Im not around like i used to (not even lol) but i still like to pop up and see some of my mutuals (or former mutuals in some cases) rping.

Its nice

ez my beloved can i ask u to find some genders or sexualities based off divinity and like, greek gods? 🥺 thank u ily (snake pit!!!)

fuck yes!! one of my headmates is pandeitaeic so this was basically just. if we sat down and listed her actual genders

general divinity:

pandeitaeic: identifying as all godly-related genders (within one’s experiences)

diviniumgender: a masculine-leaning, soft gender relating to gold and, though not always, the divine heavens.

Praegender: A gender identity similar to xenogender but much greater in the span of things. It’s a god-like gender far outside beyond the normal cognizance of gender that it’s omnipresent, not null, but Other, and beyond mortality and time. For deity-kin and god-kin it can also represent a gender their deity/god self had in their past life before reincarnation.

Angeligender: A gender relating to god-kin or angel-kin which is hard to describe.

Deusgenus: A gender for God system members, above gender and gender norms. Above masculine and feminine (but doesn't mean you cant be masc/fem and deusgenus.) It can be holy and untouched.

Ethvifluid: A fluid gender that is associated with divine and ethereal energies. Can be used as a xenogender, aesthetigender, or kingender.

Wendecure Light (Ligrel; lie-grel): When you’re genderless because you’re made of light or are divine. Not exclusive to kin, as long as you relate to the term. Could also be genderless with connections to light or the divine.

Goddessian: A gender related or connected to goddess(es).

Godian: a gender related or connected to a god(s).

greek:

Sonnegender: A gender related to the Greek or Roman God Apollo, or the Greek God Helios, or the Roman God Sol, or any other sun deity.

Lunirgender: A gender related to the Greek Goddess Artemis, the Roman Goddess Diana, or the Greek Goddess Selene, or the Roman God Luna, or any other moon deity.

Mercugender: A gender related to the Greek God Hermes or the Roman God Mercury.

Marigender: A gender related to the Greek God Ares or the Roman God Mars.

Juperigender: A gender related to the Greek God Zeus or the Roman God Jupiter.

Saturnigender: A gender related to the Greek God Cronus or the Roman God Saturn.

Uranugender: A gender related to the Greek God Ouranos or the Roman God Uranus.

Neptunigender: A gender related to the Greek God Poseidon or the Roman God Neptune.

Plutigender: A gender related to the Greek God Hades or the Roman God Pluto.

Olympianic: a gender related to or connected to Olympian god(s).

Titanian: a gender related to or connected to a Titan (Greek mythology).

Keresgender/Keresmythic: A neutral-aligned gender that may relate to the Keres and/or violent death. This identity can exist on its own or coexist with other labels such as: Keresboy, Keresgirl, Keresenby. This gender may feel as if it was born of violence and put out harshly, forged by war, flames and anguish. This gender also feels as if it's born from hardships and/or trauma. It may fluctuate based on stress and surroundings and may also feel like a raised scar on skin that will never quite fade.

Hellenismos Religiogender Masterlist

misc:

Refligender: An angelic gender that reflects one’s commitment to God and their belief in Jesus as the human God. This is a gender for people who identify as angels and is specific to Christians.

Diviniantiol: a gender that's divine and feels like a sunset rising over (specific to pagans?)

Savimysterius/Sidavicus: a masculine xenogender that feels shrouded in fog and is hard to define. It’s slightly fluid, golden and ancient, and draws influence from many sources, including: crystals & forests, stars & death, old gods & demons, angles, and the fae.

feel free to put other terms one knows of in the replies!

Of birds and sorceresses

I love the tiny metaphor Sapkowski put into Tissaia de Vries & Philippa Eilhart confrontation.

So, generally a lot of characters in the saga have this kind of bird symbolism: Ciri is both a swallow and a falcon (Gvalсh’ca), Yennefer is a kestrel, Skellen is known as Tawny Owl, Lara Dorren is associated with a seagull. Milva? A red kite. Eredin? A sparrowhawk. Ortolan is... Well, he has something in common with Emberiza hortulana. Who would have guessed? This tendency, by the way, continues in the following work of author. Bir­kart von Grel­le­nort, antagonist of the Hussite Trilogy, can turn into a wallcreeper (does it remind you of someone?).

That's when things gets really interesting, because Philippa is – obviously – Lady Owl. And in the past Tissaia was known as Skylark. Let's take a look at symbolism of those two birds in the context of characters.

Both in poetry and literature, skylark is mostly associated with morning, hope and new beginings. Which is not surprising, considering the usual time it begins to sing. It's a small brown bird – yet widely aknowledged by many poets as a companion of sunrise.

When it comes to owls, though, meaning can vary a lot. Like, really a lot. Wisdom and knowledge? Yeah, thanks, Athena. In many cultures (including Polish) owl can serve as a death sign as well. It's often related to witchcraft and misfortune. But what's more important, owls are nocturnal. And symbolize night, first and foremost.

Morning and night. Light of the rising sun and nightly darkness. The beginning and end. Of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, respectively. Just think about it: Tissaia is old enough to witness the start of Mirt, Aretuza and Ban Ard. She lived through events that established the status quo of her profession. And to many younger sorcerers she is an embodiment of the times long gone. Because the day must end – Arch-mistress commits suicide – and actions of Philippa Eilhart mark the moment when metaphorical night falls for the Brotherhood and the Continent. It's all results in the Witch Hunt and her own death.

As we know, sometime later magic users will become as influentual as ever and the Lodge members will be considered saints.

Because, as Sapkowski likes to remind us, time is like the serpent Ouroboros, which bits its own tail.

Ashnard and the new Eldigan are gonna be great grail projects. As is young Minerva. I have a plus 10 male Kana that is a good distant counter+ vantage tank.

I don't know to much about gengolgy (gonna play it after I finish xenblode) so eldgan is one I'm planning on once I know about him you know lol. And yeah ashnard is playing phase anit he? I kind of need that lol as the only blue unit I have plus 10 and good is berkut who is enemy phased built so I'll think about him as well. And fuck I stright up forget m kana is a grel unit lol the only counter vantage character I have is laslow so a dragon version would be good as well. Alright thanks you for the help I'll deffently think about them when deciding ^_^

Mandalorian’s of In Honor

The following list contains the names and basic established facts about the Mandalorian’s of the covert. These Mandos will all be featured in my fic In Honor, some already have made appearances. 

Paz Vizla - Alpha male, age 35

Din Djarin - Omega male, age 26

Tharr Djarin - Alpha male, age 56, unmated, buir of Din, ba’buir of Jae

Vraax Craurs - Alpha male, age 32, unmated - buir of Foundling Ria (Brer) Craurs

Poz Wrykir - Alpha male, age 41, unmated

Jaral Blys - Omega male, age 26, unmated

Llix Sairs - Omega male, age 26 - joins a Triad

Rhillallis Brakkyk - Alpha male, age 45, unmated

Nioth Jirs - Alpha male, age 49, unmated, official medical doctor

Dij Lott - Omega male, age 45, unmated

Rirk Strynnard - Alpha male, age 33, unmated

Krit Skuan - Alpha male, age 39, unmated

Toz Wragarn - Omega male, age 35, mated to Rurk Kust, buir of Foundling Rallo Kast

Sakka Krol - Omega male, age 42, unmated

Miits Kin - Omega male, unmated, buir of Foundling’s Mecaysh Drurr & Truj Mok

Xet Ulut - Omega male, age 30, unmated, Foundling of Ka Ulut (deceased) who was mated to Vrossun Litt

Waik Pahl - Alpha male, age 26, unmated

Rurk Kust - Alpha male, age 42, mate of Toz Wragarn, seeking biological parents of Foundling Rallo Kast

Ramar Bral - Alpha male, age 53, unmated

Vrossun Litt, Alpha male, age 52, mated to Ka Ulut (deceased, during The Purge), only remaining family is his mates Foundling Xet Ulut

Krel Buwr - Alpha male, age 39, mate of Lissi Braisitt

Phaoh Fak - Alpha female, age 29, unmated

Xil Spyn - Omega female, age 27, unmated

Jhasla Lyrek - Alpha female, age 32, mate of Nas Vydyss, joins a Triad

Nas Vydyss - Omega female, age 30, mated to Jhasla Lyrek, sustained injuries during The Purge as a child making child bearing impossible, joins a Triad

Ta Blak - Alpha female, age 42, unmated

Lissi Braisitt - Omega female, age 27, mate of Krel Buwr

Jhia Stryvywr - Omega female, age 36, unmated, past Trials partner of Paz, buir (mother) of Khal Vizla

Vha Cryrn - Alpha female, age 29, unmated, medic, in training under Nioth

Khamrah Aivhel - Alpha female, age 27, unmated

Zel Aran - Alpha female, age 20, unmated, not of age to join the Trials, youngest adult in the clan, Armorer’s apprentice

Ka Chell - Omega female, age 30, mated to Zerr Zoluss, past Trials partner of Paz, buir (mother) of Xoeth Vizla, and twins Grel & Norai Zoluss

Zerr Zoluss - Alpha male, age 56, mated to Ka Chell, buir (fahter) of twins Grel & Norai Zoluss, step-father of Xoeth Vizla

Thi Crart - Alpha female, age 29, unmated, buir of Foundling Nira (Jas) Crart

Phoraah Avell - Omega female, age 50, unmated, The Armorer aka the Matriarch (Alor) of clan Kyr’stad (Death Watch).

Xoeth Vizla - Alpha male, age 9, son of Paz and Ka, oldest child in the clan, brother of Trath, Khal, Caz, Norai and Grel

Trath (Zerr) Vizla - Alpha male, age 8, Foundling of Paz Vizla, brother of Xoeth, Khal & Caz, unknown origins 

Mecaysh (Drurr) Kin - Alpha female, age 8, Foundling of Miits Kin, sister of Truj, Atoan ancestry, rescued from a slaver’s ship

Truj (Mok) Kin - Alpha male, age 8, Foundling of Miits, brother of Mecaysh, Zabrak-human hybrid, rescued from a slaver’s ship

Khal Vizla - Alpha female, age 7, daughter of Jhia & Paz, sister of Xoeth, Trath & Caz

Rallo Kast - Alpha male, age 7, Sarkhai ancestry, Foundling of Toz & Rurk

Norai Zoluss - Alpha female, age 6, sister of Grel & Xoeth, child of Ka & Zerr

Grel Zoluss - Omega male, age 6, brother of Norai & Xoeth, child of Ka & Zerr

Nira (Jas) Crart - Alpha female, age 6, Twilek ancestry, Foundling of Thi Crart

Ria (Brer) Craurs - Omega female, age 4, Twilek-human hybrid, Foundling of Vraax Craurs

Caz (Krykky) Vizla - Omega male, age 4, Foundling of Paz Vizla, brother of Trath, Khal & Xoeth, found by Paz at the same time as Trath on Nevarro, born to a murdered Omega human female who was a runaway slave

Jae Djarin - no secondary gender, age 50, unknown species classification, “The Child” and Foundling of Din Djarin, Force sensitive, unknown history/origins

Unused names that may still make an appearance in future chapters: 

Vas, Saez, Larak, Jaigr and others yet to be named.

The above list in not necessarily set in stone, all those who have not yet made an appearance in In Honor are still subject to changes such as: gender, history, age etc. In regards to gender these changes may cover both the status of being an Omega, Beta or Alpha (or no secondary gender at all) or even the individuals gender identity (he/she/they/them). The universe is a big place, not all “humans” or human-hybrids are going to fall within the same mindset culturally, mentally or even physically with regard to gender.

The Omegaverse I am writing does not contain Omegas or Alphas who are in anyway completely similar in either behavior, characteristics, cultural/societal views etc. The Mandalorian’s of the In Honor universe do not follows these ideals, being Mando’s they’re made up of many species and therefore ideas that have ultimately led to a broader progressive view on gender. That is to say, they don’t care. You are the life you live and your actions, judged only by your actions as a Mandalorian. 

The Empire and to some extent the Republic (and the Rebels) have a less progressive view overall. This is more from both sides warring over their ideas of a functioning society/universe and has resulted (as we know) in turning a blind eye on the marginalized and enslaved. Not exactly the place for flourishing progressive ideals on A/B/O politics or much of anything really. To be fair to the Rebels and the Republic (old and new) trying to stretch resources to an already vast universe to maintain law and order while “saving” others is a tall order. So, not so much turning a blind eye as running a triage unit. 

But this is all just super basic info for In Honor to flesh out the world, most of this isn’t going to get covered in any large context because the story is strongly about Paz/Din, Jae and their family & clan.

I’ll eventually be making a post on the physical traits of the Alpha’s and Omega’s of In Honor, they vary widely and there’s no such thing as “wrong” when it comes to them or their Beta kin either. As well as other world building elements. 

But feel free to ask any questions on this post about the Omegaverse of In Honor or any of the above listed character’s. Any other questions please hold for other posts, where it likely will be answered there.

Take What is Mine VI

ToC: I - II - III - IV - V

The feast of the hunt was getting underway. Torches lined the pathways, children play fighting, elders bemoaning the younger generation and youngsters listening to embellished tales of hunts. Holding the drink in my hand I smiled watching my people celebrate a well done hunt with a feast of our spoils. Not all of our food, but everyone contributed. 

I took a sip and looked around, spotting Sakura speaking with Emiya, one of the many hunters. Not a bad one, but not really my cup of ale. I continue to scour the crowds with my eyes, looking for a head that should have long returned. That mate of mine is too good to have been killed in his first hunt...right? No, no, he is arrogant and his feats have been heard even here, not that we’d tell him. 

I set my cup down and stand, signalling to Sakura to come to me. Leaning close to her ear to ensure others do not get a whisper of conversation, not that many would with dancing, children and feasting, I whisper to her my question.

“Where is he?”

“Apologies,” Sakura whispers back, “but it seems that he has yet to return. I have sent out a scouting party to see if he can be found,” she pauses, “or his body.”

His body? Why would only his body be found? Before I knew it I was having her walk with me to the back rooms. No need to alert anyone during a joyous occasion. I pull her to the back room and have her against the wall with my hand on her throat. 

“What have you schemed now,” I growled baring my teeth. Sakura likes to play games with her image. Plant ideas and schemes here and there and make the other party believe it was their idea. Or, push them towards it with just a few words. Perfect for envoys of other territories or even the wayward humans who believe they can claim dominion over us as if we truly were beasts, but my mate? I couldn’t help but tighten my hand around her throat. 

“A-Alpha...I,” she could barely sound out, “I only...said...to watch out…” she tried to take a breath, I loosened only for enough air.

“Watch out for whom Sakura,” I growled beginning to lose patience, “Who did you warn my fool of a mate away from?”

“O-Old...Scarred PAW,” she dropped like a piece of wood into fire. Watch out for Old Scarred Paw? She sent my fool out to fight the Great Bear, that to even us is a beast among beasts. I only met the bear once a few years ago. It was through blinding an eye that I managed to escape and barely at that. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. I can feel my claws aching to rip her apart, my gums aching to dive into her throat. My mate...my mate is dead. Old Scarred Paw kills all in its way.

“You,” she coughed, “you can always find a better mate,” she coughed a few more times, “a better one. Find a beastman,” she cleared her throat. 

I could hear her words but it felt as if my ears were underwater. She sentenced my mate to die. A hunter's death is glorious but a death is still a death. And my cubs will be without their father. I can only watch as Sakura attempts to stand.

