#to the trudging through the tunnels/blizzard

[inquisimer]

in your heart shall burn is really the quest of all time

[yandere-writer-momo]

Some Pickle for my baby, @unstuckmusturd . Merry Christmas!! 🎄

TW: Dark content, monster fucking, gore, yandere, size difference, and horror elements

Yandere Baki Shorts: The Abominable Snowman

Yandere Yeti Pickle x Explorer Afab Reader

“Are you sure you know where you’re taking us? It seems you’re deliberately leading us further and further away from civilization.” (Your name) ignored the whines of the group of men that trudged behind her in the snow. They dragged their feet as they huffed. The group hadn’t ceased their complaints since they had left the village but (your name) had already been paid the hefty sum to lead them up the mountain to find a rare herb.

“I’m sure.” (Your name) sighed as she lead them through the forest in the mountain. She’s traveled this mountain dozens of times. She knew it like the back of her hand. It was just a shame most men didn’t think she was capable because of her gender… the men continued to grumble under their breath as they followed behind her towards the snowy clearing. The whole group was unaware they they’re were being watched

It was when the wind began to pick up that (your name) urged the researchers to move faster. A blizzard was coming… they failed to keep up with her fast steps as the snowfall gradually braced denser… and that was when a loud roar echoed throughout the clearing that sent a chill down her spine. Was that a polar bear? No… whatever was charging towards them was much bigger than a bear. (Your name) quickly left the researchers behind as she scrambled to safety. She wasn’t going to let these men slim down her chances of survival since she’s already gotten exactly what she’s wanted.

The thick, white blankets of snow blinded her from the carnage behind her. The only thing she could hear were the loud, blood curdling screams of the researchers. And what felt like an eternity later, silence filled the blistering, cold air. It was terrifying to know that she were now alone, but she had to keep going. She didn’t want to die here. Not like this… not being mauled to death.

Once (your name) was back into the forest, she began to set up camp. She needed to build a shelter to retire for the night. It was far too dangerous to continue traveling, especially with a polar bear on the loose.

(Your name) grunted as she used a shovel from her pack to dig a small hole into the snow to settle into for now. She would use their survival skills to outlast the blizzard and hopefully she didn’t run into any polar bears… (your name) made the perfect hole with a tunnel that didn’t allow the wind to blow into her little snow cave. The young woman set up her sleeping bag and retired for the night. Her eyes that were heavy with sleep drifted shut. She prayed to whatever god was out there that she survived the night… little did she know of the large figure who stood above her hideout. A low growl escaped their lips as they made their way over to the slumbering (your name), their clawed hand brushed a few of her stray hairs out of her cold face. His Pretty mate… he’s been watching her for so long now and she was finally in his grasp. Pickle was so happy!

(Your name) awoke the next morning feeling warm…. Warm?! (Your name) went to jump up in shock but fluffy, muscular arms held her down. What on earth- (your name) gasped when her eyes clashed with brilliant gold eyes. A yeti?!

Pickle sat up and cooed at her, his clawed fingers poked at her cheeks as he rose to sit up on his haunches. He was massive… he was bigger than any creature she’s ever seen and he was covered in white and black hair. Never did she think a creature of myth would be real…

(Your name) went to step back but Pickle stopped her. He quickly pulled her back into his body, the yeti nuzzled his face into her shoulder and loudly purred. (Your name) loudly squealed when she felt his wet tongue lapped at her neck. His breath reeked of rotten meat. “Stop it!”

Pickle whined when she pushed his head away, he had merely wanted to love on his mate… why did she reject him? He had shown that he was the strongest out of all the other males. He was worthy of her. Pickle was strong.

Pickle set her down in a pile of pelts as he began to try to tug at her clothes. He wanted something specific from her… Pickle wanted young and she was the perfect one to bare them for him. He’s searched this mountain for a female for months and she’s been the only one he’s seen. Pickle would stake his claim

(Your name) began to fight back. Her small hands beat against each his chest which amused the large creature. She wanted to play? How cute! But she was so skinny… she’d break if he tried to breed her now!

Pickle soon began to poke and tease her, his sexual appetite satiated for now. He could try again later, there was plenty of time before spring!

(Your name) found herself trapped with Pickle in his cave and it was a terrifying experience. The yeti would constantly bring her back meat with utmost urgency, the large monster whining if she didn’t like what he brought. Didn’t she understand she needed to eat so they could breed? She needed to gain weight! Maybe she’d like something else?

Bathing was a bit difficult for her at first but she taught Pickle how to collect snow in her small pot from her pack. Pickle was amazed the first time he saw fire. He even reached out to touch it out of curiosity but quickly howled in pain when he burnt himself. The yeti cried as (your name) kissed his clawed fingers with utmost care. Pickle began to love to be babied

Pickle loved to see her bare. Her curves were delicious to his starving eyes… he couldn’t wait for the spring time to claim his prize.

Pickle was thrilled when (your name) would eat the berries and fish he brought back. The yeti would dance in happiness every time she ate the succulent fruits and nuts he had scavenged for. It swelled his heart up with pride to see her happy. See? Pickle was a great mate! He was perfect!

As weeks went on, (your name) began to make her own clothes out of the many pelts pickle brought her for warmth. The nest in the center of the cave was now twice the size it was from when she first was brought here.

(Your name) had soon grown used to Pickle’s eccentric behavior and to his constant snuggles. Hell, she’s even grown used to his pungent scent… but lately there’s been a more headier scent all over the cave. One that caused a stirring between her legs. Were they some sort of pheromones?

Pickle smirked when he noticed (your name) shift, the yeti placed his large palms on her legs and slowly pulled her skirts up. There it was… her ovulation cycle has begun.

(Your name) had no time to shift from his grasp before his mouth descends on her. Her fingers tangle into the dark mop atop his head. A loud squeal escaping her lips as he greedily lapped at her folds. His freakishly long tongue dove past the tight ring of muscles to his prize.

It’s when (your name) is tethering on the edge of ecstasy that he pulls his mouth away and teases her hole with something much larger than his tongue. And before she can get a grasp on what is going on, he sheathed himself into her. Pickle groans at how she tightens from the intrusion

Her cries only fuel him to pound into her. To breed. She can do nothing but cry as the large bulge protrudes in her stomach. He was too big. He was too much. But it didn’t take long for the pain from his rough fucking to start to melt into something pleasurable

(Your name) felt the coil steadily build in her once more. This time, her hips began to try to meet his rough thrusts and she was rewarded with his tongue in her open mouth. She practically choked on the large muscle that had hints of her taste on it

She felt herself explode on this monster who was somehow sucked even deeper into her from the force of her orgasm. A scream escaped her throat when she felt burning ropes of his cum fill her… there was not a doubt in her mind that this monster had successfully stuffed her with his young. Her stomach a bit bloated from the sheer amount of semen in her

Pickle cooed as he pulled out with a wet pop, his fingers scooped up the viscous cum that leaked from her stretched hole in hope to save as much of it as he could.

. She knew she was ruined beyond repair, but it didn’t matter to her anymore. If she was going to be stuck on this mountain, she might as well enjoy herself

Pickle cooed as he curled his body into hers. The monster licked up her tears as he held her close to keep her warm. She was his mate… his perfect, beautiful mate

[the-greatest-magic-of-all]

Frightful Snow & Delightful Fire

○ fandom: fantasy high

○ main pairing: fabriz (fabian x riz)

○ characters: fabian | riz

○ genre/warnings: fluff and a bit of hurt/comfort

○ tags: Snowed In | Pining | Sharing a Bed | Post-Campaign 01 Season 02: Fantasy High Sophomore Year (Dimension 20) | Fabian Aramais Seacaster-centric | because Riz is out of commission for a lot of this | Fabian goes through the ringer baby! | Mentioned The Bad Kids (Dimension 20) | Fabian's Fire Elemental | In before Junior Year!

○ word count: 7,454

→ summary: Lost in a blizzard and separated from the rest of the party, Fabian does his best to keep Riz safe while trudging through snowbanks until he happens upon a lonely cottage...

○ note: y'all this was supposed to be short. I hope you enjoy it though!

White.

That’s all Fabian could see.

For miles and miles, all around, as he trudged through banks of snow across the mountainside despite the fall of night. In his mind, thoughts raced about, weaving in and out of the forefront of it like waves lapping at a shore.

Most were complaints and grievances over the chill seeping into his bones. The pieces of snow sneaked into his boots when one slipped deeper than expected into the heaps of snow. There was one thought that never left, though. That he kept repeating endlessly, like a broken record.

A prayer.

One to any deity that would listen.

To Cassandra.

To Helio or Sol.

Anyone.

A desperate plea for a sign, no matter how slight, that he was heading the right way.

He’d been sure of it back when he and Riz had first escaped the abyssal cultists’ sanctum. Stumbling out of a secret passage and into the harsh cold of an unforeseen blizzard, they’d only had seconds to decide before they either froze or got caught.

As thunderous, frosty winds buffeted their bodies and bellowed in their ears, they bickered about their next move. Seeing as splitting up hadn’t been the Bad Kids’ plan going in. But, then again, when had any of their plans ever gone off without a hitch? At least they’d had enough shrewdness to set a rendezvous point at The Last Boulder Inn in the Dwarven village they’d set out from last.

“We didn’t account for not being able to get to the rendezvous point, did we?” Riz yelled over the wind, clutching the artifact they’d stolen (An ancient tome of some kind, don’t ask him.) close to his chest, shielding it from the blizzard the best he could.

Faint shouts began to stir from the tunnel behind them, interrupting any quip Fabian could’ve shot back. Barkings of orders in Infernal—no, he’s heard The Hangman and Gorthalax speak it too many times—in Abyssal. And they were growing louder and louder despite the wind doing its best to drown them out. The cultists. Both of their eyes widened as they looked at the closed secret door, back at each other, and then all around.

Fabian soon realized that even at his height he couldn’t find any substantial path. So, he turned to Riz and said, “Get on my shoulders, see if you can spot a path or a-a cave or, or, or something!”

Passing off the tome to him, Riz scaled Fabian with practiced ease. Only thrown off slightly by the force of the winds, but he got up there nonetheless. The cultists’ cries of anger grew in volume in the panicked yet empty moments of searching.

“There!” Riz shouted from above, sticking out a gloved hand toward something Fabian couldn’t see. “There’s a cabin about a mile, maybe two away from here. We can make it. I know we can.”

“Well, you’re not making it anywhere. Take this,” Fabian shoved the tome back into Riz’s arms before he dropped to one knee. Slinging his backpack off of his shoulders. Zipping it open, he presented the open compartment to Riz. “And get in.”

Riz’s eyes went wide. “But—”

“In this sort of weather, the safest place for you and that book to be is in my backpack.” He said, desperation tinging what authority he tried to have in this moment. “The Ball, your tiny legs aren’t going to be able to keep up with me. Not in snow this deep and gales this strong. Get. In.”

Riz stared at the bag with a scowl before he let out a hiss and shoved his briefcase in the bag before getting in himself. “You’re heading due east, okay? Due. East. With all the ridges and slopes, it’s gonna feel like you’re going the wrong way but I promise you aren’t.” And a second before Fabian zipped it up after him, Riz poked his head out and said, “Oh, and remember—”

“Three pats on my bag if I’m going to open it because if I don’t you’ll shoot me.”

Riz grinned wide, his eyes sparkling. “Best Friends.”

“That’s quite enough out of you.” With a pointed zip of his bag, Fabian hauled his backpack onto his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he took a glance at Riz’s compass, due northeast, before setting off.

That must’ve been an hour ago.

Maybe longer.

He’d lost sensation in his nose, ears, and cheeks about fifteen minutes in, which was a blessing in some ways. No longer having to endure how the blizzard’s winds whipped and lashed against them. Such strong gusts that a stray thought settled in the back of Fabian’s mind of clothes torn by icy currents and boots rent by frozen snow.

About twenty minutes in, his fingers had gone numb as well, even with his gloved hands. More of a bane than the others, he’d been shaking so badly that, at some point, he’d dropped Riz’s compass. But he couldn’t stop to look for it. He couldn’t stop at all. Because if he did, he wouldn’t start again and if he didn’t start moving again…

Well, best not to think too hard about it. All he had to do was keep moving in the direction Riz had told him to. He’d said there was a cabin, so there must be a cabin. Fabian just has to make it there.

So, he kept trudging. One step after another. Through the mountainside, half frozen, enduring Constitution saving throw after saving throw. Making each one by the skin of his teeth. He crossed his fingers that Riz was as successful as he, though he didn’t know many Rogues with high Constitution scores.

At that thought, he faltered in his strenuous stride. In the crook of two hills whose sides rose well above his head, blocking his vision from anything but the bright grey sky. He stopped. Yelling was a pointless thing to do in a blizzard as severe as this one turned out to be, but Fabian had no other choice. He wouldn’t risk slinging his bag off of his shoulder and opening it up.

One, because he’s semi-convinced that his backpack has frozen to his thick jacket and he couldn’t take it off even if he wanted to. And two, exposing Riz to this cold would certainly finish him off if the failed saving throws hadn’t.

Yelling it was then.

“The Ball?”

No response. He didn’t yell as loud as he could’ve. So, Fabian tried again.

“The Ball!”

The howling wind swirling around him seemed oh so much fiercer and vociferous in the absence of a response. Even faster than it had been beating already, Fabian’s heart picked up speed.

“Riz!” Fabian shouted behind him, his voice shaking. “Riz, talk to me!”

A beat of silence, of stillness. Not that of a calming lake or the morning after winter’s first snow but the silence and stillness of a long-dead corpse. Another beat. And another. It’s only when fear spiked in Fabian’s heart and he jolted his backpack around, trying to get it off, that Riz’s voice reached his ears. Barely making it over the wind.

“I’m fine,” Came Riz’s voice, muffled and weak. Fabian could almost cry at the sound of it. “Just keep going, I’m… fine. We’re almost there, right?”

“Of course, we are.” He lied, his proud voice ringing out into the night because what else could he have said? ‘No, he’s starting to think he’s been walking in circles and that they’re going to freeze to death in the Mountains of Chaos’. Don’t be stupid. “I can see the cottage now. We’ll be out of the cold in no time at all.”

“Told ya. K-knew you could do it.”

Oh.

An epiphany struck him like a well-packed snowball to the face.

He’d thought that if he stopped in all this frost and fury he’d never get himself moving again. But after that, how could he have ever not started moving again?

Gazing up the snowy hill before him, the steepest he’d encountered yet, he resettled Riz on his back, took a deep breath of sharp, frigid air, and set off once more.

Reinvigorated by Riz’s conviction in him, Fabian began climbing up the side of the icy hill. He caught himself several times, seconds before he slipped and fell. Wondering if this is what Kristen meant about all that “As Above, So Below” Cleric business. How her faith, even as a single mortal, was enough to revitalize an entire deity. Simply because she wholeheartedly, unshakably believed in them.

Cresting the hill’s peak, he found not only a plateauing terrain and a sparse grove of evergreens but also a dark, ramshackle, old cottage. As he took in the sight of a sanctuary, Fabian knew he would never underestimate the power of belief. Or perhaps he’d never underestimate the power of Riz Gukgak.

It took three good shoves to burst through the cottage’s frozen door and another to get to shut it again.

Slumped with his shoulder still pressed to the door, Fabian’s laboured pants echoed out in the quiet of the stone cottage. The howls and groans of the blizzard still rang in his ears despite how muted they sounded now. As he inhaled and exhaled ever-shaky breaths, his eyes scanned the place.

Dusty.

Everything in the cottage was covered in a thick layer of dust and dirt. In the center of the wall to his left was a sizable fireplace that looked like it hadn’t been lit in forever. A frightful-looking bed sat in the far corner. Made up of only a thin mattress, a threadbare blanket and a pillow. Which only left the tiny kitchen beside him on his right that spiders had long since colonized. Oh, and a crotchety chair that sat lonely at a rickety table next to it.

Whoever had lived here, had lived alone. But they didn’t anymore, live here that is. Not for many months, probably.

No pissed-off homeowners to run into then. A small blessing.

Alright. No rest for the wicked.

Pushing off of the door with a wince at his aching muscles, Fabian stalked toward the center of the cottage near the fireplace. Beginning the process of detaching his backpack from his back. As gently as he could, he placed his bag down next to the unlit hearth and collapsed into a heap beside it.

Giving the side of the bag the three pats required to signal safety to Riz, he buried his numb face in his numb hands and groaned.

“Ugh, remind me to never go mountaineering again, The Ball. Never again. I swear I had a more pleasurable time trekking through a literal Nightmare Forest than I just did through all that fucking snow. This book better be worth it or I solemnly swear to throw Adaine and her high Arcana checks off the nearest cliff. You hear me, The Ball! Off a very steep, very snowy cliff! Like to see her Portents save her from that. Ha-ha!”

The beat of silence that came after Fabian’s little rant stretched on for far longer than he thought it would. The acute quiet, well, disquieted him. Made his stomach churn and chest tighten. He had good reason to be anxious right now. They’d almost frozen to death in a blizzard and got separated from their friends. Oh, if the rest of the Bad Kids were here, perhaps this wouldn’t feel so bad.

