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inquisitorsirjohannvonfallbaer · 2 years ago

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So, uh, I hope you don’t mind me adding another thing onto here. Since this post has been in my head since yesterday, I have since managed to track down an online copy of “Dialogi”. It’s sadly written in Fraktur (and thus very hard to read), so I can’t say it with 100% confidence, but it looks like Hertz wasn’t that careful with his sources.

Here’s the specific story Hertz mentioned: (cut because long)

It basically goes like this: A hunting party comes upon a ferocious looking wolf. They all open fire on it, but it just doesn’t get hurt. A rider happens by, who asks what’s going on and the hunters answer that the wolf must be “stahl- und eisenfest” (invulnerable to steel and iron). So the newcomer says that when he was fighting in war, he came upon these guys who have used Passauer Kunst and that what he was about to do worked on those guys, so it must work on the wolf too. He loads his pistol with a “Drahtkugel” (wire bullet? Not sure what to make of that) covered in elderberry mush and hurts the wolf, they go back and meet an old woman with the same wound, she gets accused and then burned to death.

So, the story doesn’t *actually* feature a silver bullet killing a werewolf, but implies that methods that can kill people who’ve used Passauer Kunst can be killed by the same means as werewolves. Silver bullets are one of the traditional means of dispatching this kind of immortal, along with a plethora of other unusual bullets (see, for example, “Handbuch des Deutschen Aberglaubens”, for a rather extensive list). This idea of becoming invulnerable and specifically “kugelfest” by means of a spell, also called “festmachen”, goes back at least to the Thirty Years War. Laube or rather the oral source he draws upon for his book might be the first to associate this with werewolves as well. So my conclusion to the werewolf-silver saga is “origin somewhere in early 17th century Germany”. Of course, the Thirty Years War was a pretty big event and the myth might come from any nation drawn into it*.

*In fact, apart from werewolf myth, “festmachen” has added to at least one other mythical creature, the Fext appearing in various Czech myth collections.

Silver in werewolf folklore?

This is a bit of a ramble but lately I’ve been stuck on the concept that silver is the best weapon against a werewolf. People often suggest a connection to the (full) moon, but in a lot of werewolf folklore the moon has nothing to do with their transformation and it happens every night or certain nights in a pattern.

Interestingly, Curt Siodmak, screenwriter of “The Wolf Man” (1941), which launched the “modern werewolf” in all its glory, is sometimes stated to have completely invented the use of silver, or at least silver bullets (nytimes, maverick-werewolf). But I have seen the concept of using silver against werewolves in folklore from before 1941:

Ashliman compiled German folklore that mentions “a bullet of inherited silver” (Bartsch, 1879), “flintlock with a silver bullet” (Müllenhoff, 1921), and most interestingly:

At first they were powerless against them, until finally the students brought together all of the silver buttons that they had inherited, and with these they killed the werewolves. (Temme, 1840)

That mention of buttons immediately caught my attention, because while the publications about it I’ve been able to find are all from after 1941, in Dutch folkore there is a rather frequent mention that the best weapon against a werewolf is a silver coin, most commonly a ten cent piece (1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6) This coin was usually loaded into a rifle, but one mentions holding it as a talisman.

Furthermore, in Dutch (and some wider Germanic) folklore werewolves are frequently treated as the masculine equivalent of a witch. And I could find mentions from before 1941 of witches being defeated by loading a rifle with silver coins (1934, 1932) or silver in general (1933). There is also a mention of a soldier loading a gun with finely chopped silver in order to chase away ghosts (1933, origin from before 1926) and this interesting piece of magic:

If one wished to shoot a ghost or witch, the rifle would not fire unless one rubbed a piece of silver on the flash pan , only then could one fire or would the flintlock give a spark. (1892)

In both the werewolf and the witch folklore the silver is not always fatal. But it’s described as the only thing that they can be shot with, or that will leave a scar, or a wound they can’t heal from. This certainly does not seem to be the norm though, I’ve seen far more folklore where the werewolves are either not harmed at all, or harmed with normal weapons.

In short, since Curt Siodmak was born in Germany to Jewish parents, I think it’s likely he was more inspired by local folklore than people give him credit for, but I’m very interested in any other (older) mentions of silver and werewolves in folklore. If anyone has anything to share, I’d love to see it!

#werewolves #sorry i have terminal werewolf brain #mythology #long post

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danetobelieve · 5 years ago

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Who’s Fext? || Luce and Winston

As weird as it was being at a high school alumni event, Winston had to admit that at least Luce was there. She was cool. All the Vurals were. In their own way. If they had been forced to go through something like this alone then they weren’t sure that they would’ve come out of it entirely sane. They were dressed appropriately for the event. Just office wear really, a shirt and trousers, a jacket, sneakers, a hoodie, okay maybe they could’ve made more of an effort. But this was something that they were doing to keep their mother happy, rather then because they really wanted to. “Thank god,” Winston said as they headed out of the hall where the event had taken place, “I wasn’t sure that I could take another “have you ever shot a gun?” question if my life depended on it.”

Why the high school had wanted her here was beyond Luce. She didn’t think that “tattoo artist at a local shop” ranked all that highly on the list of things that would inspire kids to stay in school. But, she’d spent her day in the art classes, talking to kids about what she did and how her classes had helped prepare her for her career. Which was objectively a lie-- what she’d learned as an apprentice was what had made her successful. But, they didn’t need to know that. Plus, it was good to see Winston here. She’d spent the last five years living out in her cabin, very deliberately avoiding other people. But, it wasn’t bad seeing the neighbor kid again. “You could have just lied. Would have been fun to see the teacher just go wide-eyed and pull the plug on the whole thing.” Luce said with a grin. “I straight up just told the kids that I dropped out of college a semester in.” SHe said as they walked down the hall together.

Laughing Winston couldn’t help but imagine what the AV club kids -- or whatever the current Gen Z equivalent was -- would say if they tried to claim that they had dropped out of college. “I don’t know if it would work as well for me if I tried to lie about dropping out of college or anything like that, if anything I think that they would know that there is no way that I can actually make it anywhere meaningful in my career without college.” They shuffled their feet as they made their way through the corridors of their old high school. High school hadn’t been the best, and they didn’t exactly miss it. Winston hadn’t really found their feet till college and at that point it was nice that they could put high school well behind them. “Besides, I think I’m still too hard wired to be a good student to fuck with a teacher like that. They probably don’t want to be here either.”

“That’s a good point. Your whole deal requires a lot of studying and shit.” Luce said with a nod. Winston had always been good at that sort of thing-- they’d pretty much grown up together, their interests in tech stuff had gone a long way back. “I figured. But, this is why you’re the one with the internship with WCPD. You’re good and law abiding like that.” Stretching, the material of her flannel shirt rubbed against her forearms in an almost suffocating way. She’d figured it wouldn’t have been a great idea to roll up in her usual outfit-- leather jacket, tank, and jeans-- so she’d worn a flannel under her usual jacket. It didn’t hide the tattoos on her hands, but the art teacher had known who she was inviting when she’d extended the offer. As they walked down the empty hallways, Luce glanced down one of the corridors, a smirk growing on her face. “Hey. Do you remember Mr. Blume? Taught chemistry? Wanna pop by and see if he’s still teaching here?”

“I mean, it is all just practice, just a different way of practicing to the work that you do. Besides, my kind of practicing is a lot less permanent then yours, I don’t know if I would have the nerve to give someone a tattoo, I’d be terrified of fucking up.” Winston swallowed at the thought, imagining how angry they would be if someone gave them a bad tattoo. How did people work their way around something like that? They knew that they definitely didn’t have the spine for it. “Wow, am I that easy to read?” Winston asked with a shake of their head, they tugged at the rolled up sleeves of the shirt they had worn today, wishing that they had taken a leaf out of Luce’s book and dressed more casually. A t-shirt would’ve been more comfortable. AS they moved down the corridors and headed towards the classrooms which were called ‘labs’ they found themselves nodding. “Oh hell yeah, I loved Mr. Blume, he was like the best teacher that they had in this place, is he still around?” Winston made their way down the corridors, in some ways it was like nothing at all had changed. Things seemed to be mostly the same and yet they were different. “Think he’s got the same classroom?”

“That’s why there’s a three year apprenticeship. You practice on oranges for a long time, then pig skin, then yourself.” Luce said, rolling up her sleeves and showing them a faded and honestly kind of shitty crescent moon she had on the inside of her wrist. It was far from her best work, but she kept it as a reminder of how far she’d come in the last few years. “You just work until you’re too good to fuck up.” She said with an easy shrug. “And, you’re only easy to read cuz we grew up together, goofball.” Luce teased. As the two walked down the hall, she couldn’t help but smile a bit wistfully. High school hadn’t been too bad for her, honestly. She’d had to deal with being known as “Bea’s Little Sister” for a while, but by the time Nell and Winston got to high school, she’d carved out her own little niche in the art wing. “He might. I just remember blowing shit up when we learned about combustion reactions. That was fun.” She said with a smile.

“Three years of training so that I could potentially ruin someone’s skin permanently,” Winston chuckled and shrugged, “I don’t think after all of that I would trust myself to do a really good job. But then again I was never the artist that you were.” They glanced at the tattoo and raised an eyebrow. “Damn, you actually did tattoo yourself, that must have been a weird experience.” Luce really seemed to be in her element when it came to tattoos and Winston was kind of impressed. “True, I think when you’ve known a family as long as the Dane’s and Vural’s have known each other then you really get good at reading people, I know exactly what it means when your mom purses her lips. You know how she does.” Winston hadn’t loved high school, they’d not exactly been popular and they’d had friends but they’d also had … well not friends. “He once dropped a tiny bit of sodium straight into a puddle for the class, I don’t think that the janitor ever forgave him for it,” they strutted down the corridor and paused outside of his classroom, peering through the little square window of glass set into the door, Winston spotted him working at the desk at the front of the class. “Hey, he’s in there, you wanna say hi?”

“Eh. It’s all about practice. Some people might start with talent, but that doesn’t mean shit compared to consistent practice.” Luce said, a hint of humor in her tone. That statement could be applied to magic as well. Bea had always been the focus of their parent’s attention, the first born, the one with the flare their parents were looking for. But talent didn’t measure ability. At the mention of her mother, Luce full body shuddered, shaking her head at the mere thought. “You’re not wrong in the slightest.” She agreed. Yet another quote-unquote benefit of living with her sisters… their mothers increased ability to meddle in her life. She fucking hated it. At least when she was in the woods, she’d had some physical distance to keep her family out of her life. Laughing, she grinned at Winston. “That sounds just like him. He is? Shit, yeah, let’s go in there.” Pulling open the door, Luce grinned and waved a hand. “Hey there, Mr. Blume. Still kicking huh?”

“I guess it’s like a musical instrument, the more that you work on it the more confident you are, but also the more able to deal with unexpected shit you are able to be… though I hope with tattoos you don’t often have to deal with any surprises.” Winston laughed gently at the idea of a surprise arising during a tattooing session. That wouldn’t be ideal. Obviously. “It’s nice that you’re back around, I know you had to do your time in the woods and stuff, but it’s cool to actually see you and Nell and Bea more now, there were a couple of years when I was in college and Nell was travelling, kinda felt like you guys were on a different planet you know.” The Vural family had always been beyond good to Winston and they would never forget that goodness. They had given them a lot and they would do whatever they needed to feel as if they were on equal footing once more. Following Luce into the classroom, Winston waved as well. “Hey Mr. Blume, can’t believe you’re still stuck here right…” they fell silent as Mr. Blume’s eyes snapped up and locked with Winston’s leaving a chill to trickle down their spine as they realised something was wrong, “you okay Mr. Blume?”

“Yep, pretty much. Eh,” Luce paused, thinking about the strange walk-in tattoo that she’d just done the other day. “There are some surprises that can happen. Usually just people saying they’re ‘totally fine’ and then passing out on me. When you decide to get a tattoo, just be honest with your artist.” She advised. At their mention of the time when the family was spread all over the place, Luce’s joking expression wavered for a moment. If Winston thought they were on a different planet then, then call her a fucking astronaut. She’d rather be back in her cabin than living with Bea and Nell. She’d had an entire place to herself, now she had a room and a shed. A great shed, but still a shed. As soon as the two of them stepped closer, Luce’s eyes narrowed, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. There was something off, something evil about Mr. Blume. Not in a typical science teacher way either. In straight up, that’s some bad shit kind of way. As Winston moved closer, Luce grabbed them by the shoulder. “Don’t--” Before she could finish that sentence, Mr. Blume vaulted over his desk and hurtled towards them with unnatural speed.

Winston frowned for a moment, “I definitely think that I would be the type to think that I was totally fine when in actuality I would be moments away from passing out, besides, I’m not exactly the best with blood and shock and stuff…” they sighed and shook their head gently before continuing. “Either way, if I do get a tattoo I will do everything that I can to be entirely honest with whoever is putting a permanent mark on my body. Seems like it is in my best interests really.” They noticed Luce’s expression and immediately realised that she hadn’t felt the same. But now didn’t exactly seem the time to ask her about it, so Winston decided that they would simply have to ask about it later. Or not at all. Depended on how they felt it would be received. They didn’t want to intrude after all. “Fuck, run,” Winston didn’t need to see the empty look in Mr. Blume’s eye, they didn’t need to see the way that they had cleared that desk with a single bound and they didn’t need to see the bee line that they were making towards them, “run run run.” They were pushing Luce out of the door and sprinting after them. “I don’t remember Mr. Blume doing that when we had chemistry together, even when I forgot my homework a few too many times.”

As soon as Mr. Blume yeeted himself over the desk, Luce had already turned on her heel and started sprinting away. Thank god she didn’t go running this morning, her legs were fresh and she needed the extra oomph, given she was hauling ass in heavy fucking boots. “Less quipping, more running!” Luce yelled over her shoulder as she booked it down the hallways. The school was empty, which worked out in their favor. But, as she looked behind her, Luce saw that Mr. Blume was hot in pursuit and gaining fast. There was something about his eyes, a dead look behind them, that just screamed ‘oh fuck no’ to her. “This way! Shortcut outta school!” Grabbing Winston’s arm, she pulled a hard right down one of the hallways towards one of the back entrances she’d used to cut class back in the day. Here’s hoping the door lock was still busted. As they neared the double doors, Luce kicked her foot out to push open the door and ran outside into the darkness.

It was all that Winston could do to stop themselves from screaming and swearing. Something that they weren’t about to do in front of someone who they had grown up in semi awe of. “Good idea, more running,” Winston said as they glanced over their shoulder and realised that Mr. Blume was easily keeping pace, in fact they might’ve even been gaining on them. Winston was sure that if Mr. Blume had seen them back in the day then they would’ve definitely told them off for running. Luce seemed to know exactly where they were going however, and as Winston saw that Mr. Blume was maybe seconds behind them they tried to pack on a final burst of speed as they exploded out of the school and into the perpetual night. “My car is in the car park, we should just get the fuck out of here and get someone more qualified to deal with this to help.” Things were going well, they were really making progress, they were getting further and further away and then of course, Winston Dane, the clumsiest person in the world had to have two left feet and trip over a curb.

Luce nodded at Winston’s plan-- it was as good an idea as any and whatever the fuck Mr. Blume was clearly wanted both of them dead. He looked human enough, so maybe if they lured it to the police station, the police would just riddle him with bullets and that would end that situation? Just make up some story about the guy going nuts and trying to murder them? But, as soon as they made it out into the parking lot, Winston tripped and fell over the edge of the curb. Pausing to help them up, Luce gritted her teeth together as she saw that Mr. Blume had not, in fact, been tricked by the sharp turn. “Fuck it.” She said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she and Winston were the only ones around before holding her hands out and letting free a burst of magic. A ball of fire the size of a softball, concentrated and burning a bright white, soared from her hands towards Mr. Blume. “Get fucked, old man!” She yelled. But, instead of engulfing him in flames, something weird happened. The fire seemed to dissipate, recede, the colors growing dimmer and dimmer until there was nothing but smoke in front of him.

After learning the truth about the Vural family, Winston had suspected that Luce could also do magic too, but they weren’t about to admit that to them without letting them explain it first. But apparently when she had thrown a literal ball of bright white fire at Mr. Blume, that wasn’t something that they were going to need to do. “Yeah, get fucked…” Winston had made it to their feet just in time to see the fire expand around Mr. Blume, it should’ve burned them away and yet the magic just seemed to dissipate and vanish as if the oxygen around them had been snuffed out, “okay we should definitely run,” Winston said sprinting past Luce and grabbing her hand, pulling her towards their complete shit mobile. Their ankle twinged gently as they ran, the mostly healed wound that they’d received from the weird gremlin thing at UMWC not loving the amount of aerobic exercise that they were getting. Looking back, Winston tried to think of something that would buy them more time, do anything to get them more space, they had a plan, but it would take them a minute to enact it and they wanted to make sure they were in the car first.

The effort of throwing the ball of fire barely winded Luce, but it was the irritation of watching the man just continue to pursue them that really got to her. What the fuck? How did he just do that? There was no way that he would have been able to just… dissolve her magic like that. It was a fucking fireball. Letting out growl under her breath, she raised her hands again, intent on nuking this man into the ground. But, before she could conjure up another ball of flames, Winston had grabbed her hand and yanked her towards their car. “I can take him!” She protested, but when she saw the way that they were limping, she gritted her teeth. Even if she wanted to try and duke it out with Mr. Blume, there was no way that Winston would be able to manage. They shouldn’t be caught in the middle of this shit. “Ah screw it, the car it is.” She said, running ahead towards the familiar looking vehicle. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” She yelled, watching as Mr. Blume continued his relentless pursuit after them.

“You can absolutely take him I am completely and totally sure of it, but at the same time the guy just absorbed what looked like a white hot fireball, which by the way was very very cool, and I don’t really want to find out what the hell else they can do.” Winston reached into their pocket and dropped their keys immediately. Great. “Uh, if you could throw a few more fireballs at him whilst I get the keys then that would be great,” Winston was already pressed flat to the tarmac of the car park, they were wriggling under the very greasy and dirty underside of their car in an attempt to reach their keys, praying that they would be able to get them before whatever the hell Mr. Blume was got to them first. Somehow they didn’t think that when their old chemistry teacher got their hands on two of his former students that he was going to explain covalent bonds to them or quiz them on the periodic table.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Luce groaned, but stepped up to bat nonetheless. Rolling her sleeves up, she took a deep breath. Calm. Steady and calm. Disregard the neighbor kid behind her fumbling with their keys, completely ignore the murderous chemistry teacher on a warpath. Just straight up forget the fact he’d made her fireball completely vanish in a puff of smoke. None of that mattered, none of it. There was only the fire inside her. The burning, white hot energy. Flames she so carefully stoked and tended to, urging her onwards. And all she had to do was let them free. With a sharp exhale, Luce held out her hands and jets of red hot fire streamed out from her palms. Not fireballs, he’d already demonstrated he didn’t give a shit about those. No, she was going for volume this time. The parking lot lit up with the red hot glow of flames, shooting twenty feet in front of her from both of her hands. Aiming at the ground, she urged the magic on, fueling the fire to burn, even on the empty asphalt. Pulling back her hands, sweat dripped down the side of her face as she glared triumphantly at Mr. Blume, who had stopped for a moment on the other side of the flames.

As Winston’s fingers curled around the ring of their keys, they dragged them towards them and managed to bound up to their feet, slipping their keys in the lock of the car they pulled the door open and slipped the keys into the ignition. As they turned it and heard the car roll over a few times before sputtering into life, Winston thanked whoever had given them luck today because their car never ever started first time. Turning around, they were just in time to see Luce’s hands fire … well flames in great jets in front of them. A huge wall of fire erupted into life and Mr. Blume was hidden from view. Winston’s jaw fell slack and they were awe struck by the sheer display Luce had made. They’d managed small magic but nothing as big as what Luce had just done. For a moment, Winston was convinced that she’d saved them. Second time lucky right? And then, the most terrifying thing that Winston had ever seen happened. Mr. Blume appeared inbetween the flames that licked the open air, and then stepped through the magical inferno, causing the flames to shy away from their form as they made their way forwards. The heat seemed intense however, and Winston was convinced that they could see some of the skin on Mr. Blume’s face sizzle in the heat of the air, but they were through the wall of fire and making their way towards the car. “Luce, get in now!” they snapped, throwing the door open as they spun the car around and revved the engine, ready to speed away.

The second Mr. Blume vanished from sight, Luce had a fleeting moment of exhilaration. She’d done it, she’d made him back off. Maybe she’d even-- before she could get too happy, he appeared again, in the middle of the flames. Her magic was repelled away from him, skirting around his form as he took a slow step towards her. His eyes stared at her, unflinching, entirely focused on her. A chill ran down her spine and she recoiled. “What are you?” She asked, more to herself than to him. Before either of them could respond, Luce heard Winston’s car roar to life, heard them yell at her to get in. They didn’t need to tell her twice. Turning tail, she ran for the door and slid inside, slamming the door shut. Grabbing hold of the Oh Shit Handle, she stared through the window as Mr. Blume continued to come for them. “Let’s get the hell outta here!”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” Mr. Blume was sprinting towards them, Winston could hear their footsteps and see them hurtling towards them in their rear view mirror. They shifted gear, slammed their foot on the accelerator and felt the wheels spin in place for a moment before the car shot off. Keeping their eyes bouncing back from their mirrors and the windscreen, Winston reached inside of themselves and harnessed the well of energy that they accessed in times of magical need. Taking a deep breath, they began chanting under their breath. Mr. Blume was moving with surprising speed and Winston could see them cutting across the car park as Winston was forced to weave between the cars that were still parked here, which wasn’t many. As they reached the exit to the school, Winston turned left and finished their incantation. As they turned left an identical copy of their car appeared to peel off towards the right. Winston slammed the speed on, heading towards the one place that they could think of which might have some information on what the hell this all was and what was going on here. “Fuck, that was really fucking close.”

As they zipped out of the parking lot as quickly as Winston’s car would allow, Luce slumped in the back seat, panting from the effort. Doing a mental check of her energy levels, she grimaced. She’d expended more of her energy on that than she’d originally thought she would. And it didn’t even phase him. What the fuck was Mr. Blume? As she stared out the window of the car, she was startled to see an illusion of their car appear in the middle of the road. What? That wasn’t her. Which meant… Leaning forward, Luce grabbed the back of Winston’s seat to stabilize herself. “Winnie. When were you gonna tell me you were a spellcaster, huh?” She asked, exhaustion letting her annoyance come through in her tone a bit more than she intended.

Perspiration beaded on Winston’s forehead as they slammed their foot down as hard as it would possibly go. They knew that they needed to eat, but they would have to do that later. But they’d found that for them, after using any amount of magic it was important to have a sudden and ferocious hit of calories as soon as possible to avoid too much of a deficit. “Sorry, I ….” they swallowed, “towards the beginning of this year I found out about all of this and I just haven’t been telling people about it because honestly I’m not very good and I also know that with Miriam Flemming out there it isn’t exactly safe to be broadcasting that information.” They took a left, then a right, then three more lefts, then two rights and another right, finally convinced that they were safe, they turned the wheel and headed for the old Scribe building. “But, we need to work out what that was and how we’re going to deal with it, because Mr. Blume is too dangerous to just leave to their own devices apparently, but I have a place we can go.”

#who's fext?#p: luce #wickedswriting #para #chatzy para

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dhaaruni · 2 years ago

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Still, Dr. Biden has her boundaries. The classroom is sacred. She has drawn a line regarding phones at the dinner table. She remains her husband’s fiercest defender—something voters glimpsed in March 2020 when she was likened to a linebacker for tackling a protester who rushed him onstage. (There’s that Philly spirit.) “I try to be a support for Joe, because I don’t know how many people are saying to him, ‘That was great. That was brilliant.’ I try to be that person for him,” she says. “Some days, I see Joe and I’m just like, ‘I don’t know how you’re doing it.’ It’s the pandemic and then it’s the war and then it’s the economy and then it’s the gas prices. You feel like you’re being slammed.” Which is not to say that she holds back when he frustrates her. The president does not get a pass. During the Obama years, they took to hashing out their occasional spats over text to avoid fighting in front of the Secret Service. (They christened it “fexting.”) Not so long ago, she tapped out a message to him in a fit of pique. “Joe said, ‘You realize that’s going to go down in history. There will be a record of that.’” She grins. “I won’t tell you what I called him that time.”

#okay fexting is so CUTE #links #swear to be overdramatic and true #Dr. Jill Biden #joe biden #couples

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shepherds-of-haven · 3 years ago

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are there vampires and werewolves in the shoh universe?

Hi there, there are vampiric folks in Blest, though they're called Fext and are the Tainted offspring of Elves and Endarkened. I actually just talked about them in-depth in a recent Patreon Q&A! And there's a codex document where you can read more about them in Chapter 4.

There aren't werewolves per se in Blest: there are people who can shift into wolf-like creatures if they so choose, like Changelings or Shifters, and there are also giant talking wolves called Ghost Wolves! But nobody cursed to turn into a werewolf during a full moon or anything like that.

Thanks for your question!

#Shepherds of Haven #races #vampire #vampires #werewolf #werewolves #worldbuilding

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handgiven · 1 year ago

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as much as emmanuel enjoyed constantine jumping, he starts to feel bad if only ever so slightly. in the end, it was constantine who trusted him enough to grant him access in his home. "... i didn't mean to upset you. and i'm sorry." when his eyes raise to meet the other's, there is the smallest remnant of light, small enough for him to have deniability anyway.

the book he has picked up is interesting enough, he'd just randomly turned up a page speaking about fexts. it takes much of his focus to read, but he prefers to leave the other to his meal. constantine does not however leave him to his reading. the angel looks up confusedly, almost having forgotten where he was. "why-- oh. really. no reason. i just wanted to see how you were. you weren't around mine for a while." he wanted to check if constantine still had all of his limbs and his head firm on his shoulders.

' . . . oh, aye. you popped up like the nightlight of christmas past to REASSURE me. ' if his unimpressed look gets any flatter, he could toss it like dough. ' no offense to your marketing department, mate, but a being of light's just as atypical as one'o darkness. human minds are a gibbering animal, we get right soddin' territorial. ' brilliant. just how he likes it: no risk, high reward. only it takes him about a MINUTE to start wondering. a few more to start feeling the spindly, skittering legs of paranoia crawling over his skin. then he's scraping the chair around to sit directly facing emmanuel on the couch, speaking around a mouthful of noodles: ' whysat, then? '

#talentforlying #▻ 𝐸𝑀𝑀𝐴𝑁𝑈𝐸𝐿 、roleplay ⁽ ᵃᶜᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁾#'i live here john idk what you mean.' <3 #also if john was a worm em would keep him in a neat lil box and feed him lettuce <3

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corpse--diem · 3 years ago

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[Meta] What monster in the bestiary would be a good thematic nemesis for your character?

Is it too on the nose to say fext? Because fext.

I took a deep dive into the bestiary and there weren’t too many that really jumped out as natural foes for Erin in particular (it’s totally possible I missed something though). Fexts feel like something she might actually need to look out for as someone who technically wields magic now?

I do feel like hunters could pose as a problem for her later on too. Considering her tendency to be a little reckless, combined with her magical naiveity and the massive learning curve she’s adjusting to, it could potentially make her an easy target if she’s not careful.

#wickedsanon #//for reference about the fext thing #bc it’s been a whole ass year since this plot finished #but erin and friends had an epic battle against a douchey fext named Roy chambers

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dailycharacteroption · 4 years ago

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Corrupting Influences: Lich part 4

Variants

The lich corruption is a rarity in that unlike other corruptions, it actively encourages you to use and modify it for other sorts of potential undead corruptions, getting a lot more bang out of your buck in regards to designing horrible slow transformations based on other types of undead.

Of course, not every undead is suitable for using this corruption in tandem with, since obviously other corruptions like ghoul and vampiric exist, the former being more suited to “hungry dead”, while the latter is naturally suited to various subtypes of vampire and vampire-adjacent beings.

The lich corruption, therefore, surely covers most types of corporeal undead that defy either of those categories. (incorporeal undead, by comparison, are most suited to another corruption: possessed).

So today we’ll look at a variety of different undead that are neither flesh-eaters or otherwise hungry, nor are they particularly life-like and blood-draining. Instead, we shall see those undead that are either brought about by magic, or have powers and dark hungers that are more mystical or esoteric.

Though normally limited to children, perhaps a victim might find their voice weak and begin stealing voices like an attic whisperer.

A rare few might be cursed by a bakekujira, the mournful cry of the beast resonating through their withering flesh. Similarly, a bone ship might taint a survivor in a similar way.

Souls scorched by powerful magic, blast shadows are another good option which might have some elemental alternate powers.

Sinister creations of the cruel rawheads, bloodly bones might taint those they prey upon, or perhaps a rawhead that failed to fully create one from a victim leaves them with a treacherous skeleton longing to be free.

Similar to the soul-withering that the normal lich corruption endures, a bodak corruption is a natural fit as well.

A daughter of a legendary evil witch might be cursed to become a crone queen, a drained thing providing vitality to another.

The special-displacing crypt things might also be a valid focus for this corruption.

Those who violate ancient tombs might be subjected to ancient curses, such as that which binds the undead known as cursed kings.

A grim reaper or lesser death might taint someone during a close-encounter with these extinguishers of life.

The very picture of soul-binding, devourers are a viable option for this corruption, save that their soul-consuming taint might pull a soul beyond reality into unfathomable realms.

Dullahans might make for an interesting alternate version of this corruption, particularly if one plays up the horror of the threat of beheading.

Fexts are bred to be unstoppable soldiers, rising again as the undead. It would only make sense, then, if occasionally a seemingly failed fext might suddenly awaken to their fell destiny, weaken, die, and rise again.

Herecites and huecuva, both creatures of blasphemy, are a natural pick for a slow-burning curse.

Pure murderous malice bound in undying vicera and bone, some corrupted might suffer the evil of a morhg festering within themselves.

Perhaps the most appropriate example of an undead corruption spawning from the actions of the victim are probably the entire family of mummies, either being spawned from rituals intended to bring them back in mummified form after death, or from curses inflicted by such beings.

Motivated by revenge as they are, the pale stranger might make for an interesting blend of the lich and accursed corruptions. The same goes for revenants.

As druidic equivalents to liches, siabrae are another strong choice for a variant for this corruption as well, boasting power over earth and stone.

As corpses possessed by their own malevolence, wights are another good candidate as well.

There are probably some undead I missed, but there’s a lot of inspiration to take here for variants! Tune in tomorrow for the conclusion!

#pathfinder #corruption #lich #Horror Adventures

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nelllraiser · 4 years ago

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the ties that bind | luce & nell

TIMING: when luce returned home. LOCATION: the vural residence. PARTIES: @divineluce & @nelllraiser SUMMARY: luce arrives home and nell confronts her about her time away. it goes...about as well as you’d expect.

These days— the pinging of Nell’s bracelet against her wrist everytime someone crossed the property spell of the Vural house caused a jolt of anxiety to run through her, as if she were awaiting a danger that was ever-coming. First she went to the balcony of her room, leaning over the railing of it to see who might have entered onto the Vural property with Taki hot on her heels. Recognition flooded her as a familiar Jeep came into view, though it was quickly followed by confusion, and soon after a twinge in her stomach of uncertainty. Luce was home? She still didn’t know why her sister had left them in the first place, spending many a night sleeping in the greenhouse mattress rather than the one in her room when Bea had been at Felix’s. Being in the house while neither of her sisters were home felt too much akin to when her sister had been dead, and Nell didn’t need that feeling chasing her any more than it already did. Hustling down the stairs, she made it to the front porch by the time Luce was getting out of her car, and for a moment she didn’t know what to say. She knew what she wanted to say. Why did you run away from us after everything? But instead she started off with a simple, “You’re home.”

Driving through town, seeing White Crest again for the first time in nearly a month, Luce couldn’t deny the strange sense of-- not relief, that wasn’t the right word. Comforting familiarity. As fucked as White Crest was, as much as she hated what happened here, as much as she wished that shit could stop going sideways for five fucking minutes, White Crest was home. It was the only home she’d ever known. As she turned down the road leading back to Bea’s house, Luce felt a lump form in the back of her throat. The silver chain around her neck, layered over the dark choker she’d taken to wearing, it felt cool around her neck. The pendant lay against her skin, the herbs inside a reminder of her sisters, who she’d left behind. Who she’d… abandoned. Because she couldn’t handle her shit. Luce sighed as she pulled into the drive way, cutting the engine. “Fuck.” She looked over at Iggy, who was staring at her plaintively from the passenger seat. “I should have just gone back to the cabin, right?” She muttered before opening the door. Before she knew it, Nell was there, staring at her from the porch.

At her sister’s words, Luce nodded, expression guarded. “Yeah.” She grabbed her bag from the car, Iggy scuttling from the seat into the open outer pocket. “Just got back into town.”

It felt like an eternity had already passed since Luce left- as if lifetime’s worth of problems had been packed into a single month of Nell’s existence. But that’s just how White Crest was, wasn’t it? A haven of too many puzzles and not enough solutions. At least one of them had finally solved itself in the form of the full moon passing, and the revelation that by some miracle the werewolf bite hadn’t turned the witch and stolen her powers. It had been one of the heaviest burdens on her shoulders, and finally she could breathe a little easier knowing that the biggest part of her essence wouldn’t be leaving her. But where had Luce been? Between Constance drowning her, Nell’s ribs being cracked, getting bitten by the werewolf, and their former coven being hunted by a murderous fext Nell had been ready to split wide open under the stress. Taki’s tail swished straight past Luce, sensing his witch’s conflicted feelings when it came to her sister, and opting to greet Iggy with a little spout of fire instead. “So you’re back now. Are you staying?” There was perhaps a bit more bite to the words than Nell had intended, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up if they were going to be needlessly dashed.

Hefting her bag over her shoulder, Luce opened the back of the Jeep and let Rhiannon free from her cat carrier, the grey cat scampering out of the Jeep with an excited gleam in her eyes before letting out a slight yowl of panic when she saw the burst of flame from Taki. The young cat darted back into the Jeep, curling up in the carrier again. With a sigh, Luce took hold of Rhiannon’s carrier in one hand and Hamtarot’s cage in the other. Christ, she had a fucking travelling zoo with her. A witch, a fire salamander, a cat, and a cursed hamster walk into the woods. Shutting the door with her back, Luce cast her sister a long look. If Nell didn’t want her here, she’d load her fucking menagerie back into the car and get gone. “Do you want me to?” She asked shortly. If her hands weren’t full, she’d have crossed her arms and stared at Nell. But, as it was, she had several antsy creatures who weren’t too keen on the way Taki was moving towards them. “Creatura diaboli…” Hamtarot squeaked as he took shelter in his wheel. “Quiet.” Luce chided before turning her attention back to Nell. “I can go.”

After greeting Iggy, Taki made his rounds to Rhiannon, sniffing her curiously as if wondering if he’d found a new playmate. As for Nell, her welcome was still uncertain, perhaps wondering if she should even make the effort if Luce was going to disappear again in another week or two. “Does it even matter if I want you to?” Nell answered in a tone that might have been harsher than she’d intended. But after the past few weeks of feeling like she was the edge of a crumbling cliff, and spending most nights alone in the house— the only way she knew how to protect herself from more disappointment was being defensive. How could Luce just leave? So many had left in Nell’s life, and the fact that Luce had known such a thing and continued to leave anyway only added salt into the wound. Did her sister even care that she’d added to an age old scar? Nell’s eyes flickered towards the hamster, grateful for the discretion as she replied to his worries. “Quod non cat vos manducare. Et cessabit.” She still didn’t know if the hamster understood Latin in response. “Why’d you come back, Luce? Why’d you leave in the first place?”

