#the mortal the marine and the eldritch

[whispersinthedawn]

The Sand on your Shores (1)

The first Herakles learnt about his competitor was when he stopped a shepherd in the hills.

“Have you heard of the lion killing travellers and livestock?” he inquired without much hope for an answer.

If a giant lion were hunting animals in the hills of Nemea, why would a man without even a sword hanging from his belt bring his sheep out to graze?

As expected, the shepherd didn’t even pale or look around fearfully, the confidence of one assured of his safety his shield. “Oh, you’re too late,” the man exclaimed cheerfully. “Percy the Riptide already killed the Nemean Lion.”

“Who can tell me where –” Herakles began before the words registered.

What?

“Who is Percy?” Herakles demanded.

He knew of all the greatest heroes of the age, had fought beside or against most of them, and no mortal with the moniker of Riptide had ever crossed his notice.

Cold suspicion crept in. His first quest to wipe the sins of kin slaying off his hands, and the task had already been accomplished by someone else?

“Do you know where I can find him?” Herakles changed tracks.

The shepherd shook his head. “He stayed here for only a day before leaving. Even though we offered to shower him with riches, he refused all but food and water.”

The awe and appreciation in the shepherd’s voice irked Herakles, but he suppressed the rage that refused to depart for longer than a single interval of the sundial.

Herakles offered a curt nod and walked towards the closest village in the distance.

Arriving at Cleonae did nothing for his simmering temper. Everywhere he walked, and even when he stubbornly sat down on the lip of the fountain at the centre of town, people insisted on discussing nothing but Percy Jackson, the Riptide.

Herakles huffed out a frustrated breath, ran a whetstone against his sword, and pretended he wasn’t sweltering inside his bronze armour.

He was Herakles! The greatest of all heroes, the son of Zeus, the hero of Thebes, the son in law of –

Needless to say, Herakles wouldn’t allow dismissal to prevent him from carrying out his tasks. So what if the armour hung heavy on his shoulders? He could partake of the water from the fountain at his back to quench his thirst. If he felt hungry, he had fruits and dried meat in his pack. If he felt sleepy, the verdant hills of Nemea would provide soft grass to cushion his head.

He didn’t require a mortal to offer him shelter.

He sucked in a harsh breath before finally forcing himself to pay attention to the conversation around him. If the baker in his sweet-smelling shop, the carpenter hammering away at a scaffold, the village leader pontificating at the corner, the priestess tending to the flame of Hestia, the children running across the dusty streets, and every person in sight insisted upon discussing Percy, Herakles would listen.

Herakles would learn.

And if he didn’t like what he heard, he’d take care of the threat.

He rapidly ran into the first hurdle (if one disregarded the absence of the other demigod, whose presence would have put a hasty end to the problems indeed).      

No one could agree on what Percy, son of Jack looked like.

Some described him as a perfectly ordinary young man, if a little more charming and courageous than the baker’s son, and with an appetite to rival the village’s prized pig.

Others praised him as a son of the sea, with gills around his neck, scales across his shoulders, and webs connecting his digits. A little disorienting, but perfectly cordial once you’d poured ewers full of water over his head in offering.

And then there were the other reports.

A horror from the deepest crevices of the ocean, with ash-blonde hair that swayed in an unseen wind, dark eyes that consumed your thoughts and dreams and life until all you could do was cower in terror and hope they would pass you by, and crimson lips dripping with the blood of his victims. His footsteps cracked the ground, his passage wilted plants, and when the Nemean Lion scored a lucky hit, he bled golden ichor.

But everyone agreed on one thing – this Percy Jackson had arrived at Cleonae, killed the Nemean Lion, and walked out on his merry way, unconcerned about having deprived Herakles of an opportunity to fulfil Eurystheus’s command.

Herakles despised him. Him and his cloak made from the impenetrable fur of the Nemean Lion.

***

Next

Read on ao3.

This was written for the Temple of Apollo Reverse Big Bang, with the wonderful yagodnyizefir.

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

Tua but they all learnt about specific subjects more than others based on their powers.

Luther studied astronomy. Not really a power based thing, but he always loved space and Reginald always found that pleasing Luther strengthened his loyalty. So astronomy it was.

Diego studied marine biology. He can breathe underwater in the comics and… I just like that power (two of the other siblings can levitate shit so… I just want to give him something of his own). So he learns about fish and the ocean since, well, he’s gonna have to spend some time in the water, so it’ll help to know what stuff not to touch.

Allison studied literature, specifically rhetoric. Reginald preferred to reserve her powers until they were needed, so to teach her how to manipulate people using words was a handy skill.

Klaus studied anatomy and human biology. Also a bit of Thanatology. Speaking to the dead and persuading them to help was always easier when you can identify how they died and can try to reassure them that you’ll help them find closure as repayment. Plus, Klaus liked to dissect frogs and rodents and keeping him occupied was just easier for Reginald.

Five studied physics. He jumps through space and time, so studying how to do that more effectively is fun.

Ben studies mostly eldritch horror literature. He’s a gateway for eldritch beings into the mortal realm, so getting to know his little tummy buddies would help with bonding.

And Viktor obviously was taught to play violin.

[pjowasmy1stfandom]

AAAA THANK YOU!!!

Okay, so I have a WIP animatic for No Longer You that for some reason I can't put directly in here, so I'll tag you on that when I post it later (hopefully today)

I also have this piece: (I have a lot of thoughts about No Longer You that mainly consist of screaming incoherently and art ideas)

I also want to make an animatic about the lines from 'Survival': "My friend is dead, our foe is blind, the blood we shed, it never dies"

I also want to make something from some of the lines later on in that same song: "I am neither man nor mythical" bc if he's not a man and he's not a myth, he's a monster, which is a really neat foreshadow to Monster. Also the line "I am your darkest moment" and contrasting Odysseus saying that vs Poseidon saying that

In Luck Runs Out, Odysseus says that he took six hundred men to war and not one of them died there. So the fact that he lost all 600 of them on the way home... it gets my angst brain going

I love the line Odysseus says in 'Puppeteer': "Of course I'd like to leave now, of course I'd like to run, but I can hardly sleep now knowing everything we've done"

And pretty much everything in the Underworld Saga is art-inspiring, but I want to make stuff with Odysseus' line: "I keep thinking of the infant from that night" bc that's such a juicy line. And y'know, pretty much the whole song. And No Longer You. And Monster. Yeah...

I also want to write something about Monster bc Odysseus is essentially dehumanizing himself while humanizing his enemies and it's SOOO GOOD. Also the lines: "I lost my best friend, I lost my mentor, my mom, five hundred men gone, this can't go on."

And I have a whole AU inspired by this post from backpackingspace and my AU's basically just eldritch Odysseus bc he's practically been marinating in godly/monster/non-mortal energies for ten years, and that has consequences. The other men would have had some changes too but... y'know. They dead. So he's a special one (that can kill a man five different ways in two seconds)

I have a problem. I want to make so much art. I have in mind the art I want to make. I don't want to make so much art. I have homework I need to do. I want to get more sleep. I have classes today. I'm currently riding an Epic high and expect to be on it for the foreseeable future, especially bc a new album is coming out on Thursday. I have so many lyrics I can make art out of. Too many lyrics. I swear, I started at least one new piece of art, got maybe a third of a way through an animatic, AND started writing yet another WIP this weekend alone. But there's too many ideas in my head. I listen to the Epic albums so I don't get sick of a certain song from the album and then more ideas come from the lyrics and I'm trapped. It's a cycle. Send help (or interest in my WIPs bc I think I need some validation)

[windsweptinred]

Dream browses along Hobs bookshelf before coming to a stop at a weighty tome, black, embossed with gothic lettering and what appeared to be tenctacles...

Dream: I know this dreamer, I recall him well. Such a proud, small minded young man. Such disregard for those he considered beneath him. Yet a well of untapped potential. I oversaw his dreams personally for period.

Hob glances over his shoulder to see Dream holding his copy of the The Complete Works of H. P. LOVECRAFT.

Hob: You tormented Lovecraft? Ha, no wonder.... You certainly left your mark Duck.

Dream: He felt himself so tall, so grandiose. I showed him the cosmos, infinite, beyond mortal comprehension. So he could see how truly small and insignificant his was. His mortal mind near broke from it.

Hob: Well that explains his works.. A lot.

Dream: I remember he had a distinct abhorrence for marine life. I took the form of a giant, winged octopod often, some of my finest work. How he trembled at it...

Hob: Wait a minute, wait a minute. Back up! Do you mean to tell me you're Cthulhu!? Great old one, face tentacles!?

Dream:...?

One Day Later...

Dream: What is THAT Hob Gadling?!

Hob: (Holding a little black Cthulhu plushie.) Look, it's you! Look at your little wings! Aren't you just the cutest little eldritch nightmare?

Dream: 😑

(Dream inadvertently inspired the works of Lovecraft. But never saw them come to fruition and reach the heights of influence they did due to being imprisoned....And is also Cthulhu 😆)

[transmechanicus]

heylo, i am interested in 40k cuz it seems fun n cool but from what ive heard of lore its also really sad, why?

So 40k is set in the year 40,000 and for roughly 15,000 of those years beforehand humanity has been having a shit time. Starting in 25,000 Humanity’s galactic hyper advanced empire got tag-team destroyed by artificially intelligent war constructs, and the logistical dick kick of galaxy wide extradimensional storms. Said storms prevent FTL and cause extradimensional monsters to manifest by turning people inside out. These two things combined fractured mankind’s ability to maintain supply and communication between worlds, forcing each one to fend for itself against omnicidal robots, hostile aliens, and the usual results of regular food shipments abruptly stopping. This leads to ~5000 years of isolated planets fighting for their lives with various methods and tactics, many regressing culturally and technologically depending on their experiences, including Terra, what we call Earth.

After 5000 years the various Professional War Crime committers that ruled Terra were defeated by a superhuman called The Emperor who was better at war crimes than all the rest, unifying the planet under his generally benign but blatantly militaristic and totalitarian rule. This conquest is greatly aided by the use of indoctrinated children augmented into superhuman adults, known as Space Marines, or in certain cases Custodians. These warriors are divided into 20 legions, reflecting certain tactical dispositions, each led by one of the Emperors 20 sons. They expand their empire, known as the Imperium of Man, to encompass the solar system and beyond, supplied with weapons and warships by the technocratic cyborg priests of Mars, the primary preservers of mankind’s lost technological wonders. For 100 years the Emperor and his 20 18 sons commit varying levels of war crimes against the various alien or resistant human polities who refuse to die quietly or be annexed respectively. Then 9 of the sons decide they’re fed up with committing war crimes, so they rebel against the Emperor for their right to commit specific war crimes that make eldritch extradimensional hell gods happy. The resulting 7 year war kills 3 of the sons, mortally wounds the Emperor, and ruins literally everything good the Imperium might have had going for it.

The next 10,000 years sees the Imperium slide into increasingly intolerant and bloody totalitarian and religiously augmented fascism without the Emperor’s guidance. New and horrible aliens emerge to try their hand at exterminating mankind, and the remaining rebel forces continue to plague the broken empire in campaigns and massacres in the name of their dark gods. Such is the scale of the Imperium and the number of threats attacking it that subtlety is utterly unknown to it. Alien invasions are met with waves of bodies and ancient tanks, supported by the superhuman knights of the Space Marines and the city destroying God Engines of Mars’ Collegia Titanica. Internal revolts and rebellions against the Imperium’s brutal and oppressive regime are met with crackdowns, decimations, mass-lobotimization, and the literal scorched earth policy of Exterminatus. Though it does not know it for its records are fragmented and buried under entire worlds of thoughtless bureaucracy, the Imperium establishes itself as the cruelest and bloodiest regime humanity has ever or will ever see.