“Do you think she and the others made it out alright? I mean, I have no doubt that Gorgug had those weird cultists handled with his axe and Kristen has all her anti-evil Cleric spells but… Adaine or Fig would’ve messaged one of us if something went really wrong, right? Of course. Of course, they would’ve. So if they haven’t that means they’re fine. Hopefully, all this blizzard shit will let up in the morning and we’ll all make it to that inn in one piece. If not…well, if not…”

Another beat of silence.

“The Ball? Isn’t this where you chime in with one of your numerous and lengthy backup plans?”

Fabian turned around and peered at his now unsettlingly still backpack. He called out again, “Riz?”

Crawling over to it, already flinching away just in case a stray bullet flew out, he hesitantly zipped his backpack open.

Fabian gasped.

Riz’s body trembled as his tail curled up around the tome. His eyes were closed tight while one hand gripped his gun, his fingers having long turned blue. Almost every inch of his visible soft green skin was tinged an icy blue, including his tightly wound tail. He’d failed nearly every Constitution saving throw, taking on exhaustion fivefold.

Worse yet, he’s still making them.

One more failure and he’d—

Fabian bolted to his feet, his heart racing once more.

How should he fix this? What could he do? He wasn’t a high enough level Bard yet to be able to cast Greater Restoration and even if he was, he could only feasibly remove a single level of exhaustion. If he couldn’t remove them… then the only thing to do was prevent Riz from getting his sixth and final level.

Steeling himself with a breath and a look at a freezing Riz, who always believed in him so fiercely, Fabian was prepared to do anything and everything to save him.

Quicker than he thought he could with sensationless fingers, he unbuttoned and ripped off his thick, fur jacket. Uncovering his battle sheet. Thanks to the carefully wrapped Elven silk, heated by his inner fire elemental, he’d been making all those Con saving throws with advantage. Riz needed it much more than he did right now.

Ignoring how the chill of the cottage raised goosebumps on his exposed arms and caused shivers down his spine, Fabian got to work. Scooping Riz out of the backpack and into his arms, he felt like a block of ice. And once Fabian pulled him closer, the soft chattering of teeth reached his ears. He didn’t have much time till the next saving throw arrived.

A precious moment or two was spent prying the thick tome and arquebus out of Riz’s hands. Fabian’s voice softened to a croon as he did, “Come on, Riz. I promise nothing bad will happen to them if you let go. Everything’s okay. You’re safe.”

Eventually, thankfully, Riz’s grip loosened enough to slip the two items out of it. Setting them aside, Fabian got to work unsheathing his Sword of Shadows and swathing Riz in his battle sheet. The motions had a strange familiarity to them.

Bringing him back to a moment of relief within a lengthy battle as rain poured down on them and he held an unconscious Riz in his arms. Just as he’s doing now. His face had been more relaxed back then, instead being tensed and scrunched up in distress. Though, as he finished wrapping him up, Riz’s furrowed eyebrows and curled lips eased as the sheet’s warmth sank into him.

Fabian had almost lost him that day too. Only time would tell if they’d be as fortunate as they were that day to cheat death once more. But, watching Riz sigh and nuzzle into the fabric of the sheet, his boyish charm making a heartening return to his face, their chances looked promising.

Now that he had a warming Riz in his arms, Fabian almost placed him back on the ground. Ready to get to work on a fire when a stray memory of one of Sandra Lynn’s survival lectures stopped him. Something about never sleeping on cold, bare ground. Glancing down at the grungy, creaky floorboards, his nose wrinkled. Yeah, no, he wouldn’t want to rest his sheet down there, let alone Riz.

With a bit of maneuvering, Fabian managed to keep Riz in his arms as he nudged their stuff away from the front of the fireplace and he dragged the ragged mattress from the bed to place it there instead. Giving the old thing a couple of hits to get the dust off of them. He only succeeded in sending whatever foul substance blanketing it into the air.

One coughing fit later, he laid Riz down on the mattress, resting his head on the worn pillow and covering him in the blanket. Which in practice seemed to be just the suggestion of one and provided almost no actual warmth.

Well, it’s the thought that counts.

Nodding once at the sight, he rose to his feet and set out to start a fire in the hearth. Or rather, convince his inner fire elemental to light some logs ablaze. Whatever you wanted to call it, it’s about to get real warm in here real quick. Rubbing his hands together with a tiny smirk, he glanced around the fireplace for logs to burn.

Strange.

There don’t appear to be any logs stacked near the fireplace’s rack. None under the bed. Or resting against the sides of the web-bedecked kitchen counters.

There don’t seem to be any logs… anywhere in the cottage.

Right, nobody has lived here for a long time.

No person. No logs. No fire.

Cool, cool, cool.

That’s fine.

Fabian just needs to… to…

To…

By the Seven Winds and Jane Wren’s blade, this is hopeless.

Look, Fabian has never ever claimed to be the Smart Bad Kid. Adaine and The Ball had that on lock! Not the wisest either, Kristen and, surprisingly, Gorgug could take that medal. And hell! Fig had enough wit and cleverness to sink a galleon.

Figuring stuff out, remembering and recalling information, none of that was Fabian’s job. His job was to deal stupid amounts of damage, prance about with his sheet dealing out bardics and imposing disadvantage when needed, and, finally, to look hot.

That’s about it.

His Intelligence and Wisdom checks have rarely gone well and even when they did, even when he oh so desperately wanted to be the smart one, he could never beat out his friends’ rolls. And, ultimately, he’s fine with it because that’s not his job.

But right now, it is.

And worse, he needs to be good at it.

So, he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and tried to come up with a solution for his crisis.

There’s no firewood in the cottage. He needs to find some or else Riz will freeze to death. Where does one get firewood? If they were back in Solace, he’d assume that there was a hardware store, one that the Thistlesprings surely patronaged, that sold the stuff. But they’re deep in the Mountains of Chaos and the closest town is too far away to go just for firewood. The previous owner must’ve gotten it themself, which means that… that…

Wait.

A shed!

When he had booked it over to the cottage, he hadn’t paid it any mind, but there had been another structure attached to it. Surely, if the previous owner had to have cut down the trees themself, they would have needed somewhere to put all that lumber! Yes, yes, that’s it!

Throwing on his thick coat and his gloves, he checked on Riz one last time before venturing back into the blizzard. He wasn’t quite the ice block he’d been before, but he was still much too cold for his liking. Ruffling Riz’s wild mane of waves and tucking him a little tighter in the sheet, Fabian went to search for firewood.

As he stepped out, all at once, every ounce of cold he’d shaken off once he stumbled into the cottage returned. Tenfold even, now that he didn’t have his battle sheet to keep him warm. It was like walking straight into a brick wall of frost and harsh winds. None of that discouraged him, though.

Raising a hand to block what little he could of the storm from his face, he trudged through the compounding snow. A gloved hand followed the rough stone exterior walls around the length of the cottage. Until he turned the corner and saw it. The shed wasn’t that big, which is likely why he discredited it at first glance, but it was plenty big enough to hold lumber.

Like the cottage’s front door, it took a few good jerks to yank one of the shed’s double doors open and shut, but only halfway. It would have to do, he wasn’t planning on staying long. Wrapping his arms around himself to preserve what little warmth he had left, Fabian hummed an old sea shanty as he did a once-over of the shed.

Good news: Amongst the lingering dirt and dust, sat bags of kindling and heaps of hefty logs were stacked on a sturdy, metal rack. More than enough for the night they’d be spending here.

Bad news: None of the logs lined up along the wall had been chopped small enough to fit in the fireplace. Fabian didn’t know a lot about survival tactics but all the logs he’d ever seen used in fireplaces were chopped into quarters or eighths. Not one big log.

Promising news: There’s a perfectly good axe nearby to chop those logs into the smaller pieces he needed.

Horrifying news: It’s clutched in the hands of a corpse.

Collapsed in a corner of the shed was what he could only assume was the cottage’s previous owner.

Almost jumping out of his skin, Fabian’s scream went muffled by the raging blizzard as he leapt a foot into the air at the sight. It was too cold for there to be a smell coming from it, but he covered his face anyway. Pressed up against the wall opposite it, he stilled. Controlling his panicked breaths the best he could. He’d dealt with the undead too many times not to have a healthy suspicion of “dead” bodies.

When it’d become apparent that no one was rolling for initiative, his shoulders relaxed. Pushing off of the wall, he crept over to the body. It’d been lying on the ground, curled up around the axe, next to a chopping block. Frozen despite the thick coat wrapped around them.

Riz would’ve probably inched closer to reveal the body’s face currently covered by a large hood, but Fabian couldn’t stomach it. Instead, he focused on the axe, careful to avoid touching the corpse as he took hold of the handle. Try as he might, his mild tugs weren’t enough to wrench it from the body.

Deep sigh.

His grip on the axe tightened. Already wincing at the act of disrespecting the dead. Counting down from ten, when he reached one he yanked the axe free. The sickening crunch of frozen bones breaking that sounded out into the quiet of the shed would haunt him for years.

Turning away from the body, Fabian dragged the axe behind him as he shuffled over to the rack for a bunch of logs. Settling one on the chopping block with a steading breath. Adjusting his hold on the throat and shoulder of the axe, he mimicked the stance he’d seen Gorgug take thousands of times now.

Drawing on every ounce of his strength, he heaved the axe up, his eyes never leaving the center of the log, and brought it down. Splitting the log in two.

The repetitive motions were soothing. In their own way. Even as his muscles began to ache and scream for a break. And even as the chill of the Mountains drained his energy. His mind found comfort in the raising and falling of the axe’s blade and the splitting of wood. It was like trudging through the snow. He didn’t know how far he had to walk; he didn’t know how many logs he’d have to chop. But he kept going anyway.

Fabian’s rhythm finally halted once the axe’s blade sunk so deep into the block that pure momentum wasn’t enough for him to be able to lift it again. Everything he’d been ignoring in favour of chopping hit him all at once. The sting of overworked muscles. The stiffness of his frame. The level of exhaustion.

Crumpling around the axe and onto the chopping block, a stray thought of falling asleep sounded like such a brilliant idea. Right here. Right now. He’d bring the firewood in afterwards. Just for a few minutes. Fabian’s heavy eyelids threatened to shut and stay that way for longer than he’d like. But not before his eyes landed on the corpse. Frozen to death in a crumpled pile in a shed in the middle of nowhere.

No.

That’s not how he’s going to go.

And besides, there’s a freezing Goblin inside who needs him.

Gritting his teeth, ignoring soreness and shaking limbs, Fabian brought himself to his feet. It took a good, solid minute but he eventually got there. Leaning heavily on the upright axe handle, he took a moment to take in just how many logs he’d chopped. The floor of the shed was absolutely covered in them. His eyes widened.

Okay, he’d kind of, maybe overdid it. By a lot.

Holy shit this is so much firewood.

Sheepish, Fabian gathered as much as could in the old, leather firewood carrier, along with a bundle of kindling,. Putting the rest up on the rack before heading back to the cottage.

With a noisy thump, he plopped the carrier and himself down next to the hearth. Unable to ignore how Riz didn’t flinch at its suddenness and volume. He got right to work.

Fabian could feel the palpable judgement from all the rangers and druids he knew as he built the fire. Deciding on something akin to a Jenga tower with the kindling on top. Sitting back, he stared at the logs. A deep frown on his face as he weighed the pros and cons of starting over again before shrugging and summoning his fire elemental.

After that fateful Spring Break, he and his elemental, whom he’d named Nar, had become quite the magical guinea pig for all of the Wizards he knew. Unable to stand the arcane anomaly laid before their inquisitive (read: nosy) minds.

Between Adaine, Aelwen, Ayda, and Zayne, they’d come to a peculiar arcane conclusion. You see, when he’d kissed Nar in Fallinel and swallowed that mote of fire, he’d become a material component of sorts.

Apparently, motes of elemental energy are usually only placed in expensive jewels. Thus becoming an Elemental Gem capable of casting Conjure Elemental. Which would make him the Half-Elven version of it, except better since the Gems are only one use. Or something like that. Fabian had only ever understood that much of their arcane babbling before zoning out.

To him, the academic reasons behind the source of his bardic power never mattered. Much to his Wizard friends’ exasperation. No, what mattered was how he felt and wanted other people to feel, and from there, his magic flowed into the world.

Knowing how freaked out Kalina made Kristen, he’d wanted her to feel every bit the hero she was when he cast Heroism on her. Whenever he cast Faerie Fire, it focused on his want, his need, to see what could potentially harm his friends. Fig had even once described his bardic inspirations as a surging seaside campfire after being shipwrecked. Hopeful and heartening in the face of overwhelming odds. While hers were more like a galvanizing jolt of pure hell-fiery rock n’ roll.

Whenever his Wizard friends had wanted him to conjure his elemental, he always went back to the moment when he summoned it forth for the first time. A time when he wanted nothing more than to protect his friends and keep them safe. More specifically, keeping Riz safe.

This must be why when he tried to summon it, wanting nothing more than to protect his best friend from the cold, Nar appeared quicker than it ever had.

In a rush of flames erupting from his sheet, Nar sprung to life in its sleek Elven shape of roiling flames. Immediately, it curled around Riz’s unconscious form. Adjusting the sheet around him before cupping his face and kissing his forehead.

A small spark of jealousy flared in Fabian’s chest as he rolled his eyes at his elemental’s cooing and doting.

Audibly clearing his throat so that Nar would pay attention to him, he gave a pointed nod at the fireplace. “Alright. If you’re quite finished with your little love fest over there, you have a job to do.”

Crossing its arms, Nar reluctantly left Riz’s side, not before one of their slender hands gave his curls one last ruffle. Without another word from Fabian, it dove into the hearth’s opening. Encompassing the stack of firewood and setting them ablaze. A tidal wave of heat crashed over him, almost to the point of pain against his icy, numb face.

Nar flowed out of the swelling fire to come to stand in front of Fabian, looking quite satisfied with itself. Rolling his eyes, Fabian gave it an obligatory round of claps, to which it did a ballerina’s curtsy before disappearing into his battlesheet.

Just as Fabian shook his head with a fond smile on his lips at his elemental’s dramatics, wondering where in Spyre it could’ve gotten that from, a small sigh pricked up his ears.

Whipping around just in time to watch as Riz sluggishly woke up. His eyelids opened to reveal golden gems, usually keen and hyperacute, now left hazy and weary by his levels of exhaustion. Yet they opened all the same.

“Riz!” Fabian’s heart leapt in his chest as he pulled the mattress closer to him and the fireplace.

“F’bian?” Riz murmured, looking like he was caught between wanting to curl up into the sheet further and sitting up to talk to him.

With a gentle hand placed on the center of Riz’s chest, Fabian guided him back to lying down. Maneuvering himself to sit behind the mattress and slightly above Riz. As not to force him to strain as they spoke.

Brushing a rebellious curl out of Riz’s sleepy face, Fabian said, “Yes, it’s me. How are you feeling?”

Riz heaved a shaky sigh, and Fabian’s heart skipped a beat as Riz leaned into the hand that’d lingered near his face. “Tired. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired.”

“And I’ve seen you not sleep for a month.”

Riz smiled at that memory. “Hehe, yeah, gotta be a record right?”

Yeah, Fabian’s memory of that whole ordeal was less fond.

It’d been over the summer last year, and Riz had gone into “deep cover” again. Only for Fabian to find him perched like a gargoyle underneath the Marigold Docks running on zero sleep and heaps of coffee.

Apparently, he’d been tailing someone for his Dad, official upper planes business. Fabian had hardly cared about the reasons Riz had blustered about when caught, he’d instead immediately cast Sleep at his highest spell slot. Making a Dex save directly after to catch Riz’s unconscious form before he fell into the river.

Riz had woken up hours later in Fabian’s bed more than unimpressed, but Fabian ignored his glares and grumbles. Only mentioning that his dad might prefer that Riz didn’t work himself to an early death, and his mother more so. That shut him up enough to eat the soup Cathilda had made him.

Hmm.

Fabian pursed his lips, still deep in thought. “Are you hungry, perchance?”

“Yeah, I could eat,” Riz answered, furrowing his brow as he sensed they got off-topic somehow. They widened a second later as he bolted upright. “Wait, the tome! Did it make it? Is it ruined?”

“The tome is fine, The Ball. Look see,” Fabian said, reaching over to where he discarded the thick, leather-bound book and presenting it to Riz. “You kept it perfectly safe.”

“Good, good, good,” He said as his body relaxed at the sight of the tome. As he laid back down, his eyes grew heavy and his voice drowsy as he said one last time, “Good.”

By the gods, Riz was adorable when he was tired. With a small smile on his lips, Fabian brushed a few of Riz’s curls from his face and readjusted the battle sheet upwards. “Don’t worry, you focus on resting up and I’ll—” He looked out into the desolate cottage, frowning. “—Find us something to eat.”

Scanning his eyes over the interior of the cottage again, Fabian couldn’t help the grimace that took over his face. Nothing to find but dust and dirt. And heading outside to hunt for food (something he’s never done in his life) definitely wasn’t an option. Oh, this night just wouldn’t end!

An ever-growing sense of fatigue settled over him and a huge yawn escaped his lips. He was just so tired. And his bones ached and muscles screamed at him every time he moved. But he couldn’t fall asleep. Not yet. Just one more thing to do. Find food and then sleep. That’s it. Just find some food.

