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artificial-radiance · 1 month

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oh i love the Path Through the Woods au omg!!! can you tell us about the voices? what are they like and how they are foils to the monsters and such

i cant wait to see all of the other monsters :DD

is the a princess version of the narrator too or is the story different?

(note: this ask was received earlier in March, and I have been working on answering it since -- ty for your patience <3)

For that last question, I imagine the Narrator being the same horrible old crow, though my writing style is certainly different from how he's portrayed (I love describing things way too much) so writing him has been a small bit of a struggle - I need to practice portraying him. As of finishing the list below, I've gotten more confident writing him as I've played him for friends. The story is very different, and he has taken matters into his own hands differently - wanting you to walk into your death through believing him.

For your first question, I'll keep that all under a read more! But for a generalized idea, the Voices here are based on the Shifting Mound's descriptions of the Vessels and how they were described as hearts.

Over the course of writing this, there have been a few renames. They'll be noted <3

While not a voice, "you"/the player are called the Runaway. In tandem with the Voice of the Stray, she is the chapter 1 Princess. What she can arm herself with is different per chapter, and there's implications her appearance changes as well.

The Voice of the Stray is your inverse - if you are armed, she is more passive, and if you are unarmed, she is colder. This is in reference to how the Princess in Ch 1 changes personality based on if you enter the basement with the blade or not.

She was previously called the Voice of the Princess, then the Voice of the Captive, and then the Voice of the Runaway before getting to this point.

The Voice of the Accused is based on the Prisoner. She lays out what she thinks directly and pointedly. She doesn't say more than she needs to, prefering to watch and think things through quietly.

The Voice of the Cutthroat is based on the Adversary. She thinks in directly actions and has the will needed to make you do things.

She was originally called the Voice of the Rival. I thought this was too on the nose and looked to change it, taking Cutthroat from the Voice of the Trapper.

The Voice of the Dove is based on the Damsel. She thinks the Warden means the best for them, and is entirely willing to trust him and do what he says. While she won't suggest violence herself, she can deliver with unflinching cheeriness.

The Voice of the Exalted is based on the Tower. She sees herself as powerful and in charge of the situation. She's calculating where Cutthroat is impatient, and belittles those she doesn't like.

She was originally named the Voice of the Divine, then Voice of the Mystic. The former was too on the nose for me, and the second a little out of place for her personality.

The Voice of the Faithful is based on the Witch. She isn't trusting of others, having faith in herself rather than others. She isn't shy of suggesting trickery and betrayal if the circumstance could benefit from it.

She was originally named the Voice of the Tested before changing it because it didn't feel or sound right.

The Voice of the Haunted is based on the Spectre. She's relaxed for the most part, and one of the more pleasant voices to be around. She's willing to trust anyone that extends a hand to help.

She was originally named the Voice of the Dreamer, and then the Voice of the Drifter.

The Voice of the Hoax is based on the Razor. She likes to lie and oppose most decisions made, though when she's called out on it she's quick to deny most accusations. She likes to have good fun at the expense of others.

She was originally named the Voice of the Snitch, then the Voice of the Sleeve. Her named was hanged because while "Sleeve" was unique, I didn't fully enjoy it.

The Voice of the Solace is based on the Nightmare. She's playful, but impatient, entirely willing to throw tantrums and be cruel when she doesn't get what she wants. She has a strong will to enforce on the body and the Construct.

She was originally named the Voice of the Gentle before I decided it wasn't fitting for her (though you could argue the Solace isn't either - it's more for irony I suppose).

The Voice of the Splintered is based on the Stranger. She's naive, and her mood is unpredictable. She can be dismissive, vitriolic, or fully passive based on whatever stimuli she's given.

She was originally named the Voice of the Resonant, but I didn't fully vibe with it, hence the late change.

The Voice of the Trapper is based on the Beast. [edit] She is pretty decent planner and can read other creatures like a book. She knows what she's doing so long as it involves the element of surprise.

She was originally named the Voice of the Cutthroat, which was later given to the current Cutthroat. I held off from naming her the Hunter/Huntress since it was too on the nose.

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fssanctuary · 7 months

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A cool breeze flies through the temple, no storm in sight. Flames flicker in their sconces. A gear grinds. A creature rises dripping wet from the ocean, intent on its prey.

"Oh, come on," Shadow said, spinning around, his eyes wide with the promise of mischief. "You aren't scared?"

Blue folded his arms and scoffed. "I can see the wires. You aren't fooling anyone."

The meter jumped, and so did Red. He lifted his light, a bad feeling settling down in his stomach as he peered into the darkness.

Is it a hoax, or is it really haunted? Submit a fanwork to help figure it out…

This week runs from Sunday, October 8th (12:00 AM PST) to Saturday, October 14th (11:59 PM PST)! Get your votes in before the week is out!

#fsff23 #official #w2 23 hoax #w2 23 haunted

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moonmausoleum · 6 months

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The Mysterious Tale of Borley Rectory - Was it Really Haunted?

Tucked away in a remote corner of Suffolk lies a building with a sinister past - Borley Rectory. For centuries it had ghostly tales of nuns and headless horsemen in the night, but how much of it was true and how much was a hoax?

Tucked away in a remote corner of Suffolk lies a building with a sinister past – Borley Rectory. For centuries it had ghostly tales of nuns and headless horsemen in the night, but how much of it was true and how much was a hoax? Borley Rectory, located in a remote corner of Suffolk, has long been shrouded in mystery and speculation of the paranormal kind. It even used to be described as the most…

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#1900s #article #england #Europe #featured #harry price #haunted house #headless ghost #headless horseman #hoaxes #nun #spiritualism #UK

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metal-patches-vinyl · 1 year

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Albums of the Week! The top spot goes to Hoaxed - Two Shadows (2022). This album was included among my recent contest winnings from The Metalhead Box, and I’d never heard of the band. Turns out it’s awesome. The ultra-clean and melodic female vocals accompany a grooving, heavy rhythm section, and the songs are quite memorable. I love discovering new music like this! ⚔️ Necropanther’s excellent new release stays on for another week, as does Ettinskjalf’s. Haunt is releasing a new greatest hits compilation called “Chariot, Vol. 1,” which includes remixed and remastered versions of their finest work. Do you like Power Trip? Give Integrity’s album a try and I think you’ll like what you hear. ☠️ 1. Hoaxed - Two Shadows 2. Ettinskjalf - Between Walls and Delusion (2023) 3. Integrity - Those Who Fear Tomorrow 4. Grand Belial’s Key - Mocking the Philanthropist 5. Necropanther - Betrayal (2023) 6. Haunt - Chariot Vol. 1 (2023) 7. Obituary - Dying of Everything (2023) 8. Khemmis - Absolution 9. Ozzy Osbourne - The Ultimate Sin ☠️ What did you listen to this week?

#aotw #hoaxed #ettinskjalf #integrity #grandbelialskey #necropanther #haunt #obituary #khemmis #ozzyosbourne

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mecthology · 2 years

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The Smurl Haunting.

After flood damage forced them from their Wilkes-Barre home, Janet and Jack Smurl, along with their daughters and Jack’s parents, moved into a Chase Street duplex in West Pittson, Pennsylvania. A bit of a fixer-upper, they put their efforts into repainting, retooling, and repairs. It was at this time that the eerie activity began.

Tools went missing then reappeared; old wall stains seeped through fresh coats of paint. Then the kitchen appliances caught fire even though they were unplugged, and awful odors overwhelmed the house, only to disperse moments later.

Soon, the Smurls were struggling to make ends meet. Mary, Jack’s mother, suffered a heart attack. The ghostly visits, meanwhile, intensified. Mary and Janet claimed to have perceived voices that sounded like one another: Janet thought she heard her mother-in-law calling her name, while Mary thought she heard Janet and Jack in the throes of an argument laden with expletives. Ominous black masses formed and floated through the home. Janet said she was visited in the dead of night by a malevolent force that molested her in her sleep.

Life in the Smurl house grew darker. A light fixture fell from the ceiling, cutting one of the daughters on impact. The family dog was thrown against the wall. Janet said she was picked up by an invisible presence, and then tossed across the room. Jack claimed a succubus entered the living room and raped him. Even neighbors reported hearing screams from the house while the family was out.

Terrified, the Smurls contacted the Warrens. After inspecting the house, Lorraine Warren, a clairvoyant, concluded that the Smurls shared their home with four spirits: a harmless elderly woman, a young and possibly violent girl, a man who suffered and died in the home, and a demon that used the other three spirits to destroy the Smurl family.

Representatives from the Roman Catholic Church in Scranton were uncertain as to what might be causing the activity. Multiple priests visited the Smurls to bless their home; they reportedly encountered “no harmful activity”.

Follow @mecthology for more scary stories and lores. DM for pic credit or removal. https://www.instagram.com/p/CgxWKpcBDR-/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#Scary #ghosts #spirit #paranormal #the warrens #creepy #supernatural #scary story #haunting #dangerous #hoax #amazing #history #horror #possession

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fhsjifeghjksdagc · 3 months

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youtube

BE WARNED, Manu Intiraymi has embraced the tinfoil hat crowd. The only question is whether he did so to regain followers after his "Anthony Rapp" comments or is following in the footsteps of whackjobs like dean cain scott baio and kevin sorbo towards a padded cell.

Please be careful around him (and those who associate with him) lest you get sucked into the black hole.

#star trek #icheb #star trek voyager #scam alert #scam #hoax #star trek picard #tin foil hat #aliens and ufos #haunted house #cult #Youtube

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delcat177 · 1 year

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All kinds of "haunted" items are sold on eBay every day, but in less rampant abandon than the unregulated 00s. I distinctly remember a listing of $300 for a rubber ducky that was exactly the same make and model as my own, but supposedly superheated the bathwater of a child to boiling when it splashed down, something that did not keep the poor mother from selling the article, albeit in a plastic Tupperware container to keep the buyer from falling ill.

When are we gonna get THAT iteration of The Conjuring/Annabelle/The Remaining Warrens Appreciate Your Money Vehicle

#Still yelling about posession 2012 sorry #Horror #Ebay #Ebay hoax #Ebay scam #Haunting #Haunted #Cinema #I'd pay a dollar to see that #Rubber ducky #You're the one #You make blood spill and melting flesh run #Rubber ducky I'm awfully fond of *#*infernal screaming*#Del come back to this

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makingqueerhistory · 7 months

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Spooky Queer Books

Since spooky season is starting, I thought I would share a list of my favourite queer books that are great for this time of year.

Some of these links are affiliate links.

It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror

Joe Vallese

Horror movies hold a complicated space in the hearts of the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. Common tropes--such as the circumspect and resilient "final girl," body possession, costumed villains, secret identities, and things that lurk in the closet--spark moments of eerie familiarity and affective connection. Still, viewers often remain tasked with reading themselves into beloved films, seeking out characters and set pieces that speak to, mirror, and parallel the unique ways queerness encounters the world.It Came from the Closet features twenty-five essays by writers speaking to this relationship, through connections both empowering and oppressive. From Carmen Maria Machado on Jennifer's Body, Jude Ellison S. Doyle on In My Skin, Addie Tsai on Dead Ringers, and many more, these conversations convey the rich reciprocity between queerness and horror.

Into the Drowning Deep

Mira Grant

The ocean is home to many myths, But some are deadly... Seven years ago the Atargatis set off on a voyage to the Mariana Trench to film a mockumentary bringing to life ancient sea creatures of legend. It was lost at sea with all hands. Some have called it a hoax; others have called it a tragedy. Now a new crew has been assembled. But this time they're not out to entertain. Some seek to validate their life's work. Some seek the greatest hunt of all. Some seek the truth. But for the ambitious young scientist Victoria Stewart this is a voyage to uncover the fate of the sister she lost. Whatever the truth may be, it will only be found below the waves. But the secrets of the deep come with a price.

The Devouring Gray

C. L. Herman

After her sister's death, seventeen-year-old Violet Saunders finds herself dragged to Four Paths, New York. Violet may be a newcomer, but she soon learns her mother isn't: They belong to one of the revered founding families of the town, where stone bells hang above every doorway and danger lurks in the depths of the woods. Justin Hawthorne's bloodline has protected Four Paths for generations from the Gray--a lifeless dimension that imprisons a brutal monster. After Justin fails to inherit his family's powers, his mother is determined to keep this humiliation a secret. But Justin can't let go of the future he was promised and the town he swore to protect. Ever since Harper Carlisle lost her hand to an accident that left her stranded in the Gray for days, she has vowed revenge on the person who abandoned her: Justin Hawthorne. There are ripples of dissent in Four Paths, and Harper seizes an opportunity to take down the Hawthornes and change her destiny--to what extent, even she doesn't yet know. The Gray is growing stronger every day, and its victims are piling up. When Violet accidentally unleashes the monster, all three must band together with the other Founders to unearth the dark truths behind their families' abilities...before the Gray devours them all.

Tell Me I'm Worthless

Alison Rumfitt

Three years ago, Alice spent one night in an abandoned house with her friends, Ila and Hannah. Since then, Alice's life has spiraled. She lives a haunted existence, selling videos of herself for money, going to parties she hates, drinking herself to sleep. Memories of that night torment Alice, but when Ila asks her to return to the House, to go past the KEEP OUT sign and over the sick earth where teenagers dare each other to venture, Alice knows she must go. Together, Alice and Ila must face the horrors that happened there, must pull themselves apart from the inside out, put their differences aside, and try to rescue Hannah, whom the House has chosen to make its own. Cutting, disruptive, and darkly funny, Tell Me I'm Worthless is a vital work of trans fiction that examines the devastating effects of trauma and how fascism makes us destroy ourselves and each other.

#queer #lgbt #transgender #queer books #lgbt books #book recommendations #queer history

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tanoraqui · 1 month

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In Which Space Orcs are Men

[AO3] A "what if humans are space orcs" take on Dagor Dagorath. (Aka the prophecied apocalypse of Middle Earth. Scifi story accessible to non-LotR nerds!)

Elves weren't really supposed to leave Earth. That's what they told us—the Elves, that is, told people thousands of years ago, when Elves could still be found here and there. When I was born, elves were nearly as much a fairy tale as they’d been on Ancient Earth.

Elves weren't supposed to leave Earth, the Elves said in the fairy tales, and in a few old scraps of records scattered around known space. They literally weren't made for it. They could only do it if they brought Earth with them—Arda they called it, leaves or dirt, water or a rare bubble of air, perfectly preserved in a white crystal. There are tons of tales about Elves losing their lifeline jewels—their hearts, their silimirs—and roping people into epic quests to get them back before they—the Elf—faded to nothingness.

Even the jewels weren't enough, though. That's why there are also stories about Elves who fell in love with a person or a place and stayed there until they faded, or Elves who charmed someone into following them back to Fairyland on Earth...because whatever they said, Elves didn't really live on Earth. Humans have maintained their home planet as a monitored nature reserve since like the 40th century, open only to vetted research teams and serious Human religious pilgrimages. The most confirmed accounts of Elves that exist are of their ships appearing out of nowhere, with no trace of any tech that would enable it, at random, always-changing points within 100 miles or so of Earth.

Nobody ever came back from trying to follow Elves home. Mostly Elves tried to dissuade people from trying. But there are always crazy and curious people—and Elves usually attracted those, because any Elf who left the home they were "made" for was usually crazy and curious themselves.

Those were the stories I grew up with. There was a cave near the orphans' creche which was supposed to be haunted by a faded Elf. I didn't really believe it—like I said, the last confirmed Elf was last seen like 5,000 years ago, and not even on my planet. People have met two dozen new sentient races since then. We've discovered that reincarnation is probably real (just functionally untrackable), prompting the Pan-Religious Reform Wars. The last person to see a live Elf was still traveling via natural wormholes—they literally didn't know that you could loop pi.

When the Human natal sun started to turn really red, it wasn’t that big a deal at first. It’s a very important, very sad event for any species, but it happens to everyone eventually. It happened to the Hectort just after we invented interstellar flight. There were some unusual gravatic waves around Earth’s Sol, but nothing worth noting to anyone who didn’t already care for personal reasons.

Then the Elves sent us a message.

The local Parks Service picked it up, of course. I bet the Humans meant to hush it up at first—though the Centaurian government still won’t admit anything—but someone leaked it immediately on the intergalactic net. It should’ve only been famous as a joke of a hoax, but…

It was basically just a metal box with rudimentary fire-thrusters soldered on the sides. It contained two things. The first was a recording/replaying device so antiquated that the only way they got it working is that it was already playing on loop, and didn’t stop until someone disconnected it from its power source.

The message was in Ancient Bouban, which some folklorist soon announced is the latest language an Elf could know, since the last known Elf went back to “Arda.” The voice somehow sounded melodic to every species with a concept of music, from the screeching Vesarians to the deep-sea sub-sonic Thinkers, even when translated through cheap, staticky speakers. And to most species, the speaker was audibly distraught.

They said,

This is the final message from the Firstborn of Eru to the Secondborn, and everyone else. The Battle of Battles has come, and we…are losing. If there are any who remember the ancient love and loyalty which bound our peoples, if there are any heirs remaining of Thargalax the Magnificent, of Nine-Fingered Frodo, of the noble Houses of Haleth, Hador and Beor—

The speaker drew a sharp breath, there.

—by great oaths and greater friendship I bid you now to raise your swords and ride to our aid. Ride as swiftly as you can!

We will hold for another year. We will, they said determinedly. After that, it is unlikely that…

Another, shakier breath. A smile forced into a voice which would rather weep.

Fëanáro and Nienna believe there is a way to destroy the Straight Road. If we must, if it comes to it, we will do so, and trap the First Enemy here in this dying world with us. Though I don’t know about—

Hair-aristocrat! a more distant, slightly less perfectly melodious voice called, in a language so dead that they needed computers to decode it. The walls are falling, we need to go!

If you never hear from us again, and no sudden discord arises among you, you will know we succeeded, the first speaker said quickly. If otherwise…I am sorry. Either way, I bid you all only, remember us! Oh beautiful flames, remember us, as we have ever remembered y—

There was a sudden screech of tearing metal, a defiant, musical battle-cry, and a jarring silence. Then the message restarted.

And that wasn’t even the strangest thing in the box. The strangest thing was the recorder’s power source, which was powering the whole tiny rocket mechanism as well. It was an Elf-jewel right out of a fairy tale, a fist-sized, translucent not-quite-diamond—but instead of rock or water or a much-loved scrap of plant, the only thing it held was light.

...Kind of. It isn’t normal light. It arguably isn’t light at all, as we know it—scientists now think it’s technically some sort of plasmoid aether, except it only acts like a plasmoid aether about half the time.

It has no detectable source within the jewel. It fully illuminates whatever space it’s in, no matter how big. Its visible radiation is a frequency, the scientists say, that matches a hyper-accelerated version of what the universe must’ve sounded like in the split second after the Big Bang.

It makes people remember things, when they see it in person or sometimes even across a holo. Some remember a similar light in a strange traveler’s eyes. Others, dreamily enchanted valleys where spring never faded, or tall castles, bright swords, and stern and glorious lords and ladies. And some of us got hit with a whole lifetime of memories in one go: an identical gem on the brow of a sober forest king, friends who slipped through trees like shadows save for their merry laughter, an impossibly beautiful gold-haired maiden dancing in a glittering cavern...

(And all the pain and loss that came with them.)

And some people just remember the sight of a distant star—in another world, in another lifetime.

Reincarnation was provable but untraceable…until now.

The Thinker ambassador on Astrolax Station 5 was the first to kick up a fuss. Most Thinkers never leave their home planet, they're too huge and aquatic. But like I said, there's always crazy and curious people. The ambassador started bellowing the second che heard the message, without even seeing the light, because, "I know him! My Wisdom! We must send aid!" That made some news, and random other people shared their own, less dramatic revelations, and soon a compilation swept the net with timestamps showing that most of them were organically independent, not just jumping on the bandwagon….

Even that might've gotten written off intergalactically. The Thinkers are big in reincarnationist circles, on account of how they claim that deep in their planetary ocean they can hear echoes of their past lives. But being mostly planet-bound means they're not really influential on a big political level. Or it would've sparked another surge of the Reform Wars, and everybody would've remembered the rock, but not the recording. Or there would’ve been a fight over this potentially infinite energy source (though that is so last giga-annum)….

But first it was shown in person to the current Director of the Admiralty of the Astral Alliance, President of the X-ee Empire and Matron of the House of S,sh, Ch’ees/i’i S,sh. I was actually there—I was Captain of her ceremonial Alliance guards, in a last-ditch attempt to salvage my career after Zanzibus. Very ceremonial, considering the X-eee have laser-proof shells and pincers and I have, what, opposable thumbs? Vestigial tusks?

I wasn’t paying attention at first, too busy being suddenly assaulted by all my own memories. So I missed the President freezing mid-step and gasping (in X-eee), “Mother.” I also missed her rising alarm call of an attempt to speak Ancient Elvish without an Elvish tongue or lips.

I sure didn’t miss her snap back to X-eee for a sharp call to attention, and everything that followed: the call to arms! The rousing of the Alliance! A tour of the galaxy, to find anyone and everyone else in whom the Light could awaken ancient memories! And for the love of X'eeh, why had nobody figured out how to get back to Fairyland with this thing yet, and every warship in the quadrant?!

If I believed in the One Behind, or in any other creator god or gods—I'm not saying I do, but if I did, if there really is something out there all-powerful and all-kind—then it'd be because out of every soul in the entire universe, the probably one in the best position to act on the Elves' message turned out to have, from a past life, two parents and a much-loved twin still in Fairyland. Like, that's insane, right?

I stayed with the Director's ceremonial guards for the whole tour, actually more than ceremonial for once—it was the weirdest mission of my life, and I've been on a lot of weird missions. Or supposedly routine missions that got weird (and usually disastrous). My friends joke that I'm cursed. S,sh requisitioned an Inquiry-class ship, so the science boffins could study the Light and jewel along the way, and we started wormholing at weft speed, hitting a new planet every week. Sometimes every day. In each major spaceport and ground-city, S,sh stood with the jewel on the highest available point and gave a recruitment speech for going to save the Elves and fight the oldest enemy of all reality.

Honestly, it seemed a little redundant? The Astral Alliance was made for this sort of rescue mission (and for escorting trade convoys). But I was...if not happy, then sure as hell more self-certain with my ancient memories restored, and most people who joined up seemed to agree. It was mostly people who remembered, when exposed to the Light, who joined—so before long, we had a whole tag-along trail of mostly civilian ships, trying to get up to Alliance Fleet standard on the road in less than a year.

Three different religious sects tried to kill S,sh for "profaning the mysteries." Five others tried to steal the jewel because we were apparently appropriating a holy object. The boffins announced that, bar the can't-prove-a-negative possibility, the evidently sourceless Light should be counted as an infinite energy source, and at least seven different groups, ruthless financiers and sustainability idealists, immediately tried to steal it for that. And I still don't know what the rival thief-queens of Likkiliani were about, except that I got tied up upside-down from a palmdar tree for two hours trying to stop one, the other paid me 700 cron then threw me off a cliff, and in the end they recognized each other from past lives and just made out on worldwide live-holo before joining our growing fleet.

It turned out they were the Director's past life's great-grandparents, and a Canid pop princess was her niece. The Thinker ambassador was some sort of ancestor, too. Crazy extended family.

Most people who remember just remember the sight of a star in the sky. A buddy of mine from Fleet Academy remembered looking up at it as a Human sailor. The historians—and you’d better bet we picked up some Earther historians on this mission as well!—say this jewel or one like it was probably astrologically conflated with the planet Venus by early Humans.

(The more time I spent around the jewel, the Silmaril, the more I remembered, of my first life and more. Lifetime after lifetime with bad luck dogging my steps, killing loved ones in my arms, destroying cities I was supposed to save… One restless, haunted night, I met a Rigilic in the cafeteria who’d been awake with some of the same nightmares, who’d been my dead older sister once.)

The tour was cut short when word came from the Earth system that there was a black hole growing in the center of their reddening sun.

No, the sun wasn’t compressing into a black hole millennia ahead of schedule—one had just spontaneously manifested within it, like it’d teleported in. No, not literally—that was impossible. We were pretty sure. No, the sun wasn’t falling into it…somehow. Yet. The black hole was only 17 quectometers wide, but it was growing at an erratic but unceasing rate. If their best estimation of the pattern held, it would consume the sun 2 months before the Elves’ deadline, and the Earth 4 to 950 minutes later.

We pulled back to Earth—well, to the dwarf planet Eros, on the edges of Earth’s star system. That’s where the nearest shipyard of any note was, and we were gathering the whole Astral Alliance. This is exactly the sort of thing the Alliance is for.

I was released back to ship duty. Zanzibus was still a black mark on my record, as was Jorab, and really everything on the AAS Endeavor…and that thing in third year of Fleet Academy… But no matter how bad my curse, I was an experienced captain and one of the best pilots in the Alliance. For this, we needed all the best.

The boffins had pretty quickly mastered limited manipulation of the Light, using modified aetheric resonators, and every day they came up with something new for us to test. They focused the Light into a laser cannon like no one has seen before. They laced it through plasma shields until a fully shielded ship glowed like a distant star. They managed to nearly replicate the Silmaril’s crystalline structure, so they could make “copies” that shone like the original for first a few hours; then, with refinement, a full week…

The one thing they couldn’t pin down with any real confidence was how to get to Fairyland. The frequency of the Light resonated with large bodies of Earther saltwater in a particular way, and models suggested that if the Light source moved horizontally along the water within a certain range of distance and velocity, the resonance would create a wormhole-like ripple in space—but wormhole-like, was the key word, and models suggested. The closest anyone had seen to that spatial distortion was in a logbook of dubious veracity from the Delta Quadrant, four hundred years ago. Alteia, my Academy buddy who’d been a Human sailor, took the Silmaril in an M-wing on a series of highly monitored test flights above the Atlantic Ocean, and space did repeatedly start to hollow in front of bom—so bo had to stop every time, rather than risk vanishing with our single, maybe-one-way ticket.

Then Earth’s moon stopped shining in the sky. Its albedo just dropped nearly to zero, from one night to the next. There was nothing wrong that anyone could figure out—nothing with the orbit, nothing with the surface rock, nothing with the artificial atmosphere. Inhabitants reported feeling colder by several degrees, but no measuring equipment recorded anything.

The black hole slightly off-center in the middle of Sol was now 844.9 zeptometers, and growing more steadily.

We didn’t have time to keep testing. We needed to raise our swords and make our ride, even if we only got one shot at it.

I was given command, for seniority, skill, and because I was the one who managed to talk S,sh out of leading the fleet herself. (If my lives had taught me anything, it was the importance of having someone, anyone, ready to be emergency backup.) Ironically, I was back on the Endeavor, with most of my old crew—though we got permission to rename the ship, in honor of the mission. A lot of people did. Alteia was now commanding the AAS Elendil on my right flank, star-friend in Ancient Elvish. That Canid pop princess had taken over a hospital ship and renamed it Rivendell. An Earth Park Ranger, of all things, remembered being my dad—briefly—and he was leading the Rangers plus my Rigilic drinking buddy on the EPSS Elfsheen.

We weren’t sure if any ship but the one with the Silmaril would get through. The fleet numbered in the hundreds in battleships alone, not counting scouts and scuttlers. Twelve races had sent ships on top of their typical Alliance Fleet tithe, and S,sh had brought about half the full force of the X-ee Empire. We all just locked tractor beams and hoped.

I was piloting as well as captaining, with the Silmaril between my forehorns. It was held in place by about a dozen wires and other connectors to the ship, like an old-timey pilot’s headset. We took off in orbit around Earth, as close as possible to the surface—not very close, in warships of Class S and higher, but within range of the oceanic resonance. A Likkilianian thief-queen stood at my shoulder, ready to advise if anything “Musical” started to happen.

Think about what you’re trying to get to, and why, the boffins had advised, so I did—bright-eyed kings and dancing maidens; lost friends, families, cities, planets and all. The jewel got warmer against my skin and shone brighter with every pulse of the engine, brighter than we should’ve been able to see through.

The silver-gold Light twisted and diffused as space did around us. But there was no familiar rippling wormhole boundary—instead, spacetime thinned to a curtain like driving rain, like Vesarian silver-glass.

A ghost appeared next to me. She looked like the oldest, grumpiest writing teacher at the crèche, though I knew that was only in my head.

“There you are,” she said, impatient and relieved like I’d been hiding in the sandbox again, rather than coming to class on time. Her sewing scissors went snip snip snip as she darted them around my body—and a chain on my soul faded into guiding threads.

Before she’d even disappeared again, I punched the engine and blasted through the silver-glass curtain.

Fairy tales said there’d be a peerlessly beautiful land on the other side, green with eternal spring, full of endless light and laughter. They said there’d be sunlit shores and shimmering waves, with welcoming docks for sea-ships, sky-ships and space-ships all…

We flew into the worst battlefield I’d ever seen, in any lifetime. It was more desperately vicious than Jerusalem V at the height of the Reform Wars, more ruined than Glaurung’s wake, more desolate than Zanzibus after the nuclears fell.

Either a massive supercontinent or a small moon had been shattered, leaving nothing but a roiling debris field. The brand-new meteoroids ranged from pebbles to rocks the size of a small space station, and included space-frozen corpses, forests, and what might have once been city blocks.

I gave the helm back to my Pilot Officer—zer had, I can admit, slightly better reflexes for dodging debris—and focused on captaining.

Most of the life signs were clinging to the larger rocks. There shouldn’t have been atmosphere for them, but walls of thunderstorm wrapped around every shard with even a single life sign—wind and water desperately hand in hand to safeguard the last of the Elves. The only thing visible through the impossible storms was the Light of a second Silmaril, on a meteoroid shaped like half a broken eggshell.

A corpse lay at the epicenter of the explosion—what might’ve been a corpse, if it wasn’t also shattered. The broken pieces of a massive stone humanoid, taller than my ship if it’d stood beside her, still bleeding lava so hot that it burned even in frozen space. Another titan knelt at the shards of its head, a figure of towering bark and leaves, wailing with grief even worse than the end of the world.

A slimmer tree-woman stood with one hand on her shoulder, comforting, and the other wielding a skyscraper-sized club spiked with incandescent wildflowers. Guarding her sister’s heartbreak, she fended off a swarm of bat-sized monsters with wings of darkness and whips of flame.

Bat-sized relative to the gods of Elves and ancient Humans. About the size of an M-wing, in flight.

Countless more of the bat-things flung themselves at the storm-bubbles, like carnivores chasing the prey hidden inside. They were fended off by an equal army of creatures with wings of light and swords of lightning, led by a towering figure who seemed to dance from one bloody battle to the next.

The biggest battle by far was the farthest away, over where the sun had been. In this dimension of stories over science, Sol was another woman-shape, smaller than the others but burning just as brightly as her star. Also just as blood-red. The light was centered on a fist she kept clenched at her chest, and instead of containing the black hole, the unseeable thing that it was here surrounded her, striking at her with a thousand hungry jaws and grasping legs, and she had only a one-handed whip of a solar flare to fend it off—

But she didn’t fight alone. A warrior tore at the Darkness’s spidery limbs with his fists, image on the cameras flickering impossibly between every hero I’d ever heard of. A snarling figure bit at it with jagged teeth, gored it with horns, shredded it with claws and talons, and generally made every ancient prey-instinct in me scream. And a queen with a crown of stars, a shield like the night sky and a sword like a streaking comet, stood dauntlessly at the sun-holder’s side.

With all that, and with the speed of even her most exhausted strikes, I thought the sun-holder could probably have gotten away if she’d tried. But I knew how a person fought when they weren’t willing to leave a friend, and a smaller, silver figure lay at her feet, unmoving and drained of light.

But even the battle for the sun wasn’t what grabbed my eye. No—all my attention, all my guiding threads of fate and the quick temper that always used to get me in trouble, before (and sometimes after) I learned to leash it in an Alliance uniform— All of that took me straight to the fight happening orthogonal to the stone giant’s corpse.

It was another one-versus-many. Morgoth, the First Enemy of Elves and Men— Master of Lies, Maker of Chains, Sonofabitch Curser of Bloodlines—towered over even his fellow gods. His shape changed constantly, sickeningly, but it was always black-armored with eyes like dying stars that hated you personally. His maul dripped with lava and every other kind of blood.

He fought against three great gray figures who moved as one. The tallest wielded a star-studded scythe with swift, efficient strokes, and wore the dark gray of corpse-shrouds. The shortest shimmered with more colors than even a Stamotapadon could dream of, and his weapon shifted likewise. The third was the clear, clean gray of skies after rain or tears run dry, and fought with only a shield—and hit harder with it than either of her brothers.

Around their heads darted the only Elves on the battlefield, in small fliers more like sea-ships than aircraft. But they moved fluidly, pestering the Dark Lord like flies, pricking his skin and threatening his burning eyes.

Until Morgoth swung his maul with a roar of fury that traveled even though soundless space. My ship and heart both shuddered. The gray gods all staggered back, and the Elves fell from the no-longer-sky—all but their leader, more fire than flesh, who wore the third Silmaril. Morgoth caught him in one massive black hand and with sharp claws plucked the jewel away, as easily as a ripe berry from a tree—

“All power to fore-cannon and fire,” I ordered—and the jewel on my brow shone bright again as several stored months’ worth of infinite Silmaril-Light slammed into Morgoth’s chest with all the force that the best scientists in the Astral Alliance could engineer.

He stumbled. He dropped both the jewel and the elf-king (who’d been trying to bite him). The Lady of Mercy tossed her shield to catch them, staying low and out of sight—though she needn’t have bothered. The so-called “Lord of All” had already found his next enemy.

“All ships, move forward and join shields,” I ordered, and met his burning stare though the viewscreen. “Then broadcast me on all external frequencies.”

The wires on my forehead shimmered as we shifted Light-flow to the shields—and to my right, so did the Elendil, and to my left, the Cosmian Blade, and all around us the Minas Tirith, the Elfsheen, the Muse, the Rivendell, the Heart of Zanzi, the Longbottom Leaf… They were still soaring out of the silvery distortion behind me, tractor- and Silmaril-towed: sleek Rigilic eels-of-prey and Centaurian cruisers full of Humans eager to fight for their homeworld, Betan mine-ships and Canid X-M-wings and my own Hectoan starlighters, a full third of the X-ee navy with their X-eee–shaped six-engine dreadnoughts, and hundreds more.

“This is Captain Pel Cinia, once Túrin Turambar, of the Astral Alliance ship Gurthang,” I said. My words were broadcast from every ship on every frequency in every language that the people of Arda might know, as the Fleet assembled from forty-plus different worlds flew into position. Our Light-infused shields blazed and locked together, until we formed a seamless wall right in the Enemy’s face, with the Elves and their other allies safely behind us.

I’ve never felt more proud to recite the most cliché line in the Fleet:

“We got your distress call. We’re here to help.”

#the silmarillion #science fiction #humans are space orcs #fanfiction #my fic #dagor dagorath #not tagging characters bc spoilers (they're listed at the end of the ao3 though)

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kaenith · 7 months

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Color Fall 2023 - #3

That scene in the Temple of Darkness where Red and Blue are too wrapped up in their argument to notice the Big Poe always amuses me xD So... this is that, but with Pokemon!

Also, my piece for FS Fright Fight week two: hoax vs haunted

#fsff23 #four swords #pokemon #red link #blue link #big poe #luxio #ribombee #haunter #not sure why this is the idea that kept coming to mind when I tried to think of something for this prompt #maybe because ''haunted'' = ''haunter''?#I had hoped to write a ficlet for this week too but I started falling behind and running out of time #even as it is I'm cutting it close ^^;;#but hey it's still Saturday in some places!!#my art #fanart

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is-the-thing-actually-jewish · 10 months

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Maybe it’s a softball question, but I’d sure love to read an answer to “are dybbuk boxes actually Jewish?”. I know those things are still being sold on places like Etsy and eBay to this day.

Rating: Not Jewish

No, Dybbuk boxes are not real, they are misappropriations of Jewish spirituality and superstition. Dybbukim are a real concept in Judaism, they're a type of demon that clings to things, particularly people. "Dybbuk" comes from the Hebrew word of "Debek", which means "cling to".

However, Dybbuk boxes specifically are not a Jewish thing. They all originate from a hoax concocted in 2003 by Kevin Mannis, who exploited the Holocaust to sell his lie. His success has led to more people trying to cash in on his success on eBay and the like.

Here is an in-depth explanation of the situation by Jewitches:

-Mod Eitan

#not actually jewish #appropriation #goyishe inventions #jumblr #general category topic #dybbuk boxes

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chosetherose · 1 year

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Updated as of 6/30

The Eras Tour *Surprise Songs*

Taylor said her goal is to not repeat each show’s surprise songs so I thought it would be fun to track them as the tour goes on! Black strikethrough is included in the main set list. Purple strikethrough are included in the main set list but have been switched up at some show/s. Blue songs Taylor played but might be repeated due to messing up.

Taylor Swift

Tim McGraw (3/17) • Picture to Burn • Teardrops on My Guitar (5/5) • A Place in This World (4/22) • Cold as You (4/23) • The Outside • Tied Together with a Smile • Stay Beautiful• Should’ve Said No (5/19) • Mary’s Song (Oh My My My) • Our Song (3/24) • I’m Only Me When I’m with You (6/30) • Invisible (5/20) • A Perfectly Good Heart

Fearless

Fearless • Fifteen (5/6) • Love Story • Hey Stephen (5/14) • White Horse (3/25) • You Belong With Me • Breathe• Tell Me Why• You’re Not Sorry (4/21) • The Way I Loved You • Forever & Always (5/13) • The Best Day (5/14) • Change • Jump Then Fall (4/2) • Untouchable • Come In With The Rain • Superstar • The Other Side Of The Door (4/28) • You All Over Me (6/3) • Mr. Perfectly Fine (6/16) • We Were Happy • That’s When • Don’t You • Bye Bye Baby • Today was a fairytale (4/22)

Speak Now

Mine (5/7) • Sparks Fly (5/5) • Back To December • Speak Now (4/13, Taylor restarted part of the song but did not confirm it could be played again) • Dear John (6/24) • Mean (4/15) • The Story Of Us (6/17) • Never Grow Up • Enchanted • Better Than Revenge • Innocent• Haunted (6/9) • Last Kiss • Long Live • Ours (3/31) • If This Was A Movie (6/23) • Superman

Red

State Of Grace (3/18) • Red (5/21) • Treacherous (4/13) • I Knew You Were Trouble • All Too Well • 22 • I Almost Do (6/9) • We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together • Stay Stay Stay • The Last Time (6/16) • Holy Ground (5/27) • Sad Beautiful Tragic (3/31) • The Lucky One (4/2) • Everything Has Changed • Starlight • Begin Again (4/23) • The Moment I Knew (6/4) • Come Back… Be Here (5/12) • Girl At Home • Ronan • Better Man (5/19) • Nothing New • Babe • Message In A Bottle • I Bet You Think About Me (4/30) • Forever Winter • Run • The Very First Night • All Too Well – 10 Minute Version

1989

Welcome To New York (5/28) • Blank Space • Style • Out Of The Woods (5/6, Taylor confirmed it might be played again) • All You Had To Do Was Stay • Shake It Off • I Wish You Would (6/2) • Bad Blood • Wildest Dreams • How You Get The Girl (4/30) • This Love (5/13) • I Know Places • Clean (4/1, Taylor confirmed it might be played again, 5/28) • Wonderland (4/21) • You Are In Love • New Romantics

Reputation

…Ready For It? • End Game • I Did Something Bad • Don’t Blame Me • Delicate • Look What You Made Me Do • So It Goes… • Gorgeous (4/29) • Getaway Car (5/26) • King Of My Heart • Dancing With Our Hands Tied • Dress • This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things • Call It What You Want • New Year’s Day

Lover

I Forgot That You Existed • Cruel Summer • Lover • The Man • The Archer • I Think He Knows (5/21) • Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince • Paper Rings (6/23) • Cornelia Street • Death By A Thousand Cuts (4/1, Taylor confirmed it might be played again) • London Boy • Soon You’ll Get Better • False God (5/27) • You Need To Calm Down • Afterglow • Me! • It’s Nice To Have A Friend • Daylight (6/24) • All of the Girls You’ve Loved Before

Folklore

The 1 (replaced IS multiple shows) • Cardigan • The Last Great American Dynasty • Exile with Bon Iver • My Tears Ricochet • Mirrorball (3/17) • Seven (spoken, 6/17) • August • This Is Me Trying (3/18) • Illicit Affairs • Invisible String (replaced by T1 multiple shows) • Mad Woman (4/15) • Epiphany • Betty • Peace • Hoax • The Lakes (6/2)

Evermore

Willow • Champagne Problems • Gold Rush (5/12) • Tis The Damn Season • Tolerate It • No Body, No Crime • Happiness • Dorothea • Coney Island (4/28) • Ivy • Cowboy Like Me (3/25) • Long Story Short • Marjorie • Closure • Evermore (6/30) • Right Where You Left Me •It’s Time To Go

Midnights

On 4/14 Taylor changed the rule: ALL SONGS ON MIDNIGHTS MAY BE REPEATED. I’m adding the dates to the midnights surprise songs but they will remain in black text since they can be repeated.

Lavender Haze • Maroon (5/26) • Anti-Hero • Snow on the Beach (3/24) • You’re on Your Own, Kid (4/14) • Midnight Rain • Question…? (5/20) • Vigilante Shit • Bejeweled • Labyrinth • Karma • Sweet Nothing • Mastermind • The Great War (4/14) • Bigger Than the Whole Sky • Paris • High Infidelity (4/29) • Glitch • Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve (5/7) • Dear Reader • Hits Different (6/4)

Other

I don’t wanna live forever (6/3)

#reach out if I’m missing anything #eras tour #eras tour set list #surprise song #Taylor swift #taylor nation

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fssanctuary · 7 months

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🔦👻Announcing the Week Two Winner…

Haunted Wins! 👻

With a total of five entries from five participants, Week One of the Four Swords Fright Fight (Hoax vs. Haunted) ends with a transparent majority on the side of Haunted! We got some very spooky entries this week, please check them out in our reblogs and show them some love.

Return in full force and submit your entries for next week’s prompt, Past vs. Present within the time frame, 12:00 AM PST on Sunday, October 15th to 11:59 PM on Saturday, October 21st. Be sure to tag them with #fsff23 so we can all see your creations, and be sure to review the rules in the pinned post if you’re unsure!

Thank you to everyone for participating, it’s a joy to see your work!

@silentprincessandsweethibiscus @zarvasace @hey-adora @blurberrywrites @kaenith

#fsff23 #official #w2 23 haunted #w2 23 hoax

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moonmausoleum · 2 years

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The Legend of the Platte River Ship of Death

A legend of the Ship of Death that foreshadows death and acts as an omen to those that sees the phantom ship has been told for a while along the Platte River in Wyoming. What is this ship that warns about your loved ones dying? In Wyoming the North Platte Rivers follows the route through many states and the river itself was once used as a guide for the Oregon trail and the settlers way west into…