#end of the centry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

In 2020, 44% of users from Denmark used Tumblr daily.

easternmind · 9 months

Text

Mercurius Pretty is a long forgotten life simulation game originally launched on the PC9801 in 94. The entirely redesigned and expanded Dreamcast edition, dubbed 'End of the Century', contained a 40 page booklet with designs from the many artists invited to reimagine it.

The game revolves around the raising of an homunculus/fairy inside a glass vat at a laboratory by a disciple of master alchemist Paracelsus. Other than the simulation elements of the original, all-new characters and adventure components were added for the Dreamcast edition.

Although the similarities with Princess Maker are readily evident, the game was actually produced by Tohiro Tsuchiya, an ex-COMPAC staff member previously involved in the creation of the genre's less celebrated precursor, the superb PC98/X6800 Production Manager from 1989.

While Mercurius Pretty and its artwork mean very little to me, I found it to be a cut above your average bishōjo. Certain that it would interest some of my followers, I took the liberty of scanning it and sharing it at the Internet Archive, with full artist credits listed per page: https://shorturl.at/eiSTU

#mercurius pretty #end of the centry #dreamcast #artwork #artbook #scans #hirofumi nakamura #various artists #nec #longshot #headroom #compac #videogame #bishojo #life simulator

40 notes · View notes

high-king-of-ghosts · 2 years

Text

Wailing Song!AU

Ghost King!Danny who regularly needs to purge all the excess energy he gets from the Realms. It doesn't hurt him if he doesn't, it just makes him even more restless then usual and amps up his already haywire ADHD.

Now there's plenty of ways to expel this engery: fights, practicing powers, longer patrols, or even taking Cujo for a walk. How does Danny get the job done? He sings.

He learned, through one VERY intense solo rock out session in the Keep, that if he trys (or is emotional) he can put the power of his Wail into his voice and words. When he focuses it like that it doesn't just outright drain him of everything he's got, but still is a massive release of energy and his powers. So when he gets that tell tale zing of too much energy though his blood or even if he just needs to release pent up emotions he goes to a deserted part of the Zone and just....sings.

It's become a type of comfort for him at this point, something he can do if he's feeling overwhelmed or that the world and the weight he carries is just TOO MUCH and he's needs to /get away get away get away/. Or even when beings around humans and ghosts alike just gets hard sometimes because he'll never truly get to be either one ever again, forever stuck in the barrier between Life and Death. Never Fading and never Dying, just adrift in the space between.

He always goes someplace desolate in the Zone, maybe a random uninhabited island or even just drifting along with the tug of some imaginary current with the wide galaxy of greens/purples/blues undulating around him as he sings. The Zone itself is what nudges Danny in the directions it needs healing the most, takes him to quiet areas where he can sing and heal all the damage from centrys of neglect under Pariah's reign and absence. He doesn't like the idea of people hearing him sing, doesn't even know if he's any good, just knows that it's one of the few things he can just...fully ENJOY with no strings attached. If it also helps him release anergy and heals the Zone along the way? Even better.

Little does the King know that his haunting voice echos throughout the Realms each time he sings. His Wail carrying it away to curl around the nearby ghosts as a healing caress, taking away pain and healing the area around it with the new energy. The genre is ever changing but the effect will always be the same, because even when if the lyrics he sings just end up being screams of anger, sadness, and regret it brings peace to the Realm.

The ghosts all know of The One Who Sings, the Siren of The Realms, The Healing King, or better know by all as The Guardian. They know yet never confront him, it's something the know deep in their core that they shouldn't mess with. A warning from the Realms to leave its King to heal, both the Zone and himself in the small moments of solitude he can claw out for himself.

#TheOneWhoSings #SirenOfTheRealms #Siren!Danny #WailingSong!AU

#danny phantom #Wailing Song!AU #dp au #dp headcanons #ghost king danny #no idea where this came from #you can pry this headcanon from my cold dead hands

1K notes · View notes

cits-kirby-brainrot · 5 months

Note

So what's the deal with galactic nova in your point of view?

(Love your art btw!!)

Galactic Nova Headcanons:

- As a clockwork star, Galactic Nova was created by the Ancients, during a time of peace between both the Physicists and the Mages. It is one in many stars constructed, and are one of the few that saw completion.

- Nova has no soul. It is not a person, but a machine given the vaugest semblance of life. It is unable to have any emotions of its own, physical or emotional, and it's only purpose is to grant wishes to the people that sought it out.

- Galactic Nova is much more magical then it is mechanical. Despite its metallic exterior and the cogs and screws in its interior, the star is run by an ever replenishing source of magic, which keeps it powered on ever after centries. It very well could exist far past the end of time itself.

- Each clockwork star is tied to its one set of keys, which it directly tied to the "life" of the stars. This is why, even when Kirby destroyed Nova when he defeated Marx, can still be summoned ever after being seemingly annihilated. Unless those keys are destroyed, the Nova will continue to exist and can be resummoned as if nothing had happened.

- When Galactic Nova was first created, it sole purpose was to aid in the imprisonment of Galacta Knight. The Ancients were growing increasingly paranoid of the warriors boundless power and needed to contain it as soon as possible. The plan was to wish for Galactic Nova to seal away Galacta Knight and then appointed itself as the then imprisoned hero's warden, to ensure that no one could ever break that seal. Ever.

- Without a soul, however, Nova's vow to the Ancient held little meaning, as it had no sense of obligation. It follows the the orders, still, when ever Galacta Knight is summoned to fight. The most it does is lift the imprisonment spell off temporarily, and then fullfills the wish once more by dragging Galacta Knight back into their prison. Even then, the spell can be broken if the right wish is made.

#kirby series #galactic nova #headcanons #i dont have a lot of headcanons about Nova but I think they are ve intresting as a plot device #also all of them are souless #except star dream but thats because it absorbed haltman's soul #having no soul has its pros and cons #i think #my stuff #I put way too much work into the insert photo #gonna submit it as an art project so it has more use out of it lol #galacta knight #answered asks

69 notes · View notes

nihilnovisubsole · 30 days

Text

phew! finally a weekend where i can set aside enough time to type up The Promised Endwalker Stream-of-Consciousness Post. i finished the base story... a month ago? but work has been busy, and i think tumblr benefits from me being quiet sometimes. anyway, what a ride. when you've been building up to the end of your arc for a decade, you want to hit it like an earthquake, and that's exactly what they did.

i think people love endwalker because it fires on all cylinders. it returns - in both story and vision - to the eorzea we love, and the dev team gets to show off everything they've learned. the dungeons and boss fights are dynamic and imaginative and colorful and bring the game's epic sense of scope to bear. the story callbacks are juicy. the music is orchestral again. we're back home, and we're saving the galaxy. what's better than this?

i love that we go to garlemald. i don't - i mean, you know, i don't like garlemald. i shouldn't have to qualify that. but it's hugely narratively satisfying to see the face of the enemy we've been fighting since the first few hours of ARR. you don't think about them when you're beating them up in castrum centri or ala mhigo. they're star wars bad guys. then you meet them on their own turf. you observe firsthand how they starve and cannibalize their own people to feed their obsession with state power and military strength. the wintry environment makes it seem all the more barren and desperate. my favorite part by far. i wish we'd spent more time there.

actually, on that note:

there is an argument that endwalker should've been two expacs. i've heard similar about stormblood - ala mhigo should've been the whole thing, and doma should've been either patch content or an expac of its own. the prevailing theory is that, after ARR, the devs are afraid of letting arcs run long. i can't speak to that, but i wouldn't have minded, that's for sure!

i won't pretend not to be biased. i've noted in many xiv posts that it hurries through its political plots to get to the magic stuff. i felt more conscious of it in heavensward and especially in stormblood. i made peace with it in endwalker. with dessert this good, who am i to complain? i can do small character drama on my own time. for now, the game wants royce to be a big damn shonen hero, and that can be fun, too.

