#wayfarer masters

[idrellegames]

Hi! i was curious about what the MC's relationship is with the other two wayfarer masters? Like, will we get to know what their relationship was before things went south? Would they still get mentioned even if they were not MC's mentor?

Professional and respectful, but not close. Other than that, it's free reign for headcanon.

The MC will know more things about their mentor than they will about the other two, so their perspective on them will shift a bit in the text when they come up. And they are still mentioned, even if your MC wasn't apprenticed to them!

[bluebellowl]

So apparently shark on human bites occur like 40 times per year world wide, while human on human bites occur 1500 in New York alone.

And of course my head went straight to Emmet. He’d do love nibbles for sure! Consensually of course. Aiden has gotten used to it but Ingo, freshly back from Hisui, seeing this has his big bro instinct kick in

[thefamilyeldritchabomination]

Second Half for 'The Wayfarer' Masterpost

‘The Wayfarer’: 11: | | | | | | | #12: | | | | | | | #13: | | | | | | #14: | | | | | | | #15: | | | | | | | #16: | | | | | | | | #17: | | | | | | | #18: | | | | | | |

Third Half: <3 First Half: <3

[beyondmistland]

What do you think of the theory that Lord Vance might have been Master of Laws and finished due to going blind? It would account for there being a lack of Riverlanders on the Small Council, likely Renly came in just afterwards.

Its not a bad theory but there's also no evidence for or against it.

Thanks for the question, @cynicalclassicist

[literaryvein-reblogs]

concepts related to different professions

Businessperson

abettor, adjutant, adviser/advisor, aid/aide, announcer, apprentice, archaeologist, assistant, auditor, authority, baker, barber, broker, businessperson, buyer, caretaker, cartoonist, chair, chef, client, colleague, conservator, consumer, correspondent, court, creator, curator, customer, dabbler, desk jockey, developer, drudge, employee, envoy, espionage, explorer, fellow, flier, flyer, fortuneteller, freshman, go-between, gourmet, guard, guru, hacker, hand, hawker, helper, hooker, inferior, informant or informer, inspector, interviewer, investigator, janitor, labor, liaison, messenger, moderator, monitor, navigator, newsman/woman, page, patron, picket, pioneer, poet, practitioner, prodigal, protégé, referee, representative, reviewer, rival, sailor, scout, seaman/woman, seller, shopper, speaker, spokesperson, spy, subordinate, tailor, traveler, virtuoso, wayfarer, writer

Educator

academic, adviser/advisor, alumnus/alumna, coach, conductor, disciplinarian, faculty, freshman, graduate, intellectual, learner, martinet, mastermind, monitor, practitioner, professor, rookie, savant, school, swami, trainer

Entertainer

acrobat, actress, aficionado, ballet dancer, character, comic, creator, director, fan, groupie, hero/heroine, humorist, inventor, luminary, magician, name, participant, personage/personality, player, protagonist, star, troubadour, virtuoso, zany

Financier

accountant, bean counter, broker, investor, spendthrift

Government officer

administrator, ambassador, authoritarian, autocracy, bureaucrat, consul, delegate, despot, diplomat, emir, empress, establishment, exile, fascist, figurehead, front runner, informant/informer, intermediary, leader, liaison, magistrate, master, mogul, mouthpiece, officer, oppressor, pacifist, patrol, personage/personality, police/police officer, prime minister, representative, snitch, spokesperson, tyrant, weasel

Legal practitioner

attorney, beneficiary, counsel, heir, judge, lawyer, officer, proponent, witness

Media person

commentator, journalist, newsman/woman, reporter, writer

Medical practitioner

analyst, druggist, nurse, patient, physician, researcher, therapist

Military person

combatant, conqueror, fighter, gladiator, lookout, militant, patrol, recruit, scout, seaman/woman, truant, warmonger, warrior

Politician

advocate, anarchist, apostle, arbitrator, conservative, dissident, extremist, firebrand, idealist, militant, mouthpiece, nonconformist, patron, picket, proponent, reactionary, sectarian

Religious person

acolyte, angel, atheist, chaplain, conformist, creator, deacon, doubter, dreamer, evangelism, father, genie, inventor, loner, minister, monk, pagan, pastor, priest, saint, skeptic, visionary, witch, wizard

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary.

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary

[cambion-companion]

could I request for you to write an scenario in which Raphael does not die to Tav nor their party, but in an other similarly humiliating circumstances, and Tav when learning about this desperately goes to save Raphael from his father by bargaining with Mephistopheles? (hilariously in a very sad way, I assume this, is the only moment that Mephistopheles would ever "value" Raphael's life, but then again that is devils for you) and Raphael's confusion at the whole thing, someone taking a terrible bargain to save him, just… because they… like him…??? (bonus points, if Tav still has a crown to willingly give Raphael XD)

It's beat up Raphael hours huh? (also Korilla will be fine)

Hi there love. This turned from a drabble into a oneshot haha

Have fun running to Cania to pick up your wayfaring devil!

Raphael x reader (gn)

Korilla had come to you.

Broker and bruised, battered and bloody. Her long curly hair matted with mud and dried viscous.

