#world roamers works

[axvwriter]

World Roamers works

Works related to characters that aren't restricted to one world should have the tag #World Roamers

Characters

Amy/Viperiss, Kamet, Port Scubbles

Moon Sisters

Writings

Nothing yet! (Though technically there is some old stuff involving Amy and pals from 2016, but I'm rather not go digging for each and every relevant old post.)

[misguidedasgardian]

Wild Cats (part I)

MASTERLIST

I. Roof cats

Summary: You had been alone for a while, until you came across the most unusual group 

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader (slowburn) OCC

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, cannibalism, cursing, slowburn

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Readers it's on her twenties, this will start after the fall of the prison, when everyone is on their own, separately 

It was some sort of miracle that you managed to stay alive this long

You didn't know if it was because of your instincts, mistrust in general, knowledge of the undead because of comics, video games and movies or… whatever. 

It was sort of miraculous

When it hit, you were at an airport, trying to get back home, but all the flights became grounded, and the end of the world began. You ran, with a group of people, the most sensitive ones that didn’t want to go back to the city, to Atlanta, you got stuck in a highway, your group began to collapse.

You are not gonna talk about what you felt the first time you saw one.

This is not that sort of story. World had went to shit almost a year ago

You started to feel like you were blessed but cursed at the same time, every time you joined a group, something happened, everything went to shit, they started fighting, they started killing one another, or they got overrun, you never lasted long with any of them. You bailed before things got really ugly.

It was good to be on your own, sometimes, although you haven't had a decent night’s sleep in a while, a long while

You had a technique, you moved early in the morning as soon as you had visibility, half a day, found sleep on the roof of any house or structure after noon, to be awake all night, because the night was all more dangerous. You had to stay alert

You started moving, away from Atlanta, North, with no plan, you guessed, that in this country that wasn’t your own, the safest place could be Washington DC. The capital, were the president and most important people were, you guessed is there was a stronghold of humanity in this country, that might be it… so you started moving, with a map you scavenged from somewhere 

But it was slow, you couldn’t find a working car and when you could, they were low on gas.

You found a couple of houses in the middle of nowhere, they were packed with things and supplies, and you were relieved, so you grabbed a quick snack, and then went up the stairs, always on guard, but the house was empty, and quiet, and then from a window on a child’s room, you climbed onto the roof, you were so tired.

The roof was steep, but you already knew a couple of techniques not to roll and fall off, fortunately, there was a tree that covered you from the sun, so you cuddled hugging yourself, putting your backpack as a pillow, your ax on your hand and a gun in a holster 

You were lulled to sleep quickly, as you couldn’t hear any roamers, only a soft wind.

But you came quickly to yourself again once you heard the click of the safety of a gun near your face. You jumped, instinct polished by more than a year in the damn apocalypse, you only had to tighten your hand, your ax already there, and the other went to your holster. When you managed to lean up to face the intruder, you came face to face with a boy, who shouldn't be older than twelve

You were not going to shoot a kid, and he seemed indecisive, and not violent even though he was pointing a gun at your face

“Don’t shoot me please”, you said calmly, releasing your gun and letting it slide a bit down the roof, until you couldn’t reach it, you raised your hand until they were far enough from the ax. 

The boy seemed to relax his stance

“Are you alone?”, he asked severely, you nodded

“Are you?”, you asked him, he shook his head, “oh”, oh shit was more like it, were you in danger? he seemed like a serial killer in the making, “look I… don’t want any trouble, I just came across this house, I was sleeping a bit, I just want to… keep moving, alright?”, he stopped pointing his gun at you, “I can drop my weapons to the grass below, you can go and then…”, he put his gun back on his hollister, and came out to the roof with a big can of pudding under his arm

“Oh”, you laughed, “you found it”, you said lightly, he smiled, you showed him your own stash, you had found some candy bars

“I’m Carl”, he said, taking a seat near you, opening the can.

“(y/n)”, you answered back, he started eating it, unapologetically. He seemed so relaxed now, but just a few seconds ago he was pointing a gun at you. 

“Are you a nurse?”, he asked, “or a doctor?”, you shook your head

“No”, you whispered, “are you sick? I have paracetamol”, you offered with the pain of your heart, you almost got killed obtaining it, but he was a kid, and you wanted to think that there were still “codes” in place. 

“No”, he mumbled, “it’s my dad”

“What’s wrong?”, you asked back

“He collapsed, he is tired but… he is not waking up”

“Oh”, you muttered, not offering anything helpful, “It’s just the two of you?”, you asked him, but he frowned when he looked at you, thinking you did not have good intentions

“We were a big group, we got split up”, he mumbled, “after a group attacked our camp, we were hold up in a  prison”

“Really?”, you asked, “that’s smart actually, a place to keep people in, and out”, you mumbled

“Yeah, but we got overrun”, he whispered

“Oh”, you said back

“Do you want to come with us?”, he asked, you looked back at him.

Yes the rest of the groups you had joined had not worked out, but you had been alone for four weeks now, and you were getting pretty tired, and lonely, almost going insane, you had to sing in a low voice to yourself to hear something, a voice even if it was your own

“Are there… more kids?”, you asked, doubting it, “is this like a Peter Pan and the lost boys situation?”, he laughed

“No, it’s my dad, and Michonne, two adults”, you hesitated

“I’m not gonna lie, it’s been tiring being alone”, you admitted, “I would like to hang out with people for a while”, you tried to smile softly at him, and he smiled back. He straightened his posture, and got all serious

“How many walkers have you killed?”, your raised an eyebrow

“Walkers?”, you asked

“Those things”, he clarified, “the undead”

“I call em’ fuckers”, you said with a smile, he laughed, “Don’t know, many, a lot like, I hope a hundred by now”, you said happily and proudly, he nodded

“How many people?”, he asked then

“One”, you whispered

“Why?”, he asked, he wasn’t asking randomly, he knew what questions to ask and why

“He tried to steal from me”, you said truthfully, “something I needed to survive”, he seemed to nod

“What’s in your pack is yours, but what we find from now on, we share with the group, is that cool?”, he asked, you smiled and nodded, “let’s go”, he said.

You both sneaked back into the house, it felt nice to let the decision making go to somebody else, even if that person was a kid 

You came inside the house, and arranged to search the different rooms. You had barely turned your back when Carl opened the door and a walker? came out aggressively. Carl jumped towards the door to try to close it, but the monster was already half out. You grabbed your ax from your belt and smashed the roamer’s head in. He felt limply into the room.

“Thank you”, he muttered. You barely nodded

“I think this was the only one”, you both nodded and kept searching.

You found a flashlight and batteries! you already had one, but it was always useful. You also found some toiletries, which were not a priority, but again, always useful

You searched another house nearby, this kid… was amazing, he seemed to know what he was doing, a bit hesitant, but still. 

Then, we returned to the house, and there, covering the door with a huge sofa, rested a man. He looked a bit wild, thick unruly beard and curls, he must have been on his forties or so. He looked… tough, if anything

“That’s your dad?”, you asked

“Yeah, he is Rick, Rick Grimes”, he muttered

You placed what you scavenged on the coffee table. 

“It's a nice loot”, you admired, he smiled at you

“That’s a cool ax”, he admired

“Thank you! went I first got stranded trying to leave atlante we just happened to stop by a Bass Pro Shop”, you giggled. It was one of those you could throw, with a carbon fiber black handle.

You heard steps on the porch and you raised from the seat you had taken in one of the single sofas of the house, standing on guard. Carl as well stood up, but signaled you to stay calm

“It’s MIchonne”, he mumbled, and a woman entered the house

She was a badass, you knew the second you saw her, long hair in dreadlocks, leather tight vest, and a freakin’ katana hanging from her back

But as soon as she saw you she tried to grab the handle 

“Carl!”, she called

“No!”, he said quickly, placing himself between you both

“Who’s that?”, the little discussion woke up RIck, who, when he saw you, he grabbed his big ass gun he had on his holster

“Dang it!”, you said raising your hand as he pointed the gun at you

“Dad! stop!”, said Carl, with his back turned to you 

“Who are you?”, he asked 

“(y/n)”, you said back quickly, showing him your hands

“Dad is fine”, insisted Carl, “I asked her the questions”, you smiled apologetically

“Are you alone?”, he asked severely

“Yes, I swear”, you muttered

“I haven’t encountered anyone”, muttered Michonne, seconding your words 

You looked at both Michonne and Rick

“Look, I’m alone”, you said quickly, “I have been for a while, a month or so, I’m tired I would really like some company”, you begged, “if not, please, just let me leave, you will never see me again, I swear I want no trouble, for me this is the living VS the dead, I swear”, you said hastily 

“How many walkers have you killed?”, he asked, again. 

“I’d like to think I’m reaching triple digits, but I can’t be sure”, you said in all honesty, still with your hands leveled with your head. He frowned when he looked at you, “I try to drop them all, because, one less human-eating corpse walking around, right?”, you asked, he shared looks with his son, and then nodded. Carl walked until he could see your face, he nodded at you, encouraging you

“How many people have you killed?”, he asked then. You swallowed, hard

“Intentionally? one”, you whined, “but I accidentally pushed something that fell on top of someone and…”

“Why?”, he asked

“We were trying to leave that warehouse and a door just…”

“The one”, he clarified. Your eyes filled with tears

“I was trying to leave the thick of Atlanta, and… he was with me in the safehouse when it collapsed, we ended up wanting… there was only one car and…”, you choked, you still couldn’t sleep some nights, “he had a gun on me and I had a gun on him, I fired first”, you managed to let out, “I like to tell myself that he was a bad person, he certainly sounded like, I… also like to think it was him or me, he was a bit of an asshole…”, he lowered his gun

“I’m guessing you don’t have a camp”, he said slowly, lowering his gun, you shook your head

“I sleep on a lot of roofs”, you muttered, “mainly in the daylight… there is where Carl found me, I keep moving… from house to house, and…”

“Why? Why are you alone?”, you seemed to think the answer

“I’d like to think of myself like someone who is a good people reader”, you said slowly, “I tried to join some groups, but they all collapsed pretty quickly, I… gathered things by myself and I usually scattered before things got ugly”

“Where’s your family?”, he asked, now these questions seemed random

“I was alone in the airport hoping to catch a flight home, when it hit”, you muttered, “my family is on the other side of the continent”, you admitted.

