#pix talks real life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

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

Fun Fact

After the announcement of the deal with Yahoo!, there were 170K signatures of unhappy Tumblr users petitioning to prevent the sale in 2013.

#pix talks real life

pixiedustandbluebutterflies · 8 months

Note

hi, you mentioned in a post accessible sports like rock climbing, i am wondering if rock climbing can be wheelchair accessible? asking because i have wondered for a long time if everything in the sims 4 could be made wheelchair accessible if they added wheelchairs and i could never figure out rock climbing.

Hello!! Yes most sports can be made accessible for wheelchair users. Honestly I haven't found one yet that can't! I work for a nonprofit that organizes events for children who use mobility equipment and we do all sorts of sports: sled hockey, waterskiing, downhill snow skiing, sailing, indoor skydiving, ziplining, kayaking, horseback riding, swimming, baseball, basketball, golf, self defense/karate, archery, even ballet!

This is the first time we're doing the ropes course and rock climbing. From what we've seen of the rock climbing, the wheelchair user is in a sling and they are repelled up the wall. They are able to decide how much work they want to personally do, or how much they are capable. This allows any person - no matter their upper body strength - to have the opportunity!

The ropes course is built so that one side has planks that the wheelchair user goes on with all the same obstacles to move out of their way and maneuver around as a typical ropes course.

So yea all it takes is some creativity and people saying HECK YES LET'S DO IT! And the world could be a MUCH more accessible and inclusive space. The kids I work with every day prove that all they need is someone giving them the opportunity.

#pix talks real life #disability #disability resources #inclusion #accessibility #adaptive sports

11 notes · View notes

burning-idiot · 7 months

Text

So I’m currently sick and feel like crap so I’m gonna spit out some random TLNM headcanons.

- Kai is captain of the lacrosse team and he’s suuuper popular in school. He used to be more popular before becoming friends with Lloyd, but still popular when he’s not around lloyd

- Nya isn’t quite as popular as her brother but she’s still popular. Also known as the “cool edgy kid” - a lot of people think her and Cole are dating.

- Cole is super quiet, always has his headphones on, and most people think he’s a delinquent. (He is, as he sm0kes underage, but people don’t know that)

- Reason he always has his headphones on is bc he gets overwhelmed by the noise of all the people. Music helps calm him down. (Also, it keeps people from trying to talk to him)

- Jay is a band kid. You can’t change my mind on this. He plays trumpet and is actually pretty good, so he plays in the jazz band and stuff. (I’m an orchestra kid and have no idea what I’m talking about)

- Jay’s orange scarf was a gift from his birth parents. It’s one of the only thing he has to remember them by, and he’s super attached to it.

- Zane is freakishly tall. You can always see him in the hallway and he stands out (I mean hello, he has white hair)

- Pixal is part of the friend group and lives with Dr. Borg, her maker. People don’t know that she’s a robot as she has a pretty good human disguise and understands people better than Zane does

- Pixal goes by “Pix” in school

- Zane and Pixal are valedictorians of their grade and often jokingly beef over it

- Zane also spends almost all of his time at school. Anyone texts the gc saying “anyone still at school?” And Zane will always be there, usually in the library.

- speaking of Zane, he lives with his maker, Dr. Julien, and was homeschooled most of his life up until highschool, when Dr. Julien decided he needed real social interaction and enrolled him

- Nya and Kai live with their parents Ray and Maya, but they’re not home often, usually working or jobhunting. Their dad has trouble keeping a job.

- due to this, Kai and Nya usually spend most of their time afterschool at school, too, both being on sports teams. (Nya plays volleyball)

- Jay lives on the very outskirts of ninjago city and is driven to school by his parents every day

- Lloyd spends most of his time either at home or with his friends, seeing that he has no where else to go where people won’t hate him

- Tried joining almost every club to find acceptance, but the second he joined everyone else quit, so he eventually gave up

- There’s probably a thing at school called “The Garmadon Touch” that’s similar to the Cheese Touch from Diary of a Whimpy Kid. All of Lloyd’s friends have the Garmadon Touch and are very proud of it

- Cole, Nya, and Kai protect Lloyd (and the others) from bullies

Ok that’s it thanks byeee

#ninjago #ninjago headcanons #ninjago Kai #njnjago Cole #ninjago jay #ninjago lloyd #ninjago zane #ninjago nya #the lego ninjago movie #tlnm #tlnm headcanons

113 notes · View notes

blicketdabest33 · 4 months

Text

FINAL CABIN PLACEMENTS I DON'T WANT TO EDIT IT AFTER THIS

So many of y'all had so many good ideas (and since a lot of these i came up with without any real reasoning) here's my updated version that i think fits A LOT better

#1 Zeus Cabin: Jimmy, Joel Jimmy: He's a Zeus kid, but everyone somehow forgets about it. Joel: He's competitive and strong. Also, because Jimmy is his half brother through godly parent, i get to make a fun bit about him dating Lizzie. And one of his origins in Afterlife SMP was a thunderborn

#2 Hera Cabin: Scott, Impulse, Ren Scott: Scott's whole thing is loyalty. Hera is the goddess of marriage and is insanely loyal to Zeus. However, I feel like Hera should get at least one affair. So now Scott can use peacocks as weapons. Impulse: According to @dawnfire7 Impulse is known for loyalty, which i did not know. He's also known to hold grudges. Perfect Hera kid. Ren: He's apparently known for loyalty (and i didn't really like his Nike placement anyway)

#3 Poseidon Cabin: XB XB: Something about water temple guardians

#4 Demeter Cabin: Sausage, Shelby, Bdubs, Stress Sausage: This man built Sanctuary in a jungle and has flowers in his hair. He sells wood. There is no other place to put him. Shelby: Mushroom gnome, spooky mangrove witch, powerful storm witch, i need not continue. Bdubs: Moss man. Stress: SHE HAS FLOWERS

#5 Ares Cabin: Martyn, False Martyn: His planet is Mars, which is the roman version of Ares. He ended Limited Life in such a violent way, i can't help it. He was also red for the majority of Secret Life. False: I just feel like False should get to kill people more often.

#6 Athena Cabin: Grian, Pix, Owen, Xisuma Grian: This sums it up pretty well

Pix: Smart man. Archeologist and definitely a nerd. I wanna see him skipping out on training just so he can read history books. Owen: He likes to explore and discover new things in Pirates. In Rats, he's a tinkerer. In New Life, he's an explorer who wants to study hybrids. In Empires, he's a Llama who's curious about how humans work. Just a very curious character overall. Xisuma: Admin. I'm not elaborating.

#7 Apollo Cabin: Oli, Lyarrah Oli: MUSIC. MAN. Lyarrah: She writes the captions for the hermitcraft recap.

#8 Artemis Cabin: Pearl, Gem Pearl: Y'know, Artemis could've just like... had a kid, even though she took that oath. It wouldn't even have to be with a guy. Gods can change to whatever gender they want. Anyway, Pearl gets to be an Artemis kid because her symbolism is moon, she loves dogs, and will commit murder and hunt at night. Gem: Someone really wanted these girls to be sisters, and I think Gem and pearl should get to hunt at night and be fierce together. Oh, and she's got the whole deer aesthetic.

#9 Hephaestus Cabin: Doc, Mumbo, Tango, Zedaph, Fwhip, Iskall Doc: Redstone Mumbo: Redstone Tango: Redstone Zedaph: Redstone Fwhip: Redstone AND has a red scarf (don't ask me how that's relevant) Iskall: Redstone

#10 Aphrodite Cabin: Keralis, Skizz, Bigb Keralis: Okay, I don't know why, but Keralis gives me the vibes of a very charming person. His voice is nice to listen to, so imagine how useful it'd be if I gave him charm speak. Skizz: Person in the tags said he was really charming and you can't help but love him. I agree. He's here now. Bigb: Smooth talker. Someone (i think it was Scott) said in one of their videos "It's hard to kill him while he's talking". Charmspeak. Ma man, go do chaos.

#11 Hermes Cabin: Scar, Etho, Joe Scar: Trader Scar, scammer extraordinar. Etho: All i must say is Shady-E's. I get "jack-of-all-trades, master of none, often better than master of one" vibes from him. He's funny, he's mischievous, it just works. Joe: Comedy man. Excellent delivery. And, yet again, i look at this man and go "That right there is a multi-talented man with a habit for mischief."

#12 Dionysus Cabin: Joey, Beef, Cub Joey: *points at his season one empires theme* i need not say more Beef: Idk, food. I don't really have a reason. I don't know too much about Beef. Cub: Someone said Cub was really laid back, i liked this idea, he's here now. C'mon, go make ur empire.

#13 Hades Cabin: Zloy Zloy: Zombie man. He writes the Hermitcraft recaps in the dark at 2am with nothing but pure spite.

#14 Iris Cabin: Katherine Katherine: SHE. HAS. COLORS. and also I couldn't put her in Demeter cabin because Shelby is already there and i am NOT excluding Nature Wives from this au

#15 Hypnos Cabin: Wels Wels: @dingdinghq said something about sleeping during S6 and i completely agree

#16 Nemesis Cabin:

#17 Nike Cabin:

#18 Hebe Cabin:

#19 Tyche Cabin: TFC TFC: Man goes mining and gets really lucky. That's it.

#20 Hecate Cabin: Lizzie, Cleo, Jevin Lizzie: Witchy vibes. Also, Arson. Cleo: Arson. She uses her magic for Arson. Jevin: He's a magic slime. Also, Arson. All Hecate kids love Arson.

65 notes · View notes

thetomorrowshow · 6 months

Text

knowing what the cards were

hi besties enjoy (or scream at me)

cw: past major character death (and mourning thereof), violence, blood

There's a pond in Rivendell, down the face of the mountain a little ways, right in the thick of the pine trees that grow all the way down the side. It's far enough away from the main city (and any outlying buildings) that likely few have ever even seen the pond, a place too insignificant to be worthy of any sort of attention. Despite this, the pond and its surrounding trees have always been a beautiful, peaceful location. The pond has only ever had the clearest water, carried down through a small stream from the melting snow of the high peaks.

Now, in the dark of night, water skimmers skate along the surface; a couple of frogs sit on rocks at the edge. Otherwise, there's no sign of life. No fish, no creatures poking through the trees to find a drink here.

The pond is a small, unseen place of tranquility, particularly at this before-sunrise hour, when even the owls are sleeping in their nests. The night is still, the forest silent, and the pond a dark reflection of all the unheard and unseen.

And Scott, sneaking out of his bedroom window like a guilty teenager, goes to it.

He had discovered the pond in his youth, a quiet hideaway from his brother and his parents and all their politics. He hadn't gone there frequently, only when everything really became too much and he had to get out before he exploded.

The pond had always had a calming effect, apart from the real world, a tiny piece of grace and solitude.

He chooses it now as the place not for its seclusion, nor its beauty, but for its lack of living creatures.