“Help him.”  Her first words, rasped from a throat raw from screams.

“Korilla!”  You caught her weight as her knees buckled, lowering her gently to the ground.  The Dwarven woman wasn’t your friend by any means, but she had been your ally.  “Who needs my help?”  You couldn’t fathom who she might be referring to.

Surely it wasn’t Raphael. It couldn’t possibly be the enigmatic, self-assured cambion.

Korilla’s answering rasp dispelled any doubt. “My master.”

A fog of shock settled over your mind, your hands loosening around Korilla’s shaking form.  She whispered the truth into your ear, her bruised lips trailing her blood onto your clammy skin. With fading voice Korilla told of the attack, Raphael’s demise and his imminent doom.

“Portal. Diabolist.  Cania.”  Korilla’s breaths grew short as she fought valiantly once more against the oncoming black.

“Hold on, Korilla.  You’re going to be okay.”

“Save him.” She said again, her eyes slowly glossing over as the life left her broken body.

You cursed.  The warlock’s last actions had been to find you in a desperate hope you’d help Raphael before he was consumed by his father.  His father who just so happened to be an archdevil. Mephistopheles.

“Little shit could’ve mentioned that.”  You grimaced, lowering Korilla’s body to rest upon the cold earth.

You stood, pinching the bridge of your nose as your thoughts whirled and clashed. Not only had the attackers killed Raphael, but they had also looted his house, stealing the Orphic hammer and the only hope you’d had of defeating the Elder Brain.

“Damn it.”  You returned to your companions with the news. “Looks like we’re taking a rescue party to hell.”

“Who’s the damsel in distress?”  Astarion asked, tilting his head as his red eyes flickered over your blood-flecked form.

“Raphael.”

The plan was to use as much stealth as possible. The vaults of Mephisto had been broken into not long ago, according to Raphael, so it was possible.  A direct confrontation with the archdevil himself was out of the question.  

The diabolist in Baldur’s Gate took some convincing, but in the end you were able to push enough gold across the counter to seal the deal.  

“Very well.  Though I warn you, you’ll not return alive or with your souls intact.”

“Yes, yes.”  You waved the woman off, her visage reminding you of Korilla. “Believe me, I’ve heard it all before.”  Your eyes scanned the musky shop. Do you have anything that will locate a specific fiend?”

With a Locate Creature spell scroll ready in your bag you watched as the diabolist created for you a portal. Ice crystals immediately crusted on the edge of the black abyss, the wind coming from the portal nearly freezing your shoes to the floor.

“Quickly, and remember the disguises!”  She ushered you and your party through, the frigid darkness enveloping you with a grim finality.

Through cold halls you’d snuck, invisible fingers cold as death scraping along your back and through your hair as you passed beneath torches of blue flame.

Time lost all meaning here.  Your eyes began to play tricks on you. The only thing keeping your mind focused was the spell lighting the edge of your vision with a warm glow, growing brighter as you hurried to where Raphael was being held.

An age, or an hour had passed.

The wrought iron door, so cold to the touch it burned, swung noiselessly inward, admitting you to an octagonal shaped room. On the far wall you saw him, his form dark, chained by one wrist to the wall.

“Raphael.”  You hissed, unexplainable relief flooding your frozen veins when his head moved in response.  

Your companions waited by the open doorway, keeping watch from the shadows.  You snuck as quickly as you could to where Raphael was restrained. His glowing eyes looking down upon you with consternation before recognition slowly dawned across his sharp features.

You held up a hand, silencing him as he opened his mouth. Movement could be heard from outside the prison room. You were running out of time.

“Can you get us out of here if I free you?”  You hissed, still keenly aware of the nature of the devil.

Raphael nodded, his tail moving to and fro in agitation.  Something about his vitality seemed to be missing, you had never imagined seeing him in such a state.  It was unsettling.

The matter of removing the singular shackle proved to be more challenging than you’d thought.  Astarion’s lockpicking skills proved futile.

“It’s a magical seal.”  Raphael breathed, his voice low yet sharp with anger born of desperation. “Now’s not the time to play the fool.”

You gave him a severe look which he matched right back at you, his eyes sparking flame.

You raised a hand to the ice-covered metal, about to dispel the magic surrounding the lock. “You owe me a favor.  A big one.  I don’t know yet what I will ask of you, but you will deliver. Understood?”

Raphael’s gaze scorched you for a moment, it was clear he was furious with his current predicament. But he had no choice, and both of you knew it.

He nodded curtly.

You cast your spell.

Raphael’s wrist broke free with the sharp sound of metal splintering. His hand closed tight around your arm, the dungeons of Mephisto melted away as you and your companions were yanked unceremoniously back to the material plane.

At least, your companions were.  Deposited non-gently upon the hard ground of your camp.

Raphael kept hold of you.  Taking you back to the foyer of his house. The house which still lay in semi ruin from its previous sacking.

He was angry.  Each step he took crackled fire and promise of swift vengeance.

“Raphael…”  You said hesitantly, following him down into the dining hall.  “Raphael, Korilla-”

“Is dead.”  Under the glow of firelight, you could properly see the state he was in. You winced when he turned to face you. “I know. Though not as dead as those who dared pillage my home, the fools.”

