#the top brass seem to wear golds and browns but their not-top-brass wears green

[themoomoorn]

With this nifty color analysis in place, how would you interpret Byleth, Ashen Demon and villain(ess) of a thousand mercenaries' nightmares, having a soft pink as their secondary color? It does apply a bit more to the female, but other than their promotion (Which has divine/royal purple/gold/white as the main combo), all of their options include pink!

And one nifty aspect about Claude that I will always be convinced is a happy accident is that yellow and green are both his colors - enhanced by the fact that green appears to be Almyra's representative/national color. He's heroic when he embraces both colors (even though Barbarossa's outfit is mostly brown and gold) and more villainous when he's sliding towards one...hm hm hmm...

For a second, let's look at how Houses/Hopes uses colour and equipment to foreshadow what each characters role is in the game.

Byleth is the Ashen Demon, and checking around in the Japanese text this is meant to be more of a grey character. So, somewhere between black and white. They have black armor initially, but gain white when they obtain their Enlightened One class after fusing with Sothis. Black and White right there, but there's more. They lose the white (Enlightened One powers) if they fight alongside Edelgard, leader of the Black Eagle Strike Force, against Rhea, whose title is the White One in Japanese, undoing their character arc and returning to how they were at the beginning of the game.

That's cool. We also see Red associated with Edelgard, a colour that the series uses to denote enemies, with her little cape and the names of her routes (though Safflower was done this in relation to the lyrics of Edge of Dawn). Dimitri, while he has black armor after the timeskip, has a blue cap (a heroic colour in the franchise) and his Great Lord design drops the black armor for a whiter set. Considering it's used at the end of Flower, where his mental problems didn't drive him, and at the end of Moon, where he becomes the Hero, the design is meant to show he's the good guy here.

Claude is associated with gold/yellow, usually used for a third enemy faction on a map. This works with his outsider status, but joining the Deer in Houses results in the route being labelled as Verdant. It's green, an ally color, while the House keeps it's association with yellow in Hopes, where Claude becomes a villain in his own right. But considering Claude leaves Fodlan in Byleth's hands and returns to Almyra, it's almost like Almyra is meant to be the true third faction.

We also see their weapons relating to the weapons triangle. Byleth has a sword and beats Edelgard's axe in SS while they're implied to lose their sword at the end of Flower, replacing it with the Sword of Seiros. Sword can no longer beat axe. Edelgard's axe beats Dimitri's lance unless he has help from Byleth, while Dimitri's win sees him as King with Byleth being his ally. We get something similar with Claude's bow, it's outside the triangle and would be at a disadvantage if he was attacked directly. He needs an ally to back up. Likewise, the series has used swords as the heroic weapon often enough while axes were originally enemy only as they weren't seen as heroic.

We put this together and we end up with something like this. Grey/Silver + Sword = Good, Blue + Lance = Good, Bow + Green = Good Ally, Bow + Yellow = Bad Enemy, Red + Axe = Bad.

Silver can also represent the design philosophy of the game. It's Byleth's route, the one most materials push as happening, but you can't save everyone. No matter how much you want to march with Dimitri, join Claude, or get Edelgard to wake the fuck up and see reality, you can't. You can get a good ending, but not a perfect ending where everyone lives. And considering the one war phase that is associated with gold is a villain route, a route that is the antithesis of Wind, the idea of a “Golden Route” is presented as a bad thing because it goes against what Houses was doing.

[snek-panini]

Book time! I want to post all my new stuff but don't want to flood people with them, so I waited a bit after my last one to put this one up, but I can't wait any longer to show it off. This is The Rose and the Serpent, a Good Omens Beauty and the Beast AU by Atalan. I know there's some kind of fairy tale fic event going on in the fandom right now but this one is from a few years back, so if that's your thing and you're impatient go check this one out.

I'm totally in love with how this one came out. It's like, if you had a cartoon character who's reading a plot-relevant book of fairy tales, this is the book you'd draw for them. Belle has this book. It's perfect for its niche. The front cover is burgundy cardstock with brown faux leather on the spine, and antique-brass-finish photo corners to protect the edges. The rose was done with gold embossing powder and a stamp, since I can't draw and those lines are too fine for the cricut. The batch of books I'm working through now is my first time experimenting with legal quarto size (legal size paper (8.5x14 in.) folded twice) and everyone who raved about it is right. It's very satisfying to hold and was a joy to make.

Check out the rest of my photos under the cut!

Close up of the photo corners and a view of the spine. I've never used photo corners before, partly because I don't ever see them on commercial books, but they just felt right for this project so I felt it was time to experiment. I didn't glue them down, just clamped them closed with jewelry pliers, and I was worried they wouldn't stay in place but they seem to be fine. Cardstock isn't a very hard-wearing material, and if it has a white core it tends to show at the corners of the book where it rubs against things, even under light handling. Hopefully the metal corners will protect it.

The spine title came out well. I was worried about matching the color with the embossing powder color on the front, but they came out fine and I'm very pleased.

Top view, with handmade red-and-green endbands and a green ribbon bookmark. Both of these were chosen to match the absolutely gorgeous endpapers with this mosaic flower pattern. They're chiyogami from ChibiJay and they're stunning; the photos don't do them justice. I bought them because they remind me of the stained glass windows in the Disney Beauty and the Beast. CJ has this great deal where you can make custom paper packs in pre-cut sizes for a discounted price, and they've got hundreds of patterns. This isn't sponsored, by the way, I just think they're awesome.

Some photos of the title page and first page of the story. I'm experimenting with DaFont some more. The one on the title page and for the chapter numbers is called Christmas Card, and the drop capital is called Floral Capitals, both free to use for personal projects. I've only done drop caps on a couple of projects, because for purely personal aesthetic reasons I don't like when they sink into the paragraph, but if I can mimic them by just making the first letter huge? Love that. Defintely going to keep doing that. Can never get the kerning to look right when I do it the regular way, but with this it isn't an issue.

The graphics on the title page are re-used from an older project, but they were so perfect for this one that I just went with it.

As I said above, this is my first legal quarto but it for sure won't be my last! There are three more in this batch, and they're so pleasant to hold that I'll for sure be making more before too long.

[radianxce]

— 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟏.

high heel shoes with the open toes / she's got a good time wrapped in gold for you / all red dress with the devil eyes / so obsessed with the camera lights

SIGNATURE DOOR

the door , similarly to its grymm , is made to stand out . it's a brilliant crimson , vivid and bright in a way that practically screams ' look at me ! ' . the wood beneath the paint — not that the paint ever cracks or peels , of course — is smooth and rich , carved with elegant and sweeping curves that make it appear almost larger than it is . while only one half of the door opens , it's made to look like a double door , split down the middle , with two large panels of glass creating a circular window that hints at shadow just past the door but offers no true glimpse of what may be beyond . no matter where the door stands , roses bloom on either side , climbing and tangling , deep green vines and bright red blooms embracing the doorway like they have protected it forever . they never seem to shrivel up , but they never seem to grow either : all they do is linger at the door's edges . if you're not careful , your arms may brush against the thorns hidden in the foliage . it's almost as if the door is made to beckon you in and keep you at bay at the same time — mysterious , beautiful , and compelling .

SOUL SEVER

the dha has a presence as commanding as suni — it's a traditional thai blade , beautifully crafted , almost as if centuries of craftsmanship have gone into its creation . its blade is long and just slightly curved , forged from polished steel . if one were to look closely , they would see the a faint , rippling pattern across its surface — the dance of flowing water etched into metal . the edge itself is razor - sharp , and along its length , faint engravings of the thai abugida write out prayers for protection , blessings meant to guard both the bearer and those they are bringing to the afterlife . at the point where the hilt meets the blade , a small brass ring glints under the light . the hilt itself is wrapped in black and gold , fabric woven into an intricate pattern . at the base of the hilt , a red ribbon is tied — a shock of color against the rest of the muted tones of the blade . on the top , a holy white thread is wrapped over the red ; the same traditional white thread suni remembers wearing on her left hand following her baci . she takes perfect care of it , and while she's not accustomed to using weapons , she's grown to trust this one immensely due to its familiarity and the way it is reminiscent of her home . 

DESIRED EMOJI

👠 or 💎

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S WINGS LOOK LIKE?

sunisa proudly wears the wings of a female red - and - yellow barbet . they're not absurdly large , but not too small either — simply somewhere in between , as if they were made for her body . none of the plumage has been plucked , nor does she have any scars or injuries on her wings . she takes care of them as tediously as she does the rest of her appearance . the feathers themselves are mostly dark , a shiny black that seems glossy in most lighting . she considers the feathers on the underside to be dull and drab ; they're a shade of brown that she doesn't particular adore . that said , the patterns on her wings make up for it — a smattering of delicate white spots , markings that , from a distance , almost appear to emulate a string of pearls . towards the base of the wings , a few yellow feathers peek through the brown and black , hinting at the rest of a barbet's markings .

WHAT SHAPE DOES THEIR BARDO USUALLY TAKE?

the bardo sits quietly in a sprawling wildflower field she remembers only faintly , from a rare , peaceful day in belgium . the flowers sway even when there is no breeze to move them , as if they must be as wild and unrestrained as they are beautiful . their vibrant colors stretch as far as the eye can see — or , at least , into the fog as the bardo ends . rising from the center of the field is a grand but ( outwardly ) understated house , shockingly smaller than the home she had in life but still built with the subtle touch of wealth . it looks as if it's made to host soirées , with a vast collection of hallways an rooms , windows peeking in to brightly lit spaces . inside , the house is pure 1980s' decadence. it's touched in luxurious excess , with sleek , mirrored surfaces , dark lacquered furniture , and rich , muted shades of red . paintings cover the wall , replicas of all the famous artists she so terribly admired when living . crystal chandeliers cast fractured light across rooms , which are filled with velvet and leather seating and polished marble floors . here and there , brass and glass detailing glints . despite all its moving pieces , it is almost always so cold that it feels frozen in its loneliness , an ode to a life that was just a little too perfect on the surface .

WHAT ARE THEY LIKE AT THE DEPARTMENT OF AFTERLIFE AFFAIRS?

at the department of afterlife affairs , suni prefers to stay efficient and work on her own . she's the sort of coworker who never wastes time on pleasantries — after all , who enjoys small talk — and most of her interactions quick and laced with a cool detachment , like she can't be bothered to linger for much longer than necessary . that said , she’s certainly resourceful, ambitious, and quietly calculating : while colleagues may describe her as a bit too intense , she knows how to soften herself when needed . one can predict that she'll ask for a favor when she saunters up to their desk with a rare smile and the intent to charm . it's a weapon she only pulls out when she's at a dead end, but she knows how to use it nonetheless . 

WHAT IS THEIR OPINION ON 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄?

ugh . who died and put them in charge ? seriously , though , they represent everything she despises — power she can't reach , and a reminder that even in death , she's still under someone's thumb . though she keeps that opinion to herself , being their pawn is an insult that she cannot and will not ignore . she obeys them only because it suits her now — they're a force she'll endure , only because she's waiting for the right moment to slip free of their control and reclaim what she believes is rightfully hers .

HOW DO THEY LOOK LIKE/DRESS LIKE IN THE AFTER?

suni's appearance in the after is as carefully curated as it was in life . she leans toward clean , tailored lines in black , white , and red : her wardrobe is a monochrome palette with occasional splashes of boldness in crimson . gold jewelry , pearls , and diamonds adorn her often , though she wears them with restraint , letting her mere presence do most of the talking . her outifts are meticulously chosen to radiate a timeless sort of elegance — they are each extravagant and subtle all at once , commanding attention without the need for extra flair . her makeup is sharp and clean , sometimes accentuated with a bold red lip . her eyes are often outlined with just enough darkness to draw attention to her gaze , and her hair is cropped to her collarbone , a sleek and defiant style that makes the lines of her face seem a bite more harsh . she believes she need not beg for admiration ; it's her right , and she dresses accordingly .

ARE THERE ANY RUMORS OR GOSSIP ABOUT THEM?

● it's pretty rare to see her smile ( unless she's laughing at someone ) so anytime she does , it's a bit of a commodity to her coworkers . ● she dislikes talking about her past lover , but there is lots of speculation surrounding their relationship and why she is so jaded because of it . ● when she flirts , it's usually calculated and painfully effective . she has the allure of a siren calling sailors to the water : suni knows exactly how to use her charm to get what she wants , and it's more a weapon than anything else .  ● most know that when she wants something , she won't stop until she gets it . the same is true for revenge — don't start a fight with her unless you want it to escalate .

[evieebun125]

This is art for the Prologue of How Many Second Chances Will We Get written by @adhduck​!! for @podcastbigbang​!

You can find the podfic version here  by @guinevere01

Summary:

Usually the only things capable of dragging Grizzop into sleep are either exhaustion or a begrudging acceptance that he has to rest for his spells to replenish. Tonight, his adrenaline is miles ahead of exhaustion, and he’s not getting his spells back either way, since they seem to be in an anti-magic cell, so he’s awake when it happens–-one moment, he’s squinting into the empty monochrome beyond the bars, and the next, everything is…wrong.

 Or: No one gets lost in Rome, but there are consequences to dragging your friends back through thousands of years–-namely, reliving quarantine over, and over, and over again.

[ID: A digital drawing of a Hamid Saleh Haroun Al-Tahan, Grizzop Drik Acht Amsterdam, Sasha Rackett, Eldarion, and Azu. Grizzop and Sasha stand in the center of the picture, Grizzop is injured with his hand outstretched towards Sasha. They are surrounded by 4 Cult of Hades men however their attention is centered on the prone forms of Hamid, Azu and Eldarion. They are in a poorly lit tunnel.

Starting in the center of the picture; Grizzop is a gray goblin with red eyes. His green overcoat is covered in green blood. He is wearing silver Artemis armor, beige pants, and gray leather boots.  Sasha is a slim white women with a scar covering her right side. She has dark hair and is wearing a brown leather studded jacket, black shirt, pants and boots. She has a dagger clenched in her left hand.

Behind Grizzop and Sasha are 4 Cult of Hades enforcers, they are wearing roman armor of silver and red, their helmets are gold with red feathers sticking out of the tops. They are all holding red tower shields and spears.

In the foreground, Hamid is laying atop Azu. He is an Egyptian halfling with curly brown hair and brass scales. He is wearing a green suit, purple and gold robes of ancestry and brown with gold accented heels.  Azu is a Kenyan half-orc with a shaved head, her ears and nose are pierced. She is wearing a beige dress with pink patterns underneath bright pink plate armor.  Eldarion is standing in front of hamid and Azu, she is a pale elf with curly brown hair done up in a ponytail; Her dress is blue with white ruffles. /End ID]

[majorshatterandhare]

[ID: a photo of Ben Below, Frank Voss, Jessica Law, Jonny Sims, and Morgan Wilkinson sitting or standing on a big rope swing, in costume as their Mechanisms characters. They are all smiling wide.

Ben and Morgan stand on either end. While Frank, Jessica, and Jonny sit in each of the troughs of the rope. Frank and Jonny and both sitting facing forward, while Jessica is facing towards Jonny. Behind them, green grass and trees can be seen, as well as the metal poles of playground structures around them.

Ben is wearing a white shirt under a dark patterned waistcoat, in turn under a black coat, with black trousers and brown shoes and a black top hat on his head with welding goggles around the crown as well as something green and rectangular. He has two large metal rings on his right hand. He has light skin and reddish-brown, chin length, curly hair and short facial hair. He is leaning back and seems to be using his weight to move the swing towards Morgan.

Frank is wearing a black collared shirt with a grey tie under a black waistcoat and a long black coat with black trousers. Their shoes cannot be seen. They also wear a black fedora with a red back. They have medium brown skin and chest length, straightened, brown hair. They have a long red earring visible in their left ear. They are sitting with their legs facing the viewer; they have one hand on a chain connecting the rope to the structure, while the other is reaching to another chain.

Jessica is wearing a white shirt under a black coat with red cuff, with black trousers which have red stripes down the sides, with a silver studded belt. She sits sideways on the rope swing, with her legs on either side of it, her body facing Jonny, but her face turned toward the camera. She is smiling with her mouth open and has a black curly mustache painted on her face. She has her hands on the two chains between her and Jonny and she is wearing grey and maroon stripped, magic gloves with the fingers cut-off. She has light skin and brown hair which is tucked up under her cap. The cap has a red band around is and a gold symbol on the front.

