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zacki0gaming · 1 month ago

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Season 2, Episode 4 Part 4 Rant (Final)

The Episode (Part 4)

On to the second half of the episode, we suddenly get a “boss fight” of Cyanide.

Pauses the episode

Me: Ok, I got some things to say about this. Firstly, throughout the boss fight, I notice actual coding that can be probably ciphered, which I’m not even gonna try. But thankfully, someone named @mzoyagon already posted the translation of it.

It reads:

"my name is cyanide" "who am i?" "what am i?" "am i good?" "am i bad?" "my name is cyanide" "my name is teal" "my name is cyanide" "my name is teal"

This cipher probably represents the themes of identity, duality, and moral ambiguity.

I’m finally gonna go ultra analysis on this.

"My name is Cyanide" / "My name is Teal": The alternating names symbolizes the coexistence of the duality or conflicting aspects. Cyanide (or as Teal now)as a corrupt may represent as harmful or destructive. This could be further summarized by her name and definition she initially analyzed in Season 1, Episode 9, saying it as a deadly chemical.

Alternatively, she can be viewed as a "deadly force" - a project created by her caretaker and boss, Dub. She was intended to be a weapon, as demonstrated in this episode when she prematurely matured into her mature form before going to start attacking Cyan and the other Heroes in “ATTACK MODE”. Or, this one sounds kind of dumb but, you might see Cyanide as “the devil herself” along with this because… She has the devil horns on her head, heheh…

As for Teal, (which is still Cyanide herself, but has a pure being now and with a different name) her pure self simply represent a more balanced and calmer side, such as not being dangerous to those around her anymore as a sign of peace for finally being a pure shape like the main Heroes (Cyan, Orange, Gold, and Tsavorite).

"Who am I?" / "What am I?": These simple, seemingly simplistic questions convey a sense of existential uncertainty. Cyanide appears to be grappling with an internal struggle, questioning not only her identity but also her essence and purpose.

This image goes with “Who Am I?” from the translation here above Cyan. It also further proves my point when Cyanide expresses a “question mark” on her face.

"Am I good?" / "Am I bad?": The two lines imply a moral conflict. Cyanide may be questioning her actions, intentions, or inherent nature, perhaps influenced by her duality ("Cyanide" and "Teal").

This image goes along with “Am I Good?”.

This cipher emphasizes the tension between these two identities. For instance, Cyanide's boss fight could mainly reflect her wrestling with the understanding of finding her true morality and identity.

Her path to her redemption keeps on getting cut out because of her corruption & appearance as a corrupt, naiveness, and the large amount of mistrust, mistreatment, or misjudgment from most of the good guys. All she wanted was to find her true self as it eventually leads to her being a purely cured hero.

But, here’s the main problem with this, which I will get into a bit.

Continues the episode

After Cyanide gets purified back into her supposed pure counterpart, which she starts system rebooting herself. Cyan, in shock, says if he actually did do it, which Tsavorite expresses so much excitement by throwing Cyan up into the air before catching him.

Pauses the episode

Me: OH WOW! The entire boss level method works SO. DAMN. WELL. That entire dumb Tree of Life purification method that Gold previously did for his caretaker, Pyrare was for nothing here to just cause... AN ERROR and have Tsavorite literally waste a part of his tree’s power while trying to cure Cyanide!

And you know what, chat? Wanna know the whole subplot for Cyanide's overall character arc here, everyone in my opinion….? Let's contextually ham-fist "The Woobie Trope" into a corrupted hero, who hates being a corrupt and trying to make every effort not to act malevolently or harm others as possible, while getting constant mistrust, mistreatment, or misjudgment from most of the other characters, and almost being painfully naïve for like S1 EP 9-10 to S2 E1 & 4.

I’M NOT JOKING! The resolution of this arc, felt unearned or overly convenient. Her internal struggle gets abruptly solved in an astonishingly simplistic manner, thanks to Cyan's intervention. The entire establishment for it just feels like such a damn cop out to make look way too fucking easy. For some reason, I fought at first that Cyanide was gonna be unusually unable to be uncorrupted. BUT NO! It gets so suddenly solved by having that entire Tree of Life method become instantly pointless here just for it to be so easily fixed by Cyan's heroic non-newbie skills through the "boss level method"!

Continues the episode

Gold says that he guesses Cyanide doesn’t need the Green’s tree, which Orange also replied about it too. After Cyanide “Power On” herself, she gasped while saying if she was actually uncorrupted, while looking at her new appearance.

Pauses the episode

Me: I’m just realizing something. The main reason why it didn’t work was because she was born from the Cyan Tree instead of the Green one. Maybe if they would’ve done it with the Cyan tree instead of Tsavorite’s, than it would have probably worked.

Continues the episode

Cyan zooms over to Cyanide and asks her how she’s feeling, to which Cyanide says she’s feeling euphoric. Tsavorite, while still excited about her finally being a part of the family, he and Cyan asked Cyanide what they and the others would call her. After Cyanide starts thinking about what new name she should be called, she then tells the others that her name is now “Teal”.

Tsavorite says the name, Teal fits perfect for her and is officially now part of the family. Teal than thanks Circubit again for his help before the screen goes to black. The scene starts to move the camera to the Royal Graveyard, which we see the Reaper (La Danse Macabre) themselves. Circubit finally shows up and was happy to see the Reaper (La Danse Macabre) still here at the graveyard and wants to ask them for a favor.

Pauses the episode

Me: OK, I wanna tell you something that I found out from the Reaper (La Danse Macabre)’s official appearance here. I recently remember a user named, @pavtriobnal that sums up it’s entire appearance in this image perfectly. It legitimately looks like a fucking SPUNKI OC. I’m not kidding, like am I wrong on this? 🤣🤣

Continues the episode

The Reaper (La Danse Macabre) asks about the favor, saying that it better be something than resurrection. Circubit replies to the Reaper about having the resurrection part only be preferable to only himself and then says it’s something else that he wants.

Circubit asks the Reaper for a request to corrupt a caretaker, in which the Reaper questions him about which caretaker he’s referring to. Circubit answers that it’s Iris himself, while unbeknownst to the duo, they are being spied on by the Bossfight Group, Cintagon and Circumsphere.

Cintagon says, “Oh my god” before asking Circumsphere about the reason for revisiting his homeland. Circumsphere tells him that he had a hunch that the reaper would be a problem due to the Pink Corruption Virus, and saying he didn’t expect Circusic would be revived of all shapes, implying to the dead spheres in the graveyard.

Circumsphere tells Cintagon that they need to return to the Spheral Village to warn the others as possible before the credits shown.

The Episode finally concludes here

Final Verdict

Ok, now for the final verdict for Season 2, Episode 4 as a whole. I’m gonna unfortunately gonna give this a 4/10. Season 2 is… Really starting off to a pretty bad start for me in my opinion in the first 4 episodes…

Cons

Most of the episode was like a poorly constructed Cyanide-focused installment. Nothing else... Circubit’s return was handled clumsily, seemingly shoehorned out of no where without proper buildup or context. His sudden reappearance, coupled with the introduction of his new ability to allow himself to control between as a pure or corrupted shape, felt contrived and poorly integrated. His return is basically wanting us too see how the fucking catalyst for Cyanide's prematurity will go. But, this transformation left it's execution left so much to be desired just for it to immediately go away in this episode.

Additionally, the lack of explanation regarding Circusic’s abrupt reversion from Season 2, Episode 2, which inexplicably led to his sudden change back into his corrupted counterpart in the opening scene was just a bizarre oversight to watch. Unless, you guys provide possible theories like me on WHY it happened in the first place. But, there was no clarity or context provided for this shift.

Heroes are about to start swearing, which is just generally uncomfortable. Circubit unintentionally teaching Cyanide the swear word, "Asshole", even though the duo doesn't care, which is just totally unnecessary for cheap, lazy humor for the series (although some of you people will probably find it funny or not).

Cyanide’s (now Teal) character arc has been profoundly underwhelming. The progression from a kind yet overly naïve corrupt, mistreated and dismissed by those around her for three consecutive episodes, to a sudden desire for change, feels poorly executed. This shift, culminating in that subplot being resolved abruptly within this episode, comes across as a rushed and lazy decision.

Pros

Now onto pros, which they are at least a few.

Cyanide’s boss level was actually interesting, especially going along with the cipher analysis for her character. Even though like I said, the execution isn’t good enough for me.

It is somewhat intriguing to observe Circubit creating a specific task by the Reaper creature, aiming to corrupt Iris for reasons that remain unclear—possibly as an act of revenge or for some other purpose. It could be potentially good for this development to open a door for an actual plotline to explore the dynamic between Iris and his corrupted counterpart. Such as, diving into what he's soul realm will look like, revealing his counterpart's motivations. Or, maybe perhaps even exposing hidden insecurities that Iris harbors but conceals from those around him like how Cubic expose Cube's insecurity on his caretaking skills to his hero, Cyan since Season 1, Episode 3. (But, I don't know, considering his unlikability).

The Bossfight Group is set to return in the next episode, most likely airing somewhere next year for Season 2, Episode 5. We get a bit of additional depth of Circumsphere's character, as he reveals to Cintagon his awareness of Circusic and the Reaper Creature, even though I expecting more here. It is also possible that Circumsphere and Circusic may have once been acquaintances or even former friends.

So yeah, this episode is way worse than simply receiving a present filled with black coal on a warm, Christmas morning.

Anyway, HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!

#the pink corruption #tpc #pink corruption #brittcorruption #jsab tpc #episode rant #tpc long post #tpc deeper analysis #tpc teal #tpc circubit #tpc cyanide

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esoteric-chaos · 1 year ago

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Pine - The Mundane and Magical 101

Growing up on my edge of the west coast, Pine trees have always been abundant. Specifically the Western White Pine for example.

This plant spirit is one I work with generally in the winter as this is where I personally feel it’s energy is stronger. It's a wonderful plant to work with and has been used by indigenous cultures to this land for healing. To venerate and honour this land I work with Pine.