“Do you know who?”  You remained wary as you watched him conjure an armchair and sink down into it.

Raphael ignored your question, he issued orders in the abrasive Infernal tongue, seemingly into thin air.  His fingers clicked and a spark of flame licked around them.  Unseen servants began bustling around, clearing the debris and wreckage.  Setting the House of Hope back in order.

Raphael leveled his gaze upon you.  His expression was not unkind, it was calculating.  He had underestimated you and overestimated himself.  Not a mistake he’d make again.

“Why?”  No flowery words, no ado.

“I still need the hammer.”  You had the response prepared, having known the question was coming.

“You could have hunted down the thieves without my help.”  Raphael narrowed his hellfire eyes. “Why come to my aid?”

“Korilla asked me to.  It was her dying wish.”  You fidgeted under his piercing presence. “Besides, you’re a useful ally.  I still need your help to save the world.”

Raphael arched a brow, unconvinced. “Half-truths are still considered lies, dear.  But there are matters I must attend to.”  He stood, restless.  

“Will your father come for you again once he realizes you’re gone.”  The question came before you could stop yourself.

“Concerned for me?”  Raphael appraised you, a knowing tilt to his head. “No.  He will not.”

You didn’t argue, Raphael was clearly on edge, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

You rubbed circles against your aching temple. “Well, seems we have some thieves to track down.  A hammer to retrieve.”

Raphael looked as though he was biting back a sharp retort.  He chewed on his words, looking you over. “Yes.”  He growled, infernal fire flickering off his form. “You may watch as I peel their souls from the writhing mortal flesh.”

In an unexpected move, Raphael strode to you and took your hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles. His breath hot on your still chilled skin. “You may even assist me, if you so desire.”  He straightened.

That was as close to a “thank you” as you were going to get.

You set your jaw grimly. “When do we start?”

[onewingedsparrow]

@walkthruthewords Thanks for the tag, friend! :D Tagging @prismicnexus @zeldaelmo @glassheadcanon @cooking-with-hailstones @newtsnaturethings if you want to

Personality quiz

Thanks @bloodmoonloveletter here! and @illarian-rambling here!

Rules: take this cute personality test!

[image ID in alt text]

Okay most of this is accurate.

I do not hate almost everyone and myself. I'd like to think I've worked well on feelings toward myself. The other part is hyperbolically correct in like the grand scheme of the world.

I also have some immediate text responses. Depends on what I'm doing. Above 0% even though I'll admit it is relatively low at times.

And I'm definitely not allergic to tears and emotions those are definitely there lol.

Everything else? Yes, that's 100% accurate.

I'll tag @gracehosborn @mk-writes-stuff @cadotoast @elsie-writes @theelfauthor

@randomlettrrsqqssfxwcvhxnqbwriro @call-me-obsessed1755 @squarebracket-trickster @melpomene-grey

[at-thezenith]

writeblr intro

hi! i’m hel, i have a ba in creative writing & film, and just finished a publishing masters. i am currently creating a drive of my notes from this degree, you can find that post here.

i love sff, literary fiction, and anything kind of weird. my favourite series is the wayfarers by becky chambers, a sf series that has fantastic worldbuilding, alien societies, complex inter-species relations, and just a whole lot of beautiful writing.

my main wip is called the faery children, a broody, morally grey fantasy story about elemental witches, which you can read about here. 

i have just started outlining/drafting a short story called baby, let the band keep playing, we’ll keep swinging ‘til last call. you can read about it here and here.

i’m an editor (now professional)! i love reading other people’s work and am always looking to help people with their own writing. if you're interested you can contact me on here. i have experience with essays, fiction and non-fiction articles, and i spent two years as an editor on a creative arts magazine.

i also beta read! that does not need to be sought after on a separate site, feel free to drop me a message or an ask and i will quite literally drop everything to read something. fully not joking.

i would love to make more writer friends of any form or genre :) ask and tag game friendly!!

[animatedjen]

Question for ya (if you happen to know) - so Cere gave Cal her lightsaber hilt in jfo and he used it to make a split saber but in Jedi survivor she suddenly has one again when fighting Darth Vader. Where'd she get it from? Was it Cordova's? And if not when did she get a new lightsaber?

Good question - we don't actually know. Sometime between the two games Cere built/found a new lightsaber, but (as far as I'm aware) none of the databank entries or side conversations explain its origin.

But this question made me curious about Cere and Cordova's lightsabers, so here's a longer answer with my own ideas:

[Dark Temple Series: cover art by Marco Checchetto, Paolo Villanelli, and Will Sliney]

In the cover art for the miniseries Dark Temple, Cere uses her original saber with its green kyber, but Cordova's saber design doesn't match what we see in Fallen Order. So at some point after these comics, Cordova creates/updates his saber and engraves the Zeffo iconography on its switch.

[Eno Cordova's Fallen Order lightsaber: design by Amy Fry]

This design can be seen briefly in Survivor when you find the saber in Wayfarer's Tomb. And while we don't see it during the game's final cutscene, Cal possibly buries the saber with Cordova after the pyre. But the balance between game mechanics (new customization options from a chest!) and narrative details (didn't Cal already find Cordova's saber in FO?) makes a "canon" answer more challenging.

