#the knight in solider armor | cloud

[wizard-finix]

LU Star Wars AU: Part 5

LAST BUT NOT LEAST ITS TIME AND SKY LETS GO

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Time

Time is a direct survivor of Order 66. He was a child living in one of the more remote temples when everything happened, and was able to escape alive by fleeing into the dense forests of the planet.

Time spent many years after that traveling on his own and not getting close to anyone out of fear of being found out, or worse, left behind. He holds a certain bitterness towards everything that's happened, and when he was a teenager, he was involved in a major incident on the planet Termina. Time finally decided to bury his saber on a remote planet after that, unwilling to take on the responsibility that comes with it.

Time actually ended up meeting Sheik and donning Mandalorian armor some time after that in his teenage years. He doesnt always gel with Mandalorian warrior ideaology, but he doesn’t truly fit the Jedi way of his childhood anymore either, after all the war and death he’s seen. He's determined to be strong enough to protect those he cares about, like Malon.

Time doesn't entirely get along with the Chain at first. (Especially Warriors and Twilight; Warriors reminds him of his old Jedi master, who wore a red scarf, and Twilight's saber looks suspiciously familiar.) The boys eventually grew on him anyway, and he counts them among the people he cares about.

Sky

Sky comes from a gaseous planet in the Outer Rim with settlements that float in the clouds, constructed far above its surface.

Sky's planet is a bit of a cosmic mystery, since it should be impossible for islands of solid rock to float; some theorize that it was constructed instead of naturally occurring, or that there is a unique combination of magnetic fields and orbits that make it possible, but no one knows for certain. Loftwings are part of the planet's ecosystem of impossible floating islands, and are an important part of the culture there.

Being so remote, the Empire didn't show much interest in Sky's home planet until Ghirahim showed up. The Empire hasn’t taken over his home yet, and he is determined to keep it that way, along with the rest of the Knights of Skyloft (including Sun). Ghirahim's interest in the planet involved rumors that there was an old Jedi temple hidden on its surface, and the secrets that were hidden within it.

Those rumors turned out to be true; there was an ancient abandoned temple on one of the floating islands, and Sky and Sun ended up discovering it before Ghirahim did. Sky also found a protocol droid named F1, and with Fi's help he and Sun managed to forge their own sabers with the only remaining kyber crystals there.

Sky's connection to the Force manifests mostly as visions, and he occasionally experiences strange, cryptic dreams as a result.

Linked Universe AU belongs to @ linkeduniverse!

[gerbiloftriumph]

Lost and Found (ao3):

Grandpa's story of the goblin caves started out familiarly enough, but as he spoke, the story started to twist and change. New friends, new conversations, and new ways to use old items transformed the tale, and the young king discovered new ways to be brave in the dark tunnels beneath Daventry.

~*~

An attempt to reinsert the cut lines from the subtitle file. Ch2 has a ton of cut content, and a lot of the lost dialogue is grand, but currently the only way to read it is in a contextless, barely legible slurry in the game files. I'm reconstituting it and fluffing it up and out to make it more accessible.

(1/?)

Daventry guidebooks usually didn’t mention the rain. Which was fine, really, according to the Committee for Tourism Improvement, which mostly consisted of Royal Guard Number Two and a pile of badly illustrated pamphlets he trotted out whenever someone remembered they had a Committee for Tourism Improvement and wanted a meeting about it.

“It’s not like it rains all the time,” he said. “Not worth mentioning to anyone.”

“It rains for a solid week.”

“Yeah, but that’s just one week during the summer.”

“Peak tourism season!”

“So, we sell them more umbrellas. Win for everyone. They stay dry, we can afford armor polish.”

For a solid week, give or take a handful of days on either side of it, midsummer rains crash over the mountains. The heavy clouds are buffeted by winds from the neighboring country of Serenia, and they get caught in the low valleys and tangled forests, lingering like a bad cough (which the rains often give the citizens with weaker lungs, a cough which might outlive the rains, outlive the people). Lightning illuminates the lanes, thunder rattles ill-fitting window frames, and the rain sweeps everything away. Sweeps it into the tunnels and caves below the kingdom, cleaning away the detritus of the previous season and leaving the streets sparkling with water and reflected lightning.

Once a year, the rain takes everything away.

Everything.

Even, sometimes, people. Even, once, the king himself.

~*~

The King of Daventry was very much being swept away with the rain. Not by any fault of his own, except perhaps his own inattentiveness and the ability to be in exactly the wrong place at exactly the wrong time.

His curly hair was soaked through, rainwater dripping in his eyes beneath his crown. Ropes binding his shoulders and wrists and ankles were swollen with water. He strained uselessly against them, bumping into the goblins that stood at attention beside him. Goblins as unbothered by the rain as they’d been unbothered by his helpless protests. Water rolled from their sharp spear points, like the raindrops had been cut in half.

They were racing down the river on a raft—a mattress, really. Bouncing from boulder to boulder, ricocheting high into the air before coming back down with a wet thump. Water splashed up over the lip of the mattress, but the occupants were already soaked. Wet on wet felt like a slap, though, and it just made the king more irritated.

Not that there was anything he could do. As nice as it would be to lash out, to knock these goblins from their posts, he wouldn’t get far past those spears, and then he’d still be on this raft, bouncing past blurry, waterlogged riverbanks with no real way to stop it. He also thought about diving off the raft and swimming to safety, but the water was fast, their hands were tight on his shoulders, and his own hands were knotted up behind him.

No, he was well and truly being washed away with the rest of the rubbish of the country, falling deep into the caves.

He couldn’t help but wonder what else was getting washed away tonight. Seeds, flowers, maybe even trees.

More than that. People, too. Villagers, maybe. Guards, possibly. Knights, perhaps.

Kings, absolutely.

Pushed into the darkness beneath the country. Gone.

For now, at least.

~*~

“Grandpa, you told me this story already.”

“Did I? Are you sure?” He was leaning forward, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye that Gwendolyn didn’t notice—she was staring intently at the mirror and the images it was showing off, of a bedraggled king being wrestled down a long, dark cave passage by a cluster of bouncing goblins. A grim image, but it was lightened by the candles and the tapestries and the warmth of the bedtime story setting surrounding it.

“Very.” She watched one of the mirror goblins trip the mirror king, and then thump him over the head with a glowing mushroom before laughing. The little mirror king scowled, while the real-life Graham smiled. The images weren’t exactly what the mirror had shown a couple days ago, but the basic idea looked the same.

“Okay, you’re right, I did.” The real Graham waved a hand. “I told you all about the goblins, and the caves, and Whisper and Acorn—”

“Wait, you didn’t mention them before.” Gwendolyn turned, and then she noticed the grin on her grandpa’s face.

“No—to tell the truth, Gwendolyn, I left out a lot of details the other night.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know. I wanted to tell a story, and it was a good story. The right story for that night. But that doesn’t mean it was the whole story.”

“Some people would say that makes you an unreliable narrator.” She was already getting comfortable in the chair, settling down for a long story.

“Unreliable? Me? Never! I’m very reliable! Okay, I wasn’t that reliable a couple nights ago, and I wasn’t that reliable back on that rainy night.”

“Tell me?”

“Of course.”

~*~

Graham blinked at the salamander. It blinked back. It lazily flicked its tail.

“Yeah, granted, but I dunno, I still think she should have ended up with the duke,” Graham said. “It just would have been better for her character arc, y’know?”

The salamander yawned, long pink tongue flicking out.

“He wasn’t boring, didn’t you read the bit where he helped save her from the sea serpent?” Graham argued.

The salamander curled up, delicately put its tail over its nose, and closed its eyes.

“You’re not a very good book club partner,” Graham said, and leaned back against the little stone block he’d been using as a table.

The salamander said nothing, as the salamander had done all day, every day, for the last three days. It glowed faintly in the dark, casting a strange blue wash over Graham’s surroundings. Rocks, mostly, and a couple pipes. A handful of most definitely poisonous mushrooms.

“To be fair,” Graham said, “it’s been a couple years since I read it, too. Maybe we should recite addendums again? Start up where we left off? Number, ah, three thousand seven hundred and two? And a half?”

The salamander started to snore.

“Or maybe I could break down the door, steal a spear, thump the guards over the head, get out of here, and be home before tea time. That could be fun.”

The door in question was very soundly locked with a very secure padlock. He would know. He’d spent hours staring at it, wishing it would break by sheer force of will, with no luck. Which left him locked in a small and unpleasant cell. It was damp, and cold, and full of glowy salamanders, and had no way out. Not for lack of trying, kicking, knocking, pleading with empty shadows.

What had happened was this: he’d had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. An audience had gone loudly and poorly, with royal guards declaring the day opposite day (approved by Graham accidentally), the throne room filling with squirrels and snutes and rather too much chaos for one person to sensibly manage. So, flustered and feeling like this was just the frosting-on-the-custard-pie of his miserable and uncertain week (…make it months, really, ever since that equally frantic and sudden coronation), he’d snuck out for a walk to try and calm down. He’d been pinned in the castle for ages, trying to learn what it meant to be a king, and he wanted to get outside, unbothered and unfollowed. For once.

The fact that it was monsoon season and thus pouring rain didn’t really help, but he was determined. He’d gone for town, trying to see if Wente or Amaya or Muriel (not Chester) could offer advice, warmth, comfort, anything.

Anything, before he gave up everything.

But he hadn’t found villagers. He’d barely knocked on Wente’s door with broken hope fluttering in his chest before something shrill shattered the night. A flute. He’d spun, soppy cloak swirling out behind him, looked up, saw goblins, saw goblins pounce, and then...well, not much more to tell after that.

To be fair, a lot had happened, but it had mostly just been a frightening blur of ropes and rain and hard hands yanking him along. And being kidnapped by goblins could have been a fun adventure, back when he was a knight. But now, he was a king, shiny hat and all. And it was a bit more terrifying.

Taking a knight has certain expectations. Taking a king has. Well, larger expectations. Generally not good ones. A knight could get several hundred gold coins as ransom. A king had…more.

He’d been dragged into underground caves, presented to some large goblin in a silly hat in a silly chair, compared to a tiny illustrated king in an illustrated book the large goblin had been holding, and flung face first into this dark room. No explanations, no understanding, and no one to try and talk to.

He felt like he was going to lose his mind.

Thus, the book club. Which would probably be going better with a more conversational partner. But Newton was illuminating only in terms of bioluminescence, not scintillating dialogue.

