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metalhoops · 10 months

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Inspired by this post

Steve had watched the world end a hundred different ways. He’d lived the same day more times than he could count, watching the people he loved die or feeling himself die. There were things worse than death. There were memories he didn’t dredge up for fear of calling them into the waking world.

He'd held onto hope for the first twenty recurrent days, which had dwindled to a sense of steely determination until he’d lost count of the days. Then all that was left was the comfort of repetition. He was Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill, day in and day out. Steve kept trying and failing to save Eddie until it was all he knew.

Maybe he was Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods and spent his life paying for it, tied to a rock while birds picked at his liver, only for it to grow back with each morning. Prometheus whose name, by definition, means forethought; one’s ability to consider possible futures. Steve had spent a small lifetime considering futures. It wasn’t a comparison he would’ve made on his own. That was Eddie, who’d spent his childhood with his head in thick tomes of fantasy and mythology.

Eddie Munson came to him like cheap furniture, in crudely disassembled pieces that Steve had been working tirelessly to put together. Each new loop brought him another piece of Eddie. His favourite colour was blue. He only woke up early on weekends to watch cartoons. He liked too much cream in his coffee.

The Eddie that existed in a world where Steve stayed with him and Dustin during the swarm of bats had told Steve his biggest dream was to make enough money to buy Uncle Wayne a proper home. His biggest fear was that when he died, no one would remember him.

Days or months later, with Steve repeating the same damn day, he’d finally learnt why Eddie’s love for his uncle ran so deep. Wayne had taken him in before his dad went to jail when the man caught Eddie holding another boy’s hand. In that world, Steve had stayed with Eddie in the RV as the rest of the group searched War Zone.

Eddie’s mother died when he was six. He’d told Steve that later, or earlier. Steve had and has lost his sense of past and present. Eddie loved his mother deeply, though was unsure if that love had been misplaced. He recalled two mothers, one who read him bedtime stories and threw herself around the kitchen each morning with her wild theatrics and another mother who was distant and whose temper could turn on a dime. Eddie wasn’t sure which of those mothers was his and which was the mother of memory. All good storytellers know the story shapes itself in the retelling. Eddie’s mother was Janus, god of duality.

Steve understood. He loved and hated his parents. These feelings weren’t mutually exclusive. Steve loved Eddie because he’d spent the last hundred-odd days getting to know him, but Steve hated Eddie because he kept dying. Until he didn’t.

The boys lay side by side in the red-blue soil of The Upside Down, their bleeding sides caked with mud and demonic bat viscera. In the end, Steve wasn’t sure what’d done it. It’d been so long since he’d lived Eddie’s original death that it’d been smeared by the haze of memory and conjecture. All he knew was that a sea of bats lay dead around them and that it was over. Finally, over.

Steve removed his hand from where it was pressed into his side and extended it to ensnare Eddie’s. He felt muscles tug and tear from the walls of his ribs with the effort. Blood flowed freely from the cavity, but Steve didn’t care. He wanted to hold Eddie’s hand. Holy shit, they’d done it.

Somewhere along the way, Steve had fallen in love. It’d taken him ten more iterations to reconcile with the fact he could not only like a man but love him. That was months ago, in Steve’s time. It was old news. “Steve, you still with me?” Eddie asked, his voice horse.

He was hurt, though not as badly as Steve. All his wounds were superficial. He’d be okay. Steve had been so sick of watching Eddie die, he’d been willing to put his body on the line to make sure it didn’t happen again.

In this loop, he was still ‘Steve’, not ‘Stevie’. They hadn’t grown close enough yet. Eddie only called him ‘sweetheart’ in the iterations where they kissed. Steve wanted to kiss him, but there was the taste of iron in his mouth.

“I’m okay,” Steve insisted, squeezing Eddie’s hand. He felt a sharp pain shoot through his side as Eddie pressed his hand into Steve’s wound.

“Christ, there’s a lot of blood,” Eddie muttered to himself.

He was bad with blood. He’d scraped his knee down to the bone when he was seven and ever since, the sight of gore made him queasy. Steve wasn’t meant to know that yet. In this iteration, he hadn’t told Eddie about the loop. He’d tried before, but it never helped.

Pain and blood loss drag Steve down into a familiar oblivion. He expected to wake at the beginning of the loop, emerging in The Upside Down from Lover’s Lake, but instead, he found himself in a hospital room with Eddie in a bed by his side. It was late, too late for visitors, but Eddie wasn’t sleeping. His eyes were trained on Steve, equal parts concerned and curious.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Eddie confessed, as Steve’s eyes met his.

Steve wanted to cry or scream. He wanted to untangle himself from the knot of cords and tubes to crawl beside Eddie in bed as they had curled up together in the back of the RV dozens of times before. He needed to hold Eddie to know he was alive, to understand he wasn’t going anywhere. Steve blinked away tears, balling his hands into fists. He didn’t want to scare Eddie.

“I scared you?” Steve choked out a mixture between a laugh and a sob.

Eddie didn’t know what to do. He never knew what to do when people cried. Steve learned that in the iteration where they’d lost Dustin. He didn’t want to think about it.

“You almost died, man,” Eddie explained.

He somehow understood Steve wanted him closer. Eddie got out of bed, clutching his I.V. drip as he flopped into the chair by Steve’s bedside. He wanted to hold Eddie’s hand again, but he was out of excuses. He could tell him the truth, but he didn’t know what good it would do.

Steve was still used to thinking of possible futures. He was Prometheus who, unlike Sisyphus, escaped his torment. Steve wondered what happened to Prometheus after he was rescued. Did he return to a normal life? Does anyone bother to ask? Prometheus’ story is always about punishment. Afterwards, he was a footnote in the story of Hercules, but once the heroes leave the story, what’s left?

Eddie would know the answer, but it wasn’t a conversation he’d had with this Eddie. That Eddie was dead. This Eddie was and wasn’t him. This Eddie was Janus, god of abstract duality, god of beginnings and ends, god of life and death.

“Sorry my lame-ass face is the first one you had to see. Robin and the kids were in here all day. Wheeler left flowers,” Eddie tacked on awkwardly.

This Eddie didn’t know Steve. They were strangers. Of course, things were awkward. He couldn’t know he was the one person Steve wanted to see more than anything.

“No, Ed’s—.” Slip of the tongue.

“Eddie. I’m really glad you’re here, man.”

They were back to square one, but Steve could work with that. He’d been working with that for months. This time, Eddie would remember. This time, they had the luxury of taking things slow.

“One thing’s been bugging me all day,” Steve began.

After hundreds of days of getting to know Eddie, Steve had learnt a few shortcuts, a few ways to jump-start his way into Eddie’s heart.

“Can you explain what the hell Mordor is?”

It was a tried-and-true method. By that point, Steve knew Eddie’s response off by heart, but he wanted to hear him say it. Eddie gave him the same perplexed look he always did when Steve asked. It was as though Eddie thought he knew too much like there was some secret he wasn’t letting him in on, but he didn’t challenge Steve on it. He never did.

