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#shan't dwell
wisteriagoesvroom · 2 months
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he will do what it takes to survive
a quick brocedes web weave to burn
& thank you @blueballsracing and @theommin for helping push me to finish this
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tracybirds · 5 months
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I know I said this yesterday but it's beginning to feel like Christmas for real with my Sydney family having arrived! I was SO happy to see them last night and we're hanging out all day today and I haven't seen them since before covid so this is the most special thing!! Thank you to @gumnut-logic for reading through the first part of it, although I must admit to running wild this morning with the last part so any weirdness there you can blame squarely on me haha <3
[Day 1] | [Day 2] | [Day 3 - you are here]
Five Days Where Christmas Didn't Seem To Go As Planned
Day Three
Gordon shoved Alan’s shoulder roughly as he walked past, causing Alan to yelp as he overbalanced, nearly falling out of the chair.
“Gordon, play nicely,” said Virgil, frowning.
Typically, Gordon ignored him, tapping his brother’s cheek.
Alan groaned. It had been a long night, called out in the early evening only to return home as the sun peeked over the horizon once more.
“It’s comfy here,” he muttered, turning to nestle his cheek into the curved edge of the chair.
“Yeah, sure bud,” said Gordon, rolling his eyes. “Come on, let’s go Al, those showers have our names on ‘em.”
Virgil yawned.
“I can carry you if you like,” he offered, perfectly earnest.
Alan’s eyes flew open. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he grumbled. “Kayo laughed at me for a week the last time, don’t you dare pick me up.”
He dragged himself across the cockpit, staring blankly into thin air in a daze. Preoccupied with the thought of a hot shower and a morning nap with the sea breeze flowing through with windows, he hardly noticed the figure waiting for them impatiently as the hydraulic lift lowered them into the hangar.
“Scott?” asked Virgil, and Alan snapped back to attention. He’d expected Scott to vanish long before Two made it back to Tracy Island, with no issues that arose during the mission and debrief scheduled for later that day.
Freshly focused, Alan could tell that something wasn’t right, enough that Scott had waited for them and was now speaking urgently to them all. Alan blinked, trying to shape the sounds into words, and it was only when he yawned widely and his ear popped that things fell into place.
“I just needed to head you off before you head upstairs,” said Scott, looking mildly disgusted. “I got out of the elevator and had to come straight back down, it was only luck that she didn’t spot me.”
“Well, we’re all experts in hiding from Grandma and her baking now,” said Gordon, grinning. “Hey Virg, let’s go crash in Brains’ rooms, he’s been wanting to marathon those old school scifi-horrors.” He wriggled his fingers at Virgil. “Oooh, I’m a space alien here to take over your mind. Go forth, do my laundry for a week.”
“He’ll uninvite you if you’re going to be annoying about it,” said Virgil, with a long-suffering sigh. “Thanks for the warning, Scott. We’ll stay low for a few hours.”
Alan, meanwhile, was thinking hard.
He swayed a little, fighting the temptation to close his eyes, searching every scrap of memory, because something about what Scott was describing sounded uncomfortably close to home.
“Grandma’s been baking?”
Scott and Virgil exchanged a glance.
“Keep up, Al,” said Gordon impatiently.
Only Alan had one piece of information that his brothers didn’t.
When the siren had gone off and they’d gathered in the living room, Alan had been baking cookies for Christmas. He’d meant for it to be a surprise.
And he’d turned the oven off, he was sure of it, even through a distorted haze of exhaustion, he could remember the temperature dial spinning under his fingers before he raced upstairs, but maybe it hadn’t gone all the way and even as they’d flown out, his cookies were slowly starting to brown, then blacken into a crisp.
He could have burnt the house down.
He sat down suddenly, right there on the floor.
“Alan!” cried three voices, and he batted them away.
“You’ve gone white as a sheet,” said Virgil, frowning as he crouched next to him. He reached out a hand, feeling for his forehead and Alan rolled his eyes.
“Get off me, I’m just tired,” he said, feeling slightly sick. He couldn’t let them find out, he needed to get out of here.
“Look, Grandma won’t ambush me like this, she’ll just want me in bed. Which is where I want to be too, so if you guys want to hide away instead, be my guest.”
He wasn’t even lying, and he rubbed at the grit forming in his eyes, allowing a yawn to take over his entire body.
“I’ll take you,” said Scott reluctantly, and Alan felt a twinge of irritation twitching below his eye.
“You don’t need to escort me,” he snapped, getting back to his feet. “I can manage it.”
He scowled at each of them, putting as much fierceness into the glare as he could.