Scientific Name: Pinus

Family: Pinaceae

Parts used: For species of Pine it varies

Planet: Mars

Element: Air

CAUTIONS: It is important to know not all species of Pine are edible. Also please note that if you have pets be cautious with Pine as it can cause irritation to the mouth and gastrointestinal issues. Which can lead to serious complications if ingested. Keep any pine needles and oils out of reach.

ALWAYS check with your local herbalist and doctor before consuming any medicinal medicine as they will be able to direct you on proper dosages. Some medications can also interact and so can some conditions with certain herbs.

Do NOT consume if pregnant and Pine may irritate the gut by creating heartburn.

IMPORTANT: Some Pine trees look very alike to other toxic plants so source responsibility and safely.

Uses in Herbalism and healing:

Internally, pine is a traditional remedy for coughs, colds, allergies, and urinary tract and sinus infections.

Topically, pine is used for infections and to lessen joint inflammation in arthritic conditions.

Uses in Magic:

Pine's correspondences are purification, protection, prosperity, healing, fertility and strength.

Pine needles scattered on the floor is said to drive away evil

When burned it can purify negativity

Needles can be burned for reversal spells or back to sender spells

Money magic

Can be used in oils, teas, incense, washes, etc. Get creative!

Makes a great purifying natural cleaner mixed with vinegar

Branches of pine above the bed is said to keep sickness away

In Japan Pine trees are venerated as sacred. Symbolizing longevity. Some place Pine above the front door to ensure lasting joy within, for the leaves are evergreen.

Recipes:

Herbal Salve for Inflammation - Makes 5 ounces

What you need

1 oz. beeswax (use carnauba wax for a vegan salve)

4 oz. Pine Pitch infused oil in Olive Oil - See my Infused Oils post to learn more

Directions

Wrap beeswax bar in an old towel. On a sturdy surface, use a hammer to break bar up into small chunks.

Place beeswax in a double boiler and gently warm over low heat until the beeswax melts.

Add herbal oils and stir over low heat until well-mixed.

Remove from heat

Quickly pour warm mixture into prepared heat safe tin(s) or cosmetic glass jar(s)

Store in a cool location for 1 to 3 years.

Sources and extra reading material:

Please remember while I provide sources, some content is my own UPG from working for years intuitively with this herbal ally. What you do not see from my sources assume it is my UPG and take what information you will. Always cross reference and research yourself. All medical knowledge will be sourced.

Books:

Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs (Expanded and Revised Edition) by Scott Cunningham

The Complete Herbal Tutor by Anne McIntyre

Links:

Want to check out my other posts? Here’s the Masterpost

#pine trees #pine cones #pine needles #witchcraft #witch #herbal magic #herbalism #herbalist #herbal medicine #winter solstice #witchblr #pine correspondences #protection magic

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anticiiiipation · 2 years ago

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Fruit & Time (Daryl x Reader)

In which (Y/n) is a pre-apocalypse pop-star dealing with the consequences of her social influence on those she meets. But what happens when she meets someone who has no idea who the hell she even is?

At first, the cold was a welcomed change from what had been torturing you for months, the humid air and destructive heat of the south. But the change of weather brought much more pain to you than relief.

For months, you had been spending your nights in the trees, fending for yourself deep in the forest. It was the easiest way to stay away from the dead, but more importantly, people. It was a hard lifestyle to adjust to, but worth it. Plus, you weren’t half bad at staying alive. Maybe a little bad at staying sane, but you kept most of it together all things considered. You had a system.

You would rise with the sun, untying yourself from the branch you’d made your bed and drop your backpack from whichever tree you had chosen the night before. You’d use your rope and rock climbing harness to lower yourself down the tree. (Both supplies you found in an abandoned nature retreat a few months back)

You’d then, if you were lucky, go find the nearest running water and freshen up as well as try to purify (as best you could) as much water as you could carry. And the rest of your day was spent scavenging through the woods for something to eat. Your favorite was acorns, or mushrooms. You only liked mushrooms if they were cooked though.

Sometimes you could dry out and fry some mushrooms and store them for later too. Like a little treat for later.

In all honesty, you didn’t find it to be the most exciting life, especially when you had to kill the already dead. But it was life now. Everything and everyone you knew from before was gone.

You sighed, looking up at a tall tree that shot straight up twenty feet.

You had found your bed for the night…

Tying one side of your rope to your harness, and the other side to one of the harness clips, you casted your arm back, aiming for one of the higher branches.

With a weak grunt, you threw the hunk of metal up..

And completely missed the branch.

In fact, the clip went up fifteen feet, then directly down over your big, vulnerable head.

You yelped and covered yourself, prematurely wincing as you awaited impact.

The clip made a thud as it landed in the dirt right next to you.

You sighed with relief, picking it up and trying again.

This time, the rope swung over the branch and you lowered it down from the other side, snapping the murderous clip into your harness.

You pulled, testing the weight of the branch. It didn’t budge and you smiled triumphantly.

Then you began the worst part of your day. Climbing the tree.

It didn’t take that long, honestly. But you wouldn’t call have called yourself a star athlete even before everything happened. At least some things really don’t change.

You used your lackluster upper body strength and the rope to reach a low hanging branch and managed to pull yourself up the rest of the way. Skillfully, you slithered your way to the desired branch and pulled your rope up.

The sun began setting and the cold was already setting in. God, this weather was an issue..

You reached around and pulled the ratty blanket? It was better described as a depressed piece of cloth. Regardless, you pulled it from your backpack, shrugging it over your shoulders.

Your feet swung in the wind, numbed by miles of walking and the beginnings of winter. You shuffled, wondering if sitting on tree branches every night was changing the shape of your butt. You frowned. You hoped not. You liked your butt..

As a treat, you even busted out your fried mushrooms and snacked on them like they were the worlds worst french fries.

Your snack was cut short when a herd of the dead began to stumble through the trees.

They were going west, and you watched their heads from above as they stumbled past you.

You were headed east. It was the only goal you had.

Its what you had agreed on…

You were high enough to avoid catching any of their attention, so you just watched and plugged your nose. It was like people-watching, but now it was a little more sad. Instead of looking at the woman with blue hair and wondering about her life, you look at her corpse stumble past and wonder how she ended up how she is.

Still, it wasn’t boring. "Morbidly fascinating" is what Daniel would call it. God, that pretentious dork would rant about the dead like he was the professor of it. After everything, losing his mom, his brother, and all of our friends, he would still talk about everything he could with the passion of the sun.

You wiped the sweat from your face, eyeing every movement surrounding your group as you moved through the empty streets of some abandoned So-Cal suburb.

"It’ll be a few more years of this at most." Daniel spoke generally to anyone listening.

"How’s that?" Bea humored him. You rolled your eyes.

"Well, these things are rotting, right? They have a shelf life then. An expiration date. Given a few years, at least in the hot places around the world, they’ll all be nothing but bones."

"Wow.." Bea awed. "How do you know this stuff?"

"Common sense?" You teased, a bit annoyed by Bea’s gawking. Daniel frowned at you. "He only sounds smart cause of that accent." You "whispered" at Bea. The brit in question scoffed.

"You don't think I’m smart?!" Daniel put his hand on his heart.

You gave him an exaggerated sympathetic smile. "Of course not, sweetie."

He grinned for a second, then scowled once he realized what you really meant.

He pulled you by your hips, stopping as the group continued forward.

His hand traveled up your arm and found your hand as he rested his head over your shoulder.

"If I’m the idiot, then you’re an imbecile." He pulled your hand in front of your face, the shiny engagement ring shimmering in your face.

You scoffed and leaned your head back on his chest. "Your defense is that I’m even dumber for wanting to marry you?" You asked.

"Yes, absolutely." He argued.

"Then that makes you the one who asked to marry an imbecile, making you, officially, a moron." You turned and poked his chest.

"Ooh, then you agreed to marry a moron!"

"I absolutely did."

He beamed like he was the sun itself and leaned down to kiss you.

You had to push him away after he kept leaning into you to the point that your back was bending.

"We have to catch up, you big moron." You teased.

"That’s not fair." He argued.

"What? We agreed you’re a moron, didn’t we?"

"See, no. You created a paradox when you said-"

"Daniel?"

"Yes?"

"Let’s go."

"Yes ma’am."

You wiped at tear from your face, deciding that the moon was a much better point of focus. Daniel was growing more distant in your memory as of late. You decided forgetting made you much sadder than constantly thinking about him. About losing him..

The wind blew and felt as if it froze the tear on your cheek.

You had maybe a month before it would be too cold to keep sleeping in trees. Then what? Any town or building you could find is an open invitation for people. You didn’t want to risk it. For you, being around anyone was like playing Russian roulette.

You wondered if there were any caves around, but scoffed once you realized in your eight months of traveling you hadn’t seen a single cave.

And then that made you wonder about bears. You wondered if there were bears around. And you wondered what it would take to tame a bear. You’d probably need to tame a baby, but that means you’d have to kill it’s mom. You frowned. That seems cruel. Plus, would the baby even trust you if you killed it’s mom in front of it? And how could you even kill a-

There was a noise you could only describe as.. sharp? that startled you, making you freeze and tuck your legs back.

Shuffling then came from the bush right in front of you, and about ten of the dead stumbled towards the noise from either side.

You had your back firmly against the trunk of the tree, trying to squint through the darkness, the full moon giving you a sliver of assistance.

Another sharp whizzing sound came, and a clearly living person emerged from ahead of you, large, shadow-concealed weapon extended as more of the dead staggered towards them.

You let out a sharp breath as the figure dropped the weapon and pulled out a knife, dropping the dead like flies.

To your left, you spotted at least five more of the things staggering through the trees, completely out of the person’s line of sight.

It was some sort of complex, instinctual force within you, throwing the open end of your rope down and clicking your flashlight on.

You illuminated the figure, a man with a crossbow, and he looked up to you with wide eyes.

"HEY!" You called, shining the light on the rope below.

He looked down at it then back up at you, and as more of the dead staggered into sight, he had no choice but to pull himself up the tree, swinging his feet over the lowest branch just before he was about to be made into a dead person’s dinner.

He began moving higher, and you kept your light trained on him, hand obviously shaking with uncertainty and fear.

The man noticed your fear and stopped climbing, situated on one of the lower branches.

The dead piled at the bottom of the tree, clawing at the bark from all sides.

