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littlejuicebox · 6 months

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The sky responded, blue and silver bonded

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Chapter number: Five

Themes: BG3, slow burn, original female character x astarion, dialogue heavy, canon adjacent behavior, angst, feelings realization, trauma, the slighest of smuts in this one

Masterlist: Click here.

Song inspiration: "Blue and Silver" - Lower Dens

Notes: A little angsty, a little smutty. I'm obsessed with these two. I'm nervous to write a full out scene because I've never done one and the thought is terrifying to me. :)

Rating: Mature 18+

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It was evening when Astarion finally came out of his trance. His body was so tired, even after a full day of rest. He considered remaining in his tent until another merciful wave of sleep came to him, but the crackle of the campfire and its comforting glow lured the rogue from the confines of his tent. Everyone besides the little bird sat around the flame, all in various stages of their dinner, the distant sounds of bog creatures and the whimpers of a sleeping Scratch the only noise between them.

“How is she?” The pale-elf asked, his gut churning once again, unsure if he actually wanted to know the answer. He settled on a stump next to Wyll, where Scratch lay sleeping between the two men, but his attention was focused on the Shar-worshipper.

Shadowheart eyed him cautiously on the other side of the flame. She took a slow deep breath, almost as if it were her final attempt to delay delivering any news to Astarion. The woman shook her head and let out the breath in a shudder as everyone else in the circle suddenly became very interested in their food.

“Not good. She’s concussed; she vomited twice and keeps calling for someone named Kol in her slumber.” Shadowheart gave a cough as her voice began to crack. “I think her right eye is…. unsalvageable and her left eye will take a few days to heal. The confuson will be there for a few days, as well.”

All at once, Astarion felt as if he’d been the one stabbed by the Gur; he was greeted by another vile churn of his now-empty stomach. The silence of his campmates set him on edge -- 'How is nobody concerned by this?' -- and he snapped, unable to contain his frustration any longer and tongue lashing out to wound the messenger.

“What do you mean you can’t save her eye?! You aren’t trying hard enough, Shadowheart! Some god forsaken cleric you are… or are your tales of Shar’s power actually just fake and useless FUCKING propaganda!” He spat the words into the silence and was met with a swift blade pressed to his neck by none other than Lae’zel. Had the pale-elf not been blinded by rage and secretly hoping for a fight to release some of the tension housed in his body, he would’ve laughed at this interesting development.

“The only reason she’s in that tent is because that Gur was looking for you… or did you forget?” The Githyanki hissed, dark eyes filled with disgust. “And how many more monster-hunters will come our way because our leader stupidly insists on protecting you. I think we should all just cut ties with you... and with her.”

Astarion sneered at the Gith, pushing his neck forward, calling her bluff. “Did you forget, Lae’zel," He spat, scarlet eyes daggers as he met the alien's gaze. "That it was Wren who shot you down from that cage when your precious Shadowheart wanted to leave you to die? I will sooner kill you for your ungratefulness than watch you abandon her, you cockroach."

Karlach was on her feet now, forming a t-shape with her hands. “Timeout! Oi! No one is killing anyone and no one is slicing any necks and no one is leaving anyone behind. Not today.” She approached her campmates, sighing heavily. “Look. We all need to get some rest and formulate a plan tomorrow… together. It’s been too much excitement for one day and none of us can think straight.”

At this, Lae'zel swiftly lowered her blade from the vampire's neck with a hissed “tch.” She spun around and stamped toward her tent, tossing her dagger at the practice dummy where it sliced into the canvas and remained. The green woman ducked into her tent and then closed it off to the outside world, thwarting the hopes of any nighttime visitors.

The remaining camp members sat in tense silence for a moment before shrugging and also turning in for the night, leaving a clattering of bowls and spoons in their wake. That left Astarion alone with the dog, who had woken up during all the clamor and sat next to him, panting heavily.

Shadowheart, to her credit, had remained the longest, desperate to express something she couldn’t find the words for. The expressions she wished for never came, so instead she sighed and clasped her hands in prayer as she addressed the vampire.

“I am trying, Astarion. But I cannot work miracles.” She muttered, voice cracking again, before she heaved another stressed sigh and headed to Wren’s tent, focused on performing one last exam prior to bed.

Scratch placed his injured maw on Astarion’s lap. Initially, the rogue wanted to recoil at the smelly, hot breath the dog coated his leg in, but decided to leave the creature be. Gods. He desperately wanted to go to Wren’s tent and speak to her, but Shadowheart was already there, and the vampire was unsure if his stomach could face what was sure to be a horrible sight. Guilt and fear settled into his chest, their roots taking hold and twisting around his heart, sharp pangs hitting him every time he took a breath. He remained on that stump with Scratch until the last embers of the campfire dwindled, signaling the rogue that it was time to force himself into a trance and fall into the numbing void.

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Wren’s consciousness found itself warped in a hazy state somewhere at the intersection between reality, dreams, and memory for the next few days. The ranger startled awake the day after the Gur encounter to a stressed Shadowheart stripping Wren of her filthy, blood-stained tunic, which the cleric had declared a lost cause. Unable to protest due to the bile rising in her mouth, the honey-eyed half-elf had let the other woman undress her down to her knickers. Then, she vomited, and passed out once again.

Kol came to her in a dream that night… except, it wasn’t actually Kol. The dream guardian’s face was same, those piercing eyes so comforting and familiar, but there was something strange about the way he carried himself. She’d grabbed his hand, her subconscious state desperate to find comfort, and dream-Kol told her that he was here to protect her. He’d said she needed to embrace the potential of the parasite to save the fate of Faerun before telling her to wake and promising she would feel better in the morning.

The following morning — or was it the morning after that? Wren became more conscious of the fact that she couldn’t see out of either eye. She noted with panic that the right side was completely pitch black, but in the left she saw flashes of light and shadow. The ranger mentioned as much, choking back tears of fear and frustration, to a solemn Shadowheart. The Shar-worshipper had done nothing but hum in response and cover both Wren’s eyes with a cold, putrid-smelling salve.

Gale came by many times throughout the days to spoon feed her meals. Wren found she was never more thankful for Gale and his ramblings about Tara and Waterdeep than she was now. She was content to be the sounding board and let him chatter on excitedly, his loquacious nature making is so that she did not have to fill the silence. Between her meals, she fell into sweaty sleep, sometimes dreaming of Kol, sometimes dreaming of Astarion (where was he?), and sometimes having the strange sensation that she was experiencing one of her campmate’s current points of view as the tadpole wriggled in her brain.

