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nitewrighter · 1 year

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The Knight of Frost, Part 2

Been playing a lot of Elden Ring and RDR2 and wouldn’t ya know it, it got me really inspired for this AU.

Thinking about the inherent eroticism of running away hysterically screaming from Elden Ring bosses...

CW: For some Horse Body Horror.

Continued from The Knight of Frost

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Mercy grew up as most girls from her time and place grew up--much as the people in her grandmother’s story grew: she knew long, harsh winters and bright, precious summers and springs, and autumns that seemed to cascade all at once in just a few short weeks. She grew taller than most girls, and with an odd grace and delicacy about her, unbowed by the drudgery of her day to day life. But there was a kindness at her core, perhaps fueled by that constant wrestling with the end of the story, the idea that out there was a knight trapped by a curse for no reason other than the strength of his heart and loyalty. She grew up cleverer than most in her village: with an excellent head for memorization that made her an ideal apprentice for the local midwife and apothecary, and steady hands that allowed her to learn to lance buboes and quickly take over the task for her teachers when gout gave a shake to their wrists and unsureness to their fingers.

All this was paired with a no-nonsense personality that prompted little frustration from her teachers--they recalled beating her only three times--once when her daydreaming lead to idleness, another time when she directly contradicted them in front of a client, and a third time when they found she had been advising and examining in back alleys when her training was not yet complete but their clients had no coin for the apothecary’s consultation. The impressiveness of her fury and passion in defending herself in each case was only rivaled by the impressiveness of her stoicism as the birch met her backside. She was strong, and tall, and always just a little bit angry, like a lone evergreen in a dry place: needs that were not quite being met, but doing her best regardless.

All the while as she grew, the winters seemed to get longer and longer, and leaner, as they started biting into what would have been planting time and wiping out seedlings with harsh spring frosts without warning. Mercy was 11 when most of those that farmed only grain and vegetables left their village in hopes of farming warmer climes, and when the grain left, the alehouse quickly went quiet and mean. Still the village stumbled on. For a while Mercy and her grandmother managed--the sheep of their farm still managing to find gorse and dried grass amid the frost, but even they grew leaner, gave less milk, birthed fewer lambs. The village was valuable enough to travelers going through the mountains for them sustain themselves on trade for a bit. They traded cheese and wool for wheat and barley, and Mercy honed her craft healing travelers’ injuries and even acting as midwife for a birth or two. But soon those creeping winters discouraged more and more travelers from their pass, soon, what reserve supplies there were in the village dwindled, and what few people remained were more or less planning out their own timelines of leaving themselves.

Eventually Mercy and her own Grandmother had to plan for their own departure from the village, and Mercy’s grandmother’s plan amounted to “leave me to die here, I don’t care.” which of course Mercy would not accept, and that’s how Mercy ended up furiously pushing her grandmother in a wheelbarrow down the mountainside, her shepherd’s crook strapped to her back, with the entire flock of sheep in tow, bellwether bells clanking. Still determined, still just a little bit angry, and bright as a flame, her scarlet cloak billowing and pale hair whipping in the wind, and their very own snowy cascade thundering and baaaa-ing down the mountain.

They settled in a new town in the valley, sold most of their sheep for a new house, even got their footing by reuniting with some of their old neighbors. Mercy found work bonesetting, boil lancing, pulling teeth, mixing medicines, and midwifing, her grandmother focused on spinning wool from the three sheep that remained and keeping their little garden in her old age, and for a while, they were content. Mercy found even more business as more people settled into the town, driven out of their own remote villages by the cold same as her and her grandmother. She got a few offers of marriage, but her grandmother ended up scaring most of them off demanding a higher dowry, and eventually her own age got people to muttering and the offers quickly died down. She didn’t mind. Mercy was pleased to hone her skill more, and it was all she could do to let the busyness all her new customers lent her keep out the dread of more people pouring into the valley all the time--her apothecary jars and shelves getting barer and barer as she struggled to treat the influx of people. Also, deeply, quietly, Mercy and her Grandmother missed the grand vistas of their mountain village, and this town was decidedly smellier than that wide open mountain air, but it was a good enough life.

Until the winter found them once again. Curling around the mountain peaks that framed their little town and sinking slow and cold into their valley with every sunset. Nervous mutterings rose up around town as frosts wiped out seedlings and travelers spoke of more routes through the mountains closing up and becoming too dangerous to traverse. Whenever the door would open at the ale house a freezing wind would rip through.

“It’s not right. Not natural. Something has to be done,” someone would mutter into their ale.

“How is wind unnatural? And how does one expect to do anything against wind and winter?” another would reply.

“It’s the old empress’s curse,” another would murmur, “The one from the legends.”

“Well how does one expect to do anything against the long-dead and consigned to legend, Bartleby? Answer me that!” said the second. And that would usually be the end of it. But one night, when Mercy was drinking away the memory of a particularly nasty boil-lancing, a new voice spoke up.

“You could investigate,” the new voice drawled, and Mercy’s eyes flicked away from the foam of her own ale, her eyes falling on a tall figure in a wide-brimmed brown hat, “You head into the cold, you might be able to see what’s causing it. I’ve a right mind to gather several men and do just that.”

Mercy rolled her eyes and sipped her ale.

“And waste food and supplies on what may very well be a death wish?” the second villager, one of Mercy’s own displaced neighbors, scoffed a chuckle, “You travelers are always mad.”

“Maybe,” the man in the wide-brimmed hat conceded, “But... here’s the way I see it-- We go off on this trip, maybe we find out what’s making the winters the way they are, and we stop it, not promising anything like that, but if such an opportunity arises, you can be damn well sure we’ll take it. But ultimately, the goal here is to break through the old main pass to get to the capital city. From there, we re-supply, and come back here with food, more warm clothes, and, if everything’s gotten too bad... a safe way through the pass to greener pastures.”