He doesn't know what's going to happen when he uses the artifacts.

Again, Alinar had been frustratingly vague on how to use the artifacts. There'd been something about magic, and something else about learning how the artifacts interact with him, so Scott hopes that using them before facing Xornoth in battle will be all right. He doesn't really understand what it means when it talks about interacting with him, but a test run never hurt anyone.

He already sent Gem the instructions (recipe? Scott really doesn't know a lot about magical terms) for the crystal that they need to trap Xornoth. She and Katherine are going to be working together on that, as far as he knows. Lizzie and Joel are occupied with the war. Pix has been out of contact for weeks. Pearl is maintaining neutrality. Shelby hasn't responded lately.

So it's up to Scott to execute the rest of the plan, not sure who he can even turn to for support in this. After all, only the Champion of Aeor can unite and use the artifacts to trap Xornoth in the crystal.

Scott lands carefully on the mossy ground beside the pond, wings drawing up behind him. The moon has disappeared beyond the mountain, but the sun hasn't yet begun to rise. Perfect time for experimental magic.

Scott pulls his Cod-woven bag off his shoulder and sets it down on the moss, leaning it against a small boulder, then slips off his soft shoes and sets them neatly beside it.

He doesn't much care for the feeling of damp moss under his socked toes, but a glance at the grass to his left tells him that it would be infinitely worse (and far more wet) to stand there.

Should he even be wearing socks when he puts the boots on? Will that ruin the . . . magical connection, or something?

Scott strips off his socks and stuffs them in his shoes, just in case. Then he unlatches his bag and pulls out the boots, which he sets atop the small boulder.

They glow, he realizes, the runes casting a very dim blue light over the leather and stone beneath. Scott stares at the glow for a moment, surely only bright enough to discern due to the almost non-existent light cast by the stars above, then reaches into his bag again, where his fingers meet the chilled gold rods of the antlers.

He withdraws the crown as well, sets it on the boulder. It glows as well, just the slightest bit, the gold clear against the dark background.

That's got to mean something. Maybe all ancient, godly artifacts glow like that.

There's really nothing else to wait for. At any moment, a servant could come knocking on his bedroom door, summoning him for matters of war, only to find him missing.

He should pray. Right? He is trying to get Aeor's attention, after all.

Haltingly, Scott kneels in the grass, grimacing when he feels the knees of his black trousers instantly become soaked. He's not really any good at praying, but he can give it a shot.

"Um," Scott says awkwardly. What is it the priests always say? "O Aeor, God of us all and of those below, God of the mountains and . . . and of the snow, God of the day that conquers the night, God that now slumbers until the world is returned to thy light. Uh. . . ."

The introduction part feels clunky and must actually be more ornate than that, but Scott can't quite seem to bring it to his remembrance, even with however many years that he's been hearing it. It's good enough, though, and now he ought to continue—but the prayers differ after that, a thousand and two different ones for any situation. And Scott, after he recited the main forty for his religious tutoring, made no effort to keep them memorized nor learn any of the others.

"Aeor," he says after a few moments of deliberation, dropping all attempts at following a prayer, "if I truly am your chosen, consecrate these holy objects now in me. Show me . . . show me the way. Help—help me."

Did Alinar ever kneel alone in a forest, praying for any help that his god would give? Did Alinar ever feel entirely inadequate for the job that he was faced with, for the mantle of Aeor's Champion?

Years ago, reading Alinar's tales, Scott would've laughed at such a thought. Alinar had been foreordained, had perfectly completed every task set for him. Never was there any doubt that the task at hand was beyond his reach.

But now that Scott's in the hero's story, he can't help but hope it's normal to feel like an utter failure. Normal to be scared. Normal to feel totally, utterly lost.

Scott stands, brushes off his knees, and pulls a boot on.

It fits perfectly, of course, his foot sliding into place with ease. He laces it up as tight as he can, the boot going a bit higher than halfway up his calf. The other is no different, though his fingers fumble on the white leather of the laces and it takes him a moment to get it pulled as tight as he wants it.

Okay. He has the boots on.

Next step.

Scott straightens, and with mounting anticipation and shaking hands, he lifts the crown of antlers onto his head.

He waits.

He doesn't . . . he doesn't feel any different, so far. Maybe . . . holier, maybe?

He flexes his toes in the boots. They aren't stiff at all, the leather well taken care of but fairly worn-in.

He tilts his head from side to side. The crown feels almost weightless, impeccably well-balanced. It isn't in any danger of slipping, either, set firmly on his head, fitting as perfectly as the boots do.

Now. How is he meant to test these out?

Scott takes a tentative step forward.

There's a sudden, crinkling-crackling sound from his feet—Scott looks down—

The edge of the pond is frozen.

There's frost under his toes. The edge of the pond is frozen.

There's absolutely no way.

He takes another step—more crackling, the ice spreads another foot down the pond.

Carefully, Scott puts some of his weight on the ice.

It holds. More spreads, even.

He puts both feet standing on the now half-frozen pond.

It doesn't even crack.

Ice magic, then. The boots have some sort of ice enchantment, likely written into the runes. That—maybe he's meant to freeze Xornoth? Freeze him, so that he can't get away from the whole crystal ordeal. Or maybe use the ice to freeze him to the crystal?

And when thou hast the daemone at thy will, binde it to the cristyl.

That . . . that might be right. Right? It's probably more than normal ice, it's probably strange magical ice. Something that can bind.

Scott crosses to the middle of the pond. He's walking on water, practically. The pond is just freezing around him, making a large path for his next step before he's even raised his foot.

Jimmy would have found this so impressive. He would've stood on the shore and sputtered, mouth hanging open. Scott would've laughed, and held out his hand, and brought Jimmy out onto the ice to stand with him. And then, gazing at his perfect lover with his permanently-messy hair and his still-shocked expression, he would have kissed him.

And it's for Jimmy that Scott is going to end Xornoth.

He can't kill Xornoth, the book had told him that much. Their souls are connected, some sort of confusing reincarnation of spirits kind of thing that Scott doesn't really understand. He needs to bind him to the crystal in a ritual that he also doesn't understand, but if the boots have an ice enchantment to freeze Xornoth in place or attach him to the crystal, maybe the crown just gives him the magical authority to command Xornoth to go into the crystal? Or something like that?

Scott points at a sleepy-looking frog. "Don't move," he commands with all the power he can muster.

The frog doesn't move. But it probably wasn't planning on it, anyway.

And part of the intrinsic elvish magic that he already has is the strength of suggestion. If he tells someone not to move, really tells them, with power, chances are they won't move.

Will the crown just amplify that magic, then? Or will it make it literally impossible to break a command given, since the power comes from a god and not just a normal elf?

Well, at least he figured out what the boots do. He really ought to get back—he's already spent enough time away. A servant could have alerted the entire palace by now if they knocked to find him missing.

Scott heads back to shore and unlaces the boots, stepping out of them and into his own shoes (he doesn't bother with his socks right now, tucking them into his pocket). Then he puts the boots and the crown back in the bag, beside a small book that looks . . . unfamiliar.

When did he put a book in his bag? Especially one that looks so . . . ancient?

Frowning, Scott pulls it out and cracks it open.

The text isn't anything like what he's used to, blue lines thick and letters big, with no discernable spaces for words. It takes a moment of staring stupidly at the large letters before he has the sudden realization that this is a book in that form of Oceanic that he was meant to give Lizzie. He's already given her the book, but he remembers that it had a smaller book inside. It must've slipped out at some point.

He'll probably see her soon, right? War negotiations have constantly been taking him or one of his advisors to and fro, so surely there'll be someone to give it to her, if not him precisely.

So Scott puts it back in his bag amongst the artifacts and takes off, flying straight back to the palace and landing on his bedroom windowsill, crawling in.

Unnoticed, the touch of his fingers on the window frame leaves frost.

When Scott wakes up (blurry nightmares of chains and indistinct threats), he feels cold.

He must've left the window open. He's done that before, woken up to a little bit of snow on the windowsill after a late-night flight.

And his bed's been rather cold as of late, missing the heat of another body.

But when Scott opens his eyes, his favorite blue blanket is white.

He sits up, confused—and snow falls off of him in little showers, clumping onto his blanket in the creases.

Why is there—?

There's ice on his bedside table, just a thin layer of it. Snow on the bedknobs. Snow on the rug.

And the window is closed.

The low fire that's usually still a bed of hot coals in the mornings is emitting zero warmth, the coals black and cold. The lantern on his bedside table has gone out.

Scott throws his legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the cascade of snow that falls to the floor. How did—what?

The boots.

Are they still active even when he isn't wearing them? But—had something changed when he put them on? Is there a way to turn them off?

Scott fumbles around his bedpost until he finds his bag hanging, from which he pulls out the boots and turns them over in his hands.

"Stop," he says, voice still heavy with sleep. "Just . . . don't."

Nothing changes. Did it work? Are the boots still freezing the room?

Nothing really looks like it's melting, but there isn't anything new in the room, either. Scott sets the boots aside (and they feel normal, they aren't covered in frost or anything) and stands up, stumping over to the fireplace on numb feet. He stokes the coals, trying to bring any bit of warmth back to the room, but there's absolutely nothing left to be brought back.

He doesn't keep a flint and steel in his room. Usually a servant cares for these kinds of things, but he doesn't want a servant in here to find his room frozen. How on Aeor's green earth would he explain that?

He has to have a flint and steel in his travel kit in the closet, right? Scott ducks into the closet, finds his travel kit thrown on the floor where he left it after the funeral. He picks it up, rummages through it for a moment. Sure enough, tucked into a part of the leather kit is a small flint and steel, right next to a small hunting knife and needle and thread. He pulls it out and heads back to the coals. He can do figure this out. No need to panic.

There's a little pile of logs by the fireplace, which he shakes the snow off of before tossing them in, hoping they aren't too damp or anything. That would be just his luck, the inability to light a fire in a frozen room.

Thankfully, they aren't too damp. It takes a couple of tries with his numb fingers to get the flint and steel to strike a spark, and another couple tries to get it to light, but it lights nonetheless.

Once the flame takes hold, the room immediately starts to feel a bit warmer, and Scott shudders as his fingers start to tingle with pins and needles. Right, that's taken care of. Maybe now he won't freeze to death.

And then he remembers that there's quite a bit of ice and snow in his room, which will all be melting shortly.

That might be even worse than all the ice, and it's with a panicked hurriedness that Scott starts scooping up the snow in his bare hands and running it to the window to toss it out. He gets a good bit of it (at some point he lifts his blanket off his bed and just shakes it out the window) out, but it's already starting to melt and he can barely feel his fingers and the rug squishes under his feet—

Knock-knock-knock.

