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aye-write · 3 years

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Summary: Research student Isla Reid has been fascinated with the legend of the Kildonian Chessmen - a trio of mythical Pokemon rumoured to have lived centuries ago on the remote region of Kildo - for as long as she can remember. So, when a museum exhibit on the Chessmen is set to open in Kildo’s Hydrogate City, coinciding with her independent research project, she packs herself and her trusty partner Furret onto the long ferry journey bound for this new region.

However, when she arrives in Kildo, thoughts of her research, new friends, and an entire Pokedex’s worth of new Pokemon, are quickly dashed. Kildo is a troubled place, beset by natural disasters and fierce rivalries among its people. Isla suddenly finds herself at the centre of a centuries-old plot to invoke the wrath of the Chessmen, and is set on a race against time to stop them, before it spells destruction for the entire region.

Other Links: Read it on Ao3!

Tags: OC Pokemon journey, OC region, Fakemon region, bisexual main character, found family, ace main character.

If you are not interested in these posts, especially as I know Pokemon journeyfic is fairly niche, please blacklist the tag #Checkmate. Most of the story will be put under a Readmore anyway!

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is just a quick author's note today! Thanks to everyone who has read and commented! I hope you enjoy another chonk of a chapter and that the starters' introduction went okay! There were a LOT of Pokedex entries this week, so I won't be including them all in the author's note this time, but you can head over to our tumblr @kildo-pokedex to see them in full! See you in two weeks, everyone!

*****

Chapter Four

Things moved fast that night. Too fast. Morning dawned, dappling the sky with tangerine oranges and cotton candy pinks, and Isla soon found herself packed and standing on the doorstep of the cottage she’d almost come to think of as home.

Rhona fussed over Skye’s layers and blankets for so long that Isla thought they’d never get away. Even Blair started to look nervous, casting pointed glances first at his watch and then at his mother. It would be a long walk, he said loudly, at least five hours of walking, and they needed to get on. Finally Rhona got the hint and passed over a mammoth bag of sandwiches, juice, and crisps – enough to sustain an army for about a week – and both parents said their goodbyes. Rhona’s eyes were wet with tears when she broke her hug with her daughter.

Isla moved forward, meaning just to offer thanks, but before she could open her mouth, Rhona swept her into a rib-crunching hug.

“Now you be careful out there, chick,” Rhona said, her breath tickling the whorls of Isla’s ear. “You always have a home here with us, alright? Don’t you dare be a stranger. I expect to see you again here before you go back to Johto, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Isla said, her voice thick.

Kenneth shook her hand next, his huge fingers easily engulfing hers. He had a firm grip, yet surprisingly soft hands, and when Isla drew back, she found he’d slipped her two crisp twenty pokedollar notes.

“Kenneth, thank you, but I can’t take—”

“You take care of yourself,” he said firmly.

Isla decided not to argue. Especially when it was the most the giant man had ever said to her in one go before.

Blair took his mother’s hug with an embarrassed grimace, nodding along to a laundry list of instructions she hurled his way. Make sure you take frequent breaks. Don’t let Skye go wandering on her own. Make sure you feed a Clatty if you see one, it’s good luck. Don’t dare go any further than Aberdrip. Eventually, Kenneth clamped his hand on Rhona’s shoulder, and she stopped.

“I suppose you best be going, eh?” she said, forcing a quivering smile. “Before it gets too late on. Have fun, darlings. Call me when you get there. Be safe.”

“Thanks for everything, Rhona,” Isla said, her voice catching. She had to turn around to shield her face from view.

Blair, who had been battling to fit Rhona’s supplies into their travelling bag, grunted with satisfaction as he finally got the zip up, leaving the bag bulging like an overripe balloon. He felt around at his waist, unhooked a Pokeball, and tossed it over the gate.

“Coastrot, come out!”

Isla let out a breath as the ball burst open and she came face to face with Blair’s Pokemon. Easily reaching Blair’s shoulders, it had a long, lithe body with a clipped coat the colour of the ocean under the morning sky. Even when it stayed still, its mane and tail rippled like plumes of gentle flowing water. It was a stunning Pokemon – right down to its dark, inquisitive eyes and glistening hooves – but there was something unusual about it that Isla couldn’t quite put her finger on. As she stared, Coastrot’s body seemed to blur, wavering in front of her like a picture on a TV with a dodgy signal.

Blair saw her staring. “Touch him,” he suggested.

Isla frowned, uncertain. Under Blair’s watchful eye, she reached out to touch this new Pokemon, only for her hand to slip straight through its body, as easily as if she had just put her hand through a hologram. She whipped her hand away like she’d just been shocked. The Pokemon’s body turned solid again the moment Blair touched it to string up one of the bags.

Isla consulted her Pokedex. “Coastrot, the Mirage Pokemon. Its translucent body refracts light, and it will often appear as though it is surrounded by rainbows. If it doesn’t trust someone, they will not be able to touch it. This is seen as an unlucky omen by some.”

“Amazing,” she said. “So it only lets people it trusts touch it?”

“That’s right,” Blair nodded. “Coastrot is actually the evolved form of one of the Kildo starters. He was my starter, so he’s been in the family a long time, but it still wasn’t easy for him to trust all of us. He lets me touch him, of course, and Skye, and sometimes Dad, but Mum is still a tricky case. Since he’s only just met you, it may take him a while to warm up.”

“That’s okay,” Isla held her hand out for the Pokemon to sniff. Its nose passed straight through her hand, a sensation rather like she’d plunged her hand into a bucket of ice-cold water. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”

Blair clapped on Coastrot’s haunches, signalling everything was secured. He called for Skye and helped boost her up, Isla holding her breath as she entertained a vision of Skye sinking right through the Pokemon’s ethereal back. Luckily, Coastrot remained solid and strong, allowing Skye to settle herself.

“Hold onto his mane, there,” Blair fussed. “No, not there. That’s too tight. Just there, look.”

Skye made several wide-eyed glances over the Pokémon’s massive haunches as Blair made the final checks. Isla offered her a smile.

“I take it that you won’t be going for Coastrot’s evolution for your first Pokemon, then?” she whispered.

Skye shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Definitely not.”

As she waited, a breath of wind lifted the hair from Isla’s forehead, already moist with sweat from the heat of the beating sun. She’d dressed light, in a loose, billowing top two sizes up from her normal, and a pair of comfortable jogging trousers, but she still worried about the journey. The bag slung on her shoulders didn’t feel heavy now, but walking would leaden it. She’d sprayed most of a bottle of antiperspirant on herself before setting out, but she still had doubts about its efficiency. She could only hope they would take it slow and she wouldn’t embarrass herself.

“That’s us,” Blair announced. “We’re ready to go.”

And with one final look back at the Whispering Pines Croft, they set off.

Having left the confines of the family croft, Blair switched into serious mode. He had done some travelling when he was younger, he explained as they walked, enough to know the basics, and he’d made the journey between Aberdrip and Port Glen enough times to pick out the best route to accommodate Coastrot. Their chosen path along Route 1 started out as a stretch of delightfully flat ground, buffeted by a strong, salt-smelling, easterly wind. After an hour, the flat paths became bumpy and wild, grass rising as high as their knees, the tips of trees bordering the horizon.

Blair told them stories as they walked, a welcome distraction for the pain needling through Isla’s legs. He brought them to a stop at the peak of a hill to point out Loch Culla in the distance, a shimmering body of water neatly fringed with trees. A place claimed to be the home of an entire family of shiny Kildonian Lapras.

Skye’s shriek of excitement at this news startled Coastrot, and Blair had to dart to her rescue in case she was catapulted off. She wasn’t fazed. She still insisted on making the detour so they could go hunting for one. Blair laughed. The loch was a protected area for that exact purpose, he explained, and catching Pokemon wasn’t allowed there.

“But we can manage a picnic nearby,” Blair added when Skye’s face fell. “Come on, let’s go.”

Back to walking it was. Isla forced herself back to her feet. To give Blair his dues, he factored in plenty of breaks, at every rest stop or every half an hour, whichever came first. He said he wanted Coastrot to get plenty of rest, as he wasn’t used to carrying weight over long distances. Isla wasn’t sure how true that was, but she was grateful all the same. If Blair and Skye saw her flushed face, sweat patches, and occasional gasps for breath, they were very kind and didn’t draw attention to it.

As promised, they unpacked a picnic at the bank of Loch Culla and shared out sandwiches, fruit, and flavoured waters. Sitting in the shade, listening to the water lapping against the bank, and sipping their drinks fresh from the cool bag, Isla felt totally at peace, despite the numbing aches sprouting in the back of her calves. Blair recalled Coastrot for a proper rest, but Isla released Soba and Wingull to stretch their legs and wings. To keep Wingull amused, but more to stop him stealing, she lobbed his food into the air, sending him swooping and diving over the loch and into the deep grass in pursuit.

Skye didn’t eat much, her eyes trained on the still loch water. When Blair nudged her back to reality, she folded her arms and said, “Blair, I’m looking for Lapras. Leave me alone.”

Isla saw him roll his eyes, but when he spoke to his sister, his tone was nothing but gentle and respectful. “You won’t see them, Skye. It’s massively rare to see a Kildonian Lapras out in the open. They live pretty much entirely underwater. Proper deep down.”

Isla looked up from her sandwich. “Do they? They don’t in Johto.”

“Yep. Kildonian ones are different types too. Ours are Ghost and Dragon.”

“Water and Ice for us.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty different, isn’t it? I think the mainland variant travel a lot, but you can pretty much trace all Kildonian Lapras to just one or two lochs here. They don’t move around a lot. Hence why the area is protected.”

“It doesn’t look protected?” Isla said, looking around. There wasn’t a stitch of modern technology to be seen. No buildings. No cameras. Heck, there didn’t even seem to be any other people around other than just them. “There’s nothing here.”

“Doesn’t need to be. See that sign?” Blair pointed out a sign nailed to a nearby tree. A bold, crimson X was splayed across a black and white image of a Pokeball. “That sign lets us know that there’s Anti-Pokeball Interference here. API for short.” When he saw Isla’s blank face, he frowned. “I don’t know exactly how it works, but basically, Dad said that it transmits some sort of signal that humans and Pokemon can’t hear, but it scrambles the capture mechanism on all Pokeballs. Makes them nothing more than fancy paperweights.”

“We certainly don’t have that in Johto.”

“It’s pretty new. Just come into fashion over the last year. Lot of folks don’t like it, though. I think they had protests out in Tideburgh. They say it violates our rights to catch Pokemon and that it’s going to lead to overpopulation. If you ask me, it’s a load of Tauros shi— uh, nonsense,” he corrected himself when Skye turned her head.

They lapsed into silence, Isla pretending to be fascinated with her sandwich crusts. They’d gone dry and hard in the sun, and she nibbled at them ineffectively. Wingull, amazingly, had eaten its fill and had nestled with his head (mostly) under one stubby wing. Soba, who had been luxuriating in the sun, had fallen asleep curled around a bottle of lemonade. Blair lay back in the grass, his eyes shut, making occasional contented noises. Skye was scribbling something in a notebook patterned with Slugma.

“We’ll head off soon,” Blair yawned. “I just want to rest my eyes for a few minutes.”

The soft noise of snoring drifted over the wind moments later. Isla had to resist the urge to join him. Sitting down had been fatal. Now her eyes felt as heavy as her legs and the thought of getting up again made tiredness sink into the very pit of her. She could shut her eyes for a few minutes, she reasoned. Just a few minutes. Just a few—

“Isla!” a voice cut through her thoughts. “Isla! Isla, look!”

Isla had to force open her eyes, gummed together like chewy toffee. Skye was on her feet, pointing at the nearby undergrowth.

“What’s goin—”

“Shush!” Skye hissed. “Just look!”

In amongst the green, leafy fronds was a flash of something dull and brown. It emerged from the grass like a Furret in miniature. It had a long, snake-like body, the colour of dark chocolate, and a cream underbelly. Its sharp, inquisitive nose twitched, and its tail swished like an over-eager feather duster.

“What is that?” Isla gasped, pulling her Pokedex out.

“It’s a Mudstel!” Skye said, just as Isla’s Pokedex chirped “Mudstel, the Mud Ferret Pokemon. Curious, but shy, Mudstel rely on their stealth and environment when hunting. They blend in well among trees and bushes, but if spotted, will quickly burrow underground to escape.”

“Gosh, it must be hungry if it’s come right out in the open!” Skye breathed out. “Can we try feeding it?”

“Yeah, if you like. Try it with the crusts there.”

Skye offered the Mudstel some of the uneaten crusts. The Pokemon held back, its nose twitching, eyes unblinking. Skye stretched her hand out further.

“Wait, Skye. Stay as still as you can,” Isla advised, not even daring to breathe too loudly in case she startled it. Skye’s wavering arm came to a stop. “That’s it. Let it come to you.”

After a few moments, the Mudstel stretched out its long, ribbon-like body. Skye looked like she was about to burst from excitement, but somehow, managed to stay still. Isla caught a glimpse of sharp white teeth as Mudstel opened its mouth and snatched the crusts from Skye’s hand. It didn’t pause to eat them, just turned on its heels, and dove back into the undergrowth.

They waited, but Mudstel didn’t come back out.

Skye looked crestfallen as the grass went still. “Bread crusts aren’t all that nutritious,” she said mournfully. “I wish it had stayed and I could have given it some Pokemon food. I think we even have some Pokemon Rock. That would have been even better for it.”

Isla made a sympathetic noise. “Maybe we can leave some pellets for it when we pack up and leave?”

“Maybe. But I wish I could have caught it. I don’t want it to end up starving. Mudstel wouldn’t come out and take food from humans if it could help it.”

“Some Pokemon are just opportunistic, Skye. He probably has plenty of chances to get food and then saw us and thought “Oh yes, a free lunch!” Pokemon are clever. They can take care of themselves.”

“I suppose.”

Isla slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Try not to worry,” she said. “We’ll be in Aberdrip soon and you’ll have your very own Pokemon before you know it.”

“I know,” Skye said. “I just… wish I could make friends with all of them. I don’t want any of them to suffer.”

“Then I think that means you’ll be a good trainer.”

Skye smiled. Isla’s heart skipped a little. Could this really be the first time that she had ever seen the younger girl smile?

A sudden kerfuffle sent them both looking over Blair, who snorted and pushed himself upright, making a strange gulping noise. “I wasn’t asleep! I wasn’t… sleeping?” He looked blearily across at Skye and Isla. “Was I sleeping?”

They didn’t answer. Instead, the noise of their laughter echoed across the loch like water tinkling from a waterfall.

They had stopped for another break on Route 3, a densely wooded path littered with fallen leaves and fresh with the smell of moss, when Blair got a text through on his phone.

Immediately, he was dialling a number, face twisted, and one hand covering his ear to block out the shrill shriek of the local Caperchick. A Caperchick, as Isla had found out was another of Kildo’s resident bird Pokemon. Pretty much helpless as babies, they were only able to eat, sleep, and call for help from others in their family group. Isla had hoped to see one, but Blair dissuaded her, explaining their later evolutions were territorial and aggressive. Most wouldn’t take kindly to humans on their turf.

It still didn’t stop her, or Skye, from hoping. Skye got up to wander four times while Blair stepped away to speak on the phone, poking at the bases of trees and among tall grasses. Or maybe she was just doing it to fill the time. Whatever conversation Blair was having, it was taking a lot of it.

When Blair did eventually return, his face was pale. “That was Mum on the phone.”

Isla’s instant thought was Nana Morag. “Is everything okay?”

“Kind of. She’s just back from the hospital. Nana Morag is doing better, they think she’ll be alright to come home soon as long as she gets plenty of bed rest.”

“Did they find out what it was that made her ill?”

“They’re still waiting on some test results,” Blair said, worry creasing his eyebrows into one long caterpillar. “She said she’ll phone me as soon as they hear. Now, the other thing. Mum said she had a voicemail waiting for her when she got out of the hospital. It was one of Professor Spruce’s aides.”

