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#Rift Among Stories
trashiiplant · 11 days
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Me, @revolvius and @excessive-moisture decided to do the three way art collab together.
This was really fun actually- I even got a chance to try rendering water properly so hell yeah
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toxictoxicities · 6 months
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Don't ask, silly stupid ass aggie with @revolvius
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solarisposting · 5 months
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I just read a goodreads book review that made me angrier than any inconsequential thing has made me in a WHILE. I loved the book, and I'm not a good critic of novels (or anything); I'm decent at analysis to be fair, but I like a read or I don't (on a spectrum of course).
But good goddamn, this review reeked with pretension and was written like the most unbearable food or music critic's diatribes. Adult character is lost in life, makes stupid choices out of grief/running away from issues/thinking distance from community will help/doesn't act logically as a character in a horror plot? Childish and not very bright! A large bustling family coming together for a major cultural and spiritual threat and asking the same damn questions over and over again, repeating the same arguments, etc.? Tiresome and muddled! Bro is your family (bio or chosen) totally chill? Have you never at least seen (in media or in others' lives) annoying family members beating dead horses for days on end out of concern and love and lack of knowing how else to help???
Dude I dunno, it just felt like legitimate criticisms one might have if they dislike a book or parts of its structure, but then those criticisms were a molehill buried beneath a mountain of hating some super fuckin' flawed characters making wild and awful choices in a time of grief and isolation. Screaming!!!!
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mariocki · 2 years
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Bruno Cremer and Daniel Ivernel in the first production of Jean Anouilh's Becket ou l'honneur de Dieu, at the Théâtre Montparnasse, 1959
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alteredphoenix · 1 year
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Some character designs for some more of the girls that appear in the Daemon Familiar’s story in the present day era and whom Airi will meet - and contend with - on her travels to find the Demon King-in-Exile. That I...did during the ice storm and three of the sixteen hours spent in the dark without power, but y’all don’t need to know that.
Locations, and mostly outfits, are not 100% finalized, but written here as a reference point for future material.
A quick rundown:
Rochelle (left): The current leader of a community-driven law enforcement agency out in the jungles west of Esserings that was founded by her ancestors shortly after the Great War, in a direct counter-response to the police brutality and corruption among and enacted by the Displacers. Rochelle is dedicated to continuing her family’s line of work and upholding the peace that they feel the Displacers have failed in their duty to follow since their formation in the Rift War. Although she is willing to give the Displacers an opportunity to redeem themselves of their crimes against the common folk, Rochelle is willing to fight dirty and shed blood against them if it means their corruptive influence and arrogance will not harm her people and fellow officers - including a time-displaced cadet in training such as Airi, whose wanderings with Iryna lead her right into the heart - and the cross-hairs - of the group colloquially called ‘the Displacer Hunters’.
Hikari/Akari (middle): A former Displacer in the Esserings Displacer agency. As one of the two rising stars among their generation, Hikari was considered to be a candidate for promotion as an elite captain of the Displacer Honor Guard, an exceptional honor that is normally granted to more older, experienced members - especially to people that inhabit the islands to the far west and south of the mainland continent. However, observation of the corruption and misconduct committed by not only her own unit but other divisions among the Displacers led Hikari to become increasingly disillusioned, frustrated, and ultimately disgusted with the lack of investigation and accountability toward them, until she became a target of harassment and sexual abuse from the upper echelons. One such crime committed by her unit was the theft of a sword from a demon society, said to be forged under a full red moon, with the spirit of a night gaunt and the ability to drink the blood of people with sinful hearts. Unaware of the crime that had been done save for the claims of its creation, Hikari was drawn to and found solace at the sight of the bloodletting blade. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that the Displacers were a lost cause and must be dismantled. On that day, she broke through the containment housing the Blade, slaughtered her way through the ranks she once called ally, and fled the Esserings a wanted fugitive, taking up the pseudonym Akari. There she finds her way into Rochelle’s community and slowly earns her favor - and her respect - by providing evidence of the ongoing misconduct of the Displacer agencies. At the time of Airi’s travels, Hikari is currently Rochelle’s third-in-command, below her lieutenant and confidante, Marshall.
Eri (right): The second of the two Displacers within the Esserings Displacer agency that were considered for promotion to Honorary Guard. Eri and Hikari belonged to and fought in the same unit and were known to be close friends, to the envy of many that vied for Hikari’s attention. However, whereas Hikari had been relaxed and carefree, Eri is quiet, no-nonsense, and a strict follower of the law, focused on upholding the honor and integrity of her organization. However, she herself was not blind to the rumors and allegations of corruption among the Displacers, and although Hikari struggled to bring to light their severity and calls for investigation from the unions and parliament, Eri could only watch as each request was denied or failed with no follow-up. It is then that news of Hikari’s theft of the Bloodletting Blade and mass slaughter of their comrades quickly spreads through the mainland - news that drives Eri into denial and despair. What became of that promotion is unknown, but presently Eri remains within the ranks not only as an elite Displacer but as a licensed bounty hunter, in the wake of rumblings that the Demon King-in-Exile has selected a new Chosen Hero. Eri bides her time and carries out her duty as seen fit, determined to keep tabs on the time-lost stranger named Airi who is on the move with the return of the Majestic Twelve but root out the corruption of the Displacers from within - and, eventually, come to blows with Hikari, who is equally resolute in supplanting the Displacers from their seat of power.
#armi's art#armi's ocs#traditional art#traditional sketch#drawing#sketch#original characters#character design#if you had asked me if i would come up w/ a story that would go on to tackle police brutality#under the guise of the inversion of the demon king candidate trope i would've called you crazy#but the past several years have been crazy so here we are#we have the 2020 riots to thank for changing my mind on making rochelle a villain that would inevitably kill her off#to making her into an anti-hero/anti-villain that cares deeply for bringing justice to the poor & downtrodden#but also absolutely willing & ready to throw down against the rich the elite & the very political bodies that keep the cycle of abuse going#in that manner eri is not much different save that she is in a much more dangerous position in remaining among the displacers#to fight the corruption from within even though there are also displacers that are fighting alongside her to change the system#hikari OTOH believes the displacers are too far gone to change from within & that an outside force must enact change#and carry on the duty placed upon them when they formed in the wake of the rift war#which in daemon familiar's canon will cause a 2v1 to inevitably erupt#and eventually become a 2v2 when airi aligns with eri - albeit for her own reasons a'la continue to find the demon king-in-exile#in reality no one is the antagonist - just ppl w/ different views on how the system should be properly utilized#especially when demons and familiars come into play among humanity#honestly i surprised myself w/ that development LMAO#i can't say much about who rochelle & eri would embody IRL#but i always likened hikari to be a feminine cross between frank serpico & adrian schoolcraft#honestly looking back on it now initially conceiving rochelle as a villain leaves a poor taste in my mouth#she is not a bad person by any means#however i wanted an antagonist that would openly challenge airi's ideals#as both displacer and the demon king's hero#if there was anybody that would fit the bill it would be rochelle
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veganineden · 9 months
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On the Evolution of “Happily Ever After” and Why “Nothing Lasts Forever”
A reflection inspired by Good Omens 2
One of my favorite Tumblr posts on the second season of Good Omens 2 was actually not about the series at all, but our reaction to it, primarily the ending. @zehwulf wrote, “I think a lot of us—myself included—got a little too comfortable with assuming [Aziraphale and Crowley would] work on their issues right away post-Armageddon.” We did the work for them through meta, fanfiction, fanart, and building a plethora of headcanons. Who among us AO3-surfing fans didn’t read and love Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm?
In the 4 long years since season one was released, we did more than seek to understand and repair rifts between two fictional beings: we were forced to reckon with ourselves too. We faced a global pandemic, suffered traumatizing losses and isolation, and were forced to really and truly look into the face of our atrocities-ridden and capitalistic world. The mainstream rise of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice work, and our participation in this work, showed us that the systems in place were built to oppress and harm most of us, and they are. 
So, what does this have to do with the evolution of “happily ever after”? 
My friend put it best in a conversation we had following the season finale, when she pointed out a shift in media focus. The “happy end” in old stories about wars and kingdoms used to be “we killed the evil old king and put a noble young king in his place and now citizens can live in peace” and we’re transitioning into a period of “we tore down the whole fucking monarchy.” 
If we look at season one, written to follow the beats of a love story, it comforted us by offering a pretty traditional happy ending pattern: you get your fancy dinner with your special someone, the romantic music plays, and you have a place to call your own. Season one’s finale provided a temporary freedom for Aziraphale and Crowley, the “breathing room,” but it didn't solve the problem that was Heaven and Hell, or the agendas belonging to those systems of oppression. 
Is it good enough to keep our heads down, pretend the bad stuff isn’t happening, and live our own personal happy endings until we die? Moral quandaries aside, if you don't die (or if you care about the generations after you), then, like Aziraphale said, it “can’t last forever.” There’s a clear unpleasant end to the “happily ever after” that’s based on ignoring our problems– it’s the destruction of our relationships, and humanity. 
Ineffable Bureaucracy can go off into the stars because they do not care about humanity. 
You know who does?
Aziraphale. 
And Aziraphale knows that Crowley cares about humanity too. (He knows because Crowley was the one who proposed sabotaging Armageddon in the first place, who only invited him to the stars when he thought all was lost, because Crowley would save humanity if he thought it was possible, and Aziraphale knows Crowley has survived losing Everything before, and he will do all in his power so that Crowley does not need to experience that again.) 