Jonny is wearing a black shirt and trousers under a brown waistcoat with a sash over it, which has a brass shape attached to it, over his heart, as well as a brown leather belt over the vest at his waist, from which a holster holding his gun hangs behind the rope swing. He appears to be kneeling on the rope and both his body and face are facing the camera. He has light skin and short light facial hair. His head hair cannot be seen as he is wearing a black hat with a brim around the whole circumference. He has dark eyeliner radiating from his eyes and a shiny silver earring in his right ear. He is holding onto one chain on either side of him

Morgan is wearing a dark red button up shirt with a muted blue and orange tie, under a black waistcoat, with a muted pink and blue microfloral skirt, over navy tights with knee high red socks and worn, tall, black boots. He has light skin and dyed red hair, which is shaved very short on the visible side, but with the sideburns left longer. He has a large, dangle-y silver heart earring in his left ear. He is holding onto the two chains that are between him and Jonny. His mouth is open like he is laughing.

End ID]

theyre all so silly this picture is so silly

where is jonny's hat from i've never seen him in a hat he looks so happy in the hat he's just a silly little guy

they all look so happy my skrunkly scrimblos are having a good time

[dreadreflection-if]

What kind of clothes does everyone wear?

Here are all the outfits, anon.😊 Hope the descriptions are okay! Clothing’s always been a bit tricky for me.😖

---

I: I’s clothes tend to be in shades of either white, brown or green. Though they are exquisitely made, they tend to be in disarray due to I’s lack of care. Ian and Isa wear breeches and loose silk shirts with embroidered waistcoats. Iris wears long dresses with fitted tops and flared waists, adorned with lace detailing. All wear short riding boots of brown leather. I’s only accessories are a pair of silver spectacles and an ornate green locket with brass detailing.

Akriel: Akriel’s clothing is bold and dashing. She favors detailed blousy shirts in all colors, tucked into dark leather riding pants that match her gloves. No matter what, she always wears: a wide-brimmed gray hat, burgundy leather riding boots, a large wolf-tooth necklace and an elaborate moss-green jacket with wide cuffs. Several rings and earrings of many shades adorn her as well.

Firan: He prefers to wear vests and loose breeches - tucked into high leather boots - with long robes or coats. His clothes are always in shades of black or deep red, and adorned with elaborate golden embroidery. The only accessory he owns is a tiny amulet of a golden dragon, kept on a similarly gold chain. One arm is covered by a dark leather vambrace, for Skeever to perch on.

Clove: Their clothing is very simple - plain loose shirts and trousers in shades of white, brown or gray. Their clothes always seems to be torn or dirtied in one way or another. They have no accessories that they carry, and seem to have a hatred for socks and shoes. Clove always wears a dark cloak with a deep hood to hide their body and face as much as they can.

E: No one has seen E without their armor on - they say they like to wear it as much as possible in case of any surprise attacks. They wear a full set of silver plate, plain except for the eclipsed sun engraved on the breastplate. A black cloak with gold edges covers their back, the clasp fashioned in the same symbol. The longsword strapped to their waist and towering shield they carry are the only accessories they need.

Lei: She wears plain laced shirts covered by black leather armor, with tall boots and many belts to hold her weapons. Her hands are covered with leather gloves, and a long black cloak rests on her shoulders. There is no ornamentation to any of her clothing - all of it is designed for practicality. A small golden bell threaded through a red cord is the only accessory she carries.

Dimitrius: Everything Dimitrius wears is black: the only color in his outfit is the gold of his piercings and rings. A loose laced shirt and fitted breeches are covered by knee-high leather boots and an open cropped vest, all underneath a long overcoat and scarf. His gloves are cut off at the fingers to make it easier to sign. His golden tattoos begin at his throat and travel along the rest of his body, down to his toes.

Noel: They like to wear dark leather breeches and silk shirts, favoring dark blue, gray or white colors. Their shirts are usually covered by a dark leather vest, as well as a long belt to hold their many concealed knives. They wear tall leather boots, and a knee-length gray coat with a large collar. Her only accessories are a silk cravat and a silver walking cane she always carries.

Uriel: Her style can only be described as lavish. Lacey silk shirts with ruffles and flared sleeves, embroidered high-waisted breeches, long skirts of velvet or brocade - if it looks expensive, Uriel will wear it. She favors bright shades of red and pink, coupled with glittering jewelry of every color. The one consistent piece is a dark crystal earring he wears that seems to shine with stars.

[tabletoptrinketsbyjj]

Trinkets, Rings, 3: Enough rings and bands to wear three on every finger and toe while still having dozens to spare. Rings, especially magic rings are a very common item of jewelry in fiction and roleplaying. From a basic ring of protection, to the life saving ring of regeneration, the ring of the Nibelungs, the rings of the lantern corps, the ring of Gyges, any wedding ring ever depicted, the ring of Solomon, Sir Perceval’s ring, Aladdin’s genie housing ring, the nine rings of mortal men and the precious one ring of power, these small circular pieces of gems, metal, wood or bone always add more to the story than the sum of their parts. None of these rings are intensely magical in their own right but can serve as basis for a magical or plot relevant ring. When a DM rolls a d100, the bog standard ring of protection +1 they were going to give out now has a unique look and personality rather than just a mechanical benefit.

A big heavy ring made of sterling silver. On the face of the ring is a skull the size of a large man’s thumb, run through with a lance and a flag fluttering around it. Knowledgeable PC’s will recognize the sigil as that of the Mad Lancer’s an infamous cavalry unit that was a force of nature as much as a military company.

An onyx ring set with a shimmering opal, from which a thin line of black smoke continuously billows forth.

A shinning brass signet ring that proudly displays a raised fist against a red starburst. Knowledge PC's will recognize the sigil as the symbol of a paladin order known as the Boros Legion. There's a weight to it that belies its size, a weight of strength and of pride.

A cheap-looking tin ring that has a small dial adorned with letters of the alphabet that can be aligned with various strange pictographs. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize it as a decoder ring and can be used to decipher texts that were written using this specific ring or a twin of it.

A ring comprised of two interlocking bands, one gold engraved with a motifs of laughing faces and the other granite with a motif of faces set in stony silence.

A lead ring bearing engravings of an otherworldly entity spreading its unnatural gifts.

Ring of Fire Detection: A pure white ring set with a transparent red gemstone. The gemstone will light up and emit a piercing sound if the ring comes into direct contact with fire, magical or otherwise.

A simple black ring is polished to a shine, and written in gold lettering around the outer band is the phrase "I am better off healed than I ever was unbroken."

A crudely made gold ring set with a huge green gemstone that glows faintly even in full daylight.

An iron ring set with a dark ruby of great size and splendor. Within its heart flickers a mysterious flame, entrapped there in ages past by a masterful mage.

—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A big heavy ring made of sterling silver. On the face of the ring is a skull the size of a large man’s thumb, run through with a lance and a flag fluttering around it. Knowledgeable PC’s will recognize the sigil as that of the Mad Lancer’s an infamous cavalry unit that was a force of nature as much as a military company.

An onyx ring set with a shimmering opal, from which a thin line of black smoke continuously billows forth.

A shinning brass signet ring that proudly displays a raised fist against a red starburst. Knowledge PC's will recognize the sigil as the symbol of a paladin order known as the Boros Legion. There's a weight to it that belies its size, a weight of strength and of pride.

A cheap-looking tin ring that has a small dial adorned with letters of the alphabet that can be aligned with various strange pictographs. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize it as a decoder ring and can be used to decipher texts that were written using this specific ring or a twin of it.

A ring comprised of two interlocking bands, one gold engraved with a motifs of laughing faces and the other granite with a motif of faces set in stony silence.

A lead ring bearing engravings of an otherworldly entity spreading its unnatural gifts.

Ring of Fire Detection: A pure white ring set with a transparent red gemstone. The gemstone will light up and emit a piercing sound if the ring comes into direct contact with fire, magical or otherwise.

A simple black ring is polished to a shine, and written in gold lettering around the outer band is the phrase "I am better off healed than I ever was unbroken."

A crudely made gold ring set with a huge green gemstone that glows faintly even in full daylight.

An iron ring set with a dark ruby of great size and splendor. Within its heart flickers a mysterious flame, entrapped there in ages past by a masterful mage.

A thin ring made of two intertwining strands of silver and gold, both ornate and simple in appearance.

A silver ring in the shape of a spider whose legs clasp around the wearer’s finger and whose body is a yellowish gem.

An unassuming copper ring clean and shiny like a new penny, it has dozens of smiling faces faintly carved into its surface.

A silver ring with golden ram's horns curling around the edge of its crown.

A bog iron ring with a poem in Druidic on the inside.

An onyx ring. When tapped three times, a faint blue light shows the symbol of an assassin’s guild.

A pair of black iron body piercing rings, with a chain linking them.

A copper ring with a small clear gem that shimmers slightly even in the dark. It is badly crafted with scuffs and scratches along the loop and yet there is something quaint about it that suggests more value than the first impression would suggest.

A silver banded ring with a single white gem encased in the center. Etched into the surface are ancient glyphs, binding its power to an individual to be used as a focus. The head of the ring is a flat surface which is adorned with an intricate ritualistic circle design.

A lavender ring with a cosmic gemstone faceted into it. The gem moves and glows like outer space, and has a spiral vortex pattern along its edges.

An iron signet ring whose symbol can be changed once per day by the bearer. The image must be something the bearer has seen and remembers clearly.

A crystalline ring in the shape of a dragon, that changes based on the bearer’s emotional state.

A gold ring whose Randomly Colored gemstone levitates just out of the socket, following wherever the ring goes.

A platinum ring that has a large blue sapphire embedded in the band. When the bearer looks into the stone, he can see a perfect reflection of himself that appears to have a life all of its own. Engraved on the inside of the band one can see a message that reads; "Never lose sight of your true self".

A single human tooth encased in a brass ring, inscribed with a twin-tailed comet. Knowledge PC’s will recognize it as a holy reliquary of a relatively famous prophet and devout follower of the God of the Outer Stars.

An oxidized copper ring etched with ancient hieroglyphs that tell a timeless fable.

A brass ring set with an oversized, round brown bezoar for a gemstone. Extremely ugly, by modern standards.

A heavy silver ring with a flat, round head. A cap lifts off the top, revealing a folded-down needle, which may be lifted into place, and the markings of a sundial around it. None of the marks, all twiggy, natural shapes, correspond to modern notation, save the fact there are 12.

A ruby ring, heavy, plain, and gold, set with a fat, badly cut ruby that's entirely stuck on a finger bone. In modern times, it would be a man’s thumb ring, though an ugly one. The band surrounds a thick finger bone and won’t come off (But could be chiseled out) as the knuckles are knobby and too wide. The bone is fragile with age, and conspicuously blackened.

A signet ring, quite wide, made of cast iron. The signet face is that of a beaked skull, one halfway between that of a human and a crow. The ring is too wide for a human to wear and seems to have been designed for a finger twice that size.

A horrific black ring that turns translucent when submerged in a water and uncoils into a slippery, leech-like tentacle when unworn.

A wide, red brass ring, that's plain, on the exterior. There is lettering inside the band, raised and sharp. If worn on a clenched fist, the lettering digs painfully into its finger, leaving the word "memento" imprinted in red welts.

A mithral ring, engraved with a pattern of rolling waves that encircles the entire band. The ring is immune to rust, both from natural oxidation and rust caused by magical effects.

A steel ring that carries the sign of an armorers’ guild: a stylized helmet with visor, two crossed swords and the rune “A” engraved beneath them.

A lapis colored gemstone embedded into a ring that is stylized with the alchemical symbol of a circle inside a square, inside a triangle, inside another circle.

A mysterious ring; ancient, covered in runes. After spending some minutes sniffing, touching, and examining the thing, the bearer can safely say it exudes an aura of magic. When worn is makes the bearer's hairs stand on end and sparks jump between the metal and his fingers.

A ring carved from a single solid gemstone that glows with an inner light and pulses with its wielder’s heartbeat.

A simple pale stone that sits atop a plain steel band, flickering every so often with unknown power.

A simple gold band studded with blue diamonds. Knowledgeable PC’s will recognize it as a ring of office for the Grand Vizier, the highest advisor to a great rajah.

Ring of Bubbles: A delicate ring made of multicolored glass. When this ring is held between two fingers and dipped it into a solution of soap and water, a creature can blow through it to produce dozens of fist sized, glowing, technicolor bubbles which are difficult to pop and last for up to a minute.

Ring of the Firebuilder: A ring made of worked flint. When struck with a piece of steel, it sheds sparks that are able to ignite objects as normal. The sparks created from the ring never harm the bearer, who gains Advantage on igniting objects with the ring.

A ring crafted of simple silver. The band is etched with different letters from all languages of the realms, some unrecognizable to any living person.

A thickly banded ring made of black steel. It sits heavy on the bearer's finger never feeling fully comfortable.

A sapphire banded in gold with a loop of string around it to go around the bearer's neck. The inside of the gem appears to be filled with flowing water that swirls and sloshes magnificently inside the sapphire.

A pewter ring with an inlaid gold band that slowly rotates.

A band of tarnished silver bearing no ornament or inscription, but is icy cold to the touch. The patches of dark corrosion on the ring subtly move and change. This never occurs while anyone observes the ring, but happens constantly.

A gold ring shaped in the form of a manacle, uncomfortably tight regardless of how it's worn.

A brass band in the shape of a dragon’s claw, scuffed and tarnished with age and frequent use.

A ring made from woven lead and silver.

A brass ring, set with rubies and engraved with fire runes, holds a lens of orange-red crystal that has an esoteric circle lightly etched in the glass.

A ring of silver green mithril engraved with runes from the enchantment school of magic. Though plain looking, the edges of the band are decorated with an intricate design of miniaturized knotwork.

An oversized ancient golden ring bears the silver hawk crest of the Yragerne family line on its large flat top.

An ornate golden ring set with a perfect square-cut emerald. A noble insignia on both sides of the gem features two eagles flying in opposite directions.

A platinum ring in the shape of a coiled snake. Its eyes are two perfectly cut rubies. The ring has a mesmerizing aura that attracts the eyes of the greedy and the vain. Only a person with clear desires and unclouded wants is unaffected by its allure.

A dwarven-forged amethyst ring bearing the inscription “Cracked from the hammer of the Forge-Father”

A garnet ring that causes the bearer’s hand to appear to be clawed and demonic.

A signet ring that will magically re-size itself to fit the wearer, but only if the wearer is a direct descendant of the creator of the ring.

A rose gold ring that, when put on, periodically gives the wearer the distinct feeling that he or she is forgetting something important.

A platinum ring set with an opal cracked in a star pattern, like a tiny sun when the light passes through it.

A simple black ring polished to a shine, and written in gold lettering around the outer band is the phrase "Three things cannot be long hidden: the Sun, the Moon, and the Truth.

A bizarre looking ring that could easily be mistaken for a piece of forest debris. Its thorn covered surface throbs with the sensation of a beating heart when placed on the left ring finger.

Sphinx Ring: A small band with a little head of a lion, made of limestone. By stroking the band while worn, the lion whispers a riddle based on events which its bearer has witnessed, and the riddles can vary widely in difficulty, from simple riddles to questions only previous bearers could logically answer. If the answer is correct, the ring purrs, while if incorrect, it roars. It is mostly used to pass the time during long travels, but nobles have been known to use them in party games.

A transparent ring of blue-green resin that smells of strange magical forests. The band is slick to the touch, but never slips off of a finger accidentally.

An unassuming bronze ring that seems less than spectacular in every way and boasts no gems to speak of on its surface. However, within the band lies a diamond pressing softly against the bearer's skin.

A rusty iron ring that appears to show a dusty landscape within it, changing as it’s moved. The finger the ring is worn on always feels warm and dry.

A sealing ring, with the image of a smiling, winking imp.

A band carved from a single chunk of raw amethyst, capped with a black pearl in a truesilver setting. In darkness, the ring glows with a faint purple hue.

A ring whose outer edge has six flat edges, so that it presents a hexagonal appearance. One of the sides bears a setting carved of obsidian, topped by a small black diamond

A ring that is more like a wrap designed to completely encase the bearer’s finger. It is formed of what appears to be a thin sheet of platinum laced with spidery gold webbing. Once slid over a finger, the covering becomes as flexible as cloth and stays in place until the bearer removes it.

A ring consisting of a truesilver core surrounded by a torus of azure ice coated in a slick sheen, as though in the process of melting. The ring is cold to the touch and though the ice remains slippery, it never melts and the ring is never in danger of slipping off the finger unexpectedly.

A ring crafted from pure white gold encrusted with speck- sized fragments of diamond. When held to the light, it produces a prismatic effect, sparkling and gleaming with all the colors of the rainbow.

A ring made entirely of silver, intricately carved in fine patterns. Four small opals are set into the surface at regular intervals. When the ring is worn, they slowly orbit the finger without ever leaving the band.