Every year the Imperium edges closer to its doom, battling furiously to reclaim worlds even as more fall into darkness. Rampaging Orks, sadistic Drukhari, and the rapacious hunger of the Hive Mind are but a fraction of the alien horrors vying for mankind’s destruction, and every year their conquests grow larger, and the Emperor’s armies are stretched thinner. On an ancient techno-arcane throne his undying corpse is preserved in its last moment of agonizing life, his soul guiding FTL travel and warding Terra against an invading army from the hell dimension. In the year 40,000 this last moment is slipping away, and it is certain mankind’s final years have arrived. Great bastions fall, champions are slain, and the innocent suffer as much under mankind’s rulers as under alien monsters and corrupted demigods. There will be no salvation, there is no chance of progress or hope for the future. There is only grim defiance of your foe, a drive to fight because there is nothing else left. In these last fading years is the story of Warhammer 40k told. In these final hours is the galaxy consumed in conflict. In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war, and the laughter of thirsting gods.

[windlion]

Malevolent podcast screamalong, Part 4!

When last we left off, I felt like I was watching a talk show where they pulled out the paternity test in front of the audience and then the screaming started.

Just. maybe more Ai Ai Ftaghn screaming here than high-octave outrage

Maybe.

Oh hey we're still hand in unlovable hand in the hell vacation world. "We"

Deeply fraught conversation time! On the black shore of a lake lit by violet like an off-color sunset. Where's my fanart at. You can put John in the reflection of the water, even!

"You found humanity" "I found the absence of you"

"I've changed, baby, you've got to believe me"

backed up by a "LET HIM TRY" *applauds* All right, that's compelling!

"Only the blood is still wet" "NEVERMIND THEN I'll be going!" "Yes that's probably for the best"

Huh, I guess Goth!Shelob fits in here, her camo isn't that bad after all

Arthur was a boyscout!

Is that, perhaps, an eye in the sky. Many different eyes in the sky.

And more of the visual fucking with John's perception

"Two appear before me" *That* is interesting~

"Here take this King in Yellow's egg surely it wouldn't be a bad thing"

Would you consider NOT pissing off the Angry Ent?

Arthur buddy you do not know when to shut up

Oooh skittery legs- rest of the Goth Shelobs?

Oh not Shelobs, Nightstalkers, cool cool cool

"Only when I'm out of options, same as anyone else" XD XD XD

Ohhh hey it was a duet on the piano

Awwww co-dependency

OH OKAY that changed topics rapidly

Has anyone considered using the MacGuffin y'know instead?!

Ohhhhhh please please please don't Not A Fan Of This

NOPE NOPE NOPE

bonding through sharing a little self-mutilation What the Actuuuual Fuck

NOPE NOPE NOPE

"I am here"

Ohhhhh that's a nope nope nope nope nope

That definitely uh, puts a spin on what the fuck the trader did. It traded.

Time to shift realms!

And now you remember the MacGuffin!

Arthur are you now wondering if you're being narcissistic "Is it you or just more of . . . me"

Arthur all "This is just temporary we're still going to split eventually" and John all "Mrrrrrrrrr" Sorry, John, you've had longer to get attached.

Are y'all gonna jump down the chute/hole just because it's in front of you, again

"Wonderful, let's leave" I am with you on that one!

"You know we don't HAVE to kill everything" *side-eyes*

*eyebrow raised* Y'all can't get five minutes without drama

This is part of why I would appreciate time-skips, because it would give time for things to marinate so it feels more natural

Are you sure that's a person and not a scarecrow

Or a kite???

Your charisma score is abysmal isn't it

Arthur my dude you are DEEPLY emotionally unbalanced

I like these guys, lichs are a lot less perturbing than anything else we've hit

Black Goat's minions are more polite than most

Okay Arthur made one charisma save, amazing!

"Are you ready?" "Unrelentingly" *SNORT*

Ahh plot threads at last

"You still need mortal things, right. Right?" ". . . Maybe"

I love that it's unsure if Arthur is just being a stubborn driven little shit or if he might actually be sliding even more sideways from human

And break before episode 15, because I should actually accomplish things today in addition to backseat driving this man's eldritch trashfire romance.

[katyahina]

Rom the Vacuous Spider is the perfect lifeform in this essay I will-

No, but seriously.

I spent like... okay, some time analyzing Kin/Great Ones lifeforms in Bloodborne, and I can't help but say that Rom is by far, at least in Bloodborne lore, the best creature to ascend from human kind!

Notice how most of Kin and Great Ones are all either marine-themed or spider-themed. I tried to understand the difference between the two, and I think I sorta got it? Basically, spider Kin/Great beings transcend limitations of their mortal body, whereas 'marine' Kin/Great beings transcend limitations of mentality (brain).

I've noticed that spider 'superiors' are more affiliated with Pthumerian era. Notice how Nightmare Apostles are found in both dungeons/mortal plane and Nightmare plane; whereas regular Nightmare Apostles are found in both planes and can be effortlessly summoned by bell-ringing women, Bloodborne Patches incarnate can just effortlessly travel between realms. Then, Amygdalas, other spider-resembling nonhumans, can transport the Hunter between Nightmare and mortal plane, too. And even more obscure situation - Mergo's Wet Nurse, who has eight spidery arms, doesn't bleed unlike other Kin and Great Ones (she only drops ash/feathers upon being hit), as well as create doubles of herself (like Queen Yharnam and Micolash do).

Basically, I think that 'spidery' superior lifeforms originate from pthumerians' idea of what it means to transcend humanity. Meanwhile, marine superior lifeforms originate from humans' ideas. Pthumerians decided that 'we are not in WHERE knowledge is, so we need to transport there', hence necromancy, ghost-like Bell-Ringing Women and overall transcendance of human body limitation. But humans decided that 'we don't need to move anywhere, we just need to change our brain so we can absorb Eldritch Truth no matter where we are'. I think that Mensis Scholars essentially picked off of Pthumerians ideas more, having dissociated themselves into a Nightmare Realm, to be WHERE knowledge is prior having ABILITY to consume said knowledge! ...Apparently, with only Micolash having his chill together enough to not transform into a slug upon all the knowledge he consumed, unlike other Mensis Scholars. Perhaps, he has more chill than we give him credit for? Or maybe he has no 'mind' to lose to begin with?

However, spider-ish life-forms, especially Nightmare Apostles, have shown a risk of losing their literal heads - many of them are JUST spiders, without a human head even. (I presume, losing one's head results in items like Madman Knowledge or Great One's Wisdom). Meanwhile, some marine life-forms have shown to lose their bodies - as shown with just-head Research Hall patients that became JUST heads and nothing else, even poor Adeline did so!

Rom though, lost neigher body nor head.

Basically, I think spider-like superior lifeforms reflect transcending bonds of being in the mortal plane physically, but marine lifeforms show being able to transcend past mortal plane mentally. Rom though? She lost neigher her body, nor her mind, so she indeed has a spider body and a bloated eyed head of a research hall patient. She lost neigher head OR body. The more I think about it, the more I agree that her being called an 'idiot' reflects her not realising tremendous power she possesses - she is able to transcend both physical AND mental plane, yet she does nothing with it but just chills in the lake. (Another Lovecraftian reference, after all).

So basically, she has perfect body (as a spider), AND a perfect mind (shown by her having head structure similar of a research hall patient, but with eyes present). Heck, she can teleport, which leaves her still presenting in the Byrgenwerth Lake a mystery.

My theory is that... Uh... Basically, if you hit her in the lake:

But if you hit her in the Dungeons?

Notice, that in the lake, her head bleeds grey - same as Ebrietas, Celestial Emissary and like, most of the Kin do! But in dungeons, her head bleeds normal red. So I think that implication here is that during the battle in the lake, you knock her conscious out. And indeed you find her again in Pthumerian Dungeons - where spiders are supposed to like to be! You also have Damian, a Mensis Scholar that helps you to initially defeat Rom who conceals ritual of his affiliated school, to help you with Ebrietas in both mortal plane and Isz Dungeons (which he is suspected to have prospected, given description of Loch Schield he has). Narratively it only makes sense if Ebrietas poses a risk of making Rom to return to the lake - and all things considered, Rom might just return to the 'volume of water' (aka Lake in her case) to keep in contact with Ebrietas, since 1) she can teleport and 2) Ebrietas mourns a body a lot like hers

Sooo... Yeah, I think, Rom is a very unique case. Spider body implies that she can travel planes effortlessly, bloated head + marine tails implies that her mind is elevated, yet nothing happens past that, hence why I think 'idiot/vacuous' title is applied. Though I would not put it past BB coded-era that Rom has fallen under ableism when she was still human herself, but again, it depends on what you want the story to be!

----------------------

* Game Theory time - I think that Rom having married Ebrietas had secured her becoming a Great One (same logic as when a peasant marrying royalty makes them a royal too). Despite her previously having been just a very long-lived 'Patient', who survived and even was a short-lasted Conductor of the Choir, by merely 'not thinking about it too hard' (inspiration for later, more vicious Choir scientists, to seek JUST children as opposed to 'people with intelligence of children', to communicate with Ebrietas). It is not like they had a shortage of church officials in the Choir to grant them that sort or cerimony, after all... In my interpretation, Rom was notorious for having ideas stupid enough that they might as well have worked! But since Great Ones are cursed to lose their children, same thing happened with Rom and Ebrietas - their child died even before it was formed, hence why Rom is surrounded by 'children of Rom' AND many celestial children are revealed after Red Moon - the child between Rom and Ebrietas has never gotten to be formed, so they 'replace' it with hollow (cord-less) coin-flip (either a little spider or little celestial child) replica of a child, not unlike how child of Queen Yharnam doesn't even HAVE a visible form. All - 'children of Rom' and cord-less celestial children in upper cathedral ward - are coinflip of their child. They all are just baby version of their parents, in coin-flip, all are a 'shrodinger child' trying to exist but doomed to same fate (since Ebrietas is essentially grown version of a celestial child, aka 'celestial adult'). After all, what's good about being a Great One, if you can't even get s simple happiness of having a family?

* This post is dated 05/10/21, but by this date (I might change my opinions later!) I think that after Rom had had her lethal pregnancy (curse of all Great Ones), Yurie figured it out and took Eye Cord from Rom, knowing that only Master Willem might have known what to do with such a thing. (I think that Yurie being called 'The last Scholar' implies that she's been original from Byrgenwerth which makes her 50+ years old... yet she can still kick ur ass, but what else is new in Bloodborne!). She travelled, with Fauxsefka presumably, into Byrgenwerth, in which Willem used cord to lure Rom into the lake (as suggested by description of Lunarium Key that he 'left a secret' in the lake), but for one reason or the other he refused to consume it himself. Said cord was useless, it could not granted Rom and Ebrietas their child back, yet Rom followed, out of foolish sentimentality alone.

* I also think that Fauxsefka, bein a knowledge-thirsty psychopath she is, resented Yurie being okay with helping to conceal Eldritch Truth from mortal and 'getting to known Master Willem from the start yet learning nothing from him'. She resented not getting to see the Truth, she took the cord Rom followed despite it being useless now, she wanted to go big - so she left, unleashing the Kin to prevent Yurie from stopping her. She was obsessed with turning others into Kin because just before transofmation, they had a small 'window' to share Eldritch Truth they've withnessed with her. She also was one known case of 'Insight Poisoning'. You know how if you consume too much of something - drugs, alcohol, medicine, whatever - your body might refuse to take it, so it throws it all out? I think similar thing happened with Fauxsefka - notice how after every victim you send to her, you get Insight upon merely talking to her? I think she ended up swallowing more Insight than her brain could diggest so she started to 'throw it up' - with culmination of it being her body rejecting a cord of Rom's born-dead child she once consumed.

* Basically, Fauxsefka became so woke that had it not been for Insigt to be important ingame currency, a person coulda gotten enough Insight to ascend just by sitting next to her. But also, she could take no more of it. Who knows what could she have accoplished if she took it at slower pace, after all?