In season one and two, we see how much they care about humanity, beyond their orders, to the point The Systems begin to frown at them. Aziraphale hears Crowley’s offer to run away together in the final episode of season two, to leave Earth behind, and just like the first time that offer was made in season one, he declines. He knows choosing only “us” is not a choice either of them can live with for the rest of eternity.
I believe season 3 will provide an opportunity to “dismantle the system,” but I don’t know how it will play out. I worry that Aziraphale has put himself in the now-dead trope of the “young noble king.” (I wish Crowley had told him why Gabriel was dismissed from his duties.) I worry that he would martyr himself as a sole agent for change. I worry that he doesn’t actually know how to dismantle anything by himself: because you can’t. He needs Crowley. He DOES. He needs Crowley, and Muriel, and other angels and demons and humans without fixed mindsets to help him. Only by learning to listen and making room at the table for all can they (and we) move past personal satisfaction to collective liberation. 
Crowley was right when he said that Aziraphale had discovered his “civic obligations.”
So, I think we will get our modern-day happy ending– and it’s going to involve a lot of pain and discomfort, communication, healing and teamwork– and in the end, it’ll all be okay. There will be a time for rest and a time for “us.” 
And most likely a cottage. 
“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
 - Maya Angelou
Support the SAG-AFTRA strike and other unions. Trust @neil-gaiman. Register to vote if you haven’t yet. Hold yourself and others accountable with compassion. Read books. Keep doing the work. Rest. Then watch Good Omens 2 again.  
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within-your-eyes-if · 9 months
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Within Your Eyes Intro Post
DEMO [Last Updated Jan. 24th, 2024]
You are a Warden, a monster hunter who has come to the Kingdom of Auris which has become the forefront runner in it’s acceptance of magic and supernatural alike within the West Highlands. But when strange happenstances occur, you are called upon not just because of skill, but also because of your condition. A condition you’ve lied about for last 12 years.
Unearth the secrets that magic holds as a new form is discovered.
Befriend or romance those who attempt to worm through the cracks of the mask you wear. Or will you fight to keep them at arms length?
Regardless of where your journey takes you, your feathered friend will be at your side. As he always has been.
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This story will be 18+ for the following reasons:
Explicit and erotic intimate scenes
Death, including of a child
Violence, blood and gore
Thoughts of suicide
Mentions of suicide
Self harm
Explicit language
Mental trauma
Horror elements
Feelings of being watched
NOTE: Your character will be pretending to have a disability (blindness), not because of a disorder but out of self preservation.
This list may be updated.
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You are running away from your past. As you take a this new job, you're forced to confront it. What vices do you use to cope? Will you learn to rely on others or will your raven be your only source of comfort? Will you feel guilty for your lies? Yours will be a journey of self-forgiveness, or maybe you'll only fall deeper into despair.
Play as a man, woman, or non-binary. Gay, straight, or bi.
Plenty of customization options from physical appearance to clothes.
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Φ Admos de Le Wren ─ Male | Draconian | Second-Born
Admos, the Dragon Lord of Auris, ascended to the throne following a devastating conflict with his father, bypassing his older brother's claim. This decision deepened the rift among his siblings. As he enters his fifth year as sovereign, Admos grapples with guilt and uncertainty about his role in the family's discord. Will you help him find clarity or fuel his doubts?
Φ Lyth/Lyari de Le Wren ─ Gender Selectable | Draconian | Tenth-Born
Ly took on the role of Viceroy/Vicereine in Auris and became their brother Admos's Right Hand, playing a vital part in the kingdom's recovery after a conflict with their father. However, an incident they triggered over a year and a half ago almost led to another war, casting doubt on their suitability for their position and their aid to their brother. Will you help Ly grapple with their past actions and uncertainties about their role as Viceroy/Vicereine, or will their internal conflicts remain unresolved?
Φ Leese/Lea van Laere ─ Gender Selectable | Human | Vampire
Born into nobility, Lee's life as the child of prominent figures in Lenia took an unexpected turn when they were turned into a vampire. Forced to leave their home, Lee now wrestles with their new identity, desperately seeking meaning in their existence and if it's worth maintaining.
Is Lee a monster consumed by instinct, or can you help them reclaim their humanity?
Φ Xiang Xiaowen/Xiaodan ─ Gender Selectable | Human
Xiao, an ambassador dispatched to Auris to aid the Dragon Lord in Council matters, fought hard to secure their role. Serving as an unofficial advisor, they frequently share insights to assist Admos. Yet their unwavering dedication to obtaining this position hints at a deeper motivation. Perhaps they will reveal it to you.
Φ Gabriel Duarte ─ Gender Selectable | Human
Assigned to you as an assistant of sorts, the recently knighted guard is searching for their place within the Order. Perhaps their new mission will set them on a path for glory, or sink them beneath the turmoils it takes to obtain.
Φ Hestia ─ She/They | Elf? | Witch
Even the most kind have their secrets.
Φ ???
Poly Routes: Lyth/Lyari and Gabriel | Leese/Lea and Gabriel | Xiaowen/Xiaodan and Hestia
Love Triangle: Admos and ???
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FAQ
Romance Information Post
Ko-Fi
Tumblr Asks are disabled for the time being.
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WYE will always be free with chapters released once they are finished.
This is a planned trilogy.
Thank you for reading and for your support! ♥
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class1akids · 9 months
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Let me cry how important it is to me that it is Natsuo who is shielding Shouto in the new chapter.
Natsuo was the last sibling and Todoroki family member introduced into the story - him and Shouto are shown interacting the first time at the awkward family dinner after Endeavor's fight against Hood.
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Natsuo is also the family member who holds onto Touya's memory the strongest, so his open conflict with Endeavor gives us and Shouto an insight into the rift among the siblings (the earlier chapters focused on Shouto's history with his father and mother mostly).
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Natsuo not even knowing Shouto's favourite food becomes the symbol of the distance between them. They are virtual aliens living in the same house - their "could have been" sibling bond a collateral damage to Endeavor's abuse, Touya's rage and narrative that Natsuo held in his heart in his grief.
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This leads to Natsuo's own regret of not trying to confront Endeavor and Touya and of not trying to make them face each other, which also led to his personal guilt of choosing to never interact with his little brother, even when he could have.
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Shouto from his own side seems quite eager to bond with Natsuo and values his sincere feelings even if they are unpleasant as something positive and needed:
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and he is fiercely protective of his older brother.
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Shouto even adopts Natsuo's definition of normal sibling bonding as "Knowing each other's favourite food and enjoying noodles together" that he later extends to Touya.
I think it's worths bringing back here the School Briefs story from the 5th volume that delves into Natsuo's POV and elaborates his feelings of regret and guilt about failing his role as big brother to Shouto:
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I highlighted the more heartbreaking parts, but Natsuo goes through feelings of helpless anger about their broken family, the abuse he couldn't stop, but then also examining the things he could have but didn't and then finally moving onto the things he still can (like being involved in Shouto's life now going forward and bonding over things they can - making lumpy, screwed up soba together).
So Natsuo getting to be the person, the big brother to protect Shouto in this situation is not only deeply healing from Shouto's perspective, but also Natsuo's, who has done a lot in the family to keep Touya's memory alive, to start arguments that were needed to move forward and it also honors the bond Shouto and Natsuo built as a result of the healing they already started.
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dragonagecompanions · 1 month
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hello, this is my first request :) unsure if your still taking requests but I was wondering how the companions (maybe romanced maybe not) would react to finding out the Inquisitor has a dead kid? I think the only way the party would find out is in the fade via the fear demon, and then maybe the advisors find out on their own ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠∵⁠ ⁠)⁠┌
idk but I would be truly honored to see you answer this request, and even if not than thank you for reading over it <33
- 🍡
WARNINGS For CHILD LOSS YOI HAVE BEEN WARNED
Cassandra: When the fear demon, gleeful in it’s telling of their leader’s loss, reveals the truth the Seeker is…well, there are no words. Forcibly she is reminded of how they swayed, pale and weeping, when she had said there were no other survivors. Guilt churns low and deep at her own words, a year and more gone now, throwing that fact in their face as accusation. Throwing such a loss in their face and then demanding answers.
Throwing a calling at their feet and demanding leadership, never knowing what a loss they struggled through.
She fights all the harder for them, as if every enemy batted away from them is attempted absolution. Cassandra Pentaghast thought she understood grief in all its facets, but what does the loss of older brother and parents- expected losses if come too soon- stand before the loss of a child? Maker, how do they still breathe through it?
When they are free of the fade, she approaches only to offer apology. If they wish to speak of their loss she will listen, but only then. She has forced enough from them.
Varric: Shit. Just…shit. Here he is, going on for months about how this story is bad for heroes and how the Inquisitor is the main character and blathering on, and never saw it. Never saw the aching grief, because it was never shown. The only example he has, or is at least intimately familiar with, is Leandra Hawk and his own mother.
And as the Inquisitor had never fallen into drink or taken to blaming whoever was closest to them for things outside of anyone’s control there had been no sign for Varric to catch on to. And it makes him feel…almost dirty. Stained with his own intentions, blithely going on while their leader had lost their kid.
