope you guys enjoy this update. Magnus has always (and will always) be one of my favorite characters. I always have so much fun writing him. I hope I did him justice. Sorry if the ending feels a bit rushed (it was), but it was a lot of things we already know and Cordelia is just relearning. Leave me a comment, a like, and please reblog if you’re so inclined. Also, follow along for the next update coming on December 6. Stay safe and stay healthy!

[kaioken16]

Just a One time thing

Mallek Week 2021 - Day 4

Day 4: Fashion  Word count: 2130 Rating: Teens and Up Character(s): Mallek Adalov, MSPA Reader, Original character, Bronya Ursama, Remele Namaaq, Lanque Bombyx, Dammek

AO3 link

A/N: It was hard to figure out what to write, as this prompt would better for a drawn piece. But I managed to come up with something. This was inspired by many offices and fashion company-themed AUs. 

sidenote: MSPA Reader will be referred to as 'Sam' as I have a few headcanon names for them that are nonbinary. 

Summary: A day in the office turns upside down by a series of events, Mallek Adalov, graphic designer and production assistant at a fashion company finds himself temporary modeling for a day.

Mallek was working at his computer, he was roaming through many documents, his eyes were beginning to feel heavy as he had to occasionally remove his glasses to rub his eyes. He had been at this for hours, but nothing he couldn’t help. He worked in the marketing and production department for one of the most successful fashion companies all over Prospit city. Not the kind of place that Mallek would work initially, if you had told him back when he was a teenager that he would be working in a company like this, he would’ve laughed and said that was a funny joke.

But that several years ago and he was now fresh out of university and needed a way to pay the bills for his home, his equipment, and his hobbies. So after a few applications and phone calls and a quick interview, he found himself working here. It was new territory, but the work mostly entailed computer-related stuff, from ordering products and material, going over the programs that the designers used, making sure there were no issues. But it paid really well, the hours were agreeable and the people he worked with were nice.

Mallek had been working in the department for over two months now. And today started off as a normal day, a quiet morning there only a few of them in the office, so he could relax while he worked, as he types away an email for the head office, an empty coffee Starbucks cup was on his right side, along with a half-eaten cinnamon raisin bagel.

Suddenly he hears a loud bang which disrupts the silence, making him stand up from his desk, he then hears wails and a loud voice screaming. Was someone hurt?

He rushes over to the location of the screams to find the scene, four people, pieces of paper all over the place, some just hitting the ground. Your good friend Sam, who was carrying the paperwork, and was probably overlooked due to his short height. Remele, one of the designers who was the one screaming, and Bronya who had an annoyed look on her face, Lanque was also on the ground too, rubbing the back of his head.

“Is everything okay?” Mallek speaks, as it was clearly not okay.

“This is a disaster! Oh no, no, no.”  Remele proclaims.

Lanque chuckles awkwardly “Oh no, it’s okay, I think I’m okay-”

“Not you, you piece of meat! My outfit, it’s been stained.” her gaze is fixed on the stains on the suit he was wearing, as it had been stained with either coffee or water.

Sam immediately goes to try and help Lanque. “I am SO sorry about that, I didn’t see you and I was losing my grip on the papers…”

“NO! Don’t touch my creation before you ruin even more!” Remele shouts which make the tiny individual flinch. She was only a few inches taller than them but still very scary.

“Hey, they’re just to help, and you need to chill.” Bronya snaps back, her tone was firm but not yelling as she goes to help Lanque.

“Here lemme help ya their buddy.” Mallek helps Sam gather up their papers.

Just as Lanque is helped back to his feet when he suddenly hisses out in pain. “Ah!”

“What’s wrong?” Bronya asks him, concerned as she can see the pained look on his face.

“I think... I twisted my ankle.” He says as the pressure on his leg sends pain through his limb.

“What?!” Remele’s eyes widened with shock, she then glared at Sam. “So you damaged my outfit and my model?!” She balls her fists, gritting her teeth causing Sam to hide behind Mallek.

“Whoa, take it easy.” Mallek holds his hands up attempting to diffuse the situation.

“Remele, you need to calm down. We will sort this out, I’ll let Rhakei know what’s happened and we’ll deal with it.” Broyna adds.

“Are you kidding me?! She’ll flip and if he can’t walk, how’s gonna do the shoot? We don’t have to get another model here in time.” Remele argues back as their head designer and studio manager ‘Rhakei Nadzas’ was in charge of the shows and was a no-nonsense woman.