The first place Fabian looked was in his backpack. Mainly because it meant that he didn’t have to stand back up just yet but also because there could be a couple portions of rations that he hadn’t eaten yet.

Rifling through it, all he managed to find was a bag of loose nuts and berries. Fig had gathered them a couple days ago and tried to figure out how to cast Goodberry. Though she never figured it out (no matter how many times she used the words and movements they’d seen her mother use), they were still berries. And nuts! And thus, food! Sure, they’re still a far cry from anything substantial, but discovering them gave Fabian a much-needed boost in energy.

No longer so hopeless and weary, he gave the cottage a more thorough look through. Opening up creaking, dusty cabinets and cupboards and looking under tables and benches. Until he realized one of the heavier sacks he tossed aside left a trail of scattered oats across the floor.

Oats!

Fabian dropped to his knees, his heart racing and breath bottled up in his chest and lifted the sack upright. Steadying it before he ripped its top seam open. Revealing an entire, large bag of thick rolled oats. Still hesitant, Fabian dipped a hand into the grain and lifted a scoop of it to his nose before letting it fall back into the sack through his fingers. It didn’t smell off. Didn’t look it either. No mould or rot of any kind. There was no way for him to be one hundred percent sure, but he was willing to take the chance.

Now, he isn’t about to act like he’s Spyre’s greatest chef, but he has watched Cathilda make him porridge enough times to know that even he can’t fuck up making oatmeal…. He’s pretty sure he can’t fuck it up…. He has burned water before….

Riz might be fucked.

But it’s worth a shot!

After grabbing a cast-iron cooking pot from beside the fireplace, Fabian ventured back outside into the blizzard to fill the pot with untouched snow. He brought it back inside and hung it on the hook above the livid, scarlet flames. Letting the snow melt and boil as he grabbed a wooden spoon from the kitchen and dragged the sack of oats closer to the fireplace.

Between Riz’s soft snores and the crackling of lit hearth, this moment was strangely peaceful and almost domestic. Safe from the raging snowstorm outside, Fabian sat next to Riz on the mattress. Wiping off the dust from the wooden spoon with his jacket. His gaze shifted from Riz to the pot to the spoon and back again.

Until the snow, now water, began to bubble and boil. Fabian then took the pot off of the hook over the fire and placed it on another away from it but still close enough to keep the water warm. Next, he carefully scooped out handfuls of oats and dropped them into the boiling water. Watching as they began to soften and thicken and cling to the spoon as he stirred. Slowly but surely, it became porridge before his eyes.

Click.

Fabian was startled out of his cooking reverie by the sound of a camera shutter behind him. He whipped around to see Riz, his cheeks still rosy and eyes filled with sleep, holding his crystal up and staring back at him with a lazy grin.

“The Ball!” Fabian said with a gasp. “You can’t take photos of man without telling him!”

Smug as can be, Riz grinned and said, “I just did.”

“You’re supposed to be resting!”

“I was.” He said defiantly before the photo he took on his crystal caught his attention again and his face and voice softened. “It’s just… you looked so content. And none of our friends will believe you cooked anything without photo evidence, so…”

“Alright, fine. But sit tight, it’s almost done.” Fabian peered over the lip of the cooking pot at the bubbling porridge within. His brow arched and lips pursed. “I think.”

Creeping forward until he reached Fabian’s side, Riz took a deep breath as he peered over the pot as well. “Smells good.”

“That’s promising.” Fabian said, following suit. The nutty and slightly sweet aroma filled his nose in short order. Hmm, yes. That does smell rather good. Chalk up another win for Fabian tonight. Stirring the pot with a little more pomp and self-satisfaction, Fabian went on, “I do have to admit that it’s going to be rather plain. All I have to add are some of the berries Fig found a couple days ago.”

“Oh! Wait,” Riz scurried over to the nigh-forgotten backpack and pulled his briefcase out of it. Clicking it open, he stuck an arm into the case and began to rummage through the infinite space within. “Remember the nice couple back near the base of the mountain?”

“You mean the throuple with the freaky ravens?”

“Yes, them. If I’m remembering correctly they kept a hive of bees and gave us—” He pulled out a glass container of something bright and golden and lifted it high in the air. “—Ah ha! Gave us some honey for the road!”

“Huzzah!” Fabian cried, throwing one of his arms up in the air with a little more flourish. “Here, come add it to the pot.”

Still wrapped in the battle sheet, Riz scampered over with the vial of honey. Uncorking it with his teeth, he poured the viscous, golden liquid into the steaming pot of thick oatmeal while Fabian mixed them together. The two of them breathed in the smell of oatmeal now with the added slightly floral smell of the honey and looked at each other with warm smiles. Perfect.

“Brillant as ever the Ball.” Fabian said as he picked up the pouch filled with boysenberries and walnuts and delicately sprinkled them on top of the oatmeal.

Riz shrugged and said with a wry smirk, “Well, I try.”

Huddled together on the mattress with the cooking pot between them, the two of them took turns eating spoonfuls of their dinner. Filling their stomachs with much-needed warmth and sustenance. Between the mouthfuls, they idly talked in hushed tones. Riz flipped through the tome that they stole. Explaining its relevance to their current adventure and theorizing what their plan should be in the morning to Fabian. Who was still only half listening.

Too wrapped up in gazing at how the fireplace’s flickering flames danced in Riz’s amber eyes and softened some of his harsh yet handsome features. Sue him. His best friend was cute. Not that Fabian could ever work up the courage to tell him to his face. He was still a coward in that regard. Far too afraid and confused to ruin what he and Riz have with all these pesky, lovey-dovey feelings. No, he was content to just watch. To keep safe. For now and forever.

Before long, the cooking pot was empty, only the sticky remnants of the oatmeal left clung to the pot’s insides, and their bellies were full. As Riz yawned, large and cat-like, Fabian moved to take the cooking pot and head back outside to fill it with more snow. Planning on washing it out with the boiled snow in the morning for their breakfast. Which, now that he thinks about it, will be a lot less tasty than their dinner. Thanks to them using up all their natural sweeteners.

Hmm.

Well, that was a problem for morning Fabian.

This Fabian was bone tired and wanted nothing more than to fall dead asleep. And he wasn’t the only one.

Once he got back in and hung the pot over the fire, when he went to say something to Riz, Fabian found him curled up on the mattress, passed out. Snoring the night away. Fabian smiled at the sight and gave a nod, more to himself than anything. Quest completed successfully. Time for bed.

As quietly as he could, Fabian brought one of the old wooden chairs over and placed it as close to the fire as he could get it. Settling himself down on it, he tried his best to get comfortable but eventually gave up and simply tried to get some sleep. Nodding off moments later to the sound of Riz’s snores and the glow of the firelight.

“Fabian?”

Maybe a couple hours later, Fabian awoke.

Groggy and half-asleep, he pried his eyes open to find a concerned, shivering Riz in front of him and a low burning fire to his side. And though it took his mind a moment to fire back up, Fabian jumped to his feet and rushed to the fireplace.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Clumsily reaching and fumbling for another log before tossing it into the hearth. “Sorry, The Ball. Just one moment.” Fabian said as he reached for the fire poker and started jabbing it into the log. Hazily wondering if he could give a fire bardic inspiration to last longer. He waved a hand at Riz. “Go back to bed, I’ve got it.”

But Riz didn’t move.

He stood there, bathed in the fiery orange glow of the hearth and asked, “Why were you sleeping on the chair?”

A beat.

“Where else I am supposed to sleep?” He answered with another question. Something he knew Riz hated unless he was the one doing it. Riz tilted his head to the side and he scrunched up his face before he took a pointed look at the mattress and then back to him. Fabian smiled queasily. “Oh, I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because, I—” Fabian gulped. “—I’d take up a lot of space. On the matress that is.”

“I woudn’t mind,” Riz said quickly, the words almost falling out of his mouth. “Goblins sleep in piles for warmth, even the ones that live up here in the cold. So…”

“Is that right?” Fabian asked. Riz nodded. Well… if he was fine with it. “Okay then.”

Timidly, Fabian followed Riz back to the mattress. Though he hesitated as he watched Riz get back under the battle sheet and the threadbare blanket.

Furrowing his brows, Riz reached out with his claws and gave his arm a tug. With his eight strength, it didn’t do much but urge Fabian forward. “We don’t have all night. Get in.”

“Alright, alright. Bossy much?” Fabian whined though he hurried to follow Riz’s orders. Slipping under the blanket and battle sheet, he had to stifle a groan as the magical heat of Nar sunk into his skin.

Almost instantly, Riz settled close to him, to his chest. Resting his head underneath Fabian’s chin before curling up into a ball, his tail winding around one of his legs. Without even thinking, Fabian wrapped his arms around him and tucked him deeper into the embrace, hiking up his knees to curl around him. It all felt so right. Like pieces of a puzzle slotting together. Perfect and satisfying. As if this was meant to be.

Finally at peace, Fabian basked in how correct this all felt. In the quiet of the cottage, the freezing wind still howling all around them, he’d never felt as untouchable as he did now. And looking down at Riz, an almost serene expression on his sleeping face, Fabian hoped he felt that way too.

One last thing, before he drifted off to sleep as well, Fabain kissed the top of Riz’s head and squeezed him a little tighter. Slipping off into unconsciousness, he only half noticed Riz squirming a bit in his hold before he felt a brush of lips on his jawline, heard a whispered, “Thanks, Fabes.”, and had one last thought.

Huh. Maybe someone heard his prayers after all.

And then,

Black.

Thank you so much for reading! This is my first d20 fic and though i know the fabriz fandom is quite small now, i look forward to enjoying Junior Year with all of you. Don't be a stranger! I'd love to hear what you think and if you have any requests, i'd be open to hearing and possibly writing them! Thanks again!

[cuddle-2-electric-boogaloo]

Unorthodox shelter

Part 1

Second part here

The blizzard had been raging for who knew how long. Certainly not Grace. She had been trapped out in the snowstorm in its entirety, but didn't bother keeping track of how long it went on for, only that she needed to get back home ASAP. But as she was succumbing to the subzero temperatures, that seemed like a wild fantasy. Her stride had reduced to a trudge, and she couldn't stop her body from violently shivering in a futile attempt to keep warm. And eventually, she keeled over and began to fall victim to hypothermia.

"Wait, is that...? Ah crap, it is."

The frigid ground beneath her quickly disappeared, as she felt herself be put in a much warmer, soft cave with regular puffs of warm but strangely scented air flowing over her freezing body. After a minute or so, she finally had the strength to move again, and she pushed herself against the new, comfortable ground in order to get her bearings.

"Oh, thank god, you're alive."

That sound was loud enough to give Grace the adrenaline needed to throw herself backwards slightly. Looking towards the source of the voice she saw a giant face peering down at her with green, almost glowing eyes, in his cupped hands which made up the 'cave' she was in.

"Shit, sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I want to help you. Even if..." He trailed off, looking away from her and grimacing slightly, while a third hand rubbed the scar covering the left side of his face. "Look, I'm a naga, so naturally I don't give off much body heat. And, well, the best way to keep you warm is to- uhh... to store you in my stomach."

Grace backed away from him as much as she could after hearing those last few words. Sure, she had heard tales of giant creatures keeping people safe by eating them, but how could she know that this would be one of them, or if she was destined to be nothing more than a wintry snack for the naga.

Seemingly knowing exactly what was going through her head, the giant said "OK, I know you have no reason to trust me, so I'll let you decide. I'll hold you up to my mouth. If you're ok with me eating you, crawl in. If not, back away and I'll keep you in my coat. At least then you'll be away from the constant snow." As he lifted her up towards his face, he continued, "Also, If you do choose to get in, could you please take of your boots? It's difficult to swallow them."

Once Grace reached his face, his jaws opened wide in anticipation of her potential entry. She stared into his gaping maw, with his forked tounge laying down on the base of his mouth, and droplets and strands of saliva forming on his razor sharp canines. All of this slightly pulsating in time with his slow, gentle breaths, each exhale coating her whole body with warm air and some tiny particles of spit.

Grace mulled over the naga's words in her mind. If he really just saw her as food, he wouldn't have given her the choice, and certainly not in this weather. Nagas are cold-blooded, and so naturally hate cold weather, so they wouldn't spend any more time than necessary out in it, and so he wouldn't waste time toying with her like this.

After putting some more thought into it, she decided to accept his offer. So she took off her boots and began to crawl into his awaiting mouth. As she set her hand down past his teeth, her woollen glove became immediately soaked in his drool, making it wet, and slimy and... so warm. So much warmer than it had been for hours now. She kept crawling in, over his teeth and onto his tounge, until she lay down in his mouth, fully inside it. At this point, the naga's lips closed gently behind her, followed very soon by his teeth, making her much more snug in her temporary enclosure. It was now almost pitch black in his mouth, with the slight light permeating his mouth allowing her to barely make out the fleshy tunnel that was his throat, and soon to be her journey.

A few seconds after, a sound coming from within his body shook her whole body. It had a rising pitch to it, so Grace took it as him asking her if she was ready for her descent.

"Y-yeah..." she murmered with the strength she had gathered from the warmth of the naga's maw, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear. Sure enough, she felt gravity shifting as he tilted his head back, preparing to send her down to his stomach. She began to slip downwards to the back of his mouth, and as he began the motions of swallowing, her outstretched arms were caught by his throat muscles, and began pulling her down his gullet. She snagged one final, deep breath before her head was engulfed by his flowing muscles, and she truly began her slow descent.

Her journey down his esophagus was... much more pleasant than she first imagined. The muscles around her gently massaging her deeper into the naga's body, so warm and soft while doing so. She was also happy to know that it wasn't impossible to breathe during her descent, which made it slightly easier, but there was absolutely no denying that it provided no leeway for adjusting herself, so she was glad she didn't change her position after entering his mouth.

Very soon, she found her hands become much more free as her descent slowed slightly, so she concluded that she must be about to enter his stomach. And she was right, as her head passed through the sphincter, until very soon her whole body had been deposited in this fleshy cradle within his belly.

As she regained her bearings, she noticed the dimly glowing shallow pool of liquid she was sitting in. She initially panicked, thinking it to be some deadly concoction of acids and enzymes, but her rationality told her that if it were, she would feel something by now. She could hear a gentle heartbeat above her, under the groans and growls of her current domain, followed by an audible exhale followed by a voice that completely surrounded her.

"Ok, there we go, nice and safe. You get comfy in there and I'll let you out once I get home."

She saw one of the stomach walls press inwards slightly, no doubt from her guardian pressing one of his four hands on his belly.

Despite what Grace initially thought, it was surprisingly easy to relax in his stomach. The churning stomach walls massaged her body, the strange, luminescent liquid providing a soft, comforting glow, the sounds of his stomach and heartbeat surprisingly relaxing and the soft warmth providing a very welcome change from the biting cold outside.

And as a result of these factors, and against her better judgement, Grace couldn't help but to find herself gently drifting off to sleep.

It's finally here! The story I promised like 3 weeks ago. Part 1. Yeah there's more to it that I didn't want to put into one post.

Anyway, the currently unnamed naga is one of the most significant characters in my big world that I'm gonna be writing (I need to name it. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated) so expect to see a LOT more of him in the future.

Anyway (again), hope you enjoyed and stay tuned for part 2, which will introduce another very VERY important player for the story.

- Adam

P.S. gonna be tagging these stories with #the vore lore™️ just fyi

P.P.S. also gonna be writing character sheets for them once I write the second part, and if you're lucky you might also get art if I feel confident enough with it

[dundunny]

Diablo IV done. In July I sat down for about nine hours straight playing it and got severe carpal tunnel that lasted for months, which in retrospect is nuts because I injured myself for a game that's only... OK.

I think the issue with Diablo is it should have ended after II. Any extensions to the plot feel forced. Let's step back to III for a bit. I actually would get angry playing the game because of all the retconning happening, which Blizzard did to justify moving this forward. However it ended (particularly with the expansion pack) with the revelation the player is a Nephalem and a heavy hint that from now on the Nephalem would be wrenching humanity's fate back from angels and demons, setting up the next game. Which is crazy because I don't think the word "Nephalem" was mentioned a single time in IV. Although I could see connections between III and its predecessors, no matter how much I disliked the story, IV feels more detached. Cain's dead, and Diablo himself appears I think for maybe half a second in a cutscene. Of course Tristram was shoveled in needlessly, but it feels like we're doing that by rote at this point.

It terms of plot itself it's... it's fine. There's nothing terrible about it, I think it was better than III actually just because it didn't upset me. Lilith is all right as a villain, although I think for a "mother" she's very eager to kill her children, but I guess for her ultimate survival is more important. Starting from II, each act in a Diablo game is in a different area, and IV is no different except you can walk to any location from the beginning of the game (although you may be underleveled) and there are six areas, therefore six acts. Normally each of these is fleshed out, but toward the end I think they were rushing it. I actually timed myself, I beat act IV in a 1.25 hours. I didn't even go to the major town there because the plot didn't direct me toward it. At some point I'm like why did you even make this a separate thing?

