#thought I’d try and branch out from dragons
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Felt like drawing some cats so have some warriors art
#thought I’d try and branch out from dragons#been so long since I’ve drawn them or read the books so these designs are probably inaccurate#hollyleaf#lionblaze#jayfeather#bluestar#tallstar#ivypool#ravenpaw#warrior cats#warrior cats art#cat art#cryptiddraws
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The Exciting Chronicles of The Shapeshifter & The Eccentric Gentleman
I / II (You're here) / III / IV / V
As a child, you would wait
And watch from far away
But you always knew that you'd be the one
That work while they all play
In youth, you'd lay
Awake at night and scheme
Of all the things that you would change
But it was just a dream
(Warriors, Imagine Dragons)
Words: 2.2k
Weeks would pass since that day. The shapeshifter, who would later be named Mercy, was trained rigorously to utilize their powers constructively; simultaneously, their abilities would grow stronger with some exercises from Numbers Four, Five, and Seven.
Mercy would quit trying to romance Number One. Reading his mind after assuming his form the second time made them realize he didn’t desire romance in general. As someone who became him, naturally Mercy would understand and respect his reasons.
After a month and a half of routine, Mercy became skilled and powerful enough to not only shapeshift into beings of unfathomable power, but also act as them too. To a normal person, they wouldn’t be able to tell the real from fake. Ordinarily, this would take at least a year, but thanks to their intervention it accelerated.
Now, Mercy found themselves sitting in a dark room in front of a screen; Number One finished setting up the projector, turned it on and manifested a pointer stick.
One pointed at an image of a red X. “So here’s the situation.”
Mercy nodded. One clicked and the image changed to a colored sketch for a hulking, green figure. It had a horned skull for a head and three eyes with yellow glowing pupils. Its ‘cloak’ was made out of grass, decorated with various flowers they couldn’t be bothered to try to name. The number next to it told them it was 9 feet tall. Compared to it, they were a measly 5 foot 5 inches.
One poked the screen at it. “I need to get an audience with them.”
Mercy vaguely felt their jaw drop. This…this creature-no, entity was surreal; it looked like it leapt out of someone’s amazing imagination and uprooted an entire garden for its cloak. No, cape…? In any case it looked fantastical. Mercy found it pleasant to look at.
(Art from this fic by the_moon_archives on ao3)
“This is Creator #AQ-120, but refer to them as Eldritch for simplicity. Eldy for short.” One retracted the pointer stick and chucked it behind him. “They’ve been at the ‘game’ for long enough that they know enough about the big picture that their knowledge is critical to my objective.”
Mercy raised their hand. “And what is the big picture?”
One grinned. “I’m glad you asked.”
The slide changed to show the words “SAGAU PHENOMENON” in bold black letters. General questions asking about it were scattered throughout. One pointed to the title. “Finding out what is causing this-this anomaly and putting a stop to it once and for all! I’m confident Eldy already knows what’s happening and I suspect something or other is preventing them from acting on it. So I thought I’d gently ask to take the reins from them.”
One summoned the pointer stick back in his hand. “The problem is Eldy is heavily guarded by cultists and priests. Especially this one lunatic: Rex Lapis. He’s not only a highly dedicated and religious god, but also the oldest and most experienced.”
The slide changed to show a tall, handsome man in white robes and a hood; despite that, two branch-like horns tipped with amber hues poked out of it. His face was immaculately sculpted with a nice jawbone and his captivating eyes with amber irises. He looked like a combination of a dragon and a human, the latter moreso.
Mercy stared into those hypnotic eyes. It was almost a crime how handsome he looked. Fortunately, One changed slides and tapped on an image of an elaborate temple. “This is where Eldy is living, or rather staying. The Temple of the Omnipotent Emperor is usually highly guarded 24/7. Only acolytes are allowed to enter, and the place is crawling with guards.”
Number One sighed. “It would be ideal if we could simply schedule a meeting face-to-face with them, but to them we’ll be perceived as complete strangers with no social standing or power. Furthermore, their guest log is practically full all the time. Scheduling anything with them is an impossibility; we’ll be put on the waitlist if we even try.
And then One smiled like a devious tactician who already thought of contingencies for their master plan. “Which is why we have to resort to more clever methods to set up a meeting. I present to you: Operation: Masked Fools. You’re the mask and I’m the fool, just to clarify.”
Mercy arched an eyebrow. “What an interesting thing to call it.”
“I know! Sometimes my naming sense is genius,” One laughed lightly. Mercy rolled their eyes with an easy smile. “It’ll be simple. We’ll be pulling a Spiderman: into the spiderverse nigh-end scene; in other words we’ll disguise ourselves as one of the acolytes, avoid unnecessary characters, acquire an audience in private, and leave before anyone notices.”
“You’re missing an awful lot of details. Like, what happens if we run into someone like Rex anyway? Or-or what if Eldy isn’t even there in the first place?” asked Mercy.
“Then we hide our presence, or act natural! And if Eldy isn’t there then we ask around, get our answer, and then teleport to them!” One said without missing a beat.
Mercy frowned. They still weren’t satisfied. “What happens if there’s like, an object that cancels my ability to shapeshift?”
“Then you hide while I find it and shut it down.”
“Well, what if Eldy calls us out while we’re disguised?”
“I…teleport us into a private room, put on my charm, and reassure them we mean no harm!”
“Right, like you have charm in the first place,” snarked Mercy.
One put a hand on his chest and spoke in mock hurt. “How dare you! I’m practically oozing with charm, thank you very much!”
“Ha! Liar! I’ve been in your mind. Would you like me to recount the first time you tried to flirt with a woman?” Mercy cheekily said.
One puffed out his cheeks. He didn’t dare say anything to dignify that statement. Mercy smirked with the energy of a cat that had found the bag of cat food all by itself.
“Let’s just move on,” One said, slightly disgruntled. The slide showed what looked like a throne room. “This is where Eldy is during the day. Normally, there’s a translator by their side to translate what Eldy says; they speak in a different language apparently, but it would be better if we were alone.”
“You’re saying…you know how to speak their language.”
“Yes. Next, we need to make sure that nobody interrupts us. To accomplish that, I’ll set up a mid-level perception filter around the room so that nobody will even think of entering. Think of it as a censor for the mind, one that reassures it that everything is ordinary,” explained One.
He tapped his forehead with the stick. “Finally, after I get the answers I need, we teleport out, get back home, and review what we learned. Okay! Briefing over.”
One clapped twice and the lights turned on; the projector turned off as well. One stretched his arms. “I suggest you get a nap and catch some sleep while you can, Mercy. We’ll be deploying early in a couple days.”
“Understood.”
///
That night, Mercy laid in bed awake. They stared up at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. Memories of today’s briefing stuck with them like a fly caught in a tape trap. It just refused to settle down. They tossed and turned yet nothing seemed to help. Not even counting sheep.
Ugh. Fine. With a defeated groan, they got up and out of their room but not before grabbing a white and black hoodie. Mercy quietly crept down the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door. They shut it silently, then examined the nightly scene before them.
Before them was a place that was still in its early stages; when Noraa (Number Four’s name, given after earning his trust) offered to shelter them, they accepted with a promise to assist him however they could. Thus, they’d move and attach bricks, turn boulders into rubble, and generally clear the way. A dozen buildings, including a moderately sized castle, served as the homes for those who lived here.
This was the Kingdom of Delusion and while Noraa could call it home, Mercy…had a ways to go until they felt settled.
With that in mind, they started trekking along the beaten path. Hopefully all of this excess energy will just go away as I walk…
It would have to be a short walk as they didn’t want to stay up too long. A glance upwards showed the moon nearing its peak in the sky. That and the stars shining above made for a rather beautiful sight. Their chest felt light like a balloon as they let their feet guide them towards a circular clearing in the middle.
This was the site for the future town square. Although only hollow shells for buildings were here, at the very least there was a simple fountain. Mercy sat on the smoothened stone. They looked down at the water below. It was as clear as a mirror.
The shapeshifter (Mercy took to calling themselves that after hearing it countless times from them all) examined their appearance. After several days of experimenting with it, they were satisfied with their current form: A round head with a flat chin, light gray medium hair with bangs short enough that a pair of heterochromatic eyes peeked out; the right was orange and the other was blue.
They had a build that was well-built yet had the right amount of fat (plump was what Number Six described it). Thanks to their head shape they looked androgynous. Overall it felt pleasing to look at.
Mercy shivered. They rubbed their hands to try to warm themselves-
-only to have a coat get wrapped around their shoulders.
Startled, they swiftly turned around to discover a tall young man with short, jade green hair, slightly tanned skin, and light green eyes in his nightwear. He wore a neutral expression as he opened his mouth. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Mercy withdrew into the coat. “...No.”
“Mm,” was all he said. He opened his right hand and a metallic staff manifested. Noraa casually pointed the tip to his left palm and a dotted white beam fired. A cup of milk appeared in his grasp. “Warm milk?”
Mercy stared at it briefly what the f- before moving to take it. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” replied Noraa. He made himself another one and sat down right next to them.
The duo silently drank their cups of warm milk. They savored its warmth and taste as much as they could. Once finished, Noraa took both empty cups and made them disappear via staff. Mercy found themself staring at it.
It looked ordinary enough with a long jade green handle, but near the tip was where it started looking interesting. Inserted into a slot was an orange cube with a diamond gray panel that had five glowing square lights; the cube was big enough like a decently sized watermelon. There was a small barrel at the top where the beam came out of “Where’d you get that?”
The edges of Noraa’s lips pulled up. “Mm. Built it myself. I was inspired after I saw someone else’s.”
“I see. So you basically wanted a cool magic staff.”
Noraa nodded. “Don’t we all, at some point, want to pick up a stick and pretend to cast spells with it?”
“I guess. It sounds fun.”
“It is…” Noraa agreed. They both looked up at the starry sky. Neither said a word for what felt like hours. Mercy felt as calm and clear as a tranquil pond of water completely untouched, unsoiled. It was a nice moment, one they'd treasure.
They inhaled, savoring the pureness of the air when Noraa said something that caught her off guard.
“Mercy,” he licked his dry lips. “If you don’t mind me asking, what will you do after this?”
Blank. That was their mind. Nothing came up immediately so they said that. Mercy looked at Noraa who was still looking up. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s just…I thought I’d bother asking since we know this is a one-time thing. This operation will benefit us, but I realize that it doesn’t benefit you at all. I mean, at least in the long run,” he explained. He looked at them with a face that screamed ‘worry’. It was something he did often; it was how he showed he cared. Mercy teased him by calling him dad. That made him stop doing it, at least for a while.
But back to the topic at hand. “I’m content with helping One at the moment. Once I fulfilled my end of the deal, I figured I’d just go out there and find myself. Do it the tried and true way.”
Noraa tilted his head as he processed that. “Yeah…okay. Valid.”
He covered a yawn. “Well, I’m gonna tell ya this right now: If you ever feel yourself in need of a safe space whenever your journey starts to wear ya down, my door’s always open.”
Mercy blinked. “That’s…actually very sweet of you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Noraa clicked his tongue. He stood up and stretched. “Mm, on that pleasant note, I think I’m gonna hit the hay. The milk’s kicking in. Want a lift?”
“Sure.” Mercy hopped off their seat. Noraa put a hand on their shoulder. Thanks to his staff, they disappeared and reappeared inside his house. As Mercy climbed the stairs they called out one final time. “Good night, grass head.”
“Good night to you too, dingus.”
“Snake eyes.”
“Vegetable.”
“That one didn’t make sense.”
“Good night.” Noraa marched off to bed.
Mercy chuckled quietly before doing the same.
///////////
A/N: @idkfitememate
This is mostly a set-up chapter plus some filler. A part of me thought it was a good idea to give a glimpse into Mercy’s bonds with two of the people who helped them adjust to life outside the mirror; after a month and a half of hands-on training it’s only logical for one to forge such a tight-knit bond.
I hope you enjoyed that slice-of-life bit because next is the exciting part. And I have enough action sequences stockpiled to draw upon. ;)
I've been wanting to write more on SAGAU somehow. This was my plan. The SAGAU Phenomenon is an ongoing anomaly where "countless human souls are prevented from passing peacefully; they are instead reincarnated or transported into Teyvat, totally unprepared for any trials. Depending on what kind of universe they're in, they will either thrive or perish." This is an original thing I came up with.
I wanted to make Mercy have an androgynous appearance since they can literally become anyone, any gender, etc. It makes sense from a design standpoint. As the first character I’ve ever written to hold that status, it felt easier since I had sources to draw upon (looking at you Pidge Voltron & Double Trouble She-ra). For their name, I spun a wheel with four choices: Halcyon, Mercy, Mica, and Blake. No guesses as to which one won.
Reblogs, questions, comments, and critiques are welcome (don’t be shy y’all!)
#my ocs#.mine#no beta we die like men#writers on tumblr#creative writing#writer stuff#writer#sagau#genshin sagau#sagau fanfic#self aware genshin au
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Favourite Ship Tag Game
Since tag games are so popular around here, I thought I’d give it a go and make my own. :D
Choose 4 romantic ships (fictional couples and/or fictional characters you *wish* were couples) you love from any fictional source whether it be books, movies, TV shows, mobile/video games, etc. Please also reference the fictional source they come from. The list doesn’t have to be in any particular order.
Give your reasons why you love this couple and/or why you think they’d *make* a great couple. If you can, please include a picture or GIF of the couple.
Tag 5 of your followers to share this game with. You may choose to tag more or less if you wish, but I do recommend choosing 5. No pressure, just please share this game with others for the sake of spreading the word.
Please be respectful of others and there opinions. No abuse please. :( Also, have fun. :D
*Warning*: Story spoilers ahead.
1. Rapunzel and Eugene Fitzherbert/”Flynn Rider” from the Tangled franchise.
I love these two because they are beautiful example of a healthy relationship. They love and support each other selflessly in their goals and dreams and never try to pressure the other into doing what they aren’t ready for. They are always there to support each other and build the other up to become the best versions of themselves.
Rapunzel helped Eugene find the selfless, loving man underneath the selfish, vain thief, while Eugene gave Rapunzel the courage to live her dream and break herself free from the manipulative Mother Gothel’s control and find the truth about her real parents and her being the lost princess. They’re each others New Dream and I love that about them. :D
Mandy Moore and Zachary Levi did amazing in these roles.
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2. Branch and Poppy from the “Trolls” franchise
I love these two because they are adorable examples of opposites-attract. Poppy is the bubbly, endlessly optimistic princess turned queen of the Pop Trolls, while Branch is the grumpy but realistic former hermit with a heart of gold.
Poppy helps Branch to see the bright side of things and helps him to find his true colours, while Branch keeps Poppy grounded and realistic when she takes her plans too far and is always there to help her out when she needs him.
I hope these two marry some day and Branch becomes Poppy’s king consort. They make a great team - romantically, plantonically and just generally as trolls.
I also love Justin Timberlake and Anna Kendrick. Their singing voices are amazing. :D
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3. Callum and Rayla from “The Dragon Prince”
A great example of the enemies to friends to lovers trope (though they’re currently on the outs romantically). These two have a beautiful bond that grows naturally over the course of 3 seasons. Despite being estranged due to 2 years apart in Season 4, the two are slowly and naturally repairing their broken bond and I hope in time these two will not only repair their friendship but eventually fall in love all over again and get back together as a stronger and much more mature couple.
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4. Simon and Jeanette from the “Alvin and the Chipmunks” franchise
The adorkably nerdy pair and *Smart Ones* of their respective musical trios, The Chipmunks and The Chipettes. Despite being similar in their intelligence levels, the two are still different enough from each other that aren’t clones of the other. Jeanette is more shy and compassionate in temprament to Simon’s more snarky, deadpanned wit. He’s always there to catch her when she falls (most of the time literally, lol) and she’s always there to support him and cheer him up when his inventions are ruined (mostly by his irresponsible brother, Alvin).
Though they are still a bit young and shy to start a serious relationship with each other, it’s obvious this adorable pair were made for each other. They do and will make an adorable pair - romantically, platonically and acemedically.
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I tag @16magnolias , @briarosabelle , @creativefictionlover , @psalm40speakstome and @travelinglighttoday . Though anyone can feel free to play if they wise to. Have fun! :D
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The Red Dragon’s Hoard
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category:Multi
Fandoms: Trigun Stampede (Anime 2023), Trigun (Anime & Manga 1995-2008)
Relationship: Meryl Stryfe/Vash the Stampede/Nicholas D. Wolfwood
Characters: Meryl Stryfe, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Vash the Stampede (Trigun), Milly Thompson
Additional Tags: fairy tale AU, I get to put a dragon in my current hyper fixation this is the literal best, Mashwood Week 2023, Prompt: Fairy Tale
Language: English
Words: 1,839
Summary: The story goes like this: there is a princess, a dragon, and a knight. Everyone knows this story.
Note: Another fic for @mashwoodweek 2023, this time based on the day 4 prompt Fairy Tale AU.
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48448891
The story goes like this: there is a princess, a dragon, and a knight.
Everyone knows this story.
—
Princess Meryl let out a frustrated yell as yet another bramble tore at her clothes.
She’d changed into a set of light leather armor she used during weapons training, the most practical clothes she owned. At least she thought they were, but her armor was still decorated with fine fabric trimming, until every little thorn and branch began to tear them all out. Ruined clothing or not, she couldn’t go back, couldn’t give up, because a dragon was terrorizing her kingdom, and no one had been able to stop it.
Everyone knew the stories, even Meryl, sequestered in the royal castle. The sight of it on the horizon was so terrible it sent both humans and animals fleeing before it. When its wings beat it brought down howling winds and vicious rains. Its flaming breath, bright as two suns, scorched everything beneath it.
It had taken months for her to steal enough intelligence and rumors from around the castle, to pinpoint a possible location for the dragon’s lair. No one else had been able to stop the dragon, and she wasn’t going to lay back and do nothing, not ever again.
Meryl grumbled, and looked up at the mountain before her, her guide on her journey. Her thoughts wandered back to her handmaid, who had promised to tell everyone she was sick with something horrifically contagious and deeply embarrassing. The princess needed to be quarantined, and would only allow Milly to visit her, to preserve her pride. Brave Milly Thompson, Meryl hoped she was okay.
An hour and many more torn frills later, she arrived at the mountain’s base, and the mouth of a large cave. Its sole inhabitant was waiting for her there
The dragon towered above her, red scales glittered like rubies in the afternoon sun, and it looked down at her with slitted blue eyes. Bright gold spikes lined its head and down the back of its neck. It was missing its left front leg, the stump scarred. Its hide was pockmarked with broken scales and scar tissue, this was a creature that had survived many deadly battles.
The dragon tilted its head to one side and blinked at her slowly.
The gesture reminded her so much of a cat she could only stare, stunned at the allegedly vicious creature. This couldn’t be the dragon that had been terrorizing the kingdom!
“Hi there?” said the dragon, like a politely confused guest at a party.
“Um…” Meryl boggled. Dragons could talk?
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to slay me,” the dragon said, shuffling its feet. “Swords and spears hurt, you know!”
“Oh!” Meryl snapped back to reality, reminding herself that she was at her destination, the end of her quest. “No, I’m not here to slay you!” She tried to puff herself up, so she looked less like the petite princess and more like someone deserving of respect. “My name is Meryl Stryfe,” she lied with confidence. “And I want to talk to you!”
—
There is a princess, a dragon, and a knight.
They each have a role to play.
—
Nicholas was a knight.
He wasn’t given a choice.
“Sir Wolfwood of Hopeland,” said King Bernardelli from his throne, “My daughter has disappeared, possibly taken by some foul man or beast!”
A long time ago, he’d been plucked from the orphanage because a knight needed a squire, but couldn’t find a willing apprentice. That was enough to make him a knight now, because that’s all it took. You had to be chosen by the right person.
Kneeling before the king, Nicholas responded, “I will find her and bring her home, Your Majesty.”
It didn’t matter if he’d been trained by the knight with the worst reputation, once Wolfwood ended his training and passed all the royal trials, he became a knight of the realm. He became a part of the upper crust, was invited to fancy parties and grand tournaments. Wolfwood was the kingdom’s shield, the king’s sword, forged in flames to be a weapon of war.
“Go now, loyal knight,” the king commanded. “Do whatever it takes to bring Princess Meryl Bernardelli home!”
Nicholas he rose to his feet, and bowed. “By your will.”
He had a job. It kept him fed, and protected the orphanage he was stolen from. He had nothing else. Believed he needed nothing else.
—
There is a princess, a dragon, and a knight.
Everyone knows how this story ends.
—
Their lovely conversation was ruined when a knight appeared at Vash’s den.
“Hey, you!” said the knight, lifting a massive claymore in two hands. “By the authority of King Bernardelli, I have been commanded to…” he trailed off. Though his face was obscured by a black metal helmet, Vash could still see the knight lean forward to examine the spread between him and Meryl. “Are those… pastries?”
“Yeah!” Vash said, with a delighted wag of his spiked tail. “Meryl found a great bakery in a nearby village! Want one?”
The knight only gaped, the point of his sword landing in the soft dirt. Vash took the opportunity to use his long tongue to take another donut from his plate. Meryl had been the one to introduce him to this particular human invention, sweet on his tongue. Humans were so clever!
“I don’t care what the king says,” Meryl said still sitting comfortably on Vash’s collection of mismatched fabrics. She lifted her chin as she addressed the knight, used to others obeying her authority. “You can leave, you will not lay a hand on this dragon.”
“I’m here to rescue Princess Bernardelli from whatever wicked creature captured her!” the knight said, in a tone that was less ‘confident rescuer’ and more ‘walked into the wrong room and has no idea what’s happening’.
“Wait, princess…?” Vash turned to Meryl, who was dressed in nicely made if plain looking leather armor. Sure it had some frills that were torn as she’d gone through the woods, but she looked no different from the average adventurer. “You’re the princess?” Vash said with a startled flutter of his wings.
Princess Meryl groaned, and put her head in her hands. “People act weird if they know I’m a princess, and I wanted to know who you really were!”
“By lying to me?” Vash said, giving her what he hoped she understood to be a playful grin. Humans sometimes had trouble reading his face. Meryl picked up a scone, and tossed it at him. “Hey!” Vash protested as it bounced off his scales. “Don’t waste good treats like that!”
“Don’t ignore me!”
Both turned their attention back to the knight, still standing at the mouth of Vash’s den. Even clad in full armor, his presence was more flustered than menacing. Vash gave a smoky laugh.
Delicately, using the tips of his claws, Vash picked up a plate with chocolate chip cookies, and held it out to the knight. “Would you like one?”
—
There is a princess, a dragon, and a knight.
They don’t care about the rest.
—
“Oh my!” Milly stared in amazement and wonder. “I can’t believe my eyes! I knew you were serious ma’am, but this?”
She had been so worried for her friend, with no word from her months after helping the princess escape the castle. Milly knew her princess was strong and clever, and trusted in her plan to investigate the dragon plaguing the kingdom.
Secretly, Milly had been afraid she’d never see her best friend again. Then, weeks later, a very strange letter arrived.
She followed the directions carefully, until she wound up somewhere she’d never expected to see and live to tell the tale! She’d gone through the forest to the foot a a mountain, and a natural cave dug into its side. It was a dragon’s den, with Meryl waiting for her inside. Nearby, the dragon himself sat like a cat, legs tucked in neatly, with a man in knight’s armor, minus the helmet, tucked in against his side. The knight frowned down at his whittling, it looked like he was carving a bird.
“This is Vash,” Meryl said, indicating the dragon, who gave Milly a wave with a large paw. She waved back, enchanted. “And this is Wolfwood,” Meryl indicated the knight, who didn’t acknowledge her presence.
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Vash, and Mr. Wolfwood!” Milly chirped.
“Sir Wolfwood!” he corrected. “I’m still a knight!”
The dragon responded to this assertion with a playful whack with his wing. Wolfwood answered Vash’s vicious attack by sitting his woodworking down to grab the limb and give it a tug. Vash whined, his struggles playful, careful not to genuinely hurt the human who was so much smaller than him. It was the last way Milly had ever expected to see a dragon and a knight fighting.
She took in the sights of the den around her: It was decorated with human knick-knacks, from incomplete paintings to scrap fabrics to broken farm tools, the detritus of humanity collected in curiosity and reverence. What she assumed was new were two spaces near the back that looked as if they’d been recently carved out from the stone. One was sparsely filled, containing only a leather pack and a helmet laying on a pile of blankets, the other filled with metal trinkets and books, her own makeshift bed twice as large as the knight’s was.
“I didn’t think a dragon’s home could be so nice!” Milly said in earnest admiration.
“…Thank you?” said Vash, with a cute draconic frown.
Meryl put a hand on her friend’s arm. “You understand why I can’t go back.”
“I do,” Milly said, taking her friend’s hand. “What should I tell everyone?”
Meryl bit her lip, and Milly ached for her. If Milly told the kingdom their princess was staying with a dragon, the king would raze the whole forest to rescue her from her ‘ensorcellment’. If Milly told the kingdom their princess was dead, the king would raze the whole forest in his search for revenge on the dragon. If she told the kingdom nothing about their princess, the king might raze the whole forest anyway in his desperation to find his daughter.
There were a lot of ways the king might raze the forest searching for Meryl. She didn’t think anyone actually wanted that.
“We’re still figuring things out,” Meryl admitted, squeezing Milly’s hand. “Please, trust me. We need time. There’s still another dragon out there, the one that’s really attacking people.”
Milly looked back at Vash and Wolfwood, who’d made some kind of truce. Wolfwood returned to his whittling, though now he was sitting directly on Vash’s long snout. “That sounds scary, but… I’m happy for you too. He’s very handsome.” Milly shrugged, and added with a grin. “And I guess the knight is okay looking too.”
“Shut up!” Wolfwood snapped without any real heat. Beneath him, Vash giggled.
Dragons could giggle! Milly thought she couldn’t smile any wider.
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Efri is lying on her back in the grass outside the cave when it happens.
“ – but the ground was all muddy ‘cause it had been raining,” she’s saying, nattering on while her sabre cat friend sits contentedly nearby, “so instead of landing like I wanted I twisted my ankle and got mud all up my dress. It was in my hair even. It was such a mess, I had to go home early and wash everything so my parents wouldn’t see, and Sissel was so worried I was hurt. ‘Course I was fine, but she worries. It mucked up the whole trick, and Sissel wouldn’t let me try to show her again because she thought I’d just get hurt, which meant I never even got to show her, which sucks. I would’ve got it perfect if it weren’t for the mud.”
The sabre cat looks at her, eyes thinning.
“I could show you if you want,” Efri offers, and their ears prick up. “I’d just need to find a good tree with branches I could –”
The sabre cat sits straight upright, their head twisted unnaturally, dead focused on something in the distance. In the direction of Rorikstead, the little smudge of houses at the base of the hill.
“What is it?” Efri asks, sitting up too.
Her friend, unsurprisingly, does not answer. Efri peers hard at their face. Their pupils have narrowed to slits, ears upright, tail curling in spirals across the grass.
The goats are all looking up too.
“What’s wrong?” Efri repeats, and the sabre cat takes off without so much as a by-your-leave. Efri stares. They’re sprinting in circles around the scattered herd of goats, crowding them together and directing them into the mouth of the nearby cave. The goats have learned by this time not to fear them, and they don’t seem scared exactly – not of Efri’s friend – but they seem very willing to trot off into the cave.
Efri watches the sabre cat round up the goats like a herding hound until their lightning-quick running makes her dizzy, and then she stares hard at Rorikstead in the distance, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. She can’t see anything.
But there’s a moment, when the sabre cat and the goats have all thundered into the cave, leaving the plains bare and quiet, where she can almost hear something.
Like a wolf howling from the moons instead of at them. A sound rattling around the sky like dice cast in a bowl.
The sabre cat reappears. “What’s wrong?” Efri repeats, more demanding than the last, and the sabre cat makes that low desparate cow-like noise and starts to approach her.
But Efri’s still looking at Rorikstead.
It’s too far away to see anything clearly – it’s just a smudge at the base of a hill – but something’s lighting up like kindling. There shouldn’t be light there.
The clouds rattle again, and the sparks fly, and oh –
And oh no.
Efri says a bad word, and then she’s scrambling to her feet, and then she’s running.
The sabre cat is half-roaring behind her, but Efri can barely hear it over the blood thrumming in her ears. Helgen, Whiterun, Kynesgrove. A million other places she can’t even remember the names of – it’s not exciting news anymore, not new, just another thing to worry about late at night, like the troll sightings to the south, and the war, and Sissel. Efri remembers Erik’s story about the dragon buried in the hill. Remembers Sissel’s nightmares, the earth cracking open, town showered in flame. Hadn’t she thought, so many months ago when they got the news about Helgen, that the danger couldn’t stay far-off for long?
Rorikstead can’t be another Helgen, Whiterun watchtower, Kynesgrove, wherever else. Efri doesn’t even like it there but it can’t, it’s hers. She can’t even tell if she can hear the dragon or not, because she feels like she can but it might just be her heart thundering in her ears. She’s juddering up and down as she runs too much to make out the sparks. She left her stick behind in the grass.
The sabre cat is howling now, closer than they should be. Are they chasing her? Efri ignores them. They’re a lot faster than her – of course they are, ten times her size and running on four legs – but it doesn’t matter, she needs to get there, to do something, if she’s only fast enough –
Tearing as best she can across the painfully flat plains, dry grass brushing her calves, Efri trips.
There’s nothing to trip over except her own legs, but she manages it, because of course at this most important time something would find a way of going wrong. Her foot feels twisted. Before she can start scrambling to her feet again the sabre cat lands with feet on either side of her body, and then there’s damp breath on her back – and then she’s in the air.
The sabre cat lifts her up by the back of her smock, the fabric of her clothes caught in their teeth, and they start galloping back the way they came. They move so fast, and at any other time Efri would be having a lot of fun.
Efri is not having a lot of fun.
“Put me down!” she screams. “Put me down, put me down, I have to go back! I have to help!” Every time they leap she feels the breath knocked out of her lungs. They’re not putting her down. Efri twists around as best she can, the seams of her sleeves cutting painfully into her armpits, and swings her arms as hard as she can. She thinks her fist makes contact with her friend’s jaw, but if it does they don’t acknowledge it.
She writhes, roaring, the clothes holding her up pulling very uncomfortably on her limbs, managing to kick one shoe off into the dirt but not managing to accomplish much else.
The sabre cat barrels into the cave and drops Efri unceremoniously in the dirt. Efri’s still yelling. All the goats are staring. She begins crawling to her feet, the tendons in her ankle still aching from her fall, but before she can do more than pull a knee up the sabre cat thumps to the floor with a bone-shaking thud and lays their massive paws over Efri’s body, chin resting on her chest. They’re too heavy for Efri to move at all under their weight, and for a brief, hateful moment she wishes she’d never befriended the nice sabre cat from the plains, never met them at all, wishes they’d bled out in this stupid sorry cave.
She’s sorry as soon as she thinks it, but it’s not the most important thing.
“Let go!” she’s shouting, whacking at their paws as they stare sorrowfully up at her face. “Let me go, let me go, let me go –”
But they don’t, and all puffed out from running and with the weight of them on her chest it’s hard for Efri to catch her breath, and it only takes a few minutes for her to scream herself hoarse, throat feeling like someone’s taken a fleshing knife to it. Everything in her body feels raw. She’s crying now. Efri never cries, but she’s crying now.
“Please,” she’s sobbing, voice weak and rough. “Please let me up, please…”
But the sabre cat doesn’t.
They hold her down for who knows how long, blowing steady breaths into her face, damp eyes watching her. Efri’s legs go numb and tingly, after a while. The tear tracks dry on her face. They feel itchy.
The goats stay huddled in the corner in anxious silence. None of them even amble over to chew on Efri’s hair.
She loses some of the time, she thinks. She’s not sure where it goes, because it’s not like she can do much – just lie pressed into the cave dirt, weeping in that high-pitched way you do when you’re trying to be quiet about it, throat too scratchy to talk anymore. She doesn’t even remember what she forgot, but she must have forgot some of it, because when she was dragged into the cave it was high noon and now the sun is beginning to set. She can just about see the golden light cast on the walls near the entrance. Some of the time she spent crying on the ground is fuzzy. She can’t say she mourns the loss of it.
The sabre cat slowly, gently steps back. Efri stays in the dirt.
Efri’s not sure what time by the clock it is that the sun sets this time of year, but it’s been hours at least. What if there’s nothing to go back to?
She needs to get up, she knows, but something in her won’t let her. Maybe it’s better not knowing. If she stays on the ground long enough, moss will grow over her and she’ll stop caring and she’ll never have to know what happened.
There’s a low rumbling sound in the sabre cat’s throat. They nudge her foot with their nose.
“What,” Efri whispers, voice dry, “you make me stay when I don’t want to and now you want to make me leave? Make up your mind.”
It hurts to talk.
The sabre cat nudges her foot with their nose again.
Efri says, “Leave me alone.”
The sabre cat makes a different noise – sounds a bit like a growl – and goes to stand over her, staring her down.
“Go away,” Efri tells them, and pulls the front of her smock up over her face.
There’s a rustling sound. When Efri lets the smock fall back down past her chin, she sees that they’ve laid down next to her, legs tucked up under their body, looking at her.
Efri looks back for a while.
The sunset light shifts on the walls.
“Okay,” Efri mumbles, rough-voiced. “Okay.”
She stands, pins and needles all up her thighs, and staggers out of the cave. Her sabre cat friend follows, faithful as a shadow.
“I need to find my stick,” she manages when they’re outside, looking at the grass, the northern mountains, the sky, anything except Rorikstead. One of the moons is already risen, a vague pale imprint in the bluey-grey sky. Efri stamps her bare tingly foot on the dust. “And my shoe.”
The sabre cat shows her to her stick but doesn’t seem to know where her shoe is, either.
Whatever. It seems so trivial now.
Efri stands with her one leather shoe and her stick, her back to the town, looking her friend in the face. Her friend looks patiently back.
Efri isn’t crying anymore – honest, she’s actually not – but not for lack of wanting to. She thinks she maybe just ran out of tears.
“I’m scared,” she says. “I’m scared it’ll be something I don’t want to find.”
Her friend presses a warm nose to her forehead. They stand like that for some time.
The sabre cat pulls back, blowing out a gust of air like a tired sigh. They bend down, so Efri is standing by their neck, their head almost on the ground. Efri doesn’t move. They nudge into her so she kind of flops, and then they stand up again, and Efri is flopped like a ragdoll over their neck.
“Oh,” Efri says, and readjusts. She’s not sure where to put her hands – she’s already sitting on their long lovely hair where it falls past the top seam of their shirt, she doesn’t want to start pulling at it too – so in the end she just balances her stick over her knees and braces her hands on either side of their neck. The sabre cat has always knocked her down when she suggested she could ride them. She says, “Thank you.”
Her friend chuffs and turns so they’re both facing back to Rorikstead.
There’s no thundering sounds in the skies anymore. No roaring. There’s nothing too different about the look of the place from this distance.
It’s still lit up in sparks and flares. That’s definitely not right.
Efri takes a deep breath. It tears ragged on the coarse insides of her throat.
“Thank you,” she says again, and then, “Let’s go,” and she focuses on the warm solid fur and muscle under her hands as the sabre cat starts to run.
#I have the other scenes for this event all written already so I PROMISE I won't leave you here for long#(unless I feel like it. in which case I might. I am a fickle mistress)#anyway#hope you liked it!#my writing#fay writes#oc tag#efri#kazari#microfic#skyrim#the elder scrolls#tes#rorikstead
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Fandom New Years Resolutions for 2023
I don’t want to do any of the Year In Review things because...well, it was a really intense, difficult year and I didn’t get as much done as I would have liked. However! I thought it might be fun to lay out my plans for 2023, keep them reasonable (keep them safe) and try to hype myself up to finish.
Without further ado, my list that is likely to shift and change:
DRAGON AGE
Fics
Finish Letters to the Dead
Continue You’re Bad but You’re Mine (maybe even finish!? Who knows!)
Finish and post Something Unholy, a Morgon one-shot that was supposed to be for Satinalia but will now be for a random Andrastian holiday because I vastly overestimated the length of December
Solavellan stuff (DA4 has me in a deathgrip)
Some one-shots: Blackwall + Josephine, Comedy of Errors stuff,
Art
Banners/cover pages for all my fics
Catch up on all commissions/gifts
Finally color my lovely Niva linearts from @dreadfutures
Morgon Tarot card (three guesses which one lol)
Morgon, Niva and Alethea portraits for pfps
ACOTAR
Fics
Finish All of Me Belongs to You (ASAP/early Jan)
Finish A Lily on Thy Brow
Nyx craziness
Past Loves, Lives collection (Young Bats, Amren being Made, Mor’s first time falling for a woman, I’m working on more ideas and for sure would take prompts, hit up my asks!)
A one-shot per month. Probably mostly Elriel but I’m planning to branch out, too
Art
Finish Elriel AU piece for @azrielslight (ASAP/early Jan)
Finish Elriel in the garden piece
Banners/cover pages for all my fics
Feyre slaying the worm
Feyre and her monsters
Buzzcuts in the Illyrian camp/battlefield hairstyle incidents
Some smutty Elriel stuff
18th/19th-century style Portraits of the sisters
RINGS OF POWER/LOTR
Art (Only art because I am not enough of a Tolkein scholar to dare to write stuff)
ALL THE WOMEN. Binders full of em!
also Aragorn and Halbrand. Maybe even together ;)
Lastly, I just want to read more fic. My TBR is so long – if you’re a longfic writer and I started reading and then disappeared into the hills, please know I didn’t lose interest!! I just had A Year, is all. I am excited to return to reading regularly and letting you all know how much I adore you and how unspeakably talented I think you are.
And just for funsies, with NO pressure to join in, I’d love to hear anyone’s fandom resolutions! I’m not going to tag specific folks because I don’t want to be pushy OR leave anyone out so suffice to say, if you can see this I am tagging you in spirit.
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It’s done. It worked. Kyranastrasz’s spirit was released, everyone walked away alive, and I think I’ve finally come down enough from my giddy, senseless relief and adrenaline to string a coherent thought together. In order, lest I lose something in the recounting.
I gave the reports of lingering Scourge forces far, far too little credit. I expected the same numbers we’ve faced from our skirmishes with the Blighted, maybe double at most, but easily compensated for by our having a larger team than before. I thought that time and freezing conditions would have taken the bulk of them out of action long before we got there.
Nope.
We got a flood. A sea of wailing bones and blue lichfire, and MANY towering abominations. One particular horror (the only one that I noticed, and gods help us if I’d been oblivious to more) loomed above it all, a horrid amalgamation of skulls and wing bones wielding an axe larger than my old apartment. If not for Roy, Neil and Salix pouring everything they had into our shield, I’m certain that one would have waded in and cut us down from the start. As it was, I had only a moment to question what the fuck was I thinking signing up for this before the crack of Remington’s rifle sounded—stragglers started breaching the barrier—then Taveth was ripped away from us on a meat hook and I didn’t have any more room for panic because everyone exploded into movement and I had to keep up. A second abomination and a swarm to keep us from Tav (I think Syl made it over there anyways?), another battering for me (no broken bones this time, thankfully), a storm of bones and bile and fire and frost and blades—only for the Scourgelord to CHEAT and funnel them full of darkness again right after we’d torn them down the first time. No choice but to keep going and bring them down again; Salix did a neat thing, bringing down embers from the barrier to revitalize us and keep us fighting, until finally they were broken beyond raising, the Scourgelord’s spell cut off and him reduced to ash by Syl (nice!)
A few seconds to catch our breath, then, while the Scourge outside paused on seeing the aftermath. I thought that we had it in hand now, that the worst was done (stupidly forgetting the giant flying fucker still hanging around outside the bubble.)
Then the dragons started to falter.
The Scourge rose in a collective howl, surging forward to hurl themselves emboldened against the barrier. We hauled back uphill to reform the line.
Vivistrasza fell first. The others followed.
Salix broke rank, rushing to his mother and leaving Roy and Neil to try and maintain the barrier.
I didn’t see what he did or when it happened, but I knew enough from Vivistrasza’s anguished roar and the flux of magic going still behind me. When I turned, for a second, it wasn’t them I saw. I saw echoes of a little fool, huddled over a dead friend in the rain, smelled smoke and citrus and copper.
I almost lost myself then—first in my grief for them, then in fury. I don’t understand it now, but I think, in retrospect, that at that moment I could have called power enough to rend the sky itself and bring it crashing down on the Scourge. I don’t think I would have the control to keep it away from my people, had I tried.
Somehow, it was Lucidre that kept me from trying. Underneath the shrieking undead, the calls and commands flying around our group as Roy fell and the barrier shattered, and the rush of blood in my ears muffling everything out—out of all of that, somehow one small whelp’s soft gasp of awe brushed past all the noise to catch my attention. A new pulse of magic kept it.
A joyful roar, echoing off the frozen cliffs. The spirit of Kyranastrasz rose amidst the swell of life radiating from his flower, and soared, finally free to join his brethren in the branches of G’hanir. The Scourge fell as one, unmade and sent to permanent rest by the waves of life magic. The reverent hush in the wake of Kyranastrasz’s departure broke, at last, when we heard Salix’s voice.
“Mother…?”
I kind of did lose my shit then. Not in the storm calling, death and destruction way I’d been so close to a minute ago, but in a weird, giddy mess of giggling and crying that—in all honesty—I’m still not completely certain has worn off. I think it had finally set in then that we did it, that our task was accomplished and we’d survived and Salix and Roy were going to be alright and (most striking of all, for me) how…happy I was, to be here alive, with all of these people, having helped to make something incredible happen. I think some people may have given me odd looks as I kept bursting back into little giggle fits all the way back to the ship, but honestly, I just felt too delighted about it all to really care. Motherfucker, we just helped to free a DRAGON from an eternity of corruption and unrest! I’m perfectly entitled to be a little loopy while processing that if I want to. Maybe I’ll even gloat a little later! Try and stop me!
Or don’t. I’m actually starting to feel quite tired and shaky after using so much magic today. Just let me gloat unchallenged, please.
I don’t think I shall ever tire of hearing someone say they’re proud of me. I know Rem said it to all of us collectively, but I am a part of that collective so I will count it all the same and let myself marinate in feeling special and accomplished and all that warm fuzzy crap.
I can’t believe it’s been, what, only a few weeks since this all began? A couple months, maybe? With how much has happened, it feels more like an entire year at least. I don’t think I’ll be going home the same person I was when I left, but I think, this time, it’s for the better. I feel…not braver or more powerful, necessarily, but. Lighter? Like an old, wounded, gnarled part of me has healed over with new growth. Like I can rest a little easier now. Whatever it is, I like it and I want more of it. I’d like to keep doing this—well, not THIS specifically, I’ve smelt enough abomination puke in one day to turn me off of fish for a month. I want to keep traveling, meeting and helping people. Repair some of the damage that’s left, if I can. Maybe once we get back, I can ask Fiona for some time off, pack my bottomless satchel and take off to wander the world for a bit.
But not yet. I still owe Myth’s headstone a recap on all the wild shit that’s gone down, and then I really want to stop at home and make sure Eoselle knows how much I appreciate her. Maybe I can bring groceries and treat her to a nice dinner.
——
(( @fence-macabre ))
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“Hello there, I’m Kaya! I saw the list of tragedies that happened to the Branch A boxers, and sorry to be a bother- But I’d really really like to know about the blight of the other branch as well (seeing as I’m not quite familiar with most of them, heh-) Thank you!” - Kaya 🌙
"Pleasure to make your Acquaintance, Ms Kaya! Now, this is a bit of a sensitive topic for a few of our boys so word of this must stay between me and you, Okay?
Now, here we go, hope you're ready..."
TW: SENSITIVE TOPICS
Birdie Blue: His family has an unfortunate gene that means they contract sickness a lot easier and are generally unhealthy. Birdie was lucky enough to not get these genes or fall into those habits, but he soon became the only able bodied person in his family and soon had to be at the beck and call of everyone, as early as the age of 7. He ran away shortly after and moved to Louisianna.
Gabby Jay: A Happy life with a beautiful wife and family. However, one day he became very ill and had to be taken to the hospital where he was diagnosed with Luchemia. He was given treatment for it and soon recovered thought slowly, returning home to find his wife was with another man and planning to leave him on the basis of him dying of his illness. She left with her new wife and the kids shortly after that, leaving a heartbroken and still recovering Gabby behind in shambles.
Piston Hurricane: Hurricane himself is very quiet, never speaking. No one knows why, and any bit of his past life isn't on record either. Rumor has it though that due to past trauma he became Selective Mute. No one can confirm if this is true and frankly, Desire prefers it stays this way.
Bob Charlie: One of the only ones in the WVBA with a relatively peaceful life. The worst thing that could've happened to him was that he banged his knee on the kitchen counter...dòt salo
Dragon Chan: His family home in Hong Kong resided by a huge factory, the place practically leaked pollutants and thus caused their home to become polluted, making it unsafe. As they were trying to evacuate the house, Dragon's eldest nephew got lost in the fumes and died to the poison. He and his family all soon left for America, but a year later he would return in the hopes of restoring his home to its former glory.
Masked Muscle: He grew up very poor and saw a lot of violence as a kid. He soon grew into this violent facade during his teen years and became quite the troublemaker for not only his town but his family, who had to bail him out of jail one too many times. He's grown to control this anger but every now and again he can lash out unexpectedly.
Heike Kagero: Born in a very prestigious family and moving to America at a young age, Heike had lost a lot of knowledge of his own heritage. This became a bigger problem as, at 19, he was set to marry many gorgeous Japanese suitors, all of whom were not just older than him, but proud and very traditional. This has caused him to become very insecure about his lack of knowledge around his own culture.
Mad Clown: He grew up in a loving home of performers, from many different branches. He got himself into the Opera, but when he grew tired of it and ran off to join the circus he found that life even more monotonous, causing him to become very grumpy and unnecessarily aggressive towards others. Due to this he doesn't have a lot of friends and lots of folks at the WVBA tend to avoid him.
Narcis Prince: He grew up very privileged and isolated from others. He grew up setting very high standards for himself others. This made him become a bit of a recluse, which lead to him struggling to make friends or even holding conversations with the people in his work space. He wants to try and be better at this, but it's a struggle for him to try and "lower his expectations" so he doesn't really bother.
Hoy Quarlow: Poor Quarlow was apparently burdened with a terrible secret that, according to him, if it ever got out, it would tear the WVBA apart. He won't specify what but based on how he looks at the ropes, I have a general idea...
Rick Bruiser: A generally happy fellow, there isn't a lot really WRONG in his life, however he has said several times how he misses his brother and wishes he would come back. He has admitted that both of them grew up in a very unforgiving household, and that Nick had to do something unspeakable to their parents, which caused them to run away when they were both in their teens, and he misses having that comfort of his brother beside him. He even mentioned that he gets scared that something will happen and the two will be separated again...guess he isn't as invulnerable as we thought...
Nick Bruiser: [REDACTED]
#punch out#punch out wii#punch out!!#punchout#punch out oc#robin pierre#robin answers#birdie blue#gabby jay#piston hurricane#bob charlie#dragon chan#masked muscle#heike kagero#mad clown#narcis prince#hoy quarlow#rick bruiser#nick bruiser
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(yes this is abrupt shh) Some thoughts on “The Dragon’s Promise” by Elizabeth Lim!
Hello, Tumblrians! Due to my delay on my Gilded Ones review, I didn’t conduct a review for this book after I finished it. Oops. Hence why I’m publishing this in such a short period of time after my Gilded Ones review, as I had most of that prepared beforehand but I’m just typing this one out of my arse in the hopes I catch up with my reading records.
Whilst I may not have it documented on this blog(everything I’ve read is from January 2023 onwards), at the end of last year I finished reading Six Crimson Cranes. ‘Twas a solid book! (I did make an extensive review for it on a Padlet for my school dedicated to reviewing stories available from our library, though! I wish I could share it without being doxxed because then y’all would have more context!) Shiori’s character growth felt very earned, although I can’t say that I was 100% happy to see it under the circumstances she was in. I’m a sucker for fairytales too, which is why I adore the fantasy genre to pieces (I am trying to branch out though), and the inspiration integrated into the story was pretty neat even if I’d never read The Wild Swans by Hans Christian Anderson. With that said, it still chose to forge a path for itself, and besides having different cultural influences in its world unlike the European origins of The Wild Swans, carried things out a bit differently narratively. It was appreciated, as someone who only needed to read the summary of the tale to know how it ended and didn’t want every plot twist and final word of Six Crimson Cranes to be spoiled to me as a result. Plus, even though I rated it 4 out of 5 stars, it not-so-steadily climbed up my mental ranks to become one of my favorite books. (Again with that “my personal enjoyment of a book is sometimes different from the rating I give it, which I base off of objective quality”.)
So as you can expect, I picked up The Dragon’s Promise with zero hesitation after I saw it in a local library and clutched it with glee.
So as you can expect, I picked up The Dragon’s Promise with zero hesitation after I saw it in a local library and clutched it with glee.
I was a little bit disappointed with it, though. I had seen a review a few months ago, before I’d read Dragon’s Promise, saying it suffered from “sequel syndrome”, and couldn’t quite capture the lightning in a bottle from the first book, and it’s a sentiment I agree with. So much happened in this book, but it also feels like so little did too. And in an action that I think is supposed to be emotional, we have to say goodbye to a lot of the elements and characters we grew attached to in the first book. We only got to have one book with them! And now in a world with so much going on, but where everything now moves at an alarmingly quick pace, I didn’t even feel that sad. I just felt disappointed, like I was cheated somehow. We were introduced to all of these characters, and now we have to say farewell to them so abruptly. This issue also, in my opinion, stripped the plot of its permanence.
I think the worst part of this though is that I don’t think there will be another book to fix the Sequel Syndrome present. Everything is wrapped up here. It’s a duology, soon to be a trilogy with a prequel book coming out about Raikama, but Shiori’s story is done. That realization probably hurt me more than most of the events within the story. I wish this could’ve been a trilogy, the pacing would work so much better.
Spoiler section! This does cover mainly Six Crimson Cranes content. So if you haven’t read that, tread lightly!
So the main issue I had with the book in my Padlet review for it was that I felt that Raikama, or rather Channari if we feel like using her real name, being revealed to not be the main villain after everything she did to Shiori and her brothers felt..strange. Her motivation was confirmed last-minute as she was dying, and they pulled a Darth Vader where they redeem a character with a sacrifice they make that leads to their death.
Sure, there were some memories that hinted at her not being as evil as our protagonist originally thought she was, but they felt more like trying to humanize a villain than foreshadowing the true events of the book? Yes, I get she messes with memories and stuff so we can’t have that much, but I found it convoluted that the explanation for this not being built up very well was because she was so scared of hurting Shiori by being close to her that she completely brainwashed her into thinking she was terrible. And then Shiori had that realization while being burned by that other sorceress or somewhere close to that point (forgot her name but it started with a Z?), and, fine, if we had more time to dig into Raikama’s character while she was still alive, maybe we could’ve seen what got her to be so desperate. But we didn’t get that, and the demon king got defeated by an amateur sorceress like..one book after he was introduced. This is when I start REALLY WISHING THIS WAS A TRILOGY because MAYBE WE COULD SEE MORE OF THE CATASTROPHIC EFFECTS THAT GOT RAIKAMA TO BE SO DESPERATE TO PROTECT HER KIDS AND SAVE HER FROM THEM THAT SHE DECIDED TO CURSE AND TRAUMATIZE SHIORI AS WELL AS PUT SHIORI’S BROTHERS IN AGONY😭😭BRO😭
(Being burned at the stake and technically dying a book later is pretty bad though. Maybe I’m being picky here. Parents who might be reading this help me out???)
Even though Dragon’s Promise essentially expanded onto what I disliked the most about Six Crimson Cranes (the..entire time), surprisingly though that was not the thing I was most bothered by. It was literally the pacing lmao. At some point I just got desensitized to Raikama/Channari’s tragic backstory and the attempts to make her as redeemable and morally good as they could. I literally couldn’t find it in myself to be annoyed anymore. Not that I enjoyed that? I don’t think I did, I was just exasperated.
I get that she isn’t as bad as most book antagonists, though. I guess I should take that into account. Maybe I should be less harsh and there’s something I’m missing idk.
With that said though, the depiction of Shiori’s grief, and how she felt it, was something I didn’t have an issue with. She didn’t fully recover from it, and it wasn’t a linear process. But it’s kind of a weird zone to be in, where I don’t take issue with the subject matter that follows but I do whatever spurred it. Ehhhhggghhh.
End of spoiler territory!! You may proceed.
Anyhow. Did I still burn through this in 4 days, give or take? Yeah. It wasn’t exactly a boring read, and I still liked it to a degree, but I was left wanting more. It didn’t feel like it was meant to be the book to conclude this series’ timeline, despite its poetic ending and all of the goodbyes(which Lim likely wanted the reader to do in their mind, too). I’m just disappointed.
Also! Different note, but: I’m going to have to develop a weekly book review schedule so I a.) don’t get freaked out, b.) can be persuaded to keep up with my Goodreads challenge of reading 50 books this year (4 books ahead of schedule!! Might end up doubling it to 100, it’s only the beginning of February that’s a lot), c.) have something to look forward to every week! I am never in a very good mental state, I find joy in whatever is possible to at this point.
This review is probably the most critical one on here so far. I wasn’t expecting that but I did it as I was writing, so… Hopefully you guys like to see Critical Paz though! Or at the very least don’t mind him. He’ll be going into hibernation shortly after this review is published, honk shoo mimimi.
Here’s some things I did like about it though: Takkan and Shiori’s relationship remained sweet, and although Shiori tried keeping secrets from him initially(for his well-being), it was encouraged for her to communicate honestly and so we didn’t have to do with the dreaded miscommunication trope that plagues most YA media. (Of which I’ve been thankful to have mostly avoided, but..eughhegfheb.) The descriptions of the different locations were very interesting, they felt vibrant like the first book! I also enjoyed Kiki more in this book, she made me giggle a couple of times with her bluntness and sarcastic remarks.
That shall be all.
Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️/5 stars.
Paz, signing off!
(Book trigger/content warnings: Blood(a sizable amount, actually), grief, can’t think of any others except for that a character almost dies from drowning.)
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SR: Ch. 1 A Hard Climb
Chapter Summary: Alys begins her search outside Ilirea grappling her way through stony terrain and cliffs before finally finding a cave late that night, with the dragon she’s searching for.
Prologue, Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3
Alys gripped the cold stone, her fingers aching and her shoulders sore. Why hadn’t she taken Murtagh’s offer? Flying over this finger-tearing and boot-wearing landscape would have made her search so much easier.
But alas, she had said no, and no one was going to fly out and find her until sunset.
She looked down, holding onto the grey stone with one hand buried in a crevice just big enough to hold her. She was only a few feet off the ground, but this was her third hard climb this morning in this dark, overgrown, rocky forest—how so much vegetation grew here was a mystery. And from what she could see a league away in the small village she was staying in, these climbs went on for another few leagues, at least.
Alys sighed, looking at the beams of sunlight gracefully blessing the lush forest floor through the thick branches and leaves of the canopy above. Was that the universe trying to show her some sign of hope? Or was it telling her that there was a slim chance she’d actually find this dragon? And even then the chances of them siding with her were even slimmer—like the few flowers she’d seen among the ferns and dock leaves.
She hated to admit it but maybe it was right, maybe she should have been smarter and listened to Ugauc when he sensed something up, instead of being curious and—
Alys cut off that thought and turned around, the swelling growing in her throat again. Not now! She reached her other hand up and found a nook to use to lever herself upward.
She had thought about using magic to get to the top, to teleport herself or to fly herself up, but that felt lazy as though finding the dragon that way would decrease her chances even more or getting them to join her. She wanted to prove herself as a worthy rider to this dragon, to prove she was willing to go above and beyond to help them recover from their loss.
“But is that the best way to do it?” Alys thought aloud—after all the only things to hear her would be the squirrels and crows. “To force them to bind with someone else?”
“I’m not going to force them!” she hissed at herself. “I’m going to give them and option and prove that their addition to the Dragon Riders will be the most helpful.”
But then she realised what she said. She pulled herself onto the plateau and looked up at the next steep climb—it was four times her height. “I can’t just guilt-trip them either,” she said, bundling up her dreadlocks and tying them up with a hair-tie. “I have to prove that we can help them, whether they bond to me or not.”
“But what if they don’t like the thought of being tied to any one person or place?” She shook out her arms and walked on the squidgy moss and under the shadows of the tree to the next cliff to climb. “What if they’d just rather stay here?” Her cloud of uncertainty and despair grew darker.
Alys gripped the stone, finding crevices to lock her fingers into and pulled herself off the ground. “Then I guess I can respect that,” she said, staring at the pale grey stone as she grappled her way up.
She huffed, hoping the spell she cast earlier that morning would work and she wouldn’t have bloody fingers by this evening. “But I still want to help them,” she said. “Umaroth said they were suffering; so surely there’s more than a broken bond that’s hurting them, right? So maybe I can help them with that first? At least then I’d feel better knowing I helped them.”
She sighed and dragged herself up onto the next plateau, her fingers felt like they were nothing with nerves and bone. The tips of her fingers were swollen and in utter agony. “Barzûl,” she swore. She drew in a breath and without uttering a word, her fingertips tingled, and the pain faded; they looked as though she’d barely been climbing at all. Alys bobbed her head, satisfied and started towards the next cliff; this one was five times her height.
She paused and sighed. “For the dragon,” she said, her face hardening. She took a step forward. “For the dragon,” she echoed, reaching for the next crevice to dig her fingers into.
Alys’ climb was long and hard, and she argued with herself the whole way up about the morality of convincing a broken dragon to bond with her, to the point where when she finally stood in front of a cave—the cave the Eldunarí had showed her—she lingered, wondering whether going in was a good idea or not.
The mouth of the cave was huge; as big as the door to Shruikan’s old prison in Ilirea. She could see the walls of the city from where she stood a few leagues away.
Alys felt as though she would enter and never see the light again; that the dark cave would snap her up and swallow her whole like a giant snake and refuse to let her go.
She drew in a breath, trying not to focus on the darkness. “Here I come, mystery dragon,” she mumbled. She held up her hand, glancing at her gedwëy ignasia. “Garjzla,” light, she instructed. An emerald orb of glowing magic formed a close to her palm and she walked forward.
Alys’ hand itched to grab her sword, but she stayed strong, forcing herself to believe that violence and threats would not be needed, nor wanted, today.
The darkness enveloped her as she walked forward. She could feel painful, telepathic tendrils coming from deep inside the cave. She winced feeling her back and neck get sore and a stinging in her left eye. Alys paused, waiting to see if her entire body got sore, as it did during the night when she and Ugauc would randomly connect, and his pain would be hers.
But no other discomfort came.
Alys drew in a breath a straightened her posture—this was the mystery dragon’s pain. She continued forward, she footsteps echoing around her with the empty sound of dripping water. The pale green glowing light illuminated what she needed to see.
She brushed through an inch deep puddle of water, the pain in her back deepening. She pace slowed the farther she went in, as did the pain. Helping this dragon would be her number one priority once they met.
But when the agony was so intense her head began to grow light, a warm breeze washed over her, and a rasping sound surrounded her.
Alys spun around, holding her glowing orb high. The cave fell quiet, and she forced away the pain, blocking her mind. Minutes went by before the air around her was sucked to the side. And minutes later the rasping came again.
It was breathing. Long breaths with long pauses between each one to fill giant lungs.
Alys could almost hear Ugauc say, What were you saying about listening to me more? with a hint or sarcasm.
How big was this dragon?
As big as Shruikan?
As big as Belgabad?
“Hello?” she called. Her voiced echoed around her. “Skulblaka,” she said, walking towards where the warm breeze came from in the chamber. “I was hoping we could talk?”
A low grumble came from close in front of her. Alys inched closer, holding her orb as far out as she could until it reflected against somethings matte black. She reached out, thinking it was part of the cave wall, only to have one of the black somethings fall off at her touch and fall to the floor, shattering into dozens of pieces.
It was a worn dragon scale; she knew the feel of them too well.
And this dragon was very sick.
“I’m here to help you,” she said. “I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
The grumbling came again; this time it was louder, angrier. Pain shot through Alys again, rendering her to her knees. How did you find me?! growled the dragon, his agony hers.
Alys held her hand to her eye. “The… Eldunarí,” she forced out. “They said you needed my help.”
I need no one! he snapped. Leave! He left her mind.
Alys returned the barrier to her mind and pushed herself to her feet. How had he lasted so long in so much pain? “Please,” she pushed on, forging her way to his head. The light of her orb had grown dimmer, but it’s light was enough to spot the glimmer of his eye high above her.
The dragon’s lip lifted as he snarled, flashing stained teeth right in front of Alys’ face.
She peered up at his pale blue eye, ignoring the stench from his mouth. Its pupil had a silver sheen and was surrounded by blood coloured sclera. Something about this blinded eye and a giant dragon sounded familiar.
“Who are you, skulblaka?” Alys asked, standing back and brightening the light from the orb so she could see as much as she could of him.
I… am no one, Shur’tugal. So, leave, he replied dimly, this time not sharing his anguish with her.
Alys wanted to scoff but she bit her tongue, thinking. A dragon this large was unheard of; apart from one… who had been killed by being stabbed in the eye with a Dauthdaert.
“Are you Shruikan?” Alys asked.
The cave stayed silent, until he took another breath. Yes, he said. I… am Shruikan.
#the inheritance cycle#inheritance cycle#fanfiction#inheritance cycle fanfic#shruikan's rider#sr#alys emmasdaughter#shruikan#eragon bromsson#saphira#dragons
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It’s a crime that Tales from the Borderlands is not more widely appreciated.
I played the game 5 years ago and had recently bought borderlands 2. I spent 30 hours completing sidequest and the main mission only to lowkey be kinda dissapointed with the story. I was expecting something longer which ig is on me. it’s more of a shoot a lot first story second kinda game ig (not saying the story was bad. i really liked it and it’s characters, I just wished it was more fleshed out)
anyways, I then thought “hey, isn’t TFTBL set after this game? and sure enough it was, and so I hopped on my ps4 and redownloaded it and played it through again. all in one sitting. and my god was it just as good as I remembered.
Sure. There are some jokes that don’t really land, and some levels can be a bit confusing to figure out how to continue, and the animation hasn’t aged amazingly, but it’s probably one of the best stories tied to borderlands out there and if I am bold, one of the best telltale games released. I love The Walking Dead S1 and I’d have to replay it to be 100%, and trust me, WDS1 is still AMAZING, but I think Borderlands expands on what made Telltale’s games so good and used every aspect in the story to not only improve borderlands as a whole, but make a damn good story.
The dual protagonist idea was a fucking amazing choice. It not only gives insight on the Hyperion Corporation, something that was really fun to see, but also directly compares and contrasts the characters through story and mechanics. Also. The change in UI color and design depending on who you’re controlling was a really great touch. Just viewing this story through either Rhys or Fiona would have been probably been a good story, but allowing both gives it such a richness that is really nice. Also even when you are not controlling your other character, they don’t feel like they ever stray from how you play them.
Another thing I loved was the dialogue choices. This game. is so good. with it’s dialogue and branches. This is the part where I solidly think this is THE best usage of the Telltale storytelling technique and where it shines the most. The Dialogue doesn’t only give different characterizations for your character and effects minor beats, but allows you to literally control what tropes are in the game and what kind of character arc you want to play out. As someone who has been struggling with Dragon Age: Inquisitions’ roleplay, The sheer amount of control over your character was extremely refreshing and very easy to play out how I wanted it. Specifically in the scenes where you decide who you reveal jack to. The game could have very easily slipped into the trope of hiding a super important secret, but you can just, disregard it and decide to trust your friends, bypassing an honestly really annoying trope. I know one time I went to tell Athena about Handsome Jack and Jack literally smacked me into not telling her, which didn’t feel like a cop out at all and was really funny and honestly made me like the moment even more than trying to lie. It’s just so good. You can also have Fiona keep her trust in Rhys or immediately break it, which I also really fucking appreciated. The fact that you can control 2 vital character’s reactions to another character’s choice is honestly so nice to shape what kind of story you want to tell. And it never feels too forced, if anything, it feels almost freeing even withing the games confines of just 3 (technically 4) dialogue choices.
Another thing that this game is just. so good at, is it’s tone. Borderland’s plots do have a lot of emotional moments, but also keep a steady stream of humor, and this game is no different. There’s a lot of references, but also just, a lot of really funny dialogue. Even at the crucial moments they knew how to curate the tone. So, for context, I am SUPER picky about mixing comedy and drama. One of the huge problems for me in TAZ: Balance was how the boys didn’t know how to quit trying to make jokes and just let a scene be dramatic (which is why I love Amnesty so much, because I feel like they struck a perfect balance). The reason I bring up TAZ is because I feel like they have two similar tonal structures, but Tales from the Borderlands does it correctly. Even when there are jokes in the most dramatic scenes, they never take you out of what is happening. Like when youre talking with Jack about taking over Hyperion, Jack will always make snarky remarks no matter what, but those humerous remarks become threatening, like when you have a happy sounding song actually be about something really fucked up. The game tries to be funny, but never sacrifices important plot and character moments to do so. Even after the death of Scooter, one of the options of the flag to put in space is “See you, space cowboy” and you laugh at that! You see it and you’re like “LOL NO WAY” And not only is the line actually referencing his death, but it’s also a reference to that one atomic bomb thing AND it has genuine emotional weight! I will admit, his death overall is kinda weak, but the circumstances honestly don’t take away too much. Again, the writing isn’t flawless, but none of it is ever outright bad. Mid at worst. But anyways, even after you send out the space cowboy beacon, when you arrive on Helios one of the guards metions it and says “something about anime?” Which honestly made me laugh even more because not only is cowboy bebop cannon to borderlands but also Fiona has watched it (or she made the most unfortunate coincidental message). But yea. Tone is A+ and passes my picky scale.
I’m so sad that the second game is already noticeably not as good. I really appreciate what they’re trying to do, but the writing is just. really bad. I watched the demo and there was just, no charm. I watched it right after I finished the game too because I accidentally tumbled upon the news and was like “YO NO FUCKING WAY HELL YEA!!!” but I watched it and immediatly deflated. I was so dissapointed. I hope that the game itself “is good actually!” but I doubt it from the outcome of Borderlands 3′s plot and what I;ve seen so far. The only thing I can hope is they don’t botch the revisit of the OG characters and ruin it in retrospect.
Also. I care Jack. a lot. He’s so fucked up. but also. god damn I love that crazed lunatic. he is such a good villain. Also I love how Rhys kinda bounces off of him because he’s his idol, and Rhys comes from a kinda fucked up place, and so it makes sense for Rhys to trust Jack throughout the story. just ugh. I love the characters in this game so much. I think Jack in this game is at his best. He’s inbetween insane and human and it’s honestly so good. He’s consistantly a horrible person but your character actively has an excuse for you to feed into it and go with it. It’s just. such good writing.
OH I ALMOST FUCKING FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT THE EMBELLISHMENTS BECAUSE THEYRE TELLING A FUCKING STORY FROM THEIR PERSPECTIVE!
The fact that the game will occasionally go waky because the character is telling it to make them look better than how it actually happened and the fact that the characters will break the story to correct eachother or make the other look worse is just. ugh. it is so good. And how we as the audience now can question some of the things we’re seeing because we are seeing the story through two unreliable narrarators, but also we get to see live reactions from Fiona and Rhys talks about trusting Jack and YOU GET TO CHOOSE TO EXPLAIN WHY HE DOES is honestly so fucking good. Again with this game having amazing roleplay potential. The Borderland’s world and humor really allows for the writers and story to do some really cool things, things that a series like the walking dead would NEVER get away with. One of my all time favorite scenes is the fucking finger gun scene. If you got this far and don’t know what I’m talking about, please fucking look up “Tales from the borderlands finger gun scene” on youtube because it is so fucking good and I still remembered it clearly 5 years later. Also another thing is I remembered A LOT of this game after so long. It goes to show just how impactful and memorable the game is. Rhys removing all of his cybernetics were so good. I’m so sad that TFTBL2 won’t continue their story lines. ugh. i don’t want to think about the wasted potential and how they could fuck it up. stop me.
Oh also another side note. I will note that there is an eeeeeh theme about this black goon that is constantly the butt of the joke of Fiona and is the only one of the two who is super villainized. I found his partner to be as corrupt but I feel like he definitely wasn’t as punished as the other dude was. He was still killed in the end and treated as a villain, but again, i don’t think as bad as the other guy. You can literally disfigure him and it’s a long running joke. Idk it didn’t sit too well with me. Also with Yvette I again feel like she was done dirty. Like, I am not saying black characters can’t be the villains, but that’s 2/3 POC main characters that are openly villianized and get a lowkey really bad end. Idk it just sat wrong with me on the playthrough. I still love Yvette though, her character besides that was good
but yea. i am so sorry for my rant. i just. needed this. this game is so good for absolutely no reason.
#tales from the borderlands#borderlands#borderlands 2#new tales from the borderlands#tales from the borderlands 2#video game#video game rant#seriously#where is the love
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Thoughts on Tales of Vesperia after completing Act 1
So recently I got Tales of Vesperia on the Switch, owing mostly to the strongly positive opinion the fanbase at large holds in their hearts for this one. I thought it’d be a good time to take a pause and share my thoughts on the game, particularly its characters, plot, and the actual gameplay.
Since this game enjoys such a strongly positive reaction within the fanbase, I’m going to be very direct and uncompromising with my thoughts. I would just like to say right off that I think it’s a good game and I’m eager to see what follows. Additionally, just to make this clear, this is only based on my thoughts up to a certain dragon calling Estelle an “insipid poison”. I have also heard that Act 2 is where it starts getting good, so I’m looking forward to that.
I’d also like to say that prior to this game, my experience with the Tales of Series is limited to Phantasia, Eternia, and Berseria.
Spoilers to follow, obviously.
So starting with the elephant in the room; Yuri Lowell. And my god, is this character popular with the fans, holy shit. Unfortunately, I found him rather... disappointing.
If I were to sum Yuri up in three words, it’d be “baby’s first antihero”. Let’s make one thing clear; Yuri is not even morally-grey, he’s a squeaky clean morally-white hero who performs unambiguously good deeds and is nice to basically everyone he meets that doesn’t start shit with him. The worst he’ll do is snark while he’s performing heroics and commit crimes against a government so corrupt that the circumstances, and his lack of collateral damage, absolve him of any guilt.
He might have been impressive compared to the likes of Cress Albein, but this guy was made in 2008! Code Geass predated Tales of Vesperia by two years and Lelouch did the “revolutionary who fights a corrupt government through immoral means” shtick with way more moral nuance than Yuri does, and that’s to speak nothing of Velvet Crowe, Yuri’s 8-years hence successor in dark heroism, who does his whole thing with far more actual dark deeds to her name.
This goes nicely into Flynn, who is... a cop. A relentlessly-moralizing cop who can’t seem to go a scene without scolding Yuri for being reckless (even though Yuri’s recklessness never actually punishes him) and chides him for leaving the knights and casting aside his ability to make change, even though the only thing Flynn accomplishes when he’s not taking advantage of something Yuri did is running around the continent like a chicken with its head cut off.
Flynn appears naively blind to how hopelessly corrupt the system he’s trying to “change from the inside” happens to be, with rotten eggs being present in both of the Empire’s branches of power (Ragou and Cumore particularly) and both taking immoral and occasionally murderous steps to control the future emperor.
This game is, without doubt, a vigilante power fantasy. Yuri breaks the law and spends several hours of the game having essentially kidnapped one of the imperial heirs on a careless fancy but because the trio sent to arrest him are painfully incompetent and he has both the prince and princess on his side he gets away with it, he goes off into things perpetually half-cocked yet it always manages to work out, and when the corrupt noble Ragou gets off with a slap on the wrist for treason, Yuri just takes the law into his own hands and mercs the bastard at night and tosses him into the river. While inside a city which has an often adversarial relationship with the Empire from which Ragou hails. And he somehow fails to start an international incident in doing this.
(Sigh)
Well, getting off Yuri.
Estelle’s a great character. I’m a sucker for strength-building character arcs, and watching Estelle go from a painfully sheltered princess to... well, still a painfully sheltered princess but one who knows she has to get un-sheltered is nice.
Karol sparks my issues with kid characters. I don’t actually mind his cowardice, because he’s a kid, but by god does he need to learn to keep his mouth shut. His perpetual noisiness and need to interject himself into every moment is what actually irritates me.
Rita’s a walking vehicle for double standard female-on-male abuse, which is depressingly mid-2000′s, but because her victim is often Karol when he draws attention to himself or Raven when he acts... like himself, I’m more inclined to forgive her. I also think her anthropomorphization of Blastia is a very endearing and unique character trait; it nicely demonstrates how into her field of research she is. Her crush on Estelle is also pretty cute, and I actually like that she’s a character who’s tagging along for differing reasons than the rest. I kinda dislike when I can’t get a good feeling on why the individual members of the party are even present beyond a generic, “we must save the world!” thing.
Judith’s an interesting woman, but more in the sense that I’m interested in what she’s hiding, for she’s clearly hiding a lot. As a character, watching her interactions with Yuri is a lot of fun.
Raven’s a funny guy. I like his perpetual old-man shtick, though his horniness for Judith is pretty creepy and I hope it gets toned down. He’s also hiding a lot, obviously, and I’m interested in seeing where it goes.
Repede’s... a dog. A cool stoic dog, but still :’D
As for the plot, this one feels a little strange in that it’s a bit late into the game and I’m not quite sure what the final course of the plot will be. I’m sure we’ll be dealing with the Empire’s corruption for a while, but I sincerely doubt that’ll be how the story ends. Most likely the real plot has something more to do with what’s up with Estelle, the nature of Blastia, and why Judith was destroying them.
Gameplay is your standard Tales action RPG affair. It feels a lot more technical than Eternia and a lot less forgiving than Berseria, so it’s a bit more challenging than I’m used to. Nothing overwhelming, though, and the concept of secret missions in boss fights is pretty novel, even if some of them are a bit tough to figure out.
Dungeons are generally pretty good. They’re quite simple compared to how maze-like they can get in Phantasia and Eternia and generally revolve around a central gimmick, but they’re leagues better than Berseria and its endless corridor-dungeons.
So yeah, in whole, pretty good game, interested to see where it goes from here!
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I’ve thought about this for awhile, but I have never had anybody to mention it to. I think you have some pretty interesting takes on things so I figured I’d send it your way. I hope you don’t mind.
Would the Wizarding World be affected by climate change or would they be able to protect themselves against it?
I don’t mind at all! I’m not as up to speed on climate change as I’d like to be but thanks for thinking of me with this one - use me as a sounding board, make my brain branch out. Honestly, I can say I’ve never thought about it so here are my newly formulated thoughts on it:
Like a lot of issues, I think that the wizarding world have a distance and delay from the real effects of climate change and global warming that Muggles/Muggleborns/people familiar with both worlds aren’t afforded.
Climate change is universal, so they’d absolutely be affected but there would probably be a greater range of protections and adjustments for magical people compared to Muggles so they could essentially blissfully ignore it for a bit longer. Whereas for Muggles it’s preventative action, I think wizards would be like “yeah we can hold that off for a bit” and just use magic as a short term correction as and when they come across an isolated issue caused by climate change and I think they’d go on like that for a while. They’d know that it’s happening, but they’d be like “well we can just magic it better and that’s all we need to do, problem solved”
Naturally I think it would start affecting magical wildlife, plants, non-human magical beings first, then ordinary human wizards & witches later so that would delay any meaningful response for a while. You’d probably get witches and wizards who work with plants and creatures lobbying about it first and getting dismissed as melodramatic
In the WW there’s also this pattern of activism being widely dismissed and almost a joke - the attitudes to S.P.E.W, goblin rebellions, to werewolves, to Hagrid as a half-giant, to “part-humans” in general gives the impression of quite a conservative, separatist, fairly cold and brutal society
I also think that even with an awareness of it, the WW would shift all the blame to Muggles - “they use those big aeroplanes and cars but we don’t use any fuel when we fly and Apparate, we’re energy neutral, etc” - but I also think that they wouldn’t try to help change the impact of Muggle lifestyles on the planet despite having the means to. (That’s probably ignorant of them bc I bet dragons would contribute to global warming??)
Probably it would be a point of contention where some wizards would think that they should intervene and help out non-magical people and others would think they shouldn’t. Is there really that much hope though when magical people didn’t intervene in the World Wars supposedly? But maybe attitudes on magic-Muggle relations changed after Voldemort died and people opened their eyes and became a bit more altruistic. I’m sceptical tbh, magical people aren’t written as particularly progressive in the series
That said, I think when climate change does start interacting with magic, it would be insane and disastrous and the wizarding world would have no choice but to get involved, if only for their own sakes.
This is such an interesting question, I rarely talk about anything outside of like 6 characters and it was great, tbh. It reminds me of having general HP thoughts and theories when I was a kid. Would love to hear more on this from others (who know a lot more than I do)!
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Content warning: talks briefly of sexual assault, ptsd, birthdays, and just raine rambling
Hey friends! I know I haven’t written much lately but life got busy (I moved out, am attending college, etc etc) but I just wanted to take a moment to talk about today. September 21st is my birthday, and for the longest time I hated celebrating it.
I don’t remember many birthdays, my fiftieth birthday I spent reeling from the trauma of getting sexually assaulted by my partner at the time, and having my feelings disregarded afterwards. I had come home and ate pancakes for dinner with my sister and her boyfriend fighting off a panic attack, I still can’t eat captain crunch pancakes three years later.
My sixteenth birthday I didn’t want to celebrate, I didn’t see much reason to. I was getting harassed and threatened by the local moms for liberty branch for a video of me on a pride float giving my partner at the time a kiss on the cheek. I spent my birthday anxiously watching a school board meeting trying to stomach the cake my parents got me, watching people come to defend a stranger while dealing with my ptsd. My friends eased my anxieties, my friend got breakfast from a gas station on our way to school, other friends bought me small presents and told me I’d be okay. My birthday suddenly felt a little easier to celebrate.
My seventeenth birthday I spent chatting with a guy who was older than me, having fallen into a toxic friend group online and struggling with ptsd. I had dreaded the day for the whole month, but my friends made the day easier. They got me gifts, and I couldn’t go into my classes without my teachers greeting me with a happy birthday and a small gift. I had thought no one would remember, but they did and made an effort to make a day I hated easier on me. I was helping to build a float with the dungeons and dragons club for home coming and when I got to float building the day after I was showered with belated happy birthdays and laughter as we put the finishing touches on the float.
And now, my eighteenth birthday. I’ve been living on my own for about a month now, yesterday I was depressed and tired from working myself too much trying to make rent and dreading my classes. But on my walk back to the apartment I stopped to get myself dinner and the smile of the kind man behind the counter as he took my order and gave me a student discount seemed to snap me out of it (along with the delicious pad thai I got). I was able to call and talk with my girlfriend and rant about my job, and at around 10 I was able to open my birthday gifts a little early (it was a blåhaj, incense sticks, a new holder, and a little book called “pet this f*cking puppy”) and talked with my roommates (two of my longtime best friends) about our days, laughing nearly to the point of tears before going to work on my homework. This morning I got myself Starbucks and when I checked my social media was flooded with happy birthday messages from friends and family. I’m going to go back home to have dinner with my parents and see my girlfriend.
What I’m trying to say is, it does get easier. It doesn’t seem much like it but year by year, it does get easier. Your birthday is something worth celebrating, maybe not to you but to those around you it’s worth it. I promise you, there’s someone who looks forward to your birthday every year it rolls around.
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pt 6 Princesses, Dragons, and Elves oh my!
Lana hesitated before following, curiosity getting the better of her embarrassment.
~*
There followed an enlightening but boring time as Gill paused constantly to show her plants and explain their properties and uses, sometimes picking them and putting them away in one of the pouches on his belt.
He noted Lana’s attention wandered after a while, clearly getting bored, But Gill didn’t slow by much. It was sort of his intention to show the tedious stuff a person had to learn if they wanted to travel and live off the land.
She apparently decided to alleviate her boredom via interruption.
“Gill, can I ask how old you are?”
“Me?” Gill was currently kneeling, digging away at some wild vegetable to put in the stew. He had a few tied to his pack, “Three-hundred-seventy-eight, I think.”
“You think?” came the surprised comment of disbelief.
“I’d have to do-” Gill paused as he pulled at the stubborn roots, voice strained, “Hnnn! -Some calculations. Ulf! But I’m pretty sure. Haven’t kept proper track in some time so I may be off a year. Ah! Yis!”
Out came the root. He gave it several shakes to get the worst of the dirt clumps off “Hold this for me?” he asked, handing it up. Lana took it grudgingly by the leafy stem, trying to hold it with the least amount of contact as possible.
Gill mentally chuckled as he got up and dusted his hands off each other, “Right, this way.”
There was a pause in the instruction as he didn’t see anything new of note. But as they got to one of the traps Lana spoke up again.
“How long have you been traveling?”
“Hnn…” he had to think about that, “Let’s see… I’m nearly four-hundred… I was… was… I think I was in my early hundreds when I left to strike out on my own. Community life wasn’t for me.”
Lana frowned at the root, watching to be sure it didn’t drop any dirt on her, “Elves keep to themselves to the north usually, right?”
“And south I discovered,” Gill lightly informed her, “There’s another continent separate from this one where dark skinned elves and humans live. Skin nearly black as ebony.”
Lana let out a quiet exclamation of surprise, “You’re kidding. Dark as Ebony?”
“Humans, anyway,” Gill amended, “Elves were more like varying shades of brown. I suppose they would be the south’s version of fair skinned. Huh,” he paused, “Hadn’t really thought of that until now.” He thought a little longer as he pulled a branch out of their path, allowing Lana to pass.
“Their hair was unusual,” he continued, taking the lead again, “Often put in thin braids all over, with turquoise and beads of different kinds woven in. If the men grew it out some it sat like a dense bush on their heads. I could only say it was like frizzy curly hair taken beyond, I guess. Very dense in tight ringlets I think.”
He really didn’t know how to explain it, “They were rather wary of me, and I of them. Their culture is much different, I’d almost call it wild, or uncivilized, but I got to know it and it’s simply different. They’re more war-like than we are up north. So I’d say maybe more related to humans. Humans there on the contrary are extremely warlike and brutal, and live simpler lives. No vast stone castles or large settlements.” he paused as he came upon his trap and found no catch. One down, two more to check out.
The forest was becoming less even on the ground, rising and dipping. Gill was taking the best paths possible but he could only make it so easy.
“The elves had stone temples though, and that did feel primitive, if less so. Leastways much simpler architecture. Very blocky and more of painted pictures and carvings on the walls telling stories rather than statues decorating everything.
“Vast planes, vast jungles, very dangerous. I would have to draw you some of the animals and monsters I met, they were so different.”
As he said it he realized he was making adventure appealing again. Confound it. I’m trying to make her go home! He thought with despair. He didn’t want to put dreams in the head of a girl who likely couldn’t attain them.
“Wow,” Lana panted, struggling a little with the terrain. Sure enough there she was all excited, “I wish I could travel like you!”
Well now what did he do?
Not knowing how to remedy the situation he could only reply, “It has its moments.”
“The most exciting,” Lana paused their movement to catch her breath more, “Thing to happen to me was my coming of age ceremony and ball.” she sounded wistful, “Well, and once we visited a foreign kingdom. It was different, but I’d say not as different as what you’re describing. And tournaments are awfully exciting.”
So she was indeed eighteen. Gill noted that to himself. Been four or five years since she last saw Adam if he reckoned right.
“City culture can be fascinating to explore,” Gill tried to figure some way to encourage her not to feel depressed about her life. Really though he knew he was a hypocrite. Had he not run away from his duties he was training up for? Run from the pressure and… terror he couldn’t face…
“I suppose,” Lana sounded doubtful, “It would just be a lot of dry reading though, wouldn’t it?”
Gill shrugged, “Not if you find some excuse to be down among the people. Perhaps you should study to be a dignitary or ambassador?” he suggested.
“Mmm…” she pursed her lips, not biting, but she gestured for them to continue walking, and so they did, Gill helping her down a tricky part. Her riding dress was certainly more suited for the excursion than anything else
he imagined a princess normally wore. And she had good solid boots on with a low heel.
“If you’re sneaky and have someone trustworthy to show you more of the city up close you could explore.” he continued, “Keep to the safer areas and worse that’ll happen is a pickpocket takes your money, or necklace when you’re distracted. Oh, and you don’t hand out gold to poor people.”
Lana seemed more interested, but frowned, “Why? Wouldn’t they appreciate it?”
Gill paused, looking back at her, “In all honesty I probably shouldn’t be describing this stuff to you.” he hesitated on elaborating these things to a princess. Royalty.
“There’s no one around but you and me,” she replied with a slight smirk.
“Mmmm…” Gill hummed, the corner of his mouth lifting and eye squinting in thought as he considered, “Well, so. The reason why is one; you’ll give yourself away as rich, thus becoming a target, and two; more dangerous people will simply take the money away from the more needy, even beat them up for it.” or kill He decided not to add, “Coppers are better, they don’t draw as much attention. At the same time, not to sound callous, but it’s just generally not safe to give money to people unless you’re looking for information. When I’m dealing with hunting down a criminal or strange happenings that might be connected to a monster within the walls, the poor sometimes have useful information. If I can exchange something it’s preferable but a little money wi- This is not what I mean to be talking to you about.” he cut himself off abruptly, remembering he was talking to an upper class young lady.
“Awww!” Lana complained, then giggled, “You don’t get to talk to people much, do you?” she inquired, still amused, if disappointed.
He blinked, then Gill had to chuckled a little self-depreciatingly, “Astute observation. Sometimes I get rambly when I’m comfortable with people.” he replied, resolving to watch himself and not get off on tangents a girl shouldn’t hear. “I can go on about medicinal herbs if you get me started. I find them very fascinating what with the combinations that can be achieved, and of course the knowledge has saved my life on numerous occasions. I’d be a scholar or healer if I were not a wanderer.”
“What really made you wander?” Lana asked.
Having enough of this vein of conversation, Gill turned it around, “Eh, ‘nuff about me. What about you? What’s life been like? You’re brother gave me the impression you were something like thirteen-fourteen years old.”
“Fourteen?” Lana scoffed, “How long did you know my brother again?”
“Not all that long,” Gill shrugged, “I think he last saw you at about that age so you were frozen in time for him?”
Lana shook her head, “Fourteen! But yes, it’s been about four years since last I saw him.” she paused with a smile, “I begged him to bring me along, but of course I didn’t get my way. I thought I was grown up enough.”
She was silent for a time, “My coming of age was two months ago. I really wanted him to be there.” she said quietly.
The mood was instantly dampened. Gill came upon another trap that had been successful, and he let the silence sit as he worked the noose off the caught rabbit’s broken neck. He preferred his traps kill as quickly as possible. Gill hated the thought of an animal suffering slowly as it died in a trap. He noted Lana was looking elsewhere rather than his work. Naturally.
“I…” he didn’t know what to say, “I can’t say sorry enough. If I had had any sense of the time I likely would have insisted he go be there. Those are important milestones.” he said lamely.
Lana was quiet before she said in a subdued tone, “I hardly feel like a grownup at all. Having suitors all around me was exciting at the party, but, coming out here... Being with Glen. I realize I’m not ready for the next steps in my life. I don’t like the idea of marriage right now.”
Gill would have given her a pat on the shoulder if not for his hands being dirty and in the middle of handling a dead thing.
“Adulthood… is rough, not gonna lie,” he said, turning to her for a moment, “I finally found where I’m happy, which not everyone can find, but it took several decades of dealing with things that wound up too hard for me. I wasn’t up to the challenge of such responsibility.”
“Why?” Lana asked, eyes searching his, but Gill couldn’t meet her gaze.
“Couldn’t get over my fear.” he said simply, turning away and moving on.
“Fear–?” she started to ask, then caught herself, “Oh.”
There was a long depressed pause as both retreated into their not very happy thoughts.
“What… did you fly with?” Lana tentatively inquired.
Gill continued walking, “That’s part of what I said I may or may not divulge at some point. And this… isn't that point. Sorry.”
Lana waved her hands, “Oh! No no! I’m the one who’s prying! You don’t have to talk about it.” she reassured the elf, “I should be the one apologizing!”
Her earnestness elicited a chuckle that was half a cough from Gill, “It’s fine, it’s fine.” he reassured back, “An inquiring mind and curiosity are pretty good traits. Just have to have a little temperance.”
Lana laughed a little nervously, “You think so?”
Gill found the last trap had caught a squirrel. Well, mixed meats wouldn’t be terrible. He reset it and started their winding way back to the cave and Glen.
“Curiosity taught me many valuable lessons over the years.” He replied, then, “Alright, I want to listen to nature for a bit and have some silence, if that’s alright?”
“Oh, uh, yes, that’s alright.” Lana replied.
And so there was silence. Gill gave himself over to the land, listening to the sounds of the forest, feeling the cool air from the shade of the trees. It was getting very dark at this point but his keen eyes picked out the path carefully.
“Walk in my steps,” he commented suddenly, “I know you can’t see as well in the dark as I. Follow and it’ll be easier.”
He shortened his stride and took more time. Lana was breathing hard again and he had a feeling she would have very sore legs in the next day or two.
Back to embracing the quiet, he used his senses to enjoy different aspects of the nature about him. In a small clearing there were fireflies beginning to twinkle. A squirrel skittered when they returned to the trees, startling some bird with a harsh cry.
All too soon they were back. Glen was dozing but started awake as Lana hailed him.
“We’re back!”
Glen snorted awake, “I wasn’t sleeping!” he exclaimed quickly.
Gill resisted the urge to laugh, “Suuuure.” he replied sarcastically, “Just resting your eyes.”
“Yes! Exactly!” Glen replied, then frowned down at them, “You took your sweet time.”
Gill shrugged as he got down to the business of preparing food. He got his small pot out and instructed Lana to fill it with water as he moved to take the two kills and hang them to bleed for a bit. Lana was glad to drop the root until he asked her to wash that and the other vegetables he had gotten. She grumbled but did as told. For a princess she wasn’t very stuck up, Gill noted.
“Well, I’m primarily a trapper as opposed to a hunter,” he got back to the conversation, “So, you know, set several to put the odds in my favor. And I had to get some other things along the way.” he gestured to where Lana was moving down to the clear pool, “When I have the leisure I want my food to be savory and aromatic.”
He next set to rebuilding the fire with extra wood he had not yet used.
Glen then asked if he and Lana had talked about anything– “Well I learned that learning to live off the land is boring!” Lana commented– and Gill recounted some of the things, particularly about the southern continent since he thought Glen would find that more interesting.
Lana on the other hand recounted what he had not meant to talk to her about. Glen seemed just as intrigued surprisingly, “Certainly makes it easier to gather gold when people keep it in their treasuries.” he commented with a rumbling chuckle.
#fantasy#princess#princesses#dragon#dragons#elf#knight#adventure#knights#elves#gill#glen#lana#adventurer
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“I’d marry you today if I could, you know.”
Moiraine lifted her head and smiled, trying to shake off her melancholy. She picked up her mug of ale and settled back on to the bed, leaning into the curve of her lover’s body. “Would we live here? Have a home in the Fingers of the Dragon?”
“Mmn.” Siuan reached out to run her fingers through fine strands of long brown hair. “I’ll fish and cook for you, we’ll have a garden and raise the juiciest, sweetest fruit you’ve ever tasted.”
“I’d have to learn how to brew my own ale if you insist on drinking this horse piss.”
"Language.” Siuan tugged lightly at the hair wound around her fingers in admonishment. She laughed a little as Moiraine winced, before sitting up to kiss her in apology. “But anything to keep you by my side. Would a life like that make you happy, my love, after all your years in a saddle?”
“When I’m settling down to sleep, stones and branches digging into me through my bed roll and only half of me warm from the fire, that life is what I dream about. A home that we can make together. Being in the same bed every night, with you beside me.” Moiraine's lips curved up in a wry grin. “Hot baths. Our own bathing hut, that no one will judge me for using too long, which will always be scented with oils we like. We can build a fireplace inside, make the heat so intense that it hurts to breathe...”
“Sounds like you dream about that bathing hut more than me.” Siuan noted dryly.
Moiraine pinched the skin on her thigh where the robe fell open, knowing that it was one of her ticklish spots, smiling fondly as Siuan laughed and pushed her away. “Don’t be jealous. I dream about you in the bathing hut too.”
“Well, that’s something at least.” She let Siuan take her mug to set it aside, watching as her lover shrugged off her robe and dropped it on the floor. The other woman got back into bed with her, guiding her down until they shared a pillow. Moiraine swallowed at the look in her eyes, the love obvious in her soft smile as she reached out to trace her brow, her touch gentle and soothing.
“Siuan...” she haltingly began to confess. “The thought of being married to you, having a home together... it’s a dream I almost don’t dare to have. Tarmon Gai'don is coming, and the Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills...”
“I meant what I said earlier, Moiraine. One day, we will have more time, either in this life or the next.” Siuan’s voice took on the timbre it had in the Hall of the Tower, the look on her face was incandescent. “Every turning of the Wheel, I will find you. I promise.”
This was the woman she fell in love with, decades ago. She was a member of House Damodred, one of the royal line in Cairhien, yet it had been so easy for her to follow the daughter of a poor Tairen fisherman. Part of it was being hopelessly spellbound by Siuan’s quick mind and the mischievous smile that got them into trouble with the Mistress of the Novices more times than they could count. But it was also Siuan’s strength and conviction, that had her predicting from the day they met that her friend would eventually become the Amyrlin Seat and the most powerful woman in the world. She let that strength envelop her now, feeling safe in a way that she never allowed herself to feel on the road or in her own quarters, and finally slept.
#wotfic#moiraine x siuan#siuanraine#siuraine#drabble#ish?#idea kicking round#since marriage vows#confirmed#moiraine needed#the prompt#from somewhere#and imma#procrastinating
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