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #180

Coming in fourth is Team Satisfaction H ∴ T ∴ E, led by Helena Blavatsky (Archer) and her Sanat Kumara Wheel! Since most of her goodies come from a generous loan via historic spirits, she’s a Lorehold Warlock for NYARF, the wheel itself, and the explosions that come with it. She also dips into Artillerist Artificer to dump some more tech into your gun and get a doll, as well as Fighter for a couple more spins on the barrel. That last bit is, admittedly, powerbuilding, but Helena made her new spirit origin with help from two of histories greatest inventive minds, so she did it first.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: The final racers: Team Prefect of Public Decency and Monk Sanzang!

Race and Background

Like we said in her first appearance, Helena’s a human. But she’s also really small and smart, so we’ll make her a Rock Gnome instead. This gives her +2 Charisma and +1 Intelligence, Darkvision to dunk on dumb human eyes, Gnome Cunning for advantage on all soft stat saves against magic, Artificer’s Lore which doubles your History proficiency when figuring out how items work, and lastly you can Tinker to create small clockwork items. The Clockwork Toy is a simple Colonel Olcott, but we’ll get fancier models as we go through the build.

She’s still a Cloistered Scholar, giving her proficiency with History and Arcana.

Ability Scores

This is exactly the same as her first time around, so if you want justifications just check that one out. From top to bottom: Intelligence, Charisma, Dexterity, Constitution, Wisdom, Strength.

Class Levels

1. Warlock 1: Now for something that’s actually new. Starting off as a warlock is not new, but the School of Lorehold you get your magic from certainly is. When you join the class, you get some extra Spells to complement the ones you can already cast using your Charisma, as well as an Ancient Companion. When you finish a short or long rest, you can shove a spirit into a medium statue nearby, creating one of three Ancient Companions: the Healer, the Sage, or the Warrior. You have to use your bonus action to command it in combat, otherwise it will just dodge. You can have one companion at a time, and you can heal existing companions by channeling magic into them as an action, spending a spell slot.

Warriors get extra AC and can throw themselves between allies and danger as a reaction thanks to Warrior’s Protection, adding a d4 to an ally’s strength or dexterity saving throw.

Sages give their Sage’s Counsel to nearby allies, adding +2 to all their intelligence and wisdom checks.

Healers can grant a Healer’s Light to a creature as an action, granting it temporary HP.

There’s also some abilities they all have, but this bit’s already running long, so check the character sheet for all the details.

Here’s another bit that’ll take ages, Pact Magic! It uses your Charisma, and it recharges on short rests. You get the cantrips Eldritch Blast for your big water cannon, as well as Blade Ward for a short lived Ultraman transformation, giving you resistance to physical damage. We’ll get better stuff later.

For first level spells, grab Expeditious Retreat to speed yourself up and Witch Bolt for a little electricity Tesla snuck into the design. You also get Sacred Flame and Comprehend Languages from being a lorehold mage. You’ll need a lot more fire for your NP, but it’s a start.

Finishing off this massive first level is your proficiencies. You get Wisdom and Charisma saves, as well as Religion to tell people the glory of the Mahatmas and Intimidation to help you break up fights between a modern thunder god and a man-sized lion.

2. Artificer 1: Bouncing over to artificer gets you Magical Tinkering, so you can slap a bunch of minor effects onto tiny objects. I’m sure a fantasy tape recorder in a feather will help your studies greatly.

You also get another Spell list, this time you cast and prepare your spells with your Intelligence. Also, while you are multiclassing here, pact magic and normal magic doesn’t mix your spell slots together, so just use the spell slots listed for each class at whatever level you are.

You get two cantrips, so grab Mending to patch up your wheel on the road (they don’t actually say you can heal an Ancient Companion with mending, but it’s a statue, I’m sure it’s fine.), as well as Light to spruce up your designs a bit. I’m pretty sure we made Tesla a human before, so that’d make him the only member of the team without darkvision. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.

As far as first level spells go, I’d make sure you pick up Longstrider. Making yourself faster is okay, but you should make your ride faster too.

3. Warlock 2: Moving back to warlock for a bit so you can get Eldritch Invocations, boons from your teammates for extra special powers. Armor of Shadows makes fighting in a bikini a slightly better idea thanks to your free casts of Mage Armor, making your AC 13 plus your dexterity modifier. You also get Agonizing Blast to up the pressure on NYARF, adding your charisma modifier to the damage of your eldritch blast.

It looks like your Sanat Kumara Wheel also comes with a bit of an automated defense system, or at least that’s the justification we’re using to justify grabbing Hellish Rebuke. Blast fire at people as a reaction if they hit you, it’s fun for the whole family!

4. Warlock 3: Third level warlocks get their pact boon. An obvious option here would be pact of the blade, but we’re already using eldritch blast for that one, so instead we’ll shore up your dolls with Pact of the Chain. Summon an imp, give it clockwork armor, there ya go.

To get your doll count up even higher, grab Flock of Familiars for some extra help, summoning up to three dolls (or two if you’ve already got one from Find Familiar). You can also blast down a door with Knock or stick a GPS chip on an item with Locate Object, both courtesy of the good people at Lorehold.

5. Warlock 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to become a Metamagic Adept, giving you two metamagic options and two sorcery points per long rest to use them with. I say you get two, but we’re really only here for Quickened Spell so you can cast eldritch blast as a bonus action. Since you also get a second beam per cast at level five, we just quadrupled your firepower in a single level. Not bad for a feat.

You also learn one more Edison goody attached to your wheel, Lightning Lure. Deals lightning damage, and drags enemies closer to the vehicle. It’s a shame it doesn’t last long enough to drag enemies around while you drive, but at that point I’m sure you can just use regular rope. On top of that, you learn Shatter for another kind of explosion to line your path as you run people over.

6. Artificer 2: Second level artificers can Infuse Items, up to two at a time. This adds major magical effects to existing items on your person, like Enhanced Arcane Focus making NYARF even deadlier with a +1 to its accuracy and damage, Homunculus Servant for another Olcott doll, Sending Stones to keep in touch with your pit crew, and a Bag of Holding just because it’s useful. You have to swap items between long rests, and you can only keep two in your head at any one time. I have no idea how this makes sense either, but it’s extra versatility, I guess?

7. Fighter 1: We’re dipping into fighter entirely for Action Surge, but we do get other stuff too. The Mariner fighting style gives you +1 to your armor when it’s not heavy, and you get a climbing and swimming speed to boot. You also get a Second Wind to heal yourself as a bonus action. It’s summer, make sure you take breaks so you can avoid heat syncope.

8. Fighter 2: Second level fighters get what we came for, Action Surge! Now you get a limitation free second action once per short rest, so you can shove three castings of Eldritch Blast into a single turn for six attacks. This is a little powerbuildy, but Helena did it first when she bought a gun from two genius-level inventors.

9. Artificer 3: NYARF’s getting pretty good, but if you want another kind of gun look no further than the Eldritch Cannon you get as part of being an Artillerist. This small or tiny guy takes an action to build, but afterwards, you can carry it in one hand for a sort of living gun. You can also just leave it on the ground and let it plod around. In either case, it’ll use your bonus action to command, and lasts 1 hour. It can be a Flamethrower, Force Ballista, or Protector, dealing fire damage, force damage, or temporary HP respectively.

You also get artillerist spells, like Shield and Thunderwave for more protection in an inappropriate combat outfit and more explosions for your NP.

You can always make The Right Tool for the Job over a short rest, creating a set of tools you need. They last until you make another set of tools.

10. Artificer 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Charisma for stronger and more accurate NYARF blasts.

11. Warlock 5: Fifth level warlocks get third level spells, like Tongues. You’re talking to ancient spirits from beyond our mortal ken, you’ll really want a translator, trust me. Speaking of, you also learn how to Speak with Dead and you can summon Spirit Guardians, all thanks to your Lorehold college grants. You also get an Eldritch Mind, giving you advantage on concentration saves.

In NYARF news, your Eldritch Blast deals three beams now for up to nine attacks in a single turn. This is why people don’t allow machine guns in their DND games.

12. Warlock 6: At sixth level, Lorehold Mages learn Lessons of the Past, giving you extra bonuses based on what version of the Sanat Kumara Wheel you’re riding. While you have a Healer bike, your HP maximum increases by your Warlock level, and you gain an extra 1d8 HP when you’re healed by a spell. If you’re riding a Sage, you get advantage on Arcana, History, Nature, and Religion checks, and once per turn you can add 1d8 force damage to a leveled spell. If you picked a Warrior, you can attack as part of your action if you cast a cantrip, and the attack deals an extra 1d8 radiant damage.

Finally, as an Archer class servant you gain some magic resistance thanks to Counterspell. You only have like, two third level spell slots, so don’t go too wild here.

13. Warlock 7: Seventh level warlocks get fourth level spells, like Dimension Door. Making an entrance has never been easier! Why awkwardly dismount your bike when you can teleport off instead? You can also create an Arcane Eye to keep an eye on your bike, and if it ever gets stolen you can use Stone Shape to make a new one, courtesy of Lorehold College.

Your last goody this level is the evocation Gift of the Ever-Living Ones, making your little bits of healing extra powerful. If your familiar is within 100 feet of you, any dice rolled to heal you always count as their maximum value for you. With any army of dolls grabbing drinks for you, your second winds are always pretty powerful.

14. Warlock 8: Use this ASI to become a bit more Resilient in your Dexterity saves. This bumps up your score by 1, and you get proficiency with dex saves. Somehow you can drive through a bunch of explosions and not die, so your dexterity saves have to be pretty good.

You also learn the spell Raulothim’s Psychic Lance to create a big shiny laser for your Ultraman reference.

15. Warlock 9: Ninth level warlocks get fifth level spells, like Contact Other Plane so you can finally talk to the Mahatma directly. You also get a Destructive Wave for one more explosive ride and Legend Lore. You’re a nerd, you know stuff. For your invocation, grab Repelling Blast to launch people backwards with the power of water!

16. Warlock 10: Tenth level Lorehold warlock is where things get extra spicy. Once per turn, Proficiency times per long rest, you can use your reaction to force a wisdom save against a creature you hit with an attack roll. If they fail, they become vulnerable to one damage type in that attack’s damage roll, doubling its damage until the end of its next turn. This includes the triggering attack.

This means, if you’re up against a particularly unwise opponent, there’s a pretty good chance you can double all those eldritch blast attacks, effectively attacking 18 times in a single turn. And it only gets sillier next level.

You also learn True Strike. I hope you’re aiming that thing, at least...

17. Warlock 11: Eleventh level warlocks get a Mystic Arcanum. Instead of letting you cast a sixth level spell each short rest, you get this, which limits you to casting a sixth level spell once per long rest without using a slot.

Conjure Fey lets you bring the Mahatmas back to earth with you, bringing in a Fey or Beast creature of CR 6 or lower for up to an hour. If you lose concentration though, it’ll be hostile and might attack you. Meddling with forces beyond your control isn’t a great strategy.

18. Warlock 12: Use your last ASI to bump up your Charisma for a bigger NYARF. Your watergun also makes your enemies all soggy and gross thanks to becoming a Lance of Lethargy, slowing them down once a turn. I mean you’re using eldritch blast anyways, might as well make it fancy.

19. Warlock 13: Your first and last seventh level Mystic Arcanum is going towards Crown of Stars for some long turn explosive fun. For an hour after casting,you can use a bonus action to throw small stars at enemies, dealing radiant damage on a hit.

20. Warlock 14: Your capstone level tunes you into History’s Whims, which kind of turns you into Ultraman. For up to a minute after you start it as a bonus action, you can pick one of three benefits to last until your next turn, as long as you don’t pick the same one twice in a row.