Skye stopped what she was doing, pricking her head up.

“There was some problem with the breeders they use to supply the new trainers and they don’t have enough to supply everyone who wanted one.”

Skye looked ready to burst into tears. Blair saw this and quickly assured, “Don’t panic, Skye. They’ve just moved it to a booking system instead to try and get as many folks sorted as possible today. Mum gave me the number and I called the aide. You’re still getting your Pokemon – as long as we get there in time.”

Skye visibly relaxed but Isla felt like something had severed her at the chest. “When’s Skye’s slot?”

“2pm. It was the only one I could get. All the others were filled.

Isla looked at the time on her phone. It was already ten to one.

“Yeah,” Blair said, as Isla caught his eye. “We need to hurry.”

Isla hoped that adrenaline would see them through. That they could power on the remaining couple of miles without feeling the pain or the tiredness, subsisting only on the rush of purpose to get there. But it was hell. Pure hell. As they half walked, half jogged along unsteady ground, the air dense and muggy, the heat of the sun dripped down their backs.

I can’t let Skye down, Isla told herself as she dragged her aching limbs over the nobbled hump of yet another hillock. I’ll never forgive myself if I let her down.

Once, when the shooting pain of a stitch left her doubled over, she told Blair and Skye to go on without her. But she didn’t even get to finish her sentence before Blair cut in with “Absolutely not. We’re going together,” and that was the end of it.

As it ticked closer and closer, the clouds receded, and the sun intensified. The air remained stubbornly heavy and humid. Finally, they were over another hill and Aberdrip loomed in the distance, a monochrome city with silver buildings reaching up like metallic petals. They didn’t stop to take in much else. Feet pounding the concrete, each step sending pinpricks of pain up Isla’s legs, Blair hailed a taxi. In one confusing bundle of recalled Pokemon, sorting of bags, and too many legs in one small space, they clambered in. Within minutes, they were speeding along the blurred roads, the streets like smears of running ink.

Professor Spruce’s lab sat right at the western outskirts of Aberdrip in a plot of land closed off by wrought iron gates. The taxi driver dropped them off at the bottom, and after buzzing through to the office, they were on their way up the vicious uphill path to Professor Spruce’s lab.

Stumbling through the front door, trembling with exertion, Isla checked her phone. Three minutes to two. They’d made it.

A concerned looking aide lead them through a maze of breezeblocked hallways. Skye stuck so close to Blair that they practically became one person. The aide opened a door at the end of a particularly long corridor, and they emerged into a room groaning with workbenches and strange equipment that wouldn’t have looked amiss in an old sci-fi film. The room was wonderfully chilled, the overhead fans pumping in swathes of cool air.

Blair and Skye gave the aide their names, Blair signed a proffered sheet, and then they were shepherded through into an adjoining room. As they stepped through, Isla felt the eyes of a dozen people land on her.

“Ah, Skye McLeod, is it?” came a voice from ahead of them. “Excellent. I was starting to worry you weren’t coming.”

Skye tensed next to Isla as the woman who had spoken – Isla assumed this was Professor Spruce – beckoned them forward. She was small, rounded, with greying hair slung into a messy bun. Her eyes were sharp, glinting like the sheen of ice over a frozen puddle. Easily a foot shorter than everyone else in the room, she still commanded everyone’s attention.

With a wave of her hand, Professor Spruce separated Skye and the two other young trainers – one girl and one boy – from their respective guardians. Isla collapsed gratefully into a nearby chair. Blair was rigid in his own seat as Professor Spruce took the new trainers through the standard “First Pokemon” spiel. It was a comforting lecture, so much so that mixed with the relief they had made it in time, Isla soon felt her eyelids drooping.

Then, voices surged.

“I want to go first!”

“No, I’m going first!”

“Enough!” Professor Spruce barked, her voice tight. “Being a Pokemon trainer isn’t about who goes first. It’s not even about getting exactly what you want. If you go into this life expecting to get what you want all the time, you are setting yourself up for failure Pokemon are as unique and individual as each one of you. A “weak” Pokemon can become strong from the right training and support. On your journey as trainers, I encourage you to open your hearts and minds. Embrace all that this region has to offer you. Take a chance on people – and Pokemon – you might not expect to. They might just surprise you. Now, young lady…” Professor Spruce’s eyes fixed on Skye, who had been sitting quietly the whole way through. “Why don’t you come up and pick your partner?”

Frozen under the expectant gaze, Skye didn’t move. The other two new trainers muttered as the silence grew. The faces of the parents clouded. Still Skye didn’t move. Or perhaps she couldn’t.

Isla pushed herself out of her chair. Despite the angry murmurings from the other guardians, she threaded herself in next to her. “Skye, do you want to go up first?” she asked.

Skye nodded.

“Would you like me to go up with you? Or maybe Blair?”

She shook her head, but no words came out.

“Just take your time. I know it’s a bit scary, but you can do it.”

With the encouragement, Skye faced the three Pokeballs next to Professor Spruce. Each one was furnished with a plaque listing information about the Pokemon inside. Isla read them over, trying to absorb the information quickly, in case she was asked to sit back down. One Grass starter, one Fire, one Water. Exactly the same as Johto.

Coozy, Lv 5

Gender: Male

The Little Cow Pokemon

Good natured and docile, this Coozy is an excellent choice for those who enjoy a slow and steady pace in life. Be careful not to let him get lazy and complacent!

Bleater, Lv 5

Gender: Male

The Nightlight Pokemon

Aloof yet curious, this Bleater will be a loyal companion to any trainer willing to take the time to get to know him. Be warned, Bleater are prone to dependency on their trainers later in life.

Coltide, Lv5

Gender: Male

The Water Horse Pokemon

Spirited and independent, this Coltide can be a handful without firm guidance in the beginning. However, you will rarely find a more dedicated Pokemon out there!

Curiosity burned at the back of Isla’s head, but now wouldn’t be the right time to interrupt everything by checking. For now, she turned back to the chairs and waited as Skye made her final decision.

“This one.” Skye eventually said. “I would like this one, please.”

“Excellent choice,” Professor Spruce said kindly. “Why don’t you take your, uh… guardians towards the back and fill out the paperwork? The aide will have your license waiting for you.”

“You go,” Isla motioned to Blair. “I’ll wait here.”

While Skye was away dealing with her paperwork, Isla watched the two remaining trainers making their picks. Compared to Skye, there was no hesitation. The boy beelined immediately for Coltide, but the other girl seemed perfectly happy to be left with Coozy. Which, of course, meant that Skye had chosen Bleater.

One by one, the families left for the other room, and Isla had the chance to look closer at the three Kildo starters. She painstakingly punched the names – or her best memory of them – into the Pokedex and clicked Image Search.

Coozy, she decided, would have been her choice. It was almost painfully cute; small, and quadrupedal, covered in a thick coat of moss green fur, a pale pink nose, and dark inquisitive eyes. Her arms ached to hug it.

Now, Bleater was cute too, she thought. It reminded her of a favourite Johto Pokemon – a Mareep – just smaller. Its wool was coarse and tightly packed against the body, in a vivid orange, the colour of flame. Its short, stubby legs and the small nubs of horns were a much darker orange, a striking contrast to the rest of its body.

The final one, Isla could figure out on her own. An aqua blue body, a mane and tale reminiscent of flowing water, black hooves polished like obsidian, and dark, beguiling eyes. Coltide, the previous evolution of Blair’s Coastrot.

“You seem very interested in the starters, young lady,” Professor Spruce’s voice cut through Isla’s thoughts, making her jump. “Not local?”

“How could you tell?” Isla laughed nervously.

“I’ve been around the block too many times,” Professor Spruce said. “Kanto?”

“No, Johto. My accent is a bit softer though, so I get why people mix them up.”

“Johto, eh? That’s a long trip. What brings you here?”

“Visiting family. And some research into the Kildonian Chessmen.”

Professor Spruce’s eyes widened. “How interesting.”

A perfect opportunity had fallen right into her lap. She would be stupid not to take advantage of it now. “Professor, do you know anything about them?” she asked. “Or the Vitalities? Anything you could tell me?”

“Like what?”

“Like where they could be found?”

Professor Spruce’s eyebrow arched. “Well, no-one really knows where the Chessmen are now. Recent reports claim they settled in remote places – like islands far away from the mainland or underground. But that’s all just theories. There hasn’t been a confirmed sighting in over a century. But the Vitalities, on the other hand…”

Isla leant forward, closing the space between them.

Professor Spruce seemed to think better of what she was about to say and let out a sigh. “You have to understand something first. The Vitalities are a polarising bunch. Much of my generation, us old folks, even some of the more… naïve younger people believe the Vitalities are responsible for the natural disasters around Kildo.”

This wasn’t news to Isla, but still she pressed “Why?”

“The Vitalities brought many gifts to humans. Some were used wisely. Others weren’t. One of the most enduring theories is that the Chessmen banished and trapped the Vitalities to four remote corners of Kildo to prevent them intervening in humans’ natural progress. There’s an argument to be made that the natural disasters are the Vitalities fighting back, I suppose rebelling against their banishment.”

“So, no-one knows where they are? Or the Chessmen?”

Professor Spruce shook her head. “You may have noticed that Kildo is a region on a precipice. Pokemon journeys, gym circuits, the battling leagues, these are all very new to us. And they’ve become very popular very quickly. Up until about twenty years ago, most people in Kildo only used Pokemon to help them work the land, to till crops, things like that. It was like the whole region carried this collective memory, a shared fear of what happened when technology became too great a force.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“Yes. But that fear has diluted. It’s been lost among much of the new generation. Things have changed. We’ve made amazing technological advances since then, eclipsed even some of the other regions that have been doing this for much longer. I’m sure you’ve heard about our API technology and Ability Suppressors and Experience Boosters, all that sort of thing.” Isla hadn’t, but she didn’t want to stop her and ask. Lots of people think it’s amazing. Lots more people are scared. Scared that if the Chessmen were to wake again, and were to see the way we have advanced, they would do exactly what they did the last time they awoke.”

The phrase festering in Isla’s mouth felt ridiculous. Laughable. But something compelled her to say it anyway.

“That they would destroy the whole region?”

Professor Spruce’s piercing grey eyes met Isla’s.

“Exactly.”

#checkmate #checkmate fanfiction #pokemon fanfiction #fakemon #fakemon fanfiction #fakemon region

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copper-coin-writing · 4 years

Text

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m currently working on the second book in my main fantasy trilogy, so here’s an excerpt from that. The second book is called Awake Once More, and I’ll probably get round to introducing it properly in a while. Hope you enjoy!

Struggling up and down the sand dunes was tiring. The grains shifted, and for every step he took it seemed he took half backwards. The dragons had disappeared from sight long ago, and he could tell it would be very easy to get lost here. He wished he'd packed provisions.

He stopped halfway up the side of another of the enormous sand dunes. Here, the dunes all around formed a deep bowl-shaped depression, perhaps twenty to thirty metres in diameter, probably bigger. Grains from the sides spiralled down into the middle. From the lip of the depression he heard a voice, and scrambled to the summit.

It was a bizarre sight. A boat was riding the desert sands like an ocean, sail filled with wind generated by one of the passengers, an elemental he assumed. There were five other figures visible on the deck, and piles of rope and nets. Nets! What were they hoping to catch out here?

One of the figures caught sight of him as they rounded a dune, and pointed. The others followed her gaze. All at once, they began to yell. Varin was too far away to work out their words, but the emotion was plain enough. Fear. Terror, even. But why? What were they scared of?

He felt the sand move beneath him, and glanced over his shoulder. The depression was bulging. Something below, something big, was pushing its way to the surface. He began to run. Staggering as the grains shifted, half blinded by the sand that was suddenly being whipped into the sky, he made for the ship. Maybe he would be safe there. One thing was clear. This desert was not as safe as he'd thought.

The ground tilted and he felt himself slipping backwards, despite his frantic attempts to flee. So this was it. This was how he was going to die. His feet slipped from under him as the sand raced past, faster and faster, and then he felt a grip seize his arm and was pulled upwards.

He looked up into the anxious face of a girl slightly younger than him, eyes wide and worried. She walked away, pulling him further onto the boat as she did. The grip didn't loosen. Varin looked down at his arm.

A tendril, something akin to a creeper or vine, was wrapped around it. It was easily as thick as his finger, but small leaves budded from its surface. His eyes traced its path, thickening as it went, until it reached the hand of the girl. As he watched, it loosened and retracted, the leaves folding and the green fading. In seconds it had shrunk back onto her hand, a single finger again. Who were these people?

Unsteady on the moving ship, he watched the other crew members. All of them wore similar clothes, a dusty white robe of some kind, tied with a cord around the waist. There was a boy with long brown hair at the tiller, skin chafed by the desert wind and a sharp metal hook hanging from his cord. A short boy with a perpetual scowl that reminded him of Alice stood beside him. Seemingly ignoring all the others, staring into the space behind Varin's head, was a girl with a hooked knife through her belt. At the prow sat another girl, this one with black hair, eyes closed in concentration. Was she the elemental? Beside her stood a boy, head raised, looking to the sky, hands outstretched. Varin followed his gaze and gasped.

Spiralling out of the sand where Varin had stood just minutes before was the most colossal creature he had ever seen. It was some kind of serpent, with tan-coloured scales and strange fibrous growths growing from beneath each divide. Its head was square in profile, its mouth open and huge. The inside was ringed with muscle, and four inwards pointing teeth marked each corner. Papery wings, easily hundreds of metres long, curved outwards from the main body, more for stability than power. A vortex of air twisted towards the monster's mouth.

Around them, Varin felt the sand grains rising, spiralling into the air towards the vortex. It was clear from the faces of the two frontmost figures that the effort of keeping the ship grounded was a struggle. The world dimmed as the typhoon of sand blotted out the sun. A chill ran through him as he stared up at the colossal creature.

It was still visible through the twisting sands, but barely. As Varin watched, its mouth opened still further, and he felt a shudder rock the whole boat. They were moving towards it. They couldn't escape. This was it...

But suddenly all the figures on the ship were moving, only himself and the front two stationary. Ropes were snatched, nets prepared. What were they doing? The small one was suddenly in front of him, gently but insistently pushing him down, forcing him to sit. Then, just like that, the boy stepped off the side of the ship. Varin jumped to his feet in alarm, but a tendril from the girl lashed out and he was on the deck again, clutching a bloody head.

He stared up in amazement as the small figure soared into the sky, caught in the vortexes, then abruptly vanished. No, not vanished. He was still there, just... spread. Dispersed. His figure, his outline, was there, only his solid form wasn't. And he was growing. The sand clumped to his body as he rose, form struggling against the swirling air currents. When the growth stopped, he stood larger than the Palace of Gemretha. Varin's mouth had fallen open sometime during the transformation, and he shut it. A small mound of sand had built up, and he spat it out in distaste, before turning back to watch the events above him.

Though huge, the boy was still dwarfed by the serpent. Even in his giant form, he barely spanned a third of the great reptile's body, and he was struggling to maintain his footing. Varin could see it. One strong gust and the colossus would fall, probably crushing their tiny boat. The others seemed aware of this, and murmured something he didn't catch to themselves. The plant-girl stepped off the edge.

Before she had even hit the sand her body was morphing, arms extending to catch hold of the giant. This was a routine, Varin realised in amazement. They'd done this before! She swarmed up his back like a spider, limbs extending and flowing, new limbs sprouting from her body when she needed them. Her main body - trunk, he didn't know what to call it - split, branching again and again until it surrounded the giant like a harness. Then a limb snaked back to the ship, fighting the wind with every movement.

As soon as the tendril reached the ship the boy with the hook snagged it and was pulled in. He took a net, along with several ropes, and pulled the last standing passenger with him, also swathed in ropes. Up, up into the sky they flew, the wind that whipped at Varin’s clothes buffeting them as they rose.