Cere's first lightsaber had specific design requirements because of its story purpose. Jordan Lamarre-Wan explains the hilt is proportionally shorter so it fits the broken section of Jaro Tapal's staff after Cal combines them. We also know the kyber is gone - Cere sold it to pay off Greez' gambling debts and continue their mission.

Cal might've returned the hilt to Cere after fully restoring his master's saber, or maybe pieces of Cere's saber are still inside. Maybe Cere chose not to use it again or simply wanted Cal to keep it.

In her concept art for Survivor, Theo Stylianides does show Cere holding this first saber and its green kyber, but these illustrations were likely made before the sequel's saber designs were finalized.

(Do I wish she had a green saber in Survivor though? Yeah, I do. Is it possible she was given blue for the aesthetic of blue vs red while fighting Vader? Maybe.)

[Cere's second saber: model by Aaron Fowler]

Cere's new saber, according to Aaron Fowler, is heavily inspired by the "Boone Kestis" concept created by Gus Mendonca in the early development of Fallen Order. The rugged, more utilitarian style matches well with her new role among the Anchorites. Survivor doesn't tell us where the lightsaber came from, but on a planet like Jedha, it's possible she found it or was gifted it while helping create the Archive.

I also think, practically, Cere's first saber would have been difficult to adapt to the new customization options in Survivor. Its small hilt and proportions would've required more alterations to fit the expanded saber components at the workbench. I miss the marble-like textures and woven grip, but I'm glad Cere was allowed to grow and change between games, and her new lightsaber reflects her new identity as both a Jedi and a protector of knowledge.

[gaywarcriminals]

hello! how are you going? do you have any svsss fic recs you enjoyed?

Aside from the usual Horrors, I'm quite well!! I hope you are too ^^

Oh wow, It's a bit hard to pick just a few because I've read a lot of SVSSS fics in the past few years, but here's the ones that came to mind/ I've been thinking about recently! (I'm excluding ones that I already recommended this week for the ask game, you can check out my "ask fish" tag to see those. Edit: I made a "fish recommends" tag too.)

Qijiu:

"i bury my voice for you" (series) by lithali. Space opera AU, Shen twins, everyone is aliens, intense qijiu longing, SJ’s unending font of angsty internal dialogue, and kinky qijiu sex feat transmasc SJ. I need more people to read this one!!!!!!!

"Palimpsest" by Azzandra. YQY loses his memories and tries to piece together how SJ fits in his life from what others tell him. I adore this fic, it's a really interesting examination of both their characters and why they love each other intrinsically. 

"You Were You, And I Was I" by MissMegh. Deaged qijiu being feral, clinging, and horny teenagers. Super cute and funny!

"what thing it is (that people most desire)" by Jinxed_Ink. A vaguely medieval AU based on an Arthurian legend where SJ disguises himself and blackmails YQY into marrying him for Revenge. SJ has Absolutely No Other Motive There. I didn't know how much I needed this particular brand of qijiu marriage shenanigans until I read it.

"I'm just as exposed (when i take off my clothes)" by owoxian. Qijjiu being weird and horny (as they deserve), being misinterpreted as abuse by accidental voyer MQF. 

"The Sect Leader’s Husband" by AMereDream. Canon divergence where YQY came back for SJ on time, and instead of becoming the QJP head disciple, SJ married YQY and became the power behind the throne. Cute power couple qijiu!!!

"The Heart Is A Sword" by Moonsheen. A-Su, a boy who is a sword, the emperor's weapon, is appointed personal attendant to the emperor's new consort Shen. PIDW post-canon.

Bingqiu:

"Rehearsal" by Prim_the_Amazing. Binghe, fresh from the abyss, uses a dream realm to run through all the ways his reunion with SQQ might go. This one is basically pure angst but it's SO good.

"How to Meal Prep - Household Tips, Recipes, and Ideas for a Better-Organised Life!" By x_los. Character study of 17-year-old preeminent housewife Binghe. It's cute, it's weird, and it's terribly tragic on account of the Dramatic Irony.

"Futility in Practice" by TGP. Time loop fic with a REALLY cool style of story telling. Repetitive but iterative text from Binghe, the non-looping character's POV as SQQ desperately tries to find the right answer to end the loop. Very angsty!

"it's not gay if you don't touch my ass ... unless?" by azunshi. Modern AU, SY wants to have sex with Binghe but ofc that would be gay, so instead he puts a cocksleeve up his ass for binghe to fuck instead. This fic is so deeply stupid (positive/complimentary), I love it, it's the exact brand of unhinged this whole fandom is slowlyy becoming.

"Songs of a Wayfarer" by foxflowering. Ballet AU with young prodigy LBH and his teacher SY! 

Binggeyuan:

"to find an intended (a bit unintentionally)" by nyoomerr. This is the classic. Wandering cultivator SY accidentally doms Bingge into being a good boy. 

"broken glass, swept away" by aaeph. Modern AU, SY buys a home only to find it haunted by the centuries old ghost of a demonic emperor. Bingge tries so hard to push SY away over and over, but SY is a stubborn man.

