#trying to flesh out my bastion

[glowstone23b]

Haven't posted anything in a long time, so. New oc! :)

This is Crimsonwire, 'Crim' for short. They're the resident mechanic of my bastion, and help with building and janitorial stuff at times where it's needed. She's a bit of a busybody and loves to tinker with stuff, so 90% of the time her arm isn't working because she's trying out a new prototype. We love her though.

[here-there-be-drag0ns]

sighs giggles kicks my feet. imagining after the riptide pirates escape the promised bastion gillions adrenaline rush wearing off and the fact that he has literally been mostly skinned alive hitting him full force. all of a sudden the pain he was able to push through to get his friends to safety is drowning him and he just collapses like a sack of fucking bricks. not even a chance to voice his agony before he is out fucking cold, very pale with a weak pulse and blood sluggishly pooling around him. the scramble to treat his wounds, using as much healing magic as they have on him even though they havent got much magic left in general, trying to find bandages and wrap his wounds without tearing his flesh worse. and all the while gillion is so very cold and pale and silent and still,, and it freaks the crew out more than theyll ever admit to him because the only other time theyve seen him like this they were certain he was going to die.

[imperator-titus]

Favorite Party Banter [Karlach Edition]

[Astarion (Ascended)] [Halsin/Jaheira] [Gale] [Karlach] [Lae'zel] [Minsc] [Minthara] [Shadowheart] [Wyll]

I often miss party banter because of party comp (and sometimes just straight up can't hear??) so here's a collection of my favorite bants while going through dialogue files. I know the wiki has the banter (most? all?) but I added the file names and dev notes.

Either Karlach is the main speaker/subject or I think Karlach's reaction is good shit.

Not in any particular order.

[PB_Shadowheart_Karlach_Monastery]

Shadowheart: A remote spot for a monastery. I suppose they wanted to make sure the monks avoided temptation. {Devnote: Considering a large ruined monastery high up in a mountain pass. Early Game/Still loyal to Shar}

Karlach: Yeah but look at these mountains. The height of temptation.

Shadowheart: No, I mean more like vices. You know - pleasures of the flesh. {Devnote: A bit confused by Karlach’s musing}

Karlach: Met a loumara demon who married a mountain, though. It's a thing. {Devnote: Amused}

Shadowheart: I think the thin air might be getting to you, Karlach. {Devnote: Amused laugh}

[PB_Shadowheart_Karlach_ROM_Act2_001]

Karlach: Hey, Shaddy, got a quick question about the best way to treat an infernal burn.

Shadowheart: Shaddy? Really? {Devnote: Reacting to Karlach trying out nicknames for her, Loyal/Reject Shar}

Karlach: Hearty? Shadsy? Or maybe just The Fringe?

Shadowheart: ‘Shadowheart’ will do just fine, thanks. Love is making you fanciful.

Karlach: You might be right. {Devnote: Cheeky}

[PB_Karlach_Astarion_ROM_Act1_001]

Karlach: I never was a sucker for a smooth-talker, but I admit, Astarion, you’re pretty slick.

Astarion: And you’re rather the opposite of slick. Do you have a point?

Karlach: I was just being nice.

Astarion: Step one of starting a conversation: think before you speak.

Karlach: Never was my strong suit.

[PB_Halsin_Karlach_MoonriseSCE]

Halsin: We have lifted the shadow curse, but a new challenge awaits us.

Karlach: Baldur’s Gate - we can’t get there soon enough.

Halsin: I am… less anxious to find myself in a city. So removed from nature’s power - I do not know how I will fare.

Karlach: Stick with me. I’ll show you around and square up if anyone bothers you.

[PB_Karlach_Shadowheart_MorphicPool]

Karlach: I can tell when we’re getting close to a mind flayer area because everything starts to smell purple.

Shadowheart: That’s either profoundly poetic or childishly simple. I’m going with poetic.

Karlach: A compliment from Shadowheart! I’ll put it on the shelf with the rest of my achievements.

[PB_Karlach_Laezel_IllithidColony]

Karlach: Look at all this mucus. Wonder if our nautiloid came from down here.

Lae’zel: It’s a possibility. This is no mere mind flayer colony, but an entire ghaik bastion.

Karlach: I’m ready for the goo. {Devnote: With determination, not trying to make a joke strictly}

[PB_Karlach_Astarion_FelogyrsFireworks]

Karlach: Oh man! WHIZBANGS! {Devnote: Excited in a fireworks shop}

Astarion: Keep calm, Karlach. One bad flare and you could blow this whole place.

Karlach: (Oh man! Whizbangs!) {Devnote: Whispering now cause Astarion told her to calm down}

Astarion: Better.

[PB_Minthara_Karlach_ROM_Act3]

Minthara: You allowed that smith to meddle with your heart, Karlach, simply so you can be touched?

Minthara: Better to shut off the carnal desires than indulge them. They are distractions.

Karlach: Yes, because every function comes with a handy switch.

Karlach: Next time I'm injured, don't heal, just turn me off and on again.

[growthgoddess]

Elara's Enchantment

An unruly mob has gathered at your palace gates. They are voicing disdain and disappointment over your rule as king of their lands. They were promised bountiful seasons and everlasting joy, perhaps overpromised. You only wanted to be loved, but now your subjects have overpowered your guards and are now threatening to tear down your palace gates with a battering ram.

You furrow your brow, feeling desperation sink in. If they catch you, they would probably see you hanged, or even worse, burnt at the stake. The last remaining guards of your palace have deserted you and a cold sweat trickles down your forehead as a chill rushes down your spine.

However, relief washes over you when your beloved queen, Elara, puts her hand on your shoulder. The weight of her hand along with her warmth, envelopes you. You are loved with her, you are safe with her.

Queen Elara: My love, leave this to your queen. I will deal with them personally.

Confused and worried, you try to turn to her and reach out. What could she have meant? But before you could even say a word, she vanishes from your balcony and materializes at the grand staircase from the castle gates below you.

Thunder rumbles and the orange sunset sky darkens, your queen stands before the palace gates, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

She reveals a large tome that crackles with mystical, purple energy in her hands, as she begins her monologue.

Queen Elara: Hahaha! Oh, dear subjects, you thought you could challenge the throne? How amusing! Your pitiful king may have been weak in his promises, but you will soon see that he pales in comparison to your dear Queen Elara! You wish to raid the palace? Oh, you will get more than you bargained for.

With a flourish and a series of exotic hand gestures, the queen opens the tome, revealing ancient runes and incantations. Her voice takes on an eerie, demonic tone as she recites an unholy spell.

The mob grips their pitchforks, torches, and swords tighter. Their leader, the man who seeks to usurp the throne, rallies them to push on and continue breaking down the gates.

The two last palace guards standing beside Queen Elara begin cowering in fear over the events that are transpiring before them.

Queen Elara: Unnamable Gods, O Powers of Old, I call upon Thee! Fill my supple form with your might. I offer to Thee my flesh that I can strike fear in Thy names! Grant me strength beyond measure, make me a terror they will never forget! Let your essence seep into my muscle, bone, and sinew. Let your bounty embolden my body! Let them cower at my raw might, bless me with your succor!

A dark aura envelops your queen, and power surges to her veins. The very air is stirs with an unspeakable energy. The people could taste the metallic flavor of the wind as powers beyond their recognition twist the body of the woman before them.

You stand in both awe and terror at the capability of your wife. She has always been fond of perusing the scriers archives during her free time, and now you are witnessing the very fruits of her passion take shape as she defends your last bastion.

The incantations from the weathered tome fills the grand staircase leading to the palace entrance as she raised her arms, the words flowing off her tongue like a wicked melody.

Then, it began.

At first, the change appears subtle. Her regal gown, once a symbol of her grace, tightens imperceptibly around her form. The fabric shifts around, trying to accommodate something moving inside, something growing. Smooth embroidered silk strains against her skin, hinting at the growing power within. Queen Elara, however, remains composed, her eyes fiercely fixed at the terrified mob attempting to break down the formidable gates.

Then came the first audible rip. Her tight corset immediately loses to the growing woman's burgeoning body.

Next came her gown, the exquisite fabric, woven with threads of gold and silver, surrenders to the queen's expanding frame. With each passing moment, she feels herself grow taller, her limbs elongating, and her body stretching. Her breasts, once modest, have begun to fill with mass and milk. Her arms thicken with muscle and girth.

Audible moans escape her lips as she grows in spurts that feels like orgasms at every release.

The gown protests but could not keep up the losing battle, her seams burst open like fireworks, the sound audible throughout the area.

Queen Elara's lips curl into a malevolent, triumphant smile as her once regal gown now hangs in tatters around her.

She stands tall, her figure outlined by the shimmering remnants of her attire. To her, the world seems to shrink from her ascending perspective, the threatening size of the amassed townsfolk dwindling as she continued to grow.

Queen Elara: BWAHAHA, Look at me! I am growing into a force that will quell your insolence!

Your queen, now a monstrous growing behemoth, turns to look at you looking down from the balcony.

Queen Elara: My beloved king, you need not cower any longer. For it is they who will fear me now, and through their fear, they will understand the consequences of betraying the crown!

Her laughter, now dark and melodic, blast their ears as she guffawed. The torn gown fell away in tatters, unable to contain her majestic size any longer.

Queen Elara, now a giantess, stands amidst the ruins of her regal attire. She was a monument to dark power, her eyes ablaze with the might of ancient forces.

Then, with a booming voice, she declared.

Queen Elara: A queen must protect her king, no matter the price! I shall be your shield, my love, and none shall dare to defy us again!

The malevolent tome that has begun floating around her as she grew suddenly glowed and flew towards her, ramming her chest with immense force. She winced and took a step back. Her heavy feet cracks the floor to the castle door and she tries to lean on something for support.

That was when it hit you and her. She was leaning on your elevated balcony for support! She has grown even bigger now!

Queen Elara glances at her chest to see that it is now pulsing with purple energy. The tome has entered her body to become a more efficient channel to this otherworldly power flowing within her.

Queen Elara, now confident with her might, strides forth, her steps like seismic rumbles. The ground shakes beneath her feet as she surveys the peasants below with eyes that glitters with both malignant glee and unbridled fury.

Queen Elara turns towards her beloved king and picks you up with her hand. You seemed like a child's doll compared to her now. She winks at you and places you on her shoulder. Then, she grasps a nearby guard tower and yanks it off the bastille foundations. With ease, she breaks it with her bare hands.

Queen Elara: We will no longer need this petty castle! I shall be your fortress, my king! My love will protect you from every danger, every threat! Hold on tight, my dear, this will be perilous!

With a powerful heave, she breaks through the castle gates, her massive form now emerging to engage the fleeing masses. Your once mighty castle now seems minuscule behind her.

Queen Elara: This is my new order, hear your queen's decree! Guards, rally to me! Let us crush this rebellion and restore order!

The remaining castle guards drew courage from this and cheer at the massive Elara. They gear up and start pouring out of the castle behind her and into the town. A massive civil war breaks out, but the odds are in your favor with your beloved queen taking to the front lines.

She turns to you and whispers gingerly.

Queen Elara: Fear not, my beloved king! Your queen shall be your protector, your shield, and your wrath! Those who defy us will meet their end at my hands!

But before you stands one obstacle. The leader of the mob. The one who organized this whole rebellion - The Usurper.

He stands before you and Elara with unmatched courage as he draws his sword which he anoints with blessed oil and enchants with a glowing yellow aura.

Queen Elara: Ha! You dare raise your blade at me? You are defeated, your mob routed. Kneel before your ruler, your queen, and we may yet spare you! O Usurper, should you still dare challenge us, then you shall feel the consequences of my ire!

Queen Elara charges at the hero with all her might. The darkened sky above breaks out into a chorus of unspeakable melodies and chants to herald the incarnation of the Unnamable Gods that is your wife. An epic battle between a force of order and chaos ensues.

[uncommonsprig]

Day 2 of @khoc-week Past:

Work has me a bit delayed but i’m still getting to it!!

I did a little decedent chart of my dandelions group.

Addy (Adylne) is straight up coming from the player character she is the only one of my dandelions that can create portals to other worlds but isn’t entirely sure how to control it yet.

Kitty is back and she is on Master Ava’s family line She keeps Master Ava’s moral code and always lets her heart be her guiding key.

Auriel and Kaine come from Master Aced’s family line. In my original narrative kitty and auriel are cousins but i still got some fleshing out to do there.

Auriel is keeper of the book in the Bastion he is the only one of the new dandelions with prior knowledge of the keyblade war and history of there powers though it does take hi time to translate the book.

Kaine is the only one who knew of his birthright since childhood and feels a sense of entitlement to his keyblade becoming a bit resentful to the others for seemingly subbing upon the responsibility which sense him into a spiral ripe to be taken over by darkness.

Irina and Faye are sisters and both descendants from luxu taking after two different lives of his. Faye is the first one to obtain a chirithy and her and Irina take great care of em they have a alert just outside of the bastion and are trying to piece together what is going on alone until meeting kitty and lining the pieces up together

That’s all i got right this moment

[creativecuteness]

Happy November 1st

Welp, the boops are gone, (Sadly I couldn't max mine out, I was too busy too but at least I got booped by a lot of people.) Halloween is over and I've still got a few Halloween fic chapters that need to be posted however after that I'll be taking a writing break. I've been busting my butt for a few months straight and I kind of struggled with writing motivation this month and when that happens, I know it's time to take some time off of fanfic writing. However, you're not going empty handed this month. Let's take a look at what will be posted both on here and my other socials.

Chapter 2 of Whitechapel Adventures Remastered: I was really hoping to post this more frequently, but I underestimated how long some of the chapters are and then I got caught up with Rory week and my free week chapter ended up being longer than I thought. But the chapter will come out soon.

One of a Kind Vamp: Chapter 5: As I said before, this is meant to be the free day prompt I wanted to get this out yesterday, but the chapter was longer than I thought and took longer to proofread and to be fair I hate rushing my fic's out, so I decided to just give it one more day in the oven it should be out later today.

Ghosts of the Past Chapter 5: Started work on this chapter a while ago and have yet to finish it I don't want to leave unfinished chapters for months at a time now, so I'll try to finish it this month.

My New Life in Despair School: four years ago, I created a Danganrpona 1 retelling with my OC's back in September I officially remastered the first act as a challenge to myself to see how far I've gotten as a writer and when I tell you I've fallen in love with the rewrite would be an understatement. However, I ran into a problem I met someone on ao3 who decided to help me flesh out the story a few years ago and I can't bring myself to just undo all that work. So, I'm officially starting the story all over again and labeling my original as Losercandy's edit. That way I won't have to undo all the work and take away the co-author credit because he helped me so much in my writing journey and it feels so wrong to take it all away. You can expect the new remaster on ao3 however Tumblr and Fanfiction.net will be under the original title since I never ported Losercandy's edit over there (mostly because I didn't know if it was allowed.)

The Adventure of a Lifetime The beginning of the end arc: Five years ago, I would start this story and now it's time to close the book so I can prepare for the next one. My Kingdom Hearts story is returning hopefully this month with both Neverland and Hallow Bastion my favorite world in Kingdom Hearts 1 and my all-time favorite part of the game (Mostly because I love Dark Riku's outfit come on guys he looks sooo good in it.) KH2 fanfic will still be a bit away but maybe I can post it monthly next year who knows (Hopefully it won't take me five years to finish it)

I think that's it; my new writing schedule is Monday's and Fridays this month only however I hope by December a few fic's will be finished but who knows with that said, I love you guys, and I hope we all have a good November. :)

[blackjackkent]

OK, more Rakha adventures. (I still have a couple of the micro-fic prompts in my inbox; will finish them either later or tomorrow. <3 )

We left off having knocked out Minthara (though Rakha thinks she killed her) and killed Gut, so that just leaves Boss Ragzlin as the last remaining leadership bastion of the Absolute in the goblin camp. We're going to go get Halsin first, though, since the entrance to the warg pens is right near Minthara, and Rakha has heard enough from various people in the camp to indicate that's where Halsin is being held.

And sure enough...

How bear-y unexpected. *rimshot*

Rakha doesn't bother trying to reason with the goblins about letting him out; simply offers them a taste of their own medicine immediately, which is enough to inspire Halsin to slam the iron bars down on the nearest enemy.

Rakha's bloodthirst kicks in at this point and the team steamrolls the rest of the goblins (despite my forgetting that everyone was out of spell slots from dealing with everything in Gut's area :P whoops).

-----

Rakha hunches in a corner of the room as the last goblin falls, slowly emerging from the violent haze in which the dark urge left her during the battle. She watches, hollow-eyed, as the bear comes to a halt in front of her... and then changes.

It occurs to me that Rakha heard something from the goblins about Halsin turning into a bear, and presumably she's gotten a rundown on how druids operate from Wyll, but this is nevertheless a supremely weird thing to encounter for the first time. So watching this transformation is more than a little fascinating; she watches with intent interest as the the Weave swirls around the bear, as the flesh slowly morphs and twists into a huge, barrel-chested elven man with shaggy dark hair.

Very like the bear, still, she thinks.

She still feels the urge's hunger at the back of her mind - the desire to kill, the need for another round of blood spilled. But as always, her surprise and need for knowledge do more to subdue the dark urge than almost anything else, and she stares with frank curiosity at the man as the Weave slowly begins to settle back towards tranquility.

The enormous elf's eyes fix on her, and then he grins good-naturedly, flicking lingering goblin blood off his hands. "Pardon the viscera," he says casually. "One should cherish all of nature's bounty - but goblin guts are quite far down the list."

He gives her a look up and down, and then his smile widens. He seems quite unfazed by the amount of dead goblins surrounding them, or the danger that he has been in. "You aided a bear without knowing if it would savage you? A true friend of nature," he says cheerfully. "Or perhaps a lunatic. Either way, I owe thanks. I am the druid Halsin."

Rakha nods curtly. She knew that already. She knows more than he thinks. "I spoke to Nettie," she says brusquely, cutting straight to the heart of the matter as always. "She said you could help me with the parasite in my head."

Halsin blinks. Then his smile fades rapidly, replaced by a look of intense concern.

"Parasite in your head? You mean... you have one of *them*?"

Before Rakha can respond, he lifts a hand, and she watches the Weave spasm as he casts a spell she does not recognize. Gold light floods the area, passing around her and through her. She can almost feel the warm pulse of energy as it lingers in her temple where the worm sits.

Then Halsin's hand falls back to his side. The light fades. He looks grim and sad, as if suddenly bearing a century's worth of troubles.

"Oak Father preserve you, child..." he murmurs. "You're infected, aren't you? The mind flayers' spawn..." He trails off, and then he tips his head to one side. She can see the workings of a quick mind flashing behind his eyes. In spite of his hulking appearance, this man is no fool. "But something's... different," he goes on pensively. "You're aware of the monster inside you. You don't bow to the Absolute, like the True Souls do. How is this possible..."

Rakha considers in silence for a moment before answering. There seems little point in hiding anything from this man; besides Lae'zel's creche, he is the best hope of answers they have. She reaches into her pack, pulls out the small multi-sided artifact that protected them on the bride.

"I think this artifact has something to do with it," she says.

Halsin squints at it. "Hm. That looks very alien," he says. "As alien as the mind flayers. They do not belong on this world." His lips purse tightly. "You weren't speaking lightly when you said you needed help. Let me tell you what I know."

Rakha straightens attentively; her eyes, already focused, now burn into him. A flicker of a smile crosses his face as he registers her eagerness for what he can tell her.

"I've been studying these parasites for a while now," he goes on. "Ever since I discovered these so-called True Souls are infected with them. Someone is using very powerful magic to modify these tadpoles. They are using them to exert control over the infected."

Rakha nods. Yes. That tracks with what she has seen. Gut, for all her faith, did not know what she carried in her head; she was being utterly controlled, completely manipulated. Modification to the tadpoles makes sense; it explains the discrepancies with Gale's descriptions of ceremorphosis.

"I'm sorry to say I can't undo that magic," Halsin continues. "Which means I can't cure you. But that doesn't mean I can't help. I didn't find what I came here for - a way to remove the tadpoles - but I found the next best thing. I found out where they come from. That must be where these enchantments are placed on them, and it's where you'll find your cure."

Rakha's whole body goes still. Ah.

It should be disappointing that Halsin cannot help them, and on some level she supposes it is - but that doesn't matter. Lae'zel will bring them to the githyanki, and at the creche the matter of the worm will be resolved. Her greater concern is this cult that put the thing in her in the first place - answers followed by vengeance. And Halsin is saying he knows where to find both.

"Tell me what you've learned," she rasps, "of the tadpoles' origins."

"I overheard that the cultists are sending all of their captives to Moonrise Towers," Halsin answers. "Innocents go in, True Souls come out. Given that all of these True Souls are infected, it has to be the source of the magic. If you want to find a cure, you must head there and discover how the tadpoles are being manipulated."

Moonrise Towers. She has already heard that name - from the halfling trader in the main hall. She too mentioned that the goblins were sending prisoners there. The picture is coming together, piece by piece - and with it, a plan. The creche to remove the worms, and then this Moonrise, where she will see to it that whoever is behind this scheme is properly rewarded for what they have done to her.

As for the elf... she peers at Halsin thoughtfully. He has answered her questions directly and clearly, and she suspects there is more of use that he could tell her. "You seem to know a lot about this," she says. "Will you come with me to Moonrise?"

Halsin frowns and gives a single, sharp shake of his head. "I wish I could. But there's still work I've yet to finish. Blood I've yet to spill." A pause, and then he looks to Rakha with the same sudden fixity of attention that she has been giving him. "I've no right to ask more of you - but if you could help me, I'd be free to join your journey to Moonrise. I cannot allow these butchers to threaten my grove. The natural order must be preserved."

There is a ferocity under the words that stirs at the dark urge in Rakha's brain. She can follow his intentions clearly enough. He means, even if she does not, to kill the remaining goblins here and finish this arm of the cult for good and all. And he wants her to help him.

As if she would do otherwise. She was ready to kill them before; he merely gives her another reason. She nods sharply, her pupils dilating. "All right," she says curtly. "How do I help?"

He details the plan in crisp, concise sentences, and none of it is surprising. Kill the three leaders, and the place will fall apart. One thing he adds, though, is surprising, enough to give Rakha a momentary pause.

"Be warned. My presence could make things more difficult. I can only restrain my bear form so much. I won't be able to help but attack goblins. If I join you, we'll likely have to slaughter this entire place. You may want to use discretion when approaching the goblin leaders."

Wyll laughs suddenly, shaking his head. When Halsin turns a confused look on him, he shrugs. "I think you may find, friend, that discretion isn't exactly a watchword around here," he says dryly. "So I think you'll fit in just fine."

Rakha ignores the humor; she is deep in thought. Yes - this man must join them. He is like her, like Astarion. He has a beast in him too. He understands about rage that cannot be controlled. "Come with me," she says hoarsely.

Halsin smiles slowly, and then his features begin to fade as he hunches forward, his muscles twisting back into the bear form. "So be it..." he growls, before language is lost to him. "May Silvanus lend us nature's fury."

[movedtodykedvonte]

What mega Minecraft theory?

Ok, so it's my theory that the player characters in Minecraft were the original humans that inadvertently caused their own extinction through a selfish desire to harness the arcane/mystic arts of the Minecraft world. I started making this theory before the mobeastiary came out and ever since I've just been expanding on it with the book's lore and each subsequent update to the game that seems to just support it more and more. Under the cut cause, oh boy is this long:

I believe that ancient humans discovered the existence of magic through villagers, clerics specifically, and became interested in using it themselves.

However, villagers were adamant not to, knowing how the misuse of magic could lead to dire consequences. Illagers and ravengers their prime examples. Still, humans were stubborn

through research they found out about other dimensions, starting with the nether. The nether was a hostile and inhabitable place that had valuable resources such as netherite, potion materials, and all the other reasons we regularly venture there.

Realizing that they were outmatched in sheer numbers and knowledge of the realm by piglins, the wither plague, and the general terrain, humans retreated, abandoning these fortresses and bastions indefinitely until they could create the means to conquer them.

This leads to my theory on creatures of the overworld. Creepers were man-made, designed specifically to blend in with their surroundings to sneak up on enemies before igniting, hence why their insides literally have like TNT in them.

They were dumb and didn't account if these things bred and became feral so... Thank them for these silent bombers.

Strongholds and what we find underground

Once they realized they could not control these creatures, the remaining humans began moving to the only safe place, underground. This is where strongholds first started. In hopes to combat the beasts they created, they began studying and exploring magic and potion arts even more, hence the libraries and materials found in them. Trial tests yielded successfully; potions of leaping or healing proof they could use this to possibly win back their world.

However, there were detractors, ones tired of their reliance on means that continued to doom them. efforts of sabotage yielded potions of harming and slowness, attempts to prove how easy yet another venture into mysticism could hurt them.

The detractors were proven correct when the unstable potions had unexpected effects. Early healing potions did in fact keep you going once wounded... even if mortally. The properties of these early tests led to what we know as zombies and skeletons, humans kept alive but rotting, mindless, and violent as their soul rots with their flesh.

This, along to contain criminals, is why there are prisons in strongholds

Due to how many people had these potions, it was inevitable that zombies and the undead would not overrun the place, people being turned through attacks or other causes, and the strongholds becoming tombs for those

In a ditch effort, they used their last option, the unknown dimension only known as the end. Ones that didn't want to risk it, fled deeper into the earth in hopes it'd be enough

Those that did neither continued to live in the world, creating mine systems to get around and survive until they too died out. Some even ventured back up tired of living in fear and determined to fix what they had done to themselves. Igloos with Z.Villagers were labs by those trying to rectify the past.

The End and Cities

those who went to the end were met with the fucking dragon of course. The reason this dimension was so unknown was that those who went never came back.

Very few people survived, those that did having used the fountain to escape, sealing it with magic that would only break when the dragon was slain. However, they were not sent home.

They were sent to the end islands, a deeper more secure but mostly barren level of the end. Having a source of food and the little resources they brought, they set up a way of life, hoping to figure out a way back, eventually...

Cities and sky fleets were made. One for stability and the other for exploration in hopes to find something in the vast nothing.

I believe they found shulks and phantoms... or what phantoms were in the end. I believe membranes fix elytras cause they were the wings of the phantoms in the end dimension before being cut off by desperate and selfish humans. Hence why they haunt players in the overworld.

Based on the bestiary, Endermen are oddly similar to players' own constructs, besides the obvious. My theory is spending too much time in any dimension warps you to meet that dimension's standards, the humans needing longer limbs to reach the strange fruit of the trees, bigger and tougher jaws to crack the shell, and even taking on priorities of the fruit itself (warping to other islands)

Effectively, it was a rapid evolution, one that saw many of these altered humans forfeiting their old ways of life and abandoning the cities and sky fleets they had made, and returning to the main end zone.

Strangely, the dragon was docile to them and they began to coexist, those that missed their home and had not seen the overworld for years used their new abilities to return home, collecting pieces of their old world in a sad way to feel at home

Ancient Cities, the Warden, and the portal

Those that went deeper just repeated what they did with the strongholds but better, creating entire structures and ecosystems to mimic their old lives and trying to learn from past mistakes.

Still, hubris continued to plague them. They too heard of another unexplored or really known dimension. One that alluded to something great and powerful that they hoped

When they built and activated the portal what they got was the skulk. Too fearful of what the portal yielded no one ever actually went in, simply keeping it open to let more of the odd substance in. Curiosity killed the cat

At first, they just explored its properties, it worked much like the mycelium on the mushroom islands but was more... fleshy... sturdy, and practically indestructible. They believed it could be used to reinforce their defenses in case anything attacked. In believing this they covered the area with it.

No one knew what to do when sensors or shriekers appeared, or when the odd substance made people sick or when their deaths from the mysterious illness made the substance grow, feeding off the life of those it claimed.

No one knew what to do when the Warden showed up, a creature seemingly made of the lost souls and rotting bodies of their lost, held together by the skulk. The Warden seemingly full of the hate of those brought back, was vengeful in a way no one could have prepared for

As long as the portal was open the warden didn't despawn, hunting down and killing the leftover humans in mass until precautions to avoid it were taken. They discovered it was blind, relied on all other senses, and used wool to navigate around it

Still, they were dropping until only one was left. They didn't last long either but they did close the portal, stopping the spread and allowing the warden to dispel with time, nothing to feed on. They also destroyed any documents on how to activate the portal to ensure the beast would never be able to reign free again. (This is the collective story I pieced together with discs 5, 11, and 13)

Other Stuff

Our player is simply a human who either has amnesia or escaped the horrors and is simply trying to survive in t world that it now knows will show no mercy to it

Spiders are that big cause I believe humans did something trying to create mega flora and fauna to expedite/enhance farming and backfired immensely with these bugs.

This also explains why guardians are like that as they are a horrid mix of every underwater mob with none of their benefits.

It is unknown if anyone did really make it into the portal in the ancient cities as there was no way they were coming back with the warden about. Then the portal was closed

This doesn't fit anywhere but endermen get mad when stared at cause they envy the innocence in the eyes of those who did not share their fate. Also, their hearts are the pearls, calcified by the effects of the fruit and years in the end realm.

If there's anything else that's not clear or needs explaining please tell me! I have so many aspects explained in journals and docs over the years and I'd hate to have something be confusing cause I was excited to share!

[screechingsandwichhologram]

I've realized that i havent properly introduced my ocs yet so. here is a BASIC rundown of my ocs & who they know/are related to & who they are. im going to try to keep this as basic and simple but its kinda hard for me to do that

first things first: they are dsmp worldbuilding ocs. they have very little to do with the actual canon, but you will recognize some things. also I've kinda repurposed some characters for my own lore

also : techno is NOT the blood god. he's the blood god's champion. the blood god is a separate god

okay so lets get into it

EROS : she/it/love. she's the goddess of love, and is also a war god (War of Love). love is c!ranboo's mom. she is married to Erebus, and is queen of the end. she does very little politics, and is more into outreach than policy. she is very kind and gentle, but can be terrifying. she is immortal. she is the child of Hysteria and the Blood God. because of this, it is not an ancient god, and therefore isn't extremely powerful. she's a shapeshifter. love lives in the End

EREBUS: they/she. she's the ruler of the end. they are a very good and fair ruler. she is the twin of z. z & erebus overthrew the old ruler. they are married to Eros, and are c!ranboo's other mom. they are the child of an enderman and the god of the void. they are immortal. they live in the end.

Z: they/them. they are erebus's twin. child of an enderman and the god of the void. they live in the end. they are a scholar and a scientist. they helped organize the people for the rebellion to overthrow the old king

^these guys all live at the same time and regularly interact !!!!

CRESSIDA: she/her. she's the child of the goddess of the nether and the blood god. she is very kind and extremely loyal and protective. she is also a badass warrior. she died during battle protecting her sounder (shes a piglin hybrid btw) which made her ascend to godhood. her physical body became jewels and precious metals and stuff (why piglins love gold) so as a god she doesn't have a physical form. like if she tries hard enough she can appear in dreams but it takes a lot out of her. she died a long time BEFORE eros & erebus were even born so they never met

OBERON: he/they. he's the child of hysteria and some (probably) forest nymph. he lost his memory, so he doesn't remeber his past at all. he was found wandering the nether by cressida. she brought him into the bastion and helped him gain his feet. he was head over heels in love with her. she eventually becomes good friends with her. she's also aroace (it's okay tho cause they r lithoromantic so it works out). she is his everything. he struggles a lot with his mind bending powers from their dad (hysteria), and cressida grounds him. when she dies, he looses it and decimates the nether with his powers. using cressidas teachings, he manages to control it to a forest he grew, thus becoming the god of warped forests. he lives in self-imposed exile, away from anyone.

^cressida and oberon are BEFORE eros & erebus & z!! they don't interact with them.

THE GOD OF BLOOD, FLESH, AND BONE: aka the blood god. they/them mainly but also chill with it & he. an ancient god (original). born in the overworld. made a deal with the goddess of the nether to live there. domain is the physical body. also a war god (War of Bloodlust). often appears as a piglin or piglin hybrid. patron god of piglins. eros & cressida are their only children. was much more affectionate, but when cressida died they became cold and antisocial. by the time c!ranboo was born, they were like. warming up again. c!techno is their champion (person chosen to do their bidding and they have special gifts and stuff). they have a very strong grudge against hysteria.

HYSTERIA: he/him. the god of the mind, emotions, and sanity. patron god of humanity & the arts. the third (and final*) war god (War of Power). lives in the overworld. a slut. has tons of children that he does not keep track of or take care of. also an ancient god. a shapeshifter. again, by the time c!ranboo was born, he was getting a bit better about the whole "caring for other people thing". has a very strong rivalry with the blood god.

^these guys exist throughout the story!!! they interact with both cressida & obereon and erebus & eros (though not much)

[processedinparallel]

Prologue - The Flesh Demands Its Own Truths

this is the working prologue to my story. i really appreciate stories that have some sort of commentary on the human experience, and so i decided to try my hand at something like it. any feedback is appreciated! i will be posting this story on royalroad.com

Ohhh, yes, yes, you wish to learn about humans, do you? Why, you've just inquired about my favorite tragedy! Sit, sit, let me tell you about humanity's adversities.

A tragedy, yes… They're twice cursed, you see? Born with the capacity to love, and born with the capacity to hate. And therein lies their misfortune, for humanity loves to hate! Humans love… conflict. They crave it. And without fail, generation upon generation, they manage to find it.

Come! Look deep into the heart of the Tritor Forest, and there you will find Elurius. Carved out of the ancient trees surrounding it, the first people to settle there fought old horrors and fended off the closest Dungeons out of sheer stubbornness. They could've retreated to the coast and lived off the sea, but no! The founders of the town tore up the twisted roots of the forest and used them for the first walls. Spears were thrown and spells were cast in defense of the land they claimed as their home. They wanted to fight for a place to live! Their pride demanded it! And proud does the town still stand, built upon the bodies of thousands. Oh, how they weep for their fallen, as if they themselves did not send their men to die!

Look north to the lush plains that stretch from horizon to horizon. See how the soil is stained crimson from the blood of countless battles. See how it's dyed a richer hue as you edge closer to Gelya, a place trespassing monsters have learned to fear. The gentle rolling hills surrounding the town are filled with traps and tripwires! Flowers, birds, and bees watch every move! Men armed with magic and bows line the tall walls of the town, bastions against anything that dares approach. See, humans fought for their place here as well, and here they remain firmly entrenched. They will not be routed out.

Most of all, look to the realm as a whole!

A plethora of creatures lie deformed and corrupted beyond their nature. Swathes of land have been turned barren and others grow without bound. Countless kingdoms razed to mere ruins, their histories long forgotten.

The whole continent has mutated beyond recognition! Broken by spellcasters with too much magic at their disposal, remade by nature's insistence on enduring everything thrown at it. At the expense of the land itself, ancient Archmages and Archwizards fought until nothing was left but the echoes of their self-importance.

Once a thriving home to tens of millions of people, our continent of Aqeron now has less than a hundred thousand human souls.

And it's all due to some petty squabbles, human avarice, and the untimely intercession of the Divine.

Ah, but it's no matter!

Their desire for conflict, it seems, is inexplicably linked to their essence. To fight is to be human. They will pick a struggle against a rock if it means they get their fix! Even in the moments of peace, even during the peak of a kingdom's prosperity, humans will stoop so low as to bicker over things like who gets more bread. And even those who refuse to fight, those who refuse to do violence, fail miserably, for they crusade against their very nature. They lack the means to be rid of their curses.

Now you see their paradoxical nature laid before you. What pushes humanity forward if not competition? What tears down the tallest castles if not the unrest of the masses? They will love someone to the point of hating others. They will hate so much that love becomes but a memory for them. But in equal parts?

In the soul of a human who possesses strong feelings of both "love" and "hate" lies a chaos. A "conflict", some might say! Even if their tumultuous soul manages to die down, they get no rest, as the chaos takes root in their bones instead. Born from the conflict between the "love" and "hate" of a human soul arises the need for conflict in the body. A tragedy indeed! Humanity shall simply never escape their curses, even in death!

Gaze upon the damned! Behold their eternal struggle! Can't you grasp their agony?!

Even if the soul is satisfied, their flesh demands its own truths!

[minici]

hey I saw your tags on the airy vs grounded worldbuilding post, and I'm just here as a big fan of both sci fi and fantasy to say: screw the haters, write the story you want to tell, your story will ALWAYS be better if you lavish attention on the bits you find interesting and put just enough work into the rest of it that it's a solid scaffolding for the true heart of the story. star trek is a bastion of sci fi and it is FAMED for its technobabble! you can do that too!

that very post is dragging grrm through the mud NOT for failing to write proper grounded worldbuilding, but rather for being dishonest about what he was doing. he's really good at political machinations, fascinating character dynamics, and playing with genre tropes; he doesn't need to be any good at calculating army logistics, he can just make that up. his failing isn't in making stuff up, it's in constantly drawing our attention to stuff that doesn't hold water and saying, "look how good this is at holding water!"

also, one of the major joys of setting things in the space future and/or just some made-up solar system is that you don't have to worry about realism any more than you want to. how does the spaceship engine run? magic rocks from the moon, don't worry about it. it's not your job to completely flesh out every detail of your world, it's your job to explain exactly as much as the reader needs to know to understand the nuances of your plot. everything else is unnecessary. just signpost in your writing which bits are important for the reader to focus on, and let the rest be lightly sketched out.

it's your story! write the bits that are most interesting to you (and most important to your plot), be consistent and thorough in those things, and the story will be strong enough to withstand any amount of weak worldbuilding in other areas. all worldbuilding is at least somewhat handwavey anyway; your worldbuilding will be stronger, not weaker, if you know when to say "this part just works because I said so" instead of trying to prop it up with flimsy scaffolding. besides, if the heart of the story is compelling enough, readers can overlook anything up to and including complete retcons. focus on the bits that matter for the story and leave the rest to the readers' imaginations.

Okay you've got me all fired up now! I need to forget the haters and do my nice, airy light scifi that's heavy on the concepts and characters and light on the actual science. I've got a whole crew fleshed out after all, and people like the bisexual space pirates.

"If the heart of the story is compelling enough" very true, I can and have overlooked all kinds of things if I loved the characters, themes, and aesthetic of something. I have, for instance, had people tell me repeatedly they love the dialogue and flow of my story so much they kindly overlooked my lack of descriptions of certain moments.

@aethersea thanks :D

[angelfirstclass]

X-men 97: My favorite version of the X-men so far

X-men 97 is one of the best Marvel cartoons of all time and certainly my favorite version of a X-men project ever. That is saying a lot since there is the Animated Series, all the movies, X Men Evolution, Wolverine and the X-men and etc., but I stand by it. It is a deep, well written show that speaks to complex, real world issues of racism, gender politics, apartheid and genocide, and etc.

The storyline was rushed, but well written and interesting and the characters were captivating and fleshed out. I enjoy reading the comics, but for someone who likes to see and hear characters I love cartoons and live action movies. They make it seem more real for me. Hearing an accent or seeing an outfit or fight scene in real time makes things more real for me.

Firstly, the story was about mostly adults and not just about the Mansion as a school. When the focus is on the Institute as a school, it makes things juvenile and centered on teenage mutants and their problems. This might appeal to younger audiences, but I'm 37 so it doesn't for me and I also think adult issues are more interesting in general. In X-men 97, there are young people in the show like Roberto and Jubilee, but they aren't the main focus. This show hit hard immediately dealing with hate groups, race wars, and racial unrest. There was no pussyfooting around with high school problems and teen angst.

The problems that the X-men are dealing with are real and serious. Immediately, we see a hate group out to get mutants with sentinel technology. Even if you are unfamiliar with the comics or TAS you know that's bad and reminiscent of hate groups in the real world. Even the first time time you "see" Magneto, it's a simulation, but it's serious and speaking of being nature's favored children and of mutant-human coexistence which is what the show is all about. That topic alone is a big, complex heady one and that's why I love X-men 97. It pulls no punches, it starts off with big stakes for its characters and holds to that standard until the end.

Secondly, the characters are well written and funny. I read somewhere that the humor in X-men 97 is character driven and I agree. Morph is hilarious and it's not just self referential humor, but one based on knowing personality traits and etc. Teasing Scott will never not get old and Gambit throws in some good one liners. Also, Beast and his nerdiness is hilarious! The writers know how to balance humor with the dark or serious topics they write about without crossing a line or becoming corny.

Thirdly, the storyline is compelling and relatable. My only complaint being that the story was rushed a bit and I wanted more episodes instead of less, the story arc was very interesting. I loved Magneto's storyline of trying to redeem himself, the love triangle between Magneto-Rogue-Gambit, the Jean/Scott/Nathan/Madelyn storyline, Gambit's death, Genosha, and Bastion were all very fascinating. The whole series was tied up by explaining that Bastion was working with all the bad guys the whole time trying to undermine and disable mutants. Even knowing that the finale was three parts, I was left shocked and confused and surprised at what happened in them.

Finally, I love the complex and gray way that the writers handled topics and the very concept of right and wrong. I was very confused and conflicted at points of this show, but looking back I think that was very healthy for me. Life is often complex and gray and this series made me think a lot about oppression, human nature, revenge, and redemption. It often brought up more questions than answers, but I think that's ok too.

In conclusion, I loved X-men 97 and think it was a fantastically written show and will stand the test of time for well written cartoon series. It's up there with Batman TAS and Transformers. It made me think, feel, cry, and laugh and at the end of the day it was a cartoon about mutants. I never thought it would be this good when I heard about it, but it was, it really was.

[kaponos]

Unconnected series of thoughts on the final SotO patch

Story was ass. We just walk into the demon king’s castle and kill him and then the patch is over. I’ve been over SotO’s story for a while so it didn’t bother me as much. A few of my many reasons why:

The wizards infuriated me from the get go, super powerful group of cool guys we didn’t know about because “oooo it’s a secret society” except they also have a giant standing army made up of every race in the world. I don’t care how cool and magical you are, that’s not something you can hide. Isgarren is fine though I like him being a dickhead who only cares for a nebulous ‘greater good’ and not the lives of lesser people who he could help but chooses not to. Shame he’s barely in any story.

humanizing demons and trying to make them sympathetic is a mistake to even attempt- I don’t want a creature molded of flesh and horns and sin to say stuff like “oh nooooo I swoooo scawdddd :((( save me big stwong wayfindew!” that fucking sucks, I want demons to be scary and threatening. Cerus was threatening, Deimos was threatening, everything else is Nayos is just a reskinned human.

Way way too much effort to tie this story that came out of actual nowhere to previous stuff even when it damages those old stories and doesn’t respect established lore. Retconning Deimos and Kanaxi to be kryptis when they super aren’t? Awful. Retconning the bastion of the penitent from being a mursaat construction and prison to being a wizard bastion that the mursaat just started squatting in? Unforgivable. Don’t get me started on the fractals becoming real thing, I will flip.

Anyway, Zakiros is extremely cool and very well done, some of my favourite parts are the area around the magic collectors, it really makes you feel how super high in the air you are and along with the thorns around the collectors reminds me of the bramble levels from donkey kong country (high praise.)

The interiors of the castle are really gory and dark and they’re cool to fight through, and the boss rooms right before Eparch are especially well decorated- it all feels like a survival horror. If the story was better I could see these aesthetics as being really oppressive and scary.

Out of the 3 fights with Eparch we got this patch I only like one of them, the open world version.

It’s an insanely chaotic fight and the devs don’t do a great job of explaining anything, but once I figured it out the mechanics I began to really appreciate the encounter design. The emotion buffs are the most important part of the fight and they’re all pretty interesting, with upsides and downsides that you need to match with your build and your role in the squad (power builds take rage or gluttony, condis take envy, healers can take sorrow, everyone takes malice when there’s a breakbar.)

The hp is tuned pretty perfectly, I did a slightly organized squad run of it tonight and we won with 30 seconds remaining, so an actually organized group will have plenty of time to secure the kill.

Eparch’s meta model is proper freaky and way better than his other one that is used everywhere else, that one just looks like a generic dude while this one is like if patches from bloodborne had flesh eating bacteria.

What else did I like…

Oh. Peitha continued to be fun, I love her weird way of talking. Her voice actress did a great job. Also she has a really funny exchange with Eparch during the meta.

E: “I am the kryptis! Nayos begins and ends with me!”

P: “And that’s why you let her die!” L + ratio + dead wife

That’s it. Good riddance SotO.

I hope the next expac is better, I would pay double the price for the next expac if it meant it was guaranteed to be twice the quality.

[maifrenthebesto]

There comes a moment when the chasm of the heart is so vast that it is easier to plunge into the darkness of the void that lays between each end of the fault than to dare approach the light.

A time when one's own self admonishment is so undeniable, continuously straying further and further away to the point where redemption becomes a long-gone alternative. An embrace of the motives and ways which expanded the ravine ends up being the only clear path left. Distance feels like the next step within logic, it constantly drove the experiencer to the fork from which they see their folly expanding.

Such despair, to find yourself digging further down in an attempt to escape the unknown, and an even worse fate to dig as a bastion from the light which you cannot even fathom anymore. A path carved as a form of escape due to an avoidance of redemption, once it is internally perceived to be out of reach, or it's implications make it less desirable than the plunge into the abyss. There are paths better left behind, and we each choose the red shift or the blue shift to mark our direction.

This is not like the matrix pills though. But it also kinda is in the sense that there is a choice, but not in function.

It is difficult to distinguish what is good and bad for each of us individually, especially with evil being committed in the name of good, and kindness presented in the name of malice.

A path taken is a line acknowledged, with its destination irrevocably linked to the pilgrim's journey. Redemption through overflow still carries the overflow, just as salvation through inaction carries the inaction.

But if flesh feels good why not indulge? My brothers in consciousness, the flesh was made to be enjoyed, just as the soul was. You must eat from both plates together for the experience to be meaningful.

The body wakes up before the soul, and that is true at a foundation level of institutions which sought to police the human experience. They forgot the why and carried along with a half truth, so forgive them if you can, for their hearts were in the right place at one point.

Where do I get off talking like I know better than the people whose actions are reflected in this scripture? How dare I generalize the intricacies of human decision making processes into a theater of the mind? I should be ashamed of the vibrant picture I'm creating in the minds of those who resonate with the messages within! If only I hadn't written anything, you lurkers could continue to thread the path you were on without a second thought, but nooo, I had to appeal to your morality, and now your sense of purpose feels ambiguous and negatively charged! If only there was an inconsistency to latch on to to invalidate all the emotions this is making you feel...

Try not giving a fuck! Ah but I told you to do that!! Dang it.

What about (insert date of log entry)! That message did not appeal to your personal experience, so therefore it must be devoid of meaning, and if so, then so is this!

Hahaha how is unsolicited self help real haha just close your eyes hahaha

A constant state of anxiety, expecting retribution from actions untold to people unknown. I do despise the idea that treatment for this problem is to have the lock pick itself open.

No one needs to see, no one needs to know, but it will be evident, and it will be true when you surpass yourself.

Everyone will know up to that day.

These esoteric writings are HEAT, do not get burned by the flames. Please.

There's something in here for that, I'm sure. If you care to treat your self immolation.

[silkykuut]

I saw it, laid amongst the chains,

Chains that stretched like webs across the open cavern,

Its features illuminated by the red sky,

A dark cloud bounded to the earth.

The tent reminded me that of a circus,

The wooden planks spoiled this image

Of childhood dreams and thrills,

Now appearing as a means of confinement

To whatever beast laid dormant within such a shell.

I could see what appeared to be cannons,

Barrels rested against the edge of each window

As if it were a small bastion.

I walked closer, further inspecting one of the guns,

The ends were molds of humans head,

It felt so real, as if their jaws were torn open

To erupt the flames that would litter the fields,

It felt as if they were real heads painted over with metal.

Each face felt as if they were screaming,

Screaming in anger,

Screaming in grief,

Screaming in desperation,

I knew there were no noises but my mind couldn't help it,

My mind kept playing them out as if they were real, 

Their cries echoing throughout my consciousness.

It saw me

I snapped back upon hearing the rattling of the chains,

It was struggling, tugging on its binds as it glared at me,

I could see its eyes behind its wooden shell, 

All it could see was red.

No noises came from the beast, only the sounds of its struggling

Echoed throughout the room over and over again, 

I couldn’t tell if it was panicking, in some bloodlust, or pleading for me,

I couldn’t help but watch as it continued to struggle.

I was taken a back as I witnessed the arms of the beast erupt

From beneath its shell, a dozen, long, charred arms would reach out,

At first grasping at the air, as if in a blind rage,

Eventually grabbing a hold on the chains 

Where it began to pull and twist on the binds.

I could hear one of the loud snap followed by 

The sound of chains rattling against each other roared across the room

As the beast began to fall, it would be forced against a chain,

Grinding against its body, tearing off pieces of its shell.

Bit by bit, its fleshy interior was exposed,

Black veins and many red soaked eyes littered its body,

I made eye contact with it, I could see myself in its eyes.

The chain continued to tear at its body as it fell, 

A trail of blood and loose flesh covered the metal as it screamed, 

Looking into its eyes, I could see it wanted to scream, I could feel it,

I believed I could hear it, a twisted imagination trying to make up

What the beast would sound like.

Its decent would come to a swift halt, being caught by a web of chains,

Still beyond reach of the ground

I could see its blood, not from the wounds to was dealt

But its eyes, tears rolled down like streams as it screamed at me

Screaming in anger,

Screaming in grief,

Screaming in desperation,

Its hopeless tugging on the chains that bound it to the earth,

All I could think of now was to run, its silent cries roaring 

Through the tunnels, till I once again found myself in the light.

[originemesis]

@cast-you-dxwn from xxx

If there was anything about Adam that was difficult to damage, it was his ego. Not thirty seconds out from being pinned beneath him and already slapping away his hand, his help, and his advice. “I’m not asking for perfection, Adam.” He exhales heavily through his nose as the First Man puffs up. He didn’t understand why this was so difficult, why it was always a massive tug-of-war trying to get the Commander of the Exorcists to do anything. Lute was of no help, despite her competence she was utterly loyal to Adam, what would normally be a commendable trait turned to an irritation. “It isn’t difficult to at least not leave your weaponry in Hell. What happens when some enterprising Sinner gets lucky, when one of your girls is wounded? God forbid, if one of them is killed?” At this, Michaels lip curls, the Archangel seeming to finally descend into irritation with Adam. Perhaps it’s partially from the uncalled-for comparison to Lucifer, something that normally would call for a sharp glare and some punitive measure, but the commanders laissez-faire attitude toward his soldiers immortal mortality was edging perilously close to infuriating. “What then, Adam? Will you look at yourself, look at these soldiers under your command and say ‘Ah, it’s okay. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’?”

If anything, his ego was far from intact. It was the more shredded aspect of his being, but simply held together and into place very much like the soft and sickly pale visage of humanity locked into an exoskeleton rarely shed for want of it to be his own flesh- a bastion to bear the burden of mankind.

An eye roll accompanied the seraphim's irate snort. "Yeah huh. Absolutely not looking for shit to be perfect in heaven- do you hear yourself right now?" Just the notion that the backbone (and subsequent vertebrae in lieu of the Exorcists-) of heaven's very foundational safety was not expected to remain a permanent 180 degrees was laughable at best. Of course dude wanted perfection- Adam thought within the added plush against judgement added via the puffed feathers- he just knew that was too much to ask a being like him. Created perfect- knew just what it entailed, if only briefly, yet remained utterly unable to replicate it despite the fact. He was always going to be a handicap to this position, and Michael fucking knew it. It was why he wasn't going to let him peck at him with the 'if you only worked harder' shit because he knew it wouldn't be enough to reach whatever vision the seraphim had for a project he couldn't have possibly wanted for himself the way he'd thrust it upon the first mortal-made soul.

And when the other's concerns finally revealed themselves, it was the commander's turn to scoff at the implications, elbow coming to rest in an open talon while the other flexed idly about. "Yeah, 'cause my concern should definitely be playing janitor than getting my girls home after a long day of destroying demon ass? As if." Another thoughtless flick of the wrist had him running a thumb along talon tips. "Plus it's not like angelic weapons do a demonic wielder any good, right? If anything, I'm leaving more shit for them to trip on and slay themselves once we're outtie."

He can't say the thought the other proposes doesn't strike a chord, but he's fairly sure Michael's only desire when striking it is to get under his skin. His eyes narrow to surly slits through the visor's display. What then? "Whatever, Doomsdayer. Never gonna fuckin' happen." A heavy slam of his wings senda a torrent of wind forward in an unspoken (though perhaps a degree more dramatic than need be) salute as he returns them less puffy to his flank. "That all, 'sir'?" He grumbles, his tone a shade of 'mmk can I go now?' "...'cause chickadees are due for their preen puddle and I really can't keep rescheduling like this ~ "