A clatter and rattle and stomping outside caught his attention. He stumbled up and to the door, squinting into the shadows beyond. He hadn’t seen anyone besides salamanders for a while, so seeing a couple goblins bickering about cobwebs made for an entertaining view. Better than an unresponsive book club partner, anyway. 

From there, the story proceeded in the same way. Goblins, bored of their own chores, yanked a hapless young man from a locked room and ordered him to clean. To brush cobwebs away with a rag. And from there, the young man was a little freer to wander, to discover old friends locked in slimy darkness while a pack of goblins watched silently.

Finding and sharing food, slowly clearing goblin guards out of the way so he could free the villagers, one by one by one. Solving fairy tales for goblins, for frogs and peas and roses and coins to fill his pockets.

But also, the story started to twist.

Grandpa’s eyes glittered in the candlelight as he spoke about changes. New friends in new places. Different tools, different conversations. A new way to learn an old lesson.

Things changed in the goblin tunnels under King Graham’s narration. “Maybe not all for the better,” he warned. “I chose to tell a different story originally. This one might not be up to the same standards. It’s not been practiced or vetted. It’s about cut things. Lost things. Things I chose to remove.” But he told it anyway, and Gwendolyn curled under a blanket nearby, clutching a steaming mug filled with hot milk and honey and cinnamon, listening to the story unwind.

[bagelrites]

Her Ghost

Role-swapped Fem C!DNF: a continuation of this AU / a brief look into the effect George's betrayal has on Dream.

(Written for day two of Dreblr Spooky Week, based on the prompt "Echoes.")

She always comes in the night.

Something about the dark makes it easier for shapes to form in Dream’s eyes, for the real to swirl into the unreal. Her mind is untethered in the day, sunlight burning a headache into her temples, Sapnap’s worry fluttering over her like the tickle of wings against the snow when a hawk snatches up a rabbit. But at night—those long, sleepless nights—her exhaustion cements into insanity and the specters take shape.

She knows they are not real. She knows she is not real. Merely a hallucination. And yet, her heart aches for the figure to take on shape, take on weight and warmth, become something solid Dream can touch.

Become someone real Dream can love.

Tonight is no different. The sheets are too warm, tossed about Dream in her restlessness, tied in knots at the foot of the bed. A thin nightgown sticks to her sweating skin, lace curls around her thighs. Her hair, matted in the back, an orange cloud of yarn pressed into the pillow.

And the tapestry stares at her. Sapnap wants her to throw it away, says it’s not good for her, to sleep with her image at the end of her bed. But it is all Dream has left of the castle, of the days she wore the crown.

It is all the queen has left of her knight—save, of course, for the specters.

The embroidered knight blinks at her. The silver of her armor, shining threads pulled into tight angles, hands resting on a blue-tinged sword. Her helmet, resting on a stone in the foreground. A field of sunflowers behind her.

That was George’s idea. Subtle symbolism. Now, the yellow heads swirl, bobbing like froth on the waves. The white pattern of clouds in the sky above them, thick strands of wool woven into the cyan thread, snakes back and forth, hypnotizing. And the knight tilts her head, brown hair kissing her sharp chin.

“I’ve missed you, Dream,” she says.

“No. You’re not real.” Dream hides her face, draws her legs up, covering her stomach.

“I am real,” the knight says. She steps out of the tapestry, onto the wooden floor of Dream’s new bedroom. The curtains billow in a breeze that shouldn’t be there. It’s too cold in Kinoko Kingdom to sleep with the window open this time of year.

Dream parts her hands, sees the specter push the fabric aside, the curtains painting her body in new clothes. Armor is exchanged for a short, thin dress, the sweet, small curves of her swaying as he walks towards the bed, her body sensual, smooth, like the bulb of a tulip bud before it opens.

“I’m here, Dream. I’m always here. In you.” George reaches out and touches her. It’s a phantom feeling, a cold on her skin, pushing her legs away from her stomach, unraveling her. 

“You’re not,” Dream tells her. The cold hand is on her cheek, touch ghostly. “You’re far away. You’re gone. You left me.”

“How could I leave, when I’m always a part of you?” George leans down to kiss her. Dream shudders, breathing the specter in. Her lungs burn from the cold, her lips ache for warmth. George folds into her, becomes one with her, melts the chill into her bones. 

Dream shivers and cries out. There are tears on her cheeks and ice in her core. Her heart feels weak, like a thin tent blowing in the wind, stakes about to fail, fabric about to billow away and leave its inhabitants exposed to the blistering cold.

Her head is pounding. She cannot remember how many days, how many weeks, how many months it has been since George betrayed her. All she knows is she cannot sleep with her gone.

Nights are not for sleeping anymore. They are for ghosts. For echoes. For yearning, unyielded. 

…

Sapnap stops George in the hall with a tight hand on her wrist. George whirls around, her hair freshly cut, the edge sharp where it flares around her cheekbones.

“Why do you come?” Sapnap asks. “You’re torturing her.”

“It’s none of your business.” George wrenches her hand free.

“Yes it fucking is,” Sapnap growls. “You left her in my care. Kicking you the fuck out is taking care of her.”

“Oh, she doesn’t seem very well taken care of—”

A crack reverberates through the hall. George’s cheek burns and so does Sapnap’s palm, but neither moves to acknowledge it. George didn’t even turn her head.

“She’s still having visions. She can’t tell the difference between them and you,” Sapnap says. “And she can’t sleep. She never fucking sleeps.”

George is silent. If she regrets what she’s done, the state she’s put Dream in, she never says, but Sapnap knows. She knows her friend is too stubborn to admit the mistake she’s made. And worse, she knows Dream is too helplessly in love to ever blame her.

“I have to go,” George says. “We’re getting somewhere, with the egg. I think we have a way to kill it.”

Sapnap nods. It’s good news. This torture will only go on so much longer.

“This will be my last visit, until it’s over, I think.” George puts her hand on Sapnap’s shoulder, and her fingers are cold as ice. “Keep her safe, until I return.”

“I will,” Sapnap agrees through gritted teeth. “I promised.”

[go-go-devil]

The Fallen City of Yiithorn: A Relic's Reflection

You are asking much of my antediluvian mind to fully return to Yiithorn, you know.

Had you asked me for such a memory back when we first met I’d have raised Joyous to the clouds and harnessed all of her blade into my fingers as they ripped your flesh asunder. Oh how lucky you all were that I had forgotten my Lightning gesture! Ahahaha! Not that I would ever dream of harming you now, my friend. I only speak of the actions of an impulsive brute who no longer dwells in my soul anymore.

…No, I’m not stalling. I am merely texturizing my point!

Fine. Let’s start this now! So, this mechanized thing is actually recording my nostalgia? No no, I know what a recorder is! I’ve just never seen one this small. Recording technology back in my time, like everything else, was simply much bigger. So, what did the city look like, you asked?

Well, err, obviously it was big and white, or “colossal in structure and molded thoroughly with kaolin” as the younger beings say these days. Really it was but a massive tangle of skeletons from several larger species of beings before us caught in permanent battle on a large mountain plateau; ones that passed away permanently despite being made of clay like us hylics. The earliest Yiithornians sculpted over the bones and kept building upwards and inwards until a city was manifested.

That was during the very beginning of the Self-Actualizing Age, back when survival was far more fierce than even I could ever imagine! No being knew how to work the technology that scattered the landscape, so it would have made sense for the city’s structure to be as vast and confusing as can be conjured for its citizens to be able to hide from pillaging rogues and feral televisions. That was how it stood out from the more modernized platforms and towers of Amulom and Mocetul, and perhaps why it frightened many outsiders.

While the outside may have looked like a white mass of twisting chaos, the inside of the city was a haven for artists! I remember there being so many colorful sculptures decorating the shops and streets, painted murals along the walls that depicted increasingly outlandish tales the further one walked into the plazas, and the food! All you poor modern beings would quiver at the decadence of a perfectly air fried fajita! 

Makes me wish I had more time to spend amongst the commoners. Perhaps then I could have more memories of our culture to harvest from my mind before it all deteriorates…

Anyhow, if its weaker citizens were the blood of the city, then us dread knights were the antibodies! We were all trained in the very center of its skeleton walls, the Heart of Yiithorn, where we honed our skills in horrific battles amongst ferocious worms, captured invaders, and our own superior officers whilst avoiding impairment from the heart’s massive, wicked spines. No being could even join the dread knights unless they were to survive in the Heart for a solid day; that was how long my flesh and will lasted.

I do recall at one point my flimsy glove armor had been reduced to powder by all the blows I’d dealt, so I used my skull to bludgeon them all until I knocked myself into the Afterlife! Then, when I awoke on that subterranean beach, I leaped upon one of my fallen opponents and kept at it until I was reminded we were dead! Hahahahahaha! The captain had to let me join after that resourceful violence!

Ah, but this season is not to contain my personal memories as a dread knight… My soul is not yet ready to confront them all just yet. I hope you understand, my friend. Good. Let me steer this conversation back to the topic at hand.

Yiithorn’s doom was actualized the moment we declared war on Amulom. We knew the sages were too peaceful to ever harm our city if we started a war, but no dread knight could have predicted just how strategically defensive the Amulomians were. During the initial years battling it seemed as if we and our allies in Mocetul were getting close to a stalemate and begrudging truce with that saturated city, which I’m sure would have certainly occurred had Gibbulus not claimed the Hylemxylem. 

That moonmad mongrel! He certainly let his preference for Amulom be known, and the city’s chieftain had more than enough bribes and resources at the ready to help keep the tyrant in that organic palace. The war was heated up again after many decades of coldness from an actual attack from Amulom, something they’d never done to our city before. Lord Gibby had to have been the one to reignite it, just to get it over with I imagine. 

We were pushed back further and further. Even the risky move of completely annihilating their ally city of Muldul to cut down on their food manifestations barely helped us. Eventually we were the ones who had to hide in the defenses of our Great City, like in the very beginning. 

Then Mocetul's forces suddenly came to our aid unexpectedly, and no one suspected they had turned on us until after we had opened the gates...

Although I had seen the Fall of Yiithorn first-hand, I must admit that my guts still churned with horror when you first gilded my vessel back up to the mountain’s ruins. The bones, the thorns, the heart… none of that twisted splendor remained. All these new beings would ever see of my birth city were the gaudy remnants of statues, pipes, broken columns and other junk far removed from their original purpose.

……I have said all I need to say on these memories. Thank you for preserving them for me, Dedus. The sooner I can move on from that age, the better my being shall be.

Now, let’s quit dawdling and treat ourselves to the blackest coffee one can find! I’ve been dying to try that new blend!