speaking of characters, urianger and estinien have grown on me. this is the arc where, for me at least, the scions have congealed. they're all good, but with any large cast and custom player character, you tend to form the meatiest bonds with a few specific ones. i think royce appreciates urianger's cooler, more mature head. they're both so formal. he realizes she's someone he can confide in. i think she sees estinien as a gifted, but hotheaded whelp, which i find very funny. patience, child. stop sulking. do your breathing drills.

i love thancred's MGS sequence and in from the cold too. they're stressful, but i love that the team tried, you know what i mean? the fact that you can fight enemies in a pinch makes those duties way more bearable than some other games that experiment with stealth.

in from the cold as a whole, honestly. If You Know, You Know

all right, i can't avoid referencing spoilers anymore, sorry. there's a sense of classical tragedy to the whole elpis sequence. it's like watching macbeth or hamlet. you know how it's going to end, and you know you're powerless to stop it, but if they'd just made that different choice! but we had to leave eden. the warrior of light had to end up where they are to finish what elpis started. i don't do fate/destiny plots, but this? i'll take it.

i also knew what would happen going into ultima thule and still came away from it moved. it's strong writing. that's all there is to it. sure, the visuals are haunting, but the dialogue has to sell a gauntlet of difficult character moments, and it pulls it off. on the design side, there's some interesting intentional friction that forces you to linger in the zone and sit with its sense of despair. that part where you have to search the empty park for signs of life? oof

with the majority of the MSQ under my belt, i started sniffing around for what else there is to do ingame. i tried ninja. did terribly. i tried sage. did terribly too, but at least that gave me access to the healer role quests, which, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). the nier raids are gorgeous. i even did the controversial werlyt quests, and terncliff is so cute. i kind of wish we could have another story there!

what's next? i dunno! right now i'm burning through the hildibrand quests before i continue on with endwalker's patch story. the field operation stuff seems interesting to do after the MSQ, in a "hey, you saved the world, but we have more missions for you" way. i've also contracted Triple Triad Collector Disease, so that'll keep me busy for a long time.

all right. one last thing. Real Gamer Moments: i was in a mount-farming party recently, and i said that i sort of collected mounts, but only used the ishgardian chocobo. it's a roleplay thing - it's the chocobo royce took when she ran away from ishgard. one of the party members said "haurchefant would be proud of you." AUGH

#ffxiv #long post

25 notes · View notes

rjhpandapaws · 6 months

Note

If no one’s said 1 for BotW or ToTK yet I’ll be surprised-

For all of Revali's near chiding encouragement as Link worked his way through Medoh there is silence between them after the blight has been scourged from it. He expects Revali to have something to say, some kind of remark, anything. But he looked at Link with such a fond sadness, and it hurts. So he speaks first.

"Its been a hundred years, don't you have anything to say?" He doesnt mean for it to come out as desperate as it does, but after everything they had, everything they went through what he wants from Revali is words. He doesnt care how sharp they are, he just wants something other than sadness in those eyes, "Insults? The rare compliment? Something?"

The phantom of Revali hesitates and then snaps, "You weren't there! You said - you said you would always come if i needed you, and you didnt! You left me to die alone! Link you promised me... and then you broke it. I had to wait a century to see you again, and, you're so different now..."

Link had expected anger, not genuine anger, but the theatrical sort that Revali always hid behind because that was always easier than speaking his mind. But this was real.

Link looks down at his hands for a moment, trying to flex the cold out of his finger tips. "I... I was dead too. Im sorry i couldnt be here, there was no where else i wanted to be in that moment, but here with you and Medoh. But I was bleeding out in a field. I would have come to you first, but i couldnt remember- "

Revali hushes him, a gentle chitter from his beak that he often did when Link was getting hysterical, "You're here now, you came back. I had a centry to stew over this, and... i didnt think i would see you again." He smiles and reaches to caress Link's cheek but his feathers pass through and they both hesitate, "Just promise me that after you rub Ganon's nose in this that you will come back, sooner than another century."

"This will be the first and last place I come to when this ends. I promise."

#revalink #death tw #revali #Link #botw

23 notes · View notes

nanamivnemesis · 11 days

Text

For those of you who have read anything about journey to the west I would like to inform you that i(someone whose never heard of this book before) listened to my friends argue over a plot in the book that was referred to as the “the mpreg fantasy water”.

This book written in 16th china ( i think) had a whole ass plot where as I can explain the lesbian holy land of women and women only had magic river with pregnancy water because fuck men. Guy in this book took a dainty lol sip then oh wtf he was WITH CHILD but couldn’t have the damn thing and had to have a 16th centry abortion?

I watched as the people I have called my friends for over a year fell apart argueing on if the guy really was with child meanwhile I was violently whiplashed out of my relaxation hearing @vexbirdy yell “mpreg fantasy water”. This eventually devolved into us all VIOLENTLY debating on the technicalities of 16th centry mpreg fanfic wack a doodle shit infront of the entire advisory class. The teacher? Horrified. Nobody wanted to be associated with us in that moment.

Like things were HEATED. I was busy laughing a grave of my tears listening to this bullshit. Our school doesn’t have a debate club for a very good reason.

I procede to go to my moms after school, traumatized her laughing my ass off telling her about said debate, called @clodoveah to tell her about what happened which ended up with us LOSING. OUR. SHIT. We started theorizing about why the fuck anyone (sane or not) would make this apart of a plot of a “praised literature masterpiece” we came up with 2 theories:

- the author was secretly gay af and was weirdly into mpreg and shit and that this was the first 16th centry mpreg book?

-feminist/lover of the lesbians

Also we debated for 20 minutes on how a 16th centry abortion would work and how mpreg would just work in general. My poor mother could hear from the other room. Please keep in mind i have no context about the actual book, and i don’t want to I think summarizing it up like that is good enough for me.

Anyway, sorry for traumatizing you, thank you for coming to my MpregTalk, stay weird enough that nobody wants to associate with you B)

#mpreg fantasy water #nanamiknowsnothing #text post #story time #what the fuck #tumblr funny #text #funny shit #i laughed so hard #no context #so help me #lmfao #journey to the west #lmk #lego monkie kid

12 notes · View notes

arthistoryanimalia · 1 year

Text

For #Feathersday: Some selections from the Kingfisher Headdresses from China exhibition at Art Institute of Chicago showcasing tian-tsui, the traditional Chinese fine art of using the highly prized iridescent blue feathers of regional Kingfisher species (Alcedinidae).

Lots more pieces (including smaller hairpins & earrings) on display at the exhibition, open through May 2023.

It is also important to note that the demand for feathers for tian-tsui nearly drove kingfishers to extinction in China in the early 20th centry, with the last feather factory closing in 1933. But there are now some contemporary artists reviving the craft who make a point of using ethically sourced feathers (collected from molt etc).

1 Cap (清朝点翠头饰） China, Qing dynasty (1644-1912), 18th-19th century Gold wire, kingfisher feathers, amber, coral, jadeite, ivory, glass, silk Exceptional workmanship and the brilliant color of the kingfisher feathers make this an outstanding example of a woman's headdress. At the center, a phoenix with a peacock-like tail is flanked by a pair of dragons. Stacked above the phoenix are a large bat studded with a jadeite gem and another executed in fine filigree. Gourds, symbolizing the wish for multiple offspring, appear on the sides and suggest that this cap may have been worn by a young woman.

2 Headdress (清朝点翠头饰） China, Qing dynasty (1644-1912), 19th century Silk-covered lattice, kingfisher feathers, gilt bronze, jadeite, coral, amethyst, rose quartz, and carnelian The central roundel on this headdress features a butterfly with jadeite wings and a coral body while those on either side contain rose-quartz flowers and narrow-waisted bottle gourds, symbols of fertility. Below the butterfly, two bat-like creatures with long antennae and quartz bodies are flanked by gourds. Jade-petal flowers and other plant motifs fill the top register.