“She’ll understand. We have a spare for this outfit, and we’ll get this one cleaned, but first things first we need to get him some first aid.” Broyna’s first priority was to make sure their model was okay.

Remele was still losing it, putting her hands in her hair. “But where are we gonna find someone 6 foot, and can fit into this outfit within the hour…”

Sam’s eyes were shifting between everyone as they argued, it’s then their eyes shifted up to Mallek. He was over 6ft, and his build was similar to Lanque, and without his glasses and a bit of touch up…

“Uh…” They raise their hands to get everyone’s attention. “Bit of a long shot but Mallek here could do it.”

“What?” Mallek, Broyna, and Remele say in unison at this suggestion.

Mallek chuckles nervously. “Oh no, no… I’m not a model I couldn’t possibly-”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Lanque says which was even more surprising to hear.

“Seriously? I just work here in the office, I don’t think I could-” Mallek is cut off as Remele suddenly approaches him, and pulls off his glasses, he blinks a few times adjusting, she then examines him cupping his chin and moving his head around.

“Long shot, but we don’t have much time.” Remele says. “Okay, I’ll take him to hair and makeup and get him fitted.” she says without letting Mallek get a word in, she pulls him along out of the office.

The next thing Mallek knew he was brought before Ms. Nadzas by Remele who gives her the rundown and after being ‘examined’ by her as well she gives it all clear. Mallek felt like he can’t say no in this situation and wanted to lend a hand since he could tell that Remele was both desperate and would want Sam’s head on a platter, and he wasn’t mad at his friend for suggesting him. He just wanted to be helpful and do whatever he could to make the situation easier for the company. They needed to get these photos done for the shoot by the end of the day, and only had an hour to get ready as other departments would need the camera and get to the photo ready. Plus it was just gonna be a one time thing after all...

…

How on earth did you feel yourself in this situation? That was the thought that was racing through your head. What chain of events led to you here. One minute you came into work, to handle some server issues, and sort out some files and orders for an upcoming show. Now here you are dressed in an all black suit, tight-fitted like you could see everything more or less. You had been given a touch up on makeup, and your hair had been slicked back. You were standing backstage, waiting for the shoot to begin. Yes, a fashion shoot.

You had to keep reminding yourself of that as this was really happening right now. To say that you were nervous would be a major understatement. This was a very extroverted activity you were about to engage in, which didn’t match with your introverted tendencies.

But it wasn’t like you had much of a choice.

Just then you hear footsteps approaching from behind, you look behind you to see Rhakei, the tall jadeblood wearing a simple long dress, high heeled shoes, on her right arm was a wristband which flowers sewed into, and under her left arm was a clipboard with a bunch of documents, her hair is tied back into a ponytail. Before you can say anything she invades your personal space, and reaches up to your hair, fixing something by the expression on her.

Then she walks around you, you can feel her touch on your clothing, followed by the sound of her pen writing short notes on her clipboard. “Hmm. Very nice.” She says but you weren’t so sure if she was complimenting you or the material of the outfit, there was no in-between with her.

“You also clean up very well.” Okay, now you know that she was talking about the suit earlier.

“Thanks…”

“Alright, nothing too serious just a few photos in our three outfits along with the other model and that’s it.” She explains to you in a quick tone, as this was the first of three new outfits that you would be modeling for.

“O-okay. I understand…”

She must’ve caught the nervous tone in your voice because she looked at you directly but only for a moment her eyes returned to her clipboard. “Deep breaths, relax, this is just an only time thing. And no pressure we would be jumping down your throat or being hostile. You’re doing us a favor on the short notice and we appreciate it.” That was a very kind thing to come from her, considering that you had heard on many occasions her arguing with the head designer in his office, between raised voices and literal objects being thrown around.

Guess you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

“You’ll be fine Mallek, just relax, and if you feel stuck or uncomfortable just let or the others know. And you won’t be alone out there either.” She reminds you as there would another model right beside you, and it was only gonna be a handful of people so it wouldn’t be too embarrassing.

“You ready?” Rhakei asks as you just nod.

She smiles faintly and leads out to the photoshoot. They're waiting for you was another troll, a bronze with antler horns, his eyes were shielded by sunglasses, he was wearing a completely different outfit. While you were in a suit, he was wearing a leather jacket, a long sleeved shirt, jeans and boots, and a pair of spiked cuffs.