In her fitful periods of a sleep, she saw Lae’zel brush strands of hair from a worn and desperate looking Shadowheart, tears in the cleric’s eyes. She saw Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch as hand's that must've been Gale's prepped oatmeal for breakfast. And she saw a locked cabinet flicked open by a pale, dexterous hand, the contents of that cabinet not revealed to her during her slumber.

“For the love of Shar, go in there, you absolute git. You’ve been pacing around here nearly an hour!”

“Oi mate, it’s time! Grow some bollocks.”

Wren woke in mid-afternoon light to three beings whispering urgently outside her tent. She found, with some relief, that her left eye had finally been released from its previous prison of two bulged eye sockets and she could see well enough to reacquaint herself with her surroundings. She desperately needed a bath, the smells of dried blood, stale sweat, and bile clung to her in thick wafts, and her hair had turned into a dried clump of tangles.

Suddenly, Astarion burst into the tent, a tensed coil of jittery energy, and Wren felt her body burn with embarrassment; she silently wished the feeling would ignite her and burst her into flames on the spot. The ranger woman was not particularly vain — spending long stretches of time in the wild without a mirror or civilization had that effect — but she knew she looked ghastly and smelled horrible. And Astarion, well… he looked as he always did, nearly flawless, though his face seemed more sunken, and his eyes were circled by blue-purple bags of sleeplessness.

“Hello, darling.” He murmured, still standing, fiddling with a small package of wrapped cloth in his hand. “I… well… this for you." He waved the package in his hand before crouching down and placing it in Wren's lap. "Shadowheart told me she had to dispose of your tunic, and I thought that perhaps you might appreciate being covered by more than your undergarments while everyone insists on making calls to your tent."

Wren took the package he offered quietly, still painfully aware of her appearance as she undid the jute string holding the plain cloth together. The dressings broke apart to reveal a beautiful azure chemise. The woman's vision was still blurred since she could only see out of the left eye, but she had enough eyesight to appreciate how beautiful — and expensive — the gift was. Her stomach sank with guilt… they weren’t exactly loaded with cash.

The half-elf stared down at the piece of clothing, her bruised and battered fingers running lines along the golden floral embroidery stitched across the hem of the square, flounced neckline. Wren almost laughed at the extravagance of the nightdress. In her past, she'd always favored practicality, which meant sleeping in the nude or a garment that was past its prime for daytime use... fancy stitching and dyes were altogether foreign. She sighed, “Thank you, Astarion… but I think... well, perhaps you should return it, it isn’t—“

“Return it!” Astarion cut in with a good-natured chortle, sides of his eyes crinkling with humor, his head tilted back to look at the ceiling. “Little bird… you want me to return it to the charred remains of Waukeen’s Rest? I won't hear another word of that ridiculous droll; I’m sure Counsellor Florrick won’t miss it a bit."

“Counsellor Florrick?”

Astarion waved his hand dismissively. “You’ve missed quite a bit, darling. We couldn’t very well stay here and be sitting ducks, so we split up to do our own scouting and gather information while you were under recovery. Karlach and I pulled some Counsellor out of a burning building yesterday -- well, really, as you can expect it was Karlach that did all the work -- and today I returned to pillage the remains. We’d spent most of our gold purchasing what Shar’s favorite cleric needed for your salves, you see, and I guess I took a note from your book. This was there.”

Wren sighed in both relief and frustration, thankful that her gift had not cost them any coin but upset with herself that her healing had drained them near-dry. She made to put her new nightdress on while he moved to place a long-fingered hand on her wrist.

“Ah, darling. Perhaps you should consider a bath before you dress.”

His tone was polite, but the implication made Wren’s face flush once again with embarrassment. All she could do was nod.

“Let me go get Shadowheart, then. Wait here, little bird.”

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The bath somehow turned into an a group affair. Everyone was excited to see their leader back on her own feet and to share the tales of adventure she’d missed in her dazed state. Wren found herself thankful to be covered in Astarion’s shirt, which he had taken off and thrust at her in a snap decision. Initially she’d refused, considering the offer far too intimate for their current relationship status (whatever that was) but he’d responded with a roll of his scarlet eyes and a huffy but convincing, “Your body is yours to show off or cover however you wish, darling, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As one would think, the bog wasn’t the best place to find clean water suitable for a bath. So, Gale and Wyll double-teamed the task of readying bathwater with a bit of spellcasting and transmutation practice. It was quite a clever and efficient affair. Gale would conjure water, Wyll would heat it, and then Karlach would haul the bucket over to Shadowheart who, unsurprisingly, treated bathtime as if it were a surgical procedure. Lae’zel and Astarion stood begrudgingly on either side of the cleric as she instructed them to hand her different sponges, soaps, combs, salves and bandages that she used on the ranger with a heavy hand. Wren was sat on a tree stump, utterly at the mercy of the Shar-lover, and forced to endure her as she scraped, scrubbed, primped, and primed... cleansing the ranger of all matter of filth and potentially a few layers of skin.

The little bird’s eyes kept wandering to Astarion when he turned to retrieve another item that Shadowheart requested of him. She noted, with a mix of quickly stifled horror and shock, that his back was covered in a large, raised scar. Wren’s mind wandered through her memories, and she noted that she hadn’t seen the vampire shirtless until now. Camp life held different rules when compared to society, and while the group was far from a nudist colony, it hadn’t been unusual to catch glimpses of barred torsos and legs among her counterparts. She now understood why Astarion always went hunting while everyone else bathed.

As she worked, Shadowheart revealed that she, Gale, and Wyll had managed to infiltrate the Goblin Camp and do some reconnaissance. The shar-worshipper laughed as she explained how she’d disguised herself as a drow and waltzed right in with their posse. She described the interaction they had at the entrance of the gate, spurred on by their tadpoles, and recollected every detail about the True Souls and where they were located within the temple. Unfortunately, no one had any further information about Halsin. To Wren's surprise, the gang had already killed one True Soul named Priestess Gut and tipped her body off of a cavern edge... astoundingly, this had been Gale's idea. The goblins noted Gut's absence but without any evidence of struggle or a body to be found, they'd shrugged it off as her usual leave of business.

“Gut!” Astarion had interjected with incredulity. “The goblin’s name was Gut. How ridiculous.” Which had made Wren burst into laughter that quickly made her wince and stifle herself to avoid further pain. The vampire responded her laughter with a small smile before Shadowheart barked another order his way and roped him back into the task at hand.

Wyll and Gale recalled with shock and horror the beating that Shadowheart willingly took from Abdirak in the name of Loviatar. Wren noted with surprise that Lae’zel lamented her inability to witness the cleric’s penance, since the Githyanki been forced to become Wren’s babysitter while everyone else had all the fun. Wren noted that the usual edge to the Lae'zel's voice had been replaced with a touch of excitement... or perhaps arousal. ‘Who would’ve guessed that one.’

As the last rays of sunlight flared across the sky in a beautiful, milky blend of pink and orange, Wren was finally declared clean and dressed in her new nightgown. The ranger’s right eye was covered with a patch, and her hair was lifted into a high ponytail with accent braids. It wasn’t a style she would usually pick for herself, but Shadowheart did seem to prefer high updos. The little bird went along with it, as she was in no position to refuse the bossy Shar-lover. Finally, she was escorted back to her tent by Gale, who informed her of his intent to bring dinner by shortly.

“Her arms and hands work, wizard! It’s just the right eye that doesn’t.” Astarion bristled as he donned his own shirt, which Wren had returned minutes prior. His eyes were narrowed at the human as he pushed his silver curls back and tightened the strings of his shirt.

Wren thanked Gale but informed him that she actually was not hungry and preferred to rest. The wizard, always good-natured and rather receptive, nodded and walked off toward Wyll, who poured them both a glass of wine as they waited for dinner to finish cooking. Slowly, the half-elf ducked into her tent, still adjusting to seeing through one eye and attempting to avoid any sudden movements sending her spinning. She turned to see the vampire watching as she entered her shelter and gestured for him to follow her. Her heart fluttered a beat as he obliged.

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“You really don’t remember what happened after you stabbed Gandrel in the eye?” Astarion asked, brow cocked with incredulity. “Darling, you were, by all accounts, amazing… and also quite terrifying.”

He recounted the events to Wren and watched as her eyes — well, eye — widened in shock and terror. A hush fell between them and Astarion whispered the next question, the one that had been on his and everyone else's mind for days.

“Wren... Who is Kol?”

Wren gasped and clasped freckled hands over her mouth but said nothing. The silence stretched between them again. Crickets and frogs sang outside the tent, highlighting the awkward bit of quiet that fell between rogue and ranger. But Astarion wouldn’t relent by moving past the question; he had am inexplicable, visceral need clawing at his psyche. He needed the answer more than he needed to drink blood.

“My husband.”

Time always moved at a strange pace for the vampire. Torture sessions seemed like they lasted decades and his few moments of relative freedom out on the streets of Baldur’s Gate lasted mere seconds. But in this moment, it felt as if the world stopped turning at all. Astarion noted that familiar sensation of nausea rising up again. 'Who knew freedom would cause as much sickness as captivity does.' The nausea flipped to outrage and his lips curled back, fangs bared, tongue ready to cut into the little bird when she continued through a shaky breath.

“He’s dead. I must’ve been calling for him when I was out of it.”

Astarion stopped his insults before they spilled out of his mouth. He was astonished but found he did not desire, in that moment, to hear further details. The revelation, mixed with the fact that he hadn’t hunted anything since Wren had let him bite into her several days prior, had been enough to give him a headache. The silence stretched between them again. To the rogue's surprise, he reached a pale hand to her freckled one and sighed.

“I suppose... well, I guess I’m sorry to hear that, little bird. Now let’s get you into bed. I have to turn in early as it is, I’ll be gone by first light. Shadowheart found some man named Volo at the Goblin Camp and needs me to break him out of his cell, for what, I have no earthly idea. It seems that even with you out of commission, I'll never get away from being forced to play the hero."

Wren's response surprised the vampire entirely. She deftly grabbed the flounced collar of his shirt and pulled him forward into a kiss, practically lunging to meet him. His cold lips crashed to her warm ones, the smell of berries and cinnamon eerily reminiscent of the moment they'd shared a few nights prior. Wren poured so much emotion into Astarion’s mouth, extracting an overwhelming wave of emotion from him, that all he could think to do was close his eyes and succumb to her kiss.

The half-elf woman's shaking, freckled hands drifted up to the vampire's face and then brushed along to pinna of his pointed ears, shocking a gasp from his mouth and the sudden rush of blood into his ears. In his previous encounters under Cazador’s control, he’d never crossed paths with someone that dared to perform such an intimate gesture on a one-night stand. She’d thrown him off script again and ignited a part of his psyche that had buried itself beneath layers of rote mechanics and one-liners for 200 years. The vampire grasped desperately at her forearm in response, silently urging her to touch him again, but froze in place when the little bird winced in pain and retracted from the kiss, pulling him out of the spell.

Astarion opened his eyes and gently pulled Wren’s hands away from his face; half of his heart regretted the action the moment he performed it, desperate to feel her warmth along his cheek once more. She was staring at him, cheeks flushed. She was a vision in the new nightdress he'd given her, and the new hairstyle Shadowheart had chosen for the ranger gave an enticing view of the neck and collarbone. The vampire stunned himself when he planted a soft kiss on Wren’s knuckle before placing her hands in her own lap. “Perhaps we should postpone more… athletic activities, little bird.” He murmured, offering her a raised eyebrow and a good-natured twinkle in his scarlet eyes to ease the sting of rejection. “After all, Shadowheart will have my head if I undo all her hard work. And I do believe her green guard dog would love any excuse to rip my neck out.”

This wasn’t a simple game anymore. Everything that had happened and everything she shared twisted his original plan of manipulation to feel much more… well, wrong. Part of him wished to go back to the time when he knew nothing of his marks apart from their desperation for his body. It had been astoundingly easy back then.

But Wren wasn’t an easy mark. Astarion was sure he could not compete with the ghost of her dear, dead husband. Surely, she would see his true colors and reject him in the end. And what was the point of exerting all that effort? He needed someone that would follow him blindly to Cazador.

“Goodnight, darling.” The pale elf whispered as he turned on his heel and stalked towards his tent, not waiting for a reply. He burst into his own shelter, desperate to be far away from the spell that little bird had him under and relieved of the painful straining within his trousers. What an idiot spawn he was, that the slightest brush against his ear had sent him into such a frenzied state. A few urgent tugs of his trousers to force them down and the vampire grasped desperately at his arousal. Astarion used his deft hand to stroke wantonly at his member, gasping as the release came. His head tilted back, he saw a flash of Wren’s scarred lip and freckled collar bone ripping through his mind as he rode the wave of his climax.

Either she was going to be his undoing, or he was going to be hers.

#astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x original female character #astarion x tav #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate tav #bg3 fanfic idea #bg3 fanfiction #slow burn #astarion smut #bg3 smut #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #smut #slow burn fanfic

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fleshdyke · 5 months

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hiii I need help with bird knowledge. if potentially I was writing a fic about cap with a sort of bird motif, do you have any specific species in mind? like to represent cap or. havers. or memory. any favorite bird imagery or metaphors I should include, I'd love your insight 💕✨

cardinals are the most common birds used as messengers for the dead/lost loved ones which i feel goes really well with cap and havers HOWEVER they are north american birds so i would put that lower on the list. robins can symbolize new beginnings and passion so i do like robins for havers BUT robins are kind of taken by robin already so maybe not. starlings symbolize togetherness and community which i really like for the ghosts as a whole if you want to somehow incorporate that. house sparrows can symbolize freedom and choice which i do really like for both of them. wrens are small but formidable and can outsmart birds several times their size, so you can use that for cap or havers overcoming homophobia in some way. tits are also used to symbolize hope and optimism if there's any part in the story that's got a hopeful feel ykwim. i cant find anything on collared doves or wood pigeons specifically but you can use basic dove symbolism of peace and love and purity here. so i really like wrens, house sparrows, and starlings for the whole group, and robins work well too - i chose common backyard birds here because of cap's established interest in them and also because they're small and abundant - they're everywhere and no one tends to notice them, but the world wouldn't turn without them :)

#asks

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bigmanfrog · 2 years

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I wanna talk about that chess scene in the s4v1 finale (spoilers for season 4 obviously)

stranger things has established a trope since season one of foreshadowing or mirroring plot events via dnd games, and i think that they may have done it again with the chess match between 001 and 011 so, obviously, i spent way too long researching it and thought i’d report on my findings.

first let’s talk about the plays we see happen. we see 001 playing as white, so he must have started and moved a few of his pawns forward by one space. 011 then moved a few pawns forward by two spaces, before moving her knight forward, which is taken by his bishop, which is then taken by one of her pawns, before the scene ends.

a couple of things of interest immediately come up here:

- 001 initiates play as white, perhaps taking control of the game and situation from the beginning, similar to what he is trying to do in real life

- 001 only moves his pawns forward by one space, while 011 moves all of hers by two spaces, and he doesn’t use a larger piece until after she does. this could be in reference to him letting her assume she has control over their dynamic and choices. 001 doesn’t want to push too far or reach too much for fear that he will lose trust or scare her, while 011 is very assertive and dominant when needed, not hesitating to stand her ground and meet him, but also actually daring to over step the middle ground (also seen briefly in the fight scene, the rainbow on the floor arcs away from her and towards him, almost as if she is pushing it towards him with force). she is also the one who introduces a larger piece, showing her daring and confidence in her level of back up, but also the vulnerability that she faces without that back up

- 001s immediate response to 011s knight is to take it using his bishop, which is then taken by an unused one of her pawns. her attempt and asserting dominance is immediately shut down by his capture, but she also fights back, takes the bishop (a very strong piece), using a pawn (smaller, weak and insignificant piece). this, to me at least, is the first big hint for the future as i think it suggests someone powerful (maybe her) coming into play to try and battle vecna (5 star general being represented by a bishop), but losing, before a weaker piece (one of the four, jon, one of the kids, etc) steps in and finishes him instead. this play also shows how unpredictable yet apparently calculated both players are, and i’m not implying that el dies, i am just saying she may lose at least the initial fight.

now onto the pieces and their birds:

the pawn (represented by the wren)

- pawns are seen as weak, helpless and disposable infantry or foot soldiers. they’re usually used as bait or a sacrifice for a bigger play, which is how brenner sees the subjects, but also how vecna treats his victims

- the wren is a small, carefree, peaceful bird that travels often and has strong family bonds. it represents rebirth, immortality and protection, and is a symbol of the arts. the family bond could represent either the family the main characters have found in each other or the family that brenner painstakingly tries to create. the immortality links to vecnas obsession with time and how trapping it is, but the protection could again be seen as sort of foreshadowing of a sacrificial death of someone viewed as insignificant or ‘weak’ and helpless

the knight (represented by the peregrine falcon)

- the knight was the highest medieval military rank, and is associated with protection and war. it is on equal footing with the bishop in terms of power and status, but it attacks, defends and jumps, being a very versatile piece with few limits. this could be a reference to 011 having to be a warrior and the protector (knight in shining armour) to the others

- the peregrine falcon symbolises ambition, aspiration, power, speed and freedom but also is viewed as a messenger between worlds and an omen to stay alert for possible dangers. this is interesting because it links to both 011s and 001s ability to communicate between worlds, and obviously is a reference to how 011 should be wary in this situation because 001 isn’t what he seems. the falcon is also pretty strongly associated with the egyptian god horus, the god of war, which adds to the idea of a ‘war’ in hawkins and also the idea of victory through various losses

bishop (represented by the horned owl)

- this bishop is on equal ground to the knight power wise (perhaps representing the mirroring of powers between 011 and 001) and represents religion, meaning it would’ve been in court for matters of conflict and next in line to the king and queen, suggesting ambition for power, or the fact that he is beneath brenner (the king) and has no control, as well as showing 001s lack of violence (until he deems it ‘safe’ or ‘necessary’)

- the horned owl is territorial, stealthy, intelligent and vigilant. when it is someone’s spirit animal, it is believed to teach how to protect and defend (similar to 001s intent with 011) and it is often associated with psychic abilities or connections with the heavens due to its ‘horns’ which are actually just feathers (this is similar to the falcon, reinforcing the idea of mirroring both players abilities to communicate between worlds and their power sets being matched). the horned owl is also believed to be able to ‘see into the shadow of our unconsciousness’ and reveal the ‘fears and secret desires that motivate us’ which is scarily similar to vecnas method of operations when murdering people

i love this show and think the foreshadowing in it is done extremely well. i may have looked too deep into it and this might’ve all been coincidental, but i think it’s cool either way. i also think it’s worth mentioning that the chess set used is the same chess set as blade runner, which is potentially just an easter egg but who knows at this point.

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strelles-universe · 1 year

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Clan Names - Seed Birds

Bird: Used by all clans equally. A small or bouncy cat, whimsical and flighty.

Blackbird: A ShadowClan or a ThunderClan name. An all black cat, somewhat rare because of length.

Bunting: Used by all clans equally. A vibrant or elaborately colored cat.

Cardinal: Primarily a ThunderClan or a ShadowClan name. A mostly or completely red cat, a cat with a black mask over their eyes, noticeable or obnoxious.

Chaffinch: Used by all clans. An odd colored kit, a kit who is blue and ginger.

Chickadee, Tit: Used by all clans equally. A distinctively marked kit, someone with round or soft features, gentle.