For a second, he thought Scott and Virgil would continue to argue, but Gordon leapt in before they had the chance.
“You guys promised you’d treat him like an adult when he’s wearing the uniform,” he reminded them. “Are either of you going to start volunteering to be supervised in the shower and tucked in tight? I’ll do it, I don’t care.”
 Alan shot Gordon a grateful look.
“I’m going to bed then,” said Alan, and he spun on his heel and walked slowly and calmly towards the elevator door.
That is to say, he bolted.
When the doors next opened, Alan found Scott hadn’t been kidding about the smell, the smoke still evident despite the air being cleared.
He ran down the steps two at a time, holding his breath as he skidded into the kitchen.
Kayo looked up from the magazine she’d been reading and put it aside.
“So,” she said. “These are yours. I’m assuming they’re not chocolate.”
She swung around a plate of dark brown cookies, burnt black where the butter had melted onto the tray while baking.
Alan collapsed onto the barstool next to her.
“Is it bad?”
Kayo shrugged. “They’re just burnt. Nothing major.” She grinned, her eyes sharp and mischievous. “I saw Scott making his escape earlier. Did he come down to warn you all away?”
Alan could only nod miserably.
“Do you think it’s genetic?” he asked. “I just wanted to do something nice.”
“The only thing you did wrong was not pull the tray from the oven when you turned it off,” Kayo said cheerfully. She chose one of the cookies and neatly broke it in half. “See? They’re not burnt burnt, they’re just a tad overdone. I spotted them when Grandma was preheating the oven earlier and rescued them for you.”
Alan lifted his head, hope stirring in his chest. “So, the smoke?”
“Oh, that was all Grandma.” She bit into the end of the cookie and pulled a face. “These aren’t that great either, if I’m being honest.”
“Well, thanks,” said Alan, feeling stung. He yawned. “I suppose we should just chuck them then.”
“We can probably save them for something,” said Kayo. “Make them into ornaments or something.”
She jostled his shoulder. “What’s up though, Al? You didn’t come racing up here because of bad biscuits.”
“I kinda did,” said Alan. “I dunno, I thought maybe a fire had started. Like if something went wrong here, it’d be all my fault.” He yawned again. “I guess that seems silly.”
Kayo slung an arm around him, pulling him into a hug.
“We can handle your mistakes, Alan. Best part of being one of the youngest is everyone else has already made them and they’ll help you out. It’s not all on you.”
“Does that mean the others have all nearly burnt the house down?”
She grinned down at him. “Oh, the stories I could tell if I weren’t sworn to secrecy.”
Alan grinned back, a spark of mischief shaking off the bleariness momentarily. “I can keep a secret. Was it Virgil? John?”
“You’re getting nothing out of me,” said Kayo with a laugh. “Go to bed, Alan. We’ll fix these when you can sit in that chair without falling onto your face.”
He slipped down from the stool and stumbled, the sway of exhaustion rushing up to meet him once more.
“I might need a little help,” he admitted. “Promise you won’t tell Scott?”
Kayo mimed locking her lips and smiled at him, fond and warm.
“I promise.”
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helshades · 6 months
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It must hurt to be as ignorant as you are all over this website for the world to see 🧐
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loving-jack-kelly · 1 year
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i have 5 final projects due in the next two weeks and three of them are due on the same day lmao. lmao. lmao.
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porciaenjoyer · 1 year
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how i feel about my teacher sometimes!!!!
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ghostzvne · 1 year
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posts danny makes that make it obvious she's seen people be wrong on the internet recently
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it is wild how misogyny infects even the smallest of fandoms
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saanphoenix · 9 months
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Can you elaborate on what you mean by VII runs on Eastern mentality? I'm curious on your thought process on that :)
I will preface this answer by first asking folks to acknowledge that FFVII takes a lot of inspiration from a bunch of cultures and religions and throws it all into one big pot and stirs it up into a nice stew. Therefore, any likeness to any existing culture/religion is just that--a likeness. Not a carbon copy.
Now, Sephiroth is named for the Sefirot which is Kabbalistic which is Jewish which is connected with Christianity which has the angels and fallen angels and Heaven and Hell. You got the Ten Commandments and a whole buncha rules about what you can and can't do or else your soul has a bad time in Hell. Due to Christianization, I feel a lot of people know this and thus I shan't dwell on the specifics too long.
...There is no Heaven or Hell or God in FFVII. That's not a thing. There is the Lifestream. And one could argue that Minerva is a goddess because she is the face and mouthpiece of the Will of the Planet...but she's modeled after a Roman goddess, so like. Eh.