Mercy’s mouth quirked at this. She hadn’t really thought of what moving again would look like. She could push her grandmother downhill in a wheelbarrow but finding a way out of the valley? When every path would be uphill? She sipped again, tentatively. If they made it to the capital city, she could re-stock on all the items she couldn’t forage here. Could she really trust such a retrieval to some errand boy?

“All I’d need is a handful of volunteers..” the man in the wide-brimmed hat said slowly, but everyone in the tavern gave him a visible cold shoulder.

Mercy gave a short huff into her mug before turning around to look at him.

“Would you be willing to pay for such a trip yourself?” she asked.

“It is in my interest, just as it is in everyone else’s interests, that those trade routes reopen. I have a bit of coin, I’ll pay for what supplies I can, but I know I can’t do this alone.”

Mercy thoughtfully drained the last of her ale in two gulps and set her mug on the wood of the bar. “I have need of supplies that can only be found out of this cold,” she said, not looking at him, “Is your expedition to be exclusively men?”

“I just figured only men were mad enough to go,” the man in the hat shrugged, “Is this volunteering?”

Mercy pressed her lips together. “Would I be the first?”

“The fourth,” his hat flopped a little with the conceding bob of his head, “But I can’t afford dead weight.”

“Do you have a healer among you?”

“There’s Baptiste, but he’s a sellsword. I fear his knowledge of healing comes from just as much as what kills you.”

“You wound me, my friend!” a dark man with a bright smile called from the other end of the bar.

“Miss Mercy, surely you aren’t considering traveling with this vagrant!” one the tavern patrons touched her sleeve.

“Supplies are dwindling,” was all Mercy could reply. She looked back at the stranger in the wide-brimmed brown hat with a stern determination. “I’m trained in herbalism, midwifing, bonesetting, and several disciplines of barber-surgery. I don’t eat much and I have a strong back. Is that good enough?”

“Eh--” it took a moment for the man in the hat to regain his composure, “Y-yes, It’ll suffice.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” she stuck a hand out, “Mercy Goatsrue, at your service.”

“Cole Caisede, miss,” he clasped her wrist with his opposite hand and shook it, “At your service.”

In truth it took some convincing for her grandmother to let her go. And even then it was like “Go ahead, leave me to die!” and Mercy could only respond with, “You won’t die so long as there’s any opportunity to spite me further,” and her grandmother replied, “So you’d better not die then, you damned foolish girl!” And that was about as warm a goodbye as either of them would get. It was dark and very early in the morning when the party departed up the main path out of the valley. Mercy in her scarlet cloak, Cole Caisede looking every bit the rugged mountaineer in his hat and cloak, smiling, knowing Baptiste donning a veritable hodgepodge of clothes from different lands, and a towheaded man with wind-blistered skin who only tersely introduced himself as Bayless who provided two scrawny mules and a wagon for their supplies. It was far too early in the morning for there to be many people seeing them off, and much of the village thought the expedition was too mad to see them off with fanfare. It was quiet and gray, with slow-drifting flakes peppering the air. The path out of the village lead to an incline that started reasonably, but soon had to split into rocky, tedious switchbacks that took some convincing to move the mules along. It took them a day to reach halfway up the bowl of the valley, and they spent the first night trying to find and point out their houses and farms and the different landmarks below.

Finally, when they crested the lip of the valley, Mercy drew in a breath of the still and sparkling air. It was brighter up here, with the valley so prone to the shadows of its own walls and all the sinking cold and darkness that came with it, but that brightness did not mean warmth. Still, it was heartening for the party to feel such light as they had not known in some time. Baptiste scanned the skies, the seeming endless void of blue, the light itself rendered strange by a dazzling ring of light around the sun.

"...no birds," he said, as they pushed on through the snow.

"No seeds or bugs to eat," Mercy huffed. Her skirts had been kirtled and kilted to just below the knee, covering the tops of her boots and further insulating her wooly leggings, but the weight and wind forced her towards the back of the party. For several days the party trudged on, saying little, putting all physical and mental energy towards the seemingly endless trek forward, making camp and eating thin soups of barley and dried mushrooms by night, with their own exhaustion prompting little conversation. Eventually the gradual lightening of their packs, the long hours together, and their own adjustment to the toil of their journey prompted more words.

"Do you give any credence to those 'curse' whispers?" Cole asked as he poked at their campfire one night.

"My grandmother told me the story all the time when I was small," said Mercy, scraping up the last now-cold dregs of her soup, “It always frustrated me that it... always felt unfinished... but it feels dangerous to walk into a story that isn’t your own.”

"My logic has always been, the more thought one gives to a curse, the more power a curse has," said Baptiste, running his knife along a whetstone.

"But it ain't natural, we're in agreement there, right?" Cole propped his forearm up on his knee.

"Wasn't this whole expedition your idea?" Mercy set her bowl down and drew up her flannels around herself.

"Well if the curse is real, that doesn't mean I'm just going to sit down and take it," said Cole, "But the quality of the light up here...the stillness, I must say it lends itself to queer thoughts and fancies."

"You are already naturally given to queer thoughts and fancies, my friend," said Baptiste, not looking at him but giving a lazy wave of his knife in Cole's direction.

Cole gave a wry, smiling huff at that, his breath fogging in the firelight.

There was a braying and nickering and the three of them all glanced at Bayless, who was tending to the mules. Bayless was muttering things to them, not audible over the wind and the crackle of the fire.

“Everything all right over there?” Cole called.

