#unofficial Appear Unto
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After some questions about my ‘true’ form and whether or not I have a thousand eyes and a veritable farmyard of creatures emerging from my collar, I have decided to show you this record of an encounter between myself and a certain writer at the latter end of the Elizabethan period. I remember the event slightly differently, but I suppose one has to make room for artistic licence.
I’m assured that if you click ‘keep reading’, the full transcript will appear.
To assist you, I’ve added a glossary at the end.
And no, Crowley, this still doesn’t count as having wheels.
“This is an true accounting of mine own eyes, set down by mine hand this tenth night of September, in the yeare of Our Lord sixteen hundred and one. They will say I am gone mad, for such visions belong to those who dwell in Beth’lem Monastery, but I swear on all that is precious to me, this se’nnight past I saw an Angel.
I was but newly set out from the towne, and some light yet remained to guide my path, when I looked to the east and saw of a sudden a second dawn. T’was no earthly fire; Aye, I warrant you, I am not bestraught! My father spoke, in Harry’s day, of the great conflagration of Edinburgh. He told me that Hell had claimed the sky, for all above was a fury dress’d in crimson and wretched with soot. But here was nothing of red.
I have seen it since in dreams and will, I ken enow, see it as I draw my final breath. Hasten the day.
It was akin to a man. I gleaned as much in those moments when I looked upon it, ere it saw me and my wits fled me. But also unlike a man, for where a man has but one pair of hands were there some severall, and where a man has flesh and bone was there flame. Such pale fire have I never seen but I should think it alchymy, and mine eyes were indeed ensorceled, for I saw colours without name, and things too marvellous and awful to relate. I will. I must. This labour’d span is raised to worthy work, knowing the glory that awaits. But oh, I am affraid. I pray my sins have not snatched the cup from my lips.
This fearful apparition stood upon the hill, and the white fire that was its crown was with the thin night clouds commingled. Its face — no. Of that no more, yet. I cannot. All about was compassed in armillary radiances which turned one within another, the forme entire and every hand with pearlie lustre enwheeled.
Below, the flames of Tuscalonian hue that formed a body for the Presence were so and so girded with armour: bright fragments, the whole twixt corslet and grand guard, matched with cushes; all of nacreous stuff and lapis-ensigil’d but for one place high ‘pon the rightmost thighpiece where the intricate device was marred and running gold in place of gore.
What can wound an Angel? I think on this and tremble as the very earth trembled where it stood, ague-shooke by a low’ring thunder.
I have held golden angels in my palm and have seen them in holy glass and in base iron gaulle, with doves’ wings upon their shoulders. Foh, we are God’s own fools. Its wings were the clouds pierced by stormlight, dark upon light upon dark, and where they moved was printed a world beyond my understanding, witnest through a furnace shimmer.
I saw a flock of stars draw close around it, and it seemed to dote upon them and cosset them as a hunter with his favourite hounds, and I would there have fainted all away an if I had not been fixed in terror. For they were not specks and embers laid distant upon the sky, a sailor’s comfort and guide, but each and each an inferno pluck’d from Heaven; baleful sentinels from which no secret could be hidden. Such fell lights would render trivial the earthly fires of Nebuchadnezzar.
Words are meat and drink to me, yet do I tell this so poorly I should be ‘shamed and nevermore lift a goose-pen. Still, ‘tis no matter for who shall read it? When all is said, I’ll put these lines away and think on them no more. In telling will I win myself a little peace.
Wheretofore had I been silent, so now instantly did I weep, and laugh, and cry out for God’s mercy, and it looked upon me. Od's-me, it turned its Phoebean eyes on me and I saw its face. Above the gleaming corselet had that most blessed igenieur placed a maske of fine, unblemish’d parchment, in th’ likeness of a gentle visage, before the sainted flame. Troth, a kindely lanthorne of such boundlesse compassion that I fell upon my knees and made to crawl into the fire, sooner to know its forgiuenesse. Then did it smile, as no painted visor could, and all my knotted thoughts were ravel’d out and I was at once a babe, a foole, unfolded and sanctuarized. Under this soft and clement regard I swounded, onely to wake in my lodgings, ‘tired, but not tyred, my travells lost beyond recover.”
Glossary:
Beth’lem Monastery — Bishopgate hospital that would later become the notorious ‘Bedlam’.
se’nnight — seven nights — a week
warrant — assure/promise
bestraught — mad
Harry — another name for Henry — in this case Henry VIII
ere — until
ensorceled — enchanted
commingled — mixed with
compassed — surrounded by
armillary — resembling concentric rings set at angles
pearlie lustre — a pearl-like glow
enwheeled — encircled (shush, Crowley)
Tuscalonian — pale straw-yellow
girded — armoured
twixt — between
corslet — armour covering the upper body
grand guard — armour protecting the heart and left shoulder
cushes — armour for the thighs
nacreous stuff — resembling mother-of-pearl
lapis-ensigil’d — decorated in blue
intricate device — complicated symbol
ague-shooke — shivering, as with a sickness
low’ring — threatening/ominous
golden angels — gold coins stamped with the likeness of Michael defeating Lucifer
holy glass — church windows
iron gaulle — ink
Foh — an exclamation of disgust
cosset — fuss over
an if — if
goose-pen — a quill
Wheretofore — while until now
instantly — at the same time
Od's-me — an exclamation: ‘God save me’
Phoebean — relating to Phoebus/the sun
blessed igenieur — The creator
visage — face
Troth — an exclamation: ‘indeed’
lanthorne — lantern
painted visor — an immobile mask
ravel’d out — unwound
unfolded — exposed
sanctuarized — protected/sheltered
clement — forgiving
swounded — fainted
‘tired, but not tyred — a pun: ‘tired (attired) meaning dressed, tyred meaning weary
recover — remember
Addendum:
I’ve been asked to provide a translation for the Latin community. My grasp of Elizabethan Spanish would, I fear, let me down, so this is couched in modern terms…
Este es un relato verdadero de lo que vi, escrito por mi mano esta décima noche de septiembre, en el año de Nuestro Señor mil seiscientos uno. Dirán que me he vuelto loco, pues tales visiones pertenecen a los que viven en el Monasterio de Beth'lem, pero juro por todo lo que me es precioso, que la semana pasada vi a un Ángel.
Hacía poco que había salido de la ciudad, y aún quedaba algo de luz para guiar mi camino, cuando miré hacia el este y de repente vi un segundo amanecer. No era fuego terrestre; ¡te juro que no estoy loco! Mi padre hablaba, en tiempos de Harry, del gran incendio de Edimburgo. Me dijo que el infierno había reclamado el cielo, pues todo lo alto era una furia vestida de carmesí y desdichada por el hollín. Pero aquí no había rojo.
Desde entonces lo he visto en sueños y estoy seguro de que lo veré cuando exhale mi último aliento. Ojalá sea pronto.
Era como un hombre. Me di cuenta de ello en el breve momento en que lo miré, hasta que me vio y perdí la razón. Pero también era distinto de un hombre, porque donde un hombre tiene un solo par de manos había varias, y donde un hombre tiene carne y hueso había llamas. Nunca he visto fuego pálido como éste, a menos que fuera hecho por alquimia, y mis ojos estaban realmente encantados, porque vi colores sin nombre, y cosas demasiado maravillosas y horribles para relatarlas. Lo haré. Debo hacerlo. Esta vida dura merece la pena, sabiendo la gloria que aguarda después de la muerte. Pero tengo miedo. Rezo para que mis pecados no me hayan arrebatado la copa de los labios.
Esta temible aparición se alzaba sobre la colina, y el fuego blanco que la coronaba se enredaba con las delgadas nubes nocturnas. Su rostro... no. Aún no puedo hablar de ello. Todo estaba rodeado de ruedas de luz que giraban unas dentro de otras, y toda su forma y cada una de sus manos estaban rodeadas de un resplandor nacarado.
Debajo, las llamas de color amarillo pálido que formaban el cuerpo de la Presencia estaban cubiertas por piezas de armadura: fragmentos brillantes que, todos juntos, formaban una coraza, y una armadura para las piernas; parecían de nácar cubiertas de símbolos azules brillantes, excepto en un lugar en lo alto del muslo derecho, donde los adornos estaban dañados y sangraban oro.
¿Qué puede herir a un ángel? Pienso en esto y tiemblo como tiembla la tierra donde estaba, sacudida por truenos ominosos.
He tenido ángeles de oro (monedas) en la palma de mi mano y los he visto en vidrio sagrado y en tinta simple, con alas de paloma sobre sus hombros. Buaj, somos los propios tontos de Dios. Sus alas eran las nubes atravesadas por la luz de la tormenta, oscuridad sobre luz sobre oscuridad, y donde se movían vi un mundo más allá de mi entendimiento, presenciado a través de un resplandor como de horno.
Vi una bandada de estrellas acercarse a su alrededor, y parecía adorarlas y mimarlas como un cazador a sus sabuesos favoritos, y me habría desmayado si no me hubiera quedado helado de terror. Porque no eran motas y ascuas lejanas en el cielo, consuelo y guía de un marinero, sino cada una un infierno arrancado del Cielo; torvos centinelas a los que no se podía ocultar ningún secreto. Luces tan terribles harían que los fuegos terrenales de Nabucodonosor parecieran triviales.
Las palabras son carne y bebida para mí, pero estoy contando esto tan mal que debería avergonzarme y no volver a levantar una pluma. Aun así, no importa porque ¿quién lo leerá? Cuando termine, guardaré este escrito y no pensaré en él. Contando esto me ganaré un poco de paz.
Había estado en silencio, pero ahora lloré, y reí, y supliqué la misericordia de Dios, y el ángel me miró. mSobre la coraza reluciente El Creador había colocado una máscara de pergamino fino y sin mancha que parecía un rostro amable, frente al fuego sagrado. De hecho, era una linterna bondadosa de una compasión tan ilimitada que caí de rodillas e intenté arrastrarme hasta el fuego, para poder sentir su perdón. Entonces sonrió (como nunca podría hacerlo una máscara), y todos mis confusos pensamientos se desenredaron y me sentí simultáneamente un bebé, un tonto, expuesto y protegido. Bajo esta atención suave e indulgente me desmayé, sólo para despertar en mi alojamiento, vestido, pero no cansado, incapaz de recordar cómo había llegado hasta allí.
#hashytag good omens#they aren’t wheels they’re parhelia#unofficial Appear Unto#Now with added Spanish
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I can't help it I'm giving y'all more of the heroes au
Makoto and Haru study at the same school! Makoto is a very studious law student, glasses, collared shirts and crew neck sweaters, the full nerdy look. Haru is a business major, appears to be all kindness and smiles, wearing bright colours and fluffy clothes
Queen is a total punk. Loud, follows her truth, doesn't back down. Her main suit is dark blue, based on her dad's old one from his time as a Prime Age hero (spandex, bleh). To modernize it and give it a spin more towards her tastes, she wears big, spiked combat boots, dark sliced up jeans, double studded belts, fingerless gloves, a choker, and of course, a leather jacket. Her mask is metal and the top is spiked upwards like a crown. Her jacket has a lesbian flag patch on the front, near the breast pocket! She's known for being a lady-killer during interviews
Noire is teasing smiles, flirty words laced with distraction, slipping past through the night. Her signature is the dark hat she wears with the indigo feather. At each scene she visited as a vigilante, a perfumed feather would be left behind. The light pink collared shirt, the tall purple gloves, her indigo slacks and maroon boots, they all scream musketeer. Her purple lipstick is another icon of her appearance, under the standard black domino mask she wears.
(Queen becomes accustomed to trying to wipe said lipstick off of herself before reuniting with her team)
Makoto and Sae have a stilted relationship. Sae blames the Iron Will power for their father's death, and resents Makoto for "choosing it over her, just like dad"
Haru has a hideout! It's an attic above the barely used arts building at the University. Since it's more of an academics based school, no one really spends too long there. The garden on the roof above the attic gave Haru the perfect excuse to visit, however
Okay some power notes for everyone
Joker has his Wildcard deck. It's a 52 card deck of 52 different powers! He received them from a higher spirit (Lavenza) who chose him to be her chosen hero, bestowing unto him her deck of powers and. A companion. [psst that's Morgana]. The deck resides in a pocket dimension unless he calls upon it, and with practice he's able to pull just one card rather than the deck, making it easier to just draw his random power
Ryuji was struck by lightning. Yup that's it. Now he's like a walking static charge! His hair stands on end from his natural charge, and now (with practice) he can hold back from shocking people randomly. He finds it best to use a metal bat to channel his power
Ann is rather hot (pun intended!), thanks to her flames. It's an inherited power, it skipped a generation. Her grandfather was a hero back in Europe! Her pigtails end in flames when her power is active, and she can form flames in her hands, though she's working on mastering control over the temperature and shit
Yusuke is from the 1800's, he was frozen and thawed in this age and he's. Still a bit odd. His body temperature is always lower, and the frost tends to crawl from his touch
Futaba can speak with machines, like when she touches them she "hears" what they're all about. That's all I have to say she's a nerd. Her mom had the same thing lmao
The Niijima Iron Will is, well, manifesting strong metal around themselves. Makoto tends to pull forth metal fisticuffs, aka brass knuckles, for punches and shit, though she can also bring up personal shields and minor bits of armour
And Haru!! She has the classic Psychic stuff. Telekinesis and all that. An unofficial power of hers is being really good at flustering miss Queen wink wink
TALK TO ME ABOUT THIS I WANT TO TALK ABOUT TJIS PLEASE
#persona 5 hero au#persona 5 au#makoharu#makoto niijima#haru okumura#okujima#ann takamaki#ryuji sakamoto#p5 joker#futaba sakura#yusuke kitagawa
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Cards entrusted. Part 1:
Darkness. Yuya woke up to see clouds of darkness surrounding him, spreading out in every direction. “Huh. This place is new” he said to no one in particular.
“My apologies”. Yuya was startled by a voice suddenly appearing from behind him he turned around, and saw-
“Zarc. Nice if you to finally drop by!” Yuya was honestly still a little terrified of his original form, but he tried his best to hide it. After all, the poor duelist had already suffered more than enough. Yuya didn’t need to add to that.
“Zarc. Hearing that name, it brings me such pain. The name of a monster. It’s been years since I heard my real name. The only one left who knew it was professor Akaba, and to him… to him, and so many others, and even to myself, I’ll never be anything more than the monster I became”.
“Well… I don’t think you’re just a monster, Zachary.”
Zarc- no Zachary- but did he even deserve such a name, with the suffering he had caused? Did he deserve to be treated as anything other than a terrible monster? He was shocked, how could this child, this poor child, who he caused such torment, how could there still be kindness in his heart for a monster such as he? Finally, Zarc spoke. “Thank you, Yuya. Though I doubt I deserve it, your act of simple kindness means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
“So, what’s going on here? I’m guessing you didn’t show up without reason. You’ve been a hard duelist to track down, Y’know.”
“Yes. That is… by design. It would be utter foolishness to think I would be welcome in your conscious mind, with others to whom I brought such pain. No, a lifetime of oblivion is a fitting punishment for my crimes. However… I still wish to help you. You are a remarkable duelist. You have the potential to be the great dueltainer I never was. But first, I must be sure you can never fall as I did. I would like to show you something.”
“A memory.”
“Yes. I would deign to reveal unto you the story of my life, so that you may never make the same mistakes I did. Please. Observe.”
Zachary stood in the hall of an orphanage. Yuya had seen pieces of this memory before, but with no one to guide him, he had never been able to truly understand what was happening. Now he saw everything, exactly as Zachary had.
“Now! By normal summoning a performapal, I can summon performapal helpeincess from my hand. Next, I use hip hippo’s effect! It lets me tribute summon a level seven or higher monster in addition to my normal summon. Now rise! Odd-eyes dragon!”
“He’s certainly full of energy. What do you think, love?”
Zachary hadn’t known it at the time, but looking back through his eyes, Yuya knew who these people were. They were Zachary’s fathers. This was the day they met.