The only major criticism I have of the game though is why I was rushing: You max out your level way too early on. Kind of. So you level up normally and unlock abilities all the way to 50. Once you hit 50, it stops and you can just add stats. That's fine, but all the enemies cap at 50. You can increase the difficulty to hard... but to go above that, you gotta beat the game. And I hit 50 toward the end of act II. Meaning I had trudge through four more of these without facing much opposition. And it's not like I was grinding; I just did all the sidequests and extra dungeons I found along the way. I don't see the point of preventing me to have a greater challenge should I wish. Overall I did find IV to be much easier than III, even when I wasn't overpowered. Like remember those enemies that would drop rotating arcane beams on the floor and you had to retreat so you wouldn't die? Yeah, that's not an issue anymore.

In terms of gameplay it's... again, OK. It's Diablo, we all know what it's about by this point. They changed up the abilities a bit in that you can put whatever one you want on any key, including the base attack on say... 1 or 2 instead of on the mouse. It allows for greater flexibility for fighting style and experimentation. But I think III was more fun. Take for example the witch doctor. You could make your base attack a jar of spiders. That was hilarious and enjoyable. I'm not feeling the same in this game.

Also with the environment. III had some pretty crazy areas. Like remember Cydaea? As you went down her web, there were all these giants in bondage gear in the back. Or finally going up to heaven and it had this weird, glass-like quality? IV is just miserable. Here's Russia where everyone is starving and cold. Next is Scotland where everything is muddy and wet. And then there's the desert, again, and after following Zultan Tulle so much in III I'm tired of that. Nothing really stroked my interest until we got to hell, and even then it was... aight. I mean, we've gone to hell in pretty much each game so you need to create something that's really gonna wow me at this point.

Maybe it's because I'm getting older or perhaps because the world feels awful now, but there's something about the helplessness you see in Diablo games that are getting to me. There's no happiness even after you help people; you try to find a cure for someone but it turns out it's too late and they transform into a monster you have to kill. You help a child find their parents' grave, and their ghosts come and attack you, blaming the child for "leaving them alone." A man is looking for his son, and upon finding him, he's transformed into a demon, rejecting his father's love and cursing him. It gets to the point that you wonder how humanity has survived. Like for example, how does trade even exist with all these giant scorpions, murderous trees, bandits, werewolves, and fourteen-foot snakes are running around. You see countless bodies rotting on the ground wherever you go. Like back in Diablo I, yeah shit was terrible, but you get the sense that wasn't the norm and what was happening under the church is an unusual situation. Now in IV it feels like this happens all the time and there's no hope left. You come out of it feeling worse than before.

In the end, if you like Diablo, sure, play it. There's nothing offensive about it, but it doesn't particularly shine in any aspect. I wanted to do the post-game stuff, but my carpal tunnel started flaring up whenever I did, so whatever. I'll move onto Final Fantasy XVI now.

[chickenscript]

The April to Their Mad Dog

Anon: Idk if you'll like this prompt but here's an idea for the rottmnt mud dogs: Human!Reader being to Mud Dogs what April is to Turtles Bois. HCs or a one shot--- I'll honestly eat ANYTHING bc I love mud dogs so much. (Also, I hope ur doing okay)

A/N: i love this! and i love the mud dogs and the fact the 2012 vas came back to voice them (*ﾉ▽ﾉ) Also thank you anon for the concern- I've been doing okay lately. Just a bit stressed by life stuff! also, i want to do some hcs in the future too for the muds dogs so look out for that!

You were cold. And tired.

But, there were three stinky, troublesome and flat broke wannabe crooks who needed you. Well, needed your wallet because they were pinching pennies and had no cash for food.

You grunted as you trudged through the muck of the sewer they were squatting in.

They used to live in the Mystic City- a place they’ve told you sparingly about. Mostly Mickey would. The others required some pestering before they would regale their time there to you. Something about feeling bitter toward the place because they had no good luck pulling off schemes when they were living there.

Which turned around when they came topside.

As if NYC didn't already have a full plate.

You made it to the end of the tunnel and about time too because you could never bear the smell for very long.

There was a large, metal door before you and you gave it a series of knocks before the rectangular peephole slid open.

"Password?" came Danny's thick Jersey boy accent as he peered at you with those cynical eyes of his.

You blustered your lips.

"Dan- you called me to shop for you guys." you pouted, usually you wouldn’t be so disgruntled to visit but not only did you come all this way, but in a blizzard no less.

Danny rolled his eyes, "Aight, aight; come on in toots."

The door slot closed, and the hunk of metal made a few deep and hollow clangs and thuds before giving way and letting you into their scummy hideout.

You hurried in and went to plop the haul you got for the mutants down in their mix shift kitchenette. With a sigh, you relished in how cozy it felt in the lair and mentally thanked that time you helped them snag some old heaters you found on the curb outside your apartment building.

"You guys owe me. It feels 5 below out there." you whined as you patted some life back into your red, frosty cheeks.

Danny chuckled and stood beside you, cooly leaning on the kitchenette's island.

"Isn't bein in our presence payment enough?" he winked with his classic smirk.

You gave him a pointed look.

"Not all the time." you pulled off your scarf and snow laden jacket, more than ready to kick back for a while until the howling storm outside wasn’t so bad.

Dan sighed dramatically, "Come on now, no need to act all prickly. Thought we were pals."

“You try walking through a blizzard and bein’ cheery about it afterward Dan. It’s enough to freeze your tail off out there.” you hung your jacket on the back of one of the island chairs; all of which weren’t the same and barely matched the kitchen. 

Danny started poking around the groceries and plucked out a can of soup, “Well, you know what would happen if anybody up there saw the likes of us without one of those fancy smancy cloakin’ broaches.” the rat mutant had less humor in his voice than before as he read the back of the soup can.

But he stopped and looked at you with a surprisingly soft smile.

“Thank you for gettin us all this darlin’.” even though he sounded more casual again like usual, he also seemed surprisingly genuine.

Truthfully you really didn’t mind doing this much for them. You couldn’t consciously bear it if they were seen and carted off like science experiments by the government. And, you wouldn't know what to do knowing these dummies were in harms way.

“I’d say it was no problem at all but,” you took off one of your snow boots and turned it upside to let a lump of slush fall out of it.

“that would be a stretch.” you said with your own smile.

Danny had a snicker at that and Mickey slithered over to see what all the chuckles were about.

“Hey! When’d you get here and why was I like the last to know?” he asked you before giving Danny an accusing glance for not telling him you arrived sooner. 

You didn’t even answer before he dove right into the grocery bags.

“I just got here Mick and don’t make a mess, huh?” you tittered at his excitement as you tried to balance while you yanked off your other boot and rolled off your socks so you could hang those up too.

Mickey’s head fins were lighting up with sparks as he sifted around, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth. He nodded at you before squawking with glee when he found the bloodworms you picked up for him. 

You found out some mutants had odd eating habits on day one with these guys.

You stood by as Danny and Mickey began to brainstorm about what they would have for dinner tonight, chipping in a couple ideas before letting your eyes wander in search of the third member of their trio. He was sitting on the couch still, watching tv with a lackluster expression.

You learned from being friends with the boys for a decent amount of time now that despite how cloudy Leonard seemed, he wasn’t so bad when you got to know him.

“Hey Lenny boy! You joinin’ us or what?” Danny hollered to his green pal.

Leonard gruffed and looked over at you all before getting up and moseying on over with his hands in his front pockets.

He saw the spread of groceries you got for them- it was enough to have them stocked for the next week- and gave a little huff as he looked down at you.

“Thanks.” 

You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you would try to return the favor. Maybe.” your smile had turned into a smirk.

They all had a little laugh and even Leonard cracked a snaggle toothed smile.

Danny rubbed his hands together, “So, what we havin’ tonight?” he was the cook among them and he looked ready to whip something up right then as he tied on a tattered apron.

You took a seat and watched as a new discussion sparked between the three of them now on what would be the best dish to go with. Of course, you knew if there was a way to get pizza today they would’ve jumped at the chance.

You snickered under your breath. That was one of the quirks that you liked about them. Their strange but fun disposition. They may be a group of bungling burglars, but they were charming and nice to be around like this. They felt more real than anyone you’d ever known. 

Some people would disagree and wonder why you stuck around anyone of this ilk, but you knew they were just trying to find ways to scrape for cash.

That and they were different than they were down in Mystic City. They went from stealing for themselves to stealing to help others too- they were like their own Robin hood troop. Something you like to think you had a hand in. And, so long as they kept it up you would be there for them like today.

After all, you probably wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for bumping into them. The friendship afterward was just collateral damage. 

Suddenly all eyes were on you as you apparently became the deciding vote on food and you giggled at their expectant faces.

The type of collateral damage you could never be upset about.

[thatdragonsdrabbles]

D&D Character Backstory Commission (warning: character death)

(Details about my writing commissions here)

.

Clem's story started, as most dwarves do, in the ground. Expertly carved stone stretched from floor to ceiling in the home of his clan, smooth and unbroken. A simple comfort, for a dwarf. Adventure held the appeal of an exciting road trip, when you had a place to return to afterwards. When he wasn't striking heated metal under the strict eye of the master smith, Clem ventured into the outer caverns, where the stone was rough and treacherous beneath inexperienced feet. But sore muscles and a few bruises couldn't dull the glittering of the precious ore he brought back. This provided material to further his education, and the beginnings of a wanderlust at odds with the pride he had in his home.

As a rule, a dwarf never mined new areas alone. After all, unfamiliar stone could conceal hidden dangers. Handfuls of them would go out to retrieve crafting materials. Often, Clem found himself on the same team as Gurdis. Her favorite treasure tended to match the blue of her eyes. She was also quite fond of tripping him with her pickaxe. They bickered for hours over ideal mining spots, and who received what material to craft into merchandise at the market. By the time they were young adults, they bickered over who would propose first. (Clem would. Not that Gurdis would ever admit it.) They always had something to argue about in their house. It was wonderful! Home was where the stubborn, immovable rock, that never let you forget that one time you lost an argument about the price of a pair of sapphire earrings, was.

.

The flow of trade in and out of the caverns never ceased. Surface dwellers' need for stone, metal and gems was unending, and dwarves like Clem would rather avoid any and all water-based travel. Humans were eager to sail anyway—especially to places they shouldn't. This mysterious urge never quite made sense to Gurdis either. Steep, dangerous mountainsides, sure, that was a good Tuesday night. Churning waters with nary a rock in sight? Hard pass. Still, it made for interesting stories at the market.

The only reason Clem remembered any stranger's name past a transaction was to prove or deny their usefulness to Gurdis. She was particularly adamant that a human named Elliot Stillwater was crap at metalwork, but had a better eye for precious gems than Clem did. “Well, of course he's a crap smithy, he's not even fifty,” Clem pointed out. “Could hardly expect a child to know how to temper a blade worth anything at the market.” But he took offense to the other accusation. He'd live around rocks and gems for his entire life! If some human child knew more about them than he did, he'd eat his hat!

Clem stopped wearing hats. It became apparent that he'd picked a fight with, as Elliot put it, a “total nerd.” Humans on the surface apparently had an entire college dedicated to the study of every rock under the sun and the earth. This one in particular had a vested interest in how dwarves utilized them—hence his frequent visits. When Gurdis asked why he didn't leave when Clem started interrogating him every few minutes, Elliot said he “loved pop quizzes.” No matter how many times Clem denied it, the human regrettably referred to him as a close friend.

.

The first time Clem traveled on the surface for days was to do a heist.

Elliot wouldn't shut up about this dwarven axe that once belonged to Clem's clan but was stolen by some raiders centuries ago. It now sat in some human's fort on the surface as a trophy of conquest. Gurdis was adamant it be returned. Clem knew Elliot couldn't tell a dwarf's handiwork from an orc's. But his wife just wouldn't let it go. Eventually he turned to her and declared he would get the axe himself if it meant she'd finally believe him. She told him he wouldn't make it a day on the surface. And that's how they found themselves joining Elliot's trade group for a little detour. The fort welcomed them without fuss. Gleefully, Elliot pointed it out as they passed through the mess hall. Clem's expected triumph withered away when he realized that, not only was the axe of dwarven make, it was a treasured heirloom of his clan. And it sat several meters above a roaring fireplace. Gurdis got that smug look on her face...

Two pickaxes, a sudden musical number, a broken wall, and a runaway cart later, Clem was telling Elliot to shut his gob while strapping the axe to his back. He didn't even attempt silencing Gurdis, who had been crowing her triumph even while dismantling the fort wall. At least the feast thrown by the clan elder at the axe's return made the hassle worth it. That, and they got to watch Elliot get absolutely sloshed on dwarven mead. Served him right.

This little adventure, unfortunately, had motivated the human to bring more opportunities to his doorstep. Apparently there was a treasure trove of dwarven items to be returned. And when those slowed to a trickle, Elliot convinced them to participate in other 'liberation efforts.' They were getting rather talented at it, after all. Robbery after break-in after heist followed. A reputation began to build, of “a chatty charlatan and his gruff dwarf bodyguards 'liberating' artifacts.” Clem regretted ever listening to him.

.

Nalesha Ernathrevar was only one of many “acquaintances” that Elliot brought to Clem and Gurdis' shop. She wasn't the first half-elf, or druid, to propose returning dwarven belongings to their rightful place. Once before, she had happily caused them to trek through spider-ridden woods for what turned out to be nothing. Gurdis had particularly hated that trip. But Nalesha did bring them the first underground adventure. A nearby cavern had collapsed, burying precious cargo and several bodies beneath rubble. Some high elves had been traveling to return a long lost hammer, as a show of good faith. Gurdis once again couldn't let it go, and Clem decided for the nth time to shut her up by proving her wrong. Of course they wouldn't find some incredible hammer just sitting under some rocks! It was going to be a waste of time, he knew it. Gurdis told him to stay home if he was so certain. He refused, of course. If nothing else, they could do some mining in the area so they didn't return home empty-handed.

Smalltalk was plentiful on the way. Gurdis argued with Clem about Nalesha's earrings. Nalesha complimented Elliot's adventuring spirit. Clem quizzed Nalesha on the hammer they were retrieving. He was becoming more and more convinced that this was a fool's errand. She didn't even know the hammer's name. Elliot pointed out she wouldn't know much about metal weapons anyway, being a druid.

“What's that got to do with anything?” Gurdis' sharp voice carried through the tunnel. Clem, bringing up the rear, told her to quiet down.

“Druids don't carry metal on them,” Elliot explained, falling into that annoying scholarly tone of his. Gurdis came to a halt, allowing him and Nalesha to pass her. “Y'see, they're concerned with the balance of nature. They can't use anything they consider “unnatural,” like metal or—” He nearly bumped into the half-elf when she stopped ahead of him. “Nalesha? What's wrong?”

She ignored him, peering back at Clem and Gurdis. “Is something the matter, friend?”

At first, Clem expected his wife to begin crowing about a new victory. But Gurdis wasn't dredging up an old argument. Eyeing him, she remained where she stood. “Then what is our druid friend here doing with metal earrings?”

Elliot frowned, as if it hadn't occurred to him to ask until now. He turned. Clem moved, but his wife was faster. Two shouts, a flash of metal, the thunk of a bolt, and an outraged cry later, Clem was telling Elliot to run while flinging his pickaxe at Nalesha. The half-elf sank to the ground at the same time as Gurdis, but not before lifting her arms with the crackle of magic. The tunnel roared, until treacherous stone collapsed. But Clem refused to give up. Shouldering and tossing aside the rubble, he unearthed his wife, breath wet and ragged. He dropped to his knees, arguing that she shouldn't have leapt in front of him like that.

Baring her teeth, Gurdis choked, “Told... die protecting... first...” Clem searched for something, anything to stop the bleeding. This wasn't an argument he wanted her to win.

.

Within a candlemark, there was no one to bicker with him anymore.

.

His boots had echoed oddly on the way back from the rough tomb, leading him to a house alien in its emptiness. The still air had never driven him mad before. When it proved too much, he found his hand on his axe and his foot out the door. Days and nights, he dug. Whispered “I told you so”s and the shriek of steel on stone following him through the caverns. It was just as well. Dwarves never mined new areas alone.

Excavation later ferreted out the truth. Hidden beneath Nalesha's layers was the emblem of a cunning spider, denoting a dedication to malevolent forces. Whatever her sinister plot, it had been foiled by Gurdis' discovery and Clem's axe. But he was inconsolable. He should've realized it was odd of a self-proclaimed druid to only commune with spiders. That Elliot didn't know a lick about anything other than rock and earth. He should've decided, this time, to refuse this retrieval job. But he hadn't. Taking out the one responsible had brought little comfort to the grieving dwarf. Carving and polishing Gurdis' grave marker brought no relief. Asking why us, why her, why not me did little good.

Finally, Clem packed what little was necessary, and left.

.

Squinting against the blizzard, the dwarf trudged through an alien, wintery land. Ice and snow stretched across the land, smooth and unbroken. It brought no comfort.

Until Moradin judged him as having served his penance, it was what he deserved.