[tiptapricot]

Moon KnightCember day 5: Cab-allero and/or Constellations

This one is the least edited so far, I gotta go to bed but still wanted to put something out, so it’s a bit rough n experimental, but hope y’all enjoy :-)

———

The road is very quiet at night. Drunks are the only ones who hail cabs after a certain point, and into the early morning, it’s just quiet and dark.

Now, Jake is used to that. For most of Khonshu’s service the night has been his home. It’s where he copes with what has to be done, where he makes sure there is safety in silver, and a hard wall to block the blood spatter. The night belongs to the Knight, to Caballero Luna.

Shit. That name always makes him smile. There aren’t many he’s introduced himself to but… kids come up with good titles when they’re able to live through an abduction. He doesn’t forget that. He won’t.

Most of the time, when the knight of the night is Jake, Marc somewhere safer, more solid, it’s clear cut business. Bandages as armor, crescents as his sword, some great dragon to slay for a happy ending, yadda yadda. But some of it… some of it is still his. Some of the time still belongs just to Jake. The moments between the page flip, on quiet streets, where the only fairy tale is whether he’ll hit another green.

Jake savors that time.

The night is silent, but the radio hums low. His finger taps on the wheel, his eyes glancing past his cap to the murky light polluted skies of London. A few stars still peek through, dull pinpricks, nothing like the sky of the desert or the open ocean, but he still likes them. Likes to make wishes if he’s feeling lucky, though he usually isn’t. But something in them makes him feel content. Orion’s Belt, muted in its shine, or the Big Dipper scooping through the clouds. They share that space with him, periods and punctuation, dotting what the eyes scan over.

Maybe one day those wishes will mean something, some starlight far and bright away paying forward an ever after, but he doesn’t really care too much. The roads are always long, after all, and his glovebox won’t run out of CDs anytime soon.

———

Check out the prompt list here!

[bunnidarling]

Art commissioned by me from total sweetheart @evaporatingvoid

Tusk and Horn

Except from Chapter 1: Origins

Half a dozen bodies lay strewn in various pieces and parts to either side of the road. The grass and gravel were soaked through and muddy with spilled blood. Most of it wasn’t his. Despite what looked like a victory, the half-orc was flanked on all sides by four remaining foes- a pair of tieflings, and a pair of either humans or elves. It was hard to tell for certain because of the heavy dark robes obscuring their faces. He had completely used up all of his potions, and he could only hope that if he survived the rest of this battle, he might find some kind of health concoction or scroll from one of the bodies. 

There were no clever quips or daring moves like the bards often tell. No honor or grace, just gritted teeth and grunting with the clash of steel. The half-orc had a solid head of height on all of his remaining opponents, but they wore him down. He dug deep into the stores of energy and strength he had remaining to swing a massive greatsword over his head, bringing it down on the tiefling before him. But he was too slow, the sword hitting the ground with a heavy clang that rattled his bones and left him exposed for the human at his side to rush in, shoving a dagger into his ribs. 

Fuck. That was bad . He was already in poor shape, but now blood was pouring from his side. How did they get between the layers of armor? How did… His mind was starting to get cloudy, his vision dark around the edges. Maybe he could knock the tiefling down and search them before the other three descended on him. He laughed a bit at that thought, the laugh turning into a sputtering cough. Somehow, he was still standing. He didn’t have the strength or speed left to swing his sword anew, so he let it drop, swaying on his feet. If he could just get close enough, he could… 

He unsheathed his dagger and lunged at the tiefling, who swiftly dodged his blade, catching him in the gut. They both fell, the dagger slashing beneath the tiefling’s throat. As their ichor bubbled from the wound, Grimm desperately searched their robes for a pocket or pouch that had some healing potion tucked away. “Fuck,” he muttered, going limp as his vision went dark. 

Suddenly, the bellowing clang of metal clashing against metal resounded in the half-orc’s ears, but on the verge of consciousness, as he was he could feel neither fear nor relief from its presence. What little strength he had left in him was just enough to alert him to its din- but that was all. The one who had caused it, on the other hand, was still full of zeal. Vigor and razor-sharp focus sprung from the pits of a youthful, tenacious soul currently driven purely by fiery hot rage. Rage sprung from seeing them here, out on the open road, disciples of the Lord of Lies driven out from the shadows for some foul reason or another, cowardly attacking what the interrupting knight assumed could only be an innocent traveler or mercenary. 

This man detested the cultists of Asmodeus with a burning passion, and he certainly had his reasons. Now, his silvery paladin’s armor with its gilded ornaments gleamed as if to defy the clouded skies above him as he came to this poor stranger’s aide. His halberd tore through the black and red fabrics of the assaulter’s robes, causing thick blackish blood to splatter from the wound splitting the tiefling’s abdomen wide open. They were his kin, but it mattered little. He never asked to be born into what he was. The remaining pair, humans or elves or whatever they were beneath their robes, yelled something he couldn’t make out to each other before swiftly fleeing the scene. The tiefling in the shining armor was left standing in the dirt and gore, confused, aggravated, and now saddled with the task of saving the man lying in the mud. 

The half-orc’s eyes opened slowly, his mind still clouded from his brush with death. Or was he already dead? No, you wouldn’t be in this much pain if you were truly dead, right? His vision focused on the figure leaning over him, haloed in light supplied by errant sunbeams streaking through the stormy cloud cover. The newly revealed sun glinted off of golden armor that was spattered with the same dark blood that was soaked into the ground he lay upon. That face. It was so handsome, far too pretty for a place like this, ethereal even. Maybe he wasn’t dead, but dying. Perhaps this was his guide to the afterlife? “Is it truly time?” he asked, his voice a deep, velvety rumble.

“Time?” The voice drifting into his ears from just afar was gentle but seemed somewhat bewildered. When the half-orc managed to catch another glimpse of his eyes, they were deep amber and as gentle as his tone. The paladin observed widened eyes on the fallen man, with slightly dilated pupils, which puzzled him. Perhaps the man was just being cautious. Yes, that must be it. How could he know he didn’t have foul intentions himself? “I’m afraid I’m not sure what you are talking about, but I am healing your wounds. Those bastards roughed you up pretty bad, I’m afraid. But please tell me, if you’re able to speak at all, are you affiliated with the Asmodeus cult? I want to know if I am wasting my magic here.” 

Get the whole chapter here:

[socialmediasocrates]

YOUR PRINCESS IS IN A DIFFERENT CASTLE: a wip intro

Genres: fairy tale retelling, fantasy, adventure, romance, new adult

Status: plotting

Tropes: Knight in Sour Armor, Earn Your Happy Ending, The Power of Love, Don't You Dare Pity Me!, Boy Meets Girl, Girl in the Tower, Be Careful What You Wish For

In short: Two unremarkable side characters try to rescue their love interests from a demon who doesn't even know who they are...oh, yeah, and save the storyscape, that, too.

Synopsis

The starborn is among the last of its kind, doomed to a lonely eternity in the Graveyard of the Stars...or it was. Until a kitchen runner accidentally summoned it and botched the entire ritual. Now the starborn is Aster, a pathetic little man with an equally pathetic little crush. Grappling with suddenly having humanity thrust upon it was not in the Design. Being a nameless filler character in a story it doesn't even know was not in the Design. Inheriting an infatuation with Theobroma Cirolla, a pastry chef with the temperament of a wet cat on a good day, was not in the Design. But the starborn is making a valiant effort at doing all of the above, all the way until the day one of his own kin devours his story, steals Theo away, and casts him into the broader storyscape.

Forced to join forces with shepherdess-turned-witch Beata, Aster strikes out to save Theo, go back to his quiet, unbothered existence, and save the fabric of reality, in that order. None of this was in the Design, but the Design is unraveling. Along with his last goddamn nerve.

Characters

ASTER

The food runner was squishy where he wasn't gangly and bony, unevenly freckled all over, the image of earnest mundanity. It takes the starborn a solid week to get used to using these clumsy, slow feet, and nearly a week longer to adapt to the surprising strength of the arms and upper back. It trips over Aster's uselessly long legs all too often, sending trays laden with foot and drink scattering, shattering, and splattering all over rugs that look expensive. Nobody even seems surprised by this. At least it's slotting itself neatly into Aster's life.

THEO

Aster had thought the pastry chef called "Theobroma Cirolla" or "Theo, unless you want a finger chopped off" was the most beautiful person he'd ever laid eyes on. This, unfortunately, colors the starborn's perception of her, too. She is small, even for a human. Soft, composed entirely of curved lines and circles. The hair that peaks out from beneath her scarves is densely curly and roughly the color of melted chocolate. Her eyes are big and brown and ringed with heavy, dark eyelashes, and her skin is always a little flushed from the ovens. She refuses to lift her chin to look him in the eye. She is always looking up at him through that screen of eyelashes, and she is always looking at him like he's a cockroach in her bread basket. And the entire time, it is endlessly, hopelessly charmed.

BEATA

He thinks that you would end up with someone that looks like her if you took a cloud, dipped it in gold glitter, and sculpted a person out of it. The mystery woman has puffy wheat-blonde hair and deeply tanned skin and, most crucially, a shepherd's crook that bleeds magic. It is nearly blinding to look at. He has to blink four times for his sight to clear enough to make her out again; by then, he's more or less determined to avoid her at all costs. She is perched on a fence, waving to get his attention, a welcoming smile edged with venom on her face and a feral sort of panic in the tension of her shoulders. He wants nothing to do with her. Because life is never about what he wants, though, she is directly in his path.

FAUST

Now, give a good think to what you would do in Faust's shoes. You made a deal with a demon because you wanted people to like you better. It blew up in your face. The demon is now threatening to unravel the fabric of reality and ascend to godhood, and you are being rescued at this exact moment. If you think that you'd be a little grateful, it's because you're not Faust. Faust grins one of those stupid grins. He holds up some twisted chunk of metal in his hand and opens his mouth to say something. He never gets to, though, because Beata throws her shoe at him.

[zeldaelmo]

Sneaky Snow Attack

Link shuffled his feet and listened absently to the scraping sound the boots made on the icy stone. A steady, cold waft blew in his face, annoyingly pricking his skin, but not enough to justify retreating to a more sheltered position under the arc of the castle behind him. He had to endure enough teasing from his fellow soldiers as it was, no need to give the impression he wasn't cut out for this anymore.

He flexed his hands.

A long minute later, he rolled his head, pushing his straying bangs back under the helmet.

Then, he yawned.