Sand obscured his view for a moment. When it cleared the giant had seized the body of the serpent with both hands and was trying to hold it down. Figures swarmed up his body, using the tendrils of plant as hand and footholds, ropes thrown up and over, tied and swung from. Every one of them was one misstep from disaster.

The giant’s footing shifted and those on his back moved with renewed urgency. His fingers were slipping on the leviathan’s scales, the thrashing of the serpent forcing more sand up. Varin wanted to help, but what could he do? He was no giant, no plant person. He had a few spells and mirror walking. He watched on, feeling helpless.

The boy with the hook was scaling the serpent itself now, hook snagging on the scales, something else Varin couldn’t identify glittering in his other hand. Behind him, the girl with the hooked knife looked back at the ship, straight into his eyes. Something tickled in his head, and he heard a voice.

“Help. You got us into this, help us out. I don’t know how well you can understand, but I’m sure you can feel this.”

All at once he could feel the sand blasting his skin, the strong wind trying to rip him into the sky, the ache in arms and legs as he struggled to hang on. Then he was back in the ship, blinking furiously and struggling to his feet. He raised his arms. Ice. Lightning. The other two would be useless. Summoning all the energy he had, he spread his palms wide.

Electricity arced into the storm, scything towards the serpent. The air turned cold, the spiralling air slowing as the temperature plummeted. He was sure he saw the girl smile, despite the distance and ice crystals that now refracted the light in a million rainbows.

Ropes hooked the creature’s wings as it struggled to remain airborne, pinning them to its body. The boy had reached its head now, the hook digging into the cracks in its armour. The glittering thing in his hand grew, extending, forming a spear. Drawing it back, he struck, digging it in deep. The handle lengthened and he pushed again. The serpent thrashed and let out a bass roar, its throat constricting and undulating. The ropes bulged, frayed. It was going to break free!

Frantically he sought out that tickle in his mind, catching it on the very boundaries of his thoughts, pulling it towards him. He saw the girl’s head snap around to face him.

“Get him away!” he mentally shouted. “It’s going to get free!”

The tickle vanished and Varin watched the boy glance down, then let go. He fell, his fall slowed by the wind, the plant girl catching him. Varin’s eyes locked on the spear, still embedded deep in the flesh of the worm. The lightning in the air crackled, built… And struck.

The serpent broke free of the giant’s grip, sending him sprawling backwards into the sand. The serpent twisted and spun, writhing as the electricity surged through its body, the winds growing stronger and stronger and then… they were gone. The snake fell to the sand with a thud that the sand barely deadened. It twitched for a moment, then fell still.

That was a long one! I hope you enjoyed it, I’ll be posting more of Awake Once More as and when I write it. See you around!

#wip: the primal trilogy #wip: aom #excerpt #fantasy

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sosthemortalcoil · 6 years

Text

Fluff Fueled by Spite

Alright so on the discord it was said that @thesearobberssun and I couldn’t write fluff. ( @thenickelportrust is a brilliant game--also just updated, so even more reason to go play it if you haven’t!--and I adore it to bits.)

We were given two prompts: Sleepy morning cuddles, and flowers. Limit of 5k words which I just squeaked by. We also let the discord pick characters. Since Rena did her angsty boy, it was decided I would do one as well (There are a lot of them though >.>) and therefore Mr. Oblivious aka Ramiel aka Walking Talking Trouble is featured. Written from his POV, per agreed.

Enjoy this pure fluff and lots of flower stuff!

The first light of morning enters the bedroom, painting gold bands of light across their sleeping face. Smiling down at them fondly, Ramiel strokes the top of their head gently, bending down to press a soft kiss to their forehead. He doesn’t want to leave their side, but he has plans.

A touch of corrupted Grace ensures that they’ll stay sleeping while he carries out his plans. Carefully he extracts himself from their embrace, pulling the sheets up around them and giving them another fleeting kiss on their cheek.

The first bazaar he enters smells of incense and metals, sweat and brimstone. It’s warm, but the only flowers he can find are dried and pressed. That’s not what he’s after.

The second one is even noisier, with the marketplace covered by a canopy of masterful tapestries that turn everything into a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors. At first he believes that this, too, is a bust, but right as he turns to leave he catches a glimpse in his peripheral vision of a riot of glowing flowers being hauled away on someone’s back.

Heedless of anyone else’s comfort, Ramiel dives through the crowd, twisting and weaving through the various sundry denizens as he struggles to keep the bobbing flowers in sight. The streets grow narrower and the noisy din starts to fade, but Ramiel still doggedly pursues his prey.

He’s sure he’s finally found the flower bearer, but when he rounds the last corner he saw them disappear down, he finds only shoppers swaddled in dark cloths and not a single glowing bloom in sight. Mumbling under his breath about the nuisances of trans-dimensional markets, he once more goes to give up with a diminutive figure tugs on his pants.

“You seek something for a love?” they ask, too many eyes to count blinking up at him from beneath their headscarf.

“I—I wanted to bring them flowers,” Ramiel admits, knowing better than to ask silly questions like how this creature could know why he was here. It was relatively safe to answer anyways; the markets had their own laws preventing any acts that would endanger customers.

The creature grins, the teeth appearing above the eyes, thousands of little needles. “This way then! Java knows best. He speaks the language of many flowers.” The little creature scampers away, Ramiel following the tower of their bright head-wrap to a plain wooden door, no windows in sight.

“Here, here!” As expected, Ramiel fishes out a gold coin and tips the small creature. They toss it into a fold of their head-wrap, bow, and vanish in a puff of smoke.

Ramiel pushes the unmarked shop door open, a chorus of bells jingling softly as he enters.

“One moment,” a low voice like that of tectonic plates shifting greets him. It takes Ramiel a few moments to adjust to the darkness of the shop. He’s disappointed when he sees a ton of buckets with not a single flowering bloom in sight.

“What brings you to Java’s?” The shadow behind the counter moves, a hulking creature of rough angles and jutting protrusions speaking to him.

“I was told I could find some flowers here,” Ramiel admits, rubbing the back of his neck. Another dead end. He might need to give up and find an earth florist. Gabriel isn’t going to stay asleep forever.

“You won’t find what you seek,” Java responds. Ramiel sighs.

“I thought as—”

“I was not done speaking,” Java interjects, a note of reprimand in his voice.

Ramiel shuts his mouth.

“You will not find what you seek here,” he continues to rumble, restarting from before Ramiel interrupted him. “But you will find what you need.”

Ramiel arches an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure that’s what every merchant would prefer I believe,” he states with amusement. “And if you don’t have any flowers for me, then I’m afraid I must be going. I—”

Once more he’s cut across. “Old yet still so young and impatient. The lessons you learn best are the ones that come with a heavy price.”

Ramiel’s jaw clicks shut.

“You seek some pretty blossom to present to your soulmate.” When there’s a deliberate pause, Ramiel gives a cautious nod.

“But you are deaf to the language of the flowers, blind to the way they speak. I shall enlighten you.” Anywhere else, it would sound like a load of hyperbole and hogwash.

Here, Ramiel bows his head in deference. “I would appreciate that greatly, Java.” The huge figure comes around the counter, squeezing through a space that doesn’t look like it should hold him. Ramiel blinks, and decides not to think about it.

“Here.” Java jabs one blunt finger at a bucket. Ramiel raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Touch the flowers.” Wary, but curious, Ramiel reaches out and brushes his fingers over the stalks. A soft gasp escapes him as a riot of golden sparks fall onto his outstretched hand, a riot of color exploding into the dim interior of the shop.

The long petals fall across his fingers, bleeding from gold in the center to a fiery red-orange on the outside edges. The stamen reach for his fingers, dusted with more of the glowing golden embers, the entire flower casting soft flickering light like a torch.

“The Flames of Passion,” Java informs him. “All of these flowers bloom because of what you feel; they are not simply pretty items to be tossed hither and thither as part of an archaic courting ritual.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with the classics,” Ramiel protests, leaning forward. His surprise is increased when the blossoms smell like Gabriel, their Grace scent rising to meet his nose.

“If I did not appreciate flowers and the sharing of them with others, we would not be here,” Java reprimands.

“The Flames of Passion usually bloom for new lovers, part of a new relationship, a new, consuming love where-in there is room for little else. This love has not had time to mature, raw and consuming.”

Ramiel lets out a nervous chuckle. “I’m not sure—” This time he stops himself, letting Java continue at his slow and controlled pace.

“For you, it is a revival. This love has been a long time coming, but each day you wake to be surprised by its existence. You want to share some of that wonder. Which is why the Flames of Passion are not the only blooms I will share with you. Please, touch them all.”

Feeling like a child, with a whole new world of possibilities spread out before them, Ramiel reaches out, dragging his fingers across rows and rows of stalks, occasionally hissing as he encounters thorns or fine hairs that prick against his skin.

Several types of flowers open partially, some give him a token shudder of growth, but in the end three more open fully, creating patches of soft blue, white iridescent rainbows, and another one that doesn’t cast a wide aura but instead fills the air with stars.

“Misty Waters, Eternal Love, and Traveler’s Guide.”

Java points to the dark blue flower, something that looked vaguely like an earth lily, if Earth lilies were the size of small children and had glowing blue orbs at the center of them, freckles of purple scattered across the giant petals. “Misty Waters. It’s not always been the easiest course. Sometimes you’ve lost sight of each other. Sometimes you’ve wandered without direction, unsure of where or how to proceed. But the waters calm, and while your eyes may say you’re lost, the heart knows better. As long as you have each other, you will only wander, never again lost.”

“Eternal Love might seem self-explanatory,” Java muses, tickling the riot of gossamer white petals that send out an intense white light with rainbows dancing on the edges, as if refracted through some crystal or prism. “But the colloquial use is one that detracts from the truth this flower speaks. They will only bloom for those who have found an eternal soulmate. All the youth seem so concerned about romantic love, but the truth is there are many soulmates for a single person. Platonic, familial—there are many kinds. However, not all soulmates remain so across the multitude of existences.”

Java pulls his hand away, and the light narrows, chasing his retreating fingers. “Rarely do they bloom, for they only do so if the bond is true, returned, and eternal. This is the kind of love that death cannot touch, that survives and goes on even after whoever it binds has passed from living memory. The last one I saw blossom was well over six centuries ago. Many come in, believing they have found true love, and often it is true love, but true love is not the same as eternal. This love will pass the test of time, past the end of one and beginning of another.”

Finally Java trudges over to the last flower. “Traveler’s Guide. I believe an Earth equivalent might be the North Star. In this case, for you, it means your partner is the course by which you plot your life. No matter how far you wander or how far you drift apart, you will always come back together. They are your home, your light in the darkness, keeping you safe and warm, guiding you back to them.”

Ramiel swallows. “These are—something else, aren’t they?” he asks in wonder, watching the array of lights.

“That they are.” Java moves, and the lights slowly peter out, the flowers folding back up into themselves. “I’ll have them delivered.”

“You do deliveries? The penthouse is warded.”

Java chuckles. “Do not concern yourselves. The wards keep out any who mean harm.”

Ramiel doesn’t bother asking anymore questions. All he’ll get in response is more cryptic non-answers. “Very well. What do I owe?”

“Nothing much. To bloom they require a depth of emotion many do not possess. They feed on emotion, basking in it like the plants on Earth do in the sun. It does not lessen your own emotions. Simply keep them in a place of honor and nurture them.”

“That seems too simple.” Ramiel tilts his head.

Java turns around, and suddenly his back erupts into a riot of colors, a rainbow of living lights. “Our existence is symbiotic. The flowers need a voice, and we need their light.”

He turns back around, and a smile spreads across his rough-hewn features, showing off a mouth of crystals. “Not unlike your feelings for…” Java inclines his head. “Gabriel.”

Ramiel sucks in a breath, a smile curving his lips. “They are my everything,” he agrees, rubbing his chin. “And I want to—I want to be there for them.”

Java nods. “You are now. Or will be, shortly. You should go, return to them.” Ramiel holds up his hands, chuckling.

“As you say. Merry meet and farewell again till the suns shall rise and the moon hold safe your slumber, the mother mountain’s embrace home as the meadow flowers share their secrets for your soul.”

Java lets loose a chorus of grating, rumbling noises Ramiel recognizes as laughter. “Merry meet, traveler. Journey safe to the arms of your love.”

Farewells exchanged, Ramiel steps out the door—and into another shop. He takes a breath, and blows it out, cheeks puffing as he looks around.

“You again.”

The voice is airy, and sounds bored.

“Me, again?”

Ethereal hands appear in front of him, crossing. Even without seeing more of a body, he gets the impression that they are less than pleased. “Most people only share one, uggg, how to say this in your simplistic understanding of language, hmm… heart? Heart-fruit. You share it with your love, and you will never be alone again.”

Ramiel’s eyes widen. “You! I remember you!”

One hand flaps at him while the other wanders off. “Yes, yes, the impressive multi-dimensional being whose shop you stumbled into because you just had to try showing off your language skills and instead insulted a whole troop of Rhivunians. I’m fairly sure your name is still considered a foul word in their native tongue.”

Ramiel shrugs, cocky grin in place as he leans back. “I’m memorable, what can I say?”

Something comes hurtling out of the interior of the shop, and he catches it by reflex. “Now leave, before you do something,” the voice orders.

“I don’t even know how I got here! For once, I am completely innocent.” The hand still in front of him points at him, the large forefinger tipped in a blunt claw approaching with such vehemence that he stumbles back a step.

“You? Innocent? I’ve never had to give someone two of those! I don’t want to know what your love life looks like, but take it and get out.”

Ramiel rocks his head from side-to-side, a chagrined smile affixed in place. “Well, to be fair, I think you used a different word last time and I might have shared it with my nestmates not realizing it’s only meant for lovers—”

“GET OUT!”

This time the finger jabs at him, and then at a barely visible exit. “Are you sure? I’d be happy to—”

The other hand reappears from around a corner and Ramiel takes that as a sign to make his getaway.

This time he exits into the main square of the marketplace. It’s easy enough to hop a few portals back to earth, though he doesn’t return home, not right away.

“Oh my goodness gracious is that my favorite fallen angel?!” The voice that greets him is quickly followed by a chorus of squeals. In a moment Ramiel is surrounded by a group of dryads, all of them fawning over the strange fruit he has cradled in his arms.

“Is that for us?” Veracaea rises up on her tiptoes, reaching for the strange looking fruit. Ramiel quickly holds it over his head. Only Betulacaea is tall enough to reach, and he’s observing calmly from the edges.

“All right, settle down!” Salix claps their hands, and with some mumbling, the dryads give Ramiel.

“What can we do you for? Need snares? Instant forest growth?” Salix has their hands on their hips, appraising him.

“Nothing quite so dramatic, but much more important,” Ramiel informs them, lowering the fruit so he can cradle it against his chest again. “I…need two flower crowns. For me and my lover.”

The squeals this time could pierce eardrums. Betulacaea is the one who restores order this time. “Finally settling down?”

“Finally returning home, to where I should have been,” Ramiel responds, his smile rueful.

Varacaea bustles him over to a chair. “Wait here. We need to confer.”

The dryads disappear into the back of the shop, leaving Ramiel alone up front. He hopes this is quick. If Gabriel wakes up before he returns, then the surprise will be ruined.

The minutes tick by painfully slow on the clock. He squirms in his seat, and glances down at the fruit in his arms. It hadn’t tasted great the first time, but apparently it was supposed to tie together the hearts and souls of whoever ate it. Strange, it hadn’t seemed to work the first time. Maybe that was because he hadn’t understood what he felt back then.

The thought of him and Michael being tied together permanently makes him snort. That would have been a disaster.

Salix pokes their head out. “Come here. We need you to listen and learn.” They smirk. “Not your specialties, but I have a feeling you are particularly invested this time.”

Ramiel grumbles, but gets to his feet and follows the cheeky dryad into the backroom. A pair of flower crowns rest on the table, a myriad of plants artfully woven together.

Salix picks up the first one. “Each features a centerpiece of an acorn,” they say, pointing to the little oak nut. “This symbolizes life and immortality. The base of ambrosia is reciprocated love. Arbutus sprinkled for you only do I love.” They point to yellow-green flowers and then the white waxy ones in turn.

