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mr-t-stark · 3 months ago
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~ 𝓉𝑜𝓃𝓎 & 𝒶𝓋𝒶 ~
"You know I only agreed to this because I am friends with Natasha," Ava says as the elevator door closes infront of her and Nick Fury. Ava didn´t like new people, so she did need someone she knew if she was going to join. He looks at Ava with an annoyed expression, Ava smiling sweetly back at him, because he didn´t know about her anxiety issues. "I don't care if you're the president. I'm not changing just because I'm going to be saving people," She points out making Fury roll his eyes and look straight ahead. Ava liked being all sassy and flirty and tough around people. Then she could break down alone in peace. "Just try to be nice? I know Natasha puts up with your shit, but not everyone will," He says, making Ava nod slowly. Truly? Fury intimidated her, however probably most people did. But Ava was intimidated by most when she didn´t know them, that why she used her sass and brattiness and flirting to get ahead without issues. And the fact that she had ADHD probably didn´t help with the fact that she just simply didn´t like doing things wrong. So if she got the impression she wasn´t liked or something like that, she pulled away instantly.
"I can't wait for you to meet her. She's the life of the party," Natasha says and sips her water, pacing a bit as she waited for her friend to arrive, but then she did and Natasha smiled and walked over. "Ava! I´m so glad you finally agreed to join! I can´t stand all the testosterone," she spoke making Ava snort. "Yeah, I can see that," she spoke before going around the room greeting everyone, however when she came to Tony she smirks and looked at him. "Anthony Stark. The playboy himself," she spoke and hummed. "You´re more handsome than I thought you would be," she spoke honestly and held her hand out for him to shake. "I´m Ava."
When Natasha had told the team about Fury recruiting a new member that happened to be a friend of hers, Tony had at first been skeptical. It's taken some time for him to get to know the team, build their dynamic, all that shit. And though he'd never admit it, he's becoming quite fond of them. They're growing on him. Sure, some people can act like dicks at times, but, well, he is one, too. Sometimes. Perhaps most of the time, if you asked Pepper. Arguably all of the time, if you asked his exes.
So the thought of a new member joining was... How does he put this? Unexpected, one could say. A new member entailed a lot of things.
But since Fury's decision was solid, he knew he had no say in it. Doesn't mean he didn't try to complain, though. Futilely.
Ava Thompson was her name, Natasha had told him. She didn't say anything else. Their history, how they met, who she actually is; only a brief description of her abilities, a 'you'll see', and a wink.
So, as any person would do, he looked into her records, her history, everything he could find with JARVIS' assistance. People call it 'a breach of privacy', he calls it 'using his abilities to ease his trust issues against new people'. Not the same thing.
She seemed pretty ordinary. Natasha said something about her being in some sort of magic cult or whatever. What was it? Karma touch? Something that sounded funny. He finds no trace of that.
But if anything, he finds nothing else that seemed suspicious. No ties with bad parties, no crime records, nothing to hint she may be some Nazi undercover or something.
So though he may be a little wary of whoever she may be, the information he's got of her so far does ease some of his nerves. Natasha seemed to have a positive impression of her, anyway.
When the day comes for them to meet this Ava Thompson, Tony is, and hopefully not visibly, a little uneasy. They're at the team's meeting room--aka The Doomed Room Of Inevitable Boredom, if Cap's endless rants about fire safety and stop, drop, and rolls is anything to go by--Tony sat where he usually is, fiddling idly with a pen.
He watches Natasha pace back and forth, muttering one thing or another. It's only a moment before he sees Fury, and a certain someone trailing at his side, enter through the door.
Natasha greets her, and she introduces herself to the team. Tony stays a bit behind, observing. His research seems to be accurate, visually. She looks like how he had expected her to look.
When she approaches him, however...
"The one and only," he replies with a boyish grin when she immediately recognises her. When she then starts to flirt, Tony sees it as a challenge. She accepts her hand with a firm shake. He lowers his voice and lays that Stark charm thick, taking a moment to look her up and down. "Honey, I'm more than what you see from those cameras."
He lets go of her hand, shoving his own in his pockets, and says, "Welcome to the team. Have you gotten a tour of this place?"
He's always one for some fun.
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solarishashernoseinabook · 1 year ago
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ID copied from below the cut for accessibility
ID: a digital fan-comic of Rolling with Difficulty, made up of four panels. Panel 1: Dani is holding a glowing gold bean, looking skeptical. She asks, "... So you're not fucking with me?" Panel 2: Finbar looks concerned, saying "I am DEAD SERIOUS." The words "dead serious" is in all caps.
Panel 3: A narration box used to represent Austin with the words "mysterious disembodied voice" beneath it is saying "Dani, maybe you should eat it, just to be sure", punctuated with a smiley face. Dani and Finbar look up at the narration box, Dani still skeptical while Finbar seems alarmed. An exclamation mark is between them.
Panel 4: Finbar is shaking Dani by the shoulders, yelling, "Do NOT ea -- No. NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. DO NOT --" with the first "not", the second "no", and the rest of the words from there in all caps. To the left is VR-LA, hand over his mouth like whispering, saying, "Where else are you going to put it? It's just one bean." While to the right is Kyana, smiling in concern while looking sideways, saying, "Even I know that's a bad idea...." End ID.
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Bean
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ID under the cut!
ID: a digital fan-comic of Rolling with Difficulty, made up of four panels. Panel 1: Dani is holding a glowing gold bean, looking skeptical. She asks, "... So you're not fucking with me?" Panel 2: Finbar looks concerned, saying "I am DEAD SERIOUS." The words "dead serious" is in all caps.
Panel 3: A narration box used to represent Austin with the words "mysterious disembodied voice" beneath it is saying "Dani, maybe you should eat it, just to be sure", punctuated with a smiley face. Dani and Finbar look up at the narration box, Dani still skeptical while Finbar seems alarmed. An exclamation mark is between them.
Panel 4: Finbar is shaking Dani by the shoulders, yelling, "Do NOT ea -- No. NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. DO NOT --" with the first "not", the second "no", and the rest of the words from there in all caps. To the left is VR-LA, hand over his mouth like whispering, saying, "Where else are you going to put it? It's just one bean." While to the right is Kyana, smiling in concern while looking sideways, saying, "Even I know that's a bad idea...." End ID.
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felassan · 5 months ago
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Edge – The Future of Interactive Entertainment magazine, issue #401 (October 2024 issue) – Dragon Age: The Veilguard story
The rest of this post is under a cut for length.
Update: this issue of this magazine is now available to buy from UK retailers today. it can be purchased online at [this link]. [Tweet from Edge Online] also, Kala found that a digital version of the magazine can be read at [this link].
This post is a word-for-word transcription of the full article on DA:TV in this issue of this magazine. DA:TV is the cover story of this issue. When transcribing, I tried to preserve as much of the formatting from the magazine as possible. Edge talked to BioWare devs for the creation of this article, so the article contains new quotes from the devs. the article is written by Jeremy Peel. There were no new screenshots or images from the game in the article. I also think that it contains a few lil bits of information that are new, like the bits on companions' availability and stumbling across the companions out and about on their own in the world e.g. finding Neve investigating an abduction case in Docktown.
tysm to @simpforsolas and their friend for kindly telling me about the article!!
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Article introduction segment:
"[anecdote about Edge] We were reminded of this minuscule episode in Edge's history during the creation of this issue's cover story, in which we discuss the inspiration behind Dragon Age: The Veilguard with its creators at BioWare. Notably, director John Epler remembers the studio experimenting with a number of approaches during the early phase of development before eventually locking in to what the game was supposed to be all along, above all else: 'a single-player, story-focused RPG'. As you'd expect from BioWare, though, that was really just a starting point, as we discovered on p54." BioWare draws back the Veil and ushers us into a new Dragon Age
"BEHIND THE CURTAIN BioWare's first true RPG in age age is as streamlined and pacey as a dragon in flight. By Jeremy Peel Game Dragon Age: The Veilguard Developer BioWare Publisher EA Format PC, PS5, Xbox Series Origin Canada Release Autumn
The Dragon Age universe wasn't born from a big bang or the palm of an ancient god. Instead, it was created to solve a problem. BioWare was tired of battling Hasbro during the making of Baldur's Gate and Neverwinter Nights, and wanted a Dungeons & Dragons-like setting of its own. A small team was instructed to invent a new fantasy world in which the studio could continue its groundbreaking work in the field of western RPGs, free of constraints.
Well, almost free. BioWare's leaders mandated that the makers of this new world stick to Eurocentric fantasy, and include a fireball spell - since studio co-founder Ray Muzyka had a weakness for offensive magic.
Beyond that, BioWare’s storytellers were empowered to infuse Dragon Age with their own voices and influences, leaning away from D&D’s alignment chart and towards a moral grayness that left fans of A Song Of Ice And Fire feeling warm and cozy.
In the two decades since, the world of Thedas – rather infamously and amusingly, a shortening of ‘the Dragon Age setting’ that stuck – has taken on a distinct flavor. It’s something director John Epler believes is rooted in characters.
“There’s definitely some standard fantasy stuff in Dragon Age, but everything in the world, every force, is because of someone,” he says. “The idea is that every group and faction needs to be represented by a person – someone you can relate to. Big political forces are fine as background, but they don’t provide you with those interesting story moments.”
Dragon Age: The Veilguard bears out that philosophy. The long-awaited sequel was first announced with the subtitle Dreadwolf, in reference to its antagonist, Solas – an ancient elf who once stripped his people of immortality as punishment for betraying one of their own. In doing so, Solas created the Veil, the thin barrier through which wizards pull spirits and demons invade the waking world. In other words, many of Dragon Age’s defining features, from its downtrodden elves to the uneasy relationship between mages and a fearful church, can be traced right back to one character’s decision.
“The world exists as it does because of Solas,” Epler says. “He shaped the world because of the kind of character he was. That’s, to me, what makes Dragon Age so interesting. Everything can tie back to a person who to some degree thought they were doing the right thing.”
Perhaps BioWare’s greatest achievement in slowburn character development, Solas is a former companion, an unexploded bomb who sat in the starting party of Dragon Age: Inquisition, introverted and useful enough to get by without suspicion. Yet by the time credits rolled around on the Trespasser DLC, players were left in no doubt as to the threat he presented.
Determined to reverse the damage he once caused, the Dreadwolf intends to pull down the Veil, destroying Thedas as we know it in the process. The next Dragon Age game was always intended to be his story.
“We set that up at the end of Trespasser,” Epler says. “There was no world where we were ever going to say, ‘And now let’s go to something completely different.’ We wanted to pay off that promise.”
Yet almost everything else about the fourth Dragon Age appears to have been in flux at one time. In 2019, reporter Jason Schreier revealed that an early version, starring a group of spies pulling off heists in the Tevinter Imperium, had been cancelled two years prior. Most of its staff were apparently moved onto BioWare’s struggling Anthem, while a tiny team rebooted Dragon Age from scratch. That new game was said to experiment with live-service components.
“We tried a bunch of different ideas early on,” Epler says. “But the form The Veilguard has taken is, in a lot of ways, the form that we were always pushing towards. We were just trying different ways to get there. There was that moment where we really settled on, ‘This is a singleplayer, story-focused RPG – and that’s all it needs to be’”.
Epler imagines a block of marble, from which BioWare was attempting to carve an elephant – a character- and story-driven game. “We were chipping away, and sometimes it looked more like an elephant and sometimes it didn’t”, he says. “And then we eventually realized: ‘Just make an elephant’. When we got to that, it almost just took shape by itself.”
2014’s Dragon Age: Inquisition was an open-world game commonly criticized for a slow-paced starting area which distracted players from the thrust of the plot. The Veilguard, in contrast, is mission-based, constructed with tighter, bespoke environments designed around its main story and cast. “We wanted to build a crafted, curated experience for the player,” Epler says. “Pacing is important to us, and making sure that the story stays front and center.”
Epler is very proud of Inquisition, the game on which he graduated from cinematic designer to a lead role (for its DLC). “But one of the things that we ran into on that project was an absentee antagonist,” he says. “Corypheus showed up and then disappeared. You spent ten hours in the Hinterland doing sidequests, and there wasn’t that sense of urgency.”
This time, The Veilguard team wants you to constantly feel the sword of Damocles dangling above your head as you play – a sense that the end of the world is coming if you don’t act. “There’s still exploration – there’s still the ability to go into some of these larger spaces and go off the beaten path to do sidequests,” Epler says. “But there’s always something in the story propelling you and the action forward, and allowing you to make decisions with these characters where the stakes feel a lot more immediate and present. And also, honestly, more real.”
No sooner have you finished character creation than Dragon Age: The Veilguard thrusts you into a choice. As your protagonist, Rook, steps into focus on the doorstep of the seediest bar in town, you decide whether to threaten the owner for information or make a deal. Brawl or no, you’ll walk out minutes later with a lead: the location of a private investigator named Neve Gallus, who can help you track down Solas.
You proceed into Minrathous, the largest city in Thedas and capital of the Tevinter Imperium – a region only alluded to in other Dragon Age games. It’s a place built on the backs of slaves and great mages, resulting in tiered palaces and floating spires – a kind of architecture unimaginable to those in the southern nations.
“When your Dragon Age: Inquisition companion Dorian joins you in Orlais, in one of the biggest cities in Thedas, he mentions that it’s quaint and cute compared to Minrathous,” Corinne Busche, game director on The Veilguard, says. “That one bit of dialogue was our guiding principle on how to realize this city. It is sprawling. It is lived-in. Sometimes it’s grimy, sometimes it’s bougie. But it is expansive.”
Immediately, you can see the impact of BioWare’s decision to tighten its focus. Around every other corner in Minrathous is an exquisitely framed view, a level of spectacle you would never see in Inquisition, where resources were spread much more thinly. “When you know that you’re gonna be heading down a canyon or into this plaza where the buildings open up, you have those perfect spots to put a nice big temple of Andraste or a mage tower,” art director Matthew Rhodes says. “You get those opportunities to really hit that hard.”
BioWare’s intention is to make strong visual statements that deliver on decades of worldbuilding. “People who have a history with Dragon Age have thought about what Minrathous might be like,” Rhodes says. “We can never compete with their imagination, but we can aim for it like we’re shooting for the Moon.”
The people of Tevinter use magic as it if were electricity, as evidenced by the glowing sigils that adorn the dark buildings – street signs evoking Osaka’s riverfront or the LA of Blade Runner. They’re just one of the tricks BioWare’s art team uses to invite you to stop and take in the scene. “A lot of what you start to notice when you’re the artist who’s been working on these big, beautiful vistas and neat murals on the walls is how few players look up,” Rhodes says. “We design props and architecture that help lead the eyes.”
For the really dedicated shoegazers, BioWare has invested in ray-traced reflections, so that the neon signage can be appreciated in the puddles. There are also metal grates through which you can see the storm drains below. “The idea behind that is purely just to remind the player often of how stacked the city is,” Rhodes says. “Wherever you’re standing, there’s guaranteed to be more below you and above you.”