And everyone and everything that dies goes to the Lifestream. It doesn't matter if you're a war criminal or a saint, you all go into the fucking spirit soup. And, ultimately, your memories are absorbed, and your spirit energy gets recycled to birth new things.
So, like...without a heaven or hell, redemption and forgiveness doesn't quite work the same on a cosmic level. If at all. For all intents and purposes, the Lifestream doesn't give a shit. Unless you're Negative.
Now, y'see, in VII land, there is Lifestream and Negative Lifestream, and the latter is a little bit newer to the planet on account of it being tied to Jenova. And Sephioth. And despair. And Geostigma.
All the negativity, all the people who died in misery, start to join this darker flow of Lifestream that the planet cannot cleanse on its own and the only way to help those poor, unfortunate souls is for Aerith and her long-dead Cetran relatives to give the freshly deceased some gentle therapy sessions.
And there's also Stagnant Lifestream, which is a slightly different beast, brought up in Dirge of Cerberus. It is the Stagnant Lifestream that births Chaos.
...... The Lifestream and all its machinations are so very, very Shinto.
Running water? Pure. Stagnant water? Unpure. You commit certain acts that taint you? Go get purified, idiot.
I'm grossly simplifying it, but I ain't got the time to expound, what with four minutes remaining on my lunch break.
Sephiroth may have committed terrible crimes that a Western ideology can never forgive, but VII ain't running on that ideology, it's running on the concept of the Lifestream is the most non-judgmental blender of human souls imaginable and the end goal is to shed your burdens, your memories, be purified in that wonderful flow, and let Life happen.
Thus redemption in the form of purification for Sephiroth is possible, regardless of what he's done, if he chooses to allow himself to join the flow and be purified. If he gets that spiritual therapy he needs, no amount of, "But he killed Cloud's mother!" is gonna stop him from being 'redeemed' in the planet's eyes.
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doxypsychlean · 2 years
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Was there ever a time, ever a moment?
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Pairings: Aemond Targaryen X OC
Summary: "That bastard truly loves her. And she's been toying with him this whole time"
Warnings: Explicit language(more will be added later on, gotta come up w it first)
Multiple Chapters
Previous chapter/s: 1 , 2
Next chapter/s: 4
Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!
English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.
A/n: We do NO blinking in this establishment! Gotta get our eyes all nice and dry. There's some translation of the Asshai'i down below btw. Wasn't sure what to do w it tbh, but I felt like trying to fit it btwn the actual convo would be too much to deal w.
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It was days like this one that made the young woman regret ever leaving her home. King's Landing weather did not agree with her, nor did she with it. It was always too hot, too sunny. She was used to the cold Asshai days and even colder nights.
Although the Shadow city was as southeast as Essos goes, the weather there had always been on the colder side. The thick blankets of black clouds that stood watch over the city did not let any light pass through.
Another thing she was starting to miss dearly was how silent Asshai was in comparison. It's sheer size was massive, said to be great enough to contain all of King's Landing, Oldtown, Volantis and Qarth within its walls combined. The population however, was low. Low enough for a person to spend their entire day walking around without encountering another soul. And even if they did, the locals stayed out of eachother's way. They did not spend their time hiding in the shadows. They were the shadows.
Shadows with some busy lifestyles, that is. Everyone had somewhere to be. Something to do. No distractions. The Asshai'i were devoted to their craft. There were no children around to scream their lungs out or babble to no end. There were no birds to chirp happily in the trees. In fact, there were no animals in the Shadow. They'd all die within a day of being brought into the city. Only thing they had were blind, deformed fish that dwelled in the contaminated waters of the Ash, only madmen would dare consume.
For her and for few others Asshai was Heaven on Earth. Quiet, as peaceful as it would allow and mostly importantly- one was free to do as they wished. As long as they had the necessary means. As long as they possessed the power.
"Salen guenhwyvār xen'h Nevae."
Rebonna sensed their presence long before they even appeared behind her.
"Āeksio salen." The two shadows siad in unison.
"Kav othok emā nesh syt tel'quien tha?" Rebonna asked, never stopping to look at them. All the while pretending she did not see the silver haired man watching them from afar. About time.
The two creatures walking close behind her did not say anything. Not that they had to, she already knew what they answer would be.
"...Sýrí?"
"Āeksio salen, eron iksis daor narom a feer...Thamar saz'gon daor." The taller one's voice reached her ears . His dull eyes were staring at hers. Never blinking.
The woman stopped and turned to face the two. They held her gaze. Doing the opposite in such a moment would be a fatal mistake. They knew what happened to cowards.
"Essa mirith, guenhwyvar salen. Aeth tha eron iksis maleē bithreem."
Silence fell upon the halls of the Red Keep. They could all hear him now. He thought himself a skilled, great warrior. One of great vigor and low-cunning. Yet he walked around the place as if he were purposely trying to get his cover blown.
"Āeksio salen...Mirri eno iksis egzieā thamar."
Rebonna circled around her servants, so she could stand between the two. She grabbed each of their arms and pushed them forward,the skirts of her dress trailing behind her as she sped up.
"Tha millentu rumol issa. Ha'ave kav othok, guenhwyvar salen. Thamar keskidosso ti." She let out a laugh. Her eyes were not laughing though. She did not appreciate him meddling.
"Mero thamar...?" The one on her right asked.
"Daor neh-akh, Enek. Kāolin issa naeot, tha ledā zyrelá sen thaóla. Giś forbin."
"Hae othok ukasire, Āeksio salen." Enek agreed. He picked up the pace, so did Beliz.
They walked through the halls for a bit, trying their best not to think of the scorching sun outside.
"Ziry iksos iā gevie den...othok umbagon issa daor harev tha. Harāth. Adelan o ivestragon se hama, tezo Nevae ono othok kav soliz tha. Ukairth iorwe issa."
"Yare, Āeksio salen." The two creatures responded.
Enek dissappeared without saying a word, leaving but a trail of black smoke where he once stood. His disdain for this foreign land was more than obvious. Rebonna felt the same. She had to stay here though. Just for a bit longer. But she couldn't force her shadows to do the same. It wouldn't be fair to them.
While the Master of Shadows was getting lost in her own thoughts, her loyal servant had allowed himself to turn and face the young prince that was following them. Their eyes met. He could sense it. The jealousy, the possessiveness, the questions, the distrust, the slight hints of anger. All bubbling inside.
"Othok io vesnābi havve, morgon salen. Tanaka vesnābi." He said while still looking at the silver haired stranger. "Sen daor keskidossa linta,  zāh se tolie kessa. Enok ov latruum."
"Othok ukasire tha eron?" The lady let out another laugh "...Thamar pendagon ēma ukam, nek-akh vallo. Sem harāth, kav daor ez onast fuihiniv."
"We'll see you soon, friend." Beliz was gone as well. Rebonna kept pushing forward, she was almost out of the Red Keep and into the godswoods.
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Not long after she reached the Weirwood. So many years had passed. She couldn't help but feel like they were still watching. She stood still, watching as the wind raced between the red leaves.
"Do you remember the last time I saw one of your...?" She trailed off. "My Prince."
"My lady." Aemond cleared his throat, his fingers fidgeting.
"I haven't seen you since the feast."
He took another step towards her. All he wanted to do was take her in his arms. Be able to touch her. Just like those strangers had.
He was drawn to her, like a moth is to a flame. Everything in his being screamed, pleaded for him not to do it. It was unnatural. One side of him found it odd how close he felt to her, to someone he'd only seen once in his whole life. The other side of him couldn't care less. All he wanted was her. All he wanted was to make her laugh like she did at that feast. Like she did with those two mysterious strangers. He needed to hear all the stories she had to tell- of the foreign land she came from, of her past, of the strange tongue she spoke in. Of those strange creautures that had the ability to dissappear into thin air.
"For which I am filled with more sorrow than you could ever imagine, my lady. There were matters in need of attending to."
In reality, the silver haired prince had tried to avoid her as much as possible after the conversation he had with his mother, the Queen. She was right. He knew nothing of her. Of her people. He had to be careful.
The prince tried to find as much information on the Asshai'i before he had to face her again. But the Westerosi rarely ventured that far east. And when they did, they almost never made it back. The Shadows either swallowed them or drove them to insanity.
If he had to be honest, he was scared. All these unfamiliar emotions made him feel overwhelmed. She was a stranger. Not to be trusted. Yet.
Even so, Aemond felt shame tug at his heart. He should have been spending more time with his betrothed. Damned be the council meetings, the training sessions with Cole, his studies and all his other excuses. He should be with her. Maybe he would've found some answers by now, had he not tried to hide from her like a scared little boy...
"I... You are to be my wife. I should be spending more time with you. I apologize. "
"No need, my prince." She finally turned to look at him, the prince freezing in place. "And I beg of you, adress me by my name."
"Only if you'd do me the honor first, my-"
She was looking at him, one eyebrow raised and a mischievous grin lighting up her face. The void her eyes were fixed on him.