Great Goddess Hylia and the Holy Three, he had forgotten how dull guard duty was. He would never admit that out loud to anyone but her, but the position of Zelda's knight was so much more fun than this chore. Even though they had a rough start and her stubborn refusal to let him do his job gave him more than one headache (and mean comments), ever since they sorted that tiny misunderstanding out… She was entertaining, smart and talkative, whatever more could he wish for as a daily company? 

A twig snapped thirty feet away. Link shifted his weight and peeked in the direction of the bushes. 

A squirrel hopped off, shaking snow out of its bushy tail. 

Link allowed himself a moment of weakness and stretched his arms over his head. Hopefully, nobody had seen that. It sure was boring around here…

If only he could have gone with Zelda to the Royal Lab… But no, Zelda and Robbie insisted that they would work on something that was ‘top secret’. He was the Hero of Hyrule and head of Zelda’s guard! There were at least ten reasons he should have accompanied her! And if what he had put together from whispered conversations was true and they were working on a new weapon, then that would make for the most important reason of all. 

He. Was. The. Hero. 

What use was that stupid title if he didn’t have access to the best weapons? Robbie and Purah had no qualms about ‘borrowing’ the Master Sword for research and running weird experiments on it. The weapons that came from their research were… impractical because they nearly immediately broke, but at least they let him try them. Why the secrecy now? 

Uh, wait, had that been a snap, again? Another squirrel?

Link squinted his eyes, not moving a muscle. It was unlikely, but if there was an intruder, they needed to think they’d catch him off guard. 

A shadow glided from one tree to the other. Or had that been a cloud? The light of the setting sun was already dripping into a milky orange which made it hard to tell. The guardsmen to his left and right seemed unbothered.

He waited and waited, eyes sharp and ears twitching. Nothing. Hm.

A gust of wind blew hundreds of tiny ice crystals up from the harsh stone floor and plastered them on his face. He blinked them out of his lashes. Still nothing, but he wouldn't be fooled. From the corner of his eyes, he glanced again to his right and left. Everyone was on their post, good.

Splash! Chunks of snow broke from one of the trees, too big for another squirrel.

Enough.

Link moved his hand behind his back as slowly as he could, avoiding any unnecessary noise. A challenge with the heavy armor, but soon his fellow soldier to the right signed a quick set of hand gestures back.

Alright. Time to investigate. Sneaking was pointless in the heavy armor, but he still could pretend he was on a routine round. 

Whistling the Song of Storms, he casually walked down the stairs toward the batch of trees, feeling the eyes of the other guards on him.

Nothing moved.

Link frowned, slowing his steps. He stood directly in front of the tree in question and the bare branches clearly couldn't hide anyone larger than a bug. Was he seeing things? Maybe his ever-watchful eye as Zelda's appointed knight had tricked him. He had to re-learn to guard while actively spending time with someone instead of standing around but— Splash!

Something half-solid —icy— ran down his back, shocking him effectively. What the…!

Someone laughed behind him. Yiga. They were the only ones who had this disturbing habit. 

Hand, hilt, sword — the sacred blade rushed through the air so fast he didn't even think about it. Where were they? And why snowballs instead of arrows? Could he rely on the soldiers having his back?

Splash!

Another snowball, but this one got split in two by his blade. He raised his gaze to the attacker, grip firm and sword ready.

Blue eyes met vibrant green and he had never sheathed faster.

"Zelda!!!"

Her eyes flashed with mirth. He could imagine a glimpse of her wide grin under the shawl of her Sheikah Armor but then, another snowball flew in his direction and he had to dunk down. Oh, the little minx!

He rolled behind the next tree, landing half-gracefully on his feet again. He inhaled, short and repeatedly, and fought his heart rate down. Not a Yiga, calm down. A snowball fight. 

Splash, splash, splash!

The snowballs mostly hit the tree, but he still got wetter than he would have liked. Cursed armor. She was swift like a shadow and him? Clattering and rattling like a rusty guardian. Well, if she could play dirty and ambush him like that he wasn't beneath using the same tactic. 

He turned his back to her (a horrible combat decision, but acceptable in a snowball fight), and fiddled with his bow and quiver. He didn't dare to shoot without looking — a skill he had picked up from Revali — so he swirled around and aimed. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! Fire arrows rained down around her, melting the snow and cutting her off from her cold supplies. 

"Hey!" She laughed, throwing the remaining snowballs in his direction. "That's unfair!" 

"Is it?" He grinned, a dazzling arrowhead waiting knocked in his bow should she change places. "You tricked me into coming out here like a traitor!"

"Pfft," was all she had to say to that, but she let her last snowball speak. He saw it coming, but her aim was too good to get away. It flew into the little gap between his arms the bow left open and hit him directly in the chest. He huffed and shook like a stable dog, the snow falling only partly from his armor. Did the wind carry a chuckle?

They locked eyes, Link holding up the tip of his arrow and Zelda raising her hands. 

"Ok, ok, it's a draw!" She laughed and came over, pulling her shawl down.

He put the bow away, looking at her from under his lashes with a grin. "You had a good time at the lab, I assume?"

"The best." Swift hands dusted the snow off his chest plate. "But I missed you terribly, so I thought I'd surprise you."

"It's a bit risky to sneak around the castle in front of the guards, you know. I don't want to prick several arrowheads from your body because of a snowball fight gone awry."

She shrugged with a grin. "Don't be such a stick-in-the-mud. We both know you're too proficient to accidentally hurt me."

"Still—" He bit his tongue. They had a different understanding of her safety and it was pointless to argue again about that when they hadn't seen each other the whole day. "Okay, do you want me to accompany you for the rest of the day? I'll just organize a replacement for me."

"Yes." She beamed. "Actually, I have another surprise for you. It was meant as a Hylia's Day gift for you but I can't keep it under my hat for another week." A grin flashed over her face. "Or behind my back."

"Wait, what?" Link leaned closer, trying to get a glimpse of the thing wiggling behind her. What was that? A long stick-like tool with… claws towered over her shoulder. That was supposed to be a gift? Frankly, it didn't look like he would have a purpose for it. Or anyone for that matter. It wasn't even overly pretty or decorative, but he better kept that to himself until he knew what it was for. "Ok, um, yeah?"

He leaned back again, his stupid armor filling the silence that his comment left with a metallic clatter. She laughed it off.

"You have no idea what that is, right? It's the weapon Robbie and I worked on."

Oh, a weapon, of course. Now, the design made more sense. Not by a lot, but still. Tentatively, he reached for it but ultimately pulled back and cleared his throat. "I can wait a week if you prefer that."

"Nonsense! Happy early Hylia's Day, Link!"

She clasped his hands around the stick for him, snatched his shoulders, and pressed a big smooch on his icy cheek.

Link's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "Zelda! There are at least 15 soldiers stationed on this side of the castle and they are all watching!"

"Oops!" She giggled. "I couldn't help myself. And now try it! You have to fling it around, but be careful. It's a prototype."

Link blinked at her, still processing the kiss and the fact that they had been working on a gift for him. He curled his stiff fingers around the stick and stepped back from the trees, avoiding looking back at the castle arcades at all.

"Like this?" He flicked his wrist, expecting little effect, but suddenly the stick drifted, and the claws at the end swirled through the air. "Whoa!" He nearly dropped the thing.

"We call it guardian flail," Zelda explained and he wasn't sure if the lovestruck look in her eyes was for him or the weapon. He hoped both. He also hoped thirty feet was far away enough to blur it from sight.

"So it's Sheikah Tech? But it can't get corrupted like the guardians?"

"It's purely mechanical. You control it with your movement. Without you, it's as lifeless as a spear."

Link shifted his stance, swung the upper part of the flail, and wrapped the claw with the blue cord around a dead branch of a tree. A pull and the branch broke at its base, the cord coiling up again smoothly. With sparkling eyes, he turned to Zelda and smirked. "That's fun."

She matched his grin. "Thought so. I saw Robbie tinkering with it and immediately knew you would love it." She gestured to the wide fields in front of the castle. "We can train a bit with it if you want. The reports say there's a Bokoblin's camp not too far away." She tapped the belt on her hip. "I have the slate so I can be your backup in case anything goes wrong."

"Really? Zelda, you are the best." Link stole a glance back to the castle, took her hand, and pulled her behind a tree. "I love it. Thank you. It's perfect." He swallowed against the nervous tingling in his belly. "Like you." 

Her eyes shot open and she blushed, adorably illuminated by the blue glow of the flail. Clinging to a sudden bolt of courage, he swirled the claws at a safe distance from them, whirling up enough snow to give him cover, and kissed her cheek.

His courage sank, the flail swirled back, and her smile grew. "I'm happy that you like it. And don't bother with a gift for me��"

"I already have something," he interrupted her nervously. "Uh… I'm going to let the guards know they need a replacement." He took a step backward and then another. Did he just kiss her? She had kissed him first, so he hadn't overstepped. Right? She had looked quite pleased with the kiss, too, so surely it was alright. He wouldn't do it again, though, just in case. Only if she made a move first—

"Ahem."

Oh. He had nearly bumped into his fellow guardsman. Curious eyes glanced up and down, coming to a halt at his face.

Link cleared his throat. "Her Highness has returned from the Royal Lab and requires my company."

"I saw that, yes."

Link narrowed his eyes and ignored the slightly teasing undertone. "Please give note to the commander so that my position doesn't remain free. I trust that you are able to cover my absence until then?"

"Of course." The soldier hinted at a salute, his armor clinking. "Enjoy your evening, Captain."

Link saluted back, lingering. "It's my duty to ensure Her Highness's safety and one I don't take lightly on top of that. We're going to train, even if it's already nearly dark so that Calamity Ganon doesn't catch us unprepared and we'll take the opportunity to make Hyrule a safer place, soldier."

"Understood."

Link gave him a last scrutinizing look and turned, shaking his head on his way back. Just when he reached the stairs where Zelda played around with the guardian flail, the soldier shouted, "And don't forget to wipe the lipstick from your face before you report to the King tonight, Hero!"

Oh, great, of course, they had all seen them. His face burned. He would never hear the end of this in the barracks…

"What did he say? I couldn't quite hear it, the flail is rather loud."

"Nothing," Link reassured her and took the weapon from her. "He said absolutely nothing of importance."

"Well then! Let's be off!" And with that, she took his free arm and leaned her head on his shoulder plate. Hearing not one but at least six wolf-whistles from behind him, Link ducked his head and cringed.

Zelda giggled and beamed at him. "Oops. I guess I accidentally fed the rumor mill."

Link opened and closed his mouth, then his thoughts finally spilled out in one rushed breath. "Don't you mind that?"