A black ring made from a single piece of obsidian and bears a gold inlay design of chains.

A ring made up of filaments of bone and black iron of various thicknesses, twisted together in a strange mottled composite.  

A ring carved from moonstone in the shape of a miniature, cable-twisted torc. The end-caps of the "torc" rest where a signet would be, each mounting a tiny, curved feline claw cast from silver.

A signet ring made of heavy lead with a distinctively abnormal design carved into it.

A brass ring encasing a small, polished moldavite.

A silver ring made out of very fine wire worked into rather complicated decorative ornament.

An ornate brass signet ring with a coiled serpent design with two freshwater pearls for eyes. The ring has a poison pill compartment that is currently empty.

A small copper ring, inset with flawed pearls.

A ring made out of blond hair and porcelain braided together. Wearing it slowly causes the bearer to experience apathy towards everything.

A mysterious bronze ring, ancient and marked with eldritch signs.

A pewter ring in the shape of a crab with its claws pressed to its body and the legs forming the ring. The shell, claws, and legs of the crab are set with polished abalone and the eyes are tiny garnets.

An adamantine ring is set with a cabochon cut water opal.

A platinum ring set with a large diamond surrounded by a circle of smaller sapphires and rubies. The gems gleam brightly in even the dullest light. An inscription on the inside of the band reads simply “for Alenea” in Elven.

A larger than average ring that looks like sheets of gold woven together into a simple pattern. Despite its size, ring feels almost weightless. On the inside of the ring there is an engraved; "A.Z."

A silver ring encrusted with dark gems. Upon inspection the ring itself smells of earth, mud and worms.

A brass ring that is crudely constructed with dent marks and battle burns.

A lapis colored gemstone embedded into a ring that is stylized with the alchemical symbol of a circle inside a square, inside a triangle, inside another circle.

A simple bronze ring sized for a giant's finger.

A plain-looking wooden ring with no characteristic marks or engravings. It almost looks as though the carpenter who fashioned it never got around to finishing it.

A copper ring shaped like knotted brambles.

A copper ring shaped like a dragon clutching its own tail, holding a moonstone it its mouth.

A petrified stone fist wearing a golden ring. It is impossible to remove the ring without destroying the fist.

A silver ring shaped like rolled arrow.

A bone ring with a deep purple inlay, set with an onyx.

An emerald ring that gives the bearer an abnormally strong sense of balance. The bearer is rendered immune from mundane vertigo effects such as dizziness from heights or seasickness.

A black stone ring made for the middle finger of a man's hand. The band is carved in the shape of a vine with thorns.

An iron band flecked with onyx pieces and is always cold to the touch.

A rough-hewn silver band with a single purple stone inset. No matter how long it is held, it is cold to the touch. While worn, the bearer occasionally hears strange dissonant whispers in Deep Speech promising power and domination over others.

[virtueangel]

limitless.

chapter four.

wc: 3,109. original publish date: october 7, 2020. 

JFK starts the car forty-five minutes later. He turns the key in the ignition cautiously, silently begging the car not to make too much noise. Van Gogh is asleep in the passenger's seat. The car whirrs to life and Kennedy doesn't rev the engine this time. He turns to Van Gogh and smiles slightly. He realises for the first time that the boy is wearing his old junior varsity cross-country jacket.

***

Van Gogh wakes up some time later. He stretches before opening his eyes. He rubs the sleep out of them as they adjust to the darkness. The cool outside air seeps in through the windows and suddenly he wishes he'd brought gloves. Gogh plunges his balled fists into the pockets of Kennedy's -- his -- letterman jacket. The boy inhales deeply through his nose as he takes in the scenery, seeing nothing but pine trees lining the outstretch of the quiet highway in front of them. There are no cars in sight. No buildings or houses or rest stops. There are a few white markers shoved into the ground next to the road, but most of them are bent or broken -- probably from swerving cars crushing them out of shape.

"Where are we?" He asks in his small voice, foggy sleep still tugging at his throat.

JFK turns his head ever so slightly, as if to make sure his best friend is really awake and he's not just hearing things. Satisfied with the reality of the boy, he nods toward the built-in GPS screen. "One hundred three miles outside of Exclamation!," he replies.

Van Gogh furrows his brow at the machine. "Yeah, but I mean where."

"I just told you."

Gogh gives up and sits back in his seat. He opens his mouth to nag Kennedy about turning on the seat heater, but the button is already illuminated. He smiles to himself.

"How long have you been driving?" He asks a couple minutes later, his eyelids weighing down again.

Kennedy scrunches up his nose. "Over an hour."

"I was asleep the whole time?"

JFK nods in affirmation. Van Gogh stares at his side profile, his eyes tracing his pointy nose and thin lips. His gel is wearing off, causing his brown hair to flop around his ears and the top of his head a little bit. Kennedy blinks slowly, and Gogh does the same, almost in solidarity.

"Are you tired?"

JFK shakes his head, but he's squinting.

"You're tired," Gogh decides. He's only met with a shrug.

"Let me drive," he tries daringly.

Suddenly, Kennedy is miraculously alert. He straightens his back and he opens his eyes up fully. "You can't drive, Van Gogh. You don't know how."

Van Gogh shrugs, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "You could teach me."

The car fills up with silence again, but it's a different kind than when Van Gogh was asleep and JFK was lost in his own head.

Van Gogh tilts the face of his digital wristwatch upwards to read the time. "It's 11:30, Kennedy."

"Is it?" He asks absently.

"We should stop somewhere. We could both sleep."

"I don't even know where we are," JFK protests.

Van Gogh rolls his eyes. "You're the one who said we didn't need a plan."

Kennedy nods, his motions sticking with the rebuff of tiredness. "I haven't seen any signs for miles. Think we should just get off somewhere?"

Van Gogh shrugs agreeably. "I don't see why not."

JFK pulls down his turn signal and the car hums with melodic clicks as he changes lanes. He slows down the vehicle each time he passes over the dotted white lines even though they have the highway all to themselves. He follows the rules when he's alone -- Van Gogh can't help but think that's something he was never supposed to know.

Kennedy exits the highway seamlessly, and stops the car at the intersection. The traffic light is glowing red even though all the other lanes are empty. Van Gogh always thought there was some sort of censor in the road that knew when cars were pulled up to the lines, waiting to be dictated through the intersection. He wonders when he'd started thinking that, who'd told him, if it was true. He pulls the cuffs of Kennedy's -- his -- letterman jacket over his hands and brings his knees to his chest, balling himself up in the warmth of the seat heater. Even with no snow on the ground, the town of God-Knows-Where is having as harsh of an April as Exclamation! is.

The town looks just like every common roadside stop -- clean sidewalks, towering lampposts with chipping paint, empty convenience store parking lots sprinkled with litter, barren gas stations lit by buzzing yellow lights. In the dead of night, the whole world freezes and the town looks like a photograph on a gift shop postcard. Van Gogh wishes he'd packed his camera so he could capture it in all its drowsily nostalgic glory.

Finally the traffic light glows green and Kennedy turns left, driving the car into the centre of town. There's a park with chemically green grass, visible even under the moonlight alone. In the middle of the lawn is a white statue that seems to be made of marble.

"That's just cement," Van Gogh says.

"Hm?"

He points out the window. "That statue. It's supposed to look like marble but it's not actually."

JFK nods, and then smiles. "That's kinda dumb."

Van Gogh smiles in return and sneaks a glance at the boy. "Yeah, it is."  

With a controlled turn of the steering wheel, the car glides blissfully around the park. Kennedy continues to drive, but slower than the speed limit. Van Gogh, balled up and shaking from the cold, still manages to stare out the window at the sleepy neighbourhood, wrapped in a blanket of the night. Some of the houses have their porch lights on. Some have cars parked in the driveway, others on the street. All of the houses look the same, and it reminds Van Gogh of his own neighbourhood, only posher. The houses are two stories and their porches are made out of poured concrete rather than splintering wood. The doors have brass knockers and the windows are French, full of panes and feminine glass. Van Gogh wouldn't mind living in a photocopied world if it was at least a picturesque one.

"Do you think there'll be a motel in this town?" JFK asks, penetrating Gogh's quiet bewilderment.

He turns his attention away from the window and onto the driver. "Probably not a motel, but maybe some small family-owned inn."

"I don't see one."

"That's because you're in the residential part of the town," Van Gogh scoffs, the magic of the anemoia wearing off. "It'll probably be back where the gas station and stuff was."

When Kennedy turns toward Van Gogh, he looks almost disappointed.

"You wanna look at the houses some more, Gogh?"

Gogh shakes his head, but the movement is mechanical. His eyelids drop and he has to blink fast to keep himself alert.

Kennedy sighs in serenity rather than exasperation and pulls into the driveway of one of the cookie-cutter houses to make a three-point turn. He reverses the direction of the car with ease and continues through the town, driving slowly enough to quiet the noise of the engine but quickly enough to get Van Gogh into a bed before he can fall asleep in the car.

The inn is small and the parking lot is empty of all cars. Unlike the convenience store parking lot, this one is clean, and the bushes along the sidewalk and the edge of the lot are perfectly manicured. JFK pulls into the spot closest to the long, wooden stairs leading up to the porch. The building looks almost like a house from the outside, only longer,  like a mansion made of common shingles and dusty edges.

The sign doesn't have a full or vacant indicator on it, but Kennedy guesses it's the latter due to the nature of the parking lot. He reaches over and rests a hand on Van Gogh's shoulder gently. Van Gogh blinks and looks up at him, his eyes wide with innocence. Kennedy smiles softly. "I found an inn."

Van Gogh unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the car door. JFK does the same on his side of the vehicle and they walk up the stairs together. The wooden porch groans under their weight and Van Gogh steps the rest of the way across it quickly, a nagging thought in the back of his mind telling him it'll break if they don't get off of it soon.

JFK pushes through the door of the inn first and holds it for Van Gogh. He huddles close to the taller boy as he walks, his stomach somersaulting with each step he takes. The inside of the inn is dimly lit and furnished with consonant floral wallpaper, every wall a different pattern and colour. The lobby itself isn't very large: room just enough for a fireplace decorated with pictures of past tenants on one wall, a congregation of chairs and a game table set in front of it; a wide, dark hallway across from it, where Van Gogh can just barely make out the white railing of a grand staircase; a tall bookshelf exploding with leather bound novels, complete with shiny gold lettering snaking down the spines on the third wall; and on the fourth, a bored woman collapsed against a desk, a clunky old computer in front of her and a stack of travel guides by her elbow. She's tall, lean, and pale, with short magenta hair and a face full of piercings. In this light, she looks like Joan of Arc -- but Van Gogh knows she's back at home in Exclamation!, probably spending her Friday night sulking.

The girl doesn't react even as JFK steps up to the desk. He leans against it, batting his lashes at her in his overly flirtatious nature. Van Gogh rolls his eyes and walks up next to his friend to ring the bell, stomping his heel down on it.

"Hi there. What can I do for you?" The girl drones in a monotonous voice.

"We'd like a room," Gogh says before JFK can make a snarky comment.

"Great. How many beds?" She asks, still in her flat tone.

Van Gogh can see Kennedy turn toward him to consult out of the corner of his eye, but impulsively answers the girl before he can talk to JFK. "Two."

The girl sucks on one of her snake bites as she punches the keys on the slow computer. Van Gogh watches her intently now, wondering if this is one of her anxious habits. She seems to fidget with her piercing the way JFK chews gum.

"You look like my friend," Van Gogh blurts suddenly, not sure why he felt the need to tell her, or why he referred to Joan of Arc as his "friend". He's talked to her once or twice on the teen crisis hotline (which Kennedy could never know about), and she's JFK's friend, but Van Gogh doesn't have time to think about making friends. John F. Kennedy is enough for him.

"Oh, yeah?" The girl replies absently.

Van Gogh doesn't say anything more. JFK's smile fades.

"Okay, here you are," she says, pulling a key off one of the nails stuck into the wall behind her and handing it to Kennedy. "Room one-oh-four."

"You have one hundred four rooms in this place?" Gogh asks.

The girl shrugs. "Probably not. I think the rooms start in the triple digits."

"That's dumb," Kennedy replies, and Van Gogh wonders if he'd said it himself since he'd opened his mouth.

Thankfully, the girl -- secretary? -- doesn't take offence. "Yeah, I think so too. But I guess there's more ring to the three-digit numbers than anything else."

"How much?" Kennedy asks, pulling his wallet out of the pocket of his letterman jacket.

"How many nights?"

"One," Van Gogh says before he or Kennedy can think.

"Like twenty-six dollars? I don't know. No one ever stays here."

"What town are we in, anyway?" JFK asks, swiping his card through the machine.

"Blackbox."

"Well, I'd say that's why no one ever stays here," Van Gogh retorts.

The girl's eyes narrow. "Why? Where are you two from?" She scrutinises the boys.

"Exclamation!," Kennedy replies.

"With an exclamation point on the end," Gogh admits.

The girl laughs. "Oh man, and you're criticising this town?"

Both boys stare at her blankly. She rolls her eyes and pulls a travel guide out from the stack next to her. She fishes a pen out of one of the drawers on her side of the desk and bites the cap off with her teeth. She holds the plastic piece in her mouth as she scribbles something down. When she's finished, she sets the pen on the desk and takes the cap out from her teeth before covering the pen with it and throwing it back into the drawer. She flips around the guide so it faces Kennedy and Gogh.

"This is Marshtown," she says, pointing at a circled spot on the map with her finger.

"Is there a marsh there?" Van Gogh asks. "It's a lazy name either way."

The girl takes a moment to think, sucking on her snake bite again. "I think so. But it might've gotten its name because it's foggy there all the time -- like, all the time. There's no ocean to blow a breeze over or anything. I think it's just like that. But anyway, you should check it out. Think this place is creepy?"

Both Kennedy and Van Gogh nod without looking at each other.

The girl smirks, and continues. "If you want a real kick, go there. I've been there with my boyfriend a few times."

"Oh, we're not-" the boys start to explain at the same time, their cheeks glowing pink and their temperatures rising.

The secretary girl smirks again. "Whatever. It'd still be fun to go."

Kennedy pulls his card out of the reader as it beeps. To the girl, he says, "thanks." He turns to Van Gogh, handing him the door key. "Go find our room. I'll go get our bags from the car."

Van Gogh opens his mouth to protest, but Kennedy is looking at him with his intense stare again. He decides to let it go. He nods, mumbles a quick "thank you" to the secretary, and heads toward the grand staircase. He shudders as he walks through the darkness, the cold suddenly burrowing deeper than it did when he was outside. He pulls Kennedy's -- his -- letterman jacket more tightly around him.

He climbs the staircase, the wood hard beneath his Keds. Van Gogh trails his hand along the railing as he walks, steadying himself as he observes all the gold-framed paintings hung along the wall. They're all oil-painted people he's never seen before -- very much different from Exclamation!, where he's met the clone of all the people in the paintings. These faces look respectable, but common, like they're only made to seem like they're important. Van Gogh exhales. Maybe it would be nicer here, where he isn't constantly reminded of how he'll never be the man whose DNA he shares.

Eventually, Gogh makes it to the top of the stairs and pries his interest away from the paintings. There's a sign tacked to the wall directly in front of him: rooms one hundred through one hundred fifty to his left, rooms one hundred fifty-one through two hundred on his right. He turns left and walks almost all the way to the end of the hall, turning to open the door marked one hundred four. The key slides into the lock easily, but the door takes an extra push to open.

Inside is the same hideously mismatched wallpaper as the lobby and atrociously unclean carpet as the hallways. There are two queen beds side by side with their headboards against the wall to the left of the door. Where the wallpaper peels, Van Gogh can tell that the room itself is painted a mossy green, which clashes with the already clashing patterned duvet covers on the beds. There's one window shielded by sheer white curtains and an old white space heater beneath the windowsill. There's no desk, but there's a stone fireplace on the wall across from the beds. Thankfully, there are no framed pictures of past tenants. Van Gogh couldn't sleep with them watching him.

The boy steps all the way into the room and closes the door behind him. In the space behind the door is another door. He pushes it open. It leads into a large bathroom, complete with a heavy mirror and speckled yellow tile on the floor and lining the shower wall. Van Gogh closes that door and looks around the room, feeling that there's something missing.

There's no closet or dresser. Great. Good thing they're only staying one night, because he'll have to live out of his suitcase. He can't stand to think that he'll have to refold all the clothes he rifles through after getting dressed each morning.

Gogh claims the bed closest to the window and sits in the middle of it. He's just begun to untie his shoes when the door pushes open. Van Gogh sinks in on himself, terrified of what could be trying to break in.