“Do not look so lost,” she cleared her throat, using the wall as a crutch, “you are the Alpha, you can have whoever you want of the males, or,” she paused looking at me, “the females…”

I can only continue to stare at her. My eyes are dry, but already at the thought of my blond fool my heart howls in sorrow. Before I knew it my fist was buried in the root wall of the Great Tree. My face leaned in close, so close, I could see the pinks in the purples of her eyes. 

“No,” I whispered softly, “there will be no other for this Alpha. I will walk into the forest and howl my sorrows and let myself be hunted to death.” 

“You speak,” her voice still croaking, “as if you swore matehood to him for eternity. As if you said the vows when you mated him,” she tried to growl. I can only stare at her foolishness. Perhaps if I had acknowledged...no...it would not have changed that I felt only the affection of a friend. 

“I did,” I smiled, “I swore to the Earth Mother, and the Sun Father,” my heart shattered, not even a day mated and already he is gone, “and beneath the light of the Daughter Moon and the Children Stars, I swore to be his mate. His hunter. His hearth,” I paused and closed my eyes, “and his home.”

Staring into her eyes, I could see the tears gathering and pulled back. I am already exhausted at the thought of the announcement of giving Sakura the Alpha position as I will walk to prepare to be hunted into the afterlife. I turned my back to my foolish friend, I always knew one day her schemes, her tricks would come to bite her in the ass, but I didn’t think it would bite me too. Hah, bitten by association. And it meant my death, what irony. 

“I will announce my abdication and the Right of Prey for the morning,” I begin walking forward before pausing once more, “This means you, as my successor will have to fight once again for your claim.”

“Why,” she gasped, “why would you vow to him your soul,” she questioned as if she didn’t understand despite the amount of times I told her. Well it couldn’t be helped, maybe my act as the Alpha fooled even her? Who knows and at this point, who cares?

“I told you didn’t I,” I questioned as if she hadn’t heard the story a thousand times, “I want the kind of love my parents had,” I fiddled with the fang necklace hanging from my neck, “a pure love where it didn’t need to be questioned or said. One where you just know.” 

I took a deep breath and shook off the lingering sorrow that now fills me completely. I am still Alpha and will be until morning. A feast will go on regardless of the news tonight. I will make sure of that. 

“Fix yourself quickly, and then join my side.” 

With that I walk out of the back room and to the throne. I sit back down and gulp down my drink calling for a young cub to get this Alpha another. The cub sprints away cheering but is scolded by his mother as she hands him a full cup. He attempts to run over only to be scolded loudly to his chagrin, and, to the entertainment of others. A chuckle leaves my lips as I pat the cubs head and send him to play with his friends. I take another sip as I once again survey the Main Den hall. I will certainly miss this. As I put my cup down and Sakura finally joins my side, I take a glance to see her eyes are slightly puffy. Fool. I signal to the drummers to cease and let out a large howl. With that I stand. Time for my final show.

“My fellow beasts,” I exclaim loudly, “today the hunting party hunted well for the week! However,” I pause, “I have some sad news to relate to you, my fellows.”

With this Sakura will once again have to fight for her place as Alpha. 

“I will be ab-”

Howls begin to sound about the village. Multiple howls alerting everyone to something coming. Cubs are rushed behind their parents, young ones beginning to growl and adults flexing their claws. Those howls were of the scouting party. Did they come to bring me his remains?

A young male runs in panting and pale as if he were prey himself. 

“ALPHA,” he panted. He should not look so tired and he began to stutter and flail about. 

“Y-your-”

“MY WHAT,” I couldn’t help but roar. This is ridiculous, I can’t even get an announcement in, “out with it boy!”

“YOUR MATE KILLED OLD SCARRED PAW,” his voice echoed around us. What? What sort of joke is this? My mate would have been killed by that damn bear. 

“So you come to jest about Old Scarred Paw here,” I couldn’t help but growl and begin walking to the whelp. 

“I-I am not jesting Alpha,” the whelp shook in his footwraps, “h-he carries the Great Beast upon its back. The O-old Bears’ other eye...it's been stabbed,” he stuttered, “a-and his throat s-slashed.”

I was about to grab the whelp and shake him for unknowingly poking at my broken heart when the occupants of the hall burst into chatter. Behind the whelp I can see the body of the old bear heaving up and down. Entering the hall, two golden legs stopped right in front of us and threw the body of Old Scarred Paw at my feet. There standing in front of me was my mate. This foolish human king, Gilgamesh. His breathing strained and heavy, his body bruised, dirty, bloody and cut up. I couldn’t help but hold my breath. This man, he won’t ever know how he just saved me right now. 

Chapped lips suddenly opened up before letting out a booming laugh. I could only stare into his red eyes as he smirked. 

“A worthy adversary, but that beast is no Humbaba,” he chuckled a bit more before his hand came up to slick his hair back, “rejoice beastwoman, I killed your monster.”

“You did,” I pushed the whelp out of my way and walked up to him. My mate is alive. My mate killed Old Scarred Paw. I drew closer to him, stepping over the corpse and standing right in front of him. I couldn’t help but examine him. Mostly intact, with a good bit of bruising. 

“Hmmm,” he raised an eyebrow as I looked back at his eyes, “what is it you-mmph!”

I grabbed his face and let my lips claim his. My mate is alive. He really must be part god. That’s the only way he could have triumphed over the old bear. I kissed him with everything I was, my entire being. Pulling away I couldn’t help but breathe heavily, pulling back a bit, feeling my eyes water. 

“You should praise me more...mon..grel,” he said, falling back, I barely caught him in my arms.

“GIL!” 

Dungeonpunk Session 8

Apologies for not having one for last session, where we introduced Siara. She got roped into the party because her mission aligned with the party’s.and since she hlped take out Jake she got a part of the reward and now is kinda stuck with them. They learned that Cerilla Black (one of their first missions) got undead’d and that her husband is a necromancer and he wants the party dead. Kas, Drakonian pact mage, electric and crystal themed Wanawu, Kobold mage does a little bit of everything Mairum, Human hit things with big weapons and scream Navare, Sylphid (basically a gardevoir gijinka) who is your mom and has a warhammer.  Siara. Human (ish, humans are a little weird in this setting) ex-pirate prostitute

Session start took place a few hours after last session end. In the time skip the burned the bodies of teh rat bastards and weird space monsters that were infesting their new castle.

It all started with Kas being all MINE about the master bedroom. Kas and Siara bickered a bit.

They went to the guild hall and found Sorsha from the last storyline signing up for work and looking at hte wall. She was being adorable and Komi-esque about it. Everyone in the party was happy for her. They met with Giselda who brought over the guild's preferred contracter for repairs and work, and introduced him to the party they talked a bit then headed off to the castle with his scribe. He wants to fuck Navarre.

A new character Toth the Living Inferno came in to take a job. Kas started crushing on him ASAP. He's a big drakonian man, red scales and sharp features. He's a warrior-monk type and is not great around dragon girls. Especailly exotic looking ones like Kas. They were awkward and adorable. He proposed that htey go after a bounty togehter. Siara started trying to play matchmaker a little bit, he got flustered and left. Giselda the guild receptionist noted that he refused to be placed in a party and said he prefers to work alone. Hmmm.....

Sorcha, instead of just pulling the job she was gonna take and leaving, gently took out hte pin to remove the poster. Then replaced it and gently folded the poster and slipped it into her coat. It was a "find and kill a monster causing some farmers problems" job. She'll have it finished before nightfall.

They headed to the library to get some items identified by the librarian who is also a priestess of the Magister Divine. She bought some loot off them and identified their items. A needs to be repaired tiara, some dust of disappearance, and was able to just flip through a spellbook and figure out what it's general content was. Kas, Nav and Wanawu wouldv'e had to spend time digging into it to know. The librarian, who is of a same enough species to Nav, smooched her on the way out.

They then got ambushed by a few Blightwalkers (Zombies with a necrotic touch) and a Lesser Eye of Fear and Flame in the street because the big bad has no snese of decorum of subtlety. He wants them dead. The fight was fun enough.