You can gain some Luck, adding a d6 to all incoming saving throws against damage for the round, Resistance for resistance to physical attacks, or Swiftness for more movement speed and no opportunity attacks.

You can transform yourself this way once per long rest, or by spending a fourth level spell slot.

Pros:

Remember how we were all “Sanson can do sooo much damage” when he got vulnerability strats, even if they were super awkward? Yeah, Helena’s Eldritch Blasts blow him out of the water, and they’re way easier to use. With twelve eldritch blasts in a single turn from Action Surge and Quickened Spell, plus vulnerability from War Echoes, Helena can pump out 2*(12d10+60) Force damage in a single turn, assuming all hit. (with an enhanced arcane focus that jumps to 2*(12d10+72)) On the low end, that’s 144 damage, which can down or seriously injure most builds. On the upper end, that’s over 360 damage, enough to take down a max constitution barbarian with the tough feat in a single turn. And the best part is, if they make their save you can just hold off on everything else for a round, you don’t have to commit unless it’ll work. It really is NYARF or nothing.

While we have made plenty of builds recently that ride around on stuff, but yours is the only one where your ride doubles as a built-in medic. With a healer Ancient Companion, your HP gets bumped up to a more reasonable amount, and it can heal you with your bonus action every turn. And if you’re fine, it can help out party members as well.

Speaking of, as an Artificer you can make plenty of gifts for your party as well, ranging from little trinkets to magical items for stronger attacks. On top of that, your bevy of familiars can be handed out to party members so you’re always within range if they need some healing.

Cons:

A lot of your stuff requires your bonus action to use; You can use your eldritch cannon for more damage without spending sorcery points, your Second Wind for healing, or your Ancient Companion to move around and provide support, but you can’t do all of those at the same time.

Since almost all of your magic is coming from your warlock levels, you don’t have many spells ready at any one time. You have three 1st level slots from Artfiicer, three 5th level slots from Warlock, and two Mystic Arcanums. Similarly, you can only really go ham with NYARF once a day. I’m not saying you can’t make a serious impact with what you’ve got, I’m just saying you’ll have to be careful with how you use it.

Without your ride you’re pretty Squishy, with slightly over 100 HP and an AC of 16. Normally that wouldn’t be that much of a problem for a mobility focused spellcaster, but destroying a boss in one round tends to draw a lot of attention. Be ready for that.

[askmalal]

10,000 years before the Emperor revealed himself to mankind, a humanoid Xenos species dominated an expanse of worlds just beyond the periphery of the Ghoul Stars. 

Their names are unimportant. Forgotten by history, wiped clean by the hand of a an angry god.

They made great strives in the arts, technology, social reform. Their towers, made of scintillating glass, stretched heavenward. Their great bronze cities covered whole continents, surrounded by the vast expanses of green arcologies.

Their technologies are forgotten. Their arts have been destroyed. Their towers have been thrown down, never to touch the heavens again. Their great bronze cities atomized, their arcologies burned, by their own hands.

Then came a time of great conflict. When the last cornerstone had been laid, when the last hold out had been conquered. When the greatest revelations in technology seemed but a generation away, they fell to fighting. 

There were those who believed that “faith” was a weakness. That belief in anything that could not be proven with empirical evidence or seen with the naked eye was inherently false. Science was their deity, the laboratory their altar. Morals were merely convenient evolutionary tools, they said. 

And then there were others. They came to reject all learning as inherently flawed, for it came from mortal minds. They rejected science, for it seemed to them a blasphemy. When the great thinkers proved one theory or published another, they turned their backs. Such was falsehood, they claimed, planted by those who wished to steal away their faith. At best, such discoveries were red herrings, false relics and data left behind by the gods as a means of testing their faith.

And the great civilization that dwelt there, amongst the ghoul stars, began to tear itself apart.

Then came a prophet. Her deeds are legendary, though her name is forgotten. She brought them the Truth. She brought them Malal. The “great thinkers” were chastened for their intolerance. The “fanatic believers” were chastened for their ignorance. And for a time, harmony was achieved.

When the prophet passed into the world beyond life, the society she had worked so hard to reform began to crumble. False prophets led them astray. Well meaning zealots tried to educate the masses, but their words were misinterpreted. Those who remained among His most faithful said to themselves, “The time is coming for the Great Rebirth. His Will must be done. These are the signs. This is the place. The end time is nigh.”

And others among the faithful said, “No, no! It is not within our ken to know the time or the hour! The time will come when it comes! You cannot manipulate the gods!”

But those who believed most fiercely in their broken ideas, led by the self-aggrandizing prophets, saw to it that the end times came. One by one the cities blinked out. The cities burned. The wine dark seas boiled away. And silence crept over the words of these once noble people.

And those who remained said to themselves,  “See His Theophany, burning brightly in the heavens! We will be rewarded. He will be pleased!”

But Malal was not.

It is not given unto mortal men and women to decide when the time comes. 

But Malal was not.

The needless sacrifice of His children is anathaema.

But Malal was not.

For many innocents, those who opposed this course of action, died alongside the faithful in those flames of arrogance.

And Wolf-Headed God, the Faceless Sphinx, the Dragon in Ebony, roared his anger so loudly that they say his thunders still skirt the Ghoul Stars, things of absolute hate that spread like tendrils of entropy across those much blighted worlds.

Now, the souls of those nameless people, He divided in twain. Those who had been innocent, those who had no hand in what came to pass, were given their reward. 

But for those who had taken part, those who had thought to enact His will without His writ, he cursed. “I have cast you into the heavens, upon the tides of the warp. And there you will serve me, in the great bronze catacomb ships of your own making. Until each has paid her debt.”

And they still travel those tides today. Every so often, one of their number is slain and does not return: his cosmic debt repaid, His forgiveness earned. But they are billions, and His wrath is not easily lessened. Many will dwell there, upon ceaseless tides, until the end times have come. And when they have come to pass, and the Rebirth is brought about, there too they will continue to dwell. Until all debts are paid. Until all sins are forgiven.

Until that time, they are His. They are His alone. The eldritch things that once were men and women inhabiting the very artifice that once made them mighty. In ships of patinaed bronze. In suits of patinaed bronze. In silent service. In constant terror. In a state of perpetual living death.

His Will Be Done.

Should His Void Mariners come to collect you, pray to your gods. For you shall receive no respite from mine.

- Words of the “Mad” Magos of Gehenna, M32

[whispersinthedawn]

The Sand on your Shores (2)

There was nothing quite like being spat out of the Sea of Chaos to drive home just how annoying you could be. Then again, Percy reflected, when your opponent was Gaea, perhaps being a pest too annoying to countenance was what you ought to aim for.

It would prove terrible for your continued good health though, as the steadily growing ache in his chest indicated.

Percy couldn’t quite bring himself to open his eyes. Any second, the grass stinging his hands would trap him in verdant loops, the pebbles under his back would burrow into his body, and the thick loam all around engulf him in its constricting embrace.

He sucked in a reluctant breath.

The air taste weird. A strange thing to fixate upon when he'd just brought about the end of the world, but Percy couldn't take his mind off it.

The air smelled weird too, but the stink radiating off his own body made it impossible to catalogue his surroundings.

And the pain – couldn't forget the pain even if it had become a regular companion. A splitting, shrieking agony as exposed nerves and sinew screamed at being so summarily cleaved from the protection of the rest of his body.

He didn’t want to look at it.

Didn’t want to think about it.

So … the air. That tasted strange.

He couldn't quite identify why. There was a certain lightness to the air, a distinctly pastoral sweet pollen and sharp grass, mixed with the wet mud of just rained upon land. But the absence of tangy pine needles and gritty exhaust shouldn't have struck him as strange as the glass shore of the Cocytus.

It was reality – just a step to the left.

The reminder that there were directions other than straight on top of a rock galvanized his head into lolling to the side.

Percy's head tipped to the left.

Glistening black eyes without a hint of sclera stared back at him.

Percy flinched.

Before forcing himself to take a closer look.

A thin yellow ring of skin encircled fishlike eyes that seemed to take up half the face.

A face that stared back at him like a distorted reflection, like his bathroom mirror had malfunctioned and silver shimmered to craft an illusion of a twin not quite right.

“You look just like me,” the doppelganger whispered, flashing sharp fangs that must have been sheathed into the top of his skull to have any hopes of not slicing his own mouth into pieces.

“You … don’t,” Percy mumbled back.

He couldn’t deny a certain similarity to the facial structure, couldn’t deny that they shared the same bend in the bridge of their noses, the same dip in their chin that didn’t quite reach a cleft, certainly couldn’t deny the matted black hair that shone with blue highlights underneath the Mediterranean Sun.

But he had never sported odd, defined scars along his neck that reminded him of nothing but a fish’s gills, had never exhibited gossamer filaments growing from between his shoulder blades in a pale mimicry of a backfin.        

“Who’re you?” the fish person demanded, flailing but failing to push himself into a sitting position.

“Percy,” Percy replied. “Percy–”

“Jackson,” the other finished in a horrified whisper.

His own name shouldn’t have struck such unnamed horror into his being.

“But I’m Percy Jackson,” the half-fish person refuted intensely.

“You can’t be,” Percy rejected instantly. “I’m–” he broke off.

What had been the last thing he’d undergone, what was the cause of the torn, weeping, gaping wound in his self? His every fibre throbbed like it had been stripped of something indelibly crucial.

Fingers trembling only partially with exertion, Percy reached out and touched the blue half-moon protrusions covering the fish-person’s naked chest.

Bliss.

Just for a moment, the pain disappeared.

Just for a second, one that ended much too soon, Percy felt whole.

The person on the other side of his hand flinched back.

The ecstasy faded back into the ever-present agony of existing, made all the more excruciating from the momentary relief.

Sea green stared into nocturnal black.

“We’re both Percy,” the other person voiced the conclusion Percy couldn’t quite prevent himself from reaching.

Percy shuddered.

Split in two, on land distinctly different from his memories, with a Sun indecipherably brighter, in a climate without the markers of industrial pollution Percy had never lived without – it jogged memories he’d done his best to bury inside the room with the glass mirror.

The room that might have slipped at containing the poison-manipulating tormentor of Akhlys, but which would certainly hold memories at bay.

The room with its glass fragments and a gaping void where there should have been a maelstrom of power.

Screaming. The very Earth was screaming. Roiling, cracking, burning. Every single second the inferno in the sky continued blazing, was accompanied by another mighty heave of the land.

Earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, avalanches, landslides.

Toppled civilizations.

Dust rose in the distance in a great cloud as Gaea’s dying spasms destroyed skyscrapers and laid mountains low.

Percy … Percy was the son of the Earthshaker. Son of the Lord of the Sea.

As Jason, Leo, and Piper fought to kill Gaea, Percy shattered the boundaries within himself, until his body burnt with the power flooding through every single blood vessel of him, until fragile flesh burst in star-blooms.

Grip the earth, hold the ocean still, calm the magma bubbling below the crust.

“No, I won’t die. You can’t kill me!” Gaea shrieked with the eruptions of a thousand geysers.

Percy tightened his grip as the very land rolled over onto itself in an effort to stomp out flames fuelled by human life.

Grimly determined, Percy tightened his hold on every domain his father would allow him access to and refused to give an inch.

“You would defy me?” Gaea shrieked. “You can’t. I am Chaosdaughter, the first primordial. I am Earth. I have been and always must be. You can’t stop me.”

“I already have,” Percy thought back at the goddess and restrained yet another twitch that threatened to send the Eastern Seaboard under.

He refused to think of the broken bodies at camp, the snap of bone that had reverberated in his ears, the blank stare that should have never entered those grey eyes.

Annabeth …

“No, you haven’t,” Gaea whispered back.

Something punched through him. Percy looked down, not particularly surprised to see the spear-shaped rock impaling him.

He didn’t let Gaea go.

Gaea writhed, twisted the ground and the sky and the very fabric of reality itself.