Jiuyuan:

"Jump To The Left" by ValiantBarnes (Cimila). I'm not sure quite how to describe this one without spoilers, but essentially, older Shen Yuan finds and saves SJ in the era he was following WYZ. SY takes SJ as a traveling companion/sort of disciple. CW for mentions of incest/psuedo-incest (no actual incest though).

"Immortal Shen Does Not Do Online Deliveries" by Anonymous. SY, a young cultivator and scholar, goes to ask the reclusive immoral master SQQ for an elixir. SQQ toys with him a little <3. Mean SQQ and flustered SY.

Gen/ No Ship:

"Rat Trap" by Azaisya. LQG & SJ. LQG and SJ are kidnapped, they get truth serum-ed, and they're forced to confront their different background and conflicting morals and methods that stem from that. I think this is my favorite execution of "LQG learns SJ's backstory and Has Regrets", because their conflict is explicitly framed as a class divide rather than just misunderstandings, and it addresses the flaws in both their resulting worldviews to some extent. 

"Sit With Your Soul" by Tossawary. SJ & SY. This is a fusion with His Dark Materials, but no knowledge is required. Basically everyone has an animal companion that's connected to and represents their soul, and SY transmigrates into SQQ's. 

[cilant-lis]

The Kind Wayfarers

a mix of canon information, along with some headcanons building off of that

'The Kind Wayfarers are guides and protectors for travelers, often people of limited means traveling in dangerous areas.' poe wiki

Much less centralised, but more widespread, than other paladin orders, with at least one branch operating in each of Eora's regions, even in the White that Wends.

Recruits are usually trained by a single master. There are rarely more than two or three trainees under one master, and every full-fledged paladin can take on apprentices.

Upon completing the training, the Kind Wayfarer drops their surname (if they had any) and takes on the title of 'the Wayfarer' - for example my watcher's full name is Variel the Wayfarer

Kind Wayfarers are often looked down on by other paladin orders, seen as penniless bleeding hearts, despite having the same skillset and abilities as all other paladins. Despite this disdain from other orders, they are widely respected and liked by commoners, their kindness (pun not intended) and generosity inspiring many others to join the order as well.

They are not concerned about their recruit's pedigree, often taking in and training the destitute, orphans and such. Even those who do not finish the training and trials, and those who are retired, can still count on the support of the order.

The Kind Wayfarers also have a reputation for being fearless, to the point of being reckless with their lives. The most legendary members of the order risked life and limb to protect their charges, often becoming martyrs in the process.

'Though the order is known for not being wealthy, in recent years they've improved their finances via cartography and working with groups like the Hand Occult to develop travel guides for little known parts of Eora.' (wiki) Additionally, many Kind Wayfarers end up accompanying expeditions to dangerous places, and their protection allowed places like the Living Lands to be charted and explored.

Their motto is 'Guidance, protection, charity'

[idrellegames]

Hello all!

I hope you are having a fantastic July. It has been a bit quiet on the Wayfarer front recently, but there are many things happening behind-the-scenes.

Episode 3 is reaching its conclusion. While the episode is far from finished, it is finally approaching an end. I can’t say when the alpha will be complete or when it will be available to play publicly, but I am very glad that it is progressing. This is likely going to be the most complex episode to date and there are many variations within it to explore and replay.  

Episode 3 was last updated on July 5, 2024. Currently, it includes:

Two starting routes (this is dependent on your Episode 2 ending—you need to have gotten either Aeran's romance or friendship reconciliation ending, Aeran's low romance ending, or Veyer's ending in order to continue)

A large exploration sequence with multiple options of how to proceed

New lore and new mysteries

A new flashback sequence with your mentor

"Quality" time with Aeran (whether this is a good thing or not depends on your approval levels, but I can promise that low approval routes are a treat)

The episode is sitting at approximately 480,000 words for all total content (individual playthroughs will vary drastically depending on your choices).

If you’re interested in checking out the alpha build, now is a great time to join my Patreon. Annual subscriptions come with a 15% discount.

Please note that the alpha build is only available to the Recruit, Apprentice, Wayfarer, Master, and Grandmaster tiers.

Additionally, subscription billing is now available for monthly memberships. This means that the old Patreon format of charging on the first of the month is no more—subscription memberships now renew on the same date you signed up for that membership (i.e. if you signed up on July 10 then your next charge date would be on August 10).

More information is available here.

Creating Wayfarer is a full-time commitment and its development is solely funded through Patreon. It covers my bills, living expenses, and other costs to improve the game’s quality. I am extremely grateful to everyone who has supported my work over the years.

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to reach out! 💖

[bluebellowl]

Since there‘s no pokemon in this AU we went with the twins being famous baseball players. It involves throwing balls really hard and with great accuracy (i think?) and even when you have the built of a gazelle you can be really good at it!

They‘re depicted as being unfathomably powerful, I couldn‘t just ignore that in this AU. So through their professional playing they have explosive speed when running, insane agility while going so and are great at hitting small targets with a stick real hard. Don‘t mess with the subway twins!

I think i might have been inspired by @pigdemonart‘s art of them playing baseball.