"-Rebonna." The prince corrected himself.
"Yours."
His heart felt like it was about to explode into million tiny pieces any second now. His. His.
"Care to take a walk with me?" Rebonna asked, her eyes searching his.
The man's arm shot up so fast, it didn't even register to him he had moved.
"Let's go then." Soft giggle made it's way out past her lips, her hand finding it's way around his, just like it did the night of the feast.
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Lady Vessard did not expect for it to be so easy to get the gorgeous prince to open up to her. From what she'd heard about him, he was an ill-tempered, stubborn and distant. With her, he was dashing, thoughtful and eager to tell her as much about himself as he could. Of course, Aemond made sure to leave out the unpleasant memories. There was more than enough time for that, his betrothed was not worried. If she could trick him into telling her that much with only having met once prior to this leisurely stroll, she'd be getting everything she needed out of him in no time.
The short walk in the gardens had turned into a whole tour around the Red Keep. The prince couldn't stop talking. He told her the story of how he'd claimed his dragon,Vhagar, and the excitement of getting to ride her for the first time. As a student of history, the mention of Vhagar led to him telling her of all the dragons that came before her. Like Balerion the Black Dread, his father's dragon. The only memory that was left of Old Valyria, his skull now decorating the rat-infested dungeons. Then came the topic of Valyria itself. Rebonna listened to him w half a ear. Unlike the young Targaryen, she'd had the pleasure of seeing the city at it's strongest. She didn't need to hear tales of it, especially from someone like him.
Prince Aemond was baring himself to her without even realizing it. It was the simplest of things that made him most vulnerable to her power. The feeling of her gentle hand around his forearm was enough to keep the satisfied smirk on his face and any rational thought out of his head. He was doing all the work for her. So easy.
He didn't notice she'd completely stopped listening to him at first. Her eyes were going over every crack and crevice of the Red Keep, never stopping at one place for too long, never blinking. As if she was afraid she'd miss something.
"Rebonna?"
Her hand had dropped back to her side. Aemond was standing in front of her now, searching her face.
"Hm?"
"Am I boring you?" A wave of sadness and insecurity, then one of confusion flashed across his face in the matter of a split second second.
"Oh Aemond, never! I have simply had a tiring day. I have yet to get used to everything around here. It's a bit..."
"Overwhelming?" He finished her thought for her.
She nodded, gripping his arm once again, just a bit stronger this time. Aemond's face flashed red. She caught him staring at her as they walked, mind blank.
"You must be tired, Rebonna, I apologize..."
"Do you do this often, my prince?"
"What exactly, my lady?"
"Apologizing when you're not at fault" the woman laughed.
She had him backed into a corner. She could see the gears turning in his head, he was about to offer her another apology.
"Oh...I apolo-"
"Brother! Seven Hells, I've been looking for you for hours now! Ah, Lady Vessard! It's so good to see you again!"
The sweet, shy boy in front of her dissappeared in the blink of an eye.
"What is it that you want?" His voice had dropped, eye darting from the woman that was still clinging to him and his brother. If it weren't for her, he would have ripped Aegon's head off with his bare hands.
"Our presence has been requested at the small council meeting." Aegon winked at his brother. "Come now, I'm sure lady Vessard has had enough of you talking her ear off and all that... My lady!"
Prince Aegon grabbed his brother by the sleeve and tried to pull him forward, but Aemond wouldn't budge. His attention had gone back to his wife-to-be, crystal blue eye silently pleading.
"My lady, would you do me the honor of dining with me this evening?"
"Of course, my prince. It'd be my pleasure." She let go of his arm with a sweet smile. Aemond felt sick at the loss of contact. "I'll see you later this evening then?"
He simply nodded. The prince couldn't trust his voice in this moment.
"That would be lovely!"
Aemond nodded again.
"Prince Aemond, Prince Aegon."
The two men were left there to stare at her as she turned the corner and dissappeared into the depths of the Red Keep.
"Told you she won't bite. You should've asked her long ago, instead of sulking and hiding from her"
"One more word..."
"Fine, fine..."
The entire time the two brothers spent walking towards the small council chamber, the younger prince could think of only two things. The feeling of his betrothed wrapped around his arm and what he meant to ask her after he followed her into the godswoods. But he couldn't remember.
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*Translation of the Asshai'i down below*
R: My Shadows of Darkness.
B,E: Master.
R: Have you got anything for me?
R: ...Well?
B: Master, there's no trace of them... We found nothing.
R: It's all right, my shadows. I did not expect them to show their faces this soon.
E: Master... Someone is here.
R: I know exactly who it is. As do you, my shadows. We share the same eyes.
E: Should we...?
R: No need, Enek. If it were to come to this, I would deal with him myself. Keep walking.
E: As you wish, Master.
R: It's a beautiful day, you shouldn't stay here because of me...Go. Get back home and tell the Dark Ones what you told me. It's their move.
B,E: Yes, Master.
B: You're playing a dangerous game, old friend. Extremely dangerous. He may not be able to see through,but the others will...Sooner or later.
R: You think I don't know that...? We'll deal with them accordingly, need be. Now go, do not leave the others waiting.
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greenflamethegf · 1 month
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Hey, hey. I decided to run a game of uncommon world
Uncommon Worlds in a PbtA with a look and feel of d&d, but being much easier to play. This makes it great for new people, so if you want to give TTRPGs a try. Feel free to join. I will be using it as pbp (aka text only) this is generally slower than voice games, but can be fit into between other things. If you are interested, or want to join. Feel free to reach out to me.
You find yourself taking a job from an aspiring mage in a big city. Her name is Lexara and her quest a garden bag. An old and mysterious variant of a bag of holding that could support plant life. She researched its history and believes it got lost somewhere in the abandoned mines not too far from the town. However, the caves run deep and could be dangerous. She will pay a good coin to anyone why can protect her on the way down and back to town.
This will be a relatively light-hearted campaign. That doesn't mean you can avoid difficult decisions, but we shan't dwell on the heartless and the cruel.
I'm also more of a sandbox DM. Meaning a lot of challenges might not have one correct answer, rather be an open-ended question awaiting clever solutions.
I'm specifically not using the alignment system so that there can be more nuisance to some decision, and some grey-grey morality
In terms of RP/Combat/Puzzles. Puzzles will be all over, but many of them will be mysteries that are easier to ignore than solve. There will be plenty of situations easily solved with violence, many of them will have alternative approaches. I would consider it a good table etiquette people attempt them before rushing into combat. In terms of RP, I do encourage pc on pc role-play, but npcs might be a bit limited given just how taxing it can be to control multiple characters in a scean
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beefrobeefcal · 6 months
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To the hater anon: literally why is fat so bad. I want an answer. People write characters taller, buffer, more everything in fics. Why is fat so “fucked up”?
To Nonnie, Love Beefro
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As sucky and shitty as that Nonnie's words were, don't dwell on them. I certainly won't be 💜
I was initially upset by their comments, but as soon as I shared what was said with the Friendos here at the Bistro, I didn't feel so alone & I didn't feel so bad. That Nonnie is clearing going through some things and made the ill-advised choice to project into my ask box; they have been blocked & shan't be back!
And I have not been deterred from churning out fucked-up-fantasies for your reading pleasure.
You-get-what-you-give regards,
Beefro 👌🥩💜
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superlativesamsara · 3 months
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Okay I've been procrastinating long enough and I've got like fifteen minutes of downtime so who wants to learn about Soul, and more specifically spirit particles and the Quincy arts?
Okay, now below the cut, hey there, glad you're interested. Weird shit upfront, Quincy Powers are funky, in that on paper anyone can use them with a focus, they're also hereditary, that is to say, using them extensively will cause gradual, subtle alterations in the makeup of your soul that will allow your children (and theirs and etc) to use the powers. I figure things like blood adoption or inheritance rituals should also transfer this ability retroactively but I've never tested it so good luck have fun there I guess.
Now, without Further Ado! Part 1: What's a Quincy and How Do They Work?
Well essentially, what differentiates a Quincy from a baseline human, is the natural capacity to interact with and to varying extents control spirit particles, which will henceforth be referred to as Reishi. This is accomplished by expenditure of Reiki, spirit energy. Reishi is produced and naturally shed by the souls of all living beings as they grow and mature. In animist worlds, they can probably also come from rocks and stuff that have spirits but, again, never tested, so not relevant to the discussion. Reiki, likewise, is produced by the soul, much like other forms of spiritual energy such as Ki, Hado, etc.
The original original Quincy Order draws its lineage from an incarnate deity, the Soul King, though the specific nature of said deity and their relation to it is variable from universe to universe. What doesn't vary, however, is that the most effective focus for Quincy powers, whether wielded by born Quincy or baseline humanity, is the Soul King's personal crest, a five-pointed cross, typically worn as a silver charm on the wrist. Through this symbol, even those without the natural propensity for such an ability can channel Reiki to manipulate Reishi.
