#the greater order

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

When in doubt, Soup it out.

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[jacketpotatoo]

The thematic implications of Caitlyn transitioning from solely a sharpshooter, to learning the ropes of hand-to-hand combat, and how it follows her growing distrust in Ambessa. If the weapon is a reflection of mentality, it prefigures Cait's mental expansion - away from narrow-minded thinking and acting from a distance. Instead of tackling from afar, she melds her skills in accuracy and deduction *with* close-up action. This is her power play. "Vision" is cait's strength (as opposed to "Might" and "Guile" and "Sacrifice") and Ambessa qualifies this with the phrase "tunnels in your eyes". Ironically, she trains Caitlyn and literally gives her the tools to pull away from her rifle-mindset. In teaching her how Noxus views strength, she offers her the keys to dismantle it

[disabled-dean]

Changing channels 2.0 but Gabriel makes Cas the Bachelor and Dean is the P.A. having an excruciating awakening of homosexual lust

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

It's DNA

I was watching Smough's video, and he featured this sacred seal from the Erdtree peoples who were inspired by the Hornsent peoples.

The Land of the Tower (Hornsent) considered helixes as some kind of divine geometry/symbol. The double helix is notably calls to mind either the Caduceus symbol of medicine (twin snakes in a double helix - wink nudge nudge) OR...

It looks like a strand of DNA.

The Crucible wasnt just the primordial form of the Erd Tree. It was the primordial form of Everything - all living beings. To be Crucible blessed like the Hornsent is to acquire a mixture of active genes that would be have been recessive otherwise- thats why you get wings, horns, tails. (We share 90% or so of our DNA with like flies or bananas!)

Everyone is technically born from the Crucible and (as Marika proves by birthing OMEN sons) the Hornsent/Shaman are the same species!! Again recessive genes that get activated maybe?

And guess what? Splicing, grafting - that could be done to trees... or DNA... Godrick's prized practice is essentially a revised version of what the Crucible does naturally to living creatures.

The Crucible = The Gene Pool

[blasphemousclaw]

Do you think radagon ever regretted leaving his wife and kids? I always had a headcanon that he did love them deeply but due to a mix of beliefs, aswell as being a literal pawn for the two fingers and greater will he did it cause he had to.

ok in all seriousness, I do believe Radagon did genuinely love Rennala and his children based on the way Miriel talks about him and Rennala. However, despite his love for them, I don’t think he necessarily regretted leaving them.

Radagon has shown at every turn that above all, he is loyal to the Golden Order — Marika calls him “leal hound of the Golden Order,” he’s identified as “of the Golden Order” in his boss fight, and he attempted to repair the Elden Ring after Marika shattered it. While Marika wants us to succeed in becoming Elden Lord, granting the Tarnished grace and tasking Hewg with crafting a weapon that can kill a god, Radagon does not want us to succeed, blocking off the entrance to the Erdtree with impenetrable thorns in the shape of his rune, and personally attacking us once we make it inside… he would rather the Order be preserved in its shattered state than be created anew. Radagon even turned the greatsword Rennala gave him upon their marriage into a Golden Order greatsword:

“Greatsword made of light, modeled after the Elden Ring itself. Forged by King Consort Radagon to proudly symbolize the tenets of the Golden Order. One of the legendary armaments. Telltale signs betray that this was once the greatsword bequeathed to him by his first wife, Rennala.”

Perhaps he chose to reforge the sword in order to still carry a memory of Rennala with him, but the fact remains that he has changed this sword from one of Carian make into one “proudly symbolizing the tenets of the Golden Order.” To me, this reads as carrying the past with you, but still forging ahead with what you believe is your duty… Golden Order fundamentalism also combines faith and intelligence, integrating the knowledge Radagon learned as Rennala’s husband with his Golden Order faith.

Essentially, Radagon is a zealot who will serve the Golden Order no matter the personal cost. And I do believe him leaving Rennala and their children was a great personal cost to him… he loved them, but he left them anyway. His cutscene upon his defeat is a perfect symbol of this idea — his body itself being turned into a sword, a literal tool used by the Elden Beast:

“Sword wrought from the remains of a god who should have lived a life eternal. Thoughts on what the weapon portends are many and varied. Some consider it the mark of a great sin, or a sign of great devastation. Some think of it as the end of an age, while others; the beginning.” (Sacred Relic Sword)

[starfreak]

Random Elden Ring Rant (Contains Spoilers, VERY LONG)

So, the Numen. We can choose it as a character preset, which tells us they come from another world, or another land. I say "or another land" because historically, America is referred to as the "New World," but it's not a separate planet. However, translations from the Japanese version of the game suggest that the world they come from is one of spirits, the dead, etc., so it could definitely be a Literal other world.

Marika is (rumored to be) a Numen, as are the Black Knife Assassins that participated in the Night of Black Knives.

If Marika is Numen, then it stands to reason so is Radagon, since they are the same person in the same body. This means their children together, Malenia and Miquella (and now presumably Messmer since he has red hair like Radagon, but Miyazaki said that he's the child of Marika, so unless there's another red-haired hottie running around the Lands Between, Radagon is the father), are also Numen. This also means that other children of Marika/Radagon are half-Numen.

It seems Numen are not a single ethnicity, but a whole race of people, with various different contradicting skin tones and hair colors. The template in the character creator has medium-dark skin and brown hair. Marika has pale skin and golden hair (possibly changed to be gold from the Greater Will's influence) and Radagon has the same skin with fiery red hair. We know from the Giant's Red Braid item description (below) that Radagon was either cursed by the Fire Giants or simply born with red hair. I mean...no item descriptions suggest he was born with it...but if I was born with hair I hated, I would blame it on a curse too. Though, to be fair, it IS the same color as the Fire Giants' hair.

Also the Black Knife Assassins have no physical form, so we can't discern their hair or skin colors.

So skin tone seems like a non-factor, but Hair is much harder to parse, due to half the Numen in the game having fiery hair and pronouns. The game says nothing about Marika's hair changing to gold, so it may have always been that color, leading me to believe that indeed, Numen are just...magic humans from a land far away...she's just blonde.

WELP.