She smiled, warm and breathtakingly, and pushed his bangs back under his helmet. "As long as there's a base to the rumors? Not at all."

Link chewed a moment on that. The talking had always been an annoyance to him, but maybe he had approached it the wrong way. Was this his chance to bring up a topic that had been lingering between them for months now? A question he had never dared to ask despite her hardly-hidden advances?

He rested his gloved hand on the one she had wrapped around his arm and cleared his throat. "I… I overheard someone in the barracks say that we're, well, courting."

"Oh?" She breathed a chuckle into the crisp winter air. "Are we now? I guess we better inform my father about that. He doesn't like learning news from the gossip mongers."

Link released a shaky breath. That was it? As easy as that? A little joke at the right time and he was courting the Princess of Hyrule?

“Okay? I mean, sounds like a solid plan to tell him, right? Not that he, you know…” He ran out of clever things to say, so he bit his tongue. Alright. Alright. He was courting. They were courting. Cool, good, very good. Perfect.

“Link?” She stopped them, leaning closer, closer, her face merely a breath away. “Do you know what that means?” Her gaze flickered to his lips and Link’s knees wobbled. She wouldn’t, would she? He closed his eyes, just in case. Her breath fanned over his lips, she could only be a hair’s breadth away. A featherlight brush tickled the thin skin of his lips when she spoke. It was happening. She would kiss him.

“It means… I’m allowed to prank you to my heart’s content,” she said, but instead of pressing her lips to his, she dunked something into the gap of his armor at his nape. 

A melting snowball trickled down his back, icy and overall unpleasant. 

Oh-o, no.

She would not get away with this! 

In one swift motion, he unfastened the guardian flail from his back, swirled, aimed, and wrapped the string around her waist. A hearty tug and she was back in his arm, eyes wide, half-amused, half-dumbfounded. 

“Two can play this game, Zelda,” he muttered, grinned broadly, and kissed her.

[xspilltheteapleasex]

Life Is In The Souls of Birds

A Poem by xspilltheteapleasex

My Main Masterlist

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶

My Poetry & Art Masterlist

A day as ordinary as any other can be full of beautiful and curious little things,

Moments that bring joy and peace like this one can be remembered for a lifetime,

But it only takes a second for things to change and fade away, no matter how hard you cling,

Everything will have its chance at life and its chance to pass at the right time.

Anyone can do anything, and anyone can take away the chance for something,

Maybe the chance at blossoming into a beautiful flower or the chance for dedication to commit,

Taking away a moment of joy and peace leading to destroying the beauty of life like a bombing,

So I think it would be best, yes, very much so,

It would be best if you put that back where you found it.

A little birdie with its black feathers sleek and smooth,

Glistening under the sun with little sparkles every time it turns his head,

The knight in shining armor adorning a vibrant red splotch with meaning of sleuth,

Jumping along the many tree branches of his mighty kingdom bred.

Birdies that twitter and flutter about with a song in their mouths,

All of this can be taking away if you steal their wings and souls,

No care in the world, they didn't ask for this, can you at least put them in the ground,

You shouldn’t be in charge of what jewels your body, for only God is at the controls.

Those many tree branches belong to a fortress of solitude,

A tree who upholds the very breath of every living thing we call life,

Weaving roots throughout the earth that no one can allude,

Whom some call home, a place to escape the fear of strife.

Billions upon billions of fortresses are destroyed each year,

No one gives another thought to saving their much needed lives,

Am I the only one seeing how our situation is this horrific and severe,

Can we not just follow the will our God gave us to abide?

Geese fly overhead of all the forest and under the misty clouds,

Loud as can be to announce their grateful presence,

They never break formation and they never stop making sound,

One day they will leave again, but I know they will once again show their luminescence.

Pillows are what I use to lower my head and have magnificent dreams of love,

Cushioning cotton or memory foam will do just fine for me to close my eyes,

So why do we need the best pillow that leave geese in cold blood,

God made these noble creatures for our kind to take care of with our hearts.

The wondrous lake is where the geese lay the wings and take a rest,

Making ever so little creases in this body of water and leaving behind traces of beautiful down,

Basking in the vigorous fountain of never ending droplets which it has expressed,

Our beautiful lake is my queen with a solid rim atop her head as a glorious crown.

Water is the something that every living thing needs in his temple of a body,

It provides an oasis for creatures and plants alike,

Yet we still feel the need to dump our garbage into the sea and turn it snotty,

Polluting the quality, which makes for a great realization of your throat being hit with a spike.

A rim holds place for little children to rest their little feet and have some fun and play,

Pitter-patter on the rim of rocks holding the foundation for centuries,

Just an excuse needed only for me to gaze upon such beauty of life, whom am I to say,

Rocks can be eroded with time, but etched forever are our wonderful memories.

Smoke and ashes rise above our children heads and strikes fear into their eyes,

Take care of your children and hold them tight as can be,

Your neighbor just started a fire that grows and grows as implied,

It started from his mouth but spread into the size of the northern sea.

My gaze is interrupted by an alarming siren warning of swiftness,

Quick must the siren's owner reach the fearful destination,

Praying with my hand and in my heart, with hope this lifts us,

God, oh please, please God, please help those of your own creation.

Taking the wings and soul of a little birdie is taking a life,

Chopping billions of trees is destroying the earth's fortress,

Starting fires in your mouths and littering them to the ground is the same as a thousand knives,

Can't you just stop for once, leave it, and support us?

Anyone can do anything, and anyone can take away the chance for something,

Maybe the chance at blossoming into a beautiful flower or the chance for dedication to commit,

Taking away a moment of joy and peace leading to destroying the beauty of life like a bombing,

So I think it would be best, yes, very much so,

It would be best if you put that back where you found it.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶

[amythystraine]

Tarot Flirts with Astrology

Aquarius ~ 10/Swords (reversed)

There’s nothing worse than being nailed to the wall, other than being pinned down and cornered to do something you were hoping to get out of, or being called out on the rug to explain yourself or your actions– and this last one is going to be a spine tingling adrenalin rush experience for some of you Aquarians. This is always a difficult card when it rears it’s ugly head, and for many of you, you didn’t see this coming (until now). The best thing about this card is that it’s reversed. Many of you are going to claw your way out of an unpleasant confrontation, or situation, and find solid footing once more. Kiss the ground when you get there, and make sure this doesn’t happen again, do what you have to do, change what you have to change.

Capricorn ~ King/Swords (reversed)

Something is left unsaid. Communication is not happening, and it has to be resolved before it’s too late. There are reasons and ways in which things that need to be said, may never be heard. Make sure you have no regrets. Don’t be afraid of sounding silly, don’t be afraid to face disagreement, don’t be afraid to be wrong, don’t gloat if you are right. The words lay like a choking parcel of food caught in the throat. Don’t swallow them. Open your mouth and set them free, along with your conscience, your soul, and your peace of mind.

Pisces ~ 3/Swords

Some of you may face heartbreak or disappointment. Lessons are learned, wounds will heal. Life will pick you back up and carry you forward on your path, mercilessly marching you towards new horizons and experiences and awakenings. What we learn from heartbreak, pain, and sorrow is that it’s not the end, but only a pivotal point on our journey. Be strong, ride the waves, wait out the storm. Calm seas and peace await once the clouds have parted.

Aries ~ The Tower

Many of you are going to be called upon to endure great changes and disruptions in your life. For some it may be connected to relationships and family, for others it could be jobs and careers, and for still others it will be something unique to you and your personal experience, earth-shattering, life-changing. Oh, how we fight major life transitions, kicking and screaming our way through the storm, even when we know that things will be better when we reach the other side. Many of you Aries will be put to the test, stretched beyond your limits, tried by fire, tempered like steel. This is where you find out how strong you really are.

Taurus ~ Temperance (reversed)

This card is all about balance in our lives, and since it’s standing on it’s head for you, there’s a problem in this area. Many of you may find yourselves feeling up in the air, either overwhelmed with work, or not getting enough hours; some of you may be experiencing unexpected upsets with health issues, which so often kicks our lives out of balance on a variety of levels. You’re like a cat right now, Taurus, in free-fall. You’re going to have to figure out what you have to do to turn yourself around so that you land on your feet.

Gemini ~ Knight/Cups (reversed)

For some Gemini, the Knight-in-Shining Armor fairytale is going to remain a myth. For some of you this may mean that you have unrealistic expectations, and if you don’t lower the bar to a more human level, no one is going to pass the test, no one is going to be quite good enough. Developing a successful relationship with someone means that you learn to accept their very human flaws (This doesn’t mean that we “settle” for losers, which is the flip side of this coin.). It means that human beings aren’t perfect, and everyone has their own little quirks; and if we meet someone and fall in love, you learn to accept the WHOLE person, quirks included.

Cancer ~ 7/Cups (reversed)

Many of you Cancers will be making very important decisions during this period, and some of you will not be facing all the facts and may even be colorizing your choices and decisions with rosy glasses and less than a solid grip on reality. Be sure to honestly look at all the questions in order to find all the answers. Study the choices and brutally asses whether you can make them work in the real world. In order to have a successful game plan, you have to have a logical and realistic course of action. Now, go for it, Cancer!

Leo ~ 4/Pentacles (reversed)

Many of you Leos may have issues coming up that you’ll find rather challenging during this period, and some of these issues will involve relinquishing control (a horror scenario for strong and independent Leo). You may also be faced with unexpected financial circumstances that require substantial payments, which means breaking into savings, which means parting with your dearly beloved and precious golden coins. I know, Leo, you lovingly tend your growing nest egg and having to slice it open and remove a chunk is going to be difficult and unpleasant. Never fear, once this issue is resolved, life will resume as before.

Virgo ~ The Moon (reversed)

You will find yourself surrounded by deception. Either someone isn’t being honest with you, or you are not being honest with yourself. Some Virgos might feel that they’ve entered the twilight zone. There’s a very thin line between reality and fantasy, and when you find yourself in an extremely stressful unpleasant situation, it can make recognizing this line very difficult, which can make it dangerous on a variety of levels. During this time, seek out individuals, spiritual practices, or professionals to help you find the answers you need. It’s not a sign of weakness to seek help making right decisions, or getting through traumatic or challenging circumstances.

Libra ~ Princess/Pentacles

Messages and answers to financial issues will be forthcoming in a very timely manner. Some of you Libras will discover previously unknown facts, or knowledge, that will benefit upcoming decisions and will also shed light on circumstances, or people, surrounding you. Knowledge is power, the more you have, the stronger you’ll be. There’s s solitary flair about many of you Libras, intent on personal self-discovery, with a renewed interest in old and unfinished projects. Make your own kind of magic during this period.