One of BioWare’s core creative principles for The Veilguard is to create a world that’s actually worth saving – somewhere you can imagine wanting to stick around in, once the crises of the main quest are over. To that end, the team has looked to ground its outlandish environments with elements of mundanity.
“A guy’s normal everyday life walking down the streets of this city is more spectacular than what the queen of Orlais is seeing, at least in terms of sheer scale," Rhodes says. “One of the things we’ve tried to strike a balance with is that this is actually still a place where people have to go to the market and buy bread, raise their kids, and try to make it. It’s a grand and magical city, but how do you get your horses from one place to the next? Where do you load the barrels for the tavern? It’s really fun to think of those things simultaneously.”
Normal life in Minrathous is not yours to behold for long, however. Within a couple of minutes of your arrival, the very air is ripped open like cheap drapes, and flaming demons clatter through the merchant carts that line the city streets. A terrible magical ritual, through which Solas intends to stitch together a new reality, has begun.
“We wanted the prologue to feel like the finale of any other game we’ve done,” Busche explains. “Where it puts you right into this media-res attack on a city and gets you really invested in the action and the story right away. When I think back to Inquisition, how the sky was literally tearing open – the impact of this ritual really makes that look like a minor inconvenience.”
Our hero is confronted by a Pride demon, imposing and armored as in previous games, yet accented by exposed, bright lines that seem to burst from its ribcage. “They are a creature of raw negative emotion,” Busche says. “So we wanted to actually incorporate that into their visual design with this glowing nervous system.”
When a pack of smaller demons blocks Rook’s route to the plaza where Neve was last seen, battle breaks out, and The Veilguard’s greatest divergence from previous Dragon Age games becomes apparent. Our rogue protagonist flits between targets up close and evades individual sword swings with precision. In the chaos, he swaps back and forth between blades and a bow. He blends light and heavy attacks, and takes advantage of any gap in the melee to charge up even bigger blows.
“Responsiveness was our first-and-foremost goal with this baseline layer of the combat system,” Busche says. Unless you’re activating a high-risk, high-reward ability such as a charged attack, any action can be animation-cancelled, allowing you to abort a sword swing and dive away if an enemy lunges too close. “We very much wanted you to feel like you exist in this space, as you’re going through these really crafted, hand-touched worlds,” Busche says. “That you’re on the ground in control of every action, every block, every dodge.” Anyone who’s ever bounced off a Soulslike needn’t worry: The Veilguard’s highly customizable difficulty settings enable you to loosen up parry windows if they prove too demanding.
Gone is the overhead tactical camera which, for some players, was a crucial point of connection between Dragon Age and the Baldur’s Gate games that came before, tapping into a lineage of thoughtful, tabletop-inspired combat. Epler points out that the camera’s prior inclusion had an enormous impact on where the game’s battles took place. “We actually had a mandate on Inquisition, which was, ‘Don’t fight inside,’” he says. “The amount of extra work on getting that tactical camera to work in a lot of those internal environments, it was very challenging.”
Gone, too, is the ability to steer your comrades directly. “On the experiential side, we wanted you to feel like you are Rook – you’re in this world, you’re really focused on your actions,” Busche says. “We very much wanted the companions to feel like they, as fully realized characters, are in control of their own actions. They make their own decisions. You, as the leader of this crew, can influence and direct and command them, but they are their own people.”
It's an idea with merit, albeit one that could be read as spin. “It’s not lost on me,” Busche says. “I will admit that, on paper, if you just read that you have no ability to control your companions, it might feel like something was taken away. But in our testing and validating with players, what we find is they’re more engaged than ever.”
There may be a couple of reasons for that. One is that Dragon Age’s newly dynamic action leaves little room for seconds spent swapping between perspectives. “This is a much higher actions-per-minute game,” Busche says. “It is more technically demanding on the player. So when we tried allowing you full control of your companions as well, what we’ve found is it wasn’t actually adding to the experience. In fact, in some ways it was detrimental, given the demanding nature of just controlling your own character.”
Then there’s The Veilguard’s own tactical layer, as described by BioWare. Though the fighting might be faster and lower, like a mana-fuelled sports scar, the studio is keen to stress that the pause button remains as important to the action as ever. This is, according to Busche, where the RPG depth shines through, as you evaluate the targets you’re facing and take their buffs into account: “Matching elemental types against weaknesses and resistances is a big key to success in this game.”
You pick between rogue, warrior and mage – each role later splitting again into deeper specialisms – and draw from a class-specific resource during fights. A rogue relies on Momentum, which is built up by avoiding damage and being highly aggressive, whereas a warrior is rewarded for blocking, parrying, and mitigating damage.
Those resources are then used on the ability wheel, which pauses the game and allows you to consider your options. The bottom quadrant of the wheel belongs to your character, and is where three primary abilities will be housed. “Rook will also have access to runes, which function as an ability, and a special ultimate ability,” Busche says. “So you’re bringing five distinct abilities with you into combat.”
The sections to the left and right of the wheel, meanwhile, are dedicated to your companions. Busche points to Lace Harding, the returning rogue from Inquisition, who is currently frozen mid-jump. “She is her own realized individual in this game. She’s got her own behaviors: how she prioritizes targets, whether she gets up close and draws aggro or stays farther back at range. But you’ll be able to direct her in combat by activating her abilities from the wheel.”
These abilities are complemented by positional options at the top of the wheel, where you can instruct your companions to focus their efforts on specific targets, either together or individually. Doing so will activate the various buffs, debuffs and damage enhancements inherent in their weapons and gear. “So,” Busche explains, “as you progress through the first two hours of the game, this full ability wheel is completely populated with a variety of options and different tactics that you can then string together.”
BioWare has leaned into combos. You might tell one companion to unleash a gravity-well effect that gathers enemies together, then have another slow time. Finally, you could drop an AOE attack on your clustered and slowed opponents, dealing maximum damage. The interface will let you know when an opportunity to blend two companion abilities emerges – moments BioWare has dubbed ‘combo detonations’.
“I like to think about this strategic layer to combat as a huddle,” Busche says, “where you’re figuring out how you want to handle the situation, based on the information you have on the encounter, and how you and your companions synergize together.”
Deeper into the game, as encounters get more challenging, Epler says we’ll be spending a lot of time making “very specific and very focused tactical decisions”. The proof will be in eating the Fereldan fluffy mackerel pudding, of course, but Busche insists this shift to fast action isn’t a simplification. “What really makes the combat system and indeed the extension into the progression system work is that pause-and-play tactical element that we know our players expect.”
The autonomy of The Veilguard’s companions doesn’t end with combat. BioWare’s data shows that in previous games players tended to stick with the same two or three beloved comrades during a playthrough. This time, however, you’ll be forced to mix your squad up at regular intervals.
“We do expect that players will have favorites they typically want to adventure with,” Busche says, “but sometimes certain companions will be mandatory.” Others may not always be available – part of the studio’s effort to convince with three-dimensional characters. “They do have a life outside of Rook, the main character,” Busche says.
"They'll fall in love with people in this world. They’ve had past experiences they’ll share with you if you allow them in and get close to them.”
Being separated from your companions, rather than collecting them all in a kind of stasis at camp, allows you to stumble across them unexpectedly. Busche describes an instance in which, while exploring the Docktown section of Minrathous, you might bump into Neve as she investigates an abduction case. “If I go and interact with her, I can actually stop what I’m doing, pick up her arc and adventure with her throughout her part of the story,” Busche says. “What’s interesting is that all of the companion arcs do ultimately tie back to the themes of the main critical path, but they also have their own unique challenges and villains, and take place over the course of many different intimate moments.”
Some parts of a companion’s quest arc involve combat, while others don’t. Some are made up of large and meaningful missions – as lavish and involved as those along the critical path. “While they are optional, I would be hesitant to call them side content in this game,” Busche says. If you choose not to engage with some of these companion-centered events, they’ll resolve on their own. “And it might have interesting implications.”
The Veilguard promises plenty of change, then, even as it picks up the threads of fan-favorite characters and deepens them, honoring the decades of worldbuilding that came before it. This is perhaps the enduring and alluring paradox of Dragon Age: a beloved series which has never had a direct and immediate sequel, nor a recurring protagonist. Instead, it’s been reinvented with each new entry.
“It’s a mixed blessing to some degree,” Epler says. “The upside is always that it gives us more room to experiment and to try new things. There are parts of the series that are common to every game: it’s always an RPG, it’s always about characters, and we always want to have that strategic tactical combat where you’re forced to make challenging decisions. But at the end of the day, I think what makes Dragon Age Dragon Age is that each one feels a little bit different.”"
Q&A Matthew Rhodes Art director
Q. Early BioWare RPGs were literary, with the emotions and detail mostly happening in dialogue boxes. How have you seen the studio's approach to visual storytelling evolve? A. This has been my entire career. When I first showed up at BioWare, it was at the tail end of Jade Empire, and then I was working on Dragon Age: Origins and early Mass Effect. The games had taken that next step out of sprites and 2D models, and it was like: 'How do we say more? How do we communicate more clearly?' During those early days, a lot of games depended on words to fix everything for you. As long as your character was talking bombastically, you could lend them everything that they needed. But as time went on it also became a visual medium, and it's been this long journey of trying to establish art's seat at the table. I've worked with some great writers over the years, and art is also an essential part of the storytelling. From Dragon Age: Inquisition on, I've been trying to stress with my teams that we are a story department.
Q. Is part of that also letting writers know that your storytelling assistance is available, to help them show rather than tell? A. On The Veilguard, that principle has been operating the best I've seen it. Where you would need a paragraph of dialogue in one of those exposition moments where a character just talks to you, we could sell that with a broken statue or a skeleton overgrown with vines. We've had more opportunities to do that on The Veilguard than most of the projects I've ever worked on combined.
To a hammer, every problem looks like a nail, and so in every department, writing will try to solve it with more words, and art will try to solve it with more art. I've bumped up against moments where it's like, 'As much as we could keep hammering on this design, I think this is actually an audio solution.' And then you take it to audio, and you don't get that overcooked feeling where each team is just trying to solve it in their silo. It's a really creatively charged kind of environment.
[main body of article ends here]
Additional from throughout the article --
Image caption: “Spotlights shine down from the city guards’ base as they pursue you through the streets of Minrathous.”
Image caption: “While most of your companions can be sorted into comfortingly familiar RPG classes, The Veilguard introduces two new varieties: a Veil Jumper and a private investigator.”"
Image caption [on this Solas ritual concept art specifically]: “The name previously given to the game – Dreadwolf – was a direct reference to Solas. Your former companion, now on his own destructive mission, still features, despite the name change.”
Text in a side box:
"RATIONAL ANTHEM The hard lesson BioWare drew from Anthem was to play to its strengths. “We’re a studio that has always been built around digging deep on storytelling and roleplaying,” Epler says. “I’m proud of a lot of things on Anthem – I was on that project for a year and a half. But at the end of the day we were building a game focused on something we were not necessarily as proficient at. For me and for the team, the biggest lesson was to know what you’re good at and then double down on it. Don’t spread yourselves too thin. Don’t try to do a bunch of different things you don’t have the expertise to do. A lot of the people on this team came here to build a story-focused, singleplayer RPG."
Image caption: “In combat you no longer control your companions directly – this is a faster-paced form of fighting – but you are able to direct them in combat, and can even blend their abilities in ‘combo detonations’.”
Image caption: “You’ll be exploring new regions across Tevinter and beyond – Rivain is a certainty, and that’s only accessible via Antiva travelling overland.”
Image caption: “There are three specializations per character class; on the way to unlocking them you’ll acquire a range of abilities.”
Text in a side box:
"MEET YOUR MAKER “Full disclosure: Dragon Age has traditionally not done skin tones well, especially for people of color,” Busche says. “We wanted to do a make-good here.” In The Veilguard’s character creator, you can adjust the amount of melanin that comes through in the skin, as well as test various lighting scenarios to ensure your protagonist looks exactly as you intend in cutscenes. “Speaking of our first creative principle – be who you want to be – we really feel these are the kinds of features that unlock that for our players,” Busche says. “We want everyone to be able to see themselves in this game.” For the first time in the series, your body type is fully customizable too, with animations, armor and even romantic scenes reflecting your choices."
Image caption: “Your companions are a mix of old and new – Lace Harding is a familiar face. Veil Jumper Bellara is new, with a new occupation, while Davrin is a new face with a familiar profession – he’s a Warden.”
Image caption: "Arlathan Forest is home to the ruined city of the elves, now a place of wild magic, Veil Jumpers and (allegedly) spirits".
Image caption: "Bellara is driven by a desire to learn more about the elves, rediscovering the shattered history and magic of her people."
[source: Edge – The Future of Interactive Entertainment magazine, issue #401 (October 2024 issue) - it can be purchased online at [this link].]
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laurabenanti · 29 days ago
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I got a couple of asks on how I did the text transition in this set. I'm going to explain as best as I can (with image references).
*Disclaimer: this assumes you are have a basic understanding of giffing with video timeline, and keyframes. If you're new to keyframes, check out this tutorial by @userpeggycarter before proceeding.
Step 1: Go through, make your gif, color and all that jazz. if you're not familiar with giffing and need a guide, check this one out by @cal-kestis. Be mindful of the number of frames you have, as it is extremely important when keyframing begins. Make sure you have an even number of frames, or you will have an uneven transition. For this gif I'm at 60 frames total, and I'd be careful exceeding 70, as if you need to go back and delete... It just sucks, so be mindful! You'll see my gif and coloring under a group I titled "base" - and I highly recommend putting your gif/coloring/etc. into groups, as it will make the timeline a bit cleaner, and it's a little easier to find everything you need. But when you're done, you should be here:
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*Quick note 1: Make sure your gif is in 8-bit mode. If you aren't familiar with bit modes, that is a tutorial for another time. For now, you can change it here:
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Step 2.1: Pick your font/placement/etc. I really recommend being 100% on whatever you pick, along with the size. I've encountered problems when I move the font after the fact with alignment, so it's best to look your gif over to ensure you're satisfied. For this set, I went with Figtree, placed dead center.
I want to add to this by saying, thus far, I have found that white is the only color that works for this. I'm playing around with some other options, but black is 100% a no go. If you find a way to get that working, let me know. I'll amend this tutorial.
Photo of text settings, along with where you should be now.
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Step 2.2: Since we're transitioning into a new set of words/text, you need to get that text ready as well. Shorten the length of time the first piece of text runs to halfway (I have 60 frames, so I cut it to 30).
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Step 2.3: Duplicate your text layer, type your other text. The two texts should show for length of time, as you have an even number of frames, meaning you can divide by 2. Move it over to the end of where the previous text ends. If that makes no sense, it should look like the below: (again, folder for the typography to know where to reference. I have a small organization addiction so.. creator's choice)
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*Quick note 2: I do not recommend changing to a new font or size with this, it won't look quite right. Of course, experiment away! This is just a small caution based on my own experimentation.
Now, to get to the actual fun part...
Step 3.1: Duplicate the first text layer. For this gif, it's the one that says "it didn't change anything". Once you duplicate it, you'll be turning it into a smart object. This is so the filter we apply works. Repeat for the second text layer. Lil gif below:
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Quick note 3: I recommend going one text bit at a time, and also would tell you to put each typography layer into its own folder. This is really important for later, so doing it earlier is better.