"Are you okay..?" You said with a hoarse voice from months of not speaking.

He was breathing heavily, looking down at the small group.

He looked up towards you and squinted, light shining directly in his face.

"I’m fine.. thanks." He said, voice even more gravely than yours.

"Yeah.. no prob." You cleared your throat.

"Can you turn that thing off?" He asked, noticeably trying to be more polite than he was probably feeling.

You gulped, hesitant.

"That’s just gonna bring more of em here." He warned.

You knew he was right but it was still nerve wracking. You’d be plunged into darkness with a strange southern man without anywhere to go.

A reluctant click came, and you were casted in complete darkness for a moment.

You were frozen with fear as you waited for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. You didn’t really know what to expect. Your mind conjured up a huge monster lurching towards you, as if the world wasn’t scary enough already.

When your eyes finally did adjust to the darkness, he was in the exact same position, looking just as concerned as you.

You were too scared to consider it, but he was trying to see the mysterious, light shrouded figure who had saved him. Your breath began to steady as you watched him, unmoving. The sound of growls and gurgles on the ground was the only thing that let you know that the world wasn’t frozen.

You were able to clock the fear in his own eyes as the moon moved past the canopy of leaves above.

"I’m (Y/n)." You said, making an attempt at a polite smile instead of wide eyes and deathly silence.

"How’d you end up’ up here?" He asked after a second.

"Oh, I chose to be up here." You explained.

"It’s cold." He stated.

You shrugged. He saw the action as you were completely made of shadow, moon directly behind you, casting a glow around your mysterious form. It was almost ethereal looking, but your nervous voice made the scene more comical than anything.

"Are you alone?" You asked him, breaking through the silence.

"I have a group. A community."

You didn’t want to pry about any of that so you opted for silence again.

"You alone?" He asked, looking around the empty forest.

"No." You answered quickly, pitch rising. "I.. my fiancé is with me."

His head moved. He was looking around.

"He’s not here now. He’s getting supplies." You lied. "But he’ll be back.. and don’t try anything cause he knows how to hunt and he’ll find you." You were being cowardly, you knew that, but in a situation like this, better to lie then end up dead.

"What-? I ain’t-" he was taken aback. "You’re fine. I jus’ wanna know if I was gonna get jumped."

You squinted as the moon disappeared behind the trees next to you, casted into darkness with the stranger once again.

"If someone does, they’re not with me." I assured him.

I saw the shadow of his shoulders fall a little. Just a little though.

"What’s your name?" You asked.

Silence followed for a minute.

"Daryl."

You nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see you.

"How’d you get pinned like that?" You pried.

"I was drivin’ n a walker was in the middle of the road. Couldn’t see it until I had to swerve into a tree and ended up out here.." Daryl explained, almost sounding angry or ashamed.

"You were out driving alone?" You asked.

He hesitated. "Yeah.. I’m out here by myself."

Your heart sank, ashamed by your lie when he was so obviously willing to tell you the truth.

"Hungry?" You asked, shame manifesting.

"Nah." He said. "..thanks, though.."

"Mm." You nodded, pulling your mushrooms back out and quietly eating.

"Your fiancé, he comin’ back now?"

"Why??" You hounded, mouth full.

"Does he have a way to know what he’s gonna come back to?" He looked at the slowly dispersing herd below.

"He’s gonna be fine." You said with an unintentional bitterness.

"Right.." the man didn’t want to cause an issue.

You pulled your blanket tighter, pit in your stomach sinking even further.

"You two, when he gets back, n’ if you’re interested, might be able to come back with me."

"To your community?" Yoh asked.

"Mm. You’d both have to answer some questions first, but we’ve got almost forty people and it’s a big place."

"I can’t." You said quickly. "We can’t."

"Why’s that?" He challenged.

You didn’t answer, hoping he’d drop it.

"You’re alone out here." He accused. "That right?"

You huffed. "I told you-"

"I don’t believe that."

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I’m fine out here by myself." You admitted.

"We’ve got more than enough room. It’s getting too cold to sleep in trees." He reasoned.

"Thanks, really, but I can’t." You told him sympathetically.

"How many walkers have you killed?" He asked, ignoring what you had said in its entirety. Though at the time, you thought that he had just dropped it.

"Maybe a hundred? Why?" You asked.

"How many people have you killed?" He asked.

You shuffled uncomfortably for a second.

"Three."

"Why?"

"Two of them, they were both bit. Had to.." you picked at the bark in front of you. "One of them cause he deserved it." Your chest rose with anger.

"What’s that mean?" He pried.

"Someone who hurts women." You stated simply. He understood instantly and you could tell.

"You sure bout stayin out here?" He asked.

You blinked back your tears. "I’m sure."

"Right." He said, barely a whisper.

The night grew quieter and your eyelids became heavy after a while. Even as you dozed off you knew how dumb it was to sleep in front of this stranger.

Maybe it was the months of isolation, but you didn’t feel as if you were in danger and without intention, you slipped into a cold sleep.

When Ao3 eventually comes back, you can find 40+ more chapters of this there :,)

#twd #twd daryl #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon #i miss ao3 #twd fanfiction #fanfic

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industria-adastra · 1 year ago

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Ideal Heaven (Let's become one in mind, body and soul)

Summary: To her, to love, and to act upon that love, was a very simple thing. Because there were exquisitely ugly beings in this world. Because she always knew best. And because she loved anyone and everyone, and because she knew anything and everything…

Kriemhild Gretchen’s love was overpowering, because she only wanted what was best for those whom she loved.

And Kriemhild Gretchen loved humanity.

L-O-V-E L-O-V-E

(Listen to me)

Note: I am held in a chokehold by Vampire Knight rn (It literally rearranged my brain chemistry as a kid) but it doesn't mean I can't write for other fandoms. Like PMMM. And for MadoHomu (kinda) Listen to DOKUZU by Nakiso for a better feel?

------

Today, like every other day, was quiet. Below, the people rushed to get to their destinations, eager for another day of heaven. As always, their hair was perfectly styled, and perfectly coiffed. Their buttons shone and their eyes were glassy.

The sun shone brilliantly, the sky was a perfect blue, and the flowers were blooming—just like every other day. Nothing was out of place: the floor was as polished as a mirror, and the air was as clean as could be. Together, they breathed as one in unison; the air cycling through to be used again and again.

No one was sad, no one was angry. There was no suffering to be found in the empty expressions of her most cherished denizens. Mercy had been given freely, and the consequences had been clear to see.

The birds above in perfectly formed, perfectly trimmed trees sang in pitch-perfect harmony, and Kriemhild Gretchen was happy.

So, so, very happy.

It was a joy only amplified by the peace of the people.

She could feel the happiness of the people—a stagnant emotion like tar. It enveloped every one of them, coursing through their veins and pumping within their hearts. Subsuming them all to elevate their happiness to new heights. Their happiness fed hers, and so out of kindness she fed it right back to them, over, and over again—a negative feedback loop that would never end.

There was no sorrow, no malcontent, and certainly no monsters here. She’d cast the light down, swallowed the darkness and gave priceless salvation. Ugly things did not exist within Kriemhild Gretchen’s world, for neither was there a place for them, nor were they ugly anymore after her mercy. Only beautiful things existed within Kriemhild Gretchen’s world, shining gloriously as a testament to all the good she wrought with her mercy. Because from beauty came rapture, and from rapture came euphoria.

Euphoria meant happiness. Euphoria meant that nothing, nothing would ever colour her pristine world with dreadful, filthy despair again.

Their hearts beat together as one, steady, steady—light and free—and Kriemhild Gretchen knew that all was well.

(But down, down, down, deep below the surface, she could hear that irregular rhythm, all out of sync. And yet—

The world was perfect, perfect, perfect. Trees swayed gently, the vibrant colours dulling further and further as Kriemhild Gretchen dove deeper and deeper within her perfect world.

And yet still, opening the doors, travelling down the path within her steel-cage heart, she found a single blemish.

Not on her, of course. Kriemhild Gretchen was the perfect being who loved all. Her love brought salvation, but salvation had to be wanted. And yet, she supposed she could not blame this blemish within her. For it was that spot of corruption that taught her of the idea of “love”. Love, which was encompassing and all-powerful. Love, which she could take, take, and take.

A love that centred only on two.

For some odd, odd reason, warring with a part of her that screamed to purify that corruption, Kriemhild liked that spot within her. Somehow, she preferred her that way, imperfect and so lovely on her own—her little crow in a sea of doves.

That Girl was so strange. Some days, she wept. Some days, she screamed. Some days, she was almost just content—just enough to sink into Kriemhild’s loving embrace, staining her lovely, lovely skin before yanking herself out. A pretty little bird with contradictory feelings and actions.

Unbinding the chains, Kriemhild Gretchen gently pushed open the doors. Of course, not before ensuring her mask was picture-perfect. In earlier times, in her haste, Kriemhild often came in with the wrong shade of pink, or an unfortunate melted mess of some poofy pink dress amalgamated with neutral beige, or even with hair all too long and ribbons all too mismatched. She even practised her expressions too, moulding her “face” to suit those flashes of images of that other girl.

That being said, all those failures still wrought better behaviour than when she came in as herself.

Passing through those doors as if gliding on air, the Witch of Salvation beheld her one and only sinner. There she lay, sleeping on a bed of soft silk and flesh, eyes closed and her hands clasped over her chest. Kriemhild thought a delicate little crown might suit those elegant features, to complete this image—her own little sleeping beauty.

Slowly, slowly, Kriemhild crept closer; hands outstretched from the walls, closer, closer. She admired the black dress contrasting the pallor of her skin, head tilted as she stared. Yes, the Witch thought. Black truly did suit her slumbering doll.

Closer, closer, closer. Her hand moved to brush lightly against that girl’s cheek. Carefully, Kriemhild willed herself to simply grow out of the bed instead, painting legs on either side of the girl. Hands moved to open the crossed palms on her chest as the girl sunk deeper and deeper into slumber. Kriemhild went down, down, down, pressing her ear against that irregularly beating heart.

Thump, thump, thump. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

A wonderful, sublime sound.