[whiskeyworen]

Nothing was right here. It all felt wrong. ALL of it. No matter where she patrolled in the Marches, she always felt like she was being watched (they are watching you.). It was eerie. When she was alone at camp, she could feel it as an itch in her neck. A tingle in her gauntlets. The thorns in them even seemed to bite a bit harder in the cold. (It is the Kodan. They can’t be trusted.) It had to be the Kodan. I mean, these...people...were living in Drakkar’s backyard, possibly only a hundred miles or so from wherever Jormag itself was sleeping. Every time there’s a Dragon nearby, the locals aren’t what they seem to be. It never failed. (They’ve fallen to Jormag. Trust me.) It didn’t help they kept doing weird things. In one single patrol, Sonnya had run into some of the strangest encounters, each one setting her ears back and her skin crawling. All of them featuring those damned Kodan... She’d been crossing the lake (carefully, since Drakkar might have been able to hear her moving), when she found half a dozen Kodan just...sitting there. They were in a kind of circle, but loose, like they’d nearly formed the circle but just gave up. Each one was tiredly looking around, but from what she could see none of them had their eyes open. Actually, scratch that; they couldn’t see at all because their eyes were entirely encrusted in ice, and sealed closed. (They were blinded by their belief in Koda. So Jormag blinded them in turn) They all asked her, one after another, to read from a book. Somehow, they’d all pointed at the same spot in the snow and ice, where sure enough, a rime-crusted book lay. Sonnya picked up the book, reluctantly glancing around at the quiescent, listening Kodan, and opened it. She didn’t recall what she read at all, but when she stopped blinking her weeping, tear-crusted eyes, tears frozen to her cheeks by the wind, all the Kodan were gone. There was no sign they’d ever actually been there. No disturbance in the snow. She could see where she walked up to them, from her own prints...but none of theirs. And the book itself had vanished from her hands. When Sonnya checked her armor’s clock, she found that more than forty minutes had passed. Forty minutes she couldn’t recall. And on top of that, her suit’s heaters had been turned way down. Those damned Kodan did something to her. (of course they did) Messed with her head. Then there was that encounter with the weird carving Kodan in the ruins of that old Ice Ship. Her patrol that day had meant Sonnya had to wander the streets and tunnels of that broken, frozen ruin. That’s when she stumbled upon him in front of a long sheet of ice, in some dark alleyway of the wreck. He had his back to her and was chipping quickly, furtively, at the wall. It didn’t look like he was trying to cut a block out or anything, or repair some damage. When she tried to edge closer, to get a better look, he spun on her, screaming that it wasn’t ready yet, and to just give him some time. Ears back, skin crawling, she did. She couldn’t pass him until he was done anyway; the way he crouched, and how he’d reacted to her even at a distance meant she couldn’t get close to him to pass him. (they’re all tainted) Eventually the sound of ticking and scraping had died away, and the Kodan sighed in relief, stepping back from whatever he’d done. “Okay... It is done. You can see it now. Tell me what you think of it?” So she stepped close to the wall, keeping an eye on him as she did so. He just stood there, smiling pleasantly. He looked exhausted, but happy. Sonnya frowned, and turned her attention to the wall. To her surprise, he hadn’t carved some insignia, or graffiti, or anything. Instead, in tightly packed, extremely hard to read Tyrian, something had been scrimshawed into the ice. It was so unbelievably small and tightly-spaced that she had to lean right in before she could read it properly. I waited for Sonnya Danae to turn her back. And then I tore her throat out... The first line alone was enough to send a shock of ice right down her spine; Sonnya had definitely not told this Kodan her name. She hadn’t even spoken to him. There was absolutely no way this bear, so far from civilization, detached from even its own people, could have learned her name. The second line had her seeing red. In a heartbeat, her weapons were drawn, her implants going to the limits of safety, all defenses up. She would annihilate him if he even attempted to touch her. (Not Strong Enough) He was still behind her, uncomfortably close, as he had been before she read the note. But he still stood there, arms crossed, a blissful glaze in his eyes as he smiled. With a sigh, he admitted that he was inspired by something in the wind. Like the blowing of the wind had woken a thought in his mind, and he simply had to act on it. So he’d carved what it said to him, so he could have someone else read it. Sonnya slowly backed away from the Kodan carver, not saying a thing, even as the polar bear’s euphoria-glazed eyes tracked her until she disappeared around a corner. She immediately went back to base, and asked to be relieved of duty that day. (Not Strong Enough) Now, there was THIS encounter. Sonnya had trudged her way through a blizzard, once again alone on patrol (damn those new recruits, getting lost and dying in the snows) when she came upon... tragedy. There was no other way to describe it. It looked, to her eyes, like an entire village of Kodan had abandoned their shelters, and come out near this rock, on the edge of the lake. There they’d just...stayed, until they collapsed from the cold, or sank to their knees and died. There were a few that seemed to have even just lay down and fallen asleep in the snow. But there was one survivor left. He stood before.... before the focus of whatever had drawn his village out. Alchemy knows what he was seeing, because he talked to it as if it was an old friend, a family member. He even turned to greet her tiredly and ask her to come chat as well. It was an idol of Jormag. The ice it was made of almost glowed with corrupted power, and the basalt pillar it curled around was engraved with glowing, sky-blue runes. Sonnya stared at the idol, feeling the power wafting off it. The eyes of the dragon on it seemed to consider her. Maybe it was a trick of the blurring snow, the chill wind against her eyes making them water, but for a moment, just a moment, it looked like the thing smiled at her. Not an evil leer, or a grimace, but an almost pleasant smile that left her with a moment of warmth....before the Kodan beside her spoke again and she snapped back to reality. She didn’t say anything to him. Instead, she stepped forward, and amping up her implants to a safe, high power level, she swung a right hook into the side of the idol. The sheer force her implants and armor imparted to the strike blew an entire, fist-sized section out of the pillar, and shattered an entire coil of the dragon on it.  Its magic now disrupted, the idol folded in on itself collapsing in a small detonation of light and sound. That last Kodan blinked bleary eyes, looked around, and realized his kinsmen were frozen. Dead. He looked at the Vigil soldier who stood before him, her eyes hard as ice, her fists encased in cold fire, and recognized her displeasure. He beat a swift retreat, as she began to attend to the dead. (Not Strong Enough) She wasn’t strong enough yet. She felt weak still. (Harden your heart. Make it a fortress.) There was work to be done. Emotions couldn’t be allowed to rule her. She told herself this, even as she excavated a hole with her scepter’s power, carving a great furrow in the permafrost for bodies. (Harden it like ice. Ice protects. It fortifies. It LASTS) This place wouldn’t break her. But she didn’t have to like being here. She really didn’t like it at all. Too much was ‘wrong’ here.

[thepelagoislands]

New Island: Pruina Rock

@summertidesun​ | @dancing-lxghts​

In the distance, there is fog. From your small boat, you can see a mass of fog lined with a shore of white and topped with the jagged tops of bare mountains. This doesn’t look like normal fog at all, either. Not with the way it remains frozen in place, like crystal. Not in the way it’s completely opaque and nearly solid. After a few moments of sailing towards it, you spot a long, black pier jutting out from the fog. The pier is large, intricate, like it used to house hundreds of ships in a time long since passed. 

And after you step onto the dock and wander closer to this white shore and fog...you’ll notice that they aren’t either of those things. The shore isn’t made of white sands. It’s simply a normal shore coated entirely in a thick, fluffy layer of snow. And the fog that you see isn’t a fog at all. What lies before you and your companions is what looks to be a blizzard, completely frozen in time. Millions of thick snowflakes, each one intricate and different in design, sit unmoving in midair. The illusion of fog is simply these snowflakes sitting at a standstill. And if you touch or move these snowflakes, they simply melt on contact, the cold water trailing down your skin like normal. 

The ground is coated in snow, the accumulation reaching up to at least knee level on an averaged sized person. It is quiet, like an average day at sea.

> I Actually Hate This

> I Wanna Find Elsa

As you walk through the frozen blizzard, you leave something akin to a tunnel behind you, a straight path through the snowflakes in your shape. All the while, there seems to be no indication of any pathways or signs of any sort. If there was a pathway, it has long been buried in the snow, and you are simply trudging in a straight direction in the hope of finding something. 

However, as you reach further and further into the island, there’s a sudden shift in the air. First, it’s the rumble of the ground. Then, it’s the smell of ice. Then, the temperature, while already cold in this snowy tundra, drops way below freezing.

And the moment is finalized with a long, deafening roar.

And just as the roar finishes, the snowflakes all around you begin to move. It’s slow at first. The snowflakes slowly begin to twitch out of their time frozen state, and then they start to fall one by one, and then even more fall from the sky, and then the wind begins to pick up. The process takes several moments to take shape, but even if you’re running back at full sprint, you would never be able to outrun it. The time frozen blizzard has begun once more, and you are caught up in the middle of it.

You find yourself completely lost, unable to gather your bearings. You can try to make a break for it back to the pier, but you can’t seem to find it anymore. You can barely even see your hand if it’s outstretched in front of you, and if your companions aren’t keeping close by, it’s too easy to get separated and lost in this blizzard. And the longer your stay out exposed like this, the more in danger you are of getting hypothermia or worse. 

Finally, after countless moments of searching aimlessly, you see a faint yellow light in the distance. And as you walk towards this light, you’ll find that it is an  electric lamppost, standing tall outside of a small, wooden cabin. 

As you enter this cabin, you find a dark, abandoned cabin. Faint white light casted by the blizzard outside casts a dim light from clouded windows, faintly illuminating a large, unlit fireplace with a stack of clean-cut wood sitting in a pyramid beside it. Beside the front door is a small coat rack containing two thick, heavy coats. On the far side of the room is a long, rectangular table with a large map sitting unfurled upon it. And in the corner of the room is a large bed with countless blankets piled on top of it. It’s just as cold as it was outside in this little cabin, but lighting the fireplace will easily rectify that after some time. If any of your companions were separated from you in the blizzard, they too will eventually find this cabin, albeit in a more dire state, due to their longer exposure to the blizzard winds. 

The unfurled map in the far side of the room is hand drawn, painstakingly scrawled by hand. Water damage is visible on this map, and it looks like it’s been drenched in water and subsequently dried countless times. And the lines are drawn on top of each other over and over again, each individual line jagged and shaken like they were drawn by a shaky hand in the middle of the blizzard. 

The top of the map reads Pruina Rock, and it has a very rough outline of what you assume the entire island’s perimeter is. Marked in red in the center of the island is a sketchy drawing of a cabin, and this cabin has been circled multiple times. And from this cabin are multiple pathways, all marked in red with what looks like to be flags drawn along the paths.

There are multiple copies of this map rolled up in the corner of the table.

There are four destinations marked in total: The Docks, Wep’keer, The Summit, and The Den.

Travelling

Once you decide on a destination to venture to from this cabin and between locations, you can follow the directions provided by the map. As you travel by the map, you’ll find multiple wooden posts along the correct paths, a red scarf tied to each one. They will be your markers along the journey. 

However, the journey is not completely infallible. Roll the following to see whether you complete your journey safely:

t!choose safe | safe | safe | monsters

If you are to roll monsters, then from the blizzard, multiple shadows will appear all around you. They take the shape of large, shadowed foxes with bright blue eyes. And they’ll team up on you and your companions to attempt to defeat you in combat. Immediately, your map is torn from your hands and tossed to the wind, so even if you defeat your foes, you’ll be unable to navigate correctly.

Roll the following to find where you end up, should you roll a monster roll.

t!choose cabin | wep’keer | summit | den

The Docks

Upon your arrival at the docks, you’ll be right where you started. You’ll be free to leave without harm. And as you leave, you’ll see the blizzard slow before it freezes once again.

Wep’keer

As you near the destination marked Wep’keer, you’ll notice several different yellow lights, the same as the light that came from the abandoned cabin. And as you grow closer and closer, you’ll find a few buildings clustered close together, like it was the tiniest village in existence. Around these three buildings are the snow-covered foundations of new buildings, all incomplete. This town was obviously meant to be much larger, and it was in the process of building up its size. All of these buildings are abandoned in a similar fashion to the cabin, though each building has its own items within.

The General Store

You’ll find a completely cleared out general store, all emptied of stock. It looked as though this was a smaller store, only meant for a small amount of visitors and not anything stocked for a heavy amount of traffic. The only thing remaining inside is a small flyer swept under the front counter. It’s an advertisement to visit Wep’keer, a new village promising just the same amount of opportunity that Leuda did, and also promising a strong mining opportunity. 

Small Home

There is a small home with a door slightly ajar, and on the inside, it’s completely covered in snow. There is a small, golden necklace tucked away in the corner of the room. If worn, this necklace will curse the holder to only speak the truth for as long as it is worn.

Mining Company

The largest complete building is what looks to be the main building for a budding mining company. On the outside reads the following in ornate, blue letters: The Wep’keer Mining Company. On the inside, there is a front desk with two doors beside it. There are other doors, but the rooms past these doors have long since collapsed from the snow accumulation. The door on the right leads to a larger room with multiple beds, obviously mean to house any workers. The door on the left, however, leads to a stockroom filled with countless gems and ore.

In the center of this stockroom, however, is the most peculiar thing of all. There is a floating blue flame in the center of the room. And this flame has a nearly hypnotic quality to it. The more you look at it, the more you feel warm and drawn to it, growing closer and closer to it. And you start to forget about anything outside of this flame. It will only have this effect on the first person who sees it, and none of the rest of you. You won’t notice any of your other companions if they enter and talk to you. You won’t notice as the blue flame begins to cast a long shadow on the ground in the shape of a fox. 

Eventually, the white figure of an impossibly large, twelve tailed fox will appear from the shadows. As you sit distracted by this flame, the fox will scoop you into its mouth. And the only thing you can feel is the slow realization of what is happening, and just as you begin to panic, everything goes dark.

To everyone else who bears witness to this, they will only see you lifelessly get lifted into the mouth of a fox. And just as they move to attack, the fox will slowly melt back into a shadow on the floor, taking you with it. And once the fox is gone, the blue flame will go out.

The companion who was taken by the fox will awaken in The Den.

The Summit

This path will eventually lead uphill through the blizzard, and eventually after a long while of walking, you will emerge from the top of this blizzard fog and be heading towards the summit of one of the many tall, pointed tips of a mountain. The path is very long and treacherous, but at the very top of this mountain lies a large, flat circle. And in the center of this circle is what appears to be a shrine. It sits on a circular, light blue dais, and there’s an altar in the center of this dais. 

Anyone with the Summoner Class will be able to detect that this altar contains a resting place of a summon spirit. And if you approach this altar, the summon spirit Celsius will emerge.

If one of your companions has been taken by the blue light in the village, Celsius will refuse to challenge your party, as it senses that your strength is needed elsewhere. She will provide a path of ice to lead you to The Den.

Contact the main for the full summon post.

If you and your companions are defeated by Celsius, she will transport you back to the docks at 1HP each.

The Den

This pathway will lead to the mouth of a large cave. The closer you get to this cave, the colder you begin to feel. It was already cold in the middle of this blizzard, but near this cave, it just gets colder and colder until you don’t think you can handle it. Cold wind cuts right out of this cave, not making it any better. 

If you brave the cold wind, you’ll enter into a large cavern. And this cavern is a sight to behold. The walls are covered in rich ore and jewels, the walls of a mine that has yet to be exploited for all of its riches. Countless sapphires, emeralds, iron, gold, silver, diamonds...as much as the eye can see. And it isn’t just the rich rock that catches your eye. 

The cavern is decorated. The stone beneath your feet is covered in ornate rugs, all matching in beautiful, intricate patterns of blue and white. Several of the more bare walls of the cavern are draped in rich, white curtains lined with silver, beautiful framed pieces of artwork that appear to be worth millions, mirrors lined in ornate silver frames, and countless other expensive things.

The furniture is nothing to pass over either. It appears to be furnished as a home of sorts, and not one piece of furniture is dull. A wooden chest with the most intricately carved design on the top. A table with curved legs and countless, expensive possessions meticulously placed upon it. An antique bookshelf containing all the world’s rarest books and most difficult spell-casting books. A large, king sized bed dressed in the softest white sheets you have ever seen.

And standing in the center of this den is a tall man dressed to the nines in robes of white and blue. He has long, perfectly straight hair, glowing blue eyes, fox ears upon his head, and twelve fox tails.

And in a perfectly calm voice, he demands that you leave. He declares this entire cavern to be filled with his own possessions, and that he won’t tolerate anyone who steals from his collection. Countless humans attempted to steal from his cave years ago, humans who wished to harvest all the gems from the cavern walls. And he took care of them. He made sure that none of them set foot on this island ever again.

And if you refuse to leave, he will have no choice but to attack.

The Kidnapped Voyager

If you were kidnapped by the fox in the mining company building, you will find yourself waking up in the middle of the large bed in the middle of this cavern. You’ll feel safe, like you are home, even if you don’t recognize the cavern at all. And as you begin to take notice of your surroundings, you’ll find that you’ve been dressed in intricate robes of white and blue, though this does not bother you as much as it should. And as you stir from your sleeping position, you’ll see...the human form of that very fox. And strangely, though you do not know him, you feel calm around him.

The moments with the fox are calm...but strange. You find yourself unable to act against his word, and everything he tells you to do, you’ll obey without question. He’ll treat you kindly and give you food, companionship, anything you may require...but it’s almost as though you are a doll to him. A possession with considerable worth, similar to the rest of his collection.

And when your companions enter the cavern, you will recognize them...but for some reason your brain doesn’t connect that recognition to anything. You can see their faces and know that you’ve seen them before, but all your memories are hazy. And when the fox decides to attack your companions, he will order you to fight beside him. And you will have no choice but to fight these familiar strangers.

Upon the fox’s defeat, you will fall out of the thrall of the fox and remember everything again.

