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quitealotofsodapop · 9 days

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Not to mention if he had shown Tang, a scholar who lived and breathed JTTW, his memories... I'm pretty sure Tabg would have straight up attacked him for trying to describe what happened to Wukong while he was held captive by Heaven had been anything less than what it was: Torture. For example, at this point, Sun Wukong is more than a fairytale or storybook character. He's more than just some demon who lived thousands of years ago as a footnote in a history book. He's a person, not only that, but he's someone who has since become part of Tang's family! He's a flawed but still wise master who is impulsively self sacrificial to the point of unintentionally hurting the people who care about him, he's temperamental and tends to be forgetful about the limits of normal mortals because he's never had a baseline, he's petty, but ultimately... Sun Wukong is someone who cares deeply and honestly about the people who manage to get past the ironclad walls he has erected around his heart, someone who is selfless at heart even when his actions seem selfish, someone who has had a very difficult life and is still learning to let other in and trust them. Tanghas read Wukong's story a hundred times over, analyzed his written actions a thousand times, out of everyone he is probably the one who knows the ksot about Wukong's past besides the Demon Bull King and Macaque, the person who pribavly raised Wukong the most besides the Sentinels and his mate respectively. He recognizes how much Wukong has changed for the better, how he's still learning after all these centuries, and how he's trying so very hard to be a good mentor for MK and teach him the lessons he never had so he doesn't suffer the same way he did even while his own past comes back to bite him.

So no... Tang would absolutely be offended by Azure's narrative

YUP. referencing.

Tang about to bust out his Bachelors in ancient Chinese history and literature to poke a million holes in Azure Lion's whiteashed narrative:

(In the Scroll of Memory as Azure is showing his memories of the Rebellion): Tang, suddenly appearing in the memory: "Where is Erlang Shen?" Azure, startled: "How did you get in here?" Tang: "As someone who lives for this era in history - I can poke so many holes in your story. Sun Wukong was strong enough for the Jade Emperor, but fell to his nephew Erlang Shen, his Plum Hill Lads, and Lao Tzu's binding ring. From there he was tossed into the Trigram Furnace and was forced to endure 49 days of the Samadhi Fire to extract his immortalities." Azure, pleasantly impressed: "You know your stories well monk-" Tang, interupting: "AND-! I am not finished. The great Tang Monk, aka Tripitaka, did not yield to the Taoist gods! Only to the Buddha and his diciples! To call him an Agent of the Oppressors greatly overlooks how many times he helped his fellow mortals, even at the threat of being executed for his faith!" Azure: "You're becoming overwhelmed-" Tang, angry tears: "And I know Wukong! He wouldn't have targeted you guys at Camel Ridge unless you did something warranting his anger! How can you call him a traitor when YOU left him to burn!?" (*Azure's memories dispate, instead showing Wukong when he was with the Pilgrims - from the perspective of Tripitaka. Wukong is laughing along with his brothers Zhu Bajie, Sha Wujing, and Ao Lie*) Tang, volume increasing: "Wukong didn't stay with the Pilgrims to hurt people. He stayed because he knew that his mind and emotions needed healing after such a tremendous amount of pain. They cared enough for him to address this pain and help him towards being a true sage. Something your *Brotherhood* obviously never bothered to do! HE DIDN'T BETRAY YOU AS MUCH AS YOU BETRAYED HIM!!" (the memory scroll completely disapates back to reality. the entire MKrew + the Brotherhood are staring shocked at Tang's show of power*) Tang: *breathing heavily and angry crying* MK, wide-eyed and impressed: "...whoa" Pigsy, proud: "Yup. Don't try to twist what happened back then Azure. My Tangy knows his history." Peng, whispers to the others: "The Golden Cicada lives on. I knew I wasn't mistaken." Yellow Tusk: "I suggest we retreat for now. Once the Celestial Realm senses our escape, they are sure to have increased their defences." Azure, eyes narrowing: "No. We go forward with our plan. No matter what this monk-" Tang: "I'M NOT A MONK!" Tang: *casts Magic Missile*

Because at the end of the day, Azure understimated the receipts that Wukong's new dad-friend would have on their political movement.

#lmk theories #lmk tang #lmk azure lion #jttw #journey to the west #lmk the brotherhood #lmk yellow tusk elephant #lmk golden winged peng #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk s4 spoilers

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fulfillpurpose · 3 months

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What I write here is mostly dark fantasy, but it's Valentine's Day, so here's something warmer and real.

I've been in a 24/7 D/s relationship for a number of years now. It wasn't something we went in expecting, or something we decided on one day: it just became clear early on that it was what we both wanted, and I took it from there. I gave her a collar and a leash and a safeword, and she became the sweetest little toy I could wish for.

People writing about BDSM on here usually focus on the sex, of course - and don't get me wrong, the sex is amazing. But there's so many aspects of our power dynamic that make it not just hot, but tremendously sweet and fulfilling. A small sample:

Seeing how completely at peace she looks when she's sitting at my feet, wearing my collar.

Having her come to me for orders when she's having trouble doing something on her own, because obeying me makes things simpler for her.

Giving her a bedtime and an exercise schedule, and banning her from saying unkind things about herself, and knowing that she's happier and healthier for being under my control.

Feeling her curl up on my chest after I discipline her - coming to me for safety even when I've just given her pain.

Making her obediently accept my help even when she wouldn't be able to ask for it - because she would feel like it was too much to ask for, or that she shouldn't need it, or doesn't deserve it.

Knowing that I have a level of power over her that really is dangerous for her - that I genuinely could, say, decide that I was going to get her pregnant just because it turned me on - and that she still feels safe, because she knows I won't abuse it. (But not so safe that she won't get turned on by the threat.)

To us, power exchange is a manifestation of absolute trust and intimacy. She trusts me to use my power over her wisely and (mostly) benevolently, and to understand her well enough to do that. I trust her to obey me when I'm not around to see it, to tell me when she can't, and to give me the information I need to know in order to properly control and take care of her.

And of course, taking care of her isn't just an imperious thing - sometimes it means clearing a backlog of dishes for her when she's overwhelmed with other things. Which I'm glad to do, both because it'll make her happy, and because I know that when I free her from cares and responsibilities, she wants nothing more than to be a pretty little pet for me.

I own her, because she wants to belong to me, because she knows that I'll be good to her. It's a joy and an honor to be trusted so completely, and I'm never going to forget that.

#fp: reality #fulfillpurpose writing #reblogs are off on this one just because it's more personal /

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joyburble · 1 year

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Dongfang Qingcang asks Shangque questions a lot. It's a habit that we're shown he must have got into long ago, because he does it right from the start. He even does it with absurd hypotheticals:

(to which he realises he doesn't want an answer, and retracts the question before he gets more than a puzzled "Well …"). I'm sorry, this is going to be long, there's no way to avoid it.

He does it in cases where Shangque's common sense is practically useful:

(The answer "She's too cold" turns out to be correct).

He does it when there is a real mystery to solve. Here, Shangque's hypothesis is wrong, but it's as good a place as any to start an analysis that leads closer to the truth:

This is a good habit for a king to have. It's advised in the most famous work of the European Renaissance on how to conduct oneself as a head of state:

"... there is no other way of guarding oneself from flatterers except letting men understand that to tell you the truth does not offend you; but when every one may tell you the truth, respect for you abates. Therefore a wise prince ought to hold a third course by choosing the wise men in his state, and giving to them only the liberty of speaking the truth to him, and then only of those things of which he inquires, and of none others; but he ought to question them upon everything, and listen to their opinions, and afterwards form his own conclusions. ... he ought to be a constant inquirer, and afterwards a patient listener concerning the things of which he inquired; also, on learning that any one, on any consideration, has not told him the truth, he should let his anger be felt.

(Nicolò Machiavelli, The Prince, 1532, in my favourite translation by W. K. Mariott)

There's a very good reason why Shangque is the person chosen here. Consider this question, immediately after the last one:

That question is only worth asking because he already knows something else, in such a way that he doesn't have to think about it: Shangque does not lie. And this is not a hypothetical "would you kill me if?". It's a question about a recent manifest fact, a question to which Shangque must know the answer. Shangque does not lie. Therefore, he expects to get the actual answer.

I think it's an important character point, incidentally, that he habitually asks questions because he wants to know the answer. A lot of people in positions of authority habitually ask questions they don't want the answers to at all. It's tedious.

He gets the answer "Why would I kill you? You are the most important person for me. You are like a brother. I would never betray you."

Shangque does not lie. This answer also corresponds with what Xiao Lanhua has independently told him about Shangque: "I think he is quite affectionate towards you. He would never betray you."

Consequently, he accepts it as true. Even though he is hilariously baffled, at this point, on how to process it or what to do with it.

Black Dragon has, just by being himself in a crisis, put his shoulder to the icebreaking machine and given it a tremendous shove.

We know that the new information has sunk in, and been believed, because he acts on that belief for the rest of the story, not hesitating to show weakness and ask the questions that he really wants help with.

In the Human Realm story, Shangque is an absolute star. He does not hesitate to approach and offer support, asking what is on his lord's mind, and increasingly getting this sort of thing in response:

Shangque does exactly the right thing here and offers fellow-feeling instead of an answer he hasn't got: what he says is roughly "same here, bro, and I don't know either". The "wait, does that mean this is normal?" look he gets in response is just cute.

That look is also saying "?!? ... huh. That actually helped." And because DFQC's inner child is the kind of child who only needs to be shown anything once, he re-uses this discovery by giving exactly the same kind of support to Xiao Lanhua, not much later.

Shangque may not quite understand why all this is happening, but his observation is accurate and he repeatedly intervenes to help process the difficult emotions without disaster - even physically. And always patiently and kindly. (I found out how to GIF!!)

I especially appreciate Shangque's habit of basing his words and actions on the facts directly in front of him, rather than on speculation. He can see what is happening, and he can see what sort of support is needed, and it just doesn't occur to him to do anything other than give it.

Dongfang Qingcang continues to turn to Shangque for advice right to the end of the story, including this desperate"how can I fix this?" moment in episode 33.

Shangque continues to hold up his end of the conversation with common sense, integrity, and kindness, as best he can, and Dongfang Qingcang continues to listen carefully, apply his own, admittedly sharper mind, and draw his own conclusions - right to the end.

When there isn't a question, Shangque listens and says nothing at all. In this scene, Dongfang Qingcang moves his hands as he talks, which he very rarely does. He's being extraordinarily trusting here: very unlike his body language back in the "Why didn't you kill me?" scene.

This little movement towards him! 💔

When Shangque briefly regrets a truthful answer, and follows it with "I shouldn't have said that," it's not because he's concerned about any likely response, but because he saw that it hit home, and he felt perhaps it was unkind:

But he's right, and has very much earned the right to say "stop that". The response, after a moment, is this beautiful, wordless gesture in which Dongfang Qingcang serves Shangque's wine first, in a silent "No, you were right. I was in pain, and being a dick about it. And you're still here. I'm sorry. And thank you".

Anyway this is a beautiful relationship which develops, with some really nice writing and acting, tells us a lot about both characters, and deserves some appreciation.

#love between fairy and devil #cang lan jue #lbfad #shangque #dongfang qingcang #shang que #black dragon #best boy #wang hedi #dylan wang #charles lin #lin bo rui

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i-heart-hxh · 5 months

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Hiiii! You're probably absolutely sick of these asks by now regarding the leaked ending, but as a relatively new fan, I have a possibly dumb question: what is the point of them revealing this scrapped ending? Just to get fans up in arms? Like obviously it's not being used, hence it's no good, but then what's the point of revealing it to us when the real ending is seemingly so far away? I personally feel it would make more sense, after the series actually ends, to say "well, here's all the other endings we considered! Haha glad we didn't use these!" and then it would be more lighthearted. Idk, it makes me ill at ease, but I'm more confused than anything?

I'm still trying to process what to do with this information as well, and discussing it with people and explaining what I think about it helps, so I'm definitely not sick of talking about it for now! It'll probably take me a while to reach that point, though I may need to space it out with other topics after a bit, haha.

So, I'm sure the main reason Togashi revealed this rejected ending is to leave his fans with something in case he dies suddenly or is otherwise incapacitated. While (as far as we know) his health issues don't seem to be life-threatening, they do seem to be excruciatingly painful, and after the sudden death of Kentaro Miura (the author of Berserk, an extremely famous and well-regarded manga) a few years ago, many people started discussing Togashi's health and the very real possibility he'll never get to finish HxH.

I think the bind he was put in was that he doesn't want to reveal how he plans to end the series or even give us good hints/insight into what he has planned, so he's providing this rejected ending as last resort option--just anything people can look at and say, "Well, at least we have one idea of how it could have gone," (at one point, anyway) if it comes down to it. As I've said in other posts, I think this ending fits a bunch of criteria that are delicate to balance, and so if he wants to provide something, this is all he can give us. Because this is an epilogue that's disconnected from the main plot and reveals essentially nothing, and because he doesn't plan to use it (or anything like it, I'm guessing), it's "safe" to put out there. That's probably why it's clichéd and boring, he can't give us anything juicy without putting himself in a tough situation writing-wise.

There is in fact a lot of uncertainty about whether Togashi will be able to finish HxH--the current arc is tremendously complex, Togashi goes on long hiatuses for his health often, who knows how much more of the series he has planned. The current arc is ambitious, to say the least. Togashi himself has said he doesn't know if he or HxH will perish first, but he still has things he wants to explore in it.

While I don't like this rejected ending he released at all, I do think it comes from his concern for his fans and guilt at his slow progress in the manga, and fear that he won't actually be able to finish. So, he wanted to leave something, anything, while still keeping as many of his writing avenues open as he can and not tipping his hand to any elements that are still in play. For instance, I think he didn't include Killua at all because he knows there's a lot of suspense among the audience about whether he and Gon will reunite, so by leaving him out, that's still completely ambiguous. Same with no Kurapika--will Kurapika live or not? Well, if he doesn't appear and just vaguely describes "this character's relative," etc., there's no hints about the outcome of that, either.

While I would have preferred he reveal other potential endings after the end of the series, like you said, he sadly may not ever have that luxury.

I haven't seen anyone else say this, but I'm also sure the letter itself and this reveal are PR--the last round of Puzzle, the Togashi Exhibition, just opened in Fukuoka the other day, and releasing this shocking ending now is guaranteed to generate buzz and publicity. So, that's an additional factor to keep in mind! I'm sure the timing isn't a coincidence.

I hope that answers some of your questions! It's an odd turn of events, but I think I at least understand the reasoning behind the reveal, if not all the choices made in the rejected ending itself.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #asks #ive-bean-boozled #my posts

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monsterintheballroom · 2 months

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It´s more of a questionnaire than interview and it´s under the cut :-)

Penelope Wilton: ‘I was dyslexic. People thought I was stupid’

The actress on flower power, the Beatles and her star turn in Downton Abbey

First film I saw at the cinema

My mother used the cinema as her nanny. She had an arrangement with the usherette where she would go shopping and leave my sister and me at the cinema. When she had finished shopping she would come down the aisle and wave a white hanky — that was our sign to leave. Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot was the first film I remember seeing. Jacques Tati was such a great clown.

First time I cried at the cinema

I don’t tend to cry over films. Usually I cry in front of paintings or at concerts. I did, however, sob through the film Brief Encounter. It’s so terribly touching. I still get a lump in my throat every time I watch it.

First time I performed on a stage

My first job was at 20, as Tammy the tightrope walker in a Christmas show at the Nottingham Playhouse. Theatre is always anxious-making and it gets worse when you’re older. There have been some funny things happening while I’ve been on stage, though. One audience member heckled Ralph Richardson and me over bad language during the play West of Suez when we performed in Brighton. Another acclaimed actor, who will remain nameless, was embarrassingly drunk on the stage once, forcing me to say his lines and mine. It was madness.

First TV show I watched

We didn’t have a television for a long time while I was a child. I think we had one for the coronation but then it seemed to go. It wasn’t until I was a bit older that I became aware of television, and even now I don’t seem to have much time to watch things, mainly because I’m busy acting in plays and TV shows like Downton Abbey, which was a wonderful experience. It was a surprise to us all, including the writer Julian Fellowes, that it was so successful here and everywhere. It was particularly lovely to work with Maggie Smith because she was one of the actors I had always admired. I would be very keen to come back to the show if it were to return. I can hardly leave it now.

First book I loved

I was dyslexic as a child, at a time when dyslexia wasn’t diagnosed. You didn’t get much help — people just thought you were stupid. My dyslexia seems to have got better with age, but when I was younger I was read to by my mother and my older sister rather than reading myself. The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame was a favourite.

First album I bought

Please Please Me by the Beatles. Growing up I listened to romantic music like Dionne Warwick on the radiogram in our sitting room. Nowadays I listen to more classical music, but I still have a soft spot for the Beatles. Sadly I lost that LP when we moved houses.

First concert I attended

The 1812 Overture by Tchaikovsky at the Royal Albert Hall when I was about ten. They had real cannons that went off. I only started going to concerts when I was older. My late husband, the [Roads to Freedom] actor Daniel Massey, was a great classical music fan. He taught me a lot about music, in particular jazz and Erroll Garner.

First pop-inspired fashion trends I adopted

Hotpants and thigh-length boots in bright pink suede. Once you went to drama school, you didn’t have any money and could do what you wanted looks-wise. It was all flower power then, so we would walk around with no shoes on, throwing flowers at each other. It was alternative but lovely.

First actor I admired

Michael Redgrave. I saw him give the most tremendous performance in Uncle Vanya at Chichester in 1963 when I was 17. Laurence Olivier was the Doctor. Together they were funny and heartbreaking. Redgrave was a wonderful actor and, more importantly, a wonderful man.

First moment I realised I wanted to be an actress

I went to a pantomime once and there was a whoosh and the curtain went up. There was this bright light and warm air came out. I thought, “I don’t know why I’m sitting in the dark here. I’d like to be up there.”

First famous person I met

Jonathan Miller when he came to Nottingham Playhouse to direct King Lear. I was a bit starstruck then, but meeting the royal family is the only time I get truly anxious.

First moment I realised I’d made it

Even at my age I don’t think I have. If you started, you wouldn’t be very good. So I will continue to try.

#penelope wilton #downton abbey

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radioactivesweet · 2 years

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Hello! Can I request a ROR Poseidon angst to fluff where reader is sad and Poseidon can’t stand that or something like that 🥺 thanks!

I think I may have been a little off topic, but I hope you'll like it anyway- I was feeling kinda inspired to write it this way^^

Poseidon was difficult. Difficult to deal with. Difficult to talk to. Sometimes he even made it difficult to love him. Nonetheless, you would kept trying to mantain that relantionship between you two, despite apparently being the only one doing it.

He was never here - sometimes you wondered if remembered about you - yet would unexpectedly return. You coudln't do anything to confront him, talking to him about these issues, just being patient, thinking that maybe one day he would change.

You had eternity before you, the chance to be forever with that person able to make you feel like you had butterflies in your stomach... the only one you could feel human with, yet you were doomed to love someone as cold as him. Your view on those feelings was different from him - it was easy for you to perceive how he seemed to be uncomfortable everytime you had tried to hold his hand like humans do.

It saddened you watching everybody else being happy with the person they were in love with while you were stuck with a seemingly apathetic god unable to reciprocate your feelings. He wasn't even trying to act like he cared, or at least not in a way you could notice, which only made the matter worse.

Unknown to you, Poseidon had noticed your hesitations and doubts, but was not willing to change his behaviour - being too prideful for something like that. He couldn't bring himself to admit he was wrong, that the way he had been acting with you had always been wrong. That he wasn't respectful enough. That the rumours spread across the Heavens about him being a tremendous lover were true. But he had always been too self-absorbed to even think about fixing your relationship.

Poseidon couldn't stand you and couldn't stand that aura of sadness that surrounded you neither. Because he knew he was responsible of it - and it made him feel guilty; you made him feel guilty, you made him feel human.

"Odi et amo." once had written a human poet you told him about. "I hate and I love" that was the way he felt about you. Poseidon wouldn't admit it, but he didn't appreciated this dualism. He would have gladly removed that hate, but for someone as stagnant as him it required help.

Fortunately, the god you trusted the most was no one less than Poseidon's eldest brother and the only person who could made him reason. Of course, just a few of encouraging wise words from the God of the Underworld wouldn't have been able to change Poseidon's point of view. Or you had underestimated his older brother's influence and Poseidon's idea of love.

His gaze would always be as freezing as the oceans he ruled over, but your hands would find his more and more frequently. He would come back to you more often than he had ever done before. He was the same Poseidon you knew, yet you could feel a change.

Poseidon was perfect and felt no need to get better, but was willing to put briefly aside his pride in order to conquer your happiness and chase away those shadows in your eyes. In his own way, he cared. Deeply, but was in need of time. Both of you were.

You had eternity before you and, maybe, one day he would have been able to smile at you the same way you did.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror #snv #poseidon #poseidon x reader #ror x reader #snv x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #ror poseidon #record of ragnarok poseidon #snv poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie poseidon #poseidon record of ragnarok #poseidon ror #poseidon snv #poseidon shuumatsu no valkyrie

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blackjackkent · 3 months

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We do get some more chat with Jaheira and Minsc before sleepz though!

"I think you might have made a terrible, terrible mistake. Chasing rumor halfway around the city and back. Crossing the Guild, wading through filth, defying the one creature upon whom your very life depends. All for a madman and his rodent."

"The Absolute threatens thousands - the entire Coast - and still you risked much to help one man. I should berate you, but... I can only say thank you."

"Your reasons were your own, but whether you meant for it or not, your fight is our fight. Both of us. To the very end."

Aw. <3 Jaheira is so fkn great, and look at the big grin Hector gets when she says she's with him to the end:

He really likes both Jaheira and Minsc a LOT to be honest. Jaheira reminds him a little of some of some of the older monks at the monastery (well, older when he was a young man; he was just starting to become one of those older monks himself when the nautiloid hit); she's wise and experienced and does not wear her heart on her sleeve, but she's also very kind, clearly feels things deeply under the surface, and believes strongly in the work that they are doing. And Minsc is... well, Minsc. I think on some level he reminds Hector of Karlach - intense balls-to-the-wall fighter with tremendous energy and a kind heart - and he would clearly put himself between any of them and danger in a heartbeat.

No matter what Jaheira says... it was worth it to help them both.

Amusingly, one of the dialogue options here is "Hm. None of that was a thank you," but like. It literally was? She literally said the words "thank you" two lines ago. XD

Instead, Hector just teases her gently - as I've noticed he's now done several times; it's not entirely characteristic of him, and speaks to the fact that he feels very comfortable with her and the sort of person that she is.

"Don't go getting sentimental on me, Harper," he says with a slight smile.

She laughs, and to his surprise he does hear a hint of a catch in it, a slight tremble that hints of tears. It is honestly rather touching; all of a sudden there is nothing of the frustration that came out earlier in the conversations, none of the sardonic deprecation or fear for the road ahead. She is tired; they have reached the end of the day and Minsc is safe - for all that he should never have been in danger in the first place, she has been worried for him for so many months... and now it is done, and he is safe. He is not another friend she has had to see into the ground.

"Ah," she says ruefully. "Those misty eyes are just age. Yes, I feel myself growing older as we stand here. So... lead the way. We are yours to command."

The message is clear; whatever tangled cocktail of emotions she is feeling at present, it is none of his business and she does not want to talk about it. He can certainly relate to that. But the understanding is between them, all the same.

-----

"Fine lodgings you have found, my friend! Boo is already in negotiations with the guardian spirits of this place. In Baldur's Gate, they are likely to be rat-formed and eager to charge rent. But Boo shall secure safe slumber for all! Now - what do you need of Minsc?"

I love him, your honor.

I also love the mental image this conjures of Boo sitting up guard and judo-chopping any rats that try to crawl out of the sewers.

"I'd like to know a little more about you."

"There is more than a little to know, I think. I am huge!"

Lots of fun back-and-forth to be had here. Annoyingly it's one of those conversations where I can't ask all the questions at once, so I had to reload a number of times to get everything. I'm not going to write all of it out, but some highlights:

He told Hector about Rashemen, described the "telthors, guardian spirits of every root, rock, and tree. Here in the Sleeping Lands, they are silent, but in the far north, they know how to speak still."

Apparently he went back to Rashemen for a while after BG2 (yay, my fic was unintentionally correct XD ); the "Iron Lord" there told him that his dajemma was done and he should work for the lord, but Minsc disagreed because Dynaheir was dead and he felt his dajemma could never be over. The Iron Lord felt disrespected, challenged him to a fight, and lost (obviously), at which point the Council of Witches told him he should probably get out of Dodge.

He did mention Aerie too! Hector commented that he seemed to toss the Wychlaran title around pretty freely between Dynaheir and Jaheira, and he answered: "You suggest that Minsc uses the term lightly? Simply leaps from Dynaheir to Jaheira, with no caring for the custom itself? An unworthy thought - and WRONG! In between there was also Aerie, my second witch. She needed a protector, and Boo suggested that it might as well be Minsc. And when she went her own way, Minsc and Boo set to thinking - there is power in the wychlaran bond. Far too much to be wasted on weeping. To use that power to serve the living does not sully the dead - it honors them." The way this is phrased seems like it could be read to imply that Aerie is also dead, but she is definitely not. However, it does concur with the assumption I made in the previous post, that Aerie basically was doing her own thing with Caden and no longer needed a protector and set Minsc free, more or less.

Hector pointed out, very carefully, that when Minsc described why Jaheira should be his new witch, he seemed to be just describing... friendship. Minsc thought over that for a minute... "Hm. So. Duty, camaraderie, help in troubled times - what I call the bond of a wychlaran, you simply call... friendship? I think I understand your meaning. Then Jaheira is my wychlaran. And so are you! You are my wychlaran! And Wyll is my wychlaran. And Astarion is my wychlaran! And Gale is my wychlaran! And Shadowheart is my wychlaran! And Halsin is my wychlaran! And Karlach is my wychlaran-- or, no, Karlach is a berserker, so... perhaps Minsc is *her* wychlaran? My thanks to you, wychlaran. You have given me much to think on - and should some enemy blow knock it loose again, Boo shall remind me." LOL. Minsc is not a subtle man but I honestly think he's fucking with Hector just a smidge here. (Or at least, to be honest, I hope he is; Minsc knows what a friend is, and his relationships with Dynaheir and Aerie are significant to him on a different level. The BG3 writers are doing fantastic with Minsc for the most part but this line, while funny, doesn't really play well for me exactly.) That said, I think Hector has a point that Minsc latching onto Jaheira specifically this way is him taking her friendship and trying to make it into this other important thing that he is missing, because he doesn't know how to handle being without a witch entirely. (Probably also a BIT of coping mechanism for having been teleported forward in time a hundred years, even though he doesn't actively claim he's bothered by it.)

Hector asked if Minsc knew anything about what deal Roah was striking with the false Jaheira and the Stone Loard; Minsc had no clue, unsurprisingly. Boo then piped up with quite a lot of agitated squeaking, which Minsc interpreted to mean that Boo thought he should open his mind up via the tadpole so that Hector could view his memories and perhaps understand elements that Minsc didn't. Minsc was clearly uncomfortable with the idea, though, and Hector isn't keen to use the worm more than strictly necessary, so he just told Minsc they'd find another way.

Hector asked about Boo and Minsc told Boo to explain himself. Boo squeaked. "Clear enough?" asked Minsc. XD Hector asked a little further and Minsc told roughly the story I was already aware of; he received a head wound from bandits and Boo showed up as he recovered. It is neither clear nor, I think, meant to be whether or not Minsc actually understands him. (Though I'm curious to see whether we are able to Speak With Animals with Boo on my druid playthrough. XD )

He talked a little about his experience getting turned into a statue. (Hector mentioned that Jaheira had told him about it; not sure if I missed a dialogue somewhere or that was supposed to have happened off-screen). He doesn't seem to know much about why it happened; just that he was ambushed while doing "cleanup" work in the city's underbelly and then woke up in the Wide a hundred years later when someone cleared the petrification.

And finally, some longer bits actually worth writing out -

Caden references! He cheerfully told Hector about fighting alongside "the Bhaalspawn" ("Gorion's Ward," etc... he has a NAME, Minsc! XD ) and fighting off evil. Hector, whose only exposure to a Bhaalist is Orin, was kind of skeptical: "How did you come to trust the spawn of such an evil god?" Kind of fun to see how the dialogue dances around making any specific assertions about the past game player character. In this case, Minsc goes off on a tangent: "A curious question. Are a child and his father always alike? Take Minsc! He does not have a clear memory of the face of his father, but he does remember tugging on the thick, red whiskers that sprang from his chin. A beard for the ages! Boo could have nestled there happily through even the harshest of Rashemen winters. Now - look closely at Minsc, and what do you see?" Hector, patiently, grinning in spite of himself: "You don't have a beard." "Correct! There are more whiskers on Boo's tiny face than on the mighty chin of Minsc! If Minsc did not inherit the flaming red hair of his mother, or the bushy red beard of his father, why would the spawn of Bhaal inherit his wickedness." Hector looks kind of impressed. "That's... surprisingly insightful." Minsc grins brightly. "I have many more thoughts about beards to share! I did not know you cared to hear them!"

-----

"I'd like to know your thoughts on our companions."

"You hear that, Boo? Your keen skills of observation have not gone unnoticed! Our friend wishes to consult your wisdom."

Hector blinks a few times rapidly but rolls with it. (Yet again he is quite like Caden in some ways. XD ) "Yes, Boo, I'd love to hear your opinions."

"So small is Boo that he is often mistaken for a pinecone, and many secrets are spoken in h is hearing! He will tell what he knows - but Minsc of course will translate."

Astarion first: "Oh, the pale scoundrel has his charms, it cannot be denied. But my friend, it gives me no pleasure to tell you - Astarion is not what he claims to be. Just last night, Minsc was dressing one of his many heroic wounds in camp when Astarion stumbled upon the scene. I tell you, he grew pale as death itself. He licked his lips and trembled so violently that Minsc thought he might faint on the spot! The truth is painful but undeniable. Astarion... is a coward. How can he fight the battles to come when he grows soft at the first sight of blood?"

[LOUD SQUEAKING FROM BOO] "...Just one moment." [MORE SQUEAKING] "You are sure? And you could not have told me this before?" [SQUEAKING] "...Minsc may be mistaken. Boo presents compelling evidence that Astarion may in fact be a vampire."

Hector finds himself once again fighting the urge to grin; this seems to be his default state when dealing with Minsc. "I know. But don't worry, he largely gets by on rats."

"Minsc has met many vampires and never one whose smile did not hide treacherous teeth. But... as you say. It is good that we do not have any friends who could ever be mistaken for a rat, eh Boo? If the sun can bear to look upon Astarion's monstrous face, then so can Minsc and Boo! For now, at least."

(Wonder if he is thinking about Hexxat and their battle with her in the crypts of Athkatla, so many years ago...)

Wyll next: "Ah, the great Blade of Frontiers! A fine name. Minsc has no idea what it means, but it suits young Wyll's air of mystery well. It is good to know the city did not go unprotected while I wore pigeon droppings on the Wide. Jaheira did her part, of course, but she prefers to scowl from the shadows. The city needs a name. A face! Preferably a furry companion, too!" [LOUD SQUEAK FROM BOO]

"He has a companion, all right," Hector says dryly. "Her name is Mizora."

"Mizora. This is... some manner of exotic bird?"

"Close. A cambion, bound to him by an infernal pact."

"What? Wyll, the Blade of Frontiers of whom I heard, is no man to deal with devils!" [SQUEAKING] "Ahhh, Boo speaks sense as ever. There is goodness in Wyll; we have seen it! If there be a devil on his shoulder, then Minsc and Boo will sit astride the other! He will not be long in coming back to himself, I think."

Gale: "I do not wish to speak of the wizard." [SQUEAK] "I could not have said it better myself."

"Gale's great - what's your problem with him?"

"He came to me one night with a little book of mischief, full of words and their meanings. 'Posterior,' he says. 'Can you say posterior?' I refused! Minsc does not need to know the language of wizards!"

Hector, swallowing yet another smile: "Posterior isn't wizard-talk. It's another word for butt."

"It is an inferior word! Far too long to use in a battle cry, which is where a butt belongs! Gale would do better to educate himself in the ways of sword and steel than to throw these pointy words at Minsc. Ah - yes, Gale also owns a cat! A cat with wings! That is most unnerving for poor Boo!"

"You should give him a break - he's only trying to help."

"Never! If he is not careful, Boo will shred his books and use them as bedding!"

And finally, Halsin: "Who is Halsin?"

"The elven druid."

"Oh, the tiny puny elf with leaves in his hair and dirt under his fingernails. His name is Halitosin? How very unfortunate."

"Halsin," says Hector patiently.

"That is what I said."

"You're both giant hulking do-gooders; I thought you'd get along."

"Pah. Minsc saw the druid chasing himself in circles and sniffing his own butt last night! He has spent too long as a wolf and not enough as a man." [LOUD SQUEAKING FROM BOO] "NO, BOO! THE DRUID DID NOT BEAT MINSC AT THE ARM-WRESTLING! IT WAS NOT A FAIR MATCH, AND HE TURNED INTO AN OWLBEAR HALFWAY THROUGH, AND THERE WAS GREASE ON THE TREE STUMP!"

-----

"When our minds mingled, I saw some... strange things."

"Oh? The mind of Minsc is a simple place. Of what strangeness do you speak?"

Narrator: The memories resurface, a lifetime of battles blurring into one. The single constant is Minsc, launching into the fray no matter the foe - be they god, monster, or man. It seems just the barest glimpse of what the man before you has ssen and done, but enough to know that he has no right to still be alive."

"Ah! Wait! That look in your eyes - I know exactly what visions of Minsc you have seen, to cause you such wonder..."

"My pants! Thrice-laced in the Rashemaar style, so that a berserker might split skulls without fear of splitting britches too. They *are* fiendishly complex, but fear not for Minsc! With training, he has learned to master the many little knots."

"Never mind your pants," Hector says firmly. "You've walked between planes, fought gods!"

"Well, as have you, no? Do not forget that when you gaze into Minsc, Minsc also gazes into you! We both fight evil, wherever it is found. The who and where are less important than the hamsters you meet along the way. On this matter of sharing memories - I see no reason for us to worry at one another's worms. If there is more we wish to know, we can simply... ask, no?"

Hector is very okay with this; he does not want to use the tadpole at all if he can help it. "Of course. A warrior speaks their mind, instead of reading others."

"Exactly so! If I must peer into the mind of my enemy, I use an axe. For friends, there is ale. No, my friend. If you fear you have a question that Minsc cannot answer, then you can simply ask Boo!"

I repeat: I love him, your honor.

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #holy shit i thought this was just gonna be a short camp convo but minsc had SO much to say!#and i was just gonna do highlights but then i realized it's minsc and it's ALL highlights #he doesn't miss #realistically this post is like 95% just for #springagainafter #so she can experience all the minsc and jaheira content vicariously XD #hector is really happy they're both in the party now though <3

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dennydraws · 4 months

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Here is to 2024!

Hello, hello ~ I didn't get to do a proper new year journal entry about 2023, about plans for 2024... so here it is! \o/

I think 2023 was a year of growth for me. I finally invested into getting an ipad and procreate and while it was the cheapest possible I could grab, it tremendously improved my art in both speed and quality. I realized my biggest issue with digital art was how tired I was after work. I just couldn't bring myself to hunch over my desk and even if I was dying to draw I just couldn't. But the ipad made it possible to draw everywhere and after work, drawing from the couch was like a blessing! I don't look into investing further into bigger ipad, the gen 9 one is absolutely perfect for my needs so far. :>

2023 was no buy new art supplies year! I attempted to do big art challenge where I use my current art supplies with reckless abandon ...but for one reason or another (ok lets be real, I just juggle too much at once xD;; ) I couldn't keep up. However, I did resist buying new art supplies and gave away most if not all that weren't working for me! Which felt great! It's just so sad seeing art supplies that aren't used and seeing someone excited to receive them just gave me ultimate warm fuzzies :D Going into 2024 I think to continue with the no buy art supplies until my current stash is reduced some. Not that I have abundance of brands and things but I tend to be on the minimalist side and I don't enjoy having clutter of supplies if I can help it.

Onto 2024 with... hopefully a Youtube Channel! That's right! That's a new thing :D;; I want to start doing art youtube videos! But also, again let's be real. I don't know if I will be able to keep up with it. So I don't want to overly invest into it money wise but also, it's something I've wanted to do for years now but something kept getting on the way. So I think I want to try it now! I have this giggly excitement over the idea of planning what pictures to draw and editing and showing the process and talking about it... or talk about art and life in general, I hope it will be fun! And I hope it will be fun to watch for whoever might be interested to give it a look :D Return of the sketchbook flip through videos? :D;; Of course every beginning is hard and awkward and it will be sloppy but also, that's also part of the fun! I want to keep it casual and fun - no stress, only good vibes!

Sneric Comic, Sneric Comic! Oh, boy I need to get back into the gist of things again! XD I have outlined chapter 10 but the story bits after are a bit on the vague side. I'm still looking forward to putting the story together and printing it one day to have it on my shelf and be like - another one done! \o/ I'll get there, slow and steady!

So... onto 2024 where I hope I will do more with my art than scatter images through social media. And of course new adventures in FF14! And at last Eiyuden comes out (I backed it way back during kickstarter :D!) and maybe we'll finally see the Suikoden remaster come out too!

Okay that got too long! Thank you for stopping by, dear reader! I hope 2024 is amazing for you and full of positive growth!

#Good Morning!#Journal #Denny Rambles #let's gooo into 2024!

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gayleviticus · 1 year

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i think dantes plan for gaining the philosophers stone in fma 03 feels kindve awkward on a plot level, because yu'd expect the logical synthesis of 'philosophers stone is made of people' and 'causing wars to make the stone' would be 'amestris is genociding people in order to directly churn them into a Stone'

so the fact 03 instead goes for the more convoluted 'war and disaster makes people desperate for the Stone which means they will massacre others to make it' seems a really weird and unnecessary bump in the road plotwise against the straightforward elegance of 'cause war to make the stone yourself'. and yes, there is a plot reason given for it (or at least implied?): making the Stone requires both great skill and is very dangerous, so Dante doesn't want to do it herself. but I get the feeling that surely after 500 years and with a military dictatorship full of state alchemists at her disposal she could have found a more reliable method for having others make the Stone than 'cause trouble and hope someone is both smart and reckless enough to make it'

BUT I think it's another one of those 03 writing decisions that is messy plotwise but extremely interesting theme wise, because I think it helps tie together a lot of the big threads to do with war and equivalent exchange. the philosophers stone is a fabled treasure that lets you bypass equivalent exchange; except that's not true at all because making it requires the tremendous cost of thousands of human lives.

im having a bit of a hard time piecing my thoughts together here but i think eds line towards the finale about how there's no war we aren't involved is really important. the elrics began their journey believing in the fairy tale philosophers stone and joined the genocidal military because it was convenient to them. they believed that equivalent exchange would mean all their hard work would pay off eventually, but I think in another sense they didn't really understand that equivalent exchange means actions have consequences. just as the prosperity of powerful nations and its citizens comes from imperialism, so too does the magic of the philosophers stone stem directly from violence and bloodshed of war.

but the thing is, if dantes plan was just to have the military make the stone directly from war and massacre... it would be s typical evil bad guy plot and nasty and evil but nothing to do with our heroes. but the fact her plan relies on individuals seeking the stone changes things up I think - if ed and al were just a bit more ruthless that could very much have been them. The War for the philosophers stone very much has something to do with them. it's not an evil scheme they're helplessly embroiled in as victims.

and the fact this then means scar turns the tables on the military to make them into a Stone is also v interesting because it manages to be such a nuanced depiction. the elrics are clearly against it. but 03 often depicts the elrics as wrong and naive in their ideals, and it's undeniable the amestrian soldiers have done terrible terrible things in liore. scar is no longer even really an anti villain, but an anti hero, and his final act is to bequeath the stone as a gift to alphonse. but at the same time, even if we find scars motives here deeply sympathetic - the fact is it's still exactly what Dante wanted, all the same.

and so I think the Liore arc manages to have this really nuanced and open to interpretation depiction of violence and vengeance and killing that doesn't feel preachy but also doesn't flinch from being very upfront about the stakes. if we want to celebrate scar killing 7000 soldiers as an unambiguously good thing there's the awkward fact that Dante doesn't care who dies to make the Stone as long as it gets made. But it's hard to disapprovingly tut tut about how killing is bad and revenge is bad when characters like scar and Rose are so sympathetic and understandable.

not to mention of course the fact that Dante herself fully rejects the concept of equivalent exchange and hence of taking responsibility for her actions, even as she fancies herself as humanity's guardian. she wants other people to do the work for her and then swoop in just so she can live a little bit longer. she herself never comes even close to paying the price for the Stone.

#anyway tldr is i think dantes scheme re the stone allows for the stone to be thematically important in a lot of diff ways #than if it was just 'the government is churning people into stones through war'#fma 03 #fma 2003 #fma 03 meta #fma #my posts #fma 03 spoilers #fullmetal alchemist 2003

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niceminipotato · 10 months

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Hello,

Here’s the next little installment to my little PRIDE fest. Now this one gave me trouble only because I wanted to keep the author’s writing still but that did prove quite difficult. I still tried and I hope you all enjoy. This little fic was for Ead and Sabran from Priory of the Orange Tree. This is my favorite book of all times as of now and Sam is my favorite author. Anyway I do hope you like it. (I got the image online and I couldn’t find the source but this is the dust jacket for the book so yeah)

PRIDE - Irrevocable

It had been a long day, not the longest since she had returned to the priory but long enough that she craved the solitude her new chambers provided. Despite the time that had already passed she still felt as though the chambers did not truly belong to her. Oftentimes she wondered if the day would come when she would feel completely at home in the large rooms. A gentle and tremendously welcomed breeze caressed her skin as she sat out on the balcony. The thunderous roar from the Wail of Galian helped her settle while the ever present scent from the orange tree lulled her further.

Five years had passed since her parting from the land of the deceiver, from Inys, from Sabran, the other half of her soul. The time spent away from her had been difficult and at times painful, however, what they had said—more importantly what Sabran had said—remained true. The South needed the prioress and Virtudom needed its Queen. They each had things to do, problems to take care of, people to lead. While she was no queen, as Sabran was, she still was part of the thread that held the cloth together, and thus leading was something she, as much as Sabran, needed to take care of.

Many a night she dared dream in the vastness of her bed that there beside her lay the one she loved above everyone else. She would feel the ghost of cold smoothe fingers caressing her skin, igniting that deep well of fire within. Just under the scent of the orange tree she could smell the creamgrail in Sabran’s hair. In the rush of the water she could hear the soft hum of her voice. There in the dark with her thoughts for companions she wished she was prioress no more. Wished she was slayer no more. That the threat of Fyredel was not one she had to worry for. She relished in those selfish moments, where the weight upon her shoulders would lessen and all that mattered was the way Sabran would fit in her arms.

“I thought I would find you here.”

“You bring news, Chassar?”

“Some say lack of news is far better than many.”

Chassar joined her on the balcony. The weight of years were showing more and more in the lines of his face as time went by. Sometimes she wondered when he too would leave her to be with the Mother.

“Wise words.”

“Eadaz, you look tired.”

“Is that why you are here? Have you come to tuck me in as you did when I was a child?” She let out a chuckle and he smiled at her.

“If it is required, Prioress.”

Silence filled the space between them for a time. Ead knew there was something bothering him and though she disliked having to wait for explanations she remained quiet and waited.

“Last time Sarsun returned he brought something.”

“He did?”

“He did.”

Tilting her head in question she wondered why Chassar had brought this up now and why he had waited this long. “Did he bring news? I sent him out the evening before last since I had received no news.”

“If by news you mean an Inysh letter then yes he did.”

Ead perked up at his words, her eyes traveling to the pocket of his tunic. The fact that the letter had been kept from her was now a forgotten matter. She wanted to read her words, smell her scent, see that lovely crest she used only for her. Her heart thrummed in her chest in expectation.

Chassar placed his hand over it drawing her attention back to his face. The lines on his face were more pronounced as he frowned at her. He seemed displeased, almost disappointed. She could not yet understand why. Not until he spoke.

“The daughter of the deceiver has little need for the priory, Eadaz. The amount of letters the two of you have exchanged is absurd. What could the Inysh possibly need from you? When they have yet to accept the fact that Galian was a liar. What could they need when we are still seen as heretics?”

Her blood began to simmer but she cooled herself with a deep breath. “After all this time, Chassar, one would think you would have figured out the answer to your questions, without having to ask me.”

“Eadaz, you are the prioress. You have a duty to the priory. To the south.”

“I have a duty to the world. This new world we are bringing. This world after the Nameless One. Have you forgotten what our mission is, Chassar? What we sand for?”

“I have not forgotten what our mission is. The priory stands to guard not only the South but the world. It is a great honor to do this and I am proud of all that you have done. But you need to understand that divided attention does not allow success.”

“My attention is not divided. I am here. I am working to attain what we have yet to attain. Exchanged letters do not change that.”

Rising from her chair she moved inside the chamber, Chassar following close behind. If her work had been lacking, if she had somehow been careless, she would understand his questioning, however, she had been anything but.

“Eadaz, why her, the pretender? Why Sabran Berethnet?”

The way he spoke her name made Ead turn. “Chassar, when you talk about her, be sure to mind your tone. If you have a letter for me, leave it here and go.”

“I only worry for you, my child.”

“Prioress.” She corrected.

“Eadaz.”

“Do not patronize me. You kept correspondence from me, you have questioned my integrity, and now you are treating me as you would a child.” Ead watched the guilt riddling his face. “I have worked tirelessly. I have suffered. I have given my whole self to the priory and I regret nothing. If given the choice I would choose this life time and time again. A portion of my heart, however, belongs to Sabran. Sings only for her. Again if given a choice, my heart would belong to her time and time again. I will make no apology for it.”

“I understand that there are forces that draw us to another. But Eadaz, she is there and you are here. This love you speak of is barely a bud that cannot be watered.”

“The bud you speak of has already opened. It is strong and can weather any storm.”

Chassar chuckled and shook his head. “You speak with milk and honey in your head. You speak as naive lovers would of the Milk Lagoon.”

“I speak the truth. What I feel for Sabran Berethnet,” her name felt sweet in her tongue and fell gently from her lips, “is irrevocable. Not the distance nor the time will make it less real. Not our past nor our present can take it away. This Milk Lagoon you mention, we will find it.”

She was not sure whether it was her words or the conviction with which she said them but she could see his walls going down. The disbelief and uncertainty in his brow softened until he let out a sigh of defeat.

“Forgive me, Eadaz. I only worry for you.”

“I know and I am forever thankful for you caring for me. If I ever stray I know you will bring me back to the correct path.

“I will always do my very best.” Chassar reached for her and she let herself be drawn forward and into a hug.

“I love you, Chassar.”

“And I love you, light of my eyes.” As he pulled away he reached in his pocket taking the letter and presenting it to her. “Here. I shall leave you to your letter.”

“Have a good night.”

“You too, Eadaz. Do try to rest. I was not lying before. You look tired.”

She wanted to tell him the letter in her hand would remedy that but decided against it once she saw his knowing gaze. Once she nodded he left her alone in her new chambers once more. Heading for the balcony she carefully tore the seal with that lovejay crest Sabran used only for her. After settling on the chair and a deep breath she began to read.

My dear Ead,

Tell me, how do you fare? I am well, tired, and at times irritable but well. As I sit here, I wonder what it is you are doing. Perhaps you are hunting wyrms or riding with Aralaq. Or perhaps much like myself dealing with boorish leaders and their endless opinions. Meg tells me you would probably tell them to leave you be as you have better things to do. I did that the other day, and I think it may not have been appreciated. It was fine though. Loth made peace with them in my stead. I suppose, at times, being queen also has its merits.

On a different matter, I think Sarsun has decided my bed is a far better place to rest in than the aviary and I am inclined to agree. Why nobody told me how foul that place could be baffles me. When I went the other day the knights kept looking at me as if I had gone mad. They should have warned me. Instead I soiled my skirts and because of the foul smell I ordered all of the garments I had burned. Again only you ever told me the truth—as much of it as you could.

I have been meaning to ask you something. It is not because Ros, Kate, Meg, and Loth have been asking, truly. But do tell me, Ead, after these ten years, what are we going to do with all of these rose petals? For now I will keep them with me. Also if you would, please write to Loth, jealousy is evident on his gaze, especially when you write to Meg and not him. He tells me it is fine but we both know how much that word means to him.

Time draws short, Sarsun is giving me that impatient look. It would have been better if I had written before he arrived. I shall do that next time. Never forget, I love you Eadaz uq-Nara and my heart still knows your song as I know yours knows mine.

Yours,

Sabran Berethnet

With a smile she made her way to bed, the letter and petals clutched to her chest. She lay there her cheeks almost hurting from her grin and she closed her eyes briefly before opening them again and thinking back to the question Sabran had posed.

“I often wonder about the same Sabran. What are we to do with all of these?”

#little pride fic #pridefest #ead x sabran #queen sabran #eadaz du zāla uq nāra #the priory of the orange tree

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natalchartnurtures · 5 months

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Venus Got A Lil' Emotional Today

Note: This post might not give you anything new if you're at an intermediate or advanced level of being on the astrology wildride :p

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Water Venus, on a good day: "My heart is a vessel of boundless compassion, where tenderness and understanding blossom. My love is like water, an endless wellspring, and I am its gentle guardian."

Why?- Arguably one of the most precious placements, in my opinion, Water Venuses on their good days truly do God's work. They give themselves unconditionally to people they love, all while ensuring they take care of themselves as well. It's nurture and emotional intelligence at its peak in a social, interpersonal interaction setting. You can truly model what the internet calls a "healthy relationship": balanced, equal, loving beyond bounds, and, of course, filled with a generous dose of passionate romance.

Speaking of romance, it is the trademark of this placement. You can romanticize anything you like—your life, struggles, or crush; anything goes. It could help you get through a lot of life's uglier situations, you know? It's kind of like your coping mechanism. But, it's your superpower—your love. The depths with which you can hold someone—be it your partner, your child, your friend, or even your own parent in need—don't matter. The subject of your affections always gets your all. That is only IF you feel comfortable with the person. That's your boundary because you love yourself pure and deep; you need to have this layer of protection so you won't be taken advantage of (which is something a lot of Water Venuses on their not-so-good days experience).

Take, for example, how someone with a Scorpio Venus maybe wouldn't like to share themselves with just anybody because you all understand that not EVERYBODY has it in them to handle all that beautiful intensity, authenticity, and expression of deep passion. Your discernment is high because your vulnerability is powerful, and the level of trust required here is immense to support the deep intimacy on the level of the mind as much as on the level of the body. Hence the thick layer of mystery and secrecy around you all, especially in romantic settings, which makes you all look even more sexy to suitors caking on the OBVIOUS physical sexiness going on like, girl, I see you.

This energy also shows up as gentle nurturing paired with a fierce sense of protection for all things you care about. Cancer Venus tends to have an instinct to fight for what has a part of your heart. Motherly instincts if you may? But this placement really marries the fighter and the lover trope; it's mind-blowing, really. Here, Venus's love could be expressed in more emotional ways such as creating a safe space for emotional vulnerability or expressions of tenderness and nurturing of the other through whatever you enjoy nurturing other people with, like through cooking (to nurture loved ones physically), through deep conversations (mentally), or giving your loved ones tarot readings even? (Spiritually); whatever you define nurturing is applicable here.

And then again, a Water Venus could manifest as the dreamy, otherworldly, fantastical kind of love that is almost angelic in its frequency when realized in its higher octaves. You bet I'm talking about you, Pisces Venus. You have a wise kind of love that also simultaneously feels childlike and all-encompassing. Compassionate, forgiving, and devotional—the power of love meets the divinity of a human. Powerful as words can describe. This placement puts the unconditional in unconditional love :p; it's quite beautiful to see. And because of their characteristic lack of conditions when it comes to their way of loving, it's quite healing for the rest of us to experience their love, especially for the ones that have faced a tremendous amount of "conditional love."

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Thanks for stopping by, kind soul :)

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thewatercolours · 2 months

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Scrapped KQ Scene: "Roadtrip"

Ok, so I've been working on Goblin Graham again, and I was more or less following my outline from 2021, which is not the most coherent thing in the world. (That happens when the story is actually the decision, partway through a challenge, to see if you can force all the prompts to relate to each other.) And honestly, sticking with that original outline is no longer serving the story. Because I realized I had made Graham run away from Daventry while the castle was being besieged. mainly because I want his family to show him lots of love after the whole goblin transformation thing. Also back then I had never shown the Crackers, and I wanted to explore them. But - none of this works character-wise. Graham would die before running away from Daventry in its time of need. He is brave, and ready to fight for his people. He might falter, but not to the point of running off to Llewdor! And by this point, I've shown the Crackers many times. I don't need to shoehorn them in. I do need to do some rethinking to figure out how to keep certain things from the original storyline, because as clunky as Rippling Consequences is, I want it to work, at least technically. The setups are paid off, etc.

I was really grateful to @captmickey for talking this through with me and offering some helpful insights. She suggested that I take the scene where Graham flees and just make it its own thing. I don't think I'm going to reshape it, but I do like some of the things I did with this scene, so I am going to post it as is just for fun. It'll help me move on from the sunk cost and get the story back on track. So here we have it - the non-official, out of character scene where Graham behaves like a coward and runs, but also has bonding time with a bridge troll.

---

Those who have never journeyed overland in the palm of a bridge troll might assume that such a mode of travel saves time. Ordinarily, they would be right. Though trolls are a clumsy, lumbering lot as rule, the gigantic length of their stride makes up for it. Further, trolls never worry about following the twists of the road, or detouring at mountains and rivers. As long as you have no plans to cross the sea, you can more or less travel as the crow flies when you ride with a troll.

But if secrecy is an issue, well, you’re better off overloading a lame donkey with luggage and not watering it the whole way. You will get there faster.

Every day Graham and Olfie got just a bit further north, by way of an awful lot of east and west, and a significant amount of south. They chose secluded routes through the wilderness, giving towns and farms a wide berth. Bridge trolls weren’t unheard of outside of Daventry, but most surrounding nations distrusted them. Graham suggested that the best way to avoid attracting monster-slayers was to keep their heads down, sometimes literally. Olfie crept through the Miser’s Hills on his hands and knees. Graham rode on the bridge, trying to keep his balance. There wasn’t much to hold on to unless he sat by the very edge. That seemed unwise, but he tied himself in place with his cloak. His body lost height each day. The cloak was now about twice as long as he was, giving him lots of material to work with.

“Isn’t that the cape with big ol’ pockets?” his enormous friend asked after the first few hours. “Olfie could tie it to something. You could just ride in one of the pockets.”

But the experiment did not go far. The splint and poultice helped, but getting in and out of pockets proved difficult with Graham’s ankle. Besides, he found it easier to keep it from bending at odd angles if he rested on a flat surface. Once past the Hills, he spent most of his daylight hours in Olfie’s hand.

He leaned back against the tremendous cupped fingers. and watching Serenia’s hinterlands thicken as they passed. By daylight, his vision blurred and most colours washed out, but the contrast between light and shadow was sharp. The sunshine itself felt glorious on his clammy skin. When night fell, the world came back into focus, alive in luminescent purples and greens. Even under the new moon, he could pick out insects crawling a quarter mile off.

Scrub gave way to forest. Graham enjoyed trailing his hand on the overstory, much like he used to dip his hand into the water when he tagged along in the rowboat with his sister. Forest gave way to… well, a forest that clearly went to the gym and ate five dozen eggs every day. Massive paleghost trees dwarfed even Olfie, great-trunked and covered with what had to be the world’s thickest moss. Sometimes Graham snatched a leaf or a tree flower as they passed, just to give his overlong fingers something to fiddle with. He’d always been a fidgeter, but his goblin fingers were impossible to satisfy, just for sheer restlessness.

It did help that he and the troll talked so much.

Roadtripping with Olfie was a revelation. They had always gotten on well, and Graham had never felt he needed to put on a kingly act for him the way so many had needed him to since his crowning. But Graham had never taken him exactly… seriously. He was grateful to him for all the times he has been kind and useful. But, well, he was Olfie.

But with nothing else to do day in and day out, they talked more than they had in the four years since the tournament. Olfie had infinite patience for his too-short tongue and stiff lips. He never once interrupted Graham as he tried to sort out his pronunciation. After the king had offered his fifth or sixth awkward apology for speaking unclearly, the troll had said, “Frankly, Goosie, Olfie doesn’t really notice. All us trolls got some got teeth that go outside our mouth, not in, so learning you tiny people’s words takes a while for us too.” He considered. “Kinda nice you slowed down, actually. Olfie can’t keep up when people talk too fast.”

And oddly, it was kind of nice. If the path was slow and circuitous, the stories were allowed to be too. At first, they talked little besides choosing which way to go, when to stop and forage, when to bed down for the night. Then Olfie pointed out a ravine with flowers growing up its steep sides, which apparently looked something like the chasm where he had grown up.

“Funny,” said Graham. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen flowers like those in Daventry.”

“Olfie’s not from Daventry. Started out in the lowlands here in Serenia. Kind of far from here, though.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“Yup,” Olfie said, a tad wistfully. “You’re not the only outsider.”

The silence lingered. “When did you come to the kingdom, then?” Graham asked at last.

“I’m not great at keeping track. Maybe fifteen years? Ish?”

“And…” Graham’s ears sank a little despite himself, “you still think of yourself that way after fifteen years? As an outsider?”

“Nah! Livin’ the dream,” said Olfie heartily, stopping to ginger his way over a boggy patch which probably qualified as a whole bog. Then he swallowed. “But kinda.”

“I’m sorry.” Maybe he should have said more, find out if Olfie wanted to talk about it. But Graham wasn’t sure he had the stability himself, even to listen.

“Hey, it’s not the worst thing to be,” said Olfie, with a consoling, toothy grin. “Least you got an outside to go back to sometimes, ‘stead of being stuck inside.” He raised his hand up to his face so he could look Graham in the face. As usual, it was a little overwhelming to be so close to Olfie’s eyes, one of which had passed as his “eye of a hideous beast” entry. But right now ‘hideous’ was very much a relative sliding scale. “‘This is just a guess, but with all this heading north - you’re going back, right? Home?”

Graham nodded, staring down at his lap.. “Yeah. Home.” He hoped so.

“Good idea.”

Graham shrugged. “Maybe.” He could think of a few cynical responses to go on with, but cynicism hadn’t got him and the villagers through the caverns. He took the second option - curiosity. “So, what’s it like to grow up in a troll chasm?”

And so the stories began properly. They compared earliest memories, roared over most embarrassing moments, and traded lighthearted gossip about Daventryfolk. Nothing too recent at first, but one thing bridged another. By the fourth day, Graham started to haltingly share the story of what had happened after Olfie had left him in the town square that night. Of the aching choices he’d had to make, and of the enchanted cell he’d been thrown into when his first escape attempt failed.

Olfie didn’t have much to offer by way of insights or comfort. But by gum, he listened, listened in a way that was almost better than talking. “And then what happened?” he would say every now and again.

It was… a lot easier than he’d anticipated telling his story would be. Maybe it was because Olfie wasn’t human either. Or maybe it was just the nature of this strange journey that didn’t quite feel real, this step-by-step rise and fall with no crisis, no escape to plan, no friends to guess how to keep alive, no split second decrees to make, no previous king to live up to. Would the words come so freely when they arrived in Dapplethorpe and everything became real again?

Even wondering began to make it grow real again too soon.

One night, as the campfire in the clearing burned low and they finished off the last of their hunter-gatherer supper, Olfie cleared his throat. “So, King Goosie,” he said hesitantly. “You were pretty quiet today.”

“I guess so,” said Graham, gathering up the greasy pheasant bones. He could feel that with a little pushing, the day’s new thoughts would come out, and he wasn’t sure it was wise to share them.

Olfie pressed on. “Yeah. It must get a little boring for you. Anything Olfie can do to liven things up?”

Graham dropped the bones into the ashes and began raking them over with the roasting stick. “You’ve been great. Honestly the problem’s all on my end.” He should have stopped there, but something unruly in him went on. “ It can’t exactly be your fault when you’re just following the King’s orders.”

“Gosh.” Olfie raised an eyebrow. “Orders. Makes it sound all official.” He sounded slightly hurt.

The king sighed, trying to backpedal. “Sorry. I’m just a little out of sorts tonight. And I’m also sorry for… for dragging you into this. I can’t imagine this is how you were planning to spend your week.” But here it was again, the urge to pedal forward. “And, and if anyone gives you trouble when you get back for abandoning the siege, I want you to tell them it was on my order. Then they won’t blame you.” (Blast it, he knew where this would lead. Why push it?)

Olfie’s great eyelids narrowed. “You walked all the way to Daventry on that leg. You tried to get in but couldn’t ‘cause of the magic.You found out the goblins and little Manny Man had the place surrounded, and they’d grab you if they saw you, probably. You didn’t exactly just abandon the siege.”

Graham didn’t look up from the ashes. A note of anger he himself didn’t quite understand crept into his voice. “OK, to make it plainer - I’m pretty much running away. When i said we should try not to be see, I admit I wasn’t thinking as much about monster-slayers as that… my own guards might be following us. To take me back. Because I ran away, like an idiot.”

“You got Baker Man and the rest of the little town people home safe. And you tried -”

He raised his voice further. “I’d been steeling myself to be okay with my friends seeing me as I am. But when my doctor screamed and crawled backward to get away from me, I chickened out. And ran away.”

“But home.”

The roasting stick snapped. “Even worse. Home with my tail between my legs and everything I tried for trailing behind me. Again. Don’t you get it?” The goblin snarl rose to the surface.

Olfie frowned and reached round the firepit with his thumb and forefinger. For a moment Graham thought the troll was going to grab him. But he stopped, and instead laid his hand down on the grass, right next to Graham. “So why are you going home anyway?” he said, lowering his great voice.

Graham didn’t answer. There were several things he could have said, but they all sounded childish. Funny how you could try to verbally whack someone over the head, trying to prove to them how stupid and cowardly and maybe even treacherous you’d been, and yet still have an inner eight-year-old who thought sounding babyish was worse.”I don’t know,” he said at last, the snarl gone. “I had all kinds of half-plans when I first told you we had to go. I thought I might make things worse. Or that there was nothing I could do. I mean, Daventry’s being attacked by goblins. And Manny. And Manny came to my cell while I was transforming, and he stopped me at the door to the surface. And, and I didn’t know what to do either of those times.”

“You kicked him,” Olfie reminded him encouragingly, clenching a fist and smiling.

“Yeah, I kicked him. Big deal. My point is - Daventry’s trying to defend itself right now. Even if they recognized me, they couldn’t trust me. Aren’t you constantly asking yourself what I might do, what I might try, now that I’m a goblin?”

“No?” said Olfie, puzzled.

Graham laughed grimly. “Thanks. But you’re you. Not everyone sees things like you. And even if they did… Look, I still plan to go back and handle this responsibly. Really. But I need to figure out what that would involve.” Olfie began to speak, but Graham cut him off. “I’m sorry I blew up just now. That wasn’t fair to you.”

The troll nodded soberly, and rose to his feet. The ground shook under him and Graham had to dodge a few unsettled sparks from the fire. “Ya know, this clearing’s a little cramped, and Olfie spotted a nice queen-size ditch just the other side of that treeline. Maybe we both could use the space tonight.”

(You know, I'm glad they had that conversation, because it was what alerted me to the fact that this scene felt all wrong. So - now we've had the scrapped scene, I can get on with writing stuff that works better.)

#graham behaving wildly out of character because the author didn't notice till embarrassingly late #scrapped scene #king's quest #king graham #goblin graham #my writing #fanfiction

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silver-ink-iron-words · 2 years

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I’m so glad you guys are liking it 🥰

---

CW - discussion of sexual assault

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Dinner Guest, Part 6

“You did the right thing.”

“I don’t remember asking you.”

“LaChasse would have tortured your friend. Tortured the kid. Probably even you, if you pushed them to it. You would have given in eventually, and then had nothing to show for your stubbornness.”

“Can you please just shut up already?”

“You didn’t have a choice.”

“Is that what you told yourself when you helped LaChasse imprison me?”

Clara fell silent.

They were in a second interrogation room – Clara standing to attention, Julian handcuffed to the table. They’d been sent to wait here while LaChasse delt with the kid.

Julian knew there would be some kind of consequence for the resistance he’d put up earlier. Increased security and restrictions, maybe a beating. But it wouldn’t be too severe. LaChasse couldn’t risk taking him out of commission, after all.

And frankly, even if they did hurt him badly, he deserved it.

The kid had started crying, when Julian explained to LaChasse how his powers worked. Splotchy, red-faced crying with quiet pleas and shuddering sobs. Clara was right, in a way. But what difference did Julian’s excuses make to the kid who would soon enough be holding disintegrated brain matter in his hands?

“I can help you,” Clara said suddenly, pulling Julian out of his thoughts.

Julian turned a weary gaze to her. “Sure. I take my coffee with cream and two sugars.”

She rolled her eyes. “I meant that I can help your friend escape.”

Julian stiffened, eyes darting around the room. Surely there had to be a recording device somewhere.

“That wouldn’t be very wise of you,” he said carefully.

Clara stepped closer, her voice hushed but focused. “There is a cargo truck leaving at 5 am tomorrow. The driver’s been paid off, and there’s one extra crate big enough to hold a single person.”

Julian blinked at her.

“You’re out of your mind,” he said.

“Listen, everything’s already set up. I just need your help getting your friend to the location. They don’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust you. Why the hell would you betray LaChasse like this?”

“Is it so hard to imagine why I wouldn’t want LaChasse’s empire to keep growing? Their recruitment rate has nearly doubled since you’ve started cooperating. They’re getting too powerful, and innocent people are starting to get hurt.”

Julian snorted. “Right. ‘Starting to.’”

“Getting you out would have been ideal, but it’s pretty obvious that you’re not going to willingly leave your friend behind.”

“How observant of you.”

“So, removing LaChasse’s leverage is the next best option.”

Julian tried to roll a crick out of his neck. “Why not just quit, if you don’t like what LaChasse is doing?”

“I don’t mind my job,” she said, running a hand through her hair. “But . . . let’s just say there are certain people who I want to stay hidden. Who could have easily stayed hidden, if it wasn’t for your annoying power.”

“Annoying is an understatement.” Julian tried to rub his face, but found that the handcuffs kept him from reaching. “Well, as inspiring as your sad excuse for a moral backbone is, I’m going to have to answer with a tidy ‘get fucked.’”

Clara’s look of surprise gave Julian a tremendous amount of satisfaction.

“You’ve given me no reason to believe you,” he explained. “And even if I did believe you, I’m not pulling any stunts that might endanger Alex.”

Clara looked for a second like she wanted to object, but must have decided that it wasn’t worth the effort.

“You’re no better than me,” she said instead, eyes narrowing. “People are going to get hurt, but you’re just as ready to throw morality out the window as I am.”

Before Julian could offer a sarcastic retort, LaChasse entered.

Julian hadn’t known what to expect, so he wasn’t sure whether or not the easy calm on their face was a good sign.

“Leave us,” they said to Clara. She walked out without acknowledging Julian. He was glad to be rid of her.

He felt increasingly less glad, however, as LaChasse strolled forward and settled into the seat across from him.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper chat,” they said, placing their elbows leisurely on the table.

“You know, I wonder sometimes if it wouldn’t have been smarter to just off myself.” He cast his gaze at LaChasse. “Or off you. Even if I died trying, it probably would’ve been worth it.”

LaChasse frowned. “You’re quite dramatic today. Is everything alright?”

The question nearly made Julian laugh. He peered at the diamond tracker bracelet still fixed on his wrist. “I’m tired, LaChasse. That’s all.”

If LaChasse was irritated, they didn’t show it. Their face was that same glassy calm.

“I hope you understand,” they said, “that I cannot allow you to disobey me.”

“You always find the creepiest way of saying things, don’t you?” Julian’s bones hurt. His limbs were weary. “I did listen to you. What, am I not allowed a moment of hesitation before I sell my soul?”

“No.” LaChasse’s voice was hard. “Not in front of others you are not.”

“Can’t let anyone see me question you, I take it?”

“It does set a troublesome precedent.”

“And what if I said tough shit? You can make me play your sick games, but you can’t turn me into a mindless tool. You can’t beat the thoughts out of my head.”

LaChasse studied Julian, their eyes roving. Then they pushed upwards, making the chair’s metal legs screech against the concrete floor. They walked around the table to him.

“Hey, what are you – ”

Julian was cut off when LaChasse grabbed his head and kissed him.

He screamed into the kiss. Tried to jerk back. But LaChasse held firm. He wanted to lift his hands to push them away, but the cuffs pulled taut when he tried.

Julian couldn’t do anything but sit there and slowly, horribly drown.

When LaChasse finally pulled away, Julian was trembling like a tree branch ready to crack in the wind.

“I find it interesting that you think I want you just as a tool, little bird.”

Julian let out a shuddering breath that crawled up his ribs like vomit.

LaChasse kept their death grip on his head. “I do not particularly care how long it takes. But you are mine, and someday you will act like it.”

“And why would I do that?” Julian wanted his words to burn like fire, but they came out withered and ashen.

LaChasse titled their head. “That partner of yours is rather attractive, too. I can see why you like them.”

Julian’s eyes widened.

“Many of my men have observed this fact as well,” they continued. “I have standing orders to leave them untouched. But orders can always change.”

“So I’m expected to endure that kind of thing, so that they don’t have to?”

LaChasse grinned. “Julian, didn’t you know? All the best heroes are martyrs.”

----

Julian and Alex waited at the rendezvous point, keeping a look out for Clara. The cold night air bit at their skin.

“Tell everyone I said hi,” Julian joked, a feeble attempt to fill the silence.

Alex gave a little smile as response, but it didn’t reach their eyes.

“Oh, except Gary. Tell him that he still owes me five bucks.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Alex turned their gaze up to the starless black blanket of a sky. “That you gave yourself up for me.”

Julian tensed. He’d anticipated this conversation, but that didn’t make it any easier. He’d hoped, somehow, to go his entire life without talking about this.

“Not entirely,” he said. “The reasoning was slightly more complicated.”

“But I was a central motivator?”

Julian let out a breath. “Yeah.”

Alex was silent for a long moment.

“Julian, I’m so sorry.” Their voice was pitched higher with the start of tears.

Julian’s heart panged. He wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulders. “Hey, don’t be. It was my decision.”

“You shouldn’t have done it. The things you’ve had to go through, all for – ”

“Hey, come on,” Julian said. “What’s with the doom and gloom? This’ll be my last chance to see you in a little while, babe. Let’s not ruin it.”

Alex peered at him. “I’m worried about what you’ll do after this.”

Julian plastered on a smile. “I’ll be okay,” he lied.

Alex nodded, but they didn’t look like they believed him.

Clara arrived not long after.

“Okay, we’re still running on schedule,” she said. She turned to the driver – a big burly man with a mustache. “Is there anything else you need before leaving?”

“No ma’am,” the driver said. “All’s left is for him to get in the crate.”

“Oh, by the way, Alex uses they/them pronouns,” Julian said.

Everyone looked at him, and stared.

He gave a confused smile. “Is there something on my face?”

Suddenly, Alex took his hand. “I love you, Julian. Please remember that.”

“What – ”

Clara raised her hand, and Julian’s entire body froze. He tried to cry out, tried to ask what the hell she was doing, but he couldn’t make a sound. Nothing could move but his eyes.

“Do it now,” Clara said to the driver.

The driver pulled out a small brown bottle, and poured the contents into a cloth.

“Sorry kid,” he said, as he placed the soaking cloth over Julian’s mouth and nose.

Julian looked to Alex. Their eyes were deep reflective pools holding many different emotions – sadness, worry, guilt.

But not regret.

Those eyes were the last thing Julian saw before the chloroform turned his vision to darkness.

Part 7

#hero x villain #villain x hero #villain #hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #whump #whumpblr #whump drabble #whump writing #whump snippet #writeblr #writing snippet #self sacrifice #kidnapping #kidnapping whump #captivity #forced kiss #not a prompt

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sparrowsortadrawzzz · 4 months

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bestie boo:

how do you draw POSITIONS YOUR SO GOOD WTHHHHHHH! teaxh me your ways oh wise one

AH!! aight deary here's how I do it:

bullshittery I have a very photographic imagination in general so that may help a lot too- but I draw basic stick figures and shapes, and think about the way their figure would shift (mainly if the pose is in movement. and if its multiple characters interacting with each other, then i think of how their weight would interact, or where theyd look when talking to them). I also think about how gravity would pull on things like hair and clothing, how the skin crinkles in the movement/pose, and sometimes sketch what joint/limb is behind it to get a better understanding! and if I'm REALLY struggling, I go to justsketchme online, and I mess around with a mannequin until the position is there, and I go off of that!

really it's about organic thinking and shapes, and carving away until you're satisfied. references help TREMENDOUSLY, and just looking up silly little poses to sketch a favorite character onto!

#the birds have spoken #YIPPEE MOOTS #YIPPEE MATCHSTICKERS #draw #art #art tips

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blackjackkent · 3 months

Text

All right, back into Hector's playthrough... left off having just gotten Minsc and Boo! I'm so excited. :D

Next priority is to save Florrick, bc I gather that's on a time limit before she gets hanged, and then go after Wyll's dad.

Lots of exciting stuff to do. :D Quick stop at camp first though to make sure that Minsc is getting settled in smoothly.

"Jaheira... Boo is trying his best to explain, but I still do not understand your anger!"

"Do not hide behind your hamster, ranger! You do not understand because you do not *listen*!"

OK, so maybe not completely smoothly. XD

This reads to me as Jaheira having a bit of adrenaline letdown; she's been worried about Minsc since before she even got to the Shadowlands and now she doesn't have to be anymore, and there have been a lot of other backed-up emotions waiting their turn, such as anger for having put himself/her in that position in the first place.

"We were the first to discover the cult. And if you had only waited, we might have marshaled our numbers and--"

"Good does not wait for evil to button up its britches! When it offers buttocks for the smacking, Minsc and Boo greet cheek with hand!"

Good old Minsc. XD

Hector and Co. are just watching this play out and looking sort of bewildered. Hector doesn't say anything yet though. In arguments among the companions he's traveled with longer, he has been willing to step in and take a hand, but I think he sees Jaheira and Minsc's friendship as something he stands a little outside of, and is even rather intimidated by. He's grown very close to the people he travels with, but the idea of a decades long friendship of such depth and shared challenge is outside his experience.

Say nothing.

"This mess falls on *our* heads, Minsc. The city under siege, its people poisoned by the cult - it all might have been avoided if you had just put your feelings aside and *listened*."

Hector tips his head thoughtfully to one side as he listens, and he feels a flash of sympathy for Jaheira. She is angry, yes - but at herself as much as Minsc. There is guilt under the words. She sees the moment of Minsc's capture as a turning point in the whole conflict.

And yet... had things played out as she describes, there is no guarantee things would have gone any better.

[INSIGHT] "Or the trail would have ended there, instead of leading you to Ketheric," he points out quietly. "The Prism. Me."

Jaheira glances sideways at him and scoffs. "I have seen too much to believe destiny has taken our side," she says bitterly. "Blind luck, perhaps. The point remains."

"You meant well, Minsc," she says - more calmly but no less pointedly. "But you exposed the city to harm. You helped the cult spread. And worse, perhaps, than any of this..." She swallows sharply, and her voice cracks almost imperceptibly. "You forced me to leave you behind!"

The emotional subtlety seems a little lost on Minsc, whose eyebrows and shoulders lift in an attitude of abject puzzlement. "But... this is where Minsc falls short of the understanding, Jaheira!" he says earnestly. "What else is a berserker for, if not to charge into danger ahead of his Wychlaran?"

...Oh. :(

Narrator: [HISTORY] The Wychlaran - wise women of Rashemen, each bonded to a berserker bodyguard for life. There is no higher title, nor deeper bond, in all of Rashemaar custom.

OK this is actually kind of sad. :(

In this particular worldstate, Minsc has already had not one but two witches. In BG1, he and Dynaheir were traveling together when Caden initially recruited them, and Minsc was devastated when she was killed at the beginning of BG2. And then, further on through BG2, Minsc eventually asked Aerie if she would be his new Wychlaran, which she accepted, because she is a tremendous sweetheart.

The big question to rationalize out here - given Aerie's kindness, Minsc's loyalty, and the fact that Minsc was one of Caden's best friends - is how Minsc stopped considering Aerie his witch, because Aerie and Caden are both super alive and happy and safe in Faenya-Dail, half a world away.

The only explanation I can conjure up is that we know Minsc definitely continued adventuring after BG2, and despite the narrator's point that a Wychlaran bond is supposed to be for life, I picture Aerie basically releasing him from the pact because she was no longer traveling/in danger particularly and didn't want to hold him back from his adventures by feeling like he had to be around for her. (And, to be honest, probably freeing herself a little as well from feeling like she had to be responsible for him in turn while she was trying to settle down with Caden, raise Quayle, and not think about that sort of nonsense so much anymore.)

Knowing Minsc, this would be a troubling development, because his role as bodyguard to a witch is critical to his identity. So it is not surprising to me that he would latch onto Jaheira as a replacement - she is one of his only remaining close friends, and she is an older, wiser woman with powerful magic.

That said, it's also not surprising to me that she doesn't respond positively to this discovery - she has seen plenty of his relationship with both Dynaheir and Aerie and doesn't want that level of bond with him (especially not if it is going to trigger him to dive headlong into a nest of mindflayers to "protect" her).

"Wychlaran...? Minsc, I am not your witch! You are not my bodyguard! This is not some high lodge of your homeland!"

"Boo agrees you are a queer kind of witch," Minsc says gravely. He still seems more puzzled than castigated by her irritation. In his mind, which operates in simple, isolated truths untouchable by nuance, his loyalty to her is simply not a matter to be questioned. "But this city is a queer place. And Minsc, you may have noticed, is sometimes strange himself."

Minsc pauses, considers in silence for a moment. "The titles matter not," he finally agrees after a little while. "Only this - when Minsc does as Minsc does and charges in to make a mess, Jaheira does as Jaheira does and finds a way to save us all anyway!"

Hector can't help a slight grin in spite of himself. He doesn't blame Jaheira for her irritation, and he shares her worries for the battle that lies ahead. But Minsc's greatest crime here seems to be loyalty heedless of consequence, and there are far worse failings to have.

"Aw, that's actually kind of sweet," he says; his lips twitch as Jaheira shoots him an exasperated glare.

"Ugh," she mumbles. "I fight alongside fools."

Minsc grins broadly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "You hear that, Boo? We fight alongside a Wychlaran again!"

"I am your *friend*, ranger. I am not your witch!" Jaheira snaps. "There will be no ointments, or healing balms!"

Minsc's face twists with perplexed regret. "Not even for Boo?"

Hee. This is absolutely meant as a throwback to this banter with Aerie in BG2, and I love it.

I was definitely wondering previously if Minsc was considering Jaheira his new witch, so that confirms it. Poor guy. :( He just wants someone to be loyal to - as we all do, I suppose.

Jaheira is clearly not comfortable with it, though. She is, as we know, a person who keeps her own cards very close to the chest emotionally; a bond that deep and permanent is not something she would give easily, and certainly not without some Serious Discussion in advance. (To be honest this reads more like her being bothered by him just assuming it and using it as his rationale for acting irresponsibly; I could see a scenario where, had Minsc asked her the way he asked Aerie, she might have been more amenable.)

Maybe Shadowheart would be interested in a berserker bodyguard, Minsc. You should ask.

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #miiiiiinsc <3 #caden of candlekeep #some throwback thoughts here

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