He doesn’t bring it up to them, doesn’t know how, but Skyhold’s resident author is absolutely the own who tells Josephine as soon as they tumble out of the fade. That raven missive is a short and brutal telling, far from his normal goings on, and his guilt is manifold in it.
Solas: The Dread Wolf is not so unattached from the world as to not consider the losses suffered at the conclave, but for the most part -when he did turn his mind to them- they were mostly academic. A balance of power, and the loss of so many leaders among both chantry and mages a destabilizing force for his future efforts. Numbers laid cooly on a chart, beads on an abacus. The fortunes of war laid bare.
But more than one parent lost a child in that terrible moment, and siblings mourned. Children bereft, friends torn asunder, lovers left to weep alone for their loves. Listening to the fear demon enumerate the inquisitor’s loss magnifies the enormity of what happened, and though he will undoubtedly be the source of much worse for a moment the Dread Wolf cannot breathe.
It passes, of course, and when they leave the fade the rift mage dies his best not to carry those emotions out with him. This world is not to blame for his actions, for the destruction of his world, but he must restore it and so they must bear the cost. It is not fair to them, and it will be long months until he can be east about his plans.
In the interim, he dares to approach the inquisitor only once about their loss. He is there as a listening ear in the silence of his rotunda if they wish to speak of their sorrow. Or if they wish only a silent companion, he will direct the kindest spirits he can find to guard their dreams and remain at their side as long as he can.
Blackwall: Maker forbid. For a moment Skyhold’s would be warden is swamped by the images of Callier’s children, dead under tiny shrouds beside the ruined carriage at his command. Too many children fall victim to the machinations of their elders and with none to protect them from the fall out, but for all that most of Blackwall’s experience has been from the other side.
Being confronted with the parent who had lost a child, confronted with the knowledge that they had told none of them and had suffered under the burden alone was staggering. Damn it, they had all laid burdens at the Inquisitor’s feet and expected answers, demanded decisions and leadership in a word gone mad— and none had known what they had lost.
He doesn’t know what to say or how to act and instead channels everything into the fight to flee the fade. Rainier would be too much the coward to speak to their leader in the aftermath, but Blackwall- older and hopefully wiser from his own griefs- will offer quiet condolences and whatever aid he can. If they need to speak of it be will listen. And if not there is soft wood and chisel enough to grind out any feelings if that is what they need.
Vivienne: Children had never been in her destiny. As a mage, even one so elevated as to be all but free of the constraints of the circle, motherhood was forbidden to her. Any child of her womb would be sacrificed to the Chantry, given to a family deemed ‘more worthy’ to raise it.
And as a mistress, no matter how deeply the love between them bloomed, Bastian could never have given her such a blessing. He had children— an illegitimate child, and a mage child at that, would have been too great a weapon against him.
And so she had put it out of her mind, never allowed herself to consider or imagine what a son might look like, how a daughter might smile. To think of it would be a loss too great to contemplate—or so she had thought. Met with the active loss and overwhelming grief that their leader must feel, Madame de Fer is suddenly glad not to know how such a burden might rest on her soul.
Could she be so calm a leader as the Inquisitor, while bleeding out inside? Vivienne does not know, and that…well, terrifies her in a way little has. But she is not called iron for nothing, and so when all is calm again she will go the Herald and ask simply and plainly what she might do for them. If the answer is nothing she will abide by it. And if there is something that might in any way assuage their grief then she will ensure they have it.
Dorian: Well, that at least explains the Inquisitor’s uncharacteristically violent outburst, when Halward Pavus had made his way to Ferelden. Upon hearing the possible consequences of the blood magic ritual the Inquisitor had laid into the Magister, flaying with words when they could not use violence. Even the Pavus paterfamilias had seemed shaken by the diatribe, and Dorian had felt championed.
He is not so shallow as to feel betrayed by the knowledge of what terrible grief must have driven such an impassioned defamation of character, but can instead only ache for his friend’s loss. They must have been a wonderful parent, and in a quiet time later will gather his courage to tell them so.
Sera: It doesn’t really register in the moment, so great is her own fear of the Fade and it’s denizens, but later it will simply break the Red Jenny’s heart. Their leader lost a true little one, and still managed to bring themselves to protect the rest of the little people no matter their age.
Like Blackwall she will either offer distraction or uncharacteristic silence in comfort, baked goods an offering that feels too…personal for such a gaping loss. But her admiration for them grows exponentially.
The Iron Bull: Public, corporate grief is rare among the Qun. Not forbidden, exactly, but when everyone is given a role it also implies that every person is inherently replaceable in that role. As Koslun said, the tide rises and falls and things must work forward toward peace.
But the death of a child is different. Whether disease or violence or simple accident, losing an imereki is a tragedy. The Tamassran mourns, the others in their care mourn, and all those in the sphere of the lost one are permitted some little allowance for the loss. Things cannot grind to a halt- this is why parents are separated from children, to ensure the deep emotional bonds that are anathema to the Qun- but there is not simple acceptance without acknowledgement of the loss.
Not even that was given to the Inquisitor. It’s east to see the shock of the others even through his own fear, and the knowledge infuriates Bull enough to get him through the Fade. Their leader lost a child, and no one was there for them. Instead piled on the whole world and its imminent loss on their shoulders. It’s disgraceful.
Later, when Adamant is pacified and they return to Skyhold, he will pull them aside. It will be painful and it will be slow, and whether they need alcohol or pain or even the clinical breakdown that bondage and sex can only give-with their explicit consent- he will help them bleed the pain and begin the grieving process.
Cole: The pain was too big for him to help, the threads caught up in pain and joy and guilt and anger and terrible despair. He didn’t even have the words to describe it to others, and so had kept silent.
If they need him later he will help, but this loss is too big for a spirit unsure of how to act.
Cullen: Maker’s breathe. How could they…why did they not…Damn it, how could he not realize?! He had all but thrust the entire inquisition on a parent who had been robbed the chance to even bury their child, let alone mourn them.
Varric’s report rocks him to the core, and the commander in truth does not know what to do. If the rest of the inner circle has it well in hand he will simply work to make sure their leader has less in their plate. If they wish to discuss it with them, he is there and if not…
He hardly has the words anyway.
Josephine: She weeps over the missive, when it arrives. Their inquisitor has been hiding the worst of loses from them, putting on such a brave face to do so much. Like Cullen she works to make sure they have less to do when they return, but does pull them aside briefly to awkwardly hug them and ask if they want a memorial somewhere private in Skyhold.
Leliana: She knew. She knew from only a few days after, when her spies brought her everything there was on the Herald. And even The Nightingales Heart could ache for such a loss, but Leliana took her queues from the Herald and simply never discussed it. That does not change now— she will follow their lead.
Mod Fereldone
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cherryslyce · 1 year
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Like Clockwork | Theodore Nott
Synopsis: You meet Theodore as a child, but the promises and laughter of your youth are left to be forgotten as war approaches.
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Pairing: Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw!Reader
Notes: A shorter story that is kind of different from the formatting of my usual writing, but I'm quite happy with the finished result. This one will be a little painful.
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The first time you meet Theodore Nott, you’re seven, still with a penchant for mischief and a habit for knocking your knees against the soft grass. It’s by pure accident that you stumble upon the stony-eyed boy who carried himself with an air of heavy responsibility.
He is visibly burdened. Because at a young age, he was already drifting helplessly in the sea of expectations and danger irreparably encroached into the veins of every Nott heir. Perfectly pureblooded, intelligent enough to know their role, but obedient enough to never question it.
At a young age, you still have your saccharine smiles and lackadaisical walk. It’s improper, your mother would scold, but unlike the steely-gazed boy’s parents, your parents carried little heat in their words. 
It is during an annual get together among the powerful pureblood families that you are positively certain that Theodore Nott was just the friend for you. 
His serious demeanor and watchful eyes left the other heirs unnerved and uninterested in being around him. So when you bound up to the boy, dandelion in hand, extending the sad little stem with an assuring grin, Theodore is sure you’ll be his little solace.
As the years flicker by, your bond only grows stronger, the shared nights stargazing and reading with the flashlights your house elves supplied causing the both of you to become inseparable. 
By 11, you’re both bouncing off the walls in excitement. Theodore barely has time to step out of your floo network before you’re nearly tackling him in a hug. To the both of you, Hogwarts was a place where you could both hang out without a time limit, and without the watchful eyes of your parents. 
The question of Houses and sortings doesn’t surface until you’re sat in your train compartment with an enthusiastic Blaise and a smug Draco. Your indifference to potentially not getting into Slytherin becomes the central topic of conversation between you four the whole way there. 
Theodore promises that it wouldn’t change your friendship, that house colors and its unity would never surpass your tender years of growing up together. 
He keeps his promise as you’re sorted into Ravenclaw. 
By second year, your parents have a falling out with Theodore’s. Theo’s parents seemed to turn like day and night, no longer comfortable with their heir floundering around with a non-Slytherin. Your parents back you, and as they pull away from the former tight-knit circle of dark pureblood families—they begin to question the ways of the Dark Lord. 
Theodore privately disregards his parents' letters, even making it a point to burn them in front of you. In public, Theodore has to play the role of an obedient heir, so you both stop partnering up in your classes and allow everyone to believe that you’re no longer friends.
You were not deterred by the change, understanding Theo’s precarious position and understanding that as long as in private it stayed all the same, you could keep the front up in public. 
It is only when third year rolls around that you begin to feel a rift settle between the both of you. The summer was spent with no contact with each other, even by letter, and the school year is filled with awkward little pauses in your conversations. 
You make friends with Susan Bones and Gryffindor’s Golden Trio to fill the gap. Theo begins to become a regular presence in Draco’s circle of friends, and he also begins to avoid your pointed glances when they all jeer at Harry. 
The rift grows into a cavernous berth by fourth year. Harry’s unceremonious reaping into the Triwizard Tournament seemed like jet fuel for the bigoted, blabbering engine that was Draco’s mouth. Theodore never steps in, hovering to show his silent support for the Malfoy heir. 
Your disappointment hangs heavy over your heart, yet, you soon force yourself to forget it as the tournament wraps up with the delivery of Cedric Diggory’s body from the maze. Nothing left of the kind, free-spirited boy—only an unseeing, glassy stare that would haunt you for the rest of the summer nights. 
Harry’s cries about Voldemort’s resurrection spurs storms of scrutiny and hatred, venomous words piling on your friend as you watch helplessly. No one was willing to believe him. 
But as the year ends and you see an uncertain Draco stride alongside a pale-faced Theodore, you’re sure many people agree with Harry in the shadows. 
Fifth year wipes away your carefree grins and echoing laughter, replacing the pieces of your old-self with fragments of someone unfamiliar. You’re prone to bouts of anger and episodes of self-withdrawal, unable to shake away the chronic stupor. 
Your stormy tides only grow in power as Umbridge begins to gain gradual power at Hogwarts. This only leads to an outcome that has you bonding with Harry over your shared torture in the woman’s office. 
Fifth year sees Theodore sporting uncharacteristic worry on his face, his cold eyes drawn to follow your every move. 
The strain that ripped your friendship apart at the seams, seems to disappear one night after one of your detentions. As you are walking back to your dorm, clutching your bleeding, irritated hand, a firm grip hauls you into one of the dark alcoves of the castle. 
You draw your wand in surprise, and you only lower it once you see the culprit, your heart bleeding over again. 
Theodore doesn’t speak as he gently applies Murtlap Essence to your wounds, running his thumb around the angry letters. And no words need to be exchanged as he’s pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you in his arms, a silent reassurance of his presence.
The rest of your fifth year plays out the same way. Your friendship with Theo was mending slowly, but surely, an unspoken understanding seeming to bridge the gap that tore you both apart for years. 
By the end of fifth year, you’re both meeting up often in the shadows of the castle, talking about nonsensical topics and sharing lingering touches. The ache that finds residence in your heart only seems to persist as you long for more. 
The last week of fifth year, an owl you recognize as belonging to Theodore’s father, swoops into the hall along with the other owls, dropping a prim envelope onto the boy’s empty plate. You see Theodore’s eyes turn stormy, his grip going white on the paper, and he only tears his gaze away when Millicent Bulstrode pats his shoulder. Your stomach sinks. 
The last week of fifth year has you in a whirlwind of fury again as Theodore stops showing up in your meeting spots, returning to completely ignoring your existence. 
You’re left heartbroken and confused. 
Your answers arrive after a long summer filled with endless night terrors and heart ache. As you sit in the dining hall at the beginning of your sixth year, you have to fight back the stinging in your eyes as you hear a few girls whispering near you. 
“Didn’t you hear? Nott and Bulstrode are betrothed, my mum says the ceremony is next summer.” 
Sixth year is filled with constant reminders of the couple, loneliness flooding your lungs and threatening to drag you beneath the surface. You’re barely staying afloat when Harry approaches you with the burden of war, something you’re readily jumping into to get your mind away from the Slytherin boy. 
When Dumbledore falls from the astronomy tower and is pronounced dead, you feel your whole world flip. 
You have little time to panic before a familiar pair of hands is guiding you to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Theodore’s words come out rushed and shaky, but you manage to snap back to reality long enough to understand him. 
Theo is running his hands down your cheeks, pressing his face closer to yours as tears collect in his eyes. 
The engagement between him and Millicent was a front, he needed to do it to please his father– to avoid getting marked by Voldemort. Draco is not as fortunate. Theodore admits to helping the Malfoy heir with smuggling in the death eaters, but he rushed away immediately to make sure you were safe.
The news has you staring up at him in confusion and he begins to profusely whisper words of apologies, hugging your shocked body to his.
As you both hold each other in the darkness of the forest, you know that chaos was raining upon the world outside the safety of the towering trees. 
It is at the end of your sixth year in the forest when you and Theo share your first kiss, words of promises and apologies whispered between you two. 
Seventh year has you hunting for horcruxes with your friends, shouldering the burden in order to free the Wizarding World from the hellscape created by Voldemort. When your journey brings you back to the castle, your group splits up to cover more ground. Harry leaves for Voldemort, and you leave in search of your own Slytherin. 
Your reunion is nothing short of tears and relieved touches, hearts drumming loudly at the adrenaline of war and the joy of finding each other. Theodore presses kisses to your face, unbothered by the shocked looks you both receive from other students. 
In that moment, it felt like you were both children again. 
It’s 10 minutes after Voldemort arrives and all hell breaks loose, rubble raining from meters above, bodies dropping just as quickly. 
You can’t find Theodore anywhere, but you promise to look for him once it all ends, no matter who comes out victorious. 
You don’t find him.
It’s 5 months after the Battle of Hogwarts, rebuilding the castle takes a collective effort, and some surviving older students settle for odd jobs, others deciding to finish their last year at the fractured castle. 
It’s 5 months after the battle when Theodore finds you. 
His left ring finger is bare, eyes watering as he walks. The flower in his hand spins around as he nervously fiddles with his fingers. 
He promised that he would find you, and he did. 
The leaves cascade in waves of bright green, spring rolling in and highlighting the era of change to come now that Voldemort is gone.
Theo sits on the grass, his flower extended from his hand, and he lets his tears fall for the first time in the new era. 
A promised change is coming to the Wizarding World, and things will get better for the war-hardened citizens. 
Yet, it doesn’t feel that way, not when Theodore has to kneel down and place the lonesome flower on your polished grave--not when he has no anchor to keep him grounded in the new world. 
And he suddenly remembers when you were both seven and naive, feeling unobstructed by the fears of the real world. 
It is when he’s seven that he vows to protect you, no matter the cost. He vowed he would burn the world down to preserve your joyful smiles and warm eyes. 
But it was the fires that he lit which consumed you in the end. 
So, when he’s 18, Theodore Nott closes himself away from the world, and he swears to himself he would never make the same mistakes again. 
When Theodore Nott is 18, he resumes carrying the weight of his burdens and guilt alone. 
When Theo is 18, he wishes you were 18 with him too.
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masterlist
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snoutbleed · 25 days
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Telling a story takes guts.
Forensic photographer Sören Heinrich can’t ignore the nausea bubbling in his throat when documenting someone's darkest day. He loses sleep over the fates he captures but is drawn to the purpose vested in his grisly role. When blood-slicked prints become Sören's next subject, he finds a message that blurs the line between his personal and professional life.
"This is where I’ve been. Don’t follow."
Unable to fathom his long-lost brother’s crimson handwriting, Sören descends into the criminal underworld for answers. The young boar's inner demons guide him toward a morbid self-reckoning.
Direktion 2 has their work cut out for them.
Crime is on the rise in post-reunification Berlin. Among the cases, the Polizeidirektorate in the city's westernmost boroughs is baffled by freak murders at the hands of denizens without motive.
In the shadow of the Berlin Wall, the crime wave takes a supernatural twist behind the lock of a post-Soviet puzzle.
Camera flashes at the crime scenes reveal gruesome secrets stirring in the shadows.
Unravel the conspiracy in #LONG STORY SHORT.
#The Filing Cabinet -- scan the profiles of those in the know. #Bloodstained Polaroids -- view the images of lives gone astray. #Evidence Board -- learn the details of secrets best kept. #Mystery Signals -- behold the lore of the mind melt. Face the music in the official Long Story Short playlist!
Everyone gathers toward the Abschnitt.
There are several Polizei Berlin stations like the Abschnitt, but everyone tied to this supernatural symphony ends up near this Spandau station particularly.
Sören Heinrich -- ( boar | tag | bio ) The black sheep of the Abschnitt. Sören’s abrasive nature keeps his co-workers at bay, a division widened by their western ideals clashing with his East German upbringing. He distances himself from the station through tight focus on his job, always the first to arrive at a crime scene. Don Jae Hale -- ( elk | tag | bio ) The silver-tongued Kriminalhauptkommissar of the Abschnitt. Hale is quick to dismiss the killings up until his leadership comes under siege by the paranoid public. Umeya Romanova -- ( fox | tag | bio ) The Bundeskriminalamt detective sent to assist with the Abschnitt’s mounting cases. Rumor says Umeya is there for more than the mystery, but her motives veiled by a callous attitude. Marieke Reiss -- ( rabbit | tag | bio ) The star psychology student barely escaped a killing. Now a key witness, Marieke can’t rest easy knowing she could be the next victim, driving her to take matters into her own hands. Reinhardt Müller -- ( donkey | tag | bio ) The Abschnitt’s disgraced ace detective, worn down and living in the grimy corners of Berlin. When crime spikes, Reinhardt tries to relive his “glory days" of detective work. Ukko Heinrich -- ( boar | tag | bio ) The crime lord defends his territory with brutal but firm methods. He's sworn to his found family, the country's political rift making him protective to a fault. Vorwitz Albrecht -- ( bat | tag | bio ) A gardener with good banners but bad morals. Vorwitz's unsavory career choices put him in the Abschnitt, but he finds a way out with Sören.
Entropy knows no bounds.
Stop, look and listen: stories are everywhere. Behold my settings.
Face more madness in #TALES GONE STALE.
LAID TO WASTE -- an abomination stirs in the bayou, its secrets poisoning a township. THE WASTED LIVES -- a group of galactic fugitives embark on a never-ending getaway on a runaway cruiser. (Links need an update. Stay tuned.)
The mind behind the melancholy.
ACHTUNG! This blog is 18+ for gore and suggestive content!
You can call me Dissy (she/her). I'm a writer with stories and ideas always bouncing inside my head, especially this one. Feel free to ask me about myself, my writing, my characters, or anything else. I promise you I can bark up a tree for hours.
I also do Polaroid photography: check out @hogrot for my shots!
I also encourage comments, critique, etc. about this setting. I want to pace myself while writing this, therefore I have all the time I need to refine this where I can. I don't expect this story to come out for a while anyway, especially as I run it through critiques. Hell, this pet project wouldn't have come into fruition thanks to the feedback of some incredible friends.
Shoutout to PYRY for doing character design and art for this setting, as well as giving his ideas and characters for the Heinrich plotline. Go check out his killer art. This story wouldn't exist without him.
Another shoutout to @tsanapi, an incredible artist who drew the art pictured above. Her sense of style is so keen.
And a final thanks to you, the reader, for tuning into the mind melt. This signals wouldn't have picked up without you.
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catulhu333 · 9 months
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Bahamut and Tiamat were aspects of Io/Asgorath in early 2nd edition of AD&D lore?
...as well being the two key archetypes influencing all dragons, and in 1st edition of AD&D, the only gods of dragons?
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2014/2015 "Rage of Dragons" miniatures of Tiamat and Bahamut
Wile changes to Bahamut and Tiamat (and deific dragon lore in general) in 5th edition (were Bahamut and Tiamat are the supreme, and only real draconic gods), and to a degree 4th edition (were Bahamut and Tiamat were 2 halves of Io), were controversial; these changes are actually based on far older lore, that was changed mid 2nd edition, with 1992's Monster Mythology and further on.
In 1st edition of Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, Bahamut and Tiamat were the only dragon gods, with worship by dragons being split between them, as seen in 1984 article "Dragons and their deities" in Dragon #86: "Evil dragons worship Tiamat, and good dragons worship Bahamut. That is, for all practical purposes, the extent of common knowledge about the way dragons worship their deities."
The divinity of of two was first outright affirmed in 1980 in "Leomund's Tiny Hut: Rearranging and Redefining the Mighty Dragon" in Dragon #38; with Tiamat kinda earlier in the original 1978's Monster Manual, were she was presented among the Lords of Nine.
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Miniatures of Bahamut (or as named in the catalog the Platinum Dragon) and Tiamat (or as named in the catalog the Spectral Dragon), from Grenadier Models 1990 catalogue, originally from the 1989 Dragon of the Month II line from 1989. Special thanks @oldschoolfrp, thanks to who I know of this lines existence. Their original post here. I recommend checking them out.
Paladine and Takhisis from Dragonlance, also debuting in 1984, were often identified with Bahamut (Paladine) and Tiamat (Takhisis). It's rather ambiguous though - the creator of both, Jeff Grubb believing this, but writers of Dragonlance novels, and main architects of the setting, Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman (who basically gave them personality and story), believing them as similar, but separate characters/deities.
Official publications either suggested a connection, or stated them to be the same (as well as Bahamut and Tiamat gaining traits of Paladine and Takhisis, like being siblings, and in past, lovers), with 5th edition (with 2021's Fizban's Treasury of Dragons), stating them to be the same.
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Constellations of Krynn, in the center Takhisis (left) and Paladine (right) opposing each other, the Gilean' constellation between them. From 1984's "DL5: Dragons of Mystery".
Still, Paladine on Krynn (the world Dragonlance is set in) is/was the leader of the Gods of Good, and Takhisis is/was the leader of the Gods of Evil, and were among the most powerful deities of the setting, equaled only by their brother Gilean and second only to the High God and Chaos.
According to 1989's "Player's Guide to Dragonlance, the two together created the first dragons: "Paladine is Father of Good and Master of Law. During the Age of Dreams, Paladine led the gods in creation. Paladine and Takhisis, Queen of Darkness, infused the raw fury of chaos with form and purpose, creating the first material beings— dragons. Takhisis, jealous the first creations were not entirely hers, corrupted the chromatic dragons to evil. Paladine replaced his fallen children with the good, metallic dragons, but Takhisis’s act began the rift between good and evil."
This origin of dragons on Krynn evolved overtime though, with some changes, but I won't elaborate on this here.
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1990's Draconomicon
The draconic pantheon was first expanded with 1990's Draconomicon, though oddly, Bahamat and Tiamat are not among the list of Draconic deities, at least seemingly.
The book instead presents Bahamut and Tiamat instead as seemingly archetypal forms of all dragons (even indeed, the twin Platonic forms of all dragons), even their gods, all of whom (with one exception) are their "pale reflections": " And here the conversation must turn to dragons, for in these species the diffusion theory seems to be the only suitable explanation for their wide-spread existence. Dragons are the only creatures for which there exist archetypal forms. In dragonkind, these forms are Bahamut, the Platinum Dragon, and Tiamat, the Chromatic Dragon. All of the core species of dragonkind the good aligned metallic dragons and the evil-aligned chromatic dragons (ignoring for a moment those fringe species like crystal dragons) seem to be pale reflections of their archetypal forms, displaying some but not all of that archetypes characteristics. For example, a red dragon possesses some but not all of the characteristics attributed to Tiamat, while a gold dragon possesses some but not all of the characteristics attributed to Bahamut. Indulging in mathematical language for a moment, each species of dragon seems to be a subset of properties belonging to one or other of the archetypes. Or, conversely, each archetype seems to possess a superset of the properties possessed by the appropriate class of dragonkind. Some sages truly believe this observation to be representative of the truth of the matter. According to this theory, the very existence of the two archetypal forms Bahamut and Tiamat is responsible for the existence of dragons throughout the multiverse. In metaphorical language, dragons are the shadows that the archetypes cast across the planes. As shadows are, in a sense, subsets of the creatures casting them as they must be, since shadows are two-dimensional so are the shadows of the dragon archetypes subsets of those archetypes characteristics and powers."
Two of the dragon gods, Lendys and Tamara, as Platinum Dragons, seem to be even closer to the archetype of Bahamut, both being platinum dragons themselves, but still lesser than him.
In the same book, there is also mentioned the oldest and highest draconic god, Asgorath the World-Shaper, later identified with Io. Asgorath is stated to to be creator of dragons, and the universe (in the sense of seemingly all existence), at least according to dragons.
But, the myth in the same sourcebook (as found in-universe in the Book of the World, a written down red dragon myth, suggests Asgorath is Tiamat: "It is easy to speculate, based on this myth. The plural inflection of the word breath might be taken as implying multiple heads; the Thorass word for renegade is bahmat. It seems almost too close a correlation can Asgorath be Tiamat and the Renegade be Bahamut?"
This is further alluded in Asgorath's description: "Thus, reds believe that Asgorath is Chaotic Evil as implied in the Book of the World mentioned at the beginning of the chapter while bronzes believe Asgorath is Lawful Good."
Suggesting that like red dragons see/perceive Asgorath as Tiamat, Bronze (and other good dragons) would see the World-Shaper as Bahamut. And that the two "archetypal dragons" are themselves seemingly aspects/parts/avatars of Asgorath. Which is further suggested together with Bahamut's description in Draconomicon: "Sages continue to debate the true nature of Bahamut. Is he the archetype of all good dragonkind, the ideal of which all other dragons are merely shadows? Is he an avatar of a greater deity?"
This is quite obviously an inspiration for Io being split in ancient times into Bahamut and Tiamat in 4th edition/Nerath lore. As well as in "Fizban's Treasury of Dragons", presenting Bahamut and Tiamat as the origin of all dragons, and their forms, it even also using allusions to platonic forms, and shadows of higher reality. As well as Bahamut and Tiamat creating the original universe (that split into the multiverse), like Asgorath was stated to.
Io was first introduced in 1992's Monster Mythology, if very probably taking inspiration from Asgorath (with whom he is directly identified in the book), as well as perhaps Krynn's High God. Io is also stated there to be believed by dragons to be their creator, and of all of existence. As well repeating Platonic and Gnostic ideas from Draconomicon about the world being a shadow of a higher, truer reality: "We Dragon-sages make a distinction between the Two Voids; the First Void, wherein only Io had existence, and the Shadow Void, where Io's willingly shed blood created the potential for existence and creation to come into being. Most non-dragon races only know of the Shadow Void, and they do not know of the earlier time outside time when only the Ninefold Dragon existed."
Monster Mythology though, makes Bahamut and Tiamat somewhat lesser in status, making them Lesser Gods, though only Io (as a Greater God) and Chronepsis (an Intermediate God) are above them, the other two gods (Faluzure and Aesterinian), being on the same level of power. Still though, it is a visible downgrade from their grand role in Draconomicon, and of their counterparts (Paladine and Takhisis) on Krynn. Monster Mythology is also the the first to make Bahamut and Tiamat explicitly siblings and "intended mates".
1998's "Cult of the Dragon" sourcebook, combined the draconic pantheons mentioned described in Draconomicon and Monster Mythology, often identifying/conflating some deities between the two (notably Asgorath and Io, though that was done before). Though this also resulted in a seeming further downgrade in status of Bahamut and Tiamat, them being still Lesser Gods (and Bahamut identified with Xymor, made as possible child of Lendys and Tamara), while including multiple Intermediate Gods (Astilabor, Garyx, Kereska, Lendys, Null as the Guardian of the Lost/Chronepsis, Tamara and Zorquan).
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toxictoxicities · 7 months
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Royalty
Somethin somethin royal designs between me and some of my besties with our iterator sonas for shits n giggles
Rift Among Stories: @revolvius Ambitious Rationality: @toxictoxicities
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gentlemean · 6 months
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I know the fandom loves throwing ideas around for a hypothetical adaptation, so why not chime in.
I think most of us agree that an animated series would be better than the dreaded life-action adaptation. Regardless of format, any adaptation would have to somehow preserve the peculiarities, the absolute whiplash, and way the narration shapes the narrative. In my opinion, an animated series could do this quite well.
We start off with Gideon the Ninth. It's shown in heavily stylized 3d animation (think, at least Arcane-style), with strong contrasts in the colors. The Ninth house is dark and desaturated, the lights in the eyes of animated skeletons and Gideon's hair positively burn among the dreary surroundings. Then, getting to the First, the world is vibrant and bright, lots of elaborate light refractions in the broken windows of Canaan house.
Characters are accompanied not only by small, individual musical themes, but also by visual clues. Each house might have distinct little particles and effects that appear in scenes in which the respective characters act. They might synergize in scenes where characters cooperate or contrast in scenes in which they fight. (example: the Niners are always accompanied by shadows, ink-blots staining the scenery around them. The Third are too graceful to be real, all of their animations use exaggerated smear-frames in overly grandiose flourishes. When Naberius fights Gideon, his strikes stir the shadows around Gideon, cleaving bright rifts into the inkstained dark.)
The story is told as we know it, without reordering or large ommissions. One thing we see not nearly often enough in modern television is actual narration in the background. We don't need it for all of the visuals and happenings, but so much of gtn profits from Gideon's thoughts and feelings.
A few scenes look differently though. When Gideon allows Harrow to take over her vision, the animation style changes. It gets a bit more abstract, the surroundings are textured like oil paintings, and Gideon herself has trails of smoke and ink following her movements. This is how they see the world together, and it is reflected again at the very end of the first book, when Harrow ascends. Except this time there's no borrowing, it's something deeper. The world is painted, more abstractly this time, and the characters appear almost like paper cuts.
And then the fun begins. We leave gtn and start htn. There is no more Gideon in our narrative, and yet there is her narration. As in the first series we retain parts of the narration, and it is her voice - mostly. Now, this is a source of great confusion in the book, right? The series would have to make it explicit that it is her voice, but it can have fun with it nevertheless. Some words are garbled, overlapping, distorted. Sometimes, Harrow's voice seamlessly takes over the narration, drifting in and continuing, while still using Gideon's pronunciation and vocal flow.
The visuals, on the other hand - now, that's an entirely different thing. At this point we know what the world looks like when Gideon sees it and what it looks like when they see it together. htn gives us two exciting new variations: 'Harrow with very little Gideon' for the Mithraeum story, and 'Harrow entirely without Gideon' for the river bubble. In the main, physical-world story we retain broad strokes of thick oil paint for the world around Harrow. The characters are too clean on a messy background, with some of the paint steadily bleeding into their shapes. The paint seems almost like it is an active participant in the narrative, crawling across inconvenient truths to blot them out, staining everyone but keeping it's distant from John, who therefore remains clearer than clear, shiny and bright, squeaky clean and lemon scented. But then there's the river bubble, and we get full Harrow, with a teeny bit of Wake. The scenery around the characters is vague and misty, swathes of color arrange into a distorted background like ink being poured into water. The entire scenery bleeds color and light into the surroundings of dark, barely saturated characters. It breaks at the seams when the uncomfortably realistic fleshy pipes wind through the walls, something too concrete for a tearstained world.
Towards the final act, we see a few changes: Abigail summons Nonius, and the shape language changes. Everything's still illustrated the way it was before, but the stark, desaturated characters in his proximity stop being mere dark blots in this scenery, and instead become almost comic-like. Their strikes and attacks are supported by respective action lines, their poses and moves adapt to the newly imposed genre conventions. Meanwhile, on the Mithraeum, Gideon is keeping the fires burning. We're almost back to the way we used to see the world in the beginning, Gideon's stark contrast and smooth environments. But there's the ink bleeding into the scenery from dark corners and bright red puddles, there's enough of Harrow here to stain the world.
And, well. We get to Nona. And Nona's world fundamentally isn't like the one the other's see. Nona's world is mismatched and chaotic and charmingly odd. Most of it is claymation, interspersed with some other materials. Cam's swords are real metal, the dust of New Rho fills the air, and most of the food is probably actual food that looks as dreadfully out of place in this world as it feels in Nona's mouth. There remains a touch of Harrow, expressive movements are exaggerated with her flowing ink, action lines like calligraphy. Of course, there are also the John chapters. Here, we get to have proper fun with the visuals. Let's recap: it's Harrow getting to experience a memory of Alecto, narrated by John. We already know Harrow's flowing colors that stain the backgrounds, and we get mixed medium animation with it: articulated plastic dolls, of course, with some natural materials (moss, wood, some metal scraps) as set dressing.
I'm still not entirely settled on the Nona Epilogue. As long as Alecto isn't out I'm not sure whether I want to keep in line with something from the next book, or whether it's its own thing. Until we know more: illuminated manuscript.
---
Well, that was more than I originally intended to write, but I've had those thoughts in my head basically since I've started the books, and they needed an outlet. There's plenty more ideas where those came from, please please talk to me. 'The Unwanted Guest' as an actual play, anyone? (When Cam makes contact with Babs, and the fight initiates, the camera zooms out from the now frozen claymation, revealing it's situated on a table in the front row of a theatre hall BTW)
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"Unwanted Guests" - Morpheus x Reader
[Spoilers for "Season of Mists"]
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{'Unwanted Guests: Crescendo' -> Where the night takes a different turn and Azazel reveals mortifying leverage}
[MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]
SUMMARY: Having received the key to Hell from Lucifer, Morpheus is visited by various emissaries from strange, faraway lands. More than the unwanted guests, Dream of the Endless is angered by their interest in his wife.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 3.1k
Looking out of one of the tall windows in the palace, you noticed that the ground was strangely far away. Shaking your head, you knew exactly what had gotten Morpheus in such a sour mood but, honestly, you never expected this bizarre course of events to affect him that much. Most of the time, when he said he wanted to be alone, it didn’t include you - the queen of Dreaming was always welcome by the king’s side. It was those rare occasions when he made a show of his desire for isolation that even your presence was hardly wanted. In no way was that insulting to you as it seemed quite natural to you to require true solitude once in a while. Despite that, there was another pressing matter that prompted you to disturb Morpheus’s much-needed peace - guests.
If you were only passing by and did not focus on finding him, it would have been easy to overlook Morpheus in one of the unbearably empty halls with granite arches and questionable sculptures. Dressed in a t-shirt, barefoot and sitting cross-legged on the floor, he appeared like a troubled teenager rather than an eldritch king of dreams and nightmares.
“Morpheus, someone’s at the entrance,” you called out to him in a meek voice, worried that the disturbance would spoil his mood further. “Quite a lot of someones, might I add.”
“Yes, Gripphon has already told me," Dream answered in a slightly irked tone.
“What’s going on?”
"We're having guests, beloved," he informed in a displeased tone. Morpheus let out a raspy, tired sigh and got up from the floor. "Uninvited guests, although I should have expected them to come."
You’ve never seen so many people in one place, especially at the palace. Gods, demons, angels, elves, wizards… It would have been hilarious if it wasn’t ridiculous in its reality. How strange was that thought - Odin the Allfather was as real as one can be and, at the moment, he was a guest in your kingdom. It sounded like a badly written fantasy novel. Whether it was the appearance of a fever dream or your unbearable curiosity, you ventured among the various emissaries, hoping to hear the most unbelievable stories while fulfilling your duty of a hospitable host. Morpheus had told you countless times that you didn’t have to ‘mingle’ with his guests because they all came just to speak with him but the opportunity felt a little too exciting to pass up on it.
Although you knew it was awfully impolite, you simply couldn’t help yourself: demons just had something about them that made it impossible to look away for a longer period of time. Perhaps that affliction was not universal in any way and it was just your humanity wiping its sweaty palms. Staring at the black rift filled with jaws of fangs and teeth, you felt yourself gulp. Little did you know, the demons were also interested in you:
“Azazel, we could just take her as we did with the other mortal,” the two-mouthed devil suggested.
“She’s not mortal anymore, you hellish clodpoll. And she’s alive.”
“So what? It wouldn’t be much of a problem. Mother of Spiders could spin her into a nice cocoon.”
Something about that idea made him immediately change his mind. “Yes, it would do for a nice alternative,” Azazel’s voice drifted away as he began entertaining those horrendous thoughts. There was something else, after all, he could try…
Sudden noise of chattering teeth made you look over your shoulder. A gasp escaped your chest as you stared into the void of eyes and fangs. Being around demons was one thing but one of them specifically seeking you out? The black rift beamed with terror as he towered over you. If he so wished, the devil could swallow you whole before anyone noticed.
“I come with an offer,” Azazel announced. Judging by the wide, mischievous grin of his many sets of teeth, you weren’t going to like it. “If you convince Dream to give the key to us, rightful owners of Hell, I’ll consider a commutation for when I finally get my hands on you.”
You weren’t quite sure what to make of his words - did he know you were going to end up in Hell or was this only a bluff? Believing a demon, in any way, shape or form, sounded ludicrous and downright demented. Nevertheless, Azazel used to be the Prince of Hell, reigning alongside Lucifer. Perhaps he had access to some arcane knowledge no other devil was privy to. 
“I hold no power over my husband, Azazel,” you spoke calmly. Can demons sense fear? “Any haggling and bargaining you should direct at him.”
To not invite the demon to attempt changing your mind, you turned around and walked away without waiting for his response. Although you couldn’t see his face, if any part of Azazel could be considered that, you felt his gaze burning into your back. Your role in his lark wasn’t finished and no matter how much you told yourself to calm down, some part of you knew that you had to be careful as long as the key to Hell is in Morpheus’s hands. Then, a sudden realization made your skin crawl: you, too, were a bargaining chip in some eyes. A queen like cattle, as if!
Continuing to ponder Azazel’s words, feeling both anger and fear,  you were hardly paying attention to where you were going. Rid of the grace expected of you, your shoulder bumped into someone.
“I am so terribly sorry,” you spoke before you could even get a good look at the unfortunate receiver of your mindless stroll.
The Japanese god, Susano-o-no-Mikoto, gave you a polite smile. He did not seem to mind your mistake. Considering his neatly done coiffure of black hair and beautiful, silky robes, he appeared the most trustworthy out of the guests. Despite his impeccable appearance, he arrived for the exact same reason as all the other deities and creatures - in some way, he was no different from them.
“Please, do not worry,” he answered with a smile and a dismissing wave of a hand. “Her majesty, if this emissary could trouble you for a minute?”
“Of course, you can. Is something the matter?”
“I know many great envoys have arrived to claim the key to Hell but I believe it would be best if such important artifact was given to me. My mother, Izanami, the Queen of the Underworld, has turned Yomi into a quite efficient structure. If I could ask your majesty to put in a favourable word for my case.”
“You have my best wishes, Susano-o-no-Mikoto. However, I’m afraid I should not mediate in my husband’s affairs if he does not explicitly ask me to. Enjoy the night.”
“I apologize for troubling your majesty. Thank you.”
Bowing politely to the god of storms, you walked farther through the hall. In the apparent temporary absence of Dream, your eyes wandered around the spacious room to check if everything was in order. Never letting your gaze stay in one place as though you were specifically looking for a shortcoming to fix, you saw a scrap of dark, flowy material somewhere in the distance. In one of the corridors leading to the great hall, you noticed Morpheus quietly talking with two unknown guests. Judging by their long ears and ethereal, entirely enraging, beauty, they had to be elves. But why were they hiding in corners of the palace? Sneaking away to speak with Dream, who regarded the Magic Folk with nothing but fondness? But before you could get a better look at the strange situation, Bast placed her hand on your arm, firmly yet gently leading you away from the crowd in hopes of having a goddess-on-goddess conversation. Undoubtedly, it was only an excuse to speak of Hell, yet again. How interesting and popular one could get the moment they held something of importance, an object of desire.
Some guests, as Morpheus had just learned, arrived late to the unscheduled party. It had been quite a while since elves paid him a visit and seeing the tense movements of the two envoys, they weren’t expecting to stay long. Considering the fondness he felt towards them, it was upsetting that they decided on a social call when the kingdom of Hell was about to be auctioned off.
"By virtue of an old treaty, we must pay Hell tithe every ten years and sacrifice nine of our best every seven. King Oberon asks you to let Hell remain empty and save our people." Cluracan pulled the woman's arm towards Morpheus. Although she tried to keep a smile on her face, it was easy to tell she was disturbed by the part she had been forced to play. Her gaze lingered on Dream for no longer than a few seconds before it fell to her feet. "This is my sister, Nuala. Queen Titania would like you to have her as a gift, a token of goodwill. Do with her as you please, Ruler of Dreams."
Yes, Nuala was beautiful, unimaginably so: with her long, curly, golden hair and an elegant, long neck decorated with perfectly round pearls. The string of the necklace was long, forcing the onlookers' gaze a little lower than etiquette suggested, right to the frilly hem of her pink, sheer dress that exposed her breasts rather indecently.
But thoughts of the elven belle were barely a passing inconvenience in Dream's mind like a fly buzzing annoyingly loudly. Somewhere in the distance, he recognized your bright laughter and began carelessly wondering what colour of pearls you'd like the most. Although, their shade was completely meaningless - even the least appealing of colours would become exquisite the moment it lays against your collarbones.
"Thank you, Cluracan. I will consider the king's request. For now, enjoy my hospitality."
Leaving the elves’ side, Morpheus’s gaze was naturally directed at you. There you stood, across the enormous hall he had conjured only for this unprecedented gathering. Dressed in the finest jewellery made from starlight and a long gown weaved from the night sky of an abandoned world, there was nothing mundane about you. A quiet sigh left his lips. Although somehow bothered by the attention his guests were forcing on you, Dream couldn’t exactly blame them - he had fallen victim to your charm himself; a sated man is at no liberty to condemn the famished.
But then, something about you changed. It was a small thing, really. You began mindlessly rubbing your hands, while the usually present wrinkles of happiness around your eyes had disappeared for a moment. The possible reason for your apparent discomfort was merely a few feet away, impossible to miss because of his unordinary demeanour:
“Beautiful Lady of Dreams!” Thor exclaimed. Considering the amount of alcohol he had ingested, it was thoroughly impressive that he was still capable of speaking coherently but a man his size could probably drink more than an entire platoon. “Will you adorn my night with your charms?”
You felt your skin crawl. Remaining as calm as possible, you managed to give him a short, polite answer. Tonight felt terribly long. “I have no control over dreams, Thor, God of Storms.”
It wasn’t exactly true - you did have some power over Dreaming, just not directly. The palace never dared twist your paths unless Morpheus wanted it to and even then he did so only because he yearned to see you. As long as you wished for a clear sky, not a cloud went by; the sun rose when you did and it set with you. Often Morpheus himself would scour dreams in search of something rare to gift you like one of the extinct Hawaiian Moho birds, existing only in the dream of an old, feverish soldier. In other words, you had no control over dreams but held power over their king instead.
“She’s married, you dimwit,” Loki bemurmued to the stocky man when you were far enough. Although travelling with Thor and Odin was better than having the snake’s venom drip on his face, the trip could hardly be considered enjoyable.
“It’s no bother to me.”
Loki groaned in frustration.
Playing the role of good hosts, Morpheus and you had a chance to talk only when Cain and Abel were entertaining the crowd with their nearly-magical tricks. For a moment, you wondered whether the younger of brothers had been told what tortures he was going to fall victim to but maybe it was better not to think about it any longer. When the morning comes, Abel will be alive and whole again - that was the most important part. Cain-Houdini appeared a little too excited about sawing his brother in half.
Standing in a corner across the hall from the emissaries-turned-audience, Morpheus looked oddly paler than usual. Although standing straight as proud monarchs do, his shoulders appeared somehow slouched as though his confident posture was a conscious effort and not innate. In a natural, mindless manner, his hand reached for yours. Dream placed a soft kiss on your palm before speaking up. 
“Are you okay?” you asked in a soft tone, although it was quite obvious to you he wasn’t anywhere close to ‘alright’.
“I could ask you the same,” he answered.
You let out a tired sigh. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Thor leaning towards Bast, who appeared no more impressed than you had. The ginger man was on his way to find out just what it meant to bother the cat goddess. Somewhere to the right, Azazel and his companions kept snickering and giving the other guests dirty looks. Cluracan and Nuala awkwardly chewed on flowers, clearly unnerved at the gathering of various entities as well as Dream’s refusal to make such an important decision in a matter of minutes. Only Anubis and Susano-o-no-Mikoto appeared generally unbothered or disinterested in the other attendants of the party. Somehow, none of the guests appeared concerned about Abel’s well-being while Cain, quite literally, cut and diced him while saying something about sausages.
Returning your attention to Morpheus, you were met with his intense, questioning gaze. Sometimes you wondered whether he was at all capable of simply looking at something, without a plethora of strange thoughts sprouting behind his eyes. "I think I got a millennium’s worth of threats, pleading and wax poetic.” 
“If any of my guests had offended you in your own home, I should-”
“Don’t.” You shook your head in a defeated manner. To stop him from his well-meaning impulses, your hand clung to the material of his robe. “This time tomorrow, none of this will matter.” 
“But you will,” he stated in a stern voice. Somehow, Morpheus was more concerned with the emissaries’ boldness than you were. “It would be a great indignity to allow such disrespect.”
“I am not offended, my love. In fact, I found those odd conversations quite enlightening. They are all so desperate to have that key but, if I’m at liberty to have an opinion on this issue, desperation never makes for a good ruler.”
“You are the queen of Dreaming, beloved.” Morpheus’s hand cradled the side of your face. “Your opinion matters more than their desperation.”
A flustered giggle left your mouth. “Just say you have a soft spot for me.”
Indecently so, Morpheus leaned in. His breath brushed against your cheeks, making your heart flutter in excitement. “Maybe if I were fond of euphemisms,” he said in a low, raspy voice while his eyes seemed to be unable to look away from your lips.
You were about to say something back to him but Cain, wearing sausage links around his neck for some reason, announced the end of the show. Abel was nowhere to be seen. Guests began getting up from their seats. Now, when the official part of the gathering was over for the night, came the unofficial, real, talk of bargains. Once more, it was time for Morpheus to go.
His lips grazed the back of your hand again. “Go. I’ll see you in bed.” It was hard to say whether he had known that you weren’t going to fall asleep while he was away from you. Maybe part of him enjoyed the thought of someone staying up to wait for him.
Sometimes you suspected that part of Dream’s regal appearance was stored in that robe riddled with holes because the moment he was out of it, he no longer looked all mighty and mysteriously dark, only skinny and grumpy. That night, the aura of utter fatigue was especially present and, as far as you could tell, it was only going to get worse.
Morpheus’s t-shirt felt pleasantly comfortable against your tired face. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso and your chin comfortably rested against his back. If asked, he’d never admit how much he liked being held like that, so you never said anything about it - a sweet, open secret between the two of you. His back was hunched as he sat on your bed.
“What should I do?” he asked quietly. “Each of them can give me something I want or need.”
You tightened your embrace around him. “I wish I could help you carry this onus, ease your strain even slightly. Alas, this burden is only yours to carry.”
“I’ve grown used to that,” Dream murmured as you gently pecked the back of his neck. Consciously or not, he leaned slightly backwards, closer to your body. “You should get some rest.”
“How can I sleep when you’re deciding the fate of the world?” you said against his shoulder blades. True, it was difficult to keep your eyes open but the worry for Morpheus rendered you restless. “Quite literally at that.”
“I do not wish to be the reason for your exhaustion, beloved.”
“That has never stopped you before.”
In the dead silence of the night, you could swear you heard him quietly chuckle at the allusion.
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ospreyeamon · 8 months
Text
playing politics
It’s been said before, but there is a clear disparity in the way the Jedi Consular and Jedi Knight are treated when it comes to their promotion prospects. While both are knighted at the end of their prologues, the Consular is given the rank of Master at the start of Act 2 while the Knight is only maybe promoted again at the close of Act 3.
The Consular’s promotion to Master is political. They are being given the rank because the Jedi Council thinks it will be necessary for the Rift Alliance to take them seriously, not because of anything the Consular has achieved up to this point Hence why they are given the rank upon being given a mission rather than completing one. Which makes sense as the Consular’s achievements during Act 1 are pretty variable.
A Consular who has LS-choiced their way through Act 1’s achievements are very impressive, even if the stint on Alderaan is their only prior diplomatic experience that we know of. A Consular who – despite being asked to shield the afflicted Jedi – chooses to kill them at varying points before accidentally (or “accidentally”) causing the deaths of hundreds more Jedi offscreen by killing Lord Vivicar, I think, probably wouldn’t have been trusted with a sensitive diplomatic post if the Council thought they had a better option. Unfortunately, in this scenario, the better options were probably numbered among the now dead Jedi Masters.
Conversely, the Jedi Knight definitely succeeded in their overall mission in Act 1. They might have been a jerk, they might have passed up opportunities to save or spare people, they might have delayed rescuing Nasan Godera for a loot acquisition detour, but they still did (eventually) retrieve Dr Godera, stop the power-guard project, save Master Kiwiiks and Tatooine, help destroy the death-mark laser, and prevent Darth Angral from torching Tython. The Knight also helps (or “helps”) guide Kira Carsen to Knighthood; successfully training a Padawan is traditionally one of the main gauges the Council uses to determine who is ready to become a Master.
A DS!Knight proves considerably more effective in Act 1 than a DS!Consular, but the Consular is still the one promoted. The promotion isn’t given in recognition of their skills or as reward for their achievements. It isn’t withheld because of any action or shift in alignment. The Consular is promoted at the start of Act 2 because their new mission is to make nice with the politicians; the Knight isn’t because they are assisting other Jedi. If the Consular’s promotion truly was a matter of merit the Knight would have been promoted too.
The end of Act 3 has incredibly stark differences in how a Dark-aligned Consular and Knight are treated by the Jedi Council. Neither of them receives the promotion they would have if they had been Light-aligned, but of the behaviour of the Council towards them is markedly different. The Consular is publicly rewarded. The Knight is publicly snubbed.
“Your relentless pursuit of the First Son merits a unique position. We would like to make you our special military advisor. You will rank alongside us, but work with the Republic, to capture the remaining Children and prepare for any future threat from the Sith.” Jaric Kaedan “Rank alongside? So I would not be a member of the Jedi Council.” Jedi Consular, Option 3 “We would prefer you to focus on assisting the Republic, rather than on Council duties. But this is only a small reward beside the great service you have done, for all of us.” Jaric Kaedan
The post of the Jedi Council’s special military advisor is a promotion, even if it might not be the promotion the Consular wanted. Jaric Kaedan doesn’t say anything to suggest that a Council Seat could have been on the table under other circumstances; the idea is only brought up if the Consular brings it up.
The Consular has experienced a meteoric rise through the ranks; their class story takes place over about three years and they go from Padawan to Knight to Master to senior Master advising the Jedi Council. Going from Padawan to Master in the span of two years is (I think) the fastest turn around we are shown for any Jedi, and most members of the Order never sit on the High Council. Being promoted to Master without having trained a Padawan in any capacity is also highly unusual. The Consular has nothing to complain about.
Even if they do complain, Jaric’s justification is that they don’t want the Consular’s attention split between their work with the Republic and the duties of a Council Member. He is quick to praise the Consular again. No mention of their turn to the Dark Side is made.
“And then there is you. How do we even begin to account for the turns your life has taken since you first arrived on Tython? The dark side has cast its shadow over you. I sense your anger and ambition growing. I can no longer ignore it. I wanted so much for you to become a Jedi Master, but you are not ready.” Satele Shan “What have I done to deserve being passed over? I've saved trillions of people.” Jedi Knight, Option 1 “Your battles on Corellia cost us Master Kiwiiks and dozens of brave Jedi. Your leadership there was questionable, at best. You struck a great blow against the Sith, but the war goes on. There will be other opportunities for you to prove yourself worthy.” or “How much have you sacrificed on your path to victory? What emotions drove these decisions? These are the questions we must answer. You struck a great blow against the Sith, but the war goes on. There will be other opportunities for you to prove yourself worthy.” Satele Shan “Master Satele, this Jedi is one of the greatest war heroes I’ve ever met. He/she deserves recognition for his/her victories. By the authority of the Supreme Chancellor, I hereby grant you the honorary rank of Republic general.” Admiral Dabrin
In contrast, in a Dark-aligned Knight’s class story ending Satele Shan tells them that they are wrathful, power-hungry, under the influence of the Dark-Side of the Force, and not being promoted to Jedi Master. It’s a public humiliation at a ceremony intended to honour the Knight’s achievements. Small wonder Admiral Dabrin tries to patch things over by naming the Knight an honorary general.
Satele Shan did not have to manage the situation with the Knight this way. She could have quietly led the Knight off into a side room before the ceremony and asked them if they knew they were clouded by the Dark Side. She could have had the kind of talk with them that Orgus Din does on Rishi. Making a public spectacle was taking the nuclear option.
Satele can claim that the Knight isn’t being promoted because of their poor leadership on Corellia, but Satele was the one to put the Knight in charge of the Jedi forces on Corellia, possibly over the Knight’s objections. Besides, we the audience know it isn’t the truth. The Jedi Council’s refusal to grant them the rank of Master isn’t tied to any decision they could have taken on Corellia – it is solely determined by their alignment.
The denunciation being so public makes me feel that its motivation was either highly political or deeply personal. Did Satele feel betrayed by the Knight? Did the rest of the Jedi Council even know she was planning on going off script in front of the Republic brass? Was she convinced the Knight’s Dark-alignment was evidence they had done terrible things she would never be able to find proof of?
Was the decision to try to crack down hard on the Knight made because the Consular had also turned but couldn’t be reprimanded without insulting the Rift Alliance? Were Council concerned that members of the Order like Unaw Aharo were admiring a Dark Jedi? Was Satele under pressure to make a statement against Jedi drawing on the Dark-Side while fighting in the war?
But if a DS-choicing Knight got Jedi unnecessarily killed, then a DS-choicing Consular got more Jedi killed; hundreds compared to dozens. If it’s dangerous to have impressionable Jedi looking up to a Dark-aligned Hero of Tython, then it’s no less dangerous to have them admiring a Dark-aligned Barsen’thor. If a Dark Jedi shouldn’t be permitted to become a Master, then a Dark Consular should be demoted rather than set to advise the Council.
There is an incredible double-standard in how the Consular is treated in comparison to the Knight – and a double-standard in how the Consular is treated compared to the norms of the Order. This is surely something people in-universe have opinions about.
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