Several months later, Zachary was dueling against his papa. He controlled performapal salutiger and helprincess, while his papa controlled an xyz monster dressed in the robes of a samurai, with flowing black hair wielding a single-edged sword. “Now! I overlay my two monsters to call upon the most dangerous of dragons! Rise up! Dark rebellion xyz dragon!”
Years later. Zachary was signing up for his first unofficial tournament, at one of the first arenas to incorporate solid vision technology. The man at the counter spoke to him. “This tournament is fully anonymous, so we won’t be using names. Just write down your first initial and the first three letters of your last name, and we’ll be able to find you when your duel starts”. Zachary complied, writing the required information on the given form: Z-Arc.
Zachary’s first championship match. He had clear wing and starving venom on the field. He drew. “I activate monster reborn, to bring dark rebellion xyz dragon back from the brink of oblivion! But it won’t be staying around for long- I tribute it, along with its brethren, to bring forth a revolutionary new monster! Shining silver dragon of dichromatic eyes! Come forth, and bring with you my victory!”
Yuya spoke for the first time throughout this journey. “That monster-“
“Yes”. A voice from behind him again. “That was the true form of our most powerful monster, before I corrupted it with my own pain. This was the potential I squandered. I put my everything into pleasing the crowd, to the extent that I neglected my own joy. But when the pendulum swings one way, it must eventually swings the other. I pushed myself so far, I had nothing left to do but fall, fall into pain and loathing and anger and selfishness. Do not repeat my mistakes, Yuya. Please. Duel for others, yes, but never forget to duel for yourself.”
Yuya woke up, in his real bed this time, at home in the pendulum dimension. He wondered. He got up, and snuck carefully towards his nightstand so as not to disturb the dog sleeping at the foot of his bed. He unlocked the topmost drawer, and looked inside. “What in the world are you doing in that drawer, Yuya?” Came the voice of Yuri from inside his head. So the others were awake.
“Just checking something. You don’t need to worry. None of us do, I think”. He pulled from the drawer it’s sole occupant, a single card. As he expected, it had changed.
“Huh,” the voice of Yuto echoed in his head. “Odd-eyes Revolution Dragon”.
“That’s certainly different from when we locked it in there.” Yugo. So they were all here.
“It certainly is” said Yuri.
“But in a good way” came Yuto’s voice.
“Yeah,” Yuya agreed, “definitely good.” A pause. “I promise, Zachary. I’ll make you proud”
#Yu-Gi-Oh Arc-V#writing#fanfic#yuya sakaki#yuri arc v#yuto arc v#yugo arc v#zarc arc v#cards entrusted#arc v
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DIIANAS: A (NOT SO) VERY BRIEF HISTORY, BY P.A.I. TOMO
I was convinced to do this via bribery. I am weak to seafood, and was taken advantage of.
Hello; I am Philip Agro Isolde Tomo, first child of Thomas Makoto Tomo and Alicia Tomo (maiden name Kruggermann), and am No. VII of The Coven, Title: 'Windborne Soul'. Born April 7th, 2005 AMV.
I am a HoSa; a Homo Sapien, an evolution of sorts of Humanity, us not having Humanity's hatred and fear, this race having exited to this date, ever since we were named 2026 years prior.
Regardless, I must write this as a response to a certain thing that happened... to begin:
The Beginning:
Imagine, if you would, the year 22110982 AD. Another war is being waged, with a small camp in The Ashlands* holding an important figurehead: Jacobian Kuuon Tomo, or Jacob Tomo, an Alchemist.
(*The Ashlands is a huge, vast 'desert' of pure white ash. Ash of what and who? Too much.)
The qar comes to an abrupt end when magic is forever returned unto one Deity in particular: Llizel, the Ancient Deity of Peace.
As an aside: 'Ancient' does not mean age; the planet of Antiqitus, orbiting Earth, had this name given as the name was translated into common languages. It means, if I recall correctly, something to do with strength.
As an additional aside, Ancient Deities have Domains; in basic terms, what they are the Deities of. The most common only have one, such as Llizel; some, like Quinstrial, is the Deity of Slaughter and Salavation. And, of course, the Deity of Prosperity, Ingenuity and Peace, Diffiniwich-Zdravomislyie. Or, better known simply as Pïïp.
I have strayed from the original topic. To return:
Magic varnished, and Jacob Tomo (who, yes, I am related to, Tomo isn't that common of a surname) helped usher in a new age, that relied on technology. Taking on the calander of AMV (After Magic Vanished), Diianas was constructed in the Frozen North, deep in a tundra.
Mountains, including the grand Mt. Guuntr, surround the now highly advanced Major City of Diianas, blocking out most, if not all of, the sun, leading to most Diianish peoples thin and unhealthy looking, even if they are strong.
Such a lack of light also sparked the creation of The Luz. More on that later.
The City Itself & The Tomo Mansion:
The motto of the city is as such:
'Strive not for Hatred,
Strive not for Malice,
Strive not, above all else, for Chaos in our time;
Strive now for Order,
Strive now for Harmony,
Strive now above all else for Peace in our time;
Death unto The Guilty!
Death to The Hateful!
Death to those whom challenge Llizel!'
It certainly makes a sentence.
As one belonging to the Tomo family, I reside inside of the Tomo Mansion; if one was to look at Diianas head on, you would see four cliffs jutting out towards it; the mansion is on the right-side, behind the initial one.
It has a gothic architecture, and was constructed in 3 AMV by Jacob. Since then, the Tomos have stayed here, each head adding something new.
As additional information: The Tomo family has odd genetics, including a long life span and slow ageing; for example, Connor Tomo, despite being 500 years old, appears as a 50 year old man.
As for the City, here are landmarks:
Tao's Bridge: A long bridge, similar in style to one found in the ancient city of Vience, offering a grand sight to Diianas, The River Jessica that flows through it, and The Luz.
The Luz: A giant spire that is in the heart of the city. It creates light for people in the city, a gentle warmth that helps us not be cave dwellers.
The Ark: The giant auditorium holding the meetings of The Coven.
Which leads to the next section:
Groups:
The Coven: The group I am a part of, the 'unofficial official government'. Diianas does not have an official one, with people being trusted to not fall to human hatred. Housing numerous individuals, our discussions are mostly similar to that of a podcast, with many senses of humour coming together. Its founder is Dynol Cyn, a centuries old android.
I believe that is all? I need to get to my date with my wife; ciao!
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Super mario odyssey very nice shot
Super mario odyssey very nice shot how to#
Continued abuse of our services will cause your IP address to be blocked indefinitely. Please fill out the CAPTCHA below and then click the button to indicate that you agree to these terms. I have beaten the main story and I am also coming really close to collecting all of the power moons that the game has to offer. If you wish to be unblocked, you must agree that you will take immediate steps to rectify this issue. Super Mario Odyssey has been out in the wild for about two weeks now. Super Mario Odyssey : Very Nice Shot with the Chain Chomp Moon Location 159,647 views Where to find the very nice shot with the chain chomp moon 15 in Cascade Kingdom in Super Mario. If you do not understand what is causing this behavior, please contact us here. If you promise to stop (by clicking the Agree button below), we'll unblock your connection for now, but we will immediately re-block it if we detect additional bad behavior. The kingdom is also known for having no friendly NPCs and locals in the area. The kingdom features a pre-historic landscape filled with dinosaurs and massive waterfalls. Overusing our search engine with a very large number of searches in a very short amount of time The Cascade Kingdom is the second kingdom you’ll come across in Super Mario Odyssey.Using a badly configured (or badly written) browser add-on for blocking content.Running a "scraper" or "downloader" program that either does not identify itself or uses fake headers to elude detection.This Power Moon is located in Quadrant B2, in a challenge room West of the. Using a script or add-on that scans GameFAQs for box and screen images (such as an emulator front-end), while overloading our search engine The Cascade Kingdom Power Moon 15 - Very Nice Shot with the Chain Chomp is one of the Power Moons in the Cascade Kingdom.There is no official GameFAQs app, and we do not support nor have any contact with the makers of these unofficial apps. Continued use of these apps may cause your IP to be blocked indefinitely. This triggers our anti-spambot measures, which are designed to stop automated systems from flooding the site with traffic. Some unofficial phone apps appear to be using GameFAQs as a back-end, but they do not behave like a real web browser does.I never really grew up with the Mario games, I always knew about their existence, but haven't played them. It's the time where I'm catching up with older, really popular games that I missed out on, because lately, I feel like there aren't many incredibly memorable games being released. Using GameFAQs regularly with these browsers can cause temporary and even permanent IP blocks due to these additional requests. Very Nice Shot with the Chain Chomp (see location 14): In the same area as Power Moon number 14, when you reach the area's main Power Moon, keep walking to the right (as close to the camera. Super Mario Odyssey is the best game I have ever played. If you are using Maxthon or Brave as a browser, or have installed the Ghostery add-on, you should know that these programs send extra traffic to our servers for every page on the site that you browse.The most common causes of this issue are: They seem to change from game to game in a way that, thus far, we can’t. Mario Kart items do this too, along with Links sail cloth in BotW.A good, solid animation trick.There. Super Mario Odyssey’s warp paintings are incredibly confusing. This is how Nintendo makes things appear constantly. Mario has become unto a god, and he can take over your body if he so pleases.Your IP address has been temporarily blocked due to a large number of HTTP requests. Very Nice Shot with the Chain Chomp Grid View. Mario seems pretty freaked out about this, but eventually he gets used to it, as the trailer later shows him inhabit a Goomba, a Cheep Cheep, a Chain Chomp, a Bullet Bill, a Hammer Bro a realistic dinosaur, and a freaking human being that was just walking down a city street. Cappy is a hat that can magically possess everything from non-living objects to living characters. Mario is sucked into some sort of vortex as he possesses the poor amphibian, taking over its body. The core innovation of Super Mario Odyssey is Mario’s companion, Cappy. It’s when Mario throws his sentient hat at a frog - a living creature with wants and feelings - that things go off the rails. That’s all well and good though, since we knew that ever since we saw Mario visit a realistic New York City stand-in back in January. The trailer, which closed out the presentation is set to a jaunty tune and showed off a couple new worlds with extremely cool and different art styles than the normal Mario fare.
Super mario odyssey very nice shot how to#
During Nintendo’s E3 presentation, the company revealed the hotly anticipated Switch game’s release date and let the world know that Mario can straight-up take over people’s bodies. Cascade Kingdom Moon 15 Very Nice Shot Chomp Location Super Mario OdysseyThis video shows how to find Moon 15: Very Nice Shot Chomp in the Cascade Kingdo. Super Mario Odyssey is going to be even more buck wild than we thought.
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friction
work on ao3
pairing: jet/f reader
warnings: smut, arguing
wordcount: 1873
a/n: im srry but i needed to get this Out of my brain. characters are 18+
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It was just at the crack of dusk and you were tidying up the room you shared with Jet in the freedom fighters’ scattered treehouse. You were Jet’s age, the two of you barely functioning adults, stubborn, opinionated, and to Jet, devastatingly alluring. He loved the clashing of your personalities, the way you so often disagreed with him and kept him on his toes. He loved his absolute authority in the group, but more than that, he loved a pretty girl deliberately challenging it.
You didn’t mind the arguments as much as you maybe should have. You saw through manipulation like sunlight through a clean window - clearly, immediately, and without doubt. Jet knew better than to mess with your head. And you knew he had a real soft spot for you - despite how much he’d try to hide it around others. You really liked him, even if he was a real pain in the ass sometimes.
Today was one of many designated days Jet and his favorite group of fighters would scout your woods and the neighboring areas. They would come back with food, that they stole, hunted, or plucked from wild plants, or with news about strangers arriving in the area and discussion of whether or not they were a threat. Jet would often return late, having taken it upon himself to do one last sweep of your unofficial territory. Normally you would join him, but you had stayed back to help the younger orphans patch up their clothes or whatever toys they managed to keep.
You carefully put your sewing kit back together, counting all the needles and neatly winding the thread. You closed the small wooden box and noticed a figure appear in your peripherals.
“Hey, baby.” You heard Jet say and you turned to see him leaning in your makeshift doorway, curtain draped behind him.
You went to embrace him and his hands came to rest on your waist. “Any good finds today?” You asked.
“Yeah, Longshot got a nice rabbit. Shot it right in the eye.” Jet pointed to his eye and you made a face. You hated killing animals, but their meat was good food and their fur provided material for blankets and clothes. Jet’s ever present smirk widened teasingly at your reaction. “He’s preparing it with Smellerbee. We’ll have a good breakfast tomorrow. Plus, I got you something.”
You looked at him curiously and he pulled out a glittery silver chain from the pouch hanging on his hip. Hung from it was a round, honey-orange stone with a simple lily carved into its surface, similar to the pai sho tile. “Oooh,” You cooed, taking the necklace into your hands and feeling the smooth stone. “It’s beautiful. Where’d you get this?” You contemplated the material of the stone. Was it amber? Carnelian?
Jet stiffened and said nothing. He found it hard to lie to you. Of course.
“You didn’t jump another innocent person did you?” You asked, desperate for him to say no.
His brows furrowed.
“Jet!” You scolded and he snatched the jewelry from your grasp.
“Smellerbee was right. Shouldn’t have given it to you.” He said bitterly, shouldering past you into the room.
“You can’t keep doing that to people! Did you take all their money and food again? Did you at least let them go without beating them senseless?” You prodded. Your anger boiled in your voice, remembering all the times he returned with food stolen from nomads and the other times that ended in violent confrontation.
“I don’t know why you have to get so upset! They could have been a Fire Nation spy for all you know!” Jet shot back, arms raised.
“Not everyone is a fucking Fire Nation spy, Jet!”
“Yeah, because you would totally know one if you saw one. I very clearly remember having to save your ass after getting kidnapped by a soldier!” He stepped closer, towering over you.
You, however, would not back down. “That doesn’t mean you need to beat up and rob every stranger you see! What is wrong with you?”
“I am trying to protect these kids!” Jet shouted, nostrils flaring.
You were red with anger from his lack of empathy. “At the expense of literally everyone else?” You hollered back.
Suddenly, Jet grabbed your face and smashed his lips to yours. Your fingers knotted into his dark hair. It wasn’t uncommon for your arguments to end like this. It was your way of forgiving one another.
Jet pulled away, teeth pinching your bottom lip and pulling. “You’re the worst.” You groaned and Jet pushed you down to the bed.
“You’re so god damn annoying.” He responded as his lips chased yours and he pulled you in for another searing kiss.
His hands wandered down your backside, grabbing your ass and kneading the soft flesh. You hissed against his lips, hands fumbling with the closure on his pants and untucking his shirt. His tongue lined your mouth, making you shiver as you pushed the makeshift armor from his clothes. He gave your ass a hard smack and you yelped in surprise.
“Why does everything have to be a problem with you?” Jet gruffed against your lips.
“You cause problems, Jet!”
He growled into your jaw and pushed you unto your back. He pushed your knees apart so he could press himself close to you, hips digging into yours. You groaned, tugging on his hair as his lips traced your jaw. His teeth dug into your neck in a hard bite and sucked at your skin, only moving along once he saw deep purple gathering in the indents of his teeth. You squirmed when he found your soft spot, thighs rubbing uncomfortably against his sides and you rolled your hips back against his. Jet was relentless, marking up your neck and collarbones and you impatiently tugged at his shirt and whined.
Jet leaned back on his heels and discarded his shirt and wrist wrappings. You pulled your own shirt over your head and rid of the binder confining your breasts and Jet was upon you once again. He palmed your breasts and his lips trailed down your body. He tugged at your pants and you heard the button snap off.
“You need to stop fucking tearing my clothes!” You seethed.
Jet responded by silencing you with a harsh kiss. He pulled again at your pants and you pushed them down along with your underwear as far as your position would allow. Jet sat up and tore the rest of your clothes from your body and began to make work of his own. You watched him, taking in the lean muscles that rippled under his golden brown skin.
Jet grabbed you under your knees and tugged you forward before taking his erection in his hand and rubbing it across the wetness along your folds. You keened, bucking your hips for more attention and Jet smirked down at you.
“You want it, baby?” He asked, voice husky with lust.
You nodded, grasping his shoulders.
“Beg for it.” Jet commanded.
You groaned. “No.”
Jet growled, smacking your thigh. “Beg or I won’t let you cum for the rest of the month.”
You scoffed at him. “I don’t need you to do that.”
Jet grabbed your face in one hand and pressed his lips back yours in an angry kiss, teeth clashing. He rubbed the tip of his dick slowly against your clit, making your hips roll. “Beg for it.”
“Sounds more like you’re that one that’s begging.” You panted.
Jet grunted in frustration and conceded, slamming into you with one swift thrust of his hips. You mewled loudly and clawed at his shoulders. He gave you no time to catch your breath and held you down by your throat, setting a bruising pace that left your eyes rolling. You hiked your thighs high on his torso and dug your heels into his back.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Jet moaned. He grabbed under your knee and pressed your thigh next to your chest, allowing him to fuck you deeper. You squirmed under his constraint, whining helplessly as that knot built in your belly. You reached down to rub your aching clit, but Jet caught your wrist. “Nah-uh, baby girl. You’re gonna have to get off on just my dick.”
You had no response, the fast pace of his hips making any words you could form catch in your throat. You clenched around him and raked your nails down his back, digging as hard as you could into his skin and eliciting a groan.
Jet suddenly pulled out and spanked you. “On your stomach, baby.”
You rolled over and Jet quickly possessed your hips, pushing back into you without hesitation. If he was brutal before, now he was just ruthless. “Oh fuck!” You cried, moaning into your pillow.
Jet gathered your wrists against your back and plowed into you. Tears brimmed at your eyes with how good he was making you feel and you pressed your hips back against his thrusts with all the strength that was left in you. You were getting close to your orgasm, that knot winding tighter and tighter as your pussy clenched hard around his cock.
You heard Jet let out a deep moan and that was all it took. You trembled, expletives leaving your mouth as Jet fucked you hard through your orgasm. “Fuck yes, baby girl, cum on my cock.” Jet praised and grabbed your ass with both hands. Your newly freed fists knotted into the sheets as you mewled at the overstimulation, thighs quaking and giving out under you.
“So good,” You cooed, Jet grabbing your shoulder to pull you back against him.
You let him continue to slam into your tender g-spot, loving every second of your drawn-out high. Jet swore and pulled out to release on your back.
You allowed yourself to go limp against the bed and Jet fell unto his back beside you. You tried to catch your breath.
Jet grabbed a scrap of cloth from the nightstand and threw it at you.
You rolled your eyes as you took it. “Don’t be fucking rude.” You grumbled, though your words had little bite.
Jet sighed. You both laid in silence for a few moments and you found your canteen and took a swig water.
Jet put out his hand. "Let me get that."
You secured the cap and answered, "No."
Jet looked at you incredulously. You stared back and he began to move toward you. You hid the canteen behind you. "Y/N!" He scolded and you giggled as he grasped at it and you held it from his reach.
"Say you'll stop jumping people for no reason." You insisted.
"Baby girl, I can't promise you anything." He swung at your hand, but you managed to keep him from grabbing it.
You frowned at him. He got a hold of your wrist and despite your protests, he took the canteen. "Dick." You pouted.
Jet took a healthy gulp of water and said, "Y'know, all we did was search him and take that pendant. We didn't hurt him."
"Still shouldn't have taken it."
Jet swung an arm around you and pulled you in to kiss your forehead. "Whatever, baby."
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I felt like exploring magtok HCs, and ended up writing this little scene/ficlet. Let me know what you guys think :D
Summary: A short scene where Magnus and Toki get out of a messy scuffle.
Rating: T for swearing, violence and reference to blood and injury
Pairing: Magnus and Toki
Magnus remembered the pit. Heck, he had told Toki more than his fair share of stories of when he dabbled in other scenes, and partook in crazed rituals that left him sore, bloody and bruised the morning after. The lights. The sweat. The energy. The late-night train rides and sneaking into tight alleys leading out of the high street and to shanty basement dwellings that pulsed bass and drum beats. The incredible sound of punk rock blasting up close, lyricists giving the orders to the crowds to unleash their bridled rage and scare away the casual listeners and tourists looking to get a taste of the underground scene. Stomping. Yelling. Heads banging, leather belts and cheap metal chain links swaying in tandem to a rapid, unforgiving beat. Boots slipping on booze or loose pins, and nostrils taking in the thick, dangerous atmosphere. His hand forming a tight, hot fist that flung into the steamy hot air, across the angry rowdy crowds or, if it came to it, straight into someone’s jaw.
Perhaps it was his enthusiasm, those nostalgic tales where he was younger and the hero of his own tale that lead to Toki inviting him closer to the stage, into the raging swell of drugged and drunken thrill seekers. And though Magnus entered the compacted club already so overwhelmed by the flashing red stage lights, bodies fighting at the door, for a seat or spot at the bar, and music amplified to its max, when Toki asked him to join him in the mosh pit, Magnus happily obliged.
Somehow, he forgot the pain, and it wasn’t until he was too far deep, lost in an entanglement of dangerous bodies that crashed and slammed into his older, frailer self, did Magnus finally recall the wet snap of a broken nose, the icy-hot sting of cracked, torn knuckles, and the agonizing, nauseating migraine that almost always arose after taking several blows to the face the following morning. The first rough bump startled him, but he thought he could regain a better sense once he had his footing. An elbow to his side hindered a chance for recovery, and someone shoving him into a bystander, heads colliding, made things worse. Magnus was still on his hands and knees when someone pulled him up and decked him in the cheek. No time to explain himself, just a fist bashing into the side of his head. The booming of the music throbbed along with the blurring vision, and as he stumbled back, heard Toki’s vicious war cry.
They put up a good fight. He did as well as an old bastard could, tagging himself free of any responsibility shortly after a nasty ringed fist to his mouth earned an unsatisfying snap from within. After that, Magnus let Toki finish the job, and pondered the extent of his damage, and when exactly he became too old for this sort of thing before blacking out.
He regained consciousness a few minutes later. They were in a gated alleyway right outside of the club. Toki helped him lean against the wall before making a turn for his phone. Magnus rubbed his aching temples, listening to Toki’s short call and learning they’d have a ride in just a few minutes.
“Wowee, that was something,” he said through a stuffy nose. He picked up on how odd he sounded and, through teary eyes, pressed his finger against his nostril and snorted out a ball of congealed blood and mucus. Lovely.
Both stared at the fat glob, giving it an appropriate moment of silence out of respect for its size and composure.
“Thanks for your help,” Magnus mentioned once it had passed, then gently applied pressure around his nose with his forefinger. He was hot to the touch, and the skin was swelling tight and thin, but it didn’t appear that his nose was broken. Thank goodness. Magnus wasn’t sure if he could afford another tooth on top of a broken nose. “You really saved my ass back there.”
“No problems.” Another forced snort, and then Toki regained his posture. “We makes a good teams.”
“Yeah, we do.”
Magnus licked his gums, then tracing a trail of blood up to the pooling hole where a tooth once lay. The location was far enough where it wouldn’t impact any new impressions, but was it far enough to stave off an expensive visit for a few months?
Thankfully, the alcohol impeded any further concern for money. A hand picked him up by the chin, and as Magnus shirked away at the slightest change of pressure, fell into a brief state of comfort at the sight of Toki’s welcoming smile.
Half his face was covered in drying blood or clots, and what wasn’t had hair sticking to it, adhered to with old sweat. Toki was red and blotchy, some parts still carrying monikers of where rings made impact. Magnus was positive Toki’s left forearm was bruised in several places, with his bicep already speckled unevenly with purple and blue. There was a bit of blood here and there, but most of it was seeping through his left nostril. Otherwise, Toki was in decent shape. He was a mess, but he survived. He did well. Better than Magnus, and he looked good doing it. Hell, bloody cheeks and snot be damned, Toki still looked good.
“You. Uhm… it was pretty hot when you kicked that guy in the nuts,” he mentioned as Toki reached to help pull him off from the wall.
“Thanks.” Toki squeezed Magnus’ arms. Then, another smile, and this time Magnus made out a bloody, cracked tooth barely holding on to the gums.
“Holy shit, Toke.” Magnus grabbed Toki and squinted his good eye to better assess the damage. “Your tooth…”
Second tooth from the front, where everyone could see. Cracked down the middle, and pushed outwards from a hemorrhaging socket. If they hurried and put it on ice, then a dentist might be able to save the tooth.
“I think your tooth is about to fall out,” Magnus stated, his slightly grim expression shifting from Toki’s shrinking grin to his confused, periwinkles eyes.
“Oh, dats all?” Toki asked back, then put his hand to his mouth. With the precision expected from a drunk, he reached into his mouth, prodded the tooth with the blunt end of his finger. The whimpers Toki’s coughed out send a nasty chill down Magnus’ back.
“Toki!” Magnus shook his head as Toki performed a pained dance in front of him. “Are you seriously trying to yank your own tooth out?”
“Yeah?”
“And lose the whole tooth?”
“Ams not a problems,” Toki said gently and with a slight lisp. “Charles gives Toki and Dethklok the best plan on accounts of all the accidentals we gets into.”
He sniffed, then wiped some of the many tears flowing down his cheeks with his shirt. Carefully, and barely patting the side with the now ailing loose tooth.
“You knows” he added, waving a pointed finger at Magnus. “You ams also on the same plans now.”
Toki noticed the missing tooth? Maybe the gape wasn’t as deep as Magnus hoped, but the promising news of a dental plan immediately grabbed his attention. He recalled the many documents Offdensen made him sign a few weeks ago to effectively be considered an “unofficial” member of Dethklok incorporated. He knew a certain amount of Toki’s insurances and privileges were extended unto him, though to what degree was still being unraveled. Of the many pamphlets sent to him the following week, were any for dental plans?
Suddenly Toki’s phone went off. The klokateers were here, ready to pick them up. A hand sticky with blood took Magnus the hand.
“Was thinking. Maybe we can gets new teeth togethers,” Toki suggested. His bloody, swollen face attempted what Magnus thought was a smile. His double-vision brought on by the migraine made it difficult to tell. But he was sure Toki just invited him on a date to see a dentist, and whether Magnus could afford it or not, his boyfriend was a billionaire.
“Yeah?” he said, trying to snicker and appear as casual about the invitation as he could. But the pulsing in his head made it difficult to stand straight, and his right eye shed some tears as a car flashed light in their general direction. He winced, but once the pain leveled, and Toki coaxed him into blindly following him though the smokers, around the gated area and back into the quiet comforts of their limo, Magnus muttered that he’d rearrange his calendar.
“Thinks you can makes room for tomorrows?” Toki whispered into Magnus’ crown just before the gear readied a syringe loaded with delicious morphine.
Eyes closed, Magnus brushed his bruised cheek against Toki’s shoulder. “Sure.”
The needle hadn’t yet gone in when Toki placed a soft kiss on top of Magnus’ aching head. He did his best to appreciate it, but the pain proved itself too much.
“Ow.”
A nervous chuckle. “Sorries.”
#magnus hammersmith#toki wartooth#magtok#hammertooth#metalocalypse#blood#swearing#unbeta'd#will fix mistakes later
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Packless Monsters
TITLE: Packless Monsters
CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 80/?
AUTHOR: nekoamamori
ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a werewolf who ends up in the company of Loki in the Avenger’s tower after saving Pepper’s life
RATING: M
NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here
You finally got out of the car and steeled your spine to enter the place where you’d been born and spent the first 18 years of your life. The guard at the door let you in with a respectful bowing of his head. His head bowed lower when he scented exactly who you and Loki were. You were both deserving of respect among the wolves. Loki was an alpha and an extremely powerful alpha at that, moreso now that he was a proper werewolf and had shifted instead of using Asgardian magic to change form. It had boosted his werewolf abilities and strength when he’d given in to the wolf in that moment.
While Loki was a strong alpha who deserved respect for his status, you were a prized omega, and this group of werewolves seemed to have finally learned what that meant. You weren’t at the bottom of the pecking order, a submissive who had to be beaten into submissive, but you were out of the pecking order, a law unto yourself. The pack needed you as the heart of the pack, the protector of the pack’s emotions, as well as the one person in the pack who could and would stand up to the alpha when he was being particularly stupid.
So you were both well respected for not only your rank, but your deeds as well. You were both Avengers and you had freed this pack from Jareth. They owed you their new more comfortable lives.
You knew things had changed once you got into the compound proper. There was clearly still construction going on, but the whole thing looked less like a jail and more like a community. The walls were still tall to keep outsiders out, but the compound had expanded. There were actual houses now besides the Alpha’s house. There were larger community buildings too, a proper school. You knew from Dan’s plans and consultations that they were turning the old compound into meeting rooms and a place for diplomacy and business. The inside was going to be more family units and for the pack.
As soon as you entered the inside area of the compound, your brothers came running for you to hug you. Loki stiffened for a moment, an alpha’s protective instincts in regards to males who were outside of his pack coming toward you. He relaxed when he recognized who they were and didn’t fault your brothers for wanting to hug you. He even stepped back so they could see that they weren’t in any danger. Not that they really cared, they were going to hug you regardless.
Dan hugged you first, lifting you and spinning you in a circle, making you laugh at his antics. He was doing just fine now that he was alpha, now that things in the pack were so much better. “I missed you,” he told you as he swung you and held you too tightly.
“I’ve missed you guys too,” you said and hugged Ethan next. He’d grown since you last saw him, but you couldn’t help ruffling his hair anyway. “How’s things been going here?” You asked, genuinely curious as to how they were faring.
“They’re great!” Ethan enthused and they babbled at you about the improvements they’d been making together. Ethan had been advising Dan in an unofficial capacity, since he was still a kid. Luckily, your mother was nowhere to be seen yet. You would let her attend the ceremony, but had no interest in actually seeing her.
Your brothers tried to pull you away from Loki to get ready for the ceremony. For some strange reason, Loki took offense at that behavior and growled at them, his fangs flashing. You realized that he was more overprotective than usual here. He didn’t trust the wolves with your safety.
Especially on the day of the full moon. You saw the flush in Ethan’s cheeks. Dan, as an alpha had more immunity to the moon’s pull now. You only weren’t affected because of the potion Frigga gave you. The rest of the wolves were going to be pulling through for the sake of your wedding. Usually weddings weren’t performed on the day of the full moon, but it was the best you could do with all the ceremonies that needed performed and the order they had to be performed in.
Luckily, Samual and Fenrir both chose that moment to enter the courtyard. Fenrir was the alpha of all the alphas, so they all turned to him, even Loki turned his attention away from Dan and Ethan to look at the other alphas. “Loki, good to see you again!” Fenrir greeted him warmly and moved to hug the god with no qualms or fears of getting stabbed. They knew each other from way back in the Viking days, though, so it was no surprise that Fenrir didn’t fear getting stabbed by Loki.
“And you, old friend,” Loki replied, though still cast a wary look at Dan and Ethan.
Fenrir laughed and his relaxed tone and laughter eased Loki’s anxiety a little. “Your omega is perfectly safe with her brothers. Rachel is waiting up at the house for her to help her get ready for the ceremony. Samual and I will be going over your part with you while the girls pretty up,” Fenrir explained to him.
Loki nodded and relaxed at that. He stole a kiss before he let you get dragged off by your brothers to get ready. You chatted with them and caught up with them on the goings on in the pack. “Selena and her daughter still living with you two?” Selena was an omega Dan had let move in with him to make her feel safe with her daughter Tamara. Selena’s husband had died and you had a feeling Dan had a crush on her.
Dan blushed and nodded “Yes, and they’re doing well with us. Tamara is adorable,” he said. He was too carefully trying to keep to facts.
“You like her,” you teased him.
His blush only deepened, creeping up to his ears and down his neck. “I-I never said that,” he spluttered. “Besides, her husband just died recently. I don’t think she’s ready to move on yet,”
You gave him a gentle smile. “I won’t tell her,” you promised. “Perhaps in time…”
“I won’t pressure her. She’s a member of my pack and she’s safe with me,” Dan said firmly. You knew that was how Dan felt, which is why you chose him to be Alpha. He didn’t care about the power for himself, but to protect those under him.
“I know you won’t,” you told him, and vowed to yourself to determine for yourself if she might be interested in your brother. He wouldn’t act unless he was sure and you’d be able to tell him one way or the other.
You were hugged by Selena and Rachel as soon as you entered the house. They were both perky despite the blush to their cheeks. You suspected energy drinks were involved. Or just marriage excitement. They dragged you up to Selena’s room where Tamara was napping in her crib. You, of course, got distracted by the puppy and couldn’t help wonder if you and Loki would ever have puppies someday.
You shook your head to banish that thought from your mind. Today wasn’t the day to think about puppies.
Werewolf marriages were different than human ones. They were much less formal for one thing. So while you dressed nicely, you also dressed more simply. You wore a white spaghetti strap sundress with sandals, the dress only went down to your knees. Your hair was braided and flowers woven throughout. Your makeup was done, but simply, just enough to smooth out any blemishes. This wasn’t a huge formal event, unlike most human weddings, or the royal wedding on Asgard.
Finally, just before noon, you headed out of the house with the girls and your brothers. The entire pack was waiting for you in the courtyard. Fenrir and Loki were in the middle of the circle of wolves waiting for you. You saw your mother in the crowd, though you had no intentions of speaking with her. You let her be here. That was enough. Of course Fenrir was conducting the ceremony. He was your alpha and the alpha of all the alphas. He had the most authority of any wolf in existence.
Loki gave you a wide smile when he saw you. You knew from the look in his eyes that he thought you were as beautiful as ever. He was dressed simply as well in a green button down shirt and black slacks. He was no less sexy for the simple attire. You made your way to him, the circle parting to let you in before it closed again behind you.
You joined your hands, standing before Fenrir, much as you’d joined your hands before Frigga yesterday. “We come together, under the light of the sun to celebrate the union of two of our wolves. They have expressed their love through a formal wedding and now wish for the pack’s and our deities’ blessing,” Fenrir announced. This would be a much shorter ceremony than yesterday’s as well. This was an acknowledgement of your love.
And a bit of werewolf magic.
“Are there any wolves here who would deny this love? Who would deny this Alpha his chosen Omega?” Fenrir asked the crowd. It was formality. No one questioned your love or Loki’s, especially since you were already married. You still caught the sharp look he gave your mother to keep her damn mouth shut for once.
And for once she managed to.
“Then we ask the sun blessing on this union under his fullest light of day.” The ceremony had to be done at noon for that reason. “And we bear witness to the markings of your love and the pledge of your loyalty,”
Unlike previous times when you’d marked Loki with your bite, with your scent, this time you would be marking each other, and this time the marks would be permanent, etched in magic. Traditionally, the marks were placed on the neck near the shoulder. However, things had changed in modern world and with more interaction with the humans. So now the marks went on your wrists instead, where they would appear as tattoos to the humans, thanks to pack magic.
At Fenrir’s nod, you took Loki’s left wrist to lift to your mouth as he was doing with yours. Your fangs extended and you sank them into his wrist carefully. You felt his fangs slide into your wrist at the same moment. Razor sharp pain hit a moment before the pack magic washed over you, before the magic of the bond snapped into place, binding you together forever. When you pulled back, the wounds were completely healed. It looked like a tattoo, even to you, a tribal design that hid the teeth marks and one unique to you and Loki as the black mark swirled and settled into its design.
The wolves around you tilted their heads back to howl at the sun. The first part of the ceremony was over.
The next part would be that evening, under the light of the full moon.
The moon goddess needed to witness your union as well.
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This is Eigengrau, a Satellite City OC that I've had on the backburner for a while. She (and yes, she is a she) was an unofficial Yolshen soldier, but was never particularly well-respected due to not being good at following orders, only being kept around due to her strength. She's a law unto herself essentially, never fighting for a cause, just fighting for the fun of it. On Earth, she used to make money off of her grody appearance, working as a "pig-faced woman" at a circus. These days however, she just sorta bums around and drinks too much. She's not particularly intelligent, but makes up for her stupidity in brute force. She has a mate, the small yet fiercely intelligent Nivali (who I still need to draw), and while it is largely a union of convenience, the two make a dangerous pair (or at least they do when Eigengrau lets poor Nivali keep her head on, as she makes a very nice scarf.)
I'm still working on sketches of her full body, but she has three arms (one arm on left, two on right, essentially the opposite of her eyes), and gross sorta hoof-hands that are very chunky and good for landing punches.
#eigengrau#satellite city#fennah#oc#original character#art#myart#my art#kivouachian#kivouachian oc#satellite city oc
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Day 5: Snowfall, Snowmelt
Compendium Game Route 2019 for @vrainsrarepairweeks
Ship: Kiku/Miyu
Rating: T
Word Count: 1,546
Tags: Alternate Universe – PreCure Inspired
Ash fell around them like snow. It was grey and granular; flecked with flames and embers. It all fell, almost prettily, over the park but beneath the darker coloured clouds which swirled and rumbled, threatening to rain but there was this heat. This heat. It was deathly and agonising. To think, moments early, it had been so pleasantly cold. It sent a shiver down Miyu’s spine as she held onto her precious trinket, the Crystal Heart, in her hand and began to walk towards the epicentre of it all. An inferno burned before their eyes; where their friend once stood.
“Aqua, Aoi... This is my responsibility. I... I’ll deal with this.” Miyu said.
Aoi and Aqua both simpered behind her but Aoi accepted it. Miyu had grown up somewhat from when she was child, she realised. That’s why she was the leader. Unofficially appointed, anyway.
Miyu strode forth and in a burst of colour, so different to the grey and black and red around them, pure and shining and bright, Miyu transformed. Ribbons unfurled around her, only to tightly wrap her up in swimming suit like lyrcra and a tutu and mismatched socks and high heeled boots. All that eye cloyingly bright cyan and she was protected by it all, as scantily clad as it may seem.
She was no longer just Sugisaki Miyu, silly schoolgirl and sports extraordinaire; she was Cure Raindrop, the energetic and refreshing Cure of Water, one of the Emissaries of the Elements.
And she was the only person who could put out this fire because she had started it.
With a flick of her wrist, Miyu generated a barrier of water which protected her as she fazed through the inferno which burned and all the smoke and ash and embers which it produced. Her demeanour was calm but determined as she found her dear friend in the middle of it all; on her knees, clutching her head, bawling.
“Kiku.” Miyu called out.
“Leave me alone.” Kiku spat.
“D’aw, you know me, I can’t do that.” Miyu murmured.
She knelt in front of this girl. And a girl that she didn’t know.
She saw half of Kiku, her friend. White schoolgirl blouse, blue-black hair in a plait which wound around her neck, but she also saw someone else; her foe. Her hands had turned to claws, her arms now looked as though they were clad with lava and her eyes, once a cooled amber were now molten, colouring the whole of her eye, not just her pupil. She didn’t look human, but she still looked like Miyu.
“Get away from me, Raindrop.” Kiku snapped. “I was sent here to kill you. To kill you and Cure Maiden, to kill the Fairy, Aqua, and to rob humanity of ever knowing a peaceful nature ever again.”
“But is such destruction what you want?” Miyu asked.
Kiku looked up at her. For a moment, the golden colour of her eyes turned to white. Tears dribbled down her cheeks, only to turn to steam because her body was so hot. Miyu smiled an almost despairing smile.
“Well? Is it?” she prompted Kiku.
“I am p-proud to be a henchperson of the all glorious Fire.” Kiku spat out a reply but it was obvious that she was lying.
“Were you... No, are you proud to be my friend?” Miyu asked.
Kiku whimpered. She looked up slightly, to meet Miyu’s eyes briefly, only to evade not only Miyu’s kind gaze, but her own feelings as well.
“I was never your friend.” Kiku murmured. “I was sent here on behalf of the Empire of Fire to gain your trust... to betray you...”
Miyu shook her head. She didn’t see it that way. She didn’t feel it that way. Miyu had always been the friendly sort of girl, playing with as many children as she could in parks as a child and even now, a decade on, she was the number one peacekeeper in her high school class. She had earned the title of Class President because of her cheerful and friendly demeanour over someone more practical or book smart. Kiku was not exempt from this warmth that Miyu felt unto those around her.
She had been confused at first, yes, by this girl who had suddenly appeared before her. No information to her aside from her name on the whiteboard behind her and who politely refused to wear the same uniform as every other student in the class and ergo, the whole school. Miyu had been even more confused when this girl began to tail her and found a place to stay with her.
But Miyu had welcomed Kiku into her heart. She had taken her on many adventures, to the mall and to the park and to many more, sometimes skirting secret identities and whatnot because that was just the life of a magical girl. They had spent so many nights together studying or watching movies. There were a few different extremes in their relationship, but it had become a friendship, nonetheless. A very dear and important friendship to Miyu’s heart.
Even Kiku was who she said she was: Kuki of the Fire Empire. The very Kuki who had driven back the combined forces of Cure Raindrop and Cure Maiden to the brink, only to fumble at the last minute and then, mysteriously, disappear whilst her brethren from the Empire continued to wage their war against humanity, as defended by the Pretty Cure duo of Miyu and Aoi.
Although, Miyu was quite certain that her and Aoi’s duo was about to change.
It wasn’t about to become a solo act afforded by Aqua, no, it was going to become a trio. Miyu still had that spare Crystal Heart. The very one that Aqua had been afraid to give her. Miyu’s Crystal Heart was the one which represented Water and it transformed her into Cure Raindrop. Aoi’s Crystal Heart was the one of Wind and transformed her into Cure Maiden. And now, Miyu was certain, that the third Crystal Heart would be accepted by Kiku.
She felt it beyond her heart and beyond her soul, she could feel how right this decision was in the heat around her and in the ground beneath her, in the tears that Kiku cried, and in the gusts which dangled around them in this hidden, ashy place.
Miyu was certain. Her lips tingled. Just like that time when she and Kiku had slept next to one another on different futons but had inched together in the course of night, only to wake and find each other so perfectly irresistible in the dark and in the post dream haze of exhaustions. They hadn’t kissed but Miyu’s heart had pounded so hard and she felt a sensation in her lips which made her wish that they had, rather than breathe so quietly, awkwardly exchanging glances.
“I really like you, Kiku, you’re my friend and I know you think of me as one also. So please, accept me into your heart.” Miyu said and she then drew forth the third Crystal Heart. “Accept this.”
“Oh, Miyu...” Kiku warbled. “I couldn’t. I can’t.”
“You can. I know you can.” Miyu said.
Kiku wiped her eyes and the flames on her skin simpered. She regained control of the illusion which was her body. Save for her ears, now pointed and elfin. Miyu smiled. Kiku took a big breath and hesitantly accepted the Crystal Heart from Miyu.
“You’re like... a living truth detector. I can’t lie to you.” Kiku mumbled. “I like you too. I want, no, I am your friend and I would much rather see the world in peace than in flames.”
“Thank you, Kiku.” Miyu said.
On their knees, both girls hugged. Hugged tight. Miyu all but didn’t want to let go as her very aura cooled Kiku who singed the ground beneath her. But their arms did slip away eventually and Miyu helped Kiku to her feet.
“You can do it. You can use it.” Miyu told her, as self-assured as telling someone that the sun would rise the next morning.
Kiku held tightly onto the Crystal Heart. She felt its power flow through her as she accepted it and all of Miyu’s love in tow. With a breath, she found her own power inside of her. She transformed. Not into a human, not into an Efreeti, nor an abomination of them both but something else.
Ribbons and frills trailed around her, she smiled brilliantly, and she became the person that she had always wanted to be. All in gloves and socks and a lovely dress with a kindly, fiery motif woven through it all.
“I now dub you... Cure Blaze.” Miyu decided as she took Kiku’s hands.
Kiku tugged on Miyu’s hands and then brought her into a dear and tight embrace. Nuzzling into the crook of Miyu’s neck, thinking about how they had all the time in the world, unlike before, these surprisingly cherished past six months or so which were crooked and borrowed due to being a pretence for a failed betrayal. Kiku decided that wanted to not only see the spring and summer with this precious person of hers, but the other seasons too, autumn and winter.
“Thank you.” Kiku mumbled.
#writing tag#vrainsrarepairweeks#vrainsrarepairweeks2019#yugioh vrains#vrains#yugioh#kiku kamishirakawa#sugisaki miyu#miyu x kiku#kiku x miyu#miyukiku#femslash
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“25 April, Henry wrote to Richard Pate, his ambassador with Charles, advising him of the recent discussions with Chapuys, and justifying his uncompromising stance. In one part of the letter – on the subject of Mary’s legitimacy and her place in the succession – Henry’s choice of words suggests that he was anticipating a happy event that had yet to be publicly and formally announced:
‘The emperor’s second overture and request was that, forasmuch as there is great likelihood and appearance that God will send unto us heirs male to succeed us … we would vouchsafe … to legitimise our daughter Mary in such degree, as in default of issue by our most dear and most entirely beloved wife the queen, she [Mary] might not be reputed unable to some place in our succession.’
How could Henry be so confident of male heirs if he was apparently resigned to a ‘default of issue’ from his present queen? Henry was getting ahead of himself, his heart now fixed on his new dearly beloved. Pate may have heard unofficially about Jane, so he was unlikely to be misled by this ‘most dear and beloved wife the queen’, as if Henry was still attached to Anne. This is the language of diplomacy. Henry was being indiscreet, but he was not speaking from the heart. Nor was this the right time to officially announce to his ambassadors abroad that he was about to put Anne, the barren wife, away for another woman. [...] It must be one of the strangest letters Henry ever wrote, but we will have to leave Pate to puzzle it out for himself, because events at home were moving ahead swiftly. A new queen would require new succession laws, so writs were issued on 27 April for a new parliament to assemble with all haste; the previous parliament had been dissolved on 14 April. Chapuys was also full of news. Nicholas Carew, one of Jane’s most lively supporters, had been invested with the Order of the Garter much to the frustration of Anne’s brother, who had coveted it for himself. Carew was daily conspiring against Anne, and increasingly confident that she would soon be ‘dismissed’. This word ‘dismissed’ – not ‘destroyed’ – is worth noting well. There is a world of difference between Anne being dismissed and Anne being destroyed. Henry was ‘tired of her’, Chapuys continued; he cannot ‘bear her any longer’. Henry and Cromwell must have reckoned with the likelihood that Cranmer would be reluctant to consent to Anne’s ‘dismissal’, so Bishop Stokesley of London had been sounded out on whether Henry could ‘abandon’ her. Stokesley was cagey; he would not give an opinion unless asked to do so by Henry, and even then he would try and ‘ascertain what the king’s intentions were’ before committing himself. The word ‘abandon’ is as significant as the ‘dismissed’. All the talk is of Anne being divorced, as Catherine was, but nothing more. Not yet.”
— John Schofield, The Rise & Fall of Thomas Cromwell: Henry VIII’s Most Faithful Servant
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List Of Skyrim Wives
Optional Kill Amaund Motierre
Skyrim Husband's List
List Of Skyrim Husbands
List Of Skyrim Wives
Aela the Huntress. Aela is one of the elite members of the mates in Whiterun. She is the best hunter. And that is our top 10 Skyrim best steward list. Either way, let us know in the comments. And if you want to meet someone in Skyrim that could be more than a good hand around the house, check out our Skyrim Best Wife Top 10.
The Divines have blessed a total of 30 female marriage candidates and 37 male marriage candidates in The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim and official expansions.
You can marry anyone regardless of your Dragonborn’s race or gender, so long as you’ve fulfilled whatever conditions make them your friend. Housecarls will be wiling to wed you as soon as they enter your service, mercenaries must be hired first, and other candidates have fetch quests or other requirements.
You’ll also need to exhaust the dialog options with Maramal, the priest in the Temple of Mara in Riften, and be wearing an amulet of Mara in order to initiate a marriage proposal. It does not have to be an amulet purchased from Maramal, any amulet of Mara will do. There’s a free one in a tent along the shoreline east of Dawnstar. Others appear at random throughout the game.
Skyrim allows one marriage and only one per Dragonborn, even if your spouse is killed — unless you use mods or console commands. There’s a persistent rumor that players can kill their spouses and remarry, but I suspect that’s a feature added by the Unofficial Skyrim Patch that PC players frequently download, or possibly a very early gameplay bug that was patched in subsequent updates, so don’t assume it will work for you. Choose your spouse wisely.
There’s only one Altmer and one Redguard, both female, who can be married. The Hearthfire DLC adds a second Redguard female. There are no Bosmer (wood elves) or Khajiit (cat people) to marry, at all, male or female, unless using mods or console commands.
After the wedding, all male and female spouses will give you a homecooked meal and 100 septims a day. You can live in your spouse’s home or move them into one of your homes, though some spouses may leave — such as Camilla taking over her brother’s shop if he dies or Ysolda taking over the Bannered Mare if Hulda dies. I’ve also read that only spouses from the Dragonborn DLC can be moved to Severin Manor on Solstheim, but I don’t have confirmation of this.
The main differences between spouses, other than appearance and voice, are where they live, whether or not they can be followers, and how likely they are to be killed. I recommend marrying someone who is a follower, even if you don’t take them with you on adventures, because you can access their inventory and give them weapons, armor, staffs, enchanted items and health potions, to help keep them alive. Towns and Hearthfire homes do get attacked, and death does happen, unless your spouse is one of the few programmed “essential,” or unless you’re using mods and console commands.
For more about marriage in Skyrim, see this Elder Scrolls wiki page or this Unofficial Elder Scrolls wiki page.
Let’s take a look at our choices…
COMPANIONS
The Companions are a warrior guild in Whiterun and for many players the first faction of friends and potential marriage candidates you’ll meet. Some are both teachers and followers, which allows you to buy skill training and then access their inventory and take back the gold, essentially getting training — and level ups — for free.
All live in Jorrvaskr, where you can live anyway if you join the guild, so you won’t gain additional housing through marriage. Several players have also reported glitches in which steward or married Companions return to Jorrvaskr instead of living in the Dragonborn’s home.
Aela is Supreme Werewolf Queen of Side-Boob, which makes her almost as popular a wife choice as cranky Lydia. Aela and Njada are both Nords and trainers, in archery and blocking respectively. Ria is an Imperial. All three are skilled warrior women and possible followers, but Aela’s level cap is 50, while the others max out at 25.
Between Vilkas’ tear-streaked emo eyeliner and Farkas’ dumb-yet-endearing-jockishness, the Brothers Werewolf are popular husbands.
Vilkas is a two-handed trainer, follower, spouse and steward. Farkas is a heavy armor trainer, follower and spouse. Both are level capped at 50. Torvar is a potential follower and spouse who is a surly drunk. He’s capped at 25.
All three are Nords. There’s also a Dark Elf in the Companions who can be married, but I’ve listed him with the Dunmer, below.
HOUSECARLS
All housecarls are Nords, except Rayya who’s a Redguard. All begin with the same armor, weapons and stats, except Valdimar who is a spellsword, while the rest are classified as warriors. They live in houses that belong to you, so you won’t get a bonus house through marriage.
All are possible spouses, stewards and followers who will defend you unto death. They are all level capped at 50, so should be able to stick with you through most of the game, assuming you continue to improve their weapons, armor and other gear. Don’t forget to put health potions in their inventories.
From left to right: Lydia (Breezehome in Whiterun), Iona (Honeyside in Riften), Jordis (Proudspire Manor in Solitude). and Rayya (Lakeview Manor, added by the Hearthfire expansion).
The basic game gives us Argis the Bulwark (Vlindrel Hall in Markarth) and Calder with the groovy mutton chops (Hjerim in Windhelm). Hearthfire evens up the score with two more male housecarls — Valdimar (Windstad Manor) and Gregor (Heljarchen Hall).
DUNMER
There are several gray-skinned Dunmer to marry, perhaps because of the popularity of Morrowind?
Avrusa Sarethi is an alchemist with her own farm.
Brelyna Maryon is an apprentice mage at the College of Winterhold (no bonus house there) and she can also be a follower, level cap 30.
Dravynea the Stoneweaver is an Expert Alteration trainer who works in the Steamscorch Mine and lives in Braidwood Inn in Kynesgrove.
Jenassa is a mercenary follower living in the Drunken Huntsman, level cap 40.
Revyn Sadri is a merchant in Windhelm and a speech skill trainer, but will only marry or train the Dragonborn if you help him with his request to return a stolen ring. If you don’t side with him, it is possible to marry Viola instead (see below).
Romlyn Dreth is a bootlegger with a small home under the city of Riften.
Sondas Drenim is a food vendor at Darkwater Crossing, a mining camp.
Athis is a member of the Companions who can be a follower or spouse, as well as one-handed skill trainer, level capped at 25.
HOTTIES
Anwen (Redguard), Orla (Nord) and Senna (Breton). All of these ladies live in the Temple of Dibella, goddess of love, in Markarth. Note: There’s a reported bug with Orla where she refuses to leave the temple to live in anywhere else.
While not devotees of a love goddess, these three seem to be popular hunky husband choices for their looks, personality and skills.
Marcurio the sassy Imperial mage mercenary can be hired at his residence, the Bee and Barb in Riften, and is level capped at 40.
Onmund is a sweet apprentice at the College of Winterhold who is a potential mage follower (level cap 30) and steward, whose Nord family does not supporting his interest in magic.
Vorstag is a warrior mercenary who can be hired from his residence, the Silverblood Inn in Markarth. He has a sweet disposition while also being a badass fighter, and possesses one of the softer Nord voices in the game.
AND MORE HOTTIES
Camilla is sister to the proprietor of Riverwood Trader and the Imperial creamy center of a love Oreo between Faendal the Bosmer archer and Sven the Nord bard. If you marry her, her “friends” will continue to visit her at your home, wherever you live. She may also return to Riverwood and take over the family business if her brother dies.
Muiri is a Breton alchemy assistant who inherits the Hag’s Cure in Markarth if her employer is killed (and who also has an interesting love life, too, which you will hear about while doing the Dark Brotherhood questline).
Ysolda is an enterprising Nord drug dealer with her own tiny house in Whiterun, who takes over the Bannered Mare if Hulda the innkeeper is killed. She was made “essential” by one of the official updates (which are automatically included in some versions of the game), so cannot die, I assume because of her role in the quest “A Night to Remember.”
Sylgja manages to retain her youthful beauty in spite of being a hard-working Nord miner, and her big bust apparently doesn’t get in the way of swinging a pickaxe all day at Redbelly Mine in Shor’s Stone.
Sorexis an Imperial whose father owns the Winking Skeever in Solitude, involved in a love triangle with Vivienne Onis and Roggvir until the latter was beheaded. After marriage, he may continue flirting with ladies who enter the inn and he hates every home except Proudspire Manor.
Quintusis an Imperial alchemist who takes over the White Phial shop in Windhelm when his employer dies. I don’t know if he qualifies as a hottie (maybe if he lost that hat), but he’s young and seems to be kind.
Wilhelm owns the Vilemyr Inn in Ivarstead. While the Nord cannot be a follower, he possesses pickpocket skill and is marked “essential” so he can never be killed.
Roggi Knot-Beard is a Nord miner in Kynesgrove, drunk and in debt, who can be a potential spouse, steward and follower, though his skills are minimal and his level is capped at 20.
MATURE SPOUSES
If you prefer your spouse to be a little older and wiser, we have…
From left to right: Aeri, Nord owner of Anga’s Mill and her own house. Gilfre, Imperial owner of Mixwater Mill and her own house. Temba, Nord mill owner in Ivarstead. Uthgerd the Unbroken, Nord mercenary, level cap 30, for hire in the Bannered Mare and owner of a decent house in Whiterun.
Optional Kill Amaund Motierre
Ainethach is a prominent Breton who runs the Sanuarach Mine and owns a farmhouse in Karthwasten.
Balimund is a blacksmith and smithing skill trainer with a house and forge in Riften, which he shares with his adopted son Asbjorn Fire-Tamer.
Filnjar is a Nord blacksmith with a house in Shor’s Stone.
Stenvar is a Nord warrior mercenary with a decent sense of humor who may be hired from his home, Candlehearth Hall in Windhelm. He has the same voice as Farkas and Balimund. I married him in my first playthrough. He makes an excellent follower but is capped at level 40 and I had to retire him to Proudspire Manor with our kids sometime between levels 45-50.
ORCS & ARGONIANS
If you like the kind of spouse who has green skin and tusks, we have the orcs or “Orsimer” of Skyrim.
Female orcs: Borgakh the Steel Heart is the daughter of the Chief Larak of the Orc stronghold of Mor Khazgur and a potential follower, level cap 30. Ghorza is a blacksmith and smithing trainer in Markarth, who lives with her brother in Understone Keep.
Male orcs: Gat Gro-Shargakh is a miner who lives in Kolskeggr Mine, east of Markarth. Moth gro-Bagol is Ghorza’s brother and also a blacksmith, working and living in Understone Keep in Markarth. Ghorbash the Iron Hand is an Orsimer living in Dushnikh Yal and is the brother of Chief Burguk. He is a potential follower (capped at level 30), spouse and steward.
Or if that isn’t exotic enough for you, the Argonian spouses…
One lizard lady, Shahvee, and two lizard gentleman, Derkeethus and Scouts-Many-Marshes.
Scouts-Many-Marshes is a light armor trainer but not a potential follower, so you probably can’t retrieve your gold from his inventory after training. He and Shahvee live in the Argonian Assemblage bunkhouse in Windhelm, if you marry and move in with one of them.
If rescued from Darkwater Pass, Derkeethus can be a follower (ranger class, level cap 30 and the only Argonian follower in the game) and potential marriage candidate. After being rescued, he will move back to the small mining camp of Darkwater Crossing and might get killed by Falmer who spawn there.
DRAGONBORN DLC SPOUSES
One male and two female marriage candidates are added by the Dragonborn DLC. All are Nords. From what I’ve read, these are the only spouses who can live with you in Severin Manor, but I’m not sure if they are limited to Solstheim or can move to Skyrim, too.
Halbarn Iron-FurandHilund are residents of Bujold’s Retreat/Thirsk Mead Hall and Morwen has her own home in the Skaal Village. Halbarn and Hilund are level capped at 60, but I’m not sure if any of them can be followers or not.
SPECIAL SPOUSES
These are the final three eligible females, but there’s much more to discuss on the male side. I’ll follow up with that in a sec.
Mjoll the Lioness is a Nord who lives with Aerin in Riften. She is a skilled fighter who can be a follower, and while capped at 40, what makes her special is that she cannot be killed. Even after her quest is finished, she will not die. Keep in mind that wherever she goes, Aerin will follow.
Skyrim Husband's List
Taarie lives in the Radiant Raiment shop in Solitude, which is pretty special if you decide to move in with her, but what makes her really special is that she is the only Altmer (High Elf) marriage candidate in the game.
Viola is special because she appears to be the only old female marriage candidate, as well as an Imperial living in Windhelm (Ulfric Stormcloak’s city) with a very large home that rivals Hjerim.
THE BAD AND THE UGLY
Omluag is a Breton who lives in the Warrens (basically the homeless shelter) of Markarth.
Odfel is a Nord who shares a small house with an orc and whose claim to fame is a unique pickaxe called Rocksplinter.
Perth is a Breton miner in Soljund’s Sinkhole who looks like he should be following Dorothy and Toto to see the Wizard. He shares a house with Tuthul (who is kind of hot looking and has a cool mohawk, but isn’t a marriage candidate – why?).
Pavo Attius seems to be the best catch of the bunch, since the Imperial owns the Kolskeggr gold mine and a house outside Markarth, but he will remain in miner’s clothes unless you have a PC mod. Forsworn might also invade from time to time and can kill him when you’re not around, unless you move him to another home.
Angrenor Once-Honored is a homeless Nord war veteran who lives on the streets of Windhelm.
Belrand is an old spellsword for hire in the Winking Skeever.
Benor is a Nord thug who lives in Morthal and has been denied a job with the city guards but still lives in the guardhouse anyway. Beat him up to win his heart.
Cosnach is a drunk whose heart can also be won by a brawl. In my experience, he’s a decent follower with some funny dialog about “aiming for the one in the middle” (since he’s drunk, get it?). He lives in the Warrens of Markarth.
Octieve is a retired old Breton veteran who offers some two-handed training. He gambles, drinks, and lives with his grown daughter Evette in Solitude.
I WISH I COULD HAVE MARRIED
Blazing badass Teldryn Sero fills all top ten of my list. My heart is forever broken that the Dunmer spellsword can neither marry nor become a steward so we could have at least lived together. It might have been nice to marry Faendal, the sweet Bosmer archer of Riverwood, or black leather clad bad boy Brynjolf of the Thieves Guild.
Really, just about any of the Thieves Guild members would have been acceptable partners. Partners for what, exactly? Yeah, I guess they’re not really the marrying type.
Alas, they are all unavailable, unless you’re rocking a mod on PC. I’ve been playing on PS3.
~ J.L. Hilton
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Welcome to Skyrimmagic Today we are bringing you a list of possible spouses in Skyrim, a list I know several people have been looking and asking us for. This tell you all of the possible spouses both male and female, their race, their job, and where you can find them.
Females:
Aela the Huntress – Nord, Companion, Jorrvaskr in Whiterun.
-Requirement: You must complete The Companion’s story arc with Glory of the Dead.
Aeri – Nord, Lumberjack, Anga’s Mill in The Pale.
-Requirement: Work for her chopping firewood.
Anwen – Redguard, Priestess, Temple of Dibella, Markarth.
-Requirement: You must complete Temple Quest: The Heart of Dibella
Avrusa Sarethi – Dark Elf, Farmer, Sarethi Farm, The Rift.
Borghak the Steel Heart – Orc, Warrior, Mor Khazgur, The Reach.
-Requirement: You must pay her dowry or convince her to leave her home.
Brelyna Maryon – Dark Elf, Student, College of Winterhold, Winterhold.
-Requirement: You must complete of Brelyna’s Practice.
Camilla Valerius – Imperial, Merchant, Riverwood Trader, Riverwood.
-Requirement: Completion of The Golden Claw.
Dravynea the Stoneweaver – Dark Elf, Mage, Kynesgrove, Eastmarch.
-Requirement: Give her one Frost Salt.
Ghorza gra-Bagol – Orc, Blacksmith, Blacksmith Shed, Markarth.
-Requirement: Give her The Last Scabbard of Akrash.
Gilfre – Imperial, Miller, Mixwater Mill, Eastmarch.
-Requirement: Also chopping firewood.
Grelka – Nord, Merchant, open market, Riften (Can be married only through console command ).
Iona – Nord, Housecarl, Honeyside, Riften.
-Requirement: Become Thane of The Rift. (some bugs with this, she may treat you as thane not spouse)
Jenassa – Dark Elf, Hireling, Drunken Huntsman, Whiterun.
-Requirement: Hire her.
Jordis the Sword-Maiden – Nord, Housecarl, Proudspire Manor, Solitude.
-Requirement: Become Thane of Solitude.
Mjoll the Lioness – Nord, Adventurer, Riften. (My wife, sexy accent not bad looking and boss warrior, cannot die)
-Requirement: Retrieve her sword, Grimsever, from the dwemer ruins of Mzinchaleft. Phoenix point: year one edition download for mac.
Muiri – Breton, Alchemist, The Hag’s Cure, Markarth.
-Requirement: Completion of Mourning Never Comes. (You have to kill BOTH targets to gain Muiri’s affection.)
Njada Stone-Arm – Nord, Companion, Jorrvaskr, Whiterun.
-Requirement: Completion of The Companion’s story arc with Glory of the Dead.
Orla – Nord, Priestess, Temple of Dibella, Markarth.
-Requirement: Complete Temple Quest: The Heart of Dibella.
Ria – Imperial, Companion, Jorrvaskr, Whiterun.
-Requirement: Completion of The Companion’s story arc with Glory of the Dead.
Senna – Imperial, Priestess, Temple of Dibella, Markarth.
-Requirement: Completion of The Heart of Dibella.
Shahvee – Argonian, Dockworker, Argonian Assemblage, Windhelm.
-She may be married by recovering the Amulet of Zenithar and returning it to her. Please note that she may be killed in the quest Blood on the Ice, so it is suggested that you attempt to marry her before starting this quest, or proceed with caution saving often.
Sylgja – Nord, Miner, Shor’s Stone, The Rift.
-Requirement: Deliver her satchel to her father in Darkwater Crossing, then return his satchel to her.
List Of Skyrim Husbands
Taarie – Altmer, Solitude
-Requirement: Visit Elisif the Fair while wearing the outfit she gives you then return to her and tell her what
happened.
Temba Wide-Arm – Nord, Miller, Ivarstead, The Rift.
-Requirement: Bring her 10 bear pelts.
Uthgerd the Unbroken – Nord, found in her house, in Whiterun.
-Requirement: Best her in a brawl battle.
Viola Giordano – Imperial, Busybody, Candlehearth Hall, Windhelm.
-Requirement: Start Revyn Sadri ‘s favor, but then rat him out to Viola.
Ysolda – Nord, Citizen, open market, Whiterun.
-Requirement: Give her a Mammoth Tusk.
Males:
List Of Skyrim Wives
Ainethach – Breton, Mine Owner, Karthwasten, The Reach.
Angrenor Once-Honored – Nord, Beggar, Candelhearth Hall, Windhelm.
-Requirement: Take pity and give the beggar a gold piece.
Argis the Bulwark – Nord, Housecarl, Vlindrel Hall, Markarth.
-Requirement: Becoming Thane of Markarth.
Athis – Dark Elf, Companion, Jorrvaskr Living Quarters, Whiterun.
-Requirement: Completion of The Companion’s story arc with Glory of the Dead.
Balimund – Nord, Blacksmith, The Scorched Hammer, Riften.
-Requirement: Give him 10 Fire Salts.
Belrand – Nord, Hireling, The Winking Skeever, Solitude.
-Requirement: Hire him.
Benor – Nord, Warrior, Morthal.
-Requirement: Challenge him to a brawl and win.
Calder – Nord, Housecarl, Hjerim, Windhelm.
-Requirement: Become Thane of Eastmarch.
Cosnach – Breton, Drunk/Porter, Silver-Blood Inn, Markarth.
-Requirement: Challenge him to a brawl and win.
Derkeethus – Argonian, Fisherman, Darkwater Crossing, Eastmarch.
-Requirement: Find and rescue him.
Erik the Slayer – Nord, Barbarian, (( Frostfruit Inn), Rorikstead
-Requirement: Hire him. Note: Sometimes, the choice for marriage doesn’t appears in the dialogues. It is a bug.
Farkas – Nord, Companion, Jorrvaskr, Whiterun. (Vilkas’ Twin)
-Requirement: Completion of The Companion’s story arc with Glory of the Dead.
Filnjar – Nord, Blacksmith, Shor’s Stone, The Rift.
-Requirement: Complete Quest, Mine or Yours
Gat gro-Shargakh – Orc, Miner, Left Hand Mine / Kolskeggr Mine, The Reach.
-Requirement: Complete favor to Pavo Attius to liberate Kolskeggr Mine.
Ghorbash the Iron Hand – Orc, Warrior, Burguk’s Longhouse, Dushnikh Yal, The Reach.
Marcurio – Imperial, Hireling, Bee and Barb, Riften.
-Requirement: Hire him.
Moth gro-Bagol – Orc, Blacksmith, Understone Keep, Markarth.
Octieve San – Breton, Citizen, Solitude. Frequently found in and around the Winking Skeever.
-Convince the gamblers to let him off his debts
Omluag – Breton, Miner, Markath Smelter, Markarth.
-Talk to Mulush about the smelters
Odfel – Nord, Miner, Shor’s Stone.
Onmund – Nord, Student, The Hall of Attainment, College of Winterhold.
Pavo Attius – Imperial, Miner, Left Hand Mine / Kolskeggr Mine, The Reach.
-Requirement: Complete his favor to liberate Kolskeggre Mine.
Perth – Breton, Miner, Soljund’s Sinkhole, The Reach.
-Requirement: Clear Soljund’s Sinkhole of Draugr.
Quintus Navale – Imperial, Alchemist, The White Phial, Windhelm.
-Requirement: Complete Quest, Repairing the Phial
Revyn Sadri – Dark Elf, Merchant, Sadri’s Used Wares, Windhelm.
-Requirement: Bring back stolen ring from shop’s stock to Windhelm inhabitant
Roggi Knot-Beard – Nord, Miner, Steamscorch Mine, Kynesgrove, Eastmarch.
Romlyn Dreth – Dark Elf, Meadery Worker, Black-Briar Meadery, Riften.
Scouts-Many-Marshes – Argonian, Dockworker, Argonian Assemblage, in Windhelm.
-Requirement: Talk to Torbjorn Shatter-Shield about the Argonian dock workers
Sondas Drenim – Dark Elf, Miner, Goldenrock Mine, Darkwater Crossing, Eastmarch.
Sorex Vinius – Imperial, Assistant Innkeeper, Winking Skeever, Solitude.
-Requirement: Deliver kegs of rum to Falk Firebeard at the Blue Palace
Stenvar – Nord, Hireling, Candlehearth Hall, Windhelm.
-Requirement: Hire him.
Torvar – Nord, Companion, Jorrvaskr, Whiterun.
-Requirement: Completion of The Companion’s story arc with Glory of the Dead.
Vilkas – Nord, Companion, Jorrvaskr, Whiterun. (Farkas’ Twin)
-Requirement: Completion of The Companion’s story arc with Glory of the Dead.
Vorstag – Nord, Hireling, Silver-Blood Inn, Markarth.
-Requirement: You must Hire him
Wilhelm – Nord, Innkeeper, Vilemyr Inn, Ivarstead, The Rift.
-Requirement: You must complete Dungeon Quest, Wilhelm’s Scream.
This is the list of any of the wives or husbands you may have in this game. If you see an error or I am missing someone contact us and let us know!
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The Spectre of the Opera
Another story I’ve had forever and will never get around to writing. This one’s just drama and angst! With a happy ending! Based on Phantom of the Opera because I am a predictable bastard. And if you’re wondering what ship... I honestly couldn’t decide, which is why I won’t be pursuing the project, but there’s alternate endings for whichever one you want to sail (or depending on if you’re looking for a love story or a horror story). Anyway, have fun.
Blake is orphaned at a young age and taken in by Madame Goodwitch, dance instructor at the Vale Opera House. She befriends the resident 'Spectre', Weiss, who was abandoned by her aristocratic family due to the physical deformity covering the left side of her face. Weiss was also taken in by Madame Goodwitch, but she lives in the shadows of the Opera House, out of sight as much as possible except to Madame Goodwitch and Blake, neither of whom balk at the scars on her face. As Blake grows up, she becomes a talented dancer in her own right while learning how to sing from Weiss in the shadows, and leading up to the season after her twentieth birthday, she catches the interest of stagehand Adam as well as a few of the other performers within the cast, Ilia and Velvet being a few of them. Blake is friendly with everyone on the crew and often ignores any romantic overtures, not wanting to stir up trouble among them.
Eventually, the Opera House is bought by two up-and-coming entrepreneurs- Neptune and Sun- who have managed to secure financial backing from Viscountess Yang Xiao Long, who isn't nearly as interested in the arts but wants somewhere for her sister, Ruby, to practice what will become the first special effects of their kind seen in theatre. None of them know much about the art of running a theatre but Sun and Neptune are confident it can’t be much different than their usual businesses and Yang is rich enough she doesn’t care if the venture tanks.
Initially, Neptune and Sun are put off by the cast and crew's reverence towards the Spectre- whom they don’t believe really exists- and try to change how the Opera House is run to better suit their limited understanding, not wanting to seem like pushovers. This includes promoting Blake from support to primary cast, which the Spectre is okay with, but some other things appear to touch a nerve. When they invite the Viscountess to watch a practice performance, however, is when things become a bit more serious as Yang becomes smitten with Blake and begins attempting to woo her. In an effort to curb the co-owners' and the Viscountess' meddling, Weiss begins sabotaging little things around the Opera House to drive them off; prior to this, the new owners took the Spectre as being the unofficial voice of the crew, not an actual being unto herself, and Weiss isn’t above playing up the ‘haunted’ angle if it means driving them away. It doesn't work, of course, and creates tension between Blake and Weiss instead, seeing as Blake can recognize her friend’s handiwork even without catching sight of the secretive woman. Adam becomes a bit overprotective of Blake as well, seeing the Spectre's actions as harmful to her, but also works against Yang whenever the Viscountess visits, seeing her as a rival.
Everything comes to a head during the Opera House's premiere, which Yang attends to proudly introduce Blake's debut, when Weiss and Adam unknowingly stage several mishaps aimed at Neptune, Sun, and Yang simultaneously, and the cumulative chaos created is far worse than either anticipated. The entire fiasco is blamed on the Spectre, however, prompting Blake to become angry with Weiss' actions (and Adam's actions attributed to her) and leave the Opera House to live with Yang while repairs are done- an offer Yang made immediately when it became apparent that the opportunity would arise.
In the quiet months until the Opera's grand reopening, Weiss decides to show that she never intended for Blake to be adversely affected by writing a play for her, as well as to making amends for the business lost. Little does she know, Blake’s growing closer to Yang during this time but, though she's still angry with the Spectre, admits her parting words were unnecessarily harsh; Weiss admitted to the things she did but vehemently denied others and Blake knows Weiss well enough to know she wasn’t lying. Yang urges her to worry about the Spectre later, convinced that whatever relationship they share is platonic despite some of Blake's statements that hint at a deeper connection.
At the turn of the New Year, Neptune and Sun host a masquerade at the Opera House to commemorate its reopening. Yang and Blake attend, of course, wearing matching costumes, though Blake jokes that some might get the wrong idea and think they're engaged. The party is in full swing when Weiss appears to present the finished play, only to recognize Blake in her masque and become bitter about the apparent progress in her and Yang's relationship. Yang takes this as an attack and tries to fight the Spectre but Weiss retreats, using her own version of Ruby's special effects to make her escape. Concerned about what angering the Spectre again might cost them, Neptune and Sun go ahead with Weiss' play, using it to reopen their season.
In the downtime between practices, Blake tries to find Weiss but is either unsuccessful, is interrupted by Yang, or interrupted by Adam. Although she brushes Adam off and implores Yang to leave her be until she's made amends with the Spectre, Weiss refuses to show herself until a week before the premiere, confronting Blake over the perceived slight of abandoning her to run away with Yang. Blake fires back by reminding Weiss that she never asked to be an Opera star and would rather travel the world- something Weiss would never do for fear of leaving the Opera House and being subject to ridicule- but hasn't left purely because she doesn't want to abandon Weiss. The two argue about the depth and meaning of their relationship and part on bad terms, with Weiss angry that Blake's apparently choosing Yang over her while Blake is frustrated by her own conflicted feelings regarding both women.
The night before the premiere, Yang attempts to engage the Spectre, calling out in the empty backstage while unaware that Adam is also listening in, and announces that she intends on proposing to Blake after the show. This draws Weiss out into the open and the two argue briefly about what is best for Blake before acknowledging that making a choice for her isn't right for either of them to do. Finally, they come to a compromise: if Blake accepts the proposal, Weiss will not stand in the way, but if she declines, then Yang will leave for Vacuo and let her sister manage any financial obligations to the Opera House. Adam, bitter that his own attempts to woo Blake aren’t even acknowledged, begins plotting.
The night of the premiere, the audience is enamored by the performance and the play itself- which is basically Beauty and the Beast, as a side note- and Yang proposes as promised. Blake, overwhelmed from the standing ovation and unsure of her feelings, accepts, not wanting to embarrass Yang by declining publicly. Weiss, absolutely devastated, honors her promise and leaves a single, light purple rose with a congratulatory note for Blake in her dressing room and a vow to remain out of the way. Despite caring for Weiss, Blake cares for Yang as well, and reasons that she would eventually have to choose between them anyway to try and assuage her guilt and doubts. Weiss remains in the shadows for the rest of the play's run through the week and avoids any possible interaction with Blake. Meanwhile, Adam takes the Spectre's silence as a sign she's given up, leaving him only Yang to see as an enemy.
Yang, sensing Blake's doubts, tries her best to ease her concerns and be supportive, visiting the Opera House daily to check up on Blake and is caught offguard when the Spectre appears. Where prior to this Weiss has opted for elaborate costumes more reminiscent of what would be seen on stage than worn in practicality, her wardrobe now is just enough to look presentable, absolutely no effort put into any extra flair. It unnerves Yang until Weiss speaks, having appeared for the purpose of relaying a simple request: that the wedding ceremony be held within view of the Opera House. Although heartbroken, Weiss would like to see Blake on her wedding day to wish her well, and Yang tentatively agrees, beginning to doubt her own decisions once faced with how hard the Spectre is taking the development. Blake, upset by Weiss' avoidance of her and with only Yang to turn to for support as she tries to cope with the attention the play’s brought, urges for the ceremony to take place soon, hoping the distance from the Opera House provided by their honeymoon might clear her troubled mind. Neptune and Sun are more than willing to allow the wedding to take place in front of the Opera House and help with the preparations, though they are curious about the lack of directions from the Spectre. Even Madame Goodwitch is concerned, admitting the Spectre won’t appear for her either, and it marks the first time their resident ghost has avoided even her presence.
Finally, the day of the wedding comes. The event is an all around splendid affair, right up until about halfway through the ceremony itself, when Weiss appears atop the Opera House. Only Blake and Yang notice her presence at first, both of them assuming she's going to intervene. However, as they watch, the Spectre offers a gesture she and Blake came up with- a secret, silent way of wishing good luck- and Blake quietly explains that Weiss is giving her blessing to their union. At first, Yang is grateful the other woman is honoring her word and not standing in the way but then she notices the distinct look of disappointment and doubt lingering in Blake's expression, as if the reality of her actions had just asserted itself.
Concerned she may have forced Blake to make a choice she wasn't prepared for, Yang is about to bring the ceremony to a halt when Adam appears, objecting to the union and challenging Yang to a duel for Blake's hand. Frankly a little glad she has someone else to blame calling off the wedding on- because there’s no way they can proceed with their vows, in her mind- Yang accepts, but is distracted when one of Adam's fellow stagehands attempts to grab Blake, leaving her open for a deep slice through her right arm that leaves her unable to defend herself adequately while Adam presses the attack.
Before Adam can land a killing blow, however, the Spectre intervenes, using more of Ruby's special effects to distract Adam before appearing at the entrance of the Opera House, seemingly with Blake draped over one shoulder and proclaiming herself as the one to take Blake to wife before retreating with her prize. Adam gives chase, leaving Yang to realize that Weiss was bluffing; Sun finds an unconscious Blake hidden beneath a table near the altar.
Within the Opera House, Weiss and Adam have a showdown on the stage, which Weiss has quickly rigged to explode while using misdirection to send Adam hunting for her elsewhere in the Opera House. By the time Adam realizes he’s been had, Weiss springs her trap, confining both of them within a wall of fire as everything begins to burn. That doesn’t stop Adam from making a blind charge, sending both of them rolling through the flames until one of the catwalks overhead falls, trapping him beneath it.
Seeing the smoke, Yang gathers her strength and charges into the Opera House to search for the Spectre, finding the woman already suffering from burns and unable to see enough to seek safety on her own. Blake awakens, is given a quick synopsis of recent events by Sun, and hurries into the Opera House herself in search of Yang and Weiss. (At least one character will remark on how dumb it is for not one, but two people to attempt this.) Yang tries to carry Weiss out but succumbs to blood loss and falls to the ground, leaving Weiss to try and drag both of them out. Blake finds them as the fire begins to spread, Yang unconscious and Weiss on the verge of it. Although Weiss urges Blake to take Yang and save themselves, Blake manages to drag both of them to the safety of the steps, where the Opera House's cast and crew are waiting to take them to safety.
While the fire brigade and medical personnel are arriving, Yang regains consciousness long enough to tell the officiant not to complete the marriage certificate, citing that they need some time to recover while explaining to Blake that she understands that she shouldn't have forced Blake to choose between herself and Weiss when she wasn't ready. Although still very much in love with Blake, Yang respects that Weiss loves her, too, and admits that the three of them should talk things over before rushing to any decisions.
Half a year later, the Vale Opera House is once again restored, Neptune and Sun proudly announcing a new play, entitled The Spectre of the Opera and revolving around a love triangle between the titular Spectre, the star of the Opera, and the charming Viscountess.
When it comes down to it, I just couldn’t decide if I wanted it to be Bee’s Schnee without or with eventual Freezerburn, or Monochrome with Weiss- with help from Yang and the cast and crew- gathering up the courage to venture out into the world, so she and Blake can travel together and Yang finding a different love interest. Also toyed with the idea of Winter being drawn to the story towards the end, having spent the years since her parents’ deaths searching high and low for the child they abandoned, and while Ilia and Velvet are there initially as part of the Blake fan club, they either end up dating each other or others. Also considered Ghira and Kali coming after Blake becomes famous, being very much Not Dead and instead separated from Blake during a natural disaster. There’s just a bunch of ways this set up could go and I’m terribly indecisive sometimes. So, here, pick the ending you want:
1) During their recovery at the hospital, while all of them are being treated for burns and Yang for the slash in her arm, Yang and Weiss talk to Blake both individually and together, explaining they truly just want her to be happy and shouldn’t have let pettiness and jealousy spur their actions and cause her pain. Blake accepts their apologies and admits she can’t choose between them, parts of her heart firmly belonging to each of them. Weiss proposes that, publicly speaking, Yang and Blake marry, so that no one raises brows when the two travel together during the Opera’s off season. Yang makes a point that, even if only the cast and crew of the Opera House are aware, Blake and Weiss should get married as well, and Yang will stay away during the play runs to afford them time together. Although a bit frustrated that Weiss and Yang are still a bit standoffish towards each other, Blake agrees, and both ceremonies are special and splendid in their own, separate ways. As the years go by, Weiss becomes more lax and invites Yang to the premieres to watch Blake’s performances with her, and Yang invites Weiss along on their trips and uses her clout to intimidate anyone thinking of ridiculing Weiss’ scars. Although they never become lovers, Weiss and Yang become the best of friends, and they each absolutely adore Blake, who can’t help but laugh at how foolish they were in their youth to not see the obvious answer in front of them.
2) While recovering in the hospital, Yang reflects on the events and admits that she can’t go through with the wedding, despite still loving Blake; some part of her would always believe that Blake’s heart lay elsewhere. Blake accepts this and invites Yang to come back to watch performances at the Opera House whenever she wants to before joining Weiss, similarly recovering. Although surprised at Yang’s decision, Weiss comforts Blake as best she can, encouraging her to still travel if her heart so desires. They return to the Opera House, once it’s been rebuilt, and after a few years of constant support from Blake, Weiss feels comfortable enough to join her on trips around Vale, though she does often wear a mask of some sort. Yang, meanwhile, visits every now and again, between trips all over Remnant and adventures of her own, and becomes good friends with Blake and Weiss despite everything.
3) As they recover in the hospital, Weiss receives a visitor- a woman who looks enough like her that she can finally imagine what she’d look like without the scars marring her face. The woman introduces herself as Winter, Weiss’ sister, and explains that she was hardly eight years old when the accident that disfigured Weiss as a toddler happened and prompted their parents to abandon Weiss. They passed away recently and Winter’s spent a considerable amount of their bequeathed fortune looking for Weiss, thinking it a mad cause but something she couldn’t resist once able. Winter helps financially back the Opera House’s reconstruction, seeing as it’s the only home Weiss has ever known, and she becomes supportive of the arts as a means of making it up to Weiss that she couldn’t stop their parents from abandoning her when they were children. Although reeling from the discovery, Weiss recovers well enough to introduce Winter to Blake, Yang, Madame Goodwitch, and the other cast and crew.
3a) After having the discussion from 1, Weiss introduces Blake as her fiance and Yang as her fiance’s fiance, and Winter gets told the whole story from the very beginning. Although she’s not sure what to make of their arrangement, Winter wishes them happiness after such a trying ordeal.
3b) After having the discussion from 2, Weiss introduces Blake as her girlfriend and Yang as the woman who saved her life. Winter picks up on Yang’s distraught and, wanting to help the person who gave her the chance to find her sister again, Winter cajoles Yang into accompany her on trips to rebuild the Opera House, including hunting down little show pieces for the foyer and such. She listens as Yang vents her feelings regarding everything and the two bond over a shared sense of helplessness and how much they hate the feeling, promising to help each other find ways to overcome the trials of the future. Ultimately, they marry, much to the elation of Weiss and Blake.
4) After Blake’s premiere, her picture is spread far and wide, drawing the attention of Ghira and Kali Belladonna, who lost their daughter years ago during a flood. They arrived at the Vale Opera House just as it went up in flames, assisting in the efforts to put out the fire and crossing paths with Madame Goodwitch. Although they can’t be sure, all of the information lines up- Blake was found wandering a village after a flood, she’s about the same age as the Belladonna girl, she does look an awful lot like Kali- and Ghira and Kali wait at the hospital while Madame Goodwitch goes to talk to Blake.
4a) After having the discussion from 1, Madame Goodwitch speaks with Blake, who wants to meet the people claiming to be her parents. Somehow, she recognizes them instantly, and quickly introduces them to both Weiss and Yang. Although Ghira and Kali are a little confused at how the whole arrangement came about, they welcome Weiss and Yang with open arms.
4a1) Ghira and Kali are then introduced to Winter, and the three bond over the shared pain of being forcibly separated from their loved one.
4b) After having the discussion from 2, Madame Goodwitch speaks with Blake, who wants to meet the people claiming to be her parents. Somehow, she recognizes them instantly, and quickly introduces them to Weiss, first, as her girlfriend, and then Yang as her former fiance. Although Ghira and Kali are a little concerned about everyone involved, they quickly throw their support behind those closest to Blake, and praise Weiss and Yang for their courage.
4b1) Ghira and Kali are then introduced to Winter. Years down the line, Kali’s the one to put the idea forth that Winter and Yang are good for each other, much to Blake’s relief seeing as all her hints have fallen on deaf ears.
5) (Heartbreaker ending(s)) Despite being rushed to the hospital, both Weiss and Yang succumb to their injuries. Blake is left alone, with only Madame Goodwitch to console her. Blake never performs for the Opera House again.
5a) Winter arrives but too late to speak to Weiss, though the familial resemblance is too striking to deny their blood relation. Although heartbroken, Blake recounts every story she can remember from growing up with Weiss; it’s as close as Winter ever comes to knowing the woman her sister became.
5b) Ghira and Kali arrive at the hospital and meet Blake, offering their condolences for her losses and offering to take her to Menagerie, where they moved to after losing her.
6) The story is being told by Ilia/Velvet, who stayed friends after the disastrous mess with Adam, Weiss, Yang, and Blake. Ilia/Velvet confess they don’t know what happened to Weiss, Yang, or Blake (if options 1-4 aren’t taken) but they believe that, on quiet nights, you can find the three spirits haunting the halls of the rebuilt Vale Opera House.
6a) Ilia and Velvet tell the story to their kids about why (if options 1-4 aren’t taken) they won’t go near the Vale Opera House, convinced they can still see Weiss standing on the roof, holding an eternal vigil, and they’d rather not learn where Yang’s and Blake’s spirits reside.
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How Saving Private Ryan’s Best Picture Loss Changed the Oscars Forever
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Saving Private Ryan’s loss of the Best Picture Oscar in 1999 still hurts. It’s a sentiment shared by many, and not just because of the disappointment they experienced when Shakespeare in Love took home that night’s top prize. After all, there have been plenty of upsets before and since. Just ask Brokeback Mountain’s producers about Crash, or La La Land’s about Moonlight. If Orson Welles was still alive, the stories he’d surely have to tell about How Green is My Valley.
Yet when it comes to Steven Spielberg’s seminal World War II epic losing to an amusing (if somewhat lightweight) romantic comedy, never before had there been an upset so fundamentally unexpected that it changed the way awards were won; and never before had a generally celebrated studio hit with frontrunner status run into the political machinations of Harvey Weinstein. The Oscars would never be the same.
Released in July 1998, Saving Private Ryan opened during a peak of renewed interest in the generation of Americans who endured the Great Depression and then won World War II, transforming the U.S. into a superpower. Later in the same year as Saving Private Ryan, Tom Brokaw’s book The Greatest Generation would popularize the term used by its title to describe their sacrifice. But by the time that was published, Spielberg had already given the idea visual form for younger audiences.
With an intense commitment to realism and authenticity, the director’s use of shaky handheld photography and brutally unsentimental depictions of violence were shocking in 1998. The opening sequence, centered on the D-Day landing, especially evoked documentary filmmaking, creating horror so visceral it would soon change the way war movies were shot. In that specific moment, however, all this suffering made the sacrifice of the film’s heroes—eight American soldiers sent behind enemy lines to bring one paratrooper home—appear Herculean.
The film was a massive blockbuster hit, back when $482 million worldwide was considered massive and blockbusters could be about more than superheroes and space wizards. Going forward there was little doubt in most conventional Oscar watchers’ minds that Spielberg had his second Best Picture Oscar sewn up.
Come Oscar night though, Spielberg picked up the Best Director Oscar (his second after Schindler’s List) while John Madden’s Shakespeare in Love left audiences at home surprised by taking the top award, alongside its wins for Best Actress, Best Supporting Actress, Best Original Screenplay, and Best Score… the latter two also at Saving Private Ryan’s expense.
Unto itself Shakespeare in Love is a charming film, essentially a backstage dramedy with literary pedigree. Ostensibly a fictionalized origin story for how the Bard got the idea for Romeo and Juliet, the film inserts insider Hollywood humor into an Elizabethan setting while also offering a lush romance between old Will and his personal Juliet (or Twelfth Night’s Violet, depending on the scene). It can be a sweet movie, but until 1998, it was not the kind of film that won Best Picture. In fact, most of the biggest winners of the ‘90s had been widely popular studio blockbusters: Titanic dubiously beat L.A. Confidential the year before; Braveheart beat Sense and Sensibility in 1996; and the year prior to that saw Forrest Gump defeat the Quentin Tarantino trailblazer, Pulp Fiction.
That latter case of popularity beating indie credibility was perhaps the most important to 1999, since that year’s conventional, feel-good Tom Hanks vehicle not only beat out a critical darling, but it beat a film produced by Miramax Films, a then-speciality arm of Disney which was originally founded (and still run) as an indie distributor by Bob and Harvey Weinstein. You likely know the latter’s name.
Before Harvey Weinstein became the notoriously disgraced figure of our post-#MeToo era—which culminated with his sentence to 23 years in prison after being convicted on one count of sexual assault in the first degree and one count of rape in the third degree—he reigned in Hollywood with impunity. And his throne room was the Oscar stage. Unlike other studios, Weinstein’s made the accruement of Oscars the centerpiece of its release strategy, building prestige and attention off award wins, and transforming that into belated box office dollars. The process redefined what an “Oscar Movie” looked like: they generally became smaller budgeted, less seen, and often greenlit with (if not written for) Academy voters’ preconceived tastes in mind.
Shakespeare in Love beating Saving Private Ryan was the turning point that implemented this sea change.
When the Weinstein-produced comedy first screened for Academy voters in December 1998, the movie was met by a reportedly cool reception, signaling the film would have a small impact on the year’s Oscar race. However, as detailed by Rebecca Keegan and Nicole Sperling’s intricate reporting in Vanity Fair, Weinstein’s pioneering Oscar campaign for that movie would become his “bully masterpiece.”
Prior to Shakespeare in Love’s win, Oscar campaigns were generally a cordial, good old boys affair. There would be industry screenings for Academy voters and the guilds, of course, and promotions in trade newspapers that would provide “For Your Consideration” pullout ads. However, Weinstein more or less invented the relentless months-long Oscar campaign that ends in February, but can begin as early as September.
Previously, promoting a movie for a filmmaker or actor might include appearing on talk shows ahead of the week of release, and doing a weekend of junket interviews. But after Shakespeare in Love, if a film had Oscar prospects it became an almost weekly obligation of appearing at screenings, participating in countless Q&As, and glad-handing at parties with awards voters. In fact, Academy voters got in trouble in ’98 for attending Weinstein’s “Welcome to America” party at New York’s posh Elaine’s restaurant—it was in honor of British Shakespeare in Love director, John Madden.
“It all began with Harvey,” one publicist told Vanity Fair. “I don’t remember ever feeling pressure like that from other studios. He was like, ‘Can you do these radio call-ins all morning?’ He calls the clients directly and guilts them. He really is a beast.”
Former Miramax executive Mark Gill described it as the movie’s release as being only an opening salvo for the publicity requirements placed on actors at the studio. “That was just ‘Good morning,’” said Gill. “You’ve got three months of shaking hands and kissing babies in you.”
Back in 1999, there was of course some resistance to this style of aggressively brazen schmoozing. Chief among the skeptics was Spielberg, the director of Saving Private Ryan and a Hollywood legend who didn’t feel the need to essentially beg for trophies.
“I said [to Steven Spielberg], ‘Listen, this is what’s going on,’” recalled Terry Press, a marketer then working at Spielberg’s DreamWorks Pictures. “Steven said to me, ‘I do not want to get down in the mud with Harvey.’”
TCM host Ben Mankiewicz also recalled these events when Den of Geek spoke with him several years ago.
Said Mankiewicz, “Spielberg was urged to counter… and Spielberg being a normal, well-adjusted good person who believed in the process [said] ‘No, I’m not going to campaign for my movie. I’ll do promotions for my movie, but I’m not going to try and charm people and send them things so they vote for my movie.’”
Meanwhile Miramax started a whisper campaign saying everything good about Saving Private Ryan occurred within the first 15-20 minutes on the beaches of Normandy, and the rest was sentimental hokum. It worked. Spielberg did not campaign like it’s the Monday before election day, and Weinstein did.
Read more
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Saving Private Ryan: The Real History That Inspired the WW2 Movie
By David Crow
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How the Secret of Saving Private Ryan’s Power Lies in its Portrayal of the Enemy
By Mark Allison
While Weinstein is thankfully gone, the crude lessons learned by Shakespeare in Love’s win over Saving Private Ryan are not. Awards seasons generally begin in early September with the Venice Film Festival and the Toronto International Film Festival acting as unofficial clearinghouses for studios and distributors to showcase their most award-friendly wares. It then continues with each film being released between October and December, mounting months-long rollouts that never really end until Oscar night.
Coupled with corporate studio interests leaning evermore heavily on “four-quadrant” blockbusters that are built on franchises, this system has created an environment where Oscar movies are often little-seen limited releases, and mainstream populist films are more concerned with superpowers than prestige. While the actual type of movies nominated for Best Picture appear to be gradually changing—from more diversity among the winners like Moonlight and Parasite to even superhero movies like Black Panther and Joker now getting nods—the generally accepted wisdom that Oscar movies and popular movies are mutually exclusive remains intact.
In other words, the studios rarely make movies like Saving Private Ryan anymore, and what is making big money is not the type of film to end up on “Best of the Year” lists come December. But even when there are exceptions to the rule, and studios let auteurs make a Dunkirk or a 1917, the filmmakers will still be spending months in what Spielberg once called “the mud.”
“It ranks pretty low in the list of lousy things that Harvey Weinstein did, they’re terrible what Harvey Weinstein did,” Mankiewicz told us. “But it’s on the list.”
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I Believe!
** Jonah and the Whale, Pieter Lastman 1621
My dear friend,
Perhaps you are thinking to yourself that I do not cherish and love my wife, and I suspect that there are many others that are thinking the same thing. When I published my post, “A Riddle?,” I figured that it would cause a bit of a stir, and it appears that it did. What was I supposed to do, pull a Jonah and disobey God by running off to Tarshish? You have heard the story before, no?
“1Now the word of the LORD came unto Jonah the son of Amittai, saying, 2Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and cry against it; for their wickedness is come up before me. 3But Jonah rose up to flee unto Tarshish from the presence of the LORD, and went down to Joppa; and he found a ship going to Tarshish: so he paid the fare thereof, and went down into it, to go with them unto Tarshish from the presence of the LORD. 4But the LORD sent out a great wind into the sea, and there was a mighty tempest in the sea, so that the ship was like to be broken. …”
“15So they took up Jonah, and cast him forth into the sea: and the sea ceased from her raging. 16Then the men feared the LORD exceedingly, and offered a sacrifice unto the LORD, and made vows. 17Now the LORD had prepared a great fish to swallow up Jonah. And Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights.” – Jonah 1:1-4 & 1:15-17 KJV
I would rather not attempt my circumnavigation in the belly of a fish, thank you very much!
God instructed me to post that message, and so I did … verbatim. The only thing that I did that was not in complete obedience was that I added the line, “All praise and glory and honor unto our blessed Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” Everything else in that message was exactly as God instructed – to the letter! Besides, if that message has anything to do with my own wife, let God be the judge.
Thus, I think that it is important that you understand more perfectly how much I do cherish and love my wife. I would not want any untruthful rumors making the rounds. May God have mercy on our disobedient hearts!
I would love to tell you the whole story right here and now, but as with the topic of circumnavigation, it is not a story that I can tell in a single blog post. Therefore, I will do my best to spread it out in colorful sketches.
Before God inflicted me with my gastrointestinal disease, I met my wife in a nightclub of all places. Neither her nor I wanted to be going out with our friends to nightclubs that night. Yet both of us relented to the pressure of our friends and suffered ourselves to their shameless urgings. We and our friends all ended up in the same nightclub, a place called “Popeye’s.” As we later discovered, we were both very discontent to find ourselves at Popeye’s with our cheeky friends. Neither one of us was in the mood to be dealing with the typical meat-market personas. When I saw her on the other side of the dance floor, I was captivated with her gracious countenance, and she was very fair to look upon, with her long flowing blond hair and her Amazonian stature. She was as the Lady Galadriel among the women of Bree . She was like no other woman I had ever seen before. Why it is that she accepted my invitation to dance is beyond me.
** [1] The Lady of Shalott, John William Waterhouse 1888
I soon learned why she was so different. She came from a family of upstanding rapport, out of the mountainous farmlands of Montana. She was a true down-to-earth Montana breed queen of virtue, and she had the beauty to match her distinguishing heritage. Her father and her late mother were both very fine, upstanding, and highly respected citizens of her hometown in Montana: hardworking, genuine Spirit-filled Christians, moral, ethical, gracious, warm, loving, caring and humble people. How could I not fall in love with her, especially when she regarded me with such great respect and adoration?
When my father was murdered in 1993, she was an extraordinary source of support, comfort, and understanding. I could never have asked God for a better friend and companion during that difficult trial of my life. Shortly afterwards, she unofficially became my business partner. I left my position at the headquarters of Tower Records and became an independent contractor. Of course, my contracts with Tower Records accounted for over ninety percent of my business.
Essentially, I was installing all of the low-voltage electrical systems (audio, video, telecom, & datacom systems) that I had designed when I was still an employee at Tower Records. Tower Records was at the peak of their heyday, opening about 40 new stores each year. My wife (girlfriend at the time) was my financial/accounting expert. She was so amazingly good to me, and patient beyond measure.
Only a few months before my father’s death, I used up one of the twenty or thirty some-odd lives that God has blessed me with. (A cat has nothing on me. By the grace of my Lord and Savior, I have at least three times as many lives as a cat!) I am sure you have heard me tell this story before, of how I nearly drank myself to death when I was working in Mexico City. (That is a story for another day, however.) Nonetheless, it was that incident that began all of my gastrointestinal issues. Over the years, my gastrointestinal problems gradually became more difficult, more problematic, and an ever-greater impact to my ability to live and to contribute to a rich relationship and marriage with my wife. Regardless of all of my short comings, she has always endured and supported me with the utmost mercy and provision for what I lacked (financial security in particular). It has ever been her goal and purpose to have a sure retirement.
** Dale w/ the co-owners of the Tower Records, Niza St., Mexico City
Immediately after we were married in 1997, my gastrointestinal symptoms began to become an impact to my livelihood, especially at work. It also began to limit my ability to eat certain foods. In the beginning, there were only a few restaurants that we had to scratch off of the list, for instance, most of the Italian restaurants. Despite the changes to my diet, the symptoms continued to get worse, and I became more aggressive in my search for answers from the medical profession. The problem was that none of the doctors that I had seen were able to provide any help or any solutions. In fact, most of them thought that the problem was largely, if not entirely, psychological.
I have lost count of all the medical professionals that I have seen over the years. Some of them have proved to be a hindrance and/or antagonistic. Others have been nothing more than a waste of time. A few of them have blessed me with a little bit of insight on my problem, and only one of them has provided genuine help in solving the gastrointestinal disorder. Unfortunately, that man passed away about ten years ago. At this point in time, I have found that there are very few medical practitioners that possess more practical knowledge about my condition than myself.
Perhaps you have heard this explanation before, but the big problem now is that I am not especially confident that I can find any medical practitioner that will actually be able to supply a solution to my problem. It is a three-fold problem: I would need to find a practitioner that has the genuine ability to diagnose and to treat the condition; I would need to subject myself to the numerous months of testing required for that practitioner to diagnose the condition; and I would need to undergo the numerous attempts to treat the condition in search for a treatment that actually works (assuming that they would even be able to devise a successful treatment). More than likely, I would need to subject myself to several potential practitioners. (There is no shortage of practitioners that think that they know what they are talking about, when in reality they are simply full of hot air.) It would be a miracle to find a competent doctor in less than a year. Then it would be no less than six months for a diagnosis. Finally, our experimentation of treatments would begin, and what would it take to find a successful plan of attack? … 12 months? … 18 months? I could easily be at this whole doctor shopping exercise for the next five years, and still be without a solution. This is how dire my problem is!
There is not a chance that such an approach would fit into God’s plan for me to circumnavigate the Earth. By that plan, I would be lucky to be in the early stages of my treatment plan at the time I am supposed to embark out of Singapore. Therefore, God clearly has something entirely different planned for my deliverance.
I will let you in on a little secret. I have not the slightest inclination of what God’s solution for my affliction could possibly be. Yet, with all my heart and soul I believe that God is going to provide a solution, just exactly as I believe in you! With all my heart and soul, I believe in you, as God has given me reason to believe.
Love Always,
Dale 😊
Read this post on my own personal blog Website dalet.us
©2021 Dale Trussell
1. Those of you that are Lord of the Rings aficionados may be wondering why I chose a picture of the "Lady of Shalott," instead of a picture of Galadriel herself. I simply liked this picture better than those that I could find of Galadriel. It is thought that JR Tolkien may have modeled the character of Galadriel after the Lady of Shalott, in part. Looking at this picture, I can see how that could be said.
#love#Jesus#LoveofGod#WordofGod#WisdomofGod#faith#mercy#Jonah#bellyofthefish#gastrointestinal#circumnavigation#Galadriel#LadyofShalott#LordoftheRings#Tolkien#Singapore#ninelives#9lives#conquest#4BQuest#TowerRecords#MexicoCity
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Templar Order
The Templar Order is a military order of the Chantry that hunts apostates and maleficar and watches over the mages from the Circle of Magi. While templars are officially deemed a force of defenders by the Chantry, established to protect the communities of the faithful from magical threats, they are in fact an army unto themselves; well-equipped, highly disciplined and devoted to their duties.
Templar Recruitment
Templars are considered by the common folk to be the saviors and holy warriors of Thedas, protecting the world from the dangers of magic unchecked. As the Chantry’s military arm, they are recruited primarily for their martial skill and religious dedication to the Maker. Given the difficult choices, templars must make in the course of their duty, they must be unswervingly loyal to the Order and maintain an emotional distance from the plight of their charges. It is said that a templar’s obedience is more important to the Chantry than his or her moral center.
It is this sense of ruthless piety that most frightens mages when they get the Templars' attention: when the Templars are sent to eliminate a possible blood mage, there is no reasoning with them, and if the Templars are prepared, the mage's magic is often useless. Driven by their faith, the Templars are one of the most feared and respected forces in Thedas.
Templars go through a rigorous process of recruitment and training, sometimes in monastic refuges segregated from everyday society. While the majority of their members are male, some female templars do exist, having chosen to serve the Maker as a defender of the faith rather than a spiritual guide for the community. Templars take vows upon knighthood, but these do not include a vow of chastity. Templars are nevertheless discouraged from marrying or raising children since it is impractical to live apart from ones' dependents. Such unions are occasionally permitted, provided that the templar's spouse has his or her own means of support, for example, owning land or a title. A templar marrying another templar or a mage within the same Circle would be considered fraternization within the ranks and would seldom receive permission.
Prior to taking their vows templar recruits undergo a vigil. After the vigil, the knight's life is changed. The Templar is given a philter- their first draft of lyrium- and its power. The Templar Order dictates that templars are not to seek wealth or acknowledgment. Their lives belong to the Maker and the path they have chosen.
Non-human recruits such as elves are not barred from joining the Templars but are not common in their ranks.
Duties of a Templar
Templars are sworn to protect the world from the dangers of magic, but they also protect mages from the outside world, a world that fears these magic users for very good reasons. It is the templars' place to watch their charges for signs of weakness or corruption and, should they find it, to act without hesitation for the good of all. One of the Order's most important duties occurs during a mage's Harrowing. During this, a templar watches over the body of the mage, ready to kill them if demonic possession occurs. In addition, templars are responsible for seeking out mages newly come into their power and bringing them into the Circle. Inevitably, the Order must also pursue mages who escape the Circle but typically can track the fugitives using a phylactery of blood from their quarry.
In the extreme event that an entire Circle of mages becomes corrupted, templars also have access to the Right of Annulment which authorizes them to "pacify" or kill all of the mages in that Circle. This would be used in the event that total chaos was unleashed by the mages and there is no chance that anyone in the Circle could be saved. The considerable power the Order holds over mages occasionally leads to charges of tyranny and abuse since the balance between protection and oppression of the mages is precarious. Nevertheless, according to the Chantry, this is the price that must be paid for the security the templars offer.
Abilities
Templars are the ideal foils for mages, having been trained specifically to counter and "deny" magic. This is done by a unique method of reinforcing the reality and immutability of the world. When a mage--or a demon--seeks to work magic, they tap into the Fade in order to reshape reality. A templar's ability "declare[s] the world real" and closes off a mage's access to the Fade. Magical effects dissipate and the mage is unable to reshape a suddenly stubborn world. From a mage's perspective, it appears to be less spell interruption and more a templar reinforcing a reality in which that spell cannot be cast in the first place. The Seekers of Truth share these powers, and some believe their abilities to be gifts from the Maker.
Templar abilities to dispel magic and inhibit spellcasting, as well as develop a considerable immunity to magic, come primarily through ingesting lyrium. Cole says that the bodies of the Templars become incomplete and try to connect to something older and bigger than they are. They reach for that "other thing" and magic has no room to come in. The lyrium is prepared by philters- boxes containing tools that are used by Templars to prepare the daily draught of lyrium which consequently allows the denial of magic. If Lyrium ingestion is stopped, Templars will eventually lose their abilities. Though their abilities are mostly used as a foil for mages and fade creatures, some of their talents can have practical uses for the mundane. Holy Smite, for example, is an attack that causes magical Spirit damage. Abilities such as Silence and Lasting Cleanse can prevent even normal opponents from using their talents for a short time.
When a templar taps into their power, their sword visibly courses with a white power that disrupts mana. This power can also be channeled through their skin and used, for example, to activate plates housed in special dwarf-created doors within the Circle of Magi such as the entrance to the phylactery storeroom, which require the presence of both a Templar and a mage working together to open them.
Even without their abilities, templars are among the best warriors in Thedas. Aside from combat training, they are also taught the Chant of Light, history, and how to improve their mental focus.
Lyrium Addiction
All Templars are addicted to lyrium, which is officially used to help develop their anti-mage skills and unofficially used as a control mechanism by the Chantry. A lack of lyrium causes the templar to start to feel withdrawal symptoms within a week and to lose touch with reality and suffer from delusions within 1-2 months. The effects of lyrium addiction for templars include paranoia, obsession, and dementia. Symptoms of lyrium hunger pangs include fatigue, forgetfulness, a unquenchable thirst, headaches, and cold hands. Over time, templars grow disoriented, incapable of distinguishing memory from the present, or dream from waking. They frequently become paranoid as their worst memories and nightmares haunt their waking hours.
Templars also lose their memories to the prolonged imbibing of lyrium. It starts small at first- a misplaced item or words to a song- but more fade away over time. According to Dragon Age: Inquisition, those cut off from lyrium and who could not endure the suffering either go mad or die. Templars start receiving lyrium once they've taken their vows and are conditioned to be dependent on this mineral. Ingestion also seems to change how the recipient smells after a while, described as something akin to burnt ozone.
Though unusual, dwarven initiates are not immune from the risks, either. Exposure to lyrium does not preclude the dangers of ingestion. This also indicates that dwarves are recruited into the order, or at least the training.
It is confirmed that lyrium does have effective benefits for templars, as it builds a resistance to magic in them over time, and is needed for their abilities, such as being able to shut off a mage's abilities entirely. It also puts templars in a state of boldness and empowerment while under the influence. Some people think that templars are conditioned to be dependent on this mineral for its attributes and that the Chantry knows of its addictiveness. Both Alistair and Evangeline claim that "the Chantry controls the supply of lyrium, and thus they control the Templars." Despite the prevailing understanding, Alistair claims that templars don't need to take lyrium to learn templar talents, only that it makes Templar talents more effective. Alistair may have been alluding to the templar talents of the Seekers of Truth with that comment since even Alistair later would need to take lyrium again in order to use his templar abilities. If Lyrium ingestion is stopped, templars will eventually lose their abilities, but since the first infusion of lyrium used in the initial ritual is so concentrated, it is assumed that trained templars are able to utilize their powers for at least a year with diminishing effectiveness over time. Alistair, for example, could utilize templar talents during the Fifth Blight which lasted about a year; allegedly without the ritual imbibing of lyrium. The hunger pangs start immediately, however, and nightmares or recurring bad memories could manifest in a couple of months. This either means Alistair is able to resist the addiction or his Blight connection drowned out the lyrium song. Ritual imbibing of the lyrium is meant to stave off the hunger pangs yet it is a double edge sword since the adverse effects, both in the addiction's withdrawal symptoms and satiating it with the continuous habit, gets worse over time with prolonging imbibing. The most successful templars learn to ration their lyrium dosages to delay it from consuming their minds and endure the pain of lyrium withdrawal. Those that can't quit lyrium eventually become lyrium addled simpletons.
When Templars retire honorably, they are provided a small stipend of lyrium to stave off the hunger for the substance, but the craving hits some templars much harder than others. Furthermore, those kicked out of the order have no such provision made for them.
Heraldry
The Templar heraldry is a stylized representation of a flaming sword. The flames represent purification, just as Andraste was purified by flame upon her martyrdom at the height of the first Exalted March. The sword is an emblem of mercy in Chantry symbolism because Hessarian ran Andraste through with his sword to save her from a slow and painful death. The sword was also a part of Constellation: Visus; it is said that the star that marks the point of its blade only appeared in the night sky after Andraste's death. The early Inquisition took Visus as their symbol, and upon their partition, the Templar Order took the sword while the Seekers of Truth retained the eye.
The exact design varies. There are at least six variations.
The sword is pointing up with two small flames on either side.
Pointing down with four larger flames.
Pointing down with three flames on either side.
With the sword pointing down with four flames on either side. The flames end about two-thirds of the way down.
Same as above but the flames are larger closer to the hilt.
With four flames on either side running the length of the sword.
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