“Harrington, have you heard of Lord of the Rings?” Yes.

“No.” A million times.

“Tell me about it.”

Read Part 2 Here

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #ficlet #Metalhoops writes #I read the post yesterday #and I've been thinking about it ever since #the plot kind of ran away with itself #but I like how it turned out #I'm considering a part 2 #from Eddie's point of few in the weeks/ months that follow #depending on if people are interested #shoutout to #@theamazingbard #for the idea

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 18 days

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Hello! It's me again. I'm probably pestering you, lol. I think a lotta people give flack for the Octavinelle trio being ruthless and "behaving like a Mafia." But I think considering where they live it makes sense? They live in the ocean. And the ocean is a kill or be killed environment, where you have to the strongest and toughest. If not? You at least have to be quick witted and unable to be seen, otherwise you'll be dead. If the trio become too soft they'll be fish meat.

I think the fandom is pretty divided when it comes to perceptions of what the Coral Sea is like. On one hand, you have the people who think of it as like living in Atlantica, which is basically just like living in a peaceful and pretty city (but underwater). Then you have the people who think the environment would be so different it would shape its inhabitants to behave differently as well. The second one tends to be a darker or grittier interpretation which aknowledges dangers such as other undersea creatures and treacherous living conditions.

Personally, I lean on and enjoy the latter, since TWST rarely ever designs purely for the aesthetic of it; one example of this is how the twins are confirmed to be bioluminescent in the Magical Archives. This is a decision that was not made “because it would look cool”, but because many deep sea creatures rely on this trait to intimidate potential predators. It would make more sense for the cold waters of the Coral Sea to change its people rather than merfolks’ cities simply being civilizations moved several leagues under, especially seeing TWST time and time again really consider the geography and history of each new location and how those inform the cultures that form there.

However, I want to state that the Coral Sea would be very different depending on which area you’re in, just like how there are nice parts and bad parts of a city. It’s not ALL nice or ALL bad. For example, the Atlantica Museum in book 3 appears to be in a more photic zone, so there’s more sunlight and it appears pleasant to be in. Even the merpeople there seem to be different than the Octatrio; they less so resemble specific sea creatures and are much more akin to being human-like. We have yet to really see how the benthic zones are—but we do know they must be harsher, since Floyd has mentioned exploring shipwrecks and various dangers there (like sharks).

I also want to point out that there are subtle signs in dialogue which could imply merpeople prefer traits that promote survivability and adaptability in the ocean. Azul’s bullies are noted to taunt him for his weight, but also for his bulky tentacles and inky tears. Now why those traits specifically??? Because these impede his ability to swim swiftly (making it harder to escape danger) and easily give away his location (if he’s in hiding or camoflauging).

I’ve seen others suggest that maybe these comments are because of racism against octopus merpeople, who are a rare kind of merfolk. This is entirely possible, yes! But thinking about it like that… Isn’t it also possible that there aren’t a lot of octopus merpeople at the moment because it’s more difficult for them to escape or to hide from predators? Which then informs and perpetuates preexisting prejudices. In this context (plus the bullying), it makes sense why Azul may have “hardened” as a defense and survival mechanism. The same goes for the twins, who were explicitly taught how to defend themselves (although this also goes into the Leech mob family theory, which is a whole separate matter) and have often made references to fighting others in the Coral Sea. Their upbringings also play a part in their personalities, but so does the environment they grew up in. Like Azul and the twins, you’d have to harden mentally or physically to some degree to ensure your survival through tough circumstances.

It’s hard to say for sure though! A lot of this is speculation based on current but infrequent lore, and the Octatrio themselves are a very small portion of all merfolk. They may not be representative of the behaviors of all other merpeople, and we should keep this in mind when referring to them as our exemplars. That’s why I’ve been hoping for a Coral Sea hometown event so we have a more concrete idea of what life under the sea is like 😭

#twisted wonderland #twst #Azul Ashengrotto #Octavinelle #Floyd Leech #Tweels #Jade Leech #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #book 3 spoilers #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theories #twisted wonderland theory

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aka-indulgence · 10 months

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Now all I can imagine is the pirates stealing reader away and Sans just shows up and is met with a villager which he’s uninterested in until they’re like like “Um…some pirates kidnapped your wife…please don’t eat me.” and then Sans is just like “They WHAT?!”

Somewhere far away, the captain feels his sins crawling down his back.

Yes yes EXACTLY!! That’s what I thought when I was writing it

You meet with Sans almost every day. Though there are days where you don’t appear at the cliffside to meet him, usually you’ll come back the day after, or have already told him that you were going to be busy the day before.

(Of course he still comes, and though he’ll be sad, he’s not too broken up about it.)

But then you were gone for a day… then two… than three… the more he doesn’t see you the more agitated he becomes. He’ll rise up to the cliff and wait for hours on end. He’ll be there in the morning, leave, and come back at night.

It’s clear to the villagers that their Local Kraken is becoming upset, agitated even. They’re haunted at night by his cries and wails of despair at night.

After about a week he’s in anguish, storm clouds have gathered above the sea and the shores around it as Sans cries, not knowing what happened to his beloved human. The villagers get more and more frightful… sure when you were here he was as ‘harmless’ as a puppy, but without you it’s almost like he’s turned back to that unknown beast that come from the inky black depths.

Eventually they’re scared enough that instead of trembling in fear and avoiding the shore like a dead zone, they decide the longer the monster doesn’t have his gf the more likely he’s going to destroy everything- so they send one person to the cliffside.

At first Sans is excited to see a human on the cliff, but quickly realizes that it isn’t you. The small peek of sun is quickly covered by swirling clouds. It’s visible both in the sky and on his face, and the poor sap that was sent to talk to him is shaking in their boots. The dark anger on his face makes it look like he’s going to eat them or something (when really he’s uninterested), so they quickly blurt out:

“Sir… s-sir kraken! Please don’t eat me, I’ve come t-tp tell you that p-pirates have st-tolen your wife…?”

Sans was just about leaving when he hears it. He goes from despairing to rage. He grips the cliff until his phalanges dug deep grooves into it and yells (in their head), “WHERE DID THEY TAKE HER?!”

They blurt out in fear and quickly run away as Sans’ eyelights turn an angry red, practically roaring into the sky as lightning strikes, tentacles knocking boulders and upsets the shore as they sway violently.

His roar is heard far across the ocean… on a pirate ship, you wake up from a nap in your makeshift prison and a shudder runs along the captain’s spine.

“What been that, Cap’n?”

“... It’s probably nothing, maybe a clap o’ thunder. Get aft to work, lad.”

