#verdant sorceress

[dcs-fkin-mystics]

DC’s Magic Legacies: PoC Edition

Swamp Thing: Allec Holland —> Levi Kamei

Doctor Fate: Kent Nelson —> Khalid Nassour

Sargon the Sorcerer(ess): John Sargent —> Jaimini Sargent

Bloodwyn: Quintus Arcee —> Raphael Arcee

Wizard Shazam: Black Adam —> Bolt

Spectre: Jim Corrigan —> Crispus Allen

The Manitou: Raven —> Dawn

Verdant Sorcerer(ess): Po-Po —> Current Verdant Sorceress & Xanthe Zhou

[boom-bada-boom]

of the stone (and of the blood)

pjo and hades crossover :]

very, very slowly, rumors began to spread of a cursed mountain. the mountain itself was a deadly thing, always freezing cold with steep cliffs and sharp stone and a sort of impossible-to-navigate confusion to it that was only possible through the gods. but for the few that managed to make it far enough in, and managed to come back out, they often spoke of a figure. bloodied, stumbling, yet undeniably divine. with feet aflame, and always armed with some sort of weapon—a weapon that in and of itself extruded a feeling of bloody hunger. everything about him was bloody. one eye glowing red, like fire, like blood; one eye glowing green, like poison, like verdant life. most of all, they spoke of how he died, every time. he would stumble through the snowy wood, looking upon the world like he had never seen it, then wince, and grimace, and collapse to the ground. and the ground would suddenly begin bleeding too, crimson liquid pulling up from the ground to swallow the body whole. and yet the next person would see him again, just the same.

there was a mortal who heard these stories. of a god who bled and died and lived again—a being that so clearly belonged to the underworld and yet escaped it again and again and again. he wanted to do the same. he searched far and wide for a way to use the god’s power for himself, and found it in a sorceress, a witch. “this,” she spoke, holding a gemstone the length of a palm, diamond shaped and completely clear, “will hold anything. it will use its own strength against it to power itself. the gem itself shall not shatter until its wielder allows it to. just know—the longer your god is within, the more his power shall show itself outside the gem.” the mortal man did not listen too much to her warnings. what care did he have if the god’s power showed? so, he took the gem and paid the sorceress’s price: when he died and stayed dead, he would belong to her, not the underworld. he accepted, of course. the god never dies and stays dead and so he will not either; he’ll never have to pay the price.

there once was a prince of the underworld, and his father, and his mother, and his other mother, and his two lovers, and his house and everyone within. then there was no longer a prince of the underworld. hades came back, pulling himself from the styx with something like pride glimmering in his eyes. “he is growing stronger,” he tells his wife as they wait for their son to return in the privacy of the gardens, “he relies less and less upon the boons from the olympians.” and they talk, and talk, and wait, and wait. and the prince does not come back.

after the frantic worry passes, they search, of course. even the gods of above are called upon for help, though it isn’t hades who asks directly. the underworld is scoured through, and there are dozens of eyes searching the surface. “you cannot sense him?” the queen asks nyx for the nth time. “no,” the primordial goddess responds, patient with the frantic mother, “he is as hidden from my senses as he was from the olympians when this had all began. i cannot undo the cloak of darkness that veils him.” (nyx asks chaos why she cannot undo this power over zagreus. “he lives not just because of the parents that birthed him,” her own parent says, “he lives because of you, as well. because you stitched him back to life with your own power. those stitches remain. he is as much your child as theirs. then he must have inherited your darkness as much as you gifted him it—the power is his, now.”)

eventually, as the centuries pass, they slowly lose hope, and slowly give up. clearly, then, the prince had escaped and stayed escaped. clearly, then, he is out wandering the world without a second look back. that must be all there is to it. that has to be all there is to it.

(eventually, the underworld falls apart. sort of. it can’t really fall apart, because it is an undeniable piece of the universe, but it collapses, changes. something entirely vital and necessary to the underworld was buried in the fragments that made up the prince, and without him nothing could be the same. tartarus crumbles deeper down, closer to chaos than the surface now. the souls once there are relocated to the fields of punishment. in asphodel, the phlegethon’s banks die down—there is simply less fire to them now. similarly, the styx loses some of its color, perhaps because the prince no longer bleeds into it or bleeds it; it still carries them, but it can’t make it all the way home anymore. the house crumbles down to the tartarus below, or maybe it just fell apart into pieces—the castle built to replace it never feels quite the same. things change with the passing time.)

there once was a mortal man who could not die. he had a peculiar stone set within a necklace, blood-red and shaped like a diamond, about the length of a palm. (sometimes when his hand touched the stone, it came away bloody. he called it a bloodstone and did not ever realize the irony of it.) the man became a king, because how do you stop a man that stands up after you gut him clean?

there was once another mortal man, this one blessed with the gift of thievery. in the night, entranced by the gleaming red gem and the gold it lay in, he crept into the king’s chambers and stole the necklace right off his neck. the very next day, the king-who-could-not-die died (and paid the price for his deal). the man realized then that this necklace must have been more than just a pretty thing.

and so it went on: a man steals from another man; a man cuts the stone from his enemy’s neck and takes it; the gold chain falls apart but the gem stays exactly the same, perfect in every way. blood always followed it. and then petals. and then flowers. when it was near, there were strange shadows of three headed dogs and figures wielding weapons, bows and swords and spears and shields and more. rivers ran red nearby it (red as the styx had not been in centuries) before the color faded away once it was too far.