“Are those your weapons?”, you had your ax, and you had a gun which you could find a silencer for, you had been very lucky. You nodded, “are you a good shot?”, you nodded again

“Decent”, you said, “I have been able to take him out with one shot”, you said proudly. They seem to relax, “we found pudding”, you offered with a smile, “I have paracetamol”

. . .

Even if the beginning was a bit… gun-sy, you made peace with Michonne and Rick, and now you felt at a disadvantage because they knew some things about you, but you didn’t know much about them except that Carl was Rick’s son, and Michonne was not related but they knew each other pretty well.

So, as it was night as you had opened some cans of spaghetti, you gathered the courage to speak to them. 

“Carl told me about a prison…”, you started the conversation, they both looked at you with serious faces

“We had built a camp on a prison”, she said, “We were a big group, but we got attacked by another group”, Michonne said, “We all got split when the prison was overrun by walkers and the governor’s people”

“He came with a tank!”, said Carl, and you looked at him surprised

“A tank? really?”, you asked, truly surprised, “Do you have some sort of meeting point?”, you asked, and they looked at each other

“No”, said Rick

“Do you intend to find them?”, you asked

“Yes”, said Michonne

“Great”, you said hopefully, “I hope we do”, you said truthfully. They shared entertained looks 

You consider yourself to be a good people reader, and them? they seem fine to you, though as hell, but good. You felt good, safe, they knew what they were doing, as did you. 

Even though they made you sleep while they kept watch, you managed, to finally, have a good night's sleep. You could understand why they were weary of you, you did, they wouldn’t let you out of their sight, and they didn’t let you protect them at night, but still, you understood, so you did what you normally would have done, and you showed them you could be trusted, leaving your weapons around when you were in the house and trying not to eye them too much even though you were curious. 

You believed they accepted you because they could see you could handle yourself in this fucked up world. And you found yourself wanting to prove yourself to them.

The very next day, they left you on your own to keep scouting the surrounding area, Carl and Michonne left on their side, you guessed they kept testing you.

You had your pack and arms with you, and you did as you always did, you guessed if it was a trap to get rid of you, at least they didn’t rob you or killed you, but Rick had stayed in the house to rest, apparently he had a couple of very rough days and needed it.

You met with Michonne and Carl back again on your way back, you were happy, you found a first aid kit, to replenish your own, and then some, and then you found some cans of mushrooms, those were your favorites, if only you could find some mostaccioli and cream, but that was too much to ask.

You missed pasta

But when the house was in your sights, Rick came running out, signaling you to do the same, there was people in the house, you turned around and started running, being thankful you had carried all your things with you.

“What happened?”, Michonne asked as you were running away from the house

“A group of men, several, entered the house”, he told you as you ran. And you did not ask more questions, being thankful that they accepted you.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Part 13

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Summary: Rejected by your true mate at 21, you’ve given up on the Fates and the Moon Goddesses giving you a second chance. Being a Roamer for the last 9 years, you’re an Omega hardened by the world. You’re safe on your own because of your witchcraft, but it doesn’t stop Alphas and plenty of others sniffing around, especially when you’re an unmated Omega witch, who’s wolf also happens to be white, the rarest kind. You don’t need anyone, but why do you keep coming back to Brookville and why do you keep walking into trouble and helping people that you don’t know but for some strange reason feel like family. And where is that smell of apple pie coming from?

Series Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters

Chapter Summary: Have you survived the fight and fall?

Chapter Warnings: Witchcraft

Pain. That was what you felt first. Then a hum of voices, like you were underwater. Familiar scents dashed around your nose. Your cloak was pulled firmly around you and you felt yourself rise from the floor. Were there arms around you? Shouts and gruff voices, and a hand in yours, whooshing of brooms, then silence again.

Later, beeping and harsh lights, shouts of an argument and your name and then darkness.

Then there’s something on top of you, blankets you think and the smell of lavender, as whispers of spells haunt your dreams. Then it’s dark again.

You’re not sure how long has passed when you fully start to wake. You don’t know where you are but you know that you’re safe. Scents of Frank, Billy and the pack fill the room, with a hint of Storm, Jean and Logan mixed in. You’re sure Fiona’s mixed in there too but her scent's different somehow.

You hear Frank and Billy’s voices and slowly begin to open your eyes. Frank and Billy. Your Frank and Billy. Your Frankie and Billy Boy? Your Alpha and Beta? Could they be? They weren’t your second chance, not officially but did that matter? Did anything else really matter anymore? As long as you could be happy together, that would be ok right? Billy had saved your life during the fight and you’d saved his in return. You’d all saved each other over and over. This could work right? You needed to wake up and speak to your boys. You tried to force yourself awake as you began to listen to their hushed conversation.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something.” Frank asked.

Billy nodded in reply.

“Elektra mentioned when you were hit with that spell, y/n, she told you to think of something good.”

Billy nodded again

“What’d you think of?”

Billy let out a sigh.

“Not what you’re guessing.”

Frank pointed at you, layng in the hospital bed.

“A little.”

“Maria?”

Billy nodded a single tear running down his face.

“Hey, come on now.” Frank replied throwing an arm around him.

“I’m such an asshole.”

“Bill.”

“Listen” Billy replied getting more upset, “she’s saving my life, I’m laying there because I took my eyes off what I should have been doing, to fucking flirt with her, in a battle zone, and I’m laying there and she’s saying think of something, think of something good, and for a second I thought of her. I swear I did Frankie, and then I was choking on that stuff and even as she’s saving me, she disappeared and it was Maria. It was her and the little ones and….”

Billy began to sob and Frank held him tightly. Glancing at you Frank had a realisation. As much as he loved you, as much as he adored you, as much as he appreciated you and everything you’d done for his pack, and as much as he was drawn to you, you would never be his. Or Billy’s. They could never love you as much as they had loved Maria. It wasn’t fair to keep hold of you. It wasn’t fair to hold you back.

Frank would burn the world down for you and so would Billy, but you weren’t their second chance and the more Frank thought about it, he knew they wouldn’t get one. Maria had been it for the them. Billy hadn’t even had that long with her but she was it for him too.

“I don’t want to let her go Frankie but we have to don’t we?” he sniffed.

“Yeah bud, we do.”

Frank continued to hold Billy as he sniffled, not noticing the single tear that ran down your face.

Maybe Agatha was right, maybe nobody would ever want you.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

Comment to go on the taglist!!!

@animegirlgeeky @jvanilly @slut4srogers

[kafus]

you guys are not gonna believe what i just beat red with LMFAO. set mode + no items in battle (held items ok) + i am like 30 levels underleveled on all of my guys. partially for my own amusement and pride, partially to spite people who talk about how much you "have to" grind in johto games

it took a few attempts since my strategy relies on some decent luck to happen but there's a few ways it could go and i could succeed! and it really didn't take that long!! explanation below the cut for anyone who wants to nerd about this with me

red leads with his pikachu, i lead with meganium. EQ isn't quite a one shot and i have to reset if he lands charm on me, but sometimes he chooses thunder and sometimes charm misses so it's not that bad. i just spam EQ and let him waste his full restores until pikachu goes down

next he sends out venusaur, and i set up light screen and then spam body slam until it paralyzes, which happens most of the time since i resist all his grass moves + am behind a light screen and i get a lot of chances for that 30% paralysis as a result

i let meganium go down for the clean swap into houndoom, who is able to take the venusaur out with one flamethrower after meganium chipped it a bunch (she outspeeds because the venusaur is paralyzed!!)

he sends out his blastoise next, depending on the state of light screen, sunny day from his venusaur, etc, i choose to go into politoed to resist surf or snorlax who can weather hits in general and stall the blastoise out. in my winning attempt i went to politoed, and land a hypnosis after missing it once, so now politoed is low

this is the one part that's particularly RNG heavy - i swap into magneton and use thunder twice for the KO. this requires blastoise to stay asleep long enough for thunder's shitty accuracy to actually land twice. i do have a quick claw which boosts the odds of it going well just a little bit. in this case it works out

red sends out espeon so i swap into houndoom, hopefully on a baited psychic but unfortunately he goes for reflect instead. my houndoom just barely misses out on the 2 shot and goes down to some swifts even from full HP smh. so i have to send out my snorlax who can take one psychic and take espeon's last remaining bits of HP with a body slam

now for the fun part. red sends out his snorlax. who for some reason only has normal attacking moves, snore and body slam. so i send out the gengar i trained up for catching the roamers (technically he is literally the only pokemon i ever grinded levels on in my entire playthrough because i decided i wanted him last minute and had already fought every trainer in the game, but it wasn't that bad + he's nearly 40 levels under red's team still lmfao) and well. since snorlax took a ton of unexpected damage from psychic, i first do some very careful slow ass switching to get him back to full HP... with leftovers recovery. and then once that's done i use curse with gengar

in a perfect world, i use hypnosis after curse, it lands, and his snorlax just stays asleep through all the curse damage, but unfortunately he wakes up and uses rest - this puts him in a cycle where if i'm just sitting there with gengar, he'll never die from curse damage since he rests on the turn he would faint from the damage and wakes up and uses rest again in a loop like that. SO to get him to faint from curse without having to literally PP stall him, on his second turn of rest i swap into politoed who is on low HP (this is safe because he's never going to choose a normal type attack against gengar), which baits body slam on his wake-up turn instead of using rest again, and then swap into gengar immediately to be immune to the body slam. gengar outspeeds and uses psychic to take out the singular HP point remaining

and at last all that's left is his charizard. i let gengar go down and swap into snorlax who's now at full HP again and use toxic, and now it's just a matter of a very iffy toxic stall. magneton and politoed being alive in the back means i can swap to them as sacrifices if i need a little more leftovers recovery, and in the end charizard goes down to toxic damage after rest + sleep talking him (in gen 2, if rest is called by sleep talk, even though the user is already asleep, they use rest again which resets the sleep counter and heals them again so yeah)

i'm unreasonably proud of this bullshit LMAO fuck level grinding man this is way more entertaining

[sqarletsworldlesswandering]

Starlets

Starlets - of all varieties and only so-called until I have a better name - have an interesting little color differential. Because they are younger stars, their core color reflects that. Light starlets have a deeper, darker blue; Dark starlets have a more yellow orange.