“Alright boys, we’ll be doing a few photos for each outfit, a few poses, shouldn’t take too long.”

“Dammek, this is Mallek, he works in one of our offices and will be filling in for Lanque just for today. There was an incident earlier.” Rhakei casually explains to the other model, naming him ‘Dammek’.

“Alright, that’s fine. I’m cool with this.” Dammek responds in a nonchalant manner, it didn’t seem to bother him.

“Great, then let’s get started.” She says as the camera and lighting team sets up for the shoot…

“Okay, here we go…” You whisper to yourself under your breath.

…

Later on, after the photoshoot, Mallek is back in his normal clothes back at the office, he was a little exhausted leaning back into his chair. That was… Something. Miss Nadzas said that he was a real natural, he did well and even Dammek complimented him, it really boosted his confidence, and he ended up having fun with it too. It was very straightforward, the only hectic part was sudden outfit changes and his questions regarding how he should pose, and many other questions. But other than that, it went really well, Remele was happy that the outfit looked good in the photos, Lanque was grateful for his help, and both Broyna and Sam said he did a great job.

“Hey, dude!” He looks over to see Sam smiling, holding what was probably a peace offering, some fresh coffee, and something that smells really good.

“Just thought I would drop these off.” They place the items at your desk.

“Thanks.” Mallek smiles as he was in need of some fuel, opening the bag to see the contents, some slices of pizza.

“Sorry again for throwing ya under the bus like that, I hope you didn’t mind plus the photos looked really great.” Sam rubs the back of their head, it just happened.

“Don’t worry about it. At least this way you wouldn’t get murdered by Remele for the accident.” Mallek jokes at his friend’s expense as this would be a new thing to joke about.

Sam chuckles. “Y-yeah, she said that we’re even so that means I’m off her kill list. Just gotta be more careful in the future.”

“So whaddya think, you could definitely be a model on a regular basis, maybe do a fashion show.” Sam retorts as they had a new topic to tease Mallek with as well.

Mallek laughs. “Ha! Nope. My modeling career began and ended today, this was a one-time thing so Remele wouldn’t murder you and they could get the photos for the designs ready for the magazine.”

“If you say so dude, but you did look great out there.” Sam adds which does make Mallek smile.

[pastelbrachypelma]

Blind Date

Requested by @swampythesweetsketch ! Thank you for your suggestion and I hope you like it!

~

“I’m so nervous,” Murray admitted, sitting in front of the mirror and staring at himself. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Dude, c’mon!” Sly retorted, barely looking up from where he was putting a top coat over Murray’s nail polish. “If he doesn’t like you, then I’m Santa Claus!”

“That can be arranged,” Bentley teased. “Seriously, though, Murray. Just be yourself. That’s how to be the most attractive.”

“Yeah,” Murray looked away. “I guess. But…”

“Hey,” Sly slid onto the vanity, gently pushing aside a makeup palette with his tail as he sat directly in front of his friend. “Stop worrying, okay?” He grinned. “You know this guy is into you. You’ve been talking for ages. It’s worth a shot at least, right?”

“Right!” Murray squared his shoulders like he was going into battle, and wasn’t wearing holographic nails and a smokey eye. “Thanks for doin my topcoat for me, Sly. And thanks for helping me with my suit, Bentley.”

“No problem,” his brothers said simultaneously.

Sly patted Murray’s shoulder. “Go get ‘im, pal.”

“We’ll be waiting,” Bentley promised.

Murray smiled, and headed out the door.

“All right, Sly,” Bentley said, “you know what to do.”

Sly grabbed his binocucom and cane. “On it!”

~

Murray was already nervous enough being in a sizable crowd with bounty on his head, but, just as Sly had assured him, Murray was the best at disguises out of all of them, and nobody would recognize “The Murray” with makeup on.

He liked his makeup look; just a foundation to match his skin tone, a little contour, blush, and a smokey eye. Sly had helped with his nails, and they looked good. It wasn’t like Murray couldn’t have done it on his own, but Sly wanted to help, and he was better at nails than at eyeliner. Murray chuckled to himself, thinking of the last time Sly tried to do a winged liner. He’d looked even more like a raccoon than usual!