Step 3.2: We will now apply the filter. To do this, you're going to click the smart object version of our text, then go to Filter → Stylize → Wind. For the gifset I made, I used Method → Blast and Direction → From the Right. Click "OK" and the filter will apply. Duplicate this for the other text layer.
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Step 4: We now begin the keyframing. I highly recommend the rule of 0.3, which is when your transitions are over the span of multiples of 3 (i.e. if you start at frame 1 with 100% opacity, frame 3 will be at 0%). We'll be doing 6 frames from 100% to 0%, and vice versa, for this transition. This was the best time I found for this transition, but it's a matter of preference. Just follow that rule of 3.
Step 4.1: Click the smart layer of the text we made on the timeline, then click the little arrow on the left of the name of the layer. You'll see this:
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See the little clock next to Opacity? Click it, and you get this lovely little yellow diamond. This is how we control the visibility of the Wind layer. It will start at 100%, keep it there.
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Click the arrow on the right of the play button 6 times (aka get to the 6th frame), click the stopwatch again. While on this frame, and the yellow diamond clicked, change the opacity of the Wind layer to 0% It'll look like this:
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You will repeat this, in reverse, at the end of the text layer.
Quick note 4: Sometimes, Photoshop is moody. To get the diamond on frame 30 (or whatever frame # the end of your text layer is), put it on the frame prior. You can then nudge that diamond over 1 frame. See below:
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Repeat the process for the other text layer.
Step 5: We're basically done! Change your gif from video timeline to frames, maybe do a quick play through to make sure all is well.
Quick note 4 (it's the last one I promise): I have heard from many that when they work with keyframes, they end up with duplicate frames. I, personally, have not encountered this issue. I do not know if it is because of the version of Photoshop others are using, PC vs. Mac, or some other secret third thing. I recommend that, when you check your gif, verify if there are duplicate frames. The keyframe tutorial I linked earlier goes into further detail, and here is another lovely explanation from Nik, the master of all things keyframe transitions.
Step 5.1: Export, and give yourself a high five because you deserve it.
If you have any questions, don't hesitate to reach out! I'll try to clarify anything if needed. Happy giffing!
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thesimline · 10 months ago
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1500s MEN - PART 1
Not only was Tudor men's fashion ostentatious, so were their beards and hairstyles. The ruff fashion trend saw hair lengths shorten to accommodate the oversized accessory. Hair styling could vary from lank and unkempt to exquisitely trimmed and tended. CC links and reference images under the cut.
You can find more of my historical content here:
1300s ✺ 1400s ✺ 1500s ✺ 1600s ✺ 1700s
1 - Florus by Merci (TSR)
2 - Lya by Candy Sims
3 - Maurice by Johnny Sims
4 - Trudy by Daylife Sims
5 - Rio by Aurum Musik (TSR)
6 - Depoofed Tiny Living Hair by Squeamish Sims
7 - Nap by Magpie San (TSR)
8 - Short Bangs by Rope
9 - Chamomile Bangs by Daylife Sims
10 - Echos by Rope
11 - Sophia by Go Amazons (TSR)
12 - Aaron by Kotcat
13 - Diana by Rusty's
14 - Carousel by Rope
15 - Leo by Wistful Castle (TSR)
16 - Louis by Dogsill
17 - Boy Meets Girl by Birksches
18 - The Altus by XLD Sims
19 - Charlie by Go Amazons (TSR)
20 - Joel's Curly Fro by Bob Newbie
21 - Curly Mop by Birksches
22 - Chin Waves for Him by Birksches
23 - Le Zephyr by Rope
24 - Craig by Magpie San (TSR)
25 - TS4 Male Hairstyle Crop by KIMSimjo (TSR)
26 - Ember by Okruee
27 - Gere by Birksches
28 - Jin by Saurus
29 - Columbo by Birksches
30 - Messy Bob by Sycko Sims
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With thanks to some amazing creators: @mercisims @candysims4 @johnnysimmer @daylifesims @squea @simsontherope @goamazons @kotcatmeow @rustys-cc @dogsill @xldsims @bobnewbie @saurussims @sycko @okruee
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jokeroutsubs · 26 days ago
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[📝ENG Translation]: Souvenir Pop Through the Eyes of Joker Out Members
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Original article written by Boštjan Tušek, published 27.11.2024 on 24ur. Photos by Miro Majcen. English translation by @kurooscoffee, review by drumbeat, proofread IG GBoleyn123.
Full translation under the cut 👇
We visited Joker Out in their rehearsal space, where the band members shared their thoughts on their new album and explained all the songs from their third full-length album, Souvenir Pop, in their own words. The album has already been released on digital platforms and CDs, and they are promising a vinyl edition as well.
About the Title SOUVENIR POP:
Bojan: We were sitting here in the rehearsal space, struggling to find a short, universally understandable way to summarise everything that happened to us during this time. After some serious thought, we realised that the music is essentially a collection of memories—“souvenirs”—that we’ve gathered. For the first time in our lives, we traveled so much and spent so much time away from home. Everything was very “pop,” and we lived out all the pop star dreams we used to admire. We shortened this journey into “pop,” making it a souvenir pop journey.
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Photo: Joker Out recently unveiled their third album, Souvenir Pop. Together with Bojan, Kris, Jan, Nace, and Jure, we analysed all the songs on the album. PHOTO: Miro Majcen.
On the Cover Photo Taken in Bed:
Jure: The cover photo was born long before the album got its title. It was captured on the morning of the semifinals last May in Liverpool. We kept it under wraps for almost a year and a half. We liked it already back then and immediately thought it could one day work as an album cover. When we started looking for a cover, it still best reflected our feelings.
Bojan: It was taken on an iPhone during the filming of a promotional video, so basically a completely randomly captured moment.
On the “Circus” Surrounding Them Because of the New Album:
Kris: What's particularly noticeable is the mental and emotional fragmentation. The songs are quite diverse and colourful, and at first glance, they didn’t seem to belong on the same album. But as Bojan said, they remind us of fridge magnets, which perhaps reflects that we were “all over the place,” and that we were exploring ourselves on a broader musical, lyrical, and instrumental level than usual.
Nace: You can tell the songs are “hyped up” because we were in that mindset. Different things influence you, and it would have been quite different if we had stayed home for a month before that instead of being on tour.
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PHOTO: Miro Majcen.
On Lack of Time:
Kris: We had to intentionally carve out time to write and record songs. We spent two months in London, a month in Hamburg, and last year we took a week in Kočevje to work on 'Everybody’s Waiting'. Carpe Diem took 14 days. We were maybe even under a bit of pressure, knowing we had to produce something.
On Three Languages on the Album:
Bojan: We spent a lot of time with all three languages; speaking, listening, and thinking in them. The stories naturally emerged in all three languages, and we didn’t resist that because it would have been truly foolish.
I see language as just another tool for conveying information, like how a specific guitar effect suits one song but not another.
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PHOTO: Miro Majcen.
On Egos:
Bojan: Egos have to clash because they’re an important part of our drive. I wouldn’t say our egos fight; they occasionally disagree, but everything generally moves in the same direction—to create something the five of us like. We have a healthy dose of competitiveness, and we’ve never truly had a fight. We separate the person from the musician, which I think is important.
Kris: There was never much ego, but for this album, we threw out what little was left. On this record especially, we faced moments where someone else did something on your instrument that you should have done. But that opened new possibilities and ideas—a fresh perspective. This happened to all of us except Bojan with vocals.
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Kris: Today, a friend sent me a message from Venice; they were playing 'Carpe Diem'. Last year, we made it onto the top 40 charts of a Lithuanian radio station. PHOTO: Miro Majcen.
Comments on the songs from the album SOUVENIR POP:
1. MUZIKA ZA DECU (Serbo-Croatian):
Bojan: When the idea came to me, I was thinking about how much I liked what was coming out of the speakers; quite grown up. Then I had a flash of cynicism and sarcasm: it’s all just for girls, for kids. Hence, “muzika za decu” (music for children). Initially, it was called Zlatna kosica (Golden hair), haha. I wrote the intro, then improvised the rest of the lyrics in Hamburg while we were playing it.
Nace: You might have changed two words.
Kris: The intro I play on guitar was originally done by Bojan on the piano. While recording, I was strumming along, imagining a piano intro. But when we listened to it later, everything felt so wrong that we started liking it. That’s how it stayed. We recorded it all together in one room, in one go.
Bojan: Žare was thrilled that he had to “clean up” the vocals (laughs), which we recorded in the kitchen.
Jure: This is one of the songs which features guest performers; a children’s choir at the end.
Nace: The kids from our crew and their relatives sang. The first group sang too in tune, so we recorded another group that was a bit less perfect. In the end, we combined the two recordings, and it turned out just right. There were about 15 to 20 kids altogether.
Jan: The guitar sound came from my Whammy pedal, which the producer Žare Pak didn’t always like, haha.
Nace: We have to commend Žare for producing in such a way that everything unnecessary is stripped away. He never hides anything like some other producers might.
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PHOTO: Miro Majcen.
2. ŠTA BIH JA (Serbo-Croatian):
Kris: This was the first song we created in London. Within a week, we already had the structure, though it initially resembled Bijelo Dugme. Some elements were later removed.
Nace: Yeah, Žare came in and said, “Guys, this is unnecessary” (laughs).
Kris: His reaction was hilarious. When he heard it, he said, “Did I send you to the UK to make yugo music?!” (laughs). It was our first Balkan reaction to being foreigners in a foreign country, and it just poured out of us. Bojan already had the lyrics “šta bih ja u ovoj crnoj noći bez tebe radio” (what would I do in this dark night without you), and we recorded it.
Bojan: I actually prefer hearing my voice in Serbo-Croatian over Slovenian, the position of the voice seems more natural.
Jure: It's interesting how the colour of Bojan's voice changes with different languages, which is actually quite normal.
Kris: Yeah, Bojan, in a 'Balkan language,' your rocker alter ego comes out even more, I think.
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PHOTO: Miro Majcen.
3. CARPE DIEM (Slovenian):
Bojan: This is the original souvenir. And pop. It’s hard to believe how one song can change everything for you like that. It’s literally just one of our songs; not necessarily better than the others, maybe not even one of my favourites. But as our Eurovision entry, it perfectly conveyed our message. The whole story and image of the band are captured in those three minutes. It’s an excellent channel for our energy, which got people to believe in us and become interested.
Kris: Today, a friend sent me a message from Venice; they played 'Carpe Diem' there. Last year, we were on the Lithuanian radio top 40 charts.
Bojan: The most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen in my life was when an older Mongolian singer and his band played and sang Carpe Diem live at a reception for our president, Nataša Pirc Musar, in Ulaanbaatar. We also received a recording from Zanzibar, where someone played it on a hotel terrace.
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Bojan: I wouldn’t say our egos fight; they occasionally disagree, but everything generally moves in the same direction—to create something we all like. PHOTO: Miro Majcen.
4. STEPHANIE (English):
Bojan: Of course, Stephanie isn’t really Stephanie, but these are real people who exist.
Jure: I didn’t have any part in this one since there are no drums; everything is programmed (laughs).
Nace: Yeah, everything was done by Casio, haha.
Kris: For many songs, we had a sample beat to practice with, and in some cases, it stayed in the final version. 'Stephanie' is one of those songs as well.
5. AKO TOGA VIŠE NEČE BITI (Serbo-Croatian):
Bojan: You believe in Santa Claus until you realise he doesn’t exist. It’s the same with love; until something destroys everything so thoroughly that you simply stop believing in it. This is a song about very raw disappointment with love.
Nace: I’m in a long-term relationship, and when you leave home, it’s a sacrifice both partners make. In the spirit of it being good for both of you and your partner supports it, everything is okay.
Kris: Full respect to your partner for enduring how you went from ‘zero to a hundred’ in six months.
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Nace: We have to commend Žare for producing in such a way that everything unnecessary is stripped away. PHOTO: Miro Majcen
6. BLUZA (Serbo-Croatian):
Bojan: I wrote 'Bluza' a long time ago, up to the chorus, about three years ago. For a long time, nothing happened with it until I presented it to the guys on an acoustic guitar. From there, it developed quickly, in a day or two. We even played it on tour before its release. Initially, it was more guitar-driven than it is now. The title, 'Bluza', literally just comes from the lyric “u ritmu tvoga bluza” (in the rhythm of your blues), but I quite like it.
Jan: A lot of our songs are titled after a phrase from the first verse that has no connection to the chorus.
Bojan: Similarly, back in university, my friends kept nagging me about 'Gola' (Naked), why we gave it that title, but nobody thought of the phrase “za naju” (for us), haha.
Kris: It’s probably because, during the creative process, we repeat the first part a lot, and that phrase naturally becomes the title.
Bojan: The story of a song always takes shape in the first verse.
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PHOTO: Miro Majcen
7. LIPS (English):
Bojan: We heard there’s a lot of money in music for films, so the song sounds like an apocalyptic ballad (laughs). Initially, it was quite Franz Ferdinand-esque. We even considered a duet with a French singer but didn’t have a clear vision, so we dropped the idea. Later, Žare and I restructured it, and then Nace tied everything together into a cohesive piece.
Jure: The song went through quite a few iterations.
Nace: Originally, it was a completely different song called 'Je t'aime'.
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PHOTO: Miro Majcen
8. MESTO DUHOV (Slovenian):
Bojan: Trumpeter Luka Ipavec collaborated on this track, adding trumpet parts to the choruses. We created it in England and named it after the street we were living on; it had quite a dark vibe. Initially, the song was about a girl who cheated on me, leading to my suicide. Then we introduced the “papapapa” part, creating an atmosphere of a funeral, a procession. When we decided the song should be in Slovenian, we tied it to how the current social climate feels incredibly negative overall. People are always ready to quickly react to something negative. It’s no longer pleasant to go outside; everything reflects the weight of what’s happening around us. There’s unfortunately an air of superficiality around us.
Jan: The solo came to life in Hamburg. Later, when we were finishing the songs, I had the idea to rhythmically slice the solo so that it spells out “baby boo” in Morse code.
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Jan: A lot of our songs are titled after a phrase from the first verse that has no connection to the chorus. PHOTO: Miro Majcen
9. SONCE (Slovenian):
Jan: I play the keyboards on this one. Bojan had already outlined the song on guitar with chords. The idea was to create something orchestral, like in 'Novi val'. I, however, approached it differently and arranged the piano part. I showed Bojan a melody that, in my view, reflects the essence of the song.
Bojan: This song is a direct reaction to events in Palestine. It’s the story of a deceased son speaking to his mother. It’s undoubtedly the most emotionally heavy song on the album. The structure is also unconventional; no part repeats, and the chorus appears only once. Jan captured perfectly what the vocals are saying with his piano part. It’s like a haiku, a single thought; not a classic pop song. Jan nailed the final take on his first try.
Kris: We could quickly get stuck creatively if everyone only insisted on their own instruments. Many songs only broke through when someone pressed something different. There were many moments where we needed that kind of freshness.