Like sand struggled to capture water, she slipped through Percy’s fingers.

No, no, no. She didn’t get to. Not when everyone else …

Percy severed the lingering connection to his dying body and chased Gaea. He’d never let her accomplish her goals. Never, never, never.

Gaea, the queen, the eternal, the sleeper – what power did she hold against Percy, who’d destroyed every single enemy he’d ever opposed, who’d fought and fought without respite? Gaea might have taken refuge in sleep and century wide plots, but Percy had never had that option.

Gaea attempted to retreat, but Percy only knew how to attack and attack even as the nothingness of the void ate away at him.

“You’d follow me to the past?” Gaea demanded hysterically. “Then see how much you like the world ruled by my children!”

“You don’t deserve to live in a world you like,” Percy hissed back.

Gaea glittered in the midst of nothing like a thousand stars, like a constellation taking shape in the Sea of Chaos.

Percy dove into her and split her into a million pieces, to be consumed by the cold fire of creation.

Percy dove into her and was consumed by the cold fire of creation.

Percy dove into her and landed on an Earth inhabited only by a fragment of Gaea.

Percy twisted around.

Percy sat up.

Someone once told Percy that at any given point in time, there were at least seven unrelated people that looked just like him, so he ought to rein in his arrogance lest he be replaced by his more biddable doppelganger.

It might have been Mr D.

A young man that could have passed as Percy were it not for his colourless hair and dark skin looked back at the two Percy’s with the polite attention of a person who had nowhere else to be and no knowledge why he ought to be anywhere at all.

“And you are–” Fish Percy broke into the tense silence.

Sitting cross-legged, without even a stitch of clothing to conceal his body, the piece of Gaea that had survived all of Percy’s attempts at mutilating her by transforming until it could pass as Percy himself in a black-and-white colour test, tilted his head.

“Who am I?” he asked back with an innocence that made Percy throw up a little in his mouth.

Some people might consider time travel as a boon – an opportunity to set right what went awry, to fix that which broke under not careful enough hands, to meet friends long dead and kill enemies that should have never grown this powerful.

Unfortunately, Percy wasn’t one of them.

This was Gaea’s do-over, the attempts of a homicidal goddess to remake the world according to her vision.

This was a moment in time that she’d wiped out more than seven people to reach.

Percy looked at the young, confused man beside him. The shock of white hair atop his head only exacerbated the perplexed look in his eyes.

Eyes golden as the Phlegethon, set in a face the rich brown of fertile soil.

Who am I?

Percy inhaled, counted to five, glanced at his twin from the depths, and arrived at a conclusion he dearly wished he could have avoided.

This was Gaea’s opportunity to fix the world – Percy had merely hijacked it.

“Can’t you tell?” Percy asked brightly, only the slightest hints of hysteria creeping into his voice. “You’re Percy too. Percy Jackson!”

***

Read on ao3.

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[bluesunsdusk]

Sigma in different setting verses and family

Strap yourself in, this will be a long post. 

Main/Overwatch

I imagine my Sigma to have had two brothers, both older than him, but both also ultimately shorter. Wouter, the eldest brother died in the Omnic Crisis while he was working for Lucheng Interstellar, which created friction between him and the family, as they felt rather upset at his absence during this very tumultuous time despite the fact that his research served to improve the chances of survival for those back on earth. The  other brother, Joris, became a sheep farmer, because he had fanciful ideas about living the farmer lifestyle up north. Siebren was surprised that he manages to get a husband, in all honesty, because he hasn’t a clue who would want to live on a farm far removed from any bus stops and towns. 

Anyway, after a while, the tension brought on by Wouter’s death dissipated, since people knew very well that Siebren cares a lot about his family. He just wasn’t as lovey-dovey as some people and showed his care through things like developing protective measures in his lab that can be used down on earth. It wasn’t like anyone would benefit from him buying candy or some shit. Leave that to Joris. Besides, what was he supposed to do if he had stayed on earth? Take the missiles in his brother’s stead? 

Sometimes, he would try to assist in looking after the children of the family, despite only being able to use long distance communications. 

He travelled away from the family home on many school trips and went into an apartment when he entered college. Being as distracted by/focused on his studies as he was, it could be hard to manage his time between his studies and his family, so he would not visit as often as they would like if he wasn’t reminded to do so because he had a hard time missing people. He had a hard time with emotions in general and was prone to tunnel vision that made him lose track of broader time.

He loves his family, he just doesn’t spend much time with them, and he clearly loves his direct family (brothers, parents) the most. Honestly, he sometimes forgot others and had to put a lot of effort into keeping them in mind early on, especially with the limited energy he had for social interactions. That being said, the children usually did enjoy his company, which made it a lot easier to remember contacting the family, especially for the children who contacted him or asked their parents about him.

If contacted, he would not just ignore a message, unlike some uncles. It could sometimes take him a while to get back at a message, but he would try to get back to it.

Merfolk

Siebren has two siblings. With the lack of a war, his eldest brother is alive, but he nearly died protecting a school of merfolk from a human attack. Humans like to collect merfolk for prestige or to eat. Most merfolk cannot speak the human languages because they spend most of their time underwater and use nonverbal means to communicate. When above water, they also just speak a different language than any of the human languages, though they might have similar enough accents to certain local dialects.

He travels a lot, so he is used to not seeing his family for long stretches of time. That being said, he makes sure to visit them every now and then, and they make the most of it whenever he is by. His eldest brother worries about him a lot, knowing how close he gets to humans in his research. 

When he visits, ge brings some items from his research. Sometimes, it’s items that are seen as junk to humans, like broken off parts of ships or parts of marine observation technology.

In an attempt to keep everyone safe, Wouter teaches his children and brothers how to defend themselves. Because Siebren isn’t around often, he has been taught a lot less. 

Monster Hunter

In this verse, Sigma has one brother, having lost his eldest brother to a demon attack while Siebren studied different dimensions for the monster hunting order he is a part of. After his brother’s death, he continued his studies, but he was less focused, eventually having an accident that exposed him to the unfiltered energies of a demonic plane. 

Anyway, he isolated himself from his family since his brother’s death. He was not at his funeral. Like in his main verse, it put a strain on the relationship between him and his brother, though his sister-in-law understood why he didn’t show up. She was just worried about him.

Like in his main verse, he is used to not seeing his family for long stretches of time, and he is aware that he may be killed in the line of duty. As time passed, he began to contact his sister-in-law more often.

Eldritch

El just... He knows he/his host has a family, and being in this body means he has a bond towards them. In fact, he cares more about them now than he did before. Eldritch just can’t visit them, because he is an eldritch host, and he doesn’t want to do harm to his family or have them do harm to him. 

He is upset sometimes because he will never meet them and he is a stranger in his own body now. 

Vampire

His family is his vampire clan. Anyone who isn’t in the cult isn’t his family. His brother and everyone else hasn’t heard from him since he went on his little expedition. They don’t even know he’s alive. He doesn’t even think about them, and he doesn’t miss any of them. All he cares about is the melody and sharing his blood with people.

Demon

He has been a demon for so long he doesn’t even remember his family, aside from vague things. Sometimes, he may recall a name or a feeling. He is used to isolation. Sometimes, he does feel lonely, so he seeks out mortal interaction, but then he tires from said mortals. 

It’s unpleasant having a need for mortal company when having such limited patience for them. Whenever he attempts to give them a chance, they remind him of why he dislikes them. 

Orc Warlock

In this verse, Sigma lives with his family in the tribe and helps raise the children when he has the time to do so. One of his brothers was killed by outsiders during an attack on their tribe before they had relocated, and the other members of the tribe offered their hands in taking care of the children while his partner mourned. Sigma was among them, despite mourning the loss of his brother as well. Back then, he had studied the arcane and partially blamed himself for not being able to fend people off well enough to protect his brother. 

As one might imagine, the orc tribes are less about studying abroad or working in space. In fact, he’s spent most of his life with the tribe. It’s big on communal childrearing and exile is seen as the biggest shame an orc can have thrust upon them. The tribe sticks together and they protect each other. An isolated orc is far more prone to being attacked and killed than a tribe is. 

Furthermore, he’s not exactly in possession of the privilege a cis white European man with higher education would have. 

People fear his kind, though unlike with certain other races, he can understand why one may have a logical reason not to trust an orc, considering Gul’dan and the Horde in a WoW verse. 

In a general fantasy setting that so happens to have the fel, which he is in, though, he believes most biases about orcs to be just that. Biases and made up nonsense, such as that all orcs are genetically predisposed to violence and inherently worst at arcane arts shouldn’t be taken as fact, yet so many do it. It doesn’t help that orcs look less than elegant to most other races, what with their sharp teeth and tusks. The hulking mass most have doesn’t help either, nor do the more extreme groups of orc that think people like Sigma should have been drowned at birth for not being born absolutely stacked.  

People, especially orcs, don’t really trust mages in some places either, so he’s double fucked. 

The tribe has people keeping watch all day and night, in shifts, and has wards around the area to detect and hinder intruders. When away from the tribe, he is on high alert and has trouble relaxing and sleeping. His eyes will open at the slightest noise, unless he’s with someone he trusts. This means someone he trusts to protect both themselves and him, and to not get caught by surprise. He won’t even sleep much better from putting up wards, and demons can draw attention.

Sometimes, the children will visit his shaman tent when he is doing normal shaman things instead of warlock things. 

Being an important member of the tribe, he also just worries about how well his people would do without him. They already almost died a few times. He’s had to protect them on numerous occasions and the forest was chosen because it’s far from people who might harm them or try to rope them into a conflict. The demons are bound to his will, too. What would happen if he was gone for so long that they ceased to be bound? Sure, Moira is there and could tame them, but he doesn’t trust her. What if she does something that alters the tribe in a way that can’t be reversed?

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he gets anxious if cut off from the tribe. It’s in contrast with regular Overwatch Sigma, who is fine not being in contact with his family for a bit, because Warlock has hardly ever been separated from his family ever, and there is a huge mentality of loyalty to the tribe He gave his actual soul for the tribe. 

That being said, even if he got a letter while away, he would not respond to it immediately if he is occupied. He will make sure it’s safe and will check it almost immediately though. 

Dragon Age

The Augur of the Obscure does not remember his family, only small snippets of it, along with blurred and scrambled memories from other parts of his life. He thinks they were close when he was younger. His studies made them drift a little apart.

Naturally, everyone he grew up with is dead. It has been quite a long time ago since the first blight, after all. Perhaps, them being dead is for the best, considering the circumstances. 

Verses not included: 

Fable 2 and 3

Fable 3: Traitor’s Keep

Elder Scrolls 4: Oblivion

Disciple of Order

Elder Scrolls 5: Skyrim

Mass Effect ot

Mass Effect Andromeda

[ask-spiderglass]

Marvel OC Ask #29- Name a few of your current villains– who’s making up your rogues gallery?

Spider-Glass: I’ve met a LOT of strange entities throughout my time on this mortal coil so I’ll mention four of them. Not in any particular order, just based some interesting ones, right out of my personal grimorie notes.

Doctor Octopus/Odyssia Octavius: An esteemed marine biologist specializing in cephalopods who used to work for The New York Aquarium, now she lives in this old abandoned military base that is partially flooded, smells like low tide and dead fish, crawling with so many “marine science projects”, all while she messes around with eldritch magic she really shouldn’t have accession at all. How did she end up like that? Based on what I learned from her monologues, she did this because she discovered this... weird cephalopod-like entity while doing an live exploration demonstration for said aquarium. This entity is most definitely some elder god’s proxy, using its power to serve whatever alien entity controls it. It serves as the middle man, being the link in which Doc Ock got into contact with this elder god and, because she’s super passionate about cephalopods, she began to grow incredibly obsessed with it and she wanted to use its powers to “ learn long forgotten secrets that science is too scared to answer”. Her words, not mine. Now she’s out to unravel everything and everyone around her apart, curiously wanting to see how they tick. Personality wise, she seems like she’s very, very giddy about marine biology and she does NOT like it when someone insults her creations. I’m also convinced that she is basically afraid of nothing. Like, I’ve seen some her less friendly allies who got tricked by her and they try to kill her, but she’s always thrilled to see what they’re capable of, even when threatened with complete annihilation. Not that I’ve seen any of them succeed. When faced with the horrors of the unknown, she’s the first to enthusiastically dive in head first into studying it. If she wasn’t about doing things such as turning people to horrible fish chimeras, it would be admirable. have anxiety so I am a bit envious of her utter lack of fear but, it’s probably for the best that I don’t experience that.