The Fox’s Defeat

If the Fox is defeated, the blizzard hanging over the island will vanish. It will still be a snowy area, but the thick blizzard will be gone and it will be safe to navigate without getting lost. In addition, all of the monsters will be gone.

In the cavern, you can collect up to 100,000G worth of items.

The Fox’s Win

If you and your companions are defeated by the Fox, you will be struck down one by one. Just as the Fox attempts to land a killing blow on all of you, his attack will suddenly be caught by something...or someone. Standing before all of you, defending you from the final attack, is the summon spirit Celsius, who tires of this Fox’s mockery of her element. She will buy you enough time to escape, and you will find a path made of pure ice leading you back to the cabin, ensuring you will not get lost in the blizzard.

Unfortunately...anyone still under the Fox’s thrall will still remain in his cave. Either the rest of you rest up in the cabin and try again...or you leave to call for help in defeating this Fox.

[uldren-sov]

AAAA so my lovely rp partner @s0tc commissioned the LOVELY @cytharat with our agents in some not so wintery wonderland conditions and s0tc surprised me with these today and they’re so incredible!!! AAA look at them ;;;

Thank you so much, both of you! Below is my part of our gift exchange.

Out of any assignment they’ve had so far; the jungle, the desert, the interrogation, the poison - this may yet stand to be the worst. It’s been a week and there still hasn’t been any safe weather to go check out their post yet. A blizzard had torn through, nearly crashing their transport shuttle from the space station to the main base here on Hoth upon arrival. And since then, it had not let up for a full week.

Some planets should just be better left unsettled.

Evacios and Evelyn had made due, kept focus on their objective here, and trained … for the first five days. Past that and it was beyond the pail of what they needed to do and what Imperial Intelligence wanted them to do. Besides, it wasn’t like there was any communication out of the base during the blizzard, no one to report on what they could, or couldn’t do.

And what didn’t they do.

But even that became boring, became inconvenient and more hassle than it was worth. But on the seventh day, the comms crackled to life with the broken up voice of a petty officer on the other end. Communication at last which meant …

Evacios was one of the first to see just how the landscape has changed as a result of all the snow, and after being the one to hit the massive cargo bay doors he -- couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised. The snow had piled up, perhaps 20 feet, along the edge of the door. Some of it started to crumble, to fall into the hangar that led out, but sunlight flooded the room, sparkling off the mostly fluffy snow.

“Well, shit,” he heard Evelyn suddenly grouse beside him. They were both ready in their winter gear to set out, to finally get started so they could leave the planet; Evelyn in appropriate white-and-light-blue accented gear, to camouflage in the snow. Evacios? Evacios already had a stealth generator, so he wore his signature black.

“If they ask us to shovel we’re-” he started, cut off from the base commander emerging along with most of the retinue here.

“All right! We’ve confirmed the storm has passed and has continued South-Southwest which means we need to clear a landing area immediately! New oil for the droids and a shovel for every able hand,” she said and there it was, the pointed look towards them, “and may I remind you that while you two might be Intelligence; here? You’re still under my command.” A quick standoff, as Evacios settled a hand on Evelyn’s shoulder, if looks could kill she’d have probably run the commander through in a heartbeat -- much like how he wanted to. Yet he had to play his part, the responsible one, the leader, so while he might have glared he still snapped to attention.

“Yes, sir,” he managed. It satisfied the commander and he felt, rather than heard, Evelyn deflate beside him.

“So you just get to sign us up for volunteer service?” she said, turning her perturbed gaze his way, crossing her arms and scowling. She wasn’t pleased, that much was certain, but he nonetheless settled his grip on her upper arms, massaging them slightly.

“The sooner we help, means the sooner we’ve finished, means the sooner we can get to work,” he explained but smiled just enough for her to narrow her eyes.

“I don’t believe that for a second and remember I know when you’re lying, now,” she warned - interrogation training; both of them were given separate and unique “win” conditions, and while she at least knew he had been feeding her false information she couldn’t get him to give the answers she needed. A win and a loss, perhaps, but he nonetheless let her think she knew his tells.

“True,” a sigh and then a twitch of a grin in truth. “It’s just, you said you’ve never seen snow before and-” oh, but she looked outraged in an instant.

“This is your fault,” she started, as people began to move about them, around them, the soldiers starting to go through procedure to start clearing the wall of snow.

“It is,” he agreed and leaned in just close enough to only not be kissing her, the steam of their breath floated up between them, “and I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” It mollified her immediately, still upset yet nowhere near the anger he saw.

“You better.” And he sealed the promise with a quick kiss.

Most of the snow was cleared by the droids, while it wasn’t impossible to get up so high for the soldiers, and two would-be Ciphers, to start assisting, it was high enough to warrant caution, especially as more of the snow crumbled in large chunks and scattered across the floor. A small avalanche would ruin equipment, so best let the droids do it up to a certain point.

And that certain point apparently was midway and midday, the droids having pushed the snow aside, meant there were now dizzyingly high walls of snow on either side of the hangar entrance. And while they didn’t need to clear much space, there had to be enough for a fighter and a shuttle to land. The snow wall was some ten feet up, high enough to still warrant a ladder and before long, white-clad soldiers skittered up them like ants up an ant hole to begin work digging out the entrance the old-fashioned way.

“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” Evelyn said from below him on the ladder. He stopped at the top to offer her his hand - which she took.

“It’s your first time seeing snow. How could I possibly pass up the opportunity for you to experience it hands-on?” He smiled and she shook her head. And while he spun his shovel, the loathsome task he signed himself up for as well was one more thing he had to tolerate with this training, he did at least catch Evelyn look out with wonder.

Indeed, spread out before them was a verifiable sea of white, a desert where instead of sand, was ice. It rolled and crested with where the wind found and built dunes upon. The mountainous peaks dotting the horizon were frosted along the peppery black stone and silvery ice as the wind dipped down to woosh gently through the man-made tunnel they were all now creating. The kicked up snow caught the errant flakes, pinwheeling them through the icy-cold air, sparkling in the sunlight of a clear day.

It was hard for Evacios to not share, at least a bit, in the wonder he saw in Evelyn’s expression. Still, he stalked over and pulled the yellow-tinted goggles down over her eyes - snapping her out of her reverie.

“Let’s get to work.”

And what work it was. For hours they toiled, heave-hoing snow off to the side for the droids to push away. The whole platoon, even the commander, took up a shovel to start clearing the area and then create a ramp up to the rest of the world on the far side of the landing. It didn’t have to be completely clear, the whole base was no doubt situated on centuries old ice and snow, and should they dig, they’ll no doubt just find the ice shelf. No, they just had to clear it to an even level of the base. It took the full day, the sun now starting to fall into the horizon - perhaps giving them an hour, maybe two, before it would sink past the mountain ranges and once again make the temperatures unbearable and inhabitable. Evacios tossed his, then Evelyn’s shovel to a passing droid and sighed heavily. His arms, shoulders, and back burned from use - yet even that was not enough to say he was truly warm. Hoth may not have been the worst place for an Imperial to be stationed, that award belonged to Korriban beyond a shadow of a doubt, but damned if this place wasn’t at least top three.

“This might be my first time seeing snow,” huffed Evelyn, as tired soldiers trudged past them, back inside, “but you know what? If I never see any snow ever again, I’m good.” She worked her shoulders out, and then her neck.

“No love for it anymore?” he crossed his arms as she emphatically shook her head.

“I’ve dug trenches in the jungle during the rainy season,” she started and shook her head, “and honestly, I think I like that better.” She huffed. “I can’t wait to get off this planet.”

It wasn’t that much of an issue … yet Evacios knew that so long as she held this animosity, it was only likely to grow. He couldn’t have her frustrated or angry when they haven’t even started their mission. They had bunks here, they had heating here, they had food, and blankets, and warm ‘freshers, and all the amenities of an altogether comfortable - despite the environment - outpost. Evacios himself, as spec ops, have seen and lived through far worse and knowing that their mission took them far outside any kind of military outpost? This was as good as they were going to get, and he couldn’t have her start out like this when morale would probably be the only thing that got them through this test.

He wandered away from her innocently enough.

“Surely you can’t miss the rain, the humidity, the bugs,” he started, just trying to get her going - keep her talking and if not distracted, then at least focused on something else.

“The rain you can keep out, the outposts had dehumidifiers, and there’s bug spray for a reason,” she checked them all off. “I even prefer the vine cats, at least that gave us something to keep an eye out for.”

“You want there to be some kind of deadly creature out here? Lurking just behind any errant snow drift to kill us?” he asked jokingly as he turned his back to her and squatted down.

“Just something to break up all the monoto-” ironically that was when the snowball had hit her chest. She was stunned as she looked down to see the smear of snow clinging to her suit and slowly looked to him, the snow clearly on his hands, twisted on one knee to get the bead on her and throw it.

“I’m sorry, what was that again?” He grinned, giving her his best mischievous look before she snapped back to it and started sprinting at him. He scooped up another handful before running, himself, away from the base, off to the side - where the massive wall of snow would hide them from curious onlookers.

He snapped to a turn and threw the snowball back towards her, it was sudden but she was quick enough to duck and curl, the snowball glanced off her shoulder but she gave a surprised yell at the impact. A new sensation, one she was unaccustomed to, of course her body would react that way but the smile was unmistakable in a second. It even grew, unbidden, from him as she quickly reached down to arm herself as well. He took off and lept over a haphazard pile of snow he thought he could use as cover.

Instead, his feet met with unpacked snow and he sank a solid two feet behind the pile with a surprised gasp. His legs caught very nearly painfully, yet all that happened was give Evelyn time enough to make her very first snowball and launch it at his head. He brought his arm up in time to brace his face but he felt it skid across his hair. He scurried to get out of the hole but by that time she made another and caught him in the back with it.

“This is called payback!” she shouted without any hint of malice as another one caught him in the side before he could finally pull himself out. And when that one hit he even heard a peel of laughter coming from her.

All right then. He may have gotten out of his hole but he kept low and pushed the loose snow up into a small hill - some cover as he kept prone and worked some snow loose around him so he could get even lower.

“You know, I think you’re a better shot with these than you are with a blaster!” he called, and when he looked to gauge her reaction he had to duck at once to avoid a streak of snow - a poorly compacted snowball.

“Real funny, at least i'm not using tactics to win a snowball f-” and from his cover he launched one, two, three more snowballs which caught her in her hip, her side, and her chest. Her eyes widened, her expression a mix of outrage and perhaps exhilaration as she quickly ran behind some cover herself and they began the assault in truth. It wasn’t long before every throw, every connection, was met with shrieks of laughter and tapered chuckles. It was a complicated game of cat-and-mouse with snowballs as the former soldiers and Ciphers in training ducked and moved between covers, between volleys, and admittedly stumbling and tripping over the soft powdery snow where it wasn’t packed down correctly.

It all came to a head when Evacios peeked out over a small hill and saw that Evelyn was not but a few feet in front of him, sprinting as hard as she could and seemed to have no intention of stopping. He could step out of the way, he could slip out of the grasp - perhaps - but he let it happen. She crashed into him, nearly folding him in half as they both collapsed into the soft snow in a plume of flakes.

“I win,” she said between crests of breathless laughter. Poised above him she kept him down with hands firmly on his chest, not that he was making any effort to change that.

“This time,” he conceded, surprised, at least, to find himself smiling. He would have been content at that, but then he remembered - had to always remember and keep up his ploy. He covered her hands with his, his black gloves covering her white ones in their entirety. He met her energized grin with a sly smile of his own, one he knew spoke of promises only he could keep. “Take what you want as a prize.”  An obvious invitation but one she nonetheless took.

She kissed him immediately, hotly, full of an aggression and possession she no doubt used with plenty of men before him - men that easily and eagerly wilted from. He, on the other hand, slowly wound his arms around her body, covering over the white of her jacket, and his gloved hands disappearing into her black tresses. He gripped her behind her head and held her back just enough to reply, slower, deeper, languid enough to where she sighed gently through her nose and was compliant in a matter of seconds. He angled her head as he drew her in closer, brushing his fingers down to the base of her skull, keeping her to him, as he kissed her methodically, slanting his lips against hers until he pulled her back and she gasped softly for breath.

“Come on, it’s going to get dark soon and I’m not entirely convinced the commander won’t lock us out on principal,” he whispered with a smirk. She huffed in response, another shake of her head.

“The faster we’re away from her the better, definitely,” she agreed as she unwound herself from his embrace and offered him a hand. He didn’t take it and stood on his own, to which she just shrugged, “by the way. I’m not done with you yet.” She made her own promise in her own way and he had to smirk, raising his split eyebrow in amusement.

“No, I didn’t think you were,” he commented airily, as he started brushing himself off. “But, hm, humor me for a second.” He fished through his pocket as she crossed her arms and watched him curiously. He found his holo, hit a button, and tossed it gently. It landed just a couple of feet from them and began hovering.

“Really? A picture?” she questioned dryly.

“To commemorate your first foray into the elements,” he said glibly as he stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “As I said, humor me.” He smiled and gave a quick kiss to her cheek. She rolled her eyes but she was having a hard time fighting off the smile on her face.

“Fine. One picture,” she relented but snatched the holo from its position to hold it up higher.

1 … 2 … 3 … He smiled and held her close and as soon as it was taken she quickly reviewed it. He watched her from behind, the earnesty of her excitement was touching but the sun was now low, the day was ending, and work would begin again soon. He pressed his cheek against the crown of her head and she leaned back into his embrace, yes - Intelligence work would begin again soon, his work, though, was never done.

[grobleen]

another design-in-10-minutes plushie request from @aeraya

a big fluffy boy who gives small neopets rides up Terror Mountain, especially during big blizzards/areas with deep deep snow. he’s built to climb and trudge through snow. maybe young boris are told tales about the big fluffy bori.

he can walk on the deepest snow, tunnel to the heart of a mountain, other neopets can snuggle into his fluff to survive the coldest winters...

[asterisquebloomed]

!!

You find yourself lost amidst a blizzard, stranded in the snow. In your travels you had heard rumors that spurred you on this course. Legends tell of a crystalline palace in the snowy peaks of Astial. A place where a goddess resides. Intrigued by the tales, you made your way to the northern continent, in hopes of finding this arctic palace.

The bitter cold was starting to nip at you. You had come prepared for arctic weather, but an unexpected blizzard had enveloped the mountains. Tired from the climb and cold from the howling northern winds, Dread began to set in. Fear that this storm would make these mountains your icy grave. You had yet to finish what you had set out to accomplish. You still hadn’t uncovered the truth of what had happened to you.

Since you began this journey, you have learned things known to no man, that we humans, were not alone. There was another sentient life-form that inhabited this planet. A strange and mysterious being that has existed alongside mankind, hidden in the shadows. You had learned that magic, a thing of fairy tales and myths, was in fact real. It existed, right here in the physical world. If you had been told this by another, and not witnessed it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t have believed it yourself.

But here you were, chasing ghosts in an arctic wasteland. Risking your life on matters one would disregard as mere children’s stories. It was absurd, surreal even. You never would have imagined a life like this. You never wanted a life like things. But even so you pressed onward.

With the last reservoirs of your strength depleting fast, you needed to seek out shelter from the storm. Waiting out the worst of the blizzard in a cave would be much preferable to dying out in the cold, you thought.

After a few more minutes of trudging through the knee high snowfields, your hopes had been answered.

As if by chance, ahead of you was a divide in the cliff side. Upon further inspection, it seemed to be a cave tunneling deep into the mountain. Whispering a soft expression of gratitude, you hurried inside, eager to escape the frigid temperatures of the Land of Eternal Winter.

Retrieving a torch from your pack, you lit it, illuminating the obscuring darkness that filled the cave, Slowly you began to make your way further into the mountain.

As you walked through the cavern, you began to notice it was getting warmer the further you went. While it was normal for hidden caves like this to be a different temperature than the region outside it’s mouth, something was a little strange about it. It was too warm for a supposed extinct volcano. As you considered the possibilities, each on worse than the last, you noticed a faint glow further up ahead. Had you crossed straight through the mountain, you wondered. Biting your lip nervously, you edged closer to the pale blue light.

What you were met with was not something you expected.

A cavern of white crystals greeted you.They glowed faintly with a pale blue light. It wasn’t the blinding white of the blizzard outside, but it rendered the use of your torch wasteful. Snuffing out the flame, your surroundings were tinted with an icy blue light.

As you wandered farther in, you came upon exactly what you had come her to find. Before you was a place, entirely made of ice—or rather, crystal—you found as you placed your hand on one of the smooth surfaces of the walls. They weren’t cold to the touch—actually they were the opposite—they gave off a gentle warmth, contrasting the cold blue and while light that illuminated the palace as if it were day. Intricate details were etched and carved into the walls and floors of the palace, even the ceiling above was ornate, much like one would expect from the homes of nobility and royalty. The sight was magnificent, otherworldly even. Once again, if you hadn’t witnessed the immaculate beauty hidden away in these mountains, you would have been hard pressed to believe such a place existed here.

Making your way through the vast halls and corridors of this ethereal palace, you eventually came to an altar of sorts. A large room with a massive crystalline monolith at it’s center. Surrounding the base of the crystal was a pool of clear liquid. Water perhaps, you thought as you approached the altar to get a closer look.