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PHOTO: Miro Majcen
10. EVERYBODY’S WAITING (English):
Kris: This was a song we didn’t know what to do with until Žare offered the most basic beat, and Jan started working with the Rhodes electric piano, which set the direction for the album.
Bojan: Jan picked up the Rhodes out of nowhere and according to Žare, he plays better than 90 percent of Slovenian keyboardists (laughs).
Kris: Žare’s modus operandi is to break your conventional thinking and enhance your intuition. He believes intuition is superior to thinking.
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PHOTOS: Miro Majcen
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gremlinmodetweeker · 4 months ago
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Bellowing Bull Calling Home
Please forgive me for not posting any stories in a hot minute! I've just been super busy and tired. I had a whole issue with my meds (thankfully it's been sorted out) and since I'm so angry I wrote something about König getting mad. I really like the idea of being yelled at by this man, so once I get to 500 followers, I might post some snippets of smut.
Also, I'm thinking about opening a Kofi soon. I don't make much money, but it would be a good place to post some more... Interesting drawings, so to speak. I could also take some comissions if anyone is interested. However, I'm not sure yet. I'm just floating the idea.
Anyways, enough about me! Time to read König getting mad because that's super hot.
TWs: König yelling and insulting recruits, slight allusions to degradation kink, allusions to a horrible government secret contained in a suitcase (you never learn what it is)
Wordcount: 4.1K
Art from This Post
Story below the cut
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Bellowing Bull Calling Home
 Normally, visiting König at work was a laughable concept. A PMC base was no place for a simple civilian such as yourself, yet here you were with König’s (supposedly) very important briefcase that he’d been directed to hold close to his chest for the foreseeable future. You’d begged König to let you read them, but he had simply laughed you off and changed the locks on the briefcase again. He then politely hid it out of view to keep you from trying to break into it. You had no intentions of doing so, but apparently whatever was in there was important enough for König to go to such lengths to protect it.
Unfortunately, by hiding the suitcase to keep it out of sight and out of mind from your curious fingers, König had forgotten about it entirely when he left that morning. You wouldn’t have known were the suitcase not sat proud and regal on your humble dining room table.
Sipping your drink and leaning against the counter, you realized you had the perfect opportunity to try and hack the damned thing open. Whatever was in there had König muttering darkly under his breath and leaning away from your touch. Those accursed documents were driving a wedge into your relationship the size and depth of a canyon. Of course, you knew the case was tamper-proof. You knew that if you so much as cracked it open as much as a millimeter, it would most likely set off some sort of alarm if a proper code wasn’t punched in the top. You had the strange feeling, based on the hefty weight in your hands, that the case wouldn’t even so much as dent if you took a simple butterknife to it.
You swung it back and forth as you left the home, the weight of your relationship hanging with the suitcase in your hand. Making your way to the main gates of the base.
A soldier checked your ID before waving you through, getting another soldier to help make your way to your husband.
“So, I don’t know if he’ll be in his office right now, but we can swing by there first,” Horangi chirped as he followed behind you to a long, grey building that sat close to the entrance.
You passed through a series of doors under the judgemental stares of low-ranking officers as Horangi brought you down the linoleum floors to come to a plain wood door, its only decor being a brown and white plaque reading ‘LEICHENBERG’ in big block letters. Horangi flicked the back of his knuckles against the doors twice before rolling back onto the balls of his heels. He looked at the door expectantly, then to you, then knocked again.
“Sometimes I knock and he thinks he’s going crazy,” Horangi explained before turning back to the door, “what he doesn't know is that sometimes I’m walking by and I’ll knock on the door and leave before he can answer it. I don’t think he’s caught on yet.”
You shook your head tiredly. That would at least explain some of König’s strange tendencies as of late, at least. Friends like Horangi tended to shorten lifespans, so if König dropped dead on his next mission, at least you knew who to blame now.
Horangi pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door to step through into the minimalist office. You balked at his gall, but the way the soldier swaggered through the doorway had you thinking that Horangi was far too comfortable with pushing his way into your husband’s office.
You barely got a chance to see your wedding picture on König's desk before Horangi cleared his throat.
“Whelp, looks like he’s not here,” Horangi sighed as he turned to face you, “guess I can just hand that over to him myself, if you’d like.”
You sighed, “I was really hoping to hand this over to him personally…”
“Why?” Horangi snorted, “so you can go fuck in a closet or something?”
“No!” you gasped, “I just… I wanted to see him. I never get to see him at work so, you know... I thought this might be a good chance to see what he's like at work.”
“Well who am I to deny such a fine and noble venture?” you could hear Horangi’s shit-eating grin through his mask, “if we’re gonna track down König, we gotta use plan B.”
“Plan B?” you asked warily.
“Plan B!” Horangi cheered before sauntering over and slinging an arm over your shoulder, “looks like we’re going on a goose chase today.”
“Please not a wild one.”
“It’s gonna be a wild one.”
You groaned as Horangi’s laughter echoed off the empty walls of König’s office. It figured that the one day you had to go to König’s work he’d be squirreled away into the farthest corner of the base. He had a habit of being in the wrong spot at the wrong time, which made you all the more anxious every time he was sent on deployment. It also had a tendency to haunt you in your daily life when he returned home to your awaiting arms.
Horangi trotted down the halls, conveniently pushing you past anything he considered a bit too explicit for civilian eyes and ensuring you were in front of him to prevent you from skiving off to some derelict corner of the base.
“König usually likes to go to the gym when he’s frustrated about something,” Horangi explained as he brought you from the main building to a separate section of the base. Once inside, Horangi rounded on the help desk like a tiger on a deer.
“So, Matrice,” Horangi drawled as he leaned his chin on the heel of his hand, somehow exuding smugness through his mask and sunglasses, “you wouldn’t happen to know where ol’ Col. Leichenberg is, would you?”
“Uh…” Matrice darted her dark eyes between Horangi and you, then down to the suitcase fearfully.
“König’s my husband,” you offered.
“König has a wife?” Matrice shook her dark curls as she tapped away on her archaic keyboard, “nobody ever tells me anything around here...”
“Well maybe if you actually came to the staff parties, you might get to know us a bit better,” Horangi slyly slid the dig into the conversation with serpentine ease.
“Horangi, last time I attended a KorTac hoedown you threw up in my car,” Matrice grumbled, “I’m never gonna be your DD again.”
“I don’t remember it being that bad,” Horangi snorted, then turned and muttered, “not that I remember that much anyways…”
“And that’s why I’m not your DD anymore,” Matrice scrolled through the page a couple of times before shrugging and turning to you, “sorry ma'am, but you’re outta luck here. Maybe try checking the cafeteria? It’s nearly lunch. Big boy's gotta eat."
“König would be the first out to lunch,” you grumbled after you thanked the woman. Horangi paid no mind to your whinging and simply turned you back around to head back to the main building.
“If it makes you feel better,” Horangi offered as he firmly pushed you across the road, “I think I saw him cut down on red meat the other day.”
“We’ll see how long that lasts,” you rolled your eyes. 
Horangi only laughed as he opened the door for you.
“I’m serious! He needs to watch what he eats!” you insisted as Horangi led you into the belly of the PMC.
“You know, sometimes I think about what your grocery budget is like, and then I think I'd rather go back to South Africa than have to pay your bills for a month,” Horangi chirped as he stopped you from missing a right turn, “watch your step.”
“You know it would be easier if you were the one in front,” you huffed as you swung down the bland corridor.
“I don’t like the thought of you being out of sight,” Horangi explained as he guided you around yet another corner, “König’s said some interesting things about you.”
“You guys talk about me?” you cast a glare over your shoulder at the tall Korean man.
“What else are we gonna talk about?” Horangi shrugged, “living on base isn’t exactly exciting. Dunno if you civvies got the memo, but there’s only so many times you can talk about special secret missions before it just gets boring.”
“Special secret missions?” you perked up.
“Cleaning duty assigned to whatever poor fucker got the shit end of the stick,” Horangi clarified.
You groaned, then complained, “Please tell me he doesn’t say bad things.”
“Not really,” Horangi replied, “but he tells me a little bit. Just the juicy bits.”
“Really?” you scoffed, “like what?”
“Did you actually forget your own birthday this year?”
You flushed, which seemed to be enough proof for Horangi to laugh at your humiliation.
“He told me you nearly had a heart attack when he told you,” Horangi snickered.
“Oh really?” the cafeteria came into view, “well has he told you he eats other people’s lunches as snacks?”
Horangi sighed, “I figured it was him. It’s not hard to guess that one.”
“Has he told you that he ate Stilleto’s cake?”
Horangi paused, “I thought he was a better man.”
“We both did,” you shook your head morosely, “but I guess she stole his evening snack or something?”
“Oh my God he didn’t try to justify it, did he?” Horangi groaned.
“I tried to explain it to him but he wouldn’t have it,” you pushed the door to the cafeteria open.
The massive room was empty save for a table of sergeants playing poker and a couple of officers sharing a coffee. The room was notably absent of any giant men with a propensity for malicious snacking. The warm and inviting smell of the room made you want to grab one of those dishwater coffees they served and kick up your feet, get a taste of the military experience, but the suitcase felt hot in your hands.
“Looks like he’s not here,” Horangi pointed out the obvious, “so maybe he’s outside training one of his teams? I hope not…”
“Why don’t we check?” you offered.
“But it’s so far…” Horangi trailed off weakly as you marched past him, “hey! Where are you going!?”
“To see König!” you called back.
Horangi rolled his eyes, but followed behind you regardless.
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The outdoor training area had been split into three squads of men, each squad being led by a different officer. The first leader Horangi brought you to had looked you up and down suspiciously before promptly turning a shade of milk white when he spotted the suitcase in your arms.
“What the hell are you doing with that!?” the portly man squawked as he jabbed a finger at the offending black pleather suitcase.
“My husband forgot it before going to work,” you spoke softly, taken aback by the man’s animated reaction.
“Wh-König just left it at home?” the man’s pale skin was steadily flushing to a beet red the longer you let him sit with your answer.
“Can you show me where he is? I need to get this back to him,” you tried to calm him but he only grew steadily more upset.
“You’re telling me König left that suitcase in the hands of a damn civilian?” the man scoffed, “König’s an idiot, but he can’t be that stupid!”
“She’s probably telling the truth, Baker,” Horangi interjected.
Baker steamrolled over him with the grace of a bulldog chasing a rat, “So where the hell did you get that?”
“It was just on my kitchen ta-”
“It was on your what!?” Baker howled.
“Baker!” Horangi barked, finally making the man pause to let you breathe, “this is König’s wife.”
Baker’s eyes widened as his mouth dropped into a perfect ‘o’. He turned to you with a sheepish smile, “Sorry, ma’am, I… I should’ve put two and two together but just seeing a random civilian with that in their hands and… Well… You gotta understand, right?”
You tried to steel your nerves as you replied, “It’s alright! Don’t worry about it.”
“I really should apologize though,”  Baker blundered on, “I mean if I’d only known you were König’s wife I never would’ve-”
“Baker please,” Horangi pinched his nose bridge, “cut the shit. I’m really not in the mood to listen to you kiss ass for an hour straight.”
“Understood sir,” Baker snapped his jaw shut before subtly turning to you, “please don’t mention anything to König.”
“I won’t,” you assured him kindly.
“Thank God,” Baker quietly made the sign of a cross before returning back to his platoon.
Horangi dragged you along to the next platoon, quietly ignoring Baker’s inability to direct you to König. Instead you were brought before a short man with notably thick dark eyebrows, accentuating his severe browline as he scowled at his soldiers.
“G’day Horangi 'ow are what the hell is she holding,” the man glared at you as though you were but dirt beneath his steel-toed boots.
“This is König’s wife,” Horangi cut you off before you could even start, “she’s here to deliver what he forgot at home.”
The man’s dark eyes darted from you back to Horangi, “You’re tellin’ me big boy over there forgot the damn-”
“Don’t say it,” Horangi interjected harshly, “don’t you dare.”
“She don’t know?” the man whispered.
“Not a word,” Horangi’s threat was nearly lost under the shouts of men and the screams of whistles.
The man looked unnerved, but nodded along begrudgingly.
“Right, well, you’re lookin’ for the big guy?” the man glanced between you both.
“Sure are,” Horangi nodded.
“Well yer in luck!” the man’s face lit up, “big boy’s just over there.” With that, he pointed out into the distance at one big man sitting in a navy blue folding chair whilst commanding the smallest group of soldiers, no more than a squad in number. His back was to them, but it was clear it was none other than König. If nothing else, the mask on his face in the sweltering hot sun was a dead giveaway. It was a miracle you didn’t see him earlier.
“Damn,” Horangi spat, “you really think it would be easier to find him, but he’s damn good at getting lost in a crowd.”
“When ‘e’s in that chair it’s hard to spot ‘im,” the man chuckled, “now get outta my sight with that damned thing. Gives me the heebie-jeebies just lookin’ at it.”
You glanced down at the suitcase and back at Horangi.
“You don't want to know. Seriously,” Horangi muttered as he urged you onwards.
Instead of taking in the weight of Horangi's ominous utterances, you focussed on making your way to König with a skip in your step, eager to see your beloved husband. You were so eager that you didn’t notice how he tensed up as you drew close. Just as you were about to greet him, he slowly rose from his seat with a blood-curdling howl sent straight from hell itself.
“YOU!” König bellowed like a brazen bull, “JEFFERSON, YOUNG, MANDULU! GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW.”
You stopped dead in your tracks. You had never, never, in your life ever heard König yell like that before. Sure he could curse up a wicked storm when he stunned his toe on the corner of your table, but this? This was another beast entirely. The mere thought of König yelling like this had been completely foreign to you.
“YOU USELESS ANIMALS,” König raged as he rounded in on the three cowering soldiers, “I have never, in my entire life, seen such incompetence,” König drew himself up to his full height, making even you shiver in your shoes, “and yet here you three are before me. What gives you the right to call yourself soldiers!?”
“I’m sorry sir, it won’t happen again,” the middle man’s voice quivered as he stepped forward for the others.
König’s laugh sounded downright demonic, “You’re apologizing for what? I haven’t even told you what you did wrong!”
You looked back at Horangi, who only threw you two thumbs up as he smartly backed away. You glared at his retreating form before König forcefully grabbed your attention.
“All three of you have been nothing but DEAD WEIGHT to the rest of your team. I’ve seen better performances from drunks moping up their own VOMIT!” König snarled as he drew close to the men, circling them like a hyena stalks its prey, “fucking Aziz is doing better than any of you. And Mandulu!” König clucked his tongue as the terracotta skinned man quivered like an aspen tree when König's voice dropped to a lull, “I expected better of you. You’re supposed to be up for promotion, yeah?" König leaned in close to scream, "DOES THIS PERFORMANCE WARRANT A GOD DAMN PROMOTION?” König’s face wasn’t even a foot from the man’s nose, leaning down and coating him with hot breaths from his draconic lungs.
The man, Mandulu, slumped as all fear left his body, totally replaced with encroaching shame. He dropped his head down, before tearfully admitting, “No sir.”
“THEN WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?” König screamed.
