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dogicrimsonofficial · 3 months

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A scene from a RP with friend - Jason's companion and pet, Anklebiter, has no qualms about showing who's her favorite Elezen. He makes her owner happy, after all!

#haurchefant greystone #haurchefant x wol #digital art #ffxiv #ffxiv oc's #Storytellers Lore #Anklebiter #she is a coeurl kitten #Most of the time #She can also turn into big coeurl #Jason Windsaga #Dogi art

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clanborn · 6 months

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Origins of the Bay Clans: Stone and the Lynx (Part 2)

The tracks led inland, further than the cats of Stone’s little clan had yet dared to travel. She followed the river upstream, skirting the thrashing current as it threw itself against the banks. The forest grew denser, the hemlocks thicker, the sharp peaks of the mountains taller, casting the valley in deep shadow. All was silent but the river, and the sound of strange, buzzing bird calls that rang eerily through the trees. Though her heart trembled, Stone trekked on, her pawsteps guided by purpose and the tracks that still sat unmistakable in the mud.

Stone had never followed a river to its origin, had never even thought of it as a possibility. Water–rivers, oceans, rains–lived outside the boundaries of a lifespan, within birth and death. Rivers weren’t something that just began, or ended, they simply cycled–at least, that’s what she had believed.

After hours spent unceasingly hiking through the valley, Stone emerged from the edge of the treeline. The pebbled ground spread flat in front of her, before abruptly spiking upward to form the range of mountains. Two peaks pierced the sky, and nestled between them was a landform unlike anything Stone had ever seen. The river rushed forward from the base of a giant white slope, a crystalline mass carved deep with blue crevices.

The wall shone like a piece of the moon itself, bleeding into the valley, its essence spilling into the forest before winding its way to the Bay. As Stone drew closer, she realized with a shock that the structure was made of ice, frozen solid despite the warmth of late spring.

She halted at the river’s edge, looking upon the structure in wonder. Was the moon made of ice? Had a shard of it fallen from the heavens upon the mountains? What else could create a fortress so massive, so imposing yet nurturing, whose icy waters fed the land and the bay?

These questions swam through her mind, but she tossed them to the side with a flick of her ears. For now, the answers were unknowable, and she must remain focused on her task.

She shook out her pelt and continued her path: the ground now had turned to gravel, and she tracked by scent instead of footprints. The slope turned steep, then rocky, a gray mountain face broken only by patches of unmelted snow and determined shrubs. Below her, the mass of ice gleamed, stretching out beyond the peaks like a blinding white sea.

As she continued along the mountainside, she noticed an opening in the cliff face, a dark entrance where the ice field met the mountain. She quickened her pace until she reached the cave entrance, standing on the barrier of darkness. Here, the scent she was tracking hung in the air, strong as ever, leading her into the blackness. She slipped into the cave without a second thought

Inside was a large cave, and she quickly crossed the open stretch of ground to the back, where a darker shadow lay. A tunnel.

Curiosity drove her forward, driving away any fear she might have felt. Down into the tunnel she tread, deeper and deeper into the veins of the mountain. For ages she was guided by scent alone, and the narrow tunnel walls pressing on all sides. An eternity of darkness.

Finally, Stone saw light, a blue glow that softly spilled into the end of the tunnel. Her footsteps quickened, and the cat entered into a cavern. Her breath hitched as she stepped into the light, awed by the sight before her. A medium sized cave rose around her, walls of smooth, layered stone arcing above her. The stone was washed with blue, for one wall was made not of rock, but entirely of ice. It was a deep, rich blue, as sunlight filtered down into the fragment of icy moon.

Within the ice wall’s bubbles and cracks hung an even stranger sight. A giant skeleton, ancient and fragmented, was trapped frozen in the ice, the remains of a creature Stone had never seen before. Though it’s thick bones and long, curved fangs were utterly unfamiliar, something in Stone knew it had once called itself catkin. A forgotten ancestor.

In front of the ice, sitting still and gray as the rocks around it, was a towering feline silhouette, its tufted ears outlined by the cold light. Stone’s fellow, wild catkin cousin. The Lynx.

The Lynx turned its gaze towards her slowly, expectantly, like it had known about her presence even before she did. Stone approached it, wary.

“I admire your tenacity, cat” Its voice was a gravelly purr. “I thought you’d stop at the treeline.”

Stone skirted the wall carefully, keeping several pawsteps of distance between her and the creature. “Why did you assume that?”

The Lynx wrinkled its nose in a wry smirk. “Well, look at you. You’re an imitation of a cat. This wilderness is unfit for your kind.”

Stone flattened her ears, attempting to keep her voice level. “What exactly do you mean?”

“You call yourselves ‘cats’, yet your kind feeds by human hands. You have grown small and thin-furred, distant from your nobler origins. You can only survive in little packs, reliant on the work of others, unable to face nature with your own merit—A true ‘cat’ walks in solitude, you know nothing of the sort.”

Stone looked beyond the Lynx to the ice wall behind it, where the massive bones of their great ancestor lay suspended in time. “You say my kind has fallen, but have yours not? Have you not also grown smaller than this god, your fangs short, your bones thin? It too lived in solitude, yet here it lies, dead, its life unremembered by its catkin. You mock my community, but we have lived this long despite this lands’ harshness, and will continue to do so.”

The Lynx’s smug expression faded, and its gaze grew intense as it stared at Stone. “Even gods die, housecat. The only thing life guarantees is an ending.” It curled its lip. “Your ‘community’ is not exempt from this.”

Stone met its eyes, unwavering. “If we are catkin, what bars me from the same powers you possess? Surely I can learn to survive by your means, surely I can find access to your blessings.”

The Lynx almost laughed, but the scoff caught in its throat. It narrowed its eyes, suddenly thoughtful, the smirk creeping back up its muzzle.

“Maybe I can offer you a taste of godhood, little cat. The lives of my predecessors run through me, from the tip of my tail through all ten of my claws.” The deity sat back on its haunches and held up its massive paws in demonstration. For a brief moment, its claws twinkled with a faint light, like stars plucked straight from the sky.

“One of these is mine, of course. But I have nine to spare.” It tilted its head down at her, its fangs gleaming in the blue cavern light. “Provided I deem you worthy of them.”

Stone raised her head in challenge. “What would make me worthy?”

The Lynx paused to consider, eyeing her up and down.

“To you alone I will grant these lives, thus you alone must face me.” The lynx narrowed its eyes. “Prove to me your will and strength, and defeat me in battle. If I submit, I grant you these lives, and the chance to explore this bay with greater distance between death and yourself.”

“Your loss, of course, will cost you your life.” It dipped its head towards her. “Is it a deal?”

Stone paused, hesitant, her heart fluttering in her chest. How could she face this creature in her state, small in stature, weary from her climb, completely alone? Despite her apprehension, her curiosity was stronger. There was only one chance for an opportunity like this, and even if she declined, what would stop the Lynx from killing her anyway?.

She nodded once. “I accept your terms.”

The lynx nodded back. Its fangs flashed. It stretched its claws.

They leapt into battle.

Stone was swift, but the Lynx was strong and skilled. It battered her with massive paws, slamming her into the cold rocky floor. Stone dodged and weaved through its attacks, but the cavern was small, and every leap Stone made seemed to send her into another faceful of claws.

Her opponent threw a powerful swipe, tossing her against the ice wall with a thud. Back against the blue glow, Stone crouched low, struggling to catch her breath. Her strength was waning, and Stone knew with every moment her chances of victory grew slimmer. Her paws shook slightly. The Lynx had noticed her waver, and began to pad towards with calm, sure steps. It smiled–it was eager to finish her off. How could she win this?

She thought of the cats–the clan–she had left behind, who likely waited anxiously for their wayward leader’s return. Would they falter without her guidance? Would the glimmer of hope she had lit in their hearts snuff out with fear? If only she could lead them to the majestic moon glacier, show them the ethereal ancient glow of the blue cave, renew their spirits with wonder at the wilderness they were trapped in. Stone suddenly stiffened, steeling herself as she lifted her gaze back toward her foe. Though she fought alone in the cavern, her mind conjured the presence of her clan behind her. She would not die here. She would die among the cats she had befriended, who had banded together in their time of need. The cats she needed, who needed her to return alive.

With a burst of vigor, Stone launched herself toward the lynx’s head, her weight and confidence catching it off guard. She clung to its face, slashing its ears, her momentum sending it crashing hard into the floor. It flailed its huge paws, but Stone stood steadfast upon its chest, pressing her own paws down forcefully against its throat. Her claws dug in, blood welled up around her toes. The lynx grew more panicked, struggling wildly, its breath stuttering in strangled gasps. Stone pressed harder.

“St–Sto-”

Stone leaned close into its face. “Do you yield?”

The Lynx thrashed its head, attempting to nod frantically. “Yg-Yes!”

Stone slowly lifted her paws, releasing pressure off the creature’s throat. It gasped for air, then shoved her off its chest, throwing her to the floor. She scrambled to her paws, watching the Lynx heave. After it had caught its breath, the Lynx pressed its paw deep into the stone floor. It did so with strange power, impressing into the rock like it was mud, leaving the crisp outline of its giant pawprint. It beckoned her over. Its breath was hoarse. “Come.”

Stone approached the Lynx. She eyed it warily, nervous that it would decide to ignore the deal and kill her anyway. But it didn’t move as she stood above it, her paws settling on the edge of its pawprint, which seemed to sparkle slightly in the dim, cold light.

The Lynx glared up at her, its cool demeanor vanished, its eyes blazing with controlled fury. “Touch your nose to the floor,” it growled. “You will receive your reward.”

Carefully, Stone dipped her head down, until her nose brushed against the floor’s icy chill. For a brief moment, all was still.

Suddenly, she was blinded by overwhelming light. The force of the glare threw her head back, and her vision was assaulted by an oppressive blur of color and noise. Images flashed in her mind, landscapes, memories, creatures she has never seen before. Each streaked by, too fast for her to fully process the scenes. Waves of emotion crashed in her, sending her reeling, thrown into a raging sea of grief and joy and fear and wonder. She felt all of time as it had crept by, millions of years of the past and future stretched out infinitely, lived all at once in a single instant. She felt everything. She felt nothing. It was the most agonizing pain she had ever experienced, swept in a flood of sheer euphoria. She knew places and beasts and times she had no name for, all lived through and known by the catkin before her. It was the longest moment of her life, but as she crouched, trembling, blinking her eyes back to the sight of the blue cavern, she realized only seconds had passed.

The Lynx had stood, and had begun moving toward the cave’s exit. It turned to look down at her, and Stone returned its gaze, panting heavily, her fur on end and buzzing with strange energy.

It was silent for a moment. “You now have eight more lives to live along with your own. More than any little cat has had before. Your blessing and your curse.” It lulled thoughtfully, its expression had settled back into its neutral stare.

Its voice was cold, though laced with an undertone of contempt–and perhaps, Stone thought, respect. “Do not treat this victory lightly, Stone. Every day you live here will be another test, another gamble with your life. Living here is a game with no winners, and you and your fellows can only stall the march of nature for so long.”

The lynx turned, padding toward the exit. “The gods here will meddle where they like, and though you have bested me, I can not guarantee my kin will be deterred from entertaining themselves with playthings like you.”

The god stopped in the entrance, then glanced back toward her, its face in shadow.

“Good luck, Stone. You will need it.”

It disappeared.

For a moment, Stone stood alone in the blue cavern.

She was not Stone anymore. Something had changed within her, the Lynx’s stars sat heavy in her chest, glittered on her whiskers. Just as an icy piece of the moon had fallen to the earth and become one with it, fragments of the stars had melded with her being. She was Stonestar, and her pelt glowed with the new (old?) lives that settled under her fur.

And she was alive. More than she had ever been before.

And it was time to return to her clan.

#oops wrong blocg #this one is more of a written story #im more of a visual storyteller than an author so hopefully it reads ok #oh also this is the version of the story that’s been passed down through the clans #so it’s been embellished and should not necessarily be taken at face value #since stonestar was the only one there and this was many decades ago #lore #stone #stonestar #my art #the lynx #warrior cats #alaska clans

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creative-clawmarks · 6 months

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From the comments section for Hear! The Siren Song Call of Death, liked by Hakita, thought y'all would wanna see it.

#ultrakill #ultrakill spoilers #the entire landscape of this game's lore has changed for me #im gonna be thinking about this forever #hakita greatest storyteller of a generation

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nocinovae · 6 months

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Minecraft feels like it doesn’t know what to do for big updates any more so they’re doing like small miscellaneous updates collected together. I wish they’d move on from trying to give them a theme bc I feel like that’s just confusing.

One thing I wish they’d do is do updates from time to time and go back and add pieces to old update. Like maybe add more fish or tree types.

Specifically what made me have this thought is that I’d love if they’d add more to the geodes. Like the amethysts are lovely but I’d love if there was a whole range of crystals to find in geodes!! I feel like that’s along the line of the archaeological stuff they’ve done recently! Digging into the earth for history and stuff!

Also if they ever do a forest update I’d freak out. I’d love if they revamped their nature bc I feel like that part of the over world specifically has been the same since the beginning era of minecraft. Like ocean, nether, caves, villages, NOW FOREST. And end.

Feels like natural progression of their universe growing! And I like feeling like the updates can have a “story” like aspect to me. Especially bc worldbuilding. Favorite idea when it comes to minecraft lore

#mineblr #Minecraft #Minecraft game development #Minecraft updates #minecraft lore #minecraft worldbuilding #minecraft caves #minecraft crystals #ROCKS ROCKS AND MORE ROCKS #like if they could add to the andesite granite diorite thing too with like limestone and other minerals #MINERAL ROCK UPDATE #GEOLOGY UPDATE #they could add like volcanic and igneous rocks to the nether??? l #I like this idea very very much #minecraft and game development are my special interests #and worldbuilding but that’s like a part of those and my storytelling spins #I feel like there’s some things in minecraft that people love to add thru mods that mods shouldn’t be necessary for #like more biomes! I get biome design or unique biomes but give plains and forests more flavor!#or forest animals! OR BUGS ADD BUGS #I get mods for dungeons or cute decoration but simple worldbuilding shouldn’t need mods #I’m getting frustrated with being dissatisfied with vanilla minecraft when all I want are more variability to blocks and biome expansion!#often times mods are too complex and add too much over vanilla minecraft when I like vanilla minecraft #it’s just after all this time especially with cave and cliffs added the nature feels behind and too simple

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rrcraft-and-lore · 5 days

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Once upon a time

Everyone knows once upon a time, but did you know that countless cultures have their variation of how classic stories begin, and one one from Welsh is, "A long time ago," similar to a few others from other cultures that go, "A long long time ago."

But, some, like Lithuanian go: "Beyond nine seas, beyond nine lagoons," similar to the Czech, "Beyond seven mountain ranges, beyond seven rivers."

These are some variations from Arab texts: This happened or maybe it did not. The time is long past and much is forgot.

There was or there was not—is anything sure or certain but the greatness of Allah?—a king so powerful that man and Djinn bowed before him.

This is how many Hausa tales are begun “A story, a story. Let it go, let it come.”

And of course, we have one that is a combination and modern invention that has become part of media culture and storied greatness: "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away." <3

These are just some. But it's been among the most wonderful part of my research before I began putting down the first words for Tales of Tremaine. But the art of storytelling is one of the most human things there is. It's central to us, and it has passed long and far by tongue and time over lands and through cultures. Some beginnings are so similar to each other, some not so much.

But then you see the threads between them in the stories, the themes, tropes, archetypes, motifs. But the traditions span the world. They are old. They are cool. And they are beautiful.

And storytelling is one of the gifts that connects us all, like music, and other arts.

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canisalbus · 5 months

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very random question and don’t feel obligated to reply but your style reminds me of dark souls/pathologic/those types of games in general. that might just be due to the historical context but i’m curious, are you a fan of games like that?

If I had to guess it could be just the vaguely historical setting, religious overtones and occasional darker themes? My knowledge on Dark Souls et al. is sparse at best, people have been telling me to give them a try but I haven't gotten around to it.

#they look really really nice and I trust it when people say the lore and storytelling is on next level #but these days I generally don't fancy games that brag on their high level of technical difficulty it's just a personal pet peeve #they make me feel like I'm being punished and that my time and effort aren't valued and that puts such a dent in my ability to enjoy them #the games I get the most out of tend to be relatively short and self contained indie experiences #with focus on storytelling ambience and unique and artsy visuals #answered #anonymous

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prxnce · 18 days

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The Love Letter Save V.2 from: Prxnce

finally... its been just over a year since v.1 and just about 2 years since i started crafting this what is the love letter save? the love letter save is... a love letter to my childhood which mainly revolved around the sims *shocker* and various shows/movies etc. this save file embraces the idea that the sims 4 takes place on an alternate timeline... combining and altering the storylines from previous sims installments. i brought a TON of families from all previous sims games with some of their original lore and some twists of my own.

in the save bella goth is still missing... or she was... the beakers have a test subject, except it's claire ursine's love child with jared frio in this timeline. the caliente sisters are still up to no good! and the monty's still hate the capp family! and sooooo much more... i want to give a special thanks to LifeSimmer, who permitted me to use the Fenderson family in this save. i have been playing the sims since i was 9 years old and all these years later that family is just as special to my inner sims child as the goth family.

i made separate posts for pictures of the towns which you can find HERE same for the townies through the series of ten posts pt. 1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | pt.5| pt.6 | pt.7| pt.8| pt.9| pt.10

before you download!!!

i highly recommend going into your MCCC settings and TURNING OFF sim culling. what this will do is prevent the game from deleting unplayed sims as you play. which i didn't until after v.1 and was confused why i had to start from scratch around 9 months ago.

what packs are required?

all of them! (sorry)

no cc!

when you load in!!!

all households will be marked as played... simply because i wasn't taking my chances with sim culling

autonomy and aging are off, it is up to you if you would like to turn this back on

finally i am sure that i missed some things or relationships or maybe even forgot a mailbox somewhere... that is bound to happen with every save file. let me know if you would like i plan on only adding as the sims 4 goes on and would to get to near perfection

and with that that... i am sending all love... please enjoy V.2

DOWNLOAD

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2012throwback · 1 year

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the Architects calling it the prophidian theodicy rather than the prophidian heresy is such a small amazing detail that delayed my second of remembrance/realization of what Matt meant just enough to make the reveal hit even harder

#the ravening war spoilers #matthew mercer and the whole team are such detailed storytellers committed to lore i love it #the ravening war episode 3 #the ravening war #dimension 20 #d20

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chubbie-bunnie-96 · 8 months

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Imagine being able to turn stone into wet silk.

"Undine Rising From the Waters" by American sculptor Chauncey Bradley Ives (1880) is a masterpiece of neo-classical illusionistic sculpture.

The artist took on one of the hardest tasks imaginable - carving from solid marble the rippling wet gown of the "Undine" as she rises up from the water.

According to medieval lore, undines were Mediterranean sea spirits who lived as soulless mortals. Baron Heinrich Karl de la Motte Fouqué’s 19th century novel "Undine" popularized the story of a water spirit gaining human form by marrying a mortal knight.

When her husband is unfaithful, the laws of the water spirits force her to kill him. The sculpture depicts the moment when the mournful Undine, cloaked in a delicate veil, rises from the water to claim her husband’s life.

#art #marble #carving #sculpting #lore #fantasy #storytelling

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dogicrimsonofficial · 3 months

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Who's the other WIndsaga?

Lyra Windsaga! She's Jasons younger sister, a lancer/dragoon, and the two have been thick as thieves for the majority of their lives. She's being played by @phyrephoxyttrpg

She's brave, happy, social and very huggy personality. Generous to boot, and Jason very much considers her the heart and soul of the party - without her around, there is no team. Or that's at least his opinion.

She can be a little oblivious at times, and slightly naïve, and be quite reckless in combat, but Jason loves her all the same - her presence brightens everyone's day. More backstory under the cut!

Their adoptive parents were ill-equipped to handle miqo'tes, and knew nothing of their culture as where they lived, they were basically the first discovered miqo'tes - hence their names. Jason was the one to adopt the name 'Windsaga' for himself, and Lyra followed suit. We don't talk about the couple that 'raised' them. At all.

We call them the cat-twins, biblings, and miqo-twins, but they're not actual twins - they got no blood relation at all, and Jason's actually couple years older. Yet, it is Lyra who often feels responsible on keeping Jason safe - always launching herself at the danger. Partially because she cares, partially because how they were raised >w>

Due to backstory reasons, Jason had to leave their home-village 3 years before Lyra could follow. She was not happy about it. But the moment the two reconnected, the two have been attached by the hip for the most part - aside from a couple month period where the party was disbanded for vacation reasons.

Oh, and Jason 100% is playing wingman to get Lyra and Beans together. Lyra's returning the favor with Haurchefant.

#ffxiv #ffxiv OC's #Miqo'te #digital art #ask #answered #Jason Windsaga #Lyra Windsaga #Dogi art #Storytellers lore #Thank you anon you gave me an excuse to gush about Jason's sister!

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karmarox · 2 months

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Kallamar the Coward

Thinking about Kallamar in Cult of the Lamb, with how the lore and even his own siblings taunt him for being a coward and he even tries to bargain and sway you away from getting your revenge and killing him, even ready to throw Shamura under the bus to save himself, but then when you finally push him into a corner and he's forced to fight he not only busts out a bunch of weapons and starts quad-wielding them but he was once regarded by the fandom as being among the hardest bosses of the base game.

It got me thinking, was he always like this? Narinder certainly thinks so, but there's bias there. It's easy to just write him off as always being a mess like this...

But there's no denying he's the second in power after Shamura, Anchordeep is known for its beauty, he takes personal pride in the way he took care of his cult/area, and when in Purgatory out of all the bishops he's notably the most lucid/aware of where he is.

So I present this: After Narinder's sealing, Shamura was in no state to lead or give orders. The Bishops all had massive injuries that refused to heal. Who out of the 4 would immediately be assumed to be the one to take a leadership role? Who had comparatively more "manageable" injuries to take care of the other 3? And who would you assume is most likely to have medical experience to at least try to lessen the impact of all of their wounds?

Kallamar, Pestilence and Cure.

Early on after The One Who Waits was sealed away, Kallamar would have had to effectively take over the Old Faith while also caring for a broken beyond repair older sibling, who had always been the "Wise" one that the others blindly followed, yet was now barely even there at the best of times, and two younger siblings, one who was now permanently blind (and young/weak enough that they couldn't even muster a single Curse towards the Lamb before being crushed within days of their resurrection even years after the sealing, so just imagine how new to godhood they were back when this all started), and another who had had her throat torn out, all while downplaying his own wounds.

What if, then, at some point, he simply broke?

He resents Shamura, even potentially sincerely blames them for causing the entire thing (which Shamura confesses to), both leading them to turn on Narinder and also for leading everyone to killing the Lambs. He's still fond of Leshy, but from how quick to take charge Heket is, it's clear that after he proved unable to take the stress of it all, she was next in line as the "leader" of The Old Faith. There's gotta be some resentment there on both ends because of that, particularly with how quick he is to criticize how she took care of her territory.

And then compare how he is as a bishop to how he is as a follower. I think it's very very interesting that he goes from a dirty coward and absolute pathetic mess of anxiety and fear, to pleading directly to his own executioner for help, to being almost perfectly happy and content to simply be a Follower of the Lamb's cult. The others (minus Shamura, due to their condition) are resentful and quick to give sharp words to the Lamb, but Kallamar? It's like all his anxiety is gone with his godhood. He has nothing to fear anymore, and is almost ridiculously quick to be friendly to the Lamb and share his tastes in decor and pride in appearances with them. Not even in the "kissing up" way, he talks like they're equals. Is this what Kallamar was like, before everything? Is he actually HAPPIER as a Mortal now that all of the responsibility and fear of death is gone? Even secretly grateful?

There's no denying his cowardice. There's no denying it crossed a line when he was ready to betray Shamura when his nerves reached their limit. There's no denying that as much as he'd like to believe that he is absolved of guilt for The Old Faith's sins simply because he was just doing what Shamura told him to even if he claims he thought it was a bad idea.

But you also have to wonder what caused that cowardice to form, and what other feelings motivate his actions besides fear.

(tldr: sad squid was not ready to become the responsible one, especially not after going deaf and being traumatized. Has a mental breakdown halfway through raising the others due to not being able to actually deal with going deaf or being traumatized because it turns out being the god of physical health is different from mental health. Little sister ends up having to step up and be the mom now. Their relationship never recovered because of it, and he now blames the eldest for failing them and also for his own failures to cope. As a bonus developed an attachment to his own killer out of some weird warped perception of them "rescuing" him from his stress and then from death itself.)

#Cult of the Lamb #Kallamar #character study #Headcanon #Lore #my stuff #my writing #story #storytelling

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emile-hides · 8 months

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I was watching a Youtube video of all the Cinematic from the new Overwatch Invasion update (cause heaven knows I ain't buying it) and I noticed at the end Ramattra has this like.. Burn? Mark?? On his chest that goes through his cape

So I downloaded Overwatch on my PC to get a look at the Wandering/Traveling Monk skins this scene is using and I noticed..

Traveling and Wandering have a lot of visual differences, most notably in the burn the originally got my attention.

Wandering has been used canonically to show Ramattra's monk days previously, in his origin story and in the Developer commentary, but interestingly the artwork in those videos is lacking that very burn

Overwatch character designers are very good at visual storytelling, especially with Omnics (I could write an essay on what they've done with Zenyatta), so I believe this burn may very well be what became the Last Straw for Ramattra, what pushed him to leave the Shambali, what caused his fall into violence and eventually Talon.

Was he attacked? Or was he attempting to protect someone else? Despite his best efforts to shield them, the shot fired right past him, scorching his metal, cutting through his cape, and taking their life...

I hope we learn more about it.

#Overwatch #Ramattra #It's Emile goes insane about Overwatch Lore but only for the Omnics time again #Also while gathering screen shots for this I did become mildly obsessed with the red?? bag?? Cloth??? Ramattra is wearing when he meets Zen #99% because Zenyatta is wearing it on their walk to the Shambali #But also because Zen seems to STILL be wearing it AT the Shambali but as an obi(?) and he was also still wearing it in OW1 #But not anymore in OW2???#Where'd Zenyatta's comfort red fabric go??? What happened???#(well his ow2 design would have been cluttered with it with all the red cables is the real answer but kfdjgkdf)#I'M OBSESSED WITH ZENYATTA'S VISUAL STORYTELLING #Other Omnics have it too like Maximilien who has a lot of Human Augmentations like opening his mouth #Because he's a class traitor #Love that for him #Or how Bars has Tribalera Boots implying she's originally from Northern Mexico #I might be wrong about that one actually fkjgkf Assumption there #Anyway RAMATTRA'S BURN #I'm sooooooo unhinged about it actually #The idea of hims shielding someone begging the humans around him to put down their weapons not to shoot etc #Watching them die... Ooooh yeah #It wasn't his first time seeing his siblings die at human hands.. But he vowed it to be the last time...#It could also have been Zenyatta who got shot #We're still not 100% about that whole #'Those were the exact words I'd said to Zenyatta.. Right before I nearly got him killed'#Like when it happened or how it went down #I ASSUMED that was post First Meeting before Shambali #But it could have been while they were traveling and serving the community around them....#God I have you Activation Blizzard but I LOVE you Overwatch Creative Team #Can't wait to know more

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jewvian · 10 months

Text

I don't know how much of episode 5 of sword af was improvised, like in terms of Delores and Koda and their history, cuz there had to be some discussions with Damien prior to the session in order to create such an elaborated lore.

But like it didn't matter cuz it caught me off guard anyways, and I was not expecting the raw emotions from Amanda and Chanse. The level of acting from such comedic actors fucking floored me. Wow. Like I got chills all over, it was insane.

Also the sound department?? The editors??? Whoever decided to put the sound effects for each story??? Y'all need a raise.

#smosh #sword af #damien haas #amanda lehan canto #chanse mccrary #delores paradise #koda amakiir #text #lol lots of tags here 😂#anyways it'll take me some time to recover from this entire new lore #i had no idea i'll get a massive mental slap today lmao #amanda's face will haunt me for days #and chanse's eyes with that raw fear in them? i'm fucking done #what an episode we had!!!#truly amazing to witness such storytelling

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