“They mislike it here,” was all Bayless said, coming over to the fire.

“Hm...” Cole poked at the fire, then glanced up at Mercy, “Goatsrue. You said you know the story?” he glanced up at Mercy.

“I can’t tell it like my grandmother,” Mercy shrugged.

“Tell it anyway,” said Cole.

“Cole...” Baptiste began warily.

“What? Maybe we oughta know what we’re walking into.”

“And sometimes to know a thing is to call its attention to you,” said Baptiste.

“You know, when you travel, you’re supposed to just nod politely at the local superstitions and move along--not carry them with you,” said Cole.

“It’s just a children’s story,” Mercy waved her hand, “It’s really not so terrible. I mean the giant spiders scared me but--”

“Giant spiders? Well now you can’t not tell it!”

Mercy snorted and glanced at Baptiste, who simply gave a resigned shrug, and then she told the story. The mules fell silent as she spoke, and she told herself it was just that their own tiredness had finally overwhelmed their unease. Mercy scanned the faces of her not-quite companions, then. Bayless had finished his soup and tucked into his own blankets, Baptiste kept sharpening his knife as the fire died down, not heavily indicating that he was listening, but giving her a careful glance here and there. Cole rubbed at his stubble and listened intently, sometimes popping in with the odd question as she had done with her grandmother in her childhood. The fire had settled down to embers and Baptiste and Bayless had tucked into their own sleep rolls by the time she finished.

“There weren’t as many giant spiders as I thought there would be,” said Cole.

“I said it had spiders, I didn’t say the whole thing was giant spiders.”

“...not exactly a happy ending, is it?” Cole was wriggling into his own sleep roll.

“My grandmother said it wasn’t really about having a happy ending,” replied Mercy, watching the embers, “It was about doing your best even when all hope seems lost.”

“Sounds like a cheery lady,” Cole shrugged.

“I like to think the princess grew up and came back to rescue the knight,” Mercy murmured.

“Hmm... But if she had... do you think we’d be having these winters?” Cole waved a finger at her.

Mercy pursed her lips at him a few seconds before muttering, “It’s just a story,” and getting into her own sleep roll. She watched the embers as sleep closed up around her like flower petals she had not seen in well over a year.

Cole was right about the land lending itself to strange thoughts though, as her dreams were troubling and just a little too clear to simply be dreams. She dreamt of a blue-skinned hand with blackened, claw-like fingertips crushing a little corn husk doll in its grip. She dreamt of frost bristling along spider’s webs, of spikes and twisted spires of ice, growing, growing, closing in around her. And the sounds--she could hear those uncanny sounds, the low thundering, the cracks and zips and high-pitched creaks of water freezing over. Of icicle stalactites quivering above, threatening to fall as a distant chant grew louder and louder.

The cold keeps the flesh.

In her dream she was walking through that cave, the spikes and spires moving, as if leading her on through the tunnels. Her eyes fixed on the quivering stalactites above, the chant moving through the ice, echoing off the walls too strangely for her to gauge where it was coming from. They quivered with the chant.

The cold keeps the flesh.

She couldn’t quite bring herself to react when that first icicle fell, much like anyone’s reaction time in a dream. A part of her was thankful that shatter and spray of ice in all directions was a shock enough to spring her back to consciousness, jerking awake in her sleep roll, her breath fogging as her chest rapidly rose and fell. Her eyes flicked around the camp--there was still the faint glow of embers on their fire, and the faint snoring of her compatriots, and just beyond the camp, the white landscape tinged blue by moon and starlight. She scanned the hills surrounding them, the way their crags had been buffed away beneath a blanket of snow, and that snow had been swept into smooth, curving, sometimes spiked looming shapes. She breathed as she looked around, trying to place herself in the moment.

You are on a quest. You have to cross the mountain pass and bring word of this winter to the capital city and plead for help. You need supplies to bring back to the valley. Yarrow and betony and hyssop and--

Her thoughts fell dead silent as her eyes fell on a distant figure on a hill, and she knew, in that moment that the figure was looking at her. She knew her own face as lit up in the dying embers of the fire, her head covered by that hood of scarlet for warmth, and she looked at this figure, distant and cold in all ways. They were in armor, dark and glittering and complex, taking on a bluish tinge in the moonlight much like the snow. Far too tight on them to glance off blows like normal plate. She wondered how they had even managed to get such armor on. In fact, there were ridges on the side that looked almost... skeletal. She could not see their eyes, but she could feel them, and her breath shuddered in her throat.

They seemed to be on a horse. An unusually large and oddly muscled horse, to be sure. Nothing like the tired but reliable old farm horses she knew in the valley. The eyes of the horse seemed off. She knew of the way animal’s eyes could be lit at night but there was a dullness to their paleness that made her stomach turn. The coloring of the horse seemed off as well--it seemed a piebald at first or perhaps that was the manner of tack in these parts? No, they weren’t so far from the valley for it to look so--

The horse shifted slightly in the moonlight and a sound of horror fell out of her as she clamped her hand over her mouth on instinct. But what was the point? This figure already saw her. And she herself could not break her eyes away from them in turn. But the horse--the horse was not made of all a horse should be made of. She had read enough medical texts and done enough surgeries on suppurated flesh to know it when the horse’s flank caught the moonlight. This was a horse whose flank and back left leg had been reconstructed from the corpses of men. The chant echoed in her head:

The cold keeps the flesh.

Bile burned the back of her throat and tears welled in her eyes but she knew she could not spare either so she kept her hand clamped on her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut and silently begged what gods were watching to wake her up once more.

“Goatsrue?!” Cole had jerked awake at the sound she had made, “What is it? What do you see?!”

Her hand flinched away from her mouth shaking and she moved to point at the hill, but the figure and their horse were already gone.

#I can't TELL you what a goddamn relief it is to be pumping fics out again #Gency #Ice Wraith Genji AU #CW: old-timey use of queer (as in 'unusual') that is also kind of a double entendre but not really #you know that situation where 'strange' just doesn't hit quite the way you want to and 'queer' has a certain intimacy to it? Is that just me #good bye fucked up deer fall it's time for fucked up horse winter

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thegnomedruid · 3 months

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I've started playing Dark Souls 1 again.

I had first picked it up back during the pandemic, fully giving myself permission to not like it and stop playing.

To my surprise, I really enjoyed it! I did most of the main game bosses, and got into the DLC until I ran out of steam at Artorias of the Abyss.

I picked it up again over winter break 2024, and have been slowly chipping at it and ... it's still there. I 1-shot the first boss, and just 1-shot the 4 kings. (Don't worry, to keep me humble, I immediately died to an armored boar as I entered the next area.) Since I picked a different starting class this time, I was doing some of those fights with a lower-damage weapon that the Zweihander I used last play through, and worse combat stats.

Even though its been maybe 2 years since I touched a souls game, that muscle memory was still there, it's been nice to slide into that place again. And MAN that feeling of satisfaction when you get a boss down, even if you've struggled with it.

Maybe especially because you've struggled with it.

I'm looking forward to getting back to Artorias, to see how that fight goes this time.

I guess this is my exhortation to try new things, even if they're scary. (Or a reminder to myself to do that.) When I first got the game, I fully expected that I would tap out after a couple bosses, and here I am 4 years later, excited about finishing this, picking up Dark Souls 3 and Elden Ring again, and then maybe having a go at Lies of P.

So, try things. Who knows what you'll discover about yourself.

#dark souls #dark souls 1 #try new things

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geniichiro · 9 months

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🌸 If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog. 🌸

hey there! hmm let's see.

i've had red hair for like 3 years now

i play elden ring too much

winter is my favorite season

#ask #thank u for the ask!

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sewercentipede · 1 year

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i spent 2 entire nights and days and had 4 nervous breakdowns packing for this trip and like. day 1 and i can already see im not going to wear any of this stuff. also I don’t want to be here and I fucking hate winter weather, I want to go home where it’s 75 degrees and I want to take oxycodone and smoke cigs on my balcony and I want to read the books I got from the library and I want to watch my husband play elden ring or whatever and I want NO loud noises

#this fuckinG WEATHER im cold so I have to wear 80 layers and then I sweat and my sweat turns cold #so I’m hot but cold and wet and gross and annoyed

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beholdingthedead · 1 year

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Hello !! First I just wanna start off by saying I really love your art. It's always a nice thing to see, and what I've seen of your ocs is very interesting! Especially love how you draw Rogier.

From elden ring and bloodborne (bc they're my favorite souls games/what i know most about/played most) What would you say your favorite in-game areas are? Favorite songs from the ost? Favorite characters? Favorite armor (if you have any)? Do you have any particular headcanons about any characters or bosses in either of the games?

Sorry if this is a lot to ask ! Take all the time you need to answer :)

Thank you so much for your kind words, dear heart! Truly, I appreciate it and words such as yours is what motivates me to produce more work that I hope you and many others can enjoy! If I can make you even a bit happy, then I’ll have completed my task!

I will provide up to three answers for each of your inquiries since it is rather difficult for me to narrow down any favourites since I hold those two games so close to my sullen heart!

My favourite areas in Bloodborne… in no particular order, The Fishing Hamlet (the lore implications really impress me and I find myself fixated on Kos and sympathetic with her plight; as if I was of a sort of child of her’s as well, once upon a time. The enemies are unique and frightful and I remember being in awe seeing that pale, moonlit body of Mother Kos and the shivering child that tore itself out of her. It really interested me and it gave me a sort of nostalgic feeling that I could not shake from my head.), Forbidden Castle Cainhurst (I love Cainhurst so dearly; the whole area is so intrinsically special in comparison to the other locations. The stark white of the snow makes it both foreboding and eclectic and I fancy the bedazzlement of it so very much. Entering the castle for the first time was so much fun for me and also drew out quite a bit of sympathy from me. The women who screamed and the anxious, dreary servants… it is like no other location in Bloodborne and I love how whimsical it is. A winter wonderland of all sorts of horrors.. it is so dim and tangibly cold and the poetic nature of it is not lost on me), and the arena of the Celestial Emissary (this arena is one of my favourites. The two boss fights in the area are really enjoyable to me; I don’t mind they are rather easy, in my opinion. With the Emissary I take great satisfaction in defeating them efficiently. It’s gallant and a frenzy fight which I enjoy, if I’m honest. It makes me feel like a proper hunter, and, subsequently, a monster and a beast, as every hunter is. I find the Celestial beings quite cute as well and I love how the area is decorated in flowers. It feels innocuously peaceful, as a trespasser.)

As for Elden Ring… there are many locations I fancy, the first of which, being Nokstella (I remember going down the elevator, beaming with curiosity. My first play-through of Elden Ring was entirely blind, mind you. I had been careful not to view any spoilers- I didn’t even watch the trailers! When I got to the area with all those beautiful, prophetic underground stars, I was truly enchanted. That area is beautiful and it feels so meaningful to me. Elden Ring has spectacular colour contrasts for it’s areas. Caelid predominantly being red, Nokstella being blue, Altus Plateau’s yellow… I love how bright and resonant they are! I can distinctly remember each location with such brilliant clarity. I remember seeing the giant in the chair, piecing together how to fight the Ancestral Spirit, struggling with a Dragonkin Soldier, if you could believe it! These are all memories I hold so dear to me and I would just love to sit and listen to the singing of the idle mobs in the area.), perhaps an obvious pick but the Academy of Raya Lucaria (this area is spectacular in everything it is and does attempt to be! The sheer beauty in this area never fails to put me in utter awe! This is an area I always have fun exploring as it is always very dynamic in the pacing and directions! It is incredibly intuitive and enjoyable to traverse and the arena of Radagon’s Red Wolf always sticks out to me as one of the most beautiful places in the entire game! It is so incredibly magical and going into that location for the first time was just something I wish I could experience again and again! I didn’t even know where Rennala was! I had been live on Twitch at the time and I was so confused as to where to go and being immediately crushed by the ball is a favourite memory of mine from playing the game! The cutscene of Rennala as well is just incredible as is her boss arena! Everything in that area is flawless and I firmly believe that.), and, finally, Faraam Azula (in many of these games, I find myself intrigued with a particular area that feels like home to me. In Dark Souls 3, it was Archdragon Peak that felt to be my home and in Elden Ring Faraam Azula is the home I have found. The soundtrack in the area is so wonderful and being in the area was a glorious shock! It is by far my favourite area. The lightning, the spiral of wind, the dragons… all of it is so breathtaking and inspiring. It truly feels ancient in the way I feel as if some of the predecessor games could not capture. Not to mention this area holds Maliketh, who is one of my favourite bosses/characters in all of the FromSoftware games I’ve played. His dialogue and design and lore is some of my favourite content to listen or take in again and again. There have been many times where I just listen to his dialogue and smile as I do so. I wish I could’ve defended him, truly…)

Seems I’ve gone a bit overboard… for the next questions I will attempt to keep it brief! For Bloodborne my favourite soundtracks include: Ludwig the Accursed / the Holy Blade (I had a dream of playing this soundtrack on the cello; that is how rooted in my head it is! This soundtrack is a complete masterpiece and the stark contrast between frightening and valiant in the two halves of the soundtrack never fails to excite me! I have a great fondness for Ludwig and I have had dreams in the past of speaking to him, the gentleman he is! The complexities of the soundtrack are not lost on me either! I watch a particular YouTuber by the name of Davi Vasc! I recommend his content greatly and him reacting to this soundtrack genuinely got me so ecstatic I had to stand up and pace back and forth a bit since I was so thrilled with his appreciation of it! In short, I love this soundtrack with all my heart!), Laurence the First Vicar (I don’t even think I have to explain why this soundtrack is amidst one of my favourites. Sheer perfection. It is so imposing and so tremulous and fanatical and just a true work of art! It gives me shivers every-time I listen to it, honestly, and I am infinitely a better appreciator of music because of it. I love the beastly soundtracks- Laurence, Cleric Beast, you know the ones, and Laurence is just the pinnacle of music to me. The fact someone even had the mind and genius to produce something of such spectral magnitude is incredible to me. I can’t even imagine how much work it took to create something so unimaginably perfect, really.), and, lastly, Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower (I don’t really have to explain this, do I?)

Elden Ring; Lichdragon Fortissax (it is a shame that the boss itself is not scaled up a bit more to appropriately keep this soundtrack going for longer. It is incredible in every way and when the second half of the song begins I am always blown away. Really, I’m so glad the FromSoftware community exists because it is so relieving to talk about music I love without blatant dismissal. This soundtrack is so awe-inspiring and there are many times where I find myself in a stupor, mindlessly replaying the song in my head, even without listening to it directly. I love it so much and every-time I hear it I am taken to another world.), Mohg, Lord of Blood (another basic choice, likely, but I am really quite a fan of themes that are villainous or befitting of something reminiscent of cults and darkness! This soundtrack is so very perfect and mesmerizing…), and finally, God-Devouring Serpent (the second phase… I am in love with it so dearly.)

For Bloodborne… I think it is quite obvious I might favour Alfred, haha.. I can’t help it if I favour those who might be of a slightly deranged inflection. His design is so handsome and I love his voice so dearly. When he monologues after slaying the one he hates so deeply… I get chills, truly. I always look forward to speaking with him whenever I play the game and I can’t keep a frown on my face too long with him around! Another favourite of mine is Micolash! Fun fact, perhaps, I adopted his name for awhile since I was so interlinked with him! Micolash is so whimsical and I love him so dearly for that. I imagine dancing with him and spinning around with him until I get dizzy. I just think he would be great (albeit insane) company! Though, if I’m honest, I love all the characters from Bloodborne and Elden Ring and all the games! I can’t particularly think of a character I really hate or anything! I love all the games and subsequently I love the people living in them! So, it is hard for me to not just list all the characters and be done with it! Ludwig and Laurence are favourites as well, of course! Brador is getting there too! Moon Presence and Ebrietas being my favourite inhuman friends!

As for Elden Ring: D, of course, is one of my particular favourites. With no preference for the older or younger variant, if I’m honest. I feel like I personally resonate with the eldest emotionally (or at least how I portray him in my mind) and I like the youngest in terms of characterization (ahh, the crazed type… my weakness…)! Another few choices being Varre, Yura / Shabriri, Gurranq, Rogier, and more! Oftentimes, I enjoy the characters tempting you to different loyalties. Shabriri, leading you to Frenzy, Varre leading you to Blood. Oh, how it enchants me so. I feel a great amount of sympathy towards Gurranq and Rogier and I love them both in the sense I would really like to give them a warm embrace and dull their worries for a bit. Who could forget Alexander, as well? All the characters are so lovely, it is hard to pick out a particular favourite or two but rest assured that they all are dear to me and my bleeding heart.

For Bloodborne, I favour Gascoigne’s Set, the Cainhurst Set, the Executioner Set (I like to cosplay as Alfred and Micolash…), and the student’s set with the Mensis Cage on top! For Elden Ring, I am a fan of Alberich’s Set, Mohg’s set, Maliketh’s Set, and the Fingerprint Set! Though, all the sets are masterfully done… I’m sure you can tell by now my saying of distinct favourites is likely fictitious since I love all the sets so much… I am sure half an hour later I will shame myself for forgetting a particular set or something of that matter…

My Bloodborne headcanons… I did write about my headcanons (sort of) in a big, gallant storytelling way! Those are some of my favourite headcanons; giving Damian more depth or a fixation with decay, Micolash and Laurence being childhood friends, Micolash having memory issues. I like giving depth to characters since I am, naturally, not a complete lore master. Perhaps some of my headcanons are dismissed by the actual lore already but that is the fun of indulging in noncanon isn’t it? Some other musings I enjoy: Edgar being a foreigner and coming to Yharnam to cure himself of an affliction and being too poor to properly compensate for the care he received so he is forced to become a choir intelligencer to pay off his dept of consuming the good blood, Alfred and the Bloody Crow of Cainhurst being acquainted (perhaps romantically), Ludwig transforming first and then Laurence (I imagine Ludwig would be too valiant and heroic to leave Laurence alive and Laurence would be just the right amount of cowardly and despaired / ashamed to kill Ludwig), Rom being in a time before Micolash and the rest of the founders of Byrgenwerth (I just love having it so she is more unattainable that way, beyond the comprehension of the others but just close enough to bring the school the misery of not knowing how she came to be), and finally, and inconsequentially, sedatives act similar to alcohol when ingested!

I don’t have many Elden Ring headcanons, if I’m honest. I don’t really think about deviation or exploitation of the source material, if I’m honest- and that statement is true about any form of media. Some headcanons I do have, though: D suffers with displaying emotions (a genuine struggle to the point that he cannot bring himself to a shed a tear, even), D, eldest, took on the facade of D to comfort the youngest and hoped his bravery and strength would inspire the youngest to look up and abandon despair, in spite of everything they have gone through, Rogier has a fixation with the dead (the intrigue him to the point it endangers him and it borderline is in a nihilistic, depressive way and is much more grim and, perhaps, twisted, than sympathy), Marika tops anyone (ahem… anyways…), D and Rogier are scorned lovers, which is, sort of obvious. If anything else comes to mind, I will perhaps edit this or reply to this message!

Thank you so much for this ask! I truly enjoyed taking my time and answering it and it made me really happy to share my thoughts with you! Have a lovely day!

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viiridiangreen · 1 year

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ehehehehehehehehe

So a couple weeks ago, a guy hit me up on rent-an-egirl and we played Destiny for a lil while and Elden Ring came up & I mentioned I wanted to try it & he just decided to give it to me as a gift on the spot ???

I've had trouble giving stuff as gifts internationally via steam before, so I asked him to send the $60 over paypal, that way I could buy it w/ my own card. It always takes a while for funds to make their way from my PP to my bank account, and by the time they did, my bank was being Fussy with Steam for some reason. My payment was rejected a few times & I decided to stop before the bank detected it as suspicious or something. It was after customer service hours for anything but stolen cards, so I filed it away mentally for the following day & promptly forgot all about it when Stressful Family Holiday Stuff came up.

Until now, when I realised the steam winter sale was still on & I was finally able to snag Elden Ring along with all the other stuff here that I've been wanting to try for years after seeing the sort of fanart & general gushing on my dash they've inspired...

I'd also been meaning to Diversify™ and make the leap from Destiny-exclusive creator to variety streamer, but struggling w/ how to make that happen since I actually haven't??? played anything but Destiny for years?? lol? With the exception of Warframe, which is cool, but Even Grindier... Though I'm miraculously not burnt out, spicing things up can't hurt either.

My PC is in Dire Need of some maintenance, but I already know the perfect tech guy for the job (a good friend's dad), just need to make the Logistics of it since they live right across town & moving my big ole furnituresque machine which I depend on to make a living is always nervewracking.... but yeah.

Good stuff happening on the Playing Games For An Audience front, even if yesterday's stream crashed like 4 times in a row lol

#I think just lack of RAM is what was fucking with my stream and I already have the replacement for that sitting in a drawer #I'm just too nervous to crack open the machine myself lol #viitalks

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colourofthekites · 1 year

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I posted 26,586 times in 2022

677 posts created (3%)

25,909 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@that-twink-over-there

@gravityjunior

@elitefourkylewantstobattle

@skiingcows

@yourclashatdemonhead

I tagged 1,438 of my posts in 2022

#asks - 150 posts

#thank you!! - 123 posts

#anon - 93 posts

#elden ring - 79 posts

#mark plays dark souls - 68 posts

#mark plays elden ring - 68 posts

#dark souls - 62 posts

#me - 37 posts

#selfie - 36 posts

#gay - 36 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#autumn/winter dates with a bear are the best cause you are cold outside then when you get in somewhere hes a human hot water bottle!

My Top Posts in 2022:

the kind of things I send my bf while he's at work 😏

318 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

Got myself some new briefs for doing a good job at work 😊

327 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

love a good old trend here on this hellsite don't we?

334 notes - Posted October 2, 2022

First time i've owned a white jock, not too mad at it tbh

628 notes - Posted June 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I love being gay and in bed 🥰

1,880 notes - Posted May 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #i love 4 of my top posts are undie shots and then my number 1 post is about bed #we all love gay and in bed!

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thequeenofthewinter · 5 months

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Lisinia

May be a fool, but so is Morgott.

We are all fools down here.

#elden ring #elden ring screenshot #winter plays Elden Ring

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fantomette22 · 2 years

Note

More random asks:

• What’s your favourite weapon in Bloodborne?

• Have you played any of the Dark Souls games?

• If you had to fight a character from any Souls game, who do you think you could beat and why?

Well I think my fav weapon is the saw clever. I did almost all my first run with it ! (+10 with 3 blood gems +18% att is great XD) I really enjoyed it's mechanic and fast speed combat + combo. (I did pass a lot of time with the axe too).

But I really like the blade of mercy and Rakuyo too! When I tried it for the first time I realize I was made for this XD I should have done a dex built XD (for Elden ring I'm going to do with double blade XD)

Unfortunately no. Bloodborne is my first Souls game. I hope to played Elden Ring this winter and the others game later too!

I don't know XD I'm small, not really strong and try to avoid conflict. I think I will just automatically die XD I don't know all enemies but I guess if I had a gun I could beat the carillon crow lma

#my asks #thanks for asking too!#teamsawclever

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nfinitefreetime · 4 months

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Proof of life

No matter what else happens, in 44 hours Winter Break will have started. There is, I admit, a slight possibility that it won’t matter because I’ll be locked up for messily dismembering a student, probably someone from sixth hour but who’s counting, but probably I’ll be home and relaxing. Right now I’m on the couch and watching my son play Elden Ring. There have been worse Tuesday nights.

View On WordPress

#teaching #tired

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dzpenumbra · 9 months

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8/17/23

I'm fucking exhausted so I'm going to try to keep this short.

My upstairs neighbor was thumping around every 10 minutes until 4 AM last night. I actually got to bed at a reasonable time and my bed was literally shaking. I have no fucking clue what they were doing, it was just like one or two thumps at a time so it wasn't even walking around but it was loud, like... sounded like someone was moving furniture. Steadily from midnight until 4. It might've continued past then, that's when I managed to fall asleep. I was fucking livid. But more just like... in physical shock from being jolted awake that many times in a row.

I still sleep with my staff in my bed. It makes me feel safe. You have no idea how tempting it is to take that thing and just bang on the ceiling (their floorboards) really loud. But honestly, I don't want confrontation, I don't want hostility, I don't want a war. I just want peace. In all senses of the word.

My back was hurting a bit this morning. I think it's because of sitting and doing art for hours on end. Speaking of... I just finished the celtic knot on my pants. The right leg one, at least... Just in time, the pants are getting mighty stinky since I've been wearing them skating for multi-hour sessions three consecutive days in a row, where I ended up pouring sweat. My plan is to wait until tomorrow night to give the paint time to dry, heat set the paint with an iron, then... maybe hand-wash them? Maybe just run them in the washing machine with other clothes? I don't know. I'm scared to put them in the wash, I haven't done that yet with this paint. I'm sure it'll be okay, but... I mean... I just sank over 6 hours into these pants this week. It'd be frustrating to lose it all immediately. But that's a problem for another day.

I did yoga focusing on my back, because my back was aching. It helped a lot. I ate breakfast, played some Elden Ring, then decided to go skating. Before I went... I sent a message to the Assistant Manager of the building. She's the woman who has been very friendly and kinda flirty with me. I wrote her about the neighbor. I fucking just finally got over it and did it, just like trying a new skate trick. I just wrote up what was going on - that I'm new to apartment living so I don't know how to handle this, how this wasn't a problem at all during the winter, how it only really happens a few days a week, and how last night was so loud and constant that I was genuinely concerned someone might've been having a medical emergency or something. It was deeply unsettling. I didn't put in any part about PTSD or anything, which is good progress for my fawning response. In fact, I didn't really feel any anxiety about writing that email, which was good. So I kinda just asked her... how the building usually handles things like this, whether I should go up and... guess(?) what apartment is above me? Should I leave a note? Does the apartment help mediate things like this since they have a "quiet living" clause in the lease, kinda similar to "quiet hours" in a college dorm? I figured the best way to figure this out once and for all was just to fucking ask. And I decided to ask the chick that I think has a thing for me rather than the head Manager, because... I don't want the Manager to feel like I'm wasting her time with a noise complaint. And I want the Assistant Manager to feel like I value her opinion, something Assistants don't often feel. We'll see how it turns out.

It's been a long time since I've done the whole "fire and forget" method with emails. I've gotten in that habit with this journal really well, but writing directly to someone is just a different animal.

Skating was good today. There was just one other person at the park. It had been raining through the night and a bit of the day, so the park was pretty wet... but I was able to work on some stuff. I tried ollie-to-manual on the A-frame box and got it one time. The other guy landed switch flip and switch front shove, which was very impressive. We both exchanged knowing smiles and cheers of encouragement, despite both of us having headphones in. It was a really nice vibe of kinship. Like... there wasn't pressure to talk or interact even though we were the only ones there. And we still interacted.

There is really nothing like the smile on someone's face when they land a trick they've been battling. Good lord. It's very similar to beating a boss in Elden Ring for the first time. I fucking love that about skating. It does get sweaty sometimes and people do like to compare and play skate and compete against each other and shit. And to each their own. But man, I love that people can really just get out of their own experience, and watch someone land their first boardslide after battling it for like an hour, and cheer as though someone just did something insane. Because they know how big every accomplishment is. And I love being someone at the park who helps project my warm emotions to help amplify their experience of accomplishment. To celebrate with them. You can say all day that kinship is about pushing people to go further, shit like that... I prefer the act of sharing in celebration of their accomplishments. Even just showing up to the damn park is an accomplishment worth celebrating.

That said, I was a bit shy today. Not with the ollie-to-manual or trying to boardslide the parking blocks again... but with the shove it. My shove its look infantile, and I'm very aware of it. And yeah, that's me comparing. In time, I'll get over that. I am where I am. Once the other guy left, with a smile and a wave, I started working on shove its. I had the whole park to myself. And... the fear was back. I couldn't make myself jump forward. It's so silly! Like... okay, this is how fucking irrational the fear is.

My fear is that I'm going to land too far on the back of the board and slip out backwards. Or... my balance won't be right and the board will go shooting out forward and I Looney Tunes my feet out from under me and fall flat on my back or smack my head. That's my fear. It's like a stereotypical banana peel fear. Now... here's the physics of a shove it. I pop the board with my back foot and scoop the tail backwards so that the board rotates horizontally 180 degrees, I hop and land back on the board over the truck bolts (ideally). Here are the physics of ollie-to-manual. I pop the board straight up, land with most of my weight on my back foot, riding on the back two wheels, and hold the board in manual until I get to the end of the box, then gently pop off. Which one of those two sounds like it's going to put me on my back? Yeah, seriously, the manual is so much more likely to toss me on my ass in exactly the way I'm fearing the shove it. But... I'm not scared of the ollie-to-manual that way at all. Figure that shit out.

It took a few tries but I got there. I landed quite a few shove its, over 10. I tried to do them moving faster and faster. Carrying speed with tricks is the real test. You can shove it on flat all day, but that doesn't mean you can land it moving or land it off something. And yeah, it was spooky, but I made progress and landed a bunch.

Ugh, a mosquito got into my apartment and bit my arm, it's all itchy now. :( We really got a bumper crop of bugs this year, all the rain and flooding and shit, it's been an absolute nightmare. When I rode home I was really glad I brought my sunglasses, because I rode through several clouds of swarming bugs and they just like... pelted off my face. It was gnarly. Some women out walking their dogs stopped me and asked me about the bugs after, I looked back and saw the gigantic cloud of them I just rode through, that I was completely unaware of because the light wasn't illuminating them from the direction I was going. It's nice to just... have normal human conversations with people. And nice to be treated as a human and a peer by neighbors. Skaters have gotten a lot of prejudice over the years, but this woman seemed totally fine talking to a guy wearing all black with a metal band t-shirt riding a skateboard with aviators on. And it was much appreciated. But I was wiped and headed out.

Yeah, so that was my day. Didn't land any new tricks, but I'll say this much... if I get my boneless 360 back, and learn how to consistently shove it? I will be at my best skating ability ever. I will have eclipsed my ability in my prime, in college. That's such a crazy thought. 10 years off the board, and I'm already getting better than I was back then. Because now? I have new tactics. I don't just avoid tricks that are scary. I have developed an override switch for scary tricks that I didn't have back then. I would just say "I can't do that", and just do different tricks. Now? Now I try.

The fucking neighbor stomped again. ... -_- I sent the email at like 5PM so I didn't expect a response today, but like... Okay, let me just explain my thoughts here. Say I apply for the teaching job. Say I get the teaching job, and I have to teach a class at 10AM 2 days a week. I really need my sleep schedule to sync with that, I need to be up at... I'd say around 8 or 9? So I can do yoga and shower and eat before class. So... for 8 hours of sleep, I need to be in bed at 12. It's fucking 1:45 right now and asshat upstairs sounds like Jack Torrance slamming the fucking tennis ball against the wall. I will not be able to sleep like that. And when I don't get sleep, my mental health immediately goes to shit. I get super anxious, I get depressed, I get irritable, and my trauma responses are like a hair trigger. It is the primary reason why this summer has been so difficult. So... if I get that job... I better be able to protect my sleep. Because if I get that job, it's gonna be hard enough just getting to sleep normally with how anxious I'll be, how scary it's going to be, and how intense it's going to be for my mental health to be the focal point of an entire classroom... Doing that on half a night's sleep? I'm genuinely afraid I'm just going to just straight up have a panic attack and have to excuse myself. Or just fucking lose the job.

Yeah, maybe I'm paranoid. But I think it's important to calculate that. And this is a known variable, lack of sleep clearly amplifies the fuck out of my anxiety, panic and trauma responses. I just don't need it. And for what? So some asshole in the apartment above me can stomp around at 2-4 AM as though they live in a barn or some shit? I put in the email that I didn't think this was malicious, and I mean that shit. I think these people are fucking stupid. I think they're oblivious and stupid. It just does not occur to them at all that they live in proximity to other people. Like a fucking object permanence thing. Like the second other people disappear out of their sight, their neighbors just don't exist. They live on the top floor of a 3 story building. And they wear shoes inside. And they do not walk with care at 2AM. Which is so fucking foreign to me.

But yeah, this shit needs to stop. If it was a weekend, I'd give a bit more leeway, but this shit happened on a motherfucking Tuesday and Wednesday night. Give me a fucking break, man. Bro is stomping around at 4AM on a Wednesday morning directly above someone's bedroom. At this hour? I fucking tiptoe around my apartment. And I'm always either barefoot or in socks, at all times.

They say "were you raised in a barn", but honestly? I have never in my life heard as much fucking domestic noise as I have apartment buildings in urban areas. People just straight up let their front doors slam behind them. Regularly. It's fucking mind-blowing. Not only is it loud as fuck and super inconsiderate of your neighbors, it's really not good for the doorframe, and that shit doesn't belong to you! Shit is so fucking strange to me, like creatures raised on another planet. But hell, maybe I am the weird one. All polite and mindful and quiet and shit.

Alright, I've got to get to bed. Fingers crossed this week's grocery guy isn't as bad as last week's, good lord...

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

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