Fingers reached to trace a line from her jaw to her heart, talon-like nails skimming over the unprotected flesh of her neck—lamentably marred by a singular, savage bite. One hand slid between raven black strands of hair, tensed, waiting.

And then Kriemhild yanked.

The girl’s eyes snapped open in pain, shiny, dulling amethyst meeting with Kriemhild’s own brightly pink ones. At that, she grinned, ecstatic to see her most beloved sinner singularly focused on her. (What a terrible harbinger of salvation she was, having favourites. But then again, did prophets and apostles not exist?)

“Helloo~ Good morning!” Kriemhild’s hands moved to roughly cup the girl’s face, nails pressing on delicate skin. Her torso moved forward until their noses were only centimetres away from touching, still keeping that manic grin on her “face”.

“M— Mado…ka?” Her poor darling slurred, still ever so out of it. But it was oh so adorable, and all Kriemhild wanted to do was eat her, swallow her down, and meld the two of them until she stopped calling her by the wrong name.

But Kriemhild Gretchen was salvation and mercy personified, so instead, she giggled—a soft, tinkling sound that would reverberate within your ears. Over and over again. She wasn’t angry. No, no. Her little birdie just needed a little…reminder.

In low sotto voce, she responded, “Silly… You know that’s not my name, don’t you?”

And then, a kiss, for the pretty princess. Soft but intent, leaving no other option than for the spell to be broken. Kriemhild’s hands fisted black hair, entangling it within her fingers. The scent of roses filled the air. Then she drew back, watching the fog recede from those purple eyes.

“What’s my name?” Kriemhild calmly asked, seeing sparks flickering once more. The girl didn’t answer. The walls pulsed, contracting flesh and bone. Once, twice.

Thrice.

“Come on, I’m quite sure you know it by now, don’t you? I believe you’re smart enough to remember something as simple as that, right? Come now, say my name.” Kriemhild’s voice was poisonously sweet, a sign of her waning patience. Even a being as magnanimous as her was bound to have a limit to patience. Especially when it came to her name.

Eyes more red than pink bore down at the figure beneath her. She could hear that irregular heart, fluttering its wings like a hummingbird.

“My name, Dear.”

The girl’s eyes darted around, searching for something Kriemhild couldn’t see. Didn’t she know there was nothing here but Kriemhild and her? Nothing else but the two of them (forever, forever, forever). A small, pink tongue quickly swiped at chapped lips, before a light, airy voice came out. “Kriem—” She paused, taking a small glance at Kriemhild’s current, waiting expression. “Kriemhild Gretchen.”

As always these days, her words came slow, not quite the sharp blades they once were. It was indeed a testament to Kriemhild Gretchen’s own mercy and patience, to wait as long as she could. But the reward at the end was always worth it.

“Good girl!” Kriemhild was as quick as always to hand out praise, arms wrapping tight around a thin torso before she squeezed with suppressed euphoria. Little laughs trickled out from her mouth, muffled only by the fact that her face was pressed against the girl’s chest—deforming as it was right now. Minutes passed by before Kriemhild deemed herself safe from melting before her raven’s eyes.

Once again, her hands moved to cup her little birdie’s face before she spoke. “You’ve been becoming more and more of a good girl these days, you know? Before, it would always take such a long time for you to remember that I’m. Not. Madoka.” White noise hung in the air, buzzing with an intensity that only grew and grew.

Her name was Kriemhild Gretchen.

The girl only ever called her “Madoka” when unprompted.

Yes, Kriemhild Gretchen was mercy personified. Yes, she was the most perfect, pure being in this corrupted (now violently cleansed) world. Yes, she only ever did her best to turn this world into paradise. But Kriemhild Gretchen did not share.

These people, this girl most of all, were all hers, hers, hers.

(Because she loved her, and her little birdie loved her too but only through a mask, no matter how inelegant and diminutive it was. Kriemhild Gretchen loved with a ferocity that belied an all-consuming desire for her beautiful raven to love her madly, truly—to allow Kriemhild one day fully swallow her whole, subsuming her so she would never, ever leave. Never, ever cry once more. Kriemhild Gretchen loved this pitiful sinner of hers and no one would take her from Kriemhild.)

It took her much less time to notice the blood leaking from the girl’s nose, eyes, ears, and mouth. This time, she didn’t even have to be told by the drip drip drip of crimson life. Kriemhild shifted in the girl’s lap, noting the subtle wince at the changing weight. She must’ve twisted and broken her legs again.

Gently, Kriemhild wiped away the blood nearing those soft lips, smearing it on her knuckles and her raven’s fine-boned cheek.

What a pretty picture.

She kissed her again.

“You know you’re mine for all eternity, right?”

Her caged bird did not respond.

----

Once, she held in her heart an ice-cold body, perfectly preserved in all its beauty. Mangled yet healing, Kriemhild’s hands held that small heart of her bird’s near her own makeshift body, wondering if she should simply eat it bit by bit or swallow it whole.

For some reason, she’d returned that glowing heart of purple glass back to its original body instead. Staring at the girl who should’ve only been another sinner to her, Kriemhild had not yet understood why she kept her—nor the three other bodies she’d consumed—inside her heart.

Yes, they’d come a long way from that moment.

And yet, and yet… It really wasn’t enough. Kriemhild could feel it in her very soul.

----

That girl… No, “Homura”, was still not content within this world, within her.

How much longer until they would be one? How much longer would she come in, always hearing Madoka, Madoka, Madoka first? How much longer did she have to put up with that mask?

As she pondered those questions, Kriemhild Gretchen swallowed Homura deeper in, creating more doors, creating more thorny vines to keep her most beloved sinner. Perhaps Kriemhild Gretchen’s heaven was imperfect (and oh, how it stung to know so) for Homura. Perhaps Homura only needed to understand her more, by delving deeper into her world.

Perhaps, one day, she would no longer be called “Madoka” first.

And perhaps one day, her heart would not feel so empty.

(Three bodies in, and yet still Kriemhild wanted, wanted, wanted)

#my writing #pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #angst #akemi homura #homura akemi #fanfiction #madoka kaname #kaname madoka #kriemhild gretchen #bad ending #relationship study #cw: abuse #unhealthy relationships #please do tell me if I need to add any more warning tags #Another addition to the skin-crawl library #these girls make me want to chew on a leg

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ficnoire2 · 1 year ago

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A Little Legendborn/Bloodmarked Scent Theory Part Two

William Sitterson scent profile - Citrus/Fresh

“The infirmary is William’s domain. He strides between the tables, his hands coated in silver aether so thick it looks like mercury. The bright citrus smell of his aether signature fills the room.”

What can I say, I love William and his sunny, yet firm disposition. Fruit in the citrus family include oranges, lemons, limes, grapefruit, kumquat, clementine, pomelo…you get the idea.

Citrus - Citrus oils and resins have the power to uplift our mood and bring peace to a space. Think of all the household cleaners you use, how many of them have a citrus profile? Ever wonder why you gravitate towards those scents? Citrus has been used in many cultures for centuries and has healing and therapeutic benefits. It is no wonder William is one of the few people that can calm Sel down in the heat of anger. He is like a gray-eyed Yoda, even-keeled and level. His tranquil sensibilities allow people to put their guard down and open up that much more. The history of the use of citrus in Ayurvedic medicine in India or in religious ceremonies in ancient Egypt is well documented for its ability to purify a space, bringing positive energy which promotes healing. The sweetness of this scent can reduce stress and anxiety.

My final cute William tidbit can be found in this quote:

“After a while, William hands me a lime-colored cloth handkerchief. I stare down at it, puzzled at the alarmingly bright fabric. I hear the smile in his voice. ‘It was my father’s. The line of Gawain is what discerning people call ‘ostentatious’.”

Limes - Limes and their oil represent the ability to cleanse the physical body and heal and purify the soul. Next time you are at Tarjay’, grab some of that lemon/lime-scented Mr. Clean and thank the Scion of Gawain.

Valechaz' scent profile - Soft Oriental, Dry Woods

“He leans into me slightly, and I get a whiff of something dark, spicy, and burning.”

“He steps nearer, until that leather and star-anise smell swirls thick in the air and my cheeks prickle.”

Valechaz’ scent profile is as spicy and sensual as he is. In my reading, I found that his scent calls back to a time of old (much like Incense Daddy Erebus, but more on that later) which is fitting for the 205 year-old most balanced Cambion in the region.

Leather- When used in perfume, leather scents are warm and rich, with a bit of musk. There are smoky and animalistic notes. Valec’s scent was described as burning (we know he brings the heat with him) and the way his eyes turn over red reminds me of a shark whose eyes turn over white before it bites. The scent of leather denotes luxury, sophistication, and masculinity (whatever that means to you). We know Valec is dressed to the nines daily, “Suited and booted” as the old folks used to say. He is also not to be trifled with as he has demonstrated he is 100% with the shits.

Star Anise- Sweet and licorice-y (yes, that is a word), star anise is spicy and intense. It is rich and exotic and is often added to oriental and gourmand fragrance compositions. Star anise compliments a variety of fragrances creating harmonious blends that have endless layering possibilities. Its presence enhances the overall scent, creates depth and complexity, and enables the creation of balanced, captivating fragrances.

The essence of Valec’s scent profile is luxurious, seductive, and balanced on the razor’s edge of ferocity.

Erebus Varelian- Scent Profile Woody Oriental or Woody Amber

“His aether signature surrounds me with scents I associate with ancient trees and holy places: myrrh and saps, incense burning.”

Erebus (affectionately known as Incense Daddy) is such an interesting and mysterious being. He is calculated and opportunistic, and I imagine he has not survived this long without brutal and unwavering tact and a bit of street smarts. His scent hints at his true identity and the power that lives within it.

Incense - Spicy, resinous, and woody, the smell of incense creates a mysterious, warm, richly scented experience. For eons incense has been used in cultural and religious practices dating back to ancient Egypt, China, and India. Its spicy, powdery notes are seductive (like Valechaz’) and smelling incense when none is present can denote spiritual presence or messages from the spiritual realm. Incense can be associated with protection and spiritual growth.