"Relax, relax! It's only me," Kennedy laughs, throwing his hands up in defeat.

Van Gogh scrunches his nose. "Took you long enough."

Kennedy pushes Van Gogh's brown suitcase and it rolls across the carpet to him. "Here. I thought you might want this."

"Thanks," Gogh mutters, pulling off his shoes and sliding off the bed.

***

By the time JFK and Van Gogh have showered and changed into bed-appropriate clothing, it's nearly 1:15 in the morning.

"We should go to sleep," Kennedy suggests, sitting up in bed and readying himself to go turn off the light.

Van Gogh shakes his head. "No. I'm wide awake now."

Kennedy gives him sleepy eyes, still holding himself up on his elbows. "How long do you need?"

In the low lighting, JFK is made of soft edges and rounded corners. His mound of brown hair is fully flopping over his face now without the gel, and every thirty seconds or so the boy has to push it out of his eyes. The collar of his grey Harvard shirt hangs off of his neck to reveal his collarbones, and his eyes are heavy with sleep. Van Gogh's pencil scratches against his sketchbook.

"Fifteen minutes," Kennedy mandates.

Van Gogh takes another look at the boy and smiles. "Fine by me."

He starts to draw.

[mythgirlimagines]

Spawning directly into your inbox, is this week’s talentswapped Myth. It’s Myth, former Ultimate Gamer. Or as the MMO circle calls her, [ATHENA] the Guardian.

——————————————————-

BACKSTORY AND TALENT

Being born with both scoliosis and a weak constitution, Myth spent most of her childhood bedridden and homeschooled. In order to entertain their daughter, Myth’s parents decided to gift her with their hand-me-down video game consoles and cartridges, and she managed to beat every single one of those console games with ease, breaking gaming records and forcing her parents to search online for some more games. Eventually, when Myth got her first laptop in her early teen years, she rose to the top of the MMORPG ranks, particularly with the famous MMORPG “Mythology and Mightiness” as [ATHENA] the Guardian. Myth was later accepting into Hope’s Peak for her skills and money earned in gaming competitions, but Myth doesn’t really attend much. Nowadays, Myth is trying her best to come out of her shell and socialize. Let’s just say that Myth encountered some eccentric colorful personalities, both in Mythology and Mightiness and the game’s group chat.

————-——————————————

RELATIONSHIPS

(Note: Because Myth’s never met any of them face to face, this section would only describe the clothes of their online persona.)

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Photographer, aka. [SNAPSHOT] the Grenadier

When ATHENA first joined the servers of Mythology and Mightiness, SNAPSHOT‘s party was the first party that accepted her. Even when the party disbanded later on, ATHENA and SNAPSHOT made quite the dynamic duo, with SNAPSHOT on offense and ATHENA on defense. Whenever SNAPSHOT gets a bit too reckless and goes off to fight bigger foes, ATHENA will always jump in front of Wyre and tank the damage. ATHENA would be lying if she said she didn’t have a slight online crush on SNAPSHOT. SNAPSHOT regularly shares the pictures she took around the world in the game’s group chat, much to IRL!Myth’s envy.

In-Game Outfit: Black vest over a tanned shirt with spiked shoulderpads, black fingerless gloves and matching polish, a camo-colored cannon strapped to her side.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Lucky Student, aka. [KUROBA] the Sorcerer

Myth first encountered KUROBA in the dark and spooky woods that are full of high level enemies. KUROBA then started spamming the messaging boards with dramatic monologues that would be right at home in a shonen anime. KUROBA refers to herself as “The Supreme High Sorceress” and refers to others by equally grandiose titles. It turns out later that she turns the dramatic theatrics off if one of her allies is in danger, being almost like a mother to her allies. ATHENA noticed that KUROBA has spectacularly bad luck when it comes to combat, and she often has to jump in to save her bacon, much to the sorcerer‘s dismay. 

In-Game Outfit: A black hooded cape that is held by a green clover amulet, black face mask, sharp black eyeshadow, black fingerless gloves, black vest over a red shirt, torn black pants, black spiked boots.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Mechanic, aka. [TECHNO] the Grenadier

Similar to KUROBA, TECHNO displays parental instincts beyond his age, constantly fretting over his teammates and offers support in times of need. If he sees a foe picking on one of his lower level friends/children, he will not hesitate to blast the foe from a distance. ATHENA and TECHNO bond over their love for technology and dad jokes, constantly exchanging each other some of their best jokes, much to the dismay of certain pun-hating people in the group chat. However, TECHNO seems to be be naive when it comes to modern internet culture and ATHENA tries her best to guide him through her meme and Vine references. 

In-Game Outfit: Red armor, golden pauldrons, blue gloves with yellow details, a blue cape with an elaborate gear design on the back, brown goggles on his head, dual guns that are the same color as his outfit.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Gymnast, aka. [ROBBIN] the Thief

ATHENA and ROBBIN really make quite the pair when it comes to combat, with ROBBIN‘s speed and ATHENA’s durability being a nice combination to have. They also get along well in the group chat too, often exchanging memes and meme references, much to the confusion of TECHNO and LILAC. But they have an extra-special kinship that no one else in the group chat knows about. Deep down, they both feel like everyone would be disappointed if they found out about the awkward nerd playing the role of the awesome and confident online character, especially since Fusion II became an athlete to hide her nerdiness in the first place.

In-Game Outfit: A Robin Hood-esque hat, a black vest over a white dress shirt, red cape that covers her lower face, black pants, black heeled boots. 

Just Anon, Ultimate Musician, aka. [ANON] the Bard

ANON seems to really have something against ATHENA, or anybody older than him, for that matter, for he always attacks his elder party members with his axe guitar and his dark bard magic. ANON regularly makes a point to brag about how edgy, cool and stoic he is, which seems to imply that he has a massive inferiority complex from being constantly underestimated for his class, which might have some basis in real life. However, she eventually found out that ANON has a real soft spot for people younger/weaker than him, such as MUSCLE and ODORI, and ANON was redeemed in ATHENA’s eyes, much to ANON’s dismay. 

In-Game Outfit: Black and red dyed hair, smudged black makeup, a cape that’s black on the outside and red on the inside that his held by a pink bunny clasp, the formal wear from his original design, holds a black and red guitar that is also an axe.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Princess, aka. [LUMINA] the Guardian

When ATHENA first encountered a fellow guardian, she was overjoyed. That joy only skyrocketed when LUMINA was revealed to be Sparkle, the crowned princess of the tropical island known as “Lumina”. Myth feels like she doesn‘t deserve to be graced by the presence of a literal princess. Sparkle claims that she wants to make the most of her time, before she gets promoted to being Lumina’s queen and getting swamped with royal responsibilities. Similar to TECHNO, LUMINA isn’t very skilled in the realm of internet slang and culture due to being foreign, which means that ATHENA and ROBBIN have to teach her about it. 

In-Game Outfit: Bulky blue armor and gauntlets covered in gemstones, pauldrons, leggings, cape and boots from original design. 

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Animal Breeder, aka. [YIN] the Ranger, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Reserve Course Student aka. [YANG] the Ranger

ATHENA regularly encounters this cursed duo in random places around the expansive map, and no matter where they are, the two are always prepared to spam her with cursed comments and images and then stealthily leave, as if nothing even happened, with one of YIN’s feather knives being their trademark calling card. Myth expresses annoyance at the duo for giving her even more nightmares than she already has with their unwarranted comments and presence. At least the two regularly remind their party members to get a good night’s rest, but the nightmarish and cursed comments kind of nullify the whole thing in ATHENA’s eyes.

In-Game Outfit: Egg wears a white hooded cloak with black fluff, over a white vest with a black undershirt, white pants, and saddle shoes, and Wet Sock wears the inverse. 

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Yakuza, aka. [MUSCLE] the Brawler

Originally from an abusive party, taken advantage of because their passive and gullible nature despite their talent, used purely as dumb muscle and a packmule, ANON quickly saved them from the abuse, and put on an actually helpful team, consisting of himself and ODORI. Upon finding out about MUSCLE’s backstory, ATHENA took pity on the small and probably traumatized child, and wishes for MUSCLE’s previous party to go up in flames or get smite by lightning. Imagine Myth’s surprise when this passive and kind-hearted child turned out to be next in line for one of the biggest yakuza branches in all of the country. 

In-Game Outfit: A black vest and a green bandana over a sleeveless white top, wrapped up arms with brass knuckles, black pants and brown steel-toed boots.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Chef, aka. [FLAMBÉ] the Mage

Nerd runs a famous cooking and food critiquing show, in which he is well known for both his temper and his wide range of insults. Imagine the surprise of his fans when they found out that he plays Mythology and Mightiness as FLAMBÉ, the Fire Mage, and happens to be a surprisingly great player. FLAMBÉ would rather not deal with his rabid and simping fanbase and will incinerate the next person with his ultimate attack who even looks in his direction. Usually, the one looking in his direction is ATHENA, who always manages to tank the damage from the fire blast and come back for more. 

In-Game Outfit: A brown overcoat, darker brown pants, gold gauntlets and boots, a red cape with fluff that resembles smoke.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Animator, aka. [ROSWELL] the Sorcerer

Now ROSWELL certainly was one enigmatic sorcerer, for he seems to show hostile distrust to just about everybody in this world, particularly when it comes to people on the internet, often accusing them of committing hostile and unspeakable crimes when offline. ATHENA really doesn’t appreciate being accused of doing unspeakable and heinous crimes offline. She is just a bed-ridden sad sack after all. ATHENA only wishes to clear up any and all misunderstandings between her and ROSWELL. To this day, ROSWELL seems to only trust a certain energetic and hyperactive warrior, and will lay his life on the line to protect said warrior. 

In-Game Outfit: A purple hooded cloak over copper-colored armor and orange boots and gloves, often carries a staff.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Swordswoman, aka. [TSURUGI] the Warrior

Despite being graceful and unparalleled in real-life swordplay, the same cannot be said for her prowess in video games, for she often requires ROSWELL to teach her the ropes. ATHENA regularly finds herself endeared by this childish, yet well-meaning, warrior, and yearns to take TSURUGI underneath her wing. But ROSWELL just wouldn’t trust his online girlfriend to a possible neckbeard. But TSURUGI trusts ATHENA just fine and views Myth like an older and wiser sister, and they regularly go into an isolated field spar together in order to level grind, much to the fear and paranoia of ROSWELL. 

In-Game Outfit: Silver armor with a matching sword in a silver and gold scabbard, a golden headdress with a pink gem in the center.

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Traditional Dancer, aka. [ODORI] the Cleric

What ODORI lacks in gracefulness, levels and combat prowess, she makes up for it in healing prowess and sheer optimism and energy, which helps with her dances in both real life and the game. ODORI is an expert motivator, in both the game and the group chat, especially in her special “Baby Squad”, consisting of her, ANON, and MUSCLE. However, ATHENA can’t help but wonder if ODORI’s player is suffering a similar situation to Myth, and her optimism and energy is merely a facade to cover an anxious and scared little girl. In the meantime, ATHENA tries her best to protect this clumsy and lovable cleric. 

In-Game Outfit: Hair in a side plait, a blue qipao-esque top with a yellow flower pattern and detached sleeves, brown pants, yellow boots.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Nurse, aka. [LILAC] the Cleric

Often found hiding behind her good friend, TECHNO, LILAC is timid, yet kind-hearted, often not speaking in the game’s group chat. LILAC usually lets TECHNO do the talking for her. The few times she does choose to talk in the group chat, she uses heavily outdated and verbose vocabulary that only a few people are able to translate. Just like TECHNO and KUROBA, LILAC displays caretaker-like qualities, even if she isn’t in the hospital. LILAC is also the only one who knows about Myth‘s various health complications, often giving Myth tips to help make life a little easier to live. 

In-Game Outfit: Basically what Elf!Purple wore.

This series takes place within the game as the Anons interact both here, and in the game’s group chat.

——————————————————-

APPEARANCE 

Gamer!Myth has long and unkempt brown hair and bags under her eyes, from various sleepless nights. Gamer!Myth wears a Pikachu onesie, black fingerless gloves, black headphones with the X-Box logo on it, and slippers that resemble Piranha Plants. 

ATHENA (not pictured) has long and wavy purple hair in a ponytail, and wears pink and silver armor with black gloves and leggings, and what appear to be small angel wings on the back of the armor. 

——————————————————-

PERSONALITY

Because of a combination of her isolated upbringing and chronic nightmares, Gamer!Myth is very skittish and extremely withdrawn, and would be considered a NEET if she didn’t attend an online school. Because she builds up a more lovable persona online to compensate for her low self-image in real life, Gamer!Myth fears that people would be disappointed if they were to find out who the person behind ATHENA is. Luckily for her, in recent years, Gamer!Myth is working to become more confident and see the outside world, once her scoliosis and chronic nightmares get cured, one little baby step at a time.  —————————————-—————

I hope you like this new talentswap! I based the plot off of ministarfruit’s V3 MMORPG AU, (I‘d happily recommend that you should check this blog out!). Let me know what you think of this talentswap!

[illegiblewords]

Notes under the cut!

These aren’t all of my lady WoLs, but they are some of my favorite designs and I tried to specifically show different things with each of them.

I think with design, beyond different silhouettes it’s worth it to be able to look at a character and get a sense of their personality and background. Sometimes lifestyle depending on how realistic you’re going, although Final Fantasy is a bit “fuck practicality we’re running on rule of pretty” lmao.

With these ladies specifically I also wanted to 1) pick fashions that would work well with the body types and proportions 2) create specific tones 3) play with expectations. I also, personally, wanted to explore different forms of femininity in a positive way. I’ve seen some cases where people seem to think the only way to have a “strong” woman is if she’s made traditionally masculine. I have no problem with traditionally masculine women by any means, but I’m really not into demonizing femininity either. So if I have the option to actually explore femininity in a game in positive ways I like to do that!

Nheu/Pink Miqo’te: I wanted to make her a kind of scrappy character, loud and probably a bit obnoxious, a shameless delinquent sort who immediately demands attention with neon color schemes. Going with Keeper of the Moon miqo’te let her have a toothy smile with little fangs too! I didn’t want her to look mysterious or alluring. This is one of my favorite archetypes tbh, I should really use it more.

Lagogeim/Turquoise Roegadyn: I wanted to make a dragoon who tied to Limsa Lominsa instead of Ishgard or even Gridania, who took the concept of Llymlaen with her harpoon and really built into the motif of pirates. So beyond evoking the sea as much as possible, I wanted to use an unnatural skin tone and hair color since people shy away from those a lot. I tried going for a harder fem look too for her--many roegadyn players embrace this angle so I decided to this time!

Eir/Blue Highlander: I’ve seen a stereotype that hyur highlanders have tall, sexy bodies but less attractive faces. I wanted to make a very short, cute looking highlander girl who isn’t the extreme end of curvy, give her a short/cute haircut that still felt strongly feminine, and pair that with a heavier, more traditionally masculine-perceived job like Warrior. I also tried to make her really, REALLY feel Ala Mhigan both in gear and color scheme/features--I drew some aspects of her coloring from Ilberd to be honest!

Asklona/Green Roegadyn: So I mentioned that a lot of people do hard fem looks for lady roegadyns very well, and I’ve seen critics go after femroes saying they have mannish bodies and ugly faces before. I disagree with that a lot, and decided in this case to go as soft and traditionally feminine as I could. I also went with the least saturated Sea Wolf color and tried playing with blushes/hair color combos to help her look a bit more natural (as opposed to blue/greenish) in this case. Another angle I went with was bard specifically to close the gap between Limsa Lominsa and Gridania, playing into siren and pirate themes since this character is a Sea Wolf. Beyond choosing green to fit with my Famfrit team in a unique way, I chose it as that bridge and because the green being a complementary color to red would make any pink hues stand out more!

Osk/Purple Viera: The stereotype I’ve seen for viera has involved them being hyper sexualized. I personally also rarely use brown hair or the color purple apparently so far as those choices go. What’s more, I wanted to make a look for the scholar job that would be a little more versatile, clearly not mistakable for any other job (healing or otherwise) and that would keep this particular character both elegant and more conservatively dressed. I didn’t want the character to feel like she’d hopped out of the woods either given that’s the most frequent angle for Viera--going a more urban direction was something I wanted to do as a contrast to that.