We thought it‘d be cool if Aiden has been a fan of the twins for some time through listening to the radio during work. He wouldn’t know what they look like and later Emmet wouldn‘t want to boast about it.

[destiis-wayfarers]

Fratricide? Must be a Tuesday

A little piece of Kailis' backstory, written for Wayfarer's (@idrellegames) 3rd birthday

Fandom: Wayfarer - Idrelle Games

Tags/TWs: Angst, Child Abuse, Sibling Rivalry, Childhood Trauma, Heights

Read on AO3

Fratricide? Must be a Tuesday

The wind was strong up here, rushing past Kailis' back and tugging at his clothes. His long hair flew around him wildly, whipping at his face, the tips catching in his mouth. Kailis clung to the stones, fingertips seeking the gaps between rock and mortar as he hauled himself up toward the summit. His limbs shook and every time he tried to breathe in, the cold air pierced his lungs.

This was the highest he'd ever climbed, ever dared to climb. The tower stretched on above him, the courtyard below, the rooftop of the main house between. His siblings stood in the courtyard, their comments and jeers that had initially spurred him on now snatched away by the wind. His heart beat like a bird's, blood rushing through his veins and reminding him that he was really, truly alive. 

He could see the city stretching out before him, the red-tiled roofs and whitewashed buildings clustered together like adults whispering in corners, the twisting spaces between them like leylines to be explored. To his right, the city gave way to mountains in the distance, snow-capped and colossal. To his left, there was nothing but ocean, stretching out forever. Only the bravest ships were dancing on the rough winter waves. His father's fleet would be out there, somewhere, but Kailis couldn't spot any of their blue sails. 

Kailis reached up for the next stone that jutted out just a little farther than the rest. His fingers felt frozen and numb, barely able to catch the edge of the rough stone and dig in to haul himself up another inch. 

"Master Marcello, please come down!" a panicked servant called from below him. Kailis glanced down and saw her clutching the edge of the window that he'd just broken. He'd felt the wards bend and snap as he climbed through, shattering into a thousand fractals that scattered in the wind. 

He also saw how far he'd climbed, the rooftop many feet below. He pressed his forehead to the stones, closing his eyes against the distance and his head against the possible consequences of his choices. With shaking muscles and shuddering breath, he looked up again and let go of one stone to seek another. The wind screamed in his ears, whistling through the small gap between his body and the tower's wall, buffeting him against it as though it sought to rip him off and strike him down. 

Accompanied by a little popping sound and whisps of golden magic, his elder brother suddenly appeared above him, sitting casually on the roof of the tower and kicking his feet out into the breeze. His blood-red hair surrounded him like an ominous halo as he sneered down at Kailis.

"Doesn't look like you're going to make it, runt!" Kriton yelled, the golden glow in his eyes slowly fading as he released his spatial magic. 

"Master Marcello!" the servant cried out again, her voice raising in pitch and desperation. Kailis wasn't sure if she was addressing him or his brother, but it didn't matter; they both ignored her.

"I... Can... Do it!" Kailis called back between gasps. 

He definitely couldn't do it. He was pretty certain of that now. 

His body was both on fire and frozen in place. His muscles were locking up and every time he tried to reach out for the next stone or dragged his leg up to find a new foothold, he gasped in pain. He realised with a shock that his fingertips were bleeding, the blood soaking into the porous stone and leaving little stains when he let go. That same blood rushed through his head, each heartbeat felt like a pounding drum on the inside of his skull. Tol Covere wobbled to his right, the buildings becoming as fluid as the ocean.

"Give it up, brat," Kriton said, his voice not as strained now that Kailis had closed the gap between them. He leaned over the edge to look at Kailis, silken clothes rippling against the gale that beat at them. "What do you think you're going to prove?" he asked with a smirk. 

Kailis stared up at him through half-closed eyes, swallowing hard against a raw throat. He wanted to prove them wrong. Prove to them that he could do it. That he didn't need magic to do anything. But he knew how stupid that was. He knew how the world worked, he'd travelled it enough. No one cared about magianis. No one cared about him .

" Please , Master Marcello!" the servant wailed up at them, her voice haunting as the winds snatched it away, "bring the child back safely!" She sounded sick with worry. But the fear wasn't for Kailis; it was for what his father would do if he found out she'd failed in her duty. 

"Don't worry, I'll send him down to you," Kriton yelled back, a vicious grin on his face as he looked at Kailis. 

"Wait..." Kailis gasped, scrambling against stone, and scraping his arms as he rushed to reach the roof. Kriton's grin turned into a laugh as he watched Kailis struggle. Leisurely, he lifted his leg, his eyes pooling with gold magic as he prepared to teleport safely to the ground.

"Wait wait wait!" Kailis screamed, panic gripping his chest and squeezing so tight he felt like his ribs might break. The golden mist swirled around Kriton as his foot came down and connected with Kailis' shoulder, slamming into him as only the force of a grown adult kicking a child could achieve. 

Kailis felt himself shudder at the impact as he reached out in desperation, clawing at stone, at air, at Kriton's boot. 

And gripping. 