Green Goblin/Norman Osborn: Harry’s terrible dad. Seriously, and here I thought my dad was garbage. He’s this exiled Unseelie Archfae, a Lord of the Autumn Court to be specific. Don’t know too much about his past or even if “Norman Osborn” is his true name. I doubt it. Not even Harry knows much about the guy’s past. Although the Autumn Court thing explains his love of everything Halloween related. I’ve been to his executive office at the OsCorp HQ during October and man does this guy go all (and to be honest he keeps his decorations up all year). One time Harry invited me to a Christmas party at his dad’s place and man it still looked like it was Halloween in his house. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the guy do anything else with his decorating. ... Got a bit sidetracked there. Whoops. Anyhow, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so two faced in my entire life and I’m including Flash Thompson in that! Sometimes he seems like your average evil business boy and draconian father but when he REALLY wants to go ham, he drops the serious business boy act real fast. He goes from refined but kinda lame rich asshole to the most unhinged madman I’ve ever had to witness. Throwing pumpkins is one thing but releasing sentient pumpkins that breathe fire everywhere is a different matter entirely. And also turning NYC into a massive pumpkin patch nightmare maze zone that one time. Ruined pumpkin spice anything and pumpkin pies... Also he’s very big on the Art Nouveau movement, so if you ever visit OsCorp, that’s why the architecture looks like that. I’m not entirely sure what his true motivations are, and he never gives a clear answer to anything ever, but whatever it is, he is very unpredictable and hard to get a good read on. His entry is still a WIP.

Mysterio/Quinlan Beck: The biggest theater kid I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting and she’s actually just a magical century old lady skeleton in fancy clothes. Little known secret about Broadway is that for the last several decades or so, a lich resides in area. According to theater kid mythology, Mysterio is the guardian spirit of Broadway theaters and she’s considered to a very knowledgeable lich who provides protection of the playhouses, secret advice for those wanting to get into Broadway, and even insuring the hefty success of a production. Theater kids are a very superstitious bunch who would do anything for guaranteed success, so of course, they have yet to reveal the location of her phylactery. So for now, Mysterio is immortal for the time being. Which kinda sucks, because she is one of the most pretentious and annoying villains to fight. While two can play at the illusion game, she can do a lot more than I can. She also forces anyone she manages to capture to act in her stupid plays. It happened to me once and it felt like I was a puppet being made to relive some not so great moments just for the “drama”. The only good thing about her is that she usually keeps herself busy with the theater kids who managed to sort of placate her. Sometimes. And she is able to really mess you up if she finds it entertaining, so that’s something.

Shatter (Previously Venom)/Edith Brock: Had a weird shoulder demon to go with my weird shoulder angel for a time and it was not fun. Boy, was it not fun. It began with it slipping into my body and soul. Things didn’t immediately take a nose dive; Shatter allowed my to access Infernal magic that I previously had no power over and at first the demon did give me some improvements on my usual powers. Some of the time, it was Akavi and Shatter were fighting each other in my body on who would get drive the Spider-Glass, it they would be able to compromise. But then Shatter was starting to snuff out any voice Akavishiel had and I started to feel... off. It started small with tiny little vices they wanted me to do, then it grew into cravings for an ungodly amount of sweets, which would then become cravings for flesh, and then it started to make me do things against my will... I had no other choice but to remove Shatter from my body and that meant I needed to perform an exorcism on myself. Easier said than done. Shatter escapes before I could contain it... In enters Edith Brock. Edith is a classmate I don’t know too well and she’s with my bully Eugenia “Flash” Thompson’s crowd. Edith also seems to be... weirdly resentful towards me? I don’t know what I did to her that made her this upset at me but she was always following Flash around... But I do know that once I as Spider-Glass inadvertently got Flash’s attention when I saved her life, she always seemed to be suspicious of me. I-I think she knew who Spider-Glass was and I don’t think she liked the fact that Flash now was fan girling over Spider-Glass. Just like how I met Akavishiel... I believe Edith inadvertently came across Shatter, who was not happy with me exorcising them from my body and well... I guess it was a match made in Hell for them.

[umbramatic]

Worldbuilding June 2020 Episode 3

3. Who lives in your world?

The diversity of sapient species living on Klidi is astounding. They come in all shapes and sizes, forms and functions, some very familiar and others very not. It gives me great sadness to do so, but I had to narrow down which I covered here.

(No really. I uh, have written down a lot of sapient species/race/whatever notes for this world, so for this entry not to be an utter nightmare for me to write down without copy pasting old notes, I had to be picky. They have been divided into "familiar" (basic shit pretty much every fantasy setting has only here because I like them) and "unfamiliar" (stuff I got a little more creative with). Also there is no "alignment", especially fixed alignment. Any of these fuckers can be just as good or evil as any other, privilege aside. Anyhoo...)

(The Familiar:)

(Humans)

Ah yes, the classic, the hardy, humanity. There is not much different to them that is not seen in other timelines, but they are the most populous of what the world calls "hnau" or "people." They are no better or worse than things than the others and are highly reliable. 

(Ah yes, hyoo mans. I do not need to go into them much for there was a human inside you all along.)

(Molivites) 

These sturdy burrowers have been seen in other worlds under different names. They do not dig out of greed, but out of hunger for minerals. Their food causes their hair and bones to be metallic, and gems to sprout from their skin. They like to be left alone, but their culture prioritizes the masculine. 

(It should be obvious these are dorfs by a different name. The only reason they aren't called dorfs here is because it makes no-in-universe sense for these particular  dorfs to define themselves by their height compared to hyoomans.)

(Elves)

These pointy eared people intertwine flesh with crystals and plants. Crystal leafy branches and lichen grow from them, enhancing both their lifespan and magical ability. While stereotyped as living in forests, they will live anywhere without too harsh of winters. (one of my goals with these fucks was to make them just... people. Not snootily arrogant or snootily arrogant AND EVIL or eternally screwed over for their misdeeds but just... people. And also weird crystal plant hybrids because that shit is my jam.)

(Vampires)

Monochrome-skinned people who feed on blood. Most feed on animal blood, but some more privileged aristocratic societies have cabals based on eating the blood of peoplekind. Sunlight is not inherently lethal but is extremely painful to be directly exposed to so most live in caves or deep dark forests where the sun doesn't reach the ground. 

(Fun fact vampires here are an outright species, not an infection of other species, intended to fill the same niche "dark elves" do in other settings. Also yes the nobles are the ones who are the actual maneaters for obvious reasons.)

(Fire Dragons)

There are multiple types of dragon on Klidi, but one of the most familiar is the Fire Dragon. Archosaurs with four legs, two wings, sets of three cheek spikes, and horns. Named for their ability to breathe fire and strong control of fire magic. They are painted by bigots as dangerous monsters, and so most fire dragons hide away.

(Dergs. Love them. Cherish them. Accept them into your heart. Forfeit all mortal possessions to the- wait)

(The Unfamiliar:)

(Gorgomen)

Strange beings that resemble prehistoric mammal-like creatures and are the result of an incident with the time-space continuum on Klidi. They subsist largely by hunting, but are dedicated farmers as well, and stereotypes about them being a warrior race are grossly incorrect. Just don't call them lizards.

(Do you know what gorgonopsids are? They're my favorite obscure prehistoric creature! So fuck it I'm putting gorgonopsid people in my fantasy setting.)

(Barb Cats)

These cat-like humanoids resemble snow leopards in all but their tails, which are barbed and scorpion-like in "males" (known as manticores) and sleek and snakelike in "females" (known as sphinxes). This sexual dimorphism has been heavily influential on ideals of gender in their society, mostly for the worse.

(I am not sure what convinced me to merge sphinxes and manticores into one, sapient species except that possibly I'm a furry.)

(Dragon Whales)

One of the other sapient dragon species in Klidi. Massive marine reptiles, they live underwater, communicate with others by telepathy, and manipulate objects with telekinesis. They mostly interact with other water-dwelling sapient species, but are not opposed to communication with those on the surface.

(-marge simpson voice- I just thought they'd be neat)

(Satyrs)

Humanoid goats, frequently short, with dexterous front hooves for grasping things. They eat pretty much anything and get along pretty much everywhere.

(the decision to overhaul satyrs/fauns into full-on goat people also has no explanation other than possibly the fact i'm a furry. Similarly to vampires they're intended to fill the role hobbits/haflings/kender/etc fill in other fantasy settings)

(Pixies)

Superficially, pretty, sparkly, glamorous fey, they are in fact dragonfly-like humanoids with advanced illusion powers. They create an air of "fair folk" to drive others away, so they can live in peace.

(I wanted to have evil eldritch fair folk types without them being actually that evil, so there you go)

(Other:) (Luminoria and Umbratics)

Two groups of beings, one of light, one of darkness, that are subspecies of one known as the Celestials. They start life in a larval stage that metamorphosizes into a shapeshifting adult state that cannot die, just be reduced to a "core." They live in their own parallel dimensions to Klidi, but often visit there and influence its history, for good and for ill.

(Basically the substitute for angels and demons. Also yes my username is derived partly from the Umbratics.)

[askjenetiakrole]

The Forbidden Fortress

At the heart of the mass rose eight massive spikes of dark metal, thrusting higher even than the spires around them, jutting as a single coronet into the skies. And within the heart of that iron crown, more massive than anything else, jet-black, frosted like glass, a hemisphere of such aching perfection that it made the urban sprawl lapping up to its perimeter look like a tide of thrown rubble. Lightning was drawn to the dome, licking and slithering around it in an unending cascade of attraction. Its smooth face swam with eldritch light, reflecting the lacerating discharge of the firmament.

It had been made, like so much else on Terra, so far in the past that its origins were now little more than myth. Some held that the Emperor Himself had laid the first stone. It was almost universally believed that He had designed it, drawing up the plans that would one day connect its central chamber to the mechanisms of the Golden Throne itself.

The majority knew nothing of the Black Ships that ran their long circuits through the lonely paths of the void. They knew nothing of the ancient harvest of the gifted, who had once been destined to form the vanguard of a new humanity, but were now fated to become something just a little more exalted than psychic firewood. They knew nothing of the months-long voyages in those creaking, heavily warded behemoths. They knew nothing of the null-soulled guardians plucking the strange and the changed from their childhood homes. They knew nothing of the long journeys back home, assailed on all sides by madness within and without, until they came back to the Sol System at last, unmarked and unmonitored, to dock with the stygian orbital facilities rotating silently over Terra’s skies. They knew nothing of the choices made by age-ravaged ancients, selecting those who might survive to prosper under the guidance of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica to become the soul-seers and seekers of dreams that the Imperium relied upon in order to communicate with itself. They did not know that a few select individuals among that harvest might be elevated to the highest echelons of all – the mysterious Librarians of the Space Marines, or the sanctioned psykers of the Astra Militarum – and that of those, many in turn would be selected for service within the Forbidden Fortress.