Scott curses, wipes his hands off on his dressing robe, and has his hand on the doorknob before he realizes he isn't wearing his veil. He curses again, doubles back to his closet. He doesn't have time to pin the whole thing on, he doesn't have time for any of his—

Scott pulls a veil on over his head and doesn't even bother with any of the pins and ties. It's a long one, meant for trips out, but he just adusts it until his eyes are in the eye-slit and hopes that he doesn't have any hair sticking out.

Then he can get back to the door (he trips over the trailing veil, it wouldn't be long enough to trip over if he'd tied and pinned it properly) and crack it open, sticking his head out.

Surprisingly, he finds not a servant, but Galidre, a junior member of his council. Galidre bows, black robes sweeping the floor.

"Your majesty," they say, straightening. "A representative of the Undergrove is here to speak with you."

"Shubble?" Scott asks, a little bewildered. What does she need?

"Not—not the ruler herself, but an ambassador. I believe they are requesting sanctuary, Milord."

Sanctuary?

That doesn't make any sense. The Grimlands haven't really mobilized anything concrete yet, and as far as Scott was last aware, Mythland and the Lost Empire were both still attacking the Ocean Kingdom.

But Scott doesn't ask questions. He just withdraws and gets dressed (properly pinning his veil this time), then grabs all the towels from the washroom and lays them on his bedroom floor to try and soak up some of the water. Hopefully nobody comes in to clean his room or gather his laundry while he's out.

Last of all, he steps into his very normal boots, pulls on his black gloves, and sets his crown atop his veil.

Perfect. He looks the pinnacle of 'king-mourning-his-fiance', no doubt about it.

He misses Jimmy.

And just as Galidre had suggested, in the meeting with the representative of the Undergrove, Shubble's people are looking for sanctuary.

"There's so few of us, your majesty," the gnome implores, twisting his mushroom hat between his hands. "Less than eight thousand at our last count. We do not ask for you to provide for us, but if we could come to just the foothills of your lands, someplace safe for our children, we promise all able gnomes will serve in your armies."

That isn't asking much. It's asking far less than Scott would have asked, had the situation been reversed, and Scott's bruised heart aches at the humble plea. Can he even bear to turn them away?

"I will . . . I will discuss this matter with my council," Scott tells him, glancing between Galidre and Aphoras, the two advisors present. "I don't wish for any to be harmed while it is in my power to stop it."

If Shubble's worried, it means fWhip is getting ready to attack. Or maybe that Sausage and Joey are leaving their battle, hoping to strike Scott in his complacency. Something's happening soon, and the Undergrove cannot protect itself.

He doesn't want to uproot the gnomes from their new home. The gnomes had appeared in his childhood, three or four thousand of them moving from some unknown, conquered land to take up residence in their own small corner of the world. They've nurtured and cultivated that corner, built a city and begun farms and families, until it became what it is—a lovely little civilization beginning to thrive. To take that away from them would be cruel.

But he has to do it. To save them the destruction of their entire culture, he has to pull the gnomes away from everything they have.

He could make the decision here and now. His mind is already made up, he won't need to discuss this with his council.

But as the gnome hops down from his too-big chair, bowing deeply, Scott knows that there's another way.

He has to end the war.

Ending a war is easier said than done. For one, Scott still doesn't really know how to use the artifacts. The crown remains stubbornly unforthcoming with what its use might be, and the boots. . . . Well, the boots don't stop. The next morning when he wakes up, his room is frozen again—and the morning after that. Scott stops bothering to melt it and just pins a 'do not disturb' sign on the door, before moving to sleep in Jimmy's almost-untouched bedroom. That one freezes, too, as well as the sitting room, and Scott gives up on trying to stop the boots from freezing things and just piles blankets onto his bed and puts pans of hot coals in between the sheets for when he needs to sleep. Otherwise, he just stays out of his room and pretends like it isn't covered in ice.

(He doesn't notice, but frost spreads under his desk, and his untouched cups of tea ice over, and every tear he cries freezes on his face.)

(Others notice, though. Ilphas stares when a wave of Scott's hand sends a streak of frost along a wall; a servant cleans his office and is bewildered by the ice everywhere; the eldest of the palace begin whispering rumors of Aeor's Champion, remembering the old songs.)

For another, Scott doesn't really know how or where to meet Xornoth to defeat him. Does he just go outside? Call his brother's name? Hope the demon shows up, despite the wards around Rivendell preventing his entrance?

He really doesn't want to summon the demon. Somehow, that seems like a poor idea. Some part of Scott is certain that demons have the most power right as they've been summoned, and whether that's true or not Scott doesn't want to test. And he'd absolutely rather not have Xornoth in Rivendell.

The only thing he can think to do is meet Sausage's armies at . . . well, at the border of Mythland. It would be a bold show of support for the Ocean Kingdom—he would have either to march his army through Mezelea or sail across the ocean to reach Mythland. It should only be a move to make if he's certain that he's ready to fully enter the war, or if he's certain that Xornoth will be there.

And suddenly it doesn't really matter, because three days after the ambassador from the Undergrove arrives, he receives communication that fWhip has set out for Rivendell, thousands of soldiers at his command.

His hand is forced. Scott sends Gem a quick message, asking if she's been able to create the crystal. When she responds by gushing excitedly about the properties, he tells her to meet him at No Man's Pass, on the far East border of Rivendell.

It only takes two days to mobilize the advance party of his army, prepared as he has been to enter the war. He can but hope (and dread) that Xornoth will be there.

So Scott swallows down his anxieties about not being able to figure out the artifacts (and he really has tried, but he's only had them for a little over a week), swings the Codmade bag with both of them inside over his shoulder, and rides out to meet Xornoth.

With any luck, Aeor will guide.

It's a cold morning when Scott steps out of his tent, ready to treaty with fWhip.

Their armies had met the day prior, and both of their generals had agreed to a meeting between leaders to see if they couldn't come to an arrangement of some sort. So Scott steps out, dressed in his most moveable mourning clothes (a short veil tight enough to be almost a scarf around his face and head, a hood pulled over that, billowy black trousers and a belted tunic with an open-front surcoat) and the Boots of Alinar on his feet, the Crown of Alinar a conscious weight in the Codmade bag at his side.

And when he enters the treaty tent, set on a cliff overlooking a rushing river in the shadow of one of Rivendell's mountains, with Ilphas at his side and two guards behind him, there are more people in the tent than he expected.

fWhip he notices first, dressed in his usual black coat and scarf, standing between two guards of his own, elytra clicking idly. But next to him is Sausage (naturally Scott wants to kill him), and next to him is Joey.

Which is entirely unexpected, because as far as Scott is aware, neither of them brought their armies—or any sort of guard—with them. They must have flown over for this confrontation in particular, as if a war wasn't currently happening, as if their own soldiers aren't dying right now.

Scott can barely muster disgust past the fear (fear of what will happen, fear that it won't work, fear because these three men tortured him again and again and if all fails, he'll be at their mercy again).

Also present is Gem, wizard's staff in one hand, a leather bag swung over her shoulder, and Katherine, wings fluttering anxiously behind her.

"I'm here to keep the peace," Katherine says immediately. "I don't know why everyone else is here."

"I'm here because Scott asked me to be," Gem pipes up.

"I'm here to see my Xorny," Joey says obnoxiously.

It's less the idea of Joey dating a demon and more the idea of Joey dating his brother that makes Scott want to vomit. Out of all the men in the world, he picked Xornoth? And out of all the men in the world, Joey is his potential brother-in-law?

Sausage shrugs in a way that makes Scott want to kill him. "I just wanted to see it all go down!"

"Me too," a voice says behind Scott. Scott whips around—Joel's standing there, looking entirely unrepentant.

He was counting on the fact that there would be some factors within his control, such as who was present—he had only anticipated himself and fWhip and Xornoth.

"All right, this is far too many emperors in one tent," declares Scott. His feathers are standing on end, all of his nerves jangling. This isn't good. Something is going to go sour here. Especially adding Joel to the mix. Joel is hotheaded at the best of times—in the middle of a war, in a tent with the enemy? Scott doesn't trust him to keep cool.

Scott almost doesn't trust himself to keep cool.

"It's like a House Blossom meeting all over again," Sausage says, voice cheery in a way that makes Scott want to stab him through the heart.

"Hey, I'm just here—"

"This does concern me, after all, it's about—"

"Well if it concerns you, then it concerns—"

"—for everyone, so they—"

"—is that Lizzie said that—"

"My lords and ladies, your presence is acknowledged and appreciated," Ilphas steps forward, checking over their shoulder at Scott. Scott nods his go-ahead—he's never been so grateful to have political, stuffy advisors who know how to be polite.

"This is, however, a meeting between Lord Smajor and Count fWhip, and as such, no other rulers are permitted to be in the tent during the meeting."

"Aw, come on!" Sausage whines. If Scott could kill him without breaking a million laws right now. . . .

But they all clear out, even as Joel walks backward, glaring hard at fWhip.

And Scott is left alone with the man (and their combined guards and Ilphas).

fWhip nods toward the table and two chairs that have been set up in the middle of the tent, a clearly-just-unrolled red rug underneath them.

Scott waits. He doesn't plan on implying that he's at fWhip's command.

After a long moment, fWhip shrugs and sits.

It's the little things.

After waiting a sufficient amount of time to establish that he is the one running this conversation, thank you very much, Scott sits across from him.

He's about to speak. He's about to open his mouth and demand a conference with Xornoth. He's about to end this war.

But fWhip leans forward, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I heard it wasn't exactly quick," he says lowly, and Scott has a moment of confusion—quick? what wasn't quick?—before fWhip continues.

"Not as long as Xornoth was gonna make it, of course," he says, eyes fixed on Scott (and goosebumps spontaneously appear all over Scott's body as he flashes back to those six days in captivity). "If Xornoth got your little fish boy, he was gonna make it long. I heard some of his plans—something about making you watch as he slowly skinned him—?"

Before he even knows what he's doing, Scott's on his feet, hand dragging fWhip up by his collar, pulling him halfway across the table as the man lets out a surprised, choked noise.

"Milord," says Ilphas sharply, tugging on the back of Scott's robe.

Scott shoves fWhip back in his chair (which rocks onto its back legs from the force), hands shaking—whole body shaking, trembling with something like the grief-stricken rage Lizzie had shown at Jimmy's funeral. He—just to casually—casually mention torturing his dead fiance and—and Scott knows he's doing it on purpose, he knows it's to get a rise out of him, and he finds that he just doesn't care.

fWhip's guards step forward, though, weapons raised, and with Ilphas firmly pushing down on his shoulders, Scott sits back down, his gloved hands balled into fists.

He isn't going to stand for this. He isn't going to let fWhip sit there and just speak such filth about his beloved.

But he can't do anything. Not yet.

It gives him a bit of satisfaction to see fWhip ruffled, collar upturned and hair out of place. But fWhip just fixes a stupidly smug look on his face and crosses his arms.