3 Headdress (清朝点翠头饰） China, Qing dynasty (1644-1912), 19th century Kingfisher feathers, gilt bronze, pearls, garnets. rose quartz, jadeite, and glass, applied to a silk-wrapped wickerwork trellis The numerous stylized creatures that adorn this headdress are bats. They represent a motif favored in Chinese art because the Chinese word for "bat" (fu) sounds similar to that for good fortune. The wings of the large bats are fashioned with seed pearls, and red agate cameos indicate the eyes and bodies of the smaller ones. Their long antennae end in pearls, which would quiver with the slightest movement when the headdress was worn. The strings of pearls hanging from the lower rim form a veil.

4 Tiara (清朝点翠头饰) China, Qing dynasty (1644-1912), 19th century Kingfisher feathers on silver gilt, jadeite, carnelian, coral, and ivory In Chinese culture dragons are powerful but benevolent creatures, and the ones that decorate the top of this tiara chase a central flaming pearl- a combination that probably expresses the hopes for a happy marriage. Around the perimeter, stylized characters for longevity (show) and small figures of immortals symbolize a further wish for long life. On the inner rim, the eight phoenixes facing downward are also talismans for good fortune.

5 Tiara (清朝点翠头饰) China, Qing dynasty (1644-1912), 19th century Kingfisher feathers on gold and gilt bronze, agate, and lapis lazuli At the top of this tiara, a pair of dragons chase a flaming pearl, a motif expressing hopes for a happy marriage. Below them a pavilion probably represents a paradise of immortals, and still farther down are two goldfish, symbolizing offspring and good fortune. The bottom is composed of a row of birds facing downwards, each holding in its beak a string of pearls suspending L-shaped musical chimes. The Chinese word for chime, qing, is similar to that for celebration.

6 Opera Costume Headdress (民国点翠头饰） China, first half of 20th century Kingfisher feathers, gilt bronze, faux pearls, and glass This headdress teems with symbols of good fortune. The design centers on a large tree peony and below it, a pair of guardian lions flank a flaming pearl. The next row down features red-headed phoenixes and a dragon. A pair of leaping fish--symbolizing a successful career and abundant offspring- appear above the peony. At the top is a pavilion, perhaps representing a paradise of immortals. More details appear amidst the primary designs: bats and butterflies fluttering their wings and Chinese characters with meanings such as "wealth," "longevity," "nobility," and "glory," collectively imbuing the headdress with an air of celebration.

7 Opera Costume Headdress (民国点翠头饰) China, Possibly Guangxi province, early 20th century Gilt bronze, kingfisher feathers, pearls, coral, silk thread, and glass Together with phoenixes, mandarin ducks, and bats, four large clamshells decorate this headdress. Each clamshell contains a pearl that is visible only from the side or the top. Contemporary audiences would likely have noticed many pearls dotting the headdress, though, and associated them with the clamshells' contents. In addition to wealth, the pearls probably symbolize a wish for a happy marriage and many offspring.

[all descriptions above from the gallery labels]

***

The only book I know about (in English) about tian-tsui feather art is this one:

Kingfisher Blue: Treasures of an Ancient Chinese Art by Beverley Jackson (2001)

PS - kingfisher feathers aren't really blue - and in fact no bird feathers are known to have "true blue" pigmentation! It's all structural color, just a trick of the light fooling our eyes. :) (Try taking a single "blue" feather and backlighting it sometime to see for yourself!)

Learn more here:

139 notes · View notes

transingthoseformers · 7 months

Note

I had an idea I don't know what to do with so I'll share it with you

Centries after earthspark Megatron is put in staisus or something but he's not there and Twitch ends up following down the same type of path Megatron did and when he gets back he asked her what happened and as a parallel to the one scene with idw Megs and Terminus she tells him that she lost her way

Okay that's sweet as fuck and so so so cool because it makes you ask the question: what went down to lead Twitch, one of the living symbols of new hope, down a similar path?

I'm starting to compare it to the original Megatronus Prime, the Fallen, of the thirteen too tbh

#maccadam #transformers #megatronus prime #tfe megatron #mtmte terminus #mtmte megatron #tfe twitch #shit has to absolutely go DOWN #warlord!twitch au

20 notes · View notes

bi-naesala · 4 months

Text

Golden Age

(Written as @seasaltmemories @nagamas gift. Happy Nagamas and happy holidays! I hope you enjoy the fic I've written for you!)

A tale of Micaiah and how she adjusts to her role as queen.

(Tags: Post-Canon, Reconstruction, The Hardships of Ruling, Micaiah-centri, cHopeful Ending, Minor Micaiah/Sothe, Past Character Death (it's Pelleas), Vignettes)

AO3 link

(Fic under the cut)

Micaiah had believed that defeating the Goddess was going to be the hardest part of her life, but it was a naïve thought on her part: the true hardest part was yet to come...

She was officially crowned queen, with a grand ceremony that made it hard for her to mask the uneasiness behind her smile, but she managed, because her people deserved to see her at her best, even when all she wanted was to close herself in her chambers and be alone until the heaviness in her heart would disappear.

Her saving grace, during the celebrations, was Rafiel, to whom Micaiah remained stuck as long as she could. He was a soothing presence for her, and of course she quite enjoyed Nailah’s company as well; they were the people she was more familiar with, out of the immense sea of nobles and royalty, so for the sake of her peace of mind, she didn’t let them leave her sight.

Unfortunately for her, this peace of mind wouldn’t last long, as queen Elincia approached her to engage in conversation.

"I remember when this happened to me," she mused. "All those eyes on me... It wasn't easy."

It was her attempt to offer Micaiah a shoulder, some support. Out of everyone present, excluding Rafiel and Nailah whom she already knew well, she was the one Micaiah felt more at ease with - she had a natural charm about her, and she could feel her pure nature - but... There was history between Daein and Crimea, a very recent history; as much as Micaiah saw in Elincia a kindred spirit, she still felt the weight of what Daein had done to her nation, even if she hadn't been the one reigning at the time.

She might've not been the one who ordered for Crimea to be invaded, but what she was forced to do during this last war had been horrible nonetheless, maybe even worse than what Ashnard had done.

She still forced herself to smile. "Thank you, queen Elincia. You're right, it's hard. Lots of pressure," she admitted. "I wasn't born for this..."

At that, Elincia's expression softened, sympathetic. "I understand. I wasn't born to rule as well."

That confession surprised Micaiah. To tell the truth, she wasn't well versed in the political scene of Tellius - her priorities, until recently, had been vastly different - so she rarely paid it any mind.

It wasn't just curiosity that was moving her: she dreaded the idea of having to speak with the other royals - too much history between them as well - and even though she knew that, eventually, she would've had to do it - she had to save appearances - she could’ve gained some time by talking with Elincia. "You weren't?"

She shook her head. "No, my fath-- King Ramon, had made a pact with my uncle, Lord Renning, to keep the succession line unchanged after my birth, in order to avoid conflict, but then, with Daein's invasion..."

Micaiah swallowed the lump in her throat. Yes, she knew how the story went afterwards; even though she didn't get any direct news about it, it was easy to guess what happened to Lord Renning.

"I'm so sorry for your uncle..." she began, but Elincia shook her head, smiling.

"You have nothing to apologize for: you weren’t the one who ordered the invasion," she began, her smile growing warmer as she proceeded. "Besides, in light of recent events, I'm just happy my uncle is fine."

"Oh, I thought..."

"So did I," Elincia interjects, "But as we were marching to the Tower of Guidance, I found out that he was actually alive."