Scorpio ~ 6/Pentacles

“The more the merrier” will be your mantra at this time, Scorpio. Where before there was not enough, now you will have a surplus. However, don’t let your guard down, don’t waste precious time or opportunities that come your way. Continue this forward progression with right action, solid common sense, determination, and a strong work ethic. It’s time for many Scorpios to climb the ladder to success. We so often talk about setting goals, but we so seldom stop and relish the accomplishment of meeting those goals. Do this, Scorpio.

Sagittarius ~ Knight/Pentacles

For some of you Sagittarians bouncing merrily through this year, you’re going to find yourself stopped short by the need for quiet practicality. Solid common sense, thorough and slow thought processes to work through an issue, are going to assure your happiness continues through 2017. Don’t be rushed into making any decisions. Remember, the show can’t go on until you say it does. The wonderful grounding aspect of this Knight will bode you well, reconnecting you to Earth energy and the solidity you need at this time.

[As we all know, tarot readings are timeless. This series of zodiac readings was originally posted in July 2017... so how does your life wrap itself around them in 2023?]

[leiazher]

There were many foolish kings and queens in the world, and a greater amount of foolish knights serving them.

Snarl wasn't very creatively named, he wasn't creatively raised either, nor given any creative outlet. But he'd gazed at clouds and stars since he was allowed out of his mother's cave. He'd watched rivers, oceans, and lakes ever since he could fly. And when he'd flown far enough, and high enough, he watched the snow capped peaks of the mountains.

Humans didn't venture far north, and those who did seldom returned. It was the snow, the cold, the unforgiving tundra and glacier that took them, crevasses, and avalanches triggered by those who knew no better.

Snarl had learned to fly over the snow, silent as a shadow, to make sure he didn't disturb the precarious snow cover.

His parents hadn't been creative. That didn't mean he wasn't.

Flame was a dragon's breath, flame was defense and offense, flame was bright and flashy, as a dragon should be. It was the heat of the sun and the flow of lava from deep within.

But ice burned just as harshly. Ice could kill just as well. Snarl could breathe fire, of course he could. But fire was too warm before it felt like cold. Ice, snow, freezing rain, was cold long before it became scalding.

A dragon's nature was such that it'd twist to wherever they settled, infinitely adaptable and always perfectly suited for their environment. Snarl had settled in those snow capped peaks. He didn't bother with a cave to shelter him, he built his castle on his own. He didn't bother with gold for a hoard, no, he took what the mountain had claimed, and he turned it into creativity, into art.

The lost child who died before the wolves could get to her, the mother who'd gone searching and succumbed to the pack, now repaired with Snarl's ice. His halls were filled with corpses, frozen in their last moments, in respite, serenity. Stags and wolves and bears, hares and foxes and birds. And humans.

His halls were filled with art.

Sculptors did not only work in stone, after all. Ice could also be carved, and if the shape was already visible in the cold, the carving took less time, leaving more time to appreciate the result.

Snarl's hoard was one of dead things. Not death, no, he hadn't killed any of those creatures. He'd merely collected them, the mountain was still their icy grave, but rather than being preserved in the snow, they were given place of honor in Snarl's hoard.

The king did not see it that way. The king whose sorceress had scried on Snarl's lair.

Ill prepared knights started trying to reach him, and he collected those too. Their impractical armor, their too dull blades, all of it, encased in ice and frozen in time. They were beautiful.

Every piece in Snarl's hoard was beautiful, even the mauled and disfigured. They were all so beautiful.

It took years for the first knight to successfully reach Snarl's castle of ice, the poor man was nearly frozen solid, hypothermic and sluggish, and Snarl could offer him no lasting warmth, so he ushered him in, sat him down against a pillar and positioned him just so. Then he waited for the beautiful knight to die before he added him to his hoard.

He placed him next to the mother and child, they'd have made a good family if they'd lived in the right time and place. Alas.

Another knight came, this one with a page. Snarl let them into his castle, both of them too cold and tired to speak, and he said no word to them, he doubted they had anything interesting to say. He waited for the cold to claim them, and it did, as it always did, as it always would.

He placed them next to a majestic bear who'd never woken from hibernation.

The day came when a knight arrived, alive, warm, alive.

Snarl looked him over, he was wearing something that shielded him properly, and no useless armor to weigh him down and leech his warmth. Snarl purred as he cocked his head.

"Do you like it?" The knight asked. "It's inflammable." He smirked. Snarl turned his head to take a better look at the odd clothing. "Impressive." He allowed, because it was, it was genius. "It also renders me immune to the cold." The knight said haughtily. "That explains why you live." Snarl nodded, it was wise for the knight to shield himself against that which had taken so many lives.

"The king wants you dead, I aim to please." The knight said, ignoring Snarl's comment. "Will you fight, or will you lay down and die? You have no power here." The knight smiled wide, nasty, too sure of himself. "Mm, getting cocky is a sure way to get killed." Snarl said, he peeled his lips back in an imitation of a smile, and stood. "Dragons don't only breathe fire." He said. "Nor do they only breathe ice." Snarl smiled wide. "Some dragons don't need to breathe at all. And some dragons can breathe life."

-

Snarl hoarded art, he added to his hoard whenever he found a corpse on his mountain, he maintained it, cherished it, and if he wished it, he could bring it to life, bring it to his fang and claw and let it march in his name.

He collected lives lived, lives lost, he collected potential, heartache, joy, and all of what made the living live.

And one day, when his hoard was big enough, he'd call it down the mountain, and he'd take what was his, a kingdom, a crown, a queen.

He'd be revered, as was his due, he'd be worshiped, as was his right, and he'd be loved, as was his desire. He'd bring life back to all who'd been lost, and they would cherish him.

They all would.

They all would.

There was no doubt in Snarl's mind, he was strong, he was mighty, magnificent, and glorious. And he would be loved, by those who died, by those who lived, and by those who never stopped living. He'd breathe, and he'd be hailed a god. As was his purpose.

They'd see soon enough, that dragons didn't only rely on flame, or ice, or water. They'd see that nothing burned more fierce than survival.

“Foolish dragon!” Proclaimed the knight. “My armor renders me immune to your flames!” “Foolish knight!” Sneered the dragon. “Not all dragons spit fire!”

[infintasmal]

Jingliu - Body Study

Height : 5'11

Body Type : Very athletic but on the slender side, muscled with very little fat, straight waist, solid. Post sedition she lost a considerably amount of weight. She is still athletic but appears more willowy than before.

Hair : Blue toned pale gray, thin, waist length, side swept layered bangs. Usually worn half up, fully tied back in combat. Notes: head was shaved after surviving the Cangcheng due to burns. Cut her hair short Post Sedition but has not cut it since.

Face : Diamond face shape, low cheek bones, crimson, almond eyes, small nose, down turned mouth, fair cool toned skin

Scars : Skin is clearer than expected thanks to her healing factor, she does not scar by normal means. She does have faded burn scars across her torso and arms from the Cangcheng. Lacerations from the dragon abomination, claw and teeth marks on her arms and legs. Post sedition, her hands and forearms are perpetually frost bitten from use of her sword, skin appears 'frosty' with blueish gradient coloration, darkest at the tips of her fingers and palms, spreading to near white at the forearm. Similar effect on feet. She has decreased sensation in these parts. Claw marks around her eyes from trying to claw them out, succeeded a few times but the eyes grew back. Lips are often chapped or bitten.

Piercings : double lobes, earrings cannot be removed for extended time periods without the holes healing over.

Tattoos : None, unable to have tattoos due to healing factor.

Make up : None. Baiheng used to try.

Clothing style : Official Cloud Knight uniform. Preference for pants and light armor in active combat but wears the women's dress uniform and cape for official occasions. Post sedition she is seen in a stylized lunar themed dress. She is not picky about clothing and dresses for practicality in battle. Wears long gloves and ensures her midsection is covered to hide scars. Wears a blindfold Post Sedition to ease her hallucinations. Keeps her hair tied with a ribbon and is sometimes seen with a moon shaped silver hair piece. Favors blues and silvers. Clothes are lightly armored.

[hikeheroics]

Okay, here's the story in a captivating way, geared towards American hikers

The Trailblazer's Conundrum: MIRACOL 18L Hydration Pack, Hero or Hype?

Picture this: you're deep in Yosemite, sun beating down, legs pumping. Sweat stings your eyes, and your throat feels like sandpaper. But wait, you planned for this! Reaching for your trusty hydration pack, your heart sinks. It's the MIRACOL 18L, the one that promised all-day hydration and adventure-ready toughness. Yet, whispers of doubt cloud your mind. Will it hold up? Here's the thing, folks, the MIRACOL 18L is like a trusty trail companion – with a few quirks.

Built to Last (Almost): This pack boasts a rugged exterior, shrugging off scrapes like a seasoned hiker. It's got your back, literally, when it comes to durability – for a while. Some folks have mentioned seams getting a little frayed after serious mileage. So, while it's no lightweight champion, it can definitely handle the bumps and bruises of the trail.

Hydration Hero: Let's face it, staying hydrated is rule number one. The 2.5L bladder is your knight in shining armor, keeping that life-giving H2O nice and chilled for hours. Say goodbye to lukewarm water on those scorching climbs – this pack's got your thirst covered. However, some adventurers have noticed ice evaporates a little quicker than they'd like in extreme heat. A minor hitch, but worth keeping in mind.

Gear Guru or Gear Gremlin? This pack's got pockets galore – think compartments for snacks, sunscreen, that epic National Park map – you name it. Organization is key, and the MIRACOL delivers. But listen up, fellow trekkers – some folks have wished for more external attachment points. Imagine those trekking poles easily accessible, or your carabiner holding your water bottle within arm's reach. A small tweak that could make a big difference.

The Verdict: A Pack with Potential

Look, the MIRACOL 18L hydration pack is a solid contender, especially for those seeking a comfortable, feature-rich companion. Its large capacity, insulated bladder, and multiple pockets make it a great all-rounder. Just be mindful of potential seam wear and the limitations on external attachments. Hey, even the best packs have their quirks, right? So, weigh the pros and cons, consider your hiking style, and this MIRACOL might just be your perfect match for hitting the trails in style.

