#yet caravan theft | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cypressmoons · 1 year ago

Text

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 (alhaitham)

summary: you were a new haravatat student eager to learn all that the akademiya has to offer. you were also a hopeless romantic hoping to find your true love match one day. but when you receive a phone call that puts your future in jeopardy, you have to make a choice...hurry, you only have seven days. a/n: i'm ngl this was 100% inspired by a scenario i ran into when playing the sims today lmao i had never come across this random event before so i decided to play it but it's giving story material!! hope u enjoy.also consider this my official "back from hiatus" post! i've decided to stop being a clown and embrace my creative tendencies so drop a request if you want :)

word count: 1,231

the doors to the akademiya were heavy and solid in your hands as you pushed them open, for the first time as a student instead of a wandering kid with wide eyes.

ever since you were little, all you dreamed of was one day claiming a seat at the tables where countless have huddled, browsing the tomes in the libraries where countless have spent sleepless nights, and if you're lucky, maybe one day having your name published on a paper.

so you began your journey, eager to learn from the best of the best. even as other students pointed fingers behind your back and called you an ass kisser, teacher's pet, try hard, whatever it is they came up with, you were determined to be nothing less than the top 1% of students. your teachers quickly took a liking to you, contrary to what the other students liked to say, and were always willing to spend a couple extra hours after class to discuss the most recent scholarly journals or new books you've read.

this includes, even to your own surprise, the scribe of the akademiya and haravatat's finest.

there was nothing attached to your purely academic relationship. alhaitham would leave a book or two on your favourite library seat with little slips of paper tucked between the pages, scribbled with his thoughts on why they were a worthy read and your name always printed in neat script at the top. when you were finished with them, you would return the note to the mailbox outside his office, your own interpretations of the book written on the back of the same paper.

it's not how most people conversed about scholarly matters, but it's one that worked best for the two of you.

the scribe has clearly taken a liking to you, and you are not oblivious to the whispers when you tuck yet another note into his mailbox. you hear them speculating what is so special about you, about how they haven't seen the scribe talk nearly as much to anyone else, and it always gave you a brief rush of superiority as you head down the hallway to your next lecture, knowing that a good friendship with the akademiya's brightest mind would surely challenge your understanding of the material, in a good way.

what you did not see coming, was how this "good way" was open to interpretation.

you had just returned to your residence from a frustrating lesson on deciphering king deshret's runes when your phone rang. the voice on the other end was unfamiliar, almost robotic in a way, as they informed you that you were to receive a large, undisclosed sum of money as inheritance from some faraway relative you had never met.

you were suspicious at first, of course, and you had questioned the stranger's identity and how they came to find you, but something told you that this was not just another telemarketing scam, that there was more to it than potential identity theft and murder. you vaguely remember your mother mentioning family living in the rainforests bordering caravan ribat, perhaps it was one of them?

hearing your hesitancy, the voice spoke again, this time with an almost preposterous proposal.

get married within seven days, and the money is yours.

"it's what they mentioned in the will," he added unhelpfully.

you almost started yelling at him. just where were you going to find a partner, let alone a spouse, in seven days? whoever this relative was, they must've been insane - cursed by aranara magic, hit their head on a tree, fallen down four storeys into a rock-

then you started to question if the stranger was a mind reader as he reminded you that you were deeply in debt.

you rolled your eyes but didn't deny it outright. it's true that studying at the akademiya had put a huge dent in your pocket, and if you wanted to further your studies - which you surely did - you would need at least another few years worth of tuition.

you pinched the bridge of your nose for a few moments to gather your thoughts. there's no way your dead relative, or this "lawyer" of theirs, would know if you file for a divorce as soon as you get the inheritance, right? the will only said "marriage", not "staying married". yes - it seems you had found a solution to your worsening financial situation.

"fine. give me seven days."

"you got it, then."

you tried not to think about what sounded like a knowing smile in the man's voice when he hung up. you had seven days, and it was starting now.

it was strange, really, how the first person you thought of was alhaitham.

but, how in the world would you explain your sudden display of affection? it would be the ultimate form of disrespect if you ever disclosed that your liking to him was based out of a desperate attempt to not go broke. alhaitham was not stupid, and neither were you. but the more you think about it, the more he seems like the perfect candidate: smart, kind, caring, with similar academic interests and always catering to your every need.

you rise from your seat, deciding that you would allow yourself one day, not a minute more, to test the waters and see if alhaitham was really the one.

and if he isn't, you still have six days to find a husband. surely there is got to be someone in this vast city ready for marriage no matter the circumstance? you have heard enough parents pressuring their children to get married to know that there are more than one anxious bachelor out there, tired of the constant questions.

there's no time to lose. you check the clock - it's barely past seven - and you know alhaitham is still holed up in his office, working through the mountain of papers that only seem to pile up higher each time you visit him.

the walk to the akademiya feels shorter than normal, frantic, even, as you write three thousand different scripts in your head like the main character of a dating sim game, complete with dialogue options and green (or red) indicators of how much relationship you've gained (or lost) with the male lead. you almost want to laugh at yourself. even in this dire circumstance, you still find a way to make up some scenario of the romance bar instantly shooting to 100 the moment you open your mouth.

reality is often disappointing, and you're about to learn it the hard way.

"just leave them on my- y/n."

you had not given yourself the opportunity to pace in the hallway or debate the practicality of your methods in fear that you would give up altogether. so when you appear in the doorway of his office, still catching your breath from sprinting up the stairs, alhaitham is surprised to say the least.

"alhaitham."

you nod as a greeting and clear your throat, and he pauses his reading to look up at you.

"everything alright? you look rather...flushed."

if you weren't flushed before, his comment is enough to make your skin heat up to an extent where an amurta scholar would be concerned for your health.

you force aside all the noise and doubts in your head, shutting your eyes before blurting out:

"how would you like to get married?"

there's definitely gonna be a part 2 so don't worry hehe i just like leaving you on cliffhangers <3 anyways drop a comment if you'd like me to tag you when i post part 2!

masterlist

#moon's writings 🔖#genshin impact #genshin x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader

29 notes · View notes

redmoonwanderer · 5 months ago

Text

FFXIV Write 2024, Day 20 Prompt: Duel

Aldhelm the Vicious returns to his band of thieves after a short stint in the dunjons, releasing himself on account of “not interested.” The large hyur towers above his underlings, and is wide enough for two to hide behind him, and his battleaxe, chipped though it is, looks rather fearsome in his large hands.

Needless to say, while he was away, Aldhelm’s thieves decided to lie low. It’s not hard to find a hidden glade in the Shroud, evident by the many bands of bandits that have taken to calling the place their home, and once they’ve settled, they agree not to cause too much trouble. The occasional theft to give their broth some taste, and a potential beating if people were drunk enough and approached by someone stupid enough to challenge them.

The moment Aldhelm returns, though, things change back to how they used to be. He finds someone to bribe so he knows when the good caravans are passing through, and finds someone else to bribe so they’re conveniently asleep during their watch at night or taking a leak, forcing the carriage to either stop or continue for a bit without its hired spear or sword.

No one complains about the plenty they live in. It’s nice to live a life that one can enjoy, and far be it from anyone to say no to good ale and fresh vegetables.

It’s the other… problem that has the thieves on their toes. All except Aldhelm, though he most of all should feel at least a little wary since this problem is what got him imprisoned in the first place.

It’s a nice late afternoon, that day. Oswyn would never say he’s particularly proud of his profession, but he makes more than enough to send to his widowed sister and her three children so they don’t go hungry. He’d never be able to tell their parents what he does for living, though, he wouldn’t be able to bear the shame.

His partner in guard duty, V’laira, is the opposite. She’s told him one night and a couple drinks in that her mother was actually extremely proud when she heard that she’d decided to work on the less favourable side of the law. V’laira, too, seemed to enjoy the certain freedom that came with not following the rules of the society.

The two of them stand on top of a hill at the edge of their camp, Oswyn leaning to a tree and V’laira standing on the edge, sharp eyes looking at the forest around them. When she sees a figure walking closer, she gestures for Oswyn to join her, and he does.

“Should we go tell boss?” she asks as she tries to get a better look at the bold lone figure approaching.

“It’s probably for the best – no, wait.” He feels cold, suddenly, when the stranger walks into a sunny spot and is easier for him to see. And that’s no stranger. That man has been walking in the Shroud for some years now, and there’s a reason everything in the woods leaves him alone. Oswyn swallows. “Never mind. It’s him.”

V’laira furrows her eyebrows and looks a while longer before she, too, realises who the man is. “Oh,” she just says.

“Yeah. Guess boss has a price on his head. Again.”

“Shame,” says V’laira.

As the stranger passes by the hill, the two on guard have conveniently found something interesting just in the other direction.

And not just them. Everyone in the camp continues to converse with their friends, or walks away as they remember they left the pot boiling, or close their eyes as they realise how tired they are.

Anything and everything but acknowledging that the Warrior of Light is walking among them once more.

Aldheim is quick to attack the miqo’te, of course, shouting promises of revenge and whatnot, but when he calls for his followers to join the fight, to beat this man to a pulp, no one listens. He puts up a fight, yes, but a couple loud explosions and bangs later the man is yet again being dragged towards Gridania, where he will continue his interrupted sentence.

Oh, well, thinks Oswyn as he watches the miqo’te drag his unconscious, slightly scorched boss away from the camp, maybe next time he knows what everyone else in this forest already does: you do not cross the Warrior of Light. The man is fair, after all: let him be, don’t cause so much trouble a guild puts a price on you, and he’ll let you go on your merry way.

All in all, a rather sensible deal if you ask ever asked Oswyn.

#ffxivwrite2024 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv writing #writing tag

3 notes · View notes

the-firebird69 · 4 months ago

Text

The morlok wither no way they die now fast. Very fast. Megan merkle said we never win a battle are up in his face. Says he preps still for the Mac fight. We do see his plan needs to. We're up front nobody cuts in. We're spent soon she says mostly useless wars we learned nothing fighting.

Now she said all that meant it. Means it. Bja hates her says what would you do. Ride them get info not blind attacks. It went on for years Trump saying yes yes and bja. Now continues and they bother him torture him. Are at him.

Now they fall as she said. Half the city areas went down. 15% of Earth's population. About 48% of Thier own. Another 23.5% of Thier own down after. 8% of the population. Lots think they win. Some a little. Huge caravans head to seperstist cities huge. Fully armed. Hate Mac proper mk them bleed at least. Saw Bill get hurt said ok who's doing it. Out they go. And hulk Hogan now does. He's a ninny says our son can't be the hulk and he is Hogan freed ppl from Hitler. Then his dad played him.. to escape ppl know it. He's beaten daily since. Maxs want him out.

It is on. Preliminary findings heavy fighting in tunnels caverns below cities. Huge arms used. Uranium still there a ton of it. We are in.

Morlok forces move fast close gaps crush on.

Our son is stuck as we lack power let's all get together make sure this works

Thor Freya

We shall. Needs tons of stuff as ours do is constantly harassed bearded it won't stop need these out. Mks sense they try to infiltrate each other's supposed ships and end trying. Good. Decent idea no the best we use it on them all. Shortly. They are kikes need it badly.

Nuada Arrianna really they do aweful statements we couldn't answer we can now. In just a few hours. Their forces encountered macs don't do well Thier leaders are injured did not arm them properly. The largest cache what they need are at them infighting see it. Madness really that's them the morlock. We use it take 75% false flag. Defeat macs in areas yes. Take them and ships there. These are ridiculous Mac proper too

Mostly stolen hardware. Are pigs. The clans dug deep into them now they are handicapped. Mostly yet devistate the morlock.

More shortly

Nuada Arrianna

We supposed enough need them out. We shall build fleets using these as the dimwits macs will scour the Earth for Thier threat

Zig Zag

I'm here I'm ok. Trumps fleets sit idle. Bja loses Tommy f loses. Psuedo empire at 45M. Bja dn to 4M Tommy f 2M. They waited for this event. Tower ships at 1.7M theft slowed. Fear of reprisals. The three cordoned dn 18% or so. And it's misery. I see why. I move soon let them fight over it. I'm consumed with fear at times. Dread it yes. Monsters there. Ok some here protect me. Very lethal fire drakes so I see no. But gross my side of the family ok. Hehe. Bugs win the day. I will practice ok. He smiles I can do it has his faith and love. I'm on it ok.

Hera as the queen of blades haha his character is in armor ok lol

Olympus

0 notes

gatherparty · 1 year ago

Text

fun facts about Lightfoot

grew up in Windhelm as a refugee / beggar, primarily being raised by the dunmer and argonian residents

she worked as much as she could to make coin, but eventually resorted to petty theft to survive, honing her skills

as she got older she did work on the docks and in the stables, occasionally serving as a courier and an assistant performing small tasks for the residents of the city and stormcloak soldiers

she also worked with the khajiit trade caravans whenever she could, learning a fair bit of speechcraft

she had an older adoptive brother, a khajiit smuggler named Shadowfoot, who trained her in the ways of a thief

she dreamed of a better life with Shadowfoot, who endeavored to make an honest living. eventually he joined a crew of sailors and left windhelm, but news would come that the ship had been taken by pirates and the crewmates were slaughtered.

after learning of the death of Shadowfoot she decided to fully embrace a life of crime and left Windhelm for Riften to join the Thieves Guild

she has a soft spot for beggars, refugees, and orphans, often going out of her way to help and defend them

she doesn't like alchemy and is very bad at it, but still does her best to make her own poisons and potions

she's a stealth archer build lmao

she has two forms of attire: her "traveling" clothes and her thieves guild armor

she eventually purchases lodging in the Riften ratways and names it Shadowfoot Sanctum after her brother

she befriends a skeever, Skritch, and keeps it as a pet

Lightfoot is very small for a khajiit (haven't decided what kind she is yet, so in general she has a short stature and thin frame, giving her a somewhat child-like appearance, which she plays on to gain the trust of others)

0 notes

valdederon · 1 year ago

Text

FLAMES JOURNEY CHAPTER> < # 12 creation of the mewn and the story of its creator as well as the world around them

{ this is a short break from the story to rechrage and also get some lore out.. please note this is not a story for those who want a simple and cute read yes i will have cute and funny moments.. but mine is more twords the harsh reality of life in a more fantasy maner. a dark but also light read yin and yang.. life and death please be patient with me and enjoy the storry as best you can descriptions of injuries will be detailed battles can and will get dark fast in some areas. }

in the world valdederon finds him self in full of stable trades and endless amounts of tradeable goods it can be easy to ignore the fact the mewn all thogh old by human standards in the world of pokemon were some species can reach ages of up to 1000 and further the mewn is new with in this worlds recent history.

(( the drying is a drout and will be mentioned a few times))

about 20,000 years back the world around was decrepid in terms of trade and comerce to buy from markets youd have to carry many bags of many currencies from stone chips to wood tablets bronze and copper coins to gold and silver blanks nothing was ballanced or fair.. were you could find a bag of onions at 3 copper coins that same bag some were else soon is suddenly 300 silver blanks .put simply crime was prevelant.. theft and murder was not uncomon.. teens killing a merchants guard holding a bag of moldy bread just to fead his siblings while he went hungry. life was cruel back then it wasnt un common for entire tribes to dissapear over night due to having not had food for weeks.

but that soon changed when a small village near what is now the pheonix valley guild to the south east near the top of a mountain lived the noble yet tricster prone zoroua and zoroark. a small family distant relitives of the tribes elders often foraged for food on thier own the eldest beeing a young 15 year old. some times moody boy named kelldeer he hunted frequantly in the valley near the mountains some times bringing a single small deer for his family and a large buck for the village only lasting them a week at most with rationing.. none complained knowing how scarece food has been with a drout during that time period.. the vilage poor but fending for them selves despite the cruelty around them keeping to them selves when one day a trade caravan full of sneasel and weevile a rare group who distained violence visited one of thier younglings sick and injured. the elders letting them in after seeing the fear in thier eyes despite the others protests as zoroaks know the history between both sides..

during thier stay kelldeer visits the sick sneasel whos crying only a year and a half old burns on his shoulder from a flame thrower attack .

kelldeer--- what happened

the leader a tired and old weevile scoffs

rex-- what the fuk do you care zoroark your elders let us in not you.

kelldeer--- mom always said to not cling to ones species past or struggles but to always look ahead.. look for peace.. you guys sell stuff???.. what does sell mean

rex thourougly shoucked laughs alittle

rex-- you mean your vilage doesnt trade or.. buy or sell.. uh.. ok say you wanted this stick in my paw… id ask for payment.. like these copper pieces i have.. this is money you give it to me for the value of this stick and i give the stick to you.. though each town and city has its own kind of money.. so you should learn about the worlds currencies first.. most caravans dont make it long because of how many there are.

kelldeer--- thats… horrible.. some one has to do somthing about it.

rex chuckles softly scars up and down his arms his ches and even a larg one across his face

rex---well that will be a day the world celebrates kid.. do your family a favor and forget you ever heard of trading.. kids yoru age are always victims of this worlds ineptitude..its impotence.. just look at my baby boy just last week a group of charmeleons attacked us.. my boy got cought in the cross fire . hes been sick ever since we have no medicine either..

the elder brings abottle of mashed oranberry juice and puts it in the childs mouth

kelldeer---- why.. why did.

rex--- food kid.. food sam reason it happens alllll over the place when your tired.. hungry.. your sitsers or brothers crying for even some molded berries.. your emotions take over and some times violence is yoru only answer in your brain all foged up with pain hunger and emotions.

kelldeer-- fine.. if you wont man up i will you have food.. fine give us a years worth and ill give you evry bit of valubles i have and then.. FOR MY DAM SISTER ILL MAKE THIS WORLD BETTER..

the room falls silent as the zoroark whos always been moody but other wise quiet and laied back is now near sobbing tears streaming down his face his mouth a snarl fists clenched as he growls and storms out the entire room dead silent.. as if not a single soul lives untill the infant coughs up alittle oran berry mush braking the silence.

kelldeer---- that kids somthing else..

elder saraphine--- hes got a kid sister.. he gives most of his food to her as shes younger and needs more to grow.. were as hes able to live off what the woods offer. hes out hunter.. one of a few actualy. always asking what can be done to bring us out of this rut we barely have a weeks worth of food with whet he and the other 4 hunters bring for 300 souls.. he worries me.

rex---his hear bleeds for his family.. that look.. i almost thought hed want to pry the food from me.

elder saraphine chuckling--- ha ha ha no he wont do that he cherishes life far to much.. he may not show it but the kids fallen for yoru caravan.. dont be go witten it of as him blabin to blab off hes willfull persistant and smarter then most of us elder folk.. dont tell him i said that we gota stay the wize elders wer are seen as he he he.

rex--- you sly old codgers you folks arent know as tricksters for nothing arent you

she gives a soft blep and smile before wiping the young kits face and cheking the poor kids now healed wounds giving a thumbs up while kelldeer talks to all the sneasel and weevile holding a note book and pen he crafted from a chared stick taking notes about trading and the various currencies they have encountered. soon kelldeer gives all the gems trinkets and other odds and ends to the trade caravan stuff hes collected over hi 6 years of hunting and gathering much to thier shock having enough value to purchase out thier entire food stock of dried fruits meats and even fresh veggetables even getting a toy for his 5 year old sister after they leave the sun is already setting as kelldeers mother prepares a hearty soup with the bounty he gathered.. with rationing a good 2 years of food in terms of dried goods about 2 weeks of veggies as well.

velma--- so i hear you saved the village for the next couple years.

lily--- big bwuva smawt

kelldeer--- lily. anunceate your words please… its big brother .. and its my big brother is smart sweet bean.

she sticks out her toungue making him sigh to tired to fuss with it

kelldeer-- you know the only reason im not drilling it in is because im tire dyou little brat.. behave for mom ok.. dad is out hunting still.

velma--- ha ha hes in for a super shock when he gets back.

they all smile as she servs the bowls of thick meaty sup with onions carrots potatoes deer and beef made with a thick broth and kelldeer looks at the bowl crying silently confusing his sister.

lily--- momy why is he crying.. is he upset the food is bad.

velma--- no dear hes not.. your worried about when the food runs out arent you.

kelldeer---a.and when i head out. im tired of us not having enough food to thrive.. this village used to be so much bigger ..when i was10 we hadd over 500 villagers most of them have left or starved out and now i find we could have been trading for food… 6 YEARS OF ME COLLECTING JUNK… and its suddenly enough for alll of the food i just got us.. more food then ive ever gotten in a week of hunting and gathering.. im going to go out learn about the world and create a universal currency that all can use.. and find trust worthy traders like those sneasel and weevile.

velma-- hun.. think about what that entails.. youl be gone fore ever and what if you dont make yoru coin.. if you want to go you can but be careful.. dont get your hopes up just to get them crushed ok..its ok to dream as long as you dont loose your self in it.

kelldeer--- i know mom.. you said the same when i siad i wanted to hunt ive kept us going this long. but the drying is getting worse.. the rivers are nearly gone the deer are spreading thin.. id i dont go soon it may be tolate to save the ..the world not just the village.

she puts her paw on his and smiles just as his father a rare albino kantonian zoroark often mistaken for beeing a hisuian zoroark

felldon-- somthing smells great

velma--- that would be your sons amazing junk saving us for a couple years.. all those things you thought were just random junk.. he traded for food.. and a toy for his sister..

felldon-- collor me shocked. then.i owe you an apology kiddo im sorry i judged your collections.. but ithought they were .

kelldeer--- food was far more important then my collections..ill miss my treasures but treasures dont fill the stomach..as you once put it.

felldon---i was pretty angry then wasnt i… i apologize

kellderr walks over and hugs his father purring and they all sit down to eat feldon seeing the tear stained fur on his sons face.

felldon-- you ok kiddo..youve been crying.

kelldeer nods eating his soup.

velma--hes a tad bit upset of the state of the village and our food ..hes got a plan aparently.. though i am worried. can you train little lilly to be a hunter when shes old enough.

kelldeer--- ill also show the others were i do most of my hunting in the valley before i head out i know my plan will work out some how. it has to .. for lilly and all the kits in the village and the elders.. those old bats need food just as much as the children.

felldon givs a quiet nod and dinner goes by with a almost sad atmosphere ervyone knowing that soon kelldeer will leave the village into the chaotic and unpredictiable outside world. the next morning kelldeer starts making breakfeast waking up before evryone making some sausage and tomato soup plating evrything up just as evryone wakes up.

felldon--- he he here i was thinking id need to cook thismorning ha ha ha ha

kelldeer--- morning dad. i made yoru favorite today im also going to need help gathering all the hunters so i can show them my hunting paths and such i have a map of the area were i hunt theres also lots of berry bushes deep in the valley as well.

felldon sits down as the others walk to the table

felldon--- sure i can help ya ther kiddo. as long as you tell me this plan of yours first deal.. i know your old enough to venture on your own but i .. im still worried.

kelldeer-- yea i can do that.. my plan is basicly im going to leave and travel the world learning evryones trading systems and currencies.. learn whats most common and use that to make a unified currency of some kind..

felldon smiles and puts his paws under his chin elbows on the table

felldon--- after having talked with the elders and learned more about what happend yesterday..i have to say thats a dam good plan.. just be carefull people out there are scared and hungry by the sounds of things.

kelldeer nods having already gotten more detailed accounts from the sneasel and weevile and the family sits down to eat together lilly beeing as messy as always her furr covered in bits of meat and tomato soup after eating and cleaning up felldon and kelldeer gather up other 4 hunters joanah, mako, nexus and lorkan.

kelldeer-- sorry for gathering evryone suddenly like this but.. i have to leave the village.. before i do that im sharing my hunting grounds with evryone.

lorkan--whoa whoa whoa wait aminute your doing what…

joanah--.. ok.whats going on

mako and nexus in unison--- shut up and listen to the kid

mako--- he did get us food for a couple years

nexus--- we have to ration it but its still more then weve ever had since the drying lets listen to our little hero

kelldeer blushes but explains his plan to them showing his hunting grounds the berry bushes and other fruit picking spots areas hes found wild veggies and.

felldon-- in the mean time we should start training up more hunters lily is only old enough to start learning how to track animals but i know some others who are 10.. and ready to hunt

kelldeer-- hunting when done right is fun.. ill miss it but..if my plan works we wont need to want for food any more.

lorkan and joanah sigh in defeat knowing they cant change the young zoroarks mind

lorkan--your as stubborn as your father some time syou know that.. ha ha ha.

kelldeer chuckles and gives the hunters friendly hugs and begins to pack his stuff after reminding them to collect any odd trinkets , gems or interesting items they find as they can be traded as well hugging his parrents and his little sister he ventures off exploring evry corner of the continent of neonis from the cintrus berry islands to the east to the west in the silva island cluster the mountains north of the river that flows north east into lake palicon alll the way to the most northern edge were a fairly barron but still habitable island houses 2 small citties thriving on mostly fish and birds. he finds that gold and silver tend to catch peoples attention more as wlll as n od choice of metal called xeracine. so he heads back home having spent 9 years traveling to find the hunters have begin finding a few more animals evry week keeping a steady meat supply going lately the drying easing up but food still quite scarce luckily trade caravans having been told of a friendly town have more then made up for the lack of animals.

he walks into his little village abit more lively then when he left it but still filled with un ease as food all though stable now has fluxuated frequantly and still does but now childrens lauging and joy can be heard and suddenly hes pounced into the dirt with a playful growl in his face as his sister now 14 is happy to see him.

lilly--- your back your back your back..

kelldeer---good lord could you be any more agressive ha ha ha ha ha.. i love you to baby sister

lilly---- hey im a hunter now.. im not a baby.

kelldeer-- youl always be my baby sister hun.. im older then you.

she smiles and helps him up and they head to thier house.

kelldeer-- i see we have new kits in the village

lilly--- yea about a couple years after you left the hunters managed to fin a small patch of gems uner a cave and collected them though they werent to happy about having to.. and that same day the sneasel and weevile carravan came back to trade food hasnt been fixed but at the moment.. its.. some what stable…… uh..we also have new sibling.. an

kelldeer rubs her head softly--- aww did my baby sister become a big sister now.. whats our siblings name

lilly--..w.what your not upset.

kelldeer---- hell no. im happy to have a new borther or a sister what ever the case may be

after saying that a small white zoroua runs out and jumps into her arms sticking his tounge out

lily-- fell why arent you in bed

Fell---nuh napp nawt tiwed..

lilly picks him up by his scruff and stares him in the eyes

lilly--- you get your white furred little rump back in that bedroom and go to sleep or ill tell mom you snuck into the cookies again

he yelps and runs inside after she sets him down

kelldeer--- ha ha he looks so much like dad..how old is he

lilly--he turns 3 tomorrow

kelldeer smiles and ruffles her main softly

kelldeer--- im proud of you sis..im sorry i was gone for so long but im home ti stay now..got some stuff i need to do still but i think the world is going to change… in a big way.

lilly--um..could i….kell..

kelldeer sees shes embarrassed on somthing.

kelldeer ---whats bothering you sis..

lilly blushes and whispers in hes ear

lilly---i.started having accidents in my nest again and i dont want to tell mom

kelldeer holds back a chuckle and just rubs her back

kelldeer--- mom wont make fun of you sis dont worry your secrets safe with me but.. i think the little rug rat might have loose lips if he finds out his older sisters secret so be sure to tell her your self.

she sighs embarresed but nods. and chuckles

lilly--- other then that can i help with your project

kelldeer--- definately id love the help the project is going to be making a coin the front will have mew and the back a zoroarks face.. your a better artist them i am so id love the help

lily--- he he and your a better hunter then i am guess were even

they head on in the house and he sits down at the table pulling his back pack over and putting materials on the able to stark making coins.

from this point on the world slowly found out about a strange new coin beeing celled the mewn a single xeracine disk with gold on the front silver on the back and intricutely carved mew and zoroark its.. with in 200 years the econimies of the world merged to this 1 coin kelldeers name next to the zorroark and the fron words saying in mother mew we trust.

1 note · View note

dinaive · 1 year ago

Text

an-Nuayman r.a - part 2

The vendor of the food then came to an-Nuayman to collect the price of it and an-Nuayman said to him: "Go to the Messenger of God it was for him. He and his family ate it."The vendor went to the Prophet who in turn asked an-Nuayman: "Didn't you give it to me?" "Yes," said an-Nuayman. "I thought you would like it and I wanted you to eat some of it so I had it presented to you. But I don't have any dirhams to pay the vendor for it. So, pay, O Messenger of God!"The Prophet had a good laugh and so did his companions. The laugh was at his expense, literally, for he had to pay the price of the unsolicited gift. An-Nuayman felt that two benefits came out of the incident: the Prophet and his family ate food that they enjoyed and the Muslims had a good laugh.Once Abu Bakr and some companions went on a trading expedition to Busra. Various people on the trip were given fixed duties. Suwaybit ibn Harmalah was made responsible for food and provisions. An-Nuayman was one of the group and on the way he became hungry and asked Suwaybit for some food. Suwaybit refused and an-Nuayman said to him:"Do you know what I would yet do with you?" and went on to warn and threaten him but still Suwaybit refused. An-Nuayman then went to a group of Arabs in the suq and said to them: "Would you like to have a strong and sturdy slave whom I can sell to you." They said yes and an-Nuayman went on: "He has got a ready tongue and is very articulate. He would resist you and say: 'I am free.' But don't listento him"The men paid the price of the slave - ten qala'is (pieces of gold) and an-Nuayman accepted it and appeared to complete the transaction with business-like efficiency. The buyers accompanied him to fetch theft purchase. Pointing to Suwaybit, he said: "This is the slave whom I sold to you."The men took hold of Suwaybit and he shouted for dear life and freedom. "I am free. I am Suwaybit ibn Harmalah..."But they paid no attention to him and dragged him off by the neck as they would have done with any slave.All the while, an-Nuayman did not laugh or batter an eyelid. He remained completely calm and serious while Suwaybit continued to protest bitterly. Suwaybit's fellow travellers, realizing what was happening, rushed to fetch Abu Bakr, the leader of the caravan, who came running as fast as he could. He explained to the purchasers what had happened and so they released Suwaybit and had their money returned. Abu Bakr then laughed heartily and so did Suwaybit and an-Nuayman. Back in Madinah, when the episode was recounted to the Prophet and his companions, they all laughed even more.A man once came to the Prophet on a delegation and tethered his camel at the door of the Masjid. The Sahabah noticed that the camel had a large fat hump and their appetite for succulent tasty meat was stimulated. They turned to Nuayman and asked: "Would you deal with this camel? Cont.

0 notes

the-drowsy-captains-art · 2 years ago

Text

Class: Biped Planet: Io (Jupiter's Moon) Height: Lifespan: 70 Standard Io Years

Appearance

Io skin tones are various shades of blue. They are humanoid in appearance, with a few variations. They have two fingers with circular pads on the tips of their fingers and thumb. Their ears are pointed, with detached, drooping earlobes, and stick straight out from their head. Their noses are large ridges that come up above their eyes, and fork into three points. A large stalk extends from the tip of their nose, ending in a third eye.

It is believed they appear this way as the final few human logs are from those stricken with frostbite. The terraforming system had determined that humans evolved to be blue-skinned.

Economy

The Io have constructed their economy around fair treatment. They do not consider needs to require money. Instead, they ensure free housing, food and clean water for everyone through many government and community funded systems.

The Io economy is based around luxury items, as needs are met in other manners. Jobs pay fair wages to their employees based on the number of hours worked, and those wages can be used to purchase goods and services not necessary to living. Luxury items are everything from candy to clothing to technology.

The Io currency is called Pendants. These pendants are clipped to chains worn around necks or waists. Each pendant is worth a different amount depending on its colouration and size.

Government

The Io have a democratic, socialist government. Each colony governs itself through an elected council which rotates every 5 years. Officials can be elected up to three times, but cannot hold office if they are over 50. This law is in place to ensure that current public opinion is being heard, not the echo of past generations. Laws that are seen as essential can be encased, ensuring that they cannot be overwritten by a new government unless they have justification to do so. To overwrite an encased law involves the public voting on the matter, as well as the council.

Crime & Legal System

Even Utopian societies have criminals. However, the Io do not have prisons. Criminals are tried based on evidence and testimony, and their verdict is found by an anonymous jury. The usual sentence is community service and rehabilitation courses. The harshest sentence is the death penalty. Sentences are determined by the crimes they commit. An act of murder can earn the death penalty; theft of property can earn community service. Money is not involved in the legal process so that everyone has a fair trial.

Foreign Relations

The Io colonies consider themselves separate city states. They function independently from one another. Relations between city states fluctuates with each election, but they are often on solid footing with a mutual peace. Occasionally city states will grow hostile to each other, but wars rarely break out. This hostility usually leads to reduced trade between city states.

Society & Culture

Arts, Entertainment & Recreation

The Io have a broad selection of entertainment. They have access to audio dramas and music from before the collapse, yet nothing with video. They have constructed their own media around the idea that video is unnecessary. They create many audio dramas, have radio shows and have a vast amount of music. They have even invented several new genres of music, one of which originates from walking songs Caravans sing.

Tapestries are valued over paintings, and blankets are often woven with stories. These stories can be life stories or fictional. When pods graduate they are often given a tapestry of their lives up to that point by family members.

Architecture

Io's colonies were constructed during the first half of the 24th century, and very little was changed during the late 24th century. Io's citizens favored the kaleidoscopic designs and minimalistic layouts. After the collapse, Io's colonies stayed mostly intact. They were, however, enchanted due to Io's proximity to Saturn. This means occasionally the rooms will shift around, it's easier to get lost inside the colonies, and that colours will change on their own. Despite this, the Io love living in the colonies and find the anomalies charming.

See [[Humanity's Golden Age]] for early to mid 24th century architecture.

Calendar

32 months long, with 18 days in each month, and 8 days a week. Except for the last one that has 19 on leap years. They consider a year one quarter rotation around the sun. Each day lasts 48 hours.

Daily Life

Young Io spend their days at school. School lasts 27 hours, and the remaining hours are spent at home having dinner, doing homework and playing with their friends.

Adult Io spend 30 hours a day at their jobs and the rest at home. They have four days a week off, and work for four days. When they aren't working they spend time with their children, listen to audio dramas, visit recreational areas around the colony (concerts, gardens, shopping centres, etc.).

Elder Io (55-70) spend 10 hours a day at their jobs, if any. Elder Io usually live on pensions for their luxury goods and government support for their needs.

Diet

The Io are omnivorous. They eat a balanced diet thanks to their extensive farms within the domed colonies. They eat a lot of fish due to ice fishing outside of the colonies, and some of their dishes involve frozen meat instead of cooked meat. It is seen as a delicacy.

Dining Customs

Pods eat all their meals together, except for lunch, which is eaten at work/school. Meals are prepared together, with even the children helping, and dishes are also done together. Pods often have assigned dishwashers and cooks to lighten the workload.

Education

When Io are 6 they start attending school. School lasts for 14 years, during which they are taught everything from mathematics to science to history. During their 10th year they start focusing on specific fields of study. These fields of study are used by the government to assign them specific jobs.

They spend the first four years of school socializing with all their peers. Grade 5 is considered a transitionary period in which they rotate pods until grade 6 where they are assigned their permanent pod. Typically, these pods do not change for the rest of their lives. However, there are rare cases of new members joining pods, and old members leaving.

Ethics & Values

They have very similar values to humans. Learning from the logs left behind, they have constructed their society to the best Utopia they can muster. They value community, team-work, equity and meeting everyone's wants, not just their needs.

Fashion & Dress

Io fashion is bright, colourful and full of patterns. They are particularly fond of wavy designs that resemble liquids.

They have large jackets with puffy sleeves that resemble bomber jackets. These jackets came back in style during the War (pre-collapse) and were worn frequently by military forces. The Io encountered patterns to create these jackets, as well as a few well-preserved examples. They have adopted these as a way to honour their ancestors. They also wear large, knee-high armoured boots, which come from War time fashion.

Io pants are loose and flowy. They are a square piece of fabric above the knees that gather into slender, form-fitting lower pieces. They are also sewn into the form-fitting leotards Io wear on their upper bodies. These leotards have long sleeves and are often patterned.

In addition to clothing, Io wear a lot of jewelry. Rings, piercings, ear spacers; the Io pierce whatever they can. Each piercing tells a different part of their life. Hoops along their outer ears indicate every ten years of age; ear spacers indicate their address (someone from an inner city has full spacers, someone from the wilds have rings); piercings across the eyebrow ridges indicate career and current position.

The Wilds

Those who live in the wilds dress in far more layers. Io's surface is extremely cold. Anyone who leaves the colonies wears heavy layers meant to withstand temperatures far below freezing. Multiple layers of pants and shirts are worn, as well as large jackets that reach down to their knees. Clothing has often been enchanted to heat the wearer.

History

The Io are significantly more advanced than other Broken Sanctum races (save for the Starwalkers) due to their archives containing data from the Golden Age of Humanity. They have access to much of the technology left behind by the Humans and believe themselves to be the chosen few left saved by Hesearo, a benevolent God, from near-extinction. They believe their evolution is a result of Hesearo blessing them with their presence and altering the very fabric of reality by doing so.

Language

Io speak Ion. This language is very similar to Human Standard, however, it is more pronounced and accented so they can shout across long distances. This is especially helpful for those in caravans, as it allows them to communicate over the howl of winds.

Gestures

The Io use a variety of hand signals to supplement Ion. These hand signals can be used to interpret spoken language for those who are deaf or hard of hearing.

Manners

Upper classes of Io are sticklers for manners. Lowe classes of Io laugh at their constant use of manners, calling them uptight. All manners have carried over from records of pre-collapse Humans.

Meeting & Greeting

When meeting an unfamiliar Io, they shake hands.

When greeting a familiar non-pod-member Io, they clasp their hands together and pull each other together in a hug.

When greeting a pod member, they wind around each other, hugging tightly and tangling their eyestalks together.

When greeting a child, they hug the child, often picking them up and spinning them around.

When two children greet each other they mimic adult Io by clasping their hands together and hugging. They often accidentally knock their eyestalks against each other.

Religion & Philosophy

The Io worship a God named Hesearo. The name literally translates into "saviour" or "god" in Ion. They believe that Hesearo saved Humanity from near extinction and that they are their chosen children. Hesearo transcends all forms. This is their explanation for how there are so many different interpretations and renditions of Hesearo.

When an Io reaches 70, they are visited by Hesearo, who tells them that it is time for them to enter the sacred temple. This sacred temple lies underneath each Io colony, and has enchantments that restrict anyone who hasn't been selected from entering. They do not come back from the sacred temple, and other Io believe that they have ascended. Unfortunately, the Io is slaughtered and prepared for harvest by the Architects.

Social Organization

The Io live in family units called Pods. Pods consist of adult Io in close relationships (romantic or platonic), and their children. Not every pod has children. Pods are formed during school years, and remain after graduation. Pods purchase dwellings together, but aren't considered exclusive. Many pods intermingle with other pods, especially neighbouring pods, creating larger communities.

Io are divided by wealth. Wealth signifies how much luxury you can afford, and there is a heavy divide between those who earn more and those who earn less. Communities are often made up of those in the same economic class, and navigating other economic classes is seen as a difficult task. The Io have a trope in their media of a lower class Io meeting a high class Io who shows them all the delights of the upper crust.

Magic & Science

Magic & Casters

The Io are encouraged by "Hesearo" (an Architect masquerading as Hesearo) to incorporate magic in their daily lives. They are able to integrate pre-collapse technology into their daily lives thanks to their magical proficiency.

Medicine

The Io do not stray far from Human biology. With help from modern medical records from before the collapse, Io doctors were able to create an expansive medical database. This has helped prolong life-expectancy and improved the quality of life for many Io.

Science & Technology

The Io have access to a large amount of Human technology and research. The Io archives were left largely intact as they were too heavily encrypted for the Architects to "cleanse". This has led the Io to a child-like state, in the wake of their "parents" (Humans). They follow what has been laid out before them, and have tried to restore themselves to a similar state as humanity. There are many logs in the archives that speak of the downfalls and regrets of humanity. These are things the Io strive to correct in their own society.

Transportation & Communication

The Io have restored the monorails that run within their colonies, however, the cross-planet monorail system is beyond repair. To circumvent this, the Io have travelling caravans that transport goods, mail and people between colonies. These caravans are often made up of several pods who work together as a larger community. They do not settle in a colony, and instead live within the wagons they use to transport mail. These wagons are designed like traditional Io homes, with all the necessities required to make it a comfortable living space. They often have loft beds and will decorate the inside of their wagons with tapestries and trinkets they've collected during their travels.

#the broken sanctum #drowsys art #thaorin’s gate #thaorin's gate #world building

1 note · View note

monstersandmaw · 2 years ago

Note

Any backstory on the new dunmer lad? 👀

Was gonna share this photo on Instagram stories and then realised no one on there is interested. One (1) person on here is, so there you go:

This is Næthir, my very grumpy, slightly mud-spattered, bitter dunmer (why do all the elf character design options look so… skrunkly??). Literally 2 seconds after taking those photos he got attacked by a bear and three wolves and contracted bone break fever, so he’s really not having a good day.

I don’t have much for him yet, except that he doesn’t have a home or a family, and he’s been on his own since he was a child. He learned to pick pockets and steal food from market stalls, and he worked as a stable hand for a merchant for a while until there was a spate of thefts at the house and he was accused because he’s a dunmer. It was nothing to do with him, but he was dismissed anyway, which only made him hate humans all the more.

He travelled all the way to Windhelm when he was about 15 because he’d always been told by people that there was a community of Dunmer folk there (usually in a nasty “go join your people in Windhelm, elf” way), but he didn’t stay long because there was so little work and way to make a living there. Besides, it was bloody freezing. He went to Solstheim for a few years and then went south again, crossed the border and was working for a khajiit caravan as a smuggler when he was caught and taken to Helgen. He’s only 19 at the start of the game (as opposed to Lein who is 27), but he’s sour, bitter, and not a very kind person. The only people he is kind to are the homeless children he meets on his travels, and he will always give them what he can to help out, knowing what it’s like to live without a home or a family.

He’s panromantic, demisexual, not super intelligent, but not stupid, athletic, very good at killing things (he’s gonna fit right in with the DB and the thieves guild), is relatively strong with magic (he reads a few spell books from the khajiit traders and learns some basic spells but not much beyond that until he goes to Winterhold), and he doesn’t suffer fools gladly read: at all. He has little time for the racist nords either, and resents the way humans treat him as an elf in Skyrim.

That was cheerful, wasn’t it? He gets less bitter as he grows up and goes through the events of the game, but he’s always got that sarcastic, wry humour and he isn’t very good at making friends. Lydia drives him up the wall, but he likes Serana after a time, and Balimund the smith in Riften is kind to him. He feels most at home with the DB and the Thieves Guild.

#his ears are also super sensitive but no one needs to know that #Dunmer #Skyrim oc #Skyrim dragonborn #Skyrim #dark elf #grumpy skrunkly boy #behold a new blorbo #he’s rude but he has reason to be

19 notes · View notes

thespiral · 4 years ago

Text

INTRODUCING THE 80S DOCUMENT... a comprehensive doc on this funny mentioned-only raider faction that is incredibly fucking cool and a crime no one has mentioned them yet

this is more or less a compilation of different canon, semi-canon and fanon references! most of it taken from the hearts of iron 4 mod old world blues, joshua sawyer's simple and sprinkled some fanon from my head in here as well. this is to hopefully make other people aware of these guys!

a MASSIVE thanks to my partner alex for helping me write this up, the tops server members for lore council, esseress and everyone else who i rambled on and on about these guys. thank you so much

you can find the document here!

(and also under the cut!)

The 80s are a gang of raiders that operate along the Northern California 80 Freeway, mostly in the region northeast of the lawless, uncontrolled city of Sacramento. They occupy their own territory stretching between New California and the shores of Great Salt Lake, bordering the land of their longtime enemies the White Legs.

They are known for raiding frontier towns for supplies, kidnapping people, their tireless pursuit of enemies and for their occasional use of motorcycles. They are rightly feared for their ability to cover large areas of land with very few men using said motorcycles. They have recently spread out over a larger area, notably the I-80, due to the collapse of the Nevada Desert Rangers and the NCR's inability to patrol or keep tabs on the territory.

History

After the bombs desolated the country, the 80s began as a group of people that banded together out of necessity and trekked through the I-80, believing that the highway had to lead somewhere safe. The early origins of the 80s are muddled by word of mouth and mostly forgotten, but they fully coalesced into a raider faction when others learned to fear them.

The first peak of the 80s’ was reached when they took Sacramento for their own. For the first time, many 80s began to settle down and build a raiding community, often attacking smaller settlements in the area. These transgressions eventually led to the New California Republic expanding and securing its borders by taking Sacramento back, forcing the 80s out of the city.

The 80s then tore through Nevada, following the I-80 and launching massive raids on almost every community they came across for supplies and equipment, including NCR cities such as New Reno or Vault City. This led to even greater notoriety and, despite having been mauled by the NCR, drove fear into the heart of the Republic as they made their way to Utah.

Currently, the 80s have mostly settled in Wendover, expanding it into a town. Most of their conflicts lie with the neighboring White Legs, and they await the opportunity to strike back at the NCR and reclaim Sacramento.

Culture

The 80s primary philosophies are that other 80s come before all else, that the enemy of their enemy is their friend, and that settling down is the opposite of freedom. They value a wild and free lifestyle, cheap thrills, mechanical and driving prowess, and the road. While some communities support them along the roads, they are their own priority above all, and many relations with other groups are sustained through physical threat.

While all 80s can be defined by a few common traits, most of them are decentralized and spread across various chapters. Each has their own rules, hierarchies and banners. Some chapters are nomadic, while others settle in towns they have conquered, and others live in self-made settlements by the road.

Identification between each chapter varies from chapter to chapter, with the most common traits being tattoos, body art, patches on armour and jackets, and so on. While in-fighting between chapters is common, the 80s are generally extremely close-knit compared to other raider factions. In most chapters, higher-ranking members wear red or blue I-80 road signs, while regular members wear the more common green signs, and initiates and hangarounds have no signs.

While most 80s are born into their respective chapters, the 80s will occasionally take on new initiates that are young or have potential when it comes to driving and repair skills. An initiate, or hangaround, mostly runs errands for fully-fledged 80s until the others have decided they are eligible for an initiation ritual. Most potential initiates have to go through a ritual to prove their worth, such as salvaging a motorcycle and making it their own.

Economy

When the 80s started out, they were disorganized and originally had to rely on raiding to get by. During their early years, raiding was quite profitable in the wasteland, and this time period would later be called the golden age of raiding. As time went on, however, theft and slavery became unsustainable as societies grew, and many chapters of the 80s were forced to turn to other means of survival.

Using their vehicles to travel greater distances faster than any other society could manage, many chapters of the 80s turned to drug trade, gun running, package delivery, caravan running and trading. Many chapters have become their own communities, and some have settled in certain locations to farm. There are still active raiding chapters, but in the present they are few and far between.

Despite no longer solely relying on raiding, some chapters still intimidate weaker communities into giving tribute to them, having no issue doing so with their vehicles. They also charge a travel tax on all outsiders that would cross their roads.

Military and Technology

The 80s are well-known for their expertise in and quantity of vehicles ranging from the common motorcycle to the large semi-truck. The 80s scavenge, repair and even build their own vehicles, and almost every member at least has their own motorcycle, as a common initiation rite requires new members to salvage their own bike. They also find and use old schematics to improve upon their designs, or create their own from scratch.

Most 80s make their own equipment when they cannot scavenge, from tires and tools to homemade fuel. Many bikes have been made to run on ethanol and other biofuels, while others run on energy cells, fusion cells, or any energy source that’s available.

Using these vehicles, the 80s utilize speed to break through enemy walls in battle, and often overwhelm their opponents before they can truly attack. They rely on hit-and-run tactics, and as a result have great offense and poor defense. For example, one common attack involves holding out a machete while driving by the enemy; destructive, but leaves the rider open for many attacks.

The most commonly used weapons are anything close and decimating. Many 80s carry shotguns, automatic guns and throwable explosives that are relatively easy to use while riding.

Politics and Diplomatic Relations

The cultural tenet of the 80s coming before anyone else carries into their politics. Little of the outside world affects their internal politics or laws (or lack thereof). They are somewhat hypocritical in that they believe in freedom for themselves and no one else. The 80s have no one leader, and overall are decentralized as a faction.

Each chapter has their own subset of laws, or none at all. While most 80s are close-knit, there is currently infighting between chapters as they debate on whether to settle down or continue raiding. Some believe that settling down goes against what the 80s stand for and would be abandoning their origins, while others believe they won’t stand a chance against other factions if they continue to raid.

The 80s are relatively cold toward other factions, with few allies and many enemies. They are generally neutral toward other raiding factions, such as the Jackals or the Vipers, but would put aside their differences for the sake of attacking the greater enemy, such as with the Great Khans or the Powder Gangers. No matter what, however, they will make it clear that they are their own priority.

The New California Republic is one of the 80s greatest and most powerful enemies. From the very beginning, the 80s and the NCR have fought each other as the 80s raided civilians and the NCR tried to stomp them out along with other raider factions. This culminated in the NCR taking Sacramento and forcing the 80s to leave for Utah, marking the NCR as the 80s’ worst enemy. Any 80s would not hesitate at any opportunity to get back at the NCR, no matter how petty or who they would have to ally with.

After the 80s were forced to travel to Utah, their territory began to border the White Legs’, and they frequently intruded on their land. This has led to many skirmishes between the two factions as they compete for their own territory.

While Caesar’s Legion does not have much presence in the West, many 80s have heard of this new threat against the NCR, and most who have are eager for any potential ally to get back at the NCR for Sacramento. The 80s know little of the Legion or what would happen to them if the Legion was successful, but are willing to do anything if it meant victory.

References

https://fallout-archive.fandom.com/wiki/Simple_organizations#80s

J.E. Sawyer’s Fallout Roleplaying Game

Hearts of Iron 4: Old World Blues

And all the other people that helped contribute to this document

#fallout new vegas #fnv #fallout

165 notes · View notes

queen-scribbles · 3 years ago

Text

The Long Burning Torch ch 3

Oh, look, another chapter for the 20s AU I started for the @shepherds-of-haven Summer Event, which has taken on a life of its own. In this chapter: A couple new (but familiar!) faces, and the plot thickens.

----

Five minutes into Ashtown proper, Xaeryn was exceedingly grateful for the directions Mr. Syndran had provided. He hadn’t been wrong comparing the place to a warren.

“You look lost, doll.”

Her head snapped up from the paper in her hand to meet the gaze of a lanky man lounging against a wall, a soft cap slouched down over his forehead. His--very familiar--green eyes were much more vivid in person than they had been in her scry.

Xaeryn arched a brow coolly. “And what led you to that conclusion?”

He smirked and pushed away from the wall. “The way you keep checking that paper for one, Sunshine.” His hands slid in his pockets. “Also, we don’t get dames that look like you here all that often. Anything I can help you find?”

“You’re awfully helpful,” Xaeryn said, resisting the urge to run a hand down her outfit.

He doffed his cap and sketched an exaggerated bow, giving her a wink when he righted. “Consider me the Ashtown welcoming committee.”

“And what a charming first impression you make.” Xaeryn regarded him for a moment or two more, then decided to see how things would play out. “I’m trying to find Chase Trinaeste.”

The man’s eyes twinkled, bright as the scarf tossed ‘round his neck. “I think I can help with that. Right this was, Sunshine,” he said blithely, as if he wasn’t the aforementioned Trinaeste himself.

A large part of Mr. Syndran’s adamant belief Thieves guild had been involved in the theft rode on Trinaeste’s presence in her scryed vision. “He trusts his lieutenants with the vast majority of their... jobs,” Mr. Syndran had explained, nose wrinkling slightly in distaste. “His being there shows it was a heist of high importance to their gang, fitting the theft of an artefact.”

Xaeryn had no reason to doubt his logic. But she’d be a fool to show all the cards she held at the outset.

“My name is not ‘sunshine’,” she said briskly instead.

“Well, then, doll, what am I calling ya?” Trinaeste asked, unruffled by her tone.

“Miss Shrike will do for now, I think. And what do I call you?”

“Who says you need to call me anything?” he returned as he led her down several new streets in quick succession.

“It might come in handy if I want to commend your hospitality to Mr. Trinaeste,” she countered, trying her best to memorize their route. Left, left, right...

“I’ll get by, Miss Shrike,” Trinaeste said with a light laugh.

He was very good at dodging, she did have to give him that. “For politeness’ sake, then. Perhaps I’d feel better about following you into the depths of Ashtown if I at least knew your name.”

He laughed again, pausing by a wall decorated with a... creative interpretation of a cat’s head. “Well, then. I have a confession to make, in that case.”

“Oh?” Xaeryn marked the two brunos nearby--one down an alley, the other lounging by a door--despite their affected nonchalance. “And what would that be?”

“Chase Trinaeste at your service.” He skipped the exaggerated bow this time, instead shoving his hands in his pockets, elbows akimbo, and grinning at her cheekily. “Now that you’ve found me, what do you plan to do with me?”

“First thing that comes to mind is ask why we couldn’t have the introductions back where we first spoke?”

“Let’s say I feel safer on home turf, doll. Just in case your reason for wanting me is less fun than I’m hoping.”

She glanced significantly at one of the toughs. “And if this arrangement doesn’t thrill me?”

“You can leave,” Trinaeste said with a shrug. “We ain’t going to stop you.” His grin widened, cat-like. “But you seem the type who doesn’t like leaving empty-handed, Miss Shrike.” He gestured toward the door next to one member of their small audience. “Whatever it is you’re after, I think we’ll be more comfortable in my office, don’t you?”

She doubted he cared between the two locations as strongly as she doubted it was an actual office, but Xaeryn did have to admit some privacy for this conversation would be a good thing. “Do I strike you as the type to just follow strange men into unfamiliar buildings, Mr. Trinaeste?”

He laughed. “A dangerous question, doll. You strike strike me as the type who enjoys a good mystery.”

(Or even a bad one, Xaeryn finished wryly to herself.)

Trinaeste raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. “On my honor as head of the guild, I promise you will leave in the same condition and carrying the same things as when you got here, so long as you don’t threaten me or mine.”

“A fair deal,” she said in assent, and nodded toward the door. “After you.”

Red would have a heart attack if he knew what she was doing. She swallowed a laugh at the thought; less than a week reconnected and his reaction was one of the first things to cross her mind. Her gut said it would be a worthwhile risk. While Trinaeste was indisputably a dangerous man, there was a clear sense of ‘only when necessary’ to his skill that gave her confidence she would be fine.

“One more condition,” Trinaeste said as he led the way into the building. “Call me Chase. No idea who ‘Mr. Trinaeste’ is, but he sounds too high-class to be me.”

He’d kowtowed to her chosen address easily enough, and she did want him amenable to talking. She could grin and bear the informality for one conversation. “Very well.”

They didn’t go far from the outer door before Chase swung to the side through another doorway. Xaeryn almost tripped over the abruptness as she followed. There was no desk, or any other typical office furniture save chairs. There were five of those; loosely grouped on one side of the room. Opposite them a stack of shipping crates were shoved against a tapestry-hung wall. It was eclectic and flamboyant and (she’d just bet) full of secrets. A perfect match for the man now flopped in one of the fairly-comfortable looking chairs and grinning at her again.

“So, Miss Shrike, what did you want from me?”

(From the way his eyes twinkled, that phrasing was very much on purpose.)

Xaeryn chose her seat and her reply with equal care; the former so she could see both her host and the door, the latter to convey intent without accusing. Yet. “I’m investigating a theft and have reason to believe you may have seen something helpful.”

Chase laughed. “You think I did it.”

“You do helm the Thieves guild, Chase,” she said lightly, crossing her legs and flicking dust off her hem. So much for trying to be subtle.

“Fair point,” he conceded with another laugh, before leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees and his chin on his palms with still-twinkling eyes. “So, what is it you think we stole?”

“An artefact.”

She was interrupted before giving a description as Chase’s grin went cat-like gain and the twinkle in his eyes shifted to a hard glitter. “Syndran set you on us, didn’t he? What did he lose?”

“Mr. Syndran didn’t lose anything. Transit is a possibility for when a piece was stolen,” Xaeryn said primly. “And while, yes, he may have pointed me in your direction as an avenue of investigation, I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I followed accusations that lacked supporting evidence.”

“Ah, you’re a private dick,” Chase smirked, eyes once again twinkling in amusement. “Tell you what, Miss Shrike, since you bein’ here is bountiful evidence Riel’s people not only dropped the ball, but bad enough he doesn’t want to involve the cops, I’ll tell you whatever you need to help. That being the best news I’ve had this week and all.”

She arched a brow. “Whatever I need?”

He spread his hands. “I’m an open book, doll.”

“Chase!” a new voice scolded. The owner, a slender brunette, paused in the doorway to scowl along with her critique. “You know better than to offer open season on guild secrets like that!”

“Calm down, Ari.” Chase slouched back, waving one hand in Xaeryn’s direction. “Our guest seems a smart enough dame to not ask for more than she needs.” That glimpse of danger was back under the last word.

“I’m not after your secrets,” Xaeryn promised. “Just trying to find a missing artefact.”

“And what artefact would that be?” Ari asked, still wary, and still poised in the doorway. Xaeryn noted but didn’t comment on the jangling stack of bracelets that sheathed a good three inches of the other woman’s wrist.

“A pendent, this big.” she indicated the size. “Black stone and bronze.”

“Wasn’t us,” Chase said easily.

“You were witnessed along the transport caravan’ route.”

“Oh, we were casing it,” he acknowledged with a wink.

“Chase!”

He just grinned at Ari’s beratement. “We didn’t steal anything, though. Couldn’t get a good shot at what we were supposed to nick.”

“Supposed to?” Xaeryn interjected. “So this is something you were contracted to steal rather than...” She waffled a moment over word choice, “...personal?”

“Yeah. Like I said, though, we didn’t get anything.” Chase shrugged. “Just as well; our butter and egg man never showed his face after.”

“Hm.” Xaeryn made a mental note to look into how popular a target the caravan had become. “Did you notice anyone else who seemed to be casing it? Aside from your people?”

“N-” Chase’s brow furrowed and he stopped mid-negative reply. “There was that one mug Kato saw right before the trucks made the museum lot. Don’t have anything more than ‘foreign-looking’ and green hair, and he didn’t see where he went, just was a little too casual in his loitering, gave Kato an odd impression.”

It wasn’t a lead solid enough for her to really follow, but it did seem confirmation multiple parties were interested in the caravan. “I see. And what was your... client after?”

“That’s not something you need to know,” Ari said firmly.

“Knowing what else was and might yet be targeted will help my investigation, so I would have to disagree,” Xaeryn said just as firmly. “I’m not going to rat you out, in fact I plan to tell Mr. Syndran you were not responsible. But this information could be useful. Please.”

“A necklace. Gold, rubies, opals; sounded worth a pretty lyss,” Chase said, turning to flash a grin at Ari. “She did say please.”

Ari sighed but didn’t protest.

“Alright I’ll be getting out of your hair, then.” Xaeryn stood, smoothing her skirt. “I appreciate your talking to me, It was enlightening.”

She held out a hand to shake, and Chase kissed the back of it instead, shooting her a wink as she rolled her eyes. “Not a problem, Miss Shrike. Good luck catching your bad guys.”

Xaeryn couldn’t help a small chuckle at the comment as she withdrew her hand and headed for the door. She half-expected to be blocked from exiting, but that proved unfounded. She retraced the route to the edge of the Ashtown district, then headed for her office to call Mr. Syndran just as it started to rain.

---

Her call to update Mr. Syndran went about as well as it could; he was disappointed Thieves guild hadn’t panned out as a lead--Xaeryn detected some personal disappointment as well as professional they weren’t responsible. “Do you have anything beyond their word they didn’t do it?”

“No,” Xaeryn said, leaning forward over her desk to skim her notes as they talked. “Well... their word and a gut feeling they were being level.” Which is all I really have that you aren’t responsible. She was polite--and wise--enough to not make the comparison. “They were hardly going to let me search their warehouse.”

“So what’s your next step? There’s not long until the exhibit opens, and I dislike the number of dead ends you’ve encountered.”

“Oh, I’m not happy about them, either, believe me.” Xaeryn pursed her lips and fought to keep a sharp note out of her voice at his implied censure. “Next is talking to the curator at the Hall. They may have seen this green-haired foreigner Thieves guild mentioned, or something else suspicious that didn’t show when I scryed. Either way, I can get more information about the exhibit and the pendent’s owner.”

Mr. Syndran sighed. “I highly doubt this convenient and vague ‘foreigner’ exists as anything other than a red herring to lead you away from the Thieves guild, but your other goals are sound. Let me know what you learn, if anything.”

“Of course.” They exchanged farewells and hung up. Rain still pattered against the window, and a quiet growl from her stomach reminded Xaeryn she was overdue for lunch, so she bumped back calling the Hall in favor of a quick bite to eat.

And it was quick; she loved mysteries but hated being stymied at every turn like this case had done. She wanted a workable lead. While she agreed with Mr. Syndran the ‘foreigner’ was too vague to pursue on his own, green hair was far from common in Haven, even in the Mage community. If someone else made mention or he was spotted later, it wouldn’t be hard to connect the sightings. For now, she’d call the museum, speak to the curator. Hopefully that would get her somewhere.

The secretary who answered her call sounded both bored and frazzled, which Xaeryn found impressive. “Haven Hall of History and Culture, how may I help you?”

“My name’s Xaeryn Shrike, I wanted to speak to the curator about-”

“Ms. Acquell is very busy,” the receptionist cut her off. “We have an exhibit opening in just over a week, she doesn’t have time for meetings with random curiosity seekers or history aficionados right now.”

Xaeryn let a bit of edge color her voice. “I’m a private detective Mr. Syndran hired in regard to the artefact caravan.”

A long pause, the line crackling with silence, then, “Can you be here in half an hour? I’m sure she can clear some space in her schedule, though there may be bit of a wait.”

I thought you might say that. “I can. Thank you.”

“Very well.” The secretary hung up.

Xaeryn arched a brow at the receiver before she placed it back in the cradle. “See you shortly,” she muttered. Wonderful attitude for someone in such a socially involved position. She glanced out the window and was gratified to find the rain slacking off. She’d still drive, of course, but it would be less of a headache.

Xaeryn cleaned up from her lunch, gave her outfit a quick check to ensure it was still presentable after her visit to Ashtown and the Merchants Guild garage, and tucked her notepad back in her handbag before tugging on a hat and heading out the door.

The drive to the museum was uneventful aside from a couple pot holes and a pedestrian chasing his umbrella into the street with nary a regard for traffic. Still, Xaeryn did arrive in one piece. A determined breeze tugged at her as she made her way up the steps, and she almost dropped her handbag in her instinctive grab to hold her hat on.

It’s pinned, you silly goose, she chided herself ruefully, and brushed drizzle off her clothes as she stepped inside. She exchanged a brief conversation--light on pleasantries--with the receptionist,and was waved toward one of the long cultural wings to wait for when Curator Acquell found a moment to speak with her. She perched on a bench that sat between a statue of the first High Augar and a glass case displaying a map of the known world at the time. At this hour and with this weather, there weren’t many other people, and the gallery was mostly quiet.

Ample opportunity for Xaeryn to ruminate on the irony her chosen seat appeared to be smack in the middle of an exhibit on the Castigation, or one of the uprisings that followed. At least, if the painting across from her was anything to go by; a group of determined Norms gripping pistols as they surrounded a cluster of bloodied but unyielding Hunters whose hands glowed with grace as they clung to their weapons...

Xaeryn shook her head and very deliberately focused on reading her notes.

---

It took half an hour--closer to three-quarters--and Xaeryn had switched to roaming the gallery to take in the sights before a short, bespectacled blonde approached.

She hesitated briefly but noticeably before clearing her throat. “Are you... Miss Shrike?”

Xaeryn nodded and held out a hand to shake. “And you would be the curator?”

The blonde bobbed her head as she shook her hand. “Shery Acquell. I’m so very sorry about the wait.” She smoothed a hand down her rumpled brown and pink dress. “We’re terribly busy trying to get the new exhibit together.” She bit her lip. “Or, as together as we can get it, at least.”

“That’s actually what I’m here to talk to you about,” Xaeryn said. “But I think it’s something better discussed away from potential prying eyes and ears.”

“Oh, right, of course.” Miss Acquell briefly clasped her hands in front of her and bit her lip. “This way.” She gestured to a door. “We can speak in the Cultures of Blest wing if you don’t mind dodging crates and museum staff?”

“Not at all,” Xaeryn said as she followed the other woman through the indicated door. Getting to see behind the scenes of a museum exhibit was the opposite of an inconvenience, to her mind.

“It’s not terribly exciting, I’m afraid; lots of boxes and dust and swapping things around until you find the right arrangement. But I think we can find somewhere to talk. My office is a mess right now, or we could just go there.”

“It’s fine,” Xaeryn assured her. “A little dust won’t kill me. I dress practical for that very reason; no telling where an investigation will take me.”

“OH, that’s... smart.” Miss Acquell fiddled with her glasses and inclined her head toward an empty display pedestal. “That’s where the pendent will go, assuming it’s back before the exhibit opens.” Her face went red and she winced apologetically. “N-Not that I doubt your skill as a detective, Miss Shrike, it just seems to have vanished into thin air, and, well....” She half shrugged and let the words trail off.

“I’ve definitely hit enough dead ends for the comparison to be apt,” Xaeryn said, swallowing the spike of defensiveness to keep her tone level as she peeked at the other artefacts in the case. A belt with a snake-head buckle, a silver circlet set with a single moonstone, an ornately carved hair comb, a silver ring that resembled a basilisk eating its own tail. At least one item hummed quietly with magic of some kind, but enchantment and binding weren’t her forte, so Xaeryn couldn’t tell which. “So, to confirm, how long did the shipment sit before you and your staff started opening crates?”

“Oh, an hour?” Miss Acquell bit her lip. “Maybe two, at most? There was a... small kerfuffle in the art wing; some unruly children, and we didn’t get to the crates until that was settled. But there was a watchman outside and one in the museum, neither of them reported seeing anyone.” She played with her necklace. “As well as a Whitestone Couriers representative. Pink-haired young lady, very irate by the time I spoke to her, though that is understandable, with how long we kept her waiting.”

“Did you not have enough staff for someone to take care of the artefacts while others handled the... disturbance?”

“Normally we would have.” Miss Acquell stepped into a small alcove to move their conversation out of the way for the six or so staffers busily yet carefully removing things from crates to arrange in various displays. “But it was a lightly staffed day--Thursdays are usually slow--and I had a couple people who didn’t come in. We weren’t able to find anyone who could cover their shifts, so we were running a bit short.”

With Ms. Aerin keeping an eye on the artefacts once they reached the museum, it was no wonder Mr. Syndran was so convinced a potential theft would have occurred during transit. “What do you know about the pendent, Solimer’s torch? I’ve learn some things of its history, but what of more recent years? The last century or so?”

“A little,” Miss Acquell said, flicking a nervous glance to the side as a pair of workers fumbled the statue they were shifting. “The last century is a bit... muddy for that pendent. It’s changed hands several times, several people have made claims, few have been able to back them up. The current owner, Ms. Aescar, has the strongest claim. She can trace ancestry to the last known owner of the pendent.”

“Prior to the cheiftain of debated identity with whom it was rediscovered?”

She nodded. “Yes. The others who have tried to stake ownership claim ties to the debated chieftain, or the original tribe, or the first to conquer them, but none have ever clearly proven a connection like Ms. Aescar. And if they could, it turns into a debate predicated largely on the intricacies of right of conquest for who has the strongest claim.” She hesitated, wrung her hands. “There are some in the historical community--niche as this piece may be--who... feel it would almost be better if no further claims are validated. I-If someone can contest Ms. Aescar’s ownership, the pendent has to go in a vault until true provenance can be determined. Which means no one can display it....”

“And that process can take a very long time,” Xaeryn finished for her. It was an issue she’d run into a couple times during her years at Solhadur; an artefact she was researching was hard to get clear information about because three people had equally strong claims and it was tied up in the arbitration.

“Yes, it can.” Miss Acquell pursed her lips and looked back at the intended display. “For now, though, Ms. Aescar has a very open policy for lending it out. Far fewer requested protective measures than most. It’s as if...” she paused, brow furrowing for a moment, “as if she doesn’t really care what happens to it.”

Interesting. “Do you have her contact information? I’d like to speak with her if I could,”

“I do.” Miss Acquell nodded vigorously. “It’s in my office, so I’ll need a minute to dig it out.”

“No hurry,” Xaeryn said. “Are those watchmen here today by any chance? Accommodating as your staff has been with my other earlier inquiries, I haven’t gotten to talk to them yet.”

The curator, who had started for a nearby hall, paused and bit her lip again as she thought. “Theo is,” she finally said. “He was watching the outside lot that day. Today I think he’s in the exhibit on Norm innovation? But I can’t remember for sure. The schedule’s also in my office, I can check while I’m getting Ms. Aescar’s information.”

“Alright, I can wait.”

“Feel free to look around.” Miss Acquell waved a hand toward the progressing displays. “Just don’t touch anything? Some things would survive, but others are too fragile.”

“I generally avoid disturbing museum exhibits,” Xaeryn assured her. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

With a final nod and small nervous smile, Miss Acquell scurried off down the hall. From the way she’d talked about her office, Xaeryn gathered this might take more than a few minutes. She wandered through the half-assembled exhibits and display cases, careful to keep enough distance she didn’t disturb the staff or risk damaging anything.

A small smile curved her lips when she caught sight of a necklace--complete with matching cuff bracelets and a diadem--that fit the description of what Chase claimed his guild had been hired to steal. That backed his story up, at least. There was a placard declaring they had belonged to a Queen-Consort from Karzai once upon a time.

Xaeryn was engrossed in reading a Kettish tablet when Miss Acquell returned, and it took a moment to register her presence. In fact, it wasn’t until the curator cleared her throat timidly that Xaeryn’s focus was broken and she swung around.

“Sorry. This sort of thing is a passion of mine,” she explained. “Very easy to slip off to my own little world when I get a chance to indulge.”

“I understand,” Miss Acquell said with a faint smile. “I can be the same, when I get lost in my work. Here’s Ms. Aescar’s information” --she held out a small piece of note paper--”though I should warn you it’s for her estate out near the Jalis desert and she’s apparently not home much? Bit of an adventuress, away for weeks at a time without word of how long she’ll be gone. I’m honestly not sure if we’ve managed to contact her yet to tell her the pendent’s missing.”

“Thanks for the warning, both of them.” Xaeryn slipped the paper in her handbag after checking the legibility. “I’ll keep them in mind.”

“Theo is up in the innovations exhibit, if you want to speak with him.”

“Oh, I very much do. And if something comes up and I need to talk to you again, do you have daily office hours?”

Miss Acquell nodded, then blushed. “Oh, except... except Sunday,” she amended. “I-I have church.”

“Won’t be a problem, so do I.” Normally not a detail Xaeryn shared with strangers, but the woman seemed braced for blowback to the statement.

Her face lit up with the revelation, so it was apparently a good call. “Oh, really? Where do you go?”

“The Whitestone Cathedral,” Xaeryn said. She liked the crowds, the ability to simply sit in the back, worship, and slip out before too many people even noticed she was there and tried to be chummy.

“Oh, that one’s too big for me,” Miss Acquell blurted with a bashful laugh. “I go to the chapel over by the docks.”

“I know it,” Xaeryn said with a nod. She’d had a couple cases over that way. “Thank you very much for all your help, Miss Acquell. This visit has been very informative.”

“I’m glad to have been of help, and you can just call me Shery.” She held out a hand to shake farewell.

“Goodbye, then, Shery. And good luck setting up your exhibit.” Xaeryn shook her hand then headed off following signage toward the exhibit where this guard Theo was posted. She had some rather burning questions to ask him.

---

Her conversation with Theo held mixed success. His memory was fuzzy, which Xaeryn had expected after the time that had passed. He did remember some loiterers, but they were all far enough away from the lot he couldn’t discern features. One or two may have come across as “too casual” with hindsight, but he hadn’t clocked them as suspicious and thus hadn’t paid much mind in the moment. No accounting for street hooligans and how they spent their time, right? One might have had green hair, but they were wearing hats, and “like I said, I wasn’t payin’ much heed, Miss Lady Detective,” so he couldn’t swear by it.

With that tenuous connection possibly made slightly less tenuous, and a much-increased desire to speak with the elusive Ms. Aescar, Xaeryn wandered the museum a bit--might as well; she was here and it would help her think--before heading back out to her car.

“Ladies first,” a dark haired gentleman said, holding the front door open for her and allowing her to precede him down the steps.

Xaeryn nodded and flashed a brief smile of courteous thanks for his chivalry, noting he headed for a gleaming, high-end motorcar, black with red accents, that made hers look dingy. Bet it’s a nightmare to keep that fancy, she thought, paying the man no further mind. She started her car and flicked on the headlights to counter the settling dim of evening as she pulled away.

With her thoughts split between the road and mulling over the case, it took a few turns for her to notice a pair of headlights that appeared to be following the same route she was. That wasn’t terribly unusual, but the fact they were deliberately keeping back was. Tricky as surreptitious glances in a motorcar could be, Xaeryn managed one the next time she had to stop for traffic. Just as her... friend passed under a streetlight.

Black car, with red accents.

Gooseflesh prickled up her arms, and she shifted her planned route home to one with sparse enough traffic covert pursuit would be impossible. Two turns into the new path, her tail must have picked up on her plan and lammed off down a side street. Xaeryn wondered if he thought he was being subtle, and kept a careful eye out the rest of the way back. Despite not seeing any further tails, she remained on guard until she turned the key in her office door, slipped in, and locked it behind her.

“Intriguing development,” she murmured to the empty room as she unpinned her hat. And an interesting end to a very full day. Xaeryn sat wearily at her desk and kicked off her shoes. Even choosing comfort over style, her feet were sore from all the walking. Merchants’ Guild, Ashtown, the Hall... and barely a chance to sit all day. She returned her notepad to the desk drawer and locked it again, but left the stiletto blade in her handbag. She’d likely need it tomorrow anyway. Particularly if it was anywhere near as busy as today.

Busy enough to have missed any telephone calls that came while I was gadding about. Normally while already on a case, that would bother her less, but Red had said he’d call if he learned anything new. She’d hate to be missing information that could help the case, she mused, flicking a glance from the telephone to the clock on her wall. Hopefully this wasn’t too late for her to call him. She dug her notepad back out and flipped through the pages until she reached the section in Red’s sprawling shorthand. There, on the back of a previous page, tucked in the corner like a random doodle, was his office telephone number. Xaeryn smiled at the close resemblance of his eights and zeroes, but knew her own ones and sevens weren’t much better.

After only a brief moment of further hesitation, she pulled the telephone closer and started dialing. It wasn’t that late.

It was answered on the third ring, a slightly breathless, “Hello?”

“Liefred?”

“Xaeryn.” There was a note of surprise in his voice.

“Got it in one, smart man.” But I knew that.

He laughed. “Not that hard; you’re just about the only one who insists on calling me that, even if you don’t need to.” There was a small creak that conjured mental images of him leaning against the desk or slouched in his chair. “Everything alright? Did you need something?”

“Other way ‘round, actually.” Xaeryn fiddled with her notepad. “I’ve had a busy day and it occurred I wasn’t here much if you’d called, so I thought I’d check.”

“There are these people called secretaries, Xaeryn,” Red teased. “You might look into hiring one of them.”

“I know, I know.” She snorted softly. “Especially since most people don’t have your genial reaction to me missing their calls...”

“Most people haven’t known you since you were a gangly fourteen year old trying to cram yourself in the library loft to read in peace, either,” he said warmly. “I know how focused you get. And nothing new, I’m afraid. I got stuck lecturing first-years all day.”

“And you survived,” Xaeryn laughed, curling her toes in and out when they started to cramp.

“Barely,” Red said with a rueful laugh(she’d bet he was running a hand through his hair). “And that despite their best efforts.”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to stick around,” she said, only half-joking.

“Smart woman,” he deadpanned. “But I knew that already.”

Flatterer. It sounded coy and thus stayed in her head, replaced with an equally joking, “I won’t guest lecture, before you ask.”

“Damn,” he said lightly, “At any rate, I’m sorry I don’t have more yet-”

“Don’t apologize,” she cut him off. “I wasn’t expecting anything. Only checking. Just in case. Your responsibilities come first and they kept you busy today. I had plenty of other leads to chase today.”

“Where did they take you?” Red asked. “You mentioned being busy...”

“Merchants’ Guild to start. Then Ashtown-”

“Xaeryn.” His voice was already bristling worry.

“--to talk to Thieves’ guild.”

“Alone?! Ryn-” Red huffed a sigh of exasperated, retroactive concern and she bit back a laugh at how well she’d pegged his reaction. “Do you... take risks like that often?”

“Only when I need to,” she said carefully. Wouldn’t be mentioning the tail on her way home, then. “I know how to handle myself, Liefred. I was polite, we talked, I left. It was fine.”

A long moment of silence. “If you say so.” He didn’t sound completely convinced. (She decided not to tell him her office-apartment sat right by the boundary between Astown and Smoketown) “What else?”

“Just the Hall of History and Culture to speak with the curator.” She shifted in her chair. “That one took a while, but I got some good information to follow up tomorrow.”

“Best of luck with that, and... be careful?”

Xaeryn smiled fondly, unsure whether or not to hope it carried into her voice. “As I can be.” A beat, then she added lightly, “I’d hate to wind up a cautionary tale in one of your lectures, Headmaster.”

“Xaeryn.” She could practically see him trying to glower at her(and failing; Red couldn’t be that mean) through the telephone. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” And I appreciate it. She sobered her tone to match his. “But my line of work comes with risks sometimes.The best I can do is promise not to exacerbate them.”

“I’ll take it,” Red said softly, then was quiet a long moment. “I should let you go; it sounds like you have another busy day tomorrow?”

“I do.” She’d still stay up til midnight talking to him in a heartbeat, but, “and you probably need to recover from this one.”

“Mm. I get to do it again tomorrow, too,” he said glibly.

Xaeryn laughed. “I’ll keep you in my thoughts,” she said with mock solemnity “Good luck to you, as well, in that case.”

“Thank you, I’ll need it,” Red chuckled softly. “Goodnight, Xaeryn.”

“Goodnight, Liefred.”

She stared at the telephone a long moment after hanging up, smile curling her lips, before pushing out of the chair. After a day like this, she needed dinner, a hot bath, and a good night’s sleep. In that order.

She still double checked the door was locked before turning in.

----

(what you don’t see, bc I stuck with Ryn POV, is Pan was in Red’s office with him when she called. :3 Cue Pan promptly batting his eyelashes, making exaggerated lovestruck faces, and generally being a little shit bc He Knows, while Red’s gesturing for Pan to GET OUT of his office. and trying to get him to listen without actually talking so Ryn doesn’t know someone’s there(he doesn’t know why he doesn’t want her knowing that, he just doesn’t). Pan finally relents but hangs in the hallway til they’re done and comes back in with the biggest shit-eating grin “You’re still stuck on her, aren’t you?” Red, groaning and burying his face in his hands: “Pan, close your head, PLEASE. yes”)

#queens fic #shoh #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #chase trinaeste #shery acquell #tlbt #ryn/red

24 notes · View notes

million-gil-messiah · 3 years ago

Text

🆂🅲🅰🅿🅴🅶🅾🅰🆃

"SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!!"

Leviticus hardly flinched as a set of papers fluttered and twirled by his face in contest with the air, and the force of which they'd been thrown from the ruddy hands of his associate. Across the desk from the Garlean businessman was a much smaller, much angrier Lalafellin merchant. Another one of many who had sought him out amidst a fresh wave of thefts and highway robbery.

“My goods aren’t coming, I’m assuming is what you’re about to tell me.” the entrepreneur assumes, just as the cascading complaints come tumbling from the tiny merchant’s mouth. He didn’t look surprised, but then again it was hard to be when he had orchestrated the robbery to begin with. One investment, sacrificed for another.

"This is the THIRD shipment this fucking -moon-. One MOON and I've lost /thousands/ in goods, and gods damned travel costs. Hundreds of thousands, thanks to these fucking PEASANTS--” blah, blah, blah...Leviticus could barely keep the boredom from sliding across his own angular features but did his best in providing the occasional placating nod as the merchant continued to rant and rave.

“Do you have any idea what went wrong?”

The merchant seemed to grow nervous, explaining the situation to his client. “I...don’t. Not entirely. Got the letter this morning in place of the shipment that was supposed to come in. There was a note found at the scene. That fucking HIGHWAYMAN is still out roaming the fucking roads, and the Blades can’t do their bleedin’ jobs.”

“Ah, yes. The one in the papers and on the bounty boards. So that’s what went wrong. The notorious ‘Outlaw’. ” He leads the angry merchant to a conclusion like a snake leading Eve to the apple. Yet with all this conversation about Levi’s presumed lost goods, not once did the grubby little merchant apologize for the inconvenience. It was bad business...never mind the fact that Leviticus had all the stolen supplies sent to a storage. It was just the principle of things.

“Fucking apparently. Couple that with the Blades being short-staffed with the war, I might as well sell my fucking business and cut what profits I can.”

Levi’s head lifted as the first thing of interest all morning captured his attention. “They claim staffing issues with the war and the push to get refugees up north, I hear. I hadn’t thought it was this bad though.” he feigns a moment of thought, and then motions. “You know, I’ve got a meeting with one of the Gerbera Captains today. I’ve a licensing issue to resolve, and while I’m there I'll mention what you’ve said to the Blades and see if I can’t get something done for you.”

The shortstack merchant’s eyes widened with surprise at the other man’s graciousness, and then he growled and threw a hand up. “Good fuckin’ luck. I’ve sent a number of letters -- all of which have been ignored. But if you get a good word in for me, I’d appreciate that.”

Levi stood, buttoning up his ash colored jacket to reclaim his manicured appearance. “We’ll see what I can do."

🅴🅻🆂🅴🆆🅷🅴🆁🅴...

A man of more significant stature was forced to endure a similar ‘discussion’, if it could truly be called that. It was more so a disciplinary monologue from his higher-ups containing a slew of curses and frustrations passed on to him from the spineless merchants who demanded he spread himself and his men so thin that their presence was hardly a deterrence where ever they stood.

The attacks had increased. Chaos unfolded itself on the daily. He would have assumed that the new treaties with the heathen beast tribes would aid in lessening his work load. He recalled that when that damnable tower had first risen, attacks seemed to increase tenfold and the foes were all the more formidable for their twisted faiths. Each caravan that failed to arrive would later be found by patrols, its cargo abandoned and its people...nowhere to be found.

There had been a brief peace after the tower had fallen, yet as more of his men and women were called to the northern front, the ability to protect more local assets had diminished considerably. With the Amal’jaa acting now as allies, there was less of a deterrence on the roads, and the lack of a Brass Blade presence had encouraged the less civilized. Supplies had grown scarce as overseas trade diminished, leaving provisions to the highest bidder or to the bandits who took liberties to patrol the roads in search of a quick haul. Odh was tired...so very, very tired.

The pearl call ended with a venomous “Get it fixed, Odh, or else.” from his superior officer, and he knew that meant they’d be looking to transfer him somewhere his failures couldn’t reach them. Somewhere like...Lost Hope, a place he’d joked once where careers went to die. It did not seem so funny now.

If he was being completely honest, an early retirement would likely suit him, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to do so in shame and his superiors were unlikely to allow him any kind of peaceful retreat now. He continued to look over a note that said “Courtesy of The Outlaw”, frowning deeply at the bit of evidence collected from the most recent scene. Of course, it would be him. That fucking c---

Knock-Knock!

Startled, his attention swept up towards the door, swiftly divided from his thoughts by the rapping upon it. Briefly, his umber gaze fell upon his calendar to confirm that he had no meetings or plans for the day, only to see that he’d missed a note written some time ago. Odh pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to collect himself and set the note aside. “...Come in, and state your business.” he declared in a charcoal rumble, eyes narrowing upon the entryway to his office.

The heavy wooden door is pushed open smoothly as a tall and slender man in a white hat and an ash gray suit stepped in. He had angular features and a smile that was far too charming to trust. He extended a hand immediately, striding right up to Odh’s desk with a confidence he also did not like.

Odh deferred to his personal notation, narrowing his gaze before he stood and shook the other man’s hand in a tight grip. “Mister Maximian, was it?” he asks, quickly releasing the other so that he could take a seat again and then he motioned for Leviticus to do the same.

“Please, call me Levi.” The other man sits down and removes his white hat as he does so, setting it down on his lap. As he does so, the captain can’t help but set his sights between the eyes of this other man, where a gemlike protrusion was formed upon his brow.

“A Garlean.” he states with narrowed eyes.

“Born and raised.” Levi continues to grin, and Odh continues to hate it.

Though his lip curls, eventually, Odh sighs. “Right then. Levi. Not to be rude, but I’m a busy man and I’ve things to take care of. What is your business with me?”

“Well. I suppose my business here is the same business you have plaguing every turn of your career.” Leviticus removes a Wanted poster that any Blade might recognize, but the Captain would know it best. “And he goes by the name of Roman Lawrence Wyld.”

🆃🅾 🅱🅴 🅲🅾🅽🆃🅸🅽🆄🅴🅳...

#stories #paint it black

5 notes · View notes

rachelbethhines · 4 years ago

Text

Tangled Salt Marathon - The Eye of Pincosta

So this is an episode that really didn’t need to exist, and I say that as a Styalan defender. The writers took a perfect opportunity have the characters actually learn and grown and bypass it all for a contrived performative fake out redemption.

Summary: The group arrive in the town of Pincosta, but Eugene is immediately thrown in jail for having previously stolen the town's largest diamond, the Eye of Pincosta. The sheriff declares Eugene to work in the deadly copper mines and soon the rest of the group are thrown in jail. Rapunzel negotiates with the sheriff, offering to find and retrieve the Eye of Pincosta in exchange for Eugene and the group's release. The sheriff agrees, but on the condition that Rapunzel returns in two days. Rapunzel confronts Eugene about the theft and reluctantly, Eugene reveals he previously worked together with Stalyan, forcing Rapunzel to seek out Stalyan and persuades her to help.

So Why Didn’t Eugene Just Stay Behind With the Caravan?

Like it doesn’t take all six of you to buy and carry food back to the caravan; which they don’t take into the town anyways. Especially when you have two horses you can use. So why bring Eugene along when you know he could be arrested?

Pointing Out the Flaw In Your Writing Doesn’t Make It Any Less of a Flaw

No seriously, why didn’t he stay with the caravan? You need someone to watch over your stuff anyways if your going to leave it behind and Eugene is the perfect candidate for that. And even if you did need everyone to stick together, which you don’t, then bring the camper with you and let Eugene ride inside of it unseen. It’s not like the towns roads are too small for it or anything and it’ll save you from having to carry your stuff.

If you have to turn your characters into sudden idiots for no discernible reason to make your plot happen then you haven’t a good plot. Start over and come up with something else. Like maybe have Eugene not realize that he is wanted here because it was so long ago or have the guards randomly check their caravan where he’s hiding out because Styalan’s back into town, or something. Anything so long as it doesn’t make the mains stupid.

You’re Literally The Princess of Powerful Kingdom; Use That!

Ok, from what background info we get here, Pincosta isn’t even a fully fledged kingdom. It’s a hamlet, which is smaller than even a village. We get no indication what ‘land’ it belongs to, but it shares a kingdom with the larger town of Zulberg, which is one of the running gags in the first half of the episode.

What all this means is that Rapunzel is still the most powerful person in the room. She’s the heir apparent to the throne of a prosperous kingdom that has ties with a large trading network with bunch of other power kingdoms. Locking up her boyfriend and the future prince consort of said kingdom can be perceived as an act of war.

The series is trying to lead into Rapunzel becoming queen, but that means she needs to take advantage of her position and perform queenly like tasks. Like negotiating international incidents like this one, and simply complying to the city’s laws as if she was some random traveler doesn’t cut it.

Oh, So Now You Care!

Rapunzel, where the fuck do you think that prison barge was heading to just two episodes back? The same prison barge that your friend Attila was being threatened with. The same prison barge that victims of Corona’s corrupt justice system, like say Varian, are threatened with on top of the inhumane conditions of those dungeon cells that you locked your two best friends in back in season one.

Do not tell me Rapunzel is some kind and caring person if she only gives a damn about unjust treatment when it only affects her or someone she already cares about.

This Is Stealing Agency Away From Eugene

Rapunzel is not the one responsible for Eugene’s mistakes. She can help to some degree, like using her political power to pull some strings, but she doesn’t need to be the one to make reparations for his actions; that’s on him.

Or rather it should be on him. This should be his episode. The one where he grows as a person as he makes up for past deeds. Because redemption isn’t just about never doing bad things again, it’s also about making amends for what you did wrong.

That’s where this series fails and why the whole ‘It’s Rapunzel’s Story’ mantra is hollow. For starters it’s not just Rapunzel’s story. The series isn’t structured to be that way because it’s based off of a movie with two protagonists. It’s Eugene’s story as well. It’s also Cassandra’s and Varian’s story because as the main antagonists they further the conflict.

But it also fails because Rapunzel is just thrown into other people’s stories instead of being given her own. Rapunzel never learns anything from this adventure. Stalyan does, and Stalyan is never seen again after this episode. Having Rapunzel teach other random people lessons is counterintuitive to what the series wants to be. If it’s meant to be a coming of age story where Rapunzel learns about the real world, then she can’t be automatically in the right every episode.

Well Ain’t That Convenient

So Stalyan is needed to find this diamond that she and Eugene stole in order to free Eugene. Yet it’s never stated how Rapunzel finds Stalyan, especially so quickly. Last we saw her she had just left Varados and that was months ago. She could have been anywhere by this time.

So why is she near the same town where she’d still be wanted for arrest at? Where’s a her dad, who was dying from poison when we last saw him? What has she been up to? How did Rapunzel even know she was here?

Like you need to establish crap like this, otherwise it’s just a major plot hole.

So Why Stalyan?

This episode could have gone to just about anybody. Eugene, Lance, Lady Caine, fucking Shorty... Like I’d even take Hookfoot over this. He’s at least there for more than two episodes.

So why Stalyan? Why does she get a focus episode when we’ll never see her again? How come she’s ‘redeemed’ but not any of the other criminals on the prison barge? Like the series wants to act as if Rapunzel is this really forgiving person who believes in second chances but only four villains out of twenty get redemptions. 4 out of 20! What makes Stalyan so special that she gets to be one of those few select four and not say Lady Caine, Dwayne, or Andrew and the Saporians?

This Should Have Been a Lance and Rapunzel Team Up Instead

Keep in mind when I say this episode could have focused on anybody, I do mean it. You get creative enough this initial setup could have featured any two characters you wanted interacting. Lance and Eugene, Eugene and Rapunzel, Eugene and Stalyan, Eugene and Cassandra, Lance and Cassandra or maybe even Caine and Rapunzel, and reveal how Eugene knew Caine back in the pilot episode. Like there’s a lot of possibilities here.

For my money though, this should have been a Lance and Rapunzel episode. Because we don’t get any Lance and Rapunzel episodes. We don't even get any Lance episodes after his introduction. All his development, what little there is, is shoved into the b-plot of other characters’ focus episodes. He also barely interacts with the series main character despite being her boyfriend’s BFF and living with her on the road for year. That’s ridiculous.

All you needed to do was make Lance Eugene’s partner and have Lance make up for his past deeds to try and free his friends. Boom!

Why Didn’t You Bring Anything With You Raps?

We see at the end that the caravan was parked outside of town this whole time. She still has the key to get out any money that she needed, the pick of two horses that can’t fit inside of a cell anyways, and oh yeah probably a canteen to use.

Furthermore, she’s a fucking princess!!! She’s has credit and clout and can just get whatever she damn near wants just by asking; because she’s not your average person on the street like us.

I’m not going to feel sorry for the main protagonist when the main protagonist is an idiot who does these things to herself and makes life harder for everyone needlessly.

Rapunzel Has a Stunted Grasp of Ethics

Stalyan’s not wrong here. Unless you have an alternative, like your own horse or money to buy horses, that you decided to leave behind as well for some undefined reason, then yeah, you needed horses. Your friends lives are at stake woman!

I touched on this back in my TAR review, but the show leans heavily into authoritarian beliefs because it provides childish lessons for adult situations.

‘Stealing is always wrong no matter what’ is the thought process of a child. It does not take into account how systems of governments can stack the deck against certain groups of people, nor how sometimes emergencies come up and you got to deal them in the moment and make amends later.

And you know what, I’m not taking ‘it’s a show for kids’ as an excuse here. Children shows very much can introduce comlex themes and grey morals and plenty already have. If you make classism a major theme of your story then you need to actually address it, and that starts by having your main character acknowledge it.

This could have been the perfect opportunity for Rapunzel to grow. Up till now she’s always had her physical needs provided for her. Since her escape from the tower she’s also been thoroughly spoiled. Have her come down off her high horse and see how the other half lives. See first hand what Eugene and the pub thugs had to do to survive before they met her.

Have her things actually be confiscated. Have her princess title mean nothing cause no one knows her or believes her. Have Corona not recognized in this part of the world. You want to be the underdog then make her an actual underdog and have her learn from it.

Because Rapunzel having the moral outlook of child makes sense given her backstory, but she can’t stay that way. We all have to grow up sometime, we all have to learn the harsher truths of this world, and this is suppose to be a coming of age story.

So How Does Stalyan Know Where the Eye Is But Not Eugene?

If Eugene is the one who lost it, then how come he didn’t know where it was at? Why couldn’t he just have told Rapunzel all of this and left Staylan out of the picture? Also how do you know if Goodberry even still has it if it’s been years ago? How do you know where Goodberry is? It’s awfully convenient that he never moved in all that time and that he’s so close to the town of Pincosta.

Once again, plot holes.

Stalyan is a Poor Man’s Sadira

So for those of you who aren’t 90s kids like myself, Sadira is a villian from the Aladdin tv series. She’s basically Stalyan but done better.

Things they have in common

their goals are to marry the main hero, who are ex-thieves

both are jealous of the main heroines who are princesses

both are thieves themselves and have lived their whole lives as such

both believe they belong with the hero because they come from a common background

both resort to dubious means to win the heart of the hero

both try to get rid of the heroines but never resort to killing them out right

both are redeemed and eventually befriends the princesses

You know what the difference between the two of them is?

Sadira is actions are actually worse than Staylan’s but she’s given enough screen time and focus to come across as sympathetic to the audience.

I’m serious. Stalyan is an ex who was left at the altar by her douchey boyfriend, but their relationship was so toxic that she can’t understand that she’s actually better off without him nor accept that he left her for someone else. So she tries manipulating him into coming back to her, while her dad does some messed up blackmail and poisoning that she didn’t agree to but went along with anyways.

Meanwhile Sadria is a straight up stalker. She doesn’t even meet Aladdin until after the events of the first film, and he makes it clear to her from the get go that he’s in a committed relationship with someone else and isn’t interested in her. But Sadria tries episode after episode to ‘win’ him resorting to mindwipes, kidnapping, and even alternating reality.

But we actually see things from Sadria’s perspective. It’s made clear that she has no one and nothing. Aladdin is the first person to show her kindness and so she latches onto him. Sure it’s unhealthy and the series calls it out as such, but by the time she has acknowledged this and befriends Jasmine the audience now understands her and feels sympathy for her.

We get no such focus for Stalyan. Not even in her redemption episode. We still don't know why she wants to be with Eugene after he’s treated her so badly. We still don't have any clue what their relationship was like before the breakup, or even when the breakup happened. (I still think it was during the events of the movie and that he left her for Rapunzel, but it’s left open) It’s hard to relate to or feel sorry for Stakyan when we know nothing about her and haven’t seen this ‘good side’ Rapunzel keeps talking about for ourselves.

Even though theoretically she should be very sympathetic because of the way Eugene treated her, and because her actions thus far are relatively tame compared to most of the villains in the show.

Just Because Other Places in the World Are As Bad as Corona, Doesn’t Mean That Frederic Is Excused For His Behavior

This show thinks it’s a okay to introduce horrible crap so long as it’s done in a comedic way and not focused on, but this isn’t The Office. You can’t use a corrupt legal system and authoritarians abusing their power as the crux of your main conflict in season one and then expect us to just laugh off jokes like this one. Or the one about tailor getting locked up for ripping Frederic’s robe. Or find young Lance trapped in a cell with Shorty being fed gruel as funny.

Like, even if you do laugh at these jokes at first in the moment, once you stop to think about them, it just shows how awful Frederic and Rapunzel are, how awful the system is, and that change needs to happen. But it can’t happen if Rapunzel and the show doesn’t acknowledge that such things are wrong. That they are more than jokes.

The serious story that the writers want to tell is undermined by the comedy, and the comedic moments are undermined by the existence of the more serious drama.

So is this a sitcom or a drama? It can’t be both, not when dealing with such high stakes.

Sitcoms work because they’re low stakes. Few characters are affected and most situations aren’t life and death. Even in dark comedies where death is often the joke, it’s because death is seen as unimportant, something to be casted aside, and it’s funny because it’s disrespectful. But the moment you call to attention just how messed up everything really is, and how awful death can be, then it’s suddenly no longer funny. Especially if it’s innocents who are getting hurt. Dark comedies also work because it’s often computuance for characters who are awful people.

That’s not what TTS is, so it’s attempts at being like It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia or Rick and Morty just doesn’t work and comes across as tone deaf.

Also why are the dang horses in the cell with the humans? They’re horses!

So What Exactly Is Stalyan’s Plan Here?

No seriously, what is her thought processes here? The audience isn’t mind readers. We need know why the characters do the things they do.

Why is Stalyan still hung up on Eugene? Why does Stalyan think he’ll take her back if she shows up to free him without Rapunzel? What is she going to say when he asks about Raps and why would he even believe her to begin with?

What does ‘A thief belongs with a thief’ even mean!!? We have no context for this cause we have no context for their relationship!

This episode could have provided us with some context, some cule of why Stalyan and Eugene were together for so long, why they broke up, why she still wants to be with him, why she thinks he’ll return to her even now, but nope! We gotta have a stupid parody wrestling match.

Oh joy.

This Is a Guilt Trip, Not a Redemption

Rapunzel is full of shit.

If she honestly believed that there was ‘good in everybody’ then why did she send Caine off on the prison barge without even trying to relate to her? Why didn’t she try to befriend Weasel instead of fighting him off? Why is Varian currently sitting in a jail cell right now!!!

Here’s why Stalyan was ‘redeemed’ and not the others.

Rapunzel needed something from her.

Rapunzel guilt trips, manipulates, and coerces Stalyan into helping her. She doesn’t actually give a damn about whether or not Stalyan ‘does the right thing’ so long as she gets what she wants; Eugene’s freedom and his heart.

Sure Stalyan probably should turn away from her life of crime. She should let go of her obsession with Eugene. She should return the eye that she stole and start making up for her past. But you know what?

None of those things have anything to do with Rapunzel!

Stalyan needs to come to those decisions herself in order for this to be a proper redemption. If Rapunzel is involved in any of that then it can’t be with the condition that she’s gaining something from it. It’s not true compassion if you have an ulterior motive for what you do.

This Confession Might Actually Have Meant Something If We Had Any Actual Context!

This doesn’t tell me anything.

Why would Stalyan only see ‘a thief’? She loved him enough to want to marry him and has known him for years. Sure she may have accepted that he was a thief, encouraged it even, but there’s got to be other reasons why she dated him. Other reasons for why she wanted him back.

Also why does this come back to Rapunzel specifically? Is she the reason why he left Staylan at the altar? And even so, why is that a reason to give Eugene a free pass? Is it just because she’s the protag and now they’re friends suddenly?

In fact if you are friends now, then Rapunzel deserves to know the truth of who she plans on marrying and come to the decision if he’s worth it. If he really has changed, not just in terms of being an ex-thief but also in how he handles relationships.

We the audience deserve to know too.

Redemption Shouldn’t be Tied to Friendship With Rapunzel

Eugene becoming inspired to be a better person because he fell in love with someone is one thing. Rapunzel only forgiving people because they’ll befriend her is entirely another. Especially when two of the main villains become villains after they stop being friends with her.

It sends out a really gross message of favoritism and not letting go of toxic relationships, while also placing Rapunzel too high upon a pedestal.

Rapunzel Can’t Forgive Stalyan In Eugene’s Place

I’d be pretty upset if my current spouse just said that my abusive ex ‘was not that bad’.

Like, fuck both of you.

And yes, I did defend Stalyan in Beyond the Corona Walls, and I did say that we didn’t have enough context to claim she was abusive when they were in a relationship. After the breakup tho? Yeah, yeah she was abusive then. You don't have to be in a relationship in order to bully someone; you just have to have power over them.

Stalyan hurt Eugene, not Rapunzel. That’s why any redemption with her needed to be with him. They both needed to make amends, forgive each other, and move on.

This isn’t Rapunzel’s show.

If the creator wanted it to be her show then he shouldn’t have introduced conflicts that don’t actually involve her, nor characters with higher stakes then her.

This Doesn’t Feel Earned, and So the Audience Feels Cheated

And so Stalyan rides off into the sunset rich to live happily ever after presumably as a thief still, and no one gave a shit.

No one was asking for this. No one cared about Stalyan. Worse the writer failed to make us care. Ergo this whole episode feels like a waste and it is.

Conclusion

Much like the rest of season two this is pure filler, and not even good fun filler; like with the mermaid episode or the pirate episode. Worse it’s very existence actually diminishes Rapunzel as a character rather than build her up. So it fails in its sole purpose as a story.

#tangled #anti-tangled #anti-rapunzel #stalyan #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure

61 notes · View notes

bestworstcase · 5 years ago

Note

What would you have thought if Madam Canardist was designed and characterized without the racially negative stereotypes against the Romani people and voiced without an accent?

she’d be a completely different character in that case.

her basic role in the story, as a character accompanied by a disguised/shapeshifted demanitus, who ends up facilitating the important exposition in lost and found, is completely fine on its own. so, i wouldn’t have a problem with a different, hypothetical non-racist character filling that role

in the context of... sticking with canon and the episodic cartoon format and trying not to deviate too much from the canon plot, here’s how i’d design that character:

1. obviously just... completely scrap her canon visual design. i think she should still be a woman of color, because there aren’t enough women of color in tangled. actually you know what this is all hypothetical so let’s get real self indulgent with it and say she’s voiced by and modeled after ciara renée, Because Reasons.

2. she’s still named canardist, but to lean more into the pun, demanitus’s shapeshifted form is a duck, not a monkey. [in english, a “canard” is an unfounded rumor, story, or hoax, and in french, a “canard” is a duck. :P]

3. she’s a village bard and team corona first encounters her in her hometown of fortuna. rapunzel and eugene are on a date, rapunzel sees this woman chilling with her lute and her slightly deranged looking duck by a fountain or something and is like !!!, and canardist not-very-begrudgingly agrees to perform, like, the epic ballad she’s composed about the town’s history.

4. it turns out that the history of fortuna’s founding is absolutely fucking bizarre, like this town is a total weirdness magnet and all kinds of utterly bonkers stuff has happened and when canardist finishes the tale eugene is like hahaha, yeah right. canardist, put out by his skepticism, is like “look my duck is psychic fortuna is just Like This okay” and eugene loses it.

5. rapunzel is intrigued by the psychic duck and wants to pay for a fortune, but canardist is like no way, your boyfriend is a jerk, get lost, so they go. they stop in the market to pick up supplies on their way back to the caravan, discuss eugene’s cynicism, hear some rumors about the thieves who’ve been terrorizing the town lately. rapunzel persuades eugene that they should loop past the fountain again and apologize to canardist for him, you know, laughing in her face and insulting her pet, and when they get there the duck is gone and she’s distraught because two kids grabbed him and ran off. cue the rest of the canon plot of vigor the visionary, with the girls and everything. except vigor is a duck.

6. in the end, they bring vigor the duck back to canardist, and to thank them, she offers rapunzel one of vigor’s fortunes. it’s vague and confusing and won’t come into play until, let’s say happiness is—when we (and rapunzel) realize that it was warning her not to fall for the illusory happiness offered by the lorb idol. eugene is still skeptical, insisting that the “fortune” was vague and it only lined up with the events on the island by coincidence.

7. now—fundamentally, bards were chroniclers. they recorded history. and canardist, being a rather good bard, figured out pretty quickly just who rapunzel is and, after team corona left fortuna, decided “you know what? that’s history in the making. i’m going to follow them and write down what happens.”

8. so she hops a ferry across the sea and waits for them on the other side. rather than the whole lombard’s pass / telescope theft / nonsense with the curse, the episode after peril on the high seas is shenanigans with canardist being all, “i want to join your group and chronicle you” while team corona is like um. there’s a b plot with vigor the duck kind of terrorizing eugene/following eugene around and refusing to be shooed away; the a plot maybe has to do with a clash between canardist, who’s accustomed to nobility paying her for the privilege of having her chronicle their lives, and rapunzel, who has Uncomfortable Feelings about being important enough for a professional bard to be wanting to travel with her and write about it; maybe they still have to cross lombard’s pass, canardist helps (she’s a bard, she’s well traveled, she probably knows a trick or two), and at the end of the episode it’s like—okay, rapunzel’s not comfortable traveling with what’s essentially a biographer, but she and canardist come to some sort of agreement to go their separate ways but with the understanding that canardist is going to trail after them and interview people about what they did and at some point, when she’s ready, rapunzel’s going to give her side of the story.

9. canardist gets tied back into the narrative in brothers hook. this time it’s not because she’s following them, but because hook hand’s a friend of hers and she, completely independently of team corona, decided to show up and support him at his big gig for king trevor. it’s a much more amiable meeting and, after hook foot leaves, rapunzel decides to invite canardist along. because she’s doubling down on her decisions in the great tree, she feels more secure than she did the last time they met and letting canardist chronicle their journey no longer seems as scary. so canardist takes hook foot’s place in the party.

10. her presence then becomes yet another thing putting pressure on cass, because the thing is... it’s clear that cass is just a footnote in the story canardist is chronicling. she’s not important, in the context of the history they are making. rapunzel is. cass is on track to end up as rapunzel’s nameless bodyguard in this ballad canardist is writing and she tries not to let that bother her but it really really does.

11. i think it’s sort of funny if canardist gets just, completely skipped over by all the whacky evil shenanigans in the shell house. because tromus recognizes that vigor the duck is demanitus and he’s like okay, that’s a grenade i’m not going to touch with a ten foot pole, and zhan tiri is like yeah good call, so canardist ends up just like, sipping tea and casually strumming her lute and making small talk with tromus while the rest of team corona gets terrorized by mirror demons and time-twisting tops and lotus dreams.

12. so lost and found. there’s some tension in the group because canardist wasn’t harmed by anything in the shell house and that has eugene feeling just a mite suspicious, and maybe cass is backing him up too to distract attention away from what she went through and her “do i take the moonstone or not” dilemma; and partly to smooth it over canardist is like look, rapunzel, eugene, take vigor, he has something he wants to show you.

13. by this point everyone is sort of used to canardist talking about vigor like this even though he is, to all appearances, a slightly deranged duck, and rapunzel is insistent that canardist is completely trustworthy so she’s like okay!! sounds great!! and drags eugene along. the maze stuff happens. vigor reveals himself to be demanitus. it’s basically canon except he’s, you know, a duck. also it just occurred to me that i never specified what kind of duck i’m imagining when i say duck so i feel the need to do that now:

one of these guys, but like, a little bedraggled and crazed-looking. it’s the red eyes that really sells it.

14. anyway vigor also reveals that, yes, canardist knew he was demanitus the whole time; turns out she comes from a long, long line of bards stretching back to an ancestor of hers who knew demanitus and agreed to protect his undying birdbrained duck vessel until such time as he was ready to emerge. eugene feels bad about distrusting her, they make up at the end of the episode, she slips him vigor’s fortune about one of the group turning traitor in the dark kingdom. he’s like, fuck.

15. destinies collides happen, cass gets the moonstone and fucks off, for the rest of s3 canardist’s role is like... she and vigor stick with the group, she’s still chronicling them, but she also, because of her own history with demanitus, is able to help fill in some of the gaps; she reveals to rapunzel that gothel was once a servant of demanitus—and betrayed him for zhan tiri, and then betrayed zhan tiri for the sundrop. basically she’s how we get more of the the gothel+zhan tiri lore we were all craving in s3

16. other s3 stuff—maybe with her help team corona starts sketching out a plan for dealing with zhan tiri immediately after race to the spire, rather than putting it off until plus est en vous. maybe she gets to be a kind of foil to cass; as a bard, she’s always the one telling the story—never participating in it directly—and perhaps she has some complicated feelings about that that could parallel cassandra’s feelings about always being in the shadows, just a footnote, just a bit player, never someone the story is about. maybe she can have a cute bonding moment or two with varian the demanitus fanboy or xavier the legends buff. also whacky vigor and canardist shenanigans during lost treasure are mandatory. anyway the point here is, she’s not just yeeted out of the story

#rta #this post ran away from me somewhat rip #but yeah to get rid of the racism you basically have to throw out the whole suitcase and start over so #tangled-dreamer-97

55 notes · View notes