Nivienne/Gold Elezen: Wildwood elezen tend to be pushed with more natural skintones while Duskwights are more likely to have blue undertones that let them feel like drow. In this case I wanted to make a Wildwood elezen who, due to color combinations, felt fantasy-golden and a little otherworldly. I did a lot of designing to foil Emet-Selch in the name of fanfic lmao (use of gray and gold in different places to different degrees, height, etc.) but I also wanted to make a summoner character who, like scholar, felt extremely visually distinct from other casters. The biggest Summoner-specific look involves horns so that stayed, but for the rest I wanted there to be a flowing and mysterious feel. There was a critique I saw in the past that female casters end up looking like magical girls, so I wanted to challenge that. I also was careful with how the face and shoulders were framed to make sure that Nivienne would feel proportional, since that’s a potential risk for elezen.

Acja/Brass Viera: Another alternate take on dragoon! This time, I wanted to make a viera who tied to savanna aesthetics as a contrast to forest ones, and I did look at Sub-Saharan African fashions as influence. I couldn’t get things exact/used some “it’s Final Fantasy people wear five billion belts” artistic license (and offhand I don’t remember the exact country I used, it might have involved Ghana’s historical armor?) but I tried to match silhouettes, materials, shoes, etc. as best I could. Part of this is also that I know African visuals get used less often in video games, which is a shame because they’re incredibly gorgeous and distinct! So Acja is one design where I did try to bring that in.

Kokono/Orange Lalafell: I’ve seen people lament lack of canine race options in FFXIV and honestly, I agree with that sentiment. We have so many cats and it would have been cool to get dog options. Since it’s not an in-game thing though, I figured this was an opportunity to make the type of character instead. In this case, I used the dark nose option for lalafells and combined with pieces from the werewolf set to make a little fox! She has a few different influences to her visuals due to backstory stuff, but I do think there are ways to make more foxes and small dogs for lalafells as well as wolves for Hellsguard roegadyns.

Eshe/Yellow Au Ra: Another African-influenced design, this one tying to Ethiopian historical fashion and armor! Same rules apply though, the top goes hugely with the “it’s Final Fantasy” brand of artistic license. I know au ra are mostly associated with Othard/Eastern regions, so I decided to shift things to a different tone while trying to keep things fully immersive. I made Eshe a paladin because the swords and shields have some options that resemble African sword designs (WHICH ARE SO FUCKING COOL) and I wanted to try a different tone for paladin from the Western knight-in-shining-armor as well. I didn’t want Eshe to feel overly cutesy or innocent, but did want her to feel very graceful and strong.

Mitsu/Red Midlander: A few things hit me in combination here. First, I’d been nerfing myself to a degree with hyur midlanders when I knew there was an approach I liked. Second, I haven’t seen a lot of traditional-looking characters from Othard and I wanted to switch that up. By this I mean that looking at Far Eastern NPCs, often they are midlander hyurs with black, dark brown, or occasionally gray hair. Not a ton of dye. I love that the Warrior of Light could come from anywhere, so I tried to design someone who credibly could have been an NPC in Kugane. She’s a summoner because there is an Othard tradition of summoning, and she wears red because to my knowledge it has symbolism for good luck in both Japan and China besides being pretty. I also wanted to make a very different summoner (and general caster) visual compared to Nivienne.

[2pcontinued]

A Silent Symphony

Standing at the edge of a ballroom, the beautiful golden chandelier holding many bright candles that illuminated the entire room, you watched longingly at the dance floor. How you wished to be there, waltzing the night away with a handsome stranger. Of course, you could, but lord knows you would be in a load of trouble for doing so. So for now, you simply watched. At least your uniform was cute, even if it was a but uncomfortable. A pair of black mary-janes were shown on your feet, while on your actual body you wore a black frilly dress that stopped at just below your knees, with a white band going around and cinching your waist, and short puffy sleeves that connected to the more modest version of a sweetheart neckline that was also decorated with frills. A pair of plain white stockings covered your legs. Your hair was pulled into a low bun, tied with a white ribbon, and you wore white gloves over your usual rough hands, due to the labor the master of the estate required you to do. Little did you know, a pair of eyes were watching you from afar, staring intently at your simplistic figure, with a look of interest.

Some time later, while you were escorting a guest to their designated room in the estate due to them drinking a little too much of the selection of refreshments you served during the ball, you had walked up to the third floor of the mansion to drop them off. Once you had left them in their room a drunken mess, you started to begin to go back to the party to finish the rest of your job. As you were walking back down the stone staircase, a small melody filled your ears. It was very quiet, almost nonexistent, but still prevalent enough for you to be able to hear it clearly. You stopped in your tracks for a moment, unable to choose your next course of action, yet settled on a decision mere seconds later. Nodding your head, you decided to follow the sound. You knew this land like the back of your hand, so nothing you discovered would be new to you, not to mention, you were always doing the same thing all the time every day, so a change of pace would be inviting. Your shoes clacked against the stone pavement of the stairs you were walking up, currently leading you to the second to last floor, floor five. Once you had arrived at your destination, you opened the brown wooden door at the top of the flight of stairs, and walked down the corridor slowly, making every step you made as silent as possible. The music only got louder. The wallpaper decorating the hallway was a lovely blush pink, with a small off-white stripe marking every every six inches or so of the wallpaper. The floor now had baby blue carpeting, a color you had always found to be joyous and quite adorable, the color itself expressing youth and innocence without even using a picture. Passing every door, you noticed that the music was coming from the very last door at the end of the hallway. It didn’t exactly make sense, since that room had always been vacant every time you had cleaned it, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. It’s not like you got a bad feeling from the situation anyway, because if it had, you would have stopped a long time ago. You trust your instinct with every fiber of your being, as it has never steered you wrong before.

Reaching the final door, pure white with small pink roses decorating the edges, you grabbed the brass knob, and turned it in your hand gently. Pushing the door open, a beautiful scene filled your sight. The usually ugly fading avocado green wallpaper had been replaced with a pristine white wallpaper instead, as the moon lit up every dark crevice of the room. Gold trimmings decorated the connecting area of the floor and wall, and a large white and gold rug covered part of the floor, as a shiny dark brown hardwood floor peeked from underneath the item. On the left side of the room, trays upon trays of pastries and the most delicious smelling sweets sat on top of a table with a white tablecloth, and pink roses occasionally decorated the table, completely snipped from their stems and the flowers left untouched and oddly  perfect. The finest wines and drinks stood next to the sweets on the table, along with a chocolate fountain, what you may say is arguably the best addition to any dessert table. A large window removed of it’s glass with a curved top allowed the full moon to show, it’s holy light shining upon the magnificent display before you. A man stood near this window, not very tall in height, only reaching about 5’6 at most. His back was facing you, however you could see his strawberry blonde hair glisten in the moonlight.

“Excuse me sir, I don’t think you’re allowed to be here.” You spoke, a little unease in your voice, due to the stranger standing across the room from you. He turned around, and you were able to fully take in his features.

What he lacked in height, he made up for in pure and absolute beauty. Extremely fair skin, slightly littered with freckles, as well as deep and sensitive eyes that resembled the color of sapphires when the sunlight hit them, filled your view. Thin, yet plump pink lips with a slight cupid’s bow as their shape, and a button nose that looked almost too tempting to touch with the tip of your finger. His eyebrows, slightly bushy yet well groomed, and long eyelashes framed those mesmerizing eyes of his. His face was slightly rounded, with his chin coming to a small point, his body looking a bit plump and more on the well-fed side, showing his status in society, and providing an explanation for his adorable somewhat chubby cheeks. He was wearing a soft pink waistcoat with a matching pink tailcoat, and a baby blue bow tie. A white wing-collared dress shirt was tucked into neatly pressed cream-colored pants, and he was wearing white gloves, while on his feet were white dress shoes. My god, was he gorgeous. And he was staring directly at you.

A smile graced his perfect lips, yet he didn’t expose his teeth. The music continued to play in the background.

“I’m terribly sorry, my dear, but I was hoping that I could stay a bit longer in here, if you don’t mind.” His voice had an English accent, something that charmed you further about this man.

“Actually, I don’t mind at all.’ You had no idea what you were saying, of course you minded, you could get punished for this, but something about the air around you made you change your mind. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. Excuse me for interrupting.”

As you were about to grab the doorknob to leave again, a sharp wind passed you and you felt your freehand being grasped in another’s.

“I would actually enjoy it, if you stayed for a little while with me. I don’t like to be alone.” His hand was freezing cold, as if you were holding a cube of ice instead of the hand of another person. His voice was genuine and softened, showing that he wasn’t lying. At least you hoped he wasn’t.

Nodding your head, he didn’t let go of your hand, but instead turned you around to face him, palm touching palm, fingers intertwined. Your face burned up like the Sahara during the day.

He smiled at you, teeth barely exposed, but enough to show off some of his pearly whites. Even his teeth were perfect.

“Shall we dance?” He asked, and due to the close proximity, you could smell the faint scent of strawberry coming off of the man. You were so close, you could nearly count every single one of his individual freckles on his face. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad way to spend a lazy early morning.

“Yes, we may.” He gave you a reassuring look, then the song began to change. Wait, there was no piano or record player, so who was playing the music? You had no time to think, as he pulled you closer to him, you started to shift and turn in synchronization, one-two, one-two, feet moving together gracefully. Your dress swished all around you, and you could feel the air blowing past your face as you two moved together swiftly. It seemed as though he had you under a trance, your movements completely mimicking his, following his lead completely, not even thinking about anything else but the dance and keeping up with him. As the song began to end, he dipped you down, and you could feel his face nearing the left side of your neck, at a steady pace, slowly but surely making it’s way to the tender meat that was your flesh. Your eyes were closed softly, your head falling back, somewhat sleepy in your state, not fully conscious in a way.

Once he had gotten close enough, he began to open his mouth, and sink his teeth into your delicate skin. Close, so close he could almost taste it, which he could. Almost. Just as his fangs were about to pierce your skin, your eyes pushed themselves open, a look of anger written on your face, and you glared at him. You snapped your neck and head back up while he maneuvered his away from yours to avoid your head impacting his, and messily pushed him away from your body. The blonde looked surprised, and a little amused, to say the least. 

You lifted your leg up and attempted to kick him, yet in a flash, he was gone again, in front of the window you had found him in when you first walked through the door. Raising your fists up to protect yourself, your gaze hardened and eyebrows furrowed, as a hard frown set itself upon your features.

“Who are you, and what did you do to me, you sick man.” Your voice held no hesitation and no fear. You were ready to kick someone’s ass if need be.

The man simply giggled, and grinned at you, revealing his full set of teeth.

“My god..” You whispered to yourself, as you saw rows of fangs lined up on the sides of his mouth, the sharpness of them terrifying you to no end.

“What’s wrong, poppet? Are you surprised?’ His voice came out like velvet, yet held a dark undertone that you despised. He continued. ‘Let me introduce myself, then, to the pretty lady.”

As he said that, he jumped backwards into the window and landed slowly, floating like a feather onto the ledge, and bowed his head down to reach his waist, then lifted his head back upright. His tailcoat swished dramatically behind him. What a show-off.

“I am Oliver Kirkland, a powerful vampire! And you were supposed to be my next meal, my dear.” This part caused your eyebrows to rise and your shoulders to tense, but you stood your ground. No way in hell you were backing down now. Even if his voice got oddly high-pitched during this moment, and it aroused worry in your body.

“However, you, my love, resisted my charms at the last minute. How fun!’ He paused for effect, and lifted his right hand to his chin, stroking it thoughtfully, before he begun again. ‘I have a feeling we will meet again, dearest (Y/n), so, until then! Toodle-loo!” And with the wave of his hand, he was completely gone, as if he vanished in mid-air.

When he left, the entire room changed once more. The walls returned to it’s previous deteriorated state, the floors dusty and rickety, creaking under your body weight, and the treats gone. The room was completely silent.

“How did he know my… Where was the music coming from…” You questioned yourself aloud, knowing that you would probably never find the answers if he didn’t give you the answer. Well, this was beginning to get a bit too personal for you. Collapsing against the aforementioned nasty green wallpaper-covered wall, you sat on the floor, your knees pressed against your chest, the moonlight seeping inside from the window barely hitting the tips of of your shoes. A chill ran down your spine. You might need a drink or two to finally begin to process what had just happened.

(This is for anon! My first ever halloween event request fulfilled, so thank you for allowing me to fulfill your request, and have a lovely day!)

[fulcrum-agent]

Appearance Aesthetics: Ashla

(Italic is rarity but done if at-least under unique occasion.)

BODY.

Long legs. Short legs. Average legs. Slender thighs. Toned thighs. Thick thighs. Muscular thighs. Skinny arms. Toned arms. Soft arms. Muscular arms. Toned Stomach. Flat stomach. Flabby stomach. Soft stomach. Six-pack. Beer belly. Lean frame. Beefy/muscular frame. Voluptuous frame. Petite frame. Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails. Flat ass. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Thick ass. Thigh brows. Small waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands.Small hands. Long fingers. Short fingers. Average fingers. Broad shoulder. Narrow shoulder. Underweight. Average weight. Overweight.

~Despite being a mage, Ashla has worked on martial training for most of her life, starting with learning the basics of swordplay while she was still a child, along side her twin brother. She has a wiry musculature, while her brother’s is slightly more built, but not by much. Although she’s got a bit of a hectic schedule, she keeps at practising her swordplay, having also expanded a bit to using daggers, as well as the Gyr Abania spellsword style she learned on the sly, so she’s keeping in shape.

HEIGHT.

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

~Ashe isn’t all that tall, at least not as tall as some Midlanders. She isn’t precisely short either. She does tend to end up in at least slight heels or platforms a lot of the time, but nothing insanely high.

SKIN.

Pale. Rosy. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth. Acne. Dry. Greasy. Soft. Scarred.

~Currently Ashe has two different scars, though the one may end up healing away into being unnoticeable due to treatment from a Xaelic shaman. One arcs across the bridge of her nose, and she’ll likely never be rid of it. The other is a rather freshly healing slit across her throat, from an attempted kidnapping/assassination. She also is covered in freckles, all over her body, like the stars in the heavens. (see tasteful, mildly-NSFW rep here.) Otherwise, she has decent enough skin. The colouration is vaguely tanned, with more olive tint than a rosy one, but containing bits of both. She flushes fairly easily, which is when the rosy tones are more noticeable than the olive ones.

EYES.

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Blue. Green. Gold. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned.

~Her eyes are a bright shade of aquamarine, though she seems to hate the comparison to the gemstone of the same hue. They’re typically quite bright, even when she’s being serious, alight with the fires of her convictions. 

HAIR.

Thin. Thick. Fine. Normal. Greasy. Dry. Soft. Shiny. Curly. Frizzy. Wild. Unruly.Straight. Smooth. Wavy. Floppy. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Shoulder length. Back length. Waist length. Buzz cut. Undercut. Bald. Jaw length. Mohawk. White. Platinum blonde. Golden blonde. Dirty blonde. Blondette. Ombre. Light brown. Mouse brown. Chestnut brown. Chocolate brown. Dark brown. Jet black. Ginger. Auburn. Dyed red. Dyed any “unnatural color”. Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows. Thick eyebrows

~Ashla has a mess of red hair, that’s naturally wavy, to an extent, but she often takes the time to smooth and style it. It’s currently kept short, mostly due to being on the run from Garlemald. There are times when she’ll end up having a dirty blonde, shoulder length style, with her freckles conspicuously missing.

TATTOOS / PIERCINGS.

Full sleeve. Thigh tattoo. Neck tattoo. Chest tattoo. One tattoo. A few here and there (two tattoos). Multiple. No tattoos. Monroe piercing. Nose piercing. Septum. Nipple piercing(s). Genital piercing(s). Industrial piercings. Earlobe piercing(s). Prince Albert piercing. Eyebrow piercing(s). Tongue piercing(s). Lip piercing(s). Tragus piercing. Angelbites. Labret. Stretches out ears. Navel piercing. Inverse navel piercing. Cheek piercing(s). Smiley. Nape piercing(s). No piercings.

~Ashe has several different piercings in her ears, three on right, and four on her left, ranging from the lobe up the cartilage to the tip. She wears a pair of rather stylised, sharp earrings on the lobes, with a trail of small gemstone earrings leading up to the piercing at the tips of her ears.

COSMETICS.

Eyeliner. Light eyeliner. Heavy eyeliner. Cat eyes. Mascara. Fake eyelashes. Matte lipstick. Regular lipstick. Lipgloss. Red lips. Pink lips. Dark lips. Bronzer. Highlighter. Eyeshadow. Neutral eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Colorful eyeshadow. Blush. Lipliner. Light contouring. Heavy contouring. Powder. Matte foundation. Shiny foundation. Concealer. Wears make up regularly. Wears it from time to time. Never wears make up.