That's all cool, but what is the culture of the Numen like? Well we can see that they have a very strong affinity for women and femininity. Not only is Marika, the most powerful Numen we know, a woman...all of the Black Knives are women. Additionally, if we choose to believe that Malenia and Miquella are Numen, this fact is further evidenced by Malenia's being a strong warrior woman (she is literally a Valkyrie) and Miquella's own complex gender identity. Miquella was (supposedly) born male, but presented as rather feminine/androgynous all his life. While Malenia is a masculine woman and reflects Radagon, Miquella is a feminine boy reflecting Marika. Not to mention that Miquella is ALMOST DEFINITELY Saint Trina, who is exclusively referred to as feminine.

In addition to the stong feminine aspects of Numen society apparent in the overabundance of strong fem-presenting characters, the description of Marika's Hammer suggests that women in Numen society (like Marika) have a role as destroyers and warriors, while men (Radagon) have a role of construction and repair.

"Queen Marika shattered the Elden Ring and Radagon attempted to repair it."

Again, this is just speculation, and the mythological actions of Radagon/Marika are likely motivated by a mutlitude of things (namely, the Greater Will constantly looming over them, the presence of the Elden Beast constantly lurking just under the surface), but I'm making do with what I have.

Also, back to genetics of the Numen again for a second, of all Radagon and Marika's children outside of the ones they had together (Messmer and the Twin Empyreans), most of them seem to inherit Radagon/Marika's hair.

Radagon and Rennala's kids, Radahn, Rykard, and Ranni, (presumably) have red hair. We never actually see Ranni's hair pre-doll form, so I'm assuming it's red lkke her brothers'.

Marika and Godfrey's kids, Godwyn, Mohg, and Morgott, all have either pale hair or no hair (Mohg has no hair visible on account of all the omen horns).

So it seems like the genes of Numen are incredibly dominant, even dominating the gene pool multiple generations after the first. Godwyn's kids, Godrick and Godefroy, have the same hair color as he does. Malenia's "daughters," although not genetically related to her, all seem to have gained her red hair through exposure to her Scarlet Aeonia. This may also be true of the Cleanrot Knights, but they could also have plucked the red hairs from Fire Giants or Leonine Misbegotten and used them as decor for their armor.

Even merely interacting with a Numen as powerful as Marika, or her direct children, can change one's appearance irreversably. Sure, this could all likely be from her status as a God, but who knows how powerful the average Numen could become if granted the strength? We become Elden Lord after all.

[aq2003]

macbeth star wars au. i am cringe but i am free

[miquella-everywhere]

Fr tho Marika is the worst mother ever

She gouged out the eyes of her first born and after a while couldn't even bother to look past his deformities and abandoned him in a parallel dimension to carry out her divinely mandated bloodshed but he still tried to please his mother because he loved her but at the very end realized that she didn't love him and cursed her with his dying breath, she was apparently a healer and a God on top of that but evidently did absolutely nothing to try and help her daughter who suffered from "rot-from-the-inside-out" disease from birth and did not care about her, and now with her history with the hornsent you know damn well that she absolutely loathed the omen twins and felt no remorse throwing them into the sewers

and then you have her youngest son who was absolutely terrified by the idea of becoming a God and saw all of his mothers evils for what they were but also believed that godhood was the only thing that could fix the misery she inflicted upon the world so you can only imagine the kind of toxic traumatic relationship he had with her throughout in his eternal childhood and also marikas grace sending us to murder said child

like damn what the hell

And I do not give two shits about her "my family died 😢" sob story because if anything it pisses me off even more

Like I have seen so many interpretations that Marika must have been a good person for what she did at the Shaman Village and tried to be good past that, but no.

Absolutely not.

The Shaman Village is where Marika buried her kindness and went on to commit a Genocide and one bloody slaughter after another and another and another and another and another...

Gideon says it best when he confronts us; "Queen Marika wants us to struggle unto Eternity."

Marika killed her kindness and made sure that the rest of the world would suffer alongside her, including her own children.

and yknow what?

I actually would not have minded any of this and definitely would've liked her character way more if the DLC actually went into detail about how she betrayed, murdered and stole from a pregnant woman in order to ascend to Godhood

like

yas! 👏 you go you unapologetic power hungry queen! 👏

but now with the story trailer fucking lying and the dlc doing everything to try an justify her genocidal bullshit I'm actually pissed the hell off

[lyculuscaelus]

The difference in popularity when it comes to the nine ἀριστῆες who volunteered to duel with Hector (ten if we’re counting Menelaus) has never ceased to amuse me. Like, despite being specifically listed by Homer to tell you that they’re the best of the best and having a bunch of mentions in the Iliad, Idomeneus and Meriones just didn’t get the popularity as Diomedes and Odysseus got, then Agamemnon and the two Aiantes having the next tier of popularity. Still, I believe the two of them were mentioned every now and then. Meanwhile, do I even need to mention Eurypylus son of Euaemon and Thoas son of Andraemon?

[ratwithhands]

Fun fact I used to consume a lot of Land of the Lustrous stuff.

Anyways this is one of my many Land of the Lustrous OCs, Vivianite. Mohs hardness of 1.5, dark green/blue in colour, and very old. Due to the nature of his weak composition, Vivianite can't actually do much of anything, and has had to live under very specific conditions.

Vivianite wears a tight full body uniform to hold any chipped pieces in place, and is kept in a box stuffed with loose cloth to ensure minimal damage. If he comes into contact with light, he begins to oxidize and darken, so he's kept in a windowless room with curtains over the entrance.

That's all to say he's isolated and bored. He spends much of his time inactive, but he'll jump at the opportunity for conversation if there's someone around. Certain gems visit him to chat, get guidance, or give him the recent news. A task given to some gems is to clear his room of dust, and maybe bring him some books if he's up for it.

Vivian sees himself as an older sibling/friend to many of the other gems, and as such he's very keen on providing a listening ear and giving advice where possible to those who need it. He's essentially emotional support in a can.

Other notes/details:

not all gems know Vivian exists! He's hidden away so most gems wouldn't see him unless they were actively looking for him. A lot of the older ones know about him, but the younger ones don't

Rutile is endlessly tired of having to glue him back together so often due to his softness, which is part of why he has a tighter uniform to keep all his broken pieces in place

Vivian struggles with walking, he tends to be slow and stumbly

the tanks in Vivian's room are for jellyfish. Gems who are sent to clean his room have to switch out the jellyfish too. They're there to provide a faint light source so he doesn't go completely inactive

Vivian, despite living in a box in the dark, has a lot of technical knowledge about things as a result of millennia of going through the library collection. He' a living encyclopedia and can usually offer some answers if a gem has questions on a particular subject

his internal structure is basically a lot of shards stuck together like fibers, so he does minor repairs on himself by affixing strands of his hair into empty spots. He's had his fingers repaired and replaced this way often

In the few instances where Vivian has gone outside, he has an abnormally high amount of energy as a result of his inclusions being able to work at full capacity in the light

If I remember anything else I'll add it, anyways have a good day!

[pinkfey]

ice cold take but i hate how male centered fandom is

[drunk-on-starlight]

The sequels don't get enough credit (now, anyways) for pointing out that however edgy, radical and legitimately dangerous fascists are, they're also total fucking losers.

Young people radicalized by old men and women into a meat grinder because they think society was better in the bad old days, weaponized nostalgia at anyone they hate. But all that does is make them look and act like children playing dress up, throwing the worlds greatest temper tantrum as a reaction to progressive movements

[trenchgardens-ooc-ooc-ooc-ooc]

your mommas lyin'... what's she tryin' to do...

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Though The Path May Be Long, I Shall Find You; Ruggie Bucchi

A path lies ahead, some are more treacherous than others. At the end of the winding, coloured footsteps is where they can rest; a bird directing them forward, made out of precious stone.

Main Character; Ruggie Bucchi

Supporting Roles; Grandma Bucchi, Rho (Ruggie's bird)

Content; Soulmate AU (I use the term soul match), gender-neutral reader, this can be read as platonic, familial, or romantic, hurt/comfort, I get emotional yet again about Ruggie, stressed reader

Content Warning; Ruggie's backstory (his mom's death and I mention childbirth, but describe nothing), self-doubt (reader), allusions of depression (reader), anxiety attacks (reader)

Word Count; 5 K

Do not put mine - or other creators' - works into AI; that shit steals.

Prologue & Leona's Story | Jack's Story

Ruggie was out with the adults, tagging along to collect honey to bring back to the village. He followed silently behind his grandmother, holding her hand. Ahead of them two birds flew ahead, honeyguides, singing their song to alert the beastmen that there was a hive ahead. A hive full of sweet honey, a rare treat saved for the elderly and the young of the village.

“You see those birds, Ruggie,” his grandmother nodded up to where the birds flew. “Those are honeyguides. Your mother…” The woman paused, taking in a calming breath. It’s been nearly five years since her daughter, her only child, had passed away due to complications from childbirth. Unfortunately, it was common for many first-time hyena beastmen to pass while delivering… and such a fate fell upon her. She shook her head, continuing with her tale. “Your mother, her messenger was a honeyguide.”

Ruggie looked up to his grandmother. “Mama had one of those birds?” He tried whistling the tune of their leading song, but it just came out as raspberries.

His grandmother chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Yes, and oh the trouble those two got into. How do you think I got all this grey hair?” She tugged at a few strands to prove her point. She did their whistle, going slowly so that Ruggie could practice alongside her. “Like this.”

Ruggie eventually got the call down and whistled towards the other adults, and the two honeyguides. “Gramma?” He tugged at her shirt. She looked down and picked him up, putting him up on her shoulders. “Do you think my messenger will be a honeyguide… just like Mama’s?”

She smiled bittersweetly, picturing the rose quartz bird that stood still by the only pictures she had of her daughter. “Hmm, maybe. But that’s for the winds to decide. Regardless though, they’ll bring you great happiness.”

“Gramma?” Ruggie placed his head on top of hers. “What’s your messenger? Did Mama meet her soul match? Did you meet yours?”

The birds stopped, as they arrived at the hive. The adults tasked with smoking the bees out got to their jobs, passing down honey from the rock crevice and putting aside some of the comb for the birds. This harvest looked like it would be enough to feed both the elders and the children, plus some extra left over for the harvesters.

Ruggie’s grandmother hummed to herself. “I think that’s a story for a later time, no? Now come on, try some of this honey, it’s the sweetest I’ve ever had in all my years.”

She never got her messenger. Never had been gifted a soul match by the King of Beasts or the southern winds. And her daughter had met her match, but then he left after her death; her messenger going still after her passing. Leaving the ageing woman all alone, with only a few photos, her daughter’s lifeless messenger, and Ruggie. The person who looked the most like her.

…

The stars twinkled in the night sky, and Ruggie reached his hand out. “Hi, Mama,” he whispered. “I hope you’re doing okay up there in the stars… Tomorrow is my birthday ya know! I’m getting a messenger, just like you did!”

A gentle warm breeze caressed his face, and a shooting star raced against the deep indigo sky. Make a wish. Ruggie clamoured over the window, the breeze playing with his hair. He leaned against the frame, and closed his eyes. “Mama, if you’re up there listening… I wish that you could be my messenger. I know that I never got the chance to meet you, to get to know you, but I want to. I want to get to know you. And I know that you can’t be here, but … I love you, Mama.”

He cracked open his eyes and saw that the entire night sky was filled with shooting stars, a sign of a good omen. The warm breeze tickled his nose before going back out of the window. In the distance, he could hear a lone hyena calling out to its clan, but no one called back. He looked out into the sea of shooting stars and located the star he designated for his mom; an orange star, large, but not super noticeable. A warm amber amongst the darkness of the sky and pale blues of other stars.

He yawned and went back to his bed, clutching on to one of his mom’s old stuffies; a patched up warthog. “Good night, Mama, I love you.” He closed his eyes and was off to the land of dreams.

The light breeze was back, warm and carrying the scent of honey. It carried a small pink crystal bird with it, placing it gently at the foot of the bed, looking after Ruggie’s sleeping form. A honeyguide, much like his own late mother’s. It too being made out of pink crystal, but rhodochrosite, not rose quartz. A crystal meaning compassion, love, comfort, and happiness.

When Ruggie woke up he stared at the bird before cradling it gently to his heart. He walked to his grandmother’s door. “Look, gramma, it’s just like Mama’s!”

His grandmother hugged him, clutching on tightly to his back, tears rolling down her cheeks. Perhaps this life had been cruel to her, but she at least knew that her grandson, her only family, had someone out there. And that maybe, just maybe, her daughter was looking down from the stars smiling and looking out for her son.

…

…

…

Ruggie kept his messenger on him at all times. When he was wearing his dorm uniform, he kept the pink bird on a braided necklace that his grandmother made him for his fifth birthday, using some fabric from one of his mother’s old scarves. Whereas, when he was in the school uniform he kept it in his breast pocket, above his heart. And he would subconsciously check throughout the day to make sure that it was still there, a habit of his. 

It’s been four years, and yet the bird has yet to come to life. But Ruggie didn’t feel bitter, or sad. He knew that life wasn’t fair, he has witnessed that much. He has lived it, experienced that it wasn’t fair. Knew that it was something you could only make the best of. He also knew that he shouldn’t complain. He was thankful that he had at least something to match his mother. A symbol that she was always looking after him. So, even if the messenger never came to life, he could at least have an aspect of his mother. Thankful that there was at least a chance of him having a soul match out there, somewhere.

He hadn’t told his grandmother, as he didn’t want to bring a sense of sadness; had she not gone through enough? The last thing that he wanted to do was to bring more pain to the ageing woman’s heart. He just wanted her to be happy. She had done so much for him, sacrificed so much; the least he could do was give her some hope. That he could bring their family out of poverty. That he could get a well-paying job. That he could find happiness. That she needs not to worry about him. That he would be okay. That they would be okay.

Besides, the new school year was beginning and he was positive that would mean that Leona would give him odd jobs to do. But hey, money is money, and he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when said gift horse paid him graciously. 

So, Ruggie was busying himself by rearranging his room, placing the few personal belongings that he had in their spots. The photo of him and his grandmother, and next to it, the warthog plush that belonged to his mom. Everything else was hand-me-downs from Leona, or related to schoolwork. The only other personal things he had was the braided necklace, and of course, his messenger. He whistled the honeyguide call to himself, making sure everything was in place. Leona was off at the ceremony, so he basically had the day free to himself. He could probably go off and work some odd errands, but just for today, he would relax.

He closed his eyes and rubbed the wings of the stone bird. “I know you’re out there. I want to find you,” he sighed, holding the bird to his chest. “Let me find you.” He tried to fight off the drowsiness that was taking hold — it wasn’t even nighttime yet — but it won in the end, and he fell asleep.

As the sun set, and the waning moon rose, a warm breeze carried the scent of hibiscus flowers and honey, ruffling his hair. The stone bird tumbled out of Ruggie’s hand, falling gently onto the blankets. The breeze caressed it, and the stone honeyguide ruffled its feathers for the first time. It hopped upright and nestled in the sleeping hyena-beastman’s hair, singing its guiding call softly.

…

Ruggie stretched awake, the room still dark as the sun had not yet woken up for the day. The waning moon, and stars provided the only light, casting the room in blue and silver light. He walked over to the window and looked out, searching for his mom’s star. “Hi mom,” he said to the warm amber star up in the sky. A warm breeze tickled his ears, and he imagined it was her playing with them. “Can you show me a sign?” About my soul match?

Something shifted under the bedsheets, and Ruggie’s ears twitched at the noise. He crept over to the bed, and lifted up the sheet carefully, unsure of what it could be. Underneath the blanket was the stone honeyguide, twitching in its sleep.

His eyes widened, and he carefully scooped up the little bird, cradling it in his hands. After all of these years. After all of the hardships that he has endured. All of the uncertainty. His soul match was here. He took in a sharp breath, trying to control the well of emotions that had sprung forth; that his soul match was alive, and that maybe his mother, and not the King of Beasts, had sent him a sign. That he wouldn’t be alone in this life. But a lone tear traced down the planes of his face, dropping onto the bird.

This is your sign, take it, my love.

…

…

…

You didn’t know what to make of any of this. Being transported into some dimension and waking up in a coffin of all things. That you now live in a decrepit mansion with some cat-monster and ghosts. That magic existed and you had several life-endangering encounters with said magic. And that you now have a small bird made out of pink crystal, and that it was alive. That it could talk.

“You know,” the bird hopped onto your head, “I can’t explain more than you need to be privy to.” Their voice played in your mind, and you tried to ignore them, instead focusing on the tall stack of books about dimensions; trying to find a way home.

You waved a hand around, forcing the bird to take flight, landing on your desk. “I am well aware of that, since you dodge every single one of my questions,” you huff, flipping over the page since it had nothing relevant about your situation. It only said that giraffes were originally demons hailing from the Boiling Isles, wherever that was. This dimension had evil giraffes, but apparently your dimension without magic was far more ludicrous than that. Predictable. “So if you aren’t going to be helpful, just leave me alone. I don’t need your ‘help’.”

The bird gave you a bombastic glare, huffing to itself it went to a small dark brown leather bound journal with the gold insignia of a lion and a hornbill, placing it in front of you. “No need to get snippy with me. Here, read this, it should explain everything you need to know. I can’t do anything else pertaining to your questions now though, know that.” With that, the bird took off through the window, off to who knows where. 

You sighed, but focused on the journal they put in front of you and cracked open the centuries old leather.

Of all the magic there is in Twisted Wonderland, the most coveted, the most revered, is the magic of soul matches. These matches come in many different forms, different for every person. Platonic. Familial. Romantic. Those are the most common. For the merfolk it is a song that only they can hear, their match tugging at their soul. Gifted to them by the benevolence of the Sea Witch. For fae it is yet to be revealed, as they are a secretive lot. Fearing that should anyone outside of their clan know that that information would be used against them. All that is known by outsiders is that they were gifted from the Thorn Fairy, a blessing. As for beastmen, and anyone hailing from the Sunset Savanaclaw, they were gifted bird messengers made from precious stone. It is said the crystal represents what their match will bring to them. And once they feel that they are ready, a glowing path of footsteps will lead them to their match. The birds will dance, and then they will know that they have found each other.

You placed the journal back down, brows creasing. You weren’t from the Sunset Savannah, let alone this dimension in the first place. How on Earth do you have a messenger? Why do you have a messenger? And what did it mean? I’m not ready for this… I don’t think I’ll ever be.

…

…

Ruggie had formed a friendship with his bird, and he even gave her a name; Rho. She doted over him, and her voice was what he imagined his mother’s was like; confident, caring, and warm. And even though he had a friendship with her, he has yet to see the glowing footsteps. He was more than ready to meet them, so it must mean that his soul match, whoever they were, wasn’t. 

“It’s unlike you to dwell on possibilities,” Rho said, landing on his shoulder, returning from one of her daily flights. “Uncertainty clouds your mind, much as the smoke from a brush fire does. Clogging out any possible light from the bright sun that lies beyond the thick smoke.” Rho also happened to be quite poetic and… concerning? But she was sweet, so he ignored the cryptic verses.

Ruggie shook his head, trying to centre his mind. “Hmm? Just thinking is all. Ya don’t need to worry about me, Rho. Shishishi!” But she was right, as his mind tended to go down the more pessimistic path.

What if his soul match was never ready? What if they didn’t want to find him? What if they would reject him after finding out about the cards he was dealt in life? Would they stay by his side as he pulled himself, his family, and his community out of poverty? Would they… would they be like his ‘dad’ and ditch him in hopes of better prospects elsewhere, never to come back? To leave him behind? Leaving him alone to take care of everything, with no one to turn to for support?

Rho sighed, and hopped onto his head, ruffling his hair. “See, uncertainty. A tree cannot grow if it does not receive sunlight. And you cannot grow if you doubt yourself.”

He rolled his eyes, but she was right, as per usual. “Yeah yeah, I know,” he sounded relaxed but he took the words to heart. It’s something his grandma would also tell him, albeit she would get straight to the point. Something like, Quit doubting yourself. You are more than capable. Plus I love ya, and that’s what matters!

But Rho looked unconvinced. “If you want, I can go… persuade their bird to encourage them to meet you.”

“Thought that was against the rules though?” Messengers aren’t allowed to disclose any information that could change their match’s mind on whether they wanted to meet or not. He had no idea why, but it was seen as a big no-no. “Didn’t take you as the rule breaking type.”

Rho flitted down to the windowsill, looking out into the Savanaclaw Dorm exterior. “As long as I don’t let anything slip, it is fine. A gentle nudge if you will. And technically, I am breaking no rules. Just paying a visit to my counterpart to discuss their progress. That is all.”

Ruggie raised a brow, chuckling to himself. “Shishishi, you’re a horrible liar,” he poked her on the nose. “Just don’t get caught, okay?”

Rho nipped at him and took off into flight. “Need not to worry.” She didn’t add her own thought, which was I’m unsure if they will be able to see me or not. It’s been several weeks since they arrived and I’ve seen no sign of them.

…

The bird has persisted to follow you everywhere you went; to all your classes, and you had to kick it out of the washroom on several occasions as well. Everywhere. And they. Would. Not. Shut. Up.

“Hey! Hey! You really need to find them!” They pulled at your uniform, trying to get your attention. “Hellooooo! Are you even listening to me?”

Unfortunately, yes. All you wanted to do was get back home. Yes, you have made friends here. You had fun. But you didn’t belong here, or least, you felt like you didn’t belong. The magicless Prefect from another, magicless, dimension. The closest thing you could even call family here would be Grim, and the three main ghosts who are still tethered to the Ramshackle Dorm. Stuck here without any clear way out, much like you are.

You glared at the bird, looking away from the nth book about different dimensions, still finding dillidy squat. “Yes,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I heard you the first time. But until I find answers, they can wait. They’ve waited this long, I can survive without them.”

The bird plopped itself onto the book, effectively preventing you from reading any further. “Exactly. They’ve waited for this long. They thought that there was no one out there for them. I know that you’re tired; tired of not getting answers. Tired of being treated as less than due to your situation. Tired of not knowing. But know this; there is someone who wants nothing more than to meet you. They don’t care that you don’t have magic. They don’t care that you’re from a different place. They just want to know you.”

That made you pause in your research, hands trembling. They were right. You are exhausted from everything. 

“Now now,” a second voice played in your head, the voice of a woman. But when you looked up you saw another crystal bird, the only thing differing it from yours was that it had more red and white bands. “No need to be nasty. Dear, come now. What is weighing so heavily on your mind?”

Unlike your bird, this newcomer was gentle, and didn’t prod you. They hopped forward, wiping a tear from your face. Since when had you started crying? But the few pebbles that were trying to hold together the dam came surging forward, and the new bird comforted you, wiping your tears away.

“Dear, you’ll be okay,” they said, handing you a tissue. “You don’t always have to be strong. There is no weakness in admitting that you need help. That not everything is okay. There is strength in that.”

The flood of emotions, of stress, of anxiety, of being overworked, of being everyone’s therapist calmed down from a raging torrent to a gentle trickle. Taking the tissue you blew your nose. “I don’t feel okay… I’m so,” you took in a choked breath, “tired.” It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, admitting to the truth. “I’m just so tired. I should be angry, but I’m just so tired.”

The bird put a wing on your face, holding it with care, with love. They had only just met you but have shown so much more kindness and empathy than anyone else during your stay. “Life has not been kind to you,” they said, rubbing grounding circles onto your palms, guiding your breathing. “You deserve to feel wanted. Deserve compassion. To be comforted when the dark clouds seem like they engulf all light. You deserve to be happy.”

“Why are you telling me all this,” you croaked, voice cracking. “I’ve ignored them-”

The pink bird shook their head, “No, you’ve been surviving, and adapting. But if you wish, if you are ready, you can find him.” They hopped back up to the open window, looking at you warmly. A soft breeze played with the ragged curtains, carrying the scent of honey, but also the smell of home. “Will you be alright?”

You rubbed at your nose, still feeling shaky but better. Not feeling like a water balloon about to burst. “I will be.”

The bird nodded, “Should you need anything do call. Your match calls me Rho.” They took flight, heading back to your match. And you could make out the faintest hints of glowing dandelion-yellow footsteps fading into the distance.

…

…

Ruggie had not had much free time for himself, being busy with schoolwork, lessons from Leona, and his normal workload alongside odd jobs to make some extra cash to send home. But even with the hustle and bustle, he had noticed the footsteps. They were faint, sometimes wavering, but they were there. It means that they’re open to meeting him, but not quite sure. Still some doubt in their mind.

“What did you tell them?” He looked up from the dishes he was scrubbing, filling in a shift at the Mostro Lounge.

Rho popped out from his breast pocket, climbing up to his shoulder. “That they aren’t alone. That they will be okay.”

Ruggie felt like there was something heavy in his throat. They feel alone? They aren’t okay? “Rho,” his grip on the plate that he was scrubbing tightened, and he forced himself to release it before he caused cracks. “What did you do? Where are they?”

“Ruggie, they will be okay. I told them words that they needed to hear. Affirming words.” Rho’s voice took on a more stern tone, which made Ruggie back off, but he still worried. “What did we say about dwelling on things outside of our control?”

Ruggie took in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and released, calming his mind. “That it’s like the smoke of a brush fire. That beyond the dark smoke, there is sky beyond it, and fresh air… this too will pass.”

Rho let out a guiding call, “Good-”

Ruggie quickly grabbed her and put Rho in his pocket, hearing the door from the kitchen open. He didn’t want someone to walk in and find him ‘talking to air’ and think he was slacking off. “How is everything goin’ on out there?” He got back to scrubbing dishes, covering up that he was previously not.

“Quiet,” you huffed, putting on an apron and coming to stand next to him. “Azul has been trying to butter me up into making a contract with him… again.” You shook your head, rolling your eyes, “But I reminded him of what happened last time and he left well enough alone.”

Ruggie relaxed, it was just you. “Heyya, Prefect. Long time no see? Decided you were too good for Savanaclaw, huh?” He teased, bumping his shoulder to yours.

You bumped him back. Ever since you had to crash at Savanaclaw, you had formed a friendship with the hyena-beastman. He didn’t hide behind a mask, he was authentic, and that put you at ease. “Pshh,” you swatted at him with a towel, “like you could really get rid of me that easily, gotta come over and bug Leona every now and then. Keep him humble.”

“Pftt,” Ruggie burst out laughing. “Yeah, ��keep him humble’. Just as long as ya don’t mess with him too much, yeah? Remember, I usually do his work.” There was no bite, and he swatted you back. “These dishes won’t clean themselves, come one, before Azul finds us slackin’ off.”

You quirked a brow but got to work, you would rather do the dishes and make light conversation, or just enjoy the quiet, with Ruggie, than deal with rude customers or being roped into something. So you and Ruggie worked in relative silence, working on getting the large pile of dishes done. The only thing breaking the silence being the distinct whistle Ruggie did quietly.

“Just curious, but what kind of whistle is that?” You put down the large pan you were rinsing off, down to dry, turning to Ruggie.

Ruggie stopped, his left ear twitching. “Ah, it’s just something I picked up when I was younger.” But he could see the curiosity in your eyes, and he decided to humour you. “It’s a honeyguide call, a type of bird. We used to work with them back at home to collect honey.”

Why does it sound so familiar then? Where have I heard it before? “Could you show me how to do it?”

As Ruggie taught you how to make the call, the two of you failed to notice Rho slip out of his pocket, flying up to where your bird rested. “We should just tell them! Look! The footprints are right there! Are they that dense?!” They huffed.

Rho shook her head, “They will do so on their accord. For now, let them be. They’re happy.”

…

…

The footsteps were glowing brightly now, a bright, warm, dandelion yellow. Cheerful, playful, and happy. But you hadn’t followed them yet, doubt still on your mind. Why did someone else get to pick my soul match? Shouldn’t I have a say in this? But every time those doubts came forward, the other pink bird, Rho she said her name was, would come for a visit.

“Good day, Prefect. How are you faring today?” She hopped over to your desk where you had a book about this world open, reading about beastmen and Sunset Savannah cultural practices.

You placed a bookmark on the page you were on, which discussed the caste system. “Doing better. But, Rho?” You held out a finger, and she hopped on. “I’m curious; what kind of bird are you?”

Rho cocked her head, “Ah, I thought you knew. My dear, I am a honeyguide.” She let out a call.

“A honeyguide…” You froze in your seat. It’s a honeyguide call. You knew you had heard that call before, your own messenger waking you up every morning with it. Did that mean… was Ruggie your soul match? The honeyguide. The feeling that everything would work out for the better when you were around Ruggie. He just felt… correct to you. Like home.

You rushed towards the front door, Rho and your own honeyguide clutching onto your uniform for dear life. “AFTER ALL THESE MONTHS YOU CHANGE YOUR HEART?!” Your honeyguide shrieked, falling off.

“Hush you!” Rho scolded, sending off your messenger to find Ruggie. “I take it you connected the dots then? You don’t need to rush, dear.” She said.

You didn’t slow down though, if anything you sped up. “My match is Ruggie, isn’t he?” It was stated like a question, but you knew that it was a statement. “I’ve kept him waiting! Kept him out!” You knew a bit about what Ruggie’s life was like before attending Night Raven College. That fate had seemed to mock him… and you also mocked him unknowingly.

Rho pulled on your ear, pulling you out of your spiral. “You weren’t ready, you cannot and should not blame yourself! You were making the best out of your situation!” This was the first time that Rho had sounded upset.

You stopped your frantic pace, halting in the middle of the hallway. Students passed by, some giving you weird looks, but they continued on their way. But someone stopped, and stepped aside, watching.

“I hurt him!” You shouted, but no one but you, and your match could hear when you spoke to your birds. “Hasn’t he been hurt enough?”

The footsteps were blinding now, he couldn’t be far away.

“Doesn’t he deserve to be happy? Don’t I deserve to be happy?! Why should some long ago king dictate how we should be happy?! We didn’t ask for this! Any of this!” You were heaving, the dam of emotions breaking again, tears rushing down your face in full force. “Rho,” you whispered, “I just want a place to call home. It doesn’t need to be the one I knew. It doesn’t need to be fancy, or elaborate. It doesn’t even need to be a place. He feels like home, where I can rest.”

But Rho wasn’t there anymore, your bird was now on your shoulder, trying to move you forward. “Well, you can’t do that if you just stay there! MOVE!”

You looked up and the footsteps were gone, in front of you was Ruggie with Rho on his shoulder. You hiccupped, be it from crying, the emotions, or the shock that he was right there, within reach. “Did you hear all of that?”

Ruggie nodded, “Yeah, yeah I did.”

Rho and your messenger took flight, performing the soul match dance before Rho landed on your shoulder, and your bird landed on Ruggie’s. And they sang the honeyguide call, indicating that there was something sweet ahead.

“Come on,” he took you to an empty classroom, away from prying eyes. “Here, breathe with me. In; one, two, three.” You breathed in as he instructed. “Hold; one, two, three.” You held. “And out; one, two, three.” And you breathed out. “Better?” He caressed the knuckles of your hand gently.

You nodded. “Ruggie, I’m sor-”

He stopped you, smiling. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. What matters most is that we found each other… That we chose each other.”

Fin

Author's Note; I literally cried writing this (I was emotional at the time). Ruggie's story has been in my brain since I put his name on the list for this AU. It has haunted me for weeks. Have had the honeyguide song stuck in my head for years ever since I first heard it on Wild Kratts of all things. My favourite one I've written as of yet; up there with Jade's.

Tag; @leonistic

Link to Masterlist

[geminialchemist]

This is a theory I crafted up about the Golden Order, the Crucible, and the Frenzied Flame shortly after I beat the dlc the first time. I wrote it down, and forgot about it until just now, so it’ll be a little bit less well researched, seeing as it’s from waaay before the wiki had info to pull from, and so is probably shaky by our understanding of the dlc today, but I still wanted to share.

Spoilers for Shadow of the Erdtree below!

The Golden Order, the Crucible, and the Frenzied Flame are all the same thing.

So, this is one of the wilder theories, though hopefully not Pepe Silvia levels of conspiracy. If Marika can be Radagon, and if Miquella could be St. Trina, why can’t the Greater Will be the Frenzied Flame?

Throughout Elden Ring, we find out that that the Golden order assimilated a lot of things into it, even things that seem contradictory to the teachings of the Erdtree, like Carian sorcery. One of its primary teachings is that all things can be conjoined.

(Mirial dialogue upon getting a book o’ miracles)

“Oh, what have we here? Very well, let us both learn together. Heresy is not native to the world; it is but a contrivance. All things can be conjoined."

Now, this alone doesn’t mean much, the Golden Order is just branching out and adopting other cultures teachings like a lot of religions do to assimilate more followers, rather than fusing everything by melting it down with flame.

One more thing to keep in mind for later before we leave the Golden Order side of things, the DLC revealed something interesting about the Two Fingers, and the Golden Order. That even before the time Marika became a god, the Fingers had stopped receiving word from the Greater Will to guide them. The entire order is built on a lie, and no one in the Lands Between have communed with the Greater Will in a very, very long time.

Meanwhile, the DLC has the Hornsent, people who worshipped the Crucible, which came before Marika’s Golden Order. Anyone who has entered the various gaols knows the horrors they inflicted. The Hornsent believed that blending life together was a holy act, and massacred Marika’s people to put them into jars as saints, because of how easily their flesh melded with others. Now we’re getting closer to the premise of this theory. But take a look a this:

(Aspect of the Crucible: Breath description)

This is a manifestation of the Erdtree's primal vital energies - an aspect of the primordial crucible, where all life was once blended together.

The Erdtree seems to have some ties to the Crucible’s energies, which ties the two together on some level. Conjoining all things, and blending life together. And do you know what a crucible is? A crucible is a container used in smithing that you melt things in to blend them into one, heated over an open flame.

Hyetta has some interesting dialogue as well at the end of her questline:

(Hyetta dialogue)

"All that there is came from the One Great. Then came fractures, and births, and souls.

But the Greater Will made a mistake. Torment, despair, affliction... every sin, every curse. Every one, born of the mistake.

And so, what was borrowed must be returned. Melt it all away, with the yellow chaos flame. Until all is One again."

Note that she says the Greater Will made a mistake, in a way that implies that it’s something the Greater Will is fixing. It broke one into all, now it has to be made one again through the yellow chaos flames. The same Greater Will that the Two Fingers can no longer contact. Except for the Three Fingers, who seem to have found a different god to listen to. Or perhaps they found the same one, and are just doing what they were made to do, follow the Greater Will’s orders, and help burn down the world.

The Greater Will is order, and the Frenzy is Chaos, and I think they came from the same place. Two sides of the same coin, two halves of a whole being, and one of them isn’t listening or reaching out anymore. Much like Miquella stuffed St. Trina in a cave at the deepest part of the world, The Frenzied Flame has cut off the Greater Will to fix their mistake and melt it all down, back into one. It just needs a way to worm its ideology into the minds of men. Perhaps a religion is introduced that familiarized people with the concept of conjoining things, until it gets more and more extreme, and the frenzy appears, ripe in their minds. In the Shadow Lands, a place where physically conjoining flesh is the norm, the Frenzied Flame seems to have considerably more influence in comparison to the Lands Between, infecting an entire region of the map of the DLC, and even having a failed Lord of Frenzied Flame as a boss.

I swear I’m not a conspiracy nut, but if I come off as mad, well… MAY CHAOS TAKE THE WORLD! AHAHAHAHA!

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday, Fallout OC Sheet & Enemies Meme

Tagging @imogenkol @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @cloudofbutterflies92 @josephseedismyfather @direwombat @noodlecupcakes @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @raresvtm @derelictheretic @cassietrn @aceghosts @davrinsgriffons @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @softtidesworld-deactivated20241 @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who want to join.

Alright last two Five Nights at Freddy's songs for this little spout of FNAF resurgence. Anyway, music for The UnTitledverse and The Silver Chronicles with templates for OCs from A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore and An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts Trilogy. You can listen and view these below the cut:

First song is for my FNAF WIP More Than Bargained For? and it is a remix song for the Ruin DLC of Five Nights at Freddy's: Security Breach made by my one of my favorite artists The Stupendium (who previously made a FNAF: SB song). Anywho, plot relevance. Unless the next game(s) come out, the Security Breach and Ruin DLC (plus FNAF VR: HW2) are intended to be the last section of the "Lena finally destroys the Mimic and takes down Fazbear Entertainment" arc, and after that will be the "let's all get healthy coping mechanisms and therapy" epilogue. At this point, Lena's done with this shit, like, this is the culmination of everything she's had to do and go through just to finally put a final end to this tragedy, just like Henry and Mike would have wanted. For her efforts at the Pizzeria Megaplex, she gets a little brother in Gregory, a little sister in Cassie, new animatronic friends rocking their aesthetics and gives Vanessa a sapphic awakening. Her girlfriend Cassandra's going to be thrilled. [Cassandra be like: "Ah yes, just me, my girlfriend, her new gremlin brother and sister that she adopted, the alien shapeshifter she befriended with his android girlfriends, the queer mall cop she saved from the serial-killing bunny-looking malware, an animatronic daycare attendant struggling with self-identity, and the 2,000 pound bear, chicken, wolf and alligator animatronics that slay the 80s vibe... truly winning in life."] Anyway song below:

"So you're trapped after dark in the park and you're tasked with surviving the night So your ma and your pa have departed the party and left you to fight So hang tight, to the tickets you've won And your toy laser gun Set your Faz-watch to 'fun' 'Cause it's hide and seek hunted By musical monsters Ain't that what you wanted? You came for some games and a bite The doors have all been closed but the stage has been set So on with the show, no escaping it yet The night is still young and the fun's just begun You've been played like your grave of arcade cabinets

When you've gates stormed by gators and wolves at the door When the power is down, you can't bear any more When each tick of the clock has you checking your watch And the chicken is watching you hungry for gore Oh, the fun that's in store! (Oh, the fun that's in store!)