Luce kept her face impassive at Nell’s words, but the bite to her sister’s tone stung. She deserved it, though. She knew she did. She’d left without warning, just tossed her things in the back of her Jeep and drove away that day. She knew that she needed breathing room, needed some fucking space to just exist. But, she hadn’t realized how long she’d be gone. Otherwise… what, she would have told her sisters? No, she wouldn’t have done that. She wouldn’t have warned them, because they would have tried to keep her here. Or worse, they would have asked her why. Just like Nell was right now. “It matters.” She said and sighed, shifting her grip on the cat carrier as Rhiannon hissed and batted at Taki through the fabric. “Can we have this conversation when I’m not balancing half of Noah’s fucking arc?” She shot back, irritation flaring up before she could catch herself. “I’ll explain. I don’t exactly have a good answer, but I’ll explain if I can fucking just… breathe for a second.”

Nell’s lips pursed at Luce’s claim, and couldn’t help but wonder if he sister was saying it simply because she thought it was what Nell wanted to hear. Or maybe it was because she didn’t want to come home to a fight. She’d thought things would be different after watching Bea die, after they’d banded together and then promised each other that there would be no more secrets. So what had happened? Where had the wrench been thrown into the situation? Nell’s own temper was quick to rise at Luce’s miniature outburst, her arms crossing over her chest instead of reaching to help her sister with the creatures. “Fine,” was the witch’s curt reply as she turned on her heel to walk back through their front door. Luce needed to breathe for a second? Where the fuck had Nell’s chances to breath been over the past month? Did Luce realize how close she’d been to shattering against the floor? Had she even cared? “I’m ready when you are,” Nell said as she half-sat herself on the arm of the couch, still too upset to fully sink onto it. It was a battle ready pose, as if she thought a fight with her sister were inevitable at this point.

At least she’d stopped Nell from blowing up before she could even get inside. But, Luce knew that she was only putting off the inevitable. Following behind her sister, Luce made her way to her room. The house was just as it had been before, though there were tell-tale signs that the place had sat empty more days than not. She pushed open the door to her room and set Hamtarot’s cage down before letting Rhiannon out once more from her cat carrier. With a sigh, Luce set her backpack down and watched as Iggy crawled out of the pocket and onto her bed. The fire salamander glanced over at the door before blinking at her. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” She said, tapping him on the nose before heading back out. As soon as she entered the living room, Luce saw Nell perched on the couch. “Like I said, I don’t have a good reason for why I left. I just needed to get out of town. Not because there was shit chasing me, not because I had to go on some bullshit trek to find something that could save the town. I just needed to fucking get out of White Crest.” She said.

Bea had come by more often than she had when Luce had been in the house, though it had quickly been revealed that this was mostly because Bea had thought Luce was uncomfortable with the eldest daughter floating around the home. Unfortunately it was quite the opposite for Nell, who’s discomfort and paranoia peaked when the house was empty which was impossible to avoid with the sisters treating the abode as some sort of revolving door. “And you couldn’t fucking tell anyone? Or answer my fucking texts?” Nell immediately shot back, feeling the hurt that had brewed inside her bubble up the more she talked. “It became pretty fucking apparent that I just might as well stop texting you all together if you weren’t gonna give a shit. You can’t just disappear, Luce! Not after everything. Go fuck off to wherever if you want and leave us here, but you could at least remember we’re alive for two seconds. For all you know-” They could have been dead. “Whatever-” Nell left the sentence unfinished, shoulders tensed as she stood straight. “Welcome fucking home or whatever.”

Folding her arms across her chest, Luce stared at her sister. It hurt to hear. Not because of the sharpness in her sister’s tone, or the anger that reverberated in her words-- it hurt because Nell was right. Luce didn’t have a good reason for why she’d let her phone go dead, why she didn’t bother to find a charger, why she’d kept her laptop unplugged from the wifi. Which wasn’t to say she didn’t have a reason. She did. It just wasn’t one that anyone wanted to hear. “I didn’t see your texts until I got back. My phone died.” She said, knowing full well it was just as much an excuse as it was the truth. “I know you were here-- you think I just stopped thinking about you and Bea because I wasn’t here? Do you really think I wasn’t worried about you?” She growled. She had been, of course she had been. But words and talking and feelings and letting the people she loved know that they were just that-- that they were loved-- had never been a part of her life before. “Do you want me here or not? Because it really doesn’t feel like you do.”

“For a whole month?!” Nell’s voice was growing more strained as she went, baffled at the excuse and by Luce’s audacity at saying it. She shouldn't have been surprised, but she’d thought that her sister would have at least wanted to know she was breathing and moving after what had happened with Bea. Meanwhile Nell tried to remember when it was she’d given up on texting Luce, and how much information she would have now. The younger sister had stopped trying before the entire werewolf bite debacle, not wanting to be disappointed by a lack of a ‘delivered’ notification once again, having no desire to pile the sinking feeling of being ignored on top of the stress she’d nearly crumbled under. “If you were worried, you sure have a funny way of showing it.” Nell’s own hands balled into fists at her sides, already having pushed herself off the edge of the couch where she’d been sat, ready to pounce. “How the hell would you even know to be worried if you don’t know what’s going on? You don’t have any fucking idea what’s been happening.” A frustrated growl slipped past Nell’s lips as her foot stomped against the wood of the floor in anger. “I’m the one that doesn’t want you here? You’re the one that went away, Luce! How does that translate to me having the problem? Did you think I was just gonna be glowing with excitement when you came home after radio silence?”

“I told you it wasn’t a good reason! I’ll own that.” Luce shot back. The text’s that had appeared on her screen when she’d finally plugged her phone back in, when she’d finally seen the messages-- they’d done nothing to lessen the worry that had followed her the entire time she’d been in Boston. In fact, they’d only made them worse. She had no idea who the fuck Constance was or why she’d come after Nell, she’d watched as her sister’s texts became shorter and shorter as time passed. Gritting her teeth, Luce stared at her sister, watching as Nell’s foot pounded against the floor. “You jumped down my fucking throat the second I got here. You barely waited for me to even get inside the door. I don’t expect you to be happy with me being gone, but for fucks sake, did you think that shit like this is exactly why I left?” She said, her voice rising to a shout as anger began to wash over her in a familiar wave. “We all have shit going on in our lives, Nell! I get that! I really fucking do. But I needed to break before all of this-- with us, with this fucked up town-- broke me.” She said, shaking her head. “I won’t apologize for doing what I had to do to stay sane. But I am sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t handle this…” Like Bea would? Like their mother would have wanted her to? Or at the bare minimum, handled it well? But, she hadn’t even done that, had she? “That I didn’t handle things at all.”