"Scott, we both know you can't threaten me anymore," he chuckles. "Not since I beat you, whipped you, branded you with my own signet . . . there's absolutely nothing about you that I find scary. You've literally begged me for mercy way too many times for that, my friend."

Scott forces himself to breathe deeply, let his fists relax, even as the faded whipping scars on his back twinge in memory. He has to—he has to get control of himself, he has to conduct this in a kingly manner. It doesn't matter that he was tortured by this man, it doesn't matter that his fiance died mere weeks ago (over a month ago, his mind supplies, it's been over a month and the world has somehow gone on), it doesn't matter that he's only a hundred and nine, for Aeor's sake, he is a king and he has to act like one.

"We are here—" he starts, but fWhip interrupts.

"Xornoth only wants one thing. Well," he laughs a little, "a couple of things. World domination is pretty high on his priority list. But he wants you to give up the god, Scott. He already knows you're Aeor's Champion or whatever that is, so you are his best chance at finding the other one. After all, you've got a very rare direct connection to a god yourself!"

That . . . that doesn't make any sense.

The other one? Aeor is the only god that Scott knows of that happens to be living (other than Exor, who Xornoth is already irrevocably bound to). Are there others alive? Others that he's somehow meant to know about?

It doesn't really matter, Scott supposes. He's here to end this war and that's allowed.

"That subject is not the purpose of this meeting," Scott says stiffly, ignoring the chill that runs down his spine at those words that he'd heard so many times in his nightmares. "The purpose—"

"Yeah, yeah, you want me to not bring the war to you or something, trying to convince me to leave your people alone," fWhip waves. "Your people mean nothing to me. I'll kill them if you make me, but if you don't want me to do that, I have a couple of terms. So—"

"That is not what I intended to discuss," Scott says icily, smoothing out a wrinkle in his tunic.

fWhip raises an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? Then what?"

Scott leans a bit closer, all of his instincts screaming for him to move further away. "I am here to demand a meeting with Xornoth," he says, forcing every ounce of cold anger that he feels into his words. "He has tormented these lands for long enough. My business is with him and him alone."

fWhip scoffs. "If you've got business with him, you've got it with me," he says. "So, go on. Say your piece."

You know what? Sure. Scott doesn't mind killing two of his tormentors in one go. First fWhip, then Xornoth. He can absolutely do that.

But Ilphas's hand falls on his shoulder, as if they know exactly what he's thinking of. It would be very, very bad politically to kill fWhip right here and now.

"You misunderstand me," Scott says, and his stomach flips because this is it, it's time to save the world and he doesn't know if he has the strength to do it, and he doesn't let his voice waver but he does let his breath catch— "I mean to kill him."

fWhip bursts out laughing. "Sorry—are you serious? You kill Xornoth? Like, I admire the initiative, but you're the weakest person I know! At least, the weakest living person."

Scott ignores the jab at Jimmy, as disgusting as it is. He just settles back in his chair, crosses his legs.

Eventually, fWhip stops laughing, and his cheerful demeanor drops into a glare alarmingly quickly, quickly enough that it unsettles Scott more than anything fWhip's said so far.

"Your funeral, Smajor," he says darkly. "It'll be nice to get you out of the way."

The lamp on the table goes out, bathing them in a cool dimness.

Scott's heart leaps into his throat.

He doesn't dare breathe in the sudden stillness.

The lamp flickers back to life, the once-yellow flame now a deep red.

The tent, which had been almost frigid for some reason, rapidly begins to heat to an unbearable temperature. Sweat breaks out on Scott's forehead, rolling down his back, dripping down his cheek. It's like he stepped into the Nether, hot enough that his head starts to feel dizzy and his stomach unsteady.

The table begins to rattle, quiet at first, then faster and faster and louder and louder. The ground begins to shake, actually, rumbling and trembling, and the tent walls are flapping in a sudden roaring wins and Scott knows he's coming he knows he's here—

The tent pulls free of the stakes and completely flies apart, the red light spilling outward over the darkening plain, much further than a lantern's light ought to go. Scott shoves back his chair and stands, surcoat whipping around him, searching the skies for any sign of his brother.

Scott's never really seen the demon up close. He's briefly seen him (outside of their youth) twice. Once was from a distance in the End, Xornoth standing atop a tower to watch the battle to save the dragon. The other time was just a brief encounter, Xornoth appearing behind him while visiting the Overgrown close to a year ago, seemingly to do nothing but spook him.

And now, as Xornoth appears before him, Scott loses sight of all his anger. He can't feel anything but cold fear.

Again, Scott's never really seen the demon up close. And as he stares now, feet rooted to the ground, he doesn't see a single sign of the brother he once knew.

Xornoth, like Scott, is dressed all in black, but where Scott's mourning clothing is carefully fashioned and clean, Xornoth's black robes are torn, his dark armor unshined and grimy. His feet are shod with armored boots, his hands with leather gloves, and upon his head is what could either be a literal pair of black antlers or the red-streaked crown of Exor's Champion, a crude mockery of the one hanging at Scott's side.

His face is distorted, blackened, eyes bulbous and entirely maroon, mouth far too large and cutting jaggedly into his cheeks. His ears are still somewhat elvish, poking through his straggly black hair (which had always been purple as a child), which trails down his shoulders and chest.

Whatever that demon is, Scott can barely picture his brother in its place.

Yet it is his brother, here and now, and Xornoth is standing atop a boulder on the edge of the cliff, dark veins of red spreading out from it through the earth, cracking apart stone and solid dirt. Soldiers and rulers that had been milling about leap back, weapons raised.

And echoing through Scott's head and bones and the stifling air around him is a voice that hasn't haunted him in decades.

"Well, brother," Xornoth says, their blackened lips stretching inhumanly, pointed teeth bared. "You think you can destroy me?"

Scott's really starting to think he can't. The very air is thick with the stench of brimstone, so much so that members of his army are doubled over coughing, and the wind is howling and the skies are dark and there's maroon smoke rising from the ground and Scott can't breathe, he's choking on his own air and he doesn't even know what he's supposed to do—

But he doesn't fall to his knees, even as Katherine does beside him. He doesn't cover his ears and squint his eyes shut, like Joel does.

Instead, he fumbles open his bag and pulls out the Crown of Antlers, which he trades out for the crown on his head.

And Xornoth's smile falters.

His gaze travels down, down to Scott's feet.

Scott taps a booted toe against the ground.

"That's right," Scott calls out, above the whistling of the furnace-like wind and the coughing of the soldiers. "I have the artifacts. I'm going to bind you and your master, never to return again."

Almost as if caused by his words, spoken with a conviction that he forces himself to feel, the wind changes directions. The sweat on Scott's back freezes. fWhip, mere steps away from Scott, coughs, his breath appearing before him in a puff of smoke.

"You don't know how to use those," Xornoth sneers, but despite the years it's been since they last spoke, despite how unrecognizable he truly is, Scott knows his brother. He knows that when his voice becomes harshest is at his moments of uncertainty, determined to command his way out of any problem.

That means he's scared. He knows what Scott can do to him.

(Even if Scott doesn't know it himself.)

"Gem," he calls over his shoulder, and within moments she's at his side. "I'll need you to hold the crystal while I bind him, all right?" he says, quieter.

She nods, reaches into her sleek leather satchel and pulls out a huge, clear crystal, bigger than Scott's own hand. It shimmers slightly, gold specks scattered throughout that somehow shine with the sun hidden by the dark grey skies. She hefts it up, mouth in a grim line.

Scott nods back to her, then takes a step forward, one arm up to shield his eyes as the wind and heat get stronger the nearer he gets to Xornoth. Another step. Another.

There's a crack in the air, deafeningly loud, and Scott only has a moment to register that Xornoth has vanished in a cloud of black smoke before a literal tentacle bursts out of the stoney ground right in front of him, sending chunks of rock flying, and wraps around Scott's middle.

It lifts him into the air, a sizzling sound and uncomfortable heat against his body and wings telling him that it's burning through his clothes and feathers, and Scott struggles against it to try and pull his wings free but it's holding tightly to him, raising him higher and higher into the air—

And then it stops.

Ice is gathering where Scott's fists have been beating against the tentacle, gathering and spreading down, and though it melts almost instantly it simply reforms, until the tentacle begins to slowly recede into the ground.

Scott stumbles out of its grasp and onto blessed solid ground (he loves being in the air but not like that), and Xornoth himself appears right in front of him.

The demon moves, arm reaching out, mouth stretching open, Scott's arms fly up to shield his face—

"Stop," Scott gasps blindly, putting as much compulsion as he can into the one word, even though he doesn't even know what he's commanding Xornoth to stop doing.

The wind calms to almost nothing. Ice crackles across the ground. The air becomes frigid, though the terrible smell still lingers.

Scott lets his arms lower from blocking his vision, terrified of what he might find. Dear Aeor, his legs are utterly trembling, but he doesn't have the time to collapse.

And he finds that Xornoth is standing motionless before him, face twisted in rage.

"Gem," Scott says, voice too loud for the sudden silence, heart pounding in his ears. "The crystal—Gem, now—"

Gem hurries forward, holds it out, and Scott musters everything he has in him and commands, making the words up as he goes, "Xornoth, Exor, and those demons within you, I bind you by the power of Aeor to this crystal, never to be free from it again."

He waits, breath tight in his chest.

Nothing happens. Xornoth glances down, eyes catching on Scott's waist, and chuckles.

"I bind you!" Scott says again. This has to work. He has the crown, he has the boots, he has the crystal, this should be working—

He shoves all the imagined power he can through the air, as if to push Xornoth bodily into the crystal, this has to work he's getting desperate—

He's knocked backward with a sudden force, a blast of frost and ice coming from his own body, and Scott hits the ground and rolls through the dust, bumping his elbows and knees and hips, his veil getting caught under him and tearing down off his face.

He lays there for a moment—he can't afford a moment, but he can't breathe—and when he gets up, pushing himself up on his gloved hands, he sees—

Xornoth is frozen, a giant block of ice encasing him. The crystal is on the ground, twinkling under a blanket of frost.

And Gem is on the ground too, slumped as if dead, hair white as snow.

No—no—

"What'd you do to my sister!" fWhip shouts, rushing forward to Gem. He kneels down beside her, pulls her into his lap, starts shaking her.

Scott struggles to his knees, tugs off his torn gloves with shaking hands. He didn't—he didn't mean to hurt anyone, he didn't mean to hit Gem—he doesn't know what he's doing, he was just trying to fix everything but he doesn't know how and he doesn't know what to do—Aeor, please—

He stumbles up, the lace of one boot getting caught under his foot and coming entirely undone.

Ice is everywhere. Great chunks of it around the plateau, coating every bit of ground in a sheet, the one tree growing in the tough dirt entirely uprooted and frozen.

Those members of his and fWhip's armies that are closest to the treaty grounds are dusting frost from their uniforms, some of them picking themselves up from the ground where the force of the blast had knocked them.