Come get a pizza the action You want a pizza the action A tasty pizza the action You want a pizza the action

So come pick your destiny off of the menu (Fate won't wait 'til the sun comes up) Or be laid to rest in your favorite venue (Arcade to arcade, crust to crust) In this amusement park you are the Super Star We know that you'll go far but you must choose your path Those neon tubes cast shadows on a truth so dark It's up to you to battle its putrid heart So savor the taste of your last pepperoni (You've got a party pass to a backstage tour) 'Cause you're taking the stage for one night only (But will dawn chorus be your encore?)

Perhaps it's your birthday? Or your graduation? We're always the first place for a celebration Now maybe you've heard say, of some violations But it's not since Thursday we've had strangulations The go-karts are revved and the ball pit's been cleaned Montgomery's ready to tear up the scene Roxy's got the rock that's just got to be seen Just as soon as Chica's cleaned out the canteen Hear the cry of the fans as we strike up the band Now the time is at hand for the tightest of jams 'Cause it's tiny and cramped where you're hiding but Vanny Won't find you when crammed inside our leading man

When you've gates stormed by gators and wolves at the door When the power is down, you can't bear any more When the sun's gone away but the moon's come to play A more punishing game till the break of the dawn Oh, the fun that's in store! (Oh, the fun that's in store!)

Come get a pizza the action You want a pizza the action A tasty pizza the action You want a pizza the action

Darkness falls across the mall And metal mascots stalk the halls More murderous with each defect And out to prowl the pizzaplex And whomsoever shall be found By S.T.A.F.F Bot hoards that roll around Must then escape the bunny's wrath Or rot inside a stomach hatch The air is filled with pungent reek Of robots oiled in pizza grease And terror's bathed in neon light Are on the hunt to grab a bite For no amount of birthday cake Piñatas, games or fanfare Will help a lonely child survive The night at Freddy Fazbear's..."

Okay, the final(ish) FNAF song for this FNAF song streak I decided to do. Straight up, with The Living Tombstone's "This Comes From Inside", it's my favorite FNAF based song of all time. And I'm likely going to make 100 essays of why this song fits each of my stories, characters and the fandoms I'm in despite it being made for one fandom, and I will be really annoying about it. However, for now, I'll start with my Unnamed Elden Ring WIP. There are three main Tarnished OCs (with more on the side) that this WIP follows; Logan the Vagabond of No Renown (you can guess what his class is), Selke the All-Seeing Mage (she already knows of the horrors before she even experiences them), and lastly... Chiwa (...the Formless Mother favors this one). Let's focus on Logan. The Land's Between is stuck in a stalemate of a forever war, with nothing really proceeding and with no Demigods gaining the title of Elden Lord and achieving the Elden Ring, Queen Marika's Grace awakens the Tarnished that were previously exiled beyond the Fog, to call them back and do what Marika's children failed to do. Logan is amongst the earliest Tarnished to be revived (perhaps even a bit too early) and through no fault of his own, becomes one of the oldest Tarnished through process of waiting and living throughout the decades. Where he is at fault is his ambition (and his tendency to just... be a piece of shit, in general). In his youth, he was no better than the Demigods in his own hungry quest for power, glory, and reaching for riches and respect he'll never actually receive... given all the bridges he burns and the mistakes he refuses to learn from until it's way too late. Speaking of which, in his elder years, his ambition becomes... lackluster, to say the least. Considering what he learns from this whole thing, he becomes as bad as Morgott; he doesn't believe there can be anyway to proceed, so he just leaves the Lands in this state of a slow decay. The main theme of this WIP (as is the main theme of the series it comes from; The Silver Chronicles) is change. Change of self, change of system, change of environment, change of eras, change of ideologies and much, much more. With Logan, "This Comes From Inside" acknowledges what he comes to learn in his final years; nothing is going to change. With the way him and many others try (or tried) to satisfy their lust for power, they're just gonna remain in this stagnate state of despair and suffering to the expense of everyone else. If he wants to succeed, he needs to change his own inner-corruption... and if not? Things will only get worse. But the thing is, Logan won't do that, because he has no reason, no incentive, no purpose to do so in the present. He has died so many times for something he no longer believes in nor cares to do so, to the point his Grace is becoming more difficult to see every day. And when that's gone... he too will succumb to death. And even if he could get past his apathy, bitterness and selfishness, he's far from his prime nor can he do anything remotely closely impactful for anyone else. His use of Grace grows thinner too, so he only has a number of revivals before he's dead for good. So he can do nothing... unless he finds a drive to change. And he does; discovering it locked away in the darkest chasms that only the Eternal Queen Marika knew of... and sets out on a new quest with only two new goals in mind; to tempt an Outer God in a binding contract to give a fighting chance to become Elden Lord, and to ensure ownership over the Great Rune of the Unborn, no matter what it takes. I'm sure I'll expand more in either the notes or a more refined essay of ramblings. Enjoy listening below:

"How we could have known That we're stuck in a system? There was a pre-existing dictum, programmed to do nothing else Why feel so alone When we share so much wisdom? But you set fire to the kingdom, burn it all until it melts Or else

Now this comes from inside, how long do we have to try? Now this comes from inside, and stays there until you die Now this comes from inside, how long do we have to try? No this comes from inside, and stays there until you die

Long time ago, it was all for a show Fill out wounds with a pound of salt And your reason to justify scars You can't quantify, lock us inside a vault

Now this is your fault Everything is a problem There was a poison in the air, despair is an eternal blight You're losing it all You've been blinded by stardom You think that you're alone, but we are waiting for you every night You're mine

Now this comes from inside, how long do we have to try? Now this comes from inside, and stays there until you die Now this comes from inside, what you have, I want, it's mine Now this comes from inside, and stays there until you die!"

Here is a Fallout OC Sheet Template for my Vault Dweller OC Elrand Brandt from my UnTitled Fallout WIP from my A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore series. You can find a blank template at the end too:

And finally an Enemies Meme for two characters from my An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts Trilogy WIPs, specifically two characters named Tyche (the God of Luck) and Rouske (pronounced ROSS-SH):

And the Empty Templates are all here: