#undead dragons are hot okay

[draconic-lesbian]

So do undead dragons have decaying dicks? No dicks? Sans undertale style blue-glowy magic dick? Bone strapon? I’m sure I’m thinking about this a normal amount

[scourgeblooms]

wanted to do a physical timeline for my commander and highlight how he’s changed through the years. this is mostly for my own entertainment BUT I do enjoy seeing the same thing from other folks so I’m posting it here in the hopes that other people share my sentiment. 

(I was ALSO totally inspired by @/manasurge’s hair timeline. it kicks ass. go look at it.) 

elaboration/rambling below the cut!

Personal Story, LW1-2: Popped out of the pod blunt, solicitous, and already maybe a little too paranoid for someone who was born yesterday, but all those traits made him uniquely qualified for a position in military leadership.  Healthy and floral, soft aspen-bark-like skin, delicate petals. black anthers produce pollen. undergoes more fashion changes than physical transformations during this time. gets a little banged up here and there (and maybe has some lasting respiratory effects from the toxic alliance era) but overall feelin a-okay. 

Heart of Thorns: it’s all gone to shit. took a spectacular headdive in both a physical and mental sense with breakneck speed. never “officially” answered mordremoth’s call, but anyone who spent time around him would notice a distinct lack of self control and logical thinking. took on a more sickly pallor, stress caused leaves to shrivel, rot, and decay. lost his lil flower top notch and ability to produce pollen. pupils narrowed to take on a more animalistic look, and enamel growth resulted in sharper, larger teeth. fingers also elongated into claws. never fully physically and mentally recovered from the hell jungle. 

LW3: chopped off most of his leaves to encourage fresh growth. lots of physical healing during this time, though it takes quite a while for his complexion to fully recover. takes on the role of aurene’s champion with gusto. relatively unaffected by bloodstone, but feels the effects of mordremoth’s loose/uncontrolled magic deeply. continues to hear mordremoth’s “voice” and is diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. 

Path of Fire: still healing from HoT. continues to grow out his leaves. glow returns, as well as some of his eye color. likes the crystal desert, but finds the harsh, dry climate to be particularly challenging; he’s definitely more of a ‘temperate’ sylvari. does not handle dying well. death only adds to his paranoia and psychosis. has an increasingly hard time picking apart what is real and what is…. not. 

LW4: let’s get ready to kill an undead lich!!!! absorbs even more magic after the death of joko and kralkatorrik, and it starts to show in a there-and-gone shimmery aura that takes on a similar appearance to ley lines. starts to suffer from migraine auras. flower top notch grows back, but stays closed and dormant. picks up a few nifty necromancy tricks from the elonians, and the tips of his fingers start to show signs of necrotic decay; all that death magic can’t be good for the complexion, can it? 

Icebrood Saga: having another dragon in his head does not help his mental health in the slightest. braided leaves (courtesy of braham <3) to protect against frostbite. his ley “aura” gets more intense, hard to miss, and is a near constant. flower topnotch remains closed due to the cold weather conditions. after being shot by bangar, his wound is covered/healed by aurene’s brand. migraines increase in frequency, makes it difficult for him to focus. a bone deep exhaustion starts to set in, and more often than not, he catches himself thinking that a nice long nap underneath a blanket of snow doesn’t sound so terrible….

End of Dragons: back in a more agreeable climate, his topnotch finally blooms, but does not grow anthers or produce pollen. easily physically corrupted by void magic, and he feels soo-won’s pain and struggle deeply. the void corruption eventually shows up in the form of darkening leaves, and seeping out of his eyes/tearducts (it’s fine. don’t worry about it.). starts to incorporate chaos magic into his own necromancy practices. has a fucking terrible time in gyala delve. has a fucking terrible time saying goodbye to aurene. 

Secrets of the Obscure: nothing feels entirely real to him anymore. still willing to help, to fight, but it’s done on autopilot at this point. this magical, floating palace in the sky looks and feels like a dream, with the kryptis acting as the encroaching, inevitable turn to a real, living nightmare. still uses a bit of leftover void in his magical practices, but most of the corruption has left his system. that respiratory illness he picked up back in kessex hills comes back to bite him in nayos. finally grows back his anthers, but instead of producing pollen, it's an outlet for void/magic energy.

[theresattrpgforthat]

hello! i was wondering if theres any ttrpgs set in/inspired by Terry Pratchett's Discworld? thanks :)

THEME: Discworld

I love the Discworld books and I'm very glad you asked this question. I have three resources for you!

A One In A Million Chance At Adventure, by Jocher Symbolic Systems.

This is a game where you play the roles of, often unwilling, sometimes zealous, pawns in the cosmic octarine coloured narrative. Your character is not necessarily a "hero" per se, instead one could possibly see it as being important to the story. Characters like yourself do have a knack for not dying as often as a common mortal (or undead if that has been your unfortune).

With this follows that you'll naturally have a higher chance of actually, possibly, doing some heroic deeds, just by sheer mathematical logic. Unless, of course, you are the type of adventurer who'd prefer a cup of hot tea and soft slippers and a reliable day job.

That does severely reduce the odds of let's say beheading a mythical beast of ill repute or befriending the immodest wood nymphs of Howondaland*.

*if your day job happens to be for example a tax collector this is not true, this and similar careers have shown to increase the risk of leaving the disc rather early.  ** only rumoured, no one who has gone looking for them has ever returned.

This is a free, fan-made d10-based game written in the style of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels, footnotes and all. The characters you build are expected to be flawed in some way - they have vices that can cause problems for them and plenty of skills (or spells) to help them get out of trouble.

A One in A Million Chance At Adventure has plenty of supplements to support the game, including an introductory adventure: The Murder of Dominick Kolchak, and a character supplement: The A-M Professions Character Build Guides.

Discworld Roleplaying Game, by Steve Jackson Games.

There's a lot of unusual stuff on the Disc, but don't worry about getting lost – game author Phil Masters has crafted a roadmap to Pratchett-inspired storytelling.

Visit settings like the most dubious city in the multiverse, Ankh-Morpork. Intervene in the cultural interactions of trolls and dwarves (but watch out for flying axes). Campaign for goblin rights. Flee from an angry Swamp Dragon (two feet of mindless fury and high-explosive digestion). Even find out why the second-greatest lover on the Disc needs a stepladder.

And remember, the world is round. And also flat.

This is the official roleplaying game published by Steve Jackson Games, the creators of Munchkin and GURPS - which means that this game also uses the GURPS system. Characters are pretty in-depth and require some time to put together - and that means the the core rulebook is a pretty hefty read. If you like big games with heavy modularity and a lot to chew on, maybe this game is for you!

If you want to try the game out and need a little help, there’s a GURPS Character sheet app available to help you put characters together, and Chris Normand is an avid enthusiast with many videos providing advice on how to get a grip on the system.

The Kleptomancer’s Crypt, by Max Kāmmerer.

The Kleptomancer’s Crypt is an adventure for Troika!, but is easily adapted to other systems. It mostly consists of tables to help you generate a variable adventure. Improvisation and interpretation by the GM required. 

A client hired you to break into the Kleptomancer’s Crypt and so you did. Now you need to get out of the place. The Kleptomancer is a government official tasked with redistributing the wealth by stealing from the rich and keeping what they stole for themselves. Okay, that last part isn’t in the official job description. The Crypt is filled with all kinds of strange things and rooms and people, really. You might for example encounter pipe smoking sloths, boardgame playing plants, ever expanding spheres or the Kleptomancer’s apprentice. The place is dangerous, so you prepared by cutting a deal with death, preventing you from dying while you are in the Crypt.

To be clear, this is not a full game. It is simply an adventure for one.

The eclectic tone of Troika fits Discworld so well that I’m not at all surprised that there is an adventure made for it. If you have experience with Troika, or even with other OSR games, you might want to check this one out.

[bracedfangirl]

Awakening

Apparently I hit 100 followers without noticing, so here's more for that Lloyd dies AU, without explanation or context, set about three months after the fic Fatal Mistake. This AU is so huge, with so much lore and chaos that unfortunately I can't write a proper cohesive fic for it, so y'all have to settle with snippets and one drawing every thousand years... With so many apologies I shall tag @lloydskywalkers because... It's Lloyd angst and I wrote this after rereading exposure therapy and you liked the previous installment of my Lloyd murdering AU-

Also summoning some mutuals: @goldenavenger02 @fishybehavior @thesoundofmadness

Lloyd awakes with a sharp, strangled wheeze, turning to his side to cough with a jerk.

'Wait wha-'

His vision finally clears, letting him take in his surroundings, and deduce that something is definitely not right-

Searing hot pain erupting through his torso, blood- so much blood all coming from him and then it's cold and he can't breathe-

It's stupid... So stupid because he knows he died. That's something you can't just... Miss or-or forget. He definitely didn't forget that, so why has thinking of it given him this much whiplash-

'Figure out what's going on first, idiot!' he reminds himself, looking around with a lot more effort now. Yeah he's definitely not where he last remembers being, and not where he remembers dying either, this is the Temple of Light which can only mean-

Brought back to life. He got brought back to life.

Okay something about that doesn't feel... Entirely right but he's not gonna think about that for now. He's here and that's what's important, cause the others are probably-

There's nobody in the temple with him.

It's just him, and some soot on the ground nearby, probably from whatever fucked up magic was used. Everything is suddenly too quiet, and it takes an awful lot of effort to not give in to the panic...

Whoever just... Ressurrected him (that doesn't feel right either-) it definitely wasn't his family. If it were them, they would've all stayed and watched, and would probably be crowding him with teary eyes and calling him stupid. No, this is someone else's doing, and they didn't even bother to stay long enough to tell him why, great.

He slowly and shakily stands up, taking careful steps to look around some more... Hopefully whoever wanted him around again left something for him, otherwise he's kinda stuck here. He does not trust his ability to summon his dragon right now, much less fly over the ocean with it-

Something light, but firm hits against his chest, guiding his gaze down-

Oh. It's just his medallion... He knew it can be worn as a necklace it just... Never suited his taste, he prefers it attatched more like a badge. He reaches for the chain's lock on the back of his neck, holding his other hand out to catch the intricate dragon head-

The moment the chain comes loose the slight wrong feeling in the back of his mind skyrockets, radiating out into every fiber of his being, sending him into panic.

There's an uncomfortable shift deep in his torso, an odd numbness spreading from his middle to everywhere else-

He tries to take breath to calm himself, but all he gets is this awful, rasping noise rattling through his throat and chest.

He can't feel half of his face, his toes, FSM he can't feel half his fingers either, what the hell is wrong with him all the sudden-

He stumbles out of the temple gates, into the morning light, and can finally take a look at his hands-

Lloyd's world grinds to a halt at the sight.

The fingers he can't feel are nothing but bone, the others partly covered by slimy looking, browned flesh. The green edge of his silk robe is nearly black where it runs along his middle, caved in and grossly sticking to his body-

This used to be among his worst nightmares... He's become a zombie. Undead. That's why he didn't feel right, that's why whoever did this didn't stick around. He hasn't been ressurrected, just summoned back into his gross, decaying corpse, how is he supposed to go home like this-

He supposes he has the whole way home to figure that one out, doesn't he?

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #169

Today I played more Elden Ring. A few of my friends popped by to say hello as I toodled around while being a total derpasaurus rex on a lovely horned horse named Torrent. Torrent is wonderful; I don't know how or why he puts up with my clumsy ass, hahaha! But I do like to feed him lots of treats when I can, so maybe that's a little something.

There was a dragon terrorizing a place called Agheel lake; it made it really hard to get around. With Torrent's help, I was able to make it so that there is no longer a dragon terrorizing the lake. I also temporarily removed some bullies who were blocking off a bunch of roads for unknown reasons. Of course, the bullies come back to life anytime I rest. But still, a moment's peace is a moment's peace.

Really, I'd just like to explore this world unhindered with Torrent. I'd like to listen to the stories of the people who wander around. I meet a few friendly faces, but… most everything in this world wants to kill me, and I think that's kinda sad because it's such a beautiful world with very dramatic geography and lots of interesting creatures to observe!

I wonder if you'd like looking at this world. There was a place called Stormhill and you know what? I bet it would be an AMAZING place to fly a kite, if my character could have a kite. But there are no kites. Instead, there was this big machine called a Golem that came out of the ground, and it tried to kill me with its giant axe, and that was very inconvenient, so I broke the machine until it stopped moving. Hopefully the road will be a little safer for other travelers; having a giant hostile machine pop out of the ground like that was very surprising!

There was another giant, hostile machine that was shooting big ol' arrows at me as I tried riding along some road. So I broke that machine, too. What kind of person builds giant, hostile machines and then leaves them unattended, anyway? It seems very irresponsible! Also in this world, there are all these folks who think that nobody gets to use the section of road they're on except for them, and I don't think that's very nice at all. I try to put a stop to that nonsense in the only way this game lets me; no one can be reasoned with, it seems.

…I do try to avoid fighting when I can, though. There are these guys called Wandering Nobles, and the unarmed ones don't try to kill me, but they do seem terrified of me for some reason. I usually leave them be; I think they're undead, so they're clumsy, slow, very uncoordinated, and not especially bright. But sometimes, they get ahold of a torch or a sword or some magic spell that they can derpily swing around, and then they think they're some Hot Shit™, and when they get like that, they won't leave me alone.

I would like to say to them, "Guy… my dude. C'mon. Please just chill. Please stop swinging around the sharp pointy thing - you're gonna hurt yourself. Seriously bruh, I just got rid of that very murdery dragon over there, and I promise that you are not stronger than a dragon; can't we just be cool? Let's just be cool, okay?" But I can't say that, and so they do not chill, they do not stop swinging the sharp pointy thing, they continue to be VERY not cool, and they will chase me if I try to run, which is counterproductive, so all I can do from there is "axe" them very politely to stop.

I think I might stop playing this game, though. There are a few unsavory aspects of this game that I had forgotten about. One of them is the situation at a place called Castle Morne. The context and story is complicated, but the short version is that there are living things called "Misbegotten". I hate that they're called this, so I will call them "Crucible-Touched" instead. The "Crucible-Touched" come from something called "The Crucible", and that is, essentially, a "primordial form of the Erdtree". I have no idea what that means, other than the "primordial form" still having something called a "Death Rune", I guess. The "Erdtree" is, essentially, the "Crucible", but with the "death" part of the life cycle removed. Though my interpretation might not be exactly right; the lore is a little hard to understand, admittedly, and lots of it is left intentionally vague, and there are mistranslations. Weird things sometimes happens when you try to translate old-timey Japanese into old-timey English.

Here is what the "Crucible-Touched" look like:

The lighting in this picture I found on the internet is weird, but don't let it fool you! As you can see, they have it all! They have wings to fly with, claws to defend themselves with, nice big jaws to eat with (as someone with a small and misshapen jaw, I envy this a little...), efficient legs to walk, jump, and run with, good feet for even weight distribution, opposable thumbs to build and manipulate objects with, good, smart, sentient brains to learn stuff with, strong and agile muscles to enact their will, cute little chubby faces, and they're soft and fluffy with their feathers and fur!! Literally, what is there not to like??? I cannot find anything wrong with any of this!! If there is a flaw in this living thing, I don't know where it is!!

So the people of this world think of the "Erdtree" as a refined "Crucible", and they also think that anything that comes of the "Crucible" is inferior, tainted, impure, and reminiscent of devolution. These "Crucible-Touched" were once seen as divine, but that changed once the "Crucible" became the "Erdtree", and then all of a sudden they were seen as bad, rotten, filthy things, and subsequently treated like slaves and abused horribly. And it really sucks, because there is one guy who is "Crucible-Touched", and his name is Hewg, and he's absolutely delightful and brilliant and really good at what he does. It doesn't make sense to me that he gets treated as less than a person. It's not right. I don't like it.

So the "Crucible-Touched" at Castle Morne revolted. Tired of being enslaved, abused, degraded, and tortured day in and day out, they lashed back at their tormentors because their only other option was to try to go out on their own into a world that is a death trap. The end result of that is that they'll either be killed by something that hates them just because of how they were born, or they'll be hunted down by the people whose abuse they're trying to escape from. In my world, it is said that the first duty of a wrongly-imprisoned person is to escape. As such, slaves must escape bondage and abuse by whatever means that are available to them - that is the way of things. As such, I have absolutely no interest in fighting the "Crucible-Touched" - none whatsoever.

But I do have an interest in delivering a letter written by one of the escaped nobles of that castle, who I guess had no idea how horribly the "servants" were being treated. It's complicated. I want to deliver the letter, but the "Crucible-Touched", who I have no quarrel with, are hostile to me on sight, which is natural; goodness knows how many decades they have of being mistreated by humans, and they have no way of knowing that I mean them no harm. The letter is from a young woman named Irina to her father Edgar, who is the commander of the castle. Irina just wants Edgar to forget about the castle and go live peacefully with her somewhere else. But Edgar is going to want the sword that was stolen by the leader of the "Crucible-Touched" before he will leave to go be with his daughter.

…But… I have no interest in killing a justifiably angry living thing over some stupid sword. I'd much rather negotiate for the sword - the "Crucible-Touched" get to keep the castle in exchange for the sword and letting Edgar go be with his daughter. Seems like it should be a fairly simple exchange. Kinda like this:

"Hey there, Mr. Uprising Leader Dude. It's cool. I'm cool. We're cool. Everything's cool. I just wanna get that Edgar guy outta your hair; he and his ilk were total poop-waffles to you and to your brethren, and that sucks and I hate it and it never should have happened, and I'm sorry for all the suffering you've endured up until this point. Things in the world are all fucked up because of the Erdtree, and it's really unfair and you have every right to be upset; nobody should be making you suffer for the nature of your existence. But he ain't gonna leave until he's got that sword. So how about this - you gimme the sword so I can give it to him, and you get to have the castle and Edgar goes very far away and nobody bothers you or your kin ever again; you can turn this place into a safe haven for others who are Crucible-Touched, and if anyone tries to bother any of you here just for existing, then you just gimme a holler and I'll come a-runnin' to help fend off any ne'er-do-wells who are giving you problems. Deal?"

Unfortunately, this game does not allow for anything other than fighting. And… if you complete this questline, Irina ends up dying, and Edgar ends up going insane. So essentially, if I try to get the abusers away from the abused, bad things happen. It is better if I do nothing. But then if I do nothing, there is still suffering. And… I guess it just kinda… seems futile.

My "big bad power fantasy" is to be able to help everyone and to come up with peaceful solutions to things. I had forgotten in this game just how seldom it's possible to do either of those. Even if you do try to help in the ways that are made available to you as a player, it usually ends up in tragedy anyhow, and that's… really not a whole lot of fun for me.

I wanna fix it. It shouldn't have to be like this. The "Erdtree" gives "order" by oppressing a whole heck of a lot of different kinds of living (or unliving) things and by suppressing free will and perpetuating cycles of trauma, and it ain't right. But then, if you break the Erdtree, everything dissolves and there is no such thing as comfort or joy anymore…

…I think I'm all done with it. I'm gonna choose a different game, because this one is depressing, and the world I live in is already depressing enough as it is; my planet is already dying and there's tragedy and cruelty everywhere you look and there's absolutely fucking nothing I can do about any of it because I am just one insignificant voice in a sea of 8 billion voices, with not a lot of resources at my disposal, and living in a body that most people think is on the lower end of the "worth" spectrum. I am nothing and no one in this place, and my voice doesn't really count for anything.

...Given this, sometimes I wonder why I even bother to keep writing, because I can't imagine anything will come of it. But I'm going to keep at it anyway, because... what else is there that I can do? I can't do nothing. I have to try. I have to care...

Anyway, all of that is why it's necessary to keep looking for the sparks of joy and beauty in everything, no matter how small those sparks are, or else the sheer weight of the despair in this place will crush the life right out of you and extinguish the light in your eyes. In short: I don't need my temporary electronic escape from reality to thematically resemble real life; it kinda defeats the purpose, ya know? I want to be able to DO SOMETHING about the suffering around me, and if not even the make-pretend space will allow me to do that, then what's the freaking point??? If I wanted to feel helpless and unable to do good things, I can just read the damn news. At least then I don't also have to become increasingly skilled at very difficult make-pretend combat in order to chase that nihilistic feeling of futility.

Guess I'll end this one here. Maybe tomorrow I'll try to create something. I don't know how I manage to feel so busy and so idle at the exact same time, but here I am doing it anyway, and trying hard not to get too caught up in the guilt of it all. I know I'm overwhelmed, but it's hard to pinpoint why exactly. Hm.

Well anyway. Do stay safe out there, won't you? Please remember that you're a person no matter how you were made. Those "Misbegotten" are NOT misbegotten, and I hate that they're called that. And you're not misbegotten, either, okay? Please do your best to know that. Do everything in your power to understand that you are a good thing. Because… I am still here because of you, and I like to think sometimes like I am a good thing. On a good day, anyway, I can sometimes think I am a good thing.

I love you. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[thestalkerbunny]

"How did these dungeons get so big? They're called dungeons, does that imply they were originally castle keeps? why are there so many of them around here? Why was the rest of the castle ransacked thoroughly but the treasure all left? How do you guys eat? Do you just life hear?"

Random goblin: We will give your treasure if you shut the fuck up.

Okay but this allows me to corner you in my concepts of What a DUNGEON is-

A dungeon is a sort of perpetually expanding space and in itself is it's own type of BIOME. Consider.

Where are you going to store your extra magic items when you run out of room in the armory? Or ones that are broken and need repair? Or just don't WORK as good as they used to? The Guest Bathroom? No, IN THE BASEMENT/DUNGEON. With the Christmas Decorations.

Over time, magic seeps from these artifacts and imbues the surrounding closed off area (i.e. A basement/dungeon) with properties. Magic tends to attract creatures like Goblins. Goblins are the FIRST sign a dungeon is starting-they'll take up residence in a preestablished spot that is assured to be safe and they'll begin working on expanding it along with the magic that naturally expands it-so their families have room to grow as well as making rabbit warren like mazes to confuse intruders. Over time, the area grows bigger and bigger and more creatures begin to move in. Tentacle Beasts, Mimics, Displacers, etc. And then undead will start occuring as these predators begin to drag in dead bodies and leave the remains laying around. Then with outside elements now coming in like water, blood, miasma, etc.-Slimes begin to form. And Wowiee WOW! You got yourself a nice proper DUNGEON!

Some people take advantage of these places, like Liches, Irate Wizards pissed off with 'The MAN', rouge and mauraders looking to store their loot in an assured safe house or even Dragons seeking a place to put their fat asses for a hot minute. Sometimes a Dungeon being full of gold is just a result of Goblins collecting things and leaving what they don't want around. (Sure this Gold piece is worth more, but this COPPER PIECE is a 1459 MINT Queen Arthesiandra INVERSION so it's UPSIDE DOWN. Much much cooler.) or Liches/Wizards throwing their trash on the ground.

As The Dungeon becomes a Biome, it develops it's own flora to correspond with fauna; mostly mushrooms, plants that grow well in limited to no light, etc. etc. Lichen is a BIG part of dungeon dweller diets to the point of it being a part of agriculture. As well as unusually large blind insects that dwell down there (think Cave Crickets the size of CATS)

Dungeons are the most fascinating thing that could potentially exist because it can be ANYWHERE. Which is why Peasant NPC #98 is really concerned about the fact there are REALLY big rats in his Storage Cellar because that is possibly a DUNGEON IN PROGRESS cause he left his great Grandma's broken flying broom down there with the intent on fixing it one day.

[maguro13-2]

The Dark Picture ~ Origins of the Ink Demon : Operation Drawcia Pt.22 ~

*Back at Cryptic Castle*

Setsuna : Guys! You're finally here!

Mio : Kuchinashi!

Kuchinashi : You two!

Seto : So you guys are...Simeon Girls?

Setsuna : We're a trio, we used to be the bad girls of Needleds until the girl name Homura Akemi accidentally isekai'd us into the real world, oh wait. That was us on purpose during our glorious battles and goofy battles. Yeah, yeah, our world for erased, she's the Time Eater's relative alright. Hey, blonde girl with a sword, I've know you, you were the Grim Reaper's apprentice, and also the daughter of a powerful Shinigami. You're, uhh, Seto...Seto the Deathless, your father called you that.

Mio : Yeah, ever since you died, you were isekai'd out of Needleds and became a loving hero in both the real world and Sonic's world, a distant relation in the multiverse! After Setsuna and Kuchinashi were turned into undead ghouls, they had no choice but to Isekai into the real world. Now...if the world of Needless is gone, that means... it's no more, right?

Seto : Uhh, yeah. Hey, kid. You did your best on saving Kuchinashi and Setsuna, but since they've been isekai'd as modern day citizens, I decided that I am gonna treat you like a nice good girl. Here have a sweet.

Mio : Ooh! Cherry! My favorite! *Puts lolipop in mouth* This looks tasty. Okay, now I believe you. Come to think of it, ever since the world of Needless shattered, Drawcia created us as copies to the original ones that died or even ourselves that were isekai'd. Not much of it, Drawcia had the potential to bring everything or everyone to life.

Seto : Truly. *Takes lolipop out of mouth* I used to be really, really, a bad greedy girl. Heck all of the girls of Needless are bad, even men had some Seinen status as the shounen trop guys. Since we're all isekaid's into the same real world, I've become a normal and loving girl that is treated with care, I feel like that I was the little girl inside me. *Puts lolipop back in* Solva and I, we're once the bad girls of Needless with a nasty personality, but after that Isekai thing, we met the Reaper for the first time...and even my father, so we became nice good girls when under master's orders.

Mio : That's great news! Although, since we don't have powers, do you have the powers of a Death God.

Seto : Ah yes. The sword that my father gave it to me. Being a hero is always not easy, but it depends being of part of it or risking your life. That's why hero's work is a serious tough job.

Solva : So now that I don't have to be a bad girl, I'm always to be a girlboss and housewife girl type!

Setsuna : I see. Ha! Needless to say, they don't call us the heroes and villains of NEEDLESS World for nothing! Piece of cake.

Kuchinashi : Alright. Guys I get that this friendly conversation is my kind of hot cup of tea. But since this placed used to be part of Grim the Hedgehog's training days. How about we give ourselves a nice treat for saving my comrades? Ice cream sundaes for everyone.

All : Yeah!

??? : You little pests, did you really think that you would go off so easily?

Grim : What? Who is this?

??? : [With Cooler's Voice] I'm afraid that your deserts will have to wait.

[Big Arms Theme plays]

Seto : Hey, wait a sec. Didn't you die at Sky Sanctuary? And why does your voice sounded like this Cooler guy from Dragon Ball?

Grim : What? Not you! You were defeat at the hands of three heroes. And of course, you were the first robot to gain power of the emeralds! Mecha Sonic!

*DBZ Sfx : Surprise*

Seto : Mecha Sonic?! The Mecha Sonic!?

Mecha Sonic : Such a reunion to have a perfect body with you, Metal Sonic. You were encapsulated in the doctor's base at the Mystic Ruins.

Grim : How did you that I am in the body of Metal Sonic?

Mecha Sonic : You were our creator's greatest creation to eved top that blue rodent, but during the fight with Robotnik, Grim the hedgehog took your body and become the reaper of today. I see with the eyes guided by truth.

Grim : You just don't get it, do you. Grim the reaper died, so that is why possessed this body remember who I am.

Mecha Sonic : *chuckles* Same old Metal Sonic, if you're so interested of being the Grim Reaper. But in the meantime, I ain't no sky lord that rules the skies of the Skt Sanctuary, I was built there to be the distraction of Sonic getting in the way to the Death Egg before it was destroyed. But since I have returned from the dead to seek vengeance on that blue menace.

[Dictator by Sota Fujimori]

Seto : Yeah, what did you expect from us to deal with, some kind of present?

Mecha Sonic : Close, but take a look.

Seto : What?

*whoosh+boom*

Eggrobo : Oh, uhh, let's see where did I put that instructions...There we are! *Clears throat+laughs evilly* So, what goodie two shoes have decided to return this place.

Solva : You must be the machine sky sanctuary incident.

Seto : Another of the Mad Scientist's creations.

Eggrobo : DING, DING, DING, DING! Right the first time ladies and gentlemen! Eggrobo is my name! However, since you and those NEEDLESS girls have all made it to the center of this castle, I'll give you all nice quick death wish. Unveil my creator's creation, I give you...the Egg Breaker!

Solva : Hey, that mech he's controlling kind looks like...

*the Egg Breaker looks exactly like Egg Emperor*

Seto : Just as I thought, alright you're call!

Eggrobo : This should be interesting!

[Egg Breaker by Jun Senoue]

Eggrobo : Let's see you top this!

Seto : Alright, guys. Does your power works.

Kuchinashi : Of course, which is why I am always been prepared.

Seto : So I am guessing this machine packs quite a punch, but I'm going all ears.

Eggrobo : Hold still, so that I may crush you!

Seto : You know what I do when it comes people and spirit, let's have a normal distraction. [Outbursts] I'M SICK OF BEING HARASSED WITH ANNOYING STUFF FOR THE PAST SEVERAL YEARS! If I'm going to get through this...then I'm going to do something spectacular to take down this bad. Watch an learn.

*pulls out a rocket launcher*

Solva : Where did you get that RPG?

Seto : Military stuff, it happens when I have acquired to use all military equipment, battling monsters, ghouls, demons, and uh fairy tale creature. I made them myself.

Eggrobo : What's the matter cold feet? This is perfect timing to...Hey, hey, is that umm...IS THAT A MOFO RPG!?

Seto : Open wide.

*fires RPG*

Eggrobo : *pulls out sign : WHY ME?*

*DBZ SFX : Loud explosions*

Eggrobo : Curses! Foiled again! I'll get you next time! With my last breath, I hail thee Eggman Empire!

*METALLIC CRUSH+BOOM*

Eggrobo : AUUUUGH! MY SPIRIT!

Seto : Piece of cake.

Mio : Oh yeah, found the white emerald but turns out to be another counterfeit.

Seto : We gotta go find someone or somewhere around the world, if the Fourth Chaos Emeralds are counterfeits made by Tails, then the real fourth Chaos Emerald is located at...*gasps*

All : THE NAVAL STATION!

Seto : Then how can we find the real fourth emerald if it's at the Naval station?

Solva : Easy! Just flip this entire background!

*changes background to the Naval Station*

Seto : So this is the Naval Station...This is what's left from Prison Island, a G.U.N naval base. Prison Island was no more than a remote control facility of G.U.N.

Solva : Really? Where's the real G.U.N headquarters?

Seto : You know where the real Gun Headquarters, the real headquarters is G.U.N Fortress.

Solva : So that means Prison Island was just a front and was basically a death trap orchestrated by the mad scientist to lure Sonic into. That's how Sonic was framed by Shadow at San Francisco in the first place.

*DBZ : Booming+Rumbling*

Seto : Woah! What's happening!? Is it the Black Arms!?

Solva : No something's from outside! Let's go see and find out, shall we!

*cues Aparoid Blitz*

*DBZ SFX : Loud explosions*

General Pepper : Shoot me fox! Destroy this contraption of mine!

Fox : You want it? You asked for it, sir!

*SFX : Ki Blast+explosion*

Sonic : That is one tough general! Tails! Do you have it in range?

Tails : Almost...!

Tamaki : Shinra!

Shinra the Devil Chao : Tamaki! Can you hang on?

Tamaki : Yeah, I would be! But despite being like this fear, I decided that I guarantee you one thing about it! Do I have the potential to be hero again.

Shinra the Devil Chao : That's why I am! A hero that is going out in style! Here I come you gigantic space freak! Time to make this thing go thrash and out with the trash! Fire at will, Missiles lock-target! Take this!

*Fires missiles at the aparoid-controlled flagship*

*Explosions*

General Pepper : GAAAAAHHH!

Wolf : Now fox! He's all yours!

Fox : Got it! *Charges weapon* This is the end of the line, pepper!

*DBZ SFX : ENERGY Shot+explosion*

General Pepper : GWAAAAAAHHH!!!!

Peppy : General! (He then saves the General)

General Pepper : What? Why are you saving me?

Peppy : I only a needed to buy you sometime.

General Pepper : Hmmm...I was deemed misfortuned, I realized something to tell you about those invasive aparoids.

Peppy : You're the one to talk, general.

Fox : So... that's one of the survivors of the Ohkuboverse.

Wolf : Of course, I realized that Angela Leon witch wasn't it?

Fox : ....?

Wolf : It turns out that Angela Leon was another of the survivors, the same thing as that girl named Tamaki.

Fox : Survivors? When did that happened?

Wolf : the heroes of that universe they lived, their universe was destroyed when Shinra was scolded for the creation of everything and his own son. Tch! That bastard devil was a real somebody and that's him.

Fox : So that lifelorm in that mech...

Wolf : That's him, that's the hero of the Ohkuboverse.

*later*

Rouge : So...glad that you're on the hero side, but don't mind me, I just luckily to have this fourth Chaos Emerald in my hand, but this is the real one that shadow was looking for. So young ma'am, where are you from, who are you?

Tamaki : I'm...I'm Tamaki...Tamaki Kotatsu.

Rouge : Tamaki Kotatsu?

[Echo Night - Beyond OST : Track 20]

Tamaki : That's me.

Sonic : Hey, wait a minute, now I know who you are, you're one of Shinra's comrades, the victims of the Time Eater.

Rouge : And most importantly, you were victimized by the Time Eater and that human girl.

Tails : But how did a survivor managed to end in Real World Au in the first place?

Tamaki : I was a girl failure type, and most of all...I was jealous, jealous of everything, jealous to...[To Shinra] you!

Shinra the Devil Chao : Wait me? Why would you be jealous of me?

Tamaki : I had to be make sure that I was the girlboss failure. Shinra this, Shinra that, Shinra wanted to be the hero of the world, Shinra created the world of Soul Eater before being scolded by the Time Eater, that's what Homura Akemi told him that Shinra was the one who did all of this.

Sonic : Homura Akemi...who is that person? Who's Homura Akemi?

Tamaki : The girl that killed us all in the Ohkuboverse. All of the influence, the heroism, gone, gone like she expunged us from our world to the real world in the multiverse, and for me, I got nothing in my past life, nothing at all! Do you have any idea what it's like to live in the shadows of everything?

Rouge : Why do you live in the real world as the only survivor who can make it to the real world. How did Angela Leon and you survived to the real world?

Tamaki : Angela Leon?

Rouge : The name of that witch, one of the Nintendo veterans was supposed to keep out on her, proclaiming to be the true guardian.

Tamaki : That witch. Oh, that's right. We used the song of time to escape into the real world where we would be kids living in the USA. But I realized that all of the witches are living on the eastside of the country, I remember where Angela Leon came from...She was from a place that this Leon Pawolski and her mother raised her as she was like her own kid. It was...Ummm, Hartford...Hartford, Connecticut. Yeah! That's the name of the place, Angela Leon was born somewhere in the outskirts of Europe, but then was raised in Hartford County, not Harford County, Maryland.

Rouge : Wait, did you say you're from where exactly, Maryland was it?

Tamaki : True, but not from the part of the Baltimore Metro, I'm from...Frederick County.

Rouge : Frederick County...? That's the home of the Blair Witch, Blair as in another inhabitant of the Ohkuboverse that died. Sonic, the inhabitants of the Ohkuboverse, the heroes of Soul Eater had some sort of connection with the people of Tokyo.

Sonic : What did you find?

Rouge : Satellite confirmed that Death Weapon Meister Academy, isn't just an organization, but a subsidiary of World Heroes Force, an organization that somehow existed that was established by one man who created the world of Soul Eater and everything.

[You Need This Done to You by Norihiko Hibino]

Tails : Wait a sec, so the school was actually a facade all along, but who's the founder of World Heroes Force?

Rouge : We all know who it is, and I know the one person responsible for it.

Sonic ...[To Shinra] Shinra Kusakabe!

Shinra the Devil Chao : What?

*Sonic jumps on the Dark Chao Walker*

Sonic : RRRAAAAAAGGGHHH!!! *THUD* YOU! YOU DID ALL OF THAT! YOU DID THIS FOR MAKA, FOR EVERYONE! YOU MANIPULATED EVERYONE! YOUR STUPID INFLUENCE GOT YOU AND EVERYONE DIED BECAUSE OF YOUR HEROISM! HOW...HOW CAN YOU DO SUCH THINGS LIKE YOU PUT BLASPHEMY ON ALL OF US!

Shinra the Devil Chao : Sonic! Chill out! L-Look! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, okay!? I had to do it, I did it all for other heroes in the Ohkuboverse! The Time Eater and that girl, Homura Akemi, scolded us and expunged all of us from our universe for a 1000 years! Do you know what it's like to be busy all the time with the foolishness I caused? I can't let the author know about this, the public will jeer us if we ever let you tell that, that's why I hid the truth from Maka, but she was the only one whoever seeked it, along with her mother and father! But her other father knew about it, his name was Phanto, Lord Phanto III, the founder and owner of the Sanctuary. To tell you the truth, she wasn't born on Nevada at all.

[Rock Thunderheart (Function) by Norihiko Hibino]

Sonic : Not born in Nevada, do all the heroes live in Nevada? We're they Nevadans?

Shinra the Devil Chao : No...They were never native to Nevada, they were native to their true places. I just realized that the pink-haired witch, Kimial Diehl, Inca's descendant, she's from New England, Soul Evans from Texas, Tsubaki from Tokyo, and for Maka Albarn...She... she was born on the Earth's Moon the entire time! I set up the events of Soul Eater's story so that Maka and everyone would follow the same footsteps as I do!

Sonic : You mean the living weapon Excalibur?

Shinra the Devil Chao : He was Arthur Boyle's property.

Saber (Arthur Boyle) : Say whaaaaat?!

Tails : Witches of Soul Eater?

Shinra the Devil Chao : Inca originated them.

Stewie : Say WHAAAAAT?

Sonic : And let me guess, Death the Kid and this Asura person that you call it a "Kishin".

Shinra the Devil Chao : Actually, they were my Grandkids.

Ghandi : Say WHAAAAAAT?

Rouge : But what about the children that turns into weapons?

Shinra the Devil Chao : Oh the weapons? Human-turning weapon thing? Oh no! I forgot about those kids. It was Shotaro the Dokeshi that created them...The demon weapon blueprints were stolen from him, they weren't created by magic...They were created by...ALCHEMY!

*The word Alchemy is echoed as scene changes to Winry*

Winry : (wakes up) Huh? What was that disturbance, I heaed somebody say that Alchemy created weapons? I just remembered something...Where did the world of Soul Eater gone wrong? More importantly, where in the heck am I? How did I ended up here? It did not happened since the 2003 show or that movie we were in. Edward? Alphonse? Grandma? Where is everyone? What sort of place is this?

*SIGN : WELCOME TO PRINCE GEORGE'S COUNTY, MARYLAND*

Winry : Prince George's County? [Thinking] Hmmm...[determined] Edward. I don't think we're not in our world anymore.

"Outside of the world of FMA, this is where Winry ended up after the show"

"It's Automail...Meets America?"

~ Mission 21 : Order and Defiance ~

[commander-gloryforge]

okay here i am to actually talk about this

during the earlier years of the pact (personal story - HoT, roughly), a lot of people don't really like or respect her as the commander of the pact. which, in turn, leads to her not respecting herself in her role either.

she's quite unpopular among many legion charr, going home to the black citadel earns her some suspicious looks ("they're letting ash trash lead a military now? what is she gonna do, hide from the dragons until they're gone?" "that's Vallus Smokesmane's cub, isn't it? he escaped, and i heard she helped him..." "she's supposed to give orders when she can't even take them herself?")

then there's the fact that someone always dies when on a mission with her. first it was the entirety of her warband going down, then her mentor, then more and more pact members lose their lives when theyre around her, her orders and mistakes leading them into death again and again. if you're assigned to join a mission along with the commander, you know someone's going to die, and it might be you.

some members of the other orders still aren't sure if a whispers agent (AND ash soldier?) is really the person they want to follow into battle. is a secretive spy really the one to lead an army to victory? how well can you really trust them?

oh, and speaking of trusting, what's up with both the marshal and the commander being necromancers? how come these creepy little death mages are so obsessed with the UNDEAD dragon? so zhaitan dies, and then? are they gonna use the corpse as their minion?

alright, fine, we may be getting into conspiracy theories here, but there is evidence for this, now hear me out: isn't it weird that so many asura lose their lives on mission with her? tonn first, then zott... its a surprise zojja hasn't mysteriously disappeared in her presence. do you think... maybe she... eats them-....?

okay. maybe some people are trying too hard to find reasons to dislike nona, but there's plenty of things people say about her. even many pact soldiers themselves question both her and trahearnes ability to lead. only towards the end of season 2, when the assault on mordremoth is coming closer, pact morale is finally at an all time high.

then it all falls apart. once again.

need to talk about how nona is really unpopular and distrusted as a commander, especially among other charr, and how some pact (and non pact) soldiers almost see her as a bad omen in her early days.

someone remind me to talk about that tomorrow i’m sleepy

[agentem]

Emily reads "Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon"

"Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon" is a nonfiction book by EW writer James Hibbard about the making of Game of Thrones. I am reading this solely to make fun of the original showrunners because I am a hater.

Benioff and Weiss met while studying Literature at Trinity College in Dublin. So just two rich Americans abroad, being nerds.

George RR Martin was "touched" they had read the books. These two assholes just stepped over the lowest bar, you guys. GRRM wanted someone who had read the books to do a faithful adaptation and they were the only ones who didn't "put their own spin on it".

It's like, "George, bby girl, they have no spin to put on it. They are basic." Like the showrunners should be adding some value. (I feel like the rest of the crew did with design and such but not the writers. I'm not sure how to describe it. Peter Jackson did adapting LotR faithfully too but he added, like, New Zealand to it and shit. Bryan Cogman says D&D had very naturalistic dialogue, not high fantasy diction. And I am like, "most screenwriters could do that.")

[Okay I should say here that my "hot take" on the end of Game of Thrones is that D&D did what they thought was "best' in adapting GoT. Admittedly, cutting the final seasons down to fewer episodes was dumb, etc. But I think that was them trying which is the sad part. See, I think they have very flawed understandings of the characters (like when Weiss said "Arya always does the awesomest thing" as opposed to Sansa frowny face) so it's kind of an undead zombie version of the outline they received from Martin--which was apparently not given in writing so their memories could be flawed too.]

They think they were lucky guessing Lyanna was Jon's mother. They had "discussed it" the day before. You could have Googled it then. People were discussing it online. That's what is SO ANNOYING about them to me. They never go to anyone else for a deeper understanding of what they read. They just guess and hope they are right.

[idk, right now they are making it sound really innovative to do a book a season and didn't "true blood" already do that?]

just go out and pitch shit to people. apparently if you are confident they will just believe you know how to do stuff.

[jeeperso]

I posted 591 times in 2022

56 posts created (9%)

535 posts reblogged (91%)

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I tagged 106 of my posts in 2022

#dungeons and dragons - 46 posts

#dnd 5e - 46 posts

#quotes without context - 38 posts

#ravenloft - 24 posts

#treasure island - 14 posts

#muppet treasure island - 9 posts

#dracula daily - 9 posts

#dracula - 9 posts

#barovia - 6 posts

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Longest Tag: 58 characters

#blogging and tagging so i can find the blasted thing again

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

D&D Quotes Without Context

Ravenloft edition, Barovia Arc, part 2

"Look I know you're a homicdial maniac, but it's after nine and we got kids!" "I'd ask if the sun ever shines in this misbegotten domain, but I'd say the answer is a resounding No." "No, vitamin D deficiency is.. common here it seems." As you say this, you hear a loud thump as something lands on top of your wagon. Looking up you see a large fat black tabby cat with one bad eye. It stares at Nyx, then lets out a loud meow before leaping off into the brush. “Fucking Ravenloft.” "I was worried it was raining corpses." "Right, so let's get this stupid evil box, deliver it to the stupid evil temple, and get the hells out of this stupid evil domain." “Yeah, the undead really need to step up their drama game.” "Well they can't all be the Duchess." "DID THE COUNT SEND YOU?" "Yes. Yes he did. We are here to move the Coffin." "OH GOOD. PLEASE DO. TAKE THAT ACCURSED THING OUT OF MY CITY." “HOW ACCURSED ARE WE TALKING?” "ITS... HARD TO EXPLAIN. I DON'T THINK THERE'S A PROPER WORD FOR IT. ITS LIKE... THE EARTH ATE THEM." Edmund looks back to the pit curiously. GM: It's still there, still being a pit. “If he’s coming down I’ve got money he dies before he gets here or soon after.” "It's Barovia, that's a suckers bet." “Honestly, it’s Ravenloft, the missing being dead is a best case scenario.” “I’m getting a Junji Ito vibe here. I say we burn the village, salt the earth and get this thing where the only thing it can hurt is the lord of the dead.” “Start with restoration, I’ll start my detect magic dance. Hot tip to the newcomers, the top comes off for this.” “Okay, I got a plan. We make a sled for this while Eddie takes a nap and asks his nerd god for curse breaking, then we get the fuck out of here.” As you are sitting there, you suddenly hear a loud thump from the coffin. "No, you shut the hell up. I don't care who or what is in there I do not want to deal with your bullshit." “Marsh, don’t lean on the forth wall too hard. They don’t like that.” Gorbash calls out: "Guys! Curse Coffin is making noises." Jonni storms around and points at the coffin, “And no bullshit from you, or I’m telling Strahd!” GM OOC: The rest of you don't hear a thing by the way. OOC: Jonni still tell it off. She knows better. Jonni starts doing her Naruto hand signs at the coffin. “Do you need a timeout?” Gorbash: "You think you can throw my inner scars at me and get me to fall for your trick like a sucker! Up your game! I survived fucking mindflayers." “Oh, hey, free titty mags!” “Guys, either I avoided the cursed cart, or there’s a burning dude around here.” Marshal stays with the coffin. You can practically hear him thinking of chaining it to himself once you find out if that won't kill him instantly. Irost: *writing a travelers guide* <Hammerlocke, It's the pits.> "Watch the Hole, Watch the Coffin, Watch the Road. Paranoia is only wrong when the world ISN'T out to get you." GM OOC: (You turn and see the hole is now chasing you in a truck.) OOC: Jonni polymorph the truck into a turtle. OOC: Gorbash: "Damn it turn off that gettaway music." OOC: Can’t sleep. Turtle van’ll eat me. The coffin bangs a few times, sometimes you hear whispering from it, but it mainly behaves. Marshal:

"Hold. State your business." Jonni: “Cursed box disposal.” Jonni: “Also I am here to pleasure as many of your women as are willing and time permits.”

“Yeah, you don’t wanna go near the coffin. It ate a town last week.”

One of the men gives you a curious look, they reach into a pack on their back and produce a wooden lamb mask, holding it up to you so it overlays your face. Jonni: “Oooo… new local kink culture.” The guy puts away the mask and pulls out a wanted poster. For someone called "The Lamb." Jonni: “Nah, I not a furry.”

“Marsh, she’s a furry. I know her type. I can handle this one way or another.”

Nyx is practically bouncing with excitement. "Werewolves, you say. My daggers would love to meet them."

"The Lamb is a fiend. A devil in human form who murders without conscience." Jonni: “Hot.” The captain rubs his brow. "Fucking adventurers." Gorbash: "In Jonni's case, very literally."

“Riverboat murder mystery sounds fun, but road might lead to better fun. I’m good with either.”

"Okay, road and if we encounter this "The Lamb" we let Jonni talk to her first. Maybe she is Jonni's type."

“Man, there are a lot of tittle mags in this domain…”

As you are riding through town, you see something horrifying. “Oh, no… they have The Big Bang Theory in play form…”

"Where was he gonna go, Detroit?"

“Well if he doesn’t wanna know what Super Hell is like he’ll mind his own business.”

"We may have to deal with VLAD once more... Or the Lamb... Or the Burning Orc.... I really have missed traveling with all of you."

As you draw near, the back cart suddenly pitches violently. “Don’t make me come back there!”

"We're on a tour of famous taverns and historical sites of Barovia. We heard Rose Brook has a charming B+B, we are heading there next." Jonni: “I’m doing something similar but with gorgeous ladies of the Domains of Dread.”

Gorbash: "If this turns out like the the maids at the ball, you're paying for clean up."

"Just as well you sprung for a room." The goblin says, "We're storing Jumbo here in the common room, and he takes up most the space himself." The ogre scratches his neck and yawns. Gorbash: "I'd hate for Jumbo to be cramped."

Of course you're currently fixing to be the meat in an Elf sandwich so you are a bit distracted. OOC: True, being drugged is just gonna make the night more interesting.

"If she wants to be struck by lightning in this weather, that's her choice."

"Fork it. I cast Gun."

Jonni shoots up awake at the sound of gunfire. “Huh, wha, boobs?!”

18 notes - Posted January 15, 2022

#4

Palisman

Uncommon Wondrous Item, requires attunement

An animated figurine hewn from magical wood, a Palisman is both friend and focus to the one who bonds with it. while typically acting as a familiar (per the Find Familiar spell), a Palisman can additionally be used as a Spellcasting Focus or Broom of Flying

19 notes - Posted June 28, 2022

#3

Your Legion of Superheroes Reboot

So, out of the blue, DC puts YOU in charge of a new Legion series. You can have a core team of 10 members; any version of any character from any era. (How do they all fit together? Uh, Hypertime, or something.) Who do you pick?

its a question I saw asked a couple of years back, and now I pose it to you, with the request you show your work and WHY said Legionnaires make your cut.

And, to get the ball rolling and show I ask nothing of you I cannot do myself, my picks and reasoning, plus a handy cheat to pad the numbers

of the core trio, I think we can get by with one or two of them, and Saturn Girl makes a perfect straight woman to the rest of the antics. Cosmic Boy's off doing, I dunno, something, while Garth's sudden leave of absence is an ongoing subplot (probably looking for Mekt) Up next are the mainstays, and while Brainy's the obvious pick, so too is Bouncing Boy, who often feels like the heart of the team and the most 'grounded' of them. There's some very Spock/McCoy banter between them I also pick Lightning Lass and Violet ("just Violet, thanks"), who gets her PHZ upgrade of being able to go giant, giving us some muscle. Ayla is one of the viewpoint characters, tying into the Garth plot by being asked to "fill in" while he's away. Turns out in the field, Ayla's so much like her brother that people outside the immediate team think Garth's transitioned via profem and is just being shy. that she and Violet quickly develop a will-they/won’t-they romantic tension is going to be an active subplot Actual Asian Karate Kid next, and to the delight of Nemesis Kid, yes, Val's 'space karate' ("that's the closest Interlac gets to translation") is a supernatural martial art, so in the event magic creeps into the plot, at least one of our heroes knows what's going on without having to call up the White Witch. Unluckily for Nemesis Kid, Val also knows the rumored Earther martial arts style known only as "Batman". Chameleon also makes the cut, and why yes, they ARE the adopted progeny of googolnaire R. J. Brande, thank you for asking. Reep's outgoing, genderfluid, and understandably full of themself as a celebrity turned hero. think 80's era wolfman/perez Gar Logan, and my apologies to Cham fans who think I'm butchering his personality. As apparently one of the few people who liked what I saw/heard of the Abnet/Lanning era of LoSH, we'll add Shikari/Dawnstar as the proud & scrappy angry bug lady. 

I was going to add Wildfire, what with the duo practically being a matched set, but Ultra boy is such a legion staple, so Jo Nah gets in as the other viewpoint character ("It's this or Space Juvie"). 

And we’ll round things out with XS, because its always nice to have an optimistic, go-getting speedster, even if she can by a little stuck up about her part in the Flash legacy. That's the core cast. now for my promised cheat, this being "they should be on the team, but they're supporting cast for now", so... Luornu Durgo is the seemingly overworked support staffer. Our active cast have twigged that it's like there's two or three of her, but have yet to grasp the numbers of the future Duplicate Girl Tenzil Kem is the Legion's definitely overworked Lawyer/PR guy, whom Cham regards as "My incredibly boring but actually kinda awesome big brother figure, not that I'll admit that... you aren't recording this, right?" Princess Jeka Wynzorr Wilimena Morgana Daergina Annaxandra Projectra Velorya Vauxhall of Orando (scaly lamia, because I liked that look). while not a member of the Legion, often calls on them for help. Karate Kid is seriously crushing on her. Tinya Wazzo, "unofficial liason" to the UP, in that her mother, UP president Wazzo, put her there as an internship for 'work experience', and heads will literally roll if word gets back that Tinya was anywhere near the actual action The "White Witch" of the Sorcerers' Planet is both ally and antagonist to the legion, depending on the plot, rarely seen without her trusted bodyguard Blok. Is trying to get ahead of some particularly nasty prophecies of her people, which range from "eaters of the sun" to "return of the sorcerer king" and even "The Great Darkness". Drake "Wildfire" Burroughs. Friend of Jo's from his troublemaker days. but the incident that got Jo eaten by a space whale also turned Drake into living energy. Angry and bitter, especially because he was pressganged by Leland McCauley onto his Workforce of indentured superbeings while Jo's a full on superhero, but deep down wants to be a good guy.

so, that’s my legion plus supporting cast, who’ll you put in the roll call?

31 notes - Posted June 9, 2022

#2

The Boiling Isles

The following is a writeup for the setting of the Owl House for use in the Dungeons & Dragons setting of Ravenloft. For those only just discovering Owl House, please be advised that MASSIVE spoilers for the entire series are below the cut

The Boiling Isles

A realm of everyday Witches & Demons Darklord: Emperor Belos Genre: Dark Fantasy, Horror Comedy Hallmarks: Conformity, lies and betrayal Mist talismans: Broken Palisman, Coven signet ring, Hexes Hold'em deck The Boiling Isles is the name for the cluster of islands formed from the impossibly huge remains of a being known only as The Titan, the largest of which being the torso, floating on a vast, boilingly hot sea. Architecture is as much hewn or grown as it is built, and the Isles are populated by exclusively nonhuman races. By Domain standards, The Boiling Isles are surprisingly no more or less dangerous than most planes in the Multiverse. Adventurers from all walks of life face their occupational hazards, but the average citizen goes about their day in peace and order. All under the watchful eye of Emperor Belos and his Imperial coven. Under his rule, 'wild' magic is strictly outlawed, and recognized magics are just as strictly regimented. Those deemed 'unsuitable', or unwilling to conform to the expected norm are threatened with anything from imprisonment to petrification, and even loyal servants of the realm are subject to sudden tests of 'moral purity' or  'unfortunate accidents’. Treachery is a constant in the Boiling Isles. Empty promises are given out by the rich and powerful to exploit those under them, monsters disguise themselves as kindly wizards to lure in their next meal of unsuspecting adventurers, and otherwise rational people are frequently led on by predatory schemes that bleed away everything they have. Even professional competitions have suddenly introduced or obscure rules that serve only to hand out immediate victory to one player and invalidate the efforts of everyone else. Noteworthy Features - Magic runs rampant in the Boiling Isles, to the point that there are no non-magical races. Islanders who resemble humans are witches, those who don't are Demons. - Many magic users in the Boiling Isles have a Palisman, a familiar made from magical wood (uncommon magical item, requires attunement), but these are of escalating rarity as they're confiscated by the Emperor's Coven. - the Emperor's rule began in living memory, in the wake of a terrible disaster, and recognized by his ability to speak with the Titan itself - Magic is strictly regulated under the coven system, and each Coven can only use that form of magic. Settlements & Sites - Bonespurough: The largest and cosmopolitan of the communities in the Boiling Isles. - The Conformatorium: The central prison complex of the Boiling Isles, the Conformatorium is a massive fortress and literal dungeon where those whose will is not in lockstep with the Imperial norm are sent - The Schools: Hexside, Glandus and St. Epidermis are the three primary learning institutions on the Boiling Isles, each one tasked with teaching students in the use of magic under the imperial coven system, by whatever means the current headmaster deems necessary, up to and including mind-manipulating 'detentions' and other artifacts of dubious morality - Imperial Palace: home and stronghold to the emperor and his elite Imperial Coven. Those who enter as prisoners are often only seen again as statues.

Emperor Belos

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40 notes - Posted June 28, 2022

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80 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

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[ambassadorquark]

okay your malewife simulator tag. the art is amazing and it looks very chaotic, what's it about?

it’s a vague idea i had for a dating sim i don’t plan to make in which you control a king who’s trying to form alliances with various difficult ambassadors and rulers of other nations to fight an evil lich and his army of the undead. i was thinking about the discourse around gay dating sims what with very few of them being actually for guys who like other guys and i wanted to try designing a cast of various characters with unique appeals that weren’t all strictly my type, but would be attractive or charming to a wider variety of people. i basically made a list of tropes and loose ideas and went at it and then off of that i started fleshing out the cast beyond the characters i envision as love interests because i like designing sexy fantasy characters.

actually the kernel behind the whole idea was a random thought i had about like a stupid harem isekai anime where the protagonist goes to a fantasy world but instead of being anime girls his harem is all like hot dads and muscle furries. but i still haven’t drawn any furries for wifesim beyond the dragon characters… we’ll get there

[nightcoremoon]

I just realized that none of the female characters in dark souls are sexualized

anastacia's a priestess in a full cloak

rhea's a priestess in a full cloak

the undead merchant is just a normal lady who really likes moss

the butchers are just big ladies who chop meat and trespassers

mildred runs around the toxic swamp in a loincloth, sure, but with a bag over her head and a giant fuckhuge axe

quelana is a flame wizard in a full cloak

quelaag is naked yeah but she's also a fucking hideous spider monster with a huge ass fire sword and it's not like she's being sexy or anything she's just like, yo get the fuck out of my city and leave my sister alone or I'll fucking kill you

her sister is naked yeah but she's also a fucking hideous spider monster surrounded by a billion curse rotted eggs

alvina is... literally a cat

beatrice is a witch in a full cloak

the darkmoon knightess is a warrior in full armor

the balder darkmoon knight is probably a girl and the armor is a crop top and booty shorts but every single other balder knight dresses exactly the same way

gwynevere has big bazongas but her manner is more maternal and/or benevolent older sistery than sexy, plus miyazaki had her designed to be flat chested and kept getting mad at all of the games artists for making her amazing chest ahead even bigger despite him saying bro stop it, PLUS that's not even the real gwynevere because that's an illusion created by gwyndolin who may I point out is her older brother

gwyndolin is a boy who was raised as a girl because of his affinity for moon magic and I'm just assuming this is a localization thing so even though he has bigger tits by ratio than gwynevere he does not belong on this list no matter how many gross transfetishist men say so

priscilla is a dragon monster just minding her own business inside her painting, in a full fur coat that might actually be her scaled but idk

sieglinde's a warrior in full armor

dusk is a princess in a full cloak

elizabeth is literally a mushroom

ciaran is a warrior in full armor

the fire keepers wear full cloaks

shanalotte wears a full cloak

shalquoir is literally a cat

melentia is just a nomadic merchant

licia is a fucking cunt priestess in a full cloak

lucatiel is a knight in full armor

rosabeth wears whatever the fuck you give her

chloanne wears a dress with cleavage wow gasp I can't believe a wimminz would dare to have mammary glands

ornifex... okay admittedly she has a thick juicy ass but she's also a weird harpy demon thing

nashandra is a normal queen in a dress terrifying scythe wielding demon monster

the milfanitos (yes that is what they are called) are just perfectly normal humans in dresses

elana is another terrifying scythe wielding demon monster

alsanna wears a full normal dress

bellclaire, felicia, melinda, roenna, the dozen other female NPC phantoms not on the wiki, as far as I can remember they're all just ladies in armor with big weapons

the maiden in black, the hunter's doll, the fire keeper, anri, lady maria, nothing I can think of is even remotely on the side of explicitly sexualized

except maybe for the desert sorceresses but I can hardly blame miyazaki for anything in ds2 now can I?

honestly the most sexual thing in any of the souls games is the pisacas since they're literally just giant blue vagina-shaped blob monsters, the chaos eaters who literally vore you, aldrich voring gwyndolin, MiB's dirty feet, all the weird gross totally not sexual things that the internet has ruined in the past 20 years.

well and the dancer of the boreal valley but I mean that hardly counts, she's like the fuckin beldam from coraline but with giant swords. just because she's got cake doesn't mean it's unwholesome.

I've been playing so many souls games that I kind of forgot just how creepy and male gazey everything in the video game industry is. just look at kerrigan's ass, miranda's ass, tracer's ass, quiet's square inch of covered skin "for plot reasons", 2B's ass, there's just ass ass ass fucking everywhere. I mean I like hot girl ass, who doesn't? but holy shit can we have some more respect for the girls themselves and love them as humans with drive, desire, ambition, agency, and assets that don't have anything to do with what body parts they have? I know my boy hidetaka has shown that it's very possible.

[knight-of-the-valley]

Dragonborn Jaune

Author’s note: Okay, so, this is my first post on pretty much anything. But I finally decided to say ‘fuck it’ and post this story idea I’ve been sitting on for like a year. I’m taking this as like a trial run, and I’m open to any constructive criticism. Also I don’t have a proper title to this yet so that’s just a place holder.

Skyrim. To many it was a cold, harsh land. To others it was home. To the lone, blonde warrior it had always been a strong combination of both. Though that thought wasn’t exactly on his mine as Jaune ducked under the jaws of a large frost dragon. He sliced upwards, his Nightingale Blade drawing dark blood from the thinner scales.

The white dragon roared. “You will die, Dovahkiin!”

“Unlikely”, Jaune remarked with a hint of dry amusement. Then he inhaled and Shouted, “Fus. Ro!” While it wasn’t the full Shout, the force was enough to stagger the dragon, allowing Jaune to bury his sword into its eye. He held on as the dragon gave a last struggle before collapsing. Jaune removed his blade and stepped back as the dragon’s corpse began to burn and fade. He gave a soft sigh as the soul was absorbed into his own, strengthening his power. You’d think after defeating Alduin, they wouldn’t attack me, he absently thought.

Either way, the dragon was dead, he’d devoured the soul, and now he could continue his return journey to Lakeview. He summoned a purple orb magic and tossed it a few feet before him. Immediately a swirling portal opened and out stepped a skeletal steed. Jaune smiled as the undead horse approached him, and reached out to stroke its head. “Arvak”, he greeted affectionately, “I’m ready to be home.” 

Arvak gave a silent neigh and Jaune mounted the spectral horse. As he rode his thoughts drifted to his friends. Serana had returned to Volkihar Castle to try and return it to a more livable setting, or a livable as a vampire castle could get. Inigo was in Riften helping the Thieves’ Guild, who were finally back to their glory days; in no small part thanks to Jaune. The Companions and the College were both plenty busy as well, as far as he knew.

All in all, Jaune’s life seemed fairly...mellow. At least compared to the last few years.

It only took a half hour to return to his manor. A proud smile etched across his face as he looked up at the house he and his friends had built. After Arvak returned to the Soul Cairn, Jaune noticed that it was getting late. With nothing pressing going on at the moment, the seventeen year old Nord felt like he finally had the chance to really relax.

Later that night, after a long, hot bath, Jaune was ready to turn in. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, his own deep blue eyes gazing back at him. His blonde hair, which he usually kept back in a low ponytail, fell to the beginning of his shoulders, and his facial hair was in the early stages of growing back. Muscles toned from years of training and constant fighting laced his figure. While his face was free of scars, except for the small one on his chin, the rest of him was decorated with old wounds. The most prominent of them being the long claw mark running from his left shoulder to right hip. It had been a parting gift from the World Eater in their final battle, nearly costing him his life as well as destroying his armor.

Shaking away the memory of him almost dying, Jaune finally retired to bedroom. Sinking into the soft mattress he let himself relax. A stray thought entered his mind as he began drifting off. With how well things have been going, it’s probably time for my ‘Dragonborn Luck’ to blindside me. Either way that can wait for tomorrow. And with that he closed eyes and let sleep take him.

-

The next morning Jaune awoke feeling refreshed and well rested. After a small breakfast of horker jerky and fruit, as well as some light training, he geared up to make his journey to Riften. As much as the city left a bad taste in his mouth from memories of his childhood, he was technically the Grandmaster of the Guild, and there was business that he needed to see to.

He donned his custom made armor, a personal mix of dragonhide leather; with a bit of wolf around the joints for easier movement. Dragon scales lined the forearms, chest, and abdomen. A perfect mix of light and tough, enchanted to his liking, and comfortable, Jaune wouldn’t hesitate to call his armor a work of art. Nightengale Blade strapped to his waist, and his enchanted bag attached to the opposite side, the young Dragonborn was nearly set to leave.

The last item he grabbed was his most trusted weapon. A finely crafted curved dagger about ten inches long, and the last gift he received from the woman he considered his mother.

“Little Dagger...I give to you the Blade of Woe...please...live a better life than this...please be better than what we made you.”

Jaune closed his eyes and took a calming breath. Six years and it still hurt to think about. It’s in the past, he reminded himself. Putting that aside he sheathed the blade next to his sword. He was about to leave when he noticed something on the dining room table. His eyes widened when he noticed what it was.

The Oghma Infinium.

The Dragonborn eyed the Artifact suspiciously. He had already read from it over a year ago, and it had vanished the moment the knowledge had drained into his mind. So then why was it here? Hermaous Mora’s influence was the obvious answer. But why?

Jaune sighed. The Deadra were always trouble, Princes even more so. “Might as well see what he wants”, he said and opened the stitched cover. He frowned as the page he opened had only three words. “A Shout?”

Knowledge flowed through his mind as the Shout became etched into his soul. Then Jaune opened his mouth and spoke, “Bex. Lein. Miiraad!”

There was brief moment where the world seemed to go silent before Jaune heard a portal open behind him. He didn’t even have a chance to turn around as he felt himself thrown backwards and into the unknown gate.

And just like that, the young Dragonborn was no longer in Tamriel.-When Jaune awoke he was on his back. As he sat up he felt that every muscle hurt and his head as spinning. “Portals”, he groaned, “I hate portals.”

Once he cleared his head Jaune stood up and looked around to try and get his bearings. He was in a forest, that much was clear, but it wasn’t one he recognized. Strangely, it was also later in the day, as the sky was dark. The Dragonborn was about to begin walking in a random direction to figure out where he was when a growl drew his attention. Jaune turned and blinked in surprise at the creature before him. It resembled a small werewolf, though its fur was pitch black and it had a bone white mask. Spikes of the same look as the mask sprouted from its arms and back.

It also wasn’t alone.

Several more appeared from the darkness of the forest, their burning eyes at their newfound prey.

Unfortunately for them, their prey happened to be a dragon in human form.

“I’d advice the lot of you to turn around and forget this happened”, Jaune remarked as he unsheathed his sword, “But something tells me you’re not the listening types.”

The collective howls from what looked to be almost two dozen of the not-werewolves was as close to an answer as he was going to get.

“Very well”, he replied and cast a quick armor spell, “Let’s do this.”

Both sides than charged.

-

High in Beacon Academy sat Headmaster Ozpin. He was finishing up the review of the transcripts. To say that this year’s lineup was promising would be an understatement. His eyes passed over the final paper. Ruby Rose. Age: 15. She’d be entering a full two years early, but from what he’d seen she was a natural prodigy. Her skills would’ve been wasted attending Signal for another couple years. Plus there was also the matter of-

“Sir.”

The Headmaster’s eyes rose to his right in practically everything, Glynda Goodwitch. “Yes, Glynda?”

“Our cameras in the Emerald Forest picked up something. I followed the trail and found this.” She held up her Scroll’s display and Ozpin’s eyebrows rose in slight surprise.

It was a young man, probably the same age as a first year, garbed in strange leather armor and in the midst of fighting off a large pack of Beowolves. Well, it must’ve been large before he had stumbled across them because the boy was tearing through them like paper, several bodies already dissolving around him. From the brief view Ozpin could immediately tell the boy was skilled. 

However even the most skilled Huntsman could be overwhelmed.

“Glynda, go and get him, as quickly as you can.”

The Deputy Headmistress nodded and quickly hurried off.

-

“Dibella’s tits!” Jaune cursed as he decapitated one of the newly seen creatures. “Can you bastards just take a damn hint?!”

He had done a good job of staying on the move and fighting, however it seemed whenever he killed one of the beasts another would take its place. Slamming into one of the smaller wolves, Jaune’s momentum carried the two through the brush and out into the open. Tearing out his blade from the dissolving body, his eyes lifted to the sky.

And his stomach promptly dropped.

Jaune was expecting the familiar sight of Tamriel’s two moons, Masser and Secunda, hanging in the night sky.

But instead he only saw a single, shattered moon gazing back down at him.

“What?” he absently asked. “What is-?”

The shocking revelation was immediately cut short as more howls echoed throughout the forest. Jaune growled in his throat, his Thu’um vibrating the air; he was already over this damn place. More of the not-werewolves leapt from the tree line, along with a couple bear-like ones, as well as an even larger wolf. While he still wasn’t sure what to call them, he could easily tell the large not-werewolf was a leader of some kind. Bigger, stronger, and most likely smarter than its siblings.

“Well, you’re all quite relentless, I’ll give you that.”

While he wasn’t physically tired, years of training and adventure, as well as being Dragonborn allowed Jaune to fight for much longer than a normal person, Jaune was aware that he had limits. He was in an unknown place, surrounded by unknown enemies, as well as not knowing if there were more nearby. Aura Whisper could solve the last problem; however, it would affect his vision, which was unwise.

He was going through his options. If anything, he could use Bend Time to escape, but it was a big risk. That particular Shout was the most taxing on him, and he wasn’t keen on being without his Shouts in this strange...well world.

As he was debating what to do the dark creatures prepared to use the brief window to attack. However, their attention was broken by a new noise. Jaune himself didn’t recognize what it was and looked skyward.

Jaune couldn’t help but blink as he beheld what was above the field. It appeared to be a large metal ship, though how exactly it was remaining air born was a mystery to the young Nord. It lowered until it was hovering only a foot off the ground before a door on the side opened. A tall blonde woman appeared from the inside, dressed in unfamiliar clothing, and wielding what looked like a riding crop.

“Hurry!” she shouted. “This way!”

She flicked the crop in her hand and- adding to the growing list of confusion for Jaune- it lit up as if with magic before several rocks from the ground erupted and hurled themselves at the creatures. Wasting little time, Jaune broke into a sprint and jumped into the metal ship beside his rescuer. 

“Take off, now!” she shouted to someone inside.

Sensing their prey was going to escape the large wolf gave a howl and the pack made a desperate charge. The woman was about to retaliate when Jaune stepped forward. 

“Allow me”, he replied and faced the pack. He took a deep breath in and then Shouted, “Yol. Toor. Shul!”

In that instant a geyser of orange fire erupted from Jaune’s open mouth. The wolf creatures had all of a second to regret their decision to engage the blonde as over half of them were instantly incinerated. Flames quickly spread amongst the rest. Finally, the last of the fire reached the leader. They only managed to latch onto its left side, but Jaune could clearly hear its pained howls over the dying sounds of the smaller ones.

Once the ship was higher up Jaune turned to the wide-eyed expression of the blonde woman. “Thank you for that, ma’am”, he said, “You arrived not a moment too soon.”

Her expression turned to a normal look and she nodded. “You’re welcome. My name is Glynda Goodwitch. Why in the world are you out in the Emerald Forest in the middle of the night?”

“Nice to meet you ma’am”, Jaune replied, “I’m Jaune. As for why I’m out here...it’s a bit of a long story.”

Glynda hummed. “Very well, Jaune, you can tell it to Headmaster Ozpin.”

-

Ozpin looked up just as the elevator door opened. In walked Glynda as well as the stranger. Upon seeing him Ozpin almost immediately felt a sense of grief. This young man had seen and gone through more than anyone his age should; possibly more so than many professional Huntsmen.

Putting that aside he adopted a friendly smile. “Greetings, young man, I am the Headmaster of this school. You may call me Ozpin.”

-

Jaune looked at the Headmaster, debating whether or not he should lie about his situation. Eventually he decided he didn’t have enough information to make it believable, and the truth would be better suited in the long run. “Well, sir, my name is Jaune, and I feel I should sit as my story is quite long.”

It took a while, but Jaune told them his tale. He left out several more personal bits of information, mostly events from his early childhood he wasn’t comfortable sharing with people he just met. Jaune showcased his magic to further corroborate his story when he was told magic wasn’t a thing in their world. Ozpin, it seemed, was very open-minded.

As he finished his tale with landing in the Emerald Forest a memory sprouted in his mind. Jaune sighed and shook his head. “Godsdammit, now I see.”

“Pardon?” the Headmaster inquired.

“I’m now realizing I should’ve put all of this together sooner. I was told this would happen.”

-

The Throat of the World. The Snow Tower. The tallest peak in all Tamriel and the home of the reclusive Greybeards. It was also a favorite spot for Jaune to visit and spend hours discussing various subjects with their leader; as well as someone he considered a very close friend.

Paarthurnax.

The old, gray dragon remained perched atop the crumbling Word Wall, listening to the young Dragonborn’s tale. It had become a bit of an annual tradition for Jaune to make the journey and just talk with the dragon. Paarthurnax enjoyed hearing of his pupil’s various adventures, often inquiring about certain aspects, or asking of different outcomes that could’ve happened. Also, as an added benefit, Jaune got plenty of practice speaking Dovahzul in full sentences.

“-so after that the bandits just fled and we found Amren’s sword. I’m still surprised they stuck around as long as they did after Serana tore into that orc’s neck.”

A low hum escaped the old dragon. “Vahzah. Not many would openly face your briinah once the truth of her being is revealed.”

Jaune chuckled from his seat on a nearby rock. “Yeah, either way I’m glad I was able to get Amren’s family sword back before they were able to sell it.” He glanced up at the sky before standing and brushing off some snow. “Well, I had better head back down. Hopefully Serana hasn’t pestered the Greybeards too much.”

However, before he could leave, he was stopped by his teacher. “Saraan, Dovahkiin. I have a message I must in part to you.”

“A message?” Jaune asked, confused. “From who?”

“From my Bormahu, my Father.”

That was certainly a surprise. Akatosh had a message for him? If the God of Time Himself had something for him, it must be incredibly important.

“What is it?”

Paarthurnax closed his eyes and extended his massive head towards the sky. “A trial approaches, beneath a pale, broken moon. Creatures of darkness encroach on the light, far, far too soon. A fellowship of four, in an academy for heroes. Unite wind and man, and be the one to guide the rose.”

Nothing but the winds at the top of the world were heard as Jaune digested what had been said. He was about to question his master further when the dragon turned his head back to him.

“I know no more, Dovahkiin. Krosis. That is all I was told.”

Jaune remained there for another minute before he remembered he needed to reunite with Serana. “I...thank you, master.” It was all he could really say.

The gray dragon dipped his snout. “Pruzah wundunne, Dovahkiin.” And with that he spread his wings and soared into the sky, leaving Jaune alone, and confused.

-

While Jaune had told them of his meeting with Paarthurnax- leaving out that his teacher was a dragon- Ozpin’s eyes took on an understanding gleam. Jaune easily picked up on this. “You know something of what he was saying.”

“I believe I do”, the Headmaster conceded, impressed by the young man’s observation. He tapped on his Scroll and displayed the recorded video of Ruby Rose’s fight against Roman Torchwick and his men. Ozpin couldn’t help but smile in amusement at Jaune’s wide-eyed expression from the display. “Ruby Rose”, he explained, “I talented young lady who will be joining my school a full two years early.”

Jaune gave a small hum of realization. “’Guide the rose’”, he repeated, “It makes sense. But she seems perfectly capable of handling herself.”

“True”, Ozpin agreed, “However as I said, she is younger than our other first years, and has yet to see how the world can truly be. Perhaps that is why you are here, to help her prepare for...whatever is coming.”

“Maybe, though with prophecy it’s never as cut a dry as that.”

Ozpin chuckled slightly. “Indeed. Now, Jaune, I have a proposition for you. If you are to ‘guide the rose’ you will need a way of interacting with Miss Rose. So-” he learned forward, interlocking his fingers “-how would you like to join my school?”

From next to him he could hear Glynda audibly sigh in frustration, as well as resignation. No doubt having already deduced what her boss was planning, and the additional paperwork she would inevitably have to do.

Jaune just smiled. “While I’ll be entirely out of my element in this world, I’m not one to turn down a challenge. I accept.”

With a nod Ozpin leaned back. “We will need your full name, however. Or is Jaune all that you are known by?”

“Just Jaune, I never had a need for a surname.”

“We can create one for you”, Glynda replied, taking out her own Scroll to put him in the system, “Does anything stand out that you would like?”

The Dragonborn was silent as he thought it over. Then, he remembered what was a common practice in certain places in Tamriel. “Astridson”, he finally answered, “Call me Jaune Astridson.”

-

Later, once his information was in Beacon’s databank, Jaune was following Glynda down one of the hallways. “You will have to stay in one of the guest rooms for tonight”, she explained, “Tomorrow morning you simply make your way to the auditorium, or outside to wait for the students to arrive.”

“Understood, thank you ma’am.”

Glynda hummed at the polite tone and eventually stopped in front of a door. “Here we are.” She used her Scroll to open it and stepped inside, Jaune following after her. “The shower is through there; in case you wish to use it. The right knob is for hot water, the left for cold. Is there anything you wish to ask?”

“No ma’am, and thank you.”

She nodded and began to leave. “Have a good night, Mr. Astridson.”

“You as well ma’am.”

Once she was gone Jaune decided to look around. Though he quickly discovered there wasn’t much in the small guest room. Eventually he sat down against one of the walls and folded his legs. He wasn’t tired, and meditation was always a good alternative to sleep.

I’m in a different world, with strange creatures of darkness, attending a school for future heroes, Jaune mused to himself, As Inigo would say, ‘Dragonborn Luck strikes again’.

-

The next morning Jaune couldn’t help but still gawk at the airships above him. He had a feeling mortals being able to fly wouldn’t sit well with some, if not all, of the dragons. As he took in the sights around him his attention was brought back down when an explosion shook the courtyard. Instincts kicking in, his hand snapped to the blade at his wrist. However upon further examination he released the explosion had come from a small, smoke-filled crater several yards away. Once it cleared he was surprised to see Ruby seated in the center of it. Above her was another girl, maybe slightly older and dressed all in white, shouting something at the red-themed girl.

Releasing his grip on his sword, Jaune made his way over to see what exactly was going on. Though by the time he got there the white-themed one had stormed off, as well as girl dressed in black that Jaune could swear be mistaken for a certain vampire princess at passing glance.

Seeing Ruby dejectedly still sitting in the crater Jaune felt it was time to introduce himself.

-

Well, today hadn’t gone exactly like she had planned. First her sister had totally ditched her, then she tripped on some crabby girl’s luggage and exploded, and then that other girl had just left her here. Ruby sighed. “Welcome to Beacon.”

“Hey, need some help?”

The voice made her jump and she looked up to its source. Silver gazed into deep blue. The boy was slightly older than her, with golden blonde hair pulled back in a loosely gather ponytail, and a small amount of fuzz on his chin. “Oh, uh...thanks”, she mumbled, slightly flushed at this situation. When she accepted his offered hand, she felt a sudden warmth spread through her. It passed as quickly as it appeared, but it did confuse her. That was...weird. Turning her attention back to the boy she could’ve sworn she saw his eyes widen in surprise before turning normal a second later.

She should probably introduce herself, now that she thought about it.

“Um, “I’m Ruby Rose.”

“...Jaune. Jaune Astridson. It’s nice to meet you, Ruby.”

“You too.”

And now things were silent again, and she felt awkward.

Thankfully Jaune spoke. “So, care to come with me to the auditorium?”

She sighed in relief. “Yes, thanks, ‘cause I don’t know where it is.”

-

While Ruby seemed genuinely happy someone had stepped in to help her, Jaune had come to realize what the prophecy had truly meant by ‘guide the Rose’. It was no longer just as simple as being a more experienced guide. No, Jaune knew the moment his hand touched hers, the warmth in his soul, it just wasn’t an easy concept to wrap his head around.

But the answer was right there.

Ruby was like him.

Ruby Rose was Dragonborn.

---

And there ya go. My first ever posting of anything to this degree online. As I said, I’m completely open to any and all constructive criticism. I really would eventually like to turn his into a full-blown story, because I have a lot of ideas for it. Also if you have any questions feel free to ask and I’ll answer as best I can without giving away any spoilers for what I’d like to happen.

Pruzah wundunne, friends.

[adamarks]

If one more person says simon snow should lose his wings i’m gonna lose my goddamn mind: a meta

Alright you guys, I’ve had ENOUGH. Simon cannot lose his wings unless you want him to break up with Baz, and this is why.

Let’s start with Baz.

This analysis is obviously Simon-based, and yes i’ll get there, but first we need to look at the biggest key we’ve been given to what Simon’s wings could possibly mean subtextually and metaphorically for the story at large. That key is: Baz’s vampirism. 

Baz being a vampire is constantly compared to/mentioned in tandem with his queerness in Carry On. In his first chapters, what are the three most important traits that we learn about him? 

he’s a drama queen

he’s a vampire

he’s hopelessly in love with simon snow

If you boil his character down until he’s basically just a stick figure, that’s what he is: an over dramatic vampire in love with Simon Snow.

We’ve all read the books, we all know this, and we all know he’s much more than that. What of it?

What’s important is that Baz’s vampirism is treated almost the exact same as his homosexuality. 

Hiding it from everyone, being ashamed of it, knowing what you are but being terrified of it. His dad being “definitely more disappointed in my queerness than my undeadness.” 

I mean, holy shit, let’s look at this bit in Carry on from Chapter 51:

“I think if I got married, to a girl from a good family, my father wouldn’t even care that I’m queer. “

This scene really hits, because how many times have you wondered “What if I was straight? Maybe this thing wouldn’t be as bad?” “What if i was just a straight poc?” “What if I was only gay and not trans?” “What if I was only disabled and not gay on top of it?” What if, what if, what if. Would my life be easier? you wonder. Would I get hurt less? Would people treat me better?

If Carry On is about self-realization, then Wayward Son is about the struggle of self-acceptance. 

Baz going to Las Vegas and meeting Lamb probably seemed familiar for some of you people that are LGBT+. It’s how you feel when you’re from a small town and you go to a big city like New York or Orlando or LA for the first time and you see gay people all around you. Flamboyantly gay! Gay people holding hands! Gay people kissing! Trans people that don’t fit the gender norms! Older trans ladies just walking down the street!

It’s exciting, it’s exhilarating. Your baby-gay brain is so confused because no one’s giving them dirty looks. They don’t look nervous or ashamed. Is this allowed?

The party in the penthouse is glamorous and beautiful and alluring and none of the humans there are scared or look like they’re in real danger. It’s because they aren’t. None of those vampires are there to kill people. 

This is where Baz’s fear of his own nature comes in. Let’s hear it for all you homosexuals in the crowd that are/have been terrified of being predatory. Of turning the gender you’ve been told all of your life you’re not supposed to want into pieces of meat. You feel ashamed for wanting physical intimacy. You feel wrong for wanting emotional intimacy. 

Lamb is the older gay that you meet/learn about/watch on youtube or whatever that makes you learn that no, you’re not inherently evil. Lamb is the queer history, the queer movies, the queer people that you discover that make you learn that “no, i’m not bad. I’m not broken. I’m beautiful. I’m beautiful.” 

Baz thinking the sight of Lamb drinking that guy’s blood being alluring and beautiful is crucial to his arc. Baz needs to see that all of him is beautiful. 

So homosexuality = Baz being a vampire? How in the flying fuck does this have anything to do with Simon?

Remember, Baz is our key. His struggles have been happening since book one. Simon just gained his “creature” status at the end of Carry On. He’s new to this. Which means we’re new to the subtext. Which means: let’s dive on into the next big point.

Our Big Bisexual Boy

Whatever label you choose to use for Simon is up to you. As long as we all agree he likes more than one gender then it’s whatevs. I’m going to be using the word bisexual for this meta, though. 

We’re all well aware that Simon is Struggling with his bisexuality in this book. 

“I still haven’t sorted out whether I’m still attracted to women or whether I ever was, or whether I’m some kind of Baz-only-sexual. But the cleavage at this place is abundant, and I’m not mad about it.”

(taken from chapter 21) 

Like....... y’know. We know. It’s... we get it. 

The important part of that quote is that it’s at the Ren Faire. The Ren Faire is the first time Simon’s had his wings out in public since god-knows-when, if ever. This is also the first time he really considers kissing Baz in the book. Kissing Baz in Public.

Any of you that have been to Pride probably got a little bit of the warm fuzzies during this scene. The faire brought back such deep memories of my first pride it was a little bit emotional. I talked to random people, people ran around in rainbow outfits. There was body paint! Stupid hats! Weird dye jobs! The classic pride-flag-as-a-cape look! I talked to so many people and 

“Everyone here is so friendly.”

(also taken from chapter 21)

Everyone was so nice to me.

Baz feels right at home; Simon is all smiles. The only one not having a blast is Penny and she’s (I’m sorry, Penny) the token straight friend in these books. 

I don’t know how Rainbow did it, but she made me relive my first pride through Simon, and I’ll never not be grateful for that. 

“Today I’m someone else entirely. Today I’m just a bloke with fake red wings.”

The Pride/Ren Faire parallels were pretty obvious, but I wanna get a little further into the whole “wings = being bisexual” thing. 

We’ve established with Baz that being a magical creature or whatnot is Gay, but while Baz is fully magical, Simon’s “half-normal.” Kind of. It’s a weird situation there but half-normal works for the argument. 

“’Smells like dragon... but also smells like iron. Another abomination!’” 

(chapter 35)

Now the word “abomination” is really fucking unfortunate in this context, but biphobia exists so idk man. I’m gonna start talking in gay/straight terms and I absolutely know bisexuality isn’t half-gay half-straight but we’re talking in metaphors and i’ll tie it together at the end so just stick with me, okay?

He’s part dragon, part Normal (kind of). Simon’s not like Baz where he’s absolutely, 100% a vampire. He has traits of dragons and humans. This is why it’s so bad that he hates his wings half the time. They are part of him. They may not be “normal” and he may have to hide them, but he can’t just cut off the gay part. Our queerness doesn’t define us, but it’s a defining feature. 

Penny says she wouldn’t be her if she wasn’t a mage. Simon wouldn’t be Simon if he wasn’t bi. 

The mistake Simon and almost everyone else makes during this book is that they think of his wings as these separate entities. There is no gay part and straight part of Simon Snow. All of him is Simon. From the tips of his toes to the tops of his wings, all of him is Simon. He might’ve discovered this part of himself during a tragic point in his life, but that doesn’t mean it has to be something bad. It doesn’t have to be something tainted. 

Sometimes you discover things about yourself during the hardest moments of your life. When you’re already down in the dirt, beaten and bruised, sometimes a mirror is put in front of you and you realize something. You realize you’re trans. You realize you’re gay. And sometimes you resent those realizations because they came to you at the worst possible time. “This is just one more thing on my plate,” you think. 

This series is about reclaiming the things that where taken from you by the ones that hurt you. 

Simon’s going to have to learn to love his wings, because even though they remind him of something that hurts-- hurts more than anything-- they’re part of him. They are him, as much as the rest of his body is. Simon’s going to have to forgive himself, and learn to love himself for all that he is. 

Because all that he is is beautiful. 

We all know it; it’s time for him to understand that.

All right, bitches. Let’s get to the bit we all REALLY care about. this is the one that really fucks me up my dudes. Because it’s Brutal. But anyways here we go.

His wings are the Big Baz Love 

What are the two things that Simon’s  considering cutting off in this book?

“That’s what I’m going to say when I break up with Baz.”

“Dr. Wellbelove said he could remove the wings. And the tail. Whenever I’m ready.”

(Chapter 2, Epilogue)

Yikes!

My guys..... Simon and Baz don’t kiss unless Simon’s wings are out.

I truly do not understand how some of you are out here saying Simon’s gonna lose his wings I really don’t. It’s stressful. I’m stressed. Ms. Rainbow Rowell, you have me stressed. 

His Wings! Are! His Love!

On Love’s Light Wings!

Goatman dances his nasty little fingers all over the bridge that is Baz’s ass? Wings out, uses his tail to help kill the guy. Lamb is hitting on Baz too much? 

“’Spell my wings off.’”

(Chapter 45)

In the airport, when a lady is giving them the “don’t be gay” stink eye he immediately checks to make sure his tail is hidden. 

Baz can’t spell his wings off, guys. 

Baz can’t spell his wings away.

“’Snow needs you to cast your angel spell on him. I hid his wings for breakfast, but they’re still there.’“

(Chapter 19)

In Chapter 41, the biggest kiss scene we get, Simon wraps his wings around Baz to hold him. He’s embracing him in his love guys. Guys. 

Have you people noticed how i’m suddenly less articulate? It’s because i’m in crisis. Set me on fire I wouldn’t notice. I’ve been living with this terrible knowledge.

The first scene we finally see them kiss is after the scene at the Ren Faire when Simon’s wings are finally out and he finally got to fly.

“Simon catches up with me and traps me against the car. He’s kissing me before I see it coming.” 

Simon is so dtf in this scene Penny throws a water bottle at them, and it hits him in the wing. 

“’So hot,’ Simon Says. ‘Got to see you fight without picking a fight with you myself.’

Bunce throws a plastic bottle over my shoulder, and it smacks Simon in the wing.”

(Chapter 22)

She had to smack him right in the love for him to calm down, my dudes, my guys. Do you realize how hard it was for me to annotate this goddamn book with this knowledge? Every. Single. Time. Simon stretches a wing or flaps them around it’s about Baz. It gets to the point where you have to put the book down or you’re gonna explode. 

Simon’s wings are always out around Lamb. He’s jealous as hell and he hates that motherfucker’s guts. The only real injuries Simon sustains in this book are to his wings and they’re almost always when Baz gets hurt too. 

When did Simon get his wings? Only a day after he first kissed Baz.

Simon’s love for Baz is so big and so obnoxious he can’t hide it. His wings and tail have spikes, because that’s all Simon knows. He’s rough around the edges, he’s been hurt, he’s been used.

He’s never been in love before.

His love is spiky; it’s loud. It’s hotrod red and you can’t miss it when it’s out. Baz can’t see it, because Simon’s tucked it away. He hasn’t flown with it. He hasn’t wrapped it around Baz in so long. He doesn’t know how to handle a love this big, where to put it, when to unfurl it. 

Simon gets jealous. He gets scared. He’s insecure. He wants so dearly to finally give to someone instead of feeling like he’s just giving in. Like he’s still just taking from Baz.

What do you do with wings? 

How do you find somewhere safe to fly?

The Resolution.

I said earlier that if Carry On is a story of self-discovery, Wayward Son is a story of self-acceptance.

Simon has to love himself, and learn that his love for Baz is a good thing. As he accepts himself (and his dragon powers evolve go read my dragon simon meta it’s good.) he’s going to start to shine. 

This is a story being told to us with nothing but love. This is a story about a boy that’s his own worst enemy-- as all of us often are. It’s so scary to accept our wings. It’s so scary to accept our fangs. Especially when they’ve come out of such a hideous occurrence. 

We need to accept these dark times and acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, we were made more beautiful because of them. Maybe the light we give after we’ve been in darkness is more vibrant, because we know how scary the dark is. The things that happened to us were horrible, and hideous, and terrifying, but we aren’t. We’re different from how we were before, but we’re still beautiful. 

Simon Snow is going to accept himself.

Simon Snow is going to accept his past.

Simon Snow is going to finally, finally tell Baz he loves him.

And for the first time, Simon Snow is going to see that he’s beautiful.

If you’ve liked this meta you should also check out this one where i explain how they’re finally gonna get their relationship together. Also the one about the scarf

Special thank you to @singerofsimplesongs for listening to me howl and screech about this damn thing. 

Tagging some people that might be interested!

@neck-mole @watfordwallflower @carrybits @theflyingpeach @fight-surrender @shitty-posty-times @wisest-girl @slaying-fictional-dragons @gucciglitzy

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH3

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 3: Resurrection Overture (III)

Qi Leren stood in front of the door that had once made him beyond salvation.

After the huge stone door, Maria’s sword was held high and the black dragon was crucified. Seven days ago, there was a former friend sitting on the throne that belonged to the Pope, smiling at him.

Now that I think about it, I still feel like I had a nightmare.

Worried that there was some unknown danger inside, Qi Leren removed "Devil Etiquette", changed it to the perception skill "Rain-Day Clothing", put his hand on the stone door, and pushed it gently. The stone door opened almost automatically before his eyes.

Maria and the black dragon were still there, but the metal sword in Maria’s hands had ceased to exist. Qi Leren's eyes fell to the blood on the ground, and the dragged blood seemed to bring back the scene before his death.

He took a step and wanted to go there, but the first step made this dead and broken church glow with incredible changes—

The statue of Maria exuded bright light, and countless cracks spread from its head. Qi Leren stared at this horrible scene and the cracks became more and more dense, spreading from Maria to the immortal body of the black dragon. The two statues with a height of more than ten meters were destroyed in an instant by time, turning into countless fragments and dust that poured down, rushing to the earth like waterfalls!

The entire site of the Vatican collapsed in a frantic tremor.

During this collapse, Qi Leren, who had been knocked down by the shock wave, looked towards the Maria.

Maria's phantom stood there, holding an object that seemed to be a scepter in both hands and coming towards him.

The ground shook so much that Qi Leren couldn't stand up at all, but Maria's phantom came to him as if on flat ground and handed the thing in her hand to him: "Please, bring this to the Prophet, you must give it to him personally."

"Who is the Prophet? Where is he?" Qi Leren asked, confused.

"He is in the judge’s seat of the Twilight Township. If you meet Ning Zhou, don't let Ning Zhou touch this thing and don't let him see it," Maria said.

Qi Leren looked down at what Maria gave him and held out his hand. The name of this item was [Scepter of Hell], which was made of metal, heavy and dangerous. There was a huge groove at the top of the scepter and the gem originally embedded in it had disappeared, leaving only this metal scepter with evil power. This was an extremely powerful and fearful demon item, which can even pollute the power of faith.

"I understand, I will give it to the Prophet." Qi Leren understood that the matter was important, so he put away this scepter and solemnly agreed.

"Thank you." Maria smiled, leaned over Qi Leren, and left a gentle kiss on his forehead.

The gentle kiss was like the blessing of God. Countless golden and silvery spots spread from Maria and she began to become blurred. However, these spots rushed into Qi Leren's body and he suddenly felt himself immersed as if in a hot spring. The warm energy soothed his stiff and tired body, injecting vitality and vigor into him again.

Indulged in this comfortable power, Qi Leren forgot where he was until an angry roar came from above: "How dare you! Maria! Again and again you have... I will not let you go!"

The Witch of Desperation, who found the body of the Devastator destroyed, roared. Storm clouds condensed with thunder and lightning and the terrible demon energy brewed the power of death. Countless bats came at them!

Maria nodded to Qi Leren languidly: "Good boy, go, remember my words."

Saying this, a bright white light rose from Qi Leren's feet, pierced through the dark clouds in the sky, and wrapped around Qi Leren to fly him towards the distant land of dusk.

In this dazzling silvery white light, Qi Leren felt his body float uncontrollably just like in the dream before, rising higher and higher, and the white world was full of magnificent and majestic vitality, solemn and quiet. Wrapped in the holy light, he flew in the sky like a gliding bird, moving forward in a pure white.

Suddenly an ethereal music sounded ahead. Qi Leren woke up from his dreamy state and looked in the direction of the music.

Countless little angels with flowers and musical instruments in their hands flew out of a magnificent gate, joyfully spreading petals and playing graceful music. That gate seemed to be the door to Eden. From the open gate, he could see a garden full of flowers. Angels holding musical instruments were playing the piano and singing songs by the fountain, singing praises to Father God.

A petite young female angel came out of the garden and her feet lightly landed on the clouds, smiling at Qi Leren.

Qi Leren tried to see her face clearly, but she seemed to be a light-year away from him.

"I am the Prophet," she said. "Give it to me."

Qi Leren's eyes were empty and that person's voice seemed to be God's will, which made him want to obey her orders involuntarily.

Give the Scepter of Hell to the Prophet, and she is the Prophet... This was firmly rooted in his mind.

Qi Leren took the Scepter of Hell in his hand without thinking.

[Rain-Day Laundry: At present, the remaining sensing times are 2/3.]

Qi Leren suddenly woke up. How could he believe that this unknown person was the Prophet?! This brainwashing power was simply terrible! He almost handed over this thing!

"Hmm?" The angel on the other side let out a confused hum as the projection of an archangel emerged behind Qi Leren, holding a rapier to cut the heavenly gate.

In a blaze of holy light, the world was silently torn apart and all the dreamy things in front of him disappeared in an instant.

Under the curious gaze of hundreds of millions of human beings and demons, this white holy light that shone in an arc across the sky paused for a moment in a cloud of black mist, then pierced the darkness and continued to fly towards the Village of Dusk on the eastern coast.

In the garden of Dawn.

"An unexpected miss. It’s not enough to use the avatar projection in front of him, I was too hasty," the petite woman sighed.

"You can't stop using the field’s power. After all, it’s the last of the Holy Nun’s power," the man taking a slow sip of wine said lightly.

"But to use ‘Utopia’, it will be weakened after being pierced by that holy light, it’ll do more harm than good. Forget it. Anyway, I already know that thing’s whereabouts, I’ll just ask others to keep it for the time being," the woman said and smiled again. "But that child you like is quite vigilant."

The red wine in the goblet was swirled gently, its thick red color like blood.

"People with secrets will always be more vigilant. I really wonder how many secrets he still hides."

The Village of Dusk on the east coast was shrouded in the afterglow of sunset all year round.

On the long coastline, Chen Baiqi was smoking on the seawall and her sister Sissi was catching crabs. Suddenly, she found a shiny stone. She screamed with surprise and took the stone to Chen Baiqi: "This is beautiful, I want to show it to Xiaozhi!"

Chen Baiqi glanced at the stone, but it was only a rare sea stone. She rubbed her sister's hair: "Okay."

"But I haven't seen Xiaozhi for a long time." Sissi was worried about her little friend. "Is it the Prophet who won't let him out?"

"Maybe," Chen Baiqi replied absently, full of melancholy. "We’ll go home in ten minutes and go to the Undead Island in the afternoon."

Sissi cocked her head and suddenly realized: "Is it Qi Leren’s seventh day?"

Chen Baiqi responded gently and let out a sigh.

The little girl who didn't know her sister's worries kicked the sand under her feet and muttered, "Why did he die?"

"People will always die," Chen Baiqi said lightly.

Sissi felt her sister's heavy heart and took her arm obediently. She was well protected by Chen Baiqi, but that didn't mean she didn't know anything. She had met many of Chen Baiqi's customers. Those young men and women came to her store to buy what they needed. Some of them came very often while others came rarely, but gradually these people disappeared.

Those who had disappeared had never returned again. There would always be new faces coming and disappearing like those people.

Sissi remembered that when she was a little girl, a beautiful little sister always brought her delicious candy which was wrapped in colorful cellophane, and each one was sweet. She loved the candy brought by that little sister. Every time, she had collected these beautiful candy wrappers and put them in a small tin box until she had saved a whole box.

Then one day, when she saw the tin box, she suddenly remembered that she had not seen the little sister for a long time. She asked Chen Baiqi several times, and Chen Baiqi was silent for a long time, saying that she would help her find out.

She happily went back to her room, folded a string of paper cranes with those cellophanes, and prepared to give it to the little sister.

But in the end, she could only give the folded paper cranes to her tombstone.

On the Undead Island, which was just outside the Village of Dusk, the warm sunlight had illuminated her tombstone with her name on it and the days she had lived. There were only two simple lines that summarized a person's short life.

She had felt that she wasn’t very sad, but at the thought that she would never eat that delicious candy again, she had burst into tears.

Later, she learned where to buy this delicious candy that tasted sweet, but it wasn't from that little sister, so she didn't like it anymore.

She thought that, in fact, she didn't like that kind of candy very much, she just missed the little sister.

It was a carefree little girl who taught her the meaning of death for the first time.

"Jiejie*, you seem to have liked him very much?" Sissi asked.

*{E/N: “older sister”}

Chen Baiqi smoked a cigarette and the smoke blew away in the sea breeze: "Because a friend of mine likes him very much."

"How much did you like him?" Siss smiled and asked, "Does jiejie like me so much?"

Chen Baiqi looked at her sister's innocent face, smiled, and kissed her face: "Maybe I liked him more than jiejie likes you."

Sissi gave a "wow": "You must’ve liked him very much."

However, Sissi was a little sad again: "How sad will your friend be now that he’s dead?"

Chen Baiqi could not speak and her hand holding the cigarette was shaking. There was a little bit of sweet pain in the sour despair; even if it was just a bystander like her, she was almost suffocating.

She wouldn't be able to forget for the rest of her life. On that rainy day, Ning Zhou, who had gone to the Holy City with Qi Leren, suddenly returned to the Village of Dusk and knocked on her door. She was puzzled, but was shocked by Ning Zhou's calm dead eyes. Ning Zhou had braved the heavy rain and told her what had happened. Then, despite her dissuasion, he resolutely went to Neverland. He didn't even know whether he could survive the torture of the spiritual enchanment, or if it would leave him sleeping in the cold tundra forever.

Fortunately, Ning Zhou's tombstone had yet to appear on the Undead Island. It seemed that he had successfully arrived at his soul’s former hometown, bid farewell to it, and went to a world full of thorns and sufferings.

Thinking this, she suddenly heard Sissi let out a loud scream. Chen Baiqi raised her head and looked at the sky in astonishment—in the far west, there was a bright light streaking across the sky, magnificent, holy, and unparalleled, and all the places it passed were the projections of heaven. It stopped over the Village of Dusk and turned into a vertical beam of light.

A huge projection of an archangel appeared in the void, behind which countless wings danced slowly in the setting sun, almost covering the sunset. The wings were dying, like a white rain, and the projection of the archangel was getting weaker and weaker. He put his hands on his chest, bowed toward the distance, and disappeared into the golden red sunset.

Sissi was stunned. After being shocked, Chen Baiqi’s mind suddenly raised countless thoughts: Which of the Holy See's field-level masters had come to Dusk? The place of arrival also happened to be in the spot where the Prophet had landed at dusk... No, it should be just residual energy. If it was really a field-level master, they would not reveal such a big movement at all. And the Court’s enchantment has not been alarmed... Who was it?