A part of you wanted to intervene. You felt like you were witnessing a torture session with how König rounded on this poor man, but something held you back. Maybe it was fear, but maybe, just maybe… It was arousal.
You hated to admit it, but something about watching König’s muscles bulge in his neck as his mask swayed forth when he leaned down over men who easily dwarfed you excited you. You almost wished that you were in their shoes, but watching was more than enough. He was a glorious sight, rage burning like the sun as he lorded over his men like a god. He was a mountain of a man with how he held himself up above his victims. You wished to lay before him like Prometheus, let him rip you apart with his talons.
“And you two,” König spat as he turned to the others, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ON YOUR PHONES? What are you doing twenty feet off looking at the others while they work like ACTUAL FUCKING SOLDIERS.”
One meekly spluttered, “Sir we were just-”
“Just what? Laughing at Goetz?” you could see König whipping himself up into a frenzy as he hurled his next insults, “GOETZ HAD KNEE SURGERY THREE MONTHS AGO AND IS STILL HAULING YOUR USELESS ASSES ACROSS THE GODDAMN FIELD. AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING? PLAYING ON YOUR GODDAMN PHONES!!!”
You shuddered. If there was one thing König hated, it was soldiers on their phone during training. You gave a silent prayer for the poor men.
König stalked around them slowly, “I should have you thrown out. What would I be losing? Nothing! Not a single thing! I might actually gain something without you two dragging us down!”
The men cowered miserably. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for them, despite knowing the abuse was more than well deserved. From the sounds of it, it was a miracle König hadn’t beaten them to a pulp. Now that… That would be a sight to witness…
“ALL OF YOU,” König snapped as he finally stood to face the three men directly, “Mandulu! Give me a ten page report on all the reasons you’re still worthy of a promotion today at eighteen-hundred exactly, or you’re up for recycling. For the next half hour, you’re running laps around the yard. Maybe think how you'll structure your points, ja?” he turned to the other two, this time with a sadistic gleam in his eyes. You knew that under his mask, he was grinning from ear to ear through the fury etched into his face. “And you two!” he cackled, “give me your phones. For the next week, you’re going to be putting your phones in lock boxes. You’re going to carry those fucking boxes from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep. If you’re good little boys, you’ll get your phone for an hour before lights out. Are we clear?”
“But sir, my wife-”
“I DON’T GIVE A GOOD GOD DAMN ABOUT YOUR WIFE,” König roared.
The man shrunk into himself like he’d been burned by the flames of König’s fury.
“You are to carry your phones in lockboxes for the next two weeks! Are we clear?” König snapped.
“Yes sir,” the two miserable whelps squeaked out before König finally relaxed.
The goliath finally stood straight before them, “All three of you! Dismissed!”
“Yes sir,” the three men saluted and slunk off miserably.
Just as Mandulu looked like he couldn’t be in any worse of a state, König called out, “And Mandulu?" the man raised his dark for eyes, "I’m disappointed.”
The poor man looked like his whole spirit had just been crushed to dust. His face crumpled in just briefly before he quickly turned his face and quietly left.
You watched the poor man leave with his tail tucked between his legs before turning to look at König. He was shaking his head slowly as he turned his back on his soldiers, all of whom were watching him for further instruction. He quietly turned to them, barked a couple of commands that had the soldiers scurrying into actions, then turned back to stare off into the distance. Incidentally, that was right at you.
“Ah!” König stiffened slightly as he locked eyes with you, “meine liebe! What are you doing here?”
“I brought this for you,” you held up the suitcase that had been weighing you down all day.
“Oh mein Gott,” König gasped as he rushed over, “ohhhhh mein Gott meine leibe I can’t believe you found this. I can’t believe I forgot oh mein Gott.”
“I figured you might need it,” you laughed as you handed the suitcase over.
“I knew I was forgetting something, but this? If one of my superiors saw me without this,” König shuddered, “I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Well it’s a good thing I got it for you!” you smiled brightly before scowling, “it was really hard to find you though.”
“Oh?” König put the case down and put his hands on your shoulders, “where did you think I was?”
“Well, first Horangi took me to your office-”
“Please tell me he didn’t take you inside,” König groaned.
“He did,” you chirped, “but he did knock twice at least.”
“Well that’s something,” König grumbled, “so where did you go next?”
“We went to the cafeteria afterwards,” you placed your hands on König’s hips and shifted from side to side.
“You went to the cafeteria? Why didn’t you come here first?” König scoffed in mock offense.
“König,” you cupped his masked face in your hands, “I know you too well to not check the cafeteria second.”
König sniffed indignantly but let you continue your regales of your odyssey.
“So anyways, when you weren’t in the cafeteria, Horangi took me out here to find you! It took us a couple of tries, but we got here in the end!” you lightly kissed the inside of his wrist, making him chuckle sheepishly.
“So you saw all that?” König grimaced.
“All of it,” you told him, “I feel kinda bad for them though…”
“Ach,” König scratched the back of his head, “Jefferson and Young are fucking idiots, but Mandulu is usually one of my best. I don’t know what got into him today…”
“Maybe he’s going through a tough time?” you asked.
“I really hope not,” König winced, “if he is… Well, I can’t apologize. And if he were out on the fields it wouldn’t matter, so this is a good experience. Still,” König paused as he looked off to where Mandulu left, “I hope tomorrow is better.”
“Can't you go easy on him?” you asked hopefully.
“It’s because I like him that I have to be harder,” König patted your head lovingly, “if I’m soft, he’ll never be what he wants to be. If I’m hard on him, he might get to my rank in a couple of years.”
“That fast!” you whistled, “he must really be something special.”
“I was the one who put him up for promotion,” König brought his hands back to his hils, “but… You weren’t upset by any of that, were you?”
“Not really,” you shook your head, “if anything, it was kinda hot.”
“You thought me going red in the face is ‘hot’?” König shook his head in disbelief, “you’re a strange woman.”
“It’s cool to see you when you get all angry and stuff,” you chirped, then quietly added, “it would be hot if you yelled at me like that.”
“I don’t want the neighbors to know about your kinks,” König drawled as you blushed, “but if you really want, we could always try something when we get home.”
“Could we really?” you grinned eagerly.
“Well, not like that,” König pointed over his shoulder at where the three men had stood, “but I’m sure we can figure something out. Now,” he picked up the suitcase, “do you need a lift home?”
“I’ll be alright,” you assured him, “do you need me to go?”
“I'd hate for you to go so soon. If you like, I can meet you back in my office, but as you can see I’m a bit busy just right now,” König gestured over to the soldiers hauling a massive log over their shoulders from one end of the muddy field to the other.
“Can you at least give me a kiss before I go?” you asked.
“Of course,” König laughed.
Without missing a beat, König lifted his mask up to lean down and press a kiss against your lips. He held you tight briefly, then let you step back from his grasp. His eyes shone with an undying warmth as he took in your form once more.
“Colonel König has a face!” a soldier screamed in the distance.
König closed his eyes as he let out an exasperated groan.
“They’ve never seen your face?” you asked.
“They’ve never been on the field with me,” König explained before ruffling your hair, “now go to my office. I’ll be there soon, okay? I love you.”
“I love you too,” you blew him a kiss as you walked off back to the main building.
As you did, you could hear König raging and roaring at the soldiers from behind you. You felt bad, but you knew you’d be on the receiving end of König’s rage soon enough. Funnily enough, you looked forward to it.
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Story Masterlist
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bigification · 10 months ago
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Love, Lust, and Leather
"A public intoxication call at 4pm, really?" Daryl complained to his partner.
"These are always the fun ones huh." Ben replied.
"Well it's usually the night shift that's gotta deal with these assholes, why do they have to do this when we're on patrol." Daryl continued.
Ben just chuckled under his breath and shifted his focus back to the road. The two cops quickly pulled up to the bar and approached the entrance, dreading the interaction that was about to happen.
Just as Daryl reaches for the door, it suddenly opens. A suspicious looking man stumbles out of the bar and right into the pair of cops.
"You boys look like you're raring for a good time." The man chuckles.
Daryl shoots a confused look at his partner, "Male prostitute?"
Before Ben could respond, the man butts in. "Oh darling, you wish. I'm talking about you two, you've been stuck in that small car together for far too long to not have thought about what the other looks like under those charming uniforms." The man winks at Daryl.
"Okay, that's enough from you." Daryl reaches for his handcuffs.
"Oh that won't be necessary, I'll be on my way now." The mysterious man starts to walk away. The two cops attempt to grab him, but feel frozen in place. "Have fun you love birds!" The man chuckles as he slips away.
The two cops remain frozen as something begins to change. Their blue and brown uniforms begin to shift into a deep black leather. Their tops turn into expensive looking leather suits and their khaki pants turn to a similar glossy black leather. All their accessories turn into thick black leather with shiny silver accents, their belts, their boots, their gloves, and even their hats all transform.
However, it wasn't just the clothes that would change. Both young men seemed to age into their thirties as their short stubble grew into bushy beards and their hair shortened into a clean buzz cut. Their muscles began to grow, filling their leather clothes until they were skin tight. Their asses simultaneously perked up, filling in the space in their pants. And the bulge in their pants grew larger and larger as their cocks nearly doubled in length and girth. Finally, both of the men felt an itchiness engulf their bodies as thick hairs grew all over their bodies.
As the duo escaped their paralyzed state, all semblance of the cops they once were was now long gone. Memories of training to become a cop were replaced by nights at gay bars, drinking until they couldn't remember how many people they had fucked that night. The two shared a lustful look as Daryl grabbed his hand cuffs, and Ben grabbed his baton.
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nqvo · 1 month ago
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Plain Text Under Cut to Shorten the Post Length. Sorry in Advance for inconvenience!
ㅤ──ㅤPINK TEA PARTY NAMES, PRONOUNS && TITLES.⠀⠀⠀♡ ㅤㅤ⠀ REQUESTED BY ANON.
ㅤ──ㅤPINK TEA PARTY NAMES.⠀⠀⠀♡
Tulip, Roslyn, Nyora, Kolyne / Kolytte, Kyoline / Kyolette, Primrose, Promise, Primeviere, Darling / Darlyn, Lacyieve, Adora, Lacebeth, Melisande, Isobelle, Eloise, Aphrodis, Adoreane, Roseatte, Rosabeth, Nadyia / Nadia / Nadya, Clarence, Odette / Odetta, Adaline, Adelaide, Novolette.
ㅤ──ㅤPINK TEA PARTY PRONOUNS.⠀⠀⠀♡
Chu / Chy / Chyu, Cher / Cheri, Tea / Teaself, Pi / Pink / Pinkself, Ro / Rose, Ado / Adore, Belle / Belleself, Tul / Tulle / Tulip, Lae / Lace, Fri / Frill, Dre / Dress, Su / Sui / Suit, Tux / Tuxes / Tuxedo, Fai / Faith, Loe / Love, Kyu / Kyute, Kyi / Kyiss / Ki / Kiss.
ㅤ──ㅤPINK TEA PARTY TITLES.⠀⠀⠀♡
The Pink Party Club, The Pink (Party) Host / Hostess, The Kyute (ly) Dressed / Suited One, The Laced / Frilled Tea Lover, *Wonderland Pink Party, *The Adoring / Adored Hatter.
Can you tell titles are not my strong suit? * : Inspired by Alice in Wonderland.
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Text reads : "DNI if Radqueer, TERFs, Pro/Endo, Pro/Com/Darkship. Do not repost my work, ever!!!"
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Begin PT:
Pink Tea Party Names, Pronouns, and Titles. Requested by Anon.
Pink Tea Party Names :
Tulip, Roslyn, Nyora, Kolyne / Kolytte, Kyoline / Kyolette, Primrose, Promise, Primeviere, Darling / Darlyn, Lacyieve, Adora, Lacebeth, Melisande, Isobelle, Eloise, Aphrodis, Adoreane, Roseatte, Rosabeth, Nadyia / Nadia / Nadya, Clarence, Odette / Odetta, Adaline, Adelaide, Novolette.
Pink Tea Party Pronouns :
Chu / Chy / Chyu, Cher / Cheri, Tea / Teaself, Pi / Pink / Pinkself, Ro / Rose, Ado / Adore, Belle / Belleself, Tul / Tulle / Tulip, Lae / Lace, Fri / Frill, Dre / Dress, Su / Sui / Suit, Tux / Tuxes / Tuxedo, Fai / Faith, Loe / Love, Kyu / Kyute, Kyi / Kyiss / Ki / Kiss.
Pink Tea Party Titles :
The Pink Party Club, The Pink (Party) Host / Hostess, The Kyute (ly) Dressed / Suited One, The Laced / Frilled Tea Lover, *Wonderland Pink Party, *The Adoring / Adored Hatter.
Can you tell titles are not my strong suit? * : Inspired by Alice in Wonderland.
End PT.
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mrsoharaa · 17 days ago
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· ₊ ִ ͡ ࣪ 𑇛 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒚
characters; Nanami Kento x Reader x Suguru Geto
cw; heavily suggestive, tensionnnn, mild violence?? (if you squint reallyyy hard I guess???), soft praising, swearing, the LONGINGGGG.
a/n; this one made me feel things. the tensionnnn + the YEARNING 😩😩😵‍💫 also, i wrote this around 3:43am (12/7/24) lmao so pls don't mind the typos! alsooo...I got sorta maybe lazy towards the end ngl lol. mind you this was only meant to be a paragraph or two long lmfaooo.
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Nanami Kento lovingly, tenderly caressing and kissing ever so graciously and carefully at the base of your navel. Strong, wide gentle hands diligently glide up and under the back of your falling long t-shirt that draped to the upper plush of your soothing thighs. Warm lips sensually travel along the soften skin of your stomach, as his fleeing hands venture up the lower of your arching back. Gentle irises of hazel delicately gaze up at you with overflowing longing and tenderness. Another chaste kiss pressing into the pliable fat of your enticing flesh.
"Excuse me for the bluntness of my actions love, but...you are just simply so divine...your skin is so soft and sweet" his smooth, deep voice reverberates rhythmically against your fluttering tummy. Igniting that fueling fire starting to flicker within your warm stomach, immense heat blossoming deep into the supple skin of your cheeks.
Your hands slowly, carefully weave and comb through the soften blonde tresses that perfectly dressed atop of his perfect head. Each finger lacing and curling into each and every silky thin strand with earnest motions.
And as your lush lips part to sputter words, you could feel another pair of callous, insinuative hands glide down the smooth length of your exposed legs, languid, thick fingers tracing soft shapes up along the plump skin of your jittering thighs.
A shorten breath wafting from your parted lips as warm breath skims across the open skin of your torrid cheeks. A touch of falling, thin strands of raven hair pooling along the slump of your shoulders, added, arising heat permeating into your clothed back.
"Isn't she, Nanami-san? just ever so sweet..." the rumbling, steep purr of Suguru's voice bellows into your ear. Eliciting a wave of enticement and arousal to pool from the tips of your toes to the arch of your spine. Making you roll your head back slightly to meet with the long haired sorcerer's lidded stare.
Perfect mounds of yearning mauve reflects back down into your own drowning pupils of anticipation and sensuality.
"So soft and delicate..." he coo's on, caressing the velvety mush of flesh with intricate palms. Kneading and massaging generously, amorously.