He tumbled backwards, the world rushing from stone wall and Kriton's sneering face to brilliant blue sky and gulls screeching overhead. 

And then Kriton came with him, yanked forward by Kailis' weight suddenly clutched onto his leg like an anchor.

There was a yelp and a curse and hands in his hair and on his face yanking, pulling, shoving. Kailis crushed his eyes closed, holding onto his brother as tight as he could. Someone screamed from below, the sound sharpening and then cutting off as they plummeted passed the source. 

And then they slammed into the rooftop, Kailis folding in on himself like a sack of vegetables. 

Kailis' body bounced and the siblings came undone, disconnected but still a tangle of limbs and bodies smashing into one another as they tumbled down the roof. The world was a blur, flashes of red tile and stone wall and blue sky and dead trees and pink hair and purple skin and whisps of gold magic that blinked in and out of existence. 

And then Kailis was in freefall again, for just a second, before his back slammed into the courtyard below and everything went dark. 

Kriton stood rigid in their father's study. His hands were pinned to his sides and he stared forward like a Brightblade on parade. Unlike Kailis, he looked little more than windswept, his broken arm and minor injuries having been healed only moments ago. Kailis, in comparison,  stood beside him like a war victim. He was covered in dirt and welting cuts and was swaying a little on his feet. His was face scraped and raw from hitting the roof, his head pounded each time he moved, and there was a pain deep in his spine that wouldn't shift. He'd only passed out for a few minutes, according to the servant, but he felt like he was falling forward, ever forward into darkness.

"You foolish boy," their father spat at Kriton, who stood so statuesque, "you would leave me without an appropriate heir?" he demanded, eyes glowing red with power. Kriton made some small noises, somewhere between a mewling whine and a groan, but his lips remained firmly closed. Their father wasn't interested in hearing him just yet. Kailis' head throbbed and he could feel something tickling the back of his neck, travelling down until it met his shirt. 

Kriton is not a boy , Kailis thought dully. He was a man, even if full-blooded melusine grew slowly. His foot was big and it had stamped into Kailis' shoulder and if Kriton was still a boy he probably would have been okay. Kailis picked at the blood crusted under his nails. 

"You might be a skilled planeswalker, but you're apparently wholly incapable of using your head!" their father exclaimed, pacing out from behind the desk to stand in front of them both. Kailis let his hands fall back to his sides. He might be immune to his father's magic, but that didn't mean he was allowed to move. 

"And you!" their father's ire turned to Kailis and Kriton visibly relaxed, shoulders slumping forward and a gasp of air escaping him. "What were you doing up there? More than breaking my house's wards I hope?" his father asked, standing in front of Kailis and towering over him. Kailis didn't look up.

"He dared me," he said, focusing all his attention on staying upright. The floor seemed to undulate beneath him like a giant serpent.

"And you simply did it?" his father asked incredulously, "are you a dog?"

"No..." Kailis mumbled, gripping the bottom of his shirt and tensing his muscles against the pain that lanced down his spine, "I wanted to prove I could do it."

"And, yet, you obviously could not," his father replied with derision.

"I could!" Kailis yelled, head snapping up to look at his father who scowled down at him from a great height, face like thunder and body an immovable mountain. "If he hadn't kicked me, I would have made it!" He protested, shoving at Kriton's side weakly and doing little more than making him rock onto his heels. 

"It's not my fault you're weak!" Kriton snapped back, grabbing Kailis by the hair and yanking him up onto his toes. Kailis tried not to cry out as the pain erupted at the back of his head, but his vision blurred with tears as he struggled in his brother's grasp.

"Enough," their father said calmly and Kriton released him, shoving him down to fall onto his knees. Kailis stared at the floor, fighting through nausea and pain that crashed down on him like waves. The tears fell one at a time, splattering on the hardwood and landing on the back of his hands. 

"Get up," his father's voice cut in across the whoosh of blood in his ears. Kailis wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and pushed himself up onto shaking legs, stumbling once as the world threatened to go dark again. 

"I will not suffer fools," his father said, arms crossed as he glanced between them both. Kriton stared forehead, face impassive. "Kriton, you will train your brother." 

"Father..." Kriton began, taking a half-step forward, panic creeping into his voice. Their father held up a hand, eyes flooding with magic, and Kriton stopped in place, frozen in the binds that held him.

"If you prove too much a fool to run my empire once I am gone, I will have contingencies. You will train your brother as I trained you." Their father said, releasing Kriton with a flick of his hand. 

"I don't want to run the company..." Kailis muttered, as though anyone would care what he wanted. 

The blow came fast and with force. His father's hand connected with his face and Kailis was flung sideways. He threw his hands out to catch himself but the ground caught him first, his cheek breaking his fall and his skull bouncing off the hardwood floor.

"Pathetic," his father muttered from above him as his vision sank once more to black.

[kemsyne]

Wayfarer Week '24 - Origins

Just a little something for the 3rd anniversary of Wayfarer IF by @idrellegames

The origin of Damsa's nickname, which carried over from her HotB days, so don't take me seriously on any Vestran language used here.

Damsa inhales, draws the bow and lets the arrow fly in one smooth motion. It zips through the air and embeds itself in the target, at least three palms width away from the center. The girl sighs in frustration.