Myrrh - Myrrh tends to go hand in hand with incense. It is described as having a balsamic, spicy, smoky odor. Made from bleeding a Commiphora tree of its resin, in magical circles, myrrh is used with cleansing and purification rituals. It can also be combined with incense for protection against negative energy and rituals related to banishing and breaking curses.

It is no wonder Erebus’ scent is derived from tree resin. Trees hold powerful ancient symbolism (strength, growth, protection) and represent an interconnectedness of all living things. Erebus has been around the block in many iterations, hiding in plain sight. His scent profile calls back to a time when Gods walked amongst men.

“Dark hair, olive skin, a long black jacket, and an aether signature older than the ancients themselves. How many people has he killed, just to walk among us?”

I hope you’ve gotten a kick out of this as I have! What did you notice about the scent families? How do you think they are connected? I have linked part one below as well as my other contributions to this fun little series. Now go on out there and find an "Incense Daddy" to smell.

Scent Part One

Color Theory

Symbolism

#legendborn cycle #tracey deonn #valechaz #erebus #william sitterson #bloodmarked

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crypt-tids · 1 year ago

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A Gift Unto the King

The Pendulum Swings

A gentle breeze shuffled through the trees as the sun rapidly approached the golden hour. The journey had been long and tiresome, but thankfully, uneventful. Save, at least, for a small mishap with an unassuming little pebble that somehow landed Angelique with a terribly painful sprained ankle. Alistair had done his best to heal it, but the most he’d been able to manage was to lessen the pain—he’d thus made a mental note to practice that spell more later.

Angelique rocked back and forth, her wavy, red hair bobbing, as the mule traversed the uneven ground. Alistair tightly clung to the reins, guiding the large animal over the rocks. A short distance away, emerged the faint babbling of a modest brook, and just beyond, a path widened, leading deeper into the forest.

Upon reaching the water’s edge, Alistair stopped the mule, and grabbed their nearly empty canteens from their saddle bag. Removing the caps, he knelt down, allowing the crystal clear water to flow into them. Once filled, he pushed himself up from the ground, brushed the dirt from his knees, and handed the canteens to his sister.

“Purify the water, please.” He directed her, and she did as she was told.

With a moment’s concentration, and a wave of her hand, the water slowly rose out of the containers, suspended freely in front of her. She closed her eyes, and drew her hand to her lips. Softly, she hummed, the vibrations trembling against her delicately closed hand. Then, she raised her pinky and ring finger, forming a widening tunnel through her curled fingers and palm, pulled a deep breath, and blew. Hot air swirled around the suspended blob of water, and within seconds, the water began to boil.

When the last of the air had left her lungs, she drew a replenishing inhale, and willed the pure water back into their respective containers. Alistair handed her the caps, which she replaced, before shoving the freshly filled canteens back into their pouch.

Merely fourteen and she had already mastered such complex heat magic. Alistair found himself endlessly impressed with her on a near constant basis—which Angelique took great pride in, and would occasionally nag him about whenever he fell short in his own spellwork. He never minded it, though. He wanted her to maintain as much confidence as her heart could bear, because he knew that time would humble her, just as it inevitably humbled all healers.

Cool water splashed as they trudged through the creek, soaking Alistair up to his knees. The mule huffed as a few pebbles gave way, before finding his hooves on solid ground once again. Angelique tightly clung to the equine’s short mane to hold herself steady.

Clambering onto the bank, Alistair regained his balance, and tugged at the reins to guide the mule from the water. The water soaking through his pants and boots grew increasingly more uncomfortable with each step, but he did his best to ignore it. When Angelique noticed his discomfort, she waved her hand and, as though pulling a thread from a quilt, forced the water from his clothes and boots. The water swirled around him briefly before she released her hold on it, splashing it onto the ground.

“Thank you.” Alistair nodded towards his sister.

“Would it kill you to take care of yourself for a change?” Angelique groaned, rolling her eyes.

Alistair shrugged, and continued tugging the mule along.

The sun had all but vanished by the time they reached the clearing at the end of the path. Massive oak trees reached towards the blackening sky. Glowing mushrooms lined the path, growing over the bark of fallen timber. It was peaceful, and beautiful, and grand.

“Al.” A timid voice rang through the quiet.

Alistair whipped back towards his sister, who found her wide eyes fixed on the trees, her body rigid. Following her eye-line, he caught the shimmering silver glimmer of a sharpened arrow-head, aimed directly at them. The more he scanned the trees, the more arrows appeared.

Instinctively, Alistair raised his hands, hoping they’d understand. A small group of elves, all wearing similarly modest attire, cautiously approached the young witches, weapons still drawn. Alistair could sense his sister’s unease, though she maintained her composure.

The elves spoke to them in a language they’d never heard before. A language that flowed smoother than sand through an hourglass, with a melody no bird could ever dream of imitating. It was beauty captured in words. The expressions on their faces, however, proved that those words were not an extension of welcomed invitation.

“They wish to know why we’re here.” Angelique whispered.

“How do you know that?” Alistair whispered back through the side of his mouth.

“I don’t.” She explained. “It’s their energy. They’re on guard, but haven’t moved to kill us yet. So, I think that’s what they’re asking us about.”

“And how am I supposed to answer?” He shot back with a forceful whisper, attempting not to alarm the armed elves before them.

“How should I know?! I don’t speak elvish!”

Alistair rolled his eyes, refocusing on the elves, and a silver-tipped spear that was approaching a little too close for his personal comfort.

“We’re healers.” Alistair spoke after a moment. “We’ve come to learn.”

The elves anxiously glanced at each other.

Of course. Alistair thought to himself, sarcastically. “I’m very open to suggestions, Angel.” He whispered.

Angelique sighed, and slowly slid off of the mule’s back, gingerly landing on the ground, ensuring not to place weight on her injured foot. She lifted her empty hands, then gestured to the saddlebag, before slowly slipping her hand into one of the pockets. Gently, she removed a small leather pouch, and dumped a small pile of seeds into her other hand. Cupping her hands together, she pulled them to her lips, and slowly blew into them. Then, she removed her hands from her lips, and slowly unclasped them. As her hand rose upwards, the seeds began to sprout. Roots draped over her fingers as small green stalks emerged from the seed shells. Within a few moments, small purple flowers began to bloom, the fresh lavender scent filling the air.

Taking a careful step forward, Angelique joined her brother, extending her arm to present the freshly grown flowers. She swallowed hard, giving her brother an apprehensive glance.

After a few moments, the spear aimed at them cautiously lowered, and the elf accepted the plants, handing them to another elf at their side. Given an approving nod, the witches both released the tense breaths they were unaware they’d been holding, and their bodies began to relax.

The elf that had accepted the flowers, raised their arm, and with two fingers, beckoned an elf behind them to approach. Reaching into their robes, they produced four iron binding cuffs. They resembled rounded shackles without chains, but with a much more refined execution, almost as though they could be genuine jewelry.

Swinging them open on their hinges, the elf slapped them onto each of the witches’ wrists, magically welding them shut. Immediately, Angelique and Alistair sensed the overwhelming fatigue expanding throughout their bodies as the cuffs suppressed their magical abilities. Angelique gave her older brother a worried glance, which he tried to reassure, to little avail.

The elves directed them to follow, and with three elves following closely behind, they did as they were told.

“Well, they didn’t kill us.” Alistair whispered lightly.

“Yet.” Angelique added.

As they entered the village, they found themselves surrounded by lush greenery and fragrant flowers. Cottages had been built into the trees, connected by a network of woven wooden bridges and stairways. They almost seemed as though they were simply a part of the trees themselves, and always had been.

Elves peered out of their windows and doorways, down at their unexpected visitors as they passed, many holding leery expressions. With each hardened stare, it was beginning to feel more and more like the final waltz to a burning stake.

“Where do you think they’re taking us?” Angelique asked in a hushed whisper.

Alistair clenched his jaw and lightly shook his head. His heart pounded furiously, and he was doing everything in his power to keep his little sister from noticing—unfortunately, she was a bit too observant to miss it.

The village slowly disappeared to their rear, and once again, they were marching through uninhabited woodland. The shuffling of their feet against the dirt and fallen leaves seemed to dissipate into the vast, darkened wood in a way that made them feel incredibly small and alone. Trees rose above them with a grandeur that was nearly impossible to comprehend. In that moment, Alistair had never felt closer to an insect, navigating a world much too large for it.

Giving her a quick glance, Alistair noticed Angelique beginning to hobble with more frequency, drawing more tense breaths through her clenched teeth. Stopping, he grabbed her arm, and tugged her close. The young witch wrapped an arm around her back and crouched, positioning his other arm at the back of her knees.

“Jump.” He directed, and she did as she was told.

Catching her, he lifted her body up to carry her, her slender arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

“I was fine.” She spoke quietly.

“Is that why you jumped?” Alistair smirked, which made his sister frown. “Now isn’t the time to be stubborn.”

She sighed, and nodded, before allowing herself to be carried in silence.

As the trees began to open, there came a faint trickling sound, like running water over a ledge. The sunlight had nearly disappeared, leaving only natural bioluminescence and lanterns to guide the way through the dampening glow of approaching evening.

Before them, amidst the mushrooms and fireflies, rested a beautiful spring, with an aura so intense it nearly seemed to be glowing itself. Its very essence encapsulated the soul in a way that could only be described as divine.

But there was more to it than that. A depth of darkness and fear, tugging at their sleeves, with a power neither witch had ever had the pleasure—or displeasure—of being in the presence of. Whatever held domain over this spring was ancient, and powerful, and most certainly not of this realm.

The elf in the lead turned to face her companions. Her pale skin shimmered a warm gold from the lantern light at her side. Eloquently, she spoke, beckoning the young witches forward.

Giving each other an uneasy glance, the siblings cautiously approached the elf, mere feet from the edge of the sparkling spring. The energy radiating from the water sent ripples of anxiety throughout their bodies, and their hearts pounded.

With a graceful wave of the hand, the elf directed them to enter the pool. Slowly, the witches took an apprehensive step forward, the cool water dancing around their ankles. The forest seemed to fall into silence, as if even the crickets dared not speak.

But something about this was itching in Alistair's brain. Somehow, it felt dreadfully familiar, and the longer they waited, the more he thought about it. Just when he thought he’d exhausted every ounce of his recollection, it came to him. Suddenly, the gravity of the situation rained down on him, and shivers ran up his spine.