“Varacaea wanted some camellias, but they’re just not well-suited for crowns.”

“But I won on the daisies,” Varacaea chimes in smugly, pointing to the delicate chain of the small white and yellow flowers. “Daisies for loyal love.”

“Technically innocence too, but we all know you don’t have any of that left,” Betulacaea interjects. “But add a dandelion or two for faithfulness and happiness, contrast with some blue forget-me-nots for true love, and it works out.”

“I wanted to add some grass to yours for submission,” Varacaea takes over the conversation again. “Never seen you so in love.”

Salix smacks her with the back of one of their long-fingered hands. “Instead some white heather to represent wishes coming true, as well as protection of your love and life.”

Varacaea waggles her wispy brows. “Especially the bedroom ones.”

“I am never letting you hang out with the Greek gods again,” Salix moans, pinching the bridge of their flat nose. “Anyways, bells of Ireland for luck—”

“Heaven knows you need it,” Varacaea interrupts, dancing out of Salix’s reach.

“Some myrtle for yet more love, and stock for an expression of your bond and that you will always find each beautiful.” Salix finishes, turning to Betu.

The tallest of the dryads takes a breath and finishes the spiel. “Lastly, stephanotis for happiness in your relationship. Technically most understand it as happiness in marriage, but we take it as happiness in your bond, may it be eternal, for unlike mortals, death is not a given and marriage is not a state endemic to your kind.”

Ramiel nods his head.

“You’re not going to remember half of that, are you?” Salix asks, sympathetically.

“Nope,” Ramiel affirms.

They pass him a list and the two crowns. “Don’t get caught reading from the list. It’s not very romantic.”

“Hey, I can do romance!” Ramiel protests.

“No doubt about that, you flirt.” Varacaea pushes him out of the back and towards the front. “Now go and be a romantic sap elsewhere and leave us to our business.”

They all wave him off as he juggles the crowns and the fruit. Glancing about, he slips into an alleyway, moving between planes to arrive in front of the high-rise he now calls home.

He carefully opens the door, tiptoeing in and relieved when he doesn’t find Gabriel awake and waiting for him. What he does find, however, is a fair amount of the flowers from Java’s shop, still closed up, resting on the counter.

Now that he has everything, the real work begins.

The first problem he discovers is that the second he makes contact with the flowers, they bloom, and none of them are the paltry size of the flowers found on Earth. So he wraps a pair of kitchen towels around his hands and carries them to the bedroom like that. The second problem is that he can’t arrange them until he touches them because he has no idea what they are closed up.

The towels come off, and he only gets hit in the face by one of the large Eternal Love. To check the ambiance, he artificially thickens the blinds until the only light comes from the flowers. Closest to the bed is a low blue glows and a scattering of stars projected above the bed. Then comes the rainbows within the white light, and finally a core of flickering orange-red at the foot of the bed.

Not bad, if he says so himself.

The next stage is breakfast. A single plate, the fruit centered on it with a pair of forks crossed above it, and two cups of coffee. Cream and sugar just like he knows they like it.

Carefully he brings it to the bedroom, and then slaps the heel of his palm to his forehead. The crowns.

He goes back to the living room and puts his on, trying not to look at any reflective surfaces. It probably looks ridiculous on him, as ostentatious as it is. Instead he reads over the list again, trying to commit all the components woven in together. Then he takes his off and switches it, realizing that the one he had been holding had grass. Looks like Varacaea had snuck some in anyways.

Gabriel probably didn’t even put any stock in these meanings humans had conjured for the flowers. Still, he wants to do this. Even if it is silly, the gesture alone is important.

Carrying the remaining crown carefully in his hands, he slips back into bed.

Gabriel murmurs restlessly in their magic-enhanced slumber. Smiling, he leans down and presses a kiss to their forehead, removing his magic in the same motion.

A pair of sleep-befuddled eyes open, blinking up at him. They squint, following the motion of small stars through the air.

Then they take in his appearance. Their mouth drops open as their eyes widen. “That is, uh, quite a statement going on there,” they murmur, reaching up and tucking a strand of his hair back behind his hair.

“I hope you like it, because I have one for you!” Ramiel produces the crown from behind his back and holds it out for Gabriel.

Gabriel arches their eyebrows, trying to conceal a smile. “Did you make this yourself? Should I be concerned about spiders in it?”

Ramiel pokes the tip of their nose. “One time. It was one time. No one specified checking for insects prior to putting them on someone’s head.”

Gabriel shakes their head in mock pity. “Some would say it’s self-explanatory.”

“If my life made sense, I wouldn’t have you,” Ramiel murmurs, leaning over and placing the crown on their head before kissing them gently. “My own personal miracle.”

Gabriel strokes the side of his cheek. “What brought this on?”

Ramiel laughs, the sound seeming to increase the intensity of the light the showers shed. “You.”

“Me? What did I do?” Gabriel looks confused.

“Nothing and everything.” Gabriel scowls at that answer and swats at his crown. Chuckling, Ramiel catches their hand, kissing the inside of the wrist. “Time is a construct that is subjective and we often move outside of it. But I want you to know I love each moment, each second. Waking up with you is the only way I want to start every day, until the sun dies and beyond.”

He reaches out, touching the centerpiece of Gabriel’s crown. “Acorn for eternal life—immortality. Ambrosia forming the foundation, as our love does. Arbutus, because it is you alone I love.”

Gabriel’s eyes soften, watching him carefully as he continues, trying to recite everything perfectly. “Mine has grass, for submission, for as I am your equal, I want to submit to your love, let it rule over me.” Ramiel licks his lips. “Forget-me-nots for true love, for you are the only one I have ever, and will ever, truly love. My heart and soul are yours. Heather, white, so that all our wishes together come true, and that our life together, our love, is protected.”

There’s a green one, with vaguely bell-shaped blossoms that takes him a moment. “Oh! The Bells of Ireland for luck, because with my record, I need all the luck I can get.” He threads his fingers with Gabriel’s. “Though I think I used it all up when you told me you loved me,” he whispers, voice choked with emotion.

Gabriel squeezes their clasped hands. “You forgot a couple. I know daises are for loyal love, ,and dandelions for happiness. Daniel made me a flower-crown once,” they explain.

“Right!” A nervous chuckle escapes him. “That leaves… you know what, it’s all more of the same. Love, happiness, good wishes and that we may never part.” He leans forward, Gabriel meeting him halfway, pressing their forehead together, breathing in each other’s spirit.

“You’re a dork, and I love it,” Gabriel whispers. They find his lips, their free hand grasping the back of his neck, holding him captive. Unnecessary; he’s already spell-bound by the smile he can feel against his mouth.

Then Gabriel’s eyes flick sideways, motion catching their attention. Their brows lower and they pull away. “Okay, the flower crowns I get, but what are the rest of these?”

“Er…” Ramiel stares at the flowers. “Flowers from the bazaar on Aadzt. They only open in the presence of emotions. The red ones are the Flames of Passion.”

Gabriel’s lips curve in a knowing smirk. Ramiel blushes. “Eternal Love,” he points to the white flowers, their outline hazy due to the light they emanate.

“What is the one that is putting out stars?”

“Traveler’s Guide. It means that you are my North Star. I will always find my way home to you, guided by our love,” Ramiel murmurs, nuzzling Gabriel’s cheek. They laugh, and this time Ramiel’s certain the flowers glow brighter.

“Lastly, Misty Waters. We haven’t had the easiest of stories, which is mostly my fault. But sometimes it takes setting aside what you take for granted or obvious to find what you’re truly looking for.”

Gabriel leans against him, nestling their head beneath his chin. “I’m impressed,” they admit, still holding one of his hands captive.

“Then wait until the grand finale!”

Gabriel tilts their head back. “Ramiel, I love you, but hearing those words from your mouth strikes a chord of fear deep within me,” they inform him.

Ramiel kisses their brow. “Have some faith,” he chides, using his free hand to awkwardly bring the tray to his lap.

Gabriel stares at the fruit. “Is that the awful tasting fruit you brought back that one time?” they demand to know, nose wrinkling in disgust.

“We were eating it wrong,” Ramiel informs Gabriel, picking up a fork.

“Oh really? And what do we need to do differently this time?” They pick up their own fork, but use it to poke Ramiel’s side instead of the fruit.

“Well, for starters, you’re only supposed to eat it with your soulmate,” Ramiel comments. He nudges the thick skin of the fruit.

“If you’re trying to say the company you eat it in makes all the difference, then I have questions,” Gabriel comments. Ramiel squirms away from their offending fork, only to still as the coffee cups lurch precariously.

Gabriel’s smile turns devious. “Nowhere to run,” they murmur, kissing his throat and up to the underside of his jaw, rubbing the faint trace of his stubble against their cheek.

“The only place I would run is into your arms, and I’m already here,” Ramiel retorts. He narrows his eyes at the fruit. “I’m certain that it isn’t as bad as we remember it.”

“That makes one of us,” Gabriel says in resignation, moving their fork to also tentatively stab at it.

“Hmm.” Ramiel drops his fork, and tries to dig in his nails to peel back the skin. “Well, last time we ate this part so maybe we shouldn’t?”

“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

“I have some ideas.”

Gabriel snorts, dropping their fork and grabbing the fruit to stop it from tipping the plate.

Abruptly the top starts to curl away. Both of them jerk their hands back, exchanging a glance. “It didn’t do that last time,” Ramiel offers helpfully.

“No, it—oh, that’s different.” As the skin falls away, it reveals a mound of pearl like seeds, their insides swirling with different colors. “You’re still trying it first,” Gabriel declares, reaching out and prying one from the strange tower. It comes away easily.

“You feeding me by hand? Of course it will be goo—oof,” Ramiel’s mouth opens as Gabriel elbows him, popping the piece of fruit between his lips.

He chews ponderously, lips quirked to the side.

“So?”

Ramiel takes one and offers it to Gabriel, raising his eyebrows and smirking without offering a word of comment.

“If it’s as bad as last time, you will regret this Ramiel,” they threaten, before taking it delicately from his fingers.

It’s worth it to watch the way their eyes widen in genuine delight and surprise, touching their lips in wonder. “I don’t—that’s not at all like it was before.”

“It really is all about the company though. It’s to be shared between soulmates. A taste of the bond between us.” Ramiel takes another piece, holding it up to Gabriel’s lips. “You are the light and love of my existence, so for me, it was sunshine and hope and the comfort of your arms.”

Gabriel takes the second piece, eyes closing and head tilting to the side as they chew, slower this time, savoring the flavor. “It’s familiar, like an old friend, but matured with age.” Their eyes open, meeting his. “It’s full of love and wonder, untouched by the darkness you think consumes you because you are good, and you are loved, and you are my soulmate as I am yours.”

Ramiel feels a well of emotions rise within him. Once again he leans down, pressing his forehead to Gabriel’s. “Yours, always and forever, pinna.”

“Always and forever,” Gabriel echoes.

Then they pull away. “But you’re going to have to fight me for this fruit because there’s only the one and after last time, I think I definitely get a larger portion to make up for it.”

Warm laughter, rich and full, fills the air. “We’ll just see about that, love,” Ramiel retorts, picking up his fork again, dueling with Gabriel for the fruit.

In the end it gets eaten, but no one keeps count. Sprawled together on the bed, heads together, hands still entwined; that’s all the pair of lovers care about.

#Ramiel #Ramiel RO #fluff #see? I can do fluff #Fluffball attack?#Fluff attack!#Spite writers #apparently that's what we are #flowers #flower language #cuddles

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an-apocalypse-of-magpies · 5 years

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Regional Variants: Gigalith

Might do art for this later, but for now here are my headcanons about regional variants.

Unovite - The default Gigalith. Seasonable temperate weather makes this variant an all-rounder. Height is often used to denote social status, and Unovan Gigalith typically grow tallest of the species. Generally dark blue or purple stone with orange crystals.

Kantoite - Kantonian Gigalith rarely breach the surface, and so are often flatter and more crab-like than other species with stubbier crystal growths. A common mutation is a third pair of legs, and Kantonian Gigalith tend to scuttle more than their brethren. Rather than getting power from sunlight they derive it from geothermal heat, so their ‘laser’ attacks tend towards microwave and IR. Stone tends to be black or dark grey, with deep crimson or brown crystal.

Johtite - The general flatness of Johto has bred an unusual subspecies of ‘superterranean’ Gigalith that breach the surface very early in life, not least of which to avoid being chewed on by Larvitar. Johtonian Gigalith have evolved a radical body plan that gives them a vaguely camel-like build with well-developed long legs and a high, horizontal body. Like their Kantonian cousins, extra legs are common. They were popular for beasts of burden in the past, but are rare and often outclassed by Pokemon like Rapidash. Johtonian Gigalithare faster than their relatives, but less given to laser attacks, preferring to stomping their enemies with their powerful legs. Stone is abnormally milky-white and very lustrous, whereas crystal tends towards jade green. Soft crystal has led to them being carved by warlords into decorated steeds in ancient times.

Hoennite - A recent discovery, as increased vulcanism in the region has ushered them out of their nest inside Mt Chimney. Hoennic Gigalith are volatile and territorial breeds with huge, complex crystal growths, often have five ‘hooves’ per foot and backs studded with a bristling array of spires and quills. Hoennic Gigalith tend to fight with lasers rather than brute strength. Their stone tends to be ashen greys and browns with crystal in all colours of the rainbow, although dark greens are common.

Sinnotite - Sinnohan Gigalith are a pygmy breed, and are very long-lived, sometimes not digging near the surface until their mid-300s. While they are not the keenest fighters, they are known for their patience and careful natures. Their stone is often sparkly or metallic tones of warm yellow and brown, and the crystals are pure white diamond. Their attractive colouration, even temperament and dazzling light shows make this variety a popular contest choice for the species.

Kalosite - Kalosian Gigalith are a shy and secretive subspecies, and will more often escape than fight. The reason for this is that they keep their young relatively near the surface and regularly raid human rubbish dumps for scrap electronic for food. This diet rich in heavy metals gives them an oddly-mottled and patchy colouration of steel-blue and greys, but their crystals are often mirror-bright and highly reflective and refractive, causing the area to glow in their presence. Alolite - Alolan Gigalith actually live underwater, near ocean-floor volcanic vents and young volcanoes where they feed on rich nutrient soup that spews forth. They are generally very large for Gigalith, and their feet are long and paddle-like for underwater movement. They also have a characteristic ‘unicorn horn’ of stone jutting from the centre of their face which they use to pry open new vents. Alolan Gigalith are often stunning shades of pink, with a coral-like skin, and have crystals in a variety of rich blues.

#pokemon #pokemon headcanons #gigalith

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grlz-babe · 6 years

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Gorillaz Lyrics Analysis: Idaho

I’m getting burned out on this band but I just can’t fucking quit, so let’s do this. This one’s my personal favorite off their new album, and probably my favorite Gorilaz song ever.

I’m gonna be closely analyzing each lyric and possible meanings I can think of, then talk a bit about how it all fits together and what the overall theme of the song is. This is just my humble opinion, so don’t get your tears in a twist!

I landed on the silver lake Washed up and feeling blue

The first line for this song is meant to be a reference to Silver Lake in Idaho, which is nearby to Bruce Willis’s ski lodge. The second line is a bit harder to decipher. It could be in reference to how Damon felt after the relatively negative reviews of the two Gorillaz albums prior to this one. To me, these lines together are talking about a person who’s coming to a natural place, or perhaps a place from their childhood. They arrive feeling like a failure and depressed.

Heard the sound of footsteps Drifting softly to the moon

The singer hears someone coming up to them. In these lines, the speaker is referred to as a moon. Perhaps they feel like they’re an outsider looking in or just plain feeling alone with their problems, like no one else can understand what they’re going through.

Looking for clear water I had to take control

They’re looking for someone pure that they can experience, or maybe just a pure feeling they haven’t felt in a long time. They need to take control of something, either the emotions or their life. It’s unclear which they’re talking about, but I like to think they’re talking about their life.

Out there in the wilderness Another bullet hole

These lines genuinely stump me. My best guess is the bullet hole is a metaphor for being hit by sudden painful emotions or a sudden letdown. The singer is out there in the wilderness to find a way to cure the pain, to fix the bullet hole if you will.

Playing it all for gods Yesterday

They were doing their best to please the public, people who can make or break their life, sometime in the past. That’s as simple as it can get.

Floated out into the woods To hear the old elk call

The singer here is saying they went to do something rather silly just for the fun of it.

Touched a rainbow with my hands I'm dry, I got 'em all

Rainbows are the refraction of light through water. If one were to touch a rainbow, something that’s truly freakin’ fantastic, your hands would naturally be wet, but this isn’t the case for the singer. The metaphor here likely means they experienced something amazing, but they weren’t physically impacted by it. They’ve still got all the memories of this amazing thing, though.

"Ride on," said the king of cool You've got nothing to lose

Talking about the human aspect behind the band again, I think the “King of Cool” here would be Jamie or someone else who works closely with Damon behind the scenes. Someone who told Damon as he was getting over the hurt from the bad criticism of the last album to jump right back on the horse and do it again, since he really doesn’t have anything big to lose.

Also, I believe from the “ride on” line, everything down to the chorus is spoken by this “King of Cool”.

Tinseltown is down the road It's the bullet or the noose

Hollywood isn’t too far from Idaho, so go back there and do your thing to deal with this. It’s either biting the bullet and getting over these emotions or abandoning this huge project entirely for the rest of your life.

If you're playing it all for gods Far away

This one seems to be framed more like a question to me. It seems like “do you still want to do this?” It also seems like the other party here is saying that the singer doesn’t have to please the public if they don’t want to; they can chose not to play for the gods that they can’t even see.

Idaho, Idaho There's a beauty on the road And everyday I look out of the bus Silver linings getting lost

To the singer here, Idaho is a beautiful place they pass through. It’s a bittersweet reminder of what was great about what they were doing, but it passes just like everything else. The more the singer visits this place, the more they relate it to negative emotions. Every time they look at it, even just in passing, it becomes harder and harder to see the good parts that used to be so clear to them.

Overall, my feelings on this one are plain and simple. It’s about someone going back to a place they felt safe in a long time ago to deal with their negative emotions. But, the more they visit this place, the more they associate those emotions with it, which causes the beauty of it all to get lost. Someone they know is also trying to get them to stop moping and get back to work, which only spoils it all further.

To me personally, this is a song about getting older, revisiting a childhood home or some other place where you felt safe as a means of getting away from life, only to find that your problems don’t just leave you. They follow you and it “spoils” the place, making it harder to see just what was so special about this place.

#Gorillaz #Idaho Gorillaz #The Now Now #lyrics analysis #this one hits me hard #prolly cause i got a place like this irl & i'm afraid of visiting it for this exact reason #also the kind of soft guitar is beautiful 1000000/10 #i like how damon's voice kind of echos like he was recording this song in a log cabin room or outside or something #it's a really nice touch

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fountainpenguin · 7 years

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WORLDBUILDING NOTES FOR FRAYED KNOTS +

No fanfic update this week, but I have a worldbuilding dump of some notes instead. It starts out with a simple ref sheet of color meanings we’ve previously discussed (Magic and zodiac bonds), but mostly discusses Anti-Fairy culture. These notes mostly apply to Frayed Knots stuff and should come up in the story bit by bit, but story flow takes priority over info-dumping, so this is here if you want to know how things work sooner rather than later.

Slight spoilers I guess, but nothing that’s going to affect your read. It’s just stuff like, “This is what daily life in the executive building is like”, “This is why Anti-Fairies respect the land”. And like I said, the color cheat sheet was included.

I’ll probably throw a link to this post in every time I do a Knots chapter update, because none of you can stop me. Who knows? Maybe you’re one of those people and you want to like, open it in another tab for reference. It’s possible.

I just like reminding you guys that my fanfics are needlessly complicated because I like micromanaging everything. You don’t need, nor would I expect you to, memorize everything, so it’s nice to have a ref sheet around at times.

GENERAL THINGS TO REFERENCE

THE CLOUDLANDS

Legal names of Fairy World / Anti-Fairy World / Pixie World and name meanings

Cloudland maps (Time zones included)

Cloudland flora and fauna

FAIRYKIND BIOLOGY

Fairy social ladder / caste system / subspecies list: Part 1 | Part 2

How Fairykind aging works in my fanfics

Vague magical races phylogenetic tree

Physiology post

> Anti-Fairies and their pouches

Fairykind and diseases

Magic pools

CULTURE

Culture and politics overview post

> Another Fairykind culture post (This one includes the Refracted)

Fairy ethnicities / cultures / architecture post

The Fairy zodiac

> That way more detailed post about the zodiac spirits

> Sunnie’s reference (Other nature spirits possibly to come)

School and cohorts

That post about Anti-Bryndin

The camarilla court / Names and zodiacs

OTHER

My Origin of the Pixies / Frayed Knots parallel timeline

My FOP fanmade terms glossary

My FOP story bible / dump doc

Detailed explanation of how wands work

That page on my blog with links to character ref sheets

Lohai’s reference | Norm’s family tree (Note: I know them all, A.C. doesn’t)

The “Bat cube and associates” tag if you want to see all my Anti-Fairy stuff

Headcanon masterpost list if there’s something else you’re looking for

Meanings of the magical colors / moods in more detail

FAIRY ZODIAC:

SEASONS:

SPRING: March 15th - June 19th

SUMMER: June 20th - September 14th

AUTUMN: September 15th - December 19th

WINTER: December 20th - March 14th

Map

Faeheim - Above California; Inkblot - Above Kansas; Luna’s Landing - It was above Spain on the last map but now it’s above England because I messed up while doing this and I’m too lazy to fix it right now. It’s somewhere.

Luna’s Landing is 7 hours ahead of Pixie World and 8 hours ahead of Faeheim. The Divide Gate is located in Greece, on Mount Olympus, and appears on Planes 1-12. The Barrier does not exist from Planes 13+

Fairies who fall out of the cloudlands and into the ocean will drown, unless they can save themselves with magic. Most subspecies struggle to fly with wet wings. Falling out of the cloudlands and hitting solid ground is risky too.

The Refracted refuse to nominate anyone to the position of Robes. The actual robes exist, but the positions are currently empty, as the Refracts don’t believe in placing some people so high above the rest.

The table is always set for them in the Council meeting room, and the meetings always start ten minutes late to give them time to show up; the Council treats them as though they could show up at any time, even though they never do.

MOSTLY THE CLOUDLANDS LOOK LIKE THIS:

Lots of different clouds slightly above and below. Not a great environment for animals, so you don’t see deer wandering around. Some clouds are larger than others. That’s where people build cities. Plane 7 has lots of flat, connected land and is a better environment for wildlife, especially unicorns and such.

Plane 11 has very few clouds, and they’re super spaced out like distant islands. It’s a dangerous place to fly, especially since Plane 10 is right below it and full of lava and sharp rocks. You would want to traverse Plane 11 in a cloudship.

Skyship - A flying merchant or passenger ship meant to travel outward from Fairy World to other planets. Designed for travel only between Planes 2 and 6 and not intended to travel higher than that. This travel through the universe is called starsailing. We saw docked skyships in “Love Struck Out”.

Cloudship - Technically a type of skyship. These ships travel from lower Planes to higher ones by sailing back and forth until they find the different Bridges. They are not designed to travel to other planets. Usually a simpler design than the merchant skyships, built for strength to muscle through various harsh environments instead of speed and tourist pleasure. It’s difficult and expensive to travel to the higher planes from lower ones, whereas traveling via Bridge is free, and you get to see the sights. Also it’s just safer that way, usually.

The Bridges have existed for a long time and are hard to create. They sprang up before cloudships did, and the cloudships go and find them. Let’s go with that. Don’t question why they aren’t all in one general location to allow quicker travel. We’re lampshading that plot hole because that would be lame storytelling.

PLANES OF EXISTENCE:

The Planes of Existence are complicated. There’s a general sense that the universe still exists beyond the cloudlands, and that the Planes of Existence stretch on forever. Only certain creatures - namely the Fairykind, as well as their godkids - have the ability to scale the planes. I think they don’t like spreading around word of different Planes to alien races who may want to take over. The Planes stretch on “forever”, but all the Bridges to get higher are located only in the cloudlands. You don’t have to cross the entire universe to reach other Bridges, just the general cloudland area.

You can descend the planes by falling from clouds on higher planes. You have to ascend the planes either using a Bridge, or a wand with a chip that lets you skip them. Fairies and Anti-Fairies live in the Deep Kingdom, divided by the Barrier. The Refracted live in the High Kingdom.

1) Abracatraz, stars, and black holes, 2) Planets (Most famously Earth) 3) Lowlands - Pixie World, Novakiin, Lau Rell, Patio World, Mistleville... Sometimes rains acid from GBA World 4) Barrenglades - Giant Bucket of Acid World, Cherish Jungle, Anti-Pixie Isle 5) Fairy World Proper - Faeheim, Serentip, Amity Headquarters... Lots of "main" Fairy World locations. 6) Fairy World Outskirts - Burger World, Ivory Wand and Comet Blood 7) Wanderplains - Animals and fields; also known as Dairy World 8) Anti-Fairy World Proper - Blue Castle, forests, and small towns; the Eros Nest is on this plane too, on the Fairy World side 9) Anti-Fairy World Outskirts - Very occasional small towns, mostly just a wilderness for roaming colonies; always red / gold like autumn 10) Harsh, fiery world. Lots of rocky cliff areas, tons of lava; famous and popular crystal caves; interesting plants (especially medical herbs) 11) Very open landscape. Few clouds; lots of empty sky; those who travel the planes usually dock cloudships here for easy take-off 12) Hush World - Wilderness; sense of unease / reverence; emormous monuments to ancient races carved into mountains; purple sky

There's some kind of barrier separating the Deep and High Kingdoms. There's a joke to be made about scaling a beanstalk to get higher.

13) Very bright and oddly sunny, grassy world. Now entering the High Kingdom; no Barrier. Hunter / gatherers, not farmers here 14) Dry desert world. Not a lot of water here, lots of sand 15) Crazy windy world. Erosion is intense; few buildings; maybe some windmills 16) Scary World - Basically the Negaverse; Nega-Timmy was born here. Don't ask for specifics because I don't know. 17) Hairy World - Bizarre jungle that's very orange and furry. Flora and fauna are huge. Lots of enormous predators. 18) Complete darkness, landscape difficult to determine, seems mostly rocky. Occasionally lit by geysers and things. 19) Avalon - Most Refracts (especially the Dame Head and pixie refracts) live on this plane. Others live below, not above. Good farmland. 20) Misty swamp world. It's misty and swampy. Fairly dark and spooky. 21) Ice and water world. Planes below this one sometimes get rained or snowed on due to leaks. Plants get watered. 22) Rest stop! More or less. Ships that gather Kiiloëi's water make camp here. A cold, lonely, creepy place. 23) Tír Na NÓg - Alleged ancient home of the Tuatha long ago, current home of the nature spirits; world of cliffs and chasms; "Fairy heaven" 24) The Kolobian Plane - Kiiloëi (the sacred rosewater fountain)

BRIDGES TO PLANE 2 (EARTH)

Rainbow Bridge (Plane 5) - Main Fairy World Bridge - Faeheim, Central Star to Dimmsdale, California (USA)

Pastel Bridge (Plane 7) - Secondary Fairy World Bridge - Hiero Town, Lower West to Cairo, Egypt

Night Bridge (Plane 6) - Main Anti-Fairy World Bridge - Shadeblink, Far West to Tasmania - Destroyed pre-Origin of the Pixies

Shadow Bridge (Plane 4) - Secondary Anti-Fairy World Bridge - Crowfeld, High South to Ireland - Destroyed pre-Origin of the Pixies

Bit Bridge (Plane 3) - Pixie World Bridge - Inkblot City, Central Star to Mushroom Rock, Kansas (USA)

Dot Bridge (Plane 4) - Anti-Pixie World Bridge - “Connects” Anti-Pixie Isle, Lower West, to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil; never finished

FIVE FAIRY WARS:

The Sealing War - This is the war that was taking place during the “That Was Then” Prompt. It went on for eons, supposedly, and resulted in the fall of the Tuatha Dé Danann and the deaths of many Aos Sí. The nature spirits were sealed in their Temples during this war. Daoists believe the Tuatha and a race of people called the Molpa-Pel (mole people) were sealed inside the Earth at the end of this war, and that after the Tuatha died, their magic nourished the planet and caused plants to grow. The Zodii just believe the Tuatha were killed off. Nature spirits shaped the Earth.

The Sacred Revolution - Occurred shortly after the Sealing War. Was mostly the Fairies making a big stink to the rest of the universe that they exist and should be treated as big kids in the universe. There wasn’t much fighting actually going on. More of a cold war than anything else. It was a big deal to the Fairies though, so it’s considered one of the Fairy Wars.

The Struggle With the Darkness - “Wishology” stuff. Ancient Fairies chased the Darkness off. I’m still unclear about the rate at which Turbo Thunder ages.

The [War of the] Sunset Divide - A war that started before H.P. was born and finished thirty years after. His dad fought in this war. It was after this war that the Barrier went up, dividing Fairy World from Anti-Fairy World. Before then, Fairies and Anti-Fairies could travel between the two. My original plan was that all sky in the cloudlands used to be blue and this was the war that split Fairy World from Anti-Fairy World and gave Anti-Fairy World a red sky, but I’m uneasy about it now. Maybe it’s just metaphorical.

War of the Angels - The war between Fairies and Anti-Fairies over human godchildren (called angels back then). This war was mentioned in the Season 7 episode “Balance of Flour” and gave us the annual Bake-Off. We’ll see this war in both Origin and Knots.

The 1st and 2nd Creature Wars exist too, as we learned in the “Opportunity” Prompt. Not much is known about those now except that the 2nd one is the one that drove the Beasts underground. Neither will be important in Knots.

DAOISM VS. ZODIISM

Daoism - H.P. and most pixies consider themselves part of this religion, as do most Refracts. Daoists believe in the literal splitting apart of the Aos Sí into Fairies, Anti-Fairies, and the Refracted. They believe that what has come apart will come together again after death, and that three counterparts will become a single creature in the afterlife: Daoine Síth.

There is a book of scripture (known only as King Nuada’s scripture at this time) and it’s custom to avoid using magic on Thursday, the holy day of the week. There are no deities of creation that are worshiped or prayed to. It’s a religion of reflection and self-actualization. The belief is that you should strive to become the best that you can, and help others become the best that they can. However, some Daoists do pray, just to the general universe. They kneel down and place their right hand in front of their forehead, thumb curled in so it touches the palm. The same sign (minus the kneeling) means “I come in peace” in Fairy culture.

Daoists tend to freak out around fairy dogs, who are said to carry souls to the afterlife. Actually, they are said to SWAP souls, switching bodies with those they catch sinning. Daoists believe fairy dogs can die, and that if you die while in the body of a fairy dog, you don’t go to heaven. You just cease to exist. Certain sins will likewise cause you to “die a dustless death” and lose your right to heaven.

H.P. actually doesn’t follow most of the Daoist teachings. He just believes in life after death. He was raised Daoist, so he just shrugged and went along with it. During the time he was growing up, there wasn’t separation of church and state. Daoism was taught in history class at school. Thus, it’s basic fact for him. He considers Zodiism a waste of resources (Temples, murals, monuments, time, etc.) and sees it as a philosophy that teaches you can do whatever you want without consequences, even if you’re hurting people.

Zodiism - Anti-Cosmo and many Anti-Fairies follow the teachings of this philosophy. There are no “holy” texts, as Zodiism is a philosophy, not technically a religion. However, there are myths about the nature spirits. Zodiism is basically, “Astrology meets Greek gods”. The Zodii believe that Tarrow, the cosmic jellyfish and deity of fate and destiny, selects a path and soulmate(s) for everyone. You can choose to reject his plans, but you won’t have his influence in your life anymore, and things will probably go very wrong very soon. The Zodii also believe in reincarnation after death, and that you’ll either return as one of your descendants or as some aspect of nature, such as a tree or stream.

While there are hundreds of nature spirits, the main seven control the elements and are therefore placed on the Fairy zodiac. The days of the week are named after them. It’s said that their power is strongest on their day of the week, not to mention their year in the seven-year cycle. Similarly, the Zodii believe that the day of the week and year of the zodiac cycle affects the flow of luck that influences you. They tend to be very superstitious people, and will postpone events until the right moment- for example, marrying in a Love year.

Then there are bonds. The Zodii believe in fate, and that the year of your birth has a major impact on your personality. As such, they believe in automatic compatibility between certain signs on the zodiac, and automatic incompatibility between others. It’s not unusual for a Zodii to refuse to even have so much as a one-night stand with someone of an “incompatible” zodiac.

Anti-Cosmo considers Daoism sacrilege. As far as he’s concerned, the nature spirits are very real. They interact with mortals who are willing to accept and believe in them. When they’re bored or angry, they cause mayhem in the forms of floods, quakes, tornadoes, volcanoes, blizzards, and so on. When they’re pleased, everyone is blessed. There is documented proof of the nature spirits. Less so for the Daoine. Anti-Cosmo doesn’t believe in becoming Daoine after death like H.P. does.

Other belief systems exist in the cloudlands. These are just the only ones that are going to come up in my works.

ANTI-FAIRY BASICS

What is Hy-Brasil?

All of Anti-Fairy World. It encompasses nothing else. It literally just means Anti-Fairy World.

The Zodii (usually Anti-Fairies) believe Hy-Brasil to be the name of the land spirit (Note: The land consists of clouds and stuff; land does not mean only Earth or dirt). Hy-Brasil is considered to be a spirit bear and one of the Wise Ancients, but in a sort of dormant state most of the time.

Non-Zodii believe their ancestors manually created the cloudlands.

What is the Hy-Brasil landscape like?

Rule of thumb: Lots of crags, crevices, lava pools, acid pools... Not the kind of place you want to build a stable home. Rarely is the land flat, so you’d have to do some massive work. There are also rivers and forests (usually with leaves black, red, or orange... but not green).

Near the border with Fairy World, it’s warm enough that the rivers remain in liquid form. The farther away you go, the colder it gets. The rivers and lakes freeze (though acid and lava pools don’t). Sunnie, the Water spirit, is highly associated with cold and ice for this reason. Ice is a form of water, after all.

Most Anti-Fairies deeply value the land and don’t want to damage it and offend Hy-Brasil. Their buildings are usually made of materials taken from Earth instead (or from the Fairy World spirit, Tír Ildáthach, when they really want to be spiteful). The Blue Castle was allegedly a gift from the spirits, so it’s ritzier.

The cloudlands are a cold realm as a whole. Anti-Fairy World even more so than Fairy World. Changes of the seasons are limited. I imagine that leaves still fall off trees at certain times of the year, but you won’t lose crops to frost. Apart from a few rare exceptions, it doesn’t rain or snow in the cloudlands.

Why aren’t the Regions named after their colors / Why don’t the Temples match up to the Region colors?

Because I didn’t think this through and I have regrets Because the Regions were named generations before the position of Council Robes were created. The first members of the Council each took a Robe, and that color became associated with their Region.

It would also be very offensive to the Zodii if all seven zodiac colors were on well-dressed authorities gathered in one place, and yet the people wearing them hadn’t been born in the zodiac year whose color they were wearing.

Thus, the colors don’t match up with the Temples because if they did, the Zodii would make a stink about it. Council Robes are elected, but if the Robes were all the zodiac colors, the Zodii would insist they represent nature spirits instead of regions and it would be a political nightmare.

Where is the Anti-Fairy capital city?

Luna’s Landing is on Plane 8. It is located in the Blue time zone, which puts it 7 hours ahead of Pixie World, and 8 hours ahead of Fairy World’s capital city, Faeheim.

The Blue Castle and Grand Archives building are both counted as part of this city, though the Blue Castle is removed from the main city bustle by a path and drawbridge.

Luna’s Landing can legally be called a city due to the presence of the Love Temple.

What is the Blue Castle and who lives there?

The Blue Castle is the executive building, and it’s like the White House. This is where the High Count, High Countess, the camarilla court, and their families live day to day. And the housekeeping and cooking staff too.

In Anti-Fairy World, which is usually lacking in stable jobs, the Castle gets lots of eager applicants for housekeeping. The camarilla conduct job interviews as necessary, and the High Count and Countess both stamp the paperwork (usually without looking at it). That sort of paperwork rarely passes through Pixie hands, since it’s pretty quick and easy, and it’s best not to release that information to potential enemies.

In Knots, the staff are referred to as servants because that’s the time period, but rest assured that the position is paid and they can resign if they want to. They pride themselves on working quickly and being unnoticed. But of course, Foop gets his fun out of catching them in the act. As we saw in “Step Back”, he likes wandering around via the housekeeping tunnels. Anti-Cosmo, being both oblivious and the opposite of subtle, never uses them and usually forgets they exist. Even as a kid, he’d rather hang with the camarilla than the servants.

The High Count and High Countess have conjoining offices with a door that shuts between them. They do their political work there. Paperwork and evil plans and stuff. Anti-Cosmo tries to keep things orderly, but he never does- he’s just a cluttered person by nature, since he follows so many trains of thought at once. Anti-Wanda, unsurprisingly, doesn’t do much better.

What is the Grand Archives Building?

The Grand Archives building is the Anti-Fairy parallel of both the U.S. Capitol and the National Archives. And probably other buildings in other countries, but I’m an American, so I know these ones.

This is where census records and other important documents get stored. The lower two floors are a grand public library. The third and fourth floors are where the archives are, which is special access only. On the fourth floor is the open-roofed building where the Anti-Fairy Council meet and do legislative / judicial things; that’s where we see them in the show.

What is Anti-Fairy clothing like?

Much fancier than Fairy clothing. Fairies tend to use color to show off. Style is less important (They like things they can move around in easily, and the general style is loose clothing so nymphs can easily crawl into their parents’ pouches).

Anti-Fairies use style to show off. They have fancy coats, vests, cloaks, the works. As a culture, they favor dark colors for camouflage, making hunting and stalking easier. Additionally, the Fairy zodiac is so heavily associated with its colors. Anti-Fairies only wear colors ceremonially, and then it’s almost always their zodiac color.

There are exceptions to this rule, as it is a tradition, not a law. However, you would likely be shunned were you to wear bright colors outside of certain events. The anti-pixies figured that out the hard way.

Who are the anti-pixies?

Green-furred, yellow-haired, genetically identical bundles of chaos brought to us by “Clash With the Anti-World”. I’m just going to assume that if you’ve been following my works enough to want to read this post, you already know them.

What is Anti-Fairy technology like?

They don’t even have printing presses. Their lighting is torches hanging on the walls, or candles in dishes. They often use scrolls instead of individual sheets of paper. Anti-Fairies also have these things called anti-gravity platters, which are basically floating platters that hold food up high so a roosting Anti-Fairy can reach them easily. The Seelie favor scrying bowls, but Anti-Fairies favor crystal balls for long-distance communication.

We know from the Musical that Cosmo owned a car before he and Wanda were married. I invented these things called cloudcars, based off the car Sanderson was driving during the “Pixie Rap” song. These cars travel through the clouds, jumping gaps between the clouds and stuff. Those aren’t really things in Anti-Fairy society. Anti-Fairies are usually faster fliers than Fairies anyway, due to their wings being tools of propulsion. And, Anti-Fairies live in colonies. They’re social creatures who like to fly together, or poof. Cars are lonely for them. Not to mention it’s often difficult for them to get comfortable thanks to their wings.

Technology changes over time. Above are the things that hold across the ages. There are other nuances. For example, at the start of both Origin and Knots, no one has running water indoors. They have wells and things. Eventually, that will be a thing. Even Anti-Fairies enjoy indoor running water, and like to shower.

As a rule of thumb, Anti-Fairy tech is simpler and often considered “backwards” compared to Seelie tech. Pixie tech is even more advanced than Fairy tech the majority of the time.

What do Anti-Fairies eat?

Depends. Technically, Anti-Fairies don’t need food to survive. However, if they don’t eat well, their health will suffer. Mostly they eat the same food Fairies eat, although Anti-Fairy meals tend to be extravagant. Not a lot of fast food in Anti-Fairy World.

Sometimes, Anti-Fairies do chase after and eat the bugs that flit about their world, for sport or as an actual food source. While it isn’t healthy to survive entirely on that diet, it’s a better alternative than going completely hungry.

As it stands in Frayed Knots right now, the Anti-Fairies hold one of the four treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann. The Blue Castle possesses the Dagda’s bottomless cauldron. The Fairies have King Nuada’s unavoidable sword, the Refracted have Lugh’s peacemaking spear, and they all share the Lia Fáil (the coronation stone, which we saw for the first time in “Playing With the Big Kids”).

Marriage customs in the cloudlands?

Such things vary by subspecies, and are details that you don’t really need to know. The only important Seelie one is that the fairy subspecies are said to be monogamous for life, meaning that they “only give their souls away once”, and that they never remarry if their spouse separates from them or dies. It’s fairy culture to take an interest in someone young and stick with them. For example, Juandissimo “gave his soul” away to Wanda, and part of the reason why he can’t move on is because of this. The rest is just him being a clingy type by nature.

The fairies have this tradition called the Year of Promise, which involves engaging in intimacy on the first night of serious courtship, and then spending a year not touching people at all (They wear gloves and socks all the time and avoid skin-to-skin contact). At least, they’re supposed to. When the year is up, they either reinstate their commitment to one another, or agree to separate (if they haven’t already). Supposedly, this helps fairies figure out if they truly want this person to be their one true spouse. Because fairies tend not to remarry, it’s a big deal to choose right.

This isn’t to say fairies can’t remarry. It’s just that these are their biological instincts. I wanted a custom that was similar to real-life dragonflies, who tend to take the first mate they can. That’s what I was going for with “traditionally engage in intimacy on the first night of serious courtship”. Something quick.

Wing notches are fairy culture because fairies don’t usually remarry. They’re basically permanent wedding rings, but they’re slits in the costas of your wings. The pair have matching notches, so it’s like a ring, but you can see the pair match. Speaking of notches, you may have noticed that in the cover image for Frayed Knots, Anti-Cosmo has holes in his wings. Those mimic the notches Cosmo has on his wings. I accidentally drew them when he was a pup in the preview image of “Growing Pains”, but no, Anti-Cosmo only gets these later.

Anti-Fairy society has a different view of marriage. Remember, they believe in the zodiac and in soulmates. It’s not uncommon for Anti-Fairies to be involved in arranged marriages courtesy of their parents. Most notably, the Anti-Fairies who live at the Blue Castle are considered nobles and are frequently betrothed by the age of seven. To an outsider, these matches appear random, but the Anti-Fairies view the matches made as fate.

Anti-Fairies consider a soulmate to be your best friend and closest companion. This can lead to some things that gross out the Seelie Court. Namely, Anti-Fairies being married even to their siblings. However, Anti-Fairies just consider marriage a bond between soulmates, and it’s not as weird for Anti-Fairies when you pair this with their more relaxed view of, well, engaging in intimate acts. Anti-Fairies can’t get pregnant if their counterparts aren’t, which removes some of the risk of certain intimate acts.

Basically, Anti-Fairies believe in soulmates, and acknowledge that you don’t have to have romantic feelings for your soulmate. Especially if your soulmate is your sibling. Anti-Fairy culture would rather promote going after someone you’re attracted to rather than engaging in intimacy with someone you’re not. Soulmates are supposed to support each other, and not be hurt when their partner wants to spend a night with someone else. In Anti-Fairy culture, two consenting partners coming together is completely acceptable, and one’s wife or husband is meant to respect and support their partner’s choices.

In short, you’re supposed to marry your soulmate, who is probably the person you were betrothed to when you were little. This soulmate is meant to be your best friend and support you, and you support them. Cheating isn’t considered a real thing and isn’t frowned upon; it’s just “his other family” or “her friend with benefits”. Soulmates are married, so you’re expected to raise your respective children together (For example, if your counterparts married different people and had kids with them, then there would be two different Seelie families, but the Anti-Fairy children would be raised together as one family with married parents).

There is a certain parental duty that comes along with marriage in the hopes of preventing deadbeat parents running out on responsibility. It can still happen, but the idea is that it’s your obligation to support your soulmate (who may not be the person you had kids with). These customs are less strict farther from the Blue Castle, though; they’re traditions, not laws, and not harshly enforced. In many areas of Anti-Fairy World, Anti-Fairies scoff at marriage altogether, and instead just engage in casual relationships without any sort of commitment. Anti-Fairy culture is okay with this as long as there’s mutual consent. Consent is easy to monitor in colonies, but among the loner types, it can be more difficult.

The important thing to remember is, consent is super valued in Anti-Fairy culture, there are just as many platonic marriages as there are casual flings, and Anti-Fairies don’t see anything wrong with what we would call cheating on your partner. They don’t really have a word for it, and have to describe the concept with general words.

Are there language barriers between the Fairies and Anti-Fairies?

The famous one is “sleep together”. Anti-Fairies often live in colonies, and hang together when they roost. “Roosting together” means roosting in the same general location. “Bundling” means hanging together so close that your bodies touch. You get lots of platonic cuddles in Anti-Fairy World. They’re meant to survive the cold, but even they get sick when it’s TOO cold. So, they snuggle for warmth a lot. Lots of casual hugs.

And casual hand-holding, since when you have a visitor to your [large] home, it’s common decency to lead them around by the hand so they don’t have to echolocate to avoid walls as you two talk. It’s weird, but Anti-Fairies have trouble seeing at all when they can’t echolocate. Like. Their eyes are right there. If you cover their mouth and show them something, they’ll look at it like they understand it’s there. But they’ll still jump in surprise when you take your hand away and let them echolocate again. It’s like their brains absorb some information through their eyes, but they can’t process it without really sensing the shape, size, distance, etc. their echolocation gives them.

To some degree, Anti-Fairies can see you when they’re talking, but not very well. It’s weird. For storytelling purposes, Anti-Fairy narrators have enough vision to help the reader follow along. When not narrating, I sometimes tone them back. Also, windows in Anti-Fairy World are usually covered by vertical bars, not glass panes. They can’t see glass, but can see through glass, and glass windows register as walls when they echolocate. They tend to run into windows. You should assume all windows in Anti-Fairy World have bars.

Back to the language stuff, Anti-Fairies tend to be super touchy-feely. They cuddle platonically for warmth and comfort, and rely on nonverbal cues like the twitching of ears or adjusting of clothes to progress to more intimate acts. The Seelie tend to be more verbal, and are likely to interpret platonic Anti-Fairy cuddles as signs of affection.

As I said earlier, to an Anti-Fairy, “sleeping together” literally means sleeping near each other, possibly cuddling each other in your sleep. To a Seelie, it’s of course a euphemism for mating. Anti-Fairies get confused when they hear gossip about who is sleeping with who. It’s just sleep, right? What’s the deal? Yeah, they slept with that person once. You want to know who else they slept with? They slept with this person one day, and this one after that, and the next week they slept with this one...

Also, because they sleep and mate upside-down (most of the time), Anti-Fairies don’t associate beds with mating. So if you say you went to bed with someone, you’ll get the same cautious, blank nods. Anti-Fairies have more words for platonic sleeping together than they do for mating. It’s mostly a nonverbal thing for them. I mean, they’ve got ears to twitch! Gotta use ‘em! I say nonverbal, but I suppose singing their courtship songs is technically verbal.

Actually, “singing” would be a casual Seelie word that causes Anti-Fairies to do a double take. Anti-Cosmo gets weird looks when he tells Seelie about the time he slept with the Head Pixie (when they fell into the chasm together during the War of the Angels, as we’ll see later). Sanderson gets surprised looks when he tells Anti-Fairies about the people he’s sung with. Like I said, Anti-Fairies have courtship songs. Saying you sang with someone is the equivalent of saying you slept with them in Anti-Fairy culture. There’s no look of horror like the one that crosses an Anti-Fairy’s face when you’re at a party talking about that time you sang with a human... or your mother.

The other famous language barrier is licking. In Origin of the Pixies, H.P. licks lots of people (mostly his pixies). He licks their faces as a nonverbal cue to remind them he’s dominant. His subordinates lick his neck to show they recognize and accept his dominance. This is basic biology for them and they don’t think much of it. In Anti-Fairy culture, licking the neck is one of those nonverbal cues to proceed to more intimate acts. Definite culture shock there. Wasps and bats. Whatcha gonna do?

There are also certain phrases that the other culture takes literally. Anti-Cosmo especially tends to be literal, and answer rhetorical questions, which again earns him weird looks from the Seelie. H.P. adapts to new phrases well in general. I don’t know if any of you guys noticed, but before he met Emery in Origin, he would say “Wait a wingbeat”. After hanging out with her, he picked up saying “Wait a second” instead. He also picked up “Roger that” from China, and “Dude” from Sparkle (and living in Lau Rell). He quickly picks up on new slang terms.

H.P. is better at separating literal and figurative language than Anti-Cosmo is sometimes. Anti-Cosmo is usually good, but there are certain things that throw him. Anti-Cosmo is very much a person who needs to learn things for himself. H.P. is the kind of person who subtly adapts to those around him. Writer humor.

The slang word Anti-Cosmo had to teach H.P. was “cool”. Before that, he would refer to people as “hot”, again earning him uncertain looks. Hey, he’s a busy guy and he can’t always keep up with the young whippersnappers. I just find culture differences and language barriers hilarious.

What are Anti-Fairy senses like?

Fairies and Pixies basically have 360° vision. 270° of that is visual. However, they can sense the auras of magical creatures around them and behind them, to the point that if someone were to stick their tongue at them from behind, the Seelie Courter could sense that just as well as they could if they saw it with their eyes. They can read facial expressions of those they aren’t looking at directly. In “China’s Finger Trap”, H.P. even sensed China slow her pace and put her hand over her mouth from the other side of a door. We’ll see Poof getting super uncomfortable during “Watch and Learn” due to what he can sense too.

The distance one can sense depends on one’s share of their magic pool. It can be mathematically calculated by measuring the distance between head and floating crown. Don’t ask me to invent that formula. I don’t want to know. Yet.

Anti-Fairies cannot sense auras like this. At least, not in the same way. Instead, they just get super intense hearing. We witnessed Foop’s extreme listening sense at the beginning of “Hidden”. Each magical creature registers as a different sound in the energy field. Fairies sound like tearing velcro. Pixies sound like a finger flipping through the pages of a book. In “Think Positive”, Anti-Cosmo said all genies register as gongs to him, even when they aren’t snapping their fingers to use magic. He also said anti-pixies sound like screeching brakes on a car out of control.

But, Anti-Fairy vision is much narrower than that of the Seelie Court. It’s much easier to sneak up on an Anti-Fairy than on a Fairy or Pixie. Though of course, it depends on how distracted they are, and how well they’re listening.

Can Anti-Fairies flip their eyes into field-sight like the Seelie Court?

Anti-Fairies cannot see the energy field or magic lines. You could say they have their own energy field they can see. They can see influences of luck and fate, called “karmic weaves”. We’ll learn more about that in “Fun With Yarn”.

BookwormGal and I were talking about Amanda Adams and the Fairy zodiac this one time. I joked that if I had written the confrontation scene between Timmy and Amanda vs. Anti-Cosmo and H.P. during “Never Had a Friend Like Me”, things would have gone very differently. Like, Anti-Cosmo realizing that Amanda balances the two end points of the positive and negative Leaves year traits (Bravery and Rashness) unusually well, and so he abruptly screeches to a halt to throw a huge ceremony in her honor. Just. In the middle of the revenge plan. I drew Amanda decked out in Leaves year green HERE, though I’ll have to redraw her someday since I’ve never been happy with how I did. Someday.

I wasn’t being completely serious about equilibrium, but then I ran with the idea and it got super out of hand. Specifically, if Amanda can embody Rashness in combination with Bravery, then it seems logical for H.P. to embody equilibrium for the Soil year traits (Perseverance and Obsession). You’ll see that very soon in “What Karma Is”. The Anti-Fairies drool over his karmic weave. And it’s going to keep coming up. Don’t forget. Not that you could. It’s hilarious. I’m hilarious.

Anti-Fairies can’t see the energy field like the Fairies can, but they can see karmic weaves. Or at least they can under certain conditions, such as when you cross your fingers behind your back. They know. They always know.

I’ve actually written some of that AU confrontation scene, since Bookworm gave me permission to make it a Prompt towards the end of the 130 called “You Deserve It”. Here’s a cool rough draft snippet of it, because I think it’s funny:

Timmy raised his eyebrows. “I don’t trust you.”

The Head Pixie grabbed the first three hangers from the closet. “I’m not even going to make up an excuse as to why you should. This wasn’t my idea.”

“Teleporting me away from my fairies? On Christmas? When they have no magic?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” he droned again. “Anti-Cosmo has been interested in your friend for some time now. I don’t know if you know this, but he has a long affinity with genies.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Until your fairies came along, he and Anti-Wanda were childless. He filled that void in his life by raising young genies instead. They’re an endangered species, so he bred them and they had babies. Recently it has come to his attention that your friend…?”

“Amanda Adams.”

“Ms. Adams has been in possession of a genie for a curious amount of time. The girl isn’t known to have the most attentive parents, so he thought he might surprise her with Christmas dinner and discuss her relationship with the genie in the process. Apparently, you happened to be in the room and got picked up along with her.”

Timmy wrinkled his nose. “Nope. Still don’t trust you.”

“Still wasn’t my idea.” H.P. sat on the edge of the bed with the mound of navy blue clothes in his lap. “If it makes you happier, genies do not surrender their powers as Fairies do. Thus, spending Christmas Day with a genie’s master is hardly as antagonistic as spending it with a fairy’s godchild.”

“Well, I’m a fairy’s godchild. And I think this is suspicious.”

H.P. blinked in a dull way. For him, that was probably a pretty normal blink. “Since you’re not the one Anti-Cosmo wanted to have dinner with, I would offer to return you to Dimmsdale. In fact, I would offer to go with you. The traditional Anti-Fairy foods are not exactly to my liking. Much too flavorful. However, I don’t think you would be pleased if I sent you there while Ms. Adams remained here.”

Timmy reluctantly acknowledged the truth of that statement, but didn’t pick up the offered jacket. “Are you going to be wearing colorful clothes to this dinner too? Man, you must really hate that.”

“Actually, I was born in a Soil year. I get dull brown.”

“Of course you do.”

Don’t mess with the Anti-Fairies when they find someone at equilibrium. The karmic weaves are both gorgeous and delicious. They feed on this kind of stuff.

That’s that for today. I was going to have some nature spirit stuff in this post, but they got their own giant post a few days ago instead. You’ll see this stuff in Knots, but it’s also here too. Feel free to ask questions if you have any.

#FAIRIES!#ridwriting #Bat cube and associates #Frayed Knots #130 Prompts #I'm wasp dad trash #Origin of the Pixies #Perfect pink beaver boy #BookwormGal

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tipsycad147 · 5 years

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How To Use Psychology To Guide Your Color Magic

SL Bear

When you’re just starting out in witchcraft, correspondences are important. They guide new witches through their first spells, giving them structure. After all, many of us have grown up following endless instructions from parents, teachers, and employers who have a set way of doing things and all you have to do is follow the rules. If you’ve grown up with religion, following steps in rituals will already be second nature and correspondences are the perfect roadmap to follow. You want a banishing spell? Simple, use black pepper, black candles, black cord. A money spell? Green candles, green stones, green herbs. I’m not being critical — I don’t think it’s a bad thing at all. You want spells to work and capitalising on tried and true methods seems like the surest bet, not to mention the easiest way to get your feet wet. Just make sure your intentions line up perfectly with your ingredients and ta-da! Magic.

As you grow into your craft, however, you learn that witchcraft isn’t a cookie cutter endeavour like school or a random job, with a one-size-fits-all method for success. You develop your own style, you learn what works for you, and you find new ways to practice. It’s important and second nature for us to evolve and grow into better witches over time. The crutch of online correspondence lists can evolve too. You can create your own personal correspondences based on your experience — not somebody else’s — and in doing this your craft becomes your own.

So where to start? I’ve chosen to focus on colour correspondences because I tend to see the most discrepancies in colour symbolism online and in books. The logic behind some of this symbolism often seems a little shaky. Money is green, so money spells require green. But wait, what if I use the euro? It’s rainbow coloured! Nature is more universally green than money. While herb symbolism is based heavily on tradition, colour symbolism changes at random depending on what source you’re using. Today, I’m going to provide you with information so that YOU can decide what these colours mean to you based on your own personality and life experience, making your magic more personal and therefore more powerful.

What’s your favourite colour?

I’m sure we’ve all asked and answered this innocuous question more times in our lives than we can possibly remember. You asked this question in kindergarten of potential new friends you wanted to get to know. You answered this question when you flirted with a new romantic interest. You posed this question when you were just bored, hanging out with someone you’ve known for years. But why? Is a favourite colour so much more informative than, say, a favourite number? Yes, because colours are evocative. A favourite colour can tell you things about yourself that you never guessed.

Colours capture our minds and hearts. Historically, people have turned to colours to heal, tell stories, and spread messages. In ancient Egypt, healers would place their patients in colour rooms or sit people in the path of light refracted by coloured gemstones, specifically tailored for various ailments. The colour red was a go-to in pre-modern medicine across many eras and cultures. Arab physician Avicenna, born in 980, would cover patients in red to cure them. King Edward II of England was placed in a red room to treat his smallpox. The Chinese wore rubies to ensure a long life. In Japan, sufferers of nightmares turned to red to banish them. The idea of a physician using colours to treat a patient today seems slightly ludicrous until you learn that premature babies are placed under blue “bili lights” to prevent jaundice. Perhaps, the ancient world was more sophisticated than we imagine.

World religions have always ascribed special powers and meanings to colours. Islam is associated with the colour green — the colour of paradise. Buddha and Confucius are both typically associated with yellow and gold, but with slightly different taste in robe colours; Buddha wore red and Confucius, black and white. In Christianity, the Virgin Mother is usually depicted swathed in blue and white robes, symbols of divine purity.

But what do colours really mean? Common knowledge will tell us that red is the most dominant colour that people perceive. Red catches the eye and energises us to act. Or stop acting, if it’s a stop sign. Red’s power is not just psychological, but physiological. In 1958, scientists found that exposure to red light can actually raise your blood pressure. Never underestimate the power of red — advertisers certainly don’t! Huge corporations like Coca-Cola, Virgin Atlantic, and Nintendo all rely on red to grab the consumer’s eye. McDonald’s arches may be golden, but they’re nestled in a bright red background.

That’s not to say that the rest of ROYGBIV is lacking in some power or psychological umph. All colours on the warmer end of the spectrum inspire an emotional response, even the sometimes maligned yellow. While admittedly the traditional colour of cowardice, yellow is also the colour of the sun, which made it particularly important to ancient cultures the world over. And yellow’s sparkly cousin — gold — needs no explanation. People see everything desirable in gold: Valour, wealth, achievement. It sits on the heads of kings and queens. It rings the fingers of the married, a symbol of fidelity and a lasting oath. Perhaps yellow’s problem isn’t its shade but its brightness. Bright yellow can be difficult on our eyes and brains. However, a nice, muted yellow is pleasing.

Orange can be a tougher sell, at least in western eyes. In Asia, orange is associated with spiritual enlightenment. In the west, at least in certain shades, orange is more garish — the colour of second-rate sodas and children’s TV networks. Perhaps, as one psychologist posited, it’s all about climate. People in warmer climates love orange’s warmth and brightness. It’s all around them, in the sumptuous flora and the delicious fruit. It has similar aesthetic qualities to red, in that it brings out strong positive emotions, but they’re less intense — red’s little sister. Where red denotes passion, orange brings fun and youthful exuberance.

Warm colours, orange in particular, are often indicative of levity on the stage and film, even in the characters themselves. What colour is Peter Pan’s, Pippi Longstocking’s, and Ron Weasley’s hair? It’s believed that warm colours induce such good feelings, that warm lighting can even make you feel like time is slowing down. Warm colours are inviting. Extroverts are even said to prefer warm colours, because of their lively natures. We relate to them; even our skin tones are naturally warm.

But don’t discount the introvert’s preferred palette: Blue, green, indigo and violet. You don’t want to be energised all the time — sometimes you want to cool down. Green is regarded as the most calming colour. The colour of nature, of life’s continual renewal, and probably the only member of the Cool Family we really want to eat.

Blue is also generally interpreted as a peaceful, divine, intellectual or transcendent colour but, as with other cool colours, our perception is deeply dependent on context. We might see ourselves as “red hot,” but nobody wants to be blue (or green), literally or figuratively. Warm lighting makes us feel good (and look good), but cool lighting brings out the flaws and brings on the migraines. Purple generally gets a better psychological rap. It’s an exotic, egomaniacal colour which represents opulence and commands attention. Luxury goods (excepting Taco Bell) and royalty favour the appeal of purple and indigo to set themselves apart. In fact, Julius Cesar declared only the emperor may don purple robes. It’s said that the artist’s favourite colour is usually purple (or artists formerly known as…). While the cool tones heavily depend on context for their appeal, they still manage to claim the world’s favourite colour: Good ‘ol moody blue.

Black and white are special cases. In terms of light waves, white light contains all the colours in the visible spectrum and black is the absence of all light. In a physical form such as paint, it’s just the opposite. Black is all colours mixed together and white is the absence of colour. This duality perfectly mirrors the interpretation of black and white across cultures. Black is visually impactful — a startling absence of colour and vitality. Almost universally, black is associated with heavy, dark emotions. It can express foreboding, authority, formality, and even death. But there are really two sides to black. Black is often the colour of mourning and sorrow, but a little black dress is the epitome of sexiness. Black is the colour of intriguing mystery and the unknown.

White is generally associated with purity, rebirth, and cleanliness. But white is also sterile and empty. Interestingly, China flips the association of black and white with death and life. White is the mourning colour, and black is more commonly associated with life. Black and white together are even more stark and eye-catching. Naturally, the combination of black and white has intense symbolism. Yin and yang, dark and light, life and death. You can’t have one without the other. They are opposites whose visual power is enhanced by the other’s presence.

Personal Rainbow

With this information, we can base our colour choices in magic on logic and psychology instead of arbitrarily assigning associations. Most importantly, you can base these colour choices on your own personality. Are you an introvert who would like to be more outgoing? Turn to warmer colours to boost self-confidence. Do you live in a cooler climate? Icy colours will feel like home and you’ll connect with them more deeply.

Instead of turning to green for money and luck spells, look to violet and gold — the luxury colours worn by rulers — and save the green for calming spells and spells with a strong natural element: Rejuvenation, new beginnings, and spells focused on mothers. I live in colourful Colorado, so while blue is a calming colour to me (the association that pops up over and over), primarily it’s the colour of the Rockies and the sky, powerful entities that loom over my city and seem larger than life. For me, blue in spells means natural wonder, immovability, and majesty. However, for someone living by the sea, blue might mean changeability, harvest (fishing), or peace. Someone living in the city might see blue as elusive — the colour shining between buildings, or only seen on trips away from the city. Maybe to you city witches, blue is industrial and commercial — the colour of cars and billboards.

Not only will your colour association change based on your location, but your perception. How do certain colours make you feel? How do you connect and react to them because of your own personal experiences? Black is the colour of mourning, but to a witch, black is the colour of mystery, of the wonderfully peaceful night. It’s the colour of cats, of recently burned sigils and ink scribbled into grimoires. Black is the backbone of our witchin’ aesthetic. It’s the colour of magic at work!

So, witches, for the first time ever I’m giving you homework. Before working any more magic involving colours, sit down, get centred and make a list of colours. Next to each colour, write down exactly how this colour makes you feel, what it reminds you of, and if it’s for “positive” or “negative” magic. Access your psyche! Rely on yourself for your correspondences and watch as this brilliant world of colour magic starts working wonders for your spells!

https://thetravelingwitch.com/blog/how-to-use-psychology-to-guide-your-color-magic

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magdalenatarot · 7 years

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As you know, on occasion, I get personal with my readers when I feel there’s a broader metaphysical lesson to teach from a mystical experience that I have.

Things began to shift Friday night. I was sitting in the park with my friend, mentor and graphic designer, Christopher Gueluff. We were reading cards and suddenly I look up and I realize I’m staring straight at the scene from the 10 of Pentacles from the Goddess Tarot Deck.

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I showed Chris and he thought it did look a lot like the card. I wondered what could be coming …

I joined the Rosicrucians in November but due to constant disruptions, I’ve never been able to make it to the temple. That changed on Sunday when I went to the Temple for the first time. I felt the shift again as I was standing at the bus stop and a man with a dozen red roses came and stood behind me in line. We passed a mural of sunflowers (a power symbol for me since I identify with the Queen of Wands) and I knew that I’d fallen into flow with the way things should be. When I got to the office park where the temple is, I was confused trying to find the temple. I looked all over the vast rows of buildings and could not find the right unit. Then I saw what looked like a white dove fly overhead. I looked down and saw a young man and an old man going behind a corner. I decided to follow them and I ended up right where I needed to be.

I was greeted with hugs like an old friend and I knew I was in the right place.

Without giving too many details because the Rosicrucians are a Mystical Order, I had a powerful experience during the ritual’s mediation. We had just talked about energy healing which I am a big skeptic of but I listened with an open mind.

I had been fighting going into a trance during the entire ritual. It was the kind of trance that was so heavy that I felt like it would put me straight to sleep. But finally, I couldn’t fight it any more and gave in.

Suddenly, I was on a bus. A woman that was so agelessly beautiful with such a pretty copper skin tone and such beautiful, greenish, yellow eyes got on the bus behind me. She was short and kind of lanky. She had some clunky boots on and some kind of light blue lace dress with bell sleeves and all kinds of silver, jangling jewelry and trinkets hanging off her. She also had a silver nose ring with a chain that connected to her earring. Her chest length hair was very straight, shiny and dip dyed aqua.

The vision was so vivid I could smell the fumes of the bus, feel the wind from the open window and feel the plush cushions of the seat. I sat down and the woman sat down next to me. She looked at me and said, “We can’t help you unless you trust us.” I started to cry and she held my hand. I knew she was an angel and I asked her what her name is. She told me, “Georgia.”

She held my hand and I felt tears slip down my face in this world while I was in the world of the vision at the same time.

After the ritual we had a meal together and some of the fraters and sorors were talking about traveling. One of them lives the dream, traveling all over the world. I said I used to be able to travel but something happened and I can’t manifest it anymore.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

“I don’t know … there’s so many places to go, I can’t pick one.”

“Pick one and visualize it.”

After the meeting I spoke with another member about how terribly behind I am on my studies. Since my finace left me, I’ve been too depressed to do anything. Keeping Magdalena Tarot going has been a big struggle but at the same time, it helps me find meaning in life.

The frater I spoke with told me that I need to get back to my studies and told me just to keep it up and don’t worry about how far behind I am. Just keep studying.

I went home with every intention to print my materials (I learn best from printed resources) but I was out of paper. But when I went to the store to buy some more on Tuesday night, the register was down so I got a whole box of paper for free. It’s usually $24. The manager said to look at it like a present.

It certainly was. I printed my monographs, made a binder and put them in my bag to study at work since it’s been super slow.

I was reading about visualization in my mystical studies. My text recommended the reader visualize all the colors of the rainbow. It went on to describe the vibrations of light and how rain splinters light and creates rainbows. It talked about the color black and how it absorbs light and how white reflects it.

I thought of this beautiful, extremely dark skinned, African model and I wondered what her experience must be like absorbing so much light. She looks like how I envision the goddess, full of night.

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Photos or 24-year-old Nyakim Gatwech are not mine. Original photographer unknown

On the contrary, I’m really fair skinned. Sometimes I glow in the sun I’m so white. Even though my skin is pink, it’s such a light pink that it reflects light. I’m so sensitive to light that I have to hide under big hats and parasols and behind sunglasses or the sun burns my skin and eyes. I visualized myself full of light and refracting colors.

Shortly after this, I had an unpleasant exchange with my ex. We’re wrapping up the last week and a half at the apartment and we’re getting rid of furniture. I had a mental breakdown because Adam (my ex) managed to get rid of all our furniture today which is good, but the futon I sleep on is going tomorrow which is bad because I have nothing to sleep on for the last week and a half at the old place. We had a terrible fight about furniture logistics, which lead to a huge fight. I tried to cry secretly at my desk but it hurt so much I started to whimper. I noticed a rainbow in my tears splashed on my shirt. My boss caught me crying and told me to take a walk. It was the end of the day and I got to go home soon. I composed myself the best I could and came back.

A light rain pelted me ad I walked to the bus stop. I turned around and a huge rainbow arched over the street. I remembered what I read and how I visualized a rainbow at my desk. And behold, one appeared over my work.

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The bus driver asked me how I was doing. I told him I had a bad day. Then I pointed to the rainbow and said, “There’s a rainbow over there though! It’s a good way to end the day.” The bus driver replied he’d had one of his worst days in a long time and thanked me for pointing it out. I pointed it out to another passenger who thanked me as well. On my way off the bus, the driver says, “Thank you for the rainbow, it made my day.” And I wondered if my visualization acted as a vehical to bring it the rainbow into existence. I watched the rainbow through the grimy bus and train windows during my commute home, in awe at how it appeared just as my text said it could if my concentration was strong enough.

I got off at the bus at the station. Almost a year ago today I was heartbroken over a man I shouldn’t have loved. Today I am heart broken over the man I should have given that love to. And sure enough, the rainbow appeared right in almost the exact same place it was in a year ago. Almost 7 years ago to the date I was broken hearted and a rainbow appeared over Tokyo, where I was living at the time.

I guess my tears refract light. And Every time I blink my eyes now, I see that rainbow burnt into my eyelids like metaphysical reading said would happen. It said that if you stare at a color, the complementary color will appear when you close your eyes. I also realized that the forecast lined up with today as well.

Wednesday 7/19/17 # Soul Essence Numerology: 9 Moon Enters Gemini 12:31 AM PST

The Soul Essence card is a card that was added to the Tarot by the creator of this deck, Richard Hartnett. This is a card that brings events that help you connect with the deepest parts of your soul and answer questions like, “What’s my life purpose?” If you feel less than harmonious, ask yourself why. Mercury Trine Saturn at 12:16 PM PST is a transit that brings serious thoughts and feelings to the surface. It’s time to get organized. Moon square Neptune at 11:19 PM PST is a transit of fantasies and illusions. If you are seeking answers you may find them in the mystical. The Moon is in the dual sign of #Gemini today asking you to unite both your dark and light sides to find balance. The number of the day is 9, a number of near completion.

“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in” Sculpture and picture by unknown

There is a Crack in Everything, that’s How the Light Gets In As you know, on occasion, I get personal with my readers when I feel there's a broader metaphysical lesson to teach from a mystical experience that I have.

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thesunlounge · 5 years

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Reviews 202: S&W

Dub Disco has been growing increasingly ambitious with each release and their upward ascent hit a high point last year with the pop psychedelia and euphoric remix collection Dub Disco Presents Aporia + Remixes. And now, the imprint steps beyond their characteristic brown sleeves, playful caricatures, and 12” oriented jams into the wonderful world of the balearic long player. Thomas Schiller and Samuel Krist, otherwise known as S&W, have appeared on Dub Disco before and their track “Cashmere Green” from Dub Disco Presents S&W is among the label’s best. But even considering the high quality of that 12”, the awe-inspiring visions and expansive sonic vistas of duo’s debut album A Weekend Far Out are quite surprising, as S&W craft a sun-dappled soundtrack for a fantasy vacation along the mediterranean, one where crashing waves background immersive balearic adventures through ambient clouds, dreamy African folk spells, hypnotic house and disco rhythms, lush Rhodes chordscapes, island breeze mallet instruments, 90s chill-out glides, and paradise worlds of tropical krautrock and kosmische synthesis, among many other shades and styles. And tying together the whole journey is the magical full color artwork of @victoria-stampfer.

S&W - A Weekend Far Out (Dub Disco, 2019) Crashing waves introduce “Arrival at the Shore” and are soon joined by a Rhodes piano…it’s liquid chord fantasias decaying mesmerically over starlight arpeggiations. As the seaside ambiance slowly fades away, it is replaced by heavenly pads that swirl in from oceanic depths through hypnotic phaser movements and cut-off manipulations, adding a feverish sense of motion to the faded aqua haze. “Ocean View Drive” follows with golden piano leads and balmy synth chords flowing above timbales and breathy cymbal movements while romantic electronic squiggles swim through the sky…this magical introduction eventually washed away by effervescent kick drums, static smothered snares, and rimshots that echo over bubbling krautrock basslines. Buzzing synths weave LSD dreamscapes and sometimes the melodic elements back away, leaving clacking rimshots and hypnotic motorik beats to chug beneath grooved out bassline magic. It’s like slow motion cruising down the autobahn on a serene sunny day, only as if transported to a fantastic seaside world where euphoric synth sequences float on rays tropical sunlight, bringing vibes of Hatchback and the rest of the Pacifica scene along the way.

“Cloud Palace” will surely be one of the balearic anthems of the year, starting as it does with aquatic marimba patterns looping the mind into a solar trance state while luscious synthwaves build underneath. And as the idiophones dance over thumb piano tapestries, flamboyant gated tom fills introduce a slamming seaside breakbeat that soars beneath deep house pads. Wooden mallet tones dance on spiritual sparkles and everything grows into a vibed out jam, one that’s supremely spaced out and sees crystalline piano chords floating on immersive sub-bass waves. The reverb soaked breaks glide eternally through paradise realms while static patterns surf in the background ether, evoking the heyday of 90s chill out and José Padilla’s Cafe del Mar compilations A mesmeric mallet instruments weave wooden dreamwebs. Cosmic synth descents bring airs of smooth jazz and touches of Afro-folk and at some point, everything vaporizes into gas, leaving the listener to float through the titular cloud palace before dropping once more into a vibed out jam seeing thick and subaqueous bass synths pulsate alongside climactic piano chords...the whole thing evoking some beachside dancefloor in a world of dreams, where everyone raises hands in the air as they surrender to S&W’s mystical ocean magic.

In the Crocodile Funk featuring “Mondello,” machine disco rhythms, spectrally morphed hand drums, and rattling snares are danced over by kaleidoscopic balafon melodies…the wooden planks and gourds vibrating ecstatically as they cast sunshine spells. Double-time hi-hats rush through the air while tropically flanged guitars play off the Malian folk incantations…like vibes of Tortoise intermingling with fiery Afro-disco. Sliding bass fluids move all around and give the disco glide a glowing dub pulse while echoing string and chime melodies dance on sunbeams. Then a radiant lead enters and is backed by morphing reso-squelches...as if smeared out alien steel drums are skipping on seashells while all around, white sand crystals gleam in the sun and wiggling mirage electronics and equatorial fevers fade in and out of clear blue waters. The wonderfully titled “New Age Fantasy” follows and features percussive synth bubbles, future-island hand drums swaying on squelching bass currents, and hypnotic panning beats. The effect is like being momentarily transported to a lazy summer vacation in the south Pacific, with percolating chime melodies like cool sea-spray against warm skin. It all strongly evokes the tropical exotica of Haruomi Hosono, especially as liquid star shine melodies flutter towards the clouds, marimbas float through psychedelic echo bubbles, and resonant fusion leads and wah-wah synths paint dream vibrations in the salty air.

The epic “Monte Pellegrino” features Gustaaf and unfurls across two parts, with the first setting emotional disco beats to glide on cosmic clouds while harmonious pads wash in with etheric wave flows. Twanging slap bass loops fire off alongside tight synthbass percolations and bongos ride through a balearic dreamscape adorned by strange sliding tones that simulate whale songs and dolphin lullabies. Mallet instruments are submerged in cosmic-aquatic fx as they dance through the sky before dropping away and allowing the track to vibe out for an extended passage of lush synthesized chordscapes and tropical disco rhythms. As the sea-blue idiophones return, they grow in strength while the rhythms recede, giving space to pad meditations, chirping insects, and the ceremonial sounds of the sea. The second part of “Monte Pellegrino” emerges from these oceanic nature spells with bass synths walking along the shore and trancey orchestrations building atop chill-out atmospherics. Bongos join pulsating string synths as the schmaltzy fusion slap-bass returns…the whole mix floating in a beatless ambient wonderland where everything seems to radiate gold and aquamarine. When the disco beat finally returns alongside polyrhythmic mallet dreamwebs, we find ourselves gliding towards a sunset horizon as everything zones out for toes in the sand and cocktail in hand bliss…like sitting on some hidden beach of impossible beauty while birds of every color fly tree to sea and rainbow fish shimmer below the water’s surface

New age keyboard chimes and a hovering sense of seaside warmth pervade “Garden of Cosmic Speculation” and a vibed out beat is led by heady cymbals…the whole thing reveling in that kind of slow motion balearic house by way of fantasy disco that you find in Maricopa’s recent work. Gorgeous staccato synth riffs blast the mind with currents of aquatic power that are physically enveloping and swell the heart and minimal chord ascents carry a nostalgic sense of euphoria as we transition towards playful pastures where jacking bass synths dance and descend across glowing cosmic pools while looping synth chords move through the sky and pan-pipe electronics skip on the surface of an interstellar ocean. When we return to the sensual disco paradise, soul-lifting FM synth fluids solo and vibrate…their leads bringing polychromatic visions and joyous laughter until the mix momentarily spaces out into fractal streaks of starlight, zany delay oscillations, and emotional chord flows under soft filter movements. And as we journey once more to the playful realm of cosmic dance magic, huge columns of reverb drift into the sky while balafons join the spiritual sea sway.

There are further slow-motion disco romantics and heady hi-hat patterns on display in “After the Tempest,” with the mix featuring seabirds flying high in the sky…their evocative calls morphed into silvery light and moving through gaseous bodies of synthesizer mist. Chugging basslines thump the chest as Rhodes pianos drop gemstone percolations that shimmer throughout the mix. Tambourines jangle while tubular square wave leads enter…their meditative movements backed by narcotic fog banks of mermaid euphoria…and sizzling synth winds blow all around, eventually leading to an ambient passage where heart-wrenching chords movements and fluttering echoes preclude a climactic sound rush that brings back the soaring beats. As they return, the disco drums seem to hit harder than before...the whole song evolving into hammock house perfection ringing out from eternal island cliffs and rained down upon by kosmische sequences and LSD filter tweaks. The vacation ends with “Homecoming” and its alien contrabass tones emanating from underwater caverns. Bubbling sea synths communicate with coral and fish and the inky black ambiance is eventually brought into the light by beautiful pianos that wrap the soul in their watery chord flows. Chiming sequences swim through the depths as rays of sunlight break through the surface and refract off of a seabed of rubies, emeralds, and sapphires and all the while, pizzicato melodies beamed in from another dimension stoke wistful memories of a time in paradise and crashing waves sounds return to cleanse the mind.

(images from my personal copy)

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