Usually, they gradually grow out of these colors as they age. However, in some cases, it can linger, or even progress farther than anticipated. As such, Light Starfolks' cores exist on a spectrum of dark blue to nearly white, usually in the light blue range. Dark Starfolks' range from yellow to a deep orangish-red, most commonly in the orange range. Instances of color variation often indicate something about the Starfolk in question after a certain age, though on rare occasion it's entirely inconsequential.

Cases of redish-orange and white usually indicate one of two things - that the Starfolk has been around for a much longer time (best case), or that the Starfolk is dying (worst case). They often expect the worst if this coloration shows up young, but there are tests to determine whether it indicates death.

Cases of persisting yellow or dark blue have more diverse causes:

Energy deficiency. This requires continued energy absorption in order to keep the star stable and thriving. Part of the reason the young colors remain here is because the star can't function normally without a similar energy intake to when they were growing.

Energy surplus. This one isn't a bad thing most of the time, it just means they have more energy to work with, largely because their core handles energy more efficiently. The same amount of energy as the next star will go farther for them. The only time it's bad is if there's so much surplus that it needs an outlet, which leads into the next indication.

Energy instability. A surplus gone wrong - there's too much energy without sufficient regulation, and so it starts destabilizing the star in question. This, thankfully, is obvious early on and has several available solutions.

Energy flux. Sometimes also called Sensitivity. The star has a heightened awareness of the ambient energy in the world around them, and to some degree, that energy is also flowing through them (hence flux). This is relatively neutral, though it can be overwhelming.

Absolutely nothing. Sometimes the colors just stick. It's the starfolk version of Perpetual Baby Face.

Another miscellaneous note:

Starlets thrive and grow best in areas called "nebulas."

For Roamers, this means whatever area of ambient energy they were born from. Those ambient clusters capable of creating starfolk are always nebulas, and usually there's some visual indicators like colorful magic clouds. However, those clouds are more visible and vivid for starlets and magic-sensitive folk, whereas the average adult starfolk has to look a bit closer.

For starlets, nebulas have to be made artificially in a little nest-like area by the parents. These are smaller and more contained areas, and usually come after the starlet has grown enough that they don't need to be near one of their parents 24/7.

[zombiee-reviews]

I’m really glad I discovered your blog and a few others. I enjoyed Asmundr when I was a kid and Home is…wow. Not good. At all. 😭 I could complain about so many things about this comic but I’m sure you’ve covered it plenty. It’s just crazy how many plot points and characters are just…forgotten???? Kique needs to learn to focus on one storyline PLEASE

Hello! Yes! I’m still alive lmao.

Ahem. Asmundr was certainly a lot better than Home, as we all know. Sure, it was a rip off of a major movie and had some flaws, but at this period of time, Kique was a rookie comic artist. We all had hope for him when he announced Home, being a sequel to Asmundr.

Home HAD potential, that is until Kique suddenly had this fascination with his rapist character Ranach and his useless as hell “partner”, Rogio. The night Rogio was sacrificed to the beasts and suddenly saved, was the same night that Kique decided to dump his script and go off into the sunset not knowing where the hell he was taking the story.

Then, he decided to add too many plot lines that became hard to follow and sometimes conflict the story when we have time skips. The beginning, we focused on Roamer as the main character, now Roamer has basically become a side character and Rogio practically takes on the role of the main character when it comes to MT’s storyline. Everything that MT does is Rogio’s decision, not Ronja. Hell even Roamer has more say so as well.

In conclusion, Kique is a terrible writer and a terrible human being. Looking beyond face value of the whole story, Kique shows his true colors and his beliefs with how the world SHOULD work, in his mind. And to think at some point I did enjoy this story a lot, that is until every time I turned the page more BS stacked onto a pile that went nowhere.

[imthepunchlord]

Hey, I'm sorry. I know you're not part of the miraculous fandom anymore, but I've wanted to ask this question for a really long time. Were there ever moments when designing your own miracle box, kwamis, or powers did you ever feel the urge to just throw out the idea of the miraculous being tied to a specific culture and just having them be generic fantasy? Or just throw out the idea of the guardians and miracle boxes in general and just have the kwamis be free roamers that pick their own holders based on their personalities? (There is also the idea of just throwing out the idea of the kwamis embodying concept and just being beings of magic)

Oh plenty of times.

In hindsight, and in the grand scheme of things, that's honestly how they should've handled the Miraculous, not tie them to any one specific culture or region. Just let them be open to the world. Let them be magical.

It would've opened them up to work with a variety of myths and cultures or pick what they want to work with power wise instead of just tying it to one specific region. It would've allowed them to be flexible with what animals could appear and they didn't have to limit themselves to iconic groups of animals of that region or bring in a huge number like the freak Chinese Zodiac that they clearly couldn't handle or scale evenly.

I can't say for others cause it just may be me, but I definitely wouldn't be raising a brow or be put off at some of the choices made with powers and some of the clear inspirations for the Miraculous and kwamis. Like, Rabbit I would've only be bothered by the time traveling power and not just it also being tied to a European novel when it's supposed to be tied to China (and the Moon Rabbit IS RIGHT THERE but I guess we can't have a 2nd healing Miraculous to help shoulder the burden for LB but we can have multiple that generate items).

I also wouldn't be so bothered about how Tikki and Plagg are portrayed and their very European/Christian inspirations (especially them becoming those over designed biblical angels, if anyone knows for sure please do correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think those have a place in Taoism and to me just screams they should've been Europe based, especially as Thomas still works off the European good and bad luck themes more than creation and destruction (like there was a whole series of tweets from Thomas insisting that Cataclysm doesn't DESTROY but causes bad things to happen), even though this is a power from what should be Destruction... and they're the most iconic animal symbols for good and bad luck in Europe specifically).

Honestly, the only issue that could've arose if they let them loose in origins is the two that's very European/Christian based being established as "most powerful", and you don't really want that, but if you just remove the idea of tiers and just roll with that some have an edge over others (like Ladybug always has an edge over Butterfly), then that fixes that.

But, in doing so, that does lead down a path of changes and questions to consider: Miraculous wise what should exist, what should be cut, how do Miraculous work off each other, what's the system of control in the face of misuse, should Ladybug and Cat be the ONLY wish granting duo, should there be others, if so how is Ladybug and Cat more desirable than any other wish granting duo, could it be that every pair can grant a unique sort of wish, or could it be that by a specific year a specific duo grants the wish and it's the year of LB and Cat, ect..

I admit that it's all probably over complicating things, but it's questions like those that come to mind when I think of tossing away Miraculous tied to a specific region and culture, and it's just apart of the ongoing issue of trying to think of how to fix the show cause it's just endless possibilities and potential to pick from and consider. Like, take Adrien as an example, his character could have roughly 10 possible paths to take as a character. If they wanted to do something with him, the options are there. Could done him as a starting hero who starts it for freedom and fun and then becomes serious later. Could do him learning friendship lessons. Could do him learning that he can find happiness outside the need for romantic love. If not as a starting hero, could've given the Ladyblog to him to run and he wants to expose his crush and just not consider what that could mean for her and not everyone likes that public attention that he's used to (and for angst, Gabriel is supportive of Adrien doing this), heck, if you wanted sentiAdrien, could do him growing into his own, becoming his own person and breaking free of Gabriel's control.

Another big factor is that you change so much of ML's set up and the little lore that's given, well, it becomes less ML and more your take on the concept, and at that point, maybe it's best just to do your own thing cause it's not ML anymore.

Either way, for Guardians, the Order, and the Miracle Box, I honestly don't mind them existing, but they were mishandled. If Miraculous popped up enough, then there will be a good number of people who will know about them, and there will be people who will think it's a good idea to make an organization designed to work with them, secure they don't fall into wrong hands, and handle any big crisis that arises. And I like the idea that the Miracle Box was designed to house the jewelry, but also offered kwamis their own safe pocket dimension, which could open up to more so they can have their own rooms but also a core space for all to hang out in. The big issue of the Order is that what we get is just incredibly incompetent that they shouldn't have bothered. And the big shame is that they could've been an antagonistic force or the next villains to face post HM, cause hey, it is human nature to be controlling and have a say in how things should be and it could it started with good intentions and turned south, could've done humans could look down on kwamis and their views and think they know better, or it could be that kwamis can't be fully trusted in their views. It just could've been complex and interesting.

And lastly concepts, I go back and forth on that, cause on one hand, that can be limiting in terms of powers, cause animals can be so much more than one theme. Like, time does work well for snakes, but they're also tied to dragons, water, healing, death, duality, cunning/intelligence, ect.. But if you're doing a single power or a few, that can give you some idea on what to work with, especially if you can have a single power that is just right. If Dog was the Miraculous of Recollection, and you expanded upon what Fetch could Fetch, it's a perfect match, you could recollect a lost object or person (can work off search and rescue dogs), you could recollect a recently passed soul and revive someone who recently passed (works off hellhounds and guarding the underworld), it could even be done to bring forth a memory or be used as a means to bring forth the truth when it's denied (which is another term of recollection).

Gosh this became such a long rant, but yeah, I have thought of those things when I was trying to figure out how to rework stuff. I do think in the grand scheme of it all, it'd be better if Miraculous weren't tied to China and just allowed to dabble in a variety of cultures and be very traveled, especially as they clearly didn't want to really represent that culture and just used it because foreign = exotic and magical. Not to say there wouldn't be any issues but there'd be less to raise a brow at, and it would've given them more flexibility in powers and what Miraculous could appear. Now the Order and concepts, that's a give or take depending on how they're handled and what's done, but I'd say with the current show they're not worth the inclusion.

[livealittleoc-cb]

"I can sense your anger and it excites me~"

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.: Set [Seth or Seb/Sebastian Sayed]

⋆｡°✩ Egyptian God of Chaos, War and Storms

⋆｡°✩ Younger Brother of Anubis

⋆｡°✩ He works at a club in the human world and a bar in the underworld/hell

⋆｡°✩ He has no animals both Anubis and Jay have enough animals for the three of them

⋆｡°✩ He has bad mood swings, can go through 3 different emotions in one go

⋆｡°✩ He can also get overwhelmed along with easily stressed, needs cuddles to calm down

⋆｡°✩ He is very apathetic, insane and sadistic TAKE THIS INTO CONSIDERATION WHEN INTERACTING!

⋆｡°✩ Will soften up when you get close, still will be a little shit though

⋆｡°✩ In "Human" form he is Egypt, in Astria he is from Sceile [Cairo, Egypt]

⋆｡°✩ Another who doesn't care for pronouns but tends to go with He/They / Pansexual, Poly / 24 [Human Years], is as old as chaos and storms / 1/10 [Capricorn] / 5'8"

⋆｡°✩ He is:

insane

apathetic

amused

easily annoyed

easily bored

needs his interest to be kept

can be really soft when he wants to

God Information / Form Stuff

⋆｡°✩ he feeds off of chaos, storms and anger/annoyance

⋆｡°✩ chaos is the most affective for him but storms also help

⋆｡°✩ he likes sitting and listening to storms to calm down or go out on walks in them

⋆｡°✩ in old times could be seen in moments of conflict, wars, storms, floods, etc.; now you see him in modern day conflict, car crashes, crime scenes, disputes, etc.

⋆｡°✩he can be found literally anywhere, he is a roamer, so when not at ari's place, with anubis, at his house or in the underworld he is roaming some place

⋆｡°✩ when he feeds his eyes turn inky black with a white glow

⋆｡°✩ as a god he can smell and sense emotions well but the smell/sensation of anger/annoyance is the strongest he can depict

⋆｡°✩ he can also sense changes in insanity, if someone has commited a sin and read minds when he wants to; he uses this to his advantage to cause more problems and chaos

⋆｡°✩ he was not always a bad god and holds big resentment towards the ones who hurt and betrayed him

⋆｡°✩ he has more strength then a normal human and greater amount of strength compared to other gods

⋆｡°✩ he can change his "human" apperance [height, eye color, hair color, etc.]

⋆｡°✩ each god has a human name they go by, his is Seth or Sebastian/Seb

⋆｡°✩ in his god form he is 6'8"

⋆｡°✩ in his god form, his eyes are completely inky black, his skin is a lot tanner, has black and gold curls, has jackal ears and a tail as well as sharp canines, he carries a staff and bag to carry items to create more chaos with, his nails are permanently painted black and gold, his torso, arms and legs are covered in hieroglyphic tattoos

⋆｡°✩ he cries inky black and gold tears for recompense of all the bad deeds he has done

⋆｡°✩ gold/white signifies the last shreds of sanity and good he has left

⋆｡°✩ when not in astria or the human realm he resides in the underworld realm [hell, typically district 1]

⋆｡°✩ in his half and half form he is his normal 5'8", has snake bite piercings, a septum, a bar on this right ear along with other hoop ear piercings, smiley piercing only visible when he smiles && a surface piercing on top of his left hand, his eyes are either their bright blue or normal sparkly grey, curly dual dyed black && blonde/white hair and sometimes has his jackal ears, tail and canines out

⋆｡°✩ him and anubis both can turn into full jackals to blend into certain places; they also can have a jackal head and human body but they detest this form

Extras

⋆｡°✩ natural eye color: sparkly stormy grey

⋆｡°✩ eyes might glow black when amused

⋆｡°✩ he has snake bites, a septum, a bar, hoop earrings at the tops of his ears, a smiley piercing && a surface piercing on top of his left hand

⋆｡°✩ he has multiple random tattoos on both his arms

⋆｡°✩ likes: choas, pushing people's buttons, cuddles, pain, roaming around, being around ari, ace, anubis, hel and hecate, coffee && energy drinks

⋆｡°✩ dislikes: staying in one spot, being bored, being tired, sleeping, eating, goodie two shoes [selective]

⋆｡°✩languages: arabic && english, a little bit of french

NSFW

⋆｡°✩ pure switch, needs someone who is also a switch, can be a hard dom or a bratty sub, might be soft dom if he's in a soft mood; some of his kinks are pain kink, blood play, primal, bdsm, bondage, gagging, choking, oral, size kink, sadism, masochism, humiliation, degradation, hair pulling, public, diry talk

⋆｡°✩ all kinks go both ways, both recieving and giving

⋆｡°✩ as much as he likes hard kinks set would never force his partner to do anything they don't want to do

⋆｡°✩ he is open to a variety of kinks as well just ask him about it and he most possibly will be down to try, if he doesn't like it he will let you know

⋆｡°✩ he might subdrop/domdrop depending on headspace

⋆｡°✩ his eyes glow white/gold when arroused

⋆｡°✩ safe word: storm [set needs their partner to have a safe word or use the traffic light system && be told which before sex]

⋆｡°✩ he uses 🌪️ on dash

Relationship Statuses

He is in a relationship with Ari/Jay!!!

⋆｡°✩ at some forest in his jackal form and amused

⋆｡°✩ dating [2/4-5] @monsterhigh-cb Taehyung [pretty alpha🐺💜] [3.27.23], @kardpackcb BM [big bad alpha 💪🏽❤️‍🔥] [4.8.23]; uninterested [open to having fwb if his partners are okay with it]

⋆｡°✩ happily dating ari/jay [his sweetheart🍬] [him && ari will be taking ONE more partner together]

⋆｡°✩ friends:

⋆｡°✩ family:

Tags

⋆｡°✩ relationship tag(s): #💀🌪️seay [sadistic couple main tag], #💜🩶taeset [alpha ship tag], #🐺🐾pretty alpha [alpha ship tag], #❤️‍🔥🩶bmet [soft dummy ship tag], #🐺❌bad alpha [soft dummy ship tag]

⋆｡°✩ friend tag(s):

⋆｡°✩ family tag(s):

⋆｡°✩ music tag(s): #🎶set music [set music inspo], #🎵seay [set && jay music inspo], #🎼character music [all character music inspo]

⋆｡°✩ inspo tag(s):

⋆｡°✩ other tag(s): #🌪️set.txt [set text/interactions]

faceclaim: @/heir.of.atticus on instagram [the love of my life!]

[leftistfeminista]

While in Paris, Mary met in the house of T[homas] Paine where she had been welcomed as a friend, the vivacious, handsome, and elemental American, [Gilbert] Imlay. If not for Mary’s love for him the World might never have known of this Gentleman. Not that he was ordinary, Mary could not have loved him with that mad passion which nearly wrecked her life. He had distinguished himself in the American War and had written a thing or two, but on the whole he would never have set the World on fire. But he set Mary on fire and held her in a trance for a considerable time.

The very force of her infatuation for him excluded harmony, but is it a matter of blame as far as Imlay is concerned? He her all he could, but her insatiable hunger for love could never be content with little, hence the tragedy. Then too, he was a roamer, an adventurer, an explorer into the territory of female hearts. He was possessed by the Wanderlust, could not rest at peace long anywhere. Mary needed peace, she also needed what she had never had in her family, the quiet and warmth of a home. But more than anything else she needed love, unreserved, passionate love. Imlay could give her nothing and the struggle began shortly after the mad dream had passed.

Imlay was much away from Mary at first under the pretext of business. He would not be an American to neglect his love for business. His travels brought him, as the Germans say, to other cities and other loves. As a man that was his right, equally so was it his right to deceive Mary. What she must have endured only those can appreciate who have themselves known the tempest.

All through her pregnancy with Imlay’s child, Mary pined for the man, begged and called, but he was busy. The poor chap did not know that all the wealth in the world could not make up for the wealth of Mary’s love. The only consolation she found was in her work. She wrote The French Revolution right under the very influence of that tremendous drama. Keen as she was in her observation, she saw deeper than Burke, beneath all the terrible loss of life, she saw the still more terrible contrast between poverty and riches and [that] all the bloodshed was in vain so long as that contrast continued. Thus she wrote:

“If the aristocracy of birth is leveled with the ground only to make room for that of riches, I am afraid that the morale of the people will not be much improved by the change. Everything whispers to me that names not principles are changed.”

She realized while in Paris what she had predicted in her attack on Burke, that the demon of property has ever been at hand to encroach on the sacred rights of man.

With all her work Mary could not forget her love. It was after a vain and bitter struggle to bring Imlay to her that she attempted suicide. She failed, and to get back her strength she went to Norway on a mission for Imlay. She recuperated physically, but her soul was bruised and scarred. Mary and Imlay came together several times, but it was only dragging out the inevitable. Then came the final blow. Mary learned that Imlay had other affairs and that he had been deceiving her, not so much out of mischief as out of cowardice.

She then took the most terrible and desperate step, she threw herself into the Thames after walking for hours to get her clothing wet [so] that she may surely drown. Oh, the inconsistencies, cry the superficial critics. But was it?

In the struggle between her intellect and her passion Mary had suffered a defeat. She was too proud and too strong to survive such a terrible blow. What else was there for her but to die?

Fate that had played so many pranks with Mary Wollstonecraft willed it otherwise. It brought her back to life and hope, only to kill her at their very doors.

She found in Godwin the first representative of Anarchist Communism, a sweet and tender camaraderie, not of the wild, primitive kind but the quiet, mature, warm sort, that soothes one like a cold hand upon a burning forehead. With him she lived consistently with her ideas in freedom, each apart from the other, sharing what they could of each other.

Again Mary was about to become a mother, not in stress and pain as the first time, but in peace and surrounded by kindness. Yet so strange is fate, that Mary had to pay with her life for the life of her little girl, Mary Godwin. She died on September tenth, 1797, barely thirty-eight years of age. Her confinement with the first child, though under the most trying of circumstances, was mere play, or as she wrote to her sister, “an excuse for staying in bed.” Yet that tragic time demanded its victim. Fannie Imlay died of the death her mother failed to find. She committed suicide by drowning, while Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin became the wife of the sweetest lark of liberty, Shelley.

Mary Wollstonecraft, the intellectual genius, the daring fighter of the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth Centuries, Mary Wollstonecraft, the woman and lover, was doomed to pain because of the very wealth of her being. With all her affairs she yet was pretty much alone, as every great soul must be alone – no doubt, that is the penalty for greatness.

Her indomitable courage in behalf of the disinherited of the earth has alienated her from her own time and created the discord in her being which alone accounts for her terrible tragedy with Imlay. Mary Wollstonecraft aimed for the highest summit of human possibilities. She was too wise and too worldly not to see the discrepancy between her world of ideals and her world of love that caused the break of the string of her delicate, complicated soul.

Mary Wollstonecraft, Her Tragic Life and Her Passionate Struggle for Freedom

Emma Goldman 1911

[soupsspoons]

4. Comic Books and Conversations

Ron had always been kind to Hannah. He respected her, she noticed that immediately. When she first arrived in Alexandria, Hannah didn't say much to any of the boys. She was scared and alone, but he never made her talk. Hannah knew about Ron's issues with his father, but she never wanted to overstep. They understood each other in that way.

"So what were they like?" Ron asked her excitedly, jumping to sit on his bed. It was blanketed with a blue comforter, with orange, yellow, and blue robots decorating its fabric. When Hannah first saw Ron's bedroom, she giggled at the blanket. "That's cute," she had told him, joking with the boy. This was the first thing she had said to him, so he didn't seem to mind the insult. "It used to be Sam's, my brother." At the time, Hannah had yet to meet Sam, but over the years, she grew close to the boy. He was always very sweet with her, showing Hannah all of his toys and sharing any books he had with the girl. Hannah always accepted, even if the books were much too young for her.

"I don't know. Quiet?," Hannah replied to Ron, "Honestly they just seem really overwhelmed." It's true. The group had seemed so on edge, even when they tried to hide it.

"That makes sense."

The two sat in silence as they spoke, Hannah on a cushioned chair in the corner of the room, Ron still sitting criss-cross on his bed.

"I can't believe they made it here from outside," Ron spoke, filling the small silence that had taken over. He had always been very curious about the world outside of Alexandria, though he never ventured farther than the fence. Sometimes, he would ask Hannah about her time outside, hoping to understand what it was like. Hannah knew he meant no harm in asking, but she tried to answer as vaguely as she could. She knew she couldn't relive it, even for a friend.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be outside again?" Ron looked down at her from his seat, crossing his arms against his thighs. When Hannah didn't say anything he continued, "It's just, you know, I wasn't out there for very long. Honestly, I don't remember much before Alexandria." He paused, waiting for Hannah to respond. Once again, she didn't, so the boy continued, " You were out there longer than I was, you know."

"I know"

Ron seemed to pick up on my discomfort with the topic, so he began to talk about other things, not mentioning the switch in conversation. The two talked for another hour, completely forgetting about the earlier discussion. Finally, Hannah decided it was time to leave Ron's and head back to her own home. They said their goodbyes and she was on her way.

Hannah was grateful she had stocked her kitchen earlier in the week. The girl had been so busy with the tour and Ron's, she wasn't able to get anything from Olivia. When she arrived home, Hannah opened her faded green cupboard, grabbed a plate and a cup, and set them on her dining table. Honestly, it was less of a dining table and more of a coffee table, but Hannah didn't mind. She left the table for the fridge, grabbing what was left of yesterday's lunch. She pulled out half of a turkey sandwich, also grabbing some strawberries Aaron had given her earlier in the week. She set it all up on the table, admiring the meal before her. She was still getting used to this, living in Alexandria. She could still remember the nights she had gone without food, only able to find scraps of things the roamers and already gotten to. She had been so excited when she first saw her home, immediately in awe of the fridge in the kitchen. Her kitchen. She knew that if they had taken the time to put in a working fridge, they had enough food to fill it. Hannah was sure she would never be happier.

Happyness was hard to come by when she was outside. The world was mean and it wasn't afraid to show it. She had done things she wasn't proud of, things she could never forget. Her conversation with Ron only amplified those memories for her, putting them front and center in her mind. As she ate, Hannah couldn't help but think about it. The blood, the field, the fear--all of it. But still, she ate, hoping it would all go away.

---

Later that day, Hannah found herself back in Ron's room, sitting on the bed next to Enid while Mikey sat on the same chair Hannah had been sitting in earlier. Ron told the group Carl was coming over to hang out, and everyone was trying their best to be natural. As well as Enid hid it, Hannah knew she was just as nervous to meet the boy. Enid had arrived in Alexandria less than a year ago but still didn't feel quite at home. Hannah tried to help her earlier on, tried to let her know they were friends, but there was always a distance that stood between them, a wall she could never knock down. Enid wanted to go back outside the fence, and Hannah never wanted to leave.

Hannah could hear the boys at the top of the steps, talking indistinctly.

"Guys, this is Carl," Ron says when he enters the room, Carl standing slightly behind him. "Carl, this is Mikey, Enid, and Hannah." He points to each one of them as he spoke. Hannah looked away from the window she had been staring at, watching a bird who sat on the fence separating them and the outside. Carl looks the same as he had before, though his scowl was gone. Instead, he looked sort of happy. Though it was a hesitant, uneasy kind of happy, it was very different than the Carl she had met before.

"Hey" Mikey stands, walking towards Carl and Ron.

"Hi," Enid says after, much less enthusiastic.

"Hi," Hannah says with a small wave of her fingers. She doesn't bother with the same cordialness she had before. If Carl wasn't going to hide his disdain, there was no use trying to comfort him with soft smiles and reassuring giggles. Carl looked toward Hannah and Enid, not quite sure what to say.

"Oh, um," Carl reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a folded comic book. "Is this yours?" He turns to each one of them, not sure who to hand it to.

"Sorry, we didn't know you guys got that house." Ron chuckles. "We mostly just hang out there and listen to music."

"That's Enids," Hannah says before the girl grabs it from Carl's hand and tosses it into Hannah's lap. Carl searches around at the group again, as if he can't decide where to look.

"Want to play some video games?" Ron interrupts the silence, "Or Mikey's house a pool table, but his dad's kinda strict about it, so."

"It's okay, he's at work," Mikey adds quickly. They both look to Carl for an answer, though he gives none. His eyes search the room, hoping to catch onto something that could help him, a lifeboat to save him from drowning. Hannah moves from her place on the bed to see Carl more clearly, so he can see her.

"It's a lot, isn't it?" Hannah chuckled, hoping to lighten the tension. It must be overwhelming, being thrown into a world you thought had left you behind.

Ron looks from Hannah back to Carl," Sorry," he says, realizing what was happening. "I guess we come off kinda strong. We can just hang out?"

Mikey looked at Hannah, understanding what she had meant. Hannah knew Mikey liked her, even if he didn't know it himself. He always looked to her for approval, to make sure she agreed with the things he said. "You don't even have to talk if you don't wanna."

"Yeah, took Enid three weeks to say something." Hannah looked at Mikey, silently gesturing her hands as if to say, 'Dude?!'

"Pull it together, sport" Enid added quietly.

Carl thought about his options for a moment, deciding whether to flee from the unknown or dive in head first.

"Let's, um, let's play some video games." He said with a soft, almost excited, smile, nodding his head as he walked towards Mikey.

Head first it is.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Hello Loveliessssss! This is kinda a filler but I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

What do we think about Hannah's past? What did she do?

Thanks for Reading!

[sallysavestheday]

asks for distraction :)

I'd love a 'director's commentary' on None Shall Mark Thy Going, especially how you came up with the last few lines!

And do you have any thoughts on how post reembodiment reunions in Valinor might go for Fingon & Maedhros (assuming Maedhros isn't cursed for all eternity!)

Thanks, @theworldisquietheretooquiet!

I'll do this one in two parts.

None Shall Mark Thy Going was an attempt to puzzle out how in the world all those people got from Nevrast to Gondolin unseen (it was another excellent prompt from @melestasflight, and the working title was POOF: Gondolin...What the Heck?). Slow movement of small, unobtrusive groups over a longish period of time solved part of the problem. Random departure dates and carefully-concealed communications relays helped. And the multi-talented nature of the Eldar was essential: people had to be able to tackle multiple jobs if the city was to be built quickly and readied incrementally for the next arrivals. I also assumed the availability of most of the resources they'd need (both building materials and food sources and other livelihoods resources) within Tumladen, so there wouldn't be a need for to-ing and fro-ing. Ulmo set this up; he would have provided.

But all of that broke down at the end, when I got to the really heavy goods and livestock and the articles of court and the cranky courtiers and city folks (Noldor are noisy and flashy, they can't help it). So I chose to make the odd piece of all of this -- that Aredhel, creature of the wilds, roamer and wanderer, would agree to lock herself away with Turgon -- what made the difference. If building the city was Turgon’s Great Work, getting them all there safely and secretly was hers.

That let me write an Aredhel I really liked: someone highly-skilled, with a purpose and the determination to see it done, rather than the flightier persona she often takes on in fanon. And it didn't require me to abandon her wildness, because that's where the skills she used come from. I'm very fond of her, in this fic.

In the end, though, I don't think either of them was particularly gleeful at being shut away in Gondolin. Turgon loved Vinyamar -- I hate that he had to leave it. The closing lines imply an understanding on Turgon’s part, in particular, that this is only a stop-gap, and they are not evading Doom. He is being dutiful, but really his heart is in the West with Elenwë, and he's just waiting to join her, when he can. Being King here means nothing outside the city, so he's still playing second-best to Fingon, and being the responsible brother, but he really just wants to go home. 😔

I'll tackle post-Mandos Russingon in the next one. Thanks for the asks!

[dramatiique]

A note on the types of AI within the world and what sets them apart from each other: 

Robots are all machines (the umbrella term) Androids are machines trying to be human. Cyborgs are humans trying to be machines. Synths are “built” humans.

TL;DR is at the bottom of the page. Please see there for bullet point info. There is also mention of sex work but not in detail.

In a dystopian world set in the year 2200, technology and AI have overcome humanity and now rule the world. Savage wars between humans and AI (consisting of a wide range of various robots*) have torn apart countries, reducing some to mere wastelands. Governments fell one-by-one and were replaced by Synth overlords who, as a collective, are known as The Third Eye. Each country has one and they often meet to plan and enact their oppressive laws over humans. They believe humans have taken advantage of the world for too long and that only The Third Eye can save the world.

Citizens simply refer to the overlords as Tyrants and most even refuse to mention them at all — it’s too dangerous and The Third Eye has, well, eyes everywhere. They offered humans the chance to work for them in their facilities scattered around the globe. They promised better treatment for those who took them up on the offer, but truthfully these humans are just pawns who are used to spy on the rest of mankind.

Many types of androids and robots wander the world, feeling a sense of great importance now that humans are where they belong. However, our story focuses on Neo Seoul where Demian Rainer resides. He owns an extravagant, exclusive nightclub called Abraxas in the heart of the city. He grants entry to those who seek a beacon of hope and safety amongst the chaos of the world. To those that can’t reach him in Neo Seoul, he has an online persona that speaks to humanity through the internet. Due to having an elite android (who also acts as his personal bodyguard) in his corner who used to work for The Third Eye, Demian has access to tech that keeps him concealed from the eyes of the Tyrants. They are aware of this presence on the internet but can’t track it to any one place.

Demian uses the internet to spread his word of hope and asks anyone who wishes to find a safe haven to seek him out. The Third Eye aren’t the only ones who have eyes around the country and Demian uses his connections to spread his influence. He sends out his own spies to keep tabs on The Third Eye while a separate team known as The Roamers are sent out to scout areas and recruit new humans who are sick of the society they’ve been forced into. Anyone who joins and proves to be trustworthy and loyal, is initiated into the group called The Seekers. Demian plans to gather enough humans (and androids) to join this group and start a revolution that will storm the Third Eye facility in Neo Seoul and overthrow the Tyrant there.

However, Demian is hiding a deep secret: he’s not human at all. He is a synth who escaped the Third Eye facility over thirty years ago. He is a one-of-a-kind Synth developed by The Third Eye. He had no name and was simply labeled “Project 13”. Despite the Tyrants claiming that synths, androids, and other robots are above humans, they’re also very classist towards their own kind. They deem themselves to be of the most importance who are worthy of names while the rest are known only as numbers or monikers. However, they were particularly interested in their research relating to Project 13 as he was the first synth to be created with a human brain and a bionic heart. This means he can feel emotions and pain that other synths can’t. This makes him a very special case.

After escaping the facility, Demian searched for assistance in the Neo Seoul underworld. Using the money he managed to steal from the facility, he found a synth doctor (who was quite mad in the head and an android himself) to perform facial reconstruction on him to ensure they would have a harder time tracking him. Unfortunately, he also needed new parts to replace his damaged limbs, but he’d spent all of his money on facial reconstruction. Neo Seoul, including its underworld, uses a currency called Tokens; these can be given in the form of coins, paper notes, or digital points as long as they have the official stamp of The Third Eye. The digital tokens can be accessed through a device referred to as a ‘Chronicle" that looks like a small square flip phone. Beyond Neo Seoul, there is nothing but a lawless wasteland filled with dangerous factions and crazed individuals who operate on their own terms. The Third Eye has left them to it, knowing that they’ll tear themselves apart in the end. 

In order to get enough money to completely cover the cost of his new limbs, Demian took on odd jobs. When he realized he wasn’t getting anywhere (and having other robots steal what he did earn) he had no choice but to enter the world of sex work where he served both robot and human clients. During this time, even though the money was steady, he turned to drugs to cope with the pain and dull his senses. If humans thought synths were nothing but emotionless husks who only cared about destruction, then why did he feel so much? There are a variety of drugs, but his favorite are FLARE circuits and Gold Shards, but he’s also known to dabble in human drugs as well.

Back to the present, Demian is now living in wealth after dragging himself up from nothing and now has a tight-knit group of employees that operate out of his nightclub. Previously mentioned, the elite android is one of his employees (and acts as his personal bodyguard) along with the synth doctor who reconstructed his face. He and Demian were able to develop his look until he could perfectly pass as a human. However, Demian has to be mindful of his actions when he’s around other humans; he has to remember to slow his movements, make “human” mistakes, and to not be extraordinary in any way so that his secret can remain undiscovered.

Demian’s personality is an addictive one. He enjoys the party scene and craves a good time because he spent a long time living in fear and loneliness as he desperately tried to find a place to belong. He is still highly dependent on drugs and alcohol (but the latter doesn’t do much for synths other than give them a light buzz) and he craves attention. While he means well, he can be extreme at times, and has become a sort of cult leader to The Seekers. He expects his followers to show him their total devotion and in return he will give them everything they dreamed of within society. His reason behind his desired revolution is because he wants both humans and robots of all kinds to live on equal ground without having to bow down to their oppressive rulers. He also seeks revenge against the Tyrant (the one who rules over Neo Seoul) because they approved and encouraged experimentation on him while at the facility. 

TL;DR —

Demian is a synth created by The Third Eye (AI overlords of the dystopian world)

Is a special, one-of-a-kind case who thinks and feels like a human due to having the brain of one. However, he has a bionic heart. Escaped the facility and carved out a path for himself where he could be free.

He owns a lavish nightclub in Neo Seoul called Abraxas which is a safe haven for those who prove to be worthy — he sends out spies called The Roamers to recruit new people and robots.

Reaches out to those beyond Neo Seoul through the internet and uses tech that can’t be traced back to him .

Goes by He/They and is pansexual and male-leaning (but I won’t ship with other BTS faceclaims)

Has a past in sex work & is a drug user so please be aware of this. Anything NSFW will be tagged.

Please note that him being a synth is hidden information and he’s gone to great measures to ensure it remains a secret. This doesn’t mean that other muses can’t find out who he is at some point but that would have to involve plotting. Demian is an original character inspired by Jimin's "Like Crazy" and "Set Me Free Pt 2" videos.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Christmas As A Roamer - The Seventh Christmas

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Summary: Rejected by your true mate at 21, you’ve given up on the Fates and the Moon Goddesses giving you a second chance. Being a Roamer for the last 9 years, you’re an Omega hardened by the world. You’re safe on your own because of your witchcraft, but it doesn’t stop Alphas and plenty of others sniffing around, especially when you’re an unmated Omega witch, who’s wolf also happens to be white, the rarest kind. You don’t need anyone, but why do you keep coming back to Brookville and why do you keep walking into trouble and helping people that you don’t know but for some strange reason feel like family. And where is that smell of apple pie coming from?

Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters,

You couldn’t hold in your snort of laughter as you entered the hotel room. No scratch that, hotel suite. An actual suite! A suite that was quiet possibly bigger than your whole house growing up. 

“Everything ok Miss?” the bell hop asked.

“Oh yes, thank you, just kind of feels like I’ve fallen face first into Home Alone 2.”

He smiled at you and tried to hide his laughter. 

“Well, it’s not that room but it’s pretty similar. Mr Thrombey says to remind you to run up the room service, something about Hugh paying.”

You failed to answer as your attention was pulled by the huge Christmas tree in the corner.

Christmas trees were a standard feature over the festive period but they held a special significance for witches. The thick fir tree stood tall and broad in the corner, well decorated and instead of an angel or fairy on its top there was a witch on a broom that suspiciously resembled you. 

“That’s a gift from Mr Thormbey, the box is in the cloakroom for you to take it with you.” the bell hop gestured towards what you guessed was the cloakroom and you nodded in response. 

“Can I get you anything else Miss? A tour of the room?” 

As sweet and polite as the beta bell hop was you really didn’t want his scent all over the place. Your new higher end, better quality suppressants had frazzled your senses and put you on high alert as your body got used to them. 

“I’m good, thank you.” you tipped him well and you locked the door tightly behind him as he left. You pulled a vine from a jar in your bag and placed it over the lock and handle. It grew and secured the door further. Thank you Cordelia.

You wandered around the suite, taking in its, well  you weren’t sure, what to call it, over the topness? That wasn’t a word. Opulence then? It was definitely fancy.

When you found the bathtub that you could probably go swimming in, you decided to drop a certain elderly alpha a text.

Thank you Harlan, quick question as I’m not bijouy like you, is this a pool or a bathtub?

Harlan loved your sarcasm and it had been a personal highlight of his over the last few months to see you go toe to toe with his various family members, especially his grandson. That along with when you thrown said grandson straight across the garden into a tree and then onwards into the fountain, which you’d blessed to help rid him of the spell that had been placed on him. The tree wasn’t necessary but he’d grabbed your ass too many times. 

Working with the Thrombeys had been quite the experience. You’d managed to get a few hours in the local witchcraft store as the pack and coven running it had experienced a surge in pups post-war, which was to be expected but with everyone out of sync, the usual staggering of births was out the window. You’d entered looking for a few supplies and left with a job. 

A few weeks in Harlan had arrived with his nurse asking for a witch for their annual Halloween festivities. The coven had given a firm no saying they were too busy with the store and pups, and couldn’t spare the time this year. You were surprised and a little confused. Their store was doing well, why did they usually work for this random rich man, especially as a token witch at Halloween. Witches usually avoid things like that and the stigma that came with it. Many witches saw it comparable to the few witches that were kept alive and kept as ‘guests’ by rich families after Salem. News flash, they weren’t guests and were used for protection and often subjected to repeated alpha commands to stop them leaving. 

You’d continued to pretend you were minding your own business, whilst eves-dropping. Your name pulled your attention away from the shelf you’d been at for the same ten minutes.

“Y/N” your name again.

“Yes, Luna Zelda.”

“Harlan here is looking for a witch to stay with them over the Halloween weekend. We usually oblige but you know yourself how busy we are.”

Harlan had stood from his wheelchair and offered you his hand.

“I don’t see how this has anything to do with me.” you’d replied, smiling as Hilda had sniggered in the corner, her three month old on her hip.

“Well it has everything to do with you, Miss?” Harlan replied, offering his hand again.

“Miss Non Of Your Business.” you replied, turning and walking away into the back of the store.

By the next day it had very much been your business. Zelda had done her best to convince you, spending the whole afternoon explain why one of them would be their token witch each year. The busyness of the store wasn’t constant and they had months in the low season where they wouldn’t break even. Yet they clearly weren’t struggling. 

“Harlan pays well.” 

Then Zelda had told you the amount and you’d been a bit sick in your mouth. This was quickly followed with you offering to look after the pups so they could still do the job but with so many little ones around they understandably didn’t want to be parted from the pack, especially not as witches at Halloween.

Then Fiona had called. She did this on occasion, as much as you tried to brush her off but with one of the girls from Christmas Eve being a  clairvoyant it would sometimes spark her worry. She was also incredibly nosy.

Of course, she knew Harlan. It made sense they were a similar age, both from money, he could be trusted she told you and “goddess knows child you need the money”.

It had given you food for thought and then you’d been awoken by a scuffle outside the bar across the street. Zelda and Hilda had let you stay in the small studio above the shop as part of your working with them but the bar across the street was often a curse to your white wolf ears.

“Hands off my omega!” was followed by more arguing, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, glass being broken and a scream of no. A growl ripped deep in your chest and you were out the window, barefooted and standing on your broom with your jeans thrown on over your pyjamas. The scream wasn’t an average scream, if any could be called that. It was an omega and she was terrified. 

You were quick across the street and at the side of the omega who was now bent across her alpha shaking him, what seemed to be their pack trying to help. The alpha that had done the damage was now being held back. 

“You’ve done it now Ransom, no amount of Thrombey money can fix this.” 

You scowled and flicked your broom to stand in front of him, without casting an eye away from the alpha on the floor.

“Keep him as you in stance”

The blonde being held back went stiff, arms by his side and stood ridged in mirror to your broom. Those holding him shuffled back, as whispers asked who you were.

“May I help?” you asked the omega, she looked up at you, to her alpha on the floor, then across to who you guessed was the alpha of the pack.

He nodded and answered a quiet “please”.

You could hear the voice of the pack beta on the phone requesting the ambulance be quick.

You sniffed and scanned his body using both your white wolf instincts and your powers of a witch. 

“Tell them he has a broken jaw, his eye socket is shattered and he has swelling to his brain. There’s a bleed to his brain too.”

There was a mix of whimpers and growls in response.

“I can help but it’ll be temporary. Should give you long enough to get him to the hospital and for them to get him in surgery.”

You looked up at the alpha of the pack. 

“You have my permission.”

You used your powers to reduce the bleeding and swelling, you summoned your bag from the open window of the studio and dabbed a mix of peppermint and wintergreen oils around his face. You turned to his omega and placed his hand in hers, telling her to keep talking to him. It was then you noticed the marks on her arms.

“Did he do this?” You asked nudging your head in the direction of the alpha you now knew as Ransom, still held in place by your broom. She nodded and turned away from you.

You rose from your knees and nodded to the pack alpha, who followed you towards Ransom. You sighed as you heard his wallet being pulled from his jeans.

“You don’t owe me anything but I will take him.”

There was a darkness to your eyes as you turned towards the pack alpha for permission. You didn’t really care if he gave it you or not, one way or another you were teaching this arsehole a lesson. The alpha nodded.

“Do what you want with him, just make sure he never comes near my pack again.”

You moved quickly grabbing Ransom by the throat and dropping the broom to stand on it and fly away. There was a gasp from the crowd as you did and you realised you literally didn’t give a shit about what they thought.

You’d spent the night teaching the spoiled trust fund brat a lesson. Tossing him through the air, a dip in the river, followed by you leaving him up a tree. Towards the end you thought you should maybe feel sorry for him, but you didn’t. You knew as soon as you saw him outside the bar he’d been hit with a spell and you guessed he’d been battling with it for least six months but Ransom was still an asshole. A good looking asshole but an asshole non the less. The spell had just emphasised his already there traits. 

You landed on the Thrombey's driveway as the sun rose and were quickly greeted by the banging of the large front doors being swung open and a shotgun being pointed in your face. 

“You must be daddy dearest” you’d quipped as you used magic to pull the gun from his hands and tossed it into the windscreen of the vintage looking BMW parked to the side of the house. 

“I wouldn’t bother fighting her or pointing any guns either” came Harlan’s voice, “she’s a six and could have us all on our asses before we’ve had chance to say thank you.”

“What the hell are we saying thank you for?” a female voice snapped.

“Well she didn’t kill him did she?” Harlan replied. 

“There’s still time.” you quipped back “and if he ever puts his hand on another omega, I’ll rip his dick off turn it into a toad and ram it down his throat.”

Harlan chuckled as you sauntered in one of your hands around Ransom’s throat as you pulled him alongside you, your broom in the other and you bag across your body.

You tossed him onto the rug in the fancy hall way.

“He’s bewitched isn’t he?” Harlan asked.

“Why didn’t you ask Zelda or Hilda for help?”

“I wasn’t sure, my grandson is many things, including an asshole, but his behaviour has been more out of control.”

“He’s always been a piece of shit.” Came a voice, you weren’t sure who’s.

“Can you help him?” Came another voice.

“I can.”

“How much witch?” came the voice of Ransom’s father, followed by money being thrown at you.

You huffed and shook your head, turning and leaving. You heard Harlan call someone an idiot as you flew away on your broom.

You were back three days later after Ransom had got handsy with you in the supermarket of all places. You’d left your groceries, grabbed him by his underwear and flown him back via his wedgey and your broom. You tossed him around the garden, blessed the fountain and chucked him in.

Harlan and his nurse had watched from the library window, highly amused, especially as you pulled him out, tapped his face lightly and whispered whatever it was that made the colour drain from his face. 

A week later, albeit still a bit of a dickhead, Ransom had very publicly apologised, paid for any medical bills and damages he’d caused. Much to the town’s amusement he’d also taken to following you around like a lost pup, lots of “I’m sorry” and with random expensive gifts in his hand. Your response was to spin him around and push him in the other direction with your powers. 

“I think he might be trying to court you.” Hilda had giggled.

“Well he can court himself.”

Sure he was attractive but he knew it and he was still a bit of a dickhead. But they was something familiar about his face and the blue of his eyes. 

Harlan had come again to ask for your appearance at Halloween and the white wolf side of you decided it was time to strike a deal.

The agreement was as follows

He was to keep Ransom out your way.

He was to pay you the agreed fee.

He was to pay Zelda and Hilda the same fee.

He went to speak and you could tell from his scent and expression he wasn’t initially going to agrue. 

You explained quickly and assertively that Ransom couldn’t be getting in your way if you were to be ‘working’ of sorts. If that’s what you called parlour tricks and being a token. You were to be paid the going rate and so were Hilda and Zelda as normal. You wouldn’t have a job or roof over your head if it wasn’t for them, and they’d talked you into it (or so you’d told Harlan). You  may have also caught sight of the shop accounts and how limited the rest of the year was income wise. They had an influx of pups and being out of sync because of a war wasn’t their fault. 

“It’s that or nothing” you’d told him firmly, “but you could always go to an agency but you could end up with one of Agatha’s strays.”

You turned and walked away head held high. Harlan had called after you.

“I’ll have the contracts sent over.”

And overall, being a token witch wasn’t that bad after all. Their friends and extended were also rich assholes but you could handle it. Your bank balance was better off, you were healthier with your better quality suppressants but not sleeping in your car was a hard habit to break and it was still often the easy option when hotels didn’t take roamers. 

Ransom had slipped the keys to a new car into your hand as you’d been packing your bags in their guest wing. You told him you couldn’t accept it but he simply closed your hand around the keys, looked at you you with sad eyes and walked away.

You’d attempted that evening to give them to Harlan but he’d explained that material things were their way of apology. He’d followed it by pushing an envelope towards you, after you’d pointed out he’d paid you already and he had nothing to apologise for. He’d told you it was an early Christmas gift. Somewhere to go at Christmas.

He’d never admit it but he’d shed a tear when you’d told him about your childhood. He’d pulled a picture from his office drawer, hidden between paperwork and looked at it fondly. 

“You were right Fi, she’s special. Nearly as special as you.”

The gift in the envelope was a ten days stay in a fancy as hell hotel. You weren’t going home for Christmas and you were completely fine with that.

Meanwhile in Brooklyn...........

It was too loud, everything was too loud. Cars, the subway, Mrs Jones at 32b, the list was endless.

Steve watched as Bucky stirred in the armchair again, his features screwing to a grimace and his surviving arm starting to twitch. Another nightmare. He looked down at the letter in his hand for what was probably the hundredth time.

“With no other surviving family members, you are the the sole and only beneficiary of the estate. Your uncle, Grant Rogers, thus leaves you his properties listed below. The primary being the Brookville farm.”

His attention was pulled to Bucky as he whimpered again in his sleep and he made his way towards him.

He didn’t noticed his phone light up with a message.

Natasha - You know………Clint grew up on a farm

[allanbajon]

I

"The day we discovered a new Light"

It was once a relic keeping the light from dark. Many believed that The Relic is the only way to keep both sides at peace but curiosity peaked the interest of the people to the discovery of something new causing everyone to change the view of their life. The light was always the time for everyone to rise and to start everyone's life, being active, and the time for everyone's hobbies and labor. while on the other hand comes the dark. Silent, peaceful, and gentle. Rhae hates the dark he named it "Night" because once the day starts to fade the black shades from the skies appear. Everyday Rhae feels like the world is stuck in a loop. doing everything the same day by day. He started complaining and venting out to Eugene his childhood friend saying, "Have you ever wondered if there's no magical rock controlling our day?" Eugene replied, "the relic is already there when we were born. i can't imagine our world without it" Rhae didn't answer "But i agree it's pretty boring that we only have day and night here sometimes i think the skies are just a facade Eugene added" Hearing those thoughts it gave Rhae an idea to test the skies but they both need to finish working first. In this world there are many different kinds of roles. Rhae and Eugene patrolls the area securing the safety of the citizens they're called Roamers. The others are farming crops securingand maintaining resources for everyone. The Research Team designs their technology and The Warden is the highest position. After their shift Rhae wanted to discuss something with Eugene he said "Remembered what you said earlier? something about the skies being a fake? i kinda want to test the skies" Eugene replied with a shock thinking that rhae is really taking it seriously "I was just kidding earlier i didn't mean what i've said" Rhae continued to argue persistently. But after an hour of argument Eugene finally gave up. So what do you plan to do then?. Rhae replied "All citizens has always been restricted from going beyond a certain coordinates and im really intrested what's beyond those borders" Hearing the plan Eugene find it convincing so he followed Rhae blindly. The two began to wander into the unknown crossing the borders of the warden, and then as they open their eyes they saw a gentle light slightly warm but the skies are orangey with a mix of yellow, red and feathery clouds. Eugene and Rhae are in awe the skies that they witness are new to them they watched the skies until they remembered why they got there at the first place "It's so pretty" Rhae mumbled and then Eugene agreed, he walked back and forth crossing the warden's borders it is dark their world is under the Night state and then crossed the borders again, he saw the copper beauty of the skies. "Rhae come look at this!" he yelled. Rhae began doing the same comparing the skies outside the border and inside. "It's really like two different worlds" Rhae said. "Does it mean that the warden has been lying to all the people?" Eugene added. "I think we should go back for now, The Researchers will be around here soon." Rhae disagreed, he said "That's perfect we will finally witness what the Researchers and The warden are up to". Eugene is hesitant, "It's dangerous, what if we get caught?" Rhae replied, "Trust me we won't". They both hid under a rubble, after a few minutes of waiting they witnessed the warden and the researchers arriving and starded discussing. but then the warden sensed their presence. "Cease everything, I believe that we're not alone anymore". Eugene looked at Rhae and said "Sure we wont get caught" and then The Warden and his guards positioned themselves leaving no exits. Rhae whispered "Gene hands up and then slowly walk behind, if we cross the borders and then enter at a different angle i dont think they can catch us" Eugene nodded. "Hands up! and No Tricks Trespassers!" The Guards shouted. They both jumped to the borders but then they're no longer in the same world they kept falling.

[sqarletsworldlesswandering]

I have come back for more Eclipsed! AU lore...

... *Ahem* Do starfolks... make more of their own? If so, what do young starfolks look like?

Yep! Sometimes, at least. Starfolk come about in 2 ways - ambient energy coalescing into a star, or two Starfolk deliberately combining their energy. Starfolk from ambient energy and those from deliberate creation look a little different when they first form.

The ambient ones, sometimes called "roaming" starlets, have their stellar core and smaller, thinner versions of their basic abstract forms. They don't have a "full" form at this stage, and usually don't until they grow. They grow by feeding off the ambient energy of their birthplace, sometimes by retreating into their "resting" forms and soaking up energy, or by wandering around and finding points with the highest energy levels. These little ones are more or less in a constant state of "absorbing," but are unable to actually absorb other Stars - like being confined to soft foods as a baby. (Also Resting forms are that thing they do if you kill them but don't absorb). Roamers are typically not sapient, though they can gain it, especially if they imprint on a sapient Starfolk early enough on.

Those created specifically by a pair of Starfolk are usually just called starlets. Creating starlets also requires at least some level of close bond between the Starfolk involved. It's easier the closer the bond is. Conexi Aeterni by far have the easiest time with it - it comes naturally and provides the strongest foundation for the starlet to grow in. Any of the platonic bonds are capable of it, but it's much more difficult, and usually they don't want to anyways. Appearance wise, starlets have their core, then a couple of their supporting abstract shapes, but not the whole form. That form develops as they grow. They do however have a "full" form of sorts all the time, it's just simpler as per their current abstract form. Their abstraction develops in order of necessity, and as groundwork for their full form. As an example, a baby Edda might have only her hands, since she needs those more immediately, then develops her feet once she's old enough to start walking, then her torso as additional support. Also, starlets are pretty darn tiny, and usually the same size regardless of their creators. Starlets will feed off of their parents' energy to grow. Starlets' sapience depends on their parents.

On a somewhat...amusing (?) note, there's a variation somewhere between starlets and roamers, leaning closer to roamers, called flares (working name, not happy with it per se). These happen on accident as the result of fights using high quantities of magic. The flying magic residue from the fight can end up coalescing into a starlet - and that magic residue is technically ambient, but it's also derived from two Starfolk. The tricky thing is, they don't happen consistently. These starlets often have a slightly sharper construction, and a talent for combat regardless of their polarity. Much like roamers, they are perfectly capable of surviving and growing on their own, thankfully, though they will also happily imprint on and grow with either or both of their parents given the opportunity. This imprint or lack thereof is the determining factor on whether or not they develop sapience.

Now, in the Old World, flares barely happened at all, and on the very rare occasion they did, both parties usually took one look and decided to make peace to take care of the starlet. Flares developed a folklore of being the universes way of telling two people to make peace, albeit unconventionally.

In the present Conflict, the creation of flares significantly increased ad has effectively replaced deliberate creation. In the Conflict, Starfolk were robbed of their ability to want or have both relational bonds and starlets. The only exception is if a Starfolk regains sapience.

[teneluxtales]

The New Trollge Incident

"Finally, after several years of failed experiments, my success shall be known," Dr. Smith said, gathering several vails of DNA. Dr. Ortiz, Dr. Smith's colleague, was hesitant as always. It was 12 years since the first experiment, and colleagues were tired of the constant failure and rejection. "Dr. Smith, don't you think it's time to end the project, I mean, the first one was a success before the accident. That should enough to just be recorded" he asked, trying to reason with him. "Don't try to talk me out of it, I know it will work this time" Dr. Smith shouted, fumbling for the door.

Ever since the Aurora Woods incident, where a humanoid being was hunted for its DNA, Dr. Smith was focused, no, infatuated, with this creature, known as the Trollge. He requested various samples of DNA from these Trollge, hoping to find a way to control the corruption of the former humans and/or Trollfaces.

12 years before, he was able to succeed the first time to create a hybrid, only for her to be shredded by mistake. Since then, he was obsessed with creating a new hybrid, similar to the first attempt. A variety of Trollge DNA, mixed with human DNA, was harvested from a corpse sent for the project. However, after years, they chose bodies, already past the death date for longer harvesting. That way, the experiment can last longer without any worries of decay.

Back in the lab, Dr. Smith put all of his supplies on the table, going back for the last piece for his experiment. An organ, due to its rotting nature, was put to use for his experiment. They were used to build up the DNA by identifying the human body. This time, he chose the human heart, hoping to have a better way to build the body if successful. He brought back the fresh heart, sitting on the metal tray, ready to be injected. "6% Tall man DNA, 5% Aurora DNA, 3% Nature's Corruption, 7% Weeping God, 5% Mystery Man, 4% Liminal Roamer, and finally 10% of Legion Trollge" he listed, injecting each amount of DNA into the heart. He was careful on to let any spill, reaching for the sample of Human DNA, labeled A.L. "Might I say, Mr. Lewis, as soon as they're in this world, they'll hear wonderous things about you" Dr. Smith said, sounding grateful for the deceased. "And now, the final puzzle piece," he said, withdrawing a syringe full of cells. "60% Human DNA" he commented finally emptying the syringe into the organ.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Dr. Smith staggered back, watching as the organ twitched and convulsed. It was alive, beating as he watched. After a minute, it twitched more violently, strands of flesh blooming as it began to roll off the table. Dr. Smith's back was against the wall, planning to book it if another attack was targeted on him. Inhuman screeching rang out, piercing his ears painfully. He watched as tendrils of flesh convulsed as the screeching continues. That was when everything stopped, the tendrils, the screeching, everything. He was hesitant, not knowing if to run or to check on the specimen. He paused, trying to hear any sign of it alive.

(Baby Crying)

He was proven right. It had finally worked.