He didn't know the boots could do this. He didn't want to do this. He didn't mean for this to happen, he didn't want this to happen—

"You—!"

And before Scott can even really process everything, fWhip is barreling into him, sending him right back to the ground with an "oof".

"I'm gonna—" fWhip starts, straddling Scott's stomach, eyes wild and face red with anger, but a CRACK! that shoots through the air gives him pause.

Everyone, slowly, trancelike, turns to where the frozen Xornoth remains, and the large crack that's splintering down the ice encasing him.

With strength that must come from Aeor himself, Scott shoves fWhip off (he ignores the way fWhip's jacket goes stiff with ice) and rolls to his feet, stumbling toward Xornoth, scooping up the crystal on his way.

And then he doesn't know what to do.

He holds up the crystal beside the frozen chunk of ice that holds Xornoth, willing it to do something, anything.

"I bind you," he chokes out, pressing the crystal through the crack and into Xormoth's chest. "Come on. . . . I bind you!"

The ice shatters from Xornoth with a wave of heat that blasts Scott back, knocking the crystal from his hand as he once again hits the ground hard on his back (all the breath is forced out of his lungs and it hurts) and slides a couple of feet, feathers turning the wrong way and getting torn out.

Scott scrambles to regain his bearings—he can't breathe and everything hurts—but before he can even get from more than a sitting position, a foul-smelling boot kicks him in the chin and his head snaps backward, sending him back down.

He opens watering eyes, blinking several times to clear their blurriness, arms splayed out at his sides. Xornoth stands over him, radiating heat, the dark clouds in the sky behind him seeming to swell.

"You think you can trap me in a little piece of glass?" Xornoth growls, and when Scott again tries to get up, pushing himself up with his arms against the gravelly ground, he again kicks him down, knocking his head against the stone.

No. No, he has to save them—he can hear people shouting, he can hear screams, he's Aeor's Champion, this isn't how the story is supposed to go—

Xornoth laughs, cruel and derisive, before bending down over Scott and gripping one gloved hand in the front of his tunic. He drags him up, up to standing, his tunic tearing just slightly.

Scott can barely even struggle. His body feels like jelly, wings hanging limply behind him, legs almost unable to support his own weight.

He tried. He tried so hard.

Xornoth's face is so close to his that Scott can smell his reeking breath, see how the points of his black teeth glisten with saliva, but he can't even find the strength to tip his head back, get away from him.

"Even your little fish boy fought harder than this," sneers Xornoth, only loud enough for Scott to hear, and Scott's heart breaks.

Jimmy.

He just wants Jimmy.

Somehow, if Jimmy had been here, it all would have been okay.

A tear slips down his bare face. Scott swallows back a sob, brings up his fumbling arms and weakly pushes at Xornoth's hand.

Ice spreads across his glove, and Xornoth hisses before throwing Scott down. He lands hard on his side, feels one of his ribs crack with a flash of white-hot pain, and he can't do anything but lie there and try to breath through it.

"I am Xornoth," the demon declares, voice echoing around the cliff, and the armies waiting on either side quiet, the only sound Xornoth's voice and the once-again rushing wind. "I am the ruler of this world. The so-called king of Rivendell tried to challenge me, and has failed. If any of you who followed him wish to feel my mercy, give up your arms now."

Scott knows his people. He knows that despite his youth, despite some unpopularity among older generations, his people care too much for him (for tradition, for his family) to renounce him.

And he can't let that happen. He's done for. He failed.

Rivendell needs to surrender.

Scott raises his head, just a little bit, some grit that had been stuck to his cheek falling to the stony ground, and looks around—there.

He catches Ilphas's eye—Ilphas, standing at the forefront of his army, their grey cloak slipping from their shoulder and hair out of place but their chin held high and stance dignified—and ignores the abject horror painting their face, then gives the tiniest, most minute nod.

They blink several times, and if Scott didn't know any better, he'd think they were crying. They nod in return, though, and turn away, calling instructions to surrender.

Xornoth nudges Scott with the toe of his boot. "This is your king," he spits. "And he is dead."

Before Scott can do anything, before he can so much as move, another maroon tentacle cracks out of the ground beside him, burning hot, and wraps around his legs.

It's all Scott can do not to scream—this tentacle is far hotter than the other, burning straight through his trousers to his skin, but before he can try to squirm away, it drags him up into the air upside-down and throws him.

Scott doesn't even have time to process the wind rushing through his ears before he slams into the ground, knocking his head against a rock in a way that makes his vision flash black and grainy and sends pain jolting through his entire head.

Xornoth stalks toward him, he sees, through blurry vision red with pain, he says something—something terrible and pulsing—Scott scrambles back, his palms bleeding against the rough texture of the cliff, he just has to survive he just has to survive—

Xornoth grabs him by the right wing, pulls him up as the delicate bone strains, Scott tries to even out his weight to his feet but he can't find his footing—

The bone in his wing snaps and Scott doesn't have the energy to scream, his breath releasing in a little gasp. No . . . no. . . .

He meets Xornoth's eyes, the world hazy.

There's no pity to be found in those dark pits. No mercy. Only satisfaction.

And Scott knows, right then and there, with a clarity that cuts through all the pain and haziness, that he's dying.

He failed.

He failed all of them.

And with a burst of hot power from Xornoth, Scott is once again flying through the air and then he's falling, down, down, the wind buffeting his back as he goes over the cliff, his right wing thrown uselessly this way and that as his left wing tries valiantly to save him but his weight is too much, and with a gross clunk and a white hot burst of pain, it slips out of the socket.

Before Scott can scream, before he can pray, before he can do anything but twist his body in the air to face nose down, he hits freezing water and blacks out.

The last thing he thinks, mind desperately spinning, is that at least he won't have to live so alone anymore.

His body aches, pulsing up and down, from the tips of his fingers to the ends of his toes, traveling up each limb and down each vein. Everything hurts, in ways that he can't quite understand.

The stag steps carefully through the forest, over gnarled tree roots and clumps of grass, each step rocking him from right to left.

Scott takes in a slow breath, body slumping further against the stag. The fingers of his right hand loosely grasp its hair, his left arm hanging at his side.

He just wants to fall asleep. He's so tired, and it all hurts so much that he can't even think. He just wants to sleep.

But he blinks slowly instead, watches as a squirrel skitters up the bark of a huge oak tree. A deer pokes its head out from behind a birch, its ears twitching curiously. Somewhere in the branches above, a chickadee sings its repeating song.

Scott lets his breath out in a long sigh. His body rolls with the slow trundle of the stag, jostling his various uncategorized wounds.

He swallows, throat dry.

Maybe he can sleep here. On the back of the stag. Let it carry him to wherever it intends to go.

He's so tired.

The ground below gets softer, bit by bit, the dirt becoming darker, the grass more frequent. The stag's hooves begin to leave impressions in the ground, the grass springing up after every step. A frog croaks from nearby, low and long. The leaves on the trees start hanging lower and lower, dripping down into puddles of murky water.

And then, the dirt now mud and squishing with every step, the stag stops.

Scott should see why it stopped. He should lift his pounding head, see what's before them, because surely if it's important enough to stop the stag he has to see what it is.

But he doesn't have the strength.

As his body is pushed, further and further—

After a long moment, the stag bends its neck, head dipping low in an arc, and Scott begins to slide forward, his fingers slipping from their limp grasp, his body leaving streaks of red in the brilliant white hair.

He slowly slides further, further, until he rolls between the stag's antlers, his tunic catching on a sharp antler and pulling a long tear down the side, before he slowly falls into a clear pool of water.

He sinks, red billowing up in the water around him—

Sinking, water filling his lungs, so much weighing him down and down—

Down and down, until his toes meet silty mud at the bottom.

He hangs there, in the water, letting it wash away his aches and pains and all the blood, and he sighs, bubbles spilling from his lips.

He's so tired.

A fish swims up to him—a cod—

Hands under his arms and pulling at his tunic, dragging him up onto a rocky shore scraping his back—

It noses at him, pokes him hard in the chest—

Pressing on his chest, harder and harder, again and again and it hurts—

And then swims up to between his eyes (it takes a moment to come back into focus) and stares at him, eyes large and somehow desperate.

And he sees, wavering in and out, desperate and beautiful brown eyes.

52 notes · View notes

cydanite · 2 years

Note

How does pix react to the codfather. Surely our local archeologist would love meeting a 2 thousand year old creature who witness fallen kingdoms

I talked it just a smidge in this post!

Pix definitely is more than excited to talk to a citizen, much less the ruler, of an ancient kingdom. This is actually the scene I plan on writing next! Gonna be a day or two before I have time to really work on it, but I have been thinking it over a lot! In the meantime here's something I do have done, the messages from right after "A Conversation Over Tea" c:

ShubbleYT: Hey Pix! Nothing serious at all! Just was wondering if you knew anything about fish people? Since you’re smart and all. Thanks!

...

Pixlriffs: You’re going to have to be a bit more specific. Fish people can mean a lot of things haha.

ShubbleYT: So I may have had a fish person. Sleeping under my backyard.

ShubbleYT: And now they're awake and were having tea!

Pixlriffs: Didn't know fish were partial to tea.

ShubbleYT: I don’t know much about them except big, old, and... cod-esque?

ShubbleYT: Is that helpful?

Pix: Hmm, not ringing any bells yet.

Pix: Happen to know how old?

ShubbleYT: Oh at least like 1000 years they said. I should have clarified

ShubbleYT: Proportionally much older than big theyre only like 12ft tall.

Pixlriffs: 1000?

Pixlriffs: That’s odd for sentient marine life. Maybe Im wrong there, I’m an archeologist not an ichthyologist. Maybe Pirate Joe knows something that could help? Sea people seems like a pirate's jurisdiction if anyones.

Pixlriffs: Actually let me check something real quick.

ShubbleYT: Oh y’know thats actually a really good idea! I’ll ask him next!

ShubbleYT: Anything else you think is useful?

...

ShubbleYT: You there?

Pixlriffs: sorry had to pull out some records. Alright if I come over?

Pixlriffs: Actually im definitely coming over. Be there in a bit

ShubbleYT: okay??