Mairum went to go get drunk. The rest of the party went back to the guild hall to have Giselda relay what happned to the constable.

Pauly Grel, the bartender, made his exotic fuits healing draft. White rum, brown rum, brandy, mango juice, watermelon juice, and pineaple juice. With just a splash of an extra-healing potion. It restores 4 HP!

The rest showed up after talking with Giselda. Kas started drinking. Pauly told Wanawu that her sister was making serious bank by assassinating of a ton of people and it stressed Wanawu out until she was given a weade smoothie to calm down. Toth came in, Pauly pulled him aside and had a talk with him that invovles spoilers. Siara started playing match-maker again, getting a little pushy about it. Siara even him a wooden nickle from the inn/pub/brothel combo she works for, likely so they can get one of the special lover's rooms. He got really ambarrassed and left.

They went back to the keep and bickered more about who got the master bedroom. Mairum got pushed into the token small moat. They went inside nad met with Malek, who gave them a price quote for finishing/reparing/upgrading the place. Some bickering happened with Malek's scribe telling Marium that he wouldn't even fuck her with a demon's dick. She laughed at that. Malek and his scribe left, which lead to more bickering about who got the master bedroom. Siara implied she and Kas should sleep together again.

Kas and Sira eventually decided that one of the towers would be made into a nice room for her, one near a side door so she could make that her personal customer entertainment thing.

Sister Charity, A priestess sent by Bethany the caretaker of the pantheonic temple in town, came to inspect he in-keep shrine and offer her services as an on-site preistess. She is basically a sister of battle. If they hire her on (at a really low rate), she will act as both the shrine caretaker and as security. If you have Honey Select and want to have Charity ride your virtual dick you can find her card here: http://illusioncards.booru.org/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=33160

Mind Control and Things That Won’t Stay Dead

The party had been split up due to some of them succumbing to the enthrallment of two naga. Ilikoris was told to go polish the bones of the bone naga. Sychor was told to go farm mushrooms. Q and Basil decided to join him while Q tried to figure out if Sychor was being controlled or not. Top had stepped out of the cavern and hopped a ride in Tossa's backpack when Tossa was told to follow Grel Momesk and his drow and duergar friends to retrieve Karstis (the mage from Dweomercore). While they walk towards the lair of Karstis, Tossa claims to hear someone across the swamp, but she steps away just to leave a little gas behind (this is actually Top).

Q and Basil have snuck away from Sychor and are also heading west, but notice Tossa, Grel, and party so he hangs back.

Top turns into a bat, heads to the ceiling and attempts to fly ahead of the hunting party to get to Karstis first. She enters the cave, flies over revived skeletons and undead back to where Karstis was, but find his area empty. On her way back out, one of the wights sees her and shoots her out of the air with its bow, but allows her to back out after transforming back into her natural, gnomish self. At this point, the plan she had formed with Tossa is in danger. Tossa lags her group and lets them enter the first cavern where she knows there's a trap. Grel and his buddies are caught in the toxic cloud trap and Top immediately encases them in stone. Tossa and Top start searching the nearby tunnels and cannot find Karstis, but they DO find the exit to Dweomercore.

Top and Tossa decide to leave knowing that Grel and party will eventually fight their way out of the stone box. In the meantime, Q tried to follow the party only to notice that another outpost was manned with followers of the naga. He had to dispatch them with the help of Basil and finishes up just in time to see Top and Tossa fleeing the scene. He flags them down and tells them where Sychor is. They head back and Top is able to restore Sychor's mind and they all escape to make a run and saving Ilikoris the next day.

On the way back, they check the stone box to see that it has disappeared and there are two bodies there. Grel and a friend have escaped. The party camps out for the night.

The next day they cannot find Ilikoris at the same spot, so start to search. They see Grel and more followers clearly looking for Tossa (who betrayed them!) and have to avoid them. While still looking for Ilikoris they are avoiding other followers and finally hear someone whistling a tune they know from the Yawning Portal. Peeking around the corner, Sychor lets the rest of the team know where he is. Top makes a run for him and restores him as well! But, before he can tell her that he was NOT under any influence.

The party is restored, though, and they decide that now is as good a time as any to make a push on the naga.

Rushing the platform, they do engage the two naga and hold off the enthralled army they've built. This includes having to dispatch Grel. Through heavy fighting they kill the naga, but know they must do something else to keep them dead. After defeating waves of drow and duergar, the party finds a narrow tunnel to attempt to entomb the naga. They drag the bodies there and use stone spells to cap off both ends. The theory being that they won't have room to move or breathe when they return.

Exhausted from the fight, the party makes plans to return to Waterdeep soon.

Will the naga jail work? What happened to Karstis? Just how long has it been since anyone has seen daylight?

Dream of a Dying Age

0048 U.V.A.  – Neveous

Deep within one of the numerous jungles of the desert world Neveous, a crestafallen hero tells his tale.

“They called us the hope of a new world.” Sijen said sighing.

“What happened?” Asked one of the young Nevidian children who sat around the fire. The majority of the tribe had gathered to hear where their strange visitor had come from, sitting in groups of two and three as others handed out bowls of stew moving from tent to tent making sure everyone who needed a meal had one.

An insectiod woman with kind eyes approached with a bowl and waterskin handing them both to Sijen before moving on to feed others. He showed his gratitude by giving them all his story, the nomads who lived outside of the Sixteen Cities traveled all over Neveous on an endless pilgrimage across the desert. 

One of their oldest traditions was the exchanging of stories, the most sacred being what they referred to as the ’Elä’epocni’ meaning ’Life’s tale’ in their tongue. These people had saved his life it was only right that they knew, what they had saved him from.

He took a deep breath and a sip from the water-skin thinking back to days of glory long past, days filled with adventure and purpose. He thought of his homeworld, of the bustling city where he was born and raised where he at one time saw love and hope in the faces of every citizen in Nucade. 

If he closed his eyes and listened closely he could even now, still hear the roar of the crowds chanting his name so loud he could feel it in his bones. “Bastion! Bastion! Bastion!”

Sijen straightened his back and spoke in a clear voice, cutting through the silence of the jungle and the half-muffled conversations of the Nevidians.

“Eight years after the end of the Virindis War, The first support colony of what would become Nucade was completed. A skeletal frame work poised high above our homeworld Enkei. Stretching above the clouds and off in the four cardinal directions, held up by four massive megastructures set around key points on our world. A feat impossible with out the technology brought by the Mooks and Saturns…”

Another one of the children spoke up, though this one was polite enough to raise her hand before interrupting.

“Um…Mr. Geeg? How did the Mooks and Saturns get their big ship into the Virindis with the ‘Radiant Barrier’ in the way? Isn’t it like…a big ol’ ball of fire that keeps us all safe?”

Sijen rubbed his chin as if thinking deeply about the girls question, staling for time. He needed to tread a bit carefully as every race had their own interpretation of Solara’s Embrace, the Nevidians belief in particular saw it as a guardian and nest rolled into one crafted by their sixteen gods in order to protect them.

He had no love for the over-exaggerated ball of plasma but it was always better to err on the side of caution on new worlds, doubly so when religion was involved.

“I do not know little one, I am not blessed with Nevaa’li’s wisdom but it is known throughout the Virindis that our new friends; the Saturns and Mooks brought with them technology that accomplished things we thought only fifty-one years ago to be impossible. While we were stuck on our worlds my people clashing with blades of grel and yours with ones forged of blackstone, fighting over dying dynasty’s. They were traveling the cosmos and had been doing so for countless ages before they stumbled upon our solar system, some say the advent of their technological revolution brought with it, it’s own particular sort of hope a…new type of freedom.”  He answered sounding mournful.

He let the silence hang while reflecting on his words and allowing his audience to do so as well. 

The Gyiyg took a few bites from his stew before continuing. “Most Gyiyg traveled off world after the war, and who could blame them? Before that entirety of their world was nothing but a single continent and a smattering of islands, but now?—” He reached out and made a fist.

“Those who wished for a new life, a better life.—” He emphasized.

“Had only to take it with their own hands, no longer were the circumstances of one’s birth the deciding factor of what they could accomplish. With the onset of technology and the three major kingdoms of Gyiyg royalty all lacking heirs by the end of the war many took to exploration and education on other worlds, more still stayed behind choosing instead to migrate from the cities on the planets surface to the new colony among the clouds.”

“And for a time there was peace, but as time has shown all good things must end. In our haste to reach our new homes we gave no thought to the matter of civil liberties and while many veterans from the Virindis War sought to impart justice. Crime was a constant plague and with no former established governance combined with the loss of the monarchies we were a people in need of guidance, in need of a bulwark against the storm.”

Sijen looked up at the black moon overhead, snippets of moonlight peeked through the canopy of the jungle. Casting the area he sat in shifting shadows as the winds tossed the leaves to and fro.

“Eventually certain citizens stepped forward, tired of waiting; they became the change in the world they wished to see, at the same time even though the lineage of sires had died out those of the old aristocracy desperately clung to what was left of their power, pooling their vast wealth in an effort to regain control and influence by creating a standing military force known as the ‘Valisi Highgard’ though by then the remainder of the first layer of the support had been finished and Vigilantes had been watching over those who could not protect themselves for up to forty years…I was lucky enough to be one of these protectors.” He said with ghost of a smile, barely a smirk.

This time it was not only the children, but even the adult Nevidians also seemed surprised by this. The kids all called out question after question in an endless wave of inquiries, though only one caught his interest. “What was your alias?”

“I was known as ‘Bastion’.”

An elderly man wrapped in a hooded cloak spoke up next asking. “And what happened to make you leave your homeland, my son?”

“I, like many others were seen as a threat to their rule and were forced to either fight or flee. While we had seniority, the Valisi had numbers and cutting edge technology so at the behest of a collection of greedy fools, a campaign was instigated to remove us. I decided it was best to leave after…losing someone close.”

“I can only have faith, Behemoth will succeed where so many have already failed and fallen…”

I said i was going to do a thing but did another... The other thing still will come.

Here a little piece about one of Grel’s devotion day of the past. Might have been inspired by this song asdfgh

Bang bang bang!

“Come on, open the door Lu.”

It was early in the morning, that early that some people considered as ‘still being night’ you know? The dirty street of this corner of city’s bad part was slowly starting to trickle with half awaken people going to their commute, or the eventual bum ready to start their daily route.

Not Gangrel though.

Because Gangrel had to bang at his girlfriend (?) door, so she could explain what happened last night.

“I know that you are in there! The salesman guy down the street saw you coming!”

His knuckles bang on the wooden door again.

It wasn't a big house, it actually was a big house divided in many living spaces for the people who couldn’t afford a whole thing by themselves, he probably could sneak in through a neighbour and get to Luana’s. Wait a minute! Why would he have to do all that hustle just to get at his girlfriend’s (??) home?!

BANG BANG BANG

“Open the door!”

“Go away.” a tiny voice from inside replied.

“So you are there!” What a stupid thing to say, of course she was there, he got it confirmed before! What was it with him and his dead brain moments?

“Go away Gangrel.” He could hear a hiccup between the words. The only clue that something was really wrong.

“No! Im not j-- Tell me what happened.”

No response.

“Lou, come on, please? I remember we went to Billous’s bar and we talked, i seriously don’t remember much from last night just...What did i do wrong?”

He was being serious. After a rough week of almost invasions, battlefield thieving and terrible bosses bossing them around being more annoying than what legally shouldn’t be possible, the sixteen years old thief handyman though they deserved a good beer to unwind.

Things seemed good and fine by the first hours, but the mood shifted slightly when the ginger brought up the idea of them moving together to the next city over, away from the current breaking fight between the ylissean and plegian armies.

He didn’t  though nothing of it at first, of course, sprunging the idea of moving away to someone who stayed in the same place all their life was a difficult thing to do, he knew that, but in the end, there were many more pros to cons to this! He even talked about them to her! Well...At least he though he did. That was when the night started to get a little fuzzy for him. Next thing he knew, he woke on the floor of the bar with a terrible headache and with Big Bill himself saying that he got in an argument with his girlfriend (and that he should get out of here now, he needed to close).

“Please? Tell me?”

His voice was soft. Softer than he should have been in this situation. A minute passed, and not a word was uttered from behind the door.

BANG!

“God damn it, woman, just talk to me!”

He could hear sobs now.

Great. Fan-fucking-TASTIC! That was everything he needed at this moment.

“Stop being hysterical and tell me what i did already!” He banged on the door again, the sobs increased. Why she couldn't just talk to him? Why did he had to do this detective work just to figure out what happened last night?!

“OPEN THE DOOR!”

The heavy hand on his shoulder made his heart go cold.

“Hey buddy. I don’t think there’s anyone home.”

A (unnerving) gentle smiling man hold on to Gangrel’s shoulder. He wasn't a guard (of course not, it would never be one at this part of the town) but he he seemed to be full of...Bravado? Courage? The ginger looked around, and sure enough, he could catch some curious eyes hiding behind their house’s curtains and a few bystanders on the other side of the street.

...Fuck.

“Ah...Yeah.” Gangrel replied, too dumbstruck at the moment to come with something to get out of this situation.

It was not his fault was it? No...No it was not! She was being the unreasonable one! She didn’t even said what he did wrong! IF he did.

“Iiiiiiii will come back later. When she’s at home.”

He banged at the door a last time. The other man’s hand squeezed his shoulder painfully.

“Just to talk….” The next part came without he even thinking “Get my things.”

This reply seemed to appease the other man, even if his hand was still squeezing Gangrel’s shoulder for a second longer than needed before letting him go.

Yeah...Getting his things. Maybe this was not working out, even with this 2 mont-No, 1 month together?

...Why it seemed longer?

It hurt like they been living together for longer…

No matter. Doesn't matter. Not at all.

Time to go to work, time to bust his ass, time to ask his last payment, time to get his things back (not like he had much to begin with) and get out of here.

What a fantastic devotion day.

Final Hope

Sweat was building up under my iron collar. I tipped my head down, hoping to relieve the pressure pounding against my neck ever so slightly. As I did, my collarbones rapped against the collar, reminding me of how thin I'd become. How my muscles atrophied away, taking with them every last drop of hope I'd once had of escaping this hell. How my skin had become stretched against my yellowing bones, barely keeping the elements out of my tepid body. My body was so frail that it took only the faintest scratch from the collar to send languid rivers of violet blood dripping across my ribs and pooling in my concave stomach. The smell of the blood mixed with the fetid smell of despair and filth and shot iron-tinged arrows of decay back at my face. That smell brought me back to the fields where I last felt the sun.   * * * * * We were headed toward Nue, that last bastion of opposition against our coup. We had just come from a battle at Syra, the land of Wailing Winds. Syra was a fight that I wish I could forget to this day. Tattered from battle upon winning battle, our troupe accidentally wandered into an ambush. As I was setting up our humble camp for the night, watching helplessly as some of our provisions were tossed up into the air and stolen away by a wayward gust of wind, Kopak said that he heard something. I told him it was just the wind. Didn't he know anything about magiogeography? The wind here is possessed by souls, I calmly explained to him, biting the inside of my cheeks so I didn't yell at him again for being such a fool. He always did this. Kopak was one of our best warriors, but he was about as intelligent as a brick at the bottom of an outhouse. I told him that the land in Syra was once filled with a peaceful tribe that lived off the land and refused both alliances and enemies. Of course, just because they rejected others didn't mean that others rejected them. The violent army under the Lohaign monarchy wanted the fruitful land, but the Syrans refused to give in. They also refused to fight, so the leader of the army blew fire into the graceful wind and turned it into a gale of destruction and flame. The Syrans were swept up with it, and that's why the wind cries in this part of the country. Kopac listened, but his eyes were glassing over and his attentions were elsewhere. I assumed he was just thinking about the rations that were now far on the other side of the hill that we were camped at. I assumed wrong. Kopac sat with that glassy look outside of our tents all night. I had woken up once when the moon was hanging at its highest point, beaming like a white sun. “Kopac, why are you not asleep like everyone else?” I choked out, my words being swept up by the tortured souls whipping past me. “I hear something. I know I do. It's not the souls, Vanti. I swear it's not the souls...” His pointed ears twitched like little leaves dancing in a late year's breeze. “I already told you what they were. If you want to sit out here all night and freeze, so be it.” I was always more harsh with him than anyone else. We had grown up together. We were the ones that started the coup. I was the one with the plans, he was the one with the brute force. I was harsh because he was the only one who I would shed tears for if he were to go to the Other Lands. I hoped that my harshness would come across as care, but after that night, I realized I was wrong. I crawled back into my tent and curled under the hides spread across the ground. I fell back to sleep quickly, a nightmarish lullaby sung to me by the wind. And then, I was kicked from my slumber. I heard it. There was a crackling. Then a stomping. Then... The moonlight burst through my tent on the back of a sword. Everything was swirling around me. I reached for my bow in a panic just as everyone else woke up. The screaming of thirty warriors joined the cries of thousands of souls. I quickly rose, dressed only in a hoofed beast's hide wrapped loosely around my waist. This was the worst possible situation I could think of. I could think of more, I'm sure, if a six-foot-tall, armored demon wasn't slashing madly at me, his eyes dripping with death. “Everyone! This is an ambush! Arm yourselves!” I shouted into the fray. There was a flurry of hides being thrown into the air, and then the sound of swords drawn, clubs raised, and torches lit. I quickly surveyed the situation. Thirty of my men, many of whom were still in a half-asleep panic, and about sixty armed, protected, and fully awake kingsmen. “There's no time to form a phalanx! Attack! Attack!” Oh, the familiar sounds. The grunts, the heavy breathing, the clashing swords and clubs breaking bones. I lived for this. I tossed the panic off of my body like a tattered old cape. Tightening my meager coverings, I surveyed the soldier who had the audacity to break my sleep and rammed a bow straight through his eye. He cried in pain, and in his confusion, I jabbed another one through his ribs, opening his heart. As I pulled both back, I noticed the new adornments. One now had an eye charm, and the other was welcomed with a shower of red blood. The cries stopped, and he slumped over. Leaping over the body, I took another survey. My troop was fighting well, just as I had trained them. They cornered the opposition, then slashed or stabbed or immolated. The corners of my lips were wrought in a smile that didn't belong on a battlefield. But my pride in my soldiers wouldn't interfere with my duty. I ran past the edge of the camp and scurried up a tree, feet bleeding over the rough bark. Climbing up to a vantage point hidden by the battered leaves, I scanned across the fight, skimming over the dead of the opposition and lingering, though briefly, over my own casualties. I didn't really calculate how many there were, and that we were losing. Massively. The sun was now blazing high in the sky. This was a long battle. I spotted my quarry through squinted eyes. There, on the edge of the now-torn camp, I saw the man orchestrating the fight. He stood tall, unfazed by the battle, untouched by the blood, unnoticed by my men. Perfect. I drew my bow and centered his face around the tip of my hematite arrow. I drew back. I released. The twinging of my bow reverberated in my ear and reminded me to breath. To relax. I watched as his stone face was pierced by my missive. He fell onto frosted grass, face still but now covered in a spreading crimson glow. Everyone stopped. The man that previously went unnoticed was now the center of attention. The opposition froze and ran like mice as I silently cheered. They fled across the hills, now unable to continue with no leader. Unintelligent whelps, I thought. At least my men were trained to continue fighting even if I, their commander, had fallen. I should have thought harder, but I was too happy and fresh with a sense of superiority to think that perhaps it was too easy. Leaping off my leafy turret, my feet sank in the wet ground. I figured it was just frost warming up. But frost isn't usually red. And why is it so quiet? The ground was dappled with hide, tents, and still bodies. In a brief survey, I saw the tell-tale moss green armor of the opposition. But where were my men? I walked around with trepidation. I saw what no commander ever wants to see. An entirely felled army. I panicked. In a daze, I went over to the body of one of my soldiers to see if I could find what happened. His eyes were clouded with a sickly yellow film. The whites had become the color of ochre. I knew that color well. To confirm my suspicions, I checked an enemy's body for the bag. There it was, open in his hand, the powder spilled across his arm. Filt poison. The coward's way out. The yellow powder of a man who died in battle and insists on bringing his adversary down with him. Of course there was no cure, unless you happened to be born a woman. It didn't affect women because it was a poison that attached to some substance in a male's body that wasn't found in women. I was never good at the body sciences. But with that little drop of information came a gleam of hope. Grel. The one woman in my troop. I signed her on because of her incredible skills with a dagger. She could cut a man's throat out from behind without him noticing until his trachea was splattered at his feet. I felt confident that I wouldn't be discovered, what with my opposition being dead at that point. Even if some lone hanger-on awoke and tried to kill me, I was too far gone in the hopes of finding her. I felt that if I could grasp on to one person that had lived, one person that I could continue the fight with, I would have something to hold on to. Hope. In my rush to find her, I tripped over a very familiar pair of boots. My face met the ground with startling accuracy. Wiping twigs away from my face, my thought caught up with my memories. “V-Vanti?” I heard my name sputtered out with a gravelly, weak voice. I saw my frightened reflection through yellowed eyes. Somehow, with the mass destruction of my people and the hope for finding one still alive, I had forgotten one most important to me. Maybe I didn't forget him. Maybe my brain just pushed his memory to the back so I would have to feel the pain. Whatever it was, Kopac, my dear friend, was in the front of my mind. That strong, powerful creature with a noble heart and my undying respect (mixed in with jokes at his expense, but it was part of our relationship) was crumpled against a tree, his broken legs twisted on the ground like fighting snakes. His eyes were almost completely yellow across the iris and the coloring was creeping towards the pupil. This was the worst part of the poisoning process. When the yellow hits the pupil, it means that the poison has taken control of the blood. The poison was now perfuse in the blood system and almost completely bound to the walls of the vessels. With the next breath in, oxygen would bind to the poison and break the walls of the vessels, causing bleeding wherever there is blood and burning wherever there are nerves. “Vanti...I'm so glad you're alive. I'm...I'm fine...I just need...some water...” Normally I'd think a fool of anyone who tried to overcome filt poisoning, but in Kopac, the eternally uneducated one, it was nothing but brave. I couldn't let him suffer the thousands of internal fires and the onslaught of an internal river of blood. His pupils were beginning to become a dark amber. “Of course, Kopac. I have water in my pouch. Let me find it. But while I do, you must rest. Close your eyes and conserve your strength. We still have to go to the Fields!” He thought I meant the Nue Fields. I meant the Fields of Aouru. The fields where the soul could finally rest and look at the stars and know that each one was a person back in the living world that held their name in their heart. The fields that only the dead knew. He closed his eyes slowly, bit by bit. He smiled weakly. “Vanti...you are my best friend. You always hold me up and support me, even if I've done nothing but hinder. I'm so glad I've gotten to fight by your side. I look forward to fighting, you and I, in the final battle. We'll win, Vanti. We will. We'll sit shoulder to shoulder after the fight and know that the freedom of the kingdom was by our hands. When we're aged and grey and wrinkles deep as valleys, we'll sit back on the land that we freed so many years ago and feel the same feeling we felt when we freed it. I'll die by your side, Vanti. I will.” “Of course, old friend. Of course you will.” His eyes finally closed. I closed my eyes over stinging tears. With shaking hands, I drew an arrow out of my quiver. I could barely see through the veil of tears, but I could see his twitching fingers, meaning that the process was beginning. No room for hesitation. I drew my bow, the arrowhead pointed at the spot between Kopac's eyes that always wrinkled whenever he laughed. I closed my eyes. “Thank you, Kopac. I'll see you again in Aouru.” I released. The arrow shot through his skull and lodged in the tree he had been using as support. The blood trickled down his face and pooled on his smile. I pulled my quiver around and reached down into the pocket. My hands clumsily found the small pouch that held an emergency ration of water. Unplugging the top, I washed the blood away from Kopac's still-smiling face. It burned into my memory. I wished giving him the water while he was still alive would have the curative properties he wanted. Now, it only had curative properties for me-to see my friend's face at peace surrounded by nothing but pain and suffering. The cracking of twigs slowly brought my attention to the world around me again. I glanced up in time to see a frightened figure dash away through the trees. I should have given chase, but I just couldn't. I was too heavy with the sadness laden through my bones and across my sodden eyes. It was probably Grel, my last hope, my last chance at winning this war, but Kopac's blood weighed my feet down like leaden boots. I could feel it slipping through my toes and thickening over my heels. Heavy and burdened with emotion, I sat down at Kopac's feet, intentionally trying not to remember him. Tears cracked through the blood drying on my feet and left little pools of pink sanguine water. The words of my father rang through my head: “Warriors never let the enemy see their tears, because no warrior should shed them.” I was not a warrior, then. I was a coward. If shedding tears over a fellow soldier, a dear friend, meant I was a coward, then so be it. I allowed myself to weep unrestrained, soaking the ground beneath me. I wept for so long that I fell asleep. It was a rough sleep, dreams haunting my mind. Yellow clouds hung thick over a crimson sea, brackish waves tossing me under, filling my mouth with iron and staining my teeth. The screams of thousands of voices joined the wails of millions of souls in the powerful galestorm. And the scream that rose above them all was his. “I hear it, I hear it” screamed over and over right into my ears, drumming against my mind like a club on a quarry's head. A mouth with piercing ochre fangs opened up in the maddening storm and swallowed me, echoing the cries of a thousand voices screaming as their throats filled with blood and choked them... Sweat was pouring down my neck as I woke with a start. I found myself curled at the base of two familiar boots. The cries echoed in my ears as the rest of my mind slowly came to. The sun was just tempting the base of the horizon, a purple-red glow blazing across the sky. My eyes were still bleary, but clear enough to see Kopac's calm face closed in what only could be described as prayer. In my apparent thrashing during restless sleep, I had kicked his hands to rest in his lap, and his head was tilted down, making him look as if in calm repose. Aside from the arrow that was still jutting out from his forehead, his face was peaceful, and he still smiled. I considered pulling the arrow out, but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to rouse him from his meditation. Instead, I drew my simple medical set from the pocket in my quiver. It was a very basic kit. My troop had a medic who was a trained surgeon and village doctor before he had joined the fight. Alas, even the best of medical knowledge couldn't save him from the Ochre Nightmare. I unrolled the kit onto the ground in front of me. Hoofskin tourniquet, pointed forceps, hierrocyan pills (for inescapable situations where death is the only way out), linen bandage roll...ah. Shears. Shears always seemed like an out-of-place item for a kit whose goal is to treat injuries, not create them, but they were a godsend if ever a large piece of flesh or even an appendage was infected or perfused with poison and had to be removed to avoid systemic spread. It would create a massive wound, to be sure, but if that's the only option, then pain was better than death. The medic would (or would have, in this case) be able to treat the wound after the insidious claws of death were released. The shears weighed heavy in my hands with their new purpose. Trying hard not to disturb Kopac's peace, I grasped the back of the arrow. I felt one of his arms slip and shudder as I accidentally grazed it with my knee. I had to be more careful. I planted my hand on the moist ground beneath his legs and steadied myself against it. Pulling myself up to my knees, I let go of the ground with my steadying hand and held the shears with shaking nerves. I almost dropped them at one point. Sweat was trickling down my face and neck, even though a coolness had settled over the air along with the sun. I held the arrow tighter, tighter until my knuckles blanched to a sickly pallor. I swallowed hard, heavy, thick. My swollen eyes were stinging as the tide of tears rose again. With an unsteady grip I lifted the shears to the base of the arrow, the back of the blades sticking ever so slightly to his forehead. Deep breath in, letting the sallow air creep through my body. Deep breath out, making Kopac's hair rustle in my wind. I slowly tightened my hand against the handles of the shears. The sound of the shears cracking through the layers of wood made my skin tighten. With each crack, my teeth clenched further together until the grinding and taste of blood made me release. With one final snap, the end of the arrow came tumbling forward and rested in his lap. A jagged edge still jutted out from his forehead, so I took a metal file from the kit and sanded it down until the wood was flush with his skin. He now had what looked like a wooden screw in the head of a carved automaton in his head. Crawling on hands and knees, I carefully moved over to the back of his head and did the same, only this time, I broke the arrow with one cut so I wouldn't have to suffer with each small crack. I sanded it like in the front and smoothed his golden-brown hair over it. I crawled back to the front of him and pulled the linen bandage out from the kit. A braver, more logical man would have told me I was wasting supplies. He would be right. But I was not a brave man. I was not a logical man. I was a wounded, emotional man who would do anything to have his best friend flicker his eyes open and join him again, alive and vital at his side. In light of that happening, I was a man who would do anything to have his best friend be sent to Aouru in the best shape and have his body be left on this world as best it could be. I took the roll of linen and held it to my heart. I remembered every moment I could remember with Kopac. I remembered when we first met, when we trained together, when we fought together, when we celebrated together. I remembered it all, but I stopped myself before the memories became too recent. I refused to let myself hear him say, “I hear something,” for fear that my sanity would shatter into frail glass and scatter on the howling winds. Coming back to the real world, I stretched the linen and held one end to his forehead, wrapping the loose end around his head until the ends met again. Tying them off, I chanted the old healing prayer: Begone, blood that would spill and hide the sun Begone, black that would rise and swallow the moon Begone, fang that would pierce the heaven and drop the sky Begone, sword that would cut the heart from the bone Begone, fire that would char the soul Begone, all ill that would enter here For once, the Syran forest was silent. The souls had stopped their wailing. I thought maybe, just maybe, it was because Kopac's soul was now with theirs, and he told him how he fought for them. How he gave his life to try and find freedom for their misery. How he died with revenge on his lips for the ones that killed them. I placed his arms back in his lap and prayed with him, closing my eyelids over wet eyes, feeling the final tears slip across my cheeks. The warm glow of the fading sun dried them. When I opened my eyes again, the stars hung high in the sky and the chartreuse-tinted moon glowed, bathing the world in a pale green tint. I forced myself to stand, because I knew if I let myself stay any longer, I would stay there forever, forsaking eating, drinking, winning. I would stay there until my eyes closed and never opened in this world again, only opening again as the eyes of a shade in Aouru, where Kopac now was. My body rose and creaked, and my feet felt unsure holding my weight. I looked down at where my companion sat, still in repose. The two parts of the arrow    sat on the ground at his feet. I considered leaving them with him, a part of me to stay with him for eternity, but my hands wouldn't let me leave them be. After a moment's debate, I let him keep the front half. His hands, still outstretched in prayer, now held the arrow that saved him from agony. If his soul were ever to visit his body, it would see the arrow and remember me. I wanted him to have the front because he was my driving force. I kept the back because I was always behind him, helping him as he would help me. I put the piece in my quiver and began walking back to where I had left most of my belongings, refusing to look back, because if I did, the river of tears crossing my face would become an unrestrained waterfall. Crossing over hurdles of corpses, I made my way back to my belongings, the thought of anyone but Kopac nary entering my mind. I strapped my bags to my back and began to walk towards the edge of the wooded area. I was just at the threshold when I remembered the existence of one other person: Grel. I had to go back. I didn't want to be in that decaying death pit any longer than I had to, but she was my last hope. I dropped everything I had at the base of a tree. I wanted to call out to her, but some invisible force had its hands wrapped around my throat. I would find her on foot, silently. The moon was casting striped shadows across the ground. The forest seemed much larger than it had in the daytime. The illusion of pitch-black halls formed from the rows of trees made the forest seem like a place of nightmare, where scaled beasts swoop down to swallow creatures with beating hearts and the blackness envelopes all those who would dare enter such a cursed place. I slowly crept through the trees, far enough past the battlefield that its ghost would no longer haunt me. The sound of dead leaves rustled past my ears, the firm crunch falling away beneath my feet. I stopped and listened. The souls whistled past my ears, their wails hushed by blank wind coursing through the trees and past the branches. I could hear a faint rush of water in the background. I closed my eyes. There was a creek about 5 meters to my left, a little bit south of where I was. I thought maybe, just maybe, Grel would be there. Why would she hide in the darkness of the trees when there was a stream, an opening where she could perhaps escape for just a moment from the crushing darkness? Stepping with high steps to avoid making sound, I headed in the direction of the sound. The cold air bit at my skin. Within a few minutes, I could see the reflection of the moon rippling across the surface of the water. And in that reflection, a dark figure weeping at the water's edge. Losing my concentration for just a moment, I accidentally stepped down hard on a twig. The cracking sound echoed across the forest. Two shining eyes, heavy with tears met with my own.                   * * * * * Those eyes, shining with tears, stared at me from the barred window to my left. A weak smile spread under them, dried blood splitting at the corners. “Is it today?' “It is.” I sighed heavily at the task that lay in front of me. Today was the day I would escape. I had been collecting scraps of metal that fell every time they crossed the bars of my cell with a thin metal pole. They would walk past and wake me up from my fake slumber daily to bring me to the Strapped Room, and with each hit against the bars, a tiny scrap of metal would splinter off. I had been collecting these shards for six years. Finally, today, I would have enough to form a sharp blade, nearly six dier in length. Just the perfect length to slash a throat or reach into a heart, piercing it with its metal fang. Her smile gained strength with those words. I would smile only when I could taste freedom again. I would never forgive myself for being tricked, that bastard capturing us as we left the forest. The man I had shot with an arrow was a decoy. As we left the forest, a demon dressed in yellow covered our faces with ragged cloth, soaked in a chemical smell. We woke up here, in the King's dungeon. In Hell. I looked up in time to see the guard's snarling face, his teeth in such disrepair that I could feel the decay float through the air. “Aye, it's time for me daily fun. Playing with a rat. Ooh, look! Yer all bloodied up an' ready, aren't ya!” How this man could come up with a different speech every day for the past six years was beyond me. I stood up, the blade rapping against my leg, tied in place with a patch of Grel's hair. He opened my cell door, the door whining as it swung open. He came closer, his breath becoming hot against my neck. My collar was unlatched, and the chain attaching my manacles to the wall was released and reattached to the bracelet on his arm. I was aching with anticipation. I wanted my chance. I was so eager to rein punishment upon my captors. But how would I ever be able to make my move? My hands were bound and I was surrounded by guards. In my excitement at finally having a full blade, I had not taken the time to come up with a plan. I was wracking my brain when I heard it. A faint whistling, moaning sound crossing through the hallway. A shy breeze floating in the air. The keys on the guard's belt began moving ever so slightly, then suddenly crashed to the floor. There were no words sufficient enough for my emotions, but I had to put them away and take my chance. As the guard bent down to retrieve the keys, my hands were forced down along with the chains. I reached up with one of my legs to the blade strapped around my opposite thigh. Carefully, I brought the blade with my foot down to my hands. Taking my opportunity, I slammed the blade into the guard's ear, far enough into his skull that when I pulled it out, there as a sticky gray substance coating it. He fell. Quickly, I grabbed the keys with my foot and released the chains around my hands. There was a clear black mark where they had grasped my skin every hour of every day for six years. It felt strange, almost cold. The guards who saw me began closing in on me. My dagger skills were not my brightest point, but I managed. As they got closer, I slit their throats, the gurgling, gasping sound clawing out of their open necks. I was surrounded by ten dead guards. I flashed back to the Syran forest, the bodies of the dead guards mimicking those hills of the dead under the wailing wind. Now was not the time to reminisce, though. The door to my freedom closed with every second that passed. The dust was languidly floating through the bars in the door that led to the outer corridor. The corridor, I assumed, would lead out of the building at some point. I grabbed the keys and dashed towards it, stopping at the threshold. I looked solemnly at the ground. This was it. The footsteps were pounding down from an upper floor. They must have heard the fight in the dungeon. Turning back, I grabbed every weapon I could carry from the backs of the felled guards. Daggers, long swords, rapiers-anything. I tied them on to my back and stood up, weapons clanking in discord. And then I turned to see those shining eyes looking at me in desperation. Another weak smile across her face. The footsteps were pounding closer. My escape was compromised. A throng of heavily-armed men burst through the door, one of them grabbing me by the legs. I could still fight, but I could no longer reach the keys to her freedom. I glanced one more time into leaking eyes “Y-you'll come back for me, won't you?” I was pulled away before I could answer her. But I would.

🅿♏👐

Ima go insane

until zayn run a train

On me dang

A magic dude i ain't finna say his name doe

What's up with all these clones

Trevons t shirts toes

Not finna talk about no negative hoes

Ain't been in love befo

Alright go head PO the Bo

Dutty wine @ the Jamaican show

Love me wise or forget ja clothes

Hold me tight babe ya makin me famous

I been that grel the Danish

I top stools universities Cambridge

TREVONNE the trillionaire in training

Draw d gun golden piss in my painting

I'm finna pee on my HITTA so you know where we aimin

And namin

he know who his name b

Shipping Info repost, don’t reblog!

tagged by:  @brin-star tagging: (have fun my dudes)

answer the following for your muse so people know how shipping works on your blog.

What is your OTP for your character?: Emmeryn. But i’ve been showed the GanXRobin way too so, that’s that.

What are you willing to write when it comes to shipping? Anything. Angst? Yes. Nsfw? Yes. Happy fluffy shit? Yes. ANything goessss

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?: Since everybody in this place aRE TEENS AND CHILDREN The max he goes is 20. He used to go for 23~25 on the youngest but...Yeah it’s hard to find these around here.

Are you selective when shipping? Yes. it REALLY depends on the chemistry. Theres could be this most awensome muse which Grel gets super well with but...They can end up feeling more like best friends than lovers? And i don’t know what controls this crank, but it happens...

How far do steamy moments have to go before they are considered NSFW? Are their genitals out? No? Not nsfw. Who are the characters that you ship your character with? In specifics?? Theres so many! There’s Robins, Grimas, Valters, Oc’s  , Emmeryns...Even a Chrom once! 

Does one have to ask to ship with you? Yep, but  again it’s not guarantee I’ll accept...

How often do you like to ship? I mean,...If there’s chemistry... Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less? I like shipping, i mean who dosn’t? But my rp experience don’t rely on it.

Are you multiship? YUP! ALL GREL’S SHIPS ARE CANON .

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom? Robin X Kellan @ me. Arthur X Azura  Gangrel X Emmeryn

Finally, how does one ship with you? Ok, first you have to pass the trials of the mountain wolfs, then procede to upside down room, where you will find the key to the monkey totem room. There you will turn the right at...Are you writing this down? Let me get you a pen and paper...

Heartbreak Healer

Heartbreak Healer: a sad/angsty romantic or queerplatonic headcanon.

not related to anything but I want to taste what that flavour is.

Ok so...Let’s see...Oh! I know one! Ok ,so, Grel only realised bisexuality could be a thing when he was 16 (around that age) and got with an older guy ,who wanted to make small talk after the deal, so he asked what he was.And he learned about all matters LGBTQ+ stuff and then the guy fucked off the next morning when he noticed that Gangrel TOTALLY LIED ABOUT HIS AGE WHAT THE FUCKK