So it was that the black-liveried landers would descend on prescribed nights, slipping out of orbit and down into the Throneworld’s crowded skies. Once disembarked, the chosen would file through the great arched gates, their heads shaved, their bodies stripped naked and their names taken from them. They would be given new raiment – nightshade robes, controller collars, spinal implants and steel-ringed input nodes at the bases of their skulls. They would be instructed in the lore and the mysteries of their craft, and learn to control the beasts that coiled within their minds.

Many would die during that training. Others would succumb to insanity and be turned over to the tech-priests for servitor-meat. For those who survived, a mind-altering journey of discovery awaited them, one denied to almost all other members of their species. They would learn the true nature of the ether. They would learn of the beings that dwelt within it. They would learn of the few ways that a mortal could employ its powers safely, and the many ways that a mortal could wreak destruction through hubris, malevolence or error. They would write treatises on the philosophy of the empyrean, and compose music reflecting its shifting harmonics. They would be tested, over and over again, for signs of taint, sickness or open-mindedness. They would come to believe, in time, that annihilation in His service was the highest calling any mortal human could ever hope for. They would dream of it. They would long for it. And, when the call finally came, they already knew the words they would sing, endlessly, rapturously, as their eyelids burned away and their skin began to crisp.

The Astronomican itself was a gigantic sphere. Its lower half was hewn from the stone of the mountain; the upper half looked like glass. The scale of it was hard to process – the zenith and nadir stretched so far overhead and underfoot that both were lost in the haze of distance. All across the sphere’s inner surface were points of light, thousands of them, some blazing brightly, others dim. Murmuring, shouting, chanting filled the entire space, reflecting and echoing back and forth until it seemed that there must be millions of sources there, fissured, overlapping, interplaying.

At the very centre was a huge orb of light, dancing, spinning, whirling like a neutron star. It was not static, but it vibrated to an uncertain rhythm, contracting and expanding like a lung taking in air. Tendrils of ephemeral force ran into the orb, connecting it to the thousands of lights at the sphere’s edge. Pulses travelled down the tendrils, all moving in the same direction – towards the centre. It should have been beautiful. The light was blue-white, dazzling in its purity, making the glass dome ripple like sunlight on water. The singing was harmonious, the proportions of the sphere were perfect.

Instead, it was hateful. It was abominable. Every one of those brilliant points contained, at its heart, an iron throne. On every throne writhed a mortal man or woman, locked down by iron collars, their skin punctured by control jacks, their temples weighed down by psy-resonant tiaras, burning themselves to death. This was a furnace. A cold, hard furnace. Each point of light was slowly being drained to nothing, sucked into the orb in order to generate the signal that burned through the warp itself.

It was humanity’s greatest and most irreplaceable psychic accomplishment.

- The Hollow Mountain by Chris Wraight (art by Igor Sid)

[clown-bait]

Monster Family CH8 (Monster Roommate AU)

ONLY 7 MORE DAYS GUYS!!!! IM SO EXCITED! Until then tho, pregnant tentacle sex anyone?

Ch8

Skinny Dipping

"Why do you hate the librarian?" The question caught Pennywise off guard and he nearly swallowed half the lake as he flailed out of his floating position. "Like I know parts of his story but I want your side too." It took the eldritch a moment to think carefully as Leech tried to justify her curiosity. He had never told anyone about what happened then. Finally, he stood out of the water porcelain flesh backlit by the pale moon and faux fireflies. Leech wouldn't forget the ferocity in his features as he relived the memory. The creature shook himself violently like a dog does to relieve tension. His hair while still loose dried instantly and his costume covered his lean pale skin. The massive clown sat down next to his mate. "You will not like what you see." He finally said. "I was not the same then, I mocked emotions, I was cruel. Like a child plucking the wings off a butterfly." His voice warbled through the air as the dancing yellow lights dimmed and faded away. A small hand took his glove and long black nails ran over the fabric. "You're still evil now…. but that’s what I signed up for isn't it?" His mate said softly.

His glove left her and instead pulled her into his lap. "I would have gobbled you up without a second thought darling." He purred his hand sliding over their brood. Leech let out an amused huff and settled into his warm silk. "I don't believe that you're a complete hopeless romantic." She joked, earning her a playful growl and a nip to her ear. "Close your eyes and see." Pennywise whispered into her skull kissing the cold skin softly. When she obeyed it was as if her imagination had been hijacked, suddenly the warm summer night was a stormy day and she stood in the storm drain on the corner of Witcham and Jackson street. "27 years ago, I was a very different clown." A voice echoed in her head. "It started with a boy. My biggest mistake." A little boy in a raincoat ran to the entrance of the drain and squatted down. Leech knew what came next.

She had seen Penny hunt before. It was brutal but then again she was no better sometimes. This one felt painful to witness. "Like a child plucking the wings off a butterfly." her lover's words echoed in her head. She felt his starvation, his want to destroy something innocent. She could feel Pennywise's every desire in the moment and the satisfaction of when he got it. The memories thumbed forward like the turning of pages a girl named Betty torn in half through teeth and claws that weren't her own. A young Mike Hanlon trembled in the doorway of the old butcher shop. The Jewish boy Stanley and his flute woman, the new kid Ben and the ghosts of Derry's past. Eddie, Beverly, Richie, and finally the brother Bill who Leech could feel the clown’s particular malice towards. He craved them all and patiently marinated his meat before slaughter. They were to be his grand finale. His memories of that summer overwhelmed her. The shock of being discovered, the first experience of pain, his fear of his immortality being questioned. Then that final fight deep in his lair. She felt his fear and all the emotions that he had so eagerly mocked overcoming him. She saw and felt everything he felt. Feeling his terror of mortality and death brought tears to her eyes. Then the powerful creature had been bested and had decided in present-day, his mate had seen enough. Time slowed for the vampire and she was herself once more staring at the blue-eyed creature in front of her.

"Oh my god…..were the same…." she said quietly. "Our biggest fears…" cold hands touched his face and her thumbs ran over his puffy cheeks. "We’re the same Pen." She smiled pulling the eldritch to her lips. He despised the Losers for what they did to him but he would thank them for one thing, the chance to experience emotions like this.

"Now play the part of you getting your ass beat by pre-teens again" his mate giggled and the clown pulled back and snarled.

"That is not funny."

"It's a little bit funny."

Pennywise frowned for a moment then grinned wickedly. his arms shot out at his mate and trapped her in a vice-like grip which began to pull her to the water as she squealed insults and curses at him.

"PEN NO! FUCK YOU THIS IS A NEW DRESS!" She shrieked and kicked but her clown was quick and she ended up back in the lake anyway.

She rose from the water pissed and soaked to the bone her new dress hung heavy over her body revealing curves and swells in her figure. A pleased rumble left the eldritch’s throat. "Mock me again and I’ll rip that pretty little garment clear off." He snarled and pulled her forward in the water tendrils slithered up her legs from the depths. "Or maybe that’s what you want me to do." He growled as a long tentacle slipped up her thigh. "You’ll owe me a new one." The vampire hissed and squirmed half-heartedly. "I'd get you a thousand if it meant I could see this pretty sight." He purred and cupped the curve of her ass in his massive hands. "My pretty mate so wet and feisty." His hand swatted her rear with a crack Leech's claws dug into the wet silk of the clown’s costume. His hands hiked her wet dress over the swell of her backside inky black tentacles replaced his hands squeezing the soft flesh and the clown explored her other curves in the waist-deep water.

"You’re growing so fast sweet thing" he murmured his voice almost shaking with excitement as his hands and tendrils touched her belly. "I’ve made you swell so much. Will miss seeing you like this….might have to do it again next cycle."

"Absolutely not!"

"Hmm then I will carry them."

"You’re kidding! You? Pregnant? Pen you’re already needy as it is!" Leech squirmed a bit but a large python like tendril curled around her chest. She snapped her razor fangs at him before he could reach her neck letting out a low chitter as he caught her jaw and quickly drug her deeper into the water.

"Little hunter is feisty today."

"You’re supposed to be making it up to me asshole." She squirmed and hissed.

"And still so jealous! As if I'd let anyone else know me as you do. They are unworthy."

"Then give me what you owe me." Leech snarled back and he held her cool soft cheek against his razor fangs.

"Say please." The clown hissed as his teeth retraced in anticipation barely able to put them away before his mate's lips were frantically pressing against his own.

They crashed together in a frenzy of claws and tendrils pennywise dragged her under the surface stealing her breath and rubbing a particularly thick and long tentacle between her legs as he kissed her. They broke the surface and leech gasped for air one tentacle holding the back of her head as her clown bit and sucked her neck. A chorus of "pleases" spilled from her lips as her new dress was gently pulled off her till they were skin to skin his tendrils pulling open her legs and seating her around his waist.

"I will no longer wait. You have teased me enough today made my knees shake with want. Little thing makes me feel in ways others cannot."

"You could just say you love me." Leech smirked and a tendril squeezed her neck as something hard pressed into her pussy.

"I love you." He growled through fangs as his hips pressed up sinking her further down onto him.

Leech let out a whimper as he stretched her "Fuuuck th-that's big- shit!"

Pennywise groaned and trailed off into a chuckle. "Too much?" He sneered as his hips bucked slowly. She gasped at the stretch and bit under her eldritch's jaw. "No….never….more I want more." Leech panted and traced her own claws down his neck and into the water sliding. They over his lower back and she began to press her nails into him as if to spur him to push deeper. It seemed to deliver the intended message and water splashed as he thrust in harder, beginning a rhythm.

"Who's needy now." He growled and pulled her legs open wider. More tendrils joined them one protectively around her swollen belly and one slithered up between her breasts as others pushed them together so the appendage could slide between them. Leech gave her mate a look and he made a laugh like gurgle as he leaned in to suck on her neck "So soft, so squishy." He growled as his tentacles kneaded the cool soft flesh. Leech could feel his fangs at her neck as he thrusted below the surface, each pant sending warm breath over her cold wet skin. His tongue felt extra hot as it ran over her flesh and when she shuddered his tendrils squeezed tighter in excitement.  Leech threw her head back and let him pound into her listening to the water slosh back and forth in waves around them. Her clown groaned as her claws pulled his damp hair increasing his pace turning the gentle waves into violent splashes. "Ngh...mmm tongue….out.. now!" he could barely speak his command and growled in pleasure when he felt the cool wet muscle slide up and down the tendril fucking his mate's gravid breasts. "Good girl.."he shuddered and gripped her backside harshly "good goooood girl." Leech smiled as she licked him watching her primordial god come utterly undone for her as she gently sucked the tip of his tentacle. A heartbeat later, the clown smirked to himself and watched as her expression changed when a small thin tendril licked a stripe in the vampire's back door. Leech gasped and nearly went stiff in his arms still being bounced on his cock by tentacles. "Pen...mm.. what are you doing?" She gasped.

"Making it up to you." He panted out and swirled the tip around her tight hole like a tongue. "Gonna make you float Peachy. Give you want you want. Float with me, love. Float."

His small tentacle eased in and both moaned in pleasure Leech going almost limp in his grasp as little ball like bumps formed in the tendril. Her senses were completely shot, all she could hear were her mate's obscene growling and her own high pitched moans. The tendril around her stomach slithered and caressed their brood as if to hold them safe from what he was doing to their mother. Leech twitched from the impending knot forming inside her, knowing she wouldn't be able to hold this orgasm back. As if sensing it himself Pennywise's tendril between her breasts slithered around her throat and brought her close to him and she could feel his fangs on the shell of her ear. "Float….float with me." He hissed. Hearing the desperation in his voice sent her over the edge and Leech nearly screamed her orgasm.  "Yes..yesssss…." the eldritch groaned as her body squeezed and shuddered joining her with his own release in both her holes and face.

They bobbed on the surface of the lake panting wildly with exhaustion. Eventually, the tentacles receded and Leech dunked her face underwater to clean herself coming back up to hold her monster. Pennywise affectionately petted his mate's head against him as she used him as a life ring, his own release exhausted him more than he anticipated. He stopped when he spotted a very tall very upset looking figure on the bank of the river.

"Hey you alright?" Leech mumbled weakly, softly kissing his neck. "Pen?"

"Vorhees." He snarled. Leech released her mate and groaned.

"Shit! My phone's on the shore. We can't call the exterminator."

"I am more than capable of defending you dear. We do not need to get Kruger. " The clown snarled.

"You'll be fighting him all night I want to go to dinner."

"It will take me five minutes Peachy."

"Yeah, and you'll end up getting stabbed then I'm taking care of you for the rest of the night. I know how this goes Pen, this happens every time we fuck outside. Also, why isn't he yelling?"

The clown grunted and shut his eyes "The riot you started on Halloween. Throat injury."

"And lemme guess he has a grudge. Fanfuckingtastic." Leech groaned as the undead giant raised his machete pointing to the spot his vocal chords had been maimed. "Guess we have no choice but to kick his butt."

"You won't be doing anything."

"Yes I will, there's two of us and one of him."

"You are pregnant."

"Just because you knocked me up doesn't mean I can't still punch people!"

"He has a weapon Peachy!"

"And I have five on each hand!"

Jason had shuffled to a rock to sit down as he waited for the pair to stop arguing. He pulled out a white board and began to write hoping to get things moving. The giant threw a stone at Pennywise then pointed to what he wrote. Can I just kill you so I can go home?

"Why don't you just leave us alone instead!" Leech called out from the middle of the lake.

You guys were clearly breaking the rules on premarital sex in the woods sorry! Jason wrote back.

"Enough of this." Pennywise growled and sunk into the water moving through it like a crocodile as he glared at the giant.

"Can you at least hand me a towel first." Leech complained as her mate dragged her to the shore.

"You! I am fed up with being disturbed. Peachy say I do so we may be left in peace."

"The fuck does that mean?"

"Say it."

"Hand me a fucking towel first and tell me what the fuck is going on."

An annoyed and impatient rumble escaped the clown's lips as he tossed Leech's towel to her. "And what do we say?"

"I-I do? Pen what-"

"Excellent I declare us married now leave." The eldritch pointed at the giant then to the woods.

"What the fuck?!" Leech hissed pulling her towel around herself. Her clown arched an eyebrow then grunted in realization quickly leaning down to peck his mate on the lips before grinning smugly. "Leave." He sneered and lazily rested an arm over his apparently new bride. Jason looked just as confused as the nosferatu.

"I married us you may no longer disturb me or my mate."

"The fuck does that mean Pen?" Leech snarled at him holding her towel up as best she could

"I own the town" he shrugged.

"Oh my God. So this was…"

"Official yes."

The vampire's breath caught in her throat. Did she just get married? In a towel? To Pennywise? Air she needed air. No, wait she needed to sit. Her stress was too high the babies were already exhausting her.

"Can you both just excuse me for just a second." The vampire walked to the edge of the water and promptly passed out face-first onto a large stone. Her body twitched and vomited ichor before going completely still.

Pennywise stared at her for a moment then back to where Jason was standing. Then back to his still unconscious wife. This did not go as planned. Not at all.

[salavante]

for the OC tag thing: the Helmsman!

Cat’s out the bag so here’s The Helmsman featured with his real name! 

Full Name: Yawg-Ecthylion, The Helmsman, God of The Void

Gender and Sexuality: Male and eh I dunno, I’ve never thought about it, but his two romantic entanglements have been with women.

Pronouns: He/Him but I don’t think he’d turn his nose up at they/them, I think he sees himself as existing outside of human constructs of that kind of thing. He’s not really even organic.

Ethnicity/Species: Threnghelleon Deity

Birthplace and Birthdate: Hah ok, here’s a funfact that I’ll probably talk about later in something specifically about them, and that I think I talked about with Ethem-Cailo. All of the OG Threnghelleon gods were made by Jovix-Diocunigast’s experiences. There was awhile where whenever Dio had a new thought or action, a new god would spin into being. The Helmsman was created when Dio first conceptualized ‘nothingness’. I think there’s a little more to it than that, but that ball might be in my Co-DM’s court.

Guilty Pleasures: The Helmsman is cruel, bitter and sadistic, and enjoys inflicting pain on things. I think one can extract a lot from that alone. Before the hunt, he had spent most of his several millennia long life almost completely isolated, hunting eldritch abominations at the bottom of Threnghelleon’s icy ocean, which has informed a lot of his decision making in how he fights and sees his opponents. Wearing down large enemies slowly, making use of what’s left of the carcass - that’s The Helmsman’s game. Which is really a roundabout way of saying that he basically tortures his opponents and then takes trophies or makes scrimshaws, leather-working pieces, etc out of the dead gods and mortals that he faces on The Hunt. He likes to step on toes and rattle cages to get reactions out of people. Negative attention is better than no attention, and it’s certainly made him a fan favorite among Threnghelleon’s edgier viewers. I say this as a guilty pleasure because he is not incapable of guilt, and before the hunt, was a fairly honorable, lawful God, if not still violent and creepy. In rare moments of reflection, he wonders how he fell so far, but usually doubles down afterwards. The public and the rest of the pantheon saw him a certain light that gained him attention, and he, starved for any kind of connection to others, leaned heavily into it. He has allowed other people’s perceptions and opinions of him to shape his identity and sense of personhood, which I think is rather tragic, but he likes making belts out of human hair so...

Phobias: It’s hard for me to say what The Helmsman is afraid of because most of his worst fears have come to pass and have made him the bastard coated bastard we know today. Being alone, being forgotten countless times, having his expertise and hard work taken advantage of. Paranoia aimed at Jovix-Diocunigast has turned out to be entirely accurate - Dio felt threatened by how much attention that The Helmsman was getting for defending the realm and killing giant monsters, so Dio effectively cursed him so that no one could remember his name. People began calling him Yawg-Ecthylion less and less, and The Helmsman more and more. Ethem-Awnrah, Goddess of Memory, is the only one who remembered his real name.

What They Would Be Famous For: The Helmsman played pretty much right into Dio’s ploy and turned into a craven, vile weirdo, and the media circus that broadcasts The Hunt loves him for it.

What They Would Get Arrested For: Murder and turning corpses into crafts.

OC You Ship Them With: The Helmsman has had two canonical spouses which have both produced children. His first wife was mortal, a deep-sea marine biologist named Svea who came upon his ship, The Susurrant Phantasm, in her own submarine while researching the fauna surrounding the Mouth of Yawg, Threnghelleon’s entrance into the void/ether/unknown/whatever you’d like to call it. Their union produced The Helmsman’s demigod daughter Yawg-Enyion, who would later take up his mantle of defending the realm with her warfleet while The Helmsman was on The Hunt. However, between her inability to remember his name, and being torn between her own life and her duty as the wife of a deity, the two of them split. Enyion reminds The Helmsman of his ex-wife a bit too much for comfort, and the two of them have a very strained, complicated relationship.

The next one is a little bit of a doozy.

Yawg-Ecthylion and Ethem-Awnrah always kind of had eyes for each other, and were courting before he lost his name and was soft-shunned by the rest of the pantheon. This, naturally, disrupted all of that, and they would not reconnect until The Hunt occurred. In the time between The Circle going on The Hunt and The Helmsman slowly deteriorating into a monstrous douchebag, he and Awnrah clicked again and produced a son: Veth-Rawn, the mysterious god of Psychics. But Sal, you say, in that writeup you made a thousand years ago, didn’t you say that Veth-Rawn had uncertain parentage? Well, that is because The Helmsman being a nasty ass murderous bastard made The Goddess of Memory so incensed that she accidentally wiped all of the universe’s memory of their time together in a fit of passionate rage. This, unfortunately, included Veth-Rawn, leaving the God of Psychics mentally shattered, and forced to grow up utterly alienated by his would-be family, who didn’t know who he was or why he was there. It is only really recently that this came to light, and was one of my endgame plot twists.

If the team beats Dio, The Helmsman will go back to Threnghelleon with his comatose son to heal him and try to make things right with his daughter, Enyion. Awnrah is staying with the hometeam and the other defectors from The Hunt - Geeg, Derog and Wybjorn. I’ll probably touch on her sometime on her own, I’m quite fond of her, and she’s a Good Guy now so she’ll be featuring in post-Godslaughter campaigns.

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Either Jonquil (his hometeam rival for the game), Jovix-Diocunigast or Jovix-Cailo. Jonquil spent the better part of the game trying to learn how to shove his soul into a diamond and hurl it into space. Jovix-Cailo has hated him for a very long time and enjoyed tormenting him as soon as he got a power bump. And Dio would just turn him into a smear for defecting. Awnrah could also utterly annihilate him if she wasn’t such a decent person, she could crack his psyche open like an egg.  

This is where the book/movie section usually goes but I’ll be real with you, I don’t think The Helmsman bothers with either. I think he sees most things of human invention as being kind of beneath him. But he especially hates most artistic interpretations of himself, and has very seldom happened upon one that he feels gives him due diligence.

Talents and/or Powers: The Helmsman honestly has a build that I would LOVE to use as a player character. It hinges largely on stacking DOTs (Damage Over Time) and status afflictions, making him able to whittle down opponents with large health pools as well as get a trickle of HP back to himself. His whaling hooks are called Black Tongue and North Star, and they give him some pretty impressive reach, and the ability to swing large, heavy objects around. He also has a few abilities such as “Where Strides The Behemoth” that gives him heavier damage output when he’s facing an enemy larger than him, and “Like Water”, where he effectively ignore gravity and can move freely through space. His very large peepers are usually squinting, as he is not really accustomed to full light, but in darkness, they open all the way into horrible, near perfect circles. Really, out of all of the Threnghelleon gods, The Helmsman is the most biologically compatible with his environment.

Why Someone Might Love Them: The Helmsman has a very primal, intense quality that I think a certain kind of person could find attractive. For many years, he did a very dirty, thankless job that benefitted all mankind and the pantheon, which is perfectly respectable. He’s fairly witty and is good at banter, and is handy in a fight, a couple of traits that Threnghelleon folk appreciate. I also think his more tragic qualities attract a level of pity that could entice someone to desire becoming closer to him. I dunno, he has magic eyes that see in the dark, some people dig that.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: He stalks/murders/tortures indiscriminately and treats corpses of pretty much anything like someone would treat the corpse of an animal. He does not see the distinction between humanoid person and animal/monster and considers it all free game. He’s mouthy, impatient, cruel and sadistic and has set aflame 10,000 worlds. What’s not to hate.

How They Change: The Helmsman’s arc in the game was the slow-dawning horror of the fact that pretty much all of his current murderous identity has been spoon-fed to him by other people, and he just kind of went along with it because he was weak-willed and desperate for attention. This troubles him pretty deeply and makes him lose his hutzpah towards the end of the game. He does end up defecting from the Hunt to the hometeam to help take down Diocunigast, the guy who cursed him and started his downhill slope. But I really hesitate to say that he’s a Good Guy. He doesn’t feel all that bad about all the people he’s tortured/killed/made into fanny packs, at least not to the degree he should. The Helmsman will still go about his nasty ways when he’s back on Threnghelleon, but will be more judicious about who he kills and how. He’s also resolved to try and repair his relationship with his daughter Enyion, and hopefully heal Veth-Rawn. He has no intention, however, to try and re-initiate a romantic relationship with Ethem-Awnrah, though he still kinda loves her. He knows he FUBAR’d that one.

Why You Love Them: I enjoy villains! His ferocity is cathartic and entertaining and challenging to to the PCs. I genuinely wasn’t sure if he was going to be alive or not by the end of our game. Sometimes it’s fun to just have a downright fucker in the mix. I also like his design, which while not THE most inspired, is a lot of fun to draw. The Helmsman was the first of the Gods that I designed, with Ethem-Cailo being second. Also an internet stranger said he was hot once.