This was it, the end of it all. They were going to die.

Carmilla laid rigidly on the plush bed, her head stiffly pressed into the soft down pillow. Her heart pounded in her chest with a ferocity she was having difficulty controlling.

“Try to relax.” Alistair spoke calmly, as he walked over to her side.

“Has that ever worked?” Carmilla sarcastically asked.

“No.” Alastair replied. “Why do you think I burn incense?” He smirked.

Carmilla huffed through her nose and closed her eyes. She breathed deeply, allowing the warm lavender scent to fill her lungs, and gradually, the pounding of her heart lessened.

“You know, it is a bit early to do this kind of energy reading.” Alistair pulled a quartz pendulum from a brown leather pouch, and clasped both hands tightly around it, allowing its thin, silver chain to delicately drape over his fingers. “It is quite possible there will be no confirmation.”

“I am aware.” Carmilla flatly agreed.

Alistair shrugged, and pulled his clasped hands to his mouth, where he quietly whispered to the crystal pendulum. Carmilla couldn’t quite make out the words, but recognized the cadence of an old spell from the world before.

“Elvish?” She asked with uncertainty.

“It is.” Alistair pulled the pendulum away, letting it slip from his hands, catching the silver chain between his fingers. “You speak it?”

“Not much of it, no. No one does anymore.” She sighed heavily. “During the first war, most of our old documents were destroyed. Elvenwood only has a small number of them left in our archives. Sadly, most of the elders that could still read them died long ago.”

“It’s a shame, really. It truly was a beautiful language.” Alistair dangled the pendulum over Carmilla’s lower belly.

“How did you come to know it?”

“My sister and I did a lot of traveling when we were younger. Any healer worth their weight does, at least.” Alistair replied, focusing on the pendulum. “There’s a small village of elves to the north. They live amongst the trees.” He smiled softly. “It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen.”

“The Elvijah.” Carmilla returned.

“You know them?”

“Mm-” Carmilla nodded. “When the war divided the continent, some of the elves migrated north and settled there. ‘Elvijah’ was the old elvish word for our race.” She sighed. “I wasn’t sure there were any of them left.”

“The village was thriving last I saw it.” Alistair assured, watching as the pendulum started to sway.

“I’m glad.” Carmilla smiled. “But, I’m surprised they trusted you. Elves tend to be wary of others, especially witches.”

“I never said they trusted us.” Alistair laughed. “They nearly killed us twice.”

Carmilla snickered to herself, some of the tension leaving her body as the conversation progressed.

“Luckily, Angelique always had a bit more of a gift for flower language than I. She’d always carry flower seeds with her, wherever she went—still does. So, she gave them Lavender.”

“And they accepted them?” Carmilla raised a brow, an impressed grin slowly spreading across her face.

“They did.” Alistair nodded, closely watching the slight movements of the pendulum. “However, we were forced to wear binding cuffs while in the village.”

“Ah, that doesn't surprise me.” Carmilla returned her gaze to the wooden beamed ceiling above her. “How long were you there?”

“Nearly two months.”

“With binding cuffs?!” She shot back, incredulously.

Alistair nodded.

“It was a bit like having an itch you can’t scratch, to be honest. Absolute torture.” He chuckled.

“No elf has ever survived that long without going insane. The Elvijah created them thousands of years ago as punishment for those that strayed from the righteous path. I don’t believe Elvenwood has even so much as thought of using them in over two centuries.” Carmilla sighed, fingers lightly picking at the blanket beneath her. “Not that we’ve had much reason to use them, but, it was still a bit… barbaric.”

“It is,” Alistair agreed solemnly, “but elves are a bit different from witches. Most of our magic is simply harnessed and manipulated from the energy around us. Very little of it actually resides within us. Elves on the other hand, are the incarnation of genuine magic. It’s as much a part of you as air is to our lungs. Without it-”

“We have no self.” Carmilla finished, her voice low.

“Precisely.” Alistair nodded. “So for us, the cuffs were more or less simply an aggravation. Eventually, I’m sure it would’ve worn us away, but we had no intention of staying that long.” The pendulum started to rotate in a tight circle. “The healing springs, however, that was the most terrified I’d ever been in my entire life.” Alistair shook his head with a small smile.

“You’ve… been to a healing spring?” Carmilla’s face fell into delicate curiosity.

Alistair nodded, maintaining focus on the pendulum.

“It was breath-taking,” he reminisced, “in more ways than one.” He finished with a smirk.

“There’s a healing spring in Elvenwood, but I could never bring myself to go.”

“Why’s that?” Alistair asked, the pendulum’s movements widening slightly.

“I was always terrified the fae would deem me unworthy of bathing in it.” She half laughed.

“Someone with your strength, and heart, could never be deemed unworthy by the fae.” Alistair spoke kindly, pulling the pendulum away from Carmilla’s belly.

“How can you be so sure?” She asked, sitting up in bed.

“Because neither me, nor my sister, died in the waters of the healing spring,” he set the pendulum down, carefully, before continuing, “and I know for a fact that you couldn’t possibly be less worthy than us.”

Carmilla smiled softly, and nodded. The thought had never occurred to her that Alistair could’ve been deemed unworthy. Healers were usually such wholesome folk, but the average witch, on the other hand, wasn’t necessarily in the same vein.

“The energy signature was weak, as expected, but certainly undeniable.” Alistair changed the subject, packing the pendulum back into its leather pouch, and turning back to face the young elf. “Congratulations are in order, I imagine.”

“Thank you.” Carmilla replied quietly as she pushed herself up from the bed, new nerves beginning to race through her heart.

“I can do another energy reading for you in a few weeks.” Alistair offered, walking the queen to the door.

Carmilla nodded, giving the witch a small smile, before exiting the room.

As the door shut behind her, she felt almost as though her legs would give out, and she leaned back against it to steady herself.

“Carmilla?” Vin quickly approached her from where he’d been anxiously waiting, and gently took her hand in his.

As his eyes scanned over her, she slowly lifted her doe-eyed gaze, and her chin began to quiver slightly.

“What did he say?” Vin whispered, brushing a ringlet from her soft face.

Carmilla couldn’t bring herself to speak, instead, she just nodded, drawing a shaky breath. In that moment, a deep well of jumbled emotions consumed her, swallowing her whole, and she didn’t have the faintest idea how to climb out of the pit.

Pulling her into a tight embrace, Vin gently stroked the back of her head as she buried her face in his shoulder.

“I don’t understand…” She whispered, more to herself than to Vin. “It happened, just as it should have, so… why am I not relieved?”

Vin sighed. Truthfully, he hadn’t been soothed by the news either. By all accounts, he should’ve been elated. This child was the promise for which the safety and prosperity of his people rested, and its conception was the only thing that guaranteed to hold this already shaky alliance together. But, as he held the young queen in his arms, he too found himself drowning. No longer could he look at this as just a promise, or a concept. It was real, and it was there, nestled between him and a woman he did not love.

“Because,” Vin spoke after a moment, “it shouldn’t have happened this way.”

#artist #mpreg #art #oc #fpreg #a gift unto the king #knightau #writing #vampire #werewolf #elf #dark fantasy

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blood-mocha-latte · 1 year ago

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~ miscellaneous tag game ~

tagged by the lovely @mutantmanifesto and @dontirrigateme <3

Favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

rough draw but munich! 'twas gorgeous and also where I got engaged

Something you’re proud of yourself for?

dragging my ass through college in two years and double majoring. nearly killed me but by god it's done

Favorite books?

the awakening by kate chopin - the woman in white by wilkie collins - all quiet on the western front by erich maria remarque - a tree grows in brooklyn by betty smith - letters from the 442nd by min masuda

Something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?

mah wife (borat voice)

Favorite thing about your culture?

god what even is my culture. how unhinged would i sound if i said swamps and rigatoni

When did you join the HBO War fandom? What was the first show you watched?

joined about three years ago but not on tumblr, but watched the pacific first

Have you read any of Easy Company’s books? If so, which ones were your favorite?

no because i. have a reading list and they aren't up in the queue lmao

Favorite HBO War character and your favorite moment with them?

leckie. he’s like. webster if webster was a wet cat what’s not to love. favorite moment is all moments ever EXCEPT for the sex scenes because what kind of hallucinogen did i take to have to watch that

Do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

i write fic and am. a little consumed by it at all times. i also make edits but am going through a bit of a rut with that so for now only writing thank you

Favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

eliza dushku for her wonderful performances in buffy the vampire slayer and angel (i'm gay. can you tell)

Favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

just this entire dick allen poem which is luztoye coded forever and ever

Random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

hm. idk. i once got bit by a raccoon in a bayou and had to get rabies shots for the next two weeks

If you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?

i write everything by hand and then put in in the Computer which is like. a built in beta edit. and then mah wife (borat voice) betas for me because she's wonderful

Three things that make you smile?

mah wife (borat voice) (i'm predictable)

our air purifier (i’m old)

our vintage dog teapot

Any nicknames you like?

my name is three letters long like there's not a lot of leeway there. i went by adelasia for a while which is my middle name but like. that's it. does papera count

List some people you love to see around on tumblr!