Just for a moment, her gaze moved away from Micaiah; she followed it, and she saw a tall man in black ceremonial armor, with slicked dark green hair, and facial traits that bore resemblance to Elincia's. He was obviously Lord Renning, that much Micaiah could gather on her own. He looked imposing, almost intimidating, but there was something more behind the surface, something that Micaiah could feel, if she concentrated: he was tired, incredibly tired, but there was even more, screams and pain and fury, and...

She was forced to withdraw from his mind, unable to hold back a flinch as she did so. Just what did she...

"You're alright?" Elincia asked, worry evident on her face.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Micaiah lied, hoping that would reassure Elincia enough to let it go. She decided it would be best to go back to the previous subject. "I'm happy you managed to find your uncle again. Not everyone is so lucky."

"Yes, I'm aware."

How many people had lost their family, their loved ones, because of the war? How many had been directly Micaiah's fault? Her heart grew heavy just thinking about it.

"You've met Izuka, haven't you? He was the late king's advisor..."

A pang of guilt hit her at the mention of Pelleas, but Micaiah knew she couldn't dwell on it for too long. "Izuka? Yes. I've had the misfortune of meeting him."

She wouldn't usually be this judgmental, but he had been truly a despicable man; he deserved it.

"Then you'd know..." A pause. "No, this isn't the right time."

Given the subject, it wasn’t hard for Micaiah to guess what Elincia would want to talk about, though of course she didn’t know the specifics: obviously, that man must’ve done something to her, or better, to Lord Renning - that would explain what she saw when she looked into his mind.

Yet another evil she had to answer for. She wondered if she had been more firm and had convinced Pelleas to send him away earlier, would things have been better? No, she figured: not even that would’ve been enough to cancel what he had done, his wicked studies.

Elincia deserved answers, she knew it, and she was going to do everything in her power to make it so that she would’ve had them; Izuka must’ve left an archive behind, she just had to find it and she would’ve surely found what she needed. Of course, the mere thought of doing that sickened her, but she owed it to Elincia; if she wanted Daein to keep good relations with the other nations, then she’d have to do this.

In the end, it was all for the good of her people...

“Oh, my apologies, queen Micaiah, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood,” Elincia said, then. “This is a joyous occasion, after all.”

That was debatable, but Micaiah wasn’t in a position to contradict her: appearances, she had to save appearances. “It’s fine...”

In an unexpected move, Elincia offered her arm to her. “Come,” she said, a smile on her face. “I’ve already taken much of your time. Let’s rejoin with the others, yes?”

Micaiah didn’t hesitate in taking her arm, letting her guide their steps. It seemed that the much feared time of having to speak with the rest of the guests had arrived, but she could’ve found solace in the thought that she wasn’t alone.

The celebrations were about to run their course, or at least Micaiah hoped so - how she desired to be alone... - when she was approached by Sanaki. She had last seen her right after leaving the Tower, when she came forth with the claim that they were sisters, a claim that, to her surprise, made sense.

She had very conflicting feelings about her: on one hand, as head of Begnion she was going to answer for what her nation did to Daein after the end of the Mad King’s war, but on the other, what fault did she have? She had been victim of a larger conspiracy, taken away from the throne while the Senate ruled in her stead; still, Micaiah was going to be firm on her stance: Daein was going to be free from Begnion’s dominion, no matter what. She wasn’t going to put her people through what they had already suffered a second time.

She didn’t know how she was supposed to act around her, however: they were family, yes, but they’d known each other for such a short amount of time! It was weird for her to think of Sanaki as her sister anyway: for her, family was Sothe, the Dawn Brigade, not her. Still, she wouldn’t have been averse to getting to know her in a more “informal” setting, so to speak; they might’ve not been family then, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t have become one.

She studied Sanaki’s face; even without looking into her mind, she could’ve told that she was tense.

"Micaiah," she addressed her. "Could we speak? In private?"

She had put enough emphasis behind her words that Micaiah could immediately tell this was something important, something that was meant only for her ears.

“Yes, follow me.”

The castle’s garden wasn’t probably as big, or as well-kept, as the other royal palaces’ – it was hard to keep one in good shape when it was constantly cold - but it was still a good enough place for their conversation to keep place.

Micaiah wasn’t foolish enough to really believe they were going to be completely alone: she knew Sothe would’ve shadowed their steps, keeping watch in case anyone would want to try anything; it was all to keep her safe, she reminded herself, even though, sometimes, his overprotectiveness brought her much annoyance, but this time, it was useful: with him on their tails, Micaiah was sure nobody would’ve been eavesdropping.

“What was that you wanted to say, Empress?” It felt too weird to call her by her name; she even thought, at first, to call her “sister”, but that too didn’t feel natural. Maybe with time she would’ve become able to do so.

“I wanted to ask you something: I was convinced that you were going to reveal to your people that you were branded, but you didn’t. Why?”

There were many questions brewing inside Micaiah’s mind because of her words, but she figured that she could’ve waited for those. “I wanted to, but... I feared it was too soon.”

With Sanaki, they had come to the agreement to not reveal their familial bond, in order to avoid useless wars of succession in the future, but when it came to the rest of her heritage, to tell the truth, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to make it a public affair: on one hand, she was tired of hiding who she was, but on the other, she couldn’t help but to be afraid that the reveal would’ve had disastrous consequences.

She didn’t want any conflict to arise, not so soon after the previous one, but according to what king Deghinsea had revealed them, the branded persecution was based on lies. Didn’t they deserve peace as well? And what better way to incite change than to reveal that she was one of them? The people already loved her to a sometimes worrying degree, how much would the news have tarnished that love?

It was a lot to think about...

Sanaki nodded, deep in thought as well.

For a while, they just walked in complete, and tense, silence. It almost made Micaiah miss all the chaos and voices inside the halls - at least those were joyful, and not... whatever that was supposed to be.

Eventually, at least, Sanaki spoke again. “Of course, it is not my place to tell you what to do, but I don’t think you should hide it... though I understand your fear.”

Micaiah turned towards her, meeting her eyes; her gaze looked less tense than before - it reminded her of the fact that, despite being such an eminent political figure, she was just a child.

“After being the Apostle of the Goddess all this time, revealing that I intend to continue not as an Apostle, but as an Empress, has caused quite the stir.”

Oh, Micaiah had heard of that. She hadn’t been present for it, of course, having too much to do in Daein, but she had heard news of Sanaki’s resolution to the people of Begnion.

“Ashera had just frozen the world over, of course they would accept to get rid of her,” she mused. “I don’t know if our situations are comparable...”

Sanaki stopped, forcing Micaiah to stop with her. “You were the only one able to channel Yune, you defeated Ashera, everyone knows it. Does your being branded change those things? No, it doesn’t. They won’t think less of you because of it, not when you’re already a hero in their eyes.”

That only confirmed how much of a child she still was, if she thought that things were that simple. Still, there was something about the conviction in her words, her determined gaze, that was almost enough to change Micaiah’s mind; the world wasn’t as black and white, she knew that, but maybe Sanaki was right, maybe she should’ve...

“I’ll keep your words in consideration.”

It was a childish thought, but maybe, just this once, it wouldn’t have hurt to be a little childish, knowing that if she were to truly do it, she could’ve at least counted on some support, and that was more than she could’ve hoped for if she had tried to do it before.

It wasn’t all easy, unfortunately, especially in court, and especially when one particular person was present.

Almedha didn’t like Micaiah, she never did, but since she had been made queen she did everything in her power to antagonize her: she openly criticized her, not only in private but in front of the rest of the court - she was the only one to do so - but it did make Micaiah’s position unsteady nonetheless.

At first, she had figured that she would’ve come around, that it was just a transitory period, but at some point, it was time to confront her and get to the bottom of this - she couldn’t have afforded to keep such a constant thorn in her side.

She approached her in private, not wanting to make a public spectacle out of this - it would've felt disingenuous to do so, even though she might’ve deserved it.