He was sitting alone at the table, waiting for his date, like he had been for the better part of an hour. Every time the door opened, he would look up, expecting to see a handsome man looking for his table. But, it was just couples or families. He sighed. He was sure a blind date would’ve been better, seeing as nobody could turn him down just because of his weight, but maybe the guy had guessed, judging by how much Murray talked about recipes. Or maybe he thought Murray was a sissy, or…

The door opened again, to someone by themselves. Except Murray could recognize that tail in his sleep. Sly had a satin jacket over a button-down shirt, hair slicked back. He was wearing the dance shoes they’d stolen from India, and was looking a little lost. Murray was a bit worried for two reasons. The first was that Sly was here at all; had something happened? The second was that Sly could only handle big crowds if he was at a social event. Parties, he liked. There were excuses to mingle in small groups. He had never liked large throngs of people. If Sly has a panic attack…

But instead, Sly found him (after pretending to have been looking for him) and waved. Murray waved back, confused, as Sly strode forward confidently through the crowd.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Sly said, brushing dust off his lapels. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“You didn’t,” Murray said, a bit confused. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Sly demurred, giggling shyly. “Oh, don’t be silly! How could I ever turn down a hunk like you?”

Murray wanted to laugh. Sly liked playing the effeminate gay. The question was, why was he doing that in the first place? At that moment, the door to the restaurant opened again, and Bentley rolled his wheelchair inside. People who were waiting for a table stepped aside to give him room. He was disguised as well, a cloth hat matching the more casual dark wash denim jacket he was wearing over a black necktie. Murray could appreciate the aesthetic...but he was still confused.

Bentley made his way towards the table. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, pitching his voice deeper in contrast to the way Sly’s had been more high-pitched. “Hey! What’re you doing here?” He glared at Sly.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” Sly pointed an accusing finger at Bentley. “I’m here for my date!”

“So am I,” Bentley said, and Murray smiled, starting to catch on. “One of us has the wrong table and you, buddy,” the turtle wheeled into Sly’s space, making the raccoon step back, hand splayed on his heart in dramatic offense, “are definitely at the wrong table. This gentleman is far too handsome for you!”

“I think he’s just the right amount of handsome,” Sly argues. “Just look at those bulging muscles,” he gestured, and Murray flexed, having a bit of fun now that he was in on the joke. “A man like that deserves the world!”

“Guys, you’re gonna make me blush,” Murray grumbled under his breath. Sly winked before sliding back into character as Bentley charged further.

“And? You still kept this gorgeous man waiting! Look at the poor guy’s makeup! All smudged because you were off…” Bentley waved his hand as he searched for an insult, “vaping!”

Sly gasped. “Do you think I would smoke around such a deceptively delicate flower?! The nerve!”

Murray looked over again as the restaurant doors opened. It was his real date, a buck with gold chains draped artfully around his antlers, dressed to the nines in a slimming suit to complement his slender body. Murray recognized the designer logo on his tie, and felt shame creep up his throat as he thought of his thrifted jacket and pilfered shirt. Even the silk skirt he was so proud of made him feel like a freak next to this guy.

“What’s going on here?” The buck spoke, his voice like molten chocolate, as he approached the table. “Which of you is Murray?” His eyes slid approvingly over Sly, and Murray hid his face. “I hope it’s you, handsome.”

“Sorry,” Sly slid in beside Murray, hooking his arm through the hippo’s. “I’m taken. Happily.”

“Me too.” Bentley took Murray’s hand, glaring at the buck.

The deer narrowed his eyes, then laughed. “Oh, thank god,” he said, relieved. “I could never be seen with such a,” he waved his hand derisively, “hideous beast.”

“Hey,” Sly said, voice sharp despite the different pitch. Murray recognized it as the raccoon’s “don’t fuck with me” voice, a rarely seen anger flashing in his eyes. “Murray is amazing! He’s funny and kind and always knows what to say!”

“His strength and skill can’t be matched!” Bentley agreed.

“And tonight, he’s my date.” Sly declared. “So fuck off.”

“No, he’s my date,” Bentley argued. “You fuck off!”

As his two friends bickered, Murray watched the deer walk away. He felt a little bit upset at the rejection, but his friends were nearby, defending him on what was technically their night off. He felt warm inside even so. It was good to be with his brothers again.

Once the deer was out of sight, Sly deflated. “Ack, my throat,” he complained. “I don’t know how you do those high-pitches voices, Murray. I feel like I’ll be raspy by tomorrow!”