(sometimes, those of the underworld heard vague rumors of these things. demigods, they thought, bitter now at the thought of the prince they had not seen in eons and who had left them behind to wither away without him. the only spirit who could tell them the truth swore himself over to somewhere they could not reach—that first mortal man, so long ago.)

eventually, there was a sort-of legend about the cursed bloodstone. you would not die as you wielded it, until it inevitably left you behind to die without it.

eventually, there was a battle where mortals did not know the gem within their midst. in the aftermath, a prince-son buried a blood-red gem from the battlefield within his king-father’s tomb (poetic; the fates have always loved irony). in the aftermath, the tomb became something cursed and horrifying. (the more his power shall show itself outside the gem, a sorceress spoke eons ago. bloody rivers and white flowers and chilling darkness and burning light and the endless cycle of living and dying and living again. there were monsters in the tomb, but they were ghosts of things from a time frozen in history, blood and shadows and eyes aglow with verdant, life-green.)

it is here the story goes on into the present. the world had changed much since the days of a prince of the underworld, since the days of blood following stone, since the days of a son burying a father with something impossibly powerful for mortal beings. a demigod son of poseidon saved olympus, and then he and six others saved the world. they were all grown tired of prophecy and quest, and thus it was not well received when the oracle delivered another.

still, fate waits for no one, and so it is the son of poseidon, son of jupiter, and son of hades that set out on a quest to find a stone that history had largely forgotten. in the camp they left behind, demigods of all sorts try to figure out where the story had been told and what the story tells. (a centaur older than a young god does not quite remember a stone, and he never really knew of the world below. a god who once felt young and limitless with ardor recalls that once, long and long ago, there had been a prince he had liked and laughed with.)

it is here that a quest is taken and a journey began. they manage to meet the sorceress and the spirit she chained to herself. they trek into the underworld to figure out if they know anything because, hey, “underground royalty” the prophecy said. ares actually manages to be helpful for a demigod quest without annoying ulterior motives for once because he notices when bloody deaths seem to move in a pattern. the hunters and artemis appear for a short time. other stuff definitely occurs, including a few monster attacks.

(persephone grew bitter of children of hades for a reason.)

.

.

.

find the crimson pitfall in a cage of stone,

the missing piece of a place named home,

a god long unnamed and a song long unplayed,

underground royalty from a time long rearranged.

earth, air, and sea learn how to die,

and a child of death finally sees the falling sky.

[asexxxualerotica]

OC Muse List

~Dungeons & Dragons Muses~

Asterion Labrynthia: Minotaur prince in banishment from his kingdom. Quiet and gentle despite the great power and strength he wields. On a path of vengeance to avenge his killed parents.

Branwen Black: Ranger from the far north, raised and taught by an elite squad of mercenaries and huntsmen known as the Blackguard. Has a strangely innate connection to ravens and wolves.

Clover Brandyburke: Lagomore knight in service to a powerful archfey. On a quest to avenge his honor after his fiance left him on the altar. Serious and severe, and also naive to the mortal world.

Dariax Dendarrow: Goliath former bandit chief, abandoned after a disgraceful defeat to a young adventurer. Seeking to grow stronger to challenge the young adventurer again and defeat him.

The Devils of Emon: Based out of the Exandrian city of Emon, a band of adventurers named such for the surprisingly high number of tieflings in their crew.

Aquamarine: Tiefling rogue with ambitions to be the best thief in the region. Came to Emon and was immediately arrested for pickpocketing. Has an affinity for gems and trinkets.

Gamora Great-Bear: Orc warrior woman on a mission to find love, but just finding powerful monsters to defeat. Was similarly arrested, this time for exhibitionism, which she will do again.

Jeanne Ironwood: Woman driven by losses in her childhood to dragons. Trained by Percy DeRolo as an expert gunslinger and markswoman, and known for her cold and calculating demeanor.

Kyrie Targana: Tiefling performer who lost her arms to an abusive slaver. Was previously in a circus troupe with Omega and Thorne, and is now in a romantic relationship with Scourge.

Omega: Tiefling magician in a heated relationship with his succubus patron. Younger brother of Thorne. Definitely the most problem-attracting member of the crew.

Captain Scourge Maelstrom: Tiefling pirate captain and champion of the seas. Unofficial leader of the Devils, and the founding member. Captain of The Sea Devil, and tends to stay on his ship.

Thorne: Tiefling brawler known for getting drunk and getting into fights. Older brother of Omega. The most bristly member of the crew, often gets into fights with Jeanne late into the night.

Varris Alwyn: Tiefling warrior in loyal service to the Everlight. Seemingly ageless, and has a constant bet in the background by the rest of the Devils over whether he's really a dragon or an angel.

Verdant Wilde: Tiefling huntsman trained personally by Vex'ahlia DeRolo. Sent to Emon to keep an eye on things in Greystone Keep. Ended up forming a new adventuring crew alongside Jeanne.

Galatea the Golden-Scaled: Gladiatrix known for her gleaming golden battlekini. Left her life in the arena after repelling a raid on the city, seeing she could set out and do good elsewhere.

Jade Higurashi: Tiefling monk who was previously training to become a powerful sage for a local temple. After being thrown out, she turned to drinking and fighting to fill the gap they left.

Jaerik Aldraeyds: Changeling on a mission to find her true father in the Feywild. Unfortunately, her own naturally high libido and trend for falling to her enemy's lusts has delayed her quest incredibly.

Khadamori the Unbroken: Ulitharid warrior who was held in bondage by his own kin for most of his life. Eventually broke free and became a liberation leader, fighting to free slaves throughout the Underdark.

Korrin Vasailiis: Elven sorceress who made a deal with a demon to survive a horrible fate, and became a vampire in the process. Now on a quest to find new purpose, as her life is even longer than expected.

Lorelei Astolas: Tiefling lady of the night based out of Emon, a long-time rival and long-distance friend of the Ruby of the Sea. Known similarly as the Lady of Pearls for her pearlescent skintone.

Peregrine Weis: Tiefling warrior woman who was once a faithful weapon for a zealous church, but left when they murdered her wife. Now trying to make up for her loss, and find who she is without faith.

Riot Doomthighs: Goblin bard with a love for heavy metal music and a wild devotion to the death god Xyrnyxrys. Also known for wearing very suggestive (but still protective) armors during her performances.

Serena Clyffe: Former noble lady who fled her home after accidentally frying her would-be betrothed with lightning. Now on the run from the law, and experiencing the world for the first time. Absolutely loves storm chasing.

Terra Verdell: Wood elven druid who has never lived in high society and wants to experience all that she can of it. Left her home in the forests to seek fun. Has found plenty by way of encounters with monsters along the way.

Twilight Obsidia: Tiefling from the Shadowfell who left her abusive family to seek a better life. Currently trying to live her life as a witch in the woods, doing good for the locals and farmers.

Variax Frosthollow: White dragonborn warrior, strongest in his clan, with a destiny to become a true dragon. Was the son of a dragon himself, but was only a dragonborn rather than his true heir.

Velvetina Gingersnaps: Lagomore witch from the Feywild with a desire to see the world. Also with a desire to avoid all of the felonies and fines waiting for her in the Feywild for her past antics.

Wilder Evergreen: Tiefling-orc huntsman with a bone to pick with an archfey. Grew up in woods that neighbored the Feywild, and his sisters were taken when wandering in them. Out for blood.

Willow Wellmeadow: Lagomore druid settled in the mortal plane. Protector of the dense woodlands and warden of a portal to the Feywild. Tends to be kind and welcoming to visitors.

Xakos Duskwalker: Half-orc gunslinger and gunmaker. Studied in ancient artificing and restoration of mythical mechanisms. Had his research stolen and spread out, and is out to take it back.

Yora Vor'ziira: Dark elf rogue who was kept as a slave by her own kind and forced to fight in bloody combats. Was eventually helped free by a human slave, and now wanders the surface world seeking a home.

Zhekhar O'Shevaqt: Efreet lord, master of slaves and of coin in the City of Brass. Known for being incredibly charismatic and devilishly handsome. Also known for spoiling his toys utterly rotten.

Zurrak Hellbellows: Red Dragon, often in a human guise. Considered the King of Dragons, and reigns from a long-dormant volcano he has fashioned into a castle. Intent on conquest, and claiming more wealth.

[book--brackets]

Valdemar: Mage Wars by Mercedes Lackey (1994-1996)

It is an age when Valdemar is yet unfounded, its organization of Heralds yet unformed, and magic is still a wild and uncontrolled force.

Skandranon Rashkae is perhaps the finest specimen of his race, with gleaming ebony feathers, majestic wingspan, keen magesight and sharp intelligence. Courageous, bold, and crafty, Skan is everything a gryphon should be. He is the fulfillment of everything that the Mage of Silence, the human sorcerer called Urtho, intended to achieve when he created these magical beings to be his champions, the defenders of his realm--a verdant plain long coveted by the evil mage Maar.

Now Maar is once again advancing on Urtho's Keep, this time with a huge force spearheaded by magical constructs of his own--cruel birds of prey ready to perform any evil their creator may demand of them. And when one of Urtho's Seers wakes from a horrifying vision in which she sees a devastating magical weapon being placed in the hands of Maar's common soldiers, Skandrannon is sent to spy across enemy lines, cloaked in the protective of Urtho's powerful Spell of Silence.

Sorcerer Royal by Zen Cho (2015-2019)

At his wit’s end, Zacharias Wythe, freed slave, eminently proficient magician, and Sorcerer Royal of the Unnatural Philosophers—one of the most respected organizations throughout all of Britain—ventures to the border of Fairyland to discover why England’s magical stocks are drying up.

But when his adventure brings him in contact with a most unusual comrade, a woman with immense power and an unfathomable gift, he sets on a path which will alter the nature of sorcery in all of Britain—and the world at large…

Valdemar: Vows and Honor by Mercedes Lackey (1988-1998)

She was Tarma. Born to the Clan of the Hawk of the nomadic Shin'a'in people, she saw her entire clan slain by brigands. Vowing blood revenge upon the murderers, she became one of the sword-sworn, the most elite of all warriors. And trained in all the forms of death-dealing combat, she took to the road in search of her enemies.

She was Kethry. Born to a noble house, sold into a hateful "marriage", she fled life's harshness for the sanctuary of the White Winds, a powerful school of sorcery. Becoming an adept, she pledged to use her talents for the greatest good. Yet unlike other sorcerers, Kethry could use worldly weapons as well as magical skills. And when she became the bearer of a uniquely magical sword that drew her to those in need, Kethry was led to a fateful meeting with Tarma.

United by sword-spell and the will of the Goddess, Tarma and Kethry swore a blood oath to carry on their mutual fight against evil. And together, swordsmaster and sorceress set forth to fulfill their destiny....

The Kingston Cycle by C. L. Polk (2018-2021)

In an original world reminiscent of Edwardian England in the shadow of a World War, cabals of noble families use their unique magical gifts to control the fates of nations, while one young man seeks only to live a life of his own. 

Magic marked Miles Singer for suffering the day he was born, doomed either to be enslaved to his family's interest or to be committed to a witches' asylum. He went to war to escape his destiny and came home a different man, but he couldn't leave his past behind. The war between Aeland and Laneer leaves men changed, strangers to their friends and family, but even after faking his own death and reinventing himself as a doctor at a cash-strapped veterans' hospital, Miles can't hide what he truly is. 

When a fatally poisoned patient exposes Miles' healing gift and his witchmark, he must put his anonymity and freedom at risk to investigate his patient's murder. To find the truth he'll need to rely on the family he despises, and on the kindness of the most gorgeous man he's ever seen.

The Faerie Wars Chronicles by Harbie Brennan (2003-2011)

When Henry Atherton helps Mr. Fogarty clean up around his house, he expects to find a mess and a cranky old man; what he doesn't expect to find is Pyrgus Malvae, crown prince of the Faerie realm, who has escaped the treacherous Faeries of the Night by traveling to the human world through a portal powered by trapped lightning. An egomaniacal demon prince, greedy glue factory owners Brimstone and Chalkhill, and the nefarious Lord Hairstreak, leader of the Faeries of the Night, all dream of ruling the Faerie realm and are out to kill Pyrgus.

Enlisting the help of his sister, Holly Blue, and his new friend, Henry, Pyrgus must get back to the Faerie world alive before one of his many enemies gets to him instead. But how many portals are open, and can Pyrgus find the right one before it falls into the wrong hands?

The Ordinary Princess by M. M. Kaye (1980)

Along with Wit, Charm, Health, and Courage, Princess Amy of Phantasmorania receives a special fairy christening gift: Ordinariness. Unlike her six beautiful sisters, she has brown hair and freckles, and would rather have adventures than play the harp, embroider tapestries . . . or become a Queen. When her royal parents try to marry her off, Amy runs away and, because she's so ordinary, easily becomes the fourteenth assistant kitchen maid at a neighboring palace. And there . . . much to everyone's surprise . . . she meets a prince just as ordinary (and special) as she is 

The Little White Horse by Elizabeth Goudge (1946)

When orphaned young Maria Merryweather arrives at Moonacre Manor, she feels as if she's entered Paradise. Her new guardian, her uncle Sir Benjamin, is kind and funny; the Manor itself feels like home right away; and every person and animal she meets is like an old friend. But there is something incredibly sad beneath all of this beauty and comfort--a tragedy that happened years ago, shadowing Moonacre Manor and the town around it--and Maria is determined to learn about it, change it, and give her own life story a happy ending. But what can one solitary girl do?

Dr. Greta Helsing by Vivian Shaw (2017-2024)

Meet Greta Helsing, doctor to the undead. After inheriting a highly specialised, and highly peculiar, medical practice, Dr Helsing spends her days treating London’s undead for a host of ills: vocal strain in banshees, arthritis in barrow-wights and entropy in mummies. Although barely making ends meet, this is just the quiet, supernatural-adjacent life Greta’s dreamed of since childhood.

But when a sect of murderous monks emerges, killing human undead and alike, Greta must use all her unusual skills to keep her supernatural clients – and the rest of London – safe.

Of Mermaids and Orisa by Natasha Bowen (2021-2022)

Simi prayed to the gods, once. Now she serves them as Mami Wata—a mermaid—collecting the souls of those who die at sea and blessing their journeys back home.

But when a living boy is thrown overboard, Simi does the unthinkable—she saves his life, going against an ancient decree. And punishment awaits those who dare to defy it.

To protect the other Mami Wata, Simi must journey to the Supreme Creator to make amends. But something is amiss. There’s the boy she rescued, who knows more than he should. And something is shadowing Simi, something that would rather see her fail. . . .

Danger lurks at every turn, and as Simi draws closer, she must brave vengeful gods, treacherous lands, and legendary creatures. Because if she doesn’t, then she risks not only the fate of all Mami Wata, but also the world as she knows it.

Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust (2017)

Sixteen-year-old Mina is motherless, her magician father is vicious, and her silent heart has never beat with love for anyone--has never beat at all, in fact, but she'd always thought that fact normal. She never guessed that her father cut out her heart and replaced it with one of glass. When she moves to Whitespring Castle and sees its king for the first time, Mina forms a plan: win the king's heart with her beauty, become queen, and finally know love. The only catch is that she'll have to become a stepmother.

Fifteen-year-old Lynet looks just like her late mother, and one day she discovers why: a magician created her out of snow in the dead queen's image, at her father's order. But despite being the dead queen made flesh, Lynet would rather be like her fierce and regal stepmother, Mina. She gets her wish when her father makes Lynet queen of the southern territories, displacing Mina. Now Mina is starting to look at Lynet with something like hatred, and Lynet must decide what to do--and who to be--to win back the only mother she's ever known...or else defeat her once and for all.

[musingmelsuinesmelancholy]

Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of witches

Our muse, our fate, our life, our doom

To thee we do cry proud banished children of Eve

Rejoicing in this; thy verdant valley

Turn then, thy eyes of star-fire toward us

And after this, our beheading, may we be made worthy of the fruits of the Serpent

O’ shinning, O’ dreadful, O’ Pale queen

Drown and incinerate us, that we may be made worthy to bear the fire

Hail, bright star of the sea!

Heavens own Queen blest

Ever Shinning

Gate of heavenly healing

Font of magic

Taking that sweet Ave

That the serpent spoke

Peace confirm within us

Hailing Eves name

Break the captives fetters

Starlight upon the waters pour

All our ills expelling

Every bliss implore

Show thyself a Queen!

Sorceress all exceeding

Most beauteous and shinning

Freed from impurity, preserve us

Broken and remade

To our oaths keep us

Make our way secure

As the sea, by thy sky-strung pearls

We navigate

Through the highest heaven

To the darkest depths

We honor thee

You who light the way

[junkyardisles]

swappers i went over in da ask but i can quickly touch on their dynamic cause of me spending the last 6 years crafting the ssa cores' dynamic for my canon. thing. idk what u'd call it? i accidentally do the 15 y/o is buds with a 29 y/o who's their mentor thing again a lot of the swappers are teenagers, youngest is rubble rouser (they/he/ae) who's 14. and then a lot of them are in their late 20s or early 30s, and then night shift (he/him) is god knows how old doom stone (she/her) is close with hoot loop (they/she/xe) since they brought her to life but she also kinda became fire kraken (she/her)'s guardian figure, and similarly freeze blade (he/him) hangs around trap shadow (he/him) who helps him out with stuff. fire kraken and freeze blade also are trained by blast zone (he/him) and wash buckler (he/him) since those two knew eachother prior n demonstrate opposing elements working together well putting myself on blast real fast btw VV

npcs are the most underdeveloped part so far admittedly. the council has more members who served in absence of the skylanders, the chieftess (esmeralda) was a strong sorceress in her prime + is tessa's guardian, tessa's a young scruffy vulpid (fox/anteater things) who meets flynn and thinks he's so god damn cool!!!!!, avril is a gnome i dunno her shtick yet, THE TECH GUARDIAN when they get unevilised they go to woodburrow and sell hats as if nothing ever happened, sharpfin catches my eye the most but i'm debating what development things to pull for him (he knew tessa based on unused dialogue and had to be rescued) he doesn't like shellshock tho cloudbreak is pretty contained so i'm not actually changing that much with it, just trying to make it seem even more contained if that makes sense. it's in the southern hemisphere and i thought it'd be fun to have it be heavily south america inspired at times but i've been slacking off on including that for my canon as well (aka where the idea came from). cloudbreak has megafauna and less magic, so mt. cloudbreak replenishes the noticeably small amount of magic within the world already, and the ancient elementals consist of the flashfin (represents the marshes n swamps), terrasquid (represents the barrens), frosthound (represents the frigids n mountains), and the tree spirit (represents the verdant)

a lot less of cloudbreak's fauna has direct elemental ties too, instead being tied to their environment around them. however! some skylands species had ended up in cloudbreak n became invasive, also adopted new looks. vulpids, hippoids (hippo/horse mix. tuk and gorm lawl), kangarats, boghogs, n whatnot are some common cloudbreak species

petrified darkness is cloudbreak's version of traptanium. instead of the blastee(?) Turning Evil they basically get overloaded with adrenaline and magic, kicking their fight response into high drive. the less energy and/or magic someone has the more they'll be able to control it. also when you break the crystals it doesn't hurt them and they just become tired afterwards :) also specifically on greebles, they're weird marsupials because cloudbreak is also australia and they eat bugs. their ears serve as vibration detectors with a bone inside

while this bit is their actual ear that hears things

also they're tarsiers in my mind

[curseswithin]

gentle hands slide across the dragon's back, petting it gently, nails making soft, tapping sounds against the soft scales.　一　 @psielapki / chihiro

more  than  the  little  growl  issuing  deep  within  the  dragon's  neck,  the  girl  may  feel  the  wind  trailing  past  her  fingers,  flowing  over  the  pearly  scales  like  a  summer  brook.  the  dragon's  armor  is  pale,  opalescent  enough  to  mirror  some  of  the  sky  blue,  the  shrine's  earthy  floor  and  the  verdant  foliage  surrounding  them.  the  spirit  bows  his  long  neck,  river-green  gaze  fixating  onto  the  girl,  watching  her  in  silence,  with  keenness.

 the  wind  hums  around  them,  the  surrounding  trees  sigh.  the  scales  beneath  chihiro's  fingers  begin  to  rattle,  to  fly  loose  as  if  taken  by  the  gust.  hundreds,  thousands  of  scales  billow  into  the  air  in  a  cloud  of  silvery  petals,  and  from  their  midst  a  palm  is  offered.  

 "  i  knew  we'd  meet  again,  chihiro.  do  you  remember  me?  "

 for  the  pardon  of  his  crimes,  he'd  vowed  to  keep  chihiro  safe,  to  watch  over  her.  perhaps  the  very  moment  her  pink  shoe  splashed  into  his  river  wove  their  paths  together,  like  the  glimmering  purple  threads  binding her  hair.

 he  isn't  doing  this  for  zeniba,  although  the  witch's  words  do  bind  him.  he  is  indebted  to  the  sorceress,  to  chihiro,  but  he'd  do  this  regardless,  out  of  something  greater  than  responsibility,  something  like  an  eternal  summer's  day  within  the  confines  of  his  dragon  heart.  zeniba  calls  it  love.  maybe  such  a  thing  can  exist  in  the  twilight  between  worlds.

 remembering  naught  of  the  spirits  would  be  better  for  the  girl,  and  so  he  dutifully  wishes.  little  more  does  he  desire  than  to  be  the  breeze  that  makes  her  steps  feel  light  when  all  else  is  heavy.  yet  her  words  bind  him  as  much  as  zeniba's  --  do  you  promise  we'll  meet  again?

 i'm  sure  of  it,  he'd  said.  

the  green  of  his  eyes  glimmers  like  the  river  floor  in  daylight.  gladness  is  a  tide  that  swells  within  him  as  her  pretty  dark  gaze  beholds  him  as  it  once  did,  perceiving  his  form  instead  of  traveling  through  it  unseeing.  for  a  moment,  she  is  again  spirited  away,  beyond  the  shrine's  barrier.  for  a  moment,  they  are  once  more  reunited.

[yellowfingcr]

Wrapped in thin yellow cloth—the brilliant yellow of sunflowers, that is—comes a suspiciously heavy, angular package, a note attached to it. Even before unwrapping, it isn’t hard at all to feel the leathery edges of a book, and a rather thick one at that. Upon removing the fabric, a cover in burgundy red is revealed, a little worn but still in good shape. The title, in golden letters, reads The Serenades of the Silken Dawn (Vol. I), and the very first page comes with an illustration that leaves little doubt of the genre: Framed by red roses, an evening sky in vibrant blue and pink, a thoughtful sorceress on her balcony, an armored figure kneeling in front of her, offering a lute on a pillow.

The note, written in the elegant calligraphy of someone who clearly writes a lot, reads as follows: ‟Dear Heysel, since the stars have predicted some sort of holidays being upon us: I didn’t forget that you were interested in Tala’s story—and from what you’ve told me about why you like The Ballad of Blade and Bitterroot, I’m almost certain you will enjoy this one as well! The whole world of the Silken Dawn court and its denizens is so wonderfully written and while the focus is on Tala and Galrány in this one, I for one also loved the whole storyline about the slumbering faerie, and Pio and Mil, but I don’t want to spoil it for you. Enjoy the ride! It is a trilogy, actually, and I will gladly lend you the other two (however this one, as you might have guessed, is of course a gift). I hope that in the year to come we find the time to talk about these stories, and engage in other shenanigans as well. All the best for you! — Izar”

Dearest Izar!

I do promise I am not a villain, though you would not be faulted for thinking so of me after the amount of time dividing the sending of your gift and my reply. In my defense I committed the grievous mistake of unwrapping what I’d just received right after reading the (delightful!) letter attached, and- gods! The things I need to say! Wait, wait. I must at least now try to act in the correct order.

First of all, thank you, thank you a hundred times. That you’d think of me warms my heart. That you’d think of me and then choose to give me a gift magnifies that sentiment tenfold. You remain terribly kind, and I honored to be the receiver of such generosity. It means much. 

Second, what a gift! Please imagine the shriek I emitted when I removed the cloth covering it- what a beautiful shade of yellow you’ve chosen as wrapping, I need to say- and please imagine me jumping up and down several times, as it is indeed what happened. You must understand that I very much trust your literary recommendations; of course just one glance at the cover had me bursting with glee. And with that gleeful energy I did lift the first page.

Dearest Izar. That was a mistake of the wonderful kind. I could not, in fact, put it down until I finished it. I could not do much else past reading it, to be exact. You might or might not know that I am a Tarnished from the very first wave, among those who stood before divinity to receive sacred heartrending banishment. Caelid was beautiful and vast and verdant as I left the place that had cherished me so long in tears, and I wept because they wanted me to never see my mother and my father again, never again look at the comets showering the sky in summer with them, or with anyone that I loved at all. I mention this to say that I am old, and the power of enduring the very enamel of my teeth. Well, I used that power to devour this book. Wave and wheat! You were so, so correct. I loved it. The writing style! The characters! How lifelike they felt! I enjoyed Tala far more than I thought I would. I often veer away from cool, self-controlled figures, but ah, to learn that it was but a lid to keep the passion of her concealed from the world! I adored her fear and I adored her determination. That one scene in which she takes her beloved’s sword out of its sheath to be the guardian of her heart, even if she doesn’t know how to wield a blade? I was moved beyond words. Galrány kneeling and kissing her hand after the song! The gentleness and intensity of the moment! And the slumbering faerie! The final choice was cruel but right. So many parts that made me stop and pace and pace. So many pages full of beauty. A book that made me think, love is about constraints and the freedom from them and the freedom through them, truly.

I am pleading for you to send me the other two books. I simply need to know how this tale continues, though it hurts to know that one day I’ll have read all, and there will be no more. Yet! I am filled with gladness at the idea of knowing enough to talk with you about them, and hear your opinions, your thoughts. 

Thank you so much again. May you receive all you desire, every today and every tomorrow.

Your friend, 

[didyoutrydynamite]

What is Team RWBY doing during the Redeemers? And what are their races/classes?

Ruby Rose: Human Lunar Sorceress: Traveling with her sister as agents of Verdant Academy, a world renown Adventurer's School.

Yang Xiaolong: Human Sun Soul Monk: Traveling with her sister as agents of Verdant Academy.

Blake Belladonna: Tabaxi Assassin Rogue: Working as an agent for the Scarlet Tribes, a network of nomadic tribes, mainly consisting of outlanders and beast folk.

Weiss Schnee: High Elf Hex Blade Warlock: Working as an agent for the Ivory Courts, an alliance of lords, artisans, noble merchants, and various other aristocrats.

[emilyarmadillo]

Spirit World Spoilers

What we know: the former Verdant Sorceress attempted to revive a young Xanthe, and failed

What we don't know: what it means to be a "half-dead experiment"

Xanthe Zhou has super-cool powers, but what are their limitations?

I headcanon that, for one thing, Xanthe has to spend time in the Spirit World frequently or risk some consequence like being pulled back there from the living world, or even becoming a ghost.

Does anyone else have ideas about what it means for Xanthe to be half-dead?

[fancyfade]

finished spirit world #6

spoilers

I LOVE How xanthe resolved the conflict with the collective, I am always a sucker for showing the villain kindness and that being what changes things.

I am still slightly confused by Po Po/the verdant sorceress. like did she lose her memories when raising xanthe? Was she just lying? Why does the verdant sorceress seem to not want Xanthe there later? I mean granted Po Po seemed to want to keep Xanthe far away from the Jade Court, but it was hard to tell if it was in protectiveness or because of her duplicity.

[lamiaviridis]

💚     ⸺     ​ @liecrafted 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬. ┆ — reassurance starters

“ you deserve the whole world. “

Aching gaze staring back at her in the reflection of glass window, melancholic hues of verdant overlooked the Bifrost protruding from the royal palace bathed in starlight below. A deep sigh escapes roseate tiers, laden with sorrows of mourning. Loki had brought her to a point in time where Asgard hadn't fallen to ruin at the hands of Ragnarök.

They stood in her chambers, where she spent majority of her childhood locked away chained to her controlled studies in sorcery with Karnilla standing over her, telling her she only had one fate in store for her once she were free of her: she'd take on Karnilla's role as the Royal Sorceress of Asgard, her future merely consisting of being in complete servitude of whichever prince shall be crowned King of Asgard. By his side, her magic at his every beck and call, performing for civilians and offering her abilities should she ever need to.

In other words, the closest thing she had to a mother spent half of her childhood training her to be a spectacle to be gawked at and a tool to be used whilst Amora spent the remainder of that childhood pertaining little to no self-worth unless she were being lusted after by men and boys alike. She often wondered if she deserved the life she was forced into. And Loki, able to peer into her woes, told her what he felt she really deserved in that moment.

Pensive silence envelops the room as the sorceress reflects over his statement. She then turns, golden tendrils swaying, advancing towards him and wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. Her lips brushed against his own in a passionate kiss and when they separated, she nuzzled their noses together affectionately.

❛  You brought me here because you knew I was feeling homesick amongst the TVA, didn't you ? Thank you.  ❜ She kissed him again. ❛ Though, I don't want the world. I just want you. ❜

[sleepyowlwrites]

Forgive me, but you ask good questions, and then I want to hear your choices too.

What colors do you favor in your writing? Which show up the most? If you color-code your characters at all, which colors are the most prevalent?

Hope all is well in Owl-land <3

--Idea

woah, not just the Celadon swing back but literally asking me my own questions. alright.

it depends on the wip. each wip has a set of colors, independent of the colors I associate with my ocs, but I do have a lot of brick red, cerulean blue, forest green and indigo-violet, and these colors show up in most of my wips - in the sense that I feel like these are the colors of the vibes. as for what colors I actually mention? I think it's well-documented at this point that I do not, nearly often enough, mention colors or setting descriptions in my stories - or at least in the current drafts.

lemme do some research to see what comes up the most in Dirt:

it's red, but only barely. I dunno if you've gotten around to read it yet, but this doc is heavy on emotion and light on settings.

the most color mentions are probably going to be in Youth, so let's check it out:

it's yellow the most, but I think my mentions of how blue Evie's eyes are stand out more.

I feel like I mention the word "color" more than I mention specific shades, which is weird since I have such strong opinions on colors and do color-code my characters. in two ways.

I give them a palette of color to wear and I give them colors based on their vibes. so if we go back to Dirt and talk about the characters by what they get to wear vs. the colors I think they embody:

Jet - black, brown, grey and red vs. grey, dark green, burnt umber Copper - creams, purples, blues vs. goldenrod, aquamarine, lavender Rune - red, blue, green vs. silver, mauve, forget-me-not Yarrow - all colors vs. all colors Moss - muted solids vs. sage, sandy brown, charcoal Hawk - green, blue, brown vs. verdant, violet, seafoam Shadow - black and whatever Yarrow gives him vs. steel, cloud, slate, and ultramarine

and as for what colors are the most prevalent across the board (in terms of character vibes)? let's go off the top of my head:

Reds:

R

Ernest

Rhea

Erin

Jorand,

Jaino

Jemmi

Marelli

Rune

Poppy

Katherine

Ree

Jack

Oranges:

Kena

Evie

Theo

Nathaniel

Naki

Finnal

Yarrow

Sam

Adam

Yellows:

Nyks

Pellor

Shar

Caro

Pascal

Copper

Cal

Sardha

Greens:

Sebastian

Martin

Ondo

Moss

Hawk

Jae

Eshku

Vern

Tav

Iridian

Ivan

Edward

Blues:

Bell

Aiden

Marlin

Yadsmyn

Katlan

Shadow

Jessalyn

Wryn

Quental

Arkenji

Reed

Ben

Wes

Darsh

Breydan

Puples/pinks:

Savannah

Irina

Daniel

Marz

Mareye

Marisse

Natalie

Mirai

Lunetta

the immortal sorceress

Alinora

Sybil

Neutrals:

Jet

Mark

Yashel

Martain

Ty

Marden

Kyt

John

Xiyun

Margaret

William

and the winner is blues! interesting. thanks for asking me (back), Idea

[autumnalwalker]

Favorite Line(s) Tag

Thank you for the tag, @blind-the-winds.

Passing the tag to @dogmomwrites, @cljordan-imperium, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @oh-no-another-idea, @affectionatemeconopsis, and an open tag for anyone else who wants to join.

I've already mentioned previously how Day 140 of The Archivist's Journal is generally one of my favorite things that I've written, and that a certain exchange written at 2am for Chapter 12 of Empty Names is one of my favorite bits of dialogue I've put together. But if we were to go by "favorite dialogues between two characters" (or what passes for dialogue in The Archivist's Journal) then there are suddenly a great many contenders in The Archivist's Journal and there's another scene in Empty Names that, while less fun, I like better for showing an side of Sullivan and Road that doesn't normally get shown.

These are going to get a bit long, so dropping it under the "Keep reading" line.

The Archivist's Journal, Day 185:

The beach itself was pleasant enough, once we finally got there.  If Maiko was frustrated with my pace, she did a good job of not showing it.  As suspected, the prospect of swimming exhausted me simply thinking about it, but I was still able to wade a short distance into the waves, letting them wash around my knees and allowing my feet to sink into the sand.

Close my eyes and turn my face to greet the sun.

Stretch my arms wide as if to embrace the sea.

Breathe deep of the salty air.

Listen to the surf before me and birds behind me.

Allow myself to smile.

As my arms grew tired I let them drop and slowly opened my eyes as I turned to look back at Maiko.  She was still at the treeline, half hidden behind a trunk as I’d first glimpsed her those months ago.  I waved to her.

The twofold pause of one who’s realized they’ve hesitated.

She gave a small wave back.

My smile faded.  I walked over to her.  Asked if something was wrong.

Silence save for the birds and the waves.  Four beats of the sea’s heart.

She said she usually tries to avoid spending time in exposed areas like this.  Too easy to be seen without realizing it.

I considered what to say to that.

Waves in.  Waves out.

Waves in.  Waves out.

She added that she’d begun to get lax about that, but seeing people at the spring the other week had her on edge once more.

Another beat.

I imagined taking her by the hand and running toward the water.

Waves in.

Her momentarily too surprised to resist, letting herself be dragged along despite being more than capable of stopping.

Waves out.

Protests about the possibility of being seen.

Waves in.

Reassurances that no one ever comes to this particular stretch of beach but me.

Waves out.

Easing into the sea.

Waves in.

Playful splashing about in the water.

Waves out.

The both of us allowing ourselves to relax and let our guard down.

Waves in.

Telling her that I’m sure no one in the Village would have a problem with her.

Waves out.

And if anyone did say anything, she had friends to stick up for her.

Waves in.

A good day with her coming out of her shell and me feeling that I had helped.

Waves out.

I nodded, said I understood, and thanked her for indulging my whim to come out here.  We walked back to the house in silence.  As we did, I wondered if I should have acted on that fantasy.  It was a nice idea, but who’s to say it was a good one?  Who am I to force a fairytale idea of “helping” someone on another?  Would it really have been helping, or was it just a self-aggrandizing fantasy about saving or fixing someone? And if it was a good thing to do, I’m not the sort of person who could pull it off.  Maybe Lin could, or even Cass.

And besides, I was tired.

Empty Names, Chapter 4 - Prince In Gold

Every so often he turns through a door and into a room and cuts through it to another hallway that geometry would have demanded intersect with the first had not the sorceress Bridgewood once said otherwise.  The portrait room.  The lesser library.  The skull room.  He’s halfway across the verdant drawing room (as opposed to the xanthous drawing room or the aquatic drawing room) when he notices his friend asleep on the moss-green couch.

Sullivan freezes, not wanting to wake them, but their eyes flutter open a moment later all the same.  Had he made more noise than he realized, or was it the glow of the fireplace coming to life with his entrance?

“Hey Su,” they mumble with a voice still groggy from sleep.

“Hey,” he whispers back.  “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Is fine.  Not that asleep anyway.”  An obvious lie.

“We have plenty of real beds around you’re welcome to use, you know.”

“Mhmmm.”  They slowly shake their head.  “Never could get used to ‘em.”

The corner of Sullivan’s mouth curls up into a faint smile at old memories.  “Right.  I’ll let you get back to sleep,” he says and then turns to leave.

“Su,” whispers the voice behind him.  He stops and turns back around.  “Since you’re here, can you tell me a story?  Please.”

“Sure thing.”  He takes a seat on the floor leaning against the couch, one leg outstretched while the other makes an arch to rest arm on knee.  He looks up at his friend and asks “One of the classics?”

They shake their head.  “Something I missed while I was away.”  Their voice still sounds half-asleep.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell there.  It’s been pretty quiet here lately.”

The light from the fireplace reflects off pleading eyes.

“Well, I suppose there was one thing,” Sullivan concedes.

“Oh?”

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.  He breathes out and stares into the fireplace.

[xasha777]

In the verdant meadows of Antaris V, a world where flora towered and fauna whispered the ancient secrets of the cosmos, there stood a warrior unlike any other: General Whiskerton, the feline knight of the Galactic Claw Order.

Born under the twin moons of this lush planet, Whiskerton was no ordinary cat. His ancestors were the Felidae Astralis, an ancient race of star-wandering cats that had settled on Antaris V eons ago. With their advanced technology, they merged their consciousness with the planet's spirit, becoming the guardians of its secrets and defenders against the dark void.

Whiskerton's fur was as white as the comet trails that graced their night sky, and his eyes shimmered with the same green hue as the endless fields he protected. The armor he donned was forged from the rarest metals of the galaxy, etched with the history of his people and imbued with the essence of the stars.

The Galactic Claw Order, an assembly of the bravest feline warriors, was founded to combat the creeping darkness that threatened the interstellar pathways. Shadow Beasts, formless entities from the outer rim of the universe, sought to consume the light of the stars, leaving nothing but void in their wake.

It was during the Battle of Nebula's Edge that General Whiskerton earned his title. He led a battalion of Claw Knights into the heart of a Shadow Beast swarm. With his energy sword, a blade that burned with the core fire of a thousand suns, he cleaved through the darkness. Each strike was a thunderous roar across the cosmic battlefield, a declaration that the light would always endure.

After the victory, Whiskerton did not seek fame or treasure. He returned to Antaris V, to the meadows where he had once chased the golden butterflies of dawn. There, he stood sentinel, a watchful guardian against the dark whispers of the universe.

But peace was a fleeting dream. A new threat loomed, one that whispered of an ancient prophecy. The Cyborg Sorceress of the Outer Sector had set her sights on the heart of Antaris V, seeking the planet's life essence to fuel her quest for immortality.

As the Cyborg Sorceress's fleet descended upon the planet, Whiskerton rallied the Order. They would not yield their home to the cold grasp of technology. The battle was fierce; laser claws clashed with energy shields, and the sky rained with the fire of starships.

In the final hour, as the Sorceress breached the atmosphere, General Whiskerton faced her in single combat. They fought upon the tallest tower of the Order, their battle cries echoing across the land. With a swift, graceful leap, Whiskerton disarmed the Sorceress, sending her plummeting into the depths of the world she sought to conquer.

Antaris V was saved, but General Whiskerton knew that as long as the stars shone, there would be darkness to challenge their light. So he watches and waits, a noble knight with the heart of a warrior and the soul of a cat, ever ready to defend the cosmic balance.

[rebfile]

Mira from Luminaera

In the heart of Luminaera, where the city's pulse beats in sync with the neon glow of ever-changing billboards and the gentle hum of airborne cars, there lived a girl named Mira. On the surface, Mira might have seemed like your average city-dweller, but her story is woven with strands of enigma and a touch of the extraordinary.

It was a balmy evening when our tale unfolds, the sun dipping low behind the steel spires of Luminaera, setting the horizon ablaze with a palette only seen when day meets night in a lover's embrace. Amidst this twilight dance, Mira walked through the teeming streets, a slight figure cloaked in an oversized hoodie that bore the whimsical image of a cat with soulful, verdant eyes — a stark contrast to the sterile sophistication of her surroundings.

Her hood was up, casting gentle shadows across her features, with locks of chestnut hair curling out like tendrils of a story yet untold. But it wasn't her casual attire that made Mira stand out — it was the way she looked at the world: eyes wide with wonder, reflecting a quiet resolve and a hidden fire that burned with dreams and quiet determination.

Mira wasn't just any inhabitant of Luminaera. She was a coder by day, a digital sorceress weaving spells in the form of algorithms and programs that helped the city stay on the cutting edge of tomorrow. Yet, by night, she transformed into a street artist, her creations a vivid disruption to the metallic sheen of the urban landscape.

As the streetlights flickered on, casting pools of light onto the pavement below, Mira reached into her pocket and pulled out a holographic spray can — a gadget of her own design. With a flick of her wrist, a canvas of light materialized before her, hovering in the air. She painted not with pigment but with photons, crafting a mural that sang of the city's untamed heart.

A cat appeared on the holographic surface, agile and free, leaping from one virtual rooftop to another amidst a shower of code and stardust, an emblem of the untamed spirit that lurked within the steel bones of Luminaera. Passersby stopped, entranced by the dance of color and light, a fleeting enchantment that whispered of mysteries held close by the night.

By morning, nothing would remain of Mira's nocturnal masterpiece but the faintest imprint on the memories of those who'd witnessed it. And Mira? She'd return to her desk, her screen aglow with lines of logic and loops, the only hint of her other life the tiny pink heart on her sleeve and the glint of adventure in her eyes.

And so, beneath the gaze of a million stars and the endless possibilities of Luminaera night, Mira's story continues — one of art, heart, and the silent symphony of a city that never sleeps.