82 notes · View notes

lil-guys-brainrot · 2 days

Note

hi !!! here are some basic questions cuz you wanted them !!! sorry i'm not very creative !!

what's your favorite and least favorite season and why?

what's your favorite nonfocus side character? (example, benthomaar, vania, ronin, ect)

opinion of skybound? very controversial season so i'd like to know :3

any fav non-canon (or canon) ship? :)

who do you think had the best character development?

who of the ninja do you think would win in a fight based on elements?

what's your favorite uncommon duos!!? like, jay & pix for example.

any funny / nonsense headcanons ?

okk that's all i can come up with :]

this is going under a cut because it's long hehehe, thank you

favorite and least favorite season and why?

my favorite is possession! the ghost whip is my absolute favorite intro, and the animation was great for it. but I think the main reason I like this season is because of how they wrote morro’s character. he felt like a developed and unique villain (with only garmadon and harumi ahead of him imo). he did so much outlandish shit that said a lot about his character. he’s shown to have zero self preservation skills in life and death. he built his base in stiix to prove he wasn’t afraid of anything, yet he later admitted “I thought [I was invincible] once.” he didn’t want to be saved at the end of the season despite having a clear out. and the objects of his scorn were the green ninja (not necessarily lloyd) and master wu, which is a unique spin on the typical antagonist motives. he also was trying to help the preeminent rather than take over the world for himself… my main complaint about this season is that I wish we got one scene with morro and lloyd talking with each other during the possession.

atm, hands of time or hunted would be my least favorite season. my memory of hands of time is foggy at best, and it’s hard to like a season that you can’t really recall. but I’m planning to rewatch soon, so maybe my opinion will change?? that said, I know it’s a season the producers threw together quickly (much like s3), and the season is just not super memorable imho. as for hunted, it’s nothing against the actual season. I know lots of people love this season. it��s just that literally every time I have watched it, people always spoke over the show. I’ve tried to watch this season like 3 times since january, and I remember the same thing happening in the past, so I’m just fed up with trying to actually watch it lol.

favorite nonfocus side character?

ronin!!! I really adore bentho, but ronin is my skrunkly little rat of a man. he’s got really fucked up but steadfast priorities, and I need to study him under a microscope. he does actually care about the ninja tho, and I love that for him. also he’s kind of a tragic character

opinion of skybound?

I really hate canon skybound, but I’m also obsessed with the concept. it upsets me that the concept was so good but the execution was so bad. for everyone, honestly. I saw someone say, “a woman/girl’s feminist arc shouldn’t be told through a man’s perspective,” and that really sums up a lot of my issues with how s6 treated nya. not to mention, her wishes were all stupid as hell. a real she would not fucking say that moment. she, kai, and zane were made to be seen as stupid for no reason other than plot. overall, the characterization was just really off this season. as for jay, I’m a stereotypical whump jay enjoyer that is wayyy to focused on the ongoings and aftermath of him being on nadakhan’s ship. but I also think this season did actually give him some decent character development for once. I just wish they kept it in the fucking story after s6. he was able to be a leader, and the show acknowledged his funny man persona being a guise, and he learned to fend for himself, among other things. too bad none of this ever gets acknowledged again because s6 never happened ig. I’ll also never forgive the writers for keeping the alternate timeline a secret from everyone else on the bounty.

I also wasn't a fan of the romance theme. I’m a romance repulsed aromantic, so this doesn’t mean anything coming from me. but god, it felt very fake when being applied to nya. I can comprehend jay making some dumb choices bc he’s blinded by love, but a lot of nya’s dialogue and actions felt… stilted? to me when it came to her affection towards jay.

so yeah. I love the concept sososo much, and I often read skybound fics, but I also hate the canon season with a passion. the concept can simply thrive in my headcanonverse

fav ship?

I don’t really ship anything romantically. I’m a bit too aro for that;;; I can handle jaya decently well, but that’s about it. my boy pined for 15 seasons, so I can’t fault him too much. he earned it lol. also, since this dynamic was established literally since the introduction of both characters, I’m pretty okay with it. it’s not like they forced the characters to suddenly be attracted down the line. that said, I do think nya’s character development is definitely stunted because she’s constantly been tied to jay… unfortunately, there’s very little that can be done about this now given how long jaya has been a thing :(

but yeah, they can be cute at times!

who do you think had the best character development?

hmm, I think lloyd. his garmadon and harumi trauma alone manifested more character deleopment than half the other cast members tbh. he’s matured and learned a lot, just not necessarily willingly. he’s destiny’s favorite (this is a bad thing)

who of the ninja do you think would win in a fight based on elements?

jay. I operate under the assumption that he constantly restrains / limits his element during fights. he could kill someone in an instant if he wanted to. his element is the most dangerous imo.

in a physical fight, I think zane. he’s great at reading people’s movements and attack patterns, and he’s skilled at finding blind spots to hone in on.

what's your favorite uncommon duos!!?

(maybe not uncommon but) late season jay and kai mean so much to me! kai helped jay propose to his sister, and man, that’s enough to tug at my heartstrings. kai hated their relationship at first but now wants nothing to support two of the people he loves most. the progression of their dynamic means everything to me <3 I also need everyone to know that I think kai is as protective of jay as he his over nya and lloyd. kai just likes to bully jay a bit more than the others.

also nya & ronin. ronin’s dynamic with any of the ninja is fascinating to me, but given everything that happened in s5, there’s something about their dynamic specifically just tickles my brain

any funny / nonsense headcanons ?

jay taught kai to skate at some point after the s4 roller derby

lloyd steals everyone’s clothes (zane’s clothes are usually safe, he doesn’t vibe with zane's style)

if cole were a pokemon, he’d be a clodsire

lloyd and jay are the same height, they're short kings

#answered #ninjago #lego ninjago

4 notes · View notes

xxshadowcasterxx · 1 year

Text

| Trigger Warning: Gore |

Jimmy wanted the crown.

More than anything, he wanted that crown. Jimmy watched as it went from one person to another. First Pix, then Scott, then Gem. He dreamed of the day he got his hands on it, the respect he'd earn, the cheers he would get.

Yes, Jimmy wanted that crown.

And he would do anything to get it.

His first attempt at getting the crown had failed. He had threatened Gem, not expecting her to fight back. He played it off as a joke, and Gem let him go. After all, everyone knew that he couldn't do any real damage. Jimmy knew he would have to play things smarter, so he concocted a plan.

A party. A picnic in Tumble Town. He invited every emperor on the server, as a sign of good will towards them all. He wanted to apologize for his behavior, show there were no hard feelings between them. After all, why would he be upset? Jimmy Solidarity wasn't the kind of guy who held grudges.

He smiled as guests began to arrive one by one. Each one of them looked absolutely regal, including Jimmy himself. He wore an eye catching suit, his badge shining brightly with it.

The picnic went smoothly, and everyone enjoyed themselves. Although, some of the guests had begun to leave early. They would leave one by one, always escorted by Jimmy. Joel had especially thought it was a bit strange, but he decided not to comment on it. The Emperors were busy people, after all.

Soon, only Scott and Joel were left at the picnic. Scott stood up and began to head for the exit. He had some building to do in Chromia, and wanted to start off early. Jimmy offered to escort him out.

They walked towards the portal, although Jimmy had decided to take them on a longer route. They came up onto a small building, somewhere between a shack and a house. "Wait, Scott" Jimmy said, "I want to show you something before you leave."

"What," Scott laughed, "Is it more toys like you?" Jimmy smiled as he opened the door. "Something like that," he said.

Scott stepped inside, confused. The room was pitch black. "Uh, Jimmy? What's with the-" Scott was cut off as the lights flicked on. "Lights," he whispered the last word, filled with shock.

The room was filled by the other Emperors, every guest that had shown up. Blood splattered the walls and pooled on the floor. All Scott could do is stare in shock at the corpses that laid in front of him.

His head whipped around as he heard the door close behind him. He looked down at Jimmy, who held a diamond sword in his hands. Jimmy smiled wide as the sword stuck into Scott's chest, turning the shining blue blade a deep crimson. He laughed as he watched him collapse onto the ground, giving him one last pleading look as the life drained from his eyes.

Joel sat alone at the table. It had been a while since Scott and Jimmy had left. He sighed. He was ready to leave, but knew it would be rude to not say goodbye first. He leaned back in his chair and glanced round the table. His eyes landed on a satchel with colorful patches sewn into it. He picked it up. It belonged to Scott. He figured he could use this as an excuse to find Jimmy and Scott.

He walked for a bit, following the footsteps left behind by the pair. They led him to a small building. He assumed that Scott and Jimmy were talking inside. He decided to interrupt.

He swung the door open. "Scott, you left your bag," he said, oblivious to the scene before him. He froze when he saw the scene. His blood ran cold. Joel felt the bag slip from his grasp and land into a pool of blood, causing a bit to splatter onto his leg.

There, Jimmy was still stood laughing, blade in hand. He slowly turned towards Joel. Joel stared down at him. The door had already closed behind him. "Jim," he said, "C'mon, we're best buds."

Jimmy looked at him and nodded. "Best Buds," he whispered. Although it didn't seem to matter when he sent the blade straight though Joel's heart. He watched the god fall, and looked at them with something close to sympathy in his eyes. "Best Buds," he whispered again, although Joel would never hear it.

Jimmy dropped the sword and walked towards the center of the room. There, something golden shone among the bodies and blood. Jimmy lifted the crown slowly onto his head. He smiled wide. He was the King now. He had the crown.

He looked around at the destruction and gore that surrounded him.

Jimmy Solidarity wasn't the kind of man who held grudges.

The Sheriff, however, was.

(AKA If Jimmy was a competent villain)

#solidaritygaming #scott smajor #smallishbeans #empires smp #king jimmy #villain solidarity

23 notes · View notes

journeysfable · 1 year

Text

Interesting stuff that Pearl said in her stream today

Lore talk starts at around 00:55:20, ends, comes back at around 03:6

Feel like it’s interesting to note that she starts talking about this after saying that the shiny golden goose looks like Pix’s dodo. But I’m likely reading too far into it.

Summary

-Hermit Pearl doesn’t remember Empires Season 1 -Said just “Yes” to someone in Chat saying “’Until we meet again’ but Saint Pearla’ doesn’t remember” -Empires Pearl was not a god during Season 1 -Pearl might not write a book of her lore or anything because she likes seeing peoples interpretations of things so feel free to ignore all this and make shit up lol -Pearl intended for her season 1 ending to not be the ending of her season 1 character. -Pearl doesn’t know if she’s gonna be doing Double Life stuff during this crossover

Transcripts of what she said because Twitch clips are weird and I think it’s good for people to hear it from Pearl herself instead of having it just be filtered and shortened from me Note: I have an audio processing disorder. It picks up on noises well but I struggle to sort them into words sometimes

“So just to kinda give you a little bit of insight if you don’t know about that season, what’s happenin’ with this attire right here, is I’ve come through the portal, alright? So I’m attached to Season 1, ok? I’m a Hermit that’s gone through the portal into the Empires world and I’m wearing the clothes of my Empires Season 1 character. In lore, to give you guys a little bit of insight, my character does not remember, my character does not remember Empires Season 1, my character is Hermit Pearl, ok? So it* doesn’t know what all this is about.”