“What was I supposed to do? Act like I wasn’t upset? Is there some allotted time limit I was meant to give you before I was allowed to be angry?” A flash of shock and momentary hurt came over Nell before she reflexively hardened her jaw and eyes as she jerked back, trying to make sense of what her sister had said. Her sister had left because of her? Was that what Luce was saying? They hadn’t even been fighting when Luce had gone off, and Nell couldn’t grasp whatever it was Luce was trying to say outside of now feeling like she was being held responsible for the fire witch’s need to depart. Her head shook in place of words, unsure where to begin again. “So you just decided to leave what was bothering you behind.” It wasn’t a question so much as a statement, Nell still digesting that she had been a part of the problem. “I’m not saying you don’t have shit! I’m just saying you don’t have to cut into people like your sisters to get that relief or whatever the hell you needed. Especially when you don’t even know what the hell was going on here.” Nell trembled ever so slightly, the high stakes back and forth and mention of breaking putting her back in the place she’d been no more than a week ago, on the brink of losing her magic with a slew of other problems. “You didn’t even tell us. We could have helped, but you didn’t even give us the chance. You know we would have. Are we really that fucking bad?”

“You could have given me five fucking minutes, Nell! And you know what? This shit is exactly what happens.” At Nell’s words, Luce let out a laugh, a sound meant to hurt. “You don’t get to get mad at me for leaving. You left first, Nell. Five years ago, you fucked off too!” She yelled. “Why would I have told you what’s going on in my life? We-- you, me, Bea?” Luce gestured to herself and then to her sister, “We don’t talk unless shit goes south. We don’t talk unless the world is ending or one of us is--” She cut herself off, the scar beneath her choker burning with her rage. “In trouble. And that’s how it’s always been! The only difference is our problems went from Bea’s shitty ex being a garbage fire and you getting into trouble with Mom to people dying, people getting cursed and blowing up buildings.” Shaking her head, Luce continued, “You both had your own shit to worry about. You always have. So why the fuck would I talk to you about what’s going on in my life?”

Gone was any clarity and the majority of Nell’s rationality at this point, her temper in full force as Luce yelled back. “When I fucked off I didn’t fucking ghost you! And I was eighteen so excuse me for hoping my older sister might be a little more mature than that!” Taki had re-entered the room after leaving to witness the yelling, sensing the rather tumultuous emotional state his witch was in. Or perhaps he’d simply heard it with the two sisters volumes reaching a fever pitch. “Maybe you’d talk to us because you’re the one who didn’t want any more secrets! And we all fucking agreed to it! But guess who’s the one not telling us anything? It’s you! Or- I don’t know-” she continued on in her heated but sardonic tone. “-maybe because I’m your sister!” Nell didn’t so much as pause for breath before carrying on. “Well guess what, Luce? My world nearly fucking ended! And you were in Boston, ignoring my texts!” She hadn’t meant to throw that into the fray, not wanting to use it at a time like this, but the words were gone before she could stop them. Nell’s chest heaved as she stood in the long pause after her exclamation, trying to quiet the anxiety that had come with worrying about losing her magic. It didn’t make sense. Why was she upset about it, when her magic was still here and swimming through her veins?

Her tone sombered in the wake of her largest outburst, though every muscle of her was still tensed. “We’re supposed to look out for each other,” Nell finally said. “Even if both our world’s are on fucking fire then we just figure both of them out together. I thought you’d have figured that out by now. And if you don’t think I’d still wanna help you even if my life is shit, even after seeing what we did for Bea then- then-” The witch tried to swallow the emotion clawing its way up her throat, hating how it got in the way of her words. “There’s nothing I can do if you don’t reach back when I’m reaching, Luce. And then there’s nothing you can do, either. Because you don’t just screw yourself by cutting yourself off- you screw me, too. But apparently it just doesn’t fucking matter. I hope you had a good time in Boston. If you wanna be left alone, then don’t let me get in the way,” Nell said before scooping up Taki from her feet, turning towards the front door she’d just come through with Luce.

As Nell yelled and shouted and threw word after word at her, Luce remained stubbornly still. She wasn’t going to back down, she wasn’t going to let Nell just walk over her, Luce had her own reasons for why she’d done things. She opened her mouth, ready to say that there was a difference between secrets and her needing to be alone. She was ready to say that there was a difference between keeping secrets and adjusting to the fact that, for the first time, it felt like her sisters needed her and the responsibility of that scared the shit out of her. They’d never needed her before things went sideways. But, then Nell said those words. My world nearly fucking ended. And the words made Luce’s stomach drop.

The tension faded from her shoulders, her body slumping slightly as Nell continued to yell at her. The words, they stung, they hurt. How could they not? But, she was stuck on that sentence. What had happened to Nell? What had happened to her in the time she’d been gone? How many texts had her sister written before deleting them, knowing that Luce wouldn’t be there for her. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. While Nell turned her back on her, scooping up Taki in her arms, Luce leaned against the hallway. She wanted to go after her sister, wanted to say something. Wanted to tell her she was sorry that she wasn’t there. But, sorry wouldn’t change the fact that she was gone. Sorry didn’t change that she had abandoned Nell and Bea both, when the coven had done the exact same thing to the three of them. God.

As the front door shut behind Nell, Luce made her way to the kitchen. She grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and filled them both with water. Taking a long drink from one, she stared at the kitchen. Bea had been here recently. She could tell by the way the kitchen was clean-- not from disuse, but because it had been maintained by her sister’s hands. She could smell the familiar citrus undertones of the homemade cleaner Bea used to wipe down the countertops. Swallowing, she rested her head against the cool surface of the counter top. “Fuck.” She murmured, setting her glass in the sink. Taking the other cup, she opened the front door. Nell was nowhere to be found, which shouldn’t have surprised her but it did. Luce set the glass of water on the porch and shut the door behind her. Too much had been said in anger, in pain. They needed time.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #the ties that bind #ch:luce

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