The Quincy Order, in their native universe, were founded by a man with the dubious distinction of housing a large fragment of the soul of the Soul King, granting him great power and strange abilities relating to the forming and manipulation of Reishi. He founded the organization with the intent to protect humanity from the predation of spiritual beings that were commonplace in his world but nigh unheard of in the greater multiverse, so I shan't dwell on them for now. I will however note that, with the aid of the lovely @valorxdrive, I can confirm that Reishi-forged weaponry is effective against Heartless, should that be an issue relevant to your local slice of multiverse.
Anyway, back to the history lesson, given that, at the time, since the abilities were in their infancy, the average Quincy could hardly be expected to stand up to a race of spiritual being all but evolved to predate upon humanity, the order used their newfound powers to forge bows and arrows of spiritual energy, that they might engage their foes from a safer distance. Over time, techniques were invented that would level the playing field, such as abilities that harness Reishi to reinforce the body's strength and durability, and a variation of the flashstep, but despite this fact it remained the traditional Quincy doctrine to primarily favor bows and other forms of ranged weaponry.
But! Now that we've passed the basics of the history lesson (feel free to drop asks in my box if you want more details later) we can move on to the meat of "you keep talking about these powers but how do they actually *work*, Rose?"
Well! Simple, really, once you've got a feel for your spiritual senses (or a focus to do half the work for you). You lightly expand your Reiki into the air around you, saturating the ambient Reishi particles with it, and then you *pull* on that energy to drag the particles along with it into the desired form. Depending on the person, and with extensive practice, you might find that combining your Reiki and Reishi in the proper shapes or formulas will naturally create interesting effects. For example, in the proper ratios, my Reiki turns Reishi shadowy and causes it to take on a vaporous appearance.
Additionally, through practice, one will obtain a sensitivity to the spiritual aspects of the material plane, able to sense spiritual beings or significant expenditures of spiritual power nearby. The range of this is dependent on the person in question and the magnitude of what they're trying to sense.
That's about all I have to ramble without any prompting (again, ask box, right there :D), but as a bit of a tidbit because I know someone wants to ask: yes, you can harden things other than your skin with Reishi. No, I would not recommend trying to stand on air without extensive practice because it is very hard to get the amount of self-applied back force just right.
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palushiemalis-fr · 9 months
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Abraxos awoke with a throat tickle; his neck lunged out from the tight curl he had been sleeping in and hacked out a cough. He groaned, it was a fever. He knew he had felt ill the past week or so but had been ignoring it in favour of creating additional imbued sulphur for the clan's supplies. He shook out his sweaty mane and rolled onto his back with a huff. "Steady on!" A small voice squeaked. Abraxos looked down at his sternum. A Veilspun was clinging on to him, tiny claws dug into his scales. He was a tiny thing, all green and fluttery. His long mane braided back from his head. "Oh, err, apologies..." Abraxos managed hoarsely, too weary to question what he was doing in his chambers, "... who are you again?" "Soroush." The Veilspun gave a little bow, before padding up to his neck, "I am the clan nurse. I was informed you weren't the sociable type when I did my rounds of check ups when I first arrived. Nevertheless, Lassuarium sent me--" "Of course she did..." He muttered. "Don't interrupt. She sent me because she was alerted to the fact you were ailing." Soroush, pressed an upturned ear to his throat, presumably to check his pulse and temperature. "She never minds her own business." He grunted. "It is the lair's business when you insist on coughing and wheezing all night and waking up Marmaroth's little ones!" He snapped, "You have Alchemist's Pox. You must be kept warm and supplied hot peppermint tea." "I see." he said, raising an eyebrow, "That was a quick assessment--" "Are you doubting my qualifications? Because I'll have none of that." Soroush snapped, before drawing himself back up on his hind legs to glare at him eye to eye, "As I was saying, you're to rest and not leave this chamber. I'll see to it that it is well ventilated and remove the dust covering everything as it is no doubt exacerbating your condition." The idea of this tiny nuisance cleaning, and no doubt rearranging and changing the calibration, of his laboratory was a pox in itself. He had dwelled in the Wyrmwound as a hatchling, a pox couldn't hurt him. And, he thought, his chamber wasn't dirty, it was attuned to his exact liking! Dust couldn't do any harm to his tough lungs; it was just flecks and bits from his experiments. The truly toxic things were all kept in sealed jars and never opened for long. Besides... it was his room. His own chamber. No one bothered him usually, why care now? He was about to protest when he felt another wretched tickle in his throat, he coughed and growled as the pain seized in his chest. Soroush fluttered onto his antlers and peered in him in the eye and put his cheek to Abraxos' huge brow. "I'll send for some honey tincture..." His voice soothing, "You're a strong thing, but you need to sleep. From the look of this place and the sound of your phlegm, this has been a long time coming, hm? Please trust me, I shan't move anything out of place, you'll thank me in the long run." "...You promise?" "Promise. The dust in here is nasty stuff, I can smell it. Poor thing, you've been breathing it for so long you don't even notice it. I'll have it out in no time at all." "... Okay..." Abraxos sighed and laid his head down on his pillow, which Soroush took to plumping immediately. He felt the tiniest claw on his snout, petting him before he closed his eyes. He fell asleep to a small voice chanting a enchanted wind into the room; a warm but fresh breeze swirling around every nook and cranny. It tousled his mane and tail tuft, it cooled his throat and left him feeling adrift. As the wind caressed him, he soon fell deep asleep.