*I think she said “it” but I don’t think it’s ok to assume that those are actually her characters pronouns unless Pearl says so. She probably said “it” because her character is not a real person. (I’m not even entirely sure she said “it” but it really doesn’t sound like she said “she” or “he”)

“‘But Santa Perla doesn’t remember’ yes laughs yes”

“Ok yes so there was a question about like was I a god in Season 1. Answer is: No. That’s the short answer, no. Umm, what Sausage has done is... This is very much lore description thing here. What Sausage has done this season, uh, and how he linked up Afterlife and Empires is, um, I was in Heaven, Sausage came to me from Afterlife, and uh, that heaven was the castle from Season 8 in Hermitcraft. If anybody recognized it. And I was up there, and he died in Afterlife and came up and met me in the castle, and that’s how that all came about. And then Oli also included me in that segue from Afterlife to Empires, too. So that’s where that came from. But uh, in Oli’s- in Oli’s perspective I kicked him off the cloud down into the world laughs. By the way, that wasn’t the case, he’s just making it up. So that’s why Oli has a bit of a distaste towards Santa Perla and why Sausage likes Santa Perla. For me my character is just normal old me laughs. But technically it has been canonized that I am a saint. And apparently, um, there’s-there‘s a couple of interesting references that are on this season of Empires as well.”

“The story was being created before I myself was creating it. And I’m very happy about that. I definitely wish I had more time to refine that story but, um, everyone like, really liked it by the end of it, and now it’s like ‘well I could technically bring it back. Technically. I-loo- does anyone kn- anyone who watched the first season, did anyone notice how I titled the last episode? Just wondering. Because I titled that episode with future intentions in mind... That wasn’t a- that wasn’t just a ‘ohh everything has ended oh dear’ that was intended. Uh, and it actually worked out perfectly that Lizzie wrote ou- read out in the book. Something about the golden age rising. Kinda like that. That wasn’t intended. Um, it just fit in perfectly.”

“I don’t 100% know if I’m gonna take in Double Life stuff”

#yea am gonna hc that Pearl's golden goose is the ancestor of the dodos #asexualreproduction ftw #has she secretly been working with pix this whole time #empires smp #pearlescentmoon #I spent all day after school doing this

53 notes · View notes

pixiedustandbluebutterflies · 2 years

Text

My dog has Canine Compulsive Disorder (similar to human OCD). And it's a relatively new diagnosis. We're pretty sure it came on because there have been a lot of changes in the last year (my partner and i both got a new jobs with different hours, we moved to a new home, he stopped going to obedience training because of a surgery I had, etc.). Usually his episodes last about 2 hours and involve us trying to use his training or the car to refocus his brain but damn it's rough. Mostly because it seems to manifest itself at 1 am. We already know he has very mild puppy on the street related ptsd so I wouldn't be surprised if the CCD gets triggered by nightmares.

Idk where this is going I'm a very tired paw parent.

#canine mental health #canine compulsive disorder #dog mom #pit bull #pittie love #pix talks real life

7 notes · View notes

itsyourstarboy · 2 years

Text

WHAM

✨Babe OC✨

Baaabe is up next in my redacted listeners! I love how she came out, she’s gorgeous ❤️

Info about them under the cut!

Hot damn 🥵🥵

My Babe is named Pixie and uses she/they pronouns

💅Demigirl💅

5’4”

😳shawty😳

Her hair is naturally blonde, and she dyes it with cheap box dye. The dye is usually a vibrant hot pink when she first puts it in, but after a week it’s already faded into that streaky pastel pink

E-girl babey 🖤

She is dominant most of the time when it comes to sexual intimacy, but very submissive when it comes to basic affection. Poor thing doesn’t know how to handle a compliment.

Tell her she’s pretty and she blue screens

She keeps to herself a lot, having been raised to only speak when spoken to, but if you get her talking she is loud.

Pix just wants to be heard

Their laugh is described as obnoxious by some, but Ash loves it.

It’s a very contagious laugh

Her love language is teasing, so if you think she’s bullying you, she’s actually flirting.

Ash wears one of those bracelets that is locked onto his wrist, and she has the key on a necklace <3

They work middle management at their office job, and they hate it.

However, they’re good at it and it pays well, so they don’t see a reason for leaving.

They’re a master at painting, she’s been practicing for over 10 years.

If she could, she would make a career out of it, but she thinks she can’t.

It was kinda instilled in her from a young age that art isn’t a real job...

Ash has tried to encourage them to profit off of their work, but his attempts have proven fruitless.

She’s definitely painted Ash in the nude (more than once)

The first time, he was just trying to be funny, and stripped in front of their canvas going, “paint me like one of your French girls”.

She was like, “okay, bet,” and now there’s a portrait of Asher hanging in their bathroom.

Milo refuses to use the bathroom when he’s over there.

30% sweet; 15% silly; 40% mom friend; 5% organized; 20% horny

They can’t fight for the life of them, I’m sorry.

She jumps at everything, especially loud noises.

She’ll drop something and her hands immediately fly to her chest to curl into herself as she preemptively flinches at the dreaded clang of object hitting floor.

She can, however, run very fast

And scream very loud

They are so tired of pizza and wings but don’t have the heart to tell Ash, so they just make sure they have dinner plans for every night.

They have some basic cooking skills, not the best, but better than their mate so it’ll do.

She is the BIGGEST sucker for Ash when he’s excited about something. Like she can’t bring herself to ever burst his bubble.

If there’s a movie coming out that she thinks looks like shit, but Ash is really excited about it, she will toughen up and go see the movie with him.

If it ends up being a good movie, sweet! The two of them had an enjoyable date night and now they can discuss the movie on the way home

If the movie ends up being as bad as Pixie predicted, she will have to physically restrain herself from making out with Ash in the theater (because she may be bored, but he’s not)

They’ll leave the movie and Ash will be chatting a mile a minute about everything he loved about it, and they’ll just smile and nod, because they may not have had a good time but Ash is really cute so they don’t care.

But if Ash genuinely asks for their opinion, they’ll be honest.

Just not as brutally as they’d prefer.

She has social anxiety, but she’s used to dealing with it since she works around so many people.

That, and she’s an extrovert, so she has to socialize sometime.

On bad days, where they get headaches from the stress, they’ll wear soft, comfy clothes (which prompts Ash for cuddles because soft, comfy babe)

If she’s at work on these days, Ash will surprise her by showing up during her lunch break with her favorite foods <3

Pet names for Asher include: Hun, Baby, Bugs, Boog, Puppy

They want a chinchilla.

Ash has a fear of chinchillas.

31 notes · View notes

charlie-emily-fr · 11 months

Text

Hiya, I'm Charlotte aka Charlie ('Char' and 'Lotte' also work), pronouns he/him + pix/pixel/pixels + a few others if you want to know me and I guessss I'm a game-FNAF fictionheart?

It's complicated. "Fictionheart" doesn't really seem to describe how I feel and what I experience, but it's the closest term I've found. I experience the world of FNAF, and often real life, through Charlie. My character preferences in FNAF rely solely on what she thinks. And yeah like I said, oftentimes her preferences extend to my real life too (don't ask how I got into The Muppets- hint: it's all bc of Charlie)

I feel simultaneously that I am her and that I am just... me.

Like I said, it's complicated.

Anyway um I'm very open to chat!! Would love to talk to Sammy (brother moments) or Cassidy and Cecil/CC (will also accept those named Evan or otherwise lol) who were my QPPs, and also all my other Friends obviously... Elizabeth and Michael,, along with Susie, Gabriel, Jeremy, and Fritz :)

Anyway thanks for checking this blog out. Again, feel free to reach out about whatever, I'd love to talk to people :p

#charlie emily #fnaf #fnaf kin #fictionkin #fnaf heart #does... is that a phrase i can use #fictionheart #fnaf kin charlie #fnaf fictionkin #fnaf irl

7 notes · View notes

majickth · 1 year

Note

Hey Majick, interested in your au your currently writing rn? Could you give us some stuff about the empires emperors and what their life is after the whole door incident?

Heck yea!!

Pix — post incident, hes got a background in archeological research and works as a history professor at a pretty prestigious uni. Ironically good about putting the past behind him. He’s the first to leave the group, having been pulled out of the school by his parents, but also the first one found by False.

Scott — he runs a small antique shop. hes learned to move on from a lot of things: his brother, his old crush, losing an eye (wears a prosthetic now, a purposefully flashy thing whose origin always changes depending on who he’s telling the story to; it’s never the real reason though)

Pearl — even after the incident, shes the only one who continues to return to the garden. 10 years later, she’s a janitor for Imperium, happy enough with the job (according to her strange musically inclined roommate that is). but she’s always yearning for something more. so one night she just disappears, nothing left behind but strange letters and an amnesiac to deliver them.

Sausage — he starts off as a bit of a rebel. not exactly a punk, but definitely an outsider of sorts. his only real friend is pearl. As an adult, though, he’s come to terms with a lot of things and now runs a sorta safehouse for kids who were like him. he’s even got a son now (it’s joel’s kid but that’s a whole thing to get into). Hes still friends with pearl and deadset on finding her

Joel — he wanted to be an artist; instead he inherits his fathers company, Stratos. hes rich, powerful, hes even got a family now (with sausage but, again, that’s a whole thing). comparatively, hes doing well for himself, except…he’s not happy. hes missing something, or rather that he left something behind. Or maybe something left him behind

Lizzie — before, she was captain of the swim team, but injuries sustained during The Incident forced her to drop out. As an adult, she works as a vet tech, which is a nice enough job. although she may tend to exaggerate a bit when talking to old friends (a lot actually, she’s lied about being mayor of a town and now she shes stuck with a mask of her own making)

Jimmy — he’s a sheriff. sorta. technically. so hes not an actual sheriff, but he does play one at a Wild West themed amusement park. And it’s a fun job! but when joel or fwhip are asking questions, its not the sort of answer he wants to give, not yet anyways.

Fwhip — a technician of sorts. he specializes in making flashy things: light fixtures, displays, special effects. his designs are eye catching. but rarely are they ever practical; thankfully, with ties to the filmmaking industry, his clients want flashy. he’s still in contact with jimmy despite their spotty relationship.

Gem — she hasnt forgotten The Incident, though she finds it easier to process when she pretends that all of that was just some elaborate play. Fittingly, she’s an up-and-coming actress whose most recent role involves playing a princess.

Joey — hes still looking for a thrill, that same rush as before when he was exploring another world. he travels, mostly by boat, occasionally doing jobs for people like ferrying them around. sometimes he smuggles things, but that’s neither here nor there and definitely not something he’d say aloud.

Shelby — she was expelled from the school following the incident, a mix of failing grades and being caught in restricted areas. She runs a small flower shop with Katherine.

Katherine — was part of the unofficial official gardening club with Shelby, Sausage, and Pearl. The Incident pushed her into wanting to protect the people in her life, especially her roommate/business partner Shelby. Has secretly been learning to fight and occasionally moonlights as a bodyguard for hire.

