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rwby-redux · 3 years ago

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Amendment

Dust: Vortices

A reservoir of energy. A paradox of nature. A sight unparalleled.

For as long as people have integrated Dust into their societies, so too have they placed great significance upon Dust vortices (sg. vortex). Classified by researchers as rhizological biomes, these insular ecosystems form from dense, usually superterranean (aboveground) concentrations of Dust. Deposits of this nature are exceedingly rare. The collective effect that these Dust crystals exert on their immediate surroundings creates unique, self-contained communities with endemic biota and abiotic features. The disparity between the vortical and ambient climates results in abrupt ecotones (boundary lines) that delineate the vortex, and thus make identifying them relatively straightforward.

There is no understating the degree of utilitarian and cultural influence that Dust vortices have had on people over the generations. Some, like Lake Matsu, are the theological bedrock of the native religion; others, like the Auroral Plains of Solitas, made the difference between survival and death for the early settlers of Mantle. This value, however, has not exempted them from the consequences of overexploitation. Even in the postwar era, Dust manufacturing companies continue to lobby governments for mining concessions and laxer environmental regulations. The obvious need to strike a balance between conservation and harvesting has made vortices a divisive topic, and will likely remain that way for years to come.

Locations

Lake Matsu — [Dust Type: Gravity] In addition to being the largest lake on Remnant, Lake Matsu is home to the planet’s sole airborne archipelago. The levitating islands are covered in dense mats of foliage, such as broadleaf trees and trailing lianas. Many of the flora species rely upon wind-dispersal methods for propagation, in order to traverse the distance between volant landmasses. The sight of gliding agamid lizards, and cascading waterfalls whose foam dissipates into clouds of vapor, creates a stunning visual that sustains year-round tourism for the settlements of Skiron, Shion, Higanbana, and the Mistrali capital. Ecologically, the lake is a vital stopover for thousands of migratory bird species, as well as the spawning grounds for the commercially-important Matsu salmon. Spiritually, the lake—both the waters below and the islands above—represents the birthplace of Mistral’s two primary deities, Monahven and Silalük, who are honored by a shrine at the headwaters of the Lonmet River. Dust mining was historically confined to the peninsula known as the Rhoyn, which provided the elevation necessary for early Mistrali to access the islands above. With the invention of airships, however, mining operations soon expanded to the entirety of the vortex. Only when anthropogenic pollution began to decimate the ecosystem, and interfered with the cultural heritage of the lakeside cities, did the Mistrali government scale back mining operations. Today, only the islands above the Rhoyn can be legally excavated.

The Auroral Plains — [Dust Type: Fire] To this day, no one is sure how the prophet Siþleon knew of the Dust vortex at the heart of the pole. The only explanation given was that he received a vision of a place at world’s edge, “where the auroras end and the lights touch the earth.” Through uncertainty and peril, he led his followers north, until, at last, they arrived at the site of what would one day become the City of Mantle: a Dust vortex. According to eyewitness accounts, it was a sight like none other—an oasis of verdant green, sustained by the heat that radiated from the Fire Dust. Dozens of endemic species—the red-tailed skink, the nepenthe orchid, the tessellated phantomfly��were only able to call the arctic home because of the high temperatures created by the vortex. The availability of resources, along with access to abundant Dust, kickstarted Mantle’s technological revolution, and the Auroral Plains became the precursor to modern Atlas’ climate-control grid. Green was (and continues to be) a sacred color to the Mantic god-callers, given that its rarity was reflected in both the vortical foliage and the auroras above. (Green eyes were similarly adopted as the beauty standard for those born within the kingdom.) Unfortunately, centuries of overreliance exhausted much of the vortex’s Dust supply, and led to the endangerment and extinction of many native species. Today, only 15% of the original vortex remains intact, and is primarily concentrated around the shores of the Mirror and Glacier lakes.

Aboleth — [Dust Type: Glow] A topic of many stories and poems, which warn of the vortex’s deceptive beauty, and the dangers it conceals. Taken from the Old Mistrali-Mantic word for star, Aboleth is a segment of Suicide Valley whose cliffs and foothills are embedded with crystals of Glow Dust. The constant emission of light drove the evolution of numerous arthropods (and several vertebrates) toward bioluminescence as a form of mimesis. The vortex’s superimposition on a psychometric imprint makes Dust extraction a costly, dangerous, and rather pointless endeavor, due to the high number of Grimm. An exception was the town of Kuebiko, which—prior to its fall during the Great War—was renowned for a fossorial dog breed that was trained to enter the vortex unaccompanied, dig up crystals, and return them to its master. With the loss of the town, however, came the loss of that specialized breeding and training, which have been difficult to replicate since.

Windsong Valley — [Dust Type: Wind] North of the Senche River is the Kingdom of Vale’s only pseudo-arid ecosystem. Large Wind Dust nodes mimic the sub-aerial processes needed to form the slot canyons of the eponymous valley, giving rise to striated bands of sandstone. A low, persistent roar akin to turbulent water can be heard echoing throughout the smooth, flowing passageways, due to the omnipresent eddies of wind. The eroded canyon walls not only supply Avonford with revenue from ecotourism, but were the basis for the invention of nautical bellows used by the seafaring Sanorum. Unique to the area are bristlecone pines that form krummholz from constant weathering.

Tsahïk Forest — [Dust Type: Steam] In the language of the Ancient Animoigne, tsahïk (alternatively spelled tsahyk or tsahique) means mist, and it’s easy to see why the name stuck. The moisture-laded vapor released from the Steam Dust hinders the expansion of the Hraketet Desert through the formation of a loma (or mist oasis). In a region with virtually no rainfall, southeastern Anima’s pocket of lush vegetation can only exist because of the vortex. In addition to being integral to the culture of Sirocco, Tsahïk Forest is the sole place on Remnant where the medically-valuable rednine flower grows. The pharmaceutical compounds extracted from the rednine can be manufactured into drugs known as Aura suppressants, which artificially dampen a person’s Aura, and render it temporarily inactive. It’s been suspected (but not conclusively proven) that the concentration of Dust crystals within the vortex influenced the biochemistry of the rednine, and that other vortices might yield similar botanical drugs. For this reason (among others), Tsahïk Forest was declared a federally-protected site 30 years ago, after the SDC had its mining permit rescinded.

The Cauldron — [Dust Type: Fire] To the south of Vale’s Gossic cities, at the base of the Cirithel Mountains, lies an actively boiling lake. Unlike the geothermal springs of southern Solitas, the Cauldron’s scalding waters are derived from Fire Dust on the lakebed. At 215 °F, the lake is incapable of sustaining life, save for communities of thermophilic microorganisms. Even brief contact with the water can induce a second- or third-degree burn. For this reason, the perimeter of the shoreline is fenced off, and warnings are signposted throughout the area—a stark contrast to ages past, when before the formation of the Valin monarchy, convicted criminals were executed by submerging them in the lake. Residents of the Gossic cities still jokingly refer to the Cauldron by its other name: death’s jacuzzi.

Sunspire — [Dust Type: Electricity] Whereas other Dust vortices are exposed to Remnant’s sky, Sunspire is underground. Within the darkness of the caves, wide veins of Electricity Dust spiderweb across the walls, ceilings, and floors. Electricity frequently arcs between the nodes, and sparks are released whenever a crystal is disturbed. The lightshow, while impressive, is almost secondary to the effects that the Dust has on the geology of the cavern. Because of the constant charge imparted on the substrate, the surrounding minerals are magnetized. Not only do the electromagnetic currents interfere with technology, but they can repel and attract loose debris. The presence of iron-suffused rocks creates the right conditions to suspend them above the ground, when sufficiently charged.

Lake Corona — [Dust Type: Water] Unlike most endorheic bodies of water, Lake Corona is neither ephemeral nor within a desert. Its appearance, however, is rather dissonant with the subtropical forests of its surroundings, as the lake has tufa columns jutting from the shallows, and shorelines dominated by halophytic plants. The riparian zone of Lake Corona consists largely of tamarisk, chamisa, samphire, and orache, which are acclimated to the high-salinity, alkaline water. Due to a lack of outlets for sediment runoff, mineral buildup has rendered the lake inhospitable to fish and amphibians. Brine shrimp and saltworms, on the other hand, thrive under these conditions, and their populations sustain both migratory birds and residential species that venture in from the nearby forests. Traditionally, the pupae of the saltworm were harvested by the native Mistrali as a source of food, as was samphire. Since the end of the Great War, Mistral has been interested in mining the lake’s Water Dust as a potential export for trade with Vacuo. Attempts to efficiently mine it have been stymied somewhat by the Dust being underwater, and the lake itself being rather buoyant from all the salt.