~Although she does frequently wear make up, she doesn’t wear a whole lot of it, and will often not bother with putting it on. When she does wear make up, it’s light and natural. She has naturally thick eyelashes, and she doesn’t really bother accenting them any. She also prefers earth toned, barely there lip balm-like things, rather than full on lipstick.

SCENT.

Floral. Fruity. Perfumes. Aftershave. Cocoa. Moisturiser. Shampoo. Cigarettes. Leather. Sweat. Food. Incense. Marijuana. Cologne. Whiskey. Wine. Fried food. Blood. Sugar. Cinnamon. Vanilla. Clove. Cardamom.

~Despite being far away from Dalmasca at this point, she still smells of the desert cities - spices like clove, cinnamon, and cardamom mixed with a faint hint of vanilla. Sometimes, the scent of sandalwood incense mixes into this blend, as she still burns a stick each night in her prayers to Faram. On the rare occasion, there’s a hint of saffron to her scent, due to her preferences when cooking.

CLOTHES.

Jeans. Tight pants. Overknee socks. Tights. Leggings. Yoga pants. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt. Loose skirt. Tight / formfitting dress. Cardigans. Blouse. Button up shirt. Band-T-shirt. Sports t-shirt. Sweatpants. Tank top. Fur. Faux fur. Leather. Designer. High street. Online stores. Thrift. Lingerie. Long skirt. Miniskirt. Maxi dress. Sundress. Tie. Tuxedo. Cocktail dress. Highslit dress / skit. T-shirt. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Jean shorts. Sweater. Sweater vest. Khaki pants. Suit. hoodie. Harlem pants. Basketball shorts. Boxers. Briefs. Thong. Hotpants. Hipster panties. Bra. Sports bra. Crop top. Corset. Ballerina skirt. Leotard. Polka dot. Stripes. Glitter. Silk. Lace. Leather. Velvet. Chemise. Patterns. Florals. Neon colors. Pastels. Black. Dark colors. Naked.

~Ashe favours tighter fitting clothing, as there’s less to be used against her in combat. She wears primarily easy-to-move-in cloth, with some leather pieces. More and more as of late, her clothing has been trending towards more sophisticated looks, while remaining functional, as Paradyme gifts different garments he believes she’ll both look good in, and like.

She tends to gravitate towards darker colours, mostly blues and greens, since they work well with her hair colour and eye colour. She also tends to wear a lot of white, with black accents. Ashla prefers silver tones to gold tones, though either looks good on her.

There are a few things that are consistent about her wardrobe. She almost always wears a pair of brass/bronze glasses, with the lenses held in place by just the nose-bridge and the arms - they’re unlined otherwise; the only time she doesn’t seem to have them on is when she’s blonde.

SHOES.

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stripper heels. Barefeet. Loafers. Oxfords. Gladiator shoes.

~Though she doesn’t always wear them, she has a unique pair of boots. Below the calf, they’re a stylised leather dyed with a pinkish-red tone, but above the knee, they’re silver plated, like a knight’s boot.

Otherwise, she wears a modified set of Ironworks boots for mages. They’re black and silver, with a few bits of magitek built into them that the original style lacks. Tagged by : @captainkurosolaire Tagging : Anyone who wants to do this.

[shiftingpath]

to my Exalted Secret Santa

Three options under the cut:

Ledaal Manus, Twilight Caste Solar Spymaster Cathak Argon, “The Forge of Melted Chains”, Slayer Caste Infernal Prince Black Wings to Blot the Sky, Day Caste Abyssal Renegade

1) Ledaal Manus, Twilight Caste Solar Spymaster

Manus is a beautiful, feminine, very privileged young Dynast-turned mastermind of the clock city of Towersong. He acts as social prep/cleaner and advisor to his small Circle, and specializes in seeing everything and making people underestimate him so he can work freely.

He is extremely pretty in a soft, gentle way. He dresses in a sort of semi-Victorian style he’s borrowed from Thorns, brocade vests and slim trousers and so on. He still likes the very high collars and wide sleeves common in Realm fashion, though. He is slim and around average height. His skin is very pale (though should still be recognizably Realm in ethnicity, which for our Creation is closest to Chinese). His right eye is icy pale blue, and his left is a darker, warmer blue (having had it replaced after the original was cut out by a Lunar). His hair used to be white graded to blue at the bottom, kept in a four-foot braid down his back, but recently Ligier chopped it off in an ill-advised duel. Now it falls just below his jaw, short at the back and longer in the front, pure white, and he keeps it pinned back, sometimes with the longer front “french braided” along his scalp. (Drawing either is totally fine.) He wears small oval spectacles and especially loves wearing purple. He has a strong aversion towards displaying skin, so covers up to his neck, down to his wrists, but if it is relevant, he has a brand around one bicep- a chain with a crown linking it like a lock.

He idolizes his Air Aspect father, and often wears a piece of pale blue clothing as if it were his token. Though he has a lot more jewellery, he almost always wears a simple gold circlet on his brow, a brass gear ring nailed through his finger, and a silver pin (on his cravat or coat) of an upright-pointing clock hand, a human hand before it, an eye on the palm- a gift from his Zenith queen when she appointed him her Hand.

He is brilliant and cunning and a dedicated problem-solver, which are put to the test in his role as right hand to one of the queens of the city. (He is always up to his neck in paperwork and responsibilities and happy about it. A consummate bureaucrat, he is Bureaucracy Supernal.) He fights using the sword he pulled from a tree (fulfilling local prophecy at the time), the long and delicate moonsilver-and-starmetal daiklave Silver Riddle. Having recovered his long shorn braid from Ligier, Silver Riddle now wears it like a tassel. He also occasionally uses one of a matched set of artifact assassin blades, the Sun-and-Wind Talons. Manus’ has the image of an orichalcum sun laid over a blue jade sky, but he usually keeps it hidden under his sleeve. In combat he fights with Solar Melee and the counter attack-focused evocations of Silver Riddle, and for sneaky purposes has a little training in two separate Martial Arts styles concerning assassination.

He is a Solar Circle sorcerer, initiated in all three times via scrying into the depths of the giant clock he lives on. He has three signature spells: a clock version of Corrupted Words (which flares his eyes with a subtle emerald flash), Lost Hour’s Offering (in which he uses weird clock magic to remove memories, taking the form of him ringing an ornate hand-bell), and The Titan’s Held Breath (in which he steps between the spaces between Autochthon’s laboured breaths and can run through a strange green-hued clock dimension until he either passes out from nausea or he chooses to allow time to function again).

His anima banner is gold in the center and fluxes to reds and purples towards the edges. The image is a hand presented like the Vitruvian Man, fingers extended and closed simultaneously. An eye opens wide in the palm. Lines of proportion encircle the fingers and their joints and extend out into the rest of the world to display the symmetry of Creation.

Reference:

Normal clothes 1 2 3

His stupid yachting costume

“Savage warrior of Karn” clothes

= = =

2) Cathak Argon, “The Forge of Melted Chains”, Slayer Caste Infernal Prince

Argon’s backstory is Extremely Second Edition and will be under construction until whatever year Infernals are released. However, here is what is not confidential:

Argon was raised in House Cathak alongside his twin sister Araka, raised to believe that obedience to his superiors was right and good, and that it felt right and good, and that his superiors deserved his unquestioning loyalty and admiration. His sister learned alongside him, but all she took away was that the strong get what they want. She exalted as a Fire Aspect, and the two attended the House of Bells together, Argon praying to exalt every step of the way. Araka’s carelessness with her power and her personal abuse of his loyalty to her were key to convincing Argon that his superiors did not, in fact, deserve his loyalty. A metody, one of the acid Malfean elementals, took advantage of his onset of doubt to offer him the demons’ bargain. He exalted as a Slayer, and fled the Isle. Araka, always pressing their relationship beyond that of brother and sister, refused to accept his fate, and wastes countless resources pursuing him wherever she finds a trace of his passing.

Argon is not particularly tall, with a slim build, but is muscled like a lightweight boxer. His skin tone was originally the same as Araka’s, a natural sallow skin native to the Isle, both with brown hair, but as her exaltation brought out ruddy auburn tones in her skin and hair, Argon’s turned his more yellow, mimicking the virulent acid of his co-adjutor. His hair is pulled in a ponytail, and it writhes with uncomfortably living force; distinctly more disturbing than the way an Air Aspect’s hair might blow in unseen breezes, Argon’s seems more to twitch and curl like some strange animal. His eyes are a brilliant acid yellow, and he smells of brimstone. In all ways, he is meant to mimic a Dragon-Blood of Malfean element, with the same sort of elemental “Tells” aspected towards the demonic.

He wears essentially a House of Bells training outfit slightly pimped up to look more majestic. Grey soft clothes underneath, maroon and red tabard over top, with a bright yellow band to signify his loyalties. He bears a yellow jade short spear partially encased in basalt, the Standard of the Beggar-King. From just below the head he has flown a long pennant, bearing only a field of solid black laced with brilliant green pavement cracks. He wears a tainted iron hearthstone amulet after conquering a brutally physically punishing manse in Malfeas itself, and has set a Gem of Infernal Regeneration into it. As a result the scars he bears from his time in the House of Bells and later in Malfeas have filled with basalt; the most noticeable ones are across his nose and cheeks and one deep one in one shoulder, though several smaller ones splash across his arms and torso.

Argon tries to be patient, noble, stern and proud, and emulate the virtues of the Prince as taught in his childhood. He has come to regard the Isle as corrupt, but still believes that a good, benevolent leader exists, in the form of his patron, the Brass Dancer Malfeas, whom he knows almost nothing about and only caught a glimpse of, dancing, for a few minutes once. He believes that he is destined to be the treasured, benevolent leader of some nation, and that he just hasn’t found it yet. His surety that people want to follow strong, loving leaders is somewhat undermined by his powers, which lace him with radioactive essence and punish the slightest misstep on the part of his devoted followers. He is trying his best to believe that he hasn’t signed on to the wrong team, and steadily and stubbornly turns his eyes from any proof that he might not be the worthy leader he believes he is.

He has By Rage Recast (3rd Edition willing), so whenever he goes iconic he transforms into a gargoyle-like beast (an Argoyle), with talons on his hands and feet, a thick tail, bright yellow armored scaling, sometimes black horns, if you liked Gargoyles the feel of it is ripped right out of that. His caste mark is a searing green X as if cut by a blade, and his anima banner is a broken crown with a cracked emerald in its brow.

Reference:

1 2 3

= = =

3) Black Wings to Blot the Sky, Day Caste Abyssal Renegade

Wings was raised as a princess in one of the tiny nations of the Hundred Kingdoms. It was expected that she would be married to broker some allegience, and was made into a creature of beauty and desire, with pure white hair nearly to her knees, unblemished rosy skin, and tattooed with a pattern of white lilies down her body. She would rather have died, and she did.

The princess would have been laid to rest in a state ceremony unlike any her tiny nation had ever seen, had anyone been able to find her body. But as soon as the touch of death came upon her, she rose a different creature. Shearing their hair off, they bound their chest with a strip of cloth ripped from their closet of sumptuous gowns. Clinging to shadows, they left their realm, following the call of something deep and terrible.

Wings is small of build but raring to go. Their hair is still pure white at the sides, cropped short, but they’ve grown the rest into a wild mohawk and dyed it bright red. Their skin is an ashen grey, and they still bind with a strip of no-longer-white cloth that was once a very nice dress. They have been training in martial ways since they left home, and they wear a pair of soft, baggy pants and a red sash around their waist. They have the old style pointed deathknight ears, pierced with several silver rings, and their bottom lip has a thick silver ring as well. Their eyes are crimson, and their cheeks are tattooed with a crest of black points to denote their royalty. The lily tattoo is still in evidence, but they’ve been tattooed many more times since, marred with black bands like shackles and barbed wire from their brief time at the Walker’s side.

During that time, they dressed considerably more princely, with fine, high-necked black tunics and scarves, ornate silver armor set with jet and garnets. They left that all behind in a mirror of their exaltation, when they realized how awful the Walker really was, though they kept the oversized soulsteel smashfists he gave them. Wings has no intention of returning those, and is kind of fiercely enjoying the idea of the fight they’ll give the Walker if he tries to retrieve them. They still tend to throw on scarves sometimes, looping them over their shoulders like dark wings, and they have a weakness for garnets.

They’re a little hotblooded these days, trying to play it cool and not attract too much attention, but unable to stop themself from interfering when their temper gets the best of them. They tend to swear a lot of very earnest and compelling oaths, which they have to grudgingly follow through on in the sober light of day.

Their anima starts as a halo of ominous darkness like a storm in the evening, and culminates in a rushing cloud of bats, their detail reduced to nothing but rapid beating wings, white teeth, and shrieking horror.

I don’t have a design for the smashfists but i’d love to see them on either renegade wanderer Wings or loyal new servant Wings with their full deathknight regalia. They’re originally from a concept where all deathknights can turn into bats so like, forgive furry Wings in the references

Reference:

1 2

[khalithewanderer]

The Wanderer

Clunk. The sound of the staff stopping at the wooden porch just outside the door is enough to silence the entire bar. Heads turn to the door, eyes narrowing in suspicion. It is not unlikely for visitors to appear this late at such a well-known tavern. However, the hollow sound that echoes through the brightly lit room is enough to catch anyone’s attention. Slowly, with a creaking sound that reverberates throughout the old floorboards and into the very souls of all guests, the brass knob on the door turns, and the wooden door is pushed open. Instantly, murmurs rise, splitting through the chilling air that had been caused by the sudden appearance of the unfamiliar sounds. With a steady intake of breath, the Wanderer steps inside. 