[5gcloudsoftware]

Unleashing the Power of 5G: Exploring Cutting-Edge Cloud Software Solutions

5G technology is revolutionizing the way we connect, communicate, and innovate in the digital age. With its promise of ultra-fast speeds, low latency, and massive connectivity, 5G is poised to unlock new possibilities for businesses and consumers alike. In this article, we delve into the cutting-edge world of 5G software solutions in the cloud, exploring how the convergence of 5G technology and cloud computing is reshaping the way we access, deploy, and manage applications and services. Let's unravel the transformative power of 5G and discover the endless opportunities it brings in the realm of cloud software solutions.

Evolution of Mobile Networks

From the days of waiting for your dial-up internet to screech its way into existence, we've come a long way in the realm of mobile networks. Enter 5G, the superhero of connectivity, here to make your browsing faster and your streaming smoother than a freshly buttered hot potato.

Key Features of 5G Technology

Picture this: you're streaming your favorite show in high definition while downloading the latest cat videos in a blink of an eye. That's the magic of 5G technology. With lightning-fast speeds, reduced latency, and massive connectivity, 5G is all set to revolutionize the way we interact with the digital world.

The Intersection of 5G and Cloud Software Solutions

Understanding Cloud Computing in the Context of 5G

Cloud computing is like having your own digital genie – it stores your data, runs your apps, and grants your wishes of accessibility from anywhere. Now, pair that with 5G, the speed demon of networks, and you've got a match made in tech heaven.

The Role of Edge Computing in 5G-Cloud Integration

Imagine Edge Computing as the wise old owl, perched at the edge of the forest, making split-second decisions on what data to process locally and what to send to the cloud. When 5G and Edge Computing join forces, they create a dynamic duo that ensures faster, more efficient data processing.

Key Features and Benefits of 5G Software in the Cloud

Low-Latency Communication Capabilities

You know that moment when you send a message and anxiously wait for the reply? 5G swoops in like a knight in shining armor, slashing that latency dragon to bits. With near-instantaneous communication, your data travels at the speed of thought.

Enhanced Security Protocols in 5G-Enabled Cloud Solutions

In a world where data breaches are scarier than a haunted house on Halloween, security is not just a luxury – it's a necessity. 5G-enabled cloud solutions come fortified with encryption, authentication, and virtual bodyguards to keep your data safe from the digital boogeymen.

Use Cases and Applications of 5G Software Solutions

IoT Deployment and Management with 5G in the Cloud

Internet of Things (IoT) devices are popping up faster than daisies in spring, and they need a solid network to bloom. Enter 5G in the cloud, providing the ultra-reliable, low-latency backbone for seamless IoT deployment and management like a digital green thumb.

Enhancing AR/VR Experiences through 5G-Cloud Integration

Augmented Reality (AR) and Virtual Reality (VR) are the cool kids in the classroom of tech trends, but they demand high-speed internet to shine. With 5G and cloud software holding hands, your AR/VR experiences will be smoother than a jazz saxophonist playing on a moonlit night.

There you have it – a whirlwind tour through the realms of 5G technology and cloud software solutions, where speed meets security and innovation dances with efficiency. With this dynamic duo leading the charge, the future of connectivity looks brighter than a shooting star in a midnight sky.

Challenges and Opportunities in Leveraging 5G for Cloud Software

So you've heard about 5G - the superhero of wireless technology promising lightning-fast speeds and unparalleled connectivity. But how do we harness this power for cloud software? Challenges and opportunities abound in this dynamic duo partnership. Stay tuned as we unravel the mysteries of leveraging 5G for cloud software!

Data Privacy and Compliance Considerations in 5G-Cloud Ecosystem

In the wild world of 5G and cloud software, data privacy and compliance are like Batman and Robin - essential partners in fighting cybercrime and ensuring ethical data practices. Navigating the complexities of data protection regulations while riding the 5G wave requires a strategic approach and a keen eye for compliance nuances. Holy data breaches, Batman!

Scalability and Interoperability Challenges in 5G Cloud Solutions

Picture this: 5G struts onto the cloud software scene with its flashy speed and futuristic capabilities, but can it play nice with existing systems? Scalability and interoperability challenges may lurk in the shadows, ready to thwart seamless integration. Fear not, brave cloud adventurers, for overcoming these challenges is key to unlocking the full potential of 5G cloud solutions!

Future Trends and Innovations in 5G-Enabled Cloud Solutions

Buckle up, tech enthusiasts, as we zoom into the future of 5G-enabled cloud solutions! From AI to network slicing, the possibilities are as endless as a bottomless buffet. Join us on this thrilling ride through the cutting-edge innovations that await in the realm of 5G and cloud software.

AI and Machine Learning Integration in 5G-Cloud Environments

Imagine a world where AI and machine learning seamlessly dance with 5G in the cloud. This dream team holds the key to unlocking intelligent, data-driven insights and revolutionizing user experiences. Get ready to witness the magic unfold as AI and 5G join forces to create a tech symphony for the ages!

Advancements in Network Slicing for Customized Cloud Services

Enter the realm of network slicing, where tailored cloud services reign supreme. With advancements in this cutting-edge technology, users can enjoy customized network configurations that cater to their unique needs. Say goodbye to cookie-cutter solutions and hello to a world where personalization is the name of the game in 5G-enabled cloud services!

In conclusion, the fusion of 5G technology and cloud software solutions heralds a new era of innovation, efficiency, and connectivity. As organizations harness the power of 5G in the cloud, they can unlock unprecedented levels of performance, scalability, and agility in their operations. By staying at the forefront of these advancements and embracing the possibilities they offer, businesses can pave the way for a future where seamless connectivity and cutting-edge applications drive success and growth. Embrace the potential of 5G-enabled cloud solutions and embark on a journey towards a more connected and dynamic digital landscape.

Original Sources: https://themediumblog.com/unleashing-the-power-of-5g-exploring-cutting-edge-cloud-software-solutions/

[artsysurvivor]

[Image ID: 16 digital drawings in small boxes with the character's names in the corner of each.

1st: Zebulin. Shown from the shoulders up, he has brown skin and blue cheetah-print "freckles" across his cheeks and nose. His irises are blue, but the whites of his eyes are turned black. He has black curly hair that is shoulder length, part of it up in a bun. He is wearing knight armor. There is a galaxy as a background.

2nd: The Black Knight. Shown from the shoulders up, this fella has his back turned against the camera but his head turned over his shoulder. He has a red goat's eye with a black sclera, the other eye covered in shadow. He also has red horns and grey ears of a goat, and the skin color is grey—he has no visible clothing. Eyes are staring at him from the red background.

3rd: Ant. Showing their full body, this cat with a thick tail has a smiling mask on their face. Its reflection, Tuna (its alter ego) is located beneath them. Tuna is outlined in white so it can be seen from the black background and only the bottom part of its body is shown. (The background on top is white).

4th: Remedy. This red-haired, green eyed, pale freckled girl is resting on a shoulder of her creation and against the cubed head. She has a yellow tattered dress with a tool belt around her waist. The sunrise is behind her. She is facing away from it.

5th: Jaiden and Yon. They are making a heart with both of their fingers. Jaiden has brown hair, glasses, and a green shirt. Yon has purple skin with oval shaped freckles and scars across his cheeks and nose, black clothing with fingerless gloves, long down-turned ears and black hair. His eyes are brown with a pink sclera. (Jaiden's eyes are not shown behind her glasses).

6th: Kyra. They look as if in a pool of blood. Their knees are pulled to their chest, their head looking up after, presumably, having it in their arms. They have a blue teary eye with three scars going down it, their long blonde messy hair covering up the other. They have tear stains on their cheeks. They have a thin band around their forehead and pointed long elf ears.

7th: Neon Nights. The pony has her back turned to the viewer, her head over her shoulder. A cotton-candy blue and purple dragon-like wing covers the majority of the upper half of her body (which is the only part shown). Her mane and tail are orange, pink, cotton-candy blue, and purple, her eyes are blue, and her skin is white. Only one hoof is showing, and it is pink with a pattern of small triangles, circles, plus-signs and squiggles right above it; The rest of the arm goes from white to purple. The background is black with faint patterns of swirls, more squiggles, and zig-zags.

8th: Mystic Light. A pony stepping forward through sunset reflected clouds. He has an overall purple body with wings, his fluffy legs going from purple, pink, to orange, then to yellow; the hoofs, though only one is visible, are solid orange. The nose, ears, and chest are pink. The inside of the wings also have a gradient starting at orange at the base and yellow towards the tips; the mane and tail have strands of hair the same colors. The eyes are yellow. His cutie mark is that of a crystal ball filled with a flame in front of a cloud and some sparkles.

9th: Searra. Shown from the belly up, her head in a side-view, she has one hand on her hip and the other holding a black sword, its blade reminiscent of a lightning bolt (half of it is cut off to fit in the square). She has red curly hair going down to the belly, pale skin, freckles on her cheeks, and dark brown eyes, a glint of light in it. She wears a reddish brown chitan (a tunic reminiscent of what the Greeks had worn), a golden, pointed in the middle “belt” wrapped around underneath her breasts. All the rest of her jewelry is also gold. Arm bands wrap around her upper arms, lined with turqoise pearls and the same colored diamond in the middle; purple circular gems are on either side of the diamond, and the same colored tear-drop shaped gem hands off the band. A “choker” has seven layers going around her neck. A head band, layered with gold feathers, rests at the front of her head. Finally, diamond shaped earrings dangle from her ears, a purple circle in the middle and a tear-drop-shaped, turqoise gem hanging off of it. The background looks like a desert with high pointed hills, the sun setting behind them and birds flying in the distance.

10th: Tiberious. A grey wolf stands in the corner with a party hat on, other wolves standing away from him, representing the “They don’t know [I’m a demon, in this case]” meme. The wolf-demon has four red eyes, and “stitches” going beyond the normal length of the wolf’s mouth.

11th: Clytes and Siyra. Siyra is laying back, his arms bent supporting him from completely laying down. Clytes is sitting down beside him, their arm over his body and resting on the ground. Clytes wears a white long sleeve shirt with a fold-over collar. Their blue eyes look into Siyra’s face, one of their white eyebrows raised. (They are smiling). The tips of their short hair is black. Siyra’s hair, on the other hand, is long and black, yellow and blue strands reflecting the sun and shadows. He is also wearing a long-sleeved shirt, but the collar stands straight up and is short, and the color is grey. His eyes are blacked out, and he has two long pointed ears on top of each other. His grey face has blue stripe markings coming from his jaw-line.A white seat band is around the top of his forehead.