Suddenly the atmosphere of the room became tense, as if you were not alone here. Turning to look though, you saw no one. Glancing back the way you came, you peered into the eerily glowing caverns to see if anyone had come in after you. Finding no one there either, you let out a sigh. Your nerves must be getting to you, you thought. Relaxing yourself with deep breath, you turned your gaze back towards the altar.

Your heart skipped a beat. There, standing in front of the altar was a woman. Where had she come from? There was no place in the room where she could have hidden herself. Even more unsettling was that you hadn’t heard anything. Not a single sound had echoed through the palace walls, save for your sighs and breathing. You could feel your heart pound in your chest as you stared at her, and she at you.

Her features were delicate, like that of a porcelain doll. Her snow white hair was wavy, reaching to her shoulders. Her eyes, which stared into you without ever wavering, were a soft lavender. She wore a light dress with diamond and snowflake like detailing on the petals of her skirt. White stocking adorned her legs, the left of which had an intricate swirling pattern running up her leg. Her figure was petite, but her presence was overwhelming. It was no wonder Astiel’s myths described her as a goddess. You stood in awe of her beauty, as if time itself had ceased to move. Everything was silent.

She blinked, and as if by her command, time begin to flow. Without shifting her icy gaze from you, she began to walk towards you. As she stepped closer you noticed something strange. There were no footsteps. Turning your attention to her stride, you watched as one foot came forward, then the next. Indeed, she had no footsteps, as if she was merely a ghost. Once she was within five feet of you, she stopped. For a moment she silently gazed at you, eyes moving for the first time to take you in. When she had finished looking you over, her cold stare returned to your face.

“Who are you?” She asked, her voice was soft. Her words might have been soothing had her tone not been so monotonous.

You were speechless for a moment, unable to reply to her swiftly. Inhaling deeply, you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat.

You explained to her you journey up until this point. You told her of the others you had met, These mystical beings, they were like souls without bodies,they were like the pure essence of a person. Essence. Such a fitting word for these creatures. A pure soul in it’s entirety. That’s what they were. The Essence.

“So you have come here seeking out my kin…” She said, her face still devoid of emotion. Her eyes wander over to the burns hidden underneath your clothes, as if she could see through them. “Those wounds…” She paused, taking a good look at the flesh you could not hide from her eyes. “They were caused by one of us…by her…”

Once more your heart skipped a beat. Of all the ‘Essence’ that you had met thus far, none had any inkling as to the identity of the one who had burned you. This was the first lead that you had found, the first clue,, the first trace of them. Eagerly you pleaded with the girl to tell you more. Who are they? Where can I find them? Your sudden fervor had garnered a response from her as she leaned back a bit in faint surprise.

“Her name I do not know, and I know not where she rests…However she is a very foul girl. I would not be surprised if she had done this to you not out of necessity, but out of vanity.” She exhaled softly as she recalled the woman in question. Her brow furrowed slightly, lips creasing into a frown. Her memories of her had not been fond.

“She is not to be trifled with. Pursuing her is to gamble your life. Despite this, will you still search for her?” She asked, to which you nodded. She closed her eyes slowly. “…I see.”

“Long ago, she stumbled into this place. She too, like you, was a traveler. She was running from something, and sought refuge in my home. She didn’t much like the cold…so I have reason to believe she hailed from the south. Perhaps you should begin your search there…”

With a new light of hope now lit within your heart, you thanked her. “I would go with you, to aid you on your quest, but alas…” She said solemnly, gaze cast downward. “The damage to your soul is too great…”

Your heart sank. Your soul had been…damaged…? A sense of dread filled your being. Not only had this creature which you sought out violated your flesh with her flames, but even your soul itself, your essence, had been tarnished by this woman. It was unforgivable…absolutely unforgivable! You clenched your fists in anger. Seeing your rage, the woman let out a sorrowful sigh.

“You see, we….’Essence’ as you call us, we bond with the souls of humans.in order to leave this place. We are trapped here, endlessly. Without a human vessel, we cannot be free…but that doesn’t justify her methods…” Ire rising in the Essence. “She does not care who she hurts. She destroys human souls for her own gain. Malicious behavior like that…I cannot forgive.” Her voice was stern, breaking from her usual monotone. She hated this woman just as much as you did.

After a moment of silence, she let out a sigh. “I may find her reprehensible, but I refuse to sink to her level. I will not disregard human life solely on the basis of not being one of you. I treasure human life, likely more than any of my kin.” She said, turning her gaze back to you. “I am sorry, but you must make this journey alone. Know that I sincerely hope you will find the truth you seek. And I shall pray for your safety and success in your endeavors.”

After ensuring that the blizzard had passed, You prepared to leave this ‘Arctic Palace’ of hers. You thanked her graciously for her tremendous help. She wished you well and said that she will pray for you in the coming months. As you were about to embark once more on your journey, you realized you had forgot to ask her her name.

“My name?” She said with a slight tilt, before giving an—albeit small—smile.

“I kept my original name, from when I first lived. That name is Aliah Meshia. It was an honor to meet you, child.” Spoken with the wisdom of ten thousand years, this woman. Aliah Meshia, the Essence of Light and Order, bid you a fond farewell, as you departed from her crystalline altar.

With renewed vigor and a clear goal finally within your sights, you made your way out of the cave, stepping proudly out into the sunlight with purpose in each step.

[recentanimenews]

Everything You Got Wrong About Pokémon Red/Blue/Yellow

In September of 1998, Pokémon Red and Blue were unleashed in North America. I remember the day very well, because, for weeks, there had been a little six inch sticker on the glass of the video games shelf at my local Super K-Mart that said "Pokémon is coming!", with pictures of Blastoise and Pikachu under it and the date of the game's release. This tiny piece of art left me entranced. Who was this gun turtle? Who was this fellow with the ears? I must get to know them. Commercials and Nintendo Power articles only heightended my anticipation, and when the game finally came out and I got my copy of the Red Version (along with a purple Game Boy Color,) I plopped down onto my living room floor and experienced video game perfection.

  That was over twenty years ago, and the Pokémon series has changed a lot since then. However, my affinity for the first "generation" of the franchise (Red/Blue/Yellow) still stays strong, even if there are better games in the series. That said, twenty years gives people a lot of time to come up with strong opinions about these games that I don't really agree with. I'm not saying that you're not enjoying the games properly if you feel this way about them. I'm just saying that you're wrong, possibly about everything. 

  And that's why I've come to Crunchyoll to look over some of these beliefs and challenge them. It's time to argue about Pokémon, y'all, in the first edition of EVERYTHING YOU GOT WRONG ABOUT POKEMON. Here, I'll focus on Red/Blue/Yellow, and I don't think there's a better starting point than....

  RED/BLUE/YELLOW ARE WAY LESS LINEAR THAN THE NEWER GAMES

  I see this a lot, and it often feels less like we're praising the old games, and more like we're just mad at the new games always hustling us from Point A to Point B. Red/Blue/Yellow do have some non-linear aspects to them. For example, you can choose to challenge Koga in Fuschia City before you fight Sabrina in Saffron if you want to. Or, if you want to go to Cinnabar Island but feel like skipping the Seafoam Islands, you can just surf down there from Pallet Town and ignore those damp, dark, puzzle caves entirely. 

  But I think, a lot of times, we get linearity confused with the obscene amount of backtracking that's involved in these games. Yeah, you get to move between towns in a lot of different ways, but you're usually heading back through the same towns you've already visited. Heck, the first mission in the game is heading to Viridian City to pick up an item and then walking it back to start. When you first go to Cerulean City, you're tasked with heading up to Bill's house, walking back down through Cerulean to Vermillion, then going through Diglett's Cave to Route 2 (where you've already been.) Then you go back through that same portion of Diglett's Cave to Vermillion, and then up through Cerulean again, in order to finally get to Rock Tunnel. And you do most of this, not by travelling through vibrant areas, but by trudging through "Underground Paths," because you're not allowed to actually enter Saffron City yet.

  I don't expect a lush open world experience on a Game Boy, something that was only slightly more technologically advanced than a Pop Tart, but I also don't believe that "You get to choose sometimes just HOW you want to backtrack" makes for an especially non-linear experience. 

    THE REGION IN POKEMON RED/BLUE/YELLOW IS SUPER DULL

  Johto feels very rustic, and is beautifully bathed in its own tradition. Hoenn is filled with water and tropical areas. Sinnoh is mountainous and cold. Unova is full of metropolitan spots. Kalos is charming and often quaint. Alola is a big beach paradise. And Kanto has....ummm....paths.

  Okay, I kind of see where this one is coming from. Kanto doesn't have as strong of a theme as the other regions, and that's because the Pokémon games were still in their infancy. They were still trying to nail down exactly what worked and what didn't.  But as someone that hails from North Carolina, I kind of appreciate what Kanto is more and more as I get older. Because Kanto has a lot of stuff to offer.

  See, as all second grade public school classes in the state of NC will tell you, North Carolina is made up of three regions: the Mountains, the Piedmont, and the Coastal Plain. It's got everything. But it's not known for being a beach state or flat state, especially with South Carolina, Georgia and Florida being right below it. And while it has the gorgeous Appalachian Mountains running across its butt (I swear that this article isn't just a tourist brochure for North Carolina), people sometimes tend to associate states like Virginia and West Virginia more with that range.  

  In short, North Carolina is the Kanto region. There's a lot of beauty to find in it, even if you can't describe it very simply.

  RED/BLUE/YELLOW ARE WAY MORE DIFFICULT THAN NEWER GAMES

  Again, this often feels more like a diss on the newer games than an accurate appraisal of the old ones. And while I'll wait for my specific articles about those newer games to discuss the complaint that modern Pokémon games are for infants, I'd like to address the idea that Red/Blue/Yellow are the peak of Pokémon difficulty levels. Because, eh, not really.

  It's not that hard to plow through the games with one or two Pokémon if you're willing to grind for a bit. In my first playthrough, I got a Charizard and a Dragonite, leveled them up copiously, and basically destroyed the world. Type differences do matter, but there's less importance placed on having a well-balanced team and more on "My Pokémon's levels are ten times higher than yours, so pray to your god for a swift demise." 

  This is especially prevalent when you consider how few moves certain types have. There is one Dragon-type move and it does 40 damage no matter who you're firing it at. There are three Ghost-type moves, and they do nothing against Psychic-type Pokémon (EVEN THOUGH THE ANIME PROMISED ME THAT GHOST MOVES WERE PSYCHIC-TYPE KRYPTONITE.) And the move Gust isn't a Flying-type move. The move that the second Pokémon that you probably ever catch (Pidgey) knows isn't even the type that it's logically supposed to be. So good luck against all the Bugs that you'll face in an hour. 

  So what do you do if you can't really count on the type differences that have become standard in later games? You saddle your 'mons with Blizzards and Fire Blasts and Thunders and Earthquakes and other absurdly powerful moves and you just kind of steamroll your way through the game. There can be some oddly challenging moments (If you pick Charmander, it will get crushed by Brock and Misty), but other than that, higher levels usually break down any problems you may have with type disadvantages. Kanto is a great region if you don't want to put too much thought into crushing all who oppose you. 

  Do you agree with this in the slightest? Do you disagree with this in the mostest? Let me know in the comments. I'll probably be there to chat with you regardless of your feelings on my super-never-wrong Pokémon opinions. 

  -----------------------------

  Daniel Dockery is a writer and editor for Crunchyroll. He has a Twitter.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[royalmultiverse]

Story Time

Courtesy of Ultra1437

Tumblr dashboard seems to hate quotation marks. Hit the keep reading link to fix that. “Could you tell me a story again, please?”  Twilight’s eyes shone brightly, eagerly.  Her tail swished at the thought of hearing her favorite story again.

“Again?”  An elderly mare sighed, settling down against a tree with a small grunt.  Twilight asked her often, still listening as intently as if it was the first time.

“Please?”  Her ears pinned back and she looked away sheepishly.

“Oh, alright.  Just one more, but that’s it for today, okay?”  The grey mare lifted her pack off her back and set it next to the tree.  “At this rate, you’re going to be the youngest loremaster ever.”

Twilight squealed adorably, hopping to her hooves.  She wrapped the elderly grey mare in a hug, still managing to careful about not hurting her.

The mare wrapped a hoof around her neck and hugged the smaller mare as tight as she dared.  “Alright, alright, young Twilight.  Settle in.”  Releasing each other, Twilight settled down next to her, setting her pack off next to the other.

“Now, have you heard the tale of the Forest Goddesses?”

Twilight’s eyes brightened and her smile rivalled the sun they took shade from.  “I love that one!”

“Alright.”  She cleared her throat.

*“Far across the horizon, farther than you could see from on top of a mountain there lies a forest larger than you can imagine, where the two the two deities whom give us our day and night…”*

Twilight lost herself to the story, her brilliant mind conjuring images as the mare told her tale.

*”Now, the world had seen little sunlight in what felt like years.  Crops were withering, sunlight was scarce and everypony feared the end was nigh…  When two of our kind, the biggest and strongest, sought out a way to end the plague upon the world once and for all.”*

***

Two massive mares wandered through dark woods ducking low under branches and almost trampling bushes underhoof.  They couldn’t look more different.  One white as the moon overhead with a colorful pink in her mane and tail and a horn on her forehead, the other almost invisible in the darkness, only given away by the gleam in her eyes and the sparkles in her mane and tail as she hovered and flitted among the tree branches.

“Solestius, are you sure this is the way?”  The darker mare asked, darting around a tree ahead of her.

“Aye, Selenus.  Tis not much further.  I can sense it.”  Solestius replied as one of her hooves batted away a branch.

They trudged through the woods, Solestius eagerly leading her companion on.  Rivers posed no issues to their long legs, letting them wade through waters that others would have to swim or find a shallower path to cross.  Critters fared no better in their path, Solestius’ powerful magic letting her simply grab predators and toss them into the distance.  As the hours passed, the moon barely moved in the sky, and fewer and fewer creatures attempted to interfere.

“Just ahead, Selenus.  It’s close now.”

“So you said hours ago.”

The forest gave way to a clearing, Solestius striding right toward its center.  “We’re here.”

Selenus followed meekly, her instincts telling her that being out in the exposed in the clearing was a bad thing.

As Solestius neared the center, her horn lit and her eyes drifted shut.

Selenus watched her intently as she followed.  

The white mare’s horn glowed a brighter and brighter gold, almost blindingly bright, and Selenus’ frowned at the lightshow.  “Solestius?  Is something wrong?”

Solestius shook her head, a small smile on her lips.  “Nay.  Tis deep in the earth.  We are here, now I have to go down.”

“How?”  Selenus tilted her head.

Solestius didn’t reply, instead directing her horn toward the ground.  The moment her horn touched the grass, the entire clearing lit up like the rarely-seen sun.

Selenus reared up, her wide eyes slamming shut at the light.  “What is this madness, Solestius?”

After a moment, the light faded to a soft glow at the edges.

Solestius replied softly.  “Tis… the sun.”  She opened her eyes, and Selenus no longer saw Solestius’ pupils, the white mare’s eyes as white as her coat.

The clearing seemed to shake, but Solestius was unaffected.  Selenus took wing and hovered next to her companion.  “Solestius?”

The ground at the edges of the clearing gave way, dropping further into the earth, leaving broken and exposed tree roots and a hole at the edge that gave way into blackness.

The falling earth rapidly consumed the clearing, Selenus fearing for her companion.  “Solestius?  What have you done?”  She swooped down and tried to pick up her wingless companion.

Solestius shrugged her off.  “Fear not, I shall return momentarily.  The sun is calling.”

The ground gave way under Solestius, and she fell without a care in the world.

“Solestius!”  Selenus darted down after her, but couldn’t seem to catch up, no matter how fast she beat her wings.

Selenus could barely see the white fur and flashes of pink ahead of her.  They both fell for what seemed hours, until Solestius seemed to slow down, coming back into Selenus’ view.

Their fall slowed until Solestius’ hooves gently touched the ground.  The glow in her eyes faded, but her horn was still lit.  Directly ahead of the pair was a tunnel.  Selenus scanned the area and found no other exits except up.

“Come, Selenus.  It’s just ahead.”

Selenus followed slowly, fearfully.  The tunnel was tall enough for both mares to walk without bowing their heads, a welcomed oddity for their stature.

“Solestius?  I am not sure about this.  How do we know–”

The tunnel gave way to a massive underground chamber.  A chamber that could easily have been a hollowed-out mountain.

Solestius strode forward as Selenus stopped and stared.  The hornlight glowed and glittered off the walls, shining in all the colors of the rainbow.  Dozens upon dozens of pairs of pillars stood next to Solestius’ path, each made of a different material and color.  There were colors and materials that didn’t make sense, like the first two pairs, a clear pink stone, followed by a shiny black wood.

They gave way to a dais in the center, rising up like a miniature mountain itself.  Realizing Solestius hadn’t stopped, she took wing and dashed to catch up, alighting next to her companion.

“Where are we, Solestius?”  She looked to the white pony, meeting Solestius’ eyes.

Solestius shook her head slightly.  “I do not know it’s name, but this place feels right.  It feels familiar.  It feels right to be here.”

“I do not think so, Solestius.  It scares me.”

Solestius shuffled closer, brushing her side against Selenus.  “Be brave, Selenus.  Our destination is the end of this path.”