"Mm, so nectarous and inebriating..." Nanami croons in, the palms of his sturdy hands flattening themselves against the midst of your curled back, gradually pulling you in closer towards his sitting frame, guiding you in between the open space of his sprouted, meaty legs. With Suguru swiftly following right behind you, not missing a beat of tenderizing your doughy thighs.
Your head inevitably swindles back to meet the resolved, heated wooing stare those honeyed dipped irises were impending onto you from your restless belly. Planting sweltering, molding libidinous kisses further and further up the pliant pathway of your adoring torso.
Your breath falters at the base of your throat, feeling your airwaves being cut short as five meticulous, prolong fingers guide your head back up and around to meet those gorgeous eyes of sheer allurement and predatory. A fiery glare of built up hunger and ardent swelling in those pools of deep amethyst. His pointing finger gently nudging just beneath the base of your under chin to easily angle and motion your head to his command.
Smiles ever so dastardly charmingly and deviously down at you, a conveyed ploy of gracious and gentle intent heavily basked with a weighted jest of pure desire and inclination. His thumb gingerly brushing along the outline of your jaw structure in graceful notions. His left hand moderately climbing up the smooth surface of your upper thigh, the soft fabric of your shirt brushing upwards to his sly, insinuating motions.
"Dizzying, almost" he inquires in that sleek, rasp voice of his, caressing the subtle frame of your gorgeous face. Chuckling softly at the jittering breaths and gasps falling from your luscious lips from Nanami's pliant, burning kisses peppering up the valley of your heaving torso.
"L/n-san..."
Your mind immediately melds into their seducing mannerisms, body already drowning into the palms of their guiding hands — your racing heart already craving what was to aspire.
"L/n-san..."
The sound of Nanami's and Suguru's voice continued to fester thoroughly in your painted mind. The deep, candied like tunes in their inviting voices accumulating a pool of moisture to gather in between your pursed legs.
"Y/n-san!" the deeper pitch of a familiar voice pitches higher in tone into your burning ears. A comforting grasp on your right shoulder gently shakes you awake from your haunting daze.
Your heavy lids begin to blink open slowly, glimpsing up to see the familiar pair of sinfully, drawing men stand before you. Eyes of gentleness and concern both roaming over you with such delicacy and worry.
A muttered grumble titters off from your lips as you finally come to to your surroundings.
"Mm, what...what happened?" you murmur lightly, glancing around you as you take in the destroyed rubble of rotting and crumbled buildings.
"You got knocked out pretty hard by that curse we were fighting from earlier, are you alright? feeling dizzy or nauseous of any sorts?" Nanami takes another look over on you in a caring manner, swiftly meeting back to your still hazy eyes. You lift a wry smile, wincing sharply as you feel a pinching pain throb at the right side of your body.
"My head is killing me and my body feels like it's on fire..." you mumble with another wince.
Nanami instinctively hovers over you in mild concern, placing his blade down aside from him as he gently cups your face with his right hand and ghosts his left hand over to the side of your body that pulsed with pain.
Your cheeks flourish into a deep heat, eyes flickering between those worried beautiful eyes of his to the equally concerned dark haired sorcerer standing just inches behind Nanami.
You notice the obvious weight of heed swelling in those concentrated irises, but you also noticed something a bit more...rapacious.
You tilt your head slightly, the daunting pang of the blunt force you took from it from earlier, suddenly weighing down on you from the simple gesture. You hiss softly from the jabbering ache.
"Here, let's get you to Shoko" Nanami suggests, carefully wrapping both of his stocky arms around your body to lift into his care.
"Your well being takes first priority" he insist promptly, easily standing onto his feet as he turned his body.
"Perhaps you can go on ahead and track down that pestering curse from earlier, Suguru" Nanami advises, carefully aiding around the rugged rubble, passing by a stilling Suguru.
Your eyes subtly studies over Nanami's strong features, admiring the radiating and inspiring glow to his visage.
Slowly, you blink over behind the two of you back onto Suguru.
Watching his head slowly meet your studying gaze, lidded optics bear directly into your own with such heavy bewilderment and confliction. A smidge trace of a knowing and smug glint swelling in those lulling gems of mulberry.
Were you really dreaming of such...evocative thoughts of the two helpful, kindred men hindering to your aid? or were you simply selfishly daydreaming about your wildest, forbidden fantasies in the midst of being the midst of the two strong sorcerers, during a mission no less?
The rambling thoughts made your stomach churn anxiously.
...Did Suguru somehow know about your inquisitive thoughts?
Was that why he was starring at you with such a knowing, leering look lingering in his eyes as Nanami carried you away?
...Well, fuck.
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cornerdreams-txt · 8 months ago
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hiiii so i was talking with a friend about the consequences of q!fit being in. a fucking pit. with dead bodies. for weeks. and we've agreed that, you know, being a 2b2t veteran and a major historian, fit has gone through a lot, that honestly? the worst part just might be the isolation aspect.
on 2b2t, even if it was a fight, or even if he had to duck into cover and hide, there was people. there was other people. fit would see others, he wasn't ever truly, fully alone. but here? in this pit? the only soul is himself. everyone else is beyond his reach. so when he finally, finally gets back, gets to go home, he's... at a loss. everything he'd grown used to is no longer normal to him. it's as foreign and strange as it once was when he first arrived on the island. sleeping on a bed. seeing people. being touched.
pac is unbearably kind to him, when the pieces finally fall into place, and fit's sudden, severe aversion to touch turns out to be touch starvation, and isolation trauma, no matter how hard fit tries to pretend its fine.
after some serious consideration, pac decides a good way to help fit readjust will be not to tell him that he's safe, but to show him.
also this got really long so there's more under the cut! i'm just putting the cut there to shorten the visible length of this post for the sake of scrollers lol
at first, he listens. watches. fit never turns his back on him, no matter what. he's always within fit's line of sight. so, he takes initiative. he turns his back to fit, on purpose. including when they sleep in the same bed - pac will stretch wide and long, then curl up on his side, back to fit, and let himself doze off there, all too aware of fit's eyes burning into the backs of his shoulder.
...fit always keeps at least one hand empty, or filled with a weapon when he's around other people. so, pac happily busies his hands with trinkets and useless items - blocks and books and signs and food and tools and never potions fit wouldn't be able to immediately identify - until fit stops watching pac's hands so warily.
fit doesn't touch him. so pac touches him, slowly, cautiously. absently reaches out to dust off his clothes for him, grabs his hand to give it a little squeeze, blows him a playful kiss if he's feeling extra sappy or teasing, shows him with gentle hands that it's okay. pac isn't going to hurt him.
and he keeps doing it, over and over, making himself vulnerable, allowing himself to appear defenseless and weak in fit's eyes, even when it makes his own anxiety tick and claw at him, because he knows fit won't hurt him. fit might be scared and withdrawn and back, in some ways, to how he used to be, but it's still his fit. he's still safe with him around.
and fit, well. if it weren't for it being pac, he'd call it stupiditiy. he'd call it suicidality to be so open, so vulnerable around someone else like that. especially someone who you know is dangerous and volatile and bloodthirsty and not afraid to hurt others. but it is pac. it's his boyfriend. it's ramon's other dad. so he checks himself, reevaluates, questions over and over why pac would be doing this.
it isn't until pac pulls fit to hover over him while he enthusiastically explains a new creative idea he's been mulling over in his brain, hands gesturing happily within the confines of fit's arms and their chests, rambling and infodumping, occasionally stumbling and struggling to find the words in english while he explains, that fit's brain clicks together that all that vulnerability. all that intentional self-disarming. it's been intentional. it's all. been intentional.
the reason pac has been putting himself in danger (making himself vulnerable) around fit is because he trusts fit. these intentional acts that fit would call suicidality in anybody else aren't pac being stupid or careless, it's a willful, intentional reminder, over and over and over, "i trust you," in every breath he breathes while doing things he knows fit's survival habits and instincts would never let him even try to do, showing him that it's safe, here, because if it wasn't, he wouldn't be doing all this.
if it wasn't pac doing all that shit, fit would call it stupiditiy.
but it is pac. so instead, he's pretty sure it's just… pac.
it's just his boyfriend.
so, he's okay.
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webby-mogai · 10 months ago
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cannibalizer / mutual / cannibalized
[pt: cannibalizer / mutual / cannibalized /end pt]
Modifiers for labels under the cannibalistic attraction umbrella(link) specifying if you want to be the one to cannibalize, have mutual cannibalism, or to be the one cannibalized respectively. These can also be used as their own label if one wishes.
These can be applied either to the front or to the end and can be shortened. Examples: mutual cannilial, cannamor cannibalizer, cannheshin-ized, mu-cannixual. The shortened version of each are zer-/izer- or -zer/-izer, mu-/mut- or -mu/-mut, and zed-/ized or -zed/-ized. The dashes aren't necessary but may help with readability.
You can also create combo flags if you wish.
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simplified/accessible
[pt: simplified/accessible /end pt]
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I'm insane I'm crazy insane nsane. I realized that some folks might wanna clarify their stance on things so I made these I hope they help :3
Based on the gendercannibal(link) flag
Special thanks to the folks on my discord helping me with the colors.
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to cut down on the length of this post, after the first description of the stripes I'll remove the it for the rest of the flags with the same pattern.
[cannibalizer flag id: a rectangular flag with 13 horizontal lines. the 1st, 2nd, 12th, and 13th line are triangular. the 4th and 10th line are wavy, and the rest are straight. line sizes in this order from top to bottom: 2 thick, 9 medium, 2 thick. the 4th line has been made to look like it is dripping from multiple spots. colors in this order starting from the top and reflected after the last listed color: black, dark red, red, reddish orange, orange, golden yellow and yellow. in the center of the flag is a heart shaped piece of meat with yellow and orange flesh, and around the symbol are sharp white teeth. /end id]
[mutual flag id: colors in this order starting from the top down are: dark blue, blue, bluish grey, grey, off white, reddish pink, the center stripe is cut in the middle being dark red on one side and light yellow on the other, yellow, light orange, reddish orange, red, dark red and black. the symbol has red flesh. /end id]
[cannibalized flag id: colors in this order starting from the top and reflected after the last listed color: dark blue, blue, bluish grey, grey, white reddish pink and dark red. the symbol blue and red flesh. /end id]
[divider id: a transparent divider with cartoon drawings of a heart, an eye, and lungs in that order. it repeats 5 or so times /end id]
[simplified cannibalizer flag id: a rectangular flag with 13 horizontal lines. the 1st, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and 13th line are medium thickness, the 2nd and 12th lines are thicker, 3rd and 11th are thinnest, and the 4th and 10th are thickest. colors in this order starting from the top and reflected after the last listed color: black, dark red, red, reddish orange, orange, golden yellow and yellow. in the center of the flag is a heart shaped piece of meat with yellow and orange flesh, and around the symbol are sharp white teeth. /end id]
[simplified mutual flag id: colors in this order starting from the top down are: dark blue, blue, bluish grey, grey, off white, reddish pink, the center stripe is cut in the middle being dark red on one side and light yellow on the other, yellow, light orange, reddish orange, red, dark red and black. the symbol has red flesh. /end id]
[simplified cannibalized flag id: colors in this order starting from the top and reflected after the last listed color: dark blue, blue, bluish grey, grey, white reddish pink and dark red. the symbol has blue and red flesh /end id]
[divider id: a transparent divider with cartoon images of a brain, a tooth, and intestines in that order. it's repeated 5 or so times /end id]
[banner id: a black banner with a white outline and white outlined text with a drawing to the left on a transparent background. the text reads "READ MY IWC" in big text and underneath it reads "anyone can use my terms but I will block you" in smaller text. to the left is a drawing of Higan drawn by John/TOOBOE squatting with her knees together. /end id]
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paraesol · 1 year ago
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Monster High girlies (and enbies!!) Part one of ??
Ko-Fi | Commission Info
Design notes under the cut:
For Draculaura I couldn’t really think of any way to improve on her design (can’t improve upon perfection!) so it was less of a redesign and more of a possible alternate look
I looked at a lot of different goth and sweet Lolita dresses for inspo and ended up landing somewhere in between
I shortened her pigtails and tried to make them imitate the shapes of bat wings
Her umbrella I pretty much kept as is
I ended up mostly borrowing from her gen 1 design, but referenced gen 3 here and there as well
Her figure is obviously more petite, I also wanted to make her a bit chubbier but it isn’t really that noticeable. If I go back and do revisions I’ll have to fix that
This Draculaura is a trans girl and is either straight or bi, I couldn’t decide so let’s say she’s questioning! I haven’t seen the new series but from what I hear she’s half Thai so I’ll keep that
For Frankie I wanted to take the more modern design of gen 3 and add a bit of the edgy, Avril Lavigne-esque pop punk feel from gen 1
I kept gen 3 Frankie’s side shave but changed the shape of their hair to be a bit more dynamic
I also kept gen 3’s metal leg because I like it :)
I brought in some more of the red accents that gen 1 Frankie has, plus the yellow accents from gen 2 (which ended up being the only thing I borrowed from gen 2 LOL)
Asymmetry and mismatching lengths were key!!
My Frankie is pan, non-binary, and femme-leaning in their presentation but uses strictly they/them pronouns. Also they’re Jewish because I’m Jewish and I say so
Clawdeen’ s outfit I ended up struggling with the most. I wanted her to be fashionable in the way gen 1 is, but in a slightly more modern alternative kind of way
I wanted to give her a bit of an art hoe aesthetic, which only really ended up showing in the pants, which I imagined she painted and patched up herself
Besides that I gave them curlier hair, more akin to gen 3, and a tail (I was going to add more wolfy features, like a dog nose and fur tufts on the cheeks and elbows, but I didn’t like the way it looked so I took it out)
My Clawdeen is a lesbian demi-girl and uses she/they pronouns :D they’re also Afro-Latina obv
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mahiiimahiiii · 10 months ago
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the less i know the better
Cw/: hurt & comfort, sloppy “I’m sorry for being rude” sex, service top gale, body image issues, shapeshifters and enchanters have some things to discuss, multiple orgasms, some crying, taking care of each other, piv, durges previous encounters, mentions of durges necrophilia, gortash ruins relationships like no one’s business, mentions of squirting and intense orgasms, durge is in they feels.
a/n: i would like to have a big bath, like swimming pool sized. we didn't get a beach or bathhouse episode so i took it upon myself.
what do we want??? Service top gale!!! When do we want it?? At a decent time!!!! I’m pretty sure I pinched my shoulder at the gym and it stingssss. Please play the world’s tiniest violin in my honor. I love bathhouse scenes, so I hope y’all enjoy this one.
(durge is a wood elf storm sorcerer, once again they are brown with loose curls at chin length hair)
(read on a03 or below the cut!)
(if you like what i write- please consider donating to my ko-fi!)
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“You could’ve told me that one of your alias’s was lady gortash sooner.” Gale’s voice soured slightly, as you shuffled back into the tiled specialty changing room. You dispelled a few things, taking a few shuddering breaths.