Murray chuckled. “It takes practice.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Bentley suggested. “I think we’ve caused enough of a scene.” He glanced at the table. “Nothing needs to be paid for, right?”

“Nope. I didn’t order yet.” Murray replied.

“Let’s get Chinese,” Sly said, stretching as Murray got to his feet. “I saw a great place on the way over.” He locked his arm through Murray’s, hiding a yawn in the hippo’s bicep.

“Do you mean you saw it or smelled it?” Bentley asked, guiding Murray to the handles of his chair. That was about equivalent to hand-holding, Murray knew.

Sly laughed. “Both!”

“Chinese sounds fantastic,” Murray said, sighing in the fresh air. He was still upset about being stood up. He was glad for his friends, but…

“That guy was a complete jerk,” Bentley grumbled, going back to controlling his own chair as Sly let go of Murray. It wasn’t a sudden “no homo” sort of thing, though. It was more of a natural progression as they walked together on the sidewalk, with Bentley’s chair a half-step ahead. “What didjya day his name was?”

“Pierce Monogram,” Murray said. “Trust fund baby, I think. Works in the family business selling shoes.”

“That’s ironic,” Sly mused, swinging his arms up to rest behind his head as he walked. “He wasn’t wearing shoes.”

Murray laughed. “No, I guess he wasn’t. That’s a dealbreaker for me.”

“Murray, you don’t wear shoes either,” Bentley said.

“Exactly!” Murray went on, still laughing. “Somebody has to wear the shoes in the relationship!”

All three of them laughed, and couldn’t stop laughing until they reached the Chinese.

~

“Ah, the smell of sweet, sweet MSG,” Sly licked his lips as he set out the various cartons and bowls.

“This isn’t going to give me indigestion, is it?” Bentley asked skeptically, wrinkling his nose.

“No, no, I got your egg rolls and plain rice here,” Sly set out the food separately for Bentley before using a set of chopsticks to serve himself liberal amount of pork fried rice and vegetable lo mein, claiming one of the containers of scallion pancakes for himself.

“Man,” Murray grinned, slurping his hot and sour soup, “I forgot how good Chinese food actually is.”

“Right?!” Sly beamed. “Glad I thought of it. I haven’t had a good Chinese in months!”

“It’s delicious, I agree. Pass the wonton soup, Murray?” Bentley asked.

“What’re we watchin?” Sly asked between shoveling noodles into his mouth.

Murray blushed. “Are you guys gonna kill me if I say I wanna watch “Pitch Perfect” again?”

Sly swallowed noisily. “Nah, I like that one all right. It’s funny.”

“I’ve no objection,” Bentley said, taking off his glasses momentarily to clean them of the fog from his soup. “It’s date night, after all. You always pick the films for date night.”

“You guys still wanna call it date night?” Murray asked.

The gang had always jokingly held “date nights” for self care, movies, and video games. But that had been before Murray was officially out of the closet. His friends were straight. He thought they hadn’t had a date night in a while because his friends didn’t want to do that sort of this with him now that he was out as gay.

Sly leaned forward. “You okay, big guy?”

Murray sniffled. “I...I dunno, I thought you guys...didn’t wanna do this with me anymore.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Bentley asked.

“I’m gay,” Murray confessed. “I like guys.”

“So?” Sly twitched his tail in confusion. “You’re still my brother. My friend.” He waved his tail in Murray’s face, making the hippo sneeze. “In case I haven’t made it abundantly clear,” the raccoon snuggled up properly against Murray’s side, chittering quietly, “I love you, pal.”

“So do I,” Bentley affirmed. “And...not to be too blunt about it, but...it was pretty obvious to me that you weren’t straight. But,” he cleared his throat, smiling. “That never mattered to me. You’re still my brother. And I still love you.”

Murray rubbed the tears out of his eyes. “Thanks, guys.”

“Sure thing, Murray,” Sly replied, butting his head against Murray’s shoulder before sitting up to properly shovel more food down his throat.

“I’ll get the DVD,” Bentley abandoned his food momentarily and rolled his chair over to set up the TV. Once he was done, he took his food and rolled closer to the couch, so Murray could enjoy his comfort, too.

Murray smiled warmly, happily chowing down on Chinese food and shouting all the words to the songs at the top of his lungs.

That was the best part about being home, Murray decided as he laughed at Sly nearly choking on a wonton and Bentley snorting soup out his nose. Being with the people who loved you unconditionally.