#kraken sans #ask #idk how my pirate lingo is doing sdjhf #villagers: DONT TAKE THE GIRL SHE'S THE KRAKEN'S WIFE #Captain: cap #villagers: D:#Sans: :] where's my wife #villagers: *points at the pirate ship* he did #Sans: hahahaha *die*

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loveoaths · 1 year

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i have a deep love for the Space Is The Ocean trope in all sci fi fantasy, but it is so underused in Star Wars!* why! it’s so good and would be right at home!

imagine: distress beacons from a ship grounded in an the asteroid belt ringing an unknown planet, and when out intrepid hero arrives to save them they slowly realize that everyone on the crew has been stuck halfway between dead and alive for 100 years, constantly reliving the day they got stuck here — Schrodinger’s Crew.

imagine: crew members with superstitious rituals and belief in the supernatural who swear that ships develop personalities and a limited degree of sentience, who whisper to the hyperdrive “Just one more jump little lady, I know you can make it, that’s it” when the hyperdrive is shot and the ship is about to be overrun by pirates — but what do you know, somehow that hyperdrive kicks to life one more time because Ol Joe knows just how to tickle her.

imagine: space sickness, black hole madness, crews who spend too long in the flare zone of a star gone supernova and who come back to port with a distant look in their too-bright eyes and a strange heat boiling beneath their skin and a sudden distaste for being landlocked.

imagine: creatures like sea angels but in deep space, said to flock near ship graveyards — did they ferry the dead to the next life, or did they guide them into the darkness in the first place?

imagine: religions based on the dark void and the strange extant life that defies her darkness.

imagine: spacers who have spent their entire lives chasing that darkness, who stare out their starboard window from the captain’s chair and swear, swear that sometimes, in the dead of night, something massive is staring back.

just… imagine.

#procrastinating on work to think about space once again #walkie talkie.#Star Wars

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kiri-cuts · 1 month

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Wooing a dreamboat's grave in "Lisa Frankenstein"

Warning! Spoilers! If you’re my type of person, then you likely relate to a scene in ‘Lisa Frankenstein” where Lisa (Kathryn Newton) steps awkwardly into a party and immediately recoils in disinterest at its prospects: Normies, popular people, jocks, bad jokes and even worse conversation. Awash in a sea of coddled conformity and vanilla personalities, Lisa wants to disappear. And she does – via a drink spiked with PCP and its vile consequences.

The scene is in stark contrast to an earlier one, which establishes Lisa as a romantic goth whose happy place is to sit beneath the handsome bust of an expired hottie’s grave and read poetry to it. Dead or not, Lisa is in deep with the dead. Her comfort zone isn’t with people. Hell, it’s not even amongst the living. All she needs is the fantasy of a cute guy – pulse be damned. For many teen girls, dead celebrities make for the perfect untainted crush: Kurt Cobain, Heath Ledger, Brittany Murphy, Tupac, River Phoenix, Elliott Smith Aaliyah, James Dean, Jeff Buckley, Anton Yelchin. For decades (hell, probably centuries), teen girls have been able to project their fantasies onto the pin-ups of the formerly living – the more tragic, the better. Dead celebrities can’t age, make gross missteps, or date someone you hate. As a result, they can never disappoint you or let you down. They simply remain beautiful and idealised – a butterfly pinned within a frame. “Lisa Frankenstein” takes this fantasy to the ideal next level. Lisa’s wooing of a corpse and her unbridled passion for him is so gigantic it’s almost a cosmic event. Sure, it’s the lightning bolt of a storm that wakes The Creature (Cole Sprouse). But to anybody who’s ever swooned so hard that their heart has felt big enough to swallow the whole universe, there’s an obvious truth: Lisa’s love was so electric that it woke the dead.

Stories rarely allow women to not only fantasise in this way but to take the opportunity to make their fantasy flesh. There are countless stories about lonely, misunderstood, and horny men who see their most potent sexual and romantic dream babes conjured into a living, breathing fuck machine: “Weird Science”, “Ex Machina”... “Splice” (though, good grief, how I wish that last one didn’t go there). While other movies like “Poor Things” and “Frankenhooker” approach this tale from a perspective that pokes holes in such tropes and empowers the object of affection, such a story nonetheless persists. Outside of an episode of “Sabrina the Teenage Witch” where Sabrina uses a dubious ‘Man Dough’ recipe from her chronically single aunts to create a date for the dance, I’m stumped as to recall any others. (Since I know you’re intrigued, Sabrina adds too much enthusiasm into the mix, and a supremely cute but overly perky Brian Austin Green pops out of the oven like a young Nick Cage on “Wogan”. He’s no Harvey Kinkle, that’s for sure). In “Lisa Frankenstein”, our titular heroine very actively indulges her romantic and sexual feelings toward The Creature. Tongueless and speechless throughout the film, Sprouse’s character exists solely for Lisa’s gratification. As she helps rebuild and restore him to the living, she also restores herself. Previously, Lisa, too, had developed reactive mutism following the murder of her mother. But with The Creature, she confidently begins to get her voice back – even if she does use it to enthusiastically encourage the occasional cold-blooded murder (hey, nobody’s perfect).

By the end, it’s just like my boy Nietsche says: She who fucks a monster might take care lest she become a monster. Except Lisa’s pretty okay with having the abyss gaze back into her. That abyss is her happy place, and that monster is her boo. This is the place where poetry becomes born into flesh and blood, creating the cutest boy she could have ever hoped to have sewn a severed penis onto. A place where love – even the mere fantasy of it – is all a person needs to sustain them. Pulse be damned.

#lisa frankenstein #diablo cody #lisa swallows #lisa x creature #film essays #film #cinema #girlhood #hell is a teenage girl

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mbari-blog · 10 months

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It’s International Polychaete Day, and this dazzling deep-sea worm is the star of the celebration!

The golden sea mouse, Laetmonice, wears a coat of brilliant bristles. That flashy ‘fit has a purpose: protection from hungry predators. For most scale worms, those bristles, called chaetae, help with locomotion. But Laetmonice has specialized harpoon chaetae that are ornamented with fang-like projections, spines, or other hooked structures that make an unpleasant mouthful for predators.

We’ve seen the golden sea mouse with our remotely operated vehicles (ROVs) at depths ranging from 1,500 to 4,000 meters (4,900 to 13,100 feet). They’re especially common on the muddy seafloor at Station M, an MBARI research site off Central California. Laetmonice is a deadly beauty—they scurry along the seafloor searching for prey including other worms, crustaceans, and echinoderms like sea stars and urchins. They’ll even eat decaying material and dead animals they find in their hunt.

Laetmonice belongs to the family Aphroditidae. Nicknamed the “sea mice,” these scale worms are remarkably diverse and can be found in virtually every marine environment, from shallow sunlit seas to the inky depths of the midnight zone. To date, scientists have identified around 174 different species of sea mice across seven genera.

In some of these clips, you’ll see two red dots. Those are lasers mounted on the ROV to measure the size of animals and other objects of interest. The distance between the dots is 29 centimeters (11 inches). Learn more about scale worms on our YouTube channel.

#InternationalPolychaeteDay #MBARI #DeepSea #SeaLife #Ocean #Nature #Science

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the-oaken-muse · 11 months

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Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse

Dannymay Day 24: NASA

Read it on AO3, if you dare.

Of all the places in the Infinite Realms Juno could have sent him for community service, it had to be the fucking Ghost Zone. He never thought he’d miss the Netherworld, but at least there he didn’t have to deal with Warden Pasty Face and the stick up his entire ass.

He banked a hard left, bobbing and weaving through the zero gravity obstacle course provided by the ectoplasmic landscape. Behind him, the thud of armor against rock let him know he was down a pursuer, as one of the guards collided with an island of floating debris.

God, this place was a dump.

He dove through a thick patch of green fog before ducking behind one of the many floating doors littering the not-air; grateful that he didn’t have breath to catch. Walker’s goons zoomed past his hiding place, following his previous trajectory on a trail that didn’t exist.

Ha! Suckers!

He may have evaded them for now, but he would have to keep moving. When they realized that he’d lost them, they would fan out and search, leaving no stone unturned until they eventually found him and dragged him squirming back to that hell hole of a prison to be crushed under Walker’s boot once more. He needed to put as much distance between himself and this part of the Zone as possible. Or better yet, find a way to the human realm.

He looked to his left, green. He looked to his right, green. He looked down, an endless abyss of green stared back at him.

Looks like he was going to have to ask for directions. Great.

The next door he came across was a deep shade of plum with intricate panels of solid mahogany and a crystal knob. He yanked it open.

“Hey! Anybody home? Hello? I’m lookin’ for—”

A sopping wet sponge splashed against his face. It lingered there for a moment before slowly sliding down, down, down and falling into the chasm below, leaving his face dripping suds. “…the ...nearest portal to Earth.”

The door slammed shut.

“Ugh, soap.” He wiped his face with his sleeve, smearing it with fresh grime.

He floated over to another door, this one a dark weathered indigo with a heavy iron latch. He pulled it open with a loud creak, “Wazzup!”

A burly, tattooed arm emerged from the dark interior and slapped him across the face with a dead fish before slamming the door shut.

Jesus, the ghosts here were rude. At least it wasn’t soap this time.

Next, he spun the wheel on a silvery lavender hatch until it popped up with a hiss.

“Hullo down there!” his voice echoed back. “I’m lookin’ for a human portal! Can ya help a brother out?”

A thick tentacle, in a green so dark it was almost black, snaked out of the hole. In a blink, the tentacle lashed itself around his neck, crushing his useless windpipe.

“Look, I’m a hugger as much as the next guy, but this is a little forward, don’tcha think?” he wheezed.

In response, it whipped him back and flung him into the infinite green like a pitcher throwing a fastball.

He soared, eyes watering, hair whipping, and jowls flapping, for what felt like an eternity, but the five watches on his arm all agreed was only a few minutes.

His flight ended abruptly when he splatted against a strange metal structure. Its surface hummed with energy, vibrating his entire being. He peeled himself off, smoothing out the dents its rivets left in his skin, and took a look. A swirling vortex brighter than the surrounding ectoplasm filled its patchwork steel frame. Unlike the other doors, it remained fixed in place rather than floating up and down gently in a sea of green; it was anchored to something, to another dimension.

Bingo.

He stood on the edge of the portal, plugged his nose, and dove into the pool of light.

The portal spat him out in a large room made of the same patchwork metal as the doorway. Though the scent of death was strong here, in the glowing green of the machinery and in the air, it was mixed through with the unmistakable vitality of the living.

Perfect. Now he just needed to… find a way to get his powers back again…

He slumped forward and groaned.

Living people with The Sight were one in a million, and of those, the ones that were dumb teenagers were even fewer. There was no way Lydia was going to help him out again after the whole fiasco with their wedding either. He needed a new plan, a new pawn… well, there was no time like the present to start looking.

He floated up, poking his head through the ceiling into a modest kitchen. There was a table for four in the middle of the room, but only one chair was occupied. A pair of faded blue jeans and beat up red sneakers bounced impatiently and he could hear the scratch of pencil on paper. Sounded like homework. Bo-ring!

Like a shark fin cutting through the waves, the top half of his head glided across the floor to the fridge. Maybe they had beer.

A small pile of brown crumbs just under the door caught his attention. He sniffed at them, chocolatey. He floated a little higher so that his mouth breached the tile and licked up the remains of someone else’s fridge raid.

“Mmm, fudge.”

The kid at the table startled and looked over in his direction. He could almost believe they were making eye contact right now.

It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

“Who the heck are you?”

Looks like it could. He cracked a rotten grin and rose fully out of the floor.

“I’m the Ghost with the Most, pleasure to meet ya, kid.”

He held out a hand to shake, a centipede skittered down his arm and around his dirt-crusted knuckles before heading back into his sleeve. The boy just stared at the proffered digit in disgust.

“The most what? Grease stains on your shirt?”

“That and so much more! You name it, I’ve got it. Charm, good looks, STDs—”

“Modesty.” The boy deadpanned.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I wear pants at least…” he began counting the fingers on one hand, “thirty percent of the time!”

“That’s not what I— You know what? Give me one good reason I shouldn’t soup you right now.” The boy snatched a thermos off the table and waved it threateningly.

Jeez, tough crowd.

He wasn’t sure what kind of soup was in there, but something told him he didn’t want to find out.

“Beeecauuuuse…” His eyes darted around for something he could use to turn the situation to his favor. Math worksheet? No. Half eaten sandwich? Maybe later. NASA t-shirt? Perfect. “I’m a star, kid.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of star?” The boy narrowed his eyes skeptically.

“Red supergiant, Orion constellation… I’m sure you’ve heard of me…”

He crossed his fingers behind his back. Please work, please work.

“Betelgeuse?”

“Got it in one, kid.” He swallowed his relief and winked. “You’re even quicker on the uptake than Lydia!”

“Who?”

“Uhh, no one! Hey, what’s that?”

Betelgeuse darted over to a group of photos on a shelf and picked one up.

“Who’s the chick in the tight blue suit?” He whistled, letting the back of the frame fall open and the picture to unfold. “Really doesn’t leave much to the imagination does it?”

“Um, ew! That’s my mom!” The kid snatched the photo out of his hands and inspected the back of it. “How did you even do that?”

“I’d let her be my mommy any time.”

“…I will literally do anything for you to never talk about my mom ever again.”

“Anything?”

“Like, within reason. I’m not gonna, you know, kill anybody or anything.”

“Would you… be willing to… maybe… say my name three times in a row?” He bit his lip in anticipation.

The kid considered him suspiciously. “Is this like a kink thing?”

“What? No! Pshhh! No! Well maybe sometimes… Absolutely not, no. Cross my heart! See!” He drew an X on the right side of his chest.

“Yeah, no. Still don’t trust you.”

“C’mon kid!” He skidded to his knees in front of the boy. “Please, please, please! I’ll owe you one! I’m good for it! Promise!”