Crow: Primarily a WindClan or ShadowClan name. A mostly or completely black cat, one who is agitating, good at finding clues.

Cuckoo: Used by all clans equally. A gray furred cat with white flecks, a cat with very long legs; aggressive and bold.

Dove: Primarily a ThunderClan name. A round and soft featured cat, one who is elegant and social; beautiful.

Finch: Used by all clans but ShadowClan. A brightly colored cat, someone who is yellow or red; distinctive and bold.

Grouse: Primarily a WindClan or a ThunderClan name. A black and brown cat, someone who is speckled with brown.

Hen: Primarily a WindClan or ThunderClan name. A dapple furred cat, a tortoiseshell; motherly or provider.

Hummingbird: Used by all clans but ShadowClan. A small or runty cat, someone with boundless energy or vigor, a vibrantly colored cat.

Jackdaw: Used by all clans equally. A dark gray or dark blue cat, someone who is intelligent or clever.

Jay: Primarily a ThunderClan name. A blue or brown kit, someone who is striking; headstrong and aggressive, stubborn.

Lark: Primarily a WindClan or ThunderClan name. A brown and white cat, someone who is graceful or skillful.

Magpie: Used by all clans equally. A black and white cat, someone who is craft and aggressive, fearsome.

Nightingale: Primarily a ThunderClan name. A sandy or reddish brown cat, someone who is private or secretive.

Nightjar: Primarily a ShadowClan name. A mottled or brindle coated cat, one who is brown; still and stern, a common title for border guards.

Oriole: Primarily a ThunderClan and RiverClan name. A vibrant and dark-highlighted cat, particularly of a ginger and black coloring; striking or noticeable.

Partridge: Primarily a WindClan name. A pale gray or brown striped cat, someone with soft fur.

Pheasant: Used by all clans equally. A brown or red furred cat with a shiny coat, bold or show-boating.

Pigeon: Used by all clans equally. A gray and blue furred cat, someone who is adaptable.

Ptarmigan: A rare name. A cat who is small and round, soft furred or gentle.

Quail: Primarily a ThunderClan or a WindClan name. A brown and white cat, a spotted pelt cat, someone with distinctive ear tufts.

Raven: Used by all clans. A mostly or fully black cat, a cat who is intelligent and mysterious, a messenger of Moonsoul.

Robin: Primarily a ThunderClan name. A brown or tan furred cat, someone who is simultaneous average and common.

Rook: Primarily a WindClan or a ShadowClan name. A mostly or completely black furred cat, someone missing patches of fur, a clever cat.

Sparrow: Used by all clans equally. A brown and tan cat, small but determined; one who is loud or awakens early

Shrike: Used by all clans equally. A cat who is small and lanky, dangerous in battle.

Starling: Primarily a ThunderClan or New SkyClan name. A dark furred cat with a light speckled body, someone who talks or sings a lot, a gossiper.

Swallow: Primarily a RiverClan, ThunderClan or New SkyClan name. A vibrant or distinctively colored kit, someone sure-footed and skillful.

Thrush: Primarily a ThunderClan name. A brown and white cat, someone who is speckled in some way, loyal and devoted.

Warbler: Used by all clans equally. A vibrant yellow or golden furred kit, someone talkative and good singer.

Wagtail: Primarily a WindClan name. A black and white or a gray and white kit, someone who is talkative or smart.

Wren: Primarily a WindClan and ThunderClan name. A mostly or completely brown cat, someone who speaks and moves quickly.

#strelles au #strelles naming conventions #strelles worldbuilding #pride names and meaning #strelles the greenwood empire

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aainaalyaa · 4 years

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#Wren #Messengers #Fortune #Bird #Video

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wishicouldpostfromsecondaryblogs · 2 years

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Sandpiper's Crew!!

[Bird One]

Each leader of the Aves- all of the five and the various other members who've been assigned as such- have their own crew under their care. Apart from this, there are various members who work in the in-between routes and act as messengers or guides or informants, as well as those Aves that publicly criticize or sing or write books against the people in power. Some Aves just do continuous check-ups of the families Wren and Sandpiper have shifted and the safehouses and the spies positioned in court. Some others act as messengers between Caladrius and neutral groups of people, often non-human.

(Dijkstra has no idea about any of this. Sandpiper takes pains to look like an incompetent fool whenever he has to deal with the spymaster, and hasn't disclosed how big the movement has become. Even the members themselves don't know everyone else- the full length and breadth of the Aves' influence is known to Shani and Shani only.)

But!!! Much thanks to @zeebee823 and her amazing analysis of the birds, here's the first member of Sandpiper's crew, the ones who work in getting innocent families out of the line of fire:

[Codename: Nightingale; Real name: Marzanna]- She's a half-elf ex-student of Jaskier's, and was the first person to sign up with the Aves.

She'd just set out as a bard before the fighting broke out, and got rescued from a prison camp when the Five (on their first mission and Panicking) stormed it and knocked out all the guards. She took one look at her batshit insane role model of a teacher and insisted on joining immediately.

She got her codename mostly because of her love and talent for reed instruments and her complex whistling tunes. Said whistles are used to alert her crew about guards, backup, blockages, or if she sees a particularly hot person nearby.

Nightingale prefers the charges who aren't overly scared or hesitant so she can move faster and double back for her crew. She'll often leave booby traps and weapons beforehand along the way for everyone, just in case things go tits up.

Fiercely dedicated to her old teachers and the cause; will kill if needed, although usually Sandpiper or Black Heron will step in for that because in their eyes She Is A Child. Nightingale is twenty-three.

She has a few daggers, like everyone, but mostly she has a lot of rope. Whether it's for scaling walls or trees or throwing bolases at cart wheels or keeping unconscious guards secured or having a good time, Nightingale always has rope.

She's bold about everything in life except her poetic works- Nightingale doesn't share them very often, but when she does recite them, she often reduces everyone to tears.

#the aves #nightingale #the witcher #jaskier #sandpiper #shani #caladrius #black heron #sigismund dijkstra #worldbuilding #marzanna

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gammagoop · 3 years

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headcanon that each empire has its own kind of messenger bird

obviously rivendale has snowy owls and mythland has ravens, those are pretty much canon, but what about the other empires?

the lost empire: parrots, of course! with the jungle, and joey’s parrot wings, messages are sent across the lands on colorful feathers

grimlands: turkey vultures. perfectly spooky

ocean kingdom: petrals, very dexterous birds who have no problem with flying over miles of ocean

pixandria: mourning doves. a common and respected bird in pixandrian culture

house blossom: kestrels! small and sweet birds who live well in grasslands with lots of space to fly

the cod empire: kingfishers, common and trustworthy birds. also jimmy likes them

crystal cliffs: swallows, they can nest in cliffs and are quite upstanding birds

the undergrove: wrens! they live well in marshes

pearl’s empire: quails! nice farm birds

mezalea: falcons! can survive in lots of environments and travel large distances, though they unfortunately dont fare well over large expanses of ocean

edit: i havent watched shubble yet, so i didnt know, but apparently she has woodpeckers in canon!

#empires smp headcanons #empires smp #masontalking

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imkylotrash · 3 years

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The Art Of Starting Over (Chapter 6)

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader, Andreas x reader

Summary: It's time to fight back.

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle @baueoud @glowingatdawn @shadowhuntyi @alice-the-nerd

A/N This is very much a filler with some background info, but I promise the next chapter will have plenty of drama and angst. It will also be the final chapter ✨

"A pleasure to meet you. I've heard nothing about you." You roll your eyes at the spiteful comment hoping he won't keep this up for the entirety of your stay. Saul extends his hand, but you're quick to push it back down.

"Cormac isn't a fan of touching," you say never breaking eye contact with him. He's mulling over the entire situation in his head, and you have no idea which way he'll sway.

"Come in. I was just making some tea." You follow him inside taking a seat at the large wooden dining table. Nothing's changed in here, it's like stepping into the past. There's a wall with shelves filled with different herbs that you're already itching to check out. You've always loved nature and the many medical advantages it offers if you know what you're doing - plus Saul has that cut that could use a nice paste of herbs.

"How much of our history have you shared?" You hate the calm, sickly sweet version of Cormac because it means he's angry. He's angry you've brought a stranger into his home, and he's angry you're here in the first place. An apology would do his mood wonders but even after all this time, you don't feel like you were in the wrong back then.

"Only the beginning."

"And yet, the ending is much more interesting." Saul keeps quiet through all of this, and you're thankful he's so good at picking up the mood. He takes your hand under the table though to offer some silent support, and you give his hand a little squeeze to let him know you appreciate it.

"People needed our help. You didn't want to leave this house, I thought you were wrong." The village that had sent you to inspect the animals were overrun by pillagers and when you had told Cormac, he'd simply shrugged and continued whatever he was doing. You couldn't remember the exact details but bottom line, Cormac had refused to help innocent and defenceless people because he didn't want to risk giving away the location of his home, and while you'd called him every name in the book, he still refused to go. It was humanity at its worse, and Cormac Wren couldn't be bothered.

"I remember it a little more complicated than that." He puts down three mugs on the table filled to the brim with green herbal tea. You're not exactly surprised when he fishes out a flask and adds a little spice to his own.

"You told me if I left, I shouldn't ever come back. It wasn't all that complicated." You're struggling to see what he's trying to get at, but he doesn't let you wonder too long.

"I also once said I didn't like cocoa which is foolish. Everyone loves cocoa."

"I hate cocoa," Saul chips in lightening the mood. Even Cormac can't hide the little smile. It's clear that Cormac is trying to read Saul, but he seems pleased so far.

"What I meant is that things said in anger shouldn't be taken seriously. I never meant you couldn't return." And just like that, he's back to being your mentor. It's hard being back here and hold onto anger towards him, but you also know that you can't let yourself hope that he'll help this time. It'll only lead to disappointment, and you can't allow any sort of distractions.

"I'm sorry I left things the way I did." You're still clutching onto Saul's hand under the table loving the feeling of his touch. It's been days since you've had time for anything even remotely resembling intimacy, and you have a feeling it'll be a while before you'll have a moment to yourselves.

"Water under the bridge. What's the plan?"

"I'm not asking for your help. We needed a place to stay while we figured out our next move."

"I know you're not asking. I'm offering," Cormac says much to both Saul and your surprise. He may not look different, but he's definitely had a change of heart.

"We'll need support from the other realms. Maybe you can reach out to them?" Cormac nods waving his hand and immediately, a bird lands next to him. He whispers in its ear before sending it off.

"Done." It's a call to arms, and you can only hope they'll respond.

"We'll need a plan of attack as well. It's pointless to have help if we don't know what to do once we reach Alfea," Saul says. This is the part where all his training and experience as a soldier becomes relevant. You know he'll be able to come up with a plan better than any of you.

"Do you have something I can draw on?" he asks Cormac who's quick to provide. You're not entirely sure why he's decided to help, but you're not about to question his motives. You need him on your side.

"This is Alfea, and here's the barrier..." You get lost in Saul's explanations as he contemplates a plan of attack. He'll say one thing the first minute, and then he'll change his mind only seconds after. But he knows the school like no other, and he has an incentive to make the perfect plan.

"We'll need to reach out to Farah and Ben too," you say looking over at Cormac. You furrow your brows in confusion when he doesn't summon another messenger bird.

"Oh, I thought you knew."

"Knew what?" By the look on his face, you can tell it's something you don't want to know.

"Farah's dead."

#winx saul silva #saul silva imagine #saul silva blurb #saul silva x reader #saul silva #winx club #winx netflix #fate netflix #fate the winx saga #fate winx club #fate #ftws #fate winx

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whirlibird · 3 years

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You tag as 'birds are the best' but WHICH birds is bestest

ALL OF THEM....................but in terms of personal favourites it changes from day to day depending on what bird i have most recently seen. here is a list of top 10s in no order from the top of my head

hummingbirds are definitely up there on account of being sparkly and tiny as fuck, and sometimes having pants. eat only nectar and have metabolisms so high they have to go into hibernation every night just to survive?? living on the edge???? the only bird capable of hovering and flying backwards.

peregrine falcons bc they are the fastest living creature and i love an overachiever. last time i checked the record was like 360km/ph on a dive, but they regularly reach 320. they also live in urban areas! which is very cool! one point against them is that their main prey is other birds so if i look up videos of them its usually to see them tearing apart a poor sweet pigeon. such is nature.

albatrosses are so well designed. perfect gliders. the wing ratio that lets them glide forever and never have to touch down. a creature optimized for sky life and hilariously clumsy at living on the ground. they mate for life! a romantic! and also, very good mythos around them from sailors. see: The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

kakapo. looks like a moldy potato. one humped david attenborough’s head. flightless and innocent due to their habitat having no predators for eons and then humans brought invasive species along.

cockatiels with their little blushies and their cool crest and sweet singing voices. big ol eyes. so soulful.

willie wagtails are very small with a tail almost as big as they are. well named because they sure do wag those tails. rude little bastards with a big frown and like to attack other birds. admirable chutzpah, slightly ruined when they keep attacking their own reflection in windows. native to where i live so i love to see the little guys bobbing along.

chickens for so many reasons. did you know if you hold a chicken aloft and then gently spin it in a circle, its head will remain in the same place while its body rotates? a very cute gyroscope. most birds are capable of this, but most birds also arent domesticated enough to tolerate this behaviour.

shrikes are a classic bird, capable of stabbing their food and saving it for later. i admire their ability for forward planning, a trait i do not possess. the vlad dracul of birds. however i will take a point away for butcherbirds (australian shrikes) being a personal inconvenience to me back in the time when i kept budgies. butcherbirds are capable of groupwork and use this for evil, i.e. working in tandem with another butcherbird to scare the budgies into clinging onto one side of the cage so that the other butcherbird can skewer them.

another aussie bird, superb fairy wrens. look them up on google for the most stunning shade of blue. the pictures dont show it well but the blue is iridescent as well! this is only on the male birds, who need to be pretty to impress their harems. a thot! ive got a few living near my house, and i often see them flitting around. they are very small and cute.

last but not least, the common pigeon. again a domesticated bird, so we’ve known them for so long! we know so much about them, which means there is so much to love! war heroes. messengers. racers. an illustrious history. tenacious despite our lack of care towards them. my favourite part of going to the queensland agricultural exhibition is seeing the show pigeons! so much variation! so curly! such elegance! they were also used as the subject of some of B.F. Skinner’s operant conditioning studies! they are heroes of scientific progress! he taught em how to play ping pong. sporty AND smart.

honorary mentions: the superb bird of paradise (dances like an umbrella, confused many naturalists), red crowned crane (lovely mythos, elegant), secretary bird (big steppy), magpies (cool nursery rhyme, can recognize themselves in mirrors), crows (clever and have a sense of honor), flamingoes (hehe shrimp time), bowerbirds (architects), lammergeiers (incredibly metal aesthetic), cuckoos (an icon of neglectful parenting), the common australian seagull (bastards, also i saw one standing on another one’s head once), lyrebirds (incredible vocal mimicry), budgies (theyre just babey)

anyway yeah birds are the best,

#BIRDS ARE THE BEST #THANK YOU FOR ASKING ABOUT BIRDS. THEY ARE GOOD #phoenixyfriend #asks

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the-orion-inexpirience · 1 month

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I'm working on smth fun but does anyone wanna know anything about any of my One piece OCs?

(my inbox is open😸)

#one piece #one piece ocs #one piece original character #one piece oc #ocs #op ocs #op oc #electra #stagestar electra #Constantine #cursed healer Constantine #acid shark Cyrus #cyrus #wren #messenger bird Wren

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halloweennut · 3 years

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Sorry for the bad quality hshsbs the lighting in my room sucks but

Tis the Season for Jack and Sally fan kids because I have no self control.

Eldest: Scarrise

Seems to be on top of her life, but honestly is having big doubts about her spot as heir. Confused by pretty girls (Rose doesn't cross paths until later but yeah). Strongest scarer of the three, loves her little sisters and the shenanigans they get into.

Middle: Gnat (Gnatalie)

Jack's daughter through and through. Dramatic af. Mad scientist, and the only one who gets vaguely along with Dr. Finklestein. Big crush on the Mayor's Gargoyle Assistant, best friend is a goth cherub from Valentine's Day.

Youngest: Wren

(Based off an old oc gshwh) Definitely more like Sally. A little skittish, but always bounces back with a grin. Loves helping her sister, dad, and the mayor with Halloween. Her pet raven is named Mephistophles and he often acts as a messenger and a bird to talk to. Is usually the one being scooped up by literally everyone in her family because smol. Basically? Baby. But still a Jack and Sally kiddo, just has some growing to do is all.

(Human: Rose

A human Scarrise meets on an adventure. Sweetheart who doesn't mind scary things, even enjoys them)

#the nightmare before christmas #tnbc #jack and sally fan kids

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emcon-ocs · 2 years

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D&D Class OC Meme

Rules: [ [ doesn’t apply / sometimes applies / always applies ] ]

I was tagged by @deliahscrush2003!!! Thank you so much for tagging me!!

Willow Wren (MCU)

𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙰𝙽 » toothy grins, stories around the campfire, clothes covered in pet hair, hot temper, old jeans, heartbeat in head, potatoes and steak, beaded jewellery, bruises like galaxies, mementos, backpack stuffed full, craigslist furniture, spontaneous road trips, air ripped from lungs

𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙳 » homemade bread, white lies, easily excited, trying on hats, band geek, pep talks, no impulse control, sunsets, vintage fashion, long showers, selfies, following dreams, rosy cheeks, song mash-ups, pink lemonade with tequila, loves easily, animated storyteller, full of comebacks

𝙲𝙻𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙲 » list of wishes, biting their tongue, band-aids and neosporin, shoulder to cry on, morning sun, necklaces, trial and error, homemade quilts, formal clothing, astrology fan, messages in bottles, pleated braids, speaking up for friends, feathers, motivational quotes, vivid dreams

𝙳𝚁𝚄𝙸𝙳 » bird watching, shy kid, wind chimes, trying to whistle, summer camp, apple orchards, lost in their head, glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, hoodies, thrift shopping, saving worms off the sidewalk, pig latin, bare feet, thunderstorms, numb fingers, braided hair, naming potted plants

𝙵𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝚁 » goosebumps, leather jackets, adventure, chewing nails, cares deeply but can’t show it, bronze locks, no sleep, taste of iron, netflix binges, never forgets, combat boots, stories behind scars, table for one, official soundtracks, sore calves, trusts themselves the most

𝙼𝙾𝙽𝙺 » always trying to be better, wanderlust, meditation, sweat pants, old photographs, yoga, sleeping in hammocks, nostalgia, minimalist design, a breath of fresh air, baby animals, volunteering, perfectionist, doesn’t care about fashion, healthy snacks, noticing the little things

𝙿𝙰𝙻𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽 » school uniforms, thick jackets, sleeping with the windows open, logical advice, scrapbooking, compasses, i fight for my friends, sculpture gardens, cold morning air, big soul, likes routine, secret romantic, last to get jokes, sunflowers, practical presents, misty weather

𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁 » herbal tea, smell of rain, blinking away tears, camping trips, collecting bones, swiss army knives, first impressions, anxious thoughts, bobby pins, burnt marshmallows, too competitive, clothes lines, messenger bags, holding grudges, gets along better with animals than people