12th: Amaris. She is cradling Dieron’s (OP’s dragon-born baldur gate oc) cheek as they wrap his arm around her. She is wearing a really low v-neck that is red, which matches the base of her horns (it turns to a darker red as the horns twist upward. She has a black sclera and red eyes, her long hair consisting of two braids is also black. She has freckles on her pale cheeks and a gold decorative chain at the front of her forehead. Dieron has two horns the same color as his skin, light red. They have yellow eyes. His short-sleeve shirt is majorly white with ref lined patterns on it. The hand that is wrapped around Amaris has a gold ring on it. The background is grey with red pillar-shaped bursts beside them, as well as sharp teeth above them.

13th: Haelan. Shown from the shoulders up, Haelan is smiling at the viewer in front of a nature background with a tree and green hills. This character has the nose, ears, and horns akin to a bull’s. They have light brown skin and darker brown hair, mostly cut short aside from the front portions which are shoulder length and have yellow beads on them. Their pearl necklace going around the collar of the white-turtle neck is the same color. (The beginnings of another, longer necklace rests underneath the original necklace. A brown cardigan is over top of the turtle neck. They have two gold earrings on each ear, as well as a nose piercing.

14th: Zebulin. The same character as the first square with the black curly hair and cheetah print, blue “freckles,” black sclera, and blue irises (with a hint of red). The “freckles” are also on the upper arm. One eye is closed, the other is looking down.The full body is not shown, but his knee, also having the cheetah-print is up slightly over his chest. He is naked and breathing something out of his mouth.

15th: Leon. Shown from the chest up, his shoulders are tilted towards the camera, his head tilted in the opposite direction. They are a humanoid boar with red eyes, a torn chest plate, and a red cloth wrapped around one upper arm, and a white bandage wrapped around the other.

16th: Siyra. He is sitting on the floor, his legs swept behind him and on red braced in front of him as he leans forward, hand on mouth. His hair is messier, part of it covering one eye. His brows are furrowed, and tears are streaming down his cheeks. He wears a vest, belt, brown pants, and along-sleeve shirt underneath the vest. His lower arms are wrapped around brown cloth. In front of him, although only a corner of it is shown, is a small box. The background is majorly red, with blue in the middle making a circle around his head and going beyond his body to the box. He has a red rim-light, and his clothes are dirty. /End ID]

Art Fight 2024 was really fun and I got to draw a lot of cool characters, here is a summary of it! Credits to all character owners under the cut.

Zebulin / @ragingadhd

The Black Knight / @marcfrenchie

ANT / branny on AF

Remedy / @artsysurvivor

Jaiden and Yon / @magic-swords-art

Kyra / @nemytthorleif

Neon Nights / pinkiepognie on AF

Mystic Light / @ragingadhd

Searra / @gaykingslayer

Tiberious / Wolf-kaisken on AF

Clytes and Siyra / @nineteen-rats

Amaris / pinkiepognie on AF

Haelan / @ghost-gathering

Leon / @firestarlight94

[scrawled-mumblings]

Life, After

When you die, the world keeps spinning. Time will keep going, and so will you. You can do anything you want when you die, and that's the beauty of it. You exist on another plane when you die, your soul frees itself and roams away up into the atmosphere, up past the thinnest wisps of carbon dioxide and out into the farthest reaches of the universe. The universe is vast and ever growing, but when you die you find the end.

If you like, when you die you can see your death. You can live it through your own body, through your mother’s, you father’s, your sister’s, or your brother’s bodies. It is too much for many. It will be sad. It will be hard. Most never want to see it. But maybe you will. Try not to be too sad now, it will ruin your eternity. You can watch your funeral when you die if you like, watch your friends and family cry and relive memories, watch them celebrate you, watch them mourn you. Perhaps they’ll feel you there, sense your soul. Perhaps it will give them peace, and you. You ought to watch your loved ones lay you to rest when you die, or scatter your ashes to the wind. That way you will truly be free. And it will help with the pain.

When you die you can experience anything and everything. You won’t be you, but you will be close. You can be Cleopatra when you die. You can be Joan of Arc, Caesar, Alexander the Great, one of King Arthur’s greatest knights, or even the king himself.  When you die you can be the leader of a great army, screaming war cries as your men behind you roar into battle. You have all of this leader’s skills because you have lived his life. You have trained with his father, with his brothers. You have sparred with his friends and grappled with his enemies. As you ride into battle on your great russet warhorse, your soldiers boom your name to the clouds and as you reach your first opponent you unseat him easily. Maybe you ram your sword through his helm; maybe you swing at his chest and cleave his armor in two. It depends on who you are when you die. Either way his blood coats your sword in crimson and its blade glints like red-hot coals in the late afternoon sun. Time blurs around you in a fog of blood and cries of victory and pain until you hear a horse’s scream, your horse’s scream, and you find yourself falling. You hit the ground and roll to your feet only to come face to face with a man sporting your enemy’s colors. Do you duel to the death with him? Does your fellow solider run him through from behind with a spear? It depends on who you are when you die. Either way, you fight your way through the ranks of the enemy until you find the one you have searched for, the one who you fought to destroy. Perhaps you will defeat him; perhaps he will defeat you. Anything can happen when you die.

You can even see the future when you die, if that is more interesting to you. You could see the Singularity occur. You could be the one that makes it possible. You could be the first person to ever experience it. You could wake up one morning and find that you were sharing your mind with something that wasn't you, something mechanical that someone else had put there. You could learn to live in tandem with it, learn to learn from it, merge with it, become something more than human. You could be what humanity was meant to be, you could be the key to humanity’s salvation. Or its destruction. It all depends on who you are when you die, and who else is in your head. You could also fight it, that voice in your head, tear it out of your skull, keep yourself all human, only human. Maybe you would miss that other presence in your head, that other voice that wasn't yours.

There are so many lives to live when you die, so many things that you don’t know, that maybe no one knows. These aren’t things that you find in history, not things that you find in nature. These are things that go on in the pages of someone’s imagination. You could finally find and read If on a winter’s night a traveller. You could meet Ludmilla and find the story together. You could enter the Library of Babel and find your way through each individual and infinite hexagon until you see the true meaning of the world. You could read each book, and learn everything the universe has to offer. You could fall forever past more knowledge than you could ever comprehend. You could walk the garden of forking paths and lose yourself only to become another self in another time. You could complete the manuscript that mapped a human’s relationship with time. What would you learn from these stories? When you die, would you finally know the purpose of your life? Would you know there was no purpose?

You have to make the most of death. When you die you learn everything, just not all at once. You can live as a tree when you die, reach your leaves up towards to sun and soak in the rays to grow stronger. You can feel as children clamber up your branches, laughing and ignoring the sap that sticks to their hands and clothes. You can stretch your roots towards the core of the earth and drink in its nutrients. When you are a tree you learn how to grow, learn how to find your way to the things you need to survive. You can live as a stone when you die and see life as it goes from trilobites to the highest evolution of humanity. You can watch as light slowly reaches you as a rushing river erodes your brothers and sisters away. When you die you can be the mountain that starts as the tallest on the world and finishes as the smallest speck of sand. You can feel the cold of the snow on your slopes when you die, feel the creatures that shiver in their burrows as they wait for spring, feel the soft footfalls of the beasts that still walk above the ice. When you are a stone you learn patience, that great virtue that lets you see everything pass you by, moment by moment, millennia by millennia.

If you could be any creature when you die, what would you choose? A wolf, perhaps? Beginning your new life as a mewling cub dependent on his mother, suckling milk until your eyes open and see winter’s final grasp slip away from the mountainside. You were once that mountainside. You hear the singing birds and the breathing of your sister, the soft noises your mother makes to reassure you; you see the dewdrops slip from pine needles onto wet loam, see the glint of an insect’s wings as it lands atop a budding flower. You grow quickly and soon leave to find your own pack, fighting battles to the death so that you can live. Your scars are badges of honor, but still ache when storms come, still throb with old pain on misty mornings. You’ll find a mate and live with her, rear pups with her, die long after she has. When you die you could be a bird, with wings to carry you up and away from the mountain where that wolf pup lived. You could soar on currents of wind and let them take you far away, far away to a place with open fields and lakes surrounded by rugged trees. The winds blow strongest in places like these, they coarse through the land and whip the grasses down into plaited mats that hide mice and shrews and insects. They blow across the water and make ripples that make ripples. Old birds are rare, and in this life you won’t be one. But when you die these deaths your flesh and bones will return to dirt and be food for some other life on its own journey. When you die you will live countless lives and die countless deaths.

You don’t have to stay on Earth when you die. There are so many things to see out there, like nebulae in every color imaginable. You might see one of the planets out there with life when you die. You could see gleaming cities made from crystal, spires cut from purple stone that rise into a deep blue sky littered with stars you have never seen before. You could see green oceans that wash against white grass beaches as cool wind blows through yellow leaves and animals with six legs and long black fur lap from the water with red tongues. You could see two suns set over mountains and the light of the moons that make enormous planets glow in the sky, their rings silver in the starlight. You could meet people of species you had never dreamed of when you die, people with translucent skin and bright spots of synapses firing all over their bodies, people with no eyes or ears but who can sing like nothing you have ever heard before. The universe is so large, so unbelievably large, but somewhere you could find a small rock, floating on its own, and just sit there. You could watch the birth and death of a galaxy. See the quadrillions of atoms forming trillions of life forms on billions of worlds. Does it make you feel small, seeing all of this when you die?

In the end, in the very end of your end when you’ve learned all that you can, when you die you can meet the gods. You can meet the Christian god, the Jewish god, the Muslim god, all the faces of the Hindu gods, and all the Buddhist Buddhas. But they are only the ones who have grown strong in recent centuries, grown and thrived on the worship of their disciples. There are others, there are gods who live in trees and rocks and mountains, gods who live in streams and oceans, gods who are incarnations of fire, earth, water, and air. When you die you could meet them all. You could speak to Zeus about his quarrels with Hera and Hades, about why he doomed Prometheus and the Greeks for seeking to be more like the gods. You could walk through a torii and up a hill to a tiny shrine and speak to the Kami of the hill. Maybe that Kami could tell you about the men who built the torii, about the people who had slept on that hill under the stars. You could dine in Valhalla with the All-Father Odin and Frigga and all the heroic souls brought there by the Valkyrie or walk with Skadi of the hunt beneath the branches of Yggdrasil as the nine realms glisten softly below. You could visit Loki in his cave where he lies bound until Ragnarok and ask him why he hates the Gods so much. You could hear the stories of the universe from the beings who have been there from the beginning and who have experienced more than you could imagine. No matter what you believed, when you die you will know that everything is true.

So don’t you see? Death can be a beginning, it doesn't have to be the end. It doesn't. Please, don't cry.

(December, 2019)