“How was I supposed to know.” Your steps are a bit shorter as you step out of your boots. Hair once silver returning to a charcoal black. The crimson left its stain on your eyes, its color pulsing with every anxious heartbeat.
“You didn’t know what? You’d think something as important as being spoken for would be remembered.” His back turned to you as he worked on un-buttoning his robe, the stiff white collar of his shirt slowly revealed.
you held your head in your hands, rubbing the khol around your eyes. Your previously too perfect features dissipating, revealing the molted and decaying flesh underneath. As you stared at your own face in the mirror, tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, you blinked them back. “It’s not…it never was like that.” Your voice warbled more than you thought it would. The reflection that stared back at you in the large vanity mirror looked pitiful.
“Oh.” His tone softened, “Avi…I didn’t mean to push.” He turned around, hesitant to approach. His eyes were round pools of emotion. Your ears twitch at the sound of your own chosen name, one gale insisted you find- he qualified his nagging on saying ‘the dark urge isn’t a great name for such a gorgeous person.’  
“I didn’t know it would hurt this much, I felt… a stinging loss when I saw him. It got worse, when I got called that. Urgh- I don’t like this very much. Feeling like this. Unhappy.” Tears began to roll down your cheeks staining your skin with dark burgundy and black smears. You wiped them on your robe’s sleeves, setting your head in your hands again.
He placed a warm hand on your back, rubbing small circles.
“It’s ok to cry, I do it a lot.” He chuckled softly, kissing the crown of your head. He inhaled your hair’s scent, draping himself over you. A few tears trailed down your cheeks, you buried your head into your arms.
“You must think me weak.” The steaks of enchanted silver that danced in your hair faded into deep brown. Your ears shortened their length not as elegant, bones popped and reshaped, freckles and moles began to fade onto your skin. Scars, and marks and all. Your hair returned, short curly and shaggy, you looked now like a typical wood elf. What you were bred to be. Unremarkable.
“Not at all really…” he curled a strand of hair behind your twitching ear, the pads of his finger ghosting the fragile flesh. “Let me embrace you fully, it’s what you deserve.” His breath brushed against your ears; your skin itched under his touch. “It’s my apology.” His voice was light, “to show… my devotion to you.”
“You needn’t do any of that.” You chided, pushing in the chair, your robes hung off of you slightly. “I don’t wish to become another idolization, I’m but a mere mortal.”
“Nothing but mere, and anything but mortal.” He twirled a curl of yours, fingers braided in your hair. He cups your chin, tilting his head his pupils wide. His lips curled up into an easy smile. “You are mine, despite having… a rather unfortunate birth parent.” He giggled. He led you to the chair that draped his clothes, you curled up, embraced by his cloaks scent. He unlaced his sleeves, and the side of his shirt, finally tossing it at your head. You tucked it behind your head, watching his nimble hands remove his taught pants, the golden buttons glinting in the light. He stepped out of them, his calves flexing as he moved. It left him in his bloomers, which shimmered and crackled with weave. You had seen him in this state of undress multiple times before, every time it felt like the first, a breath of fresh air, an embrace, an urge much sweeter than the ones embedded in your flesh and crawled along your spine. He hummed, unlacing his underwear, again throwing them at your head. Should you be gross? You held it to your nose and inhaled, a rumble rising through your chest. a sound akin to a moan rose from gale’s throat. They smelt of sweat, ozone, and rosemary oil.
Of course, he applied rosemary oil to his crotch. He stretched, bending over as his bones stretched under his skin. “Come, sit up. Let me help you.” You followed his command, he worked diligently to unlace the corset that held your robes together. “I do rather like this look on you. Plum is such a becoming color.” His lips tickled your neck as he placed a knee fearfully close to your slowly heating core. “You look gorgeous, like this.” He kissed a mole on your cheek and another on your forehead; “much better than pretending to be something your not.” He removed the corset with ease,
his fingers hooking under your robe. He wiggled it over your head, a similar wrap shirt that he wore clad your shoulders. He sharply inhaled at the realization that that you didn’t wear your usual camisole underneath. Your breast peaks and nipples erect. “Oh, my love, what you do to me.” He kissed up your chin to the corner of your mouth, his hands slipping to the sides of your shirt to loosen the wrap.
You exhaled, leaning into his touch. Perhaps this was the one person able to make your urges feel at bay, to feel safe. A thought creeped into the back of your mushy skull, what if he wasn’t. The easy smile the lord held, his posture- warm and inviting. The sweetness he held in his eyes, how his hand caressed your shoulders, fell at your hips and drew you in. You could taste him, you could remember his scent, embedded in every primal part of your head. He smelt deeper than gale, whiskey and crude oil, musk and amber. Your skin itched to taste his sweat, and the coppery tang your tongue knew so well.  to trace the bites of the blade along his hips and stomach, the almond scented paint that clung to your hair. The clench of his thighs along your shoulders. You felt disgusting, fantasizing about another man’s touch in the presence of the one you loved.
“Gale- stop for a second.” You noted a flash of concern in his eye, he knelt back down again, tilting his head in a silent question. Tears budded again, as you held your head in your hands. “I am ashamed. I can’t… I’m terrified of my own thoughts. Flashes I see the lord, in the way I see you now. He will not leave, be gentler- and diligent” you paused trying to think how to phrase it. “To possibly… take my mind off things.”
He hummed in acknowledgement, “perhaps we should establish something, and you’re sweet for saying that. I’m glad you felt safe enough to tell me.” He sat back on his haunches. “Perhaps… the shower will help? Ill leave you to finish undressing if you feel uncomfortable.” He squeezed your shoulders, kissing your forehead. “I’ll depart for now then. Come join me when you feel ready.” His movements were fluid, hands drawing a sharp sigh from your lips. He left through the open doorway into the showers. His nails scratched against the doorway; your core ached immaculately. You finished off his work, the dark plum verses bright magenta robes draped against each other on the chair. You felt oddly exposed without your enchanted spells guarding you, waddling into the cedar and teakwood showers you felt more at peace. Gale was nowhere to be seen, but a satisfied groan emanated from the bright hallway ahead. You settled down on the stool testing the water on your hand before handling the wand. The water smooth and warm against your skin. The soaps and skin serums to remove dirt and dead skin smelt herbal. Tonics infused with healing potions, an intriguing way to go about things. You scrubbed your skin until it was red and raw, you felt clean but not clean enough. You sat in the steam of
the water for a moment, debating on continuing forward. You decided too, the warmth of the light and the pools beyond beckoning you forward.
The light was blinding once stepping out the hallway, plants and fauna lined the tiles surrounding the baths, a plush bed with towels and robes on top of it. a table next to it and a patterned robe with tassels. Candles, sherry and crystal goblets, candies and small sandwiches, a platter with fresh fruits and perfumes, and bottles that shone like gems. Gortash really pulled the full 9 yards. Towered over the bath, curiously was a statue of Mystra, her gaze focused on the bath itself, arms outstretched in a surrounding gesture, the sun perfectly framed around her head. It was almost reminiscent of a greenhouse. Gales head peaks between the waves of foam. He floated upwards, paddling to the side of the bath to grip the edge and prop his head in his arms.
“Feeling better?” he beamed, rose petals and violets clung to his hair, they floated on the surface of the foam. You walked towards the steps, dipping your toe in carefully. It was a wonderful temperature.
“a little.” You hum, lowering your weary limbs in the water. “it’s a little unnerving to have a statue of my partner’s ex staring at my naked form. I feel judged.”
“Often statues of Mystra are depicted with her eyes closed…” he swam closer to you, “I am... uncertain why this one is open, perhaps its just another god that looks similar.”
“Let us hope it’s just that.” You settled on a side edge seat, the sun a warm lazy glow on your skin, a warm and floral breeze churned the air. He almost seated himself in your lap, his head tucked into the alcove of your neck, his face a mottled pink from the hot water. His eyes laid shut; his breath warm against your chin. You leaned your head against the tile, allowing him the access to fully intwine with your limbs. You began to become drowsy, tapping his shoulder you escorted him to the bed, comfortably placed within a warm sunbeam.
You both curled up again like lizards on a hot rock. An overwhelming sense of contented sleepiness taking hold of you. Your dreams, or what you could call them flitted with the same images of the man, contented to a stretch within your core- they filled you with bliss. His voice moved against your senses like molasses, crashing wave after wave as his blunt nails dug into his skin. He smelt of crude oil again, wearing a black undershirt underneath his overalls that hung off the dips of his hips, the pale skin contrasted with dark moles on the edges of his thighs. His
nose was buried in your neck, one of his hands covering your mouth and nose the scent of gasoline making you lightheaded.
Keep quiet his voice hissed in your recesses, you bit down on his hand, drooling onto his fingers like a fool. Another snap of his hip’s heaven sent to your core.
He suggested a bath after making a mess of your temple attire, his warm hands scratched your scalp in the cool night of the moon.
His poor bhaalist, his assassin, right hand to the tyrant, his.
You slept on the cool bed curled up on his chest, nose crested his sternum listening to his sighs and mumbling as he slept.
But that was under the moon, you lived in the sun now,
You stretched your legs out a pinging pain setting off in your calf. he muttered, adjusting his body to snuggle closer. His legs intertwined with yours, a throbbing heat coming from his crotch, you could feel the weight on your thigh- a gentle twitch now ang again.
“Gale- “you whisper.
“Mmph.” Was his plain response, rolling over to face you, his eyes closed shut. He had a slow and easy smile on his lips. Rain began to patter on the big glass roof, the vibration of the droplets making small ripples and rivulets from the puddles that gathered. You traced the curve of his chest, your fingers knitted through the hair on his skin.
“Do you love me, gale.”
An eye snapped open. He began to laugh, loud and throaty his cheeks pink. “what a silly question!” His tone changed, one more serious and concerned. “Is something troubling you? A thought deeming you not worthy of my affections?” He raised his brow.
“More memories.” You rub your eyes, “the lord permeates most of them, I feel… disgusting to say the least.”
“it’s not your fault- “he rubs your shoulder, his fingers tracing the soft scars from your flaying. “You had no memory, and frankly that was previous- you don’t mind my discussion of Mystra, so I won’t mind your discussion of… gortash.” He pauses, chewing his inner cheek. “Tell me about him, little love.” You were the one to pause, closing your eyes, searching for the best recollection. “His skin was warm, for once. It made an aching difference in my heart. The only flesh I’ve touched was to consume, or in an act of kill. This was even not to say- that those I’ve killed were simply safe in death. I’ve rutted against and filled with- the same cooled flesh. Malleable,
stiff to the touch. Cold.” You shiver out of instinct. “He liked how I looked without the glamor; he said I was beautiful. He told me I was pretty.” A tear pricks at your eye, you warbled slightly continuing your thought. “no one has told me that before. A part of me felt- that glamor was the only way to command respect. Who would respect the most common creature? Not gifted with power and strength like Sarveok, or fantastic shape changing like Orin. A part of me thinks he’s lying, as is his nature. But Enver- Gortash, I know he was hurting too. It makes it worse, those shared moments we had.”
“You were gifted with plenty more than your family ever will have. Orin isn’t the least bit as beautiful, in my frank opinion. I never liked the silver hair on you, clashes too much with your eyes.” He cups your chin, his thumb stroking absently at the sides of his chin.
“Tell me how I look then, in this form.” You plead softly.
He sighs dreamily before beginning. “What I see is a witty and intelligent person. their skin dotted with freckles like the night sky. A mole on the most kissable spots on their face. Pretty and rosy cheeks, greater in hue than any in a garden. A voice like a ringing bell, or the clink of a crystal goblet filled with wine. Their skin as brown as a deep butterscotch, its taste smoother than any whiskey. Don’t get me started on your scent- “
You giggle, kissing his lips sweetly. “No- do, I’m enjoying it.”
He rolls his eyes playfully, “oh I will, but if you insist…” he kisses your nose, rolling you onto your back, your thighs seated on his low hips. He bent down adding kisses as emphasis with his words. “you’ve always smelt like the weave- fresh and bright like citrus fruits.”
“Must be the oranges I eat for breakfast.”
“Oh, hush you- “he kisses you, his hands wrapping into your long curly locks. His lips trail down your chin to your neck, he inhaled deeply. “One thing I do not like is your adult name you chose, with your 50 years of living and you chose ‘Avrice.’”
“It sounds nice- “you insisted. You were 50, which was around late 20’s early 30’s for a human.
“My sweetest love- do you know what ‘Avrice’ means.” He asked within your neck, to this you shrug. He snorts within your skin, placing small kisses on the alcove of your neck. “It means greed.”
“Explains a lot. I’m certainly greedy for your affections. I’m greedy to not be known as just-another-bhaalspawn. I am more than bountiful in company- I lust after all that life has to offer.”
he laughed again, his voice like the warm roar of the hearth, “indeed you are my love, indeed you are.”
“Can I try… something else, I’m in the mood, I think.” He hummed; his gaze soft.
“Really? I couldn’t tell.” You replied sarcastically, shifting your thigh up. The pressure earned a soft groan from him.
“You know how I don’t last as long as you? I have a small idea on that end. Perhaps I start you off sooner, if that makes sense.”
“I’d be up for it- as long as you are gentle.”
He hummed again, this time in acknowledgement. His movements were slow, deliberate. A quick cast of buzzing mage hand, which busied itself on uncorking a bottle of oil.  It scooped some of the liquid out spreading the lubricant out on its fingers. The oil smelt of jasmine and tropical flowers. He helped your legs into a bent position before seating himself on your waist, you felt one of the soft buzzing digits braces against your opening. Gale cupped your cheek bowing over for a kiss, his hands reminded you of the branches of a willow tree. His hips gently rocked against your torso, a slow and satisfied grunt drawing from his lips. He kissed you again, showing a devotion to the way your lips felt on his. Then you felt it, a soft buzz underneath a bulb of spongey tissue, the incorporeal hand must’ve entered quite easily into you for you not to notice. The thumb of the spell pressed against your clit, enveloping around it slightly. A warm heat spread steadily to your core, not enough to be considered stereotypically pleasurable, but quite lovely, nonetheless.
You wound an arm around him, your hand rooting itself in his curls as his thighs and calves spilt off your body onto the sheet below. He smiled between kisses, wanting your other arm around him. His beard scratched at your skin in a nice way. Your hands navigated to his hips, letting out a low gurgle when one of the fingers drew circles inside of you. He chuckles lightly as your hip bones tap his stomach. You felt it fleetingly, a little burst of flame that made your chest tighten. How quick was that? He could tell too, a peck to your nose before the intensity of the spell picked up, the thumb against your clit lightening up for a moment- before engulfing you again.
“That is one then, hm?” he smiled sweetly, combing a hand through your hair. “I shall make my way down- unless you have any objections.”
“No- “you murmur softly, scratching the back of the wizard’s scalp, a contented rumble emanated from his chest. with your legs lowered his sat back on your thighs He palmed your chest, the pads of his fingers grazing over your nipple. He gently pinched the flesh, hardening it between his fingers. The other neglected nipple went into his mouth,
his lips encompassed the flesh of your chest. he sighed, a happy one at that, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration.
The other hand not in use went to his groin, cupping and palming his balls quite gently. His hands traced the seam of his perinium, pressing up into the sensitive tissue just below the skin. His mouth and hand switched, leaving blooms of bruises and bites in his wake.
He began to mark the skin of the other breast, his tongue swirling around the pebbled nipple, eliciting a soft groan from you.  He began to kiss lower, his lips hovered over every freckle. Every mole was cataloged and memorized by his kiss, every scar traced and groped.
You admired the soft dip of his stomach, full of soup, he would always say. The warm curve of his hip, and the twitch of his ear. How his brow furrows, and the sunspots on his cheeks. The crinkle next to his eyes, and the smile lines and dimples on his cheeks. What a gorgeous man you’ve managed to acquire, you were more thankful every day.
He spread your legs like softened butter, kissing down your calves and thighs. He settled back onto his knees, his joints popping underneath the weight. The fingers curled inside of you, a stretch warming up your walls. He braced the sides of your legs, bowing his head to hover over cunt. He stretched his leg out, laying off his stomach, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your legs locked his head in place, spit dribbling off his tongue. The pressure lightened off your clit, the tip of his tongue tracing anxious circles. His lips covered the sensitive nerve, providing ample suction. The transparent fingers lovingly stroked your insides, cramping down on them ever so slightly. His lips were downy and soft, her eyes pools of deep dark brown. They gazed at you through long brown lashes, they fluttered every so often.
“You are a treat- “he was almost breathless, enraptured with your pleasure. His tongue was warm and thick against your folds. His kisses against your clit were sloppy and wonderful, drool and slips of tongue, his beard scratched your inner thighs deliciously.
You bucked your hips against his nose, to this he squeezed your thighs to stay still. He removed himself, sweeping down quickly to your inner thighs. He quickly bit down; his teeth left indents.
You groaned again, your abs tightening, you felt a quick forced rush like a cramp in your lower abs. Gale chirped in surprise, a wide smile growing on his lips.
“Aha! I have turned on the tap it seems.” His tongue memorized the outlines of your folds, sweeping up the salty ejaculate. Your face burned. Gale’s gaze turned quizzical “this hasn’t happened before?”
“No- not really.”
His eyes widen, and brows raise. “The child of bhaal I know very well- that has done heinous things that in the eyes of any a god would have them hell bound, hasn’t had their tap turned.”
“there’s only so much you can do with a corpse.”
He huffs, a slight frown at the mention. “Not even your noble friend?”
“No, no- I suppose not. I received pleasure- yes, but not that. It feels odd.”
“it’s completely normal, don’t worry your head.” He stroked your thigh, shifting his weight back to his haunches. “Is this position ok?” he slid his knees under your thighs,
The hand dissipated inside of you, another jingled into life to grab the bottle of lubricant. He poured it over his hands and shaft, lubricating it. he smoothed the rest of the hydrating oil onto your knees, giving both a peck.
He lined himself with your entrance, holding your hips before leaning forward into you. His head bowed, lips grazing yours as he let out a slow and shaky moan. He hit hilt, a tight squeeze forcing a rumble from his chest.
“Gods- “he hissed, “look how tight you are now- for me- so sweet like this.” He nestled his head into your neck, pulsing slow shallow strokes into you. “My pretty star, hm? Does this feel good?”
“Quite lovely- thank you” you gasp out, pressing him closer into your skin. Your toes curled uncomfortably, yet your heart sang. The buzzing returned to your clit, the sounds from your cunt were absolutely sinful, wet and erotic- followed by the steady slap of gales thighs against your ass. Again, you felt a taught pressure in your groin, catching gale off guard. Moans fell from his lips, as he canted his hips into you. You could feel his cock head nestling near your cervix. Your eyes clamped shut, your thighs steeled around him. He let out another happy groan, buried now balls deep inside of you. You rocked together in earnest, happy sobs leaving your lips as a sweet numbness spread throughout your body.
His breath was warm against your neck, leaving scattered kisses along the alcove. His thrusts became languid, like ocean waves, another orgasm crashed through you. Gale let out a louder hiss, his teeth scraped against the soft skin of your neck.   “At this rate. I’m about to break- can you cum for me once more?”  he whispered against the cusp of your ear. You nodded feverishly, your hands scratching up his spine, he lifted your legs over shoulders using your thighs to brace and stabilize his weight. His thrusts now were sloppy and excitable, kissing your calves and knees.  You reached for him, holding his
hand. His breaths puffing out, as he rutted into you, your knees folded back as he found a rhythm. He began to sputter out, kissing you sloppily, his mouth hot and tongue needy. He cried out, buried deep within you. You felt a warm rush as he rode out his orgasm, another snap within your core had you shattering like a mirror. Another warm rush cascaded around you, dripping down and around his crotch.
“The tap turns!” he exclaims breathless, seated within your heat. He softens inside you, turning you to the side, and flopping next to you.
You felt fresh in your newly laundered robes, they smelt like roses. It seems the bath had a similar effect on your companions. All left contented, a flush of alcohol on their cheeks, and a pep in their newly shiny step.
You held hands with Gale taking your leaves, the less they knew the better.
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niobiumao3 · 2 years ago
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Havoc Marauder Interior
Someone made a post about this a while ago but apparently they de-activated so it is possibly lost to the mists of time. Here is what I put together for myself as a writing reference. Image heavy, meta heavy.
Last edit: 2024/10/29
Edits: Replaced garbage text layout with actual ship overhead. Realized the two concept art images face different directions. This likely explains the magical moving jump seats. Also added discussion of a cargo hold. Added discussion of ship dimensions (specifically length). Replaced old guesstimates with numbers from Dawn of Rebellion. Added commentary about the magical seat. Added comment about the belly airlock and updated the floor plan.
I think people under- and over-estimate the Marauder's interior potential. Given its overall size and intended use (transporting about 10-15 troops plus assorted equipment and providing air support in a forward area), there's not much room left for creature comforts.
Except the Batch aren't 10-15 people, they're 5, and the shuttle is referred to as modified numerous times. This leaves plenty of room to make assumptions and freeform. So, as to what we have actual, visual evidence for from episodes and concept art, here is a rudimentary floor plan:
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An important point about the two concept art images: they do NOT face the same direction. The top image faces to the aft/back of the ship, i.e. the tailgun. The second image faces to the fore/front of the ship.
Number key:
1: We know this is where the ramp and door are located from War Mantle and Metamorphsis.
2: We know about this upper storage area from Cut and Run
3: The access to the tail gun has changed visual from TCW s07e02 and various TBB episodes.
4: Access to a floor hatch with a narrow, vertical 'airlock' can be seen briefly in Bounty Lost.
The Airlock
With thanks to @megmca for reminding me of this: there's a narrow, belly-hatch airlock. We see it briefly in Bounty Lost, when they attach to the escape pod Omega has commandeered and Wrecker brings her in.
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For all of you wondering what airlock-access the ship has, this is it.
The Magically Appearing/Disappearing Seat
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In Cut and Run we have this moment with Hunter and Omega, but in most other shots each of these consoles has only one seat (eg. Tech and Echo in prior frames). I think this is actually NOT a magically appearing seat. I think it's the other console seat, because I suspect they can be moved. I base this one this shot from Replacements:
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That looks like a seat with a moveable base.
Obviously this is bad design for a ship which is doing barrel rolls and what-not, so I have to assume they're magnetically locked. Even if it is the same seat, in the shots right before that one above, Omega walks up and it's not in that space. So it's almost like the scene was longer and was shortened, and we missed a few frames of her or Hunter unlocking it and moving it over.
Meta Discussions
tl;dr: I think of the Marauder as a small fishing vessel or a van-conversion RV. You can put a lot into a small space if you get creative.
Bathroom I know the writers have made weird assertions there isn't one and omg they all smell gross from no hygiene but that makes zero sense. Soldiers are constantly under stress, they're getting injured, they need to stay clean when possible or they're going to get sick and die from a systemic infection in short order. Anyone who's glanced in the general direction of military history knows this. You can argue about clone expendibility all you want but the Batch minimally qualify in that regard, being Nala Se's pet project. Can you imagine losing one of them to a staph infection because there's nowhere for them to bust out some no-rinse antimicrobial soap or get their scalp clean? I'm not saying they'll be doing photoshoots in between missions (well maybe Hunter would ) but, come on. (And are you going to tell me Mr. Sensor Sensoria is cool with doing long hauls with 4 people who don't bathe? Just, no.)
But that much aside, anyone who's ever been in an RV, a commercial airliner, or a modest-sized sea vessel knows you can cram a bathroom into a tiny space. Yes, you're going to be spinning in circles doing things, but the benefits of a spot to clean up, manage waste, and tend to injuries far outweigh any other use of that area. So regardless of what the writers say, a transport without a minimal refresher (to use the SW term) is counter to the ship's designed use. It has to be able to accommodate Wrecker, of course, but in the end it can double as storage when not in use. There is zero reason to not have one. Added to this, we now officially have a length for the Marauder, which is 30.3 meters (see below). RVs which are 1/5 of that size have bathrooms. You're going to tell me the Marauder doesn't?
If nothing else, since the TCW episodes and the beginning of S1 have pointed to them going on extended deployments with long hops between stops, they're going to need one or constantly be handling waste in much less efficient and sustainable ways.
Added to all of this, it's specifically called a modified variant of an Omicron. We're probably meant to think this means 'Tech would like to fly faster than the GAR and ship engineers think is reasonable for a shuttle' but IMO it extends to changes like this as well. So, there's a refresher in there, feel free to choose a spot. Right across from the fold out racks is a good candidate because in most imagery it's just weapons storage, and there's an entire upper-deck space which you could use for that.
Galley Definitely not one of these. The Batch are eating rations any time they're not on Kamino. You can make an argument they (and all clone units) have cook kits for improvised eating in the field; in the Batch's case I suspect that's a given, as they'd just start doing it because who's going to stop them? Additionally, the sheer amount of rations you would need to carry around to feed Wrecker would be ridiculous. (Remember when Wrecker talks about never being full in S2E13? I feel like this is an indication they did and still do, in fact, have to improvise a lot of additional caloric intake. Hunter probably thought Cut and Suu's farm was a genius idea. 'Grow your own food! Wrecker will never be hungry again! Fucking incredible.' Then Tech got the ship impounded.) I think you can argue for one being added, like with the refresher. Do they actually need those weapons racks anymore? Definitely no. But, it's not on there by default.
Beds As you can see in the concept art above, there are at least 3 racks that fold out from the wall on the port side. They're at a minimum wide enough to accommodate Wrecker, they may also be long enough for him to not need to curl up (unclear because in this shot from Bounty Lost his knees are bent and he's hugging Lula):
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Three is a weird number since originally there were four of them. I figure the options here are:
The pilot/copilot/second row seats all look 100% more comfortable than the racks. We actually see Tech sleeping in one, at one point, so this has actual evidence to support it.
It's war time, they're never all asleep simultaneously. Someone is always flying the ship or on watch.
The floor is in effect the same as a rack, arguably preferable as you can't fall off it in the event Something Happens while you're out. So, one of them might actually be ON the floor sometimes.
They're not really intended to sleep on the ship for extended periods, but narratively we're lead to believe they have, many times, and needed to make adjustments to it as a result. Notice how quickly Wrecker whipped up a bed for Omega? IMO, not the first time they've done something like that--they did it for themselves first.
Cargo Hold Based on that screenshot of Omega above and the below shot from Cut and Run, the 'hold' of the ship is actually a storage area overhead, running the length of the ship. In that shot above of the rack, there are a series of yellow rungs which imply you can climb up somewhere on the port side. This is probably alternate access to that same overhead storage space.
In Cut and Run we see Echo, Omega, and Tech hide in it, coming back out from a slide-open hatch:
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Given Tech's height this is probably somewhere around 1.5m high.
We can be reasonably certain the hold isn't under the ship, or at least storage there is minimal, due to a couple of things:
In all instances where the hyperdrive has been pulled, it's under the ship on the belly, and takes up a reasonable amount of space. Eg., in Retrieval, here's a bunch of stuff which has been pulled from the ship:
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In instances where they're working on the ship from the outside, like in Cornered, the sides and belly never have panels open which contain empty space unless the ship's hardware have been removed to reach something:
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So, the cargo hold is probably that space on the top from Cut and Run. It doesn't have much room; reasonably speaking, the area with the weapons and sleeping racks was probably a cargo hold as well, they just converted it to a more general purpose area. (So IMO this is a stronger argument for putting a commercial airliner-style bathroom in place of the weapons racks, particularly once they bail on the Empire.)
Dimensions - updated 11/3/23 Dawn of Rebellion has a Bad Batch section, and indicates the Marauder is 30.3m in length, 36.65m wide (presumably with the wings extended, and 12.41m tall (this probably includes the central stabilizer).
I will edit this to update it as we get more pictures. Since the toys that I know of have no basis the show from an internal perspective I didn't include anything from them.
Image sources:
All screencaps by me. Use at will.
Marauder underlay
Bad Batch Concept Art, Marauder Interior
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trishmishtree · 2 months ago
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I'm not sure what I was thinking when I made this skirt.
Actually, I do know what the idea was. But it was kind of a dumb idea.
See, I made this wool cape back in 2022 for Capetember and thought it could have functioned as a nice skirt for winter. Unfortunately, my neck is way smaller than my waist, so the cape could not actually function as a skirt because the proportions were wrong. So I got more of that wool coating fabric and tried to make a calf-length modernized Edwardian princess skirt (the type with the raised waistline). The raised waist part is lined with a light cotton sateen, and the shortened hemline is stiffened with modern polyester sew-in non-woven interfacing.
It turns out that this wool coating fabric is so thick that it does not actually swish when it's cut as a 1/2 circle skirt the way it would swish as a 3/4 circle cape. It's also really bulky at the waist because I attached the raised waist/upper part and the skirt together at the waist seam, instead of cutting the whole thing into gores the way Edwardian princess skirts were actually made.
It has to be worn over a c0rset because otherwise it would get wrinkly and crumple at the waist when I bend over, which means that I also need to wear a camisole under the c0rset, and another layer over it to act as a c0rset cover, because my c0rset is dark blue and shows through white blouses. And it's a winter skirt, so I would also be wearing it over fleece-lined tights, which would then necessitate the addition of a slip/petticoat to keep the tights from clinging to the wool of the skirt when I walk. So that's 5 layers of clothing I'm wearing around my waist, before I even put the actual skirt and blouse on! No wonder wearing this outfit felt like I just cocooned my waist in layers and layers of fabric. It's definitely warm, but in an 'I'm wearing too many layers and they're all bunching at the waist" kind of way.
It looks nice on camera, but not flattering or comfortable in real life when I'm bending and moving in it. Also, it has decent-sized pockets, but they make the front of the skirt stick out weirdly, so that was also disappointing.
Here you can see that the raised waistline is lower in front but higher in back, to show off the effort I put into making my puffy-front blouse:
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This is the back-closing V-yoked Edwardian shirtwaist I made about 18 months ago and never photographed. It goes better with my floral circle skirt (and I actually do get a lot of wear out of it), but I'm pairing it with the black wool skirt here because the actual blouse that I made to go with this skirt isn't done yet.
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