Now fully immersed in the light of the room, the whole bar is able to see the entire detail of which the Wanderer contains. A long cloak is draped over their body, its hood pulled over their face. With a braid and a bead hanging from the front, it’s as if their face were the only thing they were trying to keep a secret; the cloak itself is quite revealing, open and dangling down the Wanderer’s front, where it stops just below their knees. On each side, a small golden orb hangs by a small golden braid. But the cloak is split at the arms, it seems, where the hem recedes up near the elbows, and dips down again in the back. As the Wanderer moves forward, the cloak trails behind them, another orb and another braid bobbing along in it’s wake. The cloak is mesmerizing, tiny golden stars and moons decorating its navy blue fabric, which seems to be as dark as the night sky, swirling with tones of purples and blues that belong to galaxies rather than fabric. A symbol is sewn into the back, portraying a crescent moon that is placed around a star, unifying the two separate beings into one.  The cloak, however, is not the only enchanting possession that the Wanderer carries. Two swords, both katanas, are placed securely on their left hip, both of which are quite contrasting. The bottom one, black with silver bearings strongly placed across the sheath, as if to hold the leather together, is slightly longer, and appears strangely warmer that it’s partner. The top katana, covered in a sheath of white that is decorated expertly and exquisitely with tiny patterns of gold, gives off an aura of cold, dark times, as though it were merciless. And of course, there’s the staff - the source of the tension now resonating through the tavern. Pure white and smoothly crafted, it is simply beautiful. There are no decorations, or protectors, or moons, or stars. The ends are plain, just long shafts of white that come to an abrupt stop about a half a meter from the center. And it is the center that is drawing much of the attention. It looks as though four pieces of the smooth wood have been pulled away from the shaft, and twisted so that they coil together perfectly. Placed in between each coil are three gems, of which colour the spectators are having a hard time deciding. They appear red, blue, green, purple, amber, onyx… Despite what the Wanderer is carrying, they themselves are not as spectacular as all are expecting. They move further into the room, headed towards the bar, plain black shoes scuffling along as the steady clunk, clunk, clunk of the staff accompanies them. The Wanderer’s canvas pants that are wrapped on with strings and ropes and yarns seem to have been torn off below the knees. A thin waistline with strange markings about the hips shows a lack of food. The bandages that they wear around their breast are dusty and dirty, stained with mud, food, and what could possibly even be blood. A small woven pouch hangs off of the hip opposite the swords, sagging in odd places, showing a lack of money, which further explains the Wanderer’s small, frail appearance. Four bronze bands are worn on the Wanderer’s right forearm, which moves back and forth in motion with the staff. The hand which firmly grasps the white wood is a dark, patchy brown, which is fairly uncommon in a place such as this one. The Wanderer takes a seat at the bar, passing the staff into their left hand and leaning it against the wooden counter as they flip open and dig through their pouch.  Thin, dirty fingers pull out a small golden coin and place it on the table. “How much will this get me?” Their voice is quiet and unreadable, though a slight accent is carried with it. The bartender picks up the coin with meaty hands and examines it carefully. Tucking it into his pocket, he says gruffly, “Bread and soup. I’ll be back.” By now, the heads of the guests throughout the bar are craning to see the Wanderer more, swivelling back and forth between friends and neighbours, trying to make conclusions about the stranger amongst them. The bartender returns with a freshly baked stack of bread and a bowl filled to the brim with steaming liquid, and places it in front of the Wanderer. Without sudden warning, the hood is flung off, and the crowd gasps. The Wanderer clasps their hands in front of them, letting out a hoot and a howl and bellowing with extreme glee, “WOWEE, THANK GODS, I’M STARVING!!” Immediately tucking into the soup, scooping it up with the slices of bread and chomping down messily, the Wanderer begins to eat. The whole bar stares in shock, surprised by what is underneath the hood. There’s a moment of silence until someone mutters: “It’s a girl.” Stopping abruptly, the Wanderer raises their head, soup dribbling down their chin, and a piece of bread in each hand. Slowly, eerily, they turn around in their seat to face the room, revealing that, yes, in fact, they appear to be a girl. Their face and hair are the same as their hands. So dark that they appear to be covered in soil. Their hair is pulled back as far it can go, tied tightly into a bun behind their head, leaving only a few pieces to hang in their face, which is young and seems kind, though it scares nearly everyone in the room. Softly, they wipe their mouth and place their pieces of bread behind them, and then they from the seat. “Who said that?” they say gently and quietly. No one in the room moves. They asks again. “Please, I would like to know who just said that.” Slowly, a hand raises in front of her. Quivering slightly, a short, skinny man with tufts of hair sticking out from underneath a straw hat says, “I-I did M-Miss.” With a whipping motion, the Wanderer grabs their staff from against the bar and rushes forward to stand face to face with this man. They bend down to meet him, their height being much larger than his, and gets so close to him that their noses are nearly touching. Their face is pulled together in concentration, deep brown eyes filling with so much magic and intensity that the man nearly shakes out of his clothes. They continues to stare on as the entire bar seems to hold its breath…. “BWAHAHAHAHA!!” they erupt, straightening up with their hands on their hips. The remainder of the people around them slowly start to laugh uncomfortably along, more out of fear than entertainment. “I’m no girl! I’m just a human! And one of the strongest and best ones out there at that! Whether I’m a boy or girl makes no difference to me” They spin around and retake their seat, continuing to munch away at their meal. The laughter dies away and the silence resumes, apart from the jumbled talking that the Wanderer is now attempting. “Wow, dish is really good shtuff! I haven’ had shtuff dish good shince Mama wuz in town! Wow!” they continue on, food miraculously staying in their mouth as they so. The bartender leans over the bar at them and narrows his eyes, as they, oblivious to the glare on his face, shoves another piece of sopping bread into their mouth. “What are you doing here kid…?” the bartender growls, though they waits until they’ve finished their soup to answer, tipping to bowl back as they swallow the last couple of drops. “Well,” they say boisterously, “that’s not really a whole bunch of your business, is it Mr. Grumpyface?” The bartender is taken back by their comment, and they laughs loudly again. “Look mister, I’m a Wanderer. I don’t have a whole lot of purpose. I’m just here to feel the world.” The bartender leans back, grunting in reluctant agreement. He still examines them carefully, as though someone like them could never be trusted. “Your skin is dark. That’s not something you ever see around these parts. Where’s your home Wanderer?” The Wanderer is rummaging around in their pouch when he asks this, and freezes, turning slowly back towards him with a wide, innocent look on their face. “I don’t think you understand sir. I have no home. I don’t even know where I started. All I know is that I just keep going. I want to experience everything; the same stuff, the different stuff, the good stuff and the bad stuff, the new stuff and especially the old stuff. That’s what I do. “I don’t have a home because the world is my home. I live where I wish, I do as I wish, and I am as I wish. That’s all there is to know about me.”  They raise off of the seat and lean over the bar, peering closely into the face of the barkeep. “Now let me ask you a question, sir…” The next words that come out of their mouth are filled with magic and mystery, enchanting every single person in the room with whimsical dream-like thoughts and spreading wonder into the hearts of everyone near. They were light, with music and magic and fun, but also heavy and deep, dragging thoughts and minds into the dark. These words seemed so simple yet so powerful, and the world seemed to carry so much sense and nonsense ravelled into one. “Why do you think they call me a Wanderer?”

-=-=-=-=-

- Jamie Homeniuk 

[tabletoptrinketsbyjj]

Trinkets, 34: Interesting baubles, semi magical objects and items touched by mystery.

An eccentric plum coloured hat decorated with a silver buckle and a long egret feather that droops over the bearer's eyes.

An unremarkable gray stone covered in myriad tiny pink growths, ranging in shape from rough textured flowers to near-perfect spheres. Knowledgeable PC's can identify the mineral as rhodochrosite.

A blank envelope containing a single jigsaw puzzle piece and a  note that reads “You have two months to find the rest of this puzzle. If you do not, the entire population in this forsaken area will die.”

A centaur hair pictorial prayer rug.

A small harp with little vines for strings and a oaken body with stray leaves. It appears to be alive, requiring water and light to sustain itself. Its leaves change with the seasons and it blooms in the spring. If broken or damaged, it will slowly but surely repair itself.

An accordion made brown suede of with bronze keys.

A tiny hourglass no larger than a man's pinkie finger filled with phosphorescent sand that emits a faint Random Coloured glow in the dark. It takes one hour for the sand to pass from the top end to the bottom.

A shiny leather doublets trimmed with seal fur and belted with checkered woollen sashes.

A single stick of chalk carved with swirls and twists across the powdery stone.

A finely crafted leather backpack that seems to have been handmade from excellent materials by a master’s needle and knife. The style is simple, but durable and effective.

—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

An eccentric plum coloured hat decorated with a silver buckle and a long egret feather that droops over the bearer's eyes.

An unremarkable gray stone covered in myriad tiny pink growths, ranging in shape from rough textured flowers to near-perfect spheres. Knowledgeable PC's can identify the mineral as rhodochrosite.

A blank envelope containing a single jigsaw puzzle piece and a  note that reads “You have two months to find the rest of this puzzle. If you do not, the entire population in this forsaken area will die.”

A centaur hair pictorial prayer rug.

A small harp with little vines for strings and a oaken body with stray leaves. It appears to be alive, requiring water and light to sustain itself. Its leaves change with the seasons and it blooms in the spring. If broken or damaged, it will slowly but surely repair itself.

An accordion made brown suede of with bronze keys.

A tiny hourglass no larger than a man's pinkie finger filled with phosphorescent sand that emits a faint Random Coloured glow in the dark. It takes one hour for the sand to pass from the top end to the bottom.

A shiny leather doublets trimmed with seal fur and belted with checkered woollen sashes.

A single stick of chalk carved with swirls and twists across the powdery stone.

A finely crafted leather backpack that seems to have been handmade from excellent materials by a master’s needle and knife. The style is simple, but durable and effective.

A small, flat slab of dark stone that, nondescript though it is, gives off an unmistakable eeriness.

A torc fashioned from a coiled length of interlocking chains, constructed of two unknown metals. Black and white, they swirl around each other like yin and yang, darkness and light.

An armoured gorget consisting of a metal throat-shield and a series of overlapping metal plates that encircle the neck. The entire device is connected to a belt made of leather. When worn, the battle gorget protects the wearer from physical strangulation and bites to the neck such as the case if they were hung by a noose or attacked by a vampire.

A clear crystal the size of a child’s fist, covered in eldritch runes. The gem flickers with a weak glow in various coloured hues depending on who its being held by.

A heavy iron bell inscribed with distorted musical symbols that releases an incredibly cacophonous noise when rung.

A magnificent goblet formed from a basalt-like stone permeated with veins of violet crystal.

A hauntingly terrifying mask that appears to have be fashioned from leather, metal and nightmares.

A druid’s staff fashioned by woodland spirits. The shaft is carved from sturdy oak and bound in vines. The head piece of the staff is a slightly oversized rose bud which blooms whenever its wielder casts a spell whose power stems from natural magic.

A peacock-feather quill that always writes smoothly and never needs to be filled with ink.

A large oil painting of some otherworldly sea, where creatures who are octopoid from the neck down but with human heads float in bliss.

A piece of torn red cloth bearing a royal insignia.

A leather bandolier that can be worn over one shoulder and runs diagonally across the chest and back. It has small loops or pouches for holding eight objects the size of a flask or small dagger. The bearer can easily retrieve any of the items stored in it during combat without having to dig through their pack.

An obsidian icon of a forgotten deity.

A recorder carved from brilliant white ash.

A short necked, round bottom flask that could hold about a half-gallon of liquid. Clearly visible through the glass sides, though, is a city. When viewed extremely closely, such as under a magnifying glass, what appears to be tiny people walk through the streets, conducting their daily lives. No matter how the bottle is moved or tilted, those within don’t seem disturbed.

A leather military horse saddle, engraved with battle scenes of human knights slaying kobolds.

A damp beaver skin bagpipe.

A marble sculpture of an elven woman being swallowed by a large wave.

A twisted warhorn blasted into a dark ebony hue and wrapped in bands of bronze with draconic runes that glow with purple eldritch fire. The low moaning drone of the horn discomforts all who hear it.

A wooden armband, intricately carved with interweaving vines and snaking dragons’ heads,

A silver horseshoe with foreign writing etched on to the side of the shoe. Roughly translates to "Trailfire".

A high, conical mask, intricately decorated with dried corn kernels of different colours.

A war banner depicting a bone-white skeleton on a field of midnight blue.

A maple linen chest with false bottom holding a number of lewd porcelain figures.

An innocuous-looking, fist-sized piece of faceted glass. When placed upon a flat surface the object floats about three feet into the air, glowing and chiming softly.

A fist-sized orb that resembles the eye of a dragon and dangles from a heavy gold chain.

A simple quartz crystal with a series of emerald green and brown straws extending from within its central structure. Knowledgeable PC's can identify the mineral as tourmaline in quartz.

A colourful ball formed from silk ribbons that randomly unfurls in a multi-hued explosion of noise and whipping fabric, before suddenly reforming.

A small cut glass bottle has a hinged silver top emblazoned with a caduceus.

A bronze rattle with a set of small openings that allow you to see the glowing purple stone within it.

A lacquered wood-carved mouth instrument resembles a duck-hunter’s call, except for the red band along the mouthpiece and the hooked dragon’s claw wood-burned into its side. Blowing into the object causes it to sound like a drake's mating call, barely resistible to any draconic creature within earshot.  

An empty djinn lamp. There is a note attached on which are written the words: “It's out. It is coming for you.”

A pair of small ceramic vials stoppered with corks. The sigil of the local constabulary has been stamped into the sides.

A handful of small, silver and copper coins pressed with unfamiliar faces and strange lettering.

An empty, crumpled leather belt pouch with a large hole opened along the bottom seam and a snarling beast embossed on the side.

A set of thieves’ tools that includes a small file, a set of lock picks, a small mirror mounted on a metal handle, a set of narrow-bladed scissors, and a pair of pliers.

An egg-sized smooth white stone poorly carved on one side to resemble a grinning skull. The tiny eye sockets appear far deeper than should be possible on an item this size.

A dozen brass keys in various sizes linked on a polished steel ring. One of the keys appears far too intricate for any mechanical lock you have ever encountered.

A polished dark wood box inlaid with silver tracery and lined with velvet, suitable for displaying a single piece of jewellery.

A small metal cube with dark glass on two opposing faces. Holding the box up to a light source causes it to project a colourful image of two men in orange robes, arguing over what appears to be a carefully flayed human skin.

A garish tabard made from simple red cloth, with gold-coloured trim that has frayed badly. The effect of the wear is such that the tabard’s edge appears to be fluffy; the strands of cheap gold fabric float like tentacles in the slightest breeze. The front of the tabard is dominated by a somewhat-successfully stitched image depicting a drop of blood. The back is adorned with a single letter “I” and has undergone the same transformation as the gold trim. Donning the tabard causes several wayward strands to drift upward into the bearer's face.

A doss lute carved from alder wood in a graceful, pear-shaped form. Abstract designs were inlaid in the wood in copper.

A mask of smoked glass cut into a half shell that obscures the bearer's features.

A golden, translucent bracelet made of a lightweight, silky material that resembles warm amber. In fact, small creatures can be seen trapped within. If watched closely, they seem to move.

A disguise kit consisting of cosmetics, hair dye and small props that allow the bearer to create disguise and change their physical appearance.

A coinpurse crafted from shimmering bronze-hued fabric that features humanoid teeth as part of its clasping mechanism. The incisors seem particularly pronounced.

A rough, milky white gem with a red crystal grown directly through one side and tinged with yellow discolorations. Knowledgeable PC's can identify the mineral as realgar.

A curious jade rod tipped with a glowing knob of crimson that shimmers with eldritch phosphorescence like a live thing.

A tiny finch made of overlapping metal plates. A gentle tug on its tail causes it to unfold into the shape of a small flower. Touching the centre of the flower causes it to reconfigure into the shape of a small lizard.

A tightly rolled vellum scroll, apparently blank on both sides, but with a deep blue shimmer as it catches the light.

A simple clay pin in the shape of a human face. Its eyes dart about and its mouth moves as though attempting to speak.

A small brown leather bag contains a double handful of black shale shards that ring like coins as it moves about.

A slate-grey box covered in tiny blinking lights. Along one edge is a panel which folds down to reveal a seemingly random assortment of letters and numbers on individual buttons opposite smooth black glass.

A padded trunk that contains a device to extend and display several small drawers when the trunk is opened. Beneath the display drawers are several additional removable padded drawers, all of which contain neatly sorted tiny decorative beads and wires.

A simple silver mirror that shows a perfect reflection delayed by several seconds.

A soft fur stole lined with black satin. Something solid has been sewn within the lining at one end.

A filthy, mummified monkey’s paw, curled into a fist and clutching what looks like an egg.

A tiny, polished wooden coffin. The lid is sealed with wax and the sound of tumbling glass shards can be heard as the box is moved.

A pair of excruciatingly detailed false glass eyes, in grey and green. While held or placed on a solid surface, they gradually turn to face each other.

Some garish crushed velvet pantaloons, monogrammed with the initials ‘AJW.’ So obviously out of fashion that they can only be antique.

An old, thick coin, dented but cleanly cast with bas reliefs. Some runes on the obverse; and on the reverse: the cruel-eyed face of a woman with spiral horns. The con has a scent of mildew and copper that rubs off when handled.

A small glass cube filled with a faintly luminescent blue fluid, with a small latch on one side securing the top. Something about the liquid suggests a degree of consciousness to its movements.

A leather drawstring pouch filled with a dozen perfectly spherical polished stones. The stones stick together as though magnetic, but come apart again with almost no effort.

A hard black leather case containing a flawless set of well-used professional kitchen knives, one nearly as long as your arm.

A coloured glass hemisphere made to resemble a distant galaxy seen on a clear dark night.

An odd red badge in the shape of a hunting bird’s head. The maker’s mark on the reverse appears strikingly similar to the local duke’s seal.

A folding leather wallet filled with strangely coloured bits of paper. Tucked within, you also find a small pewter badge showing the symbol of a great wyrm atop a castle wall, with the initials ‘GG’ on its reverse.

A shattered magenta stone with two dark green edges and that vaguely resembles sliced fruit. Knowledgeable PC's can identify the mineral as watermelon tourmaline.

A miniature castle constructed from a series of slick, modular blocks. Tiny, smiling figures man the parapets.

A well-polished brass oil lamp covered with intricate characters and a strange landscape in relief.

A brass and steel orrery, animated by clockwork and magic in real time. The spheres are nearly perfectly aligned.

A military chest with silver handles, three drawers, and iron-edged pigeon holes. The chest is covered in crossbow bolt holes.

A bronze candelabrum depicting angels being chased by stirges.

A crystal-beaded gossamer headpiece that sparkles with the slightest movement. The pattern of beads is that of an icon for a long-dead religion.

A clay pot with four faces; one a jackal, one a crocodile, the third a vulture, and the fourth a grinning hawk swallowing a human eye.

A large pot scarab filled with mummified human fingers.

A flat brass clockwork dial so richly studded with circles and hands and curious symbols that it looked like a cross scowly face.

A painted limestone incense burner set with a garnet.

A black basalt statuette of a lion wearing a gold crown and crushing slaves beneath its paws.

A leather wallet stamped with the design of a market stall, containing a full set of certified identification papers denoting that the bearer is a member of the merchants guild. The section containing the member's physical description (Height, weight, sex, race, eye, skin and hair colour) is completely blank and could be filled in by anyone with half decent handwriting.

A pouch filled with a dozen silver coins of great age, depicting forgotten gods and god-kings engaged in carnal acts.

A terracotta lamp with silver filigree work depicting lions killing escaping slaves.