She felt herself grow tenser and tenser as she approached her chambers, but she was determined to get through this, so she didn't stop and turn away; she was going to face it head on.

Despite her determination, she hesitated, hand hovering over the door, before gently knocking. “Lady Almedha? Are you in there?”

There was no verbal answer, only the faint sound of steps, until the door opened, revealing Almedha in a black nightgown; she looked different from her perfect appearance in court, more disheveled. She was obviously preparing for bed, not expecting any visit that late.

She looked Micaiah up and down, resentment visible on her face, before asking: “What do you want?”

The venom in her voice! Micaiah tried her best to ignore it, however, and pressed forward. “I need to speak with you... May I come in?”

Her question was met with silence, until Almedha - without saying anything yet - stepped aside, allowing her to enter; she was almost afraid as she did so, but she did her best not to show it - she didn't want to give her an advantage - taking her time - perhaps more than it was acceptable - to have a look around, figuring that she would’ve never gotten another chance like this. The room was somber, much more so than she had expected: everything was so dark, so oppressing, it made her struggle to breathe just by looks alone - the window was open, she could see it, so how come did the space feel so closed?

Almedha barely paid her any attention, as she let herself fall on the bed, sighing as she did so. Micaiah should've said something, but she was frozen on the spot, observing the other woman while being observed in return.

“Well? Aren't you going to do it?”

Almedha's words - she sounded almost bored - were enough to shake Micaiah from the trance-like state she had fallen into. She shook her head, trying to regain her composure. “Excuse me, what do you mean?”

She scoffed. “Please. You think I don't know why you're here? You're here to kill me too, aren't you?”

The way Micaiah did a double-take at that insinuation was very unfit for a queen. Did Almedha really think her able of something like that? What motive would she even have in the first place? “L-Lady Almedha, I just want to talk, I swear! Why would I even want to kill you?”

“The same reason you killed my son...” she replied, contempt overflowing in her voice. “You killed him to take the throne, and now you want to get rid of me as well, I can tell...”

What surprised Micaiah, in an already surprising situation, was that despite her words, she still looked bored. A quick look in her mind was enough to reveal that it wasn't boredom at all, but resignation; it was like she knew she couldn’t have escaped her fate.

That wasn't the first time Micaiah had felt in such a way, but she couldn't help but to feel pity towards her, a woman that had been, and was still, haunted by her mistakes.

She had lost everything, and in a way, Micaiah couldn't help but to feel in part responsible for it: after all, she had been the one who killed Pelleas, the only thing that was left to her.

She had lost her family, she had lost her lover, and Micaiah had taken her son as well.

It hadn't been easy, to sink the knife’s blade in his chest, watching the life leave his relived eyes - he was happy to die, while she was in despair - but she had done it nonetheless, for Pelleas himself, for Daein, because at the time it was their only choice.

If she had known that doing so would've been useless, she would've happily spared his life. There were still moments in which she lost herself in what-if scenarios where she had stood her ground more steadily, where she had been able to say no, where Pelleas was still be alive and kept ruling as king; no matter how much she wanted it, however, she couldn't have changed reality: what was done was done, and she had to live with that, so how dared Almedha even just imply that the reason she did was for the throne?

She wasn't one to be easily enraged, but those words had left her reeling.

She took a deep breath, knowing that giving into the rage she was feeling wasn’t going to help. This was supposed to be a productive conversation, after all; she wasn't going to lower herself to her level.

“Lady Almedha, I understand that you're in pain. I can't imagine how painful it must be for you, but the only reason I did it was because we thought it was the only way to put an end to the Blood Pact, not because I wanted the throne.”

“And how am I supposed to believe that?” Almedha retorted. “The way I see it, you and your... guard dog have stolen the throne from its legitimate heir.”

Micaiah let the comment about Sothe slide, even though she would've loved to say something about that - he was family, not a pet.

The thing was that she understood Almedha's point of view, but if only she could try to understand...

Her gift, sometimes, was a source of great frustration: it provided her insight into other people's minds, but it didn't allow the reverse. Almedha was moody, even childish sometimes, but Micaiah was sure that, if she were able to see the truth inside her mind, she would've understood that this entire plot was all in her head: neither she, nor Sothe, had ever desired to be in a position of command, they just wanted what was best for Daein, and if Daein needed them on the throne, they couldn't have refused their people.

She covered the distance between her and Almedha with long steps, settling right on her side. She even took her hands, holding them tightly.

“If I could take away my life to give Pelleas back to you, I would happily do it,” she said, looking at her straight in the eyes. “But alas, I cannot. What I can do, however, is to give Daein the guidance it desperately needs, for him as well.”

It was subtle, but Micaiah didn't fail to notice the way Almedha was trembling; it was then that she was hit by the fear that she was going to start crying: she didn't know how to act, if that were truly to happen.

Thankfully, she was held back by her pride - she would've sooner died than to have shown weakness in front of Micaiah - so she just asked: “Then, if you’re speaking the truth, what do you want?”

Right, she was there for a reason, not to comfort a mourning mother. How should she have gone about this, without it ending in tragedy? She wasn't sure, but she knew that she had to be as diplomatic as possible.

“Lady Almedha, I need your help.”

The surprise effect was immediate: Almedha's eyebrows shot up to the sky, and for a moment, she was locked in a state of bewilderment; she couldn't have believed her ears.

“A-And why would you need my help?”

“You don't like me, I know, and I'm not exactly fond of you either, I'll admit, but I recognize that you know more than I do about this... queenly business.” Almedha huffed a small chuckle at those words, but while Micaiah expected to receive words of mockery from her, she remained silent, which encouraged her to continue. “I wasn't born to rule, I wasn't educated for it. I'm doing all I can to do what's best for Daein, but I know nothing of politcs...”

She had been made very aware of this weakness of hers when meeting with other royals: she was clumsy, she didn't know the right words to say and when to say them. Even Elincia, who Micaiah knew hadn't been educated for it as well, knew what to do, what to say, in a way that Micaiah didn't.

When she had to take over during the war, things were, ironically, easier: she needed to give orders, make plans, but that was nothing compared to diplomacy, where one wrong word could destroy the peace they had fought so hard to obtain. Even in the small things, like table manners, she was lacking.

If anyone there would’ve known how to act in a proper, regal way, that was Almedha: she knew what to say, when to be softer or when to be harsher. Having her on her side would've been a great aid, as reluctant as Micaiah was to admit it. After all, Almedha must've cared for Daein, or else she would've returned to her family, right? Was the need to antagonize her so strong to force her to stay in a place she cared nothing about? She didn't think so. Pelleas had loved Daein, which meant that Almedha loved Daein as well - for his son.

Speaking of her, she still hadn't spoken since Micaiah had finished, which was satisfying - who knew she would've ever been capable of making her shut up? - and worrying at the same time.

Then, she sighed, looking at Micaiah with the softest gaze she had ever reserved her - only a slight improvement from the usual, but it was still something.

“... Fine, since you’ve asked, I will help you,” she said. “But! You’ll have to listen to me, alright? These things are tricky: sometimes you’ll have to make unpopular choices and you will have to wait a long time before being able to reap their benefits.”

Of course, Micaiah was prepared. She knew from the start that it was something that, sooner or later, was bound to happen, even though she didn’t think herself capable of doing something like that; Almedha, on the other hand, would’ve been able to advise her. She was going to be harsh, she was already able to tell, but that was exactly what she needed: someone who would tell her how things really were, instead of what they thought she wanted to hear.

The fact that she had been able to convince her to cooperate was still hard to believe, but a victory was a victory, and that day she had won.

Being queen, Micaiah had found out, led to a lonely existence. As much as she was constantly surrounded by people, in fact, she was finding it very hard even to just organize a small meeting with her family, a bit because she was extremely busy - Daein needed her constant attention - a bit because, after defeating the Goddess, everyone had taken their own paths: some had remained in Daein, but others had gone back to their home countries. Even out of those who were left, Micaiah only saw a few of them regularly, while the others had preferred to either return to their hometowns, or to wander and offer their help to whoever was in need.

She missed them, terribly, but alas there was very little she could’ve done about it, except hoping that, sooner or later, there would’ve been time for all of them to meet again.

The occasion came faster than she expected, and not because of her doing - it was all Sothe’s.

She simply woke up, one morning, with Sothe already up and about. When she demanded an explanation as to what he was planning, he said that he had planned a one-day vacation for her, which was absurd: a queen wasn’t supposed take vacations from running a country!

“There are no pressing matters today, and Almedha can handle the rest,” Sothe replied, when she tried to object. To tell the truth, she wouldn’t have minded spending at least one day - she couldn’t have hoped for more - without the entire weight of the nation of Daein on her shoulders, but what if something happened while she was gone? What then?

Anticipating her response, Sothe put both his hands on her shoulders, looking at her straight in the eyes. “Micaiah, you look worse and worse each day,” to which she slightly scoffed, but she couldn’t exactly deny it. “I know you love Daein, I do too, but keeping this up is killing you.”

He wasn’t wrong: in the hurry to catch up with the other royals, who had been doing this for longer than her, she had been attending meetings, signing treaties, and having audiences with the public, which she didn’t mind doing, really, but it was all pretty exhausting, so yes, maybe a very small vacation from those duties would’ve helped her - he did say that Almedha would’ve taken the reins from her just this time, and she had come to trust her not to ruin everything at the first occasion she would’ve got.

She sighed. “Alright, fine. What did you have in mind?”

At those words, a smile appeared on his face.

“You’ll see.”

They had to smuggle Micaiah out of Daein’s palace without being noticed, which meant getting dressed in commoners garb - a far cry from what had become Micaiah’s usual attires, but she felt way more comfortable like that - and sneak out, like they used to do while they were still considered criminals.

It was the most fun she had in a while; it made her go back in time, when things were surely harder, but also simpler; did it make her sound bad, if she had said she missed those times?

Sothe brought her to a tavern, one on the outskirts of the city. It wasn’t the kind of place a queen would’ve - or should’ve - frequented, but it was one Micaiah was familiar with, as she had often sought refuge in an establishment such as that one - it was all she could’ve afforded.

As they stepped inside, she was met by a sight that warmed her heart: the Dawn Brigade, her friends, her family, was there, waiting for her. Even Meg was present - she looked all grown-up - with the only absent being Volug; she supposed that had been too hard to arrange, though according to the news she had heard, she was going to meet him soon, as the preparations for Hatari’s nation to cross the border and establish itself in Tellius were ready, and of course the queen of Daein wasn’t going to be absent during such an occasion.

Seeing their happy faces would’ve been enough to make Micaiah cry, but she managed not to - she didn’t want to ruin the mood - but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t overjoyed to see them all, and to have them be reunited under the same roof.

“I...” she didn’t even know what to say. She turned to Sothe, who was looking at her with such an adoring expression that she almost looked away, but she couldn’t. “Thank you.”

Before she could’ve even noticed it, it was night; she had been so enthralled by everyone else’s stories that she hadn’t been paying attention to the passage of time.

She had learned that Laura was about to open an orphanage - one that would’ve surely gotten the blessing of the queen once the building process was finished - while Edward had become a hero to the common folk - songs written about him were soon to reach her ears. Leonardo was one of the few she saw more regularly, being the army’s chief, but she was still happy to meet him in less formal circumstances - there was no trace of tension on his face, nor in his heart.

Nolan looked a bit more rugged than usual, but that was because he had been traveling a lot, lately: unfortunately, banditry hadn’t been completely eradicated, even during such a moment of peace, and although the army had a vast reach, there were still places - small villages up in the mountains - that needed the help of people like him, who would stand and fight for the common folk. Of course, Micaiah - with Leonardo’s help - was working on making sure this wouldn’t be necessary again, but as she had found out, it took time - and lots of effort - before things actually changed for the better, so she was glad that she could’ve counted on the help of people like Nolan to cover the weak spots.

Aran spoke little, as it was usual for him - he never was fond of speaking more than it was needed - but from what he said, he was living life as usual, being his hometown’s lookout again. He was the one who had been changed the less, out of all of them, but Micaiah didn’t find it to be a negative thing: stability was a good thing. He blushed a little, when Edward made a comment about him and Laura, which made everyone burst into laughter, but he didn’t comment further, so Micaiah guessed they would all have to wait and see what happened next under that front.

After being contacted by Sothe, Meg had agreed to take some time off the farm to come visit, which Micaiah appreciated deeply: she knew how important her farm was to her. For now, she had returned to his father’s home, wanting to enjoy a simple life, but she intended to leave again in a year or two, to seek more adventure and maybe - if she could - find her other half; she still hadn’t given up on that! Micaiah was sure that she would’ve succeeded in her endeavors: she was great, surely someone was going to fall for her.

At first, it had been hard for Micaiah to let go of the façade she had carefully constructed for the court, but as the tension vanished, she managed to let herself go.

As queen, she was supposed to carry herself in a certain way: she couldn’t have acted like she would’ve normally done. There, however, she wasn’t the queen of Daein, she was just Micaiah.

She could’ve just been herself, and she did.

Sothe had been right. She had really been in need of a break.

After much time of careful consideration, and heated arguments with Sothe, who thought it was too risky, Micaiah had made a decision: the people deserved to know the truth about her heritage.

Branded people deserved to be treated by respect, and what better chance to pave the way than this? Sanaki’s words, the ones she pronounced during her coronation, had echoed in her mind: no matter the result, she had people - powerful and less powerful - on her side. She wasn’t going to be alone, which made her feel much better about the whole deal.

Sothe hadn’t been too hard to convince. Even if he was worried about her safety, he wasn’t an idiot, he could see how much keeping such an important part of herself hidden hurt her - she was used to it, after so many years, but she always felt there was something missing.

“Not everyone will be as accepting as you hope,” he said, but after a sigh, he continued. “But we’ll deal with them.”

He gently took Micaiah’s face between his hands, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “I love you.”

“And I you,” she replied, dragging him closer for an actual kiss. No matter what, she could’ve always counted on him.

The day had finally arrived: Micaiah was going to give a public speech to the masses, and reveal to the whole world that she was branded.

She had been waiting for this moment, but now that she was about to actually do it, she almost wished to go back in time and make a different decision. She was nervous, she couldn’t deny that, but she knew she had to push through.

As she was pacing back and forth behind the huge balcony where she was going to give her speech, she was soon joined by Sothe, who noticed immediately that there was something wrong.

“Having second thoughts?” he asked immediately, in fact, as he closed his arms around her, hoping it would’ve given her support.

She let herself melt into his hug. Was she really having second thoughts? No, she was just afraid, but she wasn’t going to run away, not anymore, so she shook her head. She reminded herself that she wasn’t alone, and that thought gave her courage.

Daein had a controversial past with other races - that was an understatement - but if nobody was ever going to apply themselves, things were never going to get better. Besides, she had faith in her people, in the fact that now more than ever they were ready to embrace change.

It was scary, she couldn’t deny that, but it was a step that she had to take, for a better future.

She took a deep breath, before pulling away from Sothe.

“Ready?” she asked, making him chuckle.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” he replied, only to then add, “But yes, I’m ready. You?”

“Me too,” she said, smiling, then she took Sothe’s hand, guiding him towards the balcony. “Let’s go.”

She didn’t know what was going to happen, but as she stepped into the warm light of the sun, all the nervousness and worry she was feeling mere moments ago completely vanished: for once, she had faith.

It had been years - how many, five already? - since Micaiah had given her speech, and things were still going well; Daein hadn’t fallen into irreparable chaos after finding out she was branded. Of course, there were those who didn’t take well to the news - it would’ve been naïve to think that nobody would’ve - but there hadn’t been any attempts on her life, which everyone had considered a victory.