Soroush & Abraxos. Grumpy Boy meets Grumpy Nurse C:
adoptable by @squeeblestudio
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topstories1221 · 3 months
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Kids, Morning Prayer 
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In the break of dawn, X commences each day,
By pausing a moment to genuflect and pray.
Commencing with gratitude, subsequently extolling
For all your benevolent and affectionate manner.
If today's radiance transforms into precipitation,
If a somber cumulus brings some distress,
I shan't waver or retreat in trepidation
For you, my Deity, perpetually dwell nearby.
I shall journey where you beckon;
I shall assist my comrades in deprivation.
Whither you dispatch me, I shall venture;
With your assistance, I shall evolve and flourish.
Clasp my kinfolk within your grasp,
As we adhere to your injunctions.
And I shall maintain your proximity
Until I recline in repose this night.
So be it. In the name of Lord Amen
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thebirdandhersong · 1 year
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For every smile you get, give a sweeter one in return
In the generosity of your heart, tell others how much they mean to you
Give yourself freedom to taste the sorrow, but do not dwell on it
Have patience with yourself, do not expect the sorrow all to be gone at once
Turn not away from the law of the Lord, and do what he asks.
Delight in the Scriptures, for some of the Psalms are written in fearful bitterness of heart
Extinguish the worst of your thoughts if you can, but do not wallow in them if you cannot
Spend time doing or looking at something you particularly enjoy, even if only for a moment
Pray constantly, and if you cannot even do that, ask others to pray for you
Answer those who ask you questions with gentleness, and remember they go through trials you may not know about
If you do speak hastily and regret it, do not let the sun go down on your anger
Remember that God is in heaven and we are on earth, and that all's right in the world - even if it doesn't feel like it right now.
this is an acrostic by me :) I hope you enjoyed it :)
Thank you so much for this, my dear. This is lovely. I am going to write this down and stick it on my wall so that I can be reminded of Things That Matter More Than Boys (And Various&Sundry Other Problems). The horrors shall not prevail and I SHAN'T let them disturb my peace any longer!!
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Seven Sentence Sunday
while I didn’t get a chance to finish chapter three of until you meet someone who makes the fall feel like flying in time to post today, I’m so glad I got tagged in this because it gives me an excuse to post a snippet of what I do have written for it so far (thank you @tails89 for the tag! tagging @greyhavenisback since you also recently tagged me in a writing thing <3)
"I see you're already getting into character," Amity chuckles, careful not to shift any of the pins as she slides the fabric off of her and drapes it over the back of the couch. "Well, it's the truth," Luz laughs, plucking a rogue sewing pin from the shoulder of Amity's shirt. "Just…embellished with a little ornate prose." "And you two are going as…?" Hunter ventures, though he's 99% certain he already knows the answer. Amity arches a playful eyebrow, reaching for a ruler and brandishing it at Luz like a magic staff. "By the power of the great celestial antiquaries of the cotton candy skies, to the mud-dwelling monsters at the Bog Of Immediate Regret, I challenge thee to a witches' duel!" she exclaims, darting forward and gently smacking Luz across the backside. Luz lets out a startled shriek of laughter, grabbing one of Willow's knitting needles and clashing the blunt end against Amity's ruler like a sword. "You shall not shan't doeth any more harm, Hecate!" Luz shouts, metal clashing against plastic as she parries one of Amity's lunges. "Ugh. So flowery. So awful," Hunter groans, but there's an unmistakable fond smile on his face as he watches the two of them chase each other around the living room, lost in a make-believe battle somewhere between a sword fight and a magic duel, Willow snickering at his side.
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