@lamialamia is the pillar of my entire person at all times and genuinely one of the nicest people i’ve ever met. linh wrote this wonderful fic for the secret santa exchange, which i am currently reading and fawning over

@staud is easily one of the talented people in the entire hbo war fandom and has the fucking VISION for gifs and videos. most recent of which i’ve watched (and panicked about) being an incredible eugene sledge video. erin is also just fucking funny bro idk what to tell you

@mutantmanifesto is someone that is like. genuinely a celebrity to me. every time i see lenora’s drawings anywhere i have flashbacks like i’m in the louvre. also just a wonderful person with incredible taste

@ep6bastogne is on a tumblr hiatus right now but always deserves a shoutout. she did incredible edits of skinny sisk, eugene roe, ron speirs, and david webster for the secret santa exchange that changed my brain chemistry forever and is one of the warmest people i’ve ever talked to

@ewipandora is someone that i’m ALWAYS holding hands with <3. both a genuinely funny and wonderful person and has incredible taste in reblogs. ewi is currently doing a band of brothers ship series that i plan to Consume as soon as possible because i have no doubt that they’re incredible

@dcyllom is an incredibly underrated and kind part of my Dashboard Experience™ and is also just wonderful and one of my favorite Tumblr People :)

@educationalporpoises is a genius and an INCREDIBLE writer. zee was my secret santa gifter and this luztoye fic knocked it all the way out of the park and into the cemetery, which is how hard it slayed. also wins for best mutual handle

@almost-a-class-act is ridiculously supportive and kind, and a backbone of the hbo war fandom forever and always. sam’s also one of the best fucking writers to ever grace this earth, with the most recent thing i’ve read being this top notch luztoye fic <3

What would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

die. girl i work in an er i'd be the first to go

Favorite movie?

ladri di biciclette for all time favorite movie ever. a perfect movie

Do you like horror movies?

it depends entirely on the level of homoerotism that can be found in those movies. and also if matthew lillard is in it

Tagging:

everyone mentioned above as well as anyone who wants to do it since i have no clue who’s been tagged :)

#rie talks #tag games

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smallestbubs · 2 years ago

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hi! im thinking about getting rats, is there any advice you could give?

You wanna get more than 1 they need friends for a healthy life.

Girls are more playful and rambunctious than boys, boys are more laid back and chill.

Girls I recommend getting spayed because of their high chance of getting mammary and uterine tumors/cancer. It has to be done less than 5-6 months of age or it won't really help. Boys can get mammary and testicular tumors but it is not as common.

this cage can hold 3, this 5, this 10. When its time to clean I like to use dilute chlorhex. (the link is concentrated, dilute 1-2 capfuls in 16 oz water sprayer.)

for bedding i use a layer of cotton fabric under a layer of fleece, the fleece is soft for their feet and the cotton's absorbable. Then they have hammocks and castles and i use extra cut up fleece as little blankets to put in them.

For food I use oxbow rat food, (there are smaller bags) which can generally be free-fed but sometimes you can get one who eats too much so you have do do maintenance for them. That is their weight in grams divided by 100 times 5. that number would be the amount of oxbow crackers in grams they get a day, which can be split into two feedings. If they need to lose weight just cut the final number in half and feed them that for a couple weeks before going back to maintenance.

They can have most fruits and veggies. for treats i don't use rat treats because they tend to have too much sugar, I just use baby food, so like the mush or puffs just things without too much sugar or sodium. They can't digest lactose very well so little to no dairy products

pretty much any oxbow toy is fine for them, I will also use bird toys with the paper they can shred.

They can be potty trained, I've only been able to get mine to poop in their litter boxes but not pee yet. Just pick up the poops and put them in the box they eventually get the hang of it. I use this potty and this litter. An air purifier is a good thing to have around too, make sure they don't get to the wires.

I do let mine free roam my room when i'm in it, they have cat trees to climb on but the room has to be rat proofed. they will chew on everything, cords, carpet, walls, gotta be prepared to have a few things ruined. they will climb everything to get to a place they haven't been so you have to watch for that. also any little places they might be able to squeeze into. I have a heavy carpet under my door 'cause they can squeeze under and that thing is torn up so much.

Health wise respiratory infections are gonna be your main one, they can get sprains just from climbing and being curious. tumors: mammary, uterine, testicular can all be removed. lung and pituitary cannot. ear infections are rare but can happen those need to be taken care of fast bc they can quickly eat through to the brain an kill the rat. With them chewing on things they're not supposed to they can get abscesses which can resolve on their own, but they can also displace the jaw if they're bad enough and then cause tooth issues, and since their incisors are always growing that may mean frequent tooth trims.

But I think that's about all I got right now.

#pet rats #rats #fancy rat #rat care

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kaylinalexanderbooks · 11 months ago

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Smooth Sumac: What's something that's common & generally helpful in your story?

Red Maple: Which character is the most showy?

Hey friend! Thanks for the ask! (From this tree themed ask game)

Smooth Sumac: What's something that's common & generally helpful in your story?

Feel like this is a lame answer, but the powers and technology are very helpful in TSP. The powers can help fix some issues as well as assist with higher tech. For example, flight turns regular air molecules to negative mass to have the reverse effect on gravity. So now because negative mass can be created by a good chunk of the population, I now have negative mass converters in pretty much anything that could ever involve falling or crashing (e.g., elevator, aircraft) so gravity wouldn't have an adverse effect.

Teleportation also saves on carbon emissions and even then aerokinetics can purify the air.

For what I have for SOTL it's mainly just magic. Need to worldbuild more though!

Red Maple: Which character is the most showy?

Hm. A hard one. Thinking of everyone's fashion sense, I know Maddie and Rose would be if given the opportunity. As is I'm feeling Parker, Teo, or Alex. Atsila probably.

Fashion sense is a hard one for me to get down, but I'm working on it! So this was a good question to ask to get me thinking. Definitely something I'm considering for SOTL development.

Thanks again!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester

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thanagrian · 10 months ago

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thanagar: environment, flora, and fauna

environment: thanagar is a desert planet, in large part due to its proximity to the sun in its solar system. the environment is arid (hot and very dry), with little rainfall that only occurs on a seasonal basis. a similar environment on earth would be the sahara desert. however, unlike the sahara, thanagar is not a sand desert. while there are sandy areas on the planet, most of its surface consists of hard, rocky, dry earth and jagged desert mountains and deep canyons. flatter portions of the planet are prone to flash flooding during the rainy season, which is short but heavy. daytime temperatures exist in extremes upwards of 100 degrees fahrenheit (38 degrees celsius) because there is no moisture in the air to help absorb and block the sun's rays. nighttime temperatures drop rapidly after sundown, with nights being significantly shorter than days.

the primary source of water on thanagar is the sea of scythia; the only ocean on the entire planet. the sea itself is very small --- roughly 150 miles (241km) long and 80 miles (128km) wide, fed by the only three rivers found on the planet. thanaldar, the capital city, is situated between a pair of canyons from which two of these rivers flow. any other water found on the planet is usually deep underground and non-potable unless purified. the lack of water makes agriculture virtually impossible.

flora: most of the flora on thanagar exists in the form of scrub brush or short, woody trees and cacti. plants have adapted to the dry climate by using water conserving characteristics such as smaller, replete leaves or allowing for gas exchange solely at night when water is less likely to evaporate. several species of plant have edible leaves or roots and a select few produce edible fruit. one of these, the plume plant, is used by thanagarians to make a strong form of alcohol, known as plume nectar. however, most other plants are bitter or foul-tasting. thanagarians do cultivate several species of plant for the purpose of consumption, but do not truly farm due to the difficult environment and the fact that meat tends to make up a majority of their diet. agriculture, therefore, is not a staple of thanagarian society.

fauna: animals on thanagar also exist in extremes. they're either very large predators or very small prey. most mammals on thanagar are rodents. other species include reptiles, birds, and insects. the largest predators on the planet are massive, car-sized tarantulas; known by thanagarians as "snare-beasts". these spiders are extremely dangerous and have a potent venom, capable of taking down even the most skilled thanagarian warrior. other predators include crocodile-like creatures that populate the three rivers and the sea. rodents and insects on thanagar are generally larger than their earth counterparts, but are considered harmless and a source of food. snare-beasts and crocodilians are also hunted by groups of warriors and subsequently eaten if successfully killed. fish and other forms of aquatic creatures do make up about a quarter of thanagarian diet. thanagarian birds vary between entirely alien looking and similar to birds on earth. thanagarian "hawks" are four-winged, slightly more reptilian looking, and highly respected by thanagarians. it's considered a crime to kill one, and most thanagarians avoid killing birds in general.

#HEADCANON.#i didn't change too much on this one but yeah

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skumburgers · 1 year ago

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text from Pir Zia Inayat Khan's essay Persian & Indian Visions of the Living Earth in book Spiritual Ecology: Cry of the Earth

photos: Portrait of Shaikh Mu’in al-Din Hasan Chishti / The magical bird Simorgh / Shahnama / Amesha Spentas & Chakras / Shahnama cover Ferdowsi / Bhagavata Purana / Hazrat Inayat Khan

Ideas do not occur in a vacuum, and spiritual ideas are no exception. Sacred visions emerge from the disposition of human personalities, from the shape of historical events, and from the momentum of hallowed customs, but perhaps most fundamentally (transcendental sources aside), they emerge from “airs, waters, and places,” from the character of the landscapes in which they are born.

When epiphanies are redacted and passed down, the loamy pungency of their genesis frequently fades away, so that an abstract doctrine is perpetuated in place of an embodied insight. Such, however, is not always the case. Spiritual traditions are often the deepest repositories of a culture’s knowledge of the ancient bond between person and planet, soul and soil.

[...] The forces of light will thus gain ground, advancing in ascendancy, dispelling malevolence, and speeding the long-awaited day known as the frashkart, when the whole of creation is to be purified, redeemed, illuminated, and rendered immortal.

[...] All that exists is of light, for light is existence itself, the very essence of apparency. God is the “Light of Lights,” and as light kindles light, creation proliferates as a cascade of illumination poured into the dark abyss of nonbeing. In this great chain of being, the angels are links, uniting the manifest world with the infinite brilliance that is its source.

[...] There follows a long, though not infinite, series of Intellects, each receiving light from the Light of Lights and its predecessors, and bequeathing light to its successors. By this causal chain the starry sky is lit up.

[...] Nothing exists on Earth without an underpinning in the world of pure light.

[...] In like fashion, Suhrawardi’s cosmology envisions a universe that is intensely alive and inherently sacred. All existence is the effusion, in pulsing waves, of the holy of holies, the Light of Lights. Transpiring in every clod, puddle, flaming wick, and fluttering breeze is an angelic presence, a sentient and radiant delegate of the cosmic order.

[...] The Qur’an begins, “Read in the name of your Lord” (96:1). What must be read are the ayat, the signs of God. The verses of scripture are signs, but so too are the verses inscribed ”on the horizons and in themselves” (41:53). The holy books of the prophets, Earth’s rapturous geography, and the interior landscapes of the human soul are all of a piece, all pages in a single book, the book in which God’s own story is told. This is a story without end, for, “If all the trees on Earth were pens and the ocean ink, with seven oceans behind it to add to its supply, yet the words of God would not be exhausted” (31:27).