After all the extraordinary feats she had accomplished, it had been easier to accept her heritage, and to accept that branded people in general weren’t to be hunted down, that they were people just like them, even though Micaiah found it bittersweet: had she been just an ordinary person, would everyone have been this eager in their acceptance? She doubted it, but... In the end, it didn’t matter. It all went well, and that was already a huge success, she shouldn’t have had diminished it, even if her suppositions were likely to be true.

It was still hard to believe that it was all true, but she couldn’t deny reality: under her rule, Daein was flourishing, and her attempts to change its mentality with cultural reforms were bearing fruit, even if not everyone was being as receptive as she had hoped, but she could’ve told that the people were trying.

It almost felt like a dream, and as much as Micaiah was always very careful when making considerations on her rule - things could’ve always gone wrong at any moment - she felt like, despite the initial hiccups, she wasn’t doing a bad job at all.

What really cemented this idea was when, during a public hearing, she was approached by a woman carrying a child in her arms.

It wasn’t the first time something similar had happened: many parents wished for her to bless their children, much to her confusion sometimes - it felt like something so outside her area of expertise - but she never refused them, not if even such a simple gesture would’ve been enough to give them hope; she had asked Sanaki once, during one of their meetings where they tried not to bring politics too much into the conversation and to act like sisters instead, if this had happened to her too, and she had replied with a roll of her eyes, saying that unfortunately it did - she obviously wasn’t fond of the practice, even though she too never said no to anyone.

As the woman got closer, and Micaiah took a peek inside her mind, she noticed that, among other emotions, she was afraid, though of what she couldn’t tell - she never looked in people’s souls more than what was needed for her to anticipate what she was going to have to deal with - though she hoped she wasn’t the cause of such feelings - it was still hard for her to consider that, for the average person, she was intimidating.

“My queen,” the woman began, taking a deep bow, to which Micaiah immediately responded with what she hoped was a calming tone.

“Please, there’s no need...” she said, getting up from her throne - she never liked how it felt - to reach the woman, helping her up herself. She smiled. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

The woman stood. It seemed that Micaiah had been successful in calming her nerves. “Oh, my queen, I only ask but a boon,” she replied, presenting her child to her. “Could you bless my daughter?”

So it was a blessing, Micaiah had been right. “Of course,” she agreed, lowering her gaze to the child and...

She couldn’t have believed her eyes.

The child was... She was branded; there was no mistaking the dark red mark on her cheek.

She was just like her.

“... Her father?” she couldn’t have helped but to ask, before she could’ve stopped herself - it was none of her business, after all - but she wanted to make sure this little family was safe.

The woman looked away, flustered - but the smile on her face didn’t disappear. “He’s in Gallia, but... He’s planning to come and live here, permanently.”

That news filled Micaiah with absolute joy: to think that a laguz would’ve deemed Daein safe enough for him to live in, to raise a family with a beorc woman and a branded child. It would’ve never happened years ago.

“I see... And the child’s name?”

This time, the woman outright blushed. Her voice was but a whisper, barely audible, but she was still able to hear what she said.

“... Micaiah.”

For a moment, she believed she must’ve heard wrong - there was simply no way... - but no, the child’s name was really the same as hers. It made her feel incredibly undeserving of such an honor - surely, there were better suited candidates - but also extremely proud of herself and her work: no matter the hardships, progress was really being made.

She looked down at the child, this child who had such a promising future in front of her, and she gave her blessing.

#nagamas #fe #fe10 #tellius #fire emblem #micaiah #sothe #elincia #sanaki #almedha #my fics #mine

8 notes · View notes

before-calamity · 7 months

Text

Castrum Novum

We've taken a look at it before (mispelling and all in original post), but now we're inside. Let's take a look at this. Castrum Centri, as it is in ARR, was this Garlean stronghold, and it looked impressive with all sorts of machines and a techno-look and feel.

In 1.0...as predicted from, well, everything else, not so much.

Inside the castrum...there's nothing. There's not even a ground. In ARR, you're walking on basically metal. Here, it's just ground. You have a wall, and some boxes, and a stray campfire for some reason. There were parts with ground showing, yes, but there was a metallic walkway running through parts of the castrum.

And no campfires! Well, that's not true. Outside the Castrum in ARR, there's a deserter Garlean you can play cards with who is sitting next to a campfire. But there are none in the grounds itself.

Here's a better look at the boxes. These are in ARR as well, and they look about the same. Sorry for the darkness of the pictures, by the time I was over there, it was night time. But that's all they were, only boxes. So even an extravagant set piece, like a Garlean stronghold, still amounted to something not ultra exciting. And this was an end game area, by the way. As far as I know, this is the only Garlean stronghold in 1.0, and the Garleans were the main baddie in 1.0. This is where you go to test your skills.

But other than combat, nonexistant in this private server, it's...nothing.

#final fantasy 14 1.0 #ff14 #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv 1.0 #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv 1.0 #final fantasy xiv #ff14 1.0 #mor dhona

16 notes · View notes

spotforme · 1 year

Text

Year 2000 centry ending party!

all i know is pat sang and kitty and julian were rolling around.

Must have been wild. will elaborate when i feel like it.

Fanny and cap found eachoter at the borders of button house, looking for fireworks.

#bbc ghosts #heather was out with friends so the house was quiet

24 notes · View notes

amazingdeadfish · 1 year

Text

Shadowpuppet x Good Omens AU rant

So basically every demon used to be a celestial being. Then a rebellion lead by Wukong happened, it failed, and then he and the celestial beings that worked with him were thrown out, turning into demons.

The Mayor is a celestial being (although he doesn't particularly act like one) and was reassigned to work on Earth. It may or may not be because he was so annoying and creepy that nobody liked him. You could say he was quite lonely until Macaque came along.

Macaque is like Crowley, he didn't really mean to fall. He just hung out with the wrong sort of people (cough cough- Wukong, DBK, the lion camel ridge trio- cough cough), and slauntered vaugly downwards.

They first meet by accident in China. Both had assignments at the same place and they just, bumped into each other. Ever since then they could never leave each other alone.

The Mayor didn't like Macaque at first, but as he did with the earth and it's inhabitants, he slowly began to love him.

Macaque sort of just saw the mayor one day and made it his duty to annoy the shit out of him. He ended up falling in love not too soon after that.

The Mayor, unlike Aziraphale in Good Omens, does not own a bookshop. Instead he's just an actual mayor of the city. He's been the mayor for centries, but nobody questions it. He makes sure they don't.

Macaque, unlike Crowley in Good Omens, has a motorbike instead of a Bentley. Yes he gave it a name, I'm just not sure what the name is yet.

Would MK as Adam work? Instead of Dog he could have the staff.

Then if we add Mei and Redson they could be The Them. But who could the forth kid be? It could be Baihe, but she could also be Warlock. Because, then Macaque and the Mayor would have to raise her. But depending on how season two of Good Omens goes, she could also be Muriel, which could be funny.

If MK is Adam then Pigsy and Tang have to be Mr and Mrs Young.

Following that logic, Wukong could be in the shoes of Satan. He wouldn't actually be evil or anything. He'd just sort of be like "here's the thing kid, ur supposed to destroy the world".

And then MK would be like "yeah you're cool and all but, u can't tell me what to do. Ur not really my dad. Pigsy is, sorry."

I already established in a previous post that LBD is Gabriel.

Jin and Yin are the Erics. It's too funny that I can't not to do that to them.

#shadowpuppet #shadowpuppetgoodomensau #lmk mayor #lmk macaque #me and my silly little brain with silly little thoughts

23 notes · View notes

sezja · 1 year

Text

Febuwhump Day 16: Semi-Conscious Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Original Character (Darcy) Triggers/Content warnings: n/a

They're alive.