A suspiciously clean wallet made from sewn mice and rats.

A scroll case made of sewn snakeskin and metal plates.

A fancy snuff box made from carved whale bone.

A set of flint and steel in an old calfskin wrap with the tail still attached held in a wool holdall.

A walnut, iron, and onyx pipe with a clay bowl depicting a swan.

A set of dice carved from white dragon bone. They will chill small quantities of liquid if placed inside a vessel of any kind. If rolled the dice will cover a small surface in a thin layer of ice.

An ornate linen headband with brass decorations.

A strange looking stone made of a material that looks like basalt, only with small insets of strange red, almost gleaming, material. It is slightly warm to the touch, and if one examines it very carefully or is very tactile to the touch, it seems to be almost pulsating.

[badwolfravenclaw]

Chateau Cerveau

You open your eyes only to find yourself surrounded by thick, dark mist. Even the ground beneath you, although each step echoes endlessly, is mist. Nothing is discernible. However, you suddenly feel as though you are not alone in the dark fog. A cat materializes from the mist, its fur is long and grey as if the cat is made from the mist itself. Its turquoise eyes pierce through the fog as it approaches you. Suddenly, a voice speaks to you. You are somehow sure that the voice belongs to the cat, but it does not come from the its mouth, which you now notice is being used to hold a short wooden stick, but rather the voice speaks directly to your mind.

“Take the wand.” The cat’s voice is calm and soothing, but full of an unusual power and wisdom. You kneel and stretch out your hand to the cat, who drops the wand into it. The wand is smooth and polished, and you can sense a slight tingling and warmth, as if it, like the cat, is more than what meets the eye.

“This magic wand allows you unlimited power within this realm,” the cat explains. “With it, you have the power to create, control, change, and destroy anything. You are the master of this place.

“I am Kynthelig. I am one of the Guardians of this land, though I prefer the title of Guide. Each of the other Guardians has stewardship over the part of this place that they protect and defend, along with other assignments as needed. My job is to guide you and assist you personally in any way I can. I will be at your side unless you wish to be alone, and even then you must simply call my name and I will appear at your side.”

Kynthelig turns around and begins to pad away. “Come with me.”

As you follow Kynthelig, the mist begins to dissipate, allowing you to see the true form of the realm. You are on a cobblestone road in a deep, lush forest. The wind rustles the leaves of the trees around you and ruffles your hair. You can smell petrichor and pine.

Ahead of you, the forest gives way to a large clearing. Your view into the distance is no longer obstructed, and you can see a vast range of snow-capped mountains cloaked with vibrant green reminiscent of the Swiss Alps surrounding the valley you are in. The forest lies between you and the mountains, though you see multicolored fields crawling up the base of the peaks to your left. The sun shines brilliantly and golden between scattered clouds, spreading warmth upon the valley.

Not far ahead is an enormous manor surrounded by sprawling gardens that could put Versailles to shame. The gardens are full of trees, flowers, and hedges. The manor itself is a French baroque-style chateau made of yellowing stone. It is two stories tall, with a steep blue roof creating a third level in the middle and outermost sections of the house. The walls are filled with glittering windows. It appears as though someone recreated the Chateau de Maisons with more vivid, rich colors.

Barring entrance to the mansion’s grounds is a large brass gate within a granite archway. However, rather than a wall attached to the arch, there is a pair of large stones on either side, and presumably more hidden within the forest. The stones are rough, with symbols and glyphs etched into them. The air around them shimmers as if from heat, making it obvious that they are enchanted with protective wards to keep unwanted visitors out.

As Kynthelig leads you further along the path, a soft rustle comes from the woods. As you turn to look, you find yourself looking into the emerald green eyes of a wolf. The wolf looks fierce and ferocious, but when it sees that it is you approaching the gate, its expression changes to one of delight and friendliness, making it seem more like a loyal guard dog than a savage beast. It rushes to your side and nuzzles its head against your stomach. You reach down to pet it, and notice a leather cord held around its foreleg with iron clasps molded into the heads of wolves.

“This is Deorwyn,” Kynthelig explains. “All of the Guardians can take any form you require of them, though each has their preferred form. Deorwyn most commonly appears as a wolf.

“As Guardian of the Gate, Deorwyn decides who may pass through the gate, and defends the manor against any unwanted visitors from the outside. You are the only one that may enter and leave at your own will without Deorwyn’s assistance, but wearing the bracelet around Deorwyn’s leg allows you to lead any others past the enchanted border and into the grounds, granting them entrance to your mind.”

    Deorwyn pads over to the gate, which opens smoothly. You, Kynthelig, and Deorwyn pass through the gate, and as you continue towards the manor, you give Deorwyn one final pat. The path leads you through the Versailles-esque gardens, and then creates a loop around a bubbling marble fountain. You climb the steps leading up to the front door of the manor, which is painted a dark, royal blue that stands out attractively from the yellow stones of the outer wall and pillars.

    You open the door and enter into the most beautiful foyer you have ever seen. The walls are white with gold trim. The balcony on the far wall and the two matching sets of stairs leading to it are made of the same polished white marble as the floor and the pillars that hold them up, and they are covered with a velvety blue carpet with gold detailing. The crystal chandelier hangs from a curved ceiling directly above a compass rose laid into the floor telling you that the manor’s front door is perfectly south of you now that you have gone through it. The eastern and western walls both have one arched doorway in the south corne and one in the north corner on each floor. Each of these doorways has a gold wall sconce on either side of it that helps to further illuminate the room. The northern wall has a set of three arches on each floor, through which you can see a chamber even larger than the foyer you are now in.

    Suddenly, with a flap of wings and a clear call, a brown eagle enters into the room from the second-floor arch opposite you. Knowing this must be another Guardian, you wave your wand and a leather glove appears on your other hand. The eagle lands on your hand, and you notice the silver ring decorated with a feathery design on its talon. It studies you with intelligent blue eyes the same color as the kyanite set into the ring.

    “Tallis, who usually takes the form of an eagle, a raven, or an owl, is the Guardian of the Manor. The Manor is here to help you store and sort information, as well as to help you think through this information in a logical way. Tallis will help you to arrange this information and keep the manor orderly and clean, but you must regularly return to the manor in order for the information to remain. The ring helps you to recall information and know which room you stored it in.”

    Kynthelig and Tallis lead you through the manor, which has many rooms such as a library, studies, and even a stage. You finally enter the enormous room you saw from the foyer, which looks similar to it but is better fit for use than the foyer. Tallis leaves your arm and flies back into the other rooms of the manor, and you make the holding glove disappear. Then, you follow Kynthelig outside.

    You find yourself on a large, two-leveled granite porch. You can now see the other part of the manor’s grounds. It is not dissimilar from the gardens in front, but there seems to be more to explore here. You can see several pavilions and gazebos throughout the grounds. You now see the fields to the west better, which are filled with grass, sunflowers, lavender, wheat, wildflowers, and much more. There is an immense glistening lake nestled against the forest to the northeast edge of the valley with a river running into it.

    As you rush down the steps of the porch and onto the lawns, a cougar suddenly pounces from the gardens before you. Its amber eyes are proud, and it wears a leather cord laced through some kind of claw around its neck.

    “Uhuru is the Guardian of the Grounds, and will patrol the grounds usually in the form of a cougar to ensure that you may explore freely and happily. Uhuru will ensure that this realm is free of any influence so that you may be entirely yourself here. If you take the necklace, you will be able to travel through the mist that you found yourself in before I came to you, and you can reappear anywhere you wish so that you are not bound by anything while in this place. As a creature of that mist, I will do the same if you need my help. To you, it will look as though your surroundings turn to mist, but really you are the one to do so.”

    You pull the necklace over your head, and then begin to explore the grounds. The fields are peaceful and open, allowing you to run as far as you would like or lay down and meditate. There are trees that are perfect for climbing, and large caverns within the mountains. You can see for hundreds of miles from the tops of the mountains, where the air is clean and crisp. You can even fly among the clouds at breakneck speeds or at a calm leisure. The entire world is at your fingertips.

    Kynthelig finds you and takes you by mist into the mountains. You are in a small dale between several peaks. The air is still and silent. A circle of standing stones occupies the center of the glen. As you approach the stone circle, a mighty roar sounds above you. You watch a great dragon fly overhead. Its body is slender and aerodynamic, its wings built for soaring at great heights, its scales silver and slightly iridescent. It loops around and lands in front of you with a landing much lighter than should be possible from a beast of such size. Its eyes are deep violet, and on its head is a braided silver circlet decorated with intricate dragons.

  The dragon walks at your side to the circle of stones, where you find that each of the stones in engraved with runes in an ancient language that you do not understand.

  “These are the Stones of Ambition. Eidnuet is the Guardian of the Stones, protecting them and ensuring that they remain well-kept, as well as creating new ones as needed. Each of the stones has one of your dreams and goals carved into it. The crown upon Eidnuet’s head allows you to read these runes and feel the importance of that ambition.”

  You spend a moment looking at the Stones with the help of the circlet. Then, you exit the circle and Eidnuet, with a great flapping of its wings, climbs into the sky again. You and Kynthelig travel to another place deep in the forest.

  You find yourself just outside of a round granite platform set into the forest floor with a thick canopy of trees overhead that lets in little light. The platform is surrounded by six pillars with torches mounted to them. There is a raised circle the size of a dinner plate in the center of the platform that appears to be a button, so you stand on it. Stone scrapes against stone as the button sinks until flush with the platform, closely followed by sections of the platform that begin to sink into the ground. When the overwhelming scraping sound finally stops, you find yourself at the top of a spiral staircase. You take a torch from a pillar and head into the ground.

    You step off the staircase and into a dark corridor. The light from your torch glints off of an iron brazier on the wall, which you light. As you do, many more braziers come to life along the corridor. You go through the open doorway at the other end and into a circular chamber. It has six pillars, just as above, with a lit torch on each of the pillars. However, three things are far more notable about the chamber. Firstly, in the center of the room is a stone table housing a sword. Secondly, a lion sits head erect at the base of the table. And thirdly and most curiously, on the wall opposite you is what you would call a full-length mirror, except that it does not show your reflection.

  The lion, which you presume is another Guardian, watches you with golden eyes as you approach the stone table. The table is carved in Gothic style, with gargoyle heads supporting each corner making it look vaguely crypt-like. The sword, however, brings you courage as you look at it. Its steel blade is sharp and untarnished. The hilt is wrapped with the same red leather as the scabbard it comes with, and the guard and pommel are made of gold, with the pommel fashioned into a lion’s head.

  As you move onto the mirror, you suddenly become filled with terror, dread, and apprehension. The stone border of the mirror is carved like the table, with Gothic designs and clawed feet. The glass itself reflects the room you are in, but not you or your two companions. The sword’s reflection is replaced with a large iron key. As you stare at the mirror, you begin to hear faint whispering and muttering that gets louder the longer you look into the mirror. It is horrifying, but somehow entrancing. You can't seem to look away. Suddenly, the lion growls behind you, and with great effort, you turn to face it and Kynthelig.

  “This is Alois, Guardian of the Dungeons. The land on the other side of that mirror is a place of temptation, vice, and darkness. Demons roam that domain freely. However, they can cross over to this side if allowed to do so. Alois can hold them off, but only you can truly defeat them and lock them away in the Dungeons. The cells of the Dungeons are in the Dark Manor on the other side of the mirror. This sword allows you to defeat the demons and the key you see in the mirror allows you to lock them away.”

  The thought of entering the mirror realm terrifies you, but you understand how necessary it is in order to keep your fears, vices, and temptations at bay.

  You climb the stone staircase back into the woods. Kynthelig takes you by mist to one final destination. You are in a clearing in the forest east of the manor. There are lanterns hanging from the trees around the outside of the clearing, as well as curious lights floating overhead. There is a circular table made of stone in the center of the clearing with six symbols evenly spaced around it, with a throne-like chair in front of each symbol.

  “This is called the Council,” Kynthelig explains. “In this place, you may summon each of the Guardians as they are needed in order to give you advice and counsel on any decisions you may need to make. As you see, each symbol represents one of the Guardians. You will sit here, in front of my own symbol. Simply say the name of one of the other Guardians and they will appear at their place in their human forms, which will look like you with some minor differences. And you may make the chairs and table disappear or anything else appear according to your needs or wants.”

  You begin to summon each of the Guardians one by one. Deorwyn appears in the seat directly to your left. As Kynthelig said, he looks exactly like you but with some differences. For one, he retains his striking green eyes in this human form. He is also dressed differently than you are, though it is certainly something you would wear. He has jeans and a green button-down shirt with tiny white dots underneath a gray-and-navy letterman-like jacket. He still has his leather bracelet around his wrist. His hair is done neatly, and his smile sparkles. His voice is genuinely kind and happy as he speaks to you. Overall, he gives you the impression of someone you could easily become friends with.

  “Since I'm the one who chooses who to let in to your mind,” Deorwyn says, “I represent your love of people and your loyalty to those close to you, and I'll help you know who to trust and who not to. I'm fiercely loyal, which can be good and bad. I am generous and loving and affectionate at my best, but I’ve been told I can also become explosively angry if people betray you or give you less attention than I feel you deserve. Sometimes I'm too forgiving, and other times I'm not forgiving enough.”

  Uhuru sits next to Deorwyn. He wears a white tee shirt underneath a red flannel outershirt, all underneath a light-colored leather jacket. He has his claw necklace and amber eyes as he did in the cougar form. He has a slight smirk and he leans back in his chair casually. He seems like one of the people who do not try to look cool and don't care what others think, which makes him so much cooler. Even his voice is calm and casual.

  “I speak for your sense of freedom and individuality. I'm the one who makes sure that you don't care what other people think about you, which can sometimes go too far and lead to other problems. I'm also the one who makes sure you get your alone time, so Deorwyn and I sometimes clash a bit. I'm your sense of adventure and your need for thrill, but I also get a little claustrophobic if I feel like you're becoming trapped. I'm a bit of a rebel, which is both good and bad.”

  Tallis appears directly across from you. He has a navy blue sweater with the collar of a white shirt sticking out, and wears khakis and black thick-rimmed glasses. His ring is on his right hand, and his eyes match his sweater well. His voice is slightly nasally, and he speaks in very correct and precise English. He is a total nerd, but not necessarily in a bad way.

  “As I am the keeper of your knowledge and memories, I will be the voice of logic in any discussions that you need me. I am able to keep a view untainted by emotions and feelings, so I can ensure that you are not making decisions based on feelings alone. However, I can certainly be overly cold and unemotional, so I suggest that at least one of the other Guardians be here to advise you. I am intelligent and logical, though I am clueless to matters of the heart.”

  Eidnuet occupies the next seat. He appears in a tuxedo-like suit with a grey and black jacket and a black bow tie. He is wearing his silver circlet, and his eyes still glow violet, though they do not look reptilian in this form. He sits upright and very still, looking very proud. His voice is soft and calm and yet commands complete attention.

  “I am the Guardian of the Stones, which means that I will speak for you ambitions. I ensure that you always remember your dreams and goals and what you are aiming for. I am able to look at the big picture and tell you if your actions will allow you to achieve your dreams. I am aware, of course, that I can be unrealistic and demanding in my advice, as well as proud and selfish. I truly am trying to help you to reach your goals, but sometimes that does not factor in the needs of others.”

  Alois takes the seat directly to your right. Out of all of the Guardians’ appearances, Alois’ is perhaps the most unusual. He is dressed like a knight or prince from the Medieval or Renaissance era, with a royal blue tunic over a cream shirt, brown pants tucked into leather boots, and leather arm guards. His sword with the gold lion pommel is sheathed in its red scabbard, which is partially hidden by a silky red cape over his left shoulder. His golden eyes have a sort of fire in them. He sits similarly to Eidnuet, noble and regal, and he speaks just as properly as Tallis, though deeper and more commanding. His body language is sharp and passionate as he speaks.

  “Because I guard this side of the mirror from the demons and such from the Dungeons, I represent your moral system. I will advise you on what to do based off of what you have decided is morally right or wrong. But because you have already decided it, I am sometimes stubborn when it comes to changing that code. I see problems in black and white, which means I am striving to tell you what is right, but I don't always leave room for exceptions or special cases. I am idealistic, though perhaps too much so. I am courageous and valiant in defending your moral code, no matter the cost.”

  The other Guardians disappear as you turn to Kynthelig a final time. “You have seen this place in its entirety now, though you may add more to it as you see fit. You may return whenever you would like, but for now, it is time to return to the real world.” Your surroundings turn to mist at Kynthelig’s final words, and you are left alone in the mist again. You close your eyes, and awake.