𝚁𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴 » flirtatious sarcasm, candid photos, lost phone chargers, adrenaline rush, picking dirt out from beneath their nails, social chameleon, clashing clothes, self-deprecating jokes, claw machines, sits in chairs wrong, smudged eyeliner, has too many sunglasses, eats nothing or everything

𝚂𝙾𝚁𝙲𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚁 » infectious laugh, family trees, shivers down their spine, lipstick and roses, mood swings, clumsy, believing in destiny, high expectations, sleeping in darkness, collection of nail polish, passionate, good grades but never studies, poetry books, blowing kisses, not knowing their own strength

𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺 » knowing everyone’s secrets, backpack covered in pins, envy, being in walmart late at night, earl grey, selective memory, conspiracy theories and cryptids, key smashing, need to know basis, can’t cook, bags under eyes, experimental art, flickering bulbs, black clothing all year long

𝚆𝙸𝚉𝙰𝚁𝙳 » piles of textbooks, cat in lap, keeping a diary, indecision, scented candles, studying alone in a café, lingering touches, museum dates, unanswered questions, taking on too much responsibility, collections, chalk dust, comfy robes, unnecessary apologies, coming home after a long day

WILLOW WREN: FIGHTER

I’m tagging @tiannas-ocs @eddysocs @jinxsflame and @randomestfandoms-ocs !

#bat out of hell #willow wren

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nimblermortal · 3 years

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Here is my list of things I flagged in RotT for review after I finished. Several of them I still don’t have answers for. Bolded the ones that I still mostly don’t have answers for.

1. (p.28) Who is the person sitting in plain clothes next to Eddis, when Pheris goes under the table? (I suspect it is the minister of war, but that’s just because it’s my only guess. With an aside of ‘he mentions Cleon and a trial, so it’s an Eddisian, and the MoW is the only Eddisian we really know about.’)

2. (p.36) Who is the minor goddess whose altar Eugenides stops to prostrate himself at? (I want to say Alyta, but Eugenides doesn’t have any reason to find her significant at this time.)

3. (p.38) Which baron gives Eugenides the pomegranate? Is it important later? (Dunno, and no.)

4. (p.40) What’s going to be significant about the statues? (Nothing - that was explained in TaT, and I didn’t realize the timelines of the books overlapped until Costis and Kamet appeared. I did want to reread TaT for that last section, though, and see if Pheris was mentioned.) (UPDATE: He was, and you can see a couple of scenes from Kamet’s point of view.)

5. (p.75) What’s up with... I think it was the die Medander was carving. But in retrospect I think this whole passage was just Affairs at Court that Pheris Doesn’t Understand.

6. (p.76) Clopius died trying to protect the king after the ambush at the roadside tomb. Just marked this one for review in context. In retrospect, there’s enough death in this book that Clopius is not significant.

7. (p98) What naval battle at Hemsha? What happened to the lemon trees? (Don’t know, and time - nothing really explains what happened to either of these things, and the war doesn’t penetrate this far into the kingdom.) (UPDATE: Nimblermortal is terrible at names and forgot that Hemsha is where the Mede’s navy was destroyed.

8. (p.124) I no longer remember why I marked this tab, but likely just as a who’s who reference. I did get fairly bogged down in the rotation of names, but there’s also a glossary in the back. Kind of MWT to provide names for starveling fanfic writers?

9. (p.141) “Galleys racing to a ship in the middle of the harbor” - this was just a note to reread TaT.

10. (p.144) The “it’s a pigeon, not a bird” scene. I could swear I had seen something like this happen before, possibly in a previous book. It is peak MWT humor, like when Gen and Costis share the joke about “what if I had asked about fertilizer”. (UPDATE: Yes, it’s in TaT.)

11. (p.147) Relius is a cartographer. I wanted to compare this to the maps in TaT. (Also, where is Roa? Also, who were these maps made for, now that I know Eugenia’s name?) (Roa is an even smaller peninsula just east of the Little Peninsula. Size dependent on the map. In TaT, the book cover map is made for Gitta Kingsdaughter by her tutor Tykus Namikus; the end map is made for “P” (Pheris) by “K” (Kamet), and is given along with a compliment on his improved handwriting. Full note: P - I have received your letter of last month. Your handwriting has greatly improved. I am sorry that the archivist would not let you look at the map of the Empire. I am sure that when your tutor returns he will allow it. I have made this map in haste to give to the messenger who leaves today. I will hope you have already seen a better one by the time it reaches you. All of these events exist in RotT.)

12. (p.230) Possibly, “What is it that the MoW said to the magus to make him laugh [about Eddis and Sounis being mushy together, after discussing their rushed marriage so no one could object to the politics]?”

13. (p.236) When Fordad is thinking about Gen offering the Attolian Skies for the ships. (Which, incidentally, is an entertaining bit of metaphor. Both that he offers the skies of Attolia, and that he offers Attolia’s skies - the air above her, and not a particle of soil.) Don’t remember what I was curious about at that point, but after reading, I’m curious about what the gems he gave actually were, and where they came from. Maybe they came off Eugenides’s altar, and if so, maybe they were politically important gems. But then again, maybe not. He seems to imply later that they were not.

14. (p.328) Who is the man who stands by the stones, such that the king pulls up and the bomb... catches him? Does not catch him? It’s a supernatural event, but lord, there’s enough supernatural in this book that it’s hard to say who’s playing where.

15. (p.372) What is the pattern that Pheris sees in stones, wren feather, Xikos’s cufflink that he stole, and Sejanus’s ring that he was given? hate, fear, revenge, remorse? -- oh. Exactly that. It’s not about Sejanus, whether he is guilty or what to do about him, but about Gen. That’s when Pheris sees that taking revenge on the conspirators will destroy Gen as both a person and a king.

#Return of the Thief #queen's thief series #it's entertaining that the later the marker is in the book - i.e. the more recently I read it - the less clue I have #of why I marked that page #also entertaining that you can sort of mark where I started and stopped reading #and what my mood was #by the distribution of these notes

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nightwingshero · 4 years

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OC D&D Class

I was tagged by @pd3 @deathvalleyqueen and @trialandseed thank you, darlings!

Tagging: @tomexraider @risenlucifer @faithchel @kingmaking @abosaa @xbaebsae @deputycolt @smithandrogers @ja-crispea @dieguzguz @spicevalleys @red-nightskies

Wren Blake

𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙰𝙽 » toothy grins, stories around the campfire, clothes covered in pet hair, hot temper, old jeans, heartbeat in head, potatoes and steak, beaded jewelery, bruises like galaxies, mementos, backpack stuffed full, craigslist furniture, spontaneous road trips, air ripped from lungs