Pontil Forest — [Dust Type: Glass] Despite what its name might imply, this vortex isn’t, strictly speaking, a forest. Its structure is that of gouged, vertically-aligned needles of glass that form serrated plateaus similar to karst. Because of the plateau’s transparent nature, light can penetrate deep into the fissures, and provide sunlight for vegetation that would otherwise be immersed in darkness. Much of the endemic wildlife is descended from common ancestors shared with the fauna and flora west of the neighboring Sandshield Mountains. Xerophytic scrub and succulents find whatever perches they can in pockets of soil, as do plants with silvery, felt-like leaves. Curiously, there is a homogeneity amongst the vertebrates of Pontil Forest, with geckos being disproportionately representative of the animals there. It’s speculated that a species of ancestral gecko wandered in from the adjacent chaparral, and, because of its adhesive capabilities, was primed to adaptively radiate into the 40 species that currently reside there. Pontil Forest is notoriously difficult to explore, with the plateaus above capable of slicing through flesh, and the fissures below creating a disorienting labyrinth of glass. Every year, at least ten deaths are attributed to injuries from laceration, falling, or dehydration.

#amendment #worldbuilding #dust #dust vortex #lake matsu #auroral plains #aboleth #windsong valley #tsahik forest #the cauldron #sunspire #lake corona #pontil forest #the sciences #writing #lore #i had to take a sick day from work so i decided to get some writing done #a lot of the vortices are based on irl places

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fruitpaw · 7 years ago

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Been feeling a little down lately so I decided to design some ocs to cheer up.^^

Nobody asked, but I’m gonna make a long description talking about them cuz I wanna:

First there are some of the most known leaders of the four “Valley Clans” such as Yellowstar of LionClan, Buzzardstar of LynxClan, Dewstar of TigerClan and Wolfstar of LeopardClan. The Valley Clans are distant relatives of the Lake Clans (ThunderClan and co) that live far away deep in the wild, away from humanity. This one was also bodytype practice for the Clans, although TigerClan cats should be bigger than LynxClan...oh well.

Second there’s a LeopardClan warrior named Sparkmist with her big son Smokekit. Nobody in the Clan knows who Smokekit’s father is and Sparkmist firmly holds on to her right as a queen to keep it a secret. However as Smokekit grows and becomes notably larger than other kits his age the Clan starts to gossip if he might be only half LeopardClan. Sparkmist is extremely protective of her kit and tries her best to protect him from bullying and rumors in the Clan.

Third are two TigerClan siblings, Dawnpaw and Sunpaw. Sunpaw’s both backlegs are badly twisted since birth and he can’t really be a warrior apprentice or do much else. Silently everyone - even Sunpaw - knows that he doesn’t really have a future in the Clan with his condition and that he’s likely not going to live to get his Warrior name. Despite that Dawnpaw is stubbornly determined to prove everyone wrong and is constantly trying to come up with ways to make her brother feel useful and even teaches him how to hunt minnows from the creek so he can contribute to his Clan even a little.

Fourth there’s a happy family from LeopardClan, Cinderlily and Nightblaze, proudly watching their small babies with pride. Nightblaze is especially excited since he haven’t gotten (and will never get) a chance to become a mentor due to his eye injury, so he’s really enthusiastic to teach his kits about life in the Clan and basic hunting tricks etc.

Fifth there’s TigerClan’s two Medicine Cats, Poppyriver and Hailstep. I might make a separate post for them someday because I love Medicine Cats, but the basic story is that they were apprenticed at the same time to the Clan’s current Medicine Cat, Birchstripe. Instead of choosing between the two kits, Birchstripe decided to embrace the fact that the Clan had two promising candidates and convinced her leader to let her mentor both of them. This decision however does not sit so well with the apprentices - especially Poppypaw - and they become very competitive over the position, constantly trying to outdo one another with their tasks. Hailstep eventually grows out of it as he matures, but Poppyriver continues to make snappy remarks at him and mocks his ways of doing his job.

Sixth there’s two LynxClan girls, Windsong and Littlewing, gossipping at the edge of the camp. Windsong has a bit of a prissy and spoiled attitude because her father is the leader of the Clan and she’s not afraid to bask in that glory and utilise it. Littlewing doesn’t might though because she has a massive crush on her pretty friend (who’s as oblivious to it as Fireheart was to everything in the Original Series).

And last we have a local LeopardClan Medicine Cat Duskcloud (Cinderlily and Nightblaze’s son) flirting with a tall sassy emo also known as Smokemask (Smokekit grown up). In the Valley Clans Medicine Cats having a romantic relationship is considered acceptable, though it’s still not all that common because most Medicine Cats just are not interested in that stuff in general (plus they are literally drowning in work so they have other things in their mind).

#warrior cats #warrior cats oc #oc #my art #valley clans #personal #smokemask #dawnpuddle #littlewing #nightblaze #cinderlily #windsong #duskcloud #sunpaw #hailstep #poppyriver

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wintersongstress · 4 years ago

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What Remains of a Butterfly

Summary: A glimpse into the after; of where you and Arthur find yourselves after the fall of the Van der Linde gang.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female Reader

Tags: fluff, mild mentions of smut

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: a gift for the lovely and kind-hearted @actuallyhansolo, though this piece was inspired by a prompt I received in my inbox ages ago. I hope you enjoy ♥ Also a big thank you to @the-halo-of-my-memory for being the best beta I could ask for :)

1905 — Gallatin, Montana;

“Try not to squeeze ‘er with your heels, else the horse’ll canter. You wanna grip her sides with your legs,” calls out Arthur from across the front pasture. A little neigh follows, carrying through the heavenly sigh of the breeze whistling down through the forests and into the valley you called home. Thistle and larkspur waver in its wake, flowing and flawing with streaks and splashes of color, and the hum of bumble bees fills the air. The only intrusion to the symphony of nature’s awakening is the occasional creak of dead wood as your seat on the front porch leans, forwards then backwards.

Overhead, a flock of warblers glide across the sky. Their song, a rising whistle, twittering and sweet, melds with the leathered yet honeyed tone of Arthur’s voice. A gentleness he reserved for one special person laces his rough timbre. Your eyes draw away from your knitting needles at the sound, and the sight that greets you warms your heart.

Your daughter Cora sits astride a chestnut pony, the straw hat covering her head askew. From beneath the floppy brim the early morning sunshine warms her cheeks, revealing the determined twist of her mouth as she heeds her father’s instruction. She hangs onto the reins and her hat, her neat braid bouncing as the horse trots in circles in the grass. Autumn’s hooves below her thud the earth softly, her cinnamon tail flicking and catching the gold of the sun all the while.

A long, satisfied breath fills your lungs. The windsong, calm as a seaside, lulls you into a deep state of bliss as you listen to the harmony it inspires in the surrounding land. Your porch chair rocks as you hum a thoughtful melody, stitching together the tight, blue row of a sock while taking in the splendors of the hour.

From a thousand places in the grass, little gems of dew wink back rainbows in the sunrays. Clouds drift seamlessly along the horizon like the verses of a poem, embellishing a sky flushed the color of a ripe peach. The sunlight has breached the distant snow-patched mountain peaks, its golden warmth lifting the mantle of fog settled deep in the green dark shadows of the valley. The wind rises forever and again, breathing life into the lungs of the cottonwood forest and stirring all that lay deep within wide awake. Woodpeckers flit amongst the treetops in their quest for insects, but all around far and near bird song prevails.

Comforted by the gift of your present, you tug free more yarn from the basket beside you. A hummingbird visits the columbines growing along the side of your homestead as you knit, gone in a flash of bronze. You pause at the boon of its appearance, but your eyes distractedly settle across the way.

Arthur leans on the paddock fence with his elbows propped up as he watches over Cora. A cup of coffee steams in his hand. He raises it and takes a sip, and you note with amusement that only three of his fingers fit through the handle. His fingernails are clean and square against the tin.

In all of your time together you never tired of the way the morning light poured over his tall frame. A heavenly gold illuminates the outlines of his arms and shoulders in his cotton white shirt. His sleeves, rolled humbly up to his elbows, display his tanned forearms, and a pair of dark suspenders divide his strong back handsomely. You never ceased to appreciate how lucky you were to have this view daily, and with each day, your love for Arthur and your family grew tenfold.

After a hearty breakfast of pancakes and eggs, Arthur took your daughter out to the horse pasture to learn how to ride—much at her own insistence and prodding. From a young age Cora shared his deep respect for horses and spent time with the ones you kept every day, grooming, feeding, and bonding with them. In the mornings you washed the dishes together, and afterwards, Cora bolted outside eager to start her lesson.

Today Arthur had lingered in the kitchen once the porch door slammed shut behind her and you were at once alone. The tick of the clock on the floral-papered wall was the only sound for a moment, until Arthur withdrew from the table.

You stood before the washing basin, drying a plate with a dish towel and adding it to a stack on the counter when he slipped his arms around you from behind and held you close. All of your quiet thoughts of the arriving day paused. Together, you breathed in. Your eyes closed. No words were needed between you to speak of the content that settled in your hearts then. He had only hummed a deep sound that passed through you, and began to gently sway you in a dance as you both basked warmly in the window. A jar of amber honey on the sill bloomed light, pouring gold like a waterfall. The birds sang—they always sang in this heavenly place—and you tilted your head back against his broad chest. You melted in his arms when his mouth pressed upon yours and it was a long, blind time before he pulled away.

When the kiss ended his forehead softened against your brow, him stealing a moment to remember you like this. He traced his thumb along the curve of your cheek, a sense of deep wonder speaking through his touch, and you sighed your assent.

In the beginning doubts plagued him. Years before when he knelt before you with a ring amidst a meadow of lupines, his hands held the slightest tremble until you took them into your own, guiding the pale stone down your finger and kissing away his uncertainties. He made promises to do right by you, and he kept every one of them.

In time, he came to believe in the second chance life had granted you both. It made it all the more fortuitous that your first child was a girl.

The embrace in the kitchen was one of beyond number. Arthur was a man of few words but many looks, so you understood his silent language of showing thankfulness. From the careful touch of his hands, moving as if to measure and memorize your importance to him, to the curve of his blooming half-smile, his expression voiced an ineffable gratitude and a disbelief that you shared this life together. His devotion never waned, but the encumbrance of the past did, the fetters that once hindered your steps toward freedom breaking when he built this homestead for you. They shattered forever when you first told him you were pregnant, standing on the porch in the twilight, his arms in their favorite place around you.

When the tingle of his kiss dissipated from your lips, your eyes had been slow to open at last.

“What was that one for?” You murmured in the space between you.

His soft, sage green gaze found yours, and the love in his eyes could not be misunderstood or undervalued. As always, your heart melted like the April snows at the warmth that look bloomed in your chest.

“Nothin’. Jus’…all you do is make me happy,” he confessed, following the gentle ways the angle of the sun fell upon your face.

“Oh you.”

With your heart strings plucked, you turned in the circle of his arms to embrace him. You nuzzled your nose along the endearing divot of his and let the softness of his smile melt against yours once more. The tannic scent of oak and pine and the musk of gun oil seeped into your senses, and you let yourself get carried away and intoxicated with his nearness and the rasp of his beard beneath your touch.

Cora’s prompting from outside tethered Arthur to his promise and he broke away from you with a sigh, although his warm hands slid down your hips longingly before departing.

“Real eager, that one is.”

“You better get to it,” you laughed and made to finish putting away the breakfast dishes. The other chores of the household could wait for an hour, you decided, as you made to rejoin them on the porch with your knitting.

Cats lazed about beside you presently, preening and stretching their legs before turning their watchful golden eyes to the high grasses in search of mice. One of them stalks up to Arthur at his post, weaving between his feet and brushing a white tail against his knee with affection. He reaches down and scratches its neck, the cat lifting itself on its feet to meet him halfway.

Doubtlessly he was smiling beneath his hat, as you were. You could only imagine what the sunlight must be doing to the color of his eyes as the sides crinkle with amusement.

Cora’s pony begins to straighten its gait and walks in a line, causing her to squeal with delight from her saddle.

“Daddy! I’m doing it! I’m doing it!”

“There you go! Keep holdin’ the reins, just like that. Lead ‘em to the left and right to steer.”

“Mama! Look!”

Your joy is instant.

“You’re doing wonderful!” You cheer. Cora giggles, her cheeks dimpling from her contagious glee. The bow laced at the end of her braid flutters like a butterfly’s wings as she rides through the pasture gracefully. The image of her with her gingham neckerchief around her throat, sitting proud in the saddle struck you with familiarity. She looked so natural, so at ease; so much like her father.

They mosey along at a steady pace and Arthur laughs under his breath. “Well, look at that. You’re a natural.”

He was always so patient and attentive with Cora, shushing her cries and soothing her when she was a baby, encouraging her every little step as she grew. Long ago you envisioned how great of a father he could be, despite his own uncertainty and the paucity of his self-worth. It took years for him to believe he deserved any of the happiness you found in each other, but he always wanted to protect it, never wanting to lose what mattered most to him.

Dutch abused the protective nature of Arthur’s heart, channeled it for his own gain and allocated it to his benefit. For years he strove to bring pride to his surrogate father, giving his all. But he knew. Arthur knew before it was too late when he was being used. You were the first to confess the hidden fondness you held for him, and it was the push he needed to start thinking for himself. Much as he tried to convince you of his own lowly opinion of himself, you persisted in your beliefs that he was a good man, deserving of happiness. Regardless of whether or not he found it with you.

Moments like this were the ones you wanted to capture and hold. Because reaching this place was worth every pain you endured, every mistake, and every misfortune if it meant it all led to this moment.

A breeze stirs the porch wind chimes. Their soft notes tinkle, joining the songbirds singing the joy of another sunrise. In the warm blanket of the wind the scent of alfalfa chases up your nose. You close your eyes against it, listening to the earth and the skies and the peals of Cora’s laughter. When it settles you open them again, finding Arthur’s gaze fastened to you from across the prairie. Caught, he smiles to himself bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck while his gaze dips to the slight swell of your belly and the pair of baby socks in your lap.

Warmth floods through you at the remembrance of that same smile earlier this morning, when the first blue light of day came and slipped through the gossamer curtains. Thoughts of Arthur’s mouth—soft and warm with sleep against your bare shoulder—tucks your lip behind your teeth and turns your gaze shy under his. But it lingered all the same.

The way he traced your skin with the lightest drag of his fingertips as you laid side by side in the early dawn light. How his touches led to languid kisses along your neck until he reached the spot that always made you sigh, your hands slipping along the lovely angles of his stubbled jaw to get lost in the soft, golden brown strands of his hair. How you let him lay you below him before he settled over you, the bedsheets catching on the small of his back. The roughness of his palms sliding along the delicate lace of your chemise, raising it all until it bunched around your shoulders. Parting your legs and lifting them around his hips, his calloused thumb drifting between—

“I think horsey is getting tired,” Cora announces, and Arthur snaps his attention back to her. You cross your legs and take a deep breath to compose yourself, returning your thoughts to the chaste exercise of knitting.

“Let’s give her a rest, then.”

Cora pulls up on the reins and Autumn yields.

Arthur dumps the remaining dregs of his coffee and leaves the cup on the fence, swinging his way through the paddock gate. In a few minutes he would be leaving for town, a star pinned to his vest and a promise to return before sundown. It made it all the more precious that he spent this time with her.

He lifts Cora off the saddle, his hands swallowing her tiny waist. She yelps with delight as he spins her around once, twice, exclaiming how proud he is and how fast she is growing up. Her braid and her skirts swing around her small frame until Arthur sets her down, squatting down to her level. With a mellow voice he speaks, encouraging her to thank the animal and explaining how important it is to show your horse you respect them. Cora nods. She reaches out and strokes Autumn’s neck, patting it alongside Arthur until she whickers and leans into the girl’s touch. With a grin, Arthur produces a crumbling oat cake from his satchel and Cora obediently holds out the treat. She laughs when a wet tongue tickles her hand.

They begin to lead the horse into the stable and Arthur squeezes her shoulders, telling her how well she did. Their words fade into the barn, indiscernible from where you sit, but your heart swells with contentment and a great rush of affection floods through you.

The gold band of your wedding ring rests coolly against your finger. You admire the smooth facets of the oval stone, the mounted sapphire twinkling in the light, thinking again of the first time you saw it and the pure happiness it brought as you trace its edges. Long ago and far away were the days of turmoil and gloom, for as dark as the past was is how bright your future together became. For you were safe at last, harbored in the arms of one another, thriving under the roof Arthur built where your family could grow. And it was all more than you could ever dream of.

A butterfly alights the roses growing along the trellis on the side of the house. Orange and black wings dance, flitting among unfolded dark pink petals and seeking the golden centers within. From one, to the next, to the next, the butterfly graces each bloom and delivers the promise of a sweeter future from its visit, leaving your world also a little better from its passage through it.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan/reader #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption imagine #arthur morgan imagine #arthur x reader #red dead redemption fic #rdr #rdr fic #arthur morgan fic #rdr drabble #arthur morgan #*my writing

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moonchildsaurora · 4 years ago

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Before the sun is rising up

✤ knight!Jongho x knight!reader ✤ genre: royal AU // angst, fluff (if you squint) ✤ t/w: sfw, non-descriptive battle fight, sad reacts only, rated PG ✤ count: 1.6k ✤ [ part 1 ] of Lacuna miniseries

a/n - o m f g it’s finally done. . .well overdue one shot for our precious maknae & the 1st of 8 parts for my new miniseries! Here I was thinking that it’ll be a more condensed piece, but yet again my mind decided to be loud. Perhaps I’ll be able to reign it in a bit more with the others (who am I kidding really tho). I hope I wrote well enough for Jongho’s character, even though it still feels slightly rushed. Thanks to @a-tiny-8iny for insightful convos which gave me the idea of considering the focus around platonic bonds too (which honestly gave me a plotline I was much happier with)! Also @hereisleo @monbae @s1ardusk @barsformars I remember yelling bout this series idea to you guys ages ago and here we are 💙

It was rare for a champion knight to be able to bask in serenity, especially on the eve of the final battle. The kingdoms of Rivaria and Nethilor have long been at war with one another, what once was a united empire now torn apart from betrayal and greed. There simply wasn’t room for two powers to rule, and so by the time the sun rises tomorrow, only one will be left standing triumphantly. How twisted fate must be, to have childhood friends who had endlessly supported one another since their gruelling training days when they were mere squires only to end up serving royalties of opposite sides.

The cooling night breeze played around with your hair as your legs dangled freely over the cliff’s edge where you sat waiting patiently for him. You leaned back on your arms, hands gently curling into the slightly damp but still soft grass and face tilted up towards the star-lit skies. The moon was out in full tonight, somehow knowing it may be the very last time it could greet you.

Your ears managed to pick up the familiar sound of steady footsteps from behind, without turning around and a grin already forming on your lips.

“And here I thought you’d best me in arriving first for once, Sir Choi” you said, trying to hold back a chuckle.

The sound of metal clinking against another indicated that he had let his sword, Shadowmist, rest against the tree next to your Windsong. Forged by the same swordsmith, intended to be wield together as a complementary pair.

“My deepest apologies, had to use the good ol’ distraction to sneak past the night guards of my own camp.”

“How rebellious of you.”

Jongho gave a playful shove to your shoulder as he sat down next to you, an immediate comforting warmth radiated off him. You noticed that he was in his casual tunic, the soft linen matching your own one. It’s almost a foreign sight to you considering how used you are seeing one another in the heavy metal of armour rather than something more care-free.

Just as you were about to ask how long he had before his troops would start noticing their own commander’s absence, a bundle was unceremoniously dropped on your lap.

“And pray tell, what is this?”

Your fingers fiddled with the thin leather cord that wrapped around the cloth, managing to unwrap the cover and your eyes crinkled with glee immediately upon seeing the contents inside.

“I made my squire swear not to tell the others that I was stealing extras for my supposed woodland friends,” a dramatic sigh escaped Jongho.

That caused you to burst out laughing, “You mean to say that the great leader of the Nethilorian army secretly befriends little creatures?”

“I always did say that your resemblance to that of a raccoon is uncanny.”

Now it was your turn to shove him, though you had to admit that his cover-up reasons were ridiculously endearing. “I wonder how your squire puts up with you at times, must be confusing for the poor lad.”

“What will it take for you to express your gratitude without mocking my pride?”

“Fortunately for you, I may be more inclined to accept certain incentives at times…” and picking up a Goldhorn biscuit, you held it towards Jongho, “Truce?”

Instead of taking the biscuit with his fingers he proceeded to bite down lightly, stealing it right out of your hold.

“You fiend!”

“Now we can have a truce.”

You purposely wiped your fingers on his tunic, earning a protest from him before tasting one of the sweet treats for yourself. These were the biscuits that you and Jongho used to eat regularly as children, the same honeyed taste bringing back fond memories. A fleeting image of your parents and home came to mind, the echoes of childish laughter and, “Watch where you’re running you two little rascals!”

“Remember that time you chased me with your mother’s rolling pin and it got us in so much trouble?”

You turned to look at Jongho, still to this day you haven’t quite figured out how he always seem to be on the same wavelength as you. Another biscuit was popped into your mouth before you replied, “Only because you not so accidentally spilled the rest of my potato stew.” That particular memory managed to coax a smile out of you, silently apologising to your parents for being the cause of their grey hairs.

A comfortable silence settled, the little fireflies were coming out to dance and the night breeze was still calm as before. From where the both of you sat on the cliff, the view of the valley was magnificent. It was a pleasant surprise that you discovered this hidden spot during the training camp and it became yours and Jongho’s meeting place ever since.

“I’m going to miss this.”

You could feel your heart clenching at his words, knowing full well what he meant. Setting the food down, you shuffled around a bit so you could retrieve something from your pocket. Dangling the two silver chains right in front of Jongho seem to break him out of whatever nostalgia trance he was in.

He blinked owlishly at the pendants, each holding an athesotile gem. You gave his one over and Jongho observed the iridescent glow it had under the moonlight.

“You sure know how to make a man feel special,” said Jongho as he teasingly held a hand over his heart .

“Had it been a confession token, sure. Unfortunately for you it’s only a lucky charm.”

“Trust you to still believe in that old tale,” he chuckled as he looped the pendant around his neck. This particular gem was sought after in the past for supposedly bringing great luck or so it has been old across generations by your elders. You had found these pendants as you were passing through the major town of Millbelle after a successful patrol.

“I’d trust in anything that will bring us hope at this point.”

The breeze picked up a little bit, rustling the trees around as if it became restless at your words. You really hadn’t mean to dampen the mood but reality was starting to sink heavily on your entire being. Anger and fear both seeped in, for being placed in such a predicament – you didn’t even get to bid your family a proper farewell with how fast war was declared. Your hands gripped the pendant tightly as you forced the choked sobs back down, though the corners of your eyes had tears already gathering.

“I’m terrified Jongho. I don’t want either of us to –“

“Hey now, are you forgetting something?” Even if he holds his gaze so strongly, you could still feel the slight trembles in his hands that interlocked with yours as he spoke.

“What do you mean?”

“You remember when I said I’ll be with you till the end?” His thumb caught a stray tear and wiped it gently from your face, “I intend to follow that through.”

A million and one thoughts ran through your head as you looked at him, endlessly thanking the gods above for blessing you with Choi Jongho. Though death lingered over yourselves, knowing that you wouldn’t have to face it alone eased your soul that little bit more.

With a wet laugh you leaned into his touch, “I won’t hold back if you don’t either.”

Jongho stood up from his previous seating spot, pulling you up with him. You watched as he made his way over to the swords and retrieved them both, quickly using the sleeves of your tunic to dry your eyes before Jongho held Windsong out towards you for the taking.

Tilting your head to the side with a silent question that you only got an answer to after Jongho unsheathed Shadowmist. He directed the blade to be pointing at you, no hostility behind the action, just a determined glint in his dark eyes and a solemn nod of his head.

With the moon as a witness, a final oath was made by the crossing of swords.

The thundering of hooves and roars of the cavalries were enough to shake the land, as the Rivarians fearlessly gave their war cry. The grip on your mount’s reins was painfully tight as you stood observing the enemy ranks across the battle field. Dawn was upon you, the rosy hues of red and orange matched the accents on your silver suit of armour. It was a harsh contrast to the striking black and gold that the Nethilorian army wore.

Another war horn sounded, this time from the other side and your jaw clenched with tension as you watched Jongho lead the charge down the hill.

“Leave the Commander to me, cover the flanks and keep your formations in order,” your voice resonated with finality as you addressed your elite guards.

“Archers! At the ready!”

A wave of a flag with a griffin, your kingdom’s emblem, embroidered on it signalled a rain of arrows to be let loose. You couldn’t tell how long you held your breath for as you watch the arrows land around Jongho’s charging form, his soldiers bringing up their sturdy shields as protection. Relief ran through you as the arrows took out the slower foot soldiers around him instead.

Shadowmist was raised high and proud, equally deafening war cries echoed in multitude getting closer and closer to your side. You drew out Windsong and walked your mount towards the front lines.

“We ride…for honour,” the visor of your helmet was flipped down, “…for the safety of our people….for our lives.” You kicked your mount into a gallop with your riders following your lead, raising their spears and swords.

“FOR RIVARIA!”

Ironically everything seemed to slow down as you faced head on towards Jongho. Even the noise have become muffled, all you could focus on was your breathing within the helmet. Your eyes never wavered from his figure and when his mount stormed faster ahead of the rest, you matched his change in pace as well.

“To thee I swear this oath, only by your blade will…”

As the first ray of light pierced over the horizon, the waking sun was greeted with the resounding clash of two blades; and the mourning for two loyal hearts.

“…we meet once again at the elysian fields, my dearest friend.”

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juniperwindsong · 5 years ago

Text

Dragonology 101 (5/10)

Summary:

A shiver runs through Felix that has nothing to do with the cold. Something does not feel right about the way the dragon is staring at them. Its eyes are more menacing, more calculating than he has ever seen before...and he realises all in an instant the very real danger they're in.

November arrives unreasonably cold and gloomy, even for Scotland, and presents a growing problem with Felix and Juniper's dragon. Quite literally. Sparky is now almost 12 feet in length, and is becoming obviously restless with his small enclosure. Felix makes note of the way the dragon paces the edges of the ravine, craning his neck over the top. Occasionally, he makes an attempt to claw at the earthen walls. And although the dirt is always too soft to support the dragon's weight, crumbling away before he can get a foothold, Felix begins to be seriously concerned.

"He needs exercise," Juniper says as they walk back to the castle in the wee hours of the morning. With no sun to provide even an illusion of warmth, the air is frigid and both are huddled deep inside their cloaks.

"He needs more space," argues Felix, trying not to shiver too visibly. "He can't stay there for much longer."

"Well, where would you like to put him, then, the Quidditch pitch?" asks Juniper shortly, though whether it's the temperature or the situation grating at her nerves Felix can't say.

"Of course not," he snaps back, pushing his scarf down past his mouth to speak more freely. "I mean, it's time we think about finding a more permanent home for him. Get him back up to the mountains somehow. We're no closer to fixing his wing than we were two months ago, and he's only going to get bigger. If we wait too long, he'll be climbing out of there on his own and then he's bound to be spotted."

Juniper considers this as they exit the forest. Once they leave the relative protection provided by the trees, however, the two Slytherins are hit by the full force of the bitter wind, and are forced to duck their heads and make a undignified sprint for the castle. Further conversation is impossible until they reach the warmth and safety of their common room.

"You know, we don't know that he can't fly," remarks Juniper as she unwinds her scarf from around her neck and stuffs it into her pocket.

"He wouldn't still be here if he could,” Felix replies, folding his own scarf neatly and draping it over his arm.

"Not necessarily. He doesn't have any real space to manoeuvre in that ditch thing. It could be he just doesn't have enough room to take off,” Juniper pulls out her silver pocket watch to check the time. "Plus, the tree canopy is pretty thick there, there's only a few little gaps. He might not even know he can fly out that way. I never did find out how he got in there."

Felix mulls this over as his eyes sweep automatically across the common room, checking for any evidence of wrongdoing that may have occurred in his absence.

"I suppose that's a possibility," he concedes dubiously. "But how are we going to get him out of there to test him? And where can we take him where he won't be seen?"

"I have an idea about the second one," says Juniper thoughtfully, "But not the first. How do you get a dragon out a ditch?"

How do you get a dragon out of a ditch?

It sounds like the set-up to a joke, Felix thinks wryly, but the question consumes him over the next two days.

Levitate it? That's a simple enough spell, and they're both excellent at Charms. There's a good chance the two of them together could lift the dragon out. Although, Felix admits to himself, levitating a heavy object is not the same as levitating a heavy, struggling, magic-resistant dragon. And even if they managed it, he seriously doubts the dragon will appreciate their efforts. Felix supposes they could put it to sleep first, or immobilise it, but those spells are rather more difficult. And if they don't succeed on the first try...

At best, they'll likely lose whatever small trust they've earned with the dragon, and at worst, it could attack. Creatures don't generally take kindly to magic being used on them, and it's not as if the two students can explain what they're trying to do.

Felix wishes he could pick Juniper's brain about the issue. She's been known to have the occasional clever idea. But they rarely have the opportunity to speak to each other outside of their evening excursions. If there is anyone at Hogwarts with less free time than Felix, it's Juniper Windsong. Between her commitments to her burgeoning friend group and the Slytherin Quidditch team, the new cursed vault phenomena that he's sure she's still secretly investigating, and the school work he can only assume she's keeping up with, Juniper has every minute of her day accounted for. The only times he sees her in the common room anymore are occasional evening revision sessions with Rowan, and Felix isn't keen to discuss their illicit trips to the forest in front of anyone else.

It's for this reason that the first time the two of them can really discuss their dragon problem in depth is as they walk toward it together the next evening.

"What about using reducio on him? Shrink him down?" suggests Juniper through her many layers. "Then we can reverse it with engorgio when we're somewhere else."

Their footsteps crunch loudly as they step through the now frost-tinged grass and brambles carpeting the forest floor.

"It's incredibly risky using the shrinking charm on living things, you know that," chides Felix.

"I do know, but I also know it's possible. I've done it on myself loads of times," Juniper boasts.

Felix furrows his brow. "That does not make it any less risky." he counters, disapproval in his voice. "Anyway, you're a good deal smaller and lighter than a dragon. I don't know that we'd be able to pull it off just the two of us.

"And even if we did," he continues, raising his voice over Juniper's fledgling argument, "I don't think he'll appreciate being shrunk and resized. It could provoke him to attack."

"Hmm," Juniper hums, sounding slightly annoyed. She pushes a thin, whipping branch to the side with a little too much force and it snaps. "I suppose you're probably right. What's your better idea, then?"

"I think we'll have more luck using magic on the surrounding terrain than the dragon itself,” predicts Felix sagely.

"What, blast a hole in one of the walls or something?"

Felix smirks, a little smug. Powerful for her age Juniper may be, but her magic is still lacking in finesse. "Or something."

While Juniper tosses rabbits up to Sparky as quickly as she can (the dragon eats them in one gulp now and is always impatient for more), Felix walks to the opposite side of the valley and inspects the wall near the small pool of water. Like all the surrounding walls, it's formed of dirt and earth with roots and small stones stuck in at random. But the wall nearest the water has a stickier, clay-like texture that Felix thinks might be better suited to the plan he has in mind. He runs his gloved hand along it, searching for the firmest area.

Felix hears the dragon's heavy footfalls behind him and turns to see Juniper approaching, the sack over her shoulder and the dragon at her heels. He makes eye contact with it, wondering if the burning, inscrutable look in its eyes might be interpreted as curiosity. They're more intelligent than anyone gives them credit for, thinks Felix fondly.

"So," Juniper says, stamping her feet a bit with cold, free hand deep in the pocket of her trousers, "What's the plan?"

Felix turns back to the earth in front of him. "Just watch," he says and pulls out his wand.

"Defodio," Felix pronounces clearly, directing his wand in a horizontal line. A deep gouge appears in the wall, the displaced earth falling to the ground in a small shower. Juniper and the dragon both take a step back. Felix repeats his spell again and again over the course of several minutes, changing the direction of his wand, until finally, solid earth steps about a metre wide form a rough but sizable staircase leading out of the valley.

"And there you are," proclaims Felix, more than a little proud of himself.

"Wow!" Juniper breathes out. She grins broadly at Felix, obviously impressed. "Very cool!"

Juniper moves closer to inspect the staircase while Felix tries hard to arrange his features into a more modest expression. He's unduly pleased with her praise.

"Will they hold Sparky up, do you reckon?" she asks.

"One way to find out," Felix replies, reaching out to take the bag from her shoulder. "You go first, you're the lightest."

Juniper shoots a face at Felix as if this were an offensive statement, although he can't see how, but she makes no comment as she begins to climb carefully. The steps being spaced for a creature with a much longer stride, Juniper is forced to use her hands as well. When she reaches the top, Felix walks forward to examine the steps. There's no visible wear to them, only the light imprint of her shoes.

"They look alright," Felix declares, turning slightly to face the dragon. Sparky's eyes are fixed hungrily on the bag slung carelessly across his shoulder. "I guess the real trick will be getting him to actually climb them."

"Hand up the sack," Juniper calls down. Careful not to turn his back to the dragon, Felix awkwardly slings the bag up toward Juniper's waiting fingers.

"Stand out of his way,” she instructs Felix. He takes a few steps back and to the side so Sparky has a clear view of the stairs and the girl.

"Here, Sparky!"

Juniper throws a rabbit underhand toward where Sparky is standing. The dragon snatches it out of the air, but makes no movement forward. She aims her next throw at the bottom of the stairs, too far for the dragon to catch without moving. Sparky steps forward to pick up the rabbit, and Juniper takes a few steps back from the edge of the ravine.

"Here, boy!" Juniper calls again, this time tossing the rabbit onto the topmost step. Sparky places a foreleg on the bottom of the rough staircase and cranes his neck up to grab the treat.

Felix waits with bated breath, willing the step to hold. It does.

"C'mon, Sparky," encourages Juniper, but the dragon needs no more incentive. Recognizing an escape route, Sparky makes a hasty scramble up the wide steps. His claws leave deep gouges in the earth but it holds, and the dragon reaches the top and thrusts himself over the ledge in a matter of seconds.

"Yes!" Felix exclaims under his breath, flushed with his success.

Sparky lets out an exultant, musical roar like a trumpet's reveille, and Felix realises belatedly that Juniper is now alone facing a dragon with a full range of movement.

"Windsong!" he cries as he rushes toward the steps, taking them as fast as he can.

When Felix reaches the top, however, he finds Juniper is already moving off through the forest, tossing rabbits at a merrily trotting Sparky.

"Follow me! I know a place," she says brightly, as if they were guiding nothing more dangerous than a lost mooncalf.

Shaking his head, Felix brings up the rear of their strange caravan as they make their way through the forest in the opposite direction of the castle. As he walks, Felix notices the trees in this part of the forest seem less densely clumped, and some are bent and broken at strange angles, as though something strong had forced a path through them. He wonders if this is the way the dragon took into the forest in the first place.

After a brief walk, the tree line comes to an abrupt end at the top of a small, rolling hill. Their little train stutters to a halt, and Juniper moves aside so Sparky can take in the landscape. As Felix walks around the dragon to stand beside Juniper, he sees what look like sloping plains covered in long grass, waving eerily in the dark.

"We're here!" says Juniper proudly. "These grasslands go on for miles. Sparky will have plenty of space to-"

Juniper breaks off, covering her ears, as the dragon lets out a musical roar of obvious approval right next to her. With no further warning, Sparky breaks into a camper down the hill and across the dark ground, wings outstretched and tail dancing behind him. The force of his movement throws Juniper off balance, and Felix has to put out a hand to steady her elbow so she doesn't fall. She seems not to notice, all her attention on the dragon's diminishing outline.

"Sparky!" Juniper cries, running forward clumsily as the bag bounces on her back.

Felix has no choice but to follow her. Flat-out running is not an action he's much practiced in and he descends the hill with more caution than Juniper. He doesn't catch her up until she stops, a few minutes later, bent over double and breath coming in gasps. Energy, she may have in spades, but the tiny thirteen year old is simply not capable of matching a dragon's speed.

"What do we do?" Juniper asks Felix between gasps. He hears something unfamiliar in her voice and thinks it might be panic.

Felix stares out into the dark, empty plain ahead of them where the figure of the dragon grows rapidly smaller and smaller. There's a lump in his throat as he answers.

"We don't do anything. It's...he's free now. That was the whole point, wasn't it?"

Felix does his best to keep his voice steady and confident, revealing nothing of the sick writhing in his stomach. He has completely failed to consider how it would feel for something that had come to mean so much to him in the last two months to be suddenly gone from his life.

"But we don't know if he can fly yet! He'll never survive if he can't fly." Her voice rising in pitch and volume. "Someone will see him! The ministry will get called in! We can't just let him run away!" Juniper's tone reveals all the brokenness Felix feels but cannot show.

"We can't exactly stop him." Felix wants to comfort her, wants to comfort himself, but he doesn't have the first idea how. "And... we don't know that he can't fly, like you said."

Felix is saved from trying to think up more platitudes by a thunderous noise and the reappearance of the brilliantly green dragon in the distance ahead of them.

Sparky is running flat out, wings spread wide as if poised for flight. Every few steps, the dragon gives a sort of wild hop, throwing himself forward and pulling his legs in, powerful wings beating rhythmically at his sides. But while wind catches underneath the right wing, the left wing falters, the torn wing panels fluttering uselessly. Sparky lands on his face and forelegs, skidding forward with a roar of frustration. Momentum keeps him moving, and he runs forward another few steps before trying the comical manoeuvre again.

Juniper and Felix watch wordlessly for several minutes as the dragon tries desperately to take flight. After one particularly fierce jump, Sparky slams hard into the ground and lets out a screech of pain and frustration like a strangled clarinet.

Juniper puts her hand across her mouth and turns her head away. Felix understands. It's a painful sight, watching such a magnificent creature reduced to this pathetic, undignified scramble. His heart aches as Sparky cries out again, obvious despair in the deep musical roar.

"I guess... that answers that question," Juniper whispers.

They wait there in the cold grass for what feels like hours, unsure of what to do or how to help.

Eventually, Sparky wears himself out. He throws himself to the ground in a heap, releasing one last bellow, like a fiery sob. The dragon rests in the grass a short distance away for several minutes before Juniper finds her feet. She drags the sack up from where she's let it slump to the ground, and begins to walk forward.

"Sparky," calls Juniper softly, reaching into the bag for a rabbit.

The dragon raises its head, his eyes weary, but still alight with that ferocious yellow fire.

"Windsong, wait!" Felix hisses, catching her up and grabbing her arm to stop her getting any closer. "He may not be in the best mood right now."

"Well, we can't just leave him there, we have to get him back," says Juniper, ever pragmatic, and wrenches her arm free. She continues to step forward, perhaps with a shade more caution, keeping her eyes on the panting dragon.

"And how do you propose we do that?" Felix whispers from behind her. He isn't sure why, but the nerves he felt during his first few visits with the dragon have returned, and he feels the need to keep his voice low.

"The same way we got him here," Juniper replies testily. She's close enough to make eye contact with Sparky, and she tosses a rabbit toward him.

The dragon lets the rabbit fall to the ground, his reptilian eyes never leaving Juniper's. For several tense seconds, they stare at each other. Then, with almost sarcastic slowness, Sparky lowers his head to the small corpse and snaps it up, swallowing it whole and maintaining eye contact all the while.

Juniper and Felix stand awkwardly in front of the dragon, unsure how to interpret this little display.

"C'mon, Sparky," Juniper cajoles,"Time to go home." She takes a few steps back and tosses another rabbit about a metre in front of the dragon's face.

Sparky does not move. His eyes, still fixed on Juniper, are venomous and resentful.

"You can do it, Sparky,” she says coaxingly. She walks backward, tossing a third rabbit, and then a fourth, creating a trail for the dragon to follow.

With exaggerated slowness, the dragon clambers to his feet and takes deliberate steps toward Juniper, scooping up the rabbits as he walks.

"See?" Juniper says in relief to Felix, who is keeping pace beside her, "He's just tired."

But a shiver runs through Felix that has nothing to do with the cold. Something does not feel right about the way the dragon is staring at them. Its eyes are more menacing, more calculating than he has ever seen before. He suddenly remembers everything he's ever read about how dragons cannot be domesticated, how they feel no true affection for humans.

They're more intelligent than anyone give them credit for, Felix thinks again, only this time it's with dread. While he had no way to escape or hunt, Sparky had permitted their presence. But now that he's free, Felix knows the dragon regards them as threats. And he realises all in an instant the very real danger they're in.

Felix draws his wand surreptitiously.

"Windsong," he whispers as quietly as he can, but the dragon turns its head a fraction to stare him in the eye. Felix gulps unconsciously. When he continues, he keeps his voice even and low, "I want you to draw your wand, very slowly. No sudden movements."

Juniper glances at him, confused. She does not seem to have picked up at all on the dragon's change of attitude. "Why?" she asks softly.

They're approaching the edge of the forest now. The small hill, the only thing between them and the cover of the trees, is just a few steps behind.

"I don't think he's going to come with us," mutters Felix.

As he speaks, Sparky looks up and notices the looming forest as well. Fast as lightning, the dragon drops his head between his front legs and lets out a ferocious roar that roots them to the spot.

"I think you might be right," Juniper whispers, her voice hoarse.

Felix watches the dragon stamp out a challenge in front of them, trying to think through his fear.

"When I say, we make a run for the trees,” murmurs Felix, keeping his voice as calm as he can. "Make for the denser areas where it can't get through."

"But we have to get him back," Juniper insists, and her doggedness in the face of their mortal danger causes Felix's nerves to snap.

"Windsong!" he barks, taking his eyes from the dragon to glare at her, and Sparky lunges.

There's a bright green blur on the edge of Felix's vision. His body knows what's happening before his brain has time to process. Felix grabs Juniper's arm and yanks her behind him as he runs forward and to the side of the pouncing dragon, skirting it by a hair.

Sparky skids to a halt, trying to change direction quickly, and Felix uses that split second to push Juniper ahead of him up the hill.

"Run!" he commands, glancing behind to determine Sparky's location.

The dragon is already crouched for a second spring, and Felix knows they won't make the top of the hill in time to avoid it. Wand drawn, he aims for the dragon's eyes and yells out the conjunctivitis curse.

Sparky is in the air as the spell hits him square in the face, and his shriek of pain is a cacophony of discordant notes. The dragon falls forward, shy of the two students by a few blades of grass.

Sparky continues to scream, scraping his face across the cold, soft ground in an attempt to relieve the pain in its eyes, but Felix does not stop to watch further. He takes the hill in a few rapid strides and grabs Juniper's arm again as she stands frozen, watching the dragon writhing below. He manages to pull her forward a few steps, almost to the treeline, but Juniper struggles against his grip.

"We- can't- leave- him- here!" She emphasizes each word firmly, her voice loud but surprisingly calm. It infuriates him.

"Windsong!" Felix snarls at her, tightening his grip on her arm until he's sure it's painful. "That creature is not your pet, it's a dragon! It's dangerous and it does not care about you, and it's going to kill us-"

"Exactly!" Juniper interjects, trying desperately to prise his fingers from her. "We can't leave a dangerous, angry dragon loose on school grounds!" She speaks so rapidly he can barely understand her. "Even if by some miracle it doesn't hurt anyone, there's no way it isn't discovered now. And then we're sure to be expelled!"

Below them, they can hear the dragon stamping and roaring, still attempting to clear its vision.

"No one has to know it was us," argues Felix impatiently. "We run back to the castle. We never speak of this again!"

"Felix," Juniper says his name urgently. She ceases her struggling and, instead, reaches out to grab his other hand, squeezing gently, willing him to listen to her.

Felix's whole body stills, and the sounds of the dragon seem strangely faraway.

"We did this! If he hurts someone, Hagrid or Kettleburn or a student, or anyone else who tries to stop him, it'll be our fault. We have to stop him somehow. He's our responsibility!"

Below them, the dragon's screams turn from pain to rage. They can hear its claws scrape the earth of the hill as it attempts to climb blindly toward where they're standing. The renewed sense of danger breaks the spell Juniper's voice has created.

"You're mad,” Felix blurts out. "Completely mad."

He wrenches his hands out of hers.

"You want to stay here and be killed? Be my guest." Felix turns his back firmly on Juniper and the dragon and sprints into the dark trees.

"Felix!" He hears Juniper yell angrily after him, but he ignores her.

Felix takes a few steps into the forest, searching for the thickest clump of foliage he can find. He throws himself behind a tangle of willowy trees all intertwined and growing on top of each other, and sinks to the ground. Felix listens hard for the noise of the dragon, or Juniper, behind him, but the beating of his own heart in his ears makes everything around him sound muffled. He takes a deep breath, and then another, waiting for the panic to subside.

She'll come to her senses, he assures himself. She's not that stupid, she knows she can't battle a dragon on her own. Any second she'll come tearing through the trees.

Sparky's roars sound from close by, but not, Felix thinks, in the forest yet. The ground beneath him shakes very slightly with the dragon's furious, lumbering steps.

It can't see her, he tells himself. She'll get away.

But then Felix hears Juniper's voice, yelling "Flipendo!" and he groans aloud. Did she really just try to trip it? he thinks with a cringe.

There's another roar from the dragon and more stomping. Then a loud crack close by, and an ominous creaking. Felix leaps out from his hiding place, wand raised. A tree at the edge of the forest is swaying precariously, the dragon's powerful tail whipping away from it as it stalks back around.

Felix can't see Juniper, but he hears another cry of "Depulso!" and sees the dragon stumble back very slightly, as though pushed by a rough wind. But the spell is not powerful enough to actually blast Sparky off his feet. Instead, the dragon roars with fury and charges in the direction of Juniper's voice.

Felix can't believe what he's about to do. There are voices in his head screaming at him, but he pushes them away and focuses on the task at hand, the way he does best. He picks his spell decisively, and runs forward faster than he knew he could, aiming for the dragon's feet.

"Immobolus!" Felix shouts, putting all the power he can muster behind his jinx, all the force of will he has and some he was previously unaware of.

The dragon's clawed feet freeze up just as it takes a step, causing it to fall spectacularly to the ground and roll heavily down the hill, its tail whipping wildly behind it. The tail connects with something as it thrashes; there's a yelp, and a shadowy silhouette flies through the air much too quickly and hits the ground near the trees.

For one heart-stopping moment, Felix sees only a too-still body and forgets how to think, how to breathe... then he hears her groan. Felix exhales so forcefully he can feel pieces of his hair flutter where they've fallen against his face. He staggers over to Juniper as props herself into a sitting position.

"Are you alright?" Felix asks, his voice raw. He half bends down beside her, awkwardly, unsure how to help.

"Of course," Juniper says with obvious pain, clutching her side as she gets heavily to her feet. She's panting hard, covered in scratches, scrapes, and dirt. But when she turns her face to his, she's beaming. "I knew you wouldn't really leave."

It's a praise, not a taunt, but Felix is too focused to feel proud at the moment.

"We're not done yet. That jinx will wear off in a minute." He peers down the small hill to where the dragon lays winded, tiny notes of angry music erupting from it like someone striking a xylophone. "Or less."

"What can we do?" asks Juniper, reaching down to pick up her wand with a small grunt of effort, other hand still holding her side, "We'll do more damage if we cast together."

"Probably, but you don't know any spells powerful enough to incapacitate a dragon."

As they speak, Sparky starts to clamber to his feet clumsily, the last vestiges of the jinx still tugging at its limbs.

"Then let's try my original plan," Juniper says, her words nearly unintelligible under the dragon's renewed roars of frustration.

"What?" Felix asks, confused.

"Shrink it!"

Sparky shuffles around to face the direction of their voices, bloodshot eyes searching for them blearily.

Felix shakes his head slowly, "That's -"

"You have one second to think of a better idea."

He can't.

The dragon finally focuses on the two students and it shrieks its triumph and fury.

"On three then," Felix says raising his wand.

"On three," agrees Juniper raising her own, her face set grimly.

"One."

They chant together as the dragon takes a stumbling step forward.

"Two."

They take aim at the dragon's center mass.

"Three."

Sparky crouches, ready to spring, as Felix and Juniper cry out as one:

"Reducio!"

Chapter 6 | Masterpost

#felix rosier #felix rosier x mc #felix rosier x juniper windsong #felix rosier x jacob’s sibling #felix rosier fanfiction #hphm fanfiction #hogwarts mystery fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery mc #hphm mc #hphm #juniper windsong #jacob’s sibling #mc

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flywiththewindclan · 5 years ago

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Flight Rising in 50 days - D1

What’s your Flight Rising username and official clan’s name (if not the same)?

My FR name is KnightYumi (Hi!) and my clan is the Clan of Windsong Valley! :D

(I’ve started this challenge - maybe around 2016 (?), but I’ve never finished it, so now I give another try x) ).

#fr #flight rising #flight rising in 50 days again

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monstersskybird · 2 years ago

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Skyrim xce se

The most common causes of this issue are: Oh, and they use a separate body replacer to whatever you've got installed so they WILL be naked under their clothes, so to speak.Your IP address has been temporarily blocked due to a large number of HTTP requests. I think they're modular, too, so you can pick which you want. I don't use Bijin much myself as the characters are too "supermodel" for my tastes, but they're very nicely done. There's not much of that type for the chaps, Males of Skyrim's about the only one I can think of. If you just want a number of specific female NPCs to look really really glam and lovely, then check out the Bijin set of mods, has replacers for various followers and potential wives, and I think possibly some others. RaceMenu is also GREAT for actual character creation, and it's a must if you want to use mods that add lots of new hairs to avoid CTDs when choosing a hairstyle.

esp which includes character presets and NPC edits (you'd need to check if this is compatible with the unofficial skyrim patch and other mods because generally if two mods edit the same NPC only one's changes will actually take effect.) esp/.bsa format which I know I said was not ideal, but if you've got a package that covers the whole lot it's less problematic. over the top for my tastes, but KS in particular has such a huge number of styles that there's bound to be something for just about anyone.Īlternatively, if this sounds like a huge amount of faff, you could check out Windsong Character Overhaul which is a package that basically does pretty much everything - it is in. Some of the styles in both mods are a bit. There are also separate mods for each of these which let you put wigs of a limited number of styles from the relevant mod on NPCs (some will only work for followers as you have to give them a wig in their inventory, The Hairstyler works by casting a 'spell' and then picking the wig to give them, so it should work on any NPC. KS Hairdos and/or Apachii SkyHair for your character to have new looks. Superior Lore-Friendly Hair for the, er, hair - no wild new hairstyles, just a retexture of the vanilla ones. Get the performance version, it still looks incredibly good and will have basically no impact on your performance vs vanilla IME. I think there are other male textures out there but I haven't actually looked because I like this one so much. Skysight Skins for male human and elf characters. This is a decent comparison of various options although I disagree with some of their rankings: Coverwomen is great if you want everyone in glittery eyeshadow and lipgloss. Better Females by Bella is popular although I don't really understand why, to me it looks very uncanny valley. SG Textures Renewal and Real Girls are both very nice but IMO a little too airbrushed/supermodel, however this is really a personal preference. Mature Skins (vanilla version - if you end up choosing a body replacer then obviously you'll need the appropriate version) for female human and elf characters - IMO this is the most realistic and human-looking, although it does put some small moles/freckles in identical spots on everyone which is.distracting. XCE and/or Total Character Makeover as a base - I have TCM on top of XCE, but either by itself will be pretty good. My personal preference is (in order of installation, first to last, if using NMM, or in order of left pane priority, top to bottom, if using MO): So, your options are mostly on the Nexus (I think there may be some others on certain other sites but the Nexus is where most of the popular ones are.) The only one I know of that's here is XCE, it's a very good base (smooths out some of the roughest edges, so to speak) but you'd generally want skin textures and possibly a body mod as well as XCE, plus something to sort out the hair. esp file (and then the actual textures go in a. Also, texture/mesh replacers are better handled via loose files, preferably with a good mod manager (for easier uninstalling) which is not something that works on the Workshop, as far as I understand it, the Workshop HAS to have everything with either a. Workshop doesn't have much in the way of character enhancing mods, because a/ they're often too big for the old file size limit, b/ they often either include nudity or have the potential for nudity, c/ the mod author for many valid reasons may not want to upload them to the Workshop (for example, most such mods have multiple options - for example most skin retextures have different options for different body mods/the vanilla body - and the only way to offer multiple options on the Workshop is to have multiple different mod pages, whereas on Nexus or other sites you can create a FOMOD installer, and people can pick from a menu of options).

#Skyrim xce se

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fashioneditswebsite · 2 years ago

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Where to go for National Wellness Month in August and beyond

August is National Wellness Month, and while stress can be unavoidable daily, there are many ways to help manage it. Here are a few experiences from hotels and resorts around the world that focus on wellness ideal in August and for years to come. Exercise in Nature: Ditch the indoor gym Las Catalinas, Costa Rica Numerous studies have shown that exercise and time in the outdoors reduce stress, improve memory and attention, and promote feelings of calm. Exercise boosts endorphins, which can reduce stress hormones and alleviate mild depression. Exercise in the great outdoors is beneficial for many reasons. With its ideal setting in a tropical dry forest bordering the Pacific Ocean, Las Catalinas in Guanacaste, Costa Rica, offers many wellness pursuits. CORE by ChakFitness is a unique outdoor gym on the beach (adjacent to Pura Vida Ride); it provides a beautifully designed Flinstones-Esque strength-building experience. The weights and machines are made almost entirely of wood. Renowned owner and longtime Miami trainer Chakiris Menafacio run the classes. The Center of Joy is a new wellness retreat center with various stunning spaces in the heart of Beach Town, offering regular yoga classes, sound baths, and more, all focusing on mindfulness. Many individuals and organizations use this remarkable space for larger group retreats, though residents and guests benefit from its ongoing programming and rotating offerings. Guest can book private rooms for special therapies and services as well. There is a wide range of fantastic accommodation options in town at the boutique Santarena Hotel or any of their villa offerings at Beach Town Travel. Las Catalinas has an exciting array of activities for all ability levels, an outdoor paradise for hikers, trail runners, mountain bikers, yogis, and water enthusiasts. With over 26 miles of world-class, single-track trails that feature stunning views of the coastline and valley vistas, Las Catalinas is the most prominent mountain biking destination in the American tropics. All hiking and running trails feature spectacular viewpoints and opportunities to glimpse some of the area's fantastic local wildlife, including monkeys, peccaries, and coatis, not to mention a wide variety of exotic birds. Trails vary in difficulty and length, from high-intensity hills to low-impact flatter tracks. The town has two of the best beaches on Costa Rica's Pacific coast. Sheltered just enough from the southern swell, Las Catalinas is a haven for water sports enthusiasts. Consistent moderate waves make it ideal for body surfing, boogie boarding, standup paddle-boarding, and sea kayaking. For more information, visit www.lascatalinascr.com. Calabash Cove Resort and Spa, Saint Lucia Ocean Therapy: Head to the beach It's known that there are numerous health and psychological benefits to being close to the ocean. For more than just beautiful ocean views and vistas, travelers continue to choose trips and vacations that bring them up close and personal with the sea. With the feeling of salt water on the skin, the smell of the ocean in the air, and the soothing sound of the waves lapping in the distance, the sea is not only meditative but also reduces stress and allows for self-reflection and discovery. Where beachfront means RIGHT THERE, Calabash Cove Resort and Spa is one of the most popular all-inclusive, adults-only boutique hotels in Saint Lucia, a Caribbean gem is offering seclusion, beauty, and mesmerizing views at every turn. Its 26 villas feature old Caribbean charm coupled with the luxurious resort amenities of today. From the heavenly Windsong restaurant and lively C-Bar overlooking the infinity pool to the peaceful Ti Spa, guests have everything at their fingertips when vacationing at Calabash Cove. Ti Spa offers a wide range of treatments that combine European techniques with St. Lucia's storied tradition of using plant- and food-based ingredients. Treatments are expertly designed to cleanse the body of stress, rejuvenate the spirit, and relax the mind. The exfoliation products are all organic and made from local products that are, in some cases, directly from the resort. Their therapists will be happy to demonstrate the different benefits between a coffee or papaya scrub and more. Try their signature Spa Sampler (80 minutes/$140USD), a blend of holistic spa treatments fused to create the ultimate spa experience. Melt away the stress and tension from the back with a hot stone massage, followed by a deep tissue massage on the back of the legs. Swedish massage techniques are used on the front of the body with a mix of counter stretching. Aromatherapy facial massage is then performed to rebalance and induce even more profound relaxation, and we end this blissful experience with a revitalizing foot scrub. The resort's outdoor pavilion is perched on a hill overlooking the ocean and is the perfect spot for a spa treatment while listening to the waves below. For more information, visit www.calabashcove.com. Ananda in the Himalayas, India Invest in Self-care: Go on a wellness retreat How do we find our inner peace in a constantly changing world, pulling us in different directions and creating a collective culture of chasing dreams? With the pandemic and other life stressors, self-care is more important than ever, and wellness offerings worldwide focus more on improving your mental and emotional wellbeing. For those seeking inner peace and self-acceptance, Ananda in the Himalayas just announced its first-ever The Ananda Soul Detox Retreat – A Himalayan Retreat for Inner Healing and Self Discovery (October 30 – November 6, 2022). By helping people release past toxic or traumatic impressions, this retreat aims to rediscover one's true self while allowing you to invest in and connect with yourself. During this beautiful week together in the heart of the Himalayas, participants will revisit and release some of their most giant emotional blocks and rediscover their energy through robust processes that combine Spiritual Hypnotherapy, Regression, Yoga, Meditation, and Energy Healing. In a serene setting conducive to healing and transformation, the experience will combine profound Eastern Spirituality with Western behavioral sciences to help participants facilitate the ultimate journey - to their inner self. The retreat includes: - Luxury accommodations. - Wellness meals (breakfast, lunch, dinner) at the restaurant. - Daily group sessions (morning and evening). - One personal session on Emotional Healing per person (once during the retreat). - Airport transfers. - Two vouchers per person offer a 15% discount on spa treatments and early check-in and late checkout. Located on a 100-acre Maharaja's Palace Estate, Ananda in the Himalayas is a multi-award-winning luxury wellness retreat in the Himalayan foothills, surrounded by the majestic Himalayan Mountains, the birthplace of India's ancient practices of yoga, meditation, and Ayurveda. More information is here. For more information, visit www.anandaspa.com. Joali Being, Maldives Holistic Wellness: Where the experts are going Travel planning company Origin puts together trips all in one app and has seen the emphasis on wellness more than ever. People's understanding of wellness goes beyond a fancy spa and an infinity pool. It's now a need to re-center post-pandemic. This all-encompassing theme explores the healing elements of physical and mental treatments and spirituality, using methods that spill into even cuisine and art therapy. In the wellness travel world, this new understanding translates to a revamped set of properties with wellness programs that suit the needs of pandemic-affected travelers. Here's one recommendation from Origin's travel curators – contact Origin's team for more suggestions on holistic wellness retreats around the world, from Italy to Mexico – with offerings from mental coaching to ancient spring water rituals – designed to soothe travelers, heal their senses, and get inspired to tackle the "new normal" with a strong sense of self. For more information, visit www. Origin.me. JOALI BEING is the first island retreat in the Maldives that is wholly focused on wellbeing and not as an add-on amenity. On this white sand beach paradise of Bodufushi in the Indian Ocean, every guest goes through a comprehensive reservations process to be assigned their naturopath, therapist, movement specialist, and nutritionist. This team of experts helps the guest reach their well-being goals with access to some of the world's most advanced scientific therapies, diagnostic services, and alternative treatments, based on a scientific approach concentrating on the four pillars of Mind, Skin, Energy, and Microbiome. The intention is that her guests take what they've experienced at JOALI BEING and incorporate them into their daily lives for a balanced and whole life. Read the full article

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