He clutched at the NASA shirt desperately. He couldn’t let this kid slip through his fingers, it might be another hundred years before he found another living person who could see him. He’d tasted the blood of freedom and he wanted more.

The boy grimaced and tried to pull away, Betelgeuse scrabbled after him. “I’ll get out of your hair, promise! Just three little words! Just three!”

“Okay, jeez, fine. If it’ll get you leave,” the boy groaned.

“YES! I mean!” He cleared his throat, “Yes.”

“Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse. Now get out of my house.”

Power surged then fizzled within him.

“Wow. That was anticlimactic.” He deflated. “Ah well, a deal’s a deal! See ya kid!”

He flew up through the ceiling with a sloppy salute.

What a chump! That was almost too easy.

-later-

That was definitely too easy.

Betelgeuse scowled as yet another hand reached through his head to grab a jug of milk.

His powers had been on the fritz ever since he got them back. One minute he was turning the floor into a writhing mass of roaches, the next, poof, they were gone! The unsuspecting sap he’d been about to scar for life left… unscarred.

He could tap someone on the shoulder, but when they turned around, they just looked straight through his carefully crafted horror show of a face; he’d hidden in dumpsters to jumpscare people taking out their trash, but they didn’t even see him; and his fruit fly cream pies went right through their targets.

Figures, it was just his luck that the one fucking human in this whole damn city who could see him was fucking defective.

Betelgeuse opened the glass door and stepped out of the grocery store refrigerator, he needed to find that kid.

#dannymay2023 #day 24 nasa #danny phantom #danny fenton #beetlejuice #betelgeuse #space nerd danny #loose interpretation of the prompt #crack #crack fic #swearing #feel free to peer pressure me to continue this one after dannymay

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girlactionfigure · 3 months

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*ISRAEL REALTIME* - "Connecting the World to Israel in Realtime"

🔹No rockets from Gaza yesterday.

▪️Wall Street Journal: Israel informed the US of its intention to establish a buffer zone one kilometer deep in the Gaza Strip.

▪️Shiite militias of Iraq (Iran supported and weapon supplied) state they have shut down Israel’s Haifa and Ashdod ports via suicide drone attack. “The Islamic resistance in Iraq began the second phase of the naval blockade of the Zionist entity, which includes: a naval blockade in the Mediterranean Sea and the shutdown of its seaports. The siege on it will continue until the blockade of Gaza is lifted and the massacres in the Gaza Strip stop.” This is called believing your own propaganda and assuming that your enemy failing to report on it is enemy lies.

▪️Flood alert: Normal Negev and Dead Sea sites for seasonal rain flow are flooding or expected to flood and must be avoided. Hiking and nature trips should be suspended. The National Center for Flood Prediction: a flow has been detected down Nahal Ergot, it is expected to reach Highway 90 soon.

▪️The compound and neighborhood where 21 soldiers fell was destroyed yesterday afternoon.

🔶 GAZA-HAMAS Front

▪️Heavy fighting continues in Khan Yunis, including airstrikes on enemy terror squads.

▪️Enemy action reports: Violent bombardment in various parts of the Gaza Strip now. Israeli aircraft bombed a group of people (fighters - but we report they were children) on the shore of the sea near Rafah, south of the Gaza Strip. Heavy concentration of IDF forces southwest of Gaza City. IDF tanks firing at buildings next to Nasser Hospital in Khan Yunis, south Gaza.

▪️Gaza Now reports that somehow, nobody knows why (sarcasm), the HUNDREDS of trucks of food aid entering Gaza and sent to north Gaza keep not arriving or arriving mostly empty. Where is the aid going?

🔶 RED SEA-Houthis Front

▪️The Pentagon: Since the 11th of this month, we have destroyed 25 missile launch facilities and more than 20 missiles, drones and radars in Yemen.

▪️Due to the Houthi attacks in the Red Sea, the German shipping company Hapag Lloyd announced the launch of an overland corridor from the shores of the Persian Gulf in the UAE and Saudi Arabia to the Red Sea - bypasses the "Houthi problem" and also significantly shortens shipping time - truck shipping the containers across Saudi Arabia and loading them on ships in the northern Red Sea closer to the Suez Canal.

🔶 REGIONAL War

▪️Iraq: A wave of American attacks in southwestern Iraq and on the way to Qaim (against Iranian backed Shiite militias that have been attacking US bases). The area under attack is Jarp al-Nasr, an area that was taken over by the Iranian Revolutionary Guards (yes, Iran operating in Iraq). Iraqi Hezbollah battalions were also attacked. American planes carried out 5 airstrikes.

🔶 JUDEA-SAMARIA Front

▪️The village of Urif: our forces blew up the house of the terrorist who carried out the deadly shooting attack near the settlement of Eli on June 20 of last year.

#Israel #October 7 #Hamas Massacre #Iron Sword #Realtime Updates

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dogtoling · 4 months

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I feel like I worked on this for like six billion years. I'm fashionably late for Squidmas but it's still 2023 (for me) so WHATEVER! Here's a new squidmas image from the DeGigas household.

bonus:

bonus 2:

Whatever that thing is ^

#dodo art #dodo ocs #splatoon #finally. the squidmas 2023 art #i was unsure about whether i was going to actually finish this at all but decided to do lineless #boy am i glad i did lineless #forgot character tags so here i am #deep sea dead zone #sweet beak bakery #cyantide

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aestheticaxolotl · 6 months

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So Wings of Fire Religion... Part One???

-Skywings-

Skywings are probably the most spiritual tribe. They believe in the reincarnation of dragons of their tribes as long as their bodies are exposed in the proper environment, preferably, bodies are placed on cliff sides with tributes from the family and friends of the dead dragons, wrapped in light silk so their spirits do not grow too cold from the winds.

Sky dragons worship the sun, they see it as the giving and taking force of the world and tend to have masses worshiping the fire god of the sky with a designated priest dousing dragons in warm water heated by the sun god as a blessing. They call it the burning eye of Helios. Legend has it that a skywing flew so close to the sun that he became one with it, blessing the world with flamescales and ashscales as a sense of balance. While Flamesscales are usually executed, the families that keep the ashscale counterpart are treated as highly as royals for having a blessed child.

Skywings also have a marriage tradition where they take place on the highest mountains and are blessed by the sun and a priest. Usually, these weddings are held with close families and friends and are not made a spectacle.

-Seawings-

Seawings are not as spiritual as most tribes but tend to worship dolphins and the beast Leviathan of the deep trenches. Leviathan is their primary god and they often offer sacrifices of whales and other massive fish to appease the sea god. It is said that Seawing dragonets hatched in the deepest and darkest channels of the ocean are hatched with the protection of the sea god.

Seawings believe that in death their spirits travel the currents of the kingdom so their bodies are often left to drift in said currents so that the dead seawings can learn the currents even in death.

Seawing Marriages are a big deal to this group of goofballs that start with a feast and a shark hunt. This shark hunt is no regular thing because the bride and groom (or whatever pairing is getting married because we don't tolerate homophobia on THIS TUMBLR BLOG) are required to eat the hearts of the sharks. It is a tradition based on the fact that sharks are creatures of strength, if a couple eats the hearts of a pair of sharks swimming together, they are bound for life.

-Rainwings-

Rainwings worship the earth as a whole and not just parts of it. They worship the cycles between life and death and the process of the journey of the body.

Rainwings do not worship a god but rather the earth itself, they do not offer tribute to it but they synchronize their breathing with the plants in the environment during their suntimes. Rainwings also tend to zone out when they are in sync with the environment, their bodies have a natural reaction to this zone of being and their vocal cords will react to the sounds around them.

The Rainwings really respect the process of death. When one of their own dies, they move the body to the center of the rainforest or to the dragon's favorite spot and cover their body in a light layer of solid. The rainwings leave the body and often visit to plant flowers or bright fruits for the soli, believing that their body keeps the Rainforest alive

-Silkwings-

Silkwings worship butterflies. It is a cardinal sin to kill or capture a butterfly in the silk kingdom and those who do are usually punished. Silkwings believe that when they die, they reincarnate as the butterflies, different types of butterflies reflect how a dragon lived their life and the brighter the colors the more full the dragon's life had been. The silk dragons will often leave sweet waters and treats out for butterflies as a tribute to them and as worshiping respect.

Butterflies are also considered very good luck, with the story of the first silkwing living a joyous life and continuing to live her life as a small bug, a butterfly. Her name was Monarch, the first butterfly. When a silkwing dies, she is buried with a butterfly bush to attract luck after death. In hopes that the first Monarch will return to lead them to the afterlife

#wof #wings of fire #wings of fire headcanons #wings of fire religion #i really hope you like it #The attention the drugs got me makes me wanna do more stuff #maybe after the religion shit #I can do like #dragon alcohol types #But I gotta finishe this first #Wings of fire religion headcanon

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theresattrpgforthat · 1 year

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I'm looking for an RPG where you make a setting collaboratively as a group, ideally with a roleplaying element. I know of Dawn of Worlds, A Quiet Year and Microscope but I'm trying to cast a wider net?

Can you help me out?

THEME: Worldbuilding & Roleplaying

Hello friend! I’m first going to direct you to two other posts I’ve made in the past, one about Town Builders, and one about Map-Making! Not all of them focus as much on roleplay, but I love a number of those games dearly. That being said, there are plenty more world building games out there that I’d love to talk about, and these three certainly allow for a lot of roleplay!

Ech0, by Role Over Play Dead.

Peace. Kids playing in mech wreckage. A ghost.

One last journey across an ancient battleground to find a pilot's final resting place.

Ech0 is a game about three children and the ghost of a dead mech pilot, travelling through ruins of old battles, looking for the place where the pilot died. The group of you will craft a world shaped by the wreckage of wars past, with mech bodies embedded into a landscape, transformed into memorials, and (possibly) repurposed into something else. You’ll use these landmarks to illustrate a map and craft a history: do the children know what the war was about? Or has it been lost to history?

I think this is an excellent game for the beginning of a campaign, mech or otherwise. If it’s a mech campaign, it might be set in the far future, after the war that you’ve already fought, or it might be the introduction of a planet that’s enjoyed a few decades of peace before getting launched into yet another conflict. Perhaps the mechs embedded in the soil will be unearthed to fight again and those children you created for Ech0 grow into ambitious and desperate pilots. It’s up to you!

Orichalcum, by Justin Quirit.

To find our way home, we must sift through the ruins and our memories of the Empire. But in our remembering, we must not forget what we have created for ourselves.

Orichalcum is a tabletop roleplaying map game for 1-5 players. Players will lay out a map of the Empire that oppressed their ancestors and drowned in a deluge of its own making. By remembering what was left behind, they will draw a connection from the past to the present. Their people, the Exiles, have evolved past the Empire's ways, and these differences will become features on each player's map of their island home. Orichalcum is a game about drowning empires and imagining utopias.

In this game, players will use printed “tiles” to help determine the kinds of peoples they represent, and the ways they differ from the Empire that has fallen. Each player will draw five tiles and place three; after each player places three tiles, your characters will go home.

This is a beautiful game to describe a world after a ravenous Empire has finally met its end. I can see this acting as an epilogue after a campaign has watched the world end, or as an introduction to a world post-apocalypse, as different groups rise from the ruins. The pillars give the group inspiration and focus, and by the end of the game, you’ll have a number of different islands, each with unique cultures and peoples, to draw from for rich character backstories.

Lighthouse Keepers, by Chloe Sobel.

The sea was once a city. The sea is still a city: trenches stretch into the deep, dark and teeming with life, mirroring city-nights above.

In the world above the sea, there is a lighthouse. The lighthouse has always been there.

Lighthouse Keepers is a map-drawing game for 1-4 people about a lighthouse and the things that lurk outside it in the deep. You play a collective of lighthouse keepers living in an offshore lighthouse, a tower that stretches from its lantern high above the waves all the way down to the bottom of the sea in the hadal zone.

The game design is based on Avery Alder’s The Quiet Year and Carter Richmond’s Anomaly. Its themes are inspired primarily by Julia Armfield’s Our Wives Under The Sea and, by happy coincidence, it bears several thematic similarities to Robert Eggers' The Lighthouse.

This game has two versions; one with art and one without, in case players feel uncomfortable with some of the sea creatures depicted. This is a horror game - there is something in the water; nobody knows what it is, but everybody fears it. If you want to create a world where a lurking horror grows ever closer, this is absolutely the game for you.

Other games I’ve recommended in the past

Voyage, by Brendan McLeod.

Oldhome: Trip to Turtle City, by Takuma Okada.

#tabletop games #map-making #worldbuilding #indie ttrpgs #asks #game recommendations #dnd

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veryace-ficrecs · 8 months

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Danny phantom Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Ecto Upgrade Start by GothMoth - Rated G

Danny’s growing up and his bodies doing the typical adultifying things, but also doing some… not so typical adutlifying things.

Deep Sea Diver by Marsalias - Rated G

Tumblr prompt by dannyphantom-rework: Ghost zone is like the ocean, in the sense that the deeper you go into it, the scarier and darker it becomes.

Electricity by DarkNymfa - Rated G

Tucker huffed, disgruntled. “Yeah, uh huh. I’ll believe that when you stop having live electricity running down your arms.” “Technically,” Danny said, lips twitching into a smirk, “it’s dead electricity.”

when the kingdom comes calling by blueh - Rated T

The Observant hardly looks rattled at the threat. If anything, the thing seems even more determined to get Danny to go through with this absolute bullshit plan to make him, someone who is half human, king of the ghosts. “Follow me to the Infinite Realms for your coronation. You are under obligation to meet the council at Pariah’s Keep where you shall receive the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage. It is what the council wishes.” “No,” Danny snaps. “I have an English test next period with Mr. Lancer.” “This is no time for your silly human games—" Danny slams the locker in its eye. also known as: the Ghost Zone population assumes that Phantom took the crown with dignity. What they don’t know is fifteen year old Danny Fenton just wants to graduate high school, is constantly ready to throw hands with an army of eyeballs, and absolutely will not be crowned the Ghost King without a fight.

Drizzling by TakingOverMidnight3482 - Rated G

There was a peace to the rain, Danny had found. A sense of quiet, where no one attacked. No one ventured out to cause trouble. Where the Earth, for one second, was being healed and healing those around it.

Shift by Alexa_Piper - Rated T

It turns out that the views of Agents O and K are not held by the rest of the Guys in White… which they discover when they bring in a fourteen-year-old half-ghost kid for "painful experiments".

Smells Like Team Spirit by UnluckyAlis - Rated G

Some mascots are great at pumping up a crowd. As Casper High's mascot, Danny has only one job: strike fear into the hearts of their opponents. This is the story of how Danny becomes the famed Mascot of Fear.

Of Tweets and Twats by DarkNymfa - Rated T

Too Fine @BurgersKing @nasafan your parents don’t have a website for Fentonworks? | 🌟✨⭐ @nasafan have you met my parents? | Too Fine @BurgersKing fair point I will cease speaking

Stargazer by Mysterious_Prophetess - Rated G

Inspired by this tumblr post by floralflowerpower where Danny is a NASA astronaut, and famous too, but in order to join NASA he had to change his name to distance himself from his....less well regarded Parents and Sister. Years later, when his real name Fenton is pulled from its grave, Danny refuses to disavow his parents' line of work.

Ancient Alexandria: Not-So-Ancient Apparently by piece_of_pierce - Rated T

Danny has a new homework assignment. Specifically, he's supposed to theorize about the ectobiology of ghosts then make a presentation about it. Who needs to theorize, though? He has access to all the research in the Zone! Now, where can he actually access that research?

Bet on it by thatgirl_youknowtheone - Rated T

Danny's parents find out about Wes' theories, as Maddie and Walter talk it out in the principal's office, Danny and Wes are stuck in the hallway listening. "Your son might think it's just some funny joke, but I will not have anyone accusing my son of being that lying, manipulative, piece of ectoplasmic scum!" Danny sank lower in his chair, face tightening with every word. "You know they wouldn't say that stuff if they knew the truth." said Wes.

Make the Call by Library_of_Cronos - Rated T

The five times CPS was almost called on the Fentons and the one time Jazz called them herself.

Poor Life Choice by princessFanona - Rated G

A situation where Danny dies (not the portal accident) in a public setting and everyone freaks the heck out, but then he gets up as if nothing happened. (PR339) Danny happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time...or maybe not. Depends on how you look at it.

Ringback by kelpeigh (chitaqua) - Not Rated

“I think we’re on hold.” a soft voice hedges. Four hoods twist as the group looks to their youngest member. She continues, “This is just a ringback tone. Don’t you have one, Steph— uh, Shadowlux?” “You’re right.” The cloaked man next to her answers. “We’re totally on hold.” - A summoning au where Danny can only be summoned as Phantom, and anyone who tries when he's human has to wait until he happens to go ghost again.

Is This Just A Thing that Girls Do? by newdog14 - Rated T

“Yeah, and about that,” The Ghost King said, pinching the bridge of nose in frustration. “You found an archaic book of magic with a summoning spell for the Ghost King, who you believed to be evil, and then you used said spell to bring me here and bind me to answer questions, and you did this so you could ask me about a middle schooler’s crush?” “We also want to know what the secret of life is,” Cori said, crossing her arms defensively. “42,” he answered without hesitation.

Growing Pains by ayjayar - Rated G

Jazz has had the world's nastiest case of pink eye. The doctor is starting to suspect it's not actually pink eye. When Danny notices her eyes glowing, the Fentons seek second opinions from unlikely sources.

after school summons by blueh - Rated T

"So this is the fabled Ghost King," the man says like he expected better. Danny feels he should almost be offended if it isn't for the tiny detail that these cultists—who summoned him by using salt and goat bones—assume he is the ghost king. "…Did you seriously confuse me with Pariah Dark?" The man pauses. "Pariah Dark?" "Yes! He's like fifteen feet tall, has a huge sword, is a pain in the ass, and has, like, an entire ghost army. I have, I dunno, pre-calc homework in my bag. We are not the same." Or: Danny accidentally gets summoned. He’s not happy about it.

The Tattooed Defeat by Sergeant_Tears - Rated T

Ghosts get tattoos whenever they defeat a new enemy. Danny surprisingly never got these. Until he did... but not as Phantom.

inviso-doodles by attu - Rated T

What are friends for if not making you internet famous?

Animals by Marsalias - Rated T

Most humans of Amity Park did not appreciate what Danny did for them. (The animals were another story.)

Side Effects by redrobin1989 - Rated T

Side effects of activating a ghost portal to another dimension while inside include: fatigue, nausea, vomiting, headache, tremors, hypothermia, loss of visibility and tangibility and ectoplasmic glowing. If left untreated, these symptoms may lead to death or permanent physiologic changes.

Proof of Identity by Clari_net23 - Rated G

Detective Harris just wants to find out who the ghost boy is.

"'Doctor, I'm a ghost. There's a reason I'm doing this in a morgue and not a regular clinic.'"

'Touche.'

Detective Harris felt the beginnings of a headache in her temple. All she wanted from this was his identity. She didn’t think it would be this much of a challenge when the chief brought up this assignment. "

#danny phantom fic recs #danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #veryace recs #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3

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y-rhywbeth2 · 6 days

Note

Is it ever revealed what Gortash got out of trading Karlach to Zariel? I’d assume it would be related to some sort of mechanical know-how he’s an artificer in my heart even if the game doesn’t really have that class option but also. My hc is that it’s directly related to him becoming Bane’s Chosen. The gods were picking their Chosen around this time, I think, and it would make sense that betraying a subordinate that trusts you with their life to a miserable existence of serving a tyrannical hell queen, in exchange for ambition serving power, would make Bane very happy. I could just be behind on my game lore, but I’m less familiar with how Gortash came around to Bane worship than I am with Durge/Orin (though those are rather obvious) and Ketheric.

Now that I’m typing this, I’m also confused about the mindflayer colony underneath Moonrise. How long has it been there? Did the Dead Three Chosen put it there intentionally, or was it just there and the Dead Three had a lightbulb moment? “Fellas, I know we’ve been plotting this world domination thing, and it’s just occurred to me that Shar has a guy whose house is overrun with Mindflayers. Should I dig him up?” -Myrkul in the groupchat

The fact that the Emperor/Balduran went there and was turned into a mindflayer really really muddies the timeline for me. Honestly, making the Emperor Balduran fucks up a lot of things, lore wise.

I'm pretty sure it's said somewhere that he got the schematics for the infernal engines, such as those in her chest, which he used to build the Steel Watchers. Not sure if that's in my head though. I don't think the game ever mentioned how Gortash converted to Bane, and information we might find on it isn't exactly reliable because the man's autobiographical notes are out of sync with other in-game information we find on the chosen, so anything he says should be taken with a grain of salt as half-truths and self-PR.

I don't think the colony has been directly under Moonrise for very long, though if you overlaid a map of Faerûn and the Lowerdark they might be in similar spots geographically (10-ish miles away, vertically).

Illithid primarily live in the Lowerdark; 10+ miles beneath the earth in conditions that are utterly inhospitable to most forms of life, including humanoids, half-way into the Shadowfell, in a lot of places, and would largely traumatise you beyond functioning if it didn't kill you. Small outposts occur in the Middledark, 3-10 miles down. You can find illithid in the Upperdark (extending from between the surface and the Middledark), but this region is mostly a trading zone, not really inhabited by the Underdark races in a settlement capacity. It's also the layer from which slave-taking raids are sent, which might account for Balduran. Maybe.

So the illithid colony moving into the Upperdark and building a colony directly under Moonrise is kinda weird. I guess there are some really good sea caves under that building because illithids hate the surface and the sun so much.

In a divine capacity, illithid are Ilsensine's domain, the Dead Three don't have a lot of sway here (and mind flayers don't often go in for religion - especially not for the gods of thralls.) If any of the Three had the idea to use mind flayers though, I'd expect it to be Bane (they're closest to his domain in theme).

I have genuinely no idea what's happening here, I don't think this much thought went into it. I would assume it works like this: Gortash and Durge eventually settled on "mind flayers" during the world domination brainstorming sessions (before or after acquiring the Crown of Karsus, who can say... Who even told them that existed, again? Was it mentioned in some texts somewhere? Were the Dead Three aware of it (Bhaal being Netherse, Bane having worked there)) And then they'd have to go deep beneath the earth - possibly all the way into the Lowerdark - somehow not die to a million hazards, get into an illithid city without dying or being enslaved, and then convince an Elder Brain to join the plan. Then the colony starts climbing upwards, as per the plan, and migrates to the Upperdark under Moonrise. Being situated over the sea, sea caves down there might provide a suitable environment for them (they need damn, dark, briny caves).

"Suprirse! Balduran is your mind flayer "ally"!" does feel a bit thrown in.

I'm still a bit surprised by the decision to make Balduran an elf, which could be canon to be fair, I've never seen anything on the guy, but I have always pictured him as human considering his namesake city is very much a human Tethyrian/Chondathan settlement. The elves were more populous back then, but the settlement was founded by humans and they very much do dominate and have for a while.

#asks #long post

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talonabraxas · 10 months

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THE ALTAR OF ARTEMIS by: Aleister Crowley (1875-1947)

HERE, in the coppice, oak and pine

And mystic yew and elm are found,

Sweeping the skies, that grew divine

With the dark wind's despairing sound,

The wind that roars from the profound,

And smites the mountain-tops, and calls

Mute spirits to black festivals,

And feasts in valleys iron-bound,

Desolate crags, and barren ground;--

There in the strong storm-shaken grove

Swings the pale censer-fire for love.

The foursquare altar, roughly hewn,

And overlaid with beaten gold,

Stands in the gloom; the stealthy tune

Of singing maidens overbold

Desires mad mysteries untold,

With strange eyes kindling, as the fleet

Implacable untiring feet

Weave mystic figures manifold

That draw down angels to behold

The moving music, and the fire

Of their intolerable desire.

For, maddening to fiercer thought,

The fiery limbs requicken, wheel

In formless furies, subtly wrought

Of swifter melodies than steel

That flashes in the fight: the peal

Of amorous laughters choking sense,

And madness kissing violence,

Ring like dead horsemen; bodies reel

Drunken with motion; spirits feel

The strange constraint of gods that clip

From Heaven to mingle lip and lip.

The gods descend to dance; the noise

Of hungry kissings, as a swoon,

Faints for excess of its own joys,

And mystic beams assail the moon,

With flames of their infernal noon;

While the smooth incense, without breath,

Spreads like some scented flower of death,

Over the grove; the lover's boon

Of sleep shall steal upon them soon,

And lovers' lips, from lips withdrawn,

Seek dimmer bosoms till the dawn.

Yet on the central altar lies

The sacrament of kneaded bread,

With blood made one, the sacrifice

To those, the living, who are dead--

Strange gods and goddesses, that shed

Monstrous desires of secret things

Upon their worshippers, from wings

One lucent web of light, from head

One labyrinthine passion-fed

Palace of love, from breathing rife

With secrets of forbidden life.

But not the sunlight, nor the stars,

Nor any light but theirs alone,

Nor iron masteries of Mars,

Nor Saturn's misconceiving zone,

Nor any planet's may be shown,

Within the circle of the grove,

Where burn the sanctities of love:

Nor may the foot of man be known,

Nor evil eyes of mothers thrown

On maidens that desire the kiss

Only of maiden Artemis.

But horned and huntress from the skies,

She bends her lips upon the breeze,

And pure and perfect in her eyes,

Burn magical virginity's

Sweet intermittent sorceries.

When the slow wind from her sweet word

In all their conchéd ears is heard.

And like the slumber of the seas,

There murmur through the holy trees

The kisses of the goddess keen,

And sighs and laughters caught between.

For, swooning at the fervid lips

Of Artemis, the maiden kisses

Sobs and the languid body slips

Down to enamelled wildernesses.

Fallen and loose the shaken tresses;

Fallen the sandal and girdling gold,

Fallen the music manifold

Of moving limbs and strange caresses,

And deadly passion that possesses

The magic ecstasy of these

Mad maidens, tender as blue seas.

Night spreads her yearning pinions,

The baffled day sinks blind to sleep;

The evening breeze outswoons the sun's

Dead kisses to the swooning deep.

Upsoars the moon; the flashing steep

Of Heaven is fragrant for her feet;

The perfume of the grove is sweet

As slumbering women furtive creep

To bosoms where small kisses weep,

And find in fervent dreams the kiss

Most memoried of Artemis.

Impenetrable pleasure dies

Beneath the madness of new dreams;

The slow sweet breath is turned to sighs

More musical than many streams

Under the moving silver beams,

Fretted with stars, thrice woven across.

White limbs in amorous slumber toss,

Like sleeping foam, whose silver gleams

On motionless dark seas; it seems

As if some gentle spirit stirred,

Their lazy brows with some swift word.

So, in the secret of the shrine,

Night keeps them nestled, so the gloom

Laps them in waves as smooth as wine,

As glowing as the fiery womb

Of some young tigress, dark as doom,

And swift as sunrise. Love's content

Builds its own monument,

And carves above its vaulted tomb

The Phoenix on her fiery plume,

To their own souls to testify

Their kisses' immortality.

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