What felt like hours later, both ponies ascended to the dais.  Two altars met their vision.  One clearly of a shining sun, the other of a crescent moon.

Solestius seemed to come to life even more.  Her steps lightened, her hair bounced lighter, and her voice seemed more lively.  “This is it, Selenus.  I can feel it!”

“Solestius?”

Solestius moved over to the Altar of the Sun, stepping up onto it eagerly.

“Selenus, step onto the other one!  Quickly!”

“I… this cannot be safe.”  Selenus’ wings extended, readying to take flight.

Solestius stepped down and nuzzled her companion.  Drawing back, her eyes softened, looking the dark mare in her eyes.  “It is.  I swear it.  I would not have brought us all this way for something bad to happen now.”

She looked between Solestius and the moon altar for a few seconds.  

“Please?”

She met Solestius’ eyes once more, and something clicked.  She felt the other altar call to her like Solestius said she had felt something calling her here.  “Okay.”

Both ponies stepped onto the altars at the same moment.  A feeling washed over Selenus’ wings and they spread wide like she was soaring across the thermals like she used to.

Solestius’ horn glowed brighter, and the symbols of the sun and moon glowed to match.

Selenus looked down the stairs and saw every pillar they passed glowing the same golden color Solestius’ horn did.

The entire chamber seemed to gather energy, the pillars glowing brighter until Selenus could no longer see them individually as bright as they glowed.

Several seconds passed and the brightness passed critical mass, forcing Selenus to shut her eyes.

“Selenus, it’s beginning!” she heard Solestius call out before laughing happily.  “I can see it.  I can see the sun!”

The light behind her eyelids suddenly went out before she felt a rush of magic force its way into her body.  Selenus screamed, the magic holding her still as it filled her, like her limbs were frozen-solid in ice.  While she was scared, the magic made her feel powerful.  More powerful than she ever thought.  Consciousness left her as the power tapered off.

***

Selenus dreamed.  She dreamed of one thing, the moon far, far overhead.  Though it was so far away, she felt like she could reach out and touch it.  So she did, and the little ball moved with her hoof.

Elated, she played with the moon, batting at it with her hooves like a cat with a ball of yarn as behind her, dawn came.

***

Solestius felt as if plunged into the sun itself.  It was hot.  Swelteringly, blisteringly hot.  But, she felt no pain.  All she could see was the sun.  The massive ball of light dwarfed her, but something called to her horn.  It lit again, and she cast her magic out to the sun.  It connected and the temperature increased.  She could almost feel the sun’s weight on her horn, but she was determined.  She told it to move, to come out from its hiding place.  Inch by inch, the massive orb strained into motion, rising up and away from Solestius.

Tears in her eyes, Solestius watched as the sun moved across their world.  She reared up and *followed* it into the sky.

***

Consciousness returned to both ponies, shocking them.  The chamber was dark.  Solestius was sitting, panting like she’d been galloping for hours on end.

Selena was wide-eyed and shivered like she’d been just pulled out of a massive blizzard.  Light returned to their vision, and both ponies settled down.  Her breath returning, Solestius froze when something brushed against her flank.  She whipped around, looking for whatever touched her.  Her horn lit in response, but nothing was there.  She felt it again, feeling a rush of wind across her back.  She whipped around again, keeping an eye out for any flying attackers.

“Selenus?”

“What is it Sole–”  Selenus’ words cut off and she fell silent.  Attack forgotten, she turned to look at Selenus, whom was wide-eyed and staring at her.

“What?”

“Y-You.  You have *wings*.”  Selenus pointed at her.

“What?  Don’t be silly.  I don’t–”  She looked over her back and sure enough, a pair of white wings stood up, ready for a downbeat to launch their owner skyward.  “How… how did I get wings?”  A hoof shot up to her forehead, and she still had her horn.  “I still have my horn.”  She turned back to Selenus.  “Ho- How do you have a horn?!”

“What?”  Selenus gasped.  A dark hoof shot straight to her forehead and sure enough, a horn met her hoof.  She looked over to her back and spied her wings still in place.

“How…”

“The spell!” Solestius exclaimed, hopping in place.  “It had to be that spell that was cast.”  Selenus looked scared and confused.

“I felt a spell in this chamber as we were walking, so I poured my magic into it.”

“Why?”

“It… felt like the sun told me to.”

“Tis a stupid notion.  I now have a horn and no idea how to use it.  Tis not like if I just want to light it up at night that I just need thin–”  Her horn lit up, a brilliant cyan hue casting about her face and across the moon altar.

Solestius’ smile rivalled the sun behind her.  “You are a natural, Selenus.  Though, I do believe I will wait on trying to fly.”

Selenus stood and made her way over to Solestius, running her muzzle along Solestius’ nearest wing.  It felt strong, it felt almost like her own.  “Well, they’re real.  I can feel the muscles are in good shape.  You should have no problem flying.”

Solestius took off down the dais steps.  “Then let’s go!  I can’t wait to try them out!”

Selenus sped to the top of the stairs, lifting a hoof.  “Solestius, wait!”

“What?”

Selenus wings gestured to the chamber.  “How are we going to get out of here?”

“The same way we came in!  Follow me!”

The trek back seemed to take minutes instead of hours, and they found themselves back at the chamber they dropped into.  As soon as both ponies stepped into the center, the chamber rustled.  “Stay still, Selenus.”

“Solestius?”

The ground around them and under their hooves started to slowly stream up the hole.  Seconds later, both ponies felt their legs leave the ground and rise up.  Selenus looked down and saw tons and tons of earth following in their wake.  Mere minutes later, the sky shone overhead, a bright, brilliant blue.

The sound of earth rushing below drowned out all possibility of conversation.  Their ascent slowed like dropping in before and the dirt rushed up to grab their weight.  When all was settled, the only sign that something happened was the brown dirt at their hooves instead of grass.

The sun blazed overhead as Solestius spread her wings.  “Selenus?”

“Yes, Solestius?”

“Teach me to fly.  I shall teach you magic.”

“Alright.”

***

Twilight tuned back in to the end of the story.  *“And that’s how the sun came back to our lands.  To this day, those two goddesses still wander the forest, helping those in need and the sun and moon in proper harmony”*

The elderly mare sighed, rubbing her throat.  She felt a hoof draw her into a soft hug, before she was nuzzled.  Twilight spoke just above a whisper, “Thank you.”

“Tis no problem, young Twilight.  We have to pass our knowledge on to the younglings eventually.  Why not now with you?”  She nuzzled Twilight’s cheek and hugged her harder.  “You have great things ahead of you, young one.  Life is not all fighting and running.  Take some time to take in the sights, hear stories, and play.”

“Yes’m.  I promise.”  Twilight held a hoof to her chest.

[southofnowhere73]

Hurley’s

Anyone who has a pet will tell you how much they love them. I’m absolutely no exception. Sam and I got our dog two years ago when he was five after a friend had a baby, and it was the greatest thing to ever happen to us. He’s an American Pit Bull Terrier (and possibly something else I’m not entirely sure) with a big personality. Internet, meet Hurley!

We used to dog-sit him for years before he became ours, and I used to secretly wish he would end up mine somehow. There’s nothing quite like kisses to the face or a head in your lap to make the hardest days better. Being new dog owners, its been a challenge to find fun activities to do with him besides going for neighborhood walks, but we’ve managed to find a few things we love to do with him.

When we’re looking for a change of scenery, Sam and I love taking Hurley to our local dog-friendly park. There are multiple trails we can choose, and he loves getting to see new people. He’s always tongue out, tail wagging. There’s a really tall fire tower that I’ve always wanted to try going up, so that will be a fun adventure to try with him. Hopefully he isn’t afraid of heights! Another great thing about walking the trails are the beautiful woods. There’s something calming about walking under a canopy of trees while fallen leaves crunch beneath your feet and paws, even when you’re climbing huge hills.

Another fun activity we do is take him out to stores. I know, it seems really weird. But people love seeing dogs in stores. Employees love it, customers seem to love it. I know when I see a dog at work, my day gets instantly better. We’ll usually go to Lowe’s or any pet store, but I’ve heard that Target allows pups too. Just check with your local stores before planning an outing with your four-legged friends! You can also go to almost any pet store as well. They’ll usually have treats available for your good boy or girl, and what better way to get something you know your pet will love than by having them with you? Now anytime we get near the pet store plaza with Hurley in the back, his tail starts going crazy.

For those days you don’t feel like going out for an adventure, having some type of runner or tie-down is perfect for a fun staycation. If you’re fortunate enough to have a fenced in yard, that’s even better. When it’s hot and you’re looking to beat the heat, hooking up a sprinkler to your hose is an awesome way to play. Hurley isn’t the biggest fan of getting wet, so I wasn’t sure how he would like this one. He was very hesitant at first, but by the end of it he was having a blast chasing the water and biting at it. I tried jumping through it a few times, but Hurley hasn’t reached that level of trust with water yet. Maybe next summer 🤷🏻‍♀️.

We also got him these duck launcher toys off of Amazon for pretty cheap. Hurley’s a destroyer, so I never expect anything to last longer than an hour, and if it does I consider it amazing. These ducks have been amazing. We’ve bought four of them so far, but having a bunch to switch off between has made it so he never has one in his mouth for too long. By having him constantly chasing between them, it keeps his heart rate up and his instincts sharp.

Living in New England, we’ve had to find a way to keep him occupied in the winter time as well. Walking on the road in the middle of a blizzard is pretty terrifying. There’s nothing quite like seeing a snowplow coming right for you with half a foot of snow on your other side. No one likes trudging through the snow, and all the rock salt they throw down isn’t good for dog paws, so we came up with a solution. Using time and hard work, we started shoveling out a dog maze every winter. The best part about it is it’s always different, and you can make it anyway you want. All you need are some shovels. We usually make high towers to hide behind and wide open spaces I like to call puppy play spaces (but really he mostly uses it to do his business 🙃). I’ve also wanted to try and make him some bridges and tunnels, so that’s this winter’s goal! Always be cautious if you’re trying this at home. When the snow starts to melt and refreeze, thenpathway can get a little icy. Throw down some sand or kitty litter if you’re afraid of slipping! Just remember to wash off your dog’s paws after coming inside to help keep them clean. If you’re curious to see how this year’s maze will turn out, check back throughout the winter, I’ll be recording our process as we go!

There’s always something fun you can do with your pups, no matter the season or your financial situation. Luckily dogs just want us to spend time with them, and that’s the best free activity you can do. If you have anything fun you love doing with your pet, let me know! I would love to hear from you ☺️. Until next time.

[alloftimeandspacetosee]

Diaval, Lord of Vampires

And sometimes, you just... you gotta say the big death legendary isn’t as evil as all that

 like sure, he created the vampires, but like... c��mon, he was young! He made mistakes, we all do that.

~

I tramped through the snow, pulling my heavy coat tighter around me. Arc padded at my side, melting off the worst of the snow, and Vulp was bounding ahead of us, constantly lost to side.

Damn these snow storms. I really chose the worst times to go up these mountains.

Brith trudged at my side, flicking snow from her aura sensors.

Aria shivered behind us, whining.

“It’s fine, Aria. I’ve been through worse.” But if only that wind would stop!

Something roared ahead of us, and Ray roared in reply, crackling electricity.

“On guard, guys. Aria, what exactly is ahead?” We’d been told a few stories, enough to know that there was something here.

Aria barked and jumped between Brith and I, brandishing her small stick, swirling it to control a plume of fire that erupted towards us.

A pyroar, old and scarred but still proud and strong. Ray crashed into it from the side, Yen hard on his tail for any others.

“Arc, go with them. Glace? Stick close.”

Arc nodded and ploughed ahead, and we stopped as a whole pack raced after Ray and Yen. The three of them could manage. I was fairly sure.

Sesser cheeped and huddled into my neck, burrowing under the scarf.

I touched the hilts of the knives under my coat, making sure they were still there, and forged on with fewer pokémon.

The mountain loomed up through the snow, and then there was a dark cave opening.

Vulp stood in the entrance, tails splayed out with a small ball of fire hovering above each one.

Glace padded forward to join her, growling softly.

As I entered the cave, I pulled off my hat and knocked the snow from it, looking around. My breath plumed in front of me. “Is this it?”

Vulp rubbed up against my ankles, and I bent to stroke her.

Aria stepped forward and nodded cautiously.

Brith placed her paws together, palms flat against each other, and bowed her head as her aura sensors flared. “There is something old and powerful before us. I think–” She cut off, looking up sharply.

Glace and Vulp stepped forward to join them, growling as their hackles raised.

There was a steady glow of something coming towards us, accompanied by a scuttling.

“What’s that?” I reached for my knives.

A silver bisharp appeared first, older than any bisharp I had encountered before. Its coat was scraped clean of any other colour, and it looked brittle in places.

Brith raised her fists, barking out a challenge.

And then the source of the glow reached us. Magcargo. They came along the walls, oozing magma down them to drip onto the floor. Drapion behind the bisharp.

This wasn’t looking so good.

Aria spun fire, Glace brought ice to herself. Vulp straightened up and yapped, the flames above her tails shining more brightly.

“We’ll make an opening,” Brith said. “And you will run.”

“Brith–”

“We need to find out what’s in there. Vulp, you will go with her.”

I frowned. Fighting pokémon wasn’t exactly in my expertise, but…

At a sharp bark from Brith, Sesser left my shoulder for the blizzard outside, trilling sharply.

“Blue, go. The pack will come back.”

I nodded, drawing my hands back from my knives. “When you’re ready, then.”

The bisharp swung up a bladed arm to point at Brith, presumably replying to her challenge.

Brith snarled back – and they attacked.

The bisharp swung for her – and Brith dodged, lunging for the nearest magcargo. Vulp and Glace were concentrating on the drapion, while Aria spun and swung her fire like a fist to buffet the bisharp.

I started to run, flexing arms that prickled feathers for a quick escape if I needed it.

As I passed, Vulp bounded to my side and forced back the drapion in our way.

And then we were past, but still running, running down the tunnel into the darkness – Vulp kept fire above her tails, but they were flat out behind her, and the light bobbed alarmingly.

“Vulp!” I called her to slow down as the tunnel started to widen out, and raised my right hand for a torch.

We emerged into a giant cave, with walls glimmering black in the fire light. Things shifted above us and I flinched, looking up. The fire revealed not just the strange black walls, but eyes far above us.

And then, before us in the middle of the cavern, on a nest of the black stone and black feathers – something shifted. It has been a long time since anyone bothered to visit.

I blinked, not able to make out much of the creature before us. “Well, it’s a hard walk. And your guards…”

Vulp growled, pressing back against my legs.

They are very loyal. The voice – whatever it was – sounded almost amused. Did they give you much trouble?

“My – my crew are still fighting back there.” I peered into the darkness, not wanting to flare the fire any brighter for fear of angering the ‘bats.

Whatever it was raised itself up and sort of rolled carefully down out of the nest. Then it called out in strange, ululating tones that echoed around the cavern.

I lost the fire as I clapped my hands over my ears, the ‘bats joining in above us with their screeches.

Vulp flattened her own ears to her skull, cowering between my legs.

Then, almost all at once, the noise stopped and the creature – the pokémon – was looming over me, though I thought it was sitting down.

Now. Introductions. You are not one of Kalos. You smell… of snow.

“I am BlueJay NightGale, of Snowpoint.”

Ah… the hunter.

“You know of me?”

My children whisper of you as they hide.

 “You… your children?”

Have you not heard of me? It lifted itself up and spread out its wings. I am Yveltal, father to all vampires.

I hissed, and reached for a knife. This was what created them?

But you may call me Diaval, if I may call you Jay. It dropped back down, folding in its wings and assuming a less threatening pose.

“You… what?”

There was a pattering of paws behind me, and Brith and Aria joined us again, Glace hard on their heels.

“They left us,” Brith said. “After that shriek, they just… is this what we were looking for?”

You fought with Ganbaater? You must be a good fighter.

Brith narrowed her eyes. “My sister took the bisharp. But if you wish to find out, I am ready.” She lifted her fists, Xerneas crystal still glimmering along her spikes.

I have no quarrel. Yveltal laughed. My children are numerous. You do a good thing.

“Your… children?”

“He created the vampires,” I muttered, hands crossed over and resting on a handle each under my coat.

I created the first, when I was much younger. Now I hold no interest in them. My name is Diaval. And yours?

“Brith Khar,” she answered, frowning.

Jay, dear, I’m not going to attack. You may relax.

I dropped my hands from the hilts, staring at him. “Forgive me if I’m a little bit cautious. Your children are… tricky.”

I know. He sounded satisfied at that, as if he were smiling. Now tell me, was there anything you came up here for?

“We… heard that there was an ancient evil. And… well.” I shrugged. “We thought maybe there was something that could help us, or something to stop.”

And there is only me. Tell me, what has been going on in the world? I have been cut off for so long.

I stared at… Diaval. This – this legendary wasn’t evil, wasn’t vicious. Not like the others I knew. He was… more genuine.

“I don’t think we can stay for long,” I said automatically.

Oh. He sighed, slumping down. But – perhaps you will come back? With only Ganbaater for company, it can get very dull here.

“Perhaps,” I said cautiously.

I look forward to your next visit already, Jay.

I shook my head and shrugged. “Yeah. Uh – see you.” I turned on my heel and left, the others following me.