[...] As widely different as were the theological views of Muslim Sufis and Hindu yogis, they had two spiritual perceptions fully in common: the vital livingness of the elements and the status of the human form as a microcosm encapsulating the breadth, depth, and range of the whole universe.

[...] The Vamana Purana sings, “Let all the great elements bless the dawning day: Earth with its smell, water with its taste, fire with its radiance, air with its touch, and sky with its sound.”

[...] Hindu acts of worship are traditionally preceded by bhutashuddhi, the ritual purification of the elements in the body and in the landscape. In this manner the inner and outer dimensions of the universe are brought into symmetry, and the human being is sanctified as an epitome of the surrounding totality. The human heart contains fire and air, sun and moon, lightning and stars, pronounces the Chandogya Upanishad.

The Chishti Sufis share this perception. In the Sum of Yoga attributed to Khwaja Mu’in al-Din Chishti, the entire cosmos is mapped onto the human form:

Know that by His power God Most High created the human body to contain all that He created in the universe: “We will show them Our signs in the horizons and in themselves, until they see …” (41:53). God created the twelve signs of the zodiac in the heavens and also in the human body. The head is Aries, the neck is Taurus, the hands are Gemini, the arms are Cancer, the chest is Leo, the intestine is Virgo, the navel is Libra, the phallus is Scorpio, the thighs are Sagittarius, the knees are Capricorn, the shanks are Aquarius, the soles of the feet are Pisces. The seven planets that revolve beneath the zodiac may be located thus: the heart is the Sun, the liver is Jupiter, the pulmonary artery is the Moon, the kidneys are Venus, the spleen is Saturn, the brain is Mercury, the gall bladder is Mars. God the Glorious and Most High made 360 days in the year, 360 revolutions in the zodiac, 360 mountains on the face of the Earth, 360 great rivers, and in the human body, 360 segments of bone (like the mountains), 360 arteries (like the rivers), 360 epidermal tissues (like the days of the year). The motion of the stomach is like the sea, hairs are like trees, parasites are like beasts of the jungle, the face is like a built-up city, and the skin is like the desert. The world has its four seasons, and these are also present in man: infancy is spring, youth is summer, quiescence is fall, and old age is winter. Thunder corresponds to the voice, lightning to laughter, rain to tears.

To bring microcosm and macrocosm into harmony, yogis and Sufis practiced, and still today practice, kriyas, or meditations, corresponding to the four elements. In his Secret of Love, the twentieth-century Chishti Sufi ‘Aziz Miyan describes the elemental kriyas in this manner: “Earth kriya: Meditate while incrementally burying the body in the ground, from feet to head. Water kriya: Meditate while sitting underwater, lying in the rain, or pouring water over the body. Fire kriya: Meditate before a fire, uniting first with the smoke and then with the flame. Air kriya: Meditate standing on a tree, hill, or roof, wearing a single cloth, facing the wind. Breathe in and out slowly and deeply, inducing the sensation of flight.”

[...] Hazrat Inayat Khan conceived of the Earth as an animate, and in some sense sentient, whole. He wrote, “If the planet on which we live had no intelligence it could not have intelligent beings on it.”9 If Earth possesses a kind of sentience, it follows that the planet may be susceptible to suffering, and Hazrat Inayat Khan made just such an assertion when he wrote, “My deep sigh rises above as a cry of the Earth, and an answer comes from within as a message.” The message of his talks and writings was a call to contemplate the moral and spiritual interconnectedness, and ultimate ontological unity, of all life.

[...] The sacred texts of Mazdaism, Hinduism, and Islam provide a profusion of illuminating perspectives on the nature of embodied existence. While there are undeniable differences in the worldviews communicated in these texts, certain key principles emerge as common understandings. Foremost among these is the insight that the manifest universe is a marvel of providential grace. Following on this is the perception that not only humans, animals, and plants, but all material forms partake of the pervasive light and power of creation, and bear recognition as spiritually alive. Further, the texts make clear the error of imagining human life as hovering autonomously above the natural world. Mystical contemplation of the human form conduces to the realization that the body is profoundly embedded within the wholeness of nature, a totality that each human physically and spiritually personifies. The Indo-Persian prophetic traditions agree: the Earth is alive, we live in and through her, and as we are in her keeping, so is she in ours.

#skumburger

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emblematicemblazer · 1 year ago

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World building and theories of Engage

The Environment of Firene

Using the scene where Alear first meets Veyle, I noticed areas of forest and vast areas of wildflowers. I will start by assessing the forest areas. The trees consist of oak, pine and spruce. In a forest trees generally grow longer because the lower branches are deprived of light meaning they wither and die. This produces long shafts that are useful for carpenters. Forests are important because the roots of the trees hold the earth which protects the soil from erosion and aids soul fertility. Trees are also natural purifiers of the air by releasing oxygen as well as releasing water from the soil to contribute to the formation of clouds. Firene's blue skies full of clean air is an important feature.

The vast number of wildflowers are important for Firene's biodiversity. Insects feed on the flowers which in turn feeds birds and so on. They also provide food for pollinators such as bees and butterflies, which are essential to a kingdom dependent on agriculture. The root systems of wildflowers also stabilise the soil to help prevent flooding. This means that the nutrients in the soil do not wash away. Many wildflowers also have medicinal properties, Jean used some in his formation of medicines.

There are also great fields of tulips. In hanakotoba the tulip is a symbol of charity, trust and fame whereas in the West tulips symbolise confessions of love. The tulip could also be a reference for the Dutch influence in eastern France.

Different areas may have different soil compositions because each region has their speciality. Louis's home region is famous for grapes. His home region must be in gently sloping land because it would allow cold air to drain into adjacent lower areas which is ideal to produce a quality grape.

Tea is grown so there must be areas where there is a warm, humid climate with regular rain.

Wheat is essential for the bready dishes that make up a substantial part of the Firene diet. It can be planted in all four seasons. In winter wheat takes longer to grow due to the decrease in sunlight. Wheat prefers 6 hours of direct sunlight but can survive on less.

Most of the soil would be loamy. Loam is a quality soul where plants survive without supplemental care. Loan holds nutrients and has a texture that retains water to hydrate roots but at the same time drains well so that the roots do not sit in water long enough to rot.

#fire emblem engage #fe engage #firene

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touhoulostword-journal · 2 years ago

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Chance Encounter | Artist: KIKOKASUISAN

Story 1 The Multidimensional Neural Network is a transcendental sensory system that also uses quantum distribution. It is laid out like the roots of a tree that stretch to the ends of the universe and beyond. The way it transmits information is like a giant electronic circuit. Are the visions projected by the system real or fictional? ―This is just one of the endless number of visions. "You… you copy…!" "My, my, it's not like you to lose your composure like that… or should I say it's not like 'me'?!"

Story 2 Junko is a sagacious spirit who has been purified by her grudge toward Chang'e. Junko might have been something like a demi-god who went by the name of ■■ back in the age when gods and humans coexisted on the continent. She comes from a family that worshiped their ancestor Fuxi as a god. It is said that the fox was their family's totem, but there is no supporting evidence of this. She was given the name ■■ because of her beautiful black hair. All of this is just conjecture made up by trying to reconstruct her past that was most likely erased as a result of being purified by her grudge. Nobody knows the truth about her. That's because Junko, as she is now, is not ■■, but the personification of a grudge.

Story 3 Sagacious Spirits Fuxi, a godly culture hero, had a half-human, half-snake body. Nuwa was both his wife and sister. Fuxi was the founder of various continental cultures, including the writing system used before Chinese characters came into existence and the Eight Trigrams (also known as Bagua). Since Fuxi governed the primitive writing system and the Eight Trigrams, he was irrefutably one of the origins of senjutsu and doujutsu. Junko's family was supposedly descended from him, which would mean they were probably primitive hermits by birth. Perhaps the reason she became a sagacious spirit instead of a celestial that a hermit should essentially aim to be might be because her senjutsu was primitive. Although, it is also possible that her own grudge is what might have caused this to happen. In other words, there may be a separate being who became a celestial or lived a fulfilled life as ■■ along with Junko, who is the personification of her deep-seated grudge. It's almost the same as how a ghost can become a divine spirit that further creates bunrei.

Story 4 The Multidimensional Neural Network Although Junko is a divine spirit with a spirit body, she is also a being who is skilled enough with senjutsu to create a Senkai. Senjutsu (along with doujutsu and onmyoujutsu) contains the concepts of rentanjutsu (also known as the application of ancient Chinese alchemy) and fengshuijutsu. Rentanjutsu is the kind of senjutsu that can elevate the human body to something more perfect (like a hermit's sturdy and indestructible vitals and mental fortitude) by meddling with the balance of the Five Phases that make up the human body. The application of Fengshuijutsu is mutually related to rentanjutsu. It deals with the relationship between humans and the city they reside in. Fengshuijutsu is ultimately a large-scale and continuous senjutsu application that bestows the emperor, who is the heart of the city, with hermit-like abilities. Now, what would happen if the senjutsu that applies to humans and cities is amplified and extended to the entire universe and all things in nature…? That would be the third type of senjutsuーI Ching divination that can find spiritual energy out of thin air and use the movements of celestial bodies and light to calculate the fate of all things. The Multidimensional Neural Network is one of the ideological senjutsu in I Ching divination.

Story 5 Destiny Shown by the Stars This is why modern people are ignorant of mysteries. The day the apple fell in front of the eyes of the last natural philosopher and the first mathematical scientist was the day the stars fell from their pedestal of being treated like gods that govern destiny. They are now seen as just mere sources of light and bodies of mass. But guess what? Humans have yet to set foot on the stars. The only celestial body that humankind has infringed upon is a natural satellite―an insignificant lump of dirt and metal. The things that are visible are still just fleeting dreams. The world of celestial bodies is still firmly protected. There are countless theories that don't hold water as soon as the numbers are slightly tweaked. Don't you think so too, Western Magician of the Stars?

#touhou #touhou lost word #story cards #junko

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