“Well,” Aeran hops down from the barrel nearby and comes to stand closer. “At least you’ve hit the target” he proclaims and immediately ducks as Damsa swats the bow at him.

“I’ve been hitting it for the past ten minutes, you ass,” she smiles despite her words and reaches for another arrow. “I’m just… off.”

“Can you really say that when you’re off consistently? If I were you-” the elf shuts his mouth at the sudden warning look from his friend.

Aeran raises his hands up. “All I’m saying, as the master archer between us two-” he relaxes at the eyeroll Damsa sends his way “Is that you’re not bad at this,” he offers gently.

The bowstring twangs and another arrow lodges itself a sizeable distance from the target’s center. Aeran raises one hand to shield his eyes from the evening sun.

Arriving at the Spire together and being the youngest apprentices by far was a natural foundation to their friendship. Some two years of long lectures, rigorous training by their respective Masters, and getting into, or narrowly avoiding, trouble only built that friendship into a stronger bond.

Aeran glances down at Damsa’s feet.

“How’s your knee?” he asks, nodding towards her heavily bandaged leg. “Still can’t put any weight on it?”

“Not much,” Damsa grimaces. “Sirin says I should count myself lucky to have a knee still. And that it will leave a scar, but should be fine otherwise,” she reaches to scratch under the linens. “Itching is the worst. Why?”

“Because you fell through the floor and landed on a pile of rubble?” Aeran offers incredulously.

“Oh, I remember that,” Damsa straightens up again. “Will remember for a long time after the earful I got,” she huffs. “I’m asking why do you want to know? No one’s blaming you for it, are they?”

The elf shakes his head. “No, no… It’s just that you lean. When you draw the bow?” He mimics the motion at her questioning look. “You lean sideways to keep balance,” he points out and reaches for the practice weapon in Damsa’s hand. “Should be more like this.”

The two switch places and Damsa watches as Aeran draws the bow with ease. The arrow hits the target close to the center mark. Aeran’s lips curl into a smirk.

“See? Easy once you do it right,” he takes another arrow and spins it in his hand before notching. “Why do you want to learn this? I thought you liked the sword better.”

“I do,” Damsa agrees “But I can’t train much with it now, and Sero says I need to work on my upper body strength,” she pauses. “Besides, a great hunter doesn’t limit herself with just one weapon.”

Aeran raises one eyebrow. “I thought we were going to be Wayfarers, not hunters?”

“All wolves are great hunters,” Damsa states as a matter of fact.

Confusion washes over her friend’s expression. “What do wolves have to do with this?” he asks and looks at her as if she had just sprouted a second head.

“My name,” she offers and waits for the blank expression on Aeran’s face to change into an understanding one. “My last name?”

Silence stretches between them.

“Drende?” Damsa’s accent thickens momentarily. “Drende means wolf in old Vestran? Wolves are great hunters?” she gestures and yet, Aeran doesn’t seem sold on her path of thought.

“I think wolves are great hunters because they hunt in packs,” he finally says slowly, skeptically.

“True, but also on their own-”

“They’re big and have big teeth.”

“It’s not about the teeth, Aeran-”

“Have you ever seen a wolf? They are horse-sized!”

“Are you saying I can’t become a great hunter unless I’m a horse?”

The two are face to face now, Aeran’s arms crossed over his chest, and Damsa’s on her hips. The ridiculous nature of their argument lost on both as Aeran narrows his eyes in thought.

“I suppose,” he drawls. “Size doesn’t matter for you, because wolves don’t use weapons like we do.”

“Size doesn’t matter for wolves either, because they are the weapons,” Damsa presses. “And because they are great hunters.”

“...Right.”

“Everyone in my family is a great hunter, and none of them are horse-sized,” Damsa bristles.

“Riiiiight.”

“Aeran.”

“Right, right. You will be a great hunter,” he takes a step back. “Because your family is named after wolves. But they are all people-sized. Little wolves.”

Damsa lunges forwards and Aeran dances away, laughing. She throws a stray pebble in his direction, and then another, shouts a Vestran insult at him with a grin spreading across her lips, and watches, with some amusement, as Aeran trips over his own feet and lands in the pile of straw dummies used for training.

Aeran groans and sits up, pieces of straw sticking from his hair and undoubtedly clinging to the back of his clothes. Damsa limps to him and offers her hand.

“You alright?” she asks, bracing to pull the boy up.

“Yeah, thanks,” Aeran accepts her help. “Little Wolf.”

She lets him fall back in.

[missazurerose]

FFXIV Glamtober 2024 - On the Road

"Sabriel...I don't know who's fault it is, but you have to admit...we're lost."

*Sad chocobo noises*

Top three things Riona Kaeleer is famous for: Saving the world over and over, can't cook worth a damn, has little to no sense of direction.

Master post

General tank/melee (physical and ranged) Dawntrail glam, still using it for several classes now. I've grown to really love this coat.

Uraeus Coat - Loam brown

Wayfarer's Fingerless Gloves

Amatsu Haidate

Expeditioner's Thighboots

Optional - Wayfarer's Necklace