"Sissi, go home, I'll check it out and I'll be right back," Chen Baiqi said, and inserted a card into her card slot. A projected book turned to a certain page in her hand. A white unicorn appeared beside her and she turned around to mount the horse. The winged unicorn flew in the air to the place where the projection of the archangel had landed.

She arrived at her destination in less than half a minute due to the short distance. On the rolling sea waves of the beach, a confused figure was looking in all directions at a loss. Seeing Chen Baiqi approach, he waved at her in surprise and ran quickly to her.

Chen Baiqi's cigarette butt fell to the ground, and shock and joy were intertwined. She couldn't wait to express her incredible mood with 10,000 swear words: "Shit Qi Leren, aren't you fucking dead?!”

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[yourdeepestfathoms]

we poured mud through their veins (part one)

the first installment of an au i am in love with 

in which a new member joins the Deetz-Maitland family!

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

The sky was the color of the ocean- dark, wild, and swallowing everything in its wake. The only thing that could possibly rival its impenetrable wall of thick black-blue were the occasional cracks of blazing lightning that split the roiling clouds like a hot knife. The storm would be cut in half at the flash of its searing glory, then sewed itself back together like a monstrous, watery wound. The wind was so fierce that it seemed to be sent by an enraged being (in which Delia would helpfully say it was “God” or “angels playing bowling”) to punish Winter River for some unruly sin. Water rushed down the streets like baby rivers, threatening to drag anything and anyone in its way down the asphalt with it. Raindrops battered windows and walls and doors, knocking so viciously like an unwanted guest.

An unwanted guest. That was what this damn storm was. And Lydia was at her wit’s end with this elemental stranger.

Her computer crashed for the third time and she finally slammed the lid close, letting out a miserable groan that was soon challenged by a deep rumble of thunder. She cringed, curling her shoulders in, and then sighed.

 “Fuck this storm,” She growled.

 “Language,” Barbara said from the kitchen.

 “Sorry,” Lydia muttered. “Screw this storm.”

Barbara chuckled lovingly. “Better.” She peered over at the closed laptop. “Everything okay?”

 “It keeps crashing,” Lydia said miserably. “And I’m finally not procrastinating on doing my essay!”

 “You had an essay due?” Adam looked at Lydia sharply, yanking his head out from the spice cabinet.

Lydia smiled innocently. “Maaaybe,” She said. She noticed the stern expression on Adam’s face. “Hey, I’m doing it! So don’t worry!”

 “Hmm,” Adam squinted at her suspiciously. “Seems like you planned this.”

 “What? Me? Never!” Lydia said.

Barbara laughed again and then turned back to the pot she was stirring. “What’s your essay on?”

 “Well, my English class needed to write something that had to do with society or the ecosystem,” Lydia explained. “So I chose to do mine on why the eighth amendment should be abolished!”

Barbara and Adam blinked at her proud expression.

 “Reason?” Adam asked.

 “If we don’t have the eighth amendment, then we can torture rapists,” Lydia said confidently.

Barbara and Adam then nodded in agreement.

It had been nine months since the whole incident with the ghosts, and it was honestly some of the best months of Lydia’s entire life. Not only did the Maitlands officially become part of the family, but Beetlejuice stuck around, too, becoming Lydia’s chaotic best friend and older brother figure, at least after being properly “housebroken” as her father would describe it. Waking up each morning always greeted her with new mayhem from one of the otherworldly tenants and more things she could learn about them. It was incredible.

They were a family.

 “It’s really coming down out there.”

Lydia looked over her shoulder to see Delia standing at the back door, sipping a steaming cup of her weird herbal tea (which tasted disgusting, by the way).

 “It’s what you would call ‘Noah’s Arc’,” Barbara said knowingly. Except her ‘knowledgeable’ comment got a weird look from Lydia and a laugh from Adam and Delia.

 “Noah’s Arc was the, well, arc, honey,” Adam said. “Not the storm. But nice try.”

 “It’s so foggy,” Delia commented. “The river may flood at this rate.”

Foggy.

Fog.

That word always sparked a memory in Lydia’s mind.

The Netherworld.

Lydia remembered the Netherworld clearly.

The air there had been wet and heavy, like she was breathing in a thick fog that stuck to her throat like tar. There was a certain sticky humidity in that dark place, pressing down on her in heavy waves, as if the very atmosphere itself was trying to crush her skull, punishing her for even plucking up the courage to step foot in the place where the Living didn’t belong. It was cold, yet uncomfortably warm at the same time, with no wind blowing to ease the mild heat that had settled its oppressive, sultry murk over the Dead’s civilization. It spilled into every street, every alleyway, every house that dared to open the window, thinking that it would help with the clamminess that fogged their home, but to no avail.

This, of course, had brought upon complete and utter dreariness that coated every Dead making their rounds through their daily lives. And, in reaction to her presence, the gloom tried to wrap its dark protections of the underworld around her in layers that pressed deeply into her skin, trying to become a part of her. It adorned her until she was nearly suffocated in the thick, moist air.

She did not belong there.

The Netherworld had been filled with enough freaks to make a whole circus- a suicidal beauty pageant queen with slashed open wrists, a failed skydiver in a shredded jumpsuit, a lady swathed in a smoldering towel and had hair crackling hair that hugged a toaster to her chest, a charred man who breathed smoke like a great fire dragon, a very confused football player, a man with a huge cleaver lodged in his skull as a sign of his infidelity, a gravely-injured jockey that spit blood when she talked, some kind of hunter with a shrunken head, and a very excitable victim of explosion, among many more that Lydia hadn’t seen. Not that she was surprised at the amount of strange characters in the underworld.

Aside from the beauty pageant queen, the jockey was the Dead that Lydia got to know the most. Even for the short amount of time she was down in the Netherworld , the jockey seemed to grow attached to her, talking to her animatedly as if they had been friends for years and hanging onto her arm like a baby koala would to its mother. She learned that her name was Presley.

And Lydia had to leave Presley behind.

It wasn’t because she wanted to- she had to! Presley said it herself: the living didn’t belong in the Netherworld. But still, it kinda hurt to leave her new friend behind.

But she got over it. And she moved on. And she got a new family that made her completely forget about the undead horse rider.

Lydia’s memories were then interrupted by a terrible crash of thunder that seemed to rip the entire town in half. The sound rang in all of their ears, even causing Lydia to snap her hands up to cover her own, much to her embarrassment, and making Adam phase straight into the drywall of the kitchen in reaction to the shock, and the sonic boom that followed rocked the house from side-to-side.

As the rumble faded and the lights overhead flickered, there was a heavy thud from upstairs.

From Lydia’s room.

Lydia groaned. “That’ll probably be Beej,” She said. “Messing with my stuff. Again. Probably thought the thunder could cover up the sound of him setting some kind of prank.” She turned her head to yell up the staircase as she stood up. “But not this time!”

She heard Barbara, Adam, and Delia laugh as she walked upstairs.

As quietly as possible, Lydia snuck up the stairs and to her bedroom. Inside, she could hear shuffling and a muttering voice.

Someone was in there.

Wanting to scare Beetlejuice for trying to prank her again, she grasped the doorknob, slowly pushed open the door, and peeked in at the demon in her bedroom.

The light from the lamp that she had left on fed into his white and red suit, soaking into the filthy fabric. He kept looking this way and that, the helmet he was wearing shifting against his head, and-- that was not Beetlejuice.

But Lydia did know this person.

White-and-red checkered shirt, white pants, gloves, black riding boots, a helmet with a crack straight down the middle, a crop holstered to narrow hips, old blood and hoofprints all over…

 “Presley?!” Lydia yelped out loud, then quickly shut her mouth. She stepped fully into her room and closed the door behind her. A moment later, the undead jockey was in her arms, clinging to her in a way that felt more like how a drowning woman to cling to the side of a boat than a normal hug between reuniting friends.

Except she didn’t feel undead. She felt warm, solid, real…living.

She was living.

But…that shouldn’t have been possible.

 “Presley…” Lydia said slowly. “How are you here?”

Presley looked up at her, the rim of her helmet sliding into her eyes slightly, then glanced all around. When she turned her head back up to Lydia, she seemed equally as confused. There was a stream of dried blood trickling down between her eyes and on one side of her nose. There was another scoring her right temple.

 “I don’t-- I don’t know,” Presley whispered, and her voice was hoarse and weak. She then sucked in a sharp breath and coughed. Lydia realized this must have been the first time she had breathed in a long while.

 “Well, that’s…confusing…” Lydia said. She batted Presley backwards so she would be away from the door. Presley clung onto her arm with one hand like it was her lifeline. “I thought you were dead? Like, really dead?”

 “Yeah…” Presley shifted. “I would know.”

Lydia laughed slightly. “What happened? How did this happen?”

Presley shrugged helplessly. “Your guess is as good as mine. I was just sitting in my room, crying, as I usually am, and then I fell asleep and now I’m here!” She looked around. “Nice room, by the way.”

 “Thanks,” Lydia said. She glanced at her door. “Okay, well…” She ran a hand through her hair. “This…will cause some issues.”

 “Oh.”

Presley took a shuffling step backwards and unholstered her crop, which she began to fidget with nervously. Lydia thought it was strange- wasn’t that the thing that basically caused her untimely demise? How could she be comfortable with even having it on her person after that?

 “Sorry…”

 “Hey, it’s not your fault,” Lydia assured her. “How were you supposed to know that you were going to…come back to life?”

 “Heh. Yeah.” Presley smiled slightly at her, which then turned into a grimace of pain. “May I sit down?”

 “Yeah, of course,” Lydia said, and Presley instantly dropped down to her knees. Her breathing came out strained and ragged. “Are you alright?”

Presley gave her a weak smile, and there was blood in her teeth and blood on her lips and blood on her tongue. “Yeah, yeah… I’ll be fine.”

 “Are you sure?” Lydia prodded, crouching down in front of her. “You don’t look so good.”

 “Well, you know how I died,” Presley said, sitting up from her hunched position. She pressed a hand against the left side of her ribs, wincing. “Wasn’t exactly very, ahh, pretty…” She swallowed.

 “Your wounds didn’t heal after you came back to life?” Lydia said. “I guess that’s what we’re calling this. But you didn’t get a fresh new start?”

Presley shook her head. She unbuttoned her jockey uniform and opened up one flap, the cloth making a disgusting peeling sound as it detached from her skin, to reveal the dark black abyss that was her trampled chest. Looking at it, even in the lamp’s golden glow, Lydia couldn’t tell where one wound ended and another wound began. They were all- the bruises and the lacerations and the welts and the hoofprints- melted into one big blemish of agony upon the young jockey’s torso. For a moment, Lydia didn’t even see that she had a sports bra on because the fabric (it had been grey, once upon a time) was completely soaked in blood and blending in with the rest of the mess.  

 “Unfortunately, no,” Presley closed her shirt. “I suppose it’s a fair trade. Being brought back for a second chance at life, but I have to live with the effects of how I died in the first one. Actually, that isn’t as fair as I thought. My internal organs had definitely been ruptured when--” She stopped talking and looked down at her stomach grimly.

 “Well, that…sucks,” Lydia said. She glanced at her door again. How was she going to explain this to her family?

 “Lydia!”

And speaking of the devils…

Lydia turned back to Presley. “Ready to meet my family?”

Presley perked up. “Really?”

 “You don’t exactly have anywhere else to go,” Lydia said. “And you’re here, aren’t you? One more supernatural being living in our house won’t hurt!”

Presley tilted her head, and her helmet slumped over on her skull with the movement. “There are others?”

Lydia grinned. “Yep,” She said. “I got pretty much the coolest family.”

 “Lydia!”

 “Coming!” Lydia called back to the voice yelling for her. She looked back at Presley. “I’m going to go talk to them first. I’ll call down for you once they’re ready. Just be cool, okay? They’ll like you.”

At least, she hoped they would. Presley didn’t have anywhere else to go if they didn’t.

Delia, Barbara, Adam, and Charles, who had emerged from his office, were all assembled downstairs, preparing for dinner. Barbara smiled at Lydia when she came down.

 “Did you find BJ?” Barbara asked.

 “How long did it take to dismantle the prank?” Adam asked, sounding amused.

 “What prank?” Beetlejuice materialized beside Charles, nearly making him drop the bowl of spaghetti he had been carrying to the table. He looked at him. “Sorry, Chuck.” He looked back at Lydia. “Now, what about a prank?”

All eyes turned to Lydia, and Lydia couldn’t help but feel like she was being interrogated, which was weird because she hadn’t done anything wrong. The ghost of a jockey who got killed during a race appearing in her bedroom as a living person wasn’t her fault! That was nobody’s fault!

 “It turns out there was no prank,” Lydia said.

 “Then what fell?” Delia asked.

 “Yeah, about that…” Lydia glanced up the staircase. She faintly saw Presley hovering in the hallway. “Remember that one time we went to the Netherworld?”

 “Yes,” Charles said. “It was the worst place ever.”

 “Oh god,” Beetlejuice said. “Is this another lecture? I already said I’m sorry!”

 “No, no, this isn’t about that,” Lydia said quickly. “While I was there, I met this girl. We kinda became friends, but, you know, I had to come back here so I haven’t seen her since.”

 “Where is this going?” Adam asked, looking curious and slightly concerned.

 “What if I told you guys that my friend came back to life somehow and appeared in my bedroom for no real rhyme or reason but now she’s here and has nowhere else to go?”

The house went quiet. Thunder rumbled outside, as if the very universe itself were laughing about the situation.

And then--

 “WHAT?” Adam yelped.

 “That can happen?” Delia said at the same time, looking at Beetlejuice.

 “I guess!” Beetlejuice yelled.

 “Wait, so there’s someone in our house right now?” Charles asked.

 “Surprise!” Lydia said weakly. She looked up the staircase. “You can come down now.”

There was shuffling from upstairs; Presley emerged into the light of the open stairwell and staggered her way down the stairs, each step she took being punctuated by a wince. There were several gasps, mainly from Barbara, Delia, and Adam, as she stopped next to Lydia- not that Lydia blamed her family for their reactions.

Presley looked much, much worse in full lightning. Her skin was no longer pale pink like it had been in the Netherworld, rather just pale, as if all the blood was drained from her body and leaving her as an empty shell. Even her lips were completely leached of color. It was impossible to tell if the dark rings around her eyes were from sleep deprivation or were just shiners caused by her death. Her jockey uniform was slathered in a thick caking of mud--and then Lydia realized most of that was just dried blood. Black hoofprints were stamped up and down her chest, stomach, and legs, and some areas of the fabric were ripped, revealing grimy, bruised, and bloodied flesh underneath. The streams of blood down her face and side of her head were completely dried now, crusted over and flaking off. She was squeezing her crop nervously, bright hazel eyes darting everywhere around the house, but she quickly latched onto Lydia’s arm with one of her hands, holding on tightly, similarly to how she did down in the Netherworld when they first met. 

 “Everyone…” Lydia said to her gaping family. “Meet Presley!”