#would love to see more dedicated shipping scholars' takes

[il3x]

pspsps hand jumper shippers

[hazelkjt]

OC Introductory Post

Hello, and thank you for stopping by my blog! I'm Hazel and this is my main character for everything FFXIV related, from raiding to rp'ing. My pronouns are he/him, I'm an early 20's college student still trying to figure out what to do with my life, but I'm getting there!

I had mentioned this before but I'll reiterate it here: this blog was originally just for my main FFXIV OC, Hazel Kha, but because trying to manage multiple blogs was pushing me away from doing anything with these character I'm consolidating this one to have all of my OCs on it rather than just one. Those old blogs will remain up to keep the content from disappearing but I will not be utilizing them anymore. I'm sorry if you followed me here exclusively for the Hazel stuff, she will still be the main focus of most of my posts here but there will be others posted up here and there.

I'm situated on Zalera (Crystal) and spend most of my time either raiding or taking GPose shots, but regardless I look forward to seeing everyone's creativity here on the Tumbles.

Anyways, onto the intro bits to them all below the Read More

Hazel Kha

Age: 24

Race: Xaela Au Ra

Height: 6'4"/193cm

Nameday: 25th Sun of the First Umbral Moon (February 22nd)

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Sexuality: Bisexual

A young hunter and warrior of the Kha tribe, Hazel is a proud daughter of the Azim Steppe who has always longed to see more, to do more. Through her mother's collection of foreign books and literature she came to daydream and wonder of the lands beyond the Steppe. Her desire for adventure high a fever pitch when coming into possession of a wandering samurai's soul crystal, and all the memories and knowledge it contained. She would hold on to the stone dearly for years, until one fateful day she had a chance encounter of a lifetime and through it found her way across the waters to Eorzea. After arriving she found herself under the employment of the Sharlayan scholar Nolanel Corbeaux, working as both research assistant and hired hand to help defend against threats. Not long after Hazel finds herself under the tutelage of Lia Amelune of Ishgard, retired Dragoon and head of her own noble house. Extremely curious and adventurous by nature, Hazel's love of the unknown is matched only by her competitiveness. Idealistic and prideful, Hazel takes to each new day with excitement and wonder in her eye.

Claire Ashe (Claire Bas Syndris)

Age: 29

Race: Garlean

Height: 6'2"/188cm

Nameday: 17th Sun of the Third Astral Moon (May 17th)

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Sexuality: Lesbian

A pureblooded Garlean who spent most of her childhood and teenage years living in Ala Mhigo under Garlean occupation. She grew up befriending many of the Ala Mhigan children there without her parents knowing. After her two closest friends were beaten to death in the streets, Claire revoked her family name and fled the city, no longer disillusioned by the Garlean propaganda she was fed her entire life. She traveled to Ul'dah and came into contact with the Lemures, where she was then trained by Drusilla as a Reaper. With her training and pact with the Voidsent Sidian, Claire aided in the revolution to liberate Ala Mhigo from Garlean control. She now works aboard the merchant ship The Enduring Deeds as a deckhand and the ship's main cook. She wears a bandana at all times to hide her third eye, paranoid over the general consensus most people have of Garleans. She puts up a cold and harsh exterior, which as of this point might not be as much of an act anymore, but underneath is a truly kind soul afraid of being hurt and hurting others just from existing.

Derrinall Evramont

Age: 33 (physically)

Race: Duskwight Elezen (also Ashkin/Undead)

Height: 6'7"/200.6cm

Nameday: 9th Sun of the First Astral Moon (January 9th)

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Sexuality: Pansexual

Derrinall Evramont originally lived during the final years of Gelmorra. His family were that of knights, dedicated to serving the people, though unfortunately his life was not lost in service of this oath. Sickness claimed him a few years before the total fall of Gelmorra, his soul adrift yet still holding strong to his memory and sense of self for centuries...that is, until he was brought back to the star for reasons he did not know. When he awoke again he wandered the ruins of the crypt he was buried in, eventually stumbling upon two he would learn to be kindred spirits, in a way. The two strangers helped him to recover even as he kept his personal information close to his chest, eventually pointing him to work and housing in Ishgard. He found work under Lia Amelune, both as house servant and a member of the House's ranks of knights. Derrinall's previous experience as a knight of Gelmorra saw him quickly rise through the ranks to become Captain, a title he holds with pride and only the occasional harassment of the Lady he serves.

E'venna Zekiel

Age: 22

Race: Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te

Height: 5'4"/162cm

Nameday: 3rd Sun of the Sixth Astral Moon (November 3rd)

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Sexuality: Straight

E'venna Zekiel is the eldest daughter of five children. After her father was tempered by Ifrit and subsequently killed, she took it upon herself to help her mother care for her younger siblings, specifically her triplet younger sisters. It wasn't an easy road to get where she and her family are now, especially in a place such as Ul'dah. E'venna began her "career" in back alley fights, as she had always been scrappy in a brawl. After getting into an impromptu fight outside the Pugilist's Guild she was offered membership, and upon joining took it upon herself to partake in Coliseum matches. The shine of her golden hair is matched only by her bright smile and optimistic personality. Combined with her unorthodox and playful fighting style in matches and soon E'venna had earned her the nickname "The Dancing Coeurl" from dedicated fans of her's. Her tournament winnings are a major boon to the family, with it they are able to put the three youngest through a formal education. Her family members almost all strongly disapprove of E'venna's line of work she can't imagine herself doing anything but. She's found her place, and that's in the ring.

Exploding Goldfish

Age: 36

Race: Hellsguard Roegadyn

Height: 7'2"/218cm

Nameday: 30th Sun of the Third Umbral Moon (June 28th)

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Sexuality: AroAce

Exploding Goldfish, simply known as "Fish" by most everyone, was born to a family of miners in Uldah. Throughout his life he was surrounded by heavy machinery, sparking a lifelong love of machines and inventing. His youth was spent learning everything he could about technology. His studies eventually paid off and he scored the job of his dreams working as part of Garlond Ironworks...for a while. An accident during a project cost Fish partial vision in his left eye and his position in the company. Scarred and humiliated, he drifted for months before finally finding secure work and pay at Wolves' Den Pier. Fish spent his time maintaining the machines used in "Rival Wings" competitions, and when he wasn't working on repairs he was drowning his self-pity in alcohol. It wasn't all for nothing, however. While at Wolves' Den, Fish chanced upon meeting a scrawny Viera living under the pier; Qara Wen. It took some coaxing but eventually Fish was able to befriend him, and over time that friendship evolved into brotherhood. And so when Fish was recruited to join the merchant ship The Enduring Deeds, his one request was that Qara be welcomed aboard as well.

Perseverance "Percy" Kha

Age: 9

Race: Midlander Hyur

Height: 4'0"/122cm

Nameday: 3rd Sun of the Second Astral Moon (March 3rd)

Gender: Female (She/Her)

A certain time, and a certain place...where a certain young spark was chosen to light the way. It is in this reality that a young girl lost everything. Her family was killed, and even her memory of them were taken from her. She was rescued from the same fate as her mother and father by the Warrior of Light, Hazel Kha. With no one else left alive to raise the child Hazel became Percy's guardian, and slowly accepted her place as the child's new mother figure. Hazel has been slowly acclimating the young girl to her new life, hoping to be able to deliver the childhood she deserves. Perseverance has grown to love reading, a pastime brought about by Hazel's own love of literature. Thanks to her favorite genre being heroic fantasy and also viewing her new mother as a larger than life hero, Percy has become fascinated with the idea of being a hero herself once she grows older. She is soft spoken, quiet, and quite blunt when she does speak, but Percy does have a good heart. What the future holds for her only time will tell, but thanks to the love of her new family, Perseverance's future is shining bright.

Lanwa Carmine

Age: 19

Race: Hhetsarro Miqo’te

Height: 5'0"/152.5cm

Nameday: 2nd Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon (December 2nd)

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Sexuality: Polyamorous Pansexual

Growing up in the lap of luxury, Lanwa had always just wanted excitement in her life. Her childhood was one of privilege and excess, but it wasn’t ever enough to satisfy her. Quite the rebellious child growing up, Lanwa joined a street gang when she was 15. There she caused a commotion for the people around, but it wasn’t quite what she felt she wanted in life. Eventually this led to her leaving the gang and taking a chance as an Air-Wheeler Racer, joining the pro circuit at only 17 summers old. Lanwa quickly became a top contender in the races, earning the nickname “The Crimson Chaser” thanks to her red bike and racing suit. Prideful, competitive, and narcissistic, Lanwa relishes in her newfound fame and fans, alongside the thrill the life-threatening races provide her. But even after finding where she wished to go in her life, there remains a slight sense of something still missing in her life…something she can’t quite explain…

[middleofnowhere92]

Ranking all ATLA Villains/Antagonists from worst to best (by someone who loves villains)

This post was inspired by this ask 

Warning: I swear quite a bit in this post and I’m a dumbass, not an ATLA scholar, so take this with a grain of salt. Also I have no idea wtf my ranking criteria was. I assigned arbitrary and meaningless points like Dumbledore giving all the points to Gryffindor at the end of the year. 

Iroh

 I have a secret for you...Iroh is an antagonist.... Say it with me... Iroh is an antagonist. For the people in the back, IROH IS AN ANTAGONIST. He’s not particularly good at at it, but he belongs on this list. Primary reason being, his siege on Ba Sing Se, which was a major battle in the 100 year war and all the other things he did in the war to become a general. If he was good at being a villain, he would at least have the decency to conquer the city, but as Ozai points out, Iroh excels at tea and failure. When we see Iroh in Book 1, He’s a very chill antagonist for the same reason a lot of our other antagonists are (June, the Yuyan Archers, Combustion man etc)-they are helping a villain achieve their goal. In Iroh’s case, he does help Zuko in many ways ( like sneaking him onto Zhao’s ship) and these in turn help Zuko get closer to his goal of capturing Aang. I love Iroh as a character, but he’s not good at being an antagonist, which is why he is ranked the worst. 

Circus Trainer

This man is straight up, evil. I like villains, but I do not like this man. He’s cruel and not in a fun way, which is why he’s near the bottom of the list. The whole point of being a villain is to be cool and do bad things, but he’s not even a little fun to watch. He’s the least interesting to look at... 

Yon Rha

This man is a coward. Like how did he lead the Southern Raiders? He went soft when he got old. He was more savage back in the day. Like this man is a firebender, but he cowers from Zuko before Katara even pops up. He needs to grow a pair. Like Katara said man is pa-thet-ic. 

The Rough Rhinos (ignoring the comics)

They get points for creating my favorite antagonist, Jet. But the first time we see these clowns in the show, the gang just rides away on Appa, easily avoiding them. And then the gang easily defeats them in their next run in. These clowns are good at destroying things, but not really fighting or pursuing others. 

Ozai

I expected more from this man. He was hyped up for three seasons and I just didn’t feel like he was smart enough to be the bad guy for the whole ass show.  The man clearly doesn’t think for himself or show up throughout the series doing  menacing things. The final agni kai overshadowed Ozai and Aang’s showdown. That’s the theme, Azula outshines a grown man as the star villain of the show. He does get some points for his fashion and flair for the dramatic. 

Mai's Uncle (Boiling Rock Warden)

This man, is a dumbass with the reflexes of a sloth. Suki overpowered him in 2 seconds flat. How is this grown man getting defeated by a little nugget like Suki? She was only holding his wrist. He could have just kicked her? Like you are a prison warden, look alive man! And he should have captured Zuko’s little ass and sent him right over to Ozai to get some street cred, but instead he just gets pissed cause Zuko broke up with Mai? First lesson in being a villain/antagonist- power over everything (including family). He does get points for ordering them to cut the line. That’s straight savage. 

Xin Fu and Yu

Toph gets it right, these are two dunderheads. How did they not hear Toph bending metal? They react almost as slowly as the Boiling Rock Warden, letting Toph easily overtake them. They are two skilled benders and they didn’t even stand a chance. 

General Fong

This man gets points for being a bat shit crazy. And I think he’s one of the first non fire nation antagonists we see in the show, so points for him. He’s an underrated antagonist. He does cool bending and his emotional manipulation to get Aang into the Avatar state is A+ villain work. 

Azulon

Azulon gets villain points for keeping the war going. He didn’t fuck it up like Ozai. But Azulon gets his villainness handed to him on a platter, he didn’t really do much, besides maintain status quo. We do get the scene where Ozai asks for the throne. But I don’t think Azulon assumed Ozai was going to kill Zuko. Azulon was trying to make a point, that Ozai’s request was absurd, but he obviously didn’t know Ozai well enough...

Koh

Koh almost didn’t make the list. I don’t really consider him to be an antagonist. Aang came to him asking for information and Koh was trying to do what he does..steal faces. He was just vibing. I included him on this list, because he antagonized us (the viewers). Dude is easily the most terrifying part of the show. 

Ghashiun

He muzzled Appa! He’s not ranked high on this list, because he didn’t know Appa was Aang’s so he wasn’t intentionally trying to fuck with the Avatar. I do like the sandbenders as a whole. They just run around causing chaos with their cool bending. This character, however, loses points, because when he is confronted about stealing Appa, he gets defensive and tries to lie. If you do something bad, at least have the balls to own up to it. 

Wan Shi Tong

Gets points for his flair for the dramatic a la Ozai. I did like Wan Shi Tong’s logic around not giving the gaang information: “You think you're the first person to believe their war was justified?!” He had more brain cells than some of our other villains/antagonists, but was also dumb too? Sokka pretty easily outsmarted him. This Spirit has been alive forever, he shouldn’t be outsmarted by a child. 

The Old Man

Oooof. I almost put him in the number one spot tbh. He did us and Haru so dirty. Like he could have died,but he turned in the person that saved him??? He gets points for shock value and pettiness. I personally think Jet should take him out...

June

June gets points for being a bad bitch. I like her vibe. She’ll do anything as long as you’re paying her the right price and I can respect that. She isn’t higher on the list, because she is executing someone else’s plan, not her own. 

The Yuyan Archers

Speaking of bad bitches, the Yuyan Archers are so cool and I wish they got more screen time! We see very few antagonists that can keep up with Aang the way that this group does. They add a bit of spice and a different flavor to what we know about Fire Nation fighting styles, which I approve of. I hope we see more of them in future ATLA projects. They aren’t higher up, because they are still doing someone else’s bidding. If they had their own leader and their own agenda, that would be some cool shit. 

Combustion Man

This man gets points for giving the gaang a lot of trouble. As viewers, we really worry about whether they will be able to defeat him. I like that he has a different style of bending, which in and of itself is terrifying. He still doesn’t make it up higher on the list, because he’s still doing someone else’s (Zuko’s) bidding.

Rig Warden

On second thought, I may have him ranked a little too high. But oh well, fuck it. He gets many many points for being voiced by George Takei. This man also gets points for having general villain swag. He is sassy and I am here for it. He’s highly effective at crushing the souls of the Earthbenders on the rig. Also, he does not stutter when Haru throws those rocks at him.Came at him full force which is what all the other himbos on this list should have been doing when these children played them! He outright told Katara he was gonna kill her “You’re one mistake away from dying where you stand.” Loses points for begging as he’s dragged off the rig. Go down with some dignity!

The Southern Raiders

So the Southern Raiders get ranked separately from Yon Rha, because he led them towards the end of their conquest. I think they started under Sozin’s reign. This group gets ranked fairly high, because they were very effective at their task. They came, they saw, they decimated-leaving the SWT defenseless and barely able to sustain itself. 

Mai

I like Mai and wish I could rank her higher. I like her knives, they are very cool form of defense that was unique to her. I also love how she just immediately flung arrows at Aang, no hesitation. She does get style points, her aesthetic is everything. Her one liners are pretty funny, “You’re so colorful, you’re making me nauseous.”  She lacks in her commitment. Anytime anything inconveniences her she’s just like eh, no thanks. Hardcore antagonists need to be have some dedication to their cause, which Mai does not.  I feel like she would eventually run out of weapons in a longer battle, which would be a big issue for her. 

Long Feng

Gets instant points for villain swag, creepy vibe and sass. This man kept news of a whole war from Ba Sing Se, even though the city was filled with refugees? Long Feng had his work cut out for him. He loses points, because he lets the children get away with too much. He should have locked down Aaang and co immediately, because they were trouble as soon as they rolled up. Also, he should have fought Azula. He let a fourteen year old take his whole career away. He was never even a player.

Sozin

Sozin gets a  large amount of hypothetical points from being the one to start it all. He’s the one who initiated the 100 year war. He did not play around. He used that comet to its maximum potential. Also he has a dragon, which is fucking cool. He gets bad bitch points for leaving Roku on the exploding island. Like that’s a power move right there. He wiped out the air nomads and invaded the Southern Water Tribe, which is why his successors  are ranked much lower on the list. They really didn’t do shit.

Hama

Gets points for being a waterbender, which is something cool that we hadn’t seen in a villain yet. She also gets points for executing her own deranged agenda. I would love to see her and Jet link up, cause that would have been chaos. She also gets heaps of points for inventing bloodbending. Many of the villains of this list can barely think and homegirl has big brain energy. She is cunning and quick, like when she utilizes Sokka and Aang to attack Katara. I like her general bruja (witch) vibes. She gets more points because she does not motherfucking stutter when Katara figures her out, she just starts bloodbending immediately. She really enjoys her power and I can’t blame her for it. She’s a baddie and she knows it. More points for Hama, because she gets Katara to carry on her legacy (whether she wants to or not) and goes off to jail with her dignity. She’s an all-star villain and I love to see it. She loses a few points, because her bloodbending is limited to the full moon, but she still has her waterbending which is terrifying enough...

Dai Li

Like the rig warden, I probably ranked these himbos too high, but I love them as henchmen. Their bending is amazing, they are sneaky and they can brainwash you? Like fuck me up man. They really are just a joy to watch and their betrayal of Long Feng is so unexpected. This group really creates the creepy/ominous aesthetic the creators were going for in Ba Sing Se. Don’t think their bending is good? They one upped Toph and almost had her, but Jet saved her at the last second. 

Zhao

I feel like Zhao’s characterization is inconsistent (sometimes he has a bad temper, sometimes he doesn’t?) which makes him hard to rank, but let’s do it anyway. He gets points for being voiced by the guy that played Lucius Malfoy, like yaaas work that Slytherin aesthetic. Gets points for using the Yuyan Archers. Loses a lot of points in his fight with Aang, like that child was obviously baiting him. He has a lot of ambition and actually has to work to his rise to power, which he obviously relishes. He’s the perfect antagonist for Zuko. He accomplished his goal of frying the fish/moon and he actually captures Aang. I think the writers added in his hot temper later on, because they realized he was too competent and had to give him a flaw. 

Zuko

Ohhh my morally confused prince, Where do we even start? Zuko gets a lot of points for his sheer determination. I would love to see an unhinged Zuko without Iroh. Zuko’s tenacity and unpredictability make him a fantastic antagonist. Iroh and Azula try to control Zuko, but they never really know what he’s gonna do next and neither do we as the viewers. He’s near the top of the list, because even with so many struggles he kept Aang on the run for two seasons. I like that he actually struggled to be good. He obviously loses points for joining the good guys, but we still love him. 

Jet

Speaking of morally grey, cue up Jet’s theme music. He gets instant points for swag and cool swords. Like the Yuyan archers, Jet is one of the few antagonists we see that can keep up with Aang. Like Zuko, Jet’s dedication to his cause get him high on this list, because he will defeat the Fire Nation at any cause. The creators lose points for being cowards and killing him off. We saw plenty of other people (Sokka) get hit with similar rocks and not die. Jet is a fantastic antagonist with a backstory that the audience can sympathize with. He loses points for not being more versatile in his tactics. I’ve written more on this here. 

Ty Lee

Katara is terrified of her, do I need to elaborate? Ty Lee by far has the scariest skill set on the show. It’s too easy for people to underestimate her. Katara and Suki make that mistake once and then never do it again. Like Toph, Ty Lee knows to wait for the right time to strike, making her highly effective at taking out our favorite benders and whole groups of benders (The Terra Team). Her betrayal of Azula is ICONIC and unexpected, but as always, Ty Lee knows just the right time to strike. I think Ty and Mai were perfectly capable of getting away at the Boiling Rock and I’m disappointed they were captured so easily. 

Azula

Look down, you’re talking to your highness. Can’t see her? She’s the reason for your blindness. 

To the surprise of absolutely no one, Azula is the baddest bitch in the game. PERIODT. She is ruthless, cunning and powerful. Her lightning bending is at a whole other level. She is the smartest person on this list. She takes Ba Sing Se from the inside out, utilizes the Da Li perfectly and has antagonized Zuko from the beginning. As far as I’m concerned, she was made to be Firelord. 

[yamayuandadu]

For the character breakdown, I’d love to see hadad, anat, shapash, yam, mot, athtar, kothkar and khasis... really any of the ugaritic pantheon, of course you don’t have to do all of them >.<, I’d just love to see your hot takes

I shall rise up to the challenge! I’m the only person on this site obsessed with Ugarit as far as I can tell... I covered everyone you asked for plus Ashtart and Yarikh. As much as I like burrowing through jstor and academia edu and persee and so on, I kind of wish there were more people approaching Ugaritic, Mesopotamian, Hittite etc. myths the way many do with Greek ones tbh - sometimes i’d just like to see which figures people think would be into gossiping and so on or which tacky modern fashion they think suits them equally as much as I want to find out if Yarikh’s portrayal in Ugaritic poetry owes more to Nanna/Sin or to the Hittite moon god. ALSO as far as this sort of light hearted takes go, there are two japanese artists on twitter who draw Baal cycle fanart: here and here.

Hadad: How I feel about this character: one of my fave mythical protagonist. I think I genuinely only like Inanna more. Going from a very relatable desire to get his own house to triumph over death is quite the journey. The relative powerlessness many interpreters point out is interesting, too - the fact he mostly gets somewhere because of allies and because even if El was the king of gods, Hadad’s attributes made him the king of people’s hearts arguably, so he has to win against overwheming odds. All the people I ship romantically with this character: Anat, Ashtart/Astarte/however we transcribe her name this week... Kothar? My non-romantic OTP for this character: given the Seth-Baal equation in Egypt and the uncertaininty over whether Astarte papyrus is about Seth or Baal under Seth’s name it’s funny to imagine them as friends. Also I’ll talk about it more underneath but since Dagan was a god with similar purposes further inland (and is attested earlier iirc) and Ugaritic texts - even though they rarely feature him - call him Hadad’s father - it would be cute to assume he also taught Hadad everything. My unpopular opinion about this character: I’m a Dagan parentage truther against all odds. It was the norm outside Ugarit! I think “Dagan isn’t in Ugaritic myths because they take place in Ugarit but people thought Dagan lives further inland in Tuttul based on prayers etc.” is enough to explain his absence from myths, and also note that in the epic Baal is “Dagan’s son” even when he’s at a low point (ex. when Yam demands he gives up his freedom or when he’s dead) and only El’s and Asherah’s son when he’s victorious for the most part (ex. during palace construction) - imo this makes it plausible that Dagan is his real dad and El and Athirat are only his parents in the way vassal rulers called emperors fathers. Likewise I think any references to siblings can be interpreted in the light of ex. kings of Ugarit calling kings of Carchemish or Alashiya brothers. One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I really like how corny the Hittite/Hurrian storm god cycle is with Kumarbi constaly raising new challengers to attack Kummiya and dethrone Teshub/Tarhunna, I actually wish the Ugaritic one was longer too via a similar plot device. Also I wish Dagan actually appeared in myths alongside his son - Noga Ayali-Darshan had a theory he was in some oral tradition predating Baal cycle as the god announcing Yam demands a tribute since in Hurrian “Song of the sea” and in Egyptian “Astarte papyrus” a grain deity does this but a possible reconstruction isn’t much... Anat How I feel about this character: well, she’s not Inanna, but she’s still pretty good. I mostly like the parts of the Baal narrative which show her unpredictable character, like her probable parents being afraid of her, listing various never shown enemies she vanquished, or Mot’s death. Aqhat myth doesn’t interest me much. That myth fragment where she and Ashtart pity Yarikh because other gods treat him poorly is interesting, too. All the people I ship romantically with this character: Baal, Ashtart, that’s it I think. My non-romantic OTP for this character: she seems to get along really well with Shapash during the segment of the Baal cycle where Baal is dead. My unpopular opinion about this character: I really hate the speculation popular among bible scholars which amounts to making her, Ashtart and Athirat interchangeable to justify her irrelevance in the iron age. One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: honestly? I wish an “Anat cycle” existed. She pretty clearly had a fair share of own adventures considering Baal enlists her help on the account of past accomplishments. Yam How I feel about this character: out of all antagonists in the basic middle eastern “storm god vs sea” narratives I think he has the most fun personality - Hedammu is barely a “character” and Tiamat lacks the more human dimension Yam has. All the people I ship romantically with this character: nobody, he has to move past the Astarte papyrus characterization and learn some respect for that smh My non-romantic OTP for this character: his nameless rude messenger who refused to bow down when speaking to the assembly of the gods My unpopular opinion about this character: contary to what this (very good) paper says, the Yam battle is more thrilling than the Mot one - the strength of the Mot part of the narrative comes from the visceral descriptions of Anat’s emotions but Mot is a flat villain compared to Yam. One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: he had a seemingly positive role in cult and there are 13 known people with Yam theophoric names (out of 6000 or so people from Ugarit known by name) so I sort of wonder if there’s some lost myth where he’s the hero or something. Mot How I feel about this character: if nothing else, feeling offended by being offered bread and wine instead of corpses is pretty funny and a great introduction. And the pathetic attempt at a comeback shut down by Shapash is All the people I ship romantically with this character: unshippable by design tbh. My non-romantic OTP for this character: if the theory about Horon - the god from the “anti-snakebite text” and the “may horon crack your skull” curse - being a cthtonic god too - just a generally benign one - is true I think they could have a lot of comedic potential. My unpopular opinion about this character: I don’t understand where the idea of a nonexistent myth about Mot kidnapping Shapash and Yarikh comes from and I wish it wasn’t all over the place online. One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: some more detailed description of the afterlife - Mot, rephaim, Horon if he really lives there - would be useful... Shapash How I feel about this character: she seems severly... underrated? There are maybe two papers about her (and one underlines the fact there isn’t much research on her) and yet she’s the second most prominent goddess in the Baal cycle AND has her own narrative in the anti-snakebite texts! She might actually be more remarkable than her Mesopotamian counterpart - with all due respect for Utu/Shamash, in myths he’s the boring sibling between himself and Inanna/Ishtar... All the people I ship romantically with this character: I don’t have any real ideas, some papers assume she and Horon were a thing but this is disputable and Horon is pretty nebulous himself... My non-romantic OTP for this character: “Kothar - your close friend!” from that one hymn has that covered. Since she’s basically a divine herald perhaps they travel together? My unpopular opinion about this character: I suspect the reason why she isn’t studied more is because many researchers are stuck with some sort of false “good mother goddess - evil sex goddess” dichotomy of ancient middle eastern religion and while you can force Athirat, Anat and Ashtart into these roles, Shapash with her aura of a divine equivalent of a mundane earthly official doesn’t fit into it and as such is ignored. One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I said I hate the false Mot myth spreading online but I actually do wish there was a myth or at least a cult text of some sort showing what sort of relation existed between her and Yarikh - safe to say it didn’t mirror Shamash and Sin... Kothar-wa-Khasis How I feel about this character: huge fan of artisan gods and he seems genuinely nice. One of my Ugaritic b-list favorites. I like that he’s a reneissance man - armorer, architect, even a musician... The theory that he was developed based on Ptah since Memphis had a large foreign population is great. All the people I ship romantically with this character: Baal sort of? I imagine Baal is actually relatively knowledgeable about architecture given the length of the window debate in the Baal cycle... My non-romantic OTP for this character: Shapash, as I said earlier. My unpopular opinion about this character: based on the tale of King Keret some researchers argue he’s meant to be ugly like Greek Haephestus, but since I like the Ptah theory and his appearance isn’t described elsewhere AND King Keret might be satire where everyone is their worst self possible, I prefer to imagine him as handsome One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: supposedly from Caphtor and yet we never see Caphtor (Crete) in Ugaritic myths... come on, ancient scribes, surely someone went there? Maybe even recorded some proper Minoan myths? Ashtart How I feel about this character: she’s my favorite Ugaritic figure of limited relevance. An Ishtar/Inanna equivalent who seemingly curses other gods and presides over political pacts is a pretty solid premise! And it’s funny she rebukes Baal seemingly for insufficient dedication in battle. I wonder if the Egyptian fragment which implies Yam acted lecherous towards her is a factor in this tbh. Perhaps an earlier oral tradition had both these elements...? All the people I ship romantically with this character: Baal (her title is “face of baal”/”of the name of baal”, c’mon...), Anat (almost always listed together!) My non-romantic OTP for this character: Keret curses his son with a formula invoking both Horon and her so perhaps that’s who she’s learning curses from. My unpopular opinion about this character: I hate that “Astarte is Asherah” is widespread just because people want to defend the historicity of the biblical Jezebel narrative which probably even the biblical compilersdidn’t view as historical. One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I wish she didn’t vanish from the Baal cycle after Yam’s defeat :C Attar How I feel about this character: this sure is... a guy. He’s so pathetic in the Baal cycle it’s hard to even see him as an antagonist - sorry, Handbook of Ugaritic Studies... All the people I ship romantically with this character: nobody, Shapash points out he’s single as the reason why he can’t rule and i don’t think that changes in any subsequent texts? But then Marriage of Nikkal and Yarikh iirc mentions he has a daughter... My non-romantic OTP for this character: again, nobody. My unpopular opinion about this character: he’s actually a pretty vital part of the Baal cycle and the fact he gives up on own accord makes him more interesting than the other “failed god” in a similar narrative, Ashtabi. One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: a god with the same name was prominent in present day Yemen so I guess finding some direct connection would be nice - it fits with him leaving to “rule elsewhere” in the myth! Yarikh How I feel about this character: he’s so pitiful in the fragment which compares him to a dog begging for scraps... His main myth is pretty good too, tbh it’s the best middle eastern marriage myth imo - I actually don’t care for Dumuzi much, but Yarikh is cool. All the people I ship romantically with this character: only Nikkal-wa-Ib My non-romantic OTP for this character: given his mistreatment and Nikkal’s father(?) saying he could be a son in law of Baal I assume that in some unknown texts they must have been allies. Note that the Hittite storm god has the sun and moon gods acting as his metaphorical eyes warning him against Kumarbi’s new plots in song of Ullikummi. Also I assume Anat and Ashtart must consider him a friend given how they help him when nobody else does? All around he feels like a god in Baal’s orbit even though we have 0 direct proof for it. My unpopular opinion about this character: I think trying to correct him to Nanna is a doomed endeavor tbh. Their wives have similar names but Yarikh doesn’t give the impression of a “Father of gods” type deity in what little we know about him. One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: more myths. None we know show him as the moon even though it’s literally his name! I am afraid I don’t have anything interesting to say about El and Athirat. Handbook of Ugaritic Studies has an amazing El summary that I generally stick to, I can post a cap if you are interested.

[the-siren-and-the-sailor]

A story written by me and my little brother!

THIS TOOK MONTHS! INTERACTIONS, ESPECIALLY REBLOGS, ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!

“Now, hold it at an angle… there, that is perfect. You are a natural, Mal gein,” the woman helped her son adjust his hands, so that his dagger was properly positioned on the sharpening stone. She had a sword in her own hand, and used it to further demonstrate the way it was done.

He slowly turned the tiny blade from side to side, his eyes fully trained on it in childish wonder. Sparks flew off the wheel haphazardly and Spear giggled at the flashy sight. His mother, however, looked after him worriedly. She was not surprised when his finger slipped and nicked the blade, quickly snatching a bandage as he began to cry.

She gently shushed him, taking his hand and wrapping it in the cloth. He started apologizing through tears, but she once again quieted him.

“It’s alright, mal kendov, there is no shame in pain. That is why the gods gave us loved ones. To unify us and to lift one another up. Never forget this.”

~*~

Iýa looked the sleeping Daphne over from atop her starry perch with pity. “Struck by lightning at sea, I’m afraid. You were right to bring her here, Leonora. Let me see what I can do…” With this, she held Daphne and ran a glowing hand over her scales. The blistering burn slowly began to melt away, and Daphne’s eyes fluttered open.

Upon recognizing her surroundings, she squirmed in her mother’s arms and began to cry. She didn’t know why she was crying, exactly. Perhaps it was the way her sister had told on her mistake, or the way her mother looked at her regardless.

Either way, Iýa held her through every moment of it, crooning a lullaby in her ear and assuring her she was safe and loved. And whether Daphne believed it or not, it was the truth.

~*~

Trouble had begun to brew in the east, and the envy of the first man blew the growing storm westward. He stole a star from the Fair Folk’s skies, a great blasphemy against them and their Goddess of the sparkling Night.

While Asem was powerful to an egregious degree, the Fae still felt it necessary to push back against the man’s arrogance. This led them to go to their Goddess and make a wish.

But while the crown of Asem began to fracture his family and kingdom, the Fae’s wish had already been set in motion. Stories began to fly of monsters in the woods beyond the Faerie trading ports. Sailors would return, describing massive men as tall as trees, covered with midnight fur.

Those that knew waited with baited breath. Asem’s sin had brought him to justice all on its own, and yet the beasts made to destroy him already existed. The Fae only hoped to now hide these frightful children they had created…

~*~

Daphne sneakily slipped behind a pillar of sandstone, warily watching her back. Out of the corner of her eye, a pale pink fin darted out of view. Caught.

She would’ve laughed if it weren’t for the pressing need to not be detected. But did that poor pallid mergirl think she was being secretive in her attempts to win the match? The princess certainly hoped not, for the girl’s sake. In any case, she tapped her hand against the wall, and an icy open clip appeared around it.

With this, she allowed herself to let slip a quiet giggle and darted away behind another pillar. She coiled herself around it and promptly turned herself into pure water, so that she was effectively invisible.

Just as she had hoped, the pinky girl swam around the pillar, and was disappointed to find the princess wasn’t there. Daphne flicked her wrist, causing the clasp to snap around the girl’s tail, trapping her and making her yelp.

Revealing herself, Daphne resumed her tail, cackled like a witch, a shot ahead to claim the final prize. She snatched the flag, waving it excitedly to show off to her fellow competitors. They swam out from their hiding places, arms crossed and brows furrowed, and threw joking insults her way.

“How do you keep doing it, you wench, you?” One of them, Marina, snipped lightheartedly.

“I guess I’m just better than the lot of you,” Daphne quipped smugly.

With this, they giggled, laughed and talked, as they made their way back to their dwelling place in a cave nearby. When there, Marina and the pink tailed girl pulled Daphne into a private room to talk.

“What’s this about, ladies?” she said with slight apprehension.

“Well, we’ve been thinking. And, we figure you have the most experience with the outside world…”

“We didn’t want to send someone with anything less. And since these ‘Children of the Night’ are so out of control, even now, we thought you ought to-”

“Please, Daphne. You have friends, don’t you? The scholar you lived with in the human’s city, or what about that half-blood you got along with so well?’

Daphne held up a hand. “No, no. Cain and his family are more their targets than anyone else. And goodness knows where Ion is- frankly I don’t think they’d be able to help, anyway. And Leonora, well…”

A tense pause. They were isolated and their friends were scattered, and they knew it. What could they do? They needed the other civilizations to keep theirs afloat; they couldn’t just barricade themselves in.

“I have one last idea. Voyagers of all peoples have been the lead storytellers and information providers through this. People are bound to go to the Fae to find out what’s going on. If I wait there, I can intercept someone, get them on our side.”

And so the plan was set. Daphne gathered her things, set Marina in charge of the people, and set off for the forest shores.

~*~

After two decades of dedicating his life to a Spectrum Kendov (or Warrior), Spear had reached the point of the highest physical strength and endurance as well as elemental power of the Northern Dragon standards. A Spectrum Kendov was the highest honor a Dovah could accomplish, by defeating two God-like beings… Perun, lord of earth and all Hell fire, and Scorpio, whose stars reigned with war and bloodshed of all the other Zodiac beings.

Spear walked into the Champions Arena, the crowd roared with anticipation and excitement, for the supposed Spectrum Kendov, meant to protect them from all great evil had finally come to claim his title. His helm, shaped to match his demon horns, had already been placed upon his head, and his eyes, glistening with power and will, looked at his opponents, with no urge to kill, but to have mercy when they were beaten to the ground.

"Well, isn't this a sight to see!" Perun's deep booming voice shouted, "Another one ready to die just to claim a glorified and honorful title he just can't have!" Perun had always been the one to provoke those who had high egos, yet Spear remained unmoved with his words.

"Ain't that the truth, this little man is nothing but a few twigs tied with some leaves," A lighter, cockier voice came from Scorpio, whom was the one to provoke others who share his personality, "Sure he has a bit of a size… but he ain't average height, that's for sure!" Perun and Scorpio boomed with laughter.

"Gaah! What the fu-?" Scorpio never finished his exclamation before he was thrown into the arena wall after being punctured with a double axe bladed spear, Spear's personal weapon. The fight had begun, and Scorpio had already yielded to Spear, he was in so much shock he forgot how to fight, while Perun sprung into action with his flaming axe bladed chain, grinding the ground around Spear. As Perun made a final smash to where Spear was, a thunderbolt the size of five struck upon him, leaving Spear's weapon in his back.

Spear retrieved his weapon from Perun's back, and showed mercy on him and Scorpio, for they were only trying to find the true Spectrum Kendov. The tribe went wild and shouted, "Spear is our Guardian! All praise whoever's watching us that we have our Guardian!"

Perun spoke to Spear after he was helped up by him, "We stood no chance- your small appearance is really deceiving to your skill in battle and power. Scorpio and I made an agreement that we would be the Spectrum's protectors, because while you may be strong, you are not immortal."

Spear spoke in a gentle yet stern voice, "Indeed, and I would rather have someone by my side fighting with me, than having more power and relying on that to fight."

Perun and Scorpio took Spear to the North Tower, the one place where all you see is South. "The Wind of the Northern Winter lies here, if it finds you worthy of its own power, then you are the Spectrum Kendov, and you know what responsibility comes with that title…" Perun spoke grimly and sorrowfully as he finished his speech.

Spear responded, "I know all too well of the prophecy, but I'd rather know than not if… he… is to come in my lifetime…" The Wind of the Northern Winter flowed through his veins as he entered the tower, no cold came upon him, yet he felt he could never feel too hot. He had been chosen to be the Spectrum Kendov, the Decimator of Alduin as legend goes- but that time had not come, for another challenge for Spear and the Northern Dragons arose down South…

~*~

Nightmares plagued the residents of the trees, no doubt the Interlopers used these horrid dreams to communicate. Below the leaves, the devils hung Fae bodies in shackles, pulling and picking at them until they bled. Those above pleaded to their gods that they and their children would not be next.

The Interlopers held a ravenous, morbid curiosity. It drove them out of the forests, beyond the lands of the Fae. They tormented the remnants of the first city, the servants of the iron god and the blood necromancers of the east. Their cruel hands found their ways into the lives of the Imitites, the Ortothans, and the Dovahs who had ventured South from their home.

Even the sirens below the freezing southern waves and ice were not immune to this. They poked their heads up to find massive beasts afoot in the snow. The ice cracked under their weight, leaving them vulnerable under the sickly yellow eyes of their attackers. They sent ships to the flesh shepherds and wonder makers on land, and even some to their Fae ancestors still in the woods, but none returned.

They looked to their princess, the demigod of the moon, sea, storms, and dreams, to provide them with weapons and armour, food and shelter. She didn’t know what to do- how could she possibly slip past these monsters? They were everywhere! Not trusting the gods of the Fae she was created by, she turned to another. Going to the sea serpent of lost memories, she prayed.

The Northern Dragons reacted differently however. In their attempts to sail across lands and create new colonies, they had run into what seemed to be giant creatures of great physical strength. Those that were exploring had either been missing for a great time, or had come back with their boats and sails barely holding together, while one man handling the boat itself.

The Dovahs had decided that Spear, the Spectrum Kendov, should be the one to seek out what they heard were called Interlopers, and hunt every single one of them down. While they planned his exploration, they had caught wind of creatures called the Fae, who were being hunted by these Interlopers. With all of this information, they had compiled a plan to not only bring the Fae as an ally, but to begin not a war, but a hunt against the Interlopers. So Spear untied his sail, pushed against the boat onto the water, and sailed to what the Dovahs called the Midlands, the land between Northern and Southern lands.

~*~

Sailing across waters long, Spear found himself beached at the Midlands; scanning his surroundings he finds that a forest grows thick ahead. Grabbing his weapon off of his back, he is ready for any battle to come, as he senses danger within the dense woods. He jumps off the boat's prow and lands with grace, while only sand from where he stood moved. He sneakily and quickly veered into the woods, and found that it was vast and compacted with large, kapok trees. Spear took note as he is only used to his native Blackwood trees.

A sound appeared suddenly, Spear silently leapt to the back of the closest tree, and peered upon what looked to be what he was hunting. An interloper, magnificent in size and mass, making an absurd amount of noise through each footstep, looking like a bear on two legs, as it was covered in fur. Spear slowly and expertly aimed his weapons towards the Interlopers head, and threw. After a clash of weight caving down onto a tree, the body of the interloper crumbled into a pile of jade rocks, it was dead. Spear walked over to his weapon, sensing no other large beings around, and picked up his weapon.

Suddenly, a sharp pain dug itself into his shoulder, and he turned to be met with the end of an arrow, made of, was it ice? "Gaah! Shite! What the heck!?" Spear jumped behind a tree with an arrow in his right shoulder. "Alright, who has the bloody galls to face me in combat? I warn you, I am a Dovah!" Spear left the arrow in his arm so as to not cause more bleeding, and switched to his left hand to weild.

"Come on out Interloper! I may have mercy on you if you do!" A feminine voice shouted from beyond Spear’s field of vision.

"The hell do you mean Interloper? Is that pile of rocks not what a dead one looks like?!" Spear shouts, aggravated that he was accused of being something he wasn't.

"Wait...who are you, if not one of them?" The woman’s voice spoke once more, and Spear sensed confusion and fear in her voice. She must’ve shot him thinking she was being hunted by him.

"I'm coming out slowly, I would appreciate it if you would not shoot me again!" Spear tentatively stepped around the tree to see the figure's ice-sculpted weapon out, but not ready to fire. "I am Spear, Guardian of the Northern Dragons….who the Hell are you?"

"Princess Daphne le’Iýa, Faerie demigod of the ocean," Daphne realizes the wounds and puts away her bow while stepping towards Spear. Spear was obviously hesitant and held out his weapons towards her. "Look, I thought you were one of the monsters, and had I known you were not, I certainly wouldn't have shot you. I can fix that wound better than you can. Please, it's the least I could do."

Spear recognized her honesty, while still noticing fear in her voice. He let her come close enough to slit his throat, but she pulled the arrow out of his arm, and immediately started singing in a language the Spear only knows through ancient Faerie scrolls, and his arm healed, leaving only a scar to remember.

"You are skilled in your magic, I'm glad to have met you, even if I met your arrow first,” Spear spoke honestly and jokingly, as he knew that forgiving this supposed Daphne would be the best way to start a bond.

"I am truly sorry about that. Is there anything else I can do?" Daphne didn’t seem to want anyone else after her, and tried her best to apologize to Spear.

"Do not worry, you only shot in defense without fully knowing who you were shooting at, I can understand this," Spear patted her shoulder to assure her. "Maybe we can both benefit from this event of meeting each other… you could find safety and rest back in my homeland, and then you can share what you know about these Interlopers, this way we both are happy with what we get."

"Have you forgotten about my actions so soon? I shot you!" Daphne was dumbfounded by Spear's quick dismissal of what had happened to him. Although he shook his head at her.

"You need not worry of your actions, for they were acted upon through fear and reaction, you were only trying to keep yourself safe. I can help you with that." Daphne tried to oppose and tell him that he should not be so dismissive about the event, but Spear assured her through a side hug, which caught Daphne off guard enough for Spear to walk past her and towards his boat.

“Wait,” Daphne called. Spear turned back to look back. “The last time I crossed the ocean with someone, things ended up, well… not so good.”

“You’ll be quite safe with my people,” Spear said. Daphne shifted a bit, eying him with wary hope. He was exactly what she set out looking for, after all. “And besides. If you find yourself uncomfortable, you can always use your arrows again,” he said with a playful wink.

With this, Daphne giggled slightly and followed behind. Exiting the thick forest, the two climbed onto the boat. Spear set sail to Scandinavia, the land of the Northern Dragons. To which the two made the journey, to the next step in either great failure, or triumphant victory…

~*~

The pair tentatively made their way across the ocean, skirting past the Interlopers ships to find themselves on the icy northern shores. The princess scurried to and fro, fascinated by her new environment and its people. How different they were than the people of the places she had previously resided in…!

They were Children of the Sun, but unlike those in the First City, these people were pale, blonde, and above all, kind. They welcomed the man- Spear- back with open arms, and were more than curious to meet the woman he had brought along with him. They peppered her with questions and gifts and sights to see, until eventually she was taken to a large building made from an upside-down wooden ship, which they called the Companion’s Lodge, a place to plan a hunt of glory and honor.

Suffice to say, she should’ve known that the man she crossed the ocean with would be the leader. She also met his guards, the most different of men but an excellent team nonetheless. Here, the four pulled out books, maps, stories and paintings, pouring over them in hopes that a hint would be found. A sign that the plans they would go on to make were possible.

After much studying and deliberation, they had had enough. What better way to understand these monsters than through personal experience? Better to dive right into cold waters than to waste your time slowly wading. It was a siege they wanted, and it was a siege they would have.

~*~

The battle was ferocious, haunting... yet it yielded knowledge to Spear and Daphne. As Spear took two dozen Dovahs with him, all with different elemental abilities, Daphne trained in her skills with water. During this time she was informed of something from Spear she never expected.

"It is tradition when one makes an ally of another, they would train each other of the other's weapon, so that the bond goes beyond words of trust, it is also trust of possessions." Spear spoke to Daphne in hopes to have created at least a friend with her. "I believe we are trusting of each other, so… what do you say?"

"Uhm…" Daphne was caught a bit off guard. Her bow being one of few things she kept to remind her of the home she came from. "I'm not sure… I mean, I trust you completely… but I don't want to give my bow to anyone really…" She obviously didn't want to hurt him in any way, so she tried her best to tell him in the kindest way.

"Well, maybe we can teach each other of how to use one another's weapons, that way if we do switch weapons, it won't be devastating in battle," Spear was trusting towards Daphne, mainly because he felt a strong connection between them. Even so, Daphne felt guarded towards him, yet she agreed to training each other, as she remembered, ‘iron sharpens iron.’

While Spear was able to pick up her bow and use it with tremendous strength and agility, Daphne had immediate trouble with how to begin using Spear's complicated weapon. Until Spear suggested using it as a spear, not an axe, Daphne then swiftly grew more attuned to the weapon.

While this was happening, the Interlopers stronghold was being populated with readily growling beasts, yielding to tear apart anything that came. Just before the battle began, Daphne and Spear switched weapons, and having learned each other's weapons, they charged in the front line, and made mountains with the piling jade rocks from many fallen and crushed Interlopers.

With their great roar of excitement, the Dovahs roared with them, right into the line of Interlopers. As they crashed through their thick bodies with their hugs weapons, they became berserk and started wailing on them, showing no mercy. They had trained to fight like Hell itself, and they were as demons in this battle, blood soared not spilled, limbs flew not fell, and the morale of the Dovahs only increased. However, even with their great first triumphant starting charge, they started to wear down in numbers, just by virtue of the continuous streaming numbers of Interlopers.

As Daphne was using her water abilities in ways she never imagined using on the frontline, Spear used archery and close combat expertly to the point where he never missed his shots and never came close to getting hit. Even though the two sibling-like fighters were doing well, the Dovahs were still overwhelmed by the increasing numbers.

Many had used fire, metal, nature, and all of them were decimated, while those using lightning were barely holding on as well as wind… however, Daphne noticed something. She peers in close distance to two Dovahs using water abilities, making the Interlopers drown, what was curious however, was that when they were under the water, they couldn't move, therefore they couldn't breath and they died.

Daphne quickly refocused to the battle at hand, and Spear cries out, "Too many have fallen, fall back! Water Dovahs, drown those who follow us!" It seemed as though Spear was also paying attention to his surroundings. As the remaining group of soldiers returned to their outpost, the last two water Dovahs made a wall of water of which the Interlopers could not pass lest they drown and crumble into jade.

Daphne and Spear look at each other in agreement. The battle may have been lost for that day… but knowledge of weakness in their enemies may prove to be the element to winning the war, or as the Northern Dragons call it, the hunt…

~*~

The Companion's Lodge was bathed in a tense argument. They started the siege with the advantage of surprise, but it had quickly descended into mindless violence and death.

“How could this have happened? I thought we had them!” Scorpio shouted in frustration.

“We made sure to bring our best! All different kinds of elemental wielders were there with us, and nearly all of them were slaughtered! What more could we possibly have done?” Perun huffed. Although calmer than the others, his voice still wavered with stress.

“At least we learned their weakness,” Spear started to speak before being cut off.

“Oh, fantastic. Just in time for your people to be killed,” Daphne said icily.

“Our people,” Spear tried an uncertain smile.

Daphne paused and sighed, relieving a tad bit of the tension. “Yes, our people.” She looked around the room, which had largely quieted down. “I’m so sorry. If I had known it would turn out this way…”

“But you couldn’t have. This isn’t any of our faults,” Perun said in a soothing, almost fatherly tone. A somber silence fell over them, each lost in thought, or perhaps simply in grief.

“Daphne could tell us more about why this is happening,” Scorpio spoke quietly.

“I already told you all I know about the Interlo…” she trailed off. That didn’t seem to be the point. “Alright.”

“Well, the Fae goddess- my mother, Iýa. She created me and my… sister, Leonora. But she was made princess and I wasn’t, so I ran away. I didn’t realize why I needed to stay until the Fae had Iýa create the Interlopers we now face.”

A, “But why?” from Perun.

A, “Shush!” from Spear.

Daphne giggled before turning serious again. “The first man- Asem- stole from my people. He took a star and used it for a crown. I was already gone when all this happened, but I’m told the Faeries wished for justice. In return, Iýa gave them the Interlopers. Not that it mattered. Asem’s greed had already torn his family apart. His wives left him, his sons quarreled until they drove each other apart, and his people all left or died in the chaos.”

“And how is it you know so much about him?” Scorpio spoke with a hint of accusation.

She drew in a breath to argue, but Perun spoke as before her, more calmly. “He’s right. Even we didn’t know this, and we live much closer to the first city than you did at the time.”

Daphne huffed and turned away. Spear put a hand on her shoulder, making her tense and then ease up.

“I was there.” Silence. Spear’s hand pulled away. “I know how that must sound. Most people would have you believe I immediately joined the sirens under the ice, but…” She took a deep breath. “There was this boy. I went with him to his city- the first city- and his family. They were nice, but not kind. And I was there to witness this be their downfall. Not that it matters now- and it’s probably for the best, anyway.”

Spear put his arm around Daphne’s shoulder to comfort her, and it worked. She steeled herself again to go on. “Now, as for the Interlopers- in the city was a sorcerer- his name was Noah. I know it sounds like a long shot, but I know him, and I know he could help. I think our next step is to find him.”

~*~

Daphne had hidden herself away under her covers, with a small, glowing gem of ice. Curled up and warm, she sang a lullaby and fiddled with the ginger scarf in her hands. Her sister’s. If only they could’ve just gotten along, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. If she had just sought to understand her mother’s wishes for her, or if she had met Asem just a little sooner to convince him not to do what he did...

You’ll never be able to hate yourself enough to rewrite history, that boy’s gentle voice whispered to her. Silently, she nodded. Her heart ached with longing. How she wished she could hold him again. She’d fall to her knees and beg if it meant she could giggle with her sister again, or squirm and cry in her mother’s arms. If this could all go back to normal. But, drawing in a shaky breath, she reminded herself not to dwell on what could have been. She had a new family now, one that truly loved her, and she had to protect them.

Spear meanwhile, took a knife from his shield, which had many, but this one was different. This first knife he had crafted with his mother, the one of few things that actually cut him. He held it in his hands in admiration, as if he had never seen it before. Spear then held the knife to his chest as if trying to hug it, and thought about his mother.

He began singing an old song told by many of the Dovahs, called, My Mother Told Me. He sang it perfectly in three different keys. He then replaced his knife back into his shield, and stood up. He was ready for battle, for exhaustion, even for death… because he was once a boy who cut himself with his own knife… and now is the Spectrum Kendov… he feared not the death of himself, but the death of his newfound sister, therefore he swore that he would protect her, even at the cost of his life...

~*~

"Water is their weakness!" Perun shouted, "Why the Hell can't we just use your powers in every battle and destroy these cursed Interlopers?!" Perun was insistent on being a warlord, making sure everyone had a chance of fighting and getting stronger. Though he didn't realize the bigger picture.

"Every time I used my powers for an extended amount of time, I got tired, that is why we can't continuously use these powers every battle, because it would weaken us to the point where we can't even fight!" Spear spoke angrily at Perun, though he knew Perun's powers worked differently because he was a mythological God, he hated his lack of empathy when others got tired from using them. "Even if we didn't get tired, why should we fight and lose more of our men, when we can wipe them out completely in one big swipe?!"

"What are you talking about…?" Perun's curiosity perked up as he heard this. Daphne opened up a scroll of prophecy, and with her knowledge explained to both Perun and Scorpio more about Noah, a human from the seas, able to control great waves from below ground.

With this knowledge they created a plan, Spear would use his powers that combined into weather to create a huge rainstorm, Daphne would use her powers to raise the waves of the oceans, lakes, and rivers, and finally Noah would use his power to break the ground and gush water from the Earth. Their powers combined should be enough to cover all but the highest parts of the Earth. They trusted that the Interlopers would fall in and sink, while others would either get to the high ground, use boats, or swim in the sea if they were sea creatures. The missing component was Noah himself.

"Where is this Noah?" Scorpio asked urgently, he wanted to rid the Northern Dragons of any threats as soon as possible. Daphne then pulled out a map of the Midlands and pointed out where he could be.

"Right in the middle of an Interloper camp?" Spear grunted this, as he did not want anything to go wrong in getting Noah. Daphne nods, her expression was a mix of anger and disappointment, she had the same feelings as Spear. Perun started to notice the bond between Spear and Daphne, and while the two were talking more, Perun pulled Scorpio aside.

"I remember that Noah was taken captive with the Daevite Methuselah, though I don't know what their intentions were," Daphne spoke to Spear, she was annoyed by the fact they had to fight more Interlopers to get one person.

"I have Dovahs around the area, mainly for scouting. They came back long before all of this and told me that there is a camp, and it's only guarded by about 40 beasts, which I would think are Interlopers. It will only be tedious, that's all," Spear spoke to Daphne, trying to lift her spirits at least a little. It worked, and Daphne thanked him for being the one to look at a mug half full. Spear meanwhile thanked Daphne for looking at every possible bad ending, things to avoid.

As Scorpio and Perun come back unnoticed, they begin to pack for the adventure ahead. They thought it would be a walk in the small forest, so they only brought Spear, Daphne, Perun, and Scorpio. A mistake they made to bring so little to a battle they thought would be easy. For there may be small numbers, but the camp is one of the oldest camps the Interlopers made, and since they do not age with time… trouble is amongst those who venture into these parts of the Midlands…

~*~

The travelers numbering four ventured forth into the seemingly haunted woods. As they were traveling Perun started sensing many things in the woods, small animals mostly. He looked everywhere at all times, making sure they were safe. It seemed the right thing to do considering they were going into unknown territory for everyone.

The trees themselves were massive birch trees, usually thought of as peaceful, harmless. However twisted magic had affected these trees over the decades, and created monster-like limbs and branches. Even with these weird formations, no twigs or branches had fallen to be broken, as if nobody had ever ventured into this area.

They managed to find the camp of the Interlopers, and snuck in. All of them were on high alert, especially Perun, as they crouched and sneakily ran in multiple directions.

Daphne left the group and followed the sweet scent of water, a stark contrast against the putrid stank of things rotting in the dark. The brook led her to a horrid sound, red lights serving as a waypoint. It was awful; the closer she got, the more she clung to the bed of the stream for comfort. But alas, her head emerged at the rumbling thud of Interloper footsteps. She immediately gagged.

There, in the middle of a crowd of singing devils, was Iýa, but it was not really her. This was a massive, sickly tree, the size of a large town. It was twisted and warped, with a thousand wriggling bodies strung up in it’s branches. The aberration was screaming and crying an demonic bellow, all the while the Interlopers hummed as though in joy.

What was this thing? This couldn’t be Iýa, it wasn’t possible! Iýa was a glowing mother, a sleeper in the stars, a granter of wishes. She cared for the downtrodden and oppressed, and all those who could not defend themselves. She couldn’t become this, this...

Meanwhile, Spear, Scorpio, and Perun had convened in the main camp. It seemed that only the prisoner's area was inhabited, there they found the supposed Noah. As they started to unchain him, he started grunting. They quickly shushed him and told him they were there to help, he calmed down enough to be unchained, however, they did not quiet him in time.

Suddenly, a loud sound of seemingly screeching giggling and groaning of war had been shouted, despite Perun's attempts to look everywhere, he managed to miss the entire garrison of the Interloper camp. Spear and Daphne, now returned, immediately stood back to back as if they could take on the whole world, while Perun and Scorpio started smashing their weapons onto the Interlopers. Scorpios scythe had pierced many during the battle, while Perun's axe on a chain whirled around and clashed the heads of many. Spear and Daphne, using each other's weapons as always, were always either defending each other or helping the other attack an Interloper, they were synchronized.

The fight continued on like this until Daphne was thrown to a tree, leaving Spear vulnerable to the last remaining Interloper. Spear looked about him as the Interloper charged his weapon at him….although no injury befell him, rather on Scorpio. Spear threw his weapon and the last Interloper was thrown into a tree and broke into jade. Spear slides to Scorpio's side in time for him to speak to Spear for a short time…..

After his dialogue, his body turns bright and, as if he were being sucked into the sky, his body lifted up swiftly, leaving only his necklace for Spear to bear… Scorpio was dead. Spear shouted out in rage and a thunderstorm started to appear, then it stopped. Daphne hugged Spear tightly, and while Spear was caught off guard by this, he embraced her, being thankful that he was still with her at least. Perun had then brought who was seemingly Noah out of hiding, from behind thick berry bushes, and into sight.

After their journey back, and the heartache of Scorpio's death, they explain the whole plan of how to destroy the Interlopers. Noah was quite panicked at first, but after calming down and hearing Perun, Spear, and Daphne, as well as considering they saved him, he agreed to being a part of the plan. So together, they trained, and got ready for The Great Flood of Cleansing Sin. Factions around the world had been sent a message entitling everyone to either get to high ground, build ships to sail on, or dive deep underwater so as to not be destroyed by the coming flood. Who knew what more sacrifices have to be made to create peace, was it even worth it all? The story continued, and the next step was the extinction of a race…

~*~

Spear, Daphne, Noah, and Perun travelled back to the forest of their greatest travesty, and had one last moment of remorse, sorrow, heartache. The rest of the Dovahs were building their ships to sail on the waters to come, and they decided to go to the location after the prophesied flood.

Daphne didn't know Scorpio for long, but she still enjoyed his comedic comments and his radiation of happiness, and she knew everything would be at least a good amount more depressing. Spear knew Scorpio for not much longer than Daphne, but like Daphne, he enjoyed Scorpio's company, as well as their many interesting conversations… including the one where he told Spear he was getting married.

Spear and Perun had to hug his fiancé for over an hour just to comfort her. Perun was Scorpio's brother, they were not blood related, but brothers nonetheless, therefore Perun, for the first time in his entire life, cried a tear from his eye. All Dovahs remorsed of his death, but only those who truly knew and had a relationship with Scorpio needed time, time to be sad. Then anger rose from the sadness, and all of them started preparing for the creation of the flood.

As Spear and Perun walked away, Daphne tailed behind them and slipped into the nearby creek. She did not have the will to enjoy the feeling of her tail returning; the situation at hand was much too grim. Her mother was now an abomination, her heart torn out for those created to be betrayed. And a man who had so quickly become a brother to her was dead. Daphne never had any brothers, why now that she did would one be taken away so carelessly?

Daphne heaved a sigh and began to sob. At first it seemed that the Interlopers were tools, created to do the Fae's dirty work and then be ignored forever. But they weren’t; they were children. Made for violence and cast aside like waste. And festering in the dark for so long, was it any surprise they didn’t know any better? Was it their fault?

She now knew what needed to be done, but hadn’t they already lost enough? A good friend and a mother gone were too much, how could she bring herself to wipe out an entire race, even despite their actions?

She once again thought of Asem’s family, of Cain, and felt an overwhelming pang of guilt. Oh, all the things she could’ve, should’ve, didn’t do to stop this! Clutching at the clockwork bracelet he had given to her, she did the only thing she could think to do; pray. Not to what was left of Iýa, not to any leviathans or sea serpents, but to a simple god with a simple purpose. She only hoped her words could be heard, that things could still be fixed. But the quiet sound of a thousand voices whispered to her, that she already knew what to do.

Touching a hand to the grass, she began to sing. It was her sister’s song, a flowery poem of spring, rebirth and justice. But this was not justice for her, Daphne thought as the flowers around her began to bloom in unison. This isn’t for the Faeries, their queen, or even Leo (though Daphne did hope she was safe). This was not for Asem or the Children of the Sun, or even the countless cultures that had been picked, pulled, and torn at by the devils.

No, the flood may be necessary to wipe out the horror of their acts, but the flowers now blooming across the face of the planet would serve as the Interlopers grave. And she would ensure this day would be remembered.

~*~

The flowers had wilted as the sun set the evening after their blooming. In the night that followed, light rain began to drizzle. This quickly turned to torrents and lightning that could rival that of even the god’s creation. Flash floods cascaded down mountains, turning creeks into rivers and rivers into great lakes. Forests became cold swaps and Interloper camps were reduced to sticks and blankets.

Those devils that were not fastened in place by the waters took the prisoners by their chains to the summits of peaks. Yet still most of the monsters slipped and fell, leaving the humans, Faeries, and Daevas still in their chains to find higher grounds, both together and on their own.

All the while, Daphne and Spear were deep, deep, down, their magic sustaining and growing on itself on their life forces. Low in the halls of Daphne’s first home, in the strip of land connecting the massive continents, they dreamt.

Hers started out pleasant. She was in a field, picking flowers as fast as her sister’s magic grew them. They took turns braiding the blossoms into each other’s hair, until the ground began to shake and the earth was overturned. They were then older, ceaselessly arguing as their mother futilely tried to calm them. Both sisters stormed off, swearing to never speak again.

The doors slammed shut, and there she sat beside the scholar, quietly watching him write. She reached behind him for a pen to mimic his strange symbols with. But as soon as her eyes turned, she was face to face with the starry iron crown of Asem. Across her eyes played scenes of the brutality and deadly force of the Interlopers- their prisoners crying, her mother’s corpse screaming- and the storms and floods created to wash them away.

And then she saw things she didn’t recognize. Simple flashes, almost ideas. Some were light. Her friends, older and stronger. A wedding, two boys that looked half like her. Spear, in command of legions, and Leonora, princess of the Fae. But some were dark. A corrupt king and his four knights, sent to destroy, going back to their kingdom in cursed shambles. The cadaver of her sister, willingly having given her life to end the terrorous reign of the Fae’s ruiners, and the great profanities she created.

And then her mind went blank. Only the rains remained.

While this happened, Spear and Perun quickly started getting ready while Noah and Daphne had already started using their powers. Perun was there to guard them, but just in case anyone slipped by, Spear created spheres of protection to serve as a shield against any attack, and he surrounded Noah, Daphne and himself. While Spear started to control his power, he saw Perun burst into a flaming creature, with black wings that seemed to be infected with white colors. Then, Spear lost himself to his thoughts, his powers activated, and he could only see darkness.

Then, a flash of light, and he could see everything. He saw the bodies of the many fallen Dovahs that died during the hunt against the Interlopers. In the middle of the body littered ground, he saw Scorpio, his heart pierced, and his body lay soulless. Then, his eyes filled with life, and he got up. Spear stood back in shock and terror at this sight, he didn't realize this was only in his spiritual mind. Scorpio plucked the halberd from his chest, and tossed it to the ground, and then gave Spear a brotherly hug.

As Spear was in question, Scorpio calmed him, saying that it was not his soul that died, and that there is hope for him to live. Spear begged him to tell him how, he said he only knew that the coming Alduin must be defeated, before he could return. Spear was still in question, but Scorpio assured him that he would be a guide of what to do, and where to go throughout his life from now on. Scorpio then touched his necklace, which Spear bared on his chest, and Spear filled with increased power. The Blessing of the Zodiacs, only given to those worthy enough to fight by the side of a Star.

As Spear started calming down, his heart filled somewhat with anger, as he still remembered the deaths of the many Dovahs, and Scorpio. Then his heart filled somewhat with love, as his brotherly relationship with Daphne reigned in his heart, he knew he had to defend her. He didn't even think about his family, his friends, or even anyone else he was supposed to save, and he even forgot about the deaths. All he thought of was Daphne, and even the thought of her being injured haunted him… so he protected her.

In the physical realm, Noah was breaking water from the ground, and Daphne was moving water from all bodies of water, just as planned. Interlopers expectantly charged towards them, but then a fiery creature came crashing down, and looked at them. Horns grew a meter long each, body of a demon, with huge hawk-like wings colored charcoal and streaks of pure white, a tail meters long reached around the creature, and at the end, was an axe, all the while the creature was violently flaming, and was hold a huge Greatsword in one hand, and a Battleaxe on a thick chain in the other. It was Perun, in his true Rising Demonic form, filled with rage. Still in the stage of horror, the Interlopers were then crashed into by Perun, while he wailed his axe around and flurried his sword at them, they felt fear. Even in their terrified state, they fought hard against Perun, though they knew they couldn't take him down, they just needed to get past him. Due to Perun's arrogance in attacking them, many Interlopers ran past him and towards the flooding trio.

Though they got close to them they stopped in horror, as they looked at one of the three. Spear was glowing lightning bright, and a hurricane the size of the entire world started. Even Perun looked in confusion, he knew Spear could never use that much power in any given situation, but he did, because of the blessing given by Scorpio's spirit, and Spear's heart filled with the brotherly protection for Daphne. He created the hurricane that not only flailed the opposing Interlopers away, but immediately started filling the earth with the water.

Clans and Kingdoms around the world were taking refuge to hide from the flood. Samurai of the Isles took to the mountains with the Ninjas of Darkness. The Woodlands Weres took refuge in mountains as well, far from the Isles. The Southern Dragons used magic to protect them from the waters, and the Northern Dragons used ships, as they were voyaging Vikings, and loved the challenge of the storm. And the creature of the water took refuge in underwater caves.

The Interlopers were swiftly wiped out, as they couldn't swim or build boats fast enough, they crumbled into jade as they were suffocated by the rising waters. An entire race was wiped out, all except a few remaining Interlopers that managed to get high enough, but they were eventually taken prisoner or driven underground.

Then, when all the destruction was done, Spear and Daphne woke up exhausted in all ways, using that much power greatly diminished their strength. Perun ran to them in a hurry, and tried offering to help them up, but they both refused and just wanted to lay down for a bit. When they somewhat rested they slowly got up, and Spear and Daphne hugged tightly, and then they looked for Noah. When they found him, his body was resting peacefully, a burnt-out husk as he took his final breath using a great amount of power to help them stop the Interlopers.

~*~

And so the floods receded, and life seemed to simply go on. The sparse handful of Interlopers leftover were dragged into hiding, and their prisoners found their way free of their chains and back to their homes.

Daphne's blue eyes looked upon Spear's hazel, and smiled wearily. Then, they hugged tightly. Though they had made it in the end, many had sacrificed their life to help them get this far. Their mission was done, and Noah, Scorpio, and the Interlopers went with it.

They returned to the Dovah home land, where celebrations had burst forth like lightning. For the first time in a long time, they allowed themselves to simply rest and enjoy themselves. They ate, drank, and were merry for seven days and seven nights, but no time limit could contain their joy.

Until the bitter taste had set in. So much was lost, and yet they partied. But they reminded themselves that festivity was not meant to diminish the sacrifices made to allow it. They honored those that had fallen by reveling in the peace and freedom they had brought.

Perhaps the world would never be entirely fixed, but they had learned by now that it didn’t matter. Spear had never forgotten his mother’s words, and chose now to share them with his newfound sister. That is why the gods gave us loved ones. To unify us and to lift one another up.

“So what now?” Daphne asked him at one time. “The world will never be the same. It’s like, their entire existence has just been… swallowed whole.”

“Yes, I suppose that was the point. But we’ve done a great thing, you know.” She smiled at him and nodded. “And now we… carry on?”

She sighed.

“...And now we carry on.”

~*~

And so Spear returns to Scandinavia, and continues to be the Spectrum Kendov, Guardian of the Northern dragons. Not only that, but as he bears the necklace of his fallen brother, Scorpio, he feels his night sky presence, watching over him, as if he was right next to Spear. Perun becomes the general of the entire Northern Dragon Dovahs, and sets up a way of communication for Daphne and Spear, making it so that they can continue being siblings. After all of this Spear trains, what he trains for is only in prophecy. At first he didn't believe it, but as soon as he found a scroll prophesying Noah and the flood, Spear began his training to fight Alduin…

Daphne found herself aimlessly wandering when the Flood had finally left. She met the madman Ion again, and helped them raise their religion. And after a while, her path crossed that of the scholarboy from the first city again. They were married in a temple of the Iron God, and when that church no longer accepted them, they fled to build a family and a city of their own. Every now and again, the princess, now queen, would ride the waves north to see her Dovah brothers, just as they went south to meet her, as well.

The Interlopers fell into legend, the ghost stories that would frighten children at night. All had forgotten them but the Faeries and the Dovahs. They mourned for the losses caused across the world, and for all that they had allowed themselves to do and believe. So when the Apollyons came to conquer the Faeries, they accepted their fate in hopes that justice could be served properly this time.

And Iýa? She tore out her own heart to make the prison the Interlopers requested, where Asem rots to the present day. Her body, similarly, decays in a cavern just below it, as do the few remaining Interlopers and the Apollyon knight who failed to seize her. The Wormwood trees had long since pulled it into an underground cavern, wiping its memory from all those above. All that was left was a scar. Although Dovahs were disconnected from this magic, therefore they could remember all.

Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned here. About the envy of Adam, about the failures of the Fae, or maybe about the levity blindly doled out by Iýa herself. Or maybe it's about the teamwork of those who opposed the Interlopers, the love that bound them together, and the relentless courage they wielded. We may never know.

And so, the book closes and another story is shelved.

~*~

Well, dear reader, if you've read this far, I couldn't possibly thank you enough!

And many, many thanks to my little brother, Spear (@jack-spear-eye), for helping me on this!! Scorpio, Perun, and Kendov (Warrior) Spear (his self-insert), and the Dovahs are all his creations; Daphne is mine. We created the plot together, and the worldbuilding in general belongs to djkaktus (based on SCP-6666, 4840, and 4812).

Lil' man, I swear, he was the best partner on this! Every time I hit a roadblock, he had a new idea that got the gears turning again. It was a big commitment, too, I mean, just look at all that text! But we pulled it off, and I'm glad we did!

Fearless and creative optimist you are, I couldn't have done it without you, Spear.

So without further ado, here's the man to talk about it a little, too!

I did this not for my own gain, but to show others a message of unity, as well as to entertain. Normally I would say something in dovahzul (Dragon tongue/language) But pretty much I just want to say thank you all very much for giving me the chance to be a part of this community, and I want to personally thank Andy (@the-siren-and-the-sailor) for giving me the chance to do all of this, and giving me something to look forward to :•)

And last but not least, the TL;DR!

[arkaniist]

I wrote 2.5k words about Tolkien, WWI, Le Morte d’Arthur, the Iliad and Odyssey, and more, all bundled happily in an essay about queer subtext in the Lord of the Rings revolving around the relationship between Sam and Frodo. I posted about this before, and someone asked me to post the essay, so here it is!

Homoerotic Subtext in the Lord of the Rings

In June of 1916, J. R. R. Tolkien shipped out from England to France to join his comrades on the Western Front. In July, he would participate in one of the bloodiest struggles of World War 1, the Battle of the Somme. Just a month later, he would be struck with Trench Fever, placing him in convalescence or behind a desk for the remainder of the war. Though his front-line experience was short, there is no denying the effect that the war and the loss of his closest friends had on Tolkien, nor the influence it had on his writing in the post-war years. Much has been written on that topic already. However, there is one aspect of Tolkien’s time in the service which is underexplored when it comes to the literary critique of his legendarium – of which the Lord of the Rings is but a piece – and that is his exposure to the widespread homoerotic attitudes which were a common undercurrent in the British armed forces during that time.

Homosexuality has always been an overlooked behavior on the front during wartime, even as it passed from common practice to taboo. One reason for this might be that people who are worried about being shot to death in a trench have other things to worry about besides who their mates might be kissing. Another might be that facing death brings a greater appreciation for love to the front of the mind, and it does not matter which gender that appreciation is directed towards. As a result, we find many examples in literature and letters of men expressing chaste but deep homoerotic love for other men. In The Great War and Modern Memory, Paul Fussel writes that in WWI-era battlefield poetry, one could not fail to notice ‘the unique physical tenderness, the readiness to admire openly the bodily beauty of young men, the unapologetic recognition that men may be in love with each other.’ (303). “War poetry has the subversive tendency to be our age’s love poetry.” he quotes Richard Fein. In that case, we must examine war literature for the same sentiments.

Most common in officers towards their men, we find ‘something more like the “idealistic,” passionate but non-physical “crushes” which most of the officers had experienced at public school. … What inspired such passions was — as always — faunlike good looks, innocence, vulnerability, and “charm.” The object was mutual affection, protection, and admiration.’ (Fussel 295) This makes sense, as ‘the tradition in Victorian homosexuality and homoeroticism [is] that soldiers are especially attractive. What makes them so is their youth, their athleticism, their relative cleanliness, their uniforms, and their heroic readiness, like Adonis or St. Sebastian, for “sacrifice.”’ (Fussel 302) In the Lord of the Rings, we find Frodo described as ‘taller than some and fairer than most, and he has a cleft in his chin: perky chap with a bright eye.’ (Tolkien 163). At his coming-of-age birthday party, he inherits the great evil that is the One Ring from his great uncle; he is an unintentional sacrificial lamb. Later, when he volunteers to take the One Ring to Mt. Doom knowing that it is likely a one-way trip if he can even make it that far, we find in our protagonist a young, beautiful, self-sacrificing hero.

Fussel writes that ‘although the usual course of protective affection was from superior to subordinate, sometimes the direction was reversed, with men developing hero-worshipping crushes on their young officers.’ (297) Enter Frodo’s counterpart and co-protagonist, Samwise Gamgee. Tolkien wrote in a 1956 letter to a fan that “My ‘Samwise’ is indeed (as you note) largely a reflexion [sic] of the English soldier—grafted on the village-boys of early days, the memory of the privates and my batmen that I knew in the 1914 War, and recognized as so far superior to myself.” (Letter 187)

A batman, in military parlance, was a soldier who, as well as fighting, oversaw an officer’s kit, cooking, and cleaning. (Garth) However, Sam is so much more than Frodo’s servant, though they start the journey as master of the house and gardener. Sam shows an incredible dedication to Frodo that cannot be explained as mere class-based loyalty. Take this passage from Return of the King when the enemy has captured Frodo. The Hobbits are separated, and Sam is up against what seems like impossible odds – faced with the task of raiding an entire tower he assumes is filled with enemies, alone, armed only with a short sword. He does not even know where Frodo is or if he is still alive:

‘… Except for that little frightened rat, I do believe there’s nobody left alive in the place!’

And with that he stopped, brought up hard, as if he had hit his head against the stone wall. The full meaning of what he had said struck him like a blow. Nobody left alive! Whose had been that horrible dying shriek? ‘Frodo, Frodo! Master!’ he cried, half sobbing. ‘If they’ve killed you, what shall I do? Well, I’m coming at last, right to the top, to see what I must.’ (Tolkien 887)

… He cared no longer for Shagrat or Snaga or any other orc that was ever spawned. He longed only for his master, for one sight of his face or one touch of his hand. (Tolkien 889)

Besides demonstrating Sam’s willingness to face certain death rather than leave Frodo, this passage is a perfect illustration of another one of Tolkien’s literary inspirations besides the Great War. Tolkien was a scholar of European mythology, drawing inspiration for his legendarium from epic myths like the Old English Beowulf and the Finnish Kalevala. Read the following lines from Le Morte d’Arthur regarding King Arthur’s death:

Then Sir Bedivere cried: Ah my lord Arthur, what shall become of me, now ye go from me and leave me here alone among mine enemies? … And as soon as Sir Bedivere had lost the sight of the barge, he wept and wailed, and so took the forest… (Mallory, Book 21 ch. V.)

Alas, said Sir Bedivere, that was my lord King Arthur, that here lieth buried in this chapel. Then Sir Bedivere swooned; and when he awoke he prayed the hermit he might abide with him still there, to live with fasting and prayers. For from hence will I never go, said Sir Bedivere, by my will, but all the days of my life here to pray for my lord Arthur. (Mallory, Book 21 ch. VI.)

These Medieval warrior relationships themselves draw from an even older literary tradition, one with not so much covert homoerotism but overt homosexuality. Ancient homosexual pederastic relationships like that of Alexander and Hephaestion or Achilles and Patroclus form the model for many close male warrior literary relationships. Compare Achilles’ reaction to Patroclus’ death in the Iliad to that of Bedivere to Arthur’s and Sam to Frodo’s:

A dark cloud of grief fell upon Achilles as he listened. He filled both hands with dust from off the ground, and poured it over his head, disfiguring his comely face, and letting the refuse settle over his shirt so fair and new. He flung himself down all huge and hugely at full length, and tore his hair with his hands. … Antilochus bent over him the while, weeping and holding both Achilles’ hands as he lay groaning for Antilochus feared that Achilles might plunge a knife into his own throat. (Homer, Book XVIII)

Near-suicidal grief at the loss of the beloved is a common theme between the three of them. Achilles lives to avenge Patroclus, Bedivere lives to pray for Arthur’s soul, and Sam, as luck and Tolkien would have it, lives to save Frodo, who was not dead after all, though it was a close thing. Sam’s joy at finding Frodo alive is as poignant as his grief at having thought he lost him – unashamed physical affection and more tears follow the discovery of his master.

[Frodo] was naked, lying as if in a swoon on a heap of filthy rags: his arm was flung up, shielding his head, and across his side there ran an ugly whip-weal.

‘Frodo! Mr. Frodo, my dear!’ cried Sam, tears almost blinding him. ‘It’s Sam, I’ve come!’ He half lifted his master and hugged him to his breast.

…

‘Well, you have now, Sam, dear Sam,’ said Frodo, and he lay back in Sam’s gentle arms, closing his eyes, like a child at rest when night-fears are driven away by some loved voice or hand.

Sam felt he could sit like that in endless happiness; but it was not allowed. It was not enough for him to find his master, he had still to try and save him. He kissed Frodo’s forehead. (Tolkien 889)

Tolkien’s earlier description of Sam as a combination of village boy and batman fits neatly with Fussel’s declaration that ‘to the degree that front-line homoeroticism was sentimental it can be seen to constitute another element of pastoral.’ (Fussel 300) In the Lord of the Rings, the Shire – Sam and Frodo’s home – represents the ultimate ideal of Pastoralism. In the Shire, Hobbits live community-focused rural lives with minimal conflict, drinking and feasting and partying, with little to no exposure to more advanced societies of the East. In that light, the entire quest of the Lord of the Rings can be seen as a removal from the Pastoral – the world becomes darker, less hospitable, and less natural the further East the Hobbits travel until they reach their end goal: a blighted, unnatural wasteland dominated by machinery.

As Frodo falls further and further under the sway of the One Ring, he forgets the Shire. He loses his connection to his pastoral home. Nevertheless, ever at his side is his loyal Sam, who recalls even in the darkest moments the comforts of home. Sam is Frodo’s link to the pastoral ideal when his suffering is the greatest. Sam’s yearning for the pastoral often comes up in the form of recalling Frodo as he was in the Shire. This is exemplified by the following passage near the end of their quest, just after the One Ring has been destroyed:

‘Well, this is the end, Sam Gamgee,’ said a voice by his side. And there was Frodo, pale and worn, and yet himself again; and in his eyes there was peace now, neither strain of will, nor madness, nor any fear. His burden was taken away. There was the dear master of the sweet days in the Shire.

‘Master!’ cried Sam, and fell upon his knees. In all that ruin of the world for the moment he felt only joy, great joy. The burden was gone. His master had been saved; he was himself again, he was free. (Tolkien 926)

While Sam represents and thus easily returns to an idyllic pastoral existence after the war, Frodo remains haunted by his experiences. Finally, we reach the real end of Frodo and Sam’s journey, the temporary separation before the eternal unification. Frodo and Sam go to see off Frodo’s uncle, and there Frodo reveals he will be passing into the West as well – a form of eternal life in Middle Earth, but one that is forever separate from the rest of the world:

‘Where are you going, Master?’ cried Sam, though at last he understood, what was happening.

‘To the Havens, Sam,’ said Frodo.

‘And I can’t come.’

‘No, Sam. Not yet anyway, not further than the Havens. Though you too were a Ring-bearer, if only for a little while. Your time may come. Do not be too sad, Sam. You cannot be always torn in two. You will have to be one and whole, for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be, and to do.’

‘But,’ said Sam, and tears started in his eyes, ‘I thought you were going to enjoy the Shire, too, for years and years, after all you have done.’

‘So I thought too, once. But I have been too deeply hurt, Sam. I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not for me. It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: some one has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them. But you are my heir: all that I had and might have had I leave to you. … You will … keep alive the memory of the age that is gone, so that people will remember the Great Danger and so love their beloved land all the more.’ (Tolkien 1006)

Here we see Frodo acknowledge that this separation splits Sam’s spirit – part of Sam goes to his home and family, but part always goes with Frodo. Frodo encourages him to live the rest of his life fully in the Shire, and when the time has come, he can reunite with Frodo in the ‘afterlife.’ Contrast this to Patroclus’ final request of Achilles in the Iliad:

“One prayer more will I make you, if you will grant it; let not my bones be laid apart from yours, Achilles, but with them; … let our bones lie in but a single urn, the two-handled golden vase given to you by your mother.” (Homer, Book XXIII)

Furthermore, the resolution in the Odyssey, as Odysseus reassures Achilles that his will was done:

Your mother brought us a golden vase to hold them—gift of Bacchus, and work of Vulcan himself; in this we mingled your bleached bones with those of Patroclus who had gone before you… (Homer, Book XXIV)

Return of the King ends with Sam riding home with a heavy heart to his family after watching Frodo’s ship depart to the West. Like the Iliad and Odyssey, we must read a bit further to determine what eventually happens with Frodo and Sam. The Lord of the Rings has a massive amount of supplementary material, including maps and family trees. In Appendix B, we find a chronology of the years before, during, and after the main novels. It reveals that at age 96, after the death of his wife, Samwise rides out to the Havens and passes over the Great Sea to unite with Frodo for the final time.

Queerness is often overlooked in serious examinations of literature, especially when the voices of cishet men dominate the discussion, as they do in Tolkien scholarship. Tolkien scholars have repeatedly dismissed the idea of homoeroticism in Tolkien’s works as silly fangirls making things gay for titillation, which erases queer voices and condemns queerness to the realm of the unrealistic and ahistorical.

I have been a fan of the Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit since I was queer child struggling with gender identity and sexual attraction. In sixth grade, I received my first copy of the Lord of the Rings, and I read it voraciously until the pages started to fall out. Although I did not fully recognize the homoerotic undertones back then, I still yearned for the deep, lasting, emotionally fulfilling, and life-changing same-sex relationships I saw in those books. Even 20 years later, as a queer adult, the idea that I might share something so intensely personal with my heroes is vitally important to me. J. R. R. Tolkien died in 1973. He was a devout Catholic who maintained a lasting friendship with a gay poet and spoke with great esteem of a novel about gay men written by a lesbian; one can hardly imagine what he might have said about the idea of queer subtext in his writing. But if I, a queer reader, recognize some essential part of myself in Sam or Frodo, if I see my bonds in their bond, is that not enough to warrant an entrance into the discussion and serious consideration? Whether you see their relationship as a purely platonic friendship or a great romance of the ages, Sam and Frodo are in love.

Works Cited

Fussel, Paul. The Great War and Modern Memory. Oxford University Press, 2013

Garth, John. “Sam Gamgee and Tolkien’s batmen.” 13 February 2013, [msg for link].

Homer. The Iliad. Translated by Samuel Butler. Project Gutenberg, 2000. [msg for link].

Homer. The Odyssey. Translated by Samuel Butler. Project Gutenberg, 1999. [msg for link].

Malory, Thomas. Le Morte d’Arthur, edited by Caxton, William, and Sir Edward Strachey. Project Gutenberg, 2014. [msg for link].

Tolkien, J. R. R. “Letter 187.” The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Tolkien, Christopher, and Humphrey Carpenter. Houghton Mifflin, 1981.

—. The Lord of the Rings. HarperCollinsPublishers, 1994.

[username-janai-katsura-da]

I saw you were doing the challenge so I was really excited to more about you and you OC I hope it doesn't bother you if I choose 2 and 8

It doesn't bother me at all anon, I was secretly hopping that someone would send me the number two 😂 (also I explained what kind of relationship the main 10 have with my OCs instead of saying what they think of them, I hope you don't mind) :

2. Introduce your Scholar / 8. What would each of  LIs say about you/ your Scholar ?

Name: Yumeji

Nationality: American

Languages spoken: English and basic Japanese

Height: 169cm

Weight: 54kg

Department: Athletics (Runner)

Love Interest: Axel

Yumeji is a student in the Athletic department. She lived in America her whole life and was raised by her father, a famous coach, while her mom died when she was young. After seing her dad training so many peoples, she got passionnate about running and integrated Arlington to go to the Olympics one day and win the first place in the 100m sprints category. She's a caring and easygoing girl, making it not hard to befriend her. Yumeji s a bit of a flirt with pretty much everyone except for the boy she actually likes and loves to tease the one she cares about. She has the bad habit to overwork herself and is never satisfied with the results she gets, especially when it comes to her passion, resulting her to often feeling like she isn't good enough.

Affinity:

• Alistair and Raquel are the one she's the most close to, spending a lot of time training together. It's not rare to see them challenging each others to the point of exhaustion, until Coach D has to kick them out of the gym.

• Being close to Alistair means hanging out with Tadashi too. She's really fond of him and never miss a chance to mess with him a little. She tried to convince him to help her practice her japanese, wanting it to be easier for her to talk with her mom's side of the family. That bastard accepted, but not for free.

• Due to her not being a scholarship student, her relationship with Karolina had never been bad. They're both polite to eachothers but have never tried to get close. Yumeji admires her dedication and hardwork in the fashion industry though.

• She's in love with Neha's creations and find her extremly talented, to the point that she even commissioned her a sport outfit. They grew closer during her arc, Yumeji being the one who supported her during this rough time.

• Spending a lot of time in Raquel's room, Yumeji and Claire are nice to eachothers but aren't that close, only speaking together when their friend is around.

• Both her and Tegan love video games so it's not rare to see them play together or talk about the ones they like.

• She finds Tyler hilarious and loves his energy. Him and Raquel tried once to convince her to joins them to party outside of the campus. Even if she's usually not a big fan of it, she ended up accepting but regreted right away when they got caught by Lady A who gave them detention.

• She's always up to be part of Ellie's pranks but is sometimes scared to see how much of an evil genius she can be when it comes to this.

• Axel and her have an obvious crush on eachothers and keep getting teased by Raquel who tell them to 'get a room' every time they're a bit too close. She usually flirt with everyone but for some reasons her brain literally stop functioning when it comes to flirt back with him. It'll take a lot of time for them to end up together since Axel is terrified of the idea of Yumeji getting hurts and receiving hate because of his career.

Name: Sarah

Nationality: French

Languages spoken: English and French

Height: 164cm

Weight: 69kg

Department: Fine Art* (Chef)

Love interest: Tegan

Sarah is a scholarship student coming from France, where she lived with her two parents and three little brothers. Shy by nature, she also suffer from social anxiety and is only confident when she's doing what she likes the most: cooking. After taking the time to know her, she's a pretty funny girl that loves to joke around and is always loyal to the one she cares about.

Affinity:

• She hangs out with the trio Ellie/Tyler/Tegan and is often dragged into their pranks against her will. They're really fond of her and are glad to have met her this year. Tyler is the one with who she's the most at ease and joke the most, finding it easy to be herself around him since they share the same type of humor. He and Ellie are shipping her with Tegan like crazy and are constantly teasing them about it. They try their best to set them together, because honestly if nobody push them a bit they'll never make the first move.

• Sarah has a hard time being around Karolina. Dealing with the way she treated her has been awful for her, having already a low self-esteem. She did accept her apologie at the end of her arc though, but she mostly did it for Tegan rather than for her. She still thinks that her excuse to be this harsh was stupid but will make an effort to be at least polite and will avoid to be alone with her for too long since it makes her uncomfortable.

• Claire and her are friendly with eachothers, often exchanging recipes and cooking together when they can. They almost only speak French when it's just the two of them and have little private jokes that only them understand.

• Her and Tadashi grew closer during his arc and he now consider her a good friend and confidante. Sarah always makes sure to check on him and that he gets enough sleep in vain and sometimes, Alistair has to text her to scold him a little when he won't listen to him and overwork himself (they're both part of the Tadashi protection squad)

• She's a bit intimidated by Raquel and Axel due to how popular the both of them are in the academy, but she'll get more comfortable around them after some time. They sometimes eat lunch together or hang out when they join Ellie and TNT but except that they aren't that close.

• Sarah followed Neha's advice at the beginning of the year when she told her to not talk to her when Karolina is around. She got a little bit hurt by her words and never tried to befriend her after that so they're only polite to eachothers, nothing more.

*I'm not sure if I choose the right department for her to be honest, nothing really fited so since cooking can be considered an art I made her part of the Fine Art department.

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (129/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[18 August, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

"Treekul! I need your help."

Guwar found her in one of the common rooms of the cult's underground complex. He hadn't seen her since they first arrived together on Nagaoka. At first, he had been too occupied with his indoctrination and the rituals that followed. Later, when he rose through the ranks to become one of the cult's Executants, he had greater privileges, but he was too busy with various missions to wonder what had happened to her. But now, when she was the only one on the planet who could help him, he discovered that she was much easier to track down than he expected.

The alien woman looked up from the yellowed parchment she was reading and her eyes lit up at the sight of him. "Guwar!" she cried out. "I was starting to think I'd never see you again."

She met him in the middle of the room and embraced him somewhat awkwardly. They had never exactly been friends to begin with, and their current positions in the cult didn't call for much fraternization. Fortunately, the others in the room were of lower rank, and dared not to question the behavior of a Priestess and an Executant.

"Listen," she said as she pulled him close so no one else could hear. "I need to talk to you. Alone."

"As you command, Priestess," Guwar said immediately, making sure everyone could hear. "Right this way."

He hadn't been expecting her to need anything from him, but it made things simpler that way. When they first came to Nagaoka, Guwar had assumed that Treekul would be executed immediately. She wasn't a Saiyan like the rest of them, after all. Surprisingly, she was allowed to live among them, even receiving the rank of priestess. But instead of robes, she was fitted with a strange dress of red strips of fabric, and he had never known her to provide any counseling. Guwar didn't know what to make of it, but he was more concerned with his own problems instead of figuring out her status.

"If you needed to speak with me so badly, why didn't you just summon me?" Guwar asked in a low voice when they were in an empty hallway.

"I didn't know I could," Treekul said. "You mean it was that easy?"

"You're a priestess," he said. "We're bound to follow your orders."

"Yeah, but I don't want the boss to know what I'm up to," she said.

"The boss?"

"Trismegistus," Treekul said. "I just started calling him that at some point and... Oh, it doesn't matter."

"Well, if anyone asks, you can tell them you're helping me," Guwar said. He led her to his quarters and swung open the door. "I need to understand something and you're the only one who can decipher--"

"We need to get out of this place," she said the moment the door was closed. "Right now."

"You're forbidden to leave, Treekul, everyone knows that. Trismegistus made it very clear."

"Did he tell you why?" Treekul asked.

"You're an alien," he said. "You could betray our secrets."

"Then why did he make me a priestess?" Treekul asked. "Why is he training me in alchemy? Why didn't he just kill me from the start?"

"He has some use for you," Guwar said. "And if you would have preferred execution so badly, I'm sure you could have found a way by now. You still live because you must see the truth in this place. Don't deny it."

"He's insane," Treekul said. "All he cares about is controlling people, and some bizarre plan for the Saiyan species. He's only keeping me around for his own amusement!"

"That's his right!" Guwar said. "You should be honored he's letting you learn from him at all. The Jindan power won't work on you because you're not a Saiyan. If he can impart some of his wisdom to you, then you could become a great help to us--"

"Sure, that'd be great," Treekul said. "The only trouble is that he isn't teaching me anything at all. He's just putting me through pointless exercises to keep me busy, or to test my compliance."

"He's testing your resolve," Guwar said. "You can't learn the deeper secrets unless you've proven your dedication to his teachings. Don't you get it? He could make you so much more than you already are, if you'd just let him."

"All I want," Treekul said, "is to get as far away from this planet as I can."

"Then cooperate," Guwar said. "The Executants and other priests are allowed to come and go as we please, because Trismegistus trusts us to carry out his will." He grabbed a stack of papers from his writing desk and shoved them into Treekul's arms. "You can start by checking my work."

"What is all of this?" Treekul asked.

"Trismegistus ordered me to calculate a mathematical model of the war effort," he explained. "The tactics don't make much sense from a conventional standpoint, but he told me that it was all based on geomantic adjustments."

"He's tampering with galactic ley lines?" Treekul asked. "That's crazy."

"It's brilliant," Guwar said. "Luffa can kill all of our warriors, but it won't do her any good in the long run. Eventually the galactic ley lines running through Federation space will be permanently shifted to ensure our ultimate victory. Trismegistus wants me to refine the calculations to improve the process."

"You can't just move cosmic ley lines," Treekul said. "It would take more power than... No. He could do it, couldn't he?"

"The trouble I'm having is that I keep running into a brick wall on the math," Guwar said. "His methods are based on an algorithm by another alchemist, the first Trismegistus, he said, but that work was for a smaller scale. I'm sure I could adapt it, except the algorithm itself doesn't make any sense. It doesn't look like it would work at all, which means any model I build will also fail. I've gone over it a hundred times, and I think I'm missing something on the geomancy side of things. That's where you come in."

"Me?" Treekul asked. "What good can I do?"

"It's no different from when we collaborated on the search to find this planet," Guwar said. "You used a geomantic compass to triangulate the locations of alchemical artifacts. This is just the same thing on a bigger scale."

"I don't..." she trailed off as she looked at the papers he had given her. For a moment, it was like it was before they found Nagaoka. He was a Saiyan mathematician, and she was an archaeologist specializing in alchemical artifacts. Guwar had come to despise those times, before the Jindan potion increased his strength, and made him a somebody for the first time in his life. And he was certain that she had grown as well. Whatever Trismegistus had taught her, he was sure that it had made her more powerful. She still opposed the cult in her heart, but she couldn't help but improve in this kind of environment. And working together, they could do almost anything...

After a few moments, she shook her head and shut her eyes tightly. "Guwar this is nothing like what we did before. Using the ley lines to find a planet, that's one thing, but what Rehval is proposing is just..."

"All I need is for you to verify the core principles of geomancy," Guwar said. "The algorithm has to work, Treekul, or he wouldn't be using it, but the computer can't make heads or tails of it, so--"

"What computer?" Treekul asked.

"On the ship I'm using. Rehval has one set aside for me to use for my work."

"Then you can take me off the planet," Treekul said. "You Executants can come and go as you like, right? I'll help you with this, but you have to smuggle me out of here, drop me off on some other world. That's my price."

"I can't do that," Guwar insisted. "I have a lot of pull here, but not enough to take you away from the master. He'd remove my Jindan power for sure."

"Would that really be so bad?" Treekul asked.

"Are you kidding?" Guwar said. "I'd be even weaker than I was when you first met me."

"That never mattered to me before," Treekul said. "I... well, I respected you as a scholar. That, and the whole space pirate thing you had going for you. That was pretty cool."

"Well that wasn't enough," Guwar said. "Not for me. I wanted more from you than respect, woman. But I could tell you weren't interested, not the way I was before."

"I didn't think you'd be interested in me," she said. "Besides, Endive was crazy about you, and I didn't want to try to get in the way of that."

"Endive?" he asked. "That's ridiculous. She wants nothing to do with me. Even now, when I've become as powerful as I am."

He wanted to believe her, of course. The truth was, Guwar was interested in them both, but with Endive, it was more of a matter of lust and pride. The idea of such a magnificent specimen at his side was very captivating, but Treekul had Endive beat on personality. He could have conversation with Treekul, and her strange hair and lavender skin had grown on him over the time they had spent together. For a moment, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that strength didn't matter, and that both women were infatuated with him at the same time, and they had just been too intimidated by his brilliance to make a move.

"Rehval has her so brainwashed that she only wants what he tells her to want," Treekul said. "Just like he has you running in circles trying to solve his equations."

And that was the proof Guwar needed, the proof that Treekul was lying to him. For he knew that the cult hadn't brainwashed any of them. It had simply reinforced truths they had all known from the beginning. The supreme value of strength, the importance of ruthlessness. Endive outranked him, so if she was truly in love with Guwar, she could have ordered him to her bed whenever she wanted. But she never did, because she was waiting for him to prove his worth, one way or another. And he would. Rehval Trismegistus had promised Guwar great rewards for completing this model, and Endive would be one of them.

"I don't buy it," Guwar said. "You're a priestess, aren't you? If you wanted me so badly, what's stopping you? I'll do anything you ask, short of taking you off the planet."

"Yeah, well that's not how I like to socialize," Treekul said. "I didn't ask for any of this, and I'm not going to exploit my 'power' over the rest of you like that. And even if I was willing to stoop that low, I wouldn't waste time on you now. I liked the Guwar from before. This guy I'm talking to now.... I... I don't know who you are anymore."

They stood there silently for a minute or two, and then Guwar shook his head and pointed at the door.

"Enough of this," he said. "Work on the equations or don't. I'll give you whatever I can in return, but I still can't take you off the planet. There's no use discussing that."

"Oh, I'll help you, Guwar," Treekul said. "It's not like I have anything better to do with my time, and it seems to be the only way I can get through to you."

Guwar thanked her for her cooperation as she left, but he doubted that she would take the problem seriously. At the very least, he could be certain that she wouldn't tell Rehval that he was having trouble with his assignment. She was so suspicious and paranoid towards the Master that he doubted that she would tell him much of anything. And even if Guwar had no intention of giving her a lift in his ship, he could still use that as a bargaining chip to keep her quiet. He sighed and returned to his notes. He would work in his quarters for a while, then return to the ship to check his figures against the computer. Treekul had helped in one sense, at least. Even if she didn't check his work, she still gave him the motivation to solve this problem, if only to prove to her that Trismegistus truly was the great man he claimed to be. Treekul was a reasonable woman, and once he laid out the calculations for her, she would have no choice but to accept the truth. Even if it took weeks to sort things out, Guwar was certain he could find the answer. The numbers wouldn't lie.

*******

[15 September, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

The numbers just wouldn't add up.

It was all supposed to tie together. The algorithm was supposed to work, and all he would have to do was refine the calculations and build a more robust mathematical model for Rehval's plans. Each battle was supposed to tug on the cosmic ley lines that supposedly governed the currents of fate in the galaxy. It was all supposed to work.

Only it didn't. He had gone over the figures for over a week now, and they simply didn't fit. Guwar had checked and double-checked the numbers, and the results just didn't match up with Rehval's plans. Rehval had boldly predicted victory within months. Guwar couldn't even extrapolate a duration of time that was a real number.

So he checked population growth models and tried to determine if the Jindan cult's population was sustainable. It would be, provided a stable birth rate, and with the cult's emphasis on breeding, that seemed to be a safe assumption. But that only meant the war with the Federation would go on indefinitely. Rehval could keep sending cultists to invade the Federation, and Luffa would continue to kill them, and he would have more to make good the losses.

What did that leave? Luffa wasn't immortal. Eventually she would die of old age, and the stalemate would be broken. But that would eventually happen anyway. If Trismegistus's grand scheme was to wait out the clock, he could do it without squandering his resources. Instead, Rehval had insisted that victory was imminent, and the lives he had sacrificed at the front would not be in vain.

And Guwar believed him. He had believed him before, and he still did now. Rehval was Trismegistus, the Holy Inventor of Jindan, the King of the Saiyans, the One Who Would Transform the Universe. He had transformed Guwar, changing him from a nobody into a great man. It was all true. It had to be true.

Because if it wasn't true, then Trismegistus was a fraud.

If it wasn't true, then Guwar wasn't a great man. Being an Executant was meaningless. He was nothing more than a patsy, no matter how strong the Jindan potion had made him.

He didn't want it to be a lie. And so he checked his figures again. And again. And again. He searched for proofs that would save him from the dilemma. He racked his brain for theorems that could help him escape. In the end, all of his mathematical skill could only offer him a more beautiful expression of the same problem. Rehval's geomantics plans would make perfect sense. The war would end in Jindan victory precisely when he said it would. Beginning with that premise and working backwards, Guwar could solve the equations and find the conditions necessary to support that truth. In the end it boiled down to a simple falsehood:

Two equals three.

This non-answer stared him in the face as he feverishly re-checked his work. It had been staring him in the face the entire time. He had already established that Rehval's strategy was impossible. "Two equals three" was just another way of saying it. Two, of course, did not equal three, and never could.

The contradiction was too awful for him to put into words. It was like being diagnosed with a terminal disease, only Guwar considered this much, much worse. At least a doctor could be wrong, or a patient's body might prove more resilient than anyone imagined. Even the hardest sciences allowed for a slim chance of things turning out differently. The law of gravity was only "true" until someone found a way to prove it false. That was incredibly unlikely, but never impossible.

Two, however, was incapable of being Three. There was no bargaining with this, no semantic argument to be made. A layman or a freshman philosophy student might blithely wonder if numbers really had any meaning after all. But Guwar was a mathematician, and his training forbade him from dismissing this, no matter how badly he wished otherwise.

The numbers didn't lie. They couldn't lie. Worst of all, it had been Trismegistus who told him to consult the numbers in the first place. Trismegistus, the Thrice Blessed, had made a mistake. There could be no new model, because the algorithm is was to be based upon simply couldn't work.

And as his mind raced for a solution to his dilemma, he considered checking with Treekul, to see if she had come up with something he could use to make sense of all of this. It mathematics couldn't save his faith in Rehval, then maybe alchemy would. But first, he remembered what she had said to him in his quarters.

"He's just putting me through pointless exercises to keep me busy, or to test my compliance."

He hadn't taken her words seriously at the time, but now he began to wonder. Was this just another pointless exercise? If Rehval would waste Treekul's time, why wouldn't he do the same to Guwar? Was all of this just a test to see what Guwar would do? Was he supposed to admit that the task was impossible to prove his honesty? Or did Rehval expect him to falsify his results to demonstrate his blind obedience? Or had Rehval gone mad, and he truly had no idea how flawed his plans truly were?

No matter how Guwar looked at it, he had spent the last six weeks in a spacecraft for no good reason.

He would have to come out sometime, and what was he going to do when he finally did?

*******

[16 September, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

He found Treekul in her quarters. It was a violation of protocol to barge in on a priestess without being summoned, but he was past caring about such things. She didn't move from her desk.

"You were right," he said. "You were right about everything. We have to get out of here."

"Who's 'we', Guwar?" Treekul asked. She didn't bother looking up from her work. "I'm getting out of here, on my own terms. Are you asking me to invite you along?"

"Rehval's lying to us," Guwar said. "He asked me to verify his claims... no, he told me to, but I can't. The numbers just don't line up. He doesn't care about winning the war, he just wants me to tell him what he wants to hear."

"Who are you trying to convince here, Guwar?" Treekul asked. "Me or yourself?"

"I'm trying to tell you that I'm on your side now!" he hissed. "I want out. I'll do whatever it takes to get out. If we work together, we'll have a much better chance of--"

She looked up from the grimoire she was reading and smiled distantly at him. "You really think it's that simple?" she asked. "I've had time to think it over, and it just won't work. Twenty minutes after he notices you're gone, he'll withdraw the Jindan power from you. You'll lose all the power you've gained in this place, and then some."

"You... you said you didn't care about that," Guwar asked.

"On a personal level, I don't," Treekul said. She finally rose to her feet and looked him in the eye. "The point is that you'll be no match for whoever they send after us. And they will send someone. Endive, probably. She knows where I live. Hell, Rehval probably extracted all sorts of information from me with his potions, and I don't even know about it. I'll probably never see my home planet again."

"They didn't send anyone after Salziff when he left the cult," Guwar countered. He was a little surprised by the desperation he heard in his voice. Salziff had been their last lead in their search for Nagaoka. It was strange now, to think back to a time when Guwar so badly wanted to find this planet, and now he wanted to leave. He tried not to think about how weak and sick Salziff had been, or how Salziff had warned them to stay away from the cult. All he wanted to remember now was that Salziff had quit the cult and lived to tell about it.

"Salziff didn't quit, he was kicked out," Treekul said. "And losing the Jindan power turned him into an invalid. Is that how you'd want to end up? Don't you get it? They let him go because he was no threat to them. If anything, they used him as free advertising. If he kept his mouth shut, fine, but if he told anyone what he knew, it would only attract other Saiyans curious about how to get stronger. It's how we ended up here in the first place."

She picked up her stylus and poked Guwar's vest with it. "Salziff was a rule-breaker. They made an example out of him. You, on the other hand, Executant Guwar, have an outstanding service record. You're in too deep. You know too much about the cult and how it works. Rehval shared his war plans with you, for pity's sake. He can't let you go."

A chill ran down Guwar's spine, and he felt like something inside his head was collapsing in on itself. "I... I hadn't thought of that," he said.

"Of course not. Why would you? You thought you were on the winning side, right up until you checked his math. That's how he breaks people, Guwar. He gives them everything they thought they wanted, and then, when it's too late to back out, he betrays them somehow. He doesn't want us to trust him. He wants us to serve him even though we don't trust him."

A glimmer of hope suddenly dawned on him. "Then... maybe the plans he asked me to check were a phony," he said. "He was just testing me to see if I'd defy him."

"No," Treekul said, snuffing his idea before he could even consider it. "If the plans were fake, there'd be no test. He wants you to know what he's up to, and that it won't work the way he tells everyone. That way, if you continue to serve him, he'll know he rules you completely, in spite of your better judgment. If you cut and run, then it only proves you weren't worth having in the first place."

"I don't believe this," Guwar said, planting his hands over his face. He turned away from Treekul and lowered his head, as if trying to hide from the truths she was speaking.

"You had the right idea from the start, Guwar," Treekul said. "I can't escape, not the way I am. The only chance I have is to learn from Rehval, until I have enough power to escape him without being hunted down."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Guwar said. "He's not going to teach you how to leave this place!"

"Not directly," Treekul said. "It'll take a while. I'm an alchemical historian, not an alchemist like him. I'll never reach his level, but there's things I can find that he won't know to look for. Take a look at this."

He turned and saw her smiling as she pointed at a page from the grimoire she had been studying. Among the lines of tiny, alien characters and symbols, there was a woodcut image depicting a crude diagram of the galaxy, with various lines criss-crossing it like a spider's web. Surrounding this were various alchemical notations, along with an inscrutable face in the galactic center, which implied that the galaxy itself was a living thing.

"Rehval claims he can manipulate cosmic ley lines," Treekul explained. "I thought that was impossible, and maybe it is, on the scale he's talking about--"

"It is impossible," Guwar insisted. "I wouldn't be talking to you right now if it wasn't!"

"Maybe so," Treekul continued. "But these texts suggest that you can nudge them a little. A primeval Makyan used a spell to camouflage his planet from geomantic triangulation. I'm betting Rehval used something similar to hide this world. If I can learn how to do it myself, I can create a refuge where he'll never find me."

Guwar couldn't believe what he was hearing. "'If'?" he asked. "You don't even know if he can do it. How long will it take you to learn?"

"Like I said," Treekul replied. "It's a long game, but it's the best chance I have. In the meantime, I'll have to figure out how to counterfeit enough precious metals to pay the bills while I'm in hiding."

"We don't have time for that!" Guwar said. "If he learns what we're planning, he'll--"

"He already knows I don't want to be here," Treekul said. "He's toying with me, so the only choice I have is to play along and wait for an opening. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really need to get back to this..."

She turned to resume her reading, but Guwar grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her out of her chair. "You little fool!" he growled. "You said yourself that this is exactly what he does to control people! All you'll end up doing is entangling yourself even further!"

"What's your point?" Treekul said. "I'm already trapped here. Worst case scenario, I get so drawn into this world of his that I end up enjoying it. You and Endive don't seem to mind."

Guwar's eyes went wide with horror. Treekul was his only ally in this nightmare, and she had practically resigned herself to her fate. He had never felt so alone. Even when he had literally been alone, he had always felt enough confidence in his ability to overcome any obstacles. Now, there was only himself and his power, and these belonged Trismegistus, who surrounded him on all sides.

He lowered Treekul back to her seat, and she returned to her work. There was the chance, however slight, that her plan might be his only salvation, but he doubted it. The look he had seen in her eyes was all too familiar. He had seen it in the faces of all the other Saiyans who had sold their souls to Trismegistus, only to swallow their regret later on. Like them, Treekul would tell herself she was biding her time, and Rehval would just manipulate her into doing his bidding.

The same thing would happen to him, sooner or later. The longer he remained here, the tighter Rehval's grip would become.

And so, Rehval turned and ran. If Treekul realized that they would never see each other again, she didn't bother to react. Guwar himself felt strangely empty about it. It was as though he knew he ought to care, but couldn't bring himself to do so. He supposed that if he made it to safety, he would have plenty of time later to regret leaving her behind.

*******

Leaving Rehval's base of operations was exceedingly simple. As an Executant, Guwar knew where all the ships were kept, and he had license to requisition one at any time, no questions asked. He briefly considered taking steps to cover his tracks, like entering false data into the flight log to throw off any pursuers. He also considered sabotaging the rest of the fleet to slow down the inevitable manhunt. But he dismissed these ideas almost immediately. The longer he delayed his departure, the greater the risk that he would be caught before he could even get off the planet. Like so many of his past adventures in space piracy, his best chance lay in outer space, where the playing field would be somewhat more level. There, he could pit the technology of his own stolen ship against those that followed him. Rehval could remove the Jindan power from him at any moment, but it wouldn't diminish his own skills as a pilot.

And so, he simply returned to the science vessel he had been using for his work, and launched it into orbit. He charted a course towards Mundokuul, then set the ship to proceed along in the opposite direction. There were no inhabited planets along that path, but he planned to alter course several hours later. With any luck, he could throw his pursuers off-balance by heading for nowhere in particular. Eventually, he would find a spaceport, steal another ship, and repeat the process until he was far enough away to breathe a little easier.

But he knew that wouldn't solve anything in the long term. He knew that Rehval had the means to track him down, however long it might take. Treekul's talk of "nudging" cosmic ley lines to create a hiding place seemed far-fetched to him. Still, the very fact that she was seriously considering it meant that Rehval would be very difficult to avoid. He believed that it was best to act immediately and risk the consequences of his haste, but now that he had taken that step, he began to appreciate just how weak his position really was.

As the hours passed, he also found time to second-guess his decision to leave. All he had left was his Executant uniform, which was meaningless in the outside universe. The privileges that came with it-- the food, the women, the authority-- were all behind him now. He was back to being plain old Guwar again. Less than Guwar, really, once the Jindan power was finally removed from his body. If Treekul had come along, it might have made things easier for him. Now, all he had left was abstract solace of mathematics. For however long it lasted, he was free once again to admit that two was not equal to three.

Perhaps mathematics was all that remained for him in life. He had plundered planets to sate his Saiyan craving for battle, but the galaxy had clearly become too intense a place for a small fry like him. The future would be dominated by monsters like Rehval and Luffa, and those who served them. All that remained for men like Guwar was to struggle to stay out of their way.

"At least I've had some practice staying one step ahead of the monsters," Guwar mumbled aloud to himself. "I managed to keep away from Luffa, so how bad can Rehval be...?"

Then it suddenly hit him. Luffa. The only reason the Super Saiyan had ever persecuted him was because she was hunting Rehval. And now, here he was, running away from Rehval because he knew too much about his organization. He had been so worried about Rehval punishing him for treason that he never stopped to consider why it would be so important to Rehval in the first place.

As he consulted the star charts for the distance to Federation space, he considered the risks. Luffa might destroy him on sight, thinking him to be an enemy. The Jindan Saiyans currently attacking the Federation might turn against him as well, assuming Rehval informed them of his betrayal. On the other hand, Guwar knew Rehval's war plans, including when and where he planned to deploy his forces. Surely that intelligence would be enough to get him into Federation territory without being attacked.

And then, even as he began to feel some semblance of confidence in his survival, he felt a strange tingle in his body. It began in his abdomen, and radiated outward. Guwar had never experienced the Withdrawal before, and though he had expected it, he had no idea how it would feel when it finally happened. Acting more on instinct than anything else, he got up from the pilot's seat of his ship, and retreated to the rear cabin, where he sought the relative comfort of the cot mounted to the inner hull. Instead, he was assailed with an intense pain, and he collapsed onto the deck.

As he lay in a fetal position on the floor, he clutched at his stomach with fingers that were so numb that he felt like they belonged to someone else. He saw a purple aura surrounding his body, and it seemed to grow brighter as the pain increased. Guwar was tempted to beg for mercy, but he bit his lower lip instead. There was no one to hear his pleas, even if he made them. At least if he endured this agony in silence, he could preserve some small remnant of his Saiyan pride.

And then, just when it seemed that it would never stop, and he would be unable to endure any more, the pain vanished, leaving him only with the traumatic memory of the suffering it had caused him. Gingerly, Guwar rose to his knees, and as he pulled himself onto the bunk, he sensed his own ki, now purged of the Jindan power, and diminished.

He was surprised by how empty it felt. By his estimate, Guwar figured he was now about as strong as he had been at ten years old. Strangely, he was grateful for this, as he had feared he would lose much more than that. But the true dread he felt was at the absence of Jindan in his body. He felt like an empty vessel, bereft of purpose. In a way, it hurt worse than the physical pain that was still fresh in his mind. Now, at last, he realized why Rehval was so eager to use the Withdrawal to punish his unruly followers. The loss of Jindan, however temporary, was far more terrible than the ecstasy of receiving it.

Guwar lay on the bunk for several hours after that, with only his despair to keep him company while he waited for his ship to reach the next stop on his journey. When the computer finally called out to him to request a new heading, it took him forty-three minutes to pull himself together and return to the controls. He would go to the Federation and find Luffa, no matter the risk, if only for the slim chance of repaying Trismegistus for what Guwar had just endured.

*******

"You could have gone with him," Rehval said. He had just received the report of the stolen starship, and he had completed the mystic ritual he used to withdraw his alchemical power from Guwar. With that task completed, he reclined in the chaise lounge in the middle of his study. "Some would consider it a rather romantic adventure. The two of you together, roaming the galaxy in exile."

"You'd find him eventually," Treekul said. She was sitting on the floor, studying parchments she had arranged in a semicircle around herself. "And you would have him killed, I assume."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Rehval said. "Guwar has served me with distinction up until now. Perhaps he needs some time away to remind him of where his home truly is. He might still be redeemed."

"And if I had gone with him?" Treekul asked.

"Then I would have had you brought back here, alive and unharmed," Rehval said. "So it would be a pointless journey, but I suppose you could have enjoyed it as something of a vacation."

"I'd rather focus on your lessons," she said. "It's a much better use of my time, isn't it?"

"I'm gratified to hear you say that," he said. "With Guwar absent, I'll need everyone to work that much harder to pick up the slack. Now, I believe you asked me to teach you about ley lines."

"The texts you provided me are incomplete," she said. "I've run across this sort of thing before. The ancient masters would encode their greatest secrets using an energy imbalance. Too much sulfurous essence, or not enough, and you can't see the text well enough to read it."

Rehval smiled. "The key is to balance the sulfurous essence with the mercurial," he explained. "An influx of masculine energies to counter the feminine, for example. Any man would suffice, but only I have the expertise to do it properly. Assuming you're interested, of course."

She rose from the floor and approached him. "Well, why not?" she asked. "I've come this far, after all."

He embraced her when she was close enough, and they shared a kiss to begin the process.

NEXT: Luffa's Test.

[gardenofkore]

“As you enter the church your eyes will be at once be attracted to the figure of the Madonna Nera and Child dominating the nave from their angel-born throne above the High Altar. The wooden statue, above 1 m high, with Nigra sum Sed formosa inscribed underneath, shows a great resembling between Mother and Child, both sumptuously crowned and robed in white and gold. Her face recalls that of a gypsy or a good witch, not dissimilar to her sisters of Dijon and Guadalupe.Her legend is as follows: She was brought from the east on a ship forced to seek safe heaven in the bay, which was once the splendid ancient harbour of Tyndaris.After the storm the ship would not move until the sailors disembarked the image in the place the Madonna had chosen. She was carried up the hill to the small church that had been built on the ruins of the Temple of Cybele, since when her cult has never ceased to flourish.”

Ean C. M. Begg, The Cult of the Black Virgin, p. 277-278

----

“When we review the attributes of the goddesses, from the early civilization of Sumer to the highly artistic civilizations of Greece and Rome, we discover that the characteristics they [Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene] shared were physical beauty, virginity, association with the moon and the tragic death, or deliberate sacrifice, of a sonlover.With this in mind, consider the image of Mary, mother of Jesus. She is worshiped as the Virgin Mary. Indeed, it is her virginity (the state of being chaste, not the original meaning of the word) which sets her apart from other women. Mary is also associated with the cosmos, often being called Queen of Heaven. To depict her heavenly beauty, she is frequently pictured enthroned on the moon. Her primary association is with her son, who is sacrificed; Mary's role as a wife is negligible. Despite these parallels with the image of the goddess, Mary is conventionally associated solely with the maternal aspect of the feminine—static and protective. The dynamic, transforming aspect, related to the passion, sexuality and fertility of the love goddesses, is conspicuously lacking.

However, there are other correlations between Mary and the ancient chthonic goddesses which, though not commonly known, are operative in collective consciousness. In a small number of cathedrals throughout Europe, both in popular and isolated places, a black madonna is venerated. She is not the more familiar, angelic madonna in the blue cloak, but one as black as the earth itself. She belongs to the lower world, not the heavenly realm.From prehistoric times, as early as thirty thousand years before the beginning of the Christian era, comes the Black Venus of Lespugue, carved from a mammoth tusk, now preserved in the Musée de l'Homme in Paris. As she predates a time when any knowledge of agriculture existed, she is more than earth; she is Life itself. Other black feminine images, symbolic of the chthonic life force, have been worshiped throughout the ages.

In Tindari, on the coast of Mediterranean in eastern Sicily, a black statue of the madonna bears the inscription, nigra sum sed formosa -”I am black, but comely”- from the Song of Solomon 1:5. Christian scholars interpret this passage as referring to a bride, the Virgin Mary as Ecclesia, uniting in marriage with the bridegroom, her son Christ. It appears to be founded in the sacred marriage rite of Ishtar and Tammuz, since there are many parallers between the ancient cuneiform tablets and this Old Testament text. Could not this “black and comely” madonna be a product of the far more ancient image of the goddess?

[...]

When women adapted to the religious tenets of the patriarchy, they also accepted man's image of his anima as an accurate reflection of feminine nature. They thereby lost their connection to the genuine feminine, including the chthonic aspects represented by the black madonna.Many black madonnas are currently valued as religious symbols, but far more numerous are images of the conventional "blue" madonnna. The latter, as anima, inspired men to build impressive cathedrals and create beautiful works of art, but she lacks a crucial dimension of feminine nature. The black madonna, associated with both the earth and fertility, is an image of the divine feminine reflecting the ancient connection between women's nature and the goddess of love. Through her, the Great Goddess still lives in Christianity.”

Nancy Qualls-Corbett, The sacred prostitute: eternal aspect of the feminine, p. 152-154

  ----

“According to the legendary arrival of the Black Madonna of Tindari, the ship that was carrying her image was forced to take anchor in the Bay of Tindari in a storm, and was not allowed to sail until her image was taken from the ship, where it was then carried to the former temple site of the Goddess Cybele. 

[...]  

 The sanctuary of Tindari sits on a high bluff on the northern shore of Sicily. A woman from a far-away country had come to fulfill a vow to the Madonna of Tindari for saving her little girl's life. When the woman reached the sanctuary, after a long journey, she openly expressed her disillusionment upon seeing that the Madonna's face was black. The moment she expressed her irreverence, her little girl, who had wandered away from her mother, fell from a cliff. The woman called upon the Madonna to again save her child's life. But the miracle had already happened - the sea had withdrawn so the girl could fall on soft sand. The woman now believed in the divine powers of the Madonna she had mocked and the sea stayed at a distance permanently as a reminder of what had happened. 

[...] 

Sometimes the versions of a story of a punishing miracle varied, with important details missing. Only one of several sources mentioned the punishment by the Madonna of Tindari,for example. Carroll also cites a case in which a modern account of a miracle leaves out the harmful details included in older accounts.This leads me to wonder whether elements of other stories have been dropped over time. Considering the patterns in the body of above miracles, at one time there may have been a full cycle of the Madonna's anger, punishment, forgiveness and healing in more of them. Perhaps, like the alteration of the dark color of the images that other scholars and I have found, elimination of the details of the stories is a kind of "emotional whitening," a gradual removal of the Madonna's "full" range of power, including those we might consider to be negative.I must state that I never got a sense at any of the dozens of Black Madonna sanctuaries I visited that these most powerful Madonnas were feared. On the contrary they appeared to be greatly beloved. The fervor and devotion was palpable. I observed the utter closeness of the people to the Madonna. The Black Madonnas of Montevergine, Somma Vesuviana, and Napoli are all addressed as Mamma, a clearly familiar form of address. Songs and prayers use familiar (rather than formal) pronouns and indicate an endearing and close relationship. Chiseled in marble above the area where the painting of the Black Madonna of Montevergine once hung are the words which translate "You Are Black And Beautiful, My Friend." 

The Black Madonna's devotees may feel reassurance from her ferocity, like the women in southern India who believe the fierce goddess Kali's power is there to protect them. Perhaps the severe punishment that was attributed to the Madonna's power was a way for the women to ensure the rules were respected, that the sacred was preserved, and to emphasize that the great honor due the Madonna must never be violated.” 

Mary Beth Moser, Blood Relics: Menstrual Roots of Miraculous Black Madonnas in Italy, p. 6; 9-11

 ----

“It is a well known fact that sanctuaries dedicated to Mary were often built on sites that were originally used for the veneration of pagan goddesses. The same development could have happened in regard to statues, particularly when the statue of the Virgin is black in color. Shrines of earthgoddesses were scattered all over Europe, as are venerated statues of the "Black Madonna," which can be found in great numbers from Great Britain to Hungary and Poland. In none of them with which I am familiar can negroid features be detected; therefore, they are not black because of their race. In some cases the material from which they are made is black; in other cases, it is claimed that accumulated dirt and soot may account for their color. This explanation, usually given by Roman Catholic scholars, does not explain why the whole body of the statue turned black, even under the clothing, and not just the face and hands. And what about those to which none of these arguments apply? One answer lies at hand: they are black because they represent earth, the mother of all. That Christians could so easily think of Mary as black should not be surprising. Not only was the relationship between Mary and the virgin earth long established, from quite early the Song of Songs was interpreted in the church in a Marian way. This love song was explained as referring to the relationship between Christ and the church, his bride; since the church was identified with Mary, the song could be also be applied to the love of God and Mary; and the female lover in the Song of Songs is black: "I am black but beautiful, Ο daughters of Jeruselem."

Thus nothing stands in the way of seeing in the veneration of the Black Madonnas a continuation of the popular piety with which the great mystery of earth was honored. In some areas of Europe the roots of this piety, such as that of the Celts, may go back to pre-Roman times. It may have been Artemis or Isis who inspired the cult. In Tindari, Sicily, the Madonna Nera is in a church erected on the site of a former sanctuary of Cybele.”

Stephen Benko, The Virgin Goddess: Studies in the Pagan and Christian Roots of Mariology, p. 213-214

[mermaider00]

Kiss the Girl || A Ventor Story

(Inspired by this gif) 

From the banks of the lake, an annoyed pair of yellow feline eyes watched closely through tall wet grass. The moon was out and the stars blinked above and the only sounds were the drifting of the water and the creatures of the night, but the fact that there wasn’t also lively conversation joining those sounds was a very annoying thing, indeed. Behind him, his tail swished and those yellow eyes narrowed. 

His purple princely kitten thought he could confine him to the temporary home on this wild planet, but Kova could always find a way out to check on him. His boy was motherless and practically fatherless, and Kova decided it was time for Lotor to no longer be without a mate as well. The green woman with antenna chosen as his aide was also perfect to be that mate. 

His kitten was a fool not to see how she wanted him. 

There they were, Kova thought, his unblinking eyes locked on them through the tall grass at the edge of the lake. In a small simple boat because the green woman had talked him into a little ride to help ease the stresses of their very busy day before they would head off to bed, alone. The cat wouldn’t place not one of his paws into the water so he could swim for a better look, but Kova could see them perfectly in the dark with his superior eyesight. His kitten, usually very attractive to females, was simply glancing at their surroundings as if studying like a scholar. The sky, the water, the foliage around them, what night creatures he could spot that would swim or fly on by, he wanted to see it all. 

His kitten was looking at everything but the lovely woman literally sitting right in front of him. 

Lady Ven’tar was the opposite, Kova saw. So much beauty around her... and she only wanted to keep her eyes on the prince. 

Silly kitten, Kova thought, rolling his eyes a bit. He would have to make things better for Lotor again. But Kova also knew that Lotor was afraid at this point in his life to allow anyone close to him, especially in these stressful times as Emperor Zarkon awaited the quintessence his son would take from this planet. 

Kova knew his kitten desired the green woman, so the cat decided to give him what he wanted. What they both wanted. 

He lifted himself from his crouching position along the banks, kept his long body low as if hunting for a small creature, and walked the perimeter of the lake while keeping his focused gaze on the boat in the water. The green woman was an empath, but Kova’s own powers given to him by quintessence were just as great. Reaching out to her, he helped tickle her susceptible mind with courage to talk to Lotor. 

“What do you like, liege?” Ven’tar suddenly said, surprised by the sound of her own voice. She felt a presence and even looked to the banks, but saw nothing there. 

Lotor looked to her, one white brow lifting. “What do I... like?” 

“Yes.” With one wave of her hand, Ven’tar used her power of manipulating water to create a current underneath their boat. Neither of them had to row or steer, but her power kept them moving along the surface. “What do you like doing with your time? When you’re not burdened by your princely duties or attempting to save my planet from destruction.” 

“I will save your planet from destruction.” 

Ven smiled at him. So close to the water, her eyes held the faintest glow. “I believe you. But when you aren’t doing such things, what do you enjoy? I feel as if I forced you into this boat. My intention wasn’t to make you uncomfortable, I assure you.” 

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” he told her, his back straight and hands in his lap. “I’ve never been in a boat before.” 

“No?” She perked up, her antenna twitching a bit in excitement at his confession. “I suppose that makes sense. The Galra are a star-faring race, after all.” 

“I have been in numerous designs of ships meant for space travel and land vehicles... but never a small boat.” And how small it was, Lotor thought, glancing at the water of the lake they drifted upon. One small bump and they might tip over, which would be disastrous, and possibly even dangerous. His blue eyes flicked back to her. “I enjoy reading when I have free time.” 

Ven’tar wore a simple long white dress with sleeveless straps and her usual cape over it. The white of her dress and green of her skin brought out the bright red of her eyes. “What about eating? I love to eat.” 

Lotor chuckled. “I’ve noticed. And it certainly doesn’t show on your slender frame. I eat when I must for nourishment and energy.” 

“Dancing?” 

“Only at banquets, when I’m forced to entertain those high in our ranks.” 

“Singing?” 

Lotor only stared at her and simply answered, “No.” 

Ven sighed softly, and glanced away to look at a passing tree growing from underneath the water of the lake. 

From the shore, Kova scrunched up his little nose. His kitten was dedicated and noble and driven to succeed, but he had lost himself to survival. An understandable thing, Kova knew, but Lotor was not allowing himself to enjoy anything around him, even a romantic boat ride with a lovely woman who desired him tremendously. 

Perhaps it wasn’t romantic enough, the cat mused. 

Up in a nearby tree, Kova spotted a flock of nighttime song birds, and rushed to climb the trunk with his claws swiftly before either his kitten or the green woman could spot him since they weren’t looking at each other. Balancing on the branches, he batted out one paw, his yellow eyes flashed as he sent out some quintessence stored inside him. 

The birds began to sing, some even flying over to other trees to surround the pair in the boat with a soft soothing song. Kova glanced down below from the branches as the boat glided under him. 

Ven drifted her fingertips through the water. “I like to swim,” she said softly. Her eyes then found the trees when she heard the birds begin to sing. “You might like swimming. I like to play with the lilypogs and feel the warm water on my skin.” 

Kova didn’t miss the way his kitten’s eyes fell to the green skin of her neck in longing. “I’m afraid I don’t know how to swim,” Lotor said to her. 

Her gaze found his, and for some reason she thought this new fact about him incredibly charming. She grinned. “No wonder you were apprehensive to a boat ride.” 

He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve never been given the opportunity to learn, unfortunately. I may only stand on the shore, but I enjoy watching you swim when we take a moment to rest.” 

The long dark lashes over her eyes batted some. A flirtatious gesture, Kova knew as he watched from the branches above. “I could teach you, if you’d like... Lotor.” 

He seemed to perk up at the mere suggestion. To be able to swim would come in handy, should he need such a skill. He was barely aware that she’d called him by his given name and not a title. “Could you?” 

Ven’tar beamed. “Oh yes! I would love to.” 

She was happy, so very happy, Kova saw. And with one click, she unhooked the latch and brushed the cape from her shoulders to bare them to him. Another flirtatious gesture. She was desperate to show him she was interested, and maybe seeing more of her skin would do it. 

Kova was quick to capitalize on this new development, and jumped from the overhanging branches onto a nearby tiny island sitting in the middle of the lake after they drifted on by. On the island grew light blue flowers, and with the gentle breeze, he swatted at them when the timing was right so that their petals would break off and be picked up within the wind. The breeze carried the petals to the water, and surrounded the boat in color. 

The song birds continued to sing around them. 

“I’m sure you would be an outstanding teacher, Ven’tar,” Lotor said. 

Not only was the water suddenly filled with flowers, but a few petals had dropped into their boat as well. Ven hardly saw them, her gaze was only for him. She even scooted forward a little to be closer to him. “Are you afraid?” she asked softly. 

A beam of bright moonlight reflected in her gaze. “No,” he answered, not minding their new closeness. “Should I be?” 

Ven shook her head, and her eyes glanced down at his mouth before returning to his blue hues again. “I would never let you drown.” 

Kova’s long blue ears twitched as he watched from the small island and anticipation bubbled inside him. They were so close, soon their mouths would meet and then they could finally mate. All this work would mean something and then he could take a nap and know his kitten would have a good night with the woman he desired and felt safe with. 

Ven’s eyelids lowered some as she stared at him, her lips puckered up for a kiss. She even leaned closer so he could meet her halfway. 

Nerves or fear or something else grabbed hold of Lotor, and with a slight frown, he pulled back and glanced away. 

Kova, even more annoyed than before, growled softly at his kitten for his foolishness. 

Ven’tar looked like she wanted to groan in disappointment, but only eased away to give him back his space as she continued to move the boat with her ability. On another soft sigh, she set her chin in her hand. 

What did a cat have to do around here to get these two buffoons to kiss? He’d already provided some very romantic atmosphere for them to spice up their boat ride on a lovely twinkling lake on the most beautiful planet he and his kitten had ever set foot on. Why wouldn’t he kiss her when her lips were puckered up and ready to receive his own? Why wouldn’t she just tell him how she felt? The woman was an empath, surely she knew how he felt in return? Why were they being silly and wasting time? Kova lifted himself high on his legs, swished his tail, dug his claws into the earth under him. He needed more, and leapt from the small island back to shore. His back paw flicked out when it slightly touched some of the disgustingly wet water. 

“Do you really mean that?” 

Ven blinked, then realized of course Lotor was speaking to her because they were the only ones around. “Really mean what?” she asked. 

He was quiet for a moment before he decided to answer instead of backtrack. With a slight swallow in his throat, he finally uttered, “When you said you would... never let me drown?” 

She drew her brows together as she pondered over his question. Kova, as he prowled the banks of the lake, knew she had to be smart and astute enough to know the meaning behind his words. She must know that he was asking her because he’d been drowning for a long time, with no one to grab him and pull him from the water where he could not breathe. That he was slowly suffocating in the dark and quiet and lonely depths. 

Kova then stopped, turned his head and peered at her through the grass. 

He watched as Ven took his kitten’s hand, held it gently in her own. 

“I mean it,” she told him softly, her lashes batting again. “I would do anything I could to save you. I... would do anything for you, Lotor.” 

Kova started purring when he saw Lotor grip her hand back, hold on tightly. His expression was intense as he stared at the green woman, as if nothing else around them mattered. 

Like if he blinked then she would vanish, and he would be left to drown. 

“Ven’tar,” Lotor said almost in a whisper. She was close to him again, and this time he wouldn’t back away. “I believe you.” 

Swift on his four paws, Kova spotted the perfect addition, and leapt into a nearby cluster of glow bugs to send them flying into the air. With the song birds singing and the wind and water carrying flowers and little twinkling lights of glow bugs blinking around them, Kova crouched down low, watched carefully. This is it, he thought. Please let this be it, he didn’t know what to do for them next. 

With her hand clutched in his, Lotor stared into her eyes now glittering with the light of glow bugs. He leaned forward when he watched those pretty eyes begin to close, when those pretty lips puckered up again. He couldn't seem to resist her now. Something about her, something about where they were, just the two of them. He closed his eyes, went for her mouth waiting for him. He could almost taste her already... 

The boat was still moving from the currents she was still controlling. Kova braced in excitement when their lips lightly touched. 

None of them saw the boulder jutting out from underneath the lake. And with Ven so distracted... 

Before they could properly kiss, the boat crashed into the boulder and flipped it over, flinging them both right into the water on a yelp. 

Oh no. 

Fear and worry had Kova standing up, his yellow eyes frantically searching the surface of the water and as far underneath it as he could see in the dark. The glow bugs flew away, the song birds did too, and the lake’s surface that had been nicely decorated with blue flowers was now very disturbed. Kova couldn’t swim, neither could his kitten. He paced back and forth in intense concern at the edge of the water as his little heart hammered inside him, desperate to see Lotor come up for air. 

He meowed in worry. Paced some more. Meowed again, hoping someone would come to help. 

Anxious now, he waited. 

Beneath the surface, the lake was deep and warm and dark. The Galra were solid beings and instantly Lotor felt like he was sinking to the floor of the lake, however far away it actually was. His armor and his boots weren’t helping him attempt to paw to the surface. His hair was in his eyes, and the only small bit of light he could manage to see was the dot of the pale moon. 

Of course this would be his death, he thought, feeling his lungs burn for air. Just as he makes the decision to learn to swim, he drowns. 

Of course he would die by drowning right before he kisses the one woman he’s been longing to kiss. 

Lotor felt a rush of water then, a quick current that sped over him, and a zip of white and green. When the floating tendrils of his hair moved away from his eyes, he saw Ven’tar coming for him. The white of her dress billowed around her like water wings, her long legs and little claw feet moving effortlessly as if she were flying in the air. Her eyes, somehow both frantic and relieved, glowed yellow in the water as she swam to him. The tips of her antenna gleamed too, probably reaching out for the emotional state of him. 

Swimming appeared to be as easy for her as walking upon the land. 

They reached out for each other at the same time. Ven grabbed him under his arms, instantly began kicking her claw feet towards the surface with large and powerful strokes to get him back to the air as quickly as she could. It didn’t matter where they breached the surface, only that they got there so he could fill his lungs with oxygen. 

Ven pushed him up first. Lotor sucked in as much air as he could on a great and loud gasp. His drenched hair was in his eyes and his claws instantly reached up, sinking into the wood of the capsized boat that hovered over them like a shelter so he wouldn’t sink again. 

“Are you okay?” Ven asked him, needing only her long legs to keep her above the surface, unlike him. As he continued to take deep breaths, she pushed his wet hair from his face, smoothing it all back. “You’re all right. Just breathe.” 

“You saved me,” he sighed, tightening his hold on the wood above him. If it weren’t for the boat over them like a dome, she would need to hold him up herself. 

“I told you I wouldn’t let you drown. And this wasn’t a very ideal way to begin swimming lessons, but look down at my legs. Just kick back and forth, back and forth.” 

Lotor copied her movements, though his legs didn’t yet look as graceful as hers in the water. The skirt of her white dress floated behind her like ghostly tendrils. 

“You’re okay,” she told him, smiling brightly. She could sense the pounding of his heart. “You’ll live to fight another day, my prince.” 

“Thanks to you, Ven’tar.” 

She set her hands on his shoulders, felt the constricting muscles there as he held himself up by the overturned boat. They just floated in the water like that, hidden under a dome of wood. “Perhaps we should begin those lessons tomorrow in the shallow pools back at home. I don’t mind rescuing you, of course, but in case I’m no longer with you, I couldn’t bear it if you sunk again.” 

They were so close, closer than when they sat in the boat. Mere inches apart and their legs practically tangled together in the lake. He’d almost drowned and would have had it not been for her. Lotor couldn’t stop staring at her, the only woman to save him because she couldn’t bear it if he sunk. 

He would sink without her, he realized then. 

His arms may not be able to hold her at the moment, but nothing would stop him now. So slowly he leaned in, slow enough that Ven knew he would kiss her. With her arms wrapping around his neck now, she met his lips with her own. 

Now her heart was pounding too, and it was a marvelous sensation. 

They both tasted like the fresh water of the lake, but also something hot and needy and desirable. It wasn’t the most romantic first kiss, or maybe it was the most romantic one either would ever have. And it was perfect, she thought as he kissed her. They may be half soaked under a useless boat and one of them unable to swim to shore by himself and her white dress may be clinging to the willowy curves of her body, but it was the most perfect moment she’d been waiting patiently for. 

Lotor deepened the kiss, forgot momentarily where he was. His instincts told him to hold her the way she was holding him, so he attempted to wrap his arms around her waist, forgetting completely he’d been holding onto the boat. 

Before he could sink again, his quick reflexes instantly wrapped around her middle in panic, groaning as his cheek now pressed against her drenched breasts. Ven had grabbed the boat in record time to keep them both up, and laughed at his sweet attempt to hold her. He held onto her middle as if his life depended on it, not caring one side of his face was right against an intimate part of her body. 

Ven only kissed the top of his head. “Let’s get you out of this lake and back on dry land where you belong.” 

On the banks, Kova kept meowing, even managed to get two front paws into the water in worry for his kitten, though the sensation was awful. Quickly he stopped when he saw two heads pop out of the surface from beneath the capsized boat, slowly making their way to the shore closest to them. Great relief filled him when he saw Lotor was alive and well and not a drowned corpse, being held and guided by the green woman who was getting them to land. Kova ducked low again, watched when their feet were able to touch the ground and Lotor took over to help her instead. Safe and sound and out of the water now, the two of them wrung out their soaked clothes, Ven’tar using her power to rid them of as much water as she could. She even helped dry his long hair. 

Something happened, Kova decided as he watched the two touch each other tenderly. Something under the boat maybe, after the green woman had saved his kitten from drowning. 

The woman then reached up to hold one of Lotor’s cheeks, and softly pecked his lips. 

Kova’s tail swished in glee and success. 

Apparently they hadn’t needed a romantic atmosphere or any kind of encouragement from a cat. Maybe it was just the mere thought of being without the other that drove them to confess their feelings, and act on them. 

It’s about time, Kova thought. 

But even though his kitten was safe and alive, Kova still kept his distance and silently followed them back to the home they all shared while stationed on this planet. Their hands were intertwined the entire way, he saw, Lotor’s claws locked with Ven’tar’s own long and nimble fingers. His kitten accompanied her to her room when they finally entered their home, his hand still holding hers as they said goodnight. 

Peeking around the corner in the dark hallway, Kova watched them kiss again, and couldn’t hear whatever it was Ven’tar whispered to him. With a knowing and beautiful smile, Ven opened her doors behind her, glided inside her room with one hand beckoning him. 

Enchanted by her, Lotor followed her inside and closed the doors behind them. 

Kova breathed out a sigh and finally sat to lick his paws. With great pride, he decided to take all the credit for giving his kitten a very memorable night with the woman he’d longed for. 

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Thanks for reading, and reblogs are appreciated <3

[whitherliliesbloom]

Illya’s Never-Ending Survey

Rules: Repost, do not reblog

Tagging: I’m sure most people have already done this so I’ll just tag those I know haven’t yet @ofthesilverlining​ , @windup-dragoon​ , @theadventuresofshuri​ and anyone else who hasn’t done this but wants to.

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Illya Skawi

NICKNAME: Magus of the white (by another OC of mine)

AGE: 19

BIRTHDAY: 31st Sun of the 6th Umbral Moon (31st December)

ETHNIC GROUP: Lalafell / Dunesfolk (Has a hint of hyur from her father)

NATIONALITY: Unknown. She comes from a rural countryside outside Eorzea

LANGUAGE/S: English

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Taken by Alphinaud in the main canon, supposedly single in other AUs.

HOME TOWN / AREA: Black Shroud

CURRENT HOME: Lavender Beds.

PROFESSION: Glorified errand girl, Adventurer, Medic

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Pure white, usually straight with bangs

EYES: Round and Violet

FACE: Soft, slightly rounded

LIPS: Pale, thin

COMPLEXION: Fair skinned, smooth

BLEMISHES: None

SCARS: Scars littering a good portion of her torso

TATTOOS: None

HEIGHT: 2′9′’

WEIGHT: 43 ponze

BUILD: Short, neither chubby nor very slender by lala standards, average

FEATURES: Glossy eyes, button nose, white hair that almost reflects the sun

ALLERGIES: None

USUAL HAIR STYLE: Usually loose with minimal styling, bangs just above her eyes and a white hair band

USUAL FACE LOOK: No make up

USUAL CLOTHING: Robes, Warm clothing, Armor suitable for whatever class she is, occasionally wears glasses. She’s not picky with her fashion at all.

VOICE CLAIM: Japanese voice: Hanazawa Kana. Something similar to her voice for Nadeko, Kanade and Shiori. English voice: Not a fixed voice actor but her in-game voice is this, which I think is pretty accurate to how she’d sound in English.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: Failure, Being abandoned, Polar Bears

ASPIRATION/S: Acquisition of all the knowledge and skills she can, To finally be someone who is of use to others

POSITIVE TRAITS: Kind, open-minded, intelligent, curious, hard-working, loyal,  cooperative, empathetic, observant, patient

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Pessimistic, shy, anxious, cowardly, emotionally fragile, envious, weak, passive, dependent, insecure

TEMPERAMENT: Melancholic MBTI: INFJ / ISFJ (she kind of tip-toes between both)

SOUL TYPE/S: The Scholar / Server

ANIMALS: Dwarf rabbit 

VICE HABIT/S: Hiding her face when she gets emotional, Twiddling her fingers together, Avoiding eye contact

FAITH: None

GHOSTS?: Debatable. She wonders if they are that different from voidsents

AFTERLIFE?: Probably

REINCARNATION?: Possible, but unsure ALIENS?: No

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: None

EDUCATION LEVEL:  Basic education

FAMILY.

FATHER : Lachlan Skawi, Midlander Adventurer, alive and active. A friendly, witty and adventurous man who can never stay in one place for too long. His sense of humor and persistence eventually causes a reclusive lalafellin farmer to open up her heart to him.

MOTHERS : Cocona Coruna, Half Dunesfolk Half Plainsfolk, alive and active. A stern, sharp-tongued but dedicated farmer who provides the strange adventurer shelter in her home after his journey by ship gets interrupted by a band of pirates wrecking the boat.

SIBLINGS : None

EXTENDED FAMILY:  None

NAME MEANING/S: None

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: None

FAVORITES.

BOOK: I have no idea but she loves reading a lot

DEITY: Nophica

HOLIDAY: Little Ladies’ Day

MONTH:  Second Umbral Moon. Usually when spring starts

SEASON: Spring

PLACE: Anywhere with lots of flowers. She’s understandably starstruck when she first visit Il Mheg

WEATHER: Clear skies

SOUND / S: Leaves rustling, Gentle breeze, Insects chirping, windchimes

SCENT / S: Anything floral, Freshly baked bread, Herbs

TASTE / S: SPICY, Fruits

FEEL / S: Texture of cotton or wool, warm blankets

ANIMAL / S: No real preference but probably birds

NUMBER: None

COLORS: Blue, purple

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Magic, cooking and baking, gardening, domestic chores

BAD AT:  Physically strenuous labor, Speaking, awful fashion sense

TURN ONS: Courage, Kindness, Altruism, Confidence (because she lacks it herself hah), Loyalty, Independence

TURN OFFS: Manipulation, Bad tempers, Sadism, Selfishness, Too domineering, Perversion or openly lustful behavior, Unnecessary violence

HOBBIES: Cooking or baking, gardening or farming, reading, writing, crochet, sightseeing. magic

TROPES: See this post

QUOTES : “It’s impossible... I’m just... I’m just too weak.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?       A1: She’s 100% not going to be the star of some action movie. I don’t know what title I’d give it, but probably a slow-paced melancholic movie focusing on character development driven narrative.

Q2: What would their soundtrack/score sound like?           A2: Pianos. Lots of piano tracks. Q3:  Why did you start writing this character?         A3: She just kind of happened. Getting into ffxiv, I wasn’t really expecting to come out of it with a new OC I’d be obsessing over. But as I grew more attached to the story and also came up with headcanons for the player character, Illya just sort of developed into her own character in my eyes.

Q4: What first attracted you to this character?         A4: Not sure if it counts but I was surprised just how much they made the player character so involved in the story, especially for an MMO. Her pro-activeness and continuously being willing to help and save others when I myself would have been too cynical to care made her endearing to me. 

Q5: Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5: I’d like to think she’s a complex character, given how I spend more time thinking about her flaws than actual strengths.. but I do sometimes wonder if she’s too ideal or mary sue-ish. Her aesthetic of flowers, magic and purple has got to be the most overused and cliche combination of aesthetics imaginable. Also she stutters a lot, which makes writing dialogue in her POV slightly annoying. Q6: What do you have in common with your muse?           A6: We’re both introverted and have self-esteem issues. We’re also both rather pessimistic, though for her she’s pessimistic in her beliefs of whether she’ll be able to live up to the expectations of others, while I’m pessimistic about everyone in general. Other than that I think we’re actually rather different. 

Q7: How does your muse feel about you?         A7: Dunno. She’d probably be really scared of me, I think. Q8: What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?       A8: If I had to go into detail about every interesting interaction she has I’d take another six hours to write but in a nutshell:  Meets her best friend and fellow WOL Laurelis near the start of ARR and grows more and more attached and comfortable around her as time goes on despite starting off rather wary and weirded out by her. Meets Alphinaud at the very beginning of ARR but doesn’t really bond personally with him until the very start of HW. They confess some time mid-Stormblood. She has interesting dynamics with other WOL OCs I have too, but they’re a topic for another day. Q9: What gives you inspiration to write your muse?     A9: Just my sheer love for her. I’ve grown to love her like I would any favourite character to the point she sometimes doesn’t feel like an OC anymore. Q10 : How long did this take you to complete?   A10 : Too long. Granted I tabbed in and out, doing different things all at once but I really shouldn’t have taken close to three hours to finish this.

[theotter99]

Uncovering Fables

Intermission 1.1

[Scrolls are an important way to keep our history and the events we go through in our minds. Our past is important and it gives lessons to learn so we can improve our future and not repeat the same mistakes. But sadly, we may not get the entire past. Does this mean we don’t learn from it or should we take the fact that something is missing as a lesson in itself?

The scrolls before our young adventurers is covered in blood and a green substance. At first the handwritten Japanese symbols on it is neat but as the story we are now reading continues the handwriting becomes more shaken and panicked.

This is the story of an unhumble and disobedient servant.] 

I accomplished something grand for my people today. 

It almost feels unreal that my research has been funded by our great emperor. Since childhood, my parents have pushed me study and cherish knowledge. I have obeyed their wishes and I continued in school even when my selfish mind wanted me to stop. Thankfully, I did not as I remembered that I must continue the legacy of our wonderful bloodline. It is full of great scholars that I can never live up to but hopefully just a small part of what I do for them will be remembered.

Still, it has taken several years of classes and dedication to my empire to accomplish just the funding of the research but the great emperor himself approved of it. Thinking back to my meeting with him, my heart was racing and as my knees landed onto the ground to bow to him, his presence overwhelmed me. His words felt like soft honey and the peaceful tweeting of birds. His wisdom overtook my senses and I wanted nothing more but to please him. 

I presented the idea of how we should do more study on the waters that surround our great island. If our people are to become more powerful and stronger then we should take advantage of what has been given to us. 

But then I almost felt our world freeze when the emperor stared at me after I explained this. He asked about the life and beauty of nature surrounding us and what I planned to do with it. Did I plan on upsetting the gods that have generously gave us the plants and animals? Did I plan to anger the spirits of this world by disrupting their home and destroying their lives? If I did that, then all I was asking for was the world attacking me and my people.

The denial on his face was clear and I quickly promised to him and to my ancestors that I would not harm any creatures or their homes as I did this research. By some miracle, this pleased him. He agreed to let me travel with a group of samurais who were traveling to a nearby island to do some business that I was unaware of.

I thanked the emperor as I kissed his feet. He has given an opportunity of a life time and I will not let him or our people down. I am grateful for this chance and I promise that our people will grow because of this.

Thank you, my great emperor.

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Soon enough, I gave the news to my wife. A wide smile spread across her face and she hugged me, thanking the great emperor for this happy day. I embraced my love and whispered to her how greatest will continue in our family. To celebrate this great day, we had a giant feast and went to see a play afterwards. The play warned us about the selfish demons inside us and how they can bring the collapse to a great city. I can’t help but praise my ancestors that they have taught me to be better then the selfish man in the play.

We then walked along the edge of the lake near our home. I glanced over at my wife and the smile on her face brightened our great day even more. I will make her and my people even greater soon. She will have a good life.

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Today we embark on the journey to the small island where I will be conducting my research. We will be traveling for a few days on a ship that is smaller than the usual ones. This way the journey will be faster. As I step up onto the deck this morning, I examined the beauty of the sails the careful craftsmanship of the boat. Soon, we started sailing and I walked to the front, placing my hand on the railing and feeling the breeze blow through my hair. Looking down at the crashing waves below, a small smile spread across my face.

I hid this from the crew members that worked on deck behind me and I did my best to keep a serious face as I pretended to take a water sample.

Looking out into the waters, I felt something touch my shoulder as a soft hum could be heard in my ears. I softly sang along with the song without noticing what I was doing until it was too late. The song sounded familiar. Almost like a melody that would help a child fall to sleep after the scares of a storm. 

My heart filled with joy as I quickly looked around, expecting someone to be standing by me— someone that I haven’t seen in years.

The word, “Mom?...” quietly slipped out of my mouth.

Nothing like this has ever occurred during my lifetime and nothing else like this occurred in the hours that followed but I have still been thinking about it all day. As I sit in my cabin on the ship, I am alone. I am thinking about this and I can’t help but wonder if this is a sign. Maybe someone is trying to tell me that I am doing good. That this is what I am meant to do to build our empire. 

Why else would my ancestors come to me in this way? Why else would they send me a guardian in my own mother? My spirits lift as I know that I will successes in making my people grander. No one can stop me with the discovers that I shall make.

I…

 It is strange to write ‘I’ like that. Everything that one does is for their country. One cannot afford to be selfish but… A spirit is following me on my journey. Does that mean that I am somehow special? That my research is important that my ancestors themselves come to protect me? Whatever I was going to accomplish must be great. I shall be great and maybe even the emperor himself will bow down at my feet.

I’m currently smiling at this thought but I need to stop. This will only lead to selfishness and personal pleasures. I need to remove these thoughts for my head and remember that I am here to help my people. Not myself. 

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We had arrived at the island. It is small with a beautiful forest in the center of the land mass and sandy beaches run along the edges of the land. One side of the island raises above over the ocean and its rocky cliffs can be clearly seen from where our ship docked in the distance. 

I was one of the last people to leave the ship and get onto the island using our small canoe for they seemed to be more important. The trip to the island was nothing special but once we walked towards base, I couldn’t help but be in awe of what I saw. In the middle of the island was a hidden entrance to an underground cave that has been made years ago. 

First, we entered a huge and long hallway and I spin around to get a better view of the area. The long tunnel held many doors that lead to rooms for cooking, worshipping and other necessities that the people here needed. Other doors lead to dorms for the people to sleep in and when I asked where my room was, I was told that is was the furthest away from where the important work being held. I was taken aback by the selfish nature of my guide. We were all here for a reason— To improve our people. Why would he think so little of me?

In fact, why did no one see that I was here for a reason? Were they all too busy with their own work? If that was the case, there wasn’t a lot to do on the ship so why did they not speak to me there? These questions still linger in my head.

I was led out of the living quarters where we entered a large cave where nothing has been built and nothing has been disturbed. Leftwards to the door that we walked out of was two other hallways— the middle was where the samurais would train and make plans. I was strictly told that I was not allowed in there. Instead we strolled through the third door and we walked down a long hallway. And soon enough, I found my lab.

There was a few tables and a mat in the corner. And that was it. It was fairly empty and if I didn’t bring my own supplies then I would have been worried for how I would do my work?

I turned to my guide and was about to thank him but he was already gone, probably to the living quarters. I softly sighed and looked around my lab and knew that this is where I was going to live for the next few months.

I was going to be alone so I better get to work. 

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I was right with being alone. I have done most of my work alone as I sit in this lab and every few days, people will only check up on me. Sadly, I only think this is too see if I wasn’t dead. The emperor himself has funded my project so why am I not treated as important as the others here?

That doesn’t matter right now. I need to stop asking these questions and go back to my studies.

I have been doing studies on the ocean for a few weeks now but I haven’t encountered anything special. If I am going to do anything with what the emperor has given me, I need to leave this empty island, which I will do soon. I have finally convinced one of the people here to let me use the tug boat and ride out further into the sea. I have packed a meal and plan to be out all day. I will write if anything of interest is found. 

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I come back with delightful news even if a strong wave almost sunk the boat. The further I went out into the waters the rougher they became as I heard a roar in the distance. If anyone had came with me, they would have told me to sail back to the island, that I was invading on the foreign spirits’ land and that I was angering them.

I almost decided to head back when the boat almost flipped over.

But I couldn’t go back now. I couldn’t when I soon saw the soothing waters in the distance and soon, I made it there. I breathed out and took in my surroundings of the sea. That was when something poked out of the water in the distance. Was that a tail? I needed to know so I continued sailing forward.

And what I saw next amazed me. I couldn’t get a clear look but I could see something beautiful in the waters below. The fishes below had their own community of colors structures and rocks. They lived in unison and none of them seemed to be in danger. It was peaceful and nice.

I think I have discovered something great and I need to look further into this.

But how? There is no equipment for me to get into the waters to swim or a way for me to get a closer look at the beautiful city.

There is also the promise that I have made to my emperor. I would not harm or disrupt any nature and animals. This frustrates me because I am so close to finding something breathtaking for our people yet so far from getting it. I will find a way to get there. I already have a few ideas and I will test them tomorrow. 

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Failure.

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Negative. 

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Another Failure. 

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[This goes on for a dozen more times. The handwriting becomes shakier and tear stains can be seen on the strolls as the words of disappointment continue]

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I have done something terrible. I have accidently broken my oath to the emperor and now I am staring at a broken piece of a colorful rock on my table. I have broken a piece of the fishes’ home and I am expecting something to hurt or punish me but nothing is. The wait is killing me more than anything.

My heart is racing as I pick up the stone and examine the smoothness of it. What have I done? How can I face my emperor now that I have broken the oath? How many spirits would be after us now that I have done this? Is everyone in danger now? Will every death and injury that the others encounter from now on be my fault? I didn’t see why not. 

What was I supposed to do now? How do I make this up to my emperor, my ancestors and to the gods? Do I sacrifice myself in order to save the others? Would my blood satisfy them?

Just the thought makes my skin go pale but I would do anything for my people, right? But why would I consider that as one of my first options when I could attempt to return the stone? Right? That was always something that I could do…

Realizing this, I need to sit down and consider all my options. I need to think through this clearly. There must be more that I can do other than the worse. I shall return at night with a clear head. 

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After my pervious fears of what nature was going to do to us, I still decided to fish to think. Everyone around me sticks to the cave during this time of day so it was better to find a place where I could be alone to think. I made my way onto the surface and at the edge of the cliffs, sat underneath a tree. This was where I casted my line to catch my dinner for the evening.

This is where I considered all of my options.

Drawing a shaky breath, I looked at into the horizon and thought that I should try to return the stone back to where it came from. Maybe then, the spirits will take pity on me. They may forget everything that I have done to them. I hoped.

As I continued watching the horizon, I noticed the tail poking out of the water again. Was I not crazy the first time I thought I say a creature like this? I hugged my fishing pull tightly as I watched this animal swimming through the waters and something tugged at my soul. I had a feeling that no one had ever a creature like that before. If only I can see it closer up but why would the gods bless me with such a sight when they are already angry with me.

Suddenly, a pull could be felt on my fishing line and I quickly tightened my grasp on it. Holding my breath and trying my best not to fall off the cliff, soon enough, I pulled the fishing line in and the biggest fish I have ever caught was on the line. I was going to eat well tonight.

But this didn’t make sense.

If the gods were mad at me then why would they give me such a pleasant meal for tonight? Why would they give me the energy like this when they could have sent a tiny fish near my way? Or even no fish at all.

Was this another sign?

As the wind blew around me, I heard the soft hums of a childhood song again and I breathed in. This was a sign. Did I really not angry the gods at all? Was I safe? 

A small smile spread across my face as I slowly became relieved. The gods weren’t mad at me. In fact, I must be doing something right if they gave me this. And if that was the case, did they want me to go into the waters and disturbed the land after all?

And there was that tail again, appearing in the water beyond. Why did it keep appearing? Was this another sign too or was I just think too deeply? No, I couldn’t be. And even if I was, I couldn’t ask anyone else here what they thought. They always ignored me, and didn’t believe that I was supposed to be here with them.

Well, I’ll show them. After all, I have my ancestors behind me and guiding me to my destiny. I am going to show them who is really important here. The gods have given me a sign to show just how important I really am and soon they won’t have a choice but to know that I am the important one here.

 I glanced back into the sea and watched the creature swim peacefully in the waters.

And the first thing I was going to do was get that creature.  

Next 

Pervious

First 

[vancilocs]

31-47 for ninida, lazlo(was it lazlo, call me out of i wrote it wrong) aand max?

add an s and make it laszlo and you’re golden! (it’s actually laszlowaria but ain’t nobody got time for that)

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

Ninida drinks somewhat, not much, rarely to the point of being hammered but tipsy maybe once a week or so. He’s a lot more jovial and affectionate when drunk, likes hugs, will pet your hair if you have it, laughs and is just a general good sport. Complete opposite when hungover, just leave him into his blanket burrito to recover. Will growl if someone comes too close. Kinda exasperated if people are drunk or hungover around him, complains about it, but if it’s a friend he’ll help in whatever way needed.

Laszlo can drink you under the table, he’s a regular in a local bar when not on duty and has a pocket flask for when he is. Never hammered during working hours but a little tipsy maybe, only blackout drunk if knows he has no duties. Even more out of it when drunk, somehow falls off the floor. His stories have no end, rambles in circles until he passes out, stories may or may not be true at all. Quietly looks after drunk and hungover people by making sure they aren’t in immediate danger, otherwise stays out of it.

Max can drink more than you’d think, she’s short but also has a pretty good resistance… might have drank a tad too much at parties when she was younger. Very rarely gets drunk anymore. Louder and more emotional in every way when drunk, laughs one second, cries the next, gets angry immediately. A mother hen when others get drunk, as a bartender she’s pretty good at spotting when people have had too much.

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

Ninida doesn’t care about makeup or fashion, just skincare sometimes and the functionality of the clothes (as long as he can show his arms). Lots of pockets, a bulletproof vest under the hoodie. Gloves are cosmetic. Sleeps with sweatpants or underwear on.

Laszlo is colourblind and mostly wears black, puts comfort and functionality over looks, but with a thotty twist. His hair he keeps just long enough to tie up, otherwise his nose and medusa piercings are the most he’s done for his looks. He mainly wears the catsuit given by his boss, otherwise it’s capri pants and t-shirts that don’t get stuck on his shin and forearm spikes. Sleeps with a t-shirt and underwear.

Max takes clothing very seriously, orders mainly online from specific goth brands that carry her size, has outfits planned. Makeup is a second job to her and barely ever steps out the house without it, also makes sure her hair is in ship-shape. Very looks-oriented.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

Just… boxers, comfy

Boxers mainly, sometimes backwards, sometimes he forgets

Comfy panties, cute to give confidence but nothing that chafes, she’s on her feet a lot as bartender. Has a bunch of lacy ones for sure.

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

He’s typical for a nedian, some 172 cm maybe, slim, a bit less muscular than many others but not too bad of a twink. He’s okay with how he looks, women are the more beefy ones anyways

Around 180 cm, a little over maybe, thicc as a tree trunk. Typical strong arms and thighs for climbing but also some belly fat and love handles to spare. Just an absolute unit and he’s pleased with that

Max is short, some 155 cm and fat. She’s lost a little weight with a diet change to homecooked scheduled meals, but she’s still fat, and she’s completely fine with this and looks bomb as hell

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

He doesn’t really feel guilty about the things he does for fun, doesn’t feel the need to. Though in the end cheating on his wife dipped from “guilty pleasure” to “complete douchebaggery”

He doesn’t have enough braincells to feel guilty, dude was a police officer corrupt as they can be once upon a time. Maybe drinking on the job is a bit of a guilty pleasure but hey, he’s got good tolerance and not enough booze in his flask to get him too messed up.

Buying new makeup and clothes can be a bit of a guilty pleasure, but she neeeeds them. Using them and making herself look glam is something she feels no guilt about though, yes she might look a lil over the top but so what? It’s her style and she likes it

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

Can design and build guns like the best of ‘em, it’s a hobby and a job, as well as testing the guns out at a firing range. Can’t sing at goddamn all

An excellent marksman and slick as hell, can talk himself out of pretty much any problem. Knows where to find a connection and how to utilize it to end up on top. On his free time he likes to play cards, hang out in a bar, snoop around casually, maybe find someone to share his bed for the night, who knows. Not a singer.

She’s got great style and impeccable makeup skills, somewhat artistic too but those are just some flower doodles. Enjoys making videos and makeup tutorials, cooking, hanging out with friends. Can hold a tune but mainly just hums.

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

He can pour over technical manuals, likes comics, longer novels get boring. A pretty fast reader though, has no interest in poetry.

A bit of a slow reader and prefers bigger text for his eyesight, has a hard time concentrating on longer text so he doesn’t really read books. Alternatively he does enjoy poetry and comics since there’s less to read.

Enjoys reading, usually fiction, crime novels and horror, sometimes romance. Enjoys poetry a lot, especially of the gothic kind.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

Admires tenacity and skill, never giving up despite struggles is inspiring. Wishes he could demand respect and earn it in a way people like Mhairi do, he feels like a bit of a little fish still (esp. compared to dad)

He can respect honesty, positivity and tenacity, even if it’s someone trying to catch him. Also appreciates patience because he knows he can be a bit of a mess. Being able to focus better would be nice.

Max appreciates honesty and open-mindedness, you can be blunt with your honesty, just don’t be mean, and be open to other views and facts than your own. She’s always looking to improve, if anything specific then just not being so hot-headed herself

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

Texts and emails are so much easier.

He won’t remember what he wrote on a letter so messages and emails work best

Loves an old-fashioned wax-sealed love letter as much as any dramatic hoe but obviously texts and emails work the best

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

Too much soda and energy drinks, a caffeine fiend. Could probably stay up without if the weather is warm but still drinks his Red Bull

Mostly drinks alcohol or just water, he stays up long whiles with no help.

Likes her coffee, but mainly just a cup in the morning and an extravagant Starbucks drink during the day, maybe one in the evening. Might have something sweet during shifts at the bar, just for a little kick.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

Hetero/demisexual, primarily an ass man, but a tight bod in general is a sight to see. Hair is nice to touch. Mentally likes tough women who know what they want and know to demand it, likes brains as much as butts. Needs affection and love and dedication, he’s serious about this shit

Bisexual, doesn’t really have a preference, maybe leans more towards thicc guys and gals, prefers a chubby belly over washboard abs. Mentally just be interesting, keep his attention, share views, not super into uptight nerdy scholar types. Needs attention, love and for the other one to take initiative for him to show love back, for now kinda casual about relationships because he tends to go too serious too quick and end up hurt

Bisexual, likes tough girls and cute boys, chubby people, stronk and soft, sparkly like she is, similar views and attitudes, not interested in super shy and quiet people who don’t like going out or don’t hype her up.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

His main goal is to blow up beat Vim in the market, his feelings are hurt and feels like his old man’s time has passed, no familial feelings anymore after the stunt Vim pulled, now it’s just rivalry. Kinda sacrificed a relationship to have the family he wanted, too.

Right now he’s just seeing if this sticks, so far he’s enjoyed captaining the Vandal and maybe even dipping his toesies back into corrupting law enforcement… this time being the one corrupting, not the one corrupted

Her ambitions are to make the makeup channel a full-time job and quit bartending, can eventually do that and make bank from being an influencer while also being a mom.

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

Not religious really, just tiny remnants of the kind of voodoo-type religion most common in where he’s from. Biggest thing religion-wise are the beads he got from his mom he keeps in his pocket, it’s more sentimental than that he actually believes in higher powers. Has no opinion about believers or non-believers unless they try to tell him how to think in which case he gets pissed

His people are generally atheistic, not religious at all himself, kinda finds it odd. But it’s none of his business, just keep it to yourself thank you. Will listen to stories though.

Not particularly religious, wears some religious stuff as part of her style but doesn’t really follow anything herself. Keep it to yourself.

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

Summer, he thrives in warm and humid. Active and happy during warm months. Hates the cold, gets drowsy, outside gets janky and eventually freezes entirely. Whines about cold.

Used to mild, medium weather, very dry, was baffled about rain and clouds. Appreciates the lack of dust outside his homeland. Summer tends to get hot, winter is too cold, not a fan of snow, likes rain. Likes fall.

Loves the fall, pumpkin spice, Halloween, spooky times. Manages heat well, hates sleet and snow but has good jackets to stay warm. Now if just her boots wouldn’t get so dirty.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

Depends greatly, he might be a whiny brat to some, a genius to some. He has been knocked down enough pegs to make him a bit humbler than he’d be otherwise, but he’s still an eager little man trying to become something great at any cost

He’s very much not welcome in his homeland, kind of an outsider everywhere else, his people aren’t so often seen. He’s just chilling and he has his talents, he’s a bit of an enigma to others, a horrible criminal to some and a disaster to his crew

Some may think she’s just a fat bitch, those are people she hasn’t allowed to bully her, others think she’s a role model. She’s a great friend and a mom, too.

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

He’s a bit awkward but he’s that in general, got more gun skills than people skills, which is pretty noticeable. He’ll shake your hand and say his name and what ship he’s from.

There’s something off, the handshake is firm but he might just forget to actually say his name or what ship he captains/who he works for, in general he seems… capable? If a bit scatterbrained.

Shakes your hand, smiles, introduces herself, she immediately feels like a pleasant person.

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

Doesn’t feel at all home in fancier events, doesn’t like dressing up formally, even if nedians don’t do black ties. Avoids fancy chitchat and events and maybe just raids the snack bar and bails.

Pretty at home actually, doesn’t particularly like formal wear but he’s used to wearing it, slips out from one conversation and into another without internalizing any of it or adding anything of substance. Gets tipsy and eats a bunch, just wanders around, gets stuck staring at a curtain for half an hour,

Likes dressing up but prefers a bit more casual parties, like dinners, not as formal. Loves to talk and have a drink and compliment ladies on their clothes.

[mahouxshoujoxme]

all of them

Tsubaki lore, ya say?

(also I’m using you as her eternal bondmate, even though you aren’t back in the game yet )

Putting it under a read more bc its SO MUCH

abalone: what kind of situations compromise my muse emotionallyTsubaki is generally a bit of a bubbly, optimistic airhead, so not much will dramatically effect her emotionally unless it involves her friends or loved ones being hurt or put in danger.

aegerine: my muse’s opinion of the supernaturalShe pretends to be too “logical” to believe in spirits to cover the fact that she is 100% scared of ghosts

agate: how my muse calms downSince it takes so much to upset her, she rarely needs an outside distraction to calm herself down, but when she needs an escape from the world she will lose herself in her studies, or endlessly pester her bondmate for cuddles~

blue lace agate: my muse’s favorite form of communication (verbal, letters, texting, etc.)Tsubaki always prefers face to face communication above all else, but loves the romance and personality in hand written letters.

fire agate: if my muse is brave or cowardly I certainly wouldn’t call her a coward, but some of her “bravery” could at times be better described as naive optimism.

moss agate: if my muse has a high or low opinion of themselfTsubaki is certainly not one to brag of her own talents, but she knows she is a woman with high worth

amazonite: what kind of situations call for my muse to be dishonestShe would never lie, no matter the circumstance

amethyst: what my muse would most like to be able to shape-shift intosomething small and elegant, like a butterfly

ammolite: how lucky or unlucky my muse isShe’s annoyingly lucky

angel aura quartz: my muse’s opinion of LGBT+ issuesShe just thinks everyone deserves to live happy lives, however they wish to live them.

apache tears: a sadness headcanonNot much makes her terribly sad, but Tsubaki is a big crybaby. Both happy and sad crying happen frequently.

apatite: a headcanon about my muse’s intuitionBecause of her personality, many people assume Tsubaki is not the brightest upon first meeting her. But being a scholar and talented craftswoman, she has wonderful intuition. Whether she tends to follow that intuition, or ignore it for something more exciting is another story entirely, however.

aquamarine: where my muse feels most calm/relaxedin either her study or her workshop, surrounded by books and gadgets

biotite: the biggest problems my muse is currently dealing withWell her comrades being incapacitated and this strange voice are certainly not things she enjoys.

bloodstone: how my muse sees themself as part of the world at largeEveryone has a place, no matter how large or small. And Tsubaki is happy to have her place as a craftswoman helping her fellow adventurers on their quests.

calcite: my muse’s social tendencies (introverted vs extroverted, parties vs one-on-one conversations, etc.)Tsubaki is very outgoing and tends to try to spark conversation with everyone she meets. She wants to hear every tale every adventurer has to tell, and is always eager to swap tips and techniques with fellow craftsmen. However she tends to get a bit over excited and can be a bit much for the average stranger on the street.

carnelian: an art-related headcanonAs a practiced and proud craftswoman, Tsubaki can create masterpieces of jewelry, weaponry, armor, along with many types of decorative trinkets and statues. She can cook you any meal you could dream of, and leave your mouth watering for more, as well as brew you the purest, strongest potions an adventurer could need.

As far as the realm of visual arts such as painting and drawing, you would think she had never picked up a pencil in her life. That, however, does not stop her from trying.

celestite: how my muse deals with anxietyBy losing herself in her studies or her craft

chalcopyrite: how my muse deals with ending relationshipsHaving mostly dedicated herself to her studies and her work, Tsubaki had never taken the time to form deep romantic bonds with others, and therefore does not have much experience with ending a deeper relationship. She had plenty of friends and acquaintances from her travels, but had not developed an emotional bond of the sort until she met one certain unseasoned miqo'te gladiator, whom she bonded with through her mentor-ship and their journey together.

charoite: who my muse looks up toshe looks up to everyone, she’s pretty short (ba dum tss)

chrysocolla: a money-making headcanonBeing a master of her crafts, Tsubaki could easily bring in as much gil as she could need. She would rather, however, spend her time creating tools and gear to help out her fellow adventurers and will accept no coin for most of her work.

copper: how I think my muse will end up when they’re olderAs a scholar who wishes to learn all of the secrets of her great world, Tsubaki does not see herself ending her life as an adventurer any time in the near future. Traveling together with her love until the end is the only life she can see for herself.

coral: how my muse views the natural worldTsubaki loves the natural world, and is very thankful for all the materials and tools Eorzea can naturally provide for her. She is always very respectful of the enviornment around her, and only takes exactly what is necessary for her work.

diamond: a sex headcanonTsubaki views physical intimacy as a deep bond, only to be shared with the one most important to her. She prefers long, slow love making to quicker, rougher experiences.

dolomite: a sleep headcanonThough her bondmate could curl up on the bed asleep all day, Tsubaki would refuse sleep entirely if she could. Araragi often has to carry a sleeping Tsubaki to bed from her study deep into the night.

emerald: how my muse tells someone they love them without wordsTsubaki tends to show her love through her craft, leaving small treats and trinkets about for her love to find and take with him on his journeys.

fluorite: what my muse’s room looks likeHer room is full, every surface buried under piles of books and research materials or crafting tools. Though the room is crowded, everything seems to have its own place, and moving anything will earn you a stern talking to about her “system” and how you can’t throw her area out of balance.

fossil: what my muse’s dream job isTraveling all through Eorzea to learn all the world has to offer, doing odd jobs and creating tools and goods for those she meets to pay her way.

galena: what it’s like to be in a relationship with my museTsubaki loves deeply and intensely, taking every chance she can to dote upon her beloved. She isn’t shy to show off her relationship in public and showers her love in special, one of a kind, hand-made items to help him on his quests.

garnet: what my muse’s perfect partner would beAs it would take time away from her studies, Tsubaki was never much interested in romantic relationships, until she met certain miqo'te gladiator. Goofy and a bit unseasoned of an adventurer, she took it upon herself to mentor him through his journey. Along the way she found herself falling deeply in love with him, his happy demeanor a perfect match with hers.

gold: my muse’s financial situationNever wanting for anything because of the value of her craft, she never saw a point to accruing finances in the form of excess coin.

hematite: how squeamish my muse isGenerally her want to learn and her curiosity overtake any squeamish tendencies

iddenite: how much of an “inner child” my muse hasbasically, she baby

iolite: my muse’s drinking habitsTsubaki does not prefer alcohol, but would not necessarily turn a drink down. She is, however, a major lightweight.

jade: if my muse would ever cheat on a partnerabsolutely not.

jasper: what my muse would be like as a parentAs she wants to spend her life traveling, Tsubaki never had a want for Children. If she were to ever have them though, she would love them just as deeply and intensely as she does her bondmate, making sure they were always cared for and never wanting for anything.

kyanite: an anger headcanonNothing can make Tsubaki truly mad beyond her loved ones being hurt. However if you are the one to cause her loved ones pain, you will face her endless rage.

lapis lazuli: where ‘home’ is to my museAs a traveling adventurer, she does not have a true place to call home. She does, however always make it a point to return to the restaurant and guild hall her free company calls their headquarters.

lodestone: what kind of people gravitate towards my museBecause of her outspoken and bubbly demeanor, Tsubaki tends to draw people in of all types.

malachite: what my muse as a child thought they would be when they grew upGrowing up on the Steppe, Tsubaki always dreamed of leaving to see what the would outside had to offer.

mica: what my muse views as their worst personality traitTsubaki is always worried she is not strong enough to protect the ones she loves, always studying as hard as she can to further strengthen her healing magics

moonstone: my muse’s opinions on outer spaceIf she can study something about it, she is interested in it

mother of pearl: if my muse tends to lift people up or bring them downAlways an optimist, trying to bring the best of those around her, she will always try to lift up those around her

nebula stone: how good my muse’s memory isTsubaki has a near photographic memory, which helps in her studies greatly.

obsidian: which of the seven deadly sins my muse would behonestly my bab is so pure i dont have an answer to this

opal: how creative my muse isTsubaki is overflowing with creative energy, spending every free moment not devoted to her studies tinkering with some new creation.

pearl: a mental health headcanonTsubaki knows that keeping good mental health is essential to maintaining her studies, and thus makes sure to take plenty of time to ensure she is always treats her mental health well.

petalite: what my muse would do if they found a wallet on the streetTsubaki would absolutely search endlessly until she found the owner.

pyrite: a physical health headcanonIn order to continue her travels, Tsubaki keeps herself in top shape.

quartz: how my muse thinks other people see themTsubaki never much cared what others think of her, but she thinks in general people view her in a positive light.

rhodonite: if my muse prefers elegance or convenienceKnowing that long travels sometimes require more convenience than elegance, but also being a craftswoman who has an appreciative eye for elegance, Tsubaki tries to use her own skills and knowledge to create new gear that combine the two as best as possible.

rubellite: if my muse has any 'triggers’ that inspire painful memoriesNot really, Tsubaki is probably the only character I’ve ever written that doesn’t have a tragic uwu backstory

ruby: a happiness headcanonHappiness for Tsubaki lies in being surrounded by those she loves, and being free to roam and journey as she pleases

sapphire: if everyone my muse knew was hanging off a cliff and they could only choose three to save, the rest certainly dying, who they would chooseShe would absolutely never chose anyone’s life over another’s. Tsubaki would fight endlessly to find a way to save everyone, even if she would lose her own life in the process

serpentine: how my muse would seduce anotherTsubaki has never been one for romance or physical relationships, she she is very inexperienced. Intimate encounters with her bondmate tend to be very clumsy and innocent.

silver: if my muse prefers masculinity or femininityTsubaki is extremely feminine.

tsavorite: if my muse believes in destiny or fateTsubaki believes that everyone has the power to create their own future. Giving in to ideas like being stuck to one future or destiny is just someone giving up or not having the strength to fight for what they truly want, and she will do everything in her power to empower those around her to chase the futures they each truly want.

ulexite: how empathetic/sympathetic/compassionate my muse isENTIRELY. If anyone around Tsubaki is hurting or having troubles, she will absolutely take that pain onto herself and do anything in her power, endlessly to help them. Oftentimes to her own disadvantage.

unakite: what my muse’s ideal pet would beanything fluffy that will let her snuggle it and would have no problems being on the road for long periods of time.

verdite: my muse’s ethnicity/family historyTsubaki is a Raen Au Ra, though she could never stand for the secluded life of those she descended from

zebra stone: what gets my muse excitedliterally everything

zoisite: does my muse believe everything’s going to work out for them in the end or not?As long as she draws breath, she has an opportunity so solve any problem she faces.

[sagiow]

Northbound

I took a hiatus from my creative hiatus to write a little Mercy Street fanfic, on the occasion of @jomiddlemarch‘s birthday. A very happy, poetic, romantic birthday, I hope!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14413401 

The scenery spun by, shapes barely distinguishable in the darkness, and Jedediah Foster watched it pass, as in a daze. The day’s events had yet to make their mark, but he kept them at bay: tonight, he had one more important thing to deal with than the utter falling apart with his family, the complete collapse of whatever still held them together. Mary. He had to get to Mary.

How he had managed to get aboard without a dime, he could not recall. Yet here he was, sitting in a comfortable cabin, speeding north as the evening grew; his body growing limp from the exhaustion of travel and the rhythmic motion of the wagon on the tracks, but his mind racing on, one mantra repeating endlessly: please still be alive. Please still be alive.

He took out the much-cherished drawing from his bag, carefully smoothing the creases and wrinkles, and stared at it. In that moment, the world outside vanished, the train's roar dimmed, time stood still: all he saw was her calm beauty, floating from the white page, smiling peacefully. Was she still at peace? Did she still smile? Would she smile still at his arrival? Please still be alive.

This ghost haunted him, as she had since her departure, since Lisette had handed him the picture the next day. This serene Mary he doubted still existed, and would perhaps vanish before he could travel to Boston, or so he told himself these past weeks as he looked for excuses to stay away. As long as he had remained in Alexandria, he had lived with the regret of what could have been: their blossoming courtship, the growing affection between them, rekindled by her illness, only to be forcefully terminated by her exile and impending end. Regret was a heavy companion, but with distance and other occupation, he managed it somehow, never once resorting to the comfort of the needle, as he had feared. Every day the ghost grew fainter, the memory of her dimmed, and other preoccupations and prospects drove her further away. Every morning brought the possibility of a letter or telegram telling them her pain was passed, and some small part of him almost hoped to receive it, and let that page be turned once and for all, that chapter finished before it even began.

But the letter had never come, events had unraveled, and friends had provided the encouragement needed to put an end to the excuses and make that dreaded trip, and be confronted to her fate. And his, for he knew it now to be linked with hers, whatever it may be. He feared what awaited him, and his guilt-ridden mind conjured images of her body frail and wasted from her ordeal, her broken spirit barely twinkling through bright, fevered eyes. A ghost, indeed.

Regret at what could have been left him, and was replaced by remorse of what should have been. He remembered the dock: the curls clinging to her damp forehead, the darkness that rimmed her eyes, the shivers despite the heavy blanket: he should have brought her comfort. The confused mind, drifting so far away, already being ferried to the Underworld: he should have steered her back to herself, to him. The hand that had barely any strength to hold his, the pulse faint in her wrist: he never should have let it go. But he had. He had failed her.

Rationally, he knew that there was not much to be done that fateful night: defying orders to either steal her away somehow or jump ship to accompany her would have ended his military career, and ruined their good names. However, he could have done more through the proper channels as early as the next morning, yet he did not. Instead, he buried himself in the old comforts of work, science, and, despite his better judgement, the company of a former mistress. Thankfully, they had not revived their past affair, but had still managed to grow close enough that he was now wrecked with guilt. That he had just as much as entertained the possibility, while Mary was fighting for her life, now made him sick with disgust.

So there he was, racing through war-torn country, daring to hope for solace and forgiveness from the woman he had cravenly abandoned to a death sentence while he could not even bring himself to write a single letter. Please still be alive.

His own expectations at her welcome varied from bitter admonishment and reprisal in the best case, and quiet rejection in the worst. He had forsaken people in his life for much smaller slights, and did not envision any better reaction to his outright desertion and stubborn subsequent silence. She herself had not been so forgiving in health, turning a cold shoulder whenever their disagreement over race or patient care became apparent, and he could not imagine this utter insult would be met with any more lenience on her part.

And of course she would be more than right to do so. Whereas she had risked her position and reputation to help him, a mere colleague, through his morphine addiction and keep it their secret, he had done little more than any doctor would have done in treatment of her infection; as a pining suitor caring for his intented, or even just as a friend, his behavior had been downright unacceptable.

Jedidiah sighed. He fully deserved any treatment she deemed fit for him… if he made it on time. Please still be alive. That was all that mattered. If Life would grant him that one wish, he would pay it back a thousand-fold. He had to make amends. Help her heal from typhoid, of course, but that would not be enough. He must earn back her trust, her respect, and perhaps through this, one day, her love. Out of an impulse ingrained from wealth, he wanted to present her with a gift: something that would bring her joy, that would show her the true measure of his affection, and slowly make up for these weeks of neglect. But what?

He thought of the women he had loved before her: Nancy, his teenage sweetheart; Lisette; Eliza. Others who had come and gone, barely registering in the story of his life, barely remembered now. All the gifts he had bestowed upon them, in adoration, gratitude, or repentance. There had been many, the lavisher the greater the offence, and all these women had accepted them gladly, suddenly finding it much easier to forgive him in their newfound treasures, as he found it much easier to shower them in presents than to fully own up and repent for his mistakes.

Yet with Mary… this would never do. And even if it could just soothe a fraction of the abuse, he did not even know where to begin. All the typical presents he had resorted to seemed woefully inadequate for her. Their uncertain relationship complicated the matter further and made many simply inappropriate. Not to mention that at the moment, he was penniless, potentially nameless, and was coming to her an empty-handed beggar, both for her absolution and hospitality.

As he pondered this further, he realized with dismay that for all his admiration of her, his absolute infatuation while they worked together, and his nostalgic regret since her departure, he did not truly know her.

What did he know of her interests, passions and pastimes before the war, before social justice and nursing called her to action? What had made he care so for Emancipation? Was it Christian charity, or had religion nothing to do with it? How many slaves had she even met, up in snowy Boston? Was her journey to Alexandria her first view of the South?

And before still… what of her family, her home? Had she grown up in the city or the country? What made her laugh, in days of peace? What made her dream, in days of youth? Was she one for fairy tales, wishing for Prince Charming upon a white horse, appearing to whisk her away to a life or riches and luxury?

Or did she crave adventure? Her husband had been a foreigner. Had he spoken fondly of the Vaterland, of Old Europe? Had she yearned to cross the ocean to see it? To travel further still, to the deserts of Arabia, the jungles of India, the oriental mysteries of Edo?

Or perhaps she would have been a scholar? With her intellect, eloquence and dedication to her craft, she fit the profile. How long had she studied? In school, or with a tutor? Whic topics had she excelled at? Which bore her to tears or made her toss her book across the room in frustration?

Or had she been perfectly content, as a wife to a humble textile chemist, tending their home? Had they hoped and prayed for children to complete their family and accompany them into old age? Had they been blessed for a precious moment, but had this happiness cruelly taken away?

And what did she want now, before typhoid fever struck her down? What did she hope for herself, once war was over? Another chance at love and family? A second career as a teacher, or writer perhaps? Or to reinvent herself further still and take up another worthy cause, crusading on for Humanity's greater good?

Through all his interrogations, Jed caught himself thinking of Lisette, and missing her. Not as a lover, no; that was forevermore in the past. He missed her intuition and emotional acuity. Her lack of filter, of Puritan prudishness, that he had found so captivating in Paris, and that taught him so much in not only dealing with others, patients and patrons alike, but also with himself, and facing what it was he truly wanted. He knew that in the few hours that Lisette had spent with Mary, that she had probably understood her better than he had in months. Lisette would have known immediately what it was that her heart yearned for, and would have told her so: maybe not as bluntly as she had grown able to be with him, but tactfully, and directly, buffering the impact with a soft smile and encouragement. Had Mary ever expressed her desire for him to have her portrait? Did she even have to, or was it crystal clear to Lisette from the first side-glance, the first blush at the mention of his name?

What made her see behind their stern façades, behind the veil of decorum, to the truth they hid and guarded? Her talent was to draw what the eye saw, yet her gift was to imbue it with her subject’s soul, its inner message.

He gazed intently at Mary’s smiling face, so vulnerable and unguarded on the page, yet still proud. What is your message, my dearest? What is it you want more than anything?

And more importantly: am I the one who can give it to you?

As he looked into her soft eyes, so true to life, he finally saw that the answer was not fine silk, castles or diamonds. That it was not anything else money could buy. That it was not found in books or churches, on battlefields or overseas.

What she wanted, at the moment pencil had touched paper, was his presence: simply, honestly, without artifices or excuses. No more complications. No more hiding. Fully revealed to one another. Just as Lisette had drawn her.

Here I am, she welcomed him from the page. Where are you?

At the realization, Jed dropped his head. The shame of his delay in understanding her desire shred his soul, and he urged the train to speed up, or time to slow down. His lips uttered a prayer; not to God, but to the woman he now desperately begged for forgiveness, for another chance.

Please let it still be so. Please let me know you, and try to be who you believe me to be.

Please still be alive.

[livefromtheloam]

The Gods of Pertarra

Hi all! I finally sat down and put together a pantheon for my first D&D campaign. Normally I wouldn’t start it so early, but the gods are at the crux of the story and I wanted to flesh them out sooner rather than later. I took the 5e DMG’s advice and made at least one god per (standard) clerical domain, plus added two other domains for story reasons.

If you have any advice constructive criticism, please let me know! (Except about my awful Illustrator skills - I’m aware of that!)

Pertarra is a world on the verge of an incredible shift. As mortals develop more advanced technology, the gods are growing increasingly concerned about their domains. Allow me to introduce you to them.

Tarra – World

Tarra is the Goddess of the World. She is the informal leader of the pantheon, and holds sway over every domain. She is beneficent and truly loves everything, from the greatest of heroes to the lowest of bacteria. All religious sects worship Tarra ultimately, and every temple has at the very least her symbol in a place of honor to reflect this. All other gods defer to her without question or hesitation, the only trait they all share.

Tarra takes the form of a golden-skinned being matching the species that beholds her. She has flowing brown hair and if she is wearing clothing, it is a loose cloth pinned at one shoulder. Her symbol is a circle.

Rún – Magic

Rún is the Keeper of All Magic. Though she does not preside over a clerical domain, she is the source of power for all spellcasters, whether they are aware of it or not. Even some who do not tap into magic can feel her pull if they are sensitive to it. She is not an overdeity, but enjoys more worship than most other gods (though always in conjunction with at least one other). She is vain, and strongly favors worshippers who take her as a primary god. She will even go so far as tampering with the magic of those who displease her.

Rún takes the form of a small, thin halfling with white skin, white hair, and blue robes. Her symbol is three lightning bolts in a triskelion.

Death – Death                      

The god of death has many names, though has no need to acknowledge any of them. They do not speak, and do not ask anything of any mortal. While truly neutral and impartial, Death does not allow cheats, and those who attempt to attain immortality will be punished for their hubris.

Death rarely, if ever, appears to mortals. If a particularly devoted person should happen to catch a glimpse of Death, that person would see a shimmering tear in the world extend what would appear to be an arm reaching out to aid the recently deceased (though this is merely how the mortal mind would comprehend it). Their symbol is an hourglass. 

Artarix – Knowledge            

Arctarix is the Scholar Eternal. He is the most likely of the gods to appear to mortals, and the most likely to give them an earful about it. He is short-tempered when it comes to anything but learning or teaching, where his patience is boundless. His favorite worshippers are those who contribute to the collective knowledge of the world, whatever the topic. He is not omniscient, and actively discourages his clerics from claiming this to be the case – the desire to know everything is the desire to come to an end to learning, which flies in the face of all of his many, many teachings.

Arctarix appears as an old human with long grey hair, large bulging eyes, pallid blue skin, and an impressive musculature, which shows under his scholar's robes. He usually carries a large tome with a feather quill being used as a bookmark. His symbol is a scroll with a single glyph written on it.

Vion – Life

Vion is the fountain from which all life springs. She is the mother of all, and loves everyone. However, sometimes this love takes on a stern form, as there will always be mortals who choose to kill and destroy for their benefit rather than survival. As the goddess of life, she has the utmost respect for Death, who she calls Karys. Whether they feel the same way is a mystery.

Vion appears as a voluptuous dwarf with dark skin and dark hair. She wears a bright green dress and seasonal flowers as accessories. Her symbol is a magatama.

Helion – Light

Helion is the sun, the stars, the moon, the flame, the firefly’s call, and the anglerfish’s lure. He is pride incarnate, and incredibly aware of just how important his domain is. While other gods might view the advancement of mortal technology with a skeptical eye, Helion truly appreciates the extra worship he has been receiving in the form of blazing foundry forges, the burning of midnight oil, and the impressive things some of them are doing with glass and filament. He freely bestows gifts on any and all who receive his favor (whether he is their primary deity or not), though they may turn out to be a nuisance more than a blessing sometimes.

Helion appears as a large, radiant orc with brightly glowing skin and hair, wrapped in an equally glowing toga. He is breathtakingly handsome and sounds like an old-timey superhero. His symbol is a circle with eight rays around the diameter.

Padrana – Nature

Padrana is the Goddess of Balance. She is the call of the wild, the one who greets travelers at the edge of civilization. As the goddess of nature, she is the embodiment of all that is untamed and ancient. She also maintains the weather and the seasons, though is not the one who set these things in motion. She doesn’t have many temples in cities or even towns, but frontier villages will often have a dedicated structure just for her, likely as not. There are also shrines to her in the hidden in the wilderness, and it is customary for any passersby to leave an offering.

Padrana appears as a firbolg of variable size, in clothing depending on the context (time of year, temperature, time of day, area of the world, etc.). Her symbol is a leaf, or feather, or claw, or root, or anything that could be found in the wilderness.

Yasidian – Tempest

Yasidian is the God of the Sea and the Sky. He is nearly omniscient, and usually has a calm, peaceful demeanor. However, when there is something that escapes his notice, a collection of dust here, a particularly brutal war there, Yasidian goes absolutely berserk. He summons the sea to the sky and throws it back down to Pertarra. He strikes the world with lightning and terrifies mortals with thunder. He sinks ships he does not approve of and destroys structures when he finds them displeasing. As the patron god of sailors and navigators, he loves airships as they have brought his ardent worshippers ever closer to his home in the clouds. He has even been known to bestow blessings upon favored shipwrights, making their vehicles in the air and on the water known to Yasidian, and safe from his occasional wrath.

Yasidian appears as a goblin with jet black skin and white hair with an electric glow. On a clear day, he wears a well-made tunic crafted from clouds and seafoam. On a stormy day, he wears nothing. His symbol is a seagull.

Bax – Trickery

Bax is the Great Buffoon. The trickster god is the source of mirth, and every laugh is a prayer in his honor. His worshippers pride themselves on bringing joy to others, and they often tell fables that emphasize the importance of cleverness, improvisation, and ingenuity. They always carry around masks. Most of the other deities find him tiring, but Padrana adores him (mainly because she does not understand irony). Foxes, rabbits, and hyenas are sacred to Bax, and his followers consider it blasphemy to harm them, especially when they are not in season.

Bax appears as a tall gnome wearing the silliest thing imaginable in that moment. Likewise, his skin and hair can be any color, clarity, or style, based on humor. His symbol is a mask divided down the middle, each half the opposite color as the other.

Empyra – War

Empyra is the Goddess of Conflict. Of Conquest. Of Dominance. Hers is the domain of strategy and logistics. Hers is also the domain of valor and courage. And still, hers is the domain of chaos and blood. Empyra is a stern deity who sees all mortals as pieces on a board, at which she is the only player. To her, rules are the most holy of doctrines, up until the moment when they must be chucked out in order to survive. Every warrior, soldier, knight, and tactician knows her well. She has fought alongside and against all of them. She is also the goddess of maps and boundaries, as no other being, mortal or immortal, would be able to keep them all memorized as she does. Cartographers often sign their work with their initials inside the Hand of Empyra pointing north.

Empyra appears as an elderly grey-skinned elf with long braided hair hunched over a game board on a table. She is often seen wearing armor, though not always. Her words are accompanied by the sound of drums. Her symbol is a hand with an extended index finger.

Thank you for reading!