Oli — he’s in crippling debt! A struggling musician and pearl’s roommate. has no idea what’s going on but he’s here for the ride! A surprising voice of reason and an outsider pov for everything

#some of them I only have a vague idea for #others im more solid on #also sorry this took so long to answer Akdksks #the garden AU #empires #empires AU #empires smp

18 notes · View notes

boliv-jenta · 2 years

Text

Writer appreciation/350 followers celebration/general out pouring of love.

Feeling super overwhelmed from the Fanfiction Writer Appreciation Day tags (I didn't even know it was a thing.) and from the tags/likes/reblogs/comments/followers in general. Rather than replay individually or rush to make my own writer appreciation post, I thought I'd show my appreciation for everyone and explain why I appreciation you all.

TL:DR version you make my neurodivergent brain happy and I love you all.

Long version...

I make no secret of the fact that I'm neurodivergent. It's in my bio, my work. Let me give you a little insight into what that means in my brain.

There's a myth about Autism and lack of empathy. I empathise just fine. I can pick up on people's emotion and motivation. I can unpick behaviour. What I do struggle with it putting myself in other people's minds.

I know that I think about other writers and mutuals but I can't get my head around that they think about me. Poor Theory of Mind plus low self esteem makes it really difficult to accept that you see me they way I see you guys.

I also struggle to getting to know people, I always relate things that people say to something about me. I'm not trying to make it about me, I'm trying to show that I understand. I also info dump about my interests. It's kind of like me going "Here, here's what I like. This is me. Now show me you." I'm trying to connect.

I know that these can be seen as annoying personalitly traits. I'm aware when I do them but they tumble out anyway and I cringe about it later, even though I shouldn't because they are perfect valid ways to relate. See above about self esteem.

Enter Tumblr, where we just basically just go "This is me. Is this you too? Let's be friends. Let me info dump my hyperfixations all over you. Let me bathe in yours." Plus there's not pressure to be present my mind can wander with I'll talk to people here. I'm comfortable in my own home while I do. It's such a low demand way to connect to people. I can retreat from my real life to relax for a bit without isolating myself.

It is really a gift to me and you are all the ones that had created it for me. Thank you so much. I enjoy all our interactions.

Thank you to the amazing writers who make these incredible world for me to escape to. Your talent and passion shine through in your work, you should be immensely proud of yourselves. I love how supportive you all are. I see than some people on here have written books, some have maybe written a short fic or two but I've never seen any division. We are all writers and we all support each other. Thank you for just being awesome people.

Thank you for all the work that you guys create, the talent that you share with us, the gifts that you share.

I'm not just talking about creators. Some of you are gifted with the ability to say the nicest things. Thank you for the positivity you give out. Thank you for the support and love when my brain doesn't want to give me the happy chemicals, or recycles them to quickly (Cheers ADHD).

Thank you for the tags, the inclusion, the advice. Thank you to the avid follows who make me feel special.

Most importantly to me thank you for allowing my conditions, that in a neurotypical world are seen as weaknesses, be what they really are, strengths. Thank you enjoying what my creative, hyperfixating, super charged brain can produce. Thank you for making me feel at home.😘

And most, most importantly, thank you for the Pedro-tonin.😜

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @misspearly1 @aynsleywalker @micheleamidalajedi @supernaturalgirl20 @pedropascalsx @i-love-movies @ellenmunn @movievillainess721 @amneris21 @littlemousedroid @charnelhouse @oonajaeadira @leslie-lyman @blueeyesatnight @brandyllyn @adancedivasmom @pix-writes @ithinkwehitametaphor

and everyone else. Sorry if I forgot a tag, my memory isn't my strong suit.

24 notes · View notes

originalbydondria · 8 months

Text

The Void, The Exhaustion, and Affirmations

Here's the final thought to the posts from before...

I spent my entire life encouraging myself. I have been burned out and pouring fumes into myself since my age had a 1 in front of it - it's a 3 now so do I need to say I am tired?

At the risk of turning this into a conversation about validation let me just say this - we all need and want it. Yes, it should come from or at least start from within, but it helps to also get a boost, a pouring from elsewhere.

I'm from Southern California so I can only liken it to the days difference before and after pix of damn that's dry/low natural water spurces to OMG THE DELUGE post-rain pix that happened earlier this year. I am currently in the the where tf did the water go side of this thing. Whatever. Because this, this very act of writing and formating and hitting publish to drop this thing off into the void. I'm going to get into what you might be thinking of my persistent use of this word soon.

The fact of the matter is writing, creating anything uses up some kind of energy. Even when it energizes, something is being used up. Time. Space. Quiet. And thankfully, each new day is a replenishment of these and other things. Or at least you hope it is. That the drag towards Monday doesn't create a contiuation of tired on Tuesday. Lucky, privleged, and blessed is the writer that can and only has to do that - to create. And I find a lot of the advice types do exactly that and seem to not acknowledge know or understand that MOST of us have to balance this with various draining faucets of life - work, family, friends, bills, health, spiritual things, mental things, etc... But I talked about this already.

I hate affirmations. I already know things can and will be better. I don't need to be affirmed. I want to see and experience it for myself. I already know I am awesome. I just want to feel it. I already know that this post is good or I wouldnt have hit publish. It would be nice to see some evidence of that. It would be nice to get something poured in to pour back out.

So here I address the void. The internet is just that. There are millions if not billions of pages and people and bots and blogs and pictures and posts and thoughts and feelings that create this never-ending bottomless pit of content for any and everybody to wade around in. I imagine if we lived to old testatment level ages, all of that time still wouldn't be enough to see everything. And there is nothing wrong with that. But that is why I call it a void. Because it is. No different than saying sky is the limit. Because it is. Unless you know how to get to space.

So I am trying to believe in the build it and they will come just by doing this. And honestly, none of ths is easy and honestly, it doesn't always feel like any post will float on top of the void. And no, I do not want to risk the expense of fume fueled energy on a real project (I do fiction btw *link to story here https://www.tumblr.com/originalbydondria/631790156302729216/will-they-even-read-it?source=share*) that is just going to drop off into nothing. But I press on because in that cloud of fumes and exhaustion is just enough residue, that stubborn inexhaustible drop of fuel that I can only call purpose, that keeps my dumbass coming back here to the silence of the posted piece.

D. Ondria

08172023 (originally written. Remembered to post 09172023)

#ecosystem of creatives #african american writers #blackgirlmagic #african american authors #originalbydondria #black writers #creative writing #black creatives #black women writers #original by d ondria

2 notes · View notes

empires-au-ideas · 2 years

Note

Okay, so we’ve talked about wanderer!scotts fighting style, but what about everyone else’s?

I imagine Pix is the the most ‘normal’ fighter out of everyone

He’s well rounded and has all the technical techniques down to a science

Shrub would probably have an odder fighting style

She’s quick on her feet, but not in the same was Scott is

I imagine she sort of throw herself around like a human projectile as gnomes are a lot sturdier than most other races

Fwhip would probably avoid hand to hand fighting, preferring to use his inventions to fight

Like using rocket launching drones or something

Gem also doesn’t do hand to hand very often, preferring to use magic

Though I’d imagine she’s be a bit better than Fwhip at hand to hand

Pearl is an absolute beast with a sword, by far the best fighter out of everyone

She has the perfect mix of technical skill and unpredictability that makes her practically impossible to defend against

Jimmy on the other hand isn’t the best technical fighter

He’s not bad, but his strength lies in the way he moves

His movements are a bit jerky and stiff but his lack of real technical prowess makes it extremely difficult to predict his moves and block

Sausage is a good fighter, he had the technical skill from being raised royal

But he lacks the confidence to truly use that skill to its full potential, often fumbling under the pressure

Lizzie fights with a trident (you can pry this from my cold dead hands)

Most people don’t really use tridents so most people don’t know how to defend against them, making it quite easy for Lizzie to win

Joel is a slightly lazy fighter

He’s not bad, he’s actually quite good

He just doesn’t fight unless he absolutely has to

Xornoth uses brute strength and not much else

He has training in technical skills but after Exor’s blessing he sees no use for using them when he can just hit till it breaks

This means he lost some of those skills as time went on

(I would put Joey but we don’t know much about him in the au so I can’t really analyze)

Pix: kids these days, with their weird fighting styles.

Wgknsfk no, Pix is surprisingly well rounded in a lot of the empires' fighting styles, wandering trader after all. He can't do a lot of it himself just cuz he couldn't get it quite down, but he very feezably could teach any style.

Shrub is a close range fighter as in gnomes literally will just ram into people. But it's sort of like CLOSE close, where you're too close to another person's body for them to effectively do much. Gnomes are also good with bows and stuff though as many things in the nether use this fighting style, so gnomes discovered keeping adversaries at a distance is generally a good idea.

Give Fwhip a gun. This is a good idea.

But Fwhip is very clumsy, he only has upper body strength to make weapons to experiment alchemy on in a forge and that's it. He's definetly experimented with making weird crossbows or even like you said, flying drones.

Gem is only good at hand to hand as in she has spells that make punches do extra/different types of damage. None of the ranged spells she has are actually combatant, but her travels combined with Pix's gives her a few fire and lightning spells to use at long distances.

Pearl is a beast. She's been training her whole life to challenge the queen for the throne pretty much. She's a quick thinker and she's very sturdy, she has a good grip on a broad sword and while she can predict what an opponent will do, she's pretty unpredictable herself. Her teacher had like his own fighting style maybe, one that didn't belong to any empire so no one knows how to combat it.

Jimmy moves like... he moves like a Loony Toons character would be the best way to describe it. He is very good at dodging attacks and can freaking parry projectiles out of the air, but he packs no punch.

Sausage uses a lot of finesse weapons (assassin go brrr) so he's good at fencing and rapiers and such. But he IS quite inconfident, especially after a week of Xornoth breathing down his neck. Sausage actually has a bit of natural magic, and can cast a few necromancy cantrips.

Lizzie can disarm anyone like. It's a bit scary. With her trident it's easy to lock weapons and then push and parry them to the side. And the only people who use tridents are usually the Ocean Empire and SOME of the Cod Empire (and then also Pix for some reason) so it's easy for her to trip people up.

Joel is actually a very good fist fighter and has brass knuckles, the only other weapon he's trained in is a short sword though. He does challenge people to fist fights a lot but no one ever thinks he's serious so he's out of practice sgjkfwgo

Xornoth was especially trained in long swords and big battle axes. But they very much care less about technique when a big deer is multiplying their strength by twenty. Under Exor they also have a sort of teleportation ability (like Hunter in toh).

Joey's a prince and very very much acts like it, so he doesn't really fight, but he knows a few knife/axe throwing party tricks. The Lost Empire's usually deals in poison darts and throwing weapons like that either way.

#empires smp au #empires smp s1 #the cold wanderer au #ask: au add on #8teddy-bear8

18 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

heisntjustakid

Liamness...kinda

hella-hells

Howdy

journeynotadestination

Don't Let The Waves Hold You Back

hollowgears

Brainrot hollow

sriman24

Untitled