Well, that doesn't seem right.

The signifer hovers on the edge of awareness, ears ringing, body screaming. There's a voice, they think; a woman's voice, calling - not one they recognize, and that's a bad sign. This deep in enemy territory, it's sure to be an Eorzean, and the signifer's in no fit state to fight them off.

Maybe she'll just think I'm dead, they think. Shouldn't be too hard to convince anyone they're dead, or as good as. If they stay here much longer, well, it won't even be pretending anymore, will it? Nothing's more convincingly dead than a properly dead corpse, and they're well on their way to it. They can't even open their eyes. Can't even roll over so it's easier to breathe. Everything hurts. Probably broke a bone or five.

Well, this is your fault, isn't it, they think, cross. You're the one who said you'd rather die than go back to Ilsabard! You're the one who said you'd rather die in the desert than spend another day in the snow! Idiot.

The woman's still calling. Can't make out the words. Muffled, muzzy. Probably dying.

Things'd been going so well, too! Well, alright, not well; not with three reprimands from their squad leader and two nights sentenced to digging new latrines as punishment for speaking out of turn and oversleeping... but well enough. They were, little by little, managing the dangerous trek from Castrum Centri in Mor Dhona to Castrum Oriens at the border of Gyr Abania: not an easy walk on any day, but they were transporting... something of vital importance, something the signifer themself wasn't nearly important enough to know about. A small package, easily transported by a small squadron of five Imperial soldiers, disguised as Eorzean adventurers.

Whatever the package was, it had the audacity to explode halfway through Eastern Thanalan.

Darcy, right, that's their name. Couldn't remember it for a second, what with their head pounding the way it was.

They wish the woman would be quiet and move on. There's nothing to see here, only five corpses, rotting in the sun. Darcy vaguely recalls there was a lichyard somewhere nearby. That's convenient! They can just pile all of their corpses together and throw dirt on them. Darcy just hopes they don't have to be at the bottom of the pile. Or under Reitus, who forever smelled of bad eggs and bloated ego.

Hear...

There she is again, at the fringes of their fading consciousness.

Feel...

There's a brightness, Darcy realizes; too bright to be the sun behind their eyelids. Pale and shimmering, dazzling. Supposedly, some Eorzeans believe one sees a long dark tunnel with a light at the end right before they die - mayhap that's true? Darcy's never put much thought into death. Or life, even.

Think.

Well, they don't want to do that.

Hear... Feel... Think.

The brightness grows, grows, coalesces into a solid shape. Vast, vaster than Darcy's pain-addled mind can grasp. A crystal! A crystal the size of a mansion, the size of the palace, the size of a-

The size of a world-

They feel something, a dawning comprehension. A duty pressed upon them, a burden they must take up. There and gone, fleeting. The promise of more to come. An unspoken promise, I will speak to you again.

"Fuck," Darcy says, opening their eyes. Still sore, still weary, but they can move now. They roll slowly onto their side, taking in the carnage - fire, fire everywhere, blazing in the dry Thanalan grass. Not good; that'll attract attention, if it hasn't yet. Time to move. They roll over again, pushing themself up, then up again, until they're back on their feet.

Four other bodies lie among the flames, unmoving. Darcy limps toward the discarded shape of their staff, flung from their hand by the force of the explosion. Better keep that; at least it's not Imperial issue! They can pass as any old... thaumaturge? It's thaumaturgy here in Eorzea, isn't it?

Because they're not going back to Garlemald.

The thought sets their heart to racing, as they search the bodies of their fallen colleagues for any supplies that might be useful. When will they have this chance again? They've as good as vanished. No one else survived the explosion; no one here knows them. They can pass as any other Highlander; they didn't inherit their mother's third eye. Just become the adventurer they've been pretending to be all along.

Who'll question it? They never have to go back - no more uniforms, no more orders, no more snow, no more being looked down on! They're free, just as soon as-

"You... live," one of the corpses says.

Darcy nearly jumps out of their skin. The mission's leader, still alive. Damn it all, that's bad luck.

"Get... med kit," he wheezes. "I'll call... for assistance... from Westwind."

The world slows. Darcy's hand tightens on their staff. Whatever force was used to mend their wounds and get them back on their feet, it's left them tapped out of aether; no magic. Well, that's that, then, isn't it? Time to patch the old bastard up, get him back on his feet, call for aid from Cape Westwind, and then it's right back to duty again.

Right back to the way things've always been.

Darcy stands. "You know what," they say, hefting their staff. Good, heavy thing. Metal. Made in Ul'dah. That's as good an omen as any. "I've always wanted to try this."

They swing the bulky head of the staff down, aiming at the dying man's head.

#darcy #my writing #febuwhump #febuwhumpday16 #febuwhump2023 #darcy begins as they mean to go on #saying 'no. fuck you. <3'

13 notes · View notes

torley · 10 months

Photo

Centris 660av (Quadra 660av) Centris 660av (Quadra 660av) | Low End Mac Future Look of Retro https://lowendmac.com/1993/centris-660av-quadra-660av/

#pinterest #Future Look of Retro

3 notes · View notes

rhokitten · 10 months

Text

Credit to professorsparklepants who I stole the idea of Fanfic I Won’t Write Friday from. Still not certain if they did it first, but I still want to credit them since they’re the one I saw do it and then copied.

I had an idea of how to rewrite Handbook for Mortals inspired entirely by GenerallyPooky’s Too Long, Read Anyway review of the book. (You totally should go watch her stuff on YouTube, it’s really funny.)

So, I haven’t read the book and honestly I don’t really want to but my idea was to reframe the story so that Zade (who I am renaming Zadine because Scheherazade really is a bad name for a white, American, witch) rather than ‘running away from home to become just a normal person as a Las Vegas performer’ it’s more like Kiki’s Delivery Service where she’s going out into the world to learn from experience.

My plotline idea:

Witches have to stay home for the first quarter centry of their life so Zade could never leave her hometown or she’d literally lose her magic. Now on the eve of her 25th birthday she has to leave town and spend the next 25 years learning on her own and refining her magic. Her mom actually suggests that she spend part of her time in Las Vegas trying to find her father. Her mom can’t actually tell her who he was, just that he was a stage magician 25 years ago. She gives Zade a butterfly hair pin that he had given to her before she had to leave and give birth to Zade (something to do with needing to be able to properly ward the land so that her child could safely learn magic). Since the book is called “Handbook for Mortals” I’m going with the idea that witches live for a really long time, to the point mundane people seem like mortals to gods.

When she gets to Vegas she actually gets a job as a stage hand, learning how to do magic the mundane way and then building off of that with actual magic. Mac is hard on her, not because he is trying to be mean but because he wants to make sure she’s tough enough for show business. If she can’t handle his rudeness there’s no way she can cut it as part of the show. She ends up becoming Sofia’s understudy, which makes Sofia go from ignoring her to hating her because she thinks she’s going to take her place.

So, Zade is trying to find her dad, getting pulled in by Jackson who actually has three other girlfriends. Sofia actually feels bad about Zade falling for him after Zade rescues her from an accident that nearly kills her and tries to help her, telling her that it will only end up hurt if she doesn’t realize he’s playing with her.

It’s kind of fuzzy after that, but I was thinking about the girls bonding after Jackson shows his true colors, Mac tells Zade that he’s interested in her seriously, and Charles realizes that Zade is his daughter when she wears the butterfly pin for a show when she took over for Sofia since she was hurt too badly by the accident to perform.

Pros of continuing the fic:

- I honestly think it would fix the pacing, characterization, and plot

- It would be really cool if Pooky found my fic and liked it

Cons of continuing the fic:

- At that point, I’m rewriting like 80% of the book so why not just write my own book at this point?

- I probably would really need to actually read the book

#fanfic i won